Beauty & the Geek: Zola's Magic Touch (Mocha Memoirs Presents Beauty & the Geek)

by Shiree McCarver

  “Your last name is Tsubasa?” she asked him.

  He was confused by her wary stare. “Yes, it is.” He leaned forward to nuzzle the side of her throat with kisses. His hands rubbed up and down the sides of her exposed thighs.

  “Wait…hmm…hold up a minute.” She pushed at his shoulder.

  “You heard her; we will be landing soon.”

  “Shin Tsubasa? That’s your name, right?”

  He leaned back and dropped his hands to his side. “What’s going on, Zoë?” His brow crinkled in a questioning frown.

  “Answer me,” she spoke urgently.

  “No, my name is Shirou Tsubasa,” he replied evenly.

  “Oh God,” she moaned. “It’s not possible,” she whispered, shaking her mussed head. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Zoë.” Shirou placed his hands on her hips to still her. “What’s going on? What does it matter who I am? Do you recognize the name from somewhere? I promise you it wasn’t on America’s Most Wanted. I have impeccable credentials and the identification to back it up.”

  “Why did you lie and say your name was Shin, when it isn’t?”

  He flinched from her accusing glare. What was she accusing him of exactly? “That’s because it’s a nickname. I told you my friends call me Shin.”

  “Okay, then please tell me you aren’t the Dr. Shirou Tsubasa, head of the Energy Resource Department for NASA in Coco Beach, Florida.”

  He could see by her pained expression she seriously hoped he wasn’t the man she spoke of, and he wanted desperately to lie to her, but he couldn’t.

  “You know my work?” Shirou asked instead.

  “Oh God,” she groaned again. “I can’t believe this shit.” This time when she pushed away from him, he let her go as she hurriedly pushed her skirt down.

  His bottom lip poked out in a childish pout as he reluctantly stood and righted his clothes. She opened the airplane lavatory door and rushed out. All he could feel was frustration and most of all, confusion.

  Why did knowing who he was make her react this way? He was used to women throwing themselves at him after finding out who he was, not the other way around. He hadn’t lied to her; he just hadn’t told her his name because for once it was nice to know a woman was attracted to him before his reputation preceded him.

  Shirou took a step toward the door and saw the underwear he tore away in his haste. With resignation, he stooped, picked them up, shoved them in his trouser pocket, and dejectedly followed behind her.

  He was surprised that she had returned to the seat next to his. He would have thought with the way she exited the bathroom, she never wanted to see him again. After taking a seat, he fastened his seat belt and stared at her fretting profile in the dim light.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on here, or do I get to guess?” He broke the lingering silence between them.

  “I am Zola Simpson,” was all she said.

  “Okay. I assume, as you said, your friends call you Zoë?”

  She nodded. “Is that all you have to say? You don’t know who I am?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Are you an entertainer? I don’t care much for today’s music. I listen to the classics.”

  “Are you trying to be funny?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “No.” He chuckled softly. “There is nothing funny about a man being a short and curly away from busting a nut only to find out he’s not getting his, even though the woman got hers more than once.”

  From the reddening of her dark skin, he realized his remark hit home.

  “It wasn’t my intention, but after I found out who you were, there would have been no excuse for me continuing and risking my job over it,” Zola said softly.

  Was that regret he heard in her voice? “What do you mean lose your job?”

  “You are supposed to be in Atlanta waiting for me to get there. Did your assistant not tell you that you would be working with me all evening on preparing the speech for tomorrow night’s banquet for NASA?”

  Reality set in, and Shirou felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. “Ms. Simpson from the Virginia Corporate Office. Oh my God, you’re the Public Affairs Specialist for NASA.”

  Shirou must have turned his head too fast, for his vision blurred for a moment, and he closed his eyes as the nauseous feeling passed.

  “Now you feel it, huh?”

  “Huh?” He opened his eyes. His hands shook as he wiped the cold sweat from his brow.

  “I didn’t expect you to take it this hard,” she fretted, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry. No one will find out what happened between us. I can’t afford to lose my job for fraternization.”

  “Yeah,” he said absently.

  “Hey, Shin…I mean Mr. Tsubasa, are you okay? You’re looking like you looked when I woke you in the airport?”

  “What, you’re scared I won’t be able to work this evening?” he snapped and caught himself. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  “Look, I know it was shitty for me to leave you hanging like that. It’s just I didn’t know what else to do. I’m so embarrassed. I’m very professional and take my position at NASA seriously, Mr. Tsubasa. This would have never have happened if I had known who you were,” she assured him.

  “I don’t think less of you, Z—Ms. Simpson. I was there too, remember? I’m sorry that it turned out like this, but I won’t tell you I regret one moment I have spent with you today.” He caught her stare with his and held it.

  Her face softened, and she reached out and intertwined her fingers with his. “I don’t either, but it can never happen again.”

