The Fight Within

by Laveen, Tiana

  At those words, she flirted with disconnecting the call for certain, and the man would be none the wiser. But it was too late—he’d done the unthinkable.

  “This is Ms. Panties-in-a-bunch on Lyons Place, isn’t it?” He chuckled, seemingly becoming aware of the situation.

  Oh God, why did I call this man?!

  “Um, I prefer to be called Ms. Chambers. My first name is Treasure.”

  “Ms. Chambers, huh?” He laughed lightly. “Nice to talk to you, Ms. Treasure Chambers. Sexy… That sounds kinda like a porno star name.”

  “What?!”

  “Look, I don’t have much time. You wanna go out tonight or what?”

  Tonight?! Did he say tonight?

  “Sean, how old are you?” She asked, rising from her seat, suspicion in her tone as if he were some cherub faced fifth grader that had handed her a crayon-scribbled letter declaring his eternal, pubescent love.

  “Old enough.”

  “That’s not a suitable answer. Do you know how old I am?” She raised a brow as she waited for his response.

  “How could I? Our only interaction was you tearing my head off and then you flashing me.”

  “Could you please stop bringing that up?” She rolled her eyes. “It was an accident.”

  “I’m sure it was, but I appreciated it all the same. I don’t give a crap how old you are, you’re beautiful.”

  “Well, thank you, Sean, but I’m forty-two and you are probably—”

  “Perfect.”

  “What do you mean, ‘perfect’?’

  “I like older women. It’s my preference, actually.”

  “I still want to know how old you are.”

  “I’m thirty-four.”

  That’s a bit better than I thought, but not much…

  “You’re still eight years my junior.”

  “Thank you for the math lesson. So what time should I pick you up?”

  “Sean…” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I think I may have made a mistake in calling you. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

  “Oh really? Well, Ms. Chambers, before you hang up, let me ask you something.”

  “Yes…”

  “This is no fault of your own, but I am not interested in dating, or at least, I wasn’t. Then, as soon as I get the nerve, I get a call from the woman I asked out. My lucky day, right? It’s obvious to me she kinda digs me, liked what she saw, now she’s second guessin’ herself thinking that is the prim and proper thing to do. Let your hair down, live a little.”

  “Sean, not that you are owed an explanation,” she hissed, “but I am a mother, okay? I can’t just do things that feel good, on a whim.”

  “So I guess mothers aren’t allowed to be happy and have fun? You’re just supposed to stay in the house with your kids, not having a good time, letting all your good looks go to waste?”

  “You’re something else,” she murmured as she slumped back down in her seat.

  “I’d prefer to be whatever you need me to be… Why don’t you let me take you out, huh? Take your mind off all the stuff that bothers you, has you all uptight. Let me guess, you’re divorced, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You got like two or three kids?”

  “Two…”

  “You got a nice house, a real fuckin’ nice house, and your ex-husband is still paying for at least half of it, isn’t he?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “But it’s true, right? I’m goin’ somewhere with this. Humor me.”

  “Maybe.” She grimaced, though a small part of her enjoyed the banter.

  “And you’re used to dating smarty-pants teachers, know-it-all lawyers, over-paid doctors and rich fuckers but they are not doing much for ya. That is because they might want younger women, or they think you should be excited beyond belief that they asked you out in the first damn place. And now here comes this garbage man, sweaty, dirty and gettin’ smart with ya, and then flirting with you and asking you out. What kinda guy does that, right?”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle…

  In the background, she heard a car door opening and closing, then music begin.

  This man is a real piece of work… What is that playing? I like that…

  “But you’re looking at him, and he’s looking at you, and you two are attracted to each other. It’s true, isn’t it?”

  “Which part?”

  “Hell, all of it…what are ya, blind?! Watch were you’re goin’!” He suddenly yelled at someone. “You know he doesn’t have much money,” he continued on with his conversation, as if nothing had happened, “but you think he looks nice, and now that you talk to him on the phone, you kinda like how he sounds and the shit he says, and it scares you because then the ritzy neighbors around ya might talk bad about you.”

  “I don’t care what the neighbors think.”

  “I’ll remember that when I ask you to leave the windows open and you’re screamin’ my name.”

  “WHAT?!”

  “So, are you going out with me tonight or not? I really have to go, I have training in a few minutes so a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will do.”

  Training? I don’t even think I want to know… Is this bastard being pushy on top of everything else?!

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah, tonight. It’s one of the few nights I don’t have school…”

  School…he’s in school…well, that’s good!

  “What is that song playing if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “MØ, the song is called, ‘Waste of Time.’ You like that? It’s good, right?”

  “Yeah, I do like it.”

  …We have similar musical tastes.

  “You’ll like goin’ out with me, too.”

  “Okay, fine. Why not? I’ll go out with you tonight. You obviously know where I live.”

  “Yeah, so is seven good?”

  “That’s fine. What should I wear?”

  “Clothes.”

  “I mean,” she hit her head dramatically on the desk and rolled her eyes as a big smile broke across her face, “I don’t know where we’re going, so I don’t know how to dress for where you’re taking me.”

