5. Deliciously tempting man

He ran a hand through his hair again and softened his expression. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Look, this is what I want to pay. It's not too much. In fact, it’s too little."

"And if I don’t’ take it?"

"Then I'll find some other way to get it to you. You can either take it from my hands now or get conned into taking it from someone else’s. And by then it will be doubled." Someone else like Scott, I'm sure. 

I glared at this unorthodox male in confusion before capitulating. What an odd, odd man. And one who's too damn hot for his own good.

As I made to leave, I realized he hadn't asked for my number. Given his inexplicable familiarity, I considered the possibility he already had it, but I decided not to risk the

opportunity of a job interview. "You don’t have my number."

He looked up at me through his too-long lashes, and for the first time since I’d been here, he fully smiled. A disarming, I-can-make-you-cum-like-this smile.

Disappointment jabbed at me. It'd been a millennium since I've been so magnetically attracted to anyone. But this man wanted only friendship. And on top of that he scared the living daylights out of me, and confused me to the point where my brain protested.

"I'll give you mine," he said smoothly. He reached inside his jacket pocket for a business card and offered it, but suddenly pulled it back with a frown. "Never mind, just type it in your phone as I say it."

I shook my head at his umpteenth bewildering action for the night, took out my cell phone and transcribed the numbers as he said them. It was when my phone prompted me for a name that I realized I'd been chattering with the man, agreeing to friendship, accepting favors and lusting, all without knowing his name. "Um, I didn't get your name?"

Smile number two was even more beguiling.  He leaned forward with his palms flat on his thighs, just as he'd done earlier, fixed his eyes on mine, and breathed, "Josh."

And I couldn't, for the life of me, command my eyes to leave his. Why did he say his name like that? Hope-filled and promising. This man is...I don't know.

Once again, I couldn't shake the thought he was trying to convey something with his eyes. But what? I shook my head to clear it, entered his name and saved the number. My ears were not oblivious to his heavy sigh as he leaned back on the banquette.

Unable to utter another syllable to this mystifying man, I exited the booth and strolled with purpose through the lights-flashing, music-pumping club. Resisting the urge to look back at the perplexing Mr. Mysterious in Black who wanted only to be my friend. 

***

I was clothed in white. All-white. And there was a crown of lilies upon my head. I was standing on a river bank, gazing at the cascading waterfall. The sound was heavenly and the skies above me were clear. The weather couldn't have been more temperate. Whiter than snow were the clouds, and the sky was the bluest blue. The water splashed the river bank, asking me to trust it. So I stepped from the bank and into the river. It was soothing, and clear. Very clear. I stared at my feet in the transparent water, then wiggled my toes. Whisperingly, the water responded. It pleaded for my trust, and I yielded. I waded deeper into the cool river water, spread my arms and fell back. The river caught me, assuring me of its virtue, and sent me afloat. Away I floated, dressed in all-white, my arms spread wide...

My eyes flickered open.

Wow, that has got to be the most peaceful dream I've ever had in my entire life. With a residual smile, I swung out of bed. I glanced at my bedside clock and noted it was almost noon.

Just then, the doorbell rang and I knew without doubt it was Julia. On a moan, I padded from the bedroom, down the hall, and through the living room. My fingers scarcely turned the doorknob when Julia barged in.

"Hey, grumpy," she lilted after she popped her gum.

"Sup, nuisance? I yawned, rubbing my eyes. “Where's Tev?"

She plopped herself on the couch and switched on the television. "Working."

I snorted. "Working or hustling?"

Julia shrugged. "Same difference."

Excusing myself, I disappeared to the bathroom to freshen up and popped a Ginko biloba pill down my throat. An herbal remedy I took every day in hopes it would help with my memory. You see, my father used to be an abusive man to both my mother and me. And seven years ago, he whacked me in the head with a baseball bat, and it sent me into a two-day coma. I woke up with retrograde amnesia, not remembering anything prior to the head injury. Although my doctor told me recalling events close to the injury would be rare or unlikely, as years went by pieces of my memory sluggishly came back to me. Doctors reason that it may not be my true memories, and quite possibly my own imaginations.

 But don’t all doctors think they know everything? Even my own damn memory? What do they have to say about people who just become miraculously healed from terminal illnesses? Doctors aren’t God.

 I knew they were my memories, because people from my past confirmed the events I recalled as true and exact.

I plodded back into the living room where Julia was sprawled on the sofa watching some crappy MTV reality show. The apartment I shared with my absentee roommate was a luxurious one, and more than I should’ve been able to afford. But my roommate, Jane, was another rich gal like Julia, and her moneybag parents bought her the place. Because of her mutual friendship with Julia, she charged me less than half of the rent price.

