Michael took Angelica’s small, trembling hand. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through. I know you feel you have to do this, I get that… just know that I am here for you, okay?”
Michael lifted Angelica’s hand and placed it over his heart. “You have it, baby,” his tone sensual and gentle. She felt aroused.
Angelica felt her chest flutter as she lost sense of her surroundings and leaned into Michael. Michael met Angelica’s swollen lips and they kissed passionately, pressing hard into each other. As their lips released, they both stepped back and smiled flirtatiously. Angelica glanced down and away shyly.
Michael laughed. “Aren’t you cute… How about another?” Angelica watched Michael’s hand as he lifted her glass.
“Why not?” she said as she laughed, feeling more relaxed. “Are you hungry?” Angelica asked, following Michael inside. “We could order something to be delivered,” she announced, feeling refreshed and energetic. “There is this delivery service that will swing in and pick up your carry out order from the restaurant of your choice. There’s Chinese, Italian, Thai, Indian… you name it. Oh, I forgot… you’re a cowboy. You’re probably not used to such things.” Angelica giggled, teasingly.
Michael peered up intensely from the bar in the kitchen while he finished pouring their merlot. Suddenly, he grinned suspiciously, as he came running around the bar toward Angelica, causing her to scream out, “No you don’t, oh my God… You’re not…” Before she could finish her sentence, he had lifted her in the air and was tickling her. Angelica laughed. “Please stop… Please stop! I hate being tickled,” she screamed as he continued. “Seriously, oh my God, you’re a handful,” she managed to utter as he eased his fingers from her waist.
Michael was smiling as he slowly put Angelica down. Angelica was struck by the look in his eyes as her feet touched the floor.
Michael’s eyes were intense. “I’m just being myself… just a cowboy in D.C., like a duck out of water,” Michael rubbed his fingers alongside his head, pushing back the silky black waves of hair. ”Now, how in the world could we get bored?” he asked.
Angelica smiled while composing herself. “You’re right, how could you get bored?” she said, as she smiled mischievously. Angelica stepped back. “Okay, what’s your choice?”
Michael reached over and straitened her blouse. “How about Thai… Sound good to you, beautiful?”
“Perfect!” Angelica spun around feeling lighter and went into the kitchen to find the “Food TO-GO” menu.
Michael announced, as he stepped into the living room, he’d have the green curry with chicken, extra spicy. He walked over to the fireplace and lit the candles decoratively placed inside, in lieu of firewood. “Nice! A real fireplace! And you have candles in it!
“Yes, it is D.C.,” she told him. We appreciate character. Who wants a gas fireplace… how unromantic. Angelica mused. “Anyway, this was the home of the famous poet Jonathan Marsh’s lover, Isabella. When the real estate agent shared that little tidbit… it was a done deal. I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic, besides the fact I loved the location.” She tilted her head and smiled. “The idea of living in a place where such passion and love inspired some of the most remarkable poetry of all time, well…” Angelica glanced away…‘My noble heart burned a fire, naive your intent to dull. When your immortal love returns, it will love you once more. Ye, temptation…’ or something like that,” Angelica laughed self-consciously. Michael squinted at her. He was amused and intrigued.
Angelica dialed the number and began ordering their dinner while watching Michael as he took the lighter from the mantle and lit the candles by the sofa. Angelica hung up the phone as Michael was finished adjusting the lighting. “Much better,” he said softly as he glanced up to see Angelica watching him. Caught off guard, he laughed. “Sorry, I don’t care for bright lights.”
“Oh, I’m the same way… dim lighting is so much cozier,” she said and smiled approvingly.
Angelica stepped over to her liquor cabinet at the wet bar in a hallway between the kitchen and dining room. “So, would you like another glass of wine? I have white Pinot, red Pinot, red Cab… or shall I pour you a single malt?” Angelica looked over her shoulder and winked, playfully.”
Michael let out a belly laugh. “You sexy, beautiful, smart, sassy woman… I’ll have the Scotch, of course.”
