by Michelle Lee
I sit in my apartment, watching the Top Chef marathon, when I hear Dash singing. I think for a split second that he is behind me, but reality kicks in and I realize it’s my phone. I look at the screen, and it’s Val.
“Hello,” I answer the phone.
“Well, don’t sound so happy to be speaking to me,” Tracy jokes.
“Sorry, I was just…” I begin to apologize.
“You were just hoping it was Dash. I totally understand sweetie, no worries,” Val assures me.
“Yeah, he should be calling soon,” I inform her.
“Oh, good, then I’m glad I got to you first,” Val begins.
“Why?” I immediately question.
“What are you doing two weeks from today?” she asks.
“Val, I have no fucking clue what the hell I am doing tomorrow, let alone two weeks from now,” I practically snap.
“Well, Little Miss Grumpy Pants, pack your bags and let Hank know you are going to Italy.”
“Italy?” I ask, a little confused.
“Jules, I’m meeting up with the guys on the Italy leg of their tour. I’ll still be working, but I’m sure you can think of something do to occupy your time while I’m working,” she tells me.
I don’t respond. I can’t. Val’s news has just rendered me mute. I am beside myself, ready to bust at the seams with this news. I am going to Italy and I am going to see Dash, in two weeks. Two weeks.
“Jules, you still there?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m still here.” I barely get the words out.
“Okay, good, I thought I lost you there for a minute. Now when Dash calls, you can tell him,” Val advises me.
“No,” I quickly respond.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” she asks, confused.
“I mean, I don’t want to tell Dash because I want to surprise him. I know it may be a little evil to do, but I really want to surprise him,” I admit.
“Ooooo, I love surprises,” she says, sounding like the evil villain from an old time movie rubbing her hands together or twirling her moustache. Not that Val has a moustache.
“So, if you tell Lance or Vic or even Roland, make sure they promise not to say a word to Dash,” I threaten.
“You’ve got it.”
“Great,” I reply.
“All right, babes, I gotta get going, working late. I just wanted to call you and let you know as soon as things were official, and we’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Thanks, Val. You’ve just made my night,” I squeal.
“Glad I could. I’ll talk to you later.” I can hear the happiness in her voice.
“Bye, Val.”
“Laters, Jules.”
I hit end on the phone and do the most ridiculous happy dance around my apartment, chanting, “I’m going to Italy, I’m going to see Dash. I’m going to Italy. I’m going to see Dash.” My little impromptu routine won’t win me the sparkly ball on Dancing with the Stars or a Grammy. Thank God no one saw me.
HANK WAS HAPPY to give me the time off. I was able to clear my schedule, pushing up a few articles and interviews. Nothing is going to keep me from going to see Dash. When he called right after I got off the phone with Val, I had to become an actress and not let on that I was planning to see him in Italy. It was pure torture not being able to tell him. I wanted to so much, but I held my tongue. I can’t wait to see him. A phone call every once in a while isn’t enough. A knock at my door brings me back to the present.
“Hey, kiddo, got a minute?” Hank enters my office before I can say yes. He knows I always have a minute for him.
“What’s up?”
He takes a seat across from me. “Well, here’s the thing. Maggie is in the hospital. She was out last night and was hit by a hit and run driver. She’s hurt pretty bad. Thank God she had her seatbelt on—otherwise, it could have been a lot worse. She’s going to be in the hospital for a few days, so I’m going to need you to go to Plate tomorrow and interview Chef Becc.”
“Will she be okay?”
“I hope so, kiddo, I hope so.”
“Sure, whatever you need, Hank. No problem. Um, what room is she in? I want to send her a get-well gift.” Hank knows that’s all I can do. Hospitals… I can’t be in them without… I just don’t do hospitals.
“1014. And thanks. I know it’s short notice.” Hank gets up, walking toward the door.
“Don’t worry about. I’m on it.” Hank leaves me alone, and I quickly pull up all I can about Chef Becc, which isn’t much. I need to be prepared for tomorrow’s interview, and there isn’t much time. I had intended to leave early to get ready for tonight, but that plan is out the window, and that’s okay. I just hope Maggie gets better. I say a silent prayer for her and get back to my research.
AFTER A FEW hours of research and coming up with my interview questions, I head home. I’m tired, but excited at the same time. One, I’m a day closer to seeing and surprising Dash, and two, I’m going out with my girls, and I’m actually looking forward to the dancing—letting loose is just what I need to get rid of all this energy I’ve been harboring since learning Val and I are going to Italy.