  He nodded and reluctantly released her hand when she tugged it away.

  Chapter Five

  Zola walked into the Sheraton Atlanta Hotel in downtown Atlanta. She and Shirou had gotten off the plane together, and his assistant was right there waiting to cart him away. He had been polite enough to offer her a ride, but she didn’t feel it would be wise to arrive together with a hotel full of NASA representatives. There was no reason to set tongues wagging. It might lead to the truth, and she couldn’t afford to let that happen.

  Besides that, she needed time alone to put her feelings in perspective. Zola had read about these kinds of unexpected attractions to another person, but in her experience it wasn’t possible. Not until today. She’d felt a physical pull toward Shin the moment she saw him sitting there in that relaxed don't-give-a-damn way.

  Zola was blessed with curves, and men had always taken notice. She was considered overweight by today’s underweight standards, but if she had been living in the days of Mae West, she could have given the voluptuous Hollywood actress a run for her money when it came to “hourglass” figures.

  God had blessed her with generous breasts, a small waist, and an ass a man could grip when he was rocking her world, and she never had any shame in dressing in ways that caused heads to turn when she entered a room.

  Zola took her cue from women of the forties and fifties who knew it was okay to be a woman and be quietly strong instead of blatantly throwing it in men’s faces that they could take care of themselves. She worked for a company dominated by men and she got her way by allowing them to go with their natural instincts.

  She didn’t care if they saw her as a “damsel in distress” and felt a masculine protectiveness over her. Because of it, even if some wanted to secretly fuck her, they treated her respectfully, like a lady, at all times.

  The strength of a woman came in all forms. She found the more she expected men to treat her like a lady, by waiting for them to open office and car doors for her, the more she was treated as one.

  She found dressing in vintage styles of the 40s and 50s brought out the girly behavior men seem to appreciate. The three- to four-inch high heels made her calves appear bigger and her thick ankles seem smaller. The fitted skirts with coordinated jackets over corsets with garters made her waist look like a man’s hand could span it and his fingers touch
even when they couldn’t. Frilly, laced blouses that hinted at generous cleavage took the eye off her double chin and elongated her short neck.

  Zola knew how to work with what she was born with. She learned that men really appreciated a fleshy woman. Magazines tell lies to sell clothing by brainwashing their “ideas” of perfection on women. She learned from experience most men didn’t remember what she was wearing when they met her, but they did remember her body with deep appreciation.

  She was accustomed to being gawked at in her tailored, handmade clothing her seamstress mother made for her. She could show her mother any vintage outfit in any size and her mother could recreate it in a plus-girl size.

  With a resigned sigh, Zola barely noticed the admiring masculine stares of the gathering men as she glided through the hotel lobby toward the front desk to check-in; her mind was too distracted with thoughts of Shirou. She wondered if her immediate attraction stemmed from his immediate lack of attraction to her.

  He hadn’t seemed affected by her at all in the airport lobby. Usually when she came into a room and sat down beside or across from a man, he would at least show signs of appreciation in her legs when she crossed them in front of him.

  It was refreshing to discover she had been wrong about a man before. Instead of admiring her discreetly, he obviously had been really reading his book. He was so disinterested in her he actually fell asleep.

  Zola never felt so challenged. The rush of getting not only his attention but to have him moaning beneath her in an airplane bathroom had been an exciting, heady experience she’d never forget. She only wished her escapade could have lasted longer before reality slammed into her like a cold shower.

  In the back of her mind she had imagined tying up her business obligations quickly and seeing what Shin’s plans were while in Atlanta, in hopes that he would want to spend more time with her as she had wanted to with him.

  Zola had imagined spending a nice, lazy weekend in a comfortable bed with Shin until they had to go their separate ways. It had been exciting to be the one to make the first move on a man, and more thrilling to seduce this man from a culture she’d never thought was an option.

  He had surprised her when he opened the door to more conversation after she woke him. A smile came to her closed lips. He had surprised her even more by inviting her to have dinner with him. Already he had shot away to the curb many of her stereotypical ideas she had about Asian men.

  There was only enough time to stir her desires to know more about him. She knew the public side of Shirou Tsubasa, and she never would have expected the vulnerable man she met was one and the same. He was nothing like the aloof, analytical scientist she had mentally termed “the frozen sushi.”

  Damn. If NASA would put up pictures with the bios like she suggested, she would have known who he was and never acted so inappropriately. Now, if she pushed too hard to get him to do the banquet, he had ammunition to get her fired. Of course it would be his word against hers, but her being here in Atlanta on her weekend off proved who they thought was more important to the company. It would only be a matter of time before they found some way of getting rid of her.

  What to do? she wondered.

  “Welcome to the Downtown Atlanta Sheraton. How may I help you?” the woman asked from behind the service desk as the gentleman in front of her walked away and she stepped forward.

