Cafe Romance (24 page)

A beaten and defeated woman? No, not quite, though she often found herself explaining to family and friends why she stayed. Close up, her friends rarely mentioned her troubling marriage, electing to exclude it from their conversation. From afar, they all wondered what to make of their volatile relationship. Perhaps she lacked self-esteem, some thought? Perhaps she derived some sort of sexual gratification from being abuse, they’d often huddle together in small circles to debate? The truth of the matter is, she felt Don was the gatekeeper of the world she had dreamed of living in ever since she saw reruns of Grace Kelley in
To Catch a Thief
and
The Swan
, during her early adolescent years. Both movies glamorized those who lived in a world measured by one’s power, wealth, prestige, influence, mink furs, luxury yachts, diamonds, expensive cars, celebrity guest lists, private jets, and exotic world travel. The last thing she wanted was for Don to shut her out of this coveted world.

K
urt leaned back into his leather recliner, the phone glued to his ear, a smile spread wide across his unshaven face as he chatted with Yvette. It had been a while since their last serious outing and she let him know it playfully. She even invited him to come along with her and Juanita for an evening out on the town, since tonight was
‘Ladies’
night, but Kurt told her he had an important project he was working on and had plans to turn in early. In a tone that was apologetic, he promised to make it up to her sometime during the following week.  

Standing up he walked into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed to rest for a moment. He was aware he still had dinner dishes collecting on the countertop ready to be put into the dishwasher. They can wait, he reasoned, wanting and needing some time to rest. While resting, he replayed images of Yvette’s lovely face gazing into his. He was about to drift off when he was summoned abruptly by the ringing of the phone nearby. Reaching over he grabbed the receiver.

He cleared his throat. “Hello,” he said in his usual low, composed voice. He could not imagine who it might be, especially after he had just spoken to Yvette. But he realized there was another possibility.

“Hello Kurt,” the voice spoke eagerly. “It’s me, Roxanne!” He was right about his hunch.

“How are you, Roxanne,” he replied uneasily. 

“Listen, I’m free tonight and I thought perhaps we could get together for a few hours.”

“I don’t know, Roxanne, I was just about to call it a day,” he retorted, the lines of deep concern etching along his brows and under his eyes. “Besides, I have no transportation at this time. My vintage car is in the shop being restored.”

Unwilling to take no for an answer she went on the initiative, “Look, this may be the best opportunity for us to get together, Kurt. Perhaps our only chance. Though Don is away it’s just like him to call me tomorrow night and Saturday. You know, to check on me. Those are the two nights he would expect me to go out on the town. Please Kurt. Couldn’t you catch a cab over?  I’ll pay. Then we could use my rental.”

Thinking that this just might be the best opportunity to get this outing behind him Kurt reluctantly agreed to escort her out. Besides, she was an old friend in a strange place. Surely he had time to show her the sights. “Give me an hour to get ready, okay!”

“Casual wear,” she prompted him. 

“Okay.”

Roxanne paced back and forth throughout the suite collecting herself and all that she needed to prepare to go out with. Her conversation with Kurt had her head spinning with bliss. Going over to the table in her bedchamber, she caught sight of her jewelry box and opened the small glass doors to view her prize diamond necklace and earrings. Oh, if this was that kind of night, she thought. But this was strictly a casual outing, nothing formal. Restoring the jewelry she snapped the miniature doors shut again.

Having showered earlier, she slipped into a pair of smoke-colored stockings with garter belt and straps. No pantyhose or panties tonight. She had every intention of making things easy for him. Just the thought of him inside of her made her nervously excited.

Stepping into a short black belted skirt that zipped up partially from one side she poised before the long mirror. A snug and sexy fit, she mused. Just what men like to feast their bulging eyes on. And she hoped that he was going to do a lot of feasting tonight
...
on her.

Walking over to the vertical blinds, clad only in her skirt and bra, she peered through one to see if he had arrived. He was nowhere in sight. She wondered if she had given him the directions with clarity. She’d give him a few more minutes before she really started worrying.