When I get home, I throw some leftovers into the microwave and scarf them down. I take a quick shower, making sure to keep my hair out of the spray. I don’t have the time to wash and style it. Thank goodness I washed it a couple of days ago and it’s still holding up. After drying off, I scour through my closet for an outfit Tracy will approve of. I really don’t want to have to change. I pull on a pair of black skinny jeans, a sparkly deep blue top, and my pair of black ankle boots. I apply more makeup than usual, finishing my lips off with a certain sparkly red lip gloss. Just as I’m giving myself one last look in the mirror, my phone rings. When I look at the screen, my heart begins to gallop in my chest. Dash. FaceTime. I quickly swipe to accept, and then in a few seconds, brilliant blue eyes stare back me.
“Hi, beautiful.” My knees go weak. Dash’s rock star voodoo works even through my phone.
“Hi yourself, handsome.” I can’t help my huge smile.
Dash just stares, desire starting to swirl in his eyes. “You’re wearing my favorite lip gloss, I see.”
Instinctively, I lick my lips.
“You’re killing me, Sunshine.”
“Sorry.”
“Never be sorry. You’re killing me in such a delicious way.” Dash clears his throat. “So you’re going out tonight, right?”
“Yep, me and the girls are going dancing.”
“Good. You need to have some fun. I am sending a car to pick you guys up and having a security detail with you as well,” Dash says as if what he’s just told me is commonplace.
“Dash, I don’t need…”
He interrupts me. “It’s for my peace of mind, Sunshine. Knowing someone is looking after the most precious thing to me while she’s out having an amazing time with her friends will make me feel better. So please, do this for me. Don’t argue, okay?”
Well, when he puts it like that, how can I resist? “Okay, Dash, for you.” I know he’s worried about me getting hurt since the paparazzi know who I am now. But things haven’t gotten out of hand.
“Thank you. Now let me get a good look at you. Scan your phone down your bod—your outfit.”
I do as he asks. “I wish I was there with you, Sunshine. Although if I was there with you, you wouldn’t be wearing that outfit very long.”
“Really?” I feel my cheeks heat up, and that tingly ache begins in my core.
“Really. I would have stripped you naked in seconds, ripping your thong with my teeth and then…”
White-hot heat consumes my body. I want him. I need him. He’s so far away. “And then what?”
“And then I would kiss every inch of your skin. My tongue would lick, my teeth would nip every inch of you. My mouth would find your wet pussy, eager for my mouth, for my tongue.”
The ache intensifies, my body trembles from his words. “Dash…”
“Are you alone, sweet
girl?”
“Yes.”
“Good, slip your hands into your panties. Pretend it’s me. Pretend I’m touching you. Just listen to my voice and I’ll get you there, Sunshine, I’ll get us both there.”
I do as Dash requests, eager to hear him continue, to set my desire free.
“Are you touching your sweet pussy, Sunshine? Are pretending it’s me?”
“Yes, Dash, yes.”
“Good. My tongue licks your slit, you tremble beneath me. My lips find your swollen clit, sucking…”
My body is on fire. My fingers find my swollen clit, my pussy wet for him. Always for him.
“God, I want to touch you so badly, Sunshine.”
“I want that too, Dash. I want to touch you.”
“My two fingers find you wet for me and they easily slide inside you, while my mouth continues to suck on your clit, bringing you closer to the edge.”
“I’m close, so close…”
“Put two of your fingers inside your pussy, Sunshine. Just like I would.”
I do it. My fingers thrust in and out, but it’s not the same. It doesn’t feel like Dash. It’s my fingers, only my fingers.
“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you scream my name. I need to hear you, Sunshine.” Dash’s strong voice rips through, commanding my fingers to pump harder, faster. The heel of my hand rubs against my sensitive clit. Closer. Closer. Closer.
“Fuck. I love you, Sunshine.” His words push me over the edge. An intense orgasm rips through me. Dash continues to say how beautiful I am, how he misses me as I ride it out.
When the last wave of my orgasm subsides. I pull my hand out of my panties and immediately feel empty. Alone.
“Dash, I miss you.” I can hear my voice start to crack.
“I know, baby. I miss you so fucking much. But knowing somewhere out there my heart doesn’t beat alone makes it a little more bearable. I love you, Jules.”
“I love you too.”
“I gotta go, baby. Duty calls.”
“Okay. I’m glad you called. And thank you for… well… that, but thanks for sending a car tonight.”
“Anything for you. Be safe.”
“I will.”
The beep beep goes off, signaling the call has ended. My plane to Italy can’t take off soon enough.
THE CLUB IS jumping, and I haven’t left the dance floor all night. The security detail Dash insisted on hasn’t been intrusive. Actually, I don’t even know where they are; I just know they are keeping an eye on me. Val went to get us some waters, and Tracy is dancing with some guy nearby. I’ve had a few guys approach, but I give them the brush-off and for the most part, they leave me alone. One was a little more persistent, and that’s when I knew the security detail was here. A big guy intervened and removed the guy. I was thankful, actually; he was getting a little too handsy. My body continues to move to the music when suddenly I get the distinct feeling I’m being watched. Now I know I’m in a club dancing, but this feels different. I stop dancing and look behind me. My heart stops. Time stops. Everything just stops. Blake. Blake is standing on the other side of the dance floor watching me. I try to move, but I can’t. I try to scream, but it’s as if my vocal chords have been severed. I can’t do anything but watch him stare at me. He looks the same, yet different. His deep brown eyes just stare at me. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything. I need to move. I need to scream. I feel something cold brush against my arm. My head swivels, and Val is standing next to me with a water bottle in her hand, offering it to me.
