Mercedes was pulled out of her reverie when he cleared his throat. Her eyes flew to his face, and she saw the knowing smile on his face. Her belly warmed at that mischievous smile. Mercedes decided to forego her embarrassment. Heck, the man already knew she was attracted to him. So what he caught her gawking?
“Good morning. I came up to see if you were awake. I prepared breakfast if you’re hungry.” She told him struggling to not let her eyes trail down the rest of his body. Raul moved to the side of the room, picking up a towel. He wiped his face and chest down before responding.
“Thank you. I’ll take a quick shower and be down in a little while.”
“Great.” Was all Mercedes said before she turned and headed back downstairs. She placed the eggs in the oven to keep them warm and grabbed plates and glasses to take out to the back patio. In his backyard, Raul had a large overhead deck, fully decorated with a large wicker couch and table. The area was surrounded with potted palm, lime and lemon trees. Mercedes saw it the first morning she’d been at Raul’s and fell in love with the area. Since then, they’d eaten breakfast on the patio, if he was there or she ate out there alone. She’d asked him how he had citrus trees in Atlanta, and he told her he had a professional gardener teach him to care for them, and once the temperature dipped below fifty degrees he brought the trees inside in a heated room on the first floor. There, they kept pretty well until early spring and he could place them back outside. Mercedes loved the ability to have fresh lime and lemons right at her fingertips. She’d already made a couple pitchers of fresh lemonade and asked Raul to teach her to make the drink he made for her on the first night she was there.
She went back to the kitchen to retrieve the fruit and toast, when she heard Raul’s footsteps coming down the stairs. He came over to help her carry the rest of their breakfast out, and went back in to grab the orange juice and start the coffeemaker. Mercedes wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, but after one taste of the special Brazilian blend he’d brought from home, she’d been converted. The rich and smooth coffee was unlike any other cup of coffee she had before.
“This looks great. Thanks for cooking,” Raul commented as they sat down to eat.
“No problem.” Mercedes wanted to ask him about what she saw him doing in the workout room earlier. She hadn’t wanted to intrude on his workout, but he had looked so fluid and graceful. His body was like poetry in motion. She couldn’t help but stare at him as he moved. They made small talk about the day’s plan for a little while, before Mercedes decided to ask him about it.
“What was that you were doing in the workout room?” she asked, as she popped a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth.
He sat back in his seat as a thoughtful look passed over his face. “It’s called Capoeira.”
She swallowed her fruit. “Capoeira,” she repeated. “It’s beautiful, but what is it? I mean, it looks like you were doing some type of martial art, but dancing at the same time.”
Raul nodded as he chewed and swallowed the bite of eggs he’d just forked into his mouth. He wiped his mouth before speaking. “It is.” He smiled at the confused look Mercedes gave him.
“It’s both, actually. It’s a martial art disguised as a dance.”
“Really?” Mercedes asked, intrigued.
“Yup.”
“How did you learn it?” she asked moving to the edge of her seat. He had her interest piqued. She’d never knew such as style of fighting existed, not that she was familiar with martial arts.
Raul looked just as excited to talk about it, as she was in learning. “It’s a Brazilian martial art. It was developed by enslaved Africans who were brought over by the Portuguese. Slaves were forbidden to practice their African martial arts, for obvious reasons. The enslavers didn’t want the slaves developing a resistance, but they did allow them to get together and practice dancing. It was seen as a way to keep their spirits up, which would increase productivity. What they didn’t know was that the Africans came up with an ingenious way to disguise their practice of martial arts...”
“They hid it in their dance,” Mercedes guessed. Raul smile and nodded.
“Wow,” she said in awe.
“How did you learn it?” she asked.
“It was through Capoeira that many slaves were able to escape their enslavers and formed groups known as Quilombos. The Quilombos fought against the Portuguese and escaped into the deeper rain forests beyond Portuguese control, creating communities of freed slaves. One of the most well-known of these communities is Palmares. My paternal grandmother is a descendant of the people of Palmares. For generations, our family passed down Capoeira from one generation to the next. My grandmother and father taught me when I was really young and I’ve been doing it ever since...”
Mercedes was amazed as she continued to listen to the story Raul shared with her. She’d known that Brazil had been involved in the slave trade, but she’d never heard of the resistance of the slaves, or of Capoeira. She was enraptured as Raul shared his family history with her and the bond he shared with this grandmother who taught him all about their family’s history. She could see the admiration he held for his grandmother, and the passion he had about the topic of his family history. She learned that Raul, like most Brazilians was a mix of Afro-Latino, Indigenous, and Portuguese. Mercedes wanted to ask Raul to teach her, but didn’t know if it was something that he was willing to share with someone who wasn’t family.