Returning to the dressing area she slipped on her Yves St. Clair long sleeve blouse with detachable jabot and fastened it. Seating herself daintily on the dressing room stool, she slipped her petite left nylon-clad foot into a black suede pump, then her right foot into the other. After inserting her earrings, three on each ear, she sprayed some
‘Moonlight Mist’
perfume around her earlobes and neck then collected her purse and walked into the living room.

She sat down and reached for the television remote, when the doorbell rang. Rising up, she crossed the small living room in a few long-legged strides. A voluptuous, striking woman, she had the confident walk of someone used to being the center of attention. After ensuring that the security latch was on, she cracked the door open. It was Kurt, and as tall and handsome and larger than life as ever.

 Politely declining to come inside, he waited on her at the door. When she returned with her purse, he escorted her to his Lexus rental. God! She was as lovely as they make them, he thought. And her sweet fragrance did not go undetected by him. He was quick to compliment her on her beauty, her stylish attire, and her intoxicating fragrance. She beamed in return; appreciative that he was the type of man who knew how to compliment a woman over thirty.

The two grabbed a hearty tossed-salad and spicy spaghetti meal at a local upscale Italian diner, and then headed over to the entertainment district a little over a mile away. In the area only two days, Roxanne had heard about a really ‘
happening’
club near the downtown waterfront.

After valet parking the rental the two walked up to the entrance of the club named Neptune’s Reef, their wide eyes captivated by the cabaret-styled marquee, which was shaped like a seashell. Roxanne, forever the life of the party, waltzed about blowing bubbles from a small bottle of bubble mix, her arm painting large loops in the air, liken to a pixie sprinkling star dust.

Amused, Kurt paid the cover charge and the two entered, ascending a crescent shaped stairway to an arched doorway leading into a huge outdoor area crowded with partygoers, many seated at a dimly lit sea of round cloth covered tables, others dancing on the large roof-top dance floor. Not far in the distance large potted tropical plants and trees lined the outer perimeter of the rooftop. The setting was Tropicana all the way.

It took a moment for their eyes to adjust but when they did they both took a moment to absorb the huge galaxy above which provided their ceiling, the moonlit bay off to the right, the perfect romantic touch.

Kurt led the way to a secluded table near some palms, off to the side of the dance area, and the two took their places there. The music was loud, and festive. The song playing was a Jackson’s tune called ‘
Lovely One’
, featuring the late Michael Jackson.

Out of the darkness, a very polite and buxom waitress appeared and took their order. As he talked, Roxanne sat back and regarded her handsome escort with wide, despairing eyes. She ordered a Rum and Coke. Kurt, a Whiskey Sour on the rocks. 

The waitress returned with their order on a round tray. Accepting her tip, she pocketed it, thanked Kurt with a smile, then moved on to another table.

Turning to face Roxanne, he gave her a long, steady look. “Enjoying yourself?”  Without hesitation, she replied, “More than you can ever imagine, Kurt.”

 Though skeptical about this whole outing, Kurt allowed himself to smile. It wasn’t all that bad. After all, Roxanne was a very attractive woman, beauty pageant material, and a woman many men would give their right arm to go out with.

Relaxing some, he stirred his drink, brought it to his mouth and sipped the liquid contentedly. She sipped at her cocktail too, very ladylike, watching him until his eyes caught hers again. 

“God, it’s so beautiful up here, Kurt,” she beamed.

With a smile, he nodded in agreement. 

Leaning towards him, with animated eyes, she asked, “Do you know how to do the
Electric Slide
?”

“I think I remember,” he answered, regarding her with a sober curiosity.

“Listen, I’ll be right back,” she said with an infectious smile and a satisfied look in her eyes. Kurt watched with even greater curiosity as she faded from view, her hourglass body melting away his cautious ways, inch by inch, her tight black skirt sinfully corrupting his thoughts. In a moment she returned, taking both of his hands, saying, “Come on! Let’s dance! They’re about to play my song, the
Electric Slide
.”