“Jules, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I don’t say anything. I want to, but the words won’t form in my mouth. They won’t come out.
“Jules, you’re starting to scare me. What’s wrong?” I can hear the evident concern in her voice. I need to tell her.
“Blake.” It’s all I can get out.
“Blake? What do you mean Blake? He’s here?” Val starts looking around. “Where, Jules, where?”
I turn my head to point out where Blake is, but when I look, he’s gone. In his place is a couple grinding on each other, lips locked in a deep kiss. “I… I know… I know I saw him.” Or did I? Maybe it was someone that looked like Blake. The guy with the girl has his same hair coloring. Maybe that’s who I saw.
Before I know it, Tracy is at my side and Val is telling her what just happened. All I can do is focus on the spot I swear I saw Blake. One of the security guys comes over, noticing the three of us have stopped dancing. They probably think I’m nuts. I’m sure I look nuts. Val tells them what I saw. Once she finishes, he pushes his way through the crowd of dancing bodies, and he goes up on the couple dancing and making out. He pulls the guy away from the girl he’s kissing, gripping him by the collar, and turns him toward me. It’s not Blake. It’s not him. He resembles him in a way. Maybe that’s what I saw.
“It’s not him. It’s not Blake.”
“Okay, honey, fun time’s over. Let’s get you home.”
Both security guys flank us as we leave the club, heading home. I rationalize that what I saw wasn’t Blake, that they guy just looked a little like him and my mind just conjured him up. Val and Tracy insist they stay the night, but I tell them I need to get up early and head over to Plate before it opens to interview Chef Becc. They don’t like the idea of leaving me alone after what happened, but I insist that I’m fine. I will be fine. I have to be fine.
MAGGIE IS STILL recovering in the hospital. She should be out in a few days. I sent her a bouquet of flowers with a get-well balloon. I feel bad that it’s these circumstances that I get to interview Chef Becc. Hank told me not to feel bad, but how can I not? I just hope Maggie gets better soon.
I ring the bell to alert the waitstaff that I’m here. A young guy comes to the door wearing the usual waiters’ uniform. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, hi, I’m Jules Bennett from Wine Gourmet Magazine. I’m here to interview Chef Becc.”
“Yes, of course, please come in.”
He opens the door wide for me to pass him by. I take in the restaurant now that’s its empty. It looks so different now that it’s empty. Bigger. Brighter. I take in the subtle décor.
“Chef Becc will be right with you. You can set up over here.” The waiter leads me to a table near the kitchen.
I set my bag down on the chair I pull out. “Thank you.”
The waiter simply nods and leaves me alone. I busy myself with getting out my digital recorder, notepad that has my questions listed, and a pen. Once everything is in order, I turn toward the rest of the main dining room. I begin scribbling a few notes about the décor. I’m so engrossed in my thoughts I don’t hear Chef Becc approach from the kitchen.
“Hello, Julia. I’m so very happy you were able to make it today.”
No one calls me Julia except for… I know that voice. I would recognize that voice anywhere. My heart begins to gallop in my chest. My pulse quickens. Ice flows through my veins. The dark tendrils slowly unfurl and lash out at me.
Blake.
Blake.
“Aren’t you going to turn around and say hello? It’s been a long time.”
Without wanting to, my body complies with his command. It always has. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing it not to be Blake, hoping against hope it’s not him. Behind my lids I see a sea of blue. Dash’s deep, brilliant eyes stare back at me, giving me strength and courage. Dash’s smile quirks to my favorite and I feel calmness wash over me. The black tendrils try their damnedest to take hold of me. I keep them at bay. Dash helps. I hear Dash’s soothing, velvet voice. “I’ve got you, Sunshine. You’re stronger than you think.”
“Open your eyes, Julia.”
I don’t want to, but I do anyway. And when I do, I’m met with the icy stare of Blake.
With all the strength I have, I utter two words I never thought I would again— “Hello, Blake.”
Michelle Lee lives in the heart of Nascar Country in Concord, North Carolina with her husband and dau
ghter. When she’s not busy working, her days are filled with hanging out with her family and friends, reading, drinking Starbucks, shopping (lots and lots of shopping), and religiously watching the Food Network.
Visit her website www.michellelleeauthor.com
or her Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/michellelauthor
or get in touch with Twitter @michelleleebook