  “Zola Simpson, I should have a reservation.” She smiled.

  The woman returned her smile, and her fingers flew rapidly across the keys of the computer terminal she was staring at. “Yes, we were expecting you.”

  “My God, traffic is horrendous.” Zola waved her Elaine Turner Bella Camo Python clutch purse in front of her heated face, hoping to air dry the sheen of perspiration that threatened to wreck her carefully applied face powder. “What’s going on a block down at the Ritz Carlton?”

  “It’s the 2011 Atlanta Shoe and Purse Expo,” the woman answered.

  “Oh, that is perfect! This weekend won’t be a complete bust if I get to go home with a couple more designer handbags.” Zola chuckled with a wink.

  “As soon as I get off from here, I’m going over there and spending my entire paycheck,” the younger girl leaned over the counter and whispered in a conspirator’s tone. “I went yesterday just to take a peek while they were still setting up, and I thought I was going to die from an accessory orgasm.”

  Zola laughed. “Now that is what I’m talking about. I already know I’m going to hurt myself.”

  “Willie!” The woman motioned over her head, and immediately a bellhop came to stand by her side. She handed him the keycard with instructions, “Make sure Ms. Simpson’s luggage has been removed from the airport shuttle van, and please show her up to her suite.”

  Zola started to follow the concierge and paused. Perplexed, she asked, “Did you say a suite? There must be some mistake...”

  “No.” The woman shook her head and gave her a bright smile. “I upgraded the room myself just minutes ago at the request of a representative from NASA. Everything has been taken care of. Enjoy your stay. If you need anything, please dial zero for the front desk.”

  “I will.” Zola nodded. “Thank you very much for the information.” Zola looked at her name tag: Renee. “I will make sure to leave a glowing review for you on the survey card.”

  “Thank you so much, Ms. Simpson.”

  After the young man Renee had called Willie secured her luggage, she stepped inside the elevator and leaned tiredly against the back wall. She stared thoughtfully at her blurred reflection in the stainless steel paneling where the controls were.

  The man rolled the cart with her luggage inside before looking at the keycard and pressing the button for the upper level. A few other hotel guests squeezed in before the elevator door closed.

  Zola took the moment to quietly contemplate her plans. She had to get through the rest of this evening and tomorrow. If all didn’t go well with Shirou, she would attend the banquet, visit her family Sunday, and have dinner before catching a red-eye-flight back to Virginia so she could be back in the office come Monday morning.

  If things went well, she would look forward to staying and visiting friends and family the entire week. Shirou Tsubasa held the fate to not only her job for the fiscal New Year, but also the upcoming work week.

  But how was she to deal with him if he chose to be obtuse? She was already exhausted. Not just from it being a long week, but those extraordinary, mind-numbing orgasms made her feel languid and lazy. All she wanted to do now was wallow in the afterglow of her evening and take a long, hot bubble bath.

  There was no denying Shin had been such a wonderfully unexpected surprise to an otherwise shitty day. She wouldn’t have imagined at the beginning of her journey she would have done something so reckless, but she’d never felt so alive.

  A reflective smile played around the corners of her lips as she silently rode up in the elevator of the hotel. The boy had it going on. Intelligence, sex appeal in that understated way, and drop-dead gorgeous. And a nice cock, not too much on the long side but just right for her because she preferred her dick thick; its hardness stretching her snuggly until her clit too would get a good working out from the motion of his thrust.

  Ding.

  Her head snapped up at the sound of the elevator doors opening. The bellhop didn’t move as those who had stepped on last spilled out of the elevator onto their assigned floors.

  The doors reclosed, and her thoughts drifted back to her conundrum. Zola silently wished she’d had the opportunity to return Shin’s generosity. Oh my, she could only imagine what would have happened if someone at the convention had been on that same flight. Just because they were discreet, didn’t mean that flight attendant was stupid.

  He wasn’t as recognizable by his face as Bill Gates, but his name was as synonymous with solar power research and the charity work he was known for doing in third world countries as Gates was to Microsoft. It wouldn’t hurt the reputation of the golden “
egg head” of NASA’s research department, but it would ruin hers. It was already tough to be an African-American woman working in a male-dominated company. There were always rumors surrounding her based on the way the men respectfully treated her like a lady.

  An incident like this was just what the jealous women in the company would need to feed the lies they’d already spread about her. She didn’t want Shin believing this coincidence was a ploy to seduce him into speaking at the banquet.

  Speaking of being seduced, she was the one who had felt helpless under his wonderful fingers. Damn. Did the boy rip my expensive panties right off my ass or what? She never would have imagined behind the geek-pale exterior and thick glasses was a hard, muscled body of a man disguising exuberant passions. Having such an intelligent man under her fingertips was a heady experience she would like to have again.