Rising up, he let her lead the way onto the busy dance floor, her left hand grasping his. In a moment nearly all thirty plus partygoers on the dance floor grouped up, then began stepping and sliding and shuffling their bodies synchronously
...
real funky-like. As he got into the mix, he actually felt rejuvenated.  For the moment he was twenty years old again.

Roxanne, a smooth and skillful dancer, showcased all of her best moves for Kurt. With large round eyes that gleamed, full ruby painted lips that were inviting, her dark hair danced about unrestrained as she turned and twisted to the beat of the calypso inspired beat.

Kurt had a few moves to his own credit to display. He had always been a good dancer and dresser, she recalled. Shaking her head in delight, she made another one of her trademark moves, dipping low, as she showed off her shapely thighs, along with her agility. She had not had this much fun since he escorted her to their senior high school prom, some fifteen plus years earlier. Maybe twice, in her long marriage to Don, had she come half as close to having this much fun.

Though his benevolent eyes occasionally focused on her, Kurt could not possible know how much pain and suffering she had endured in her marriage to Don. He could not know how many times she had told herself that when she ran into him again, she would find a way to express how sorry she was for all the hurt she had caused him. With the apologies behind her now, it was like old times again. And for a second time in their history, it was like their first night together all over again for the two former lovers. Moving to the rhythm of the music, they delighted in each other magnetism and athleticism on the dance floor, just as they delighted in each other many years before on a different dance floor.

When the tempo of the music slowed down considerably, she enticed Kurt into slow dancing with her. Without protest, he embraced her, the clean scent of his freshly showered body sending ripples throughout her own body, making her weak with desire. And it turned her on even more when she rubbed her soft smooth face against his freshly shaven skin. Manly things like that melted her. It had been nearly eleven years since Don made her feel whole and complete, as a woman. Since that time, his lovemaking came at longer intervals. Even then it was more like rape. This was definitely not her idea of love and romance. What woman looked forward to bedding a man who’s claim to fame was forcing himself on her, or running an under three minute Quik-lube special on her, only to roll over and fall asleep? She was sure he was keeping company with another.

As they danced, Kurt inhaled the fragrance below her earlobe and felt a rush of passion shoot throughout his body. Her body was soft, feminine, and firm. It just did not come any better than this. But for all the wonderful memories he and Roxanne once shared, and no matter that this was the perfect setting, she was the wrong woman for the occasion. And he was beginning to feel guilty about turning down Yvette’s invitation to go out. For the third time tonight he made a mental note to make it up to her, and soon.

Reclaiming their table the two sat down and ordered another round of drinks.

“God!  I haven’t had this much fun in years,” Roxanne beamed.

“Don’t you and Don ever go out?” he inquired, looking at her intently.

Roxanne, unable to help herself, burst out laughing. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to laugh, Kurt. It’s just that the man’s a complete bore. My husband and I do not even sit at the same table to eat. It’s a wonder we share the same bed.”

“I would have thought you two were having the time of your lives.”

“Yeah, I wished,” Roxanne replied, drawing her lips in thoughtfully.

There was a pause.

“Doesn’t sound like you two are hitting it on all six cylinders. Are you?” 

“Haven’t for a long time,” she said, with a strained chuckle, as a warm tear rolled down her cheek.

Kurt looked away momentarily. He returned his gaze to her, saying, “Look, I didn’t mean to probe. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” she murmured, accepting a tissue from him to wipe away her tears. When she lifted her eyes, the tears were gone but the pain still flickered there. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured him.

Leaning back into the chair, Kurt exhaled. He couldn’t believe that anyone would neglect such a woman and all of these years.

“How’s your sister Trish doing?” Roxanne said, in an attempt to change subjects.

“Not well,” he felt resigned to say. “She’s into drugs and that outcast scene.”

“No!  Trish would be the last person I would think to go the counter-cultural route.”

“Well, sometimes, it happens to those you would least expect.”

There was a pause as a waitress stopped by to collect the empty glasses.

“You, you were always a step ahead of everyone else, Kurt,” Roxanne declared.  “You always had an idea where you were going in life. I admire that in you. Always have.”