Cafe Romance (43 page)

"Oh, I see," Yvette murmured looking down and away, then back at her slightly perturbed beau.

Having anticipated another chance meeting between the two, Yvette was ready to correct what amounted to be nothing more than a misconception on Kurt’s part, though she would approach the subject matter rather delicately.

"I take it you saw Antwan on your way in," she said politely, hiding her dismay at Kurt's breach of trust. "I don't know why I am explaining this to you, especially after the talk we had and after what we have shared intimately between us.

“Just the same, I can assure you that the person I am deeply mad about is standing right here in front of me," she smiled, her eyes gentle and compelling. "As for Antwan, I received a call yesterday from a very special person who informed me that she was flying into Tampa today to attend a church convention.

“Knowing that I would be unable to get off work in time to pick her up at the airport, and with you being out of town, I was left with very few other options. So I asked Antwan if he could pick my special guest up for me and bring her here. And if you’re wondering why I did not ask Juanita, she’s out of town, too. Kurt, I just did not have anyone else I could turn to. It's as simple as that."

For a moment Kurt was quiet and thoughtful. He slowly began to realize he had jumped the gun on this one. He felt he should have trusted her more.

Yvette leveled a gaze his way, then shrugged, her eyes uncertain. "Kurt, I still consider Antwan my friend. Please try to understand that. Anyway, why didn't you call me when you got in?  I would have told you then sweetheart that I was running behind schedule, and why."

"I did call," Kurt replied softly, with a slight sigh, then added, "but you were not home and your answering machine was not activated."

"Oops!  I’m sorry, dear! I forgot that I left my cell phone in the car. Please forgive me."

"Listen, I need to apologize for being short with you,” he said, feeling betrayed by the jealousy he had tried so hard to contain inside.  “I've been under a lot of stress this weekend. And I was anxious to see you. When I couldn’t get in touch with you, I grew concerned, that’s all."

"I understand," she said simply. "Like you said, baby, we'll talk about it later, okay?"

"I’m always a little tense after dealing with my sister, that’s all.”

“I see,” she returned, as her eyes studied his face. “Well, how would you like a well-deserved massage later, honey?”

“A massage?" he said with a toothy smile.

"Yes," she glowed. "You look like you can use one. How was the plane ride?"

"Pretty smooth. I’m just tired," he said, his eyes strained, as though he had not slept in days.

"Oh, my poor baby," she cooed, stroking his face tenderly with her hand.

The two stood glaring at each other, like young lovers sharing a visual confidence.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, lowering his face to her eye level. What he noticed most about her were her large and expressive eyes, soft and enchanting.

"Very much," she purred.

"Still care about me?"

"With every beat of my heart," she beamed.

Pulling her into his arms he said, "Then show me how much."

With a warm endearing smile, she snaked her arms up around his broad shoulders, and kissed him long and hard. In return, he tightened his embrace and kissed her back just as long, just as hard.

"My!  I guess you did miss me," he exclaimed, gazing into her lovely eyes.

"More than my words can ever convey," she beamed. "And you? Did you think about me?  Did you miss me?"

"More than any words can ever convey," he replied, his voice deep and sensual.

"I know you must be starving," she said brightly, teasing his hair with her fingers.

"Now that you mentioned it, I am!" He injected. "Hey, didn't you say you had someone you wanted to introduce me to?  Perhaps we ought to go upstairs and meet this special person."

She nodded yes, took him by the hand and together they ascended the staircase to her living quarters where she promptly introduced him to her mother, Ms. WaLinda Roberts and her mother’s friend, Elsie Walker.

Kurt took a deep breath, pushing down the impulse to run. Suddenly he wasn't feeling so enthusiastic. On the contrary he felt ill prepared for such an impromptu meeting.  He just wished he had been forewarned. Meeting mothers was as important as meeting heads of state. There were certain protocols to follow. For now, he would have to be his usual charming self without the advantage of advance warning. The three exchanged greetings and said a kind word or two about each other, from information they had garnished from prior conversations with Yvette.

