A Seal Upon Your Heart (28 page)

New York, for free! Even if she had to work it didn’t matter. She was going to New York! She decided that she’d shoot her friend an email instead. She’d get with Claudette after lunch. Now her belly was twisting and turning. Maybe she should go to the restroom and check her appearance.

Martier stared at herself in the mirror. She slowly reached up and removed the pins from her hair. The hair care products that had been sold to her by the Asian’s had done wonders in taming her curls. Her hair no longer looked like a lion’s mane. She finger combed it and then fluffed it into place. Her dark curls ran down her back completely frizz free. Hmm, she should have had that when she’d tried everything from Baby oil, to body lotion to tame her locks.

She checked out her slender body and made sure that her bra wasn’t peeking out from the folds of the dress. Claudette had thrust four pretty bras into her hands and she was happy because the dress had a low neckline and she wouldn’t want anyone to get a peek at one of her old white bras.

She returned to her desk nervously and wondered what she’d do if Karl didn’t show up. Well that wasn’t to be the case. He was standing at her desk at 11:58. 

“Hi there, beautiful.” Her face warmed. And then she took in his perfect appearance. Karl was no slouch in the looks department. He wore a simple black suit with a thin tie. His tighter pants made him look very hip and it didn’t hurt that he had a nice body to showcase it. She stood up…too bad he was a good four inches shorter than her.

He didn’t seem to notice, or he liked her height. But she noticed.

“You look fabulous.”

“Thank you.” She beamed and grabbed her purse. They walked to the garage together and several people looked at the couple. She knew that she was far from the slouching convent girl that had worn ill-fitting navy skirts and squeaky shoes to work. Well at least on the outside she was different.

“And where would the pretty lady like to go for lunch?” He said once they were in the garage. She heard the chirp chirp sound as he disengaged the locks of a black Porsche. She gave him a look of respect. He couldn’t have been thirty and he was driving a Porsche.

He opened the door for her and she shook her head. “You decide.”

Once he was inside he studied her. “Do you like ethnic food? I know a great Indian Restaurant in Oakley. Have you ever been to Baba?”

“I’ve never had Indian.”

“Really?”

She smiled shyly. “But I like to try new things. If you’ll help me decide I’d like to try it.”

“Excellent!” He turned the radio on to jazz and she liked that he asked her if she liked jazz. She told him she did.

“So have you been in the states long, Martier? Your accent is very hard to place but I’ve heard African dialect spoken before.”

“I’ve lived in the states most of my life.” So that he wouldn’t think of asking her what part of Africa she was from she turned the tables and began asking him questions.

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“I work in Aaron Rangbo’s department as a tax attorney.”

“Oh! So you know Claudette.”

His face became closed. “That busybody. Yes I know her.”

Martier’s stomach sunk. “Busybody?”

“That one likes to poke her nose into everybody’s business. Since you’re new here I’ll give you some advice, stay far away from that one. Once she knows your business she spreads your business.”

Martier didn’t respond. Karl changed the subject and talked while Martier listened and they finally reached the small Indian restaurant. He placed his hand at the small of her back as he led her into the restaurant and she couldn’t help but to shiver at the contact.

After they were seated he stared deeply into her eyes and she became slightly uncomfortable. “Martier. I hope you don’t mind me asking but…have you ever modeled?”

She almost guffawed at that. “No!”

“Why are you laughing? You are absolutely gorgeous. Men must tell you that all of the time.”

She shook her head and looked down shyly. Perhaps if she had ever been allowed around men. Other than the Priest and such or professionals, Martier had rarely been in the company of males. Sitting across from Karl was a first for her…well other than Tim. And this was…well it was like a date, wasn’t it?

The waiter came and Karl helped her to order. He suggested chicken tiki masala and aloo nan bread. He promised to share his aloo gobhi with her after determining that she liked cauliflower. After that they talked at length about ethnic foods and she could tell that Karl liked trying new things just as she did.

He hesitantly offered to take her to a Korean restaurant for kimchee. She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no, only that it sounded interesting. When the food came she found it very good and spicy. She even liked his spicy cauliflower and potatoes dish. He also had chicken curry and she decided that she liked Indian very much. It wasn’t much different from the food that she still remembered eating as a child in Africa.

They couldn’t linger and headed back to the office. He took her hand gently as he led her back to her cubicle.

“Thank you for a lovely lunch.” She grinned like a fool when he kissed her hand. Tim’s door opened just when Karl lowered her hand. He looked from one to the other.

“Karl.” He said.

“Hello Tim.” Karl responded.

“How’s it going?”

“Much better now,” he said while looking at Martier. Tim gave Martier a surprised look and then felt a twinge of anger.

“Martier when you’re…through here, please come into my office.” Tim ignored Karl as he returned to his office, closing the door behind him.

~***~

Karl? He looked ridiculous standing next to her. She towered over him for god’s sake! Tim paced his office. Was she with him last night? And was he the one that was going to take her to mass tonight? Well why hadn’t she ever asked him to take her? He felt his stomach take a nosedive. Shit, he’d screwed this up royally. He’d pushed her away.

Tim sighed and ruined his hair by running his fingers through it. He’d kissed her and then had gone out with another woman without ever acknowledging it. What an idiot! Tim, you’re an idiot. This girl looked at you like…you had the sum of all the answers in the universe and you go and…ruin it.

He sat down slowly in his chair and rubbed his cheek. Karl French; up and coming black attorney; smart, handsome, rich. She could do worse. She wasn’t just settling for the first guy to look her way, was she? He felt incredibly sad.

When Tim got home that evening he changed into jeans, biker boots and a leather jacket. He walked out to the garage and started his Harley. He hadn’t ridden in a few years. He drove it out into the drive-way and checked the gauges. Everything looked good. He dusted off the helmet and slipped it on his head before zooming off.

He rode into Kentucky and down Dixie Hwy. It made him sad. Corrine used to sit behind him, her delicate body molded along his back and he’d think about how much he couldn’t wait to get back home and make love to her.

He went faster.

He parked along the Ohio River and sat on his bike watching the sunset. The he drove to the Madd Crab and decided to have a few beers.

Martier returned home at a little before eight. The lights in Tim’s house were out. She walked by grimly. She hadn’t gone to mass. She had nothing to say to God. Instead she’d walked to the library. She decided to borrow some movies and music along with books. The movies all looked stupid; stories about spacemen, boogiemen, fast cars and drug dealers. She asked the librarian to pick something for her. The older woman had been happy to do so.

“Let’s stick with the classics. Do you like romances, mystery, suspense-?”

“All of the above--as long as there is nothing scary in it.” She didn’t think she could deal with watching a scary movie and then turning out the lights and seeing the shadows of the trees against her darkened walls.

The Librarian gave her a classic Alfred Hitchcock movie called Marnie, and another with Sidney Poitier called A Patch of Blue. Martier thanked the woman and after checking out a new romance novel she found a Mariam Makeba CD to listen to. She than called the African cab driver who again only charged her $15. She wondered if he would ever charge her more than that no matter where she was located.

She gave him a quick goodbye and hurried into her darkened house. She turned on the light in the kitchen, lit one of the scented candles and slipped in the Mariam Makeba CD. It played softly as she quickly sautéed some fresh vegetables with a chicken breast for her dinner. She kicked off her shoes and hummed to the beautiful music. Martier closed her eyes and danced to herself. This music…it was home. She couldn’t remember but she knew the feeling it brought. She decided that she would listen to African music every single day of her life.

It was after eleven before she climbed into her bed. She’d watched both movies and loved them, sobbing openly. Before