  “Just however you want, no biggie. I figure we can get something to eat, talk a bit, get to know one another.”

  “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you at seven.”

  “Yeah…” And then he hung up. No goodbye, no confirmation, no nothing.

  Treasure couldn’t help herself. She sat there and laughed, then laughed some more.

  I’ve stooped to an all time low!

  Her laughter increased to the point that she vibrated in her seat, causing people to cast a curious glance her way.

  I’m going out on a date with a damn garbage man, and I’m actually excited about it. He is young as hell, sexy, has a smart-ass mouth, doesn’t seem to have a damn care in the world, and left my ex-husband’s crap on the curb that took me almost forty-five minutes to drag back into my damn house. And then, I had to ration it out over the next few weeks and re-bag it! Oh my God…I’ve lost my mind!

  *

  Graffiti, a small South Asian restaurant on East 10th street, boasted of eclectic dishes that were tasty and easy on Sean’s sensitive budget. Nevertheless, he wanted to take the woman somewhere half way decent. It was evident from the way she spoke she was classy, and though his wallet was at times challenged, and he refused to go broke over a woman, he wanted to put his best foot forward.

  “I’ve never been here before.” Her face warmed with a reddish hue as she glanced around the small place, taking in the sights and sounds.

  He looked at her real careful, taking her in, memorizing her just so. Her dark hair was cut in long layers, framing her oval shaped face. She was the color of coffee with a dash of cream. Her eyes turned up ever so slightly at the ends, and she had some of the longest lashes he’d ever seen. The bridge of her nose sloped long and pooled into a tiny bulb with slightly flared nostrils, and her cupid’
s bow was deep, well defined. He imagined tracing the damn thing with the tip of his tongue. And then came her lips….full, but not what he’d describe as large. They looked soft and delicate, warm and delightful. A beauty mark framed her upper lip and the left side of her neck, and she smelled like honey and heaven with a healthy dose of sex appeal.

  “It’s good.” He opened his menu and perused the choices.

  The woman stared at him for a moment or two, then followed suit.

  “What would you recommend?”

  “What do you like?” He smirked at her from over his menu.

  “Well, the green mango paneer sounds really good. Have you had it?”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty good. The braised pork buns are my favorite.”

  She broke out in a big smile. “That sounds perfect.” She closed her menu, looking a bit timid as she scooted about in her seat. “It smells really good in here, and it’s busy! Must be a local favorite.”

  “Yeah, they could use some expansion room.” He grabbed his glass of water and took a hearty sip. “The art in here is nice though, isn’t it?” He looked around, taking notice of his favorite piece in the whole spot.

  “Yeah, it is.” He looked where the woman’s eyes landed—and they were staring at the same painting. Across the room, taking up an entire wall, hung the image of a woman painted in blue. Her features reminded Sean of Alicia Keys and her head was tilted back, while colorful swirls, some of which looked like feathers and spirally wheels, framed her beautiful face.

  “So, you like art?” She picked up her glass of water and took a small sip.

  “I like urban art.”

  Her lips curved in a lopsided smile. He took it she liked that sort of thing, too.

  “What?” He smiled back.

  “I just think that’s really neat. I like art, too, though I’m better at design. That’s my profession actually.”

  “Art designer?”

  “No, home interior design. I’m an Interior Designer.”

  He grinned and nodded proudly, as if her accomplishment were his own.

  “That’s pretty cool. Funny, I bet you’d run across people like me. Well,” he shrugged, “what I’m trying to be, all the time.”

  “What are you trying to be?” She unwrapped her silverware, then placed the napkin across herself in a dainty sort of way.

  “I’m studyin’ industrial business development and marketing. I want to help construction companies out with advertising, bid organization, promos, things like that.”

  “Oh, wow!” Her smile almost took up her entire face. He hated to admit it, but he was pleased that she approved. “That is great, Sean. So, what made you decide to go into that field?”

  “I, uh, used to work construction jobs over the summers.” He swallowed a mouthful of water. “A lot of the companies went under, and I always felt that was part of the problem. It’s competitive, ya know? I really enjoyed working those construction jobs, but I’d rather be on the business end of the deal now. I understand the nature of it, how it works ’nd all, and the problem with some of these companies is they don’t invest in their brand. It’s bigger than just tryna get contract bids and hiring the best foremen, and they are starting to realize that.”

  She nodded in understanding.

  “I’d work the jobs to get money for school, well, when I was attending the first time.”

  “What school did you attend?”

  “I went to Kingsborough Community College for Mental Health and Human Services. I was goin’ to get into social work. People always said I had a way with people,” he said with a snort. “So I thought I’d do that, plus, I like talking to folks, kids in particular, but then one day I found myself asking, ‘why?’ I mean, we’re all messed up. Who am I to try and tell someone what’s so wrong with them that I’m the right person to bring it to their attention? I got my own shit to contend with, ya know?” He shrugged.

  “Well, that is an interesting perspective.” Her sweet perfume wafted past him, making his groin thicken in anticipation of some shit he was certain wasn’t even remotely on her mind…though he sure as hell wished it were.

  I would love to take you home right now and fuck you real deep and slow…

  “So how long you been divorced?”