Kurt sat down at the kitchen table, joining Ms. Roberts and Mrs. Walker, as Yvette poured him a cold glass of punch. Ms. Roberts was already sipping from a cup of hot coffee before her.

Yvette walked over. "I - I don't know where to begin...with your trip to New Jersey or mother's usher's convention," she stammered out.

"Kurt you go first," Ms. Roberts insisted. "I've got nothing but time on my hands for the next couple of hours. Besides, the convention begins tomorrow."

Good, Yvette thought. Now she would not have to divide her attention between her mother, Mrs. Walker, and Kurt. One would start off, then the other.

Yvette sat down at the table and joined her guests. As Kurt talked of his recent emotional visit to New Jersey the three women sat forward and listen intently. By the way they hung onto his every word he could sense they were moved by his experience in New Jersey. Afterwards, he apologized for not having a more pleasant story to tell them. They told him that they understood his frustration.

The conversation then turned to Kurt and Yvette’s own relationship. Her mother knew the two had met under heroic circumstances. She thanked a slightly embarrassed Kurt personally for intervening in her daughter’s behalf. Mrs. Walker, and quite mischievously, stunned the two by asking them, rather bluntly, when were they getting married? Near speechless, Yvette quickly explained that they were not even engaged. Mrs. Walker was not hearing any of this. She continued to tease them by saying that the way the two had been locking eyes throughout the conversation, she assumed they had to be at least engaged. Not one for being put off; she made them promise to invite her to the wedding, whenever that might be.

Yvette invited him to have dinner but he politely decline, explaining that he was feeling rather tired from the flight and felt that he needed to go home and get some rest. He thanked the three lovely women for a lovely evening, retrieved his brown bag, and pint of frozen yogurt, from Yvette's refrigerator, and left for home. He definitely wanted a rain check on that massage; he teased Yvette privately before leaving.

U
pon arrival at his grand but lonely estate Kurt eased the Chinese food in the microwave oven and set the timer. His cook was out for a couple of well-deserved days off. During this time, he had sunk back into a world of fast foods and microwave dinners.

Kurt was about to call it a day when the phone rang. It was Yvette calling to apologize for not giving him ample warning of her mother's visit. She said she had been caught by surprise too, by the short notice given to her. She did manage to endear him by relaying that her mother and Mrs. Walker were very impressed with him.

As their conversation drew on, he mentioned that he needed to get away. That he needed a mini vacation, of sorts. At that point Yvette suggested that they do something together. The two lovers made plans to travel to West Palm Beach for several days of sunshine, relaxation, and wet beaches. A done deal, he hung up the phone and ironed some clothes for work, watched Fox News, and then called it a night.

T
he workday came much too soon, for Kurt. The dream he had the night before, featuring Yvette, could have gone on another six hours, if he could have had his way. Arriving at work, he came face to face with another who wanted to be his dream come true. That person was none other than Carlotta Jones. She was his first client of the day. She was as beautiful as ever and dressed provocatively as ever. Talk about temptation. This sophisticated woman embodied it. 

"How are things Ms. Jones?" Kurt asked, as he sat down at his desk.  It had been nearly seven months since he last saw Carlotta.

"Just fine, Mr. Douglass," she answered in a soft sexy tone. "I see that your office still lacks a woman's touch."

Glancing about the office he said, "Well, I did hang a few posters on the wall since your last visit."

"I see," she almost purred, then added, "but they are agency posters. There's still nothing up there on the walls that's revealing in nature about you the person."

“As I said before, I believe one should cultivate a little mystery about themselves."

"I guess you have a point there. I can see how a little mystery can make a person more interesting."

"It’s not that far out a concept, Mrs. Jones.”

There was a pause.

"Well, I just stopped by to turn in some forms to Veteran’s Administration and to see how you were doing. As for myself, I am doing fine. I am working at a computer firm, now. The pay is good. The people are pleasant. I really like it. Being a civilian isn't as bad as I thought it would be. It is definitely better than life in the Air Force. By the way, you can call me Carlotta.  Please, I insist."