They continued to eat and talk for a while longer, before Raul checked the time. It was after nine-thirty. They’d spent an hour and a half talking about his family, dancing, and Capoeira. Mercedes had shared with him her love of dancing and how she got started in burlesque. She’d clammed up when he asked about her family, however. Her family didn’t know this side of her. She knew her parents, especially her father, would not like that she performed half naked in front of a live audience. She knew what her father would refer to her as. Her grip tightened on her cup as she thought about the ugly words her father would hurl at her if he found out about her burlesque dancing.
“Are you okay?” Raul looked at her with concern in his eyes. She realized her thoughts were displayed on her face. She pushed the thought of her parents away.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just thinking about the parts of my costume I have to complete before we leave this Thursday.” It was Tuesday, and they were scheduled to leave Thursday evening for New York, where she had performances on Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights.
Raul’s gaze continued to linger on her as if he was trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. Whatever he saw must have convinced him to not push and he dropped the subject.
“It will be fine. I can help you if you need it,” he offered.
Mercedes laughed. “Oh yeah, you know how to sew or glue sequins on a corset?”
“Don’t underestimate my skills. I’m a man of many talents.” He winked at her. Mercedes felt the butterflies rise in her stomach as she stared into those brown pools he called eyes. Once again she thought this man was beautiful. She noticed the wrinkling of the outside of his eyes when he smiled. Her gaze moved down to his upturned, full lips. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from licking her licking her lips.
“You’re a dangerous man, Raul Santiago,” she said, honestly.
He winked at her again before standing. “In more ways than one, Querida.”
“I should get going. Your car is actually scheduled to be done today, so I’ll be back early this evening to take you to pick it up,” he said as he bent down to pick up the plates.
“I’ll get those,” Mercedes said stopping him. “Thank you. I’m just going to be working on my costumes for most of the day anyway.”
“Oh, Nikola and Devyn invited us to dinner at their place before we leave for New York. I know you’re probably getting a little claustrophobic being stuck in here most of the day. We can go over there tonight.”
“I’d like that,” she smiled. Truth was, under ordinary circumstances being inside f
or nearly three days straight would make her want to climb the walls, but she felt comfortable in Raul’s home and he’d been good company. But she did want to say bye to Devyn before she and Nikola took off for the summer. Mercedes gathered their breakfast dishes and put them in the kitchen sink before walking Raul to the door. He’d taught her how to set the alarm, and once he left she would put in the security code. As she stood on the front stone steps of his house, and watched him fold himself into the driver’s seat of his white Jaguar, she felt something strange course through her. This felt...natural; almost like a wife waving off her husband as he went off to work and she stayed home and tended to the kids. Mercedes knew that thought was ridiculous. They weren’t married or anywhere close to it. They certainly didn’t have any kids. So why was she feeling so comfortable in his space? Why did her heart whisper that this felt right? Mercedes looked up when she heard Raul’s horn blow and he waved as he exited the driveway. She smiled and waved back, and reentered the house, pushing those unexpected thoughts aside. Mercedes had no intention of being anyone’s wife, or even girlfriend in the near future.
Chapter 7
Raul observed as Mercedes moved from the bed, to the chair back to the bed, and now was standing looking out the window. He felt a little guilty for having just scolded her about not checking the peephole before opening the door for him. He wanted to do something to calm her.
“Do you think this person followed me up here?” She asked still staring out of the window. They’d arrived in New York the night before and tonight was Mercedes’ first performance since her apartment was broken into. Raul felt an ache in his chest as he realized just how anxious Mercedes was about performing. His feet moved on their own accord. When he reached her at the window, he stroked her back, needing to touch her, to both reassure her and himself.
“We don’t know,” he replied to her question honestly, it’s possible. But nothing is going to happen to you. You’re not in this alone.”
She half smiled. “I know. I trust you. It’s just that knowing this person could be in the audience or hell, even one of the dancers is scary. I love dancing and performing. Usually I can’t wait to hit the stage, but today I feel like I want to do anything but get up there and perform,” she said stepping away and going to the bed to sit down. Raul’s heart constricted at seeing the anguish on her face. He grew angry knowing this is exactly what this person wanted. Whoever was behind this wanted Mercedes to feel intimidated and stop doing the things she enjoyed. This was part of stalking. It wasn’t just about the physical danger, but the mental and emotional toll it took on the victim. This is how stalkers get and maintain control of their victims.
Raul pulled up a chair to the side of Mercedes’ bed and clasped her hands in his. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I know you’re scared, but you can’t give into fear. This is what they want. They want you to become a shell of yourself. You can’t give them that control.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed each one. He saw her eyes widen slightly, but she didn’t pull away.
“What’s something you do to calm yourself before a performance?” He asked.
Mercedes thought for a moment and shrugged. “Truth is, I don’t really get nervous anymore. I haven’t done anything to prepare me for the stage in a while. But when I first started there was this one thing I did…” she trailed off.
Raul lifted his eyebrow. “What was it?”
“All right, but if you laugh or try to mock me, I’ll kick your ass,” she said sternly.
He smiled. “I have no doubt you would try. I promise, querida, I won’t laugh. What was it?”
Thirty minutes later, the pair were sitting on Mercedes’ hotel bed eating and watching The Josephine Baker Story. Mercedes was enraptured with the film. Raul preferred to watch Mercedes rather than the movie. He saw every emotion play out on Mercedes’ face. One scene in particular seemed to touch her. It was the scene in which Baker, as played by Lynn Whitfield, completed her first nude photo shoot, and after sleeping with the photographer, she stares at her naked body in the mirror. Baker plays with her hair, pushing it back out of her face, and turns left and right examining herself. Baker’s voice over states “there she was.” This is when Baker first comes to terms with her exhibitionism on stage. This was the turning point in Josephine’s career. Raul looked on as Mercedes’ eyes lit up like Christmas trees as if she identified with Josephine’s story. He wondered if that was what dancing did for her. Did it give her the opportunity to express her true self? Never one to let his curiosity go unsatisfied, Raul decided to ask Mercedes about it after the movie ended.
“That scene seemed to really touch you,” he stated as the film credits rolled.
“Which scene?”
“The one with her looking in the mirror. Can you relate? Is that how you felt when you started dancing?” He asked.
Mercedes lifted an eyebrow as if she was deciding on how much she wanted to tell him. Raul was a patient man so he sat back on the bed and waited for her to decide. He wanted to know more about her. What made her tick? What drew her to dancing? He was good at reading people, and he realized that while she could be very forthcoming, and even blunt, she held something back. He wanted to break through whatever wall she had up that she used to keep most people at arm’s length.
Finally, Mercedes tipped her head, “Yeah, I can relate. When I discovered burlesque it just felt natural,” she shrugged. Raul looked at her, deciding to drop it for now. He knew she wouldn’t give up more information, but he knew there was more to the story.
Raul convinced Mercedes to take a walk around Central Park where they made small talk and enjoyed the scenery. Mercedes’ mood seemed to lighten up, which is what Raul wanted. He saw the tension release from her shoulders during the movie, and she was able to focus on the reason they were in New York. He didn’t lie when he said he was looking forward to her performance. For the past week, he’d watched her sew and redesign her costumes, and he wanted to see her in the outfits. By the care and consideration she took in designing, he knew she cared deeply about performing and being her best. He would not let this stalker get in the way of that. Unbeknownst to Mercedes, he’d had two of his employees come up to New York and check out the club, and sleep in the same hotel they were checked into. They would be his backup in the audience tonight in case he needed them. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
****
“This next performer is something of a treat….”
Mercedes stood on the edge of the stage, as she listened to the emcee make her introduction. She was dressed in a navy blue and purple peacock tutu skirt, four-inch thigh high black leather boots, a purple corset with peacock feathers on it, a navy blue choker, and her hair pinned up high with a few curls falling around her face. She opted for light makeup, with just purple lipstick, light concealer, and golden eyeshadow, completing the costume with black satin gloves that nearly reached her elbows. She looked on across the stage and saw Raul dressed in dark pants and a short sleeve button up, light colored shirt, with a suit jacket over the top. She knew beneath his jacket he had a weapon tucked into his waistband. Ordinarily no one but performers and employees were allowed behind stage, but given the safety concerns, management allowed Raul backstage-well they relented after Raul practically threatened the management with bodily harm and a lawsuit. The owner took one look at Raul’s dangerous expression and knew he would absolutely follow through on his threats. Mercedes smiled at the memory of Raul’s easy expression turning dangerous as he explained in detail how he would personally see the owner held responsible if something happened to Mercedes. At that moment, Raul turned and looked directly at Mercedes in the eye, and winked. She felt a quiver in her belly, and dipped her head. Mercedes wasn’t typically shy when it came to flirtation of showing her physical attraction, but Raul was different. Maybe because she knew if she weren’t careful, Raul could easily become more than just a physical attraction. She could get lost in those big brown eyes of his and never
want to be found. Mercedes sighed.
Before Mercedes could get too lost in thought about her warring emotions about Raul, the emcee, Miss Celia, completed her announcement.
“Welcome to the stage, Black Daaahhhliaaaa!” The audience clapped and whistled.
The opening notes of Eartha Kitt’s Careless Love began playing as Mercedes strutted on stage. The live band in the club helped add energy to Mercedes’ performance. She shimmied from left to right, before stopping, biting the end of her left glove and slowly removing her hand and tossing it to the side. She repeated the move with the other hand, before turning and presenting the audience with her backside, where she lifted the end of her peacock skirt, giving them a view of her round behind. She spun and swiveled her hips while tapping her foot to the beat and reaching around to loosen the strings of her corset.
Love, oh love, oh careless love
In your clutches of desire
You've made me break a many true vow
Black Dahlia: Book 2 of the Black Burlesque Series, BBW, BWWM romance Page 6