  The woman’s luscious lipped parted as if she wanted to protest, state that she didn’t want to discuss it, but instead, she simply glowered at him.

  “What?” He threw up his hands. “That’s a normal question, right?”

  “I’ve been legally divorced for almost a year and a half…” She grimaced.

  “What’d he do? Cheat?”

  “Sean, I really don’t think this is—”

  “Appropriate? Why not? Where do we get these rules from, huh?” His brow rose, and so did hers. “Why do I have to wait to ask you somethin’ like that?”

  “Because it’s personal.” Her eyes hooded as she extended an exasperated sigh and reached for the stem of her wine glass.

  “Right, and gettin’ to know someone requires I ask personal questions. This is just fuckin’ silly to get bent out of shape about it.”

  “I’m not bent out of shape.” She huffed, relinquished her stemware and leaned back in her seat, an obvious perturbed look on her face. “Do you always just say the first thing that pops up in your head?” she chastised as she crossed her arms tightly over her breasts, compressing them.

  “No. If I did, you would know how much I want to take you to bed right now.”

  She turned briefly away from him, a big crooked grin on her face, then returned eye contact with him.

  “What if I decide I really like you, Treasure, and then you tell me like five dates later that you just got divorced last week, right? That the guy still lives in the house and you two are still screwin’ but it don’t really mean shit? People do crap like that all the time. That’s their business, but I don’t want any part of it. Does that seem fair to me?” He threw up his hands and paired it with a half grin.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you in my entire life!” She lightly laughed, though the sound was tinged with nervousness and discomfort. “You are entertaining, that’s for damn sure…” She shook her head, then sat a bit straighter as a waiter approached them and took their dinner order.

  “So yeah.” He took a sip of his water as the guy turned and walked away. “I mean, let’s just get this shit out of the way.”

  “Do you always curse like that?” she asked with a raised brow.

  “Like what?”

  “So frequently?”

  “Oh trust me, this is the downgraded version.”

  “You know they say people that curse a lot do it because they don’t have much to say.” She crossed her arms and smirked, as if she’d said something particularly thought provoking, poignant.

  “Oh, I got plenty to say.” He leaned over the table, staring her up and down, making her redden under his seedy glare. “I do people a favor by biting my tongue every now and again. I just believe in tellin’ the truth. If more people told the truth, everyone would be happier in the long run.”

  “Oh really? So, tell me the truth, Sean.” The sexy siren leaned a bit forward herself, exposing her damn cleavage. His eyes drifted right down to the brown globes, loving them, and he hadn’t even got the chance to run his tongue and fingers along the soft flesh.

  …Those sons of bitches look good enough to eat. Will she slap me if I ask to suck her tits? Probably. I guess I better not.

  “What do you want to know, Treasure?”

  Silence grew between them like a web, spinning, turning, morphing into a beautiful thing, soft and cottony, but catching every nuance in its midst…and something dangerous sat in the middle, ready to devour the intended prey.

  “I don’t know, I’m not exactly sure.” She leaned back and tapped her lower lip with her index finger, as if trying to decipher and navigate the recesses of his declarations, the kinky ones pouring out of him making her search him l
ike a maze. “I find you curious.”

  “I’m just a guy… If you find me funny, that’s just a bonus. If you find me entertaining, that’s fine, but don’t take me as a joke, because I’m not.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her face changed. Perhaps she wasn’t certain whether to be offended by his affirmations, or grateful for his candor. Regardless, he wasn’t sure how to behave any differently, though it was obvious from the wrinkles that spread across her forehead that she was in deep thought.

  “You said on the phone you like older women…oh, thank you.” The waiter brought her another glass of wine, and for him, a bottle of Heineken. “Have you always been that way, or is this a new development?”

  He liked how she spoke, like they were in some business meeting. He gathered she didn’t always talk that way and bet his bottom dollar she was a squealer in bed and screamed dirty words in the throes of passion, not so refined and well-put together…

  He took a swig of his beer, leaned far back in his seat, and spread his legs wide, loosening the bunched denim on one pant leg. He let his eyes wonder again to her cleavage, that wonderful, perfectly rounded cleavage daring him to reach out and touch the damn things…

  But instead, he simply replied, “I’ve always been this way…”

  She smirked and took a sip of her white wine, her lips pursed ever so slightly. “What is it you like about older women?”

  “Well, older women usually know what they want. I don’t have to skirt around stuff. I don’t have to put all this energy into molding you, making you feel secure. You don’t need a man to take care of you financially and call all mornin’, noon and night to prove he loves you. You know how to love, how to kiss, to hold, to show appreciation. Your bodies are fine tuned…” He traveled his gaze down from her lips to her stomach, and back up again. He couldn’t help but notice the woman blush, an act that warmed the cool tones of her darkened skin.

  Jesus, she’s fucking gorgeous…

  “Like you, for instance. I can tell you got some knowledge in your head. You’re smart, got some experience under your belt. And I’m usually more sexually compatible with women older than me.”

  Although she hid her eyes from him again, he didn’t miss the small smile on her face and the tense way she toyed with her napkin.