"Well, I am glad to hear about your good news, Carlotta. You are an extremely bright and intelligent woman. I hope everything works out for you. Matter-of-fact, I know things will work out for you."

"Thank you. You always have something positive to say when I come here. That means a lot to me. You know, perhaps I can treat you to lunch one afternoon."

"Perhaps Carlotta, as a friend."

"As friends," she echoed softly. "Sounds like someone’s already in the picture."

"There is."

"Then I must insist that we have lunch, as friends," she said endearingly. "What's your favorite cuisine?"

"Oh, I'm partial to Italian and Chinese, but I like Spanish cuisine, too."

"I love Italian and Chinese myself," she beamed.

There was another pause.

"Well, I didn't come here to take up all of your time. I guess I'll be on my way. Like I said, I was in the area and decided to drop by to see how you were doing," she said rising up from the chair in her tight form fitting skirt, her breasts about to spill out of her low cut blouse.

"I certainly appreciate the thought, Carlotta. Thank you for remembering me and for keeping me updated," he said going around the desk to open the office door.

Glancing back at her he tried his best not to be influenced by the, not so subtle cleavage show she was putting on for him, with the aid of her low cut blouse. As he held the door open, she passed through with a sultry look in her eyes then paused, assuming a sensuous pose, like a fashion model, while he closed the door behind them. He could not help but inhale the sweet fragrance of her perfume, which lingered in her wake, as he quickly joined her at her side. He escorted her to the main lobby. Boy, the hazards of being an agency field soldier on the social front lines, from day to day, he thought. 

Before departing Carlotta told him that she had left an envelope on his desk. It was a present for him from her, she said. For his eyes only, she emphasized. Back in his office, he found the small envelope near the edge of his desk, just as she said it would be. Sitting down on the edge of his chair he opened it slowly, curiously, and was shocked to find a semi-nude photo of Carlotta inside. The woman was definitely Penthouse material. With a smile he shook his head in disbelief then sank back into the chair.

After another quick appraisal he returned the photo to the envelope and placed it in his desk drawer. He was tempted to return it to her by mail but was not sure who would open it on that end.  Instead, he decided to return it to her on her next visit, a visit he did not have to worry about her not making. A woman who leaves a man a semi-nude photo of herself would certainly want to know what he thought of it, sooner or later. In this case, it was probably more sooner, than later, he hoped.

C
hapter 25

I
t was a splendid day to visit West Palm Beach. Sunny and clear blue skies. Refreshed after a day off from work, Kurt arrived at Yvette's condo on time in his luxury motorhome, his refurbished and vintage Corvette in tow. The two greeted one another with a hug. Yvette entered his palace on wheels and took a seat in the cockpit area. Up to this point, she thought he was still living out of his RV, only at a new location on the north side of town. Kurt had yet to tell her of his house purchase. With each passing day he wrestled with himself on when to let her in on his new home and opulent lifestyle. He did not like to keep things from her. He wanted her to know about his wealth, it was just a matter of when he should let her know.

After he finished loading up the exterior storage compartments of his RV, he climbed aboard, and they drove off. For Yvette, it was a purely sensual experience. The view from her perch was panoramically exhilarating, the ride smooth and relaxing.
Moonbeam
was living up to its reputation of quality, craftsmanship and comfort. It was indeed a magical moment for the two.

Four blocks later, he pulled the long motorhome into the parking lot of a neighborhood shopping center to buy a day's worth of groceries and snacks for the weekend trip. The 205-mile drive normally took three to four hours to traverse but the route he planned to take - the Florida Turnpike - would cut at least thirty minutes off of the drive. 

At the onset of the trip, Yvette sat comfortably in the extra-wide captain's chair to the right of him and watched digital satellite television on a large monitor above the cockpit area. Twenty minutes into the drive she left the front area and headed for the uniquely spacious kitchen to prepare them cold cut sandwiches. She also heated some chicken noodle soup she had made at
Café
from scratch and poured them drinks. Kurt ate his sandwich and sipped at his drink as he drove.