Angelica opened the cabinet and found two Riedel wide-bowl whiskey glasses. She leaned down opened the stainless steel ice freezer next to the wine cooler and put one small cube in each glass. Michael stood studying her. “Are you starting to feel better?” he asked, as he came into the kitchen to meet her.
Angelica met his eyes, appearing fragile. “There’s that look again,” she said softly, feeling her stomach flutter. “I’m not sure how I feel. I’m kind of numb, actually. Right now, I’m trying to focus on us and enjoy our time together. When you think about poor Matthew, it makes you appreciate the time you have here. He was so young. It breaks my heart he’s gone, and the weirdest thing is I only spent a couple of days with him and I feel as if I had known him for years,” she said, glaring at Michael with a look of betrayal.
“Matthew was a great guy. I still can’t believe he’s gone. To think he was murdered. It hasn’t sunk in for me, either.” Michael dropped his chin and shoulders in sync.
“Michael, I have to show you something.” Angelica frowned as she set their glasses down at the bar in front of Michael. She pushed her sleeve up, as Michael watched, to reveal the large Band-Aid soaked with blood. “I wish it would stop bleeding,” Angelica whispered. Michael’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t say a word. Angelica peeled the Band-Aid off exposing a small wound of open flesh.
Michael clenched his jaw, genuinely shocked. “What the heck happened?” he demanded.
Angelica looked up, her eyes narrow and lost. “I cut it out. It was a metal object of some sort. It moved on its own. I didn’t know what to do. My first thought was to get it out, so I grabbed a razor.” Angelica analyzed Michael’s face. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
Michael stepped over and took Angelica’s arm, lifting it up and looking closely at the wound. “When did this happen? You need stitches!”
“Yesterday morning in Denver. I woke up and noticed blood on the sheets. It had come from my ear, I think. While examining the sheets, I noticed an area of my arm with something under it. I pushed at it and it moved. I couldn’t believe it… I have it in my wallet if you want to see it.” Angelica’s voice was weak and as Michael studied her, she appeared delicate. “I’m meeting Dr. Goolrick here in D.C., at a lab, to examine it.”
“Of course I want to see it!” Michael demanded.
Angelica walked over to her purse and pulled the cocktail napkin out of her wallet. She unfolded the napkin and extended her hand so Michael could examine it more closely.
“You took that out of your forearm?” Michael gasped, horrified. “What do you think it is? How did it get there?”
Angelica looked down at it while chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t know, but I would like to find out! What do you think?” Angelica handed it to Michael.
“I don’t know… it looks like… You said it moved on its own, huh?”
“Yes, it’s obviously some sort of device. I don’t know why I’ve kept it with me. It’s probably tracking my every move. I just didn’t know what to do with it. You can examine it all you want. I don’t want to look at it anymore! I just want to forget about all of this alien stuff tonight, here – I need to freshen up for dinner.” Angelica turned dramatically as she handed him the device. “Do you mind grabbing the door when the food shows up? I’ve already paid… thanks, be right back.”
Michael didn’t respond, he was too busy examining the strange object. He held it up toward the recessed lighting in the ceiling and noticed the edges were transparent. He thought he could make out something inside, and considered finding something in the kitchen to break it open. He changed his mind, recalling Ange
lica’s meeting with the doctor the next day.
After a minute, he sat the device down on the granite countertop in the kitchen, then grabbed his Scotch, walked over and opened the patio door. Leaving it open behind him, he went out and sat in one of the cushioned chairs to wait. Michael watched the ripples of clouds rushing past the moon as he thought about Angelica. He thought back on the way her body moved in perfect rhythm with his when they made love. The image of her firmly caressing him, causing him to harden between her fingers as she looked up at his eyes and then closed hers before lowering her head. The memory caused him to feel immediate desire for her.
Michael walked into the living room right as the doorbell rang. Rushing through the foyer across the camel-colored, woven sisal rug, he opened the door to a youthful, dark-haired delivery man. He quickly handed Michael the brown bag and left.
Michael shut the door and turned the deadbolt, then went into the kitchen and located the plates and silverware. After setting the table in the dining room, he distributed the food, then lit the candle on the table.
Angelica came down the stairs and into the dining room as he was placing the two glasses of Scotch down on the table beside the plates.
“Smells so good,” she announced as she stepped into the dining room.
“Yes, it does… come eat, beautiful!” Michael said as he looked up. “Wow, you look amazing!” Michael pulled her chair out and motioned for her to sit.
Angelica had changed into her light pink Victoria’s Secret sweat suit. The jacket was unzipped just enough to reveal her cleavage. And the sweatpants hung off the curve of her hips, exposing her belly button.
Angelica walked over and sat down at the table. “I just wanted to get comfortable,” she said as she pushed her hair back off of her neck and twisted it.
“Wow!” Michael chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I obviously find your figure amazing, but it’s your almost shy sexiness that kills me.” He smiled seductively.
“Almost shy sexiness, huh?” she laughed softly. Angelica thought for a moment as she observed Michael as he sat down at the table.
“So, do you like country music?” she asked playfully.
“Yes. Is that a problem? I heard in town, you do too,” Michael said teasing with a sneaky grin.
Angelica narrowed her eyes and smirked, “I suppose you are talking about that night at Buffalo Billiards. Right? I had a little too much tequila. Let’s change the subject and talk about you, shall we?” She continued to hold eye contact while taking a bite of her red curry.
Michael shook his head and laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”
Angelica took a sip of her Scotch, smiling seductively, “I can think of a few things.”
Michael smiled playfully. “Did I tell you my butterfly analogy?”
Angelica gleamed at Michael. It was so entrancing watching Michael’s lips move as he spoke. “No, I’m sure this will be interesting,” she thought.
“Well, women are butterflies and men are butterfly catchers. If a butterfly catcher wants to catch a butterfly, he has a couple of options, you see. He can catch one with a big net, but that usually just scares the butterfly away. On the other hand, he could catch the butterfly with his fingers, holding tightly onto its wings while it flutters to be free, and most likely injure it… and the butterfly is never able to fly again… Or, he can just be still and patiently wait, and if the butterfly likes the butterfly catcher it will fly to him and land gently on his hand.”
Angelica was amused, although she had heard a similar analogy before, she acted as if she was hearing it for the first time, and let out a girlish laugh. “You make me smile.”
Angelica put her fork down, placed her palm to her chin as her elbow rested on the table… “I like you, cowboy.”
“I know you do, and I like you,” he replied.
Angelica looked down toward her plate, appearing worried. Michael raised his elbows to the table and leaned in. “What is it, Angelica?”
Angelica looked into his eyes. “It feels like we are moving perhaps too fast…” Angelica lowered her chin as she held his gaze. “I’m scared, scared of us… I can’t believe I just told you that, but it just feels we’re moving really fast.” She frowned and bite her bottom lip. “We’ve just met and…” Angelica took a breath. “You sound sincere…”
Michael appeared deflated. “Angelica, I’m serious about you.” He pushed his chair out and stood up. Getting down on one knee, he looked genuinely into her eyes. “I’m the same man that held you, looked deep into your eyes and made you feel safe. When you doubt my character, remember what you feel when I’m with you. I’m not going to hurt you, baby.”
Angelica looked at Michael and took a deep breath. It was too late, she was in love.
Chapter Forty-Six
Angelica struggled to open her eyes. The room was blurry. She felt dizzy as she tried to move her head and rise from the bed. Angelica sighed as she managed to slightly open her eyes. She sat up on one elbow and continued to push herself upright. The room began to spin and she wondered if she’d been drugged. Angelica felt her heart race as panic seized her entire body. She slowly lifted her legs from her bed while making out just enough of her surroundings and recognizing her cream duvet. Angelica, slightly wobbling back and forth as she planted her feet firmly on the floor. She looked up and saw a figure standing in front of her. Her head was heavy, trying to drop forward. Angelica managed to hold it up just enough to see a man with a black crew cut and a black suit glaring blankly at her. Reluctantly, she extended her hand out toward him, causing her to sway back and forth, and then collapse back onto the bed into a sedated sleep.
“Angelica, wake up! Can you hear me? Angelica, wake up!” Angelica opened her eyes to see Michael leaning over her. Her head felt as heavy as the kettlebell she used at the gym. “Michael, yes, I’m awake,” she whispered. “How long have I been asleep?” Angelica glanced over and saw the time was twelve twenty-two.
Her bedroom was lit up by the morning sun. “I can’t believe how tired I was… felt as if I had been drugged.”
Angelica peered up at Michael, “Did you just wake?”
“No, I have been awake for a while. I decided to let you sleep in, so I headed out to the corner café for coffee and a newspaper. I brought you a few things back. Hope you like éclairs. The lady in line behind me said they were the best in town.” Michael gazed tenderly into Angelica’s eyes as he stroked her pink cheek.
“You had me worried… wasn’t sure if you were breathing for a minute there.”
Angelica slowly got up from the bed to reveal the curves of her nude body. She gracefully raised her hand to her head to sooth a slight headache thumping at her temporal lobe.
Angelica noticed her clothes from the night before scattered about the floor. “Maybe it was the wine and Scotch,” she thought aloud, applying more pressure to her temple.
“You should eat something. I’ll go start your coffee,” Michael announced, as he bent over and picked up her bright pink lace panties and pink sweat pants. “And you really shouldn’t wear these around me.” He winked, teasingly, as he tossed them onto the bed. Angelica smiled and nodded as she walked to the bathroom. “I better shower. I have a meeting this afternoon. Oh, I almost forgot… when is your flight to New York?”
“It’s at four o’clock.” Michael appeared disappointed.
“Michael, I don’t want you to leave.” Angelica pursed her lips as she pouted.
“Do you have time to grab lunch?” Michael asked.
“Yes, perfect… we’ll have lunch before you leave… I know a great place!” Angelica smiled before she turned to step into the bathroom.
“You’re like a little girl sometimes… It’s cute. Who would have guessed you were such a softy?”
Angelica looked back to meet Michael’s eyes and grinned sheepishly, forgetting her headache for a moment. “Last night was nice,” she mused, before disappearing into the bathroom.
“
Nice? Just nice?” Michael murmured as he tilted his head and scratched it.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Michael opened the restaurant door and allowed Angelica to step in first. With the lunchtime rush well underway at La Bistro in D.C., the trendy hotspot was busy with professionals.
Still fighting a slight headache, the clinking of glass was annoying her… Determined to enjoy her time with Michael, she tried to ignore the subtle thump in her head and smiled graciously.
La Bistro was known for its sophisticated cuisine, with black tablecloths, brown and terracotta brick walls, and an open ceiling exposing the beams and piping, painted black. The atmosphere provided a perfect setting to bring Angelica back into the swing of things.
Michael handed his small duffle bag to the woman at the hostess stand. “Do you mind holding this for me?” he asked. The woman smiled and took the bag, placing it out of sight behind the stand.
Angelica watched as a curious thought occurred to her. “Is that all you’re taking to New York?” Angelica asked, as they were being lead to a table close to the bar.
“Heavens no, I have clothes at my loft in Midtown.” Michael chuckled just as the server approached in a white apron to announce the specials for the day.
“Manhattan?” Angelica uttered, surprised.
“Hello, my name is Winton and I will be serving you today. Have you dined with us before?” he asked matter-of-factly.
Michael looked up at the server and smiled politely, oblivious to Angelica staring at him curiously. “Winston?” he asked inquisitively. “No, I have not.”
“It’s Winton,” the server said politely..
Michael nodded. “Interesting name.” He smiled and then looked at Angelica.
Angelica managed a smile as she peeled her eyes from the side of Michael’s head and glared up at the server, still digesting Michael’s revelation.
“Yes, quite frequently,” she replied business-like.
The Bovine Connection Page 24