The space screamed modern, displaying high-end furniture and appliances. My bedroom was big enough to be divided into two bedrooms for a regular-sized apartment, and my bathroom was half that size. Yep, I slept on a king-size bed, watched a fifty-inch flat-screen television and cooked in a gourmet-style kitchen. One would never believe I was up to my neck in debt with the way I dwelled. Everyone around me was prosperous, except me. I was just a sponger.

Making my way into the kitchen, I opened the cupboards on my side, scanning the contents. My roommate’s healthy crap was off-limits, so ramen noodles would have to suffice. A reminder that I seriously needed to go grocery shopping.  I set a container of water in the microwave to heat.

"So what're ya plans for today?" Julia asked from the living area.

"Staying in and sketching. I need to create a portfolio."

Julia turned to look at me, folding her arms on the edge of the sofa and resting her chin on top of them. "What brought that on?"

To my surprise, I blushed. Uh, what the heck? "I have this, um, friend who knows some important designer and has offered to get me an interview."

Julia raised a neatly shaped brow, her interest piqued. "A friend? Do I know this friend?"

"No. I met him last night."

"Him?"

"Yes, Julia. The new acquaintance is a 'him'."

"And do you normally blush like that when you talk about friends who are 'hims'?" she asked, her brow still raised. "I've never seen you that flushed when you talk about Tev, and I'd kill you if that happened."

With a roll of my eyes, I confessed. "Okay Julia, I admit, I'm attracted. He's frickin’ hot. And I mean panty-seat-goes-wet-on-the-spot hot!"

"But?"

"He just wants to be friends," I shrugged.

"Oh." Julia frowned. "Odd."

"Yes, oh and odd." Every darn thing about the man was odd. I wondered if he also had an odd—

The microwave beeped and dragged me from thoughts about to take a stroll down naughty lane. I poured hot water in my ramen cup soup, waited a couple minutes for the noodles to soften, then went to sit beside Julia on the couch. She seemed a little distracted.

"You okay, sis?"

She shook her head. "Dad's buying me an apartment. He says it's time for me to wake up, go out, and learn to live on my own. I'm scared."

I assessed my beautiful, dark-haired, fraternal sister whose major worry was living on her own. Mr. Mitchell, her father, was a well-known oil tycoon, her mother was successful in the architectural field, and Julia sat lazily on her MBA. She'd obediently gone through college and acquired such only to appease her parents. She was, like me, an only child. And she simply lived in luxury. Whatever she desired was dropped in her palm before she even completed the request.

But her father was right, she needed to step out into the world and endeavor to be her own woman. She was highly educated, intelligent and fluent when needed. But she didn't possess an ambitious spirit. Maybe if she had a sibling to contend with, then she might have been pushed to do something. Being around a hustler—Michael— and an unemployed, aspiring designer—myself—twenty-four-seven, provided no motivation to do better.

"Your father's right, Julia. You're a spoiled brat."

She folded her arms and pouted. Point made.

"Your daddy won't be around forever. You need to learn to make good decisions and so far, you suck at it—just like me. You have the opportunity to choose. Many people, myself included, don't. I've told you before, and he knows my opinion, Tev is bad for you." I set my cup of soup on the coffee table and took her hands in mine. "Look at what happened to Cali D. I could have been there and I would be dead, too.

Learn from my mistake, Julia. I love Tev to death but he's not good for you."

Michael had been my friend and brother for six years. He'd been Cali D's right-hand man when I met him. Because he was around to keep me company when Cali D wasn't, we’d grown extremely close. But the greedy ingrate Cali D was known to be, eventually caused him and Michael to become enemies. Michael and I retained our growing friendship, nevertheless.

One day while he was giving me a lift from college, we saw this bodacious beauty on the roadside looking pissed and annoyed that her CLK tire was flat. Michael pulled over to her aid, and for them, it was love at first sight. They were instantly drawn to each other and became inseparable. Julia and I grew to become best friends.

Julia stared at me with wet, green eyes, and she swung her arms around me. "I know. I know he's bad. But I love him too much to give him up. I worry a lot that something might happen, like what happened to Cali D. But I just can't...I love Tev, Dalia."

"I know you do. Let's just invoke a divine intervention for him and hope his road to Damascus is near," I soothed, knowing that was next to impossible. Michael had made it clear a zillion times he wanted no other life. There are some bad guys who wanted desperately to be good, and some bad guys who’re right where they wanna be.

"Will you move in with me when I get the apartment?" Julia asked. "Gratis. No rent."

I laughed. "I'll think about it. I'm already disgusted with you and Tev here tongue bathing each other around the clock. Living with it? Chronic gagging."

"Let's go shopping. I need to lift my spirits.” She wiped the tears from her brilliant green eyes.

Shopping. Yes, I needed fabrics and a few apparatuses to start working on my portfolio. "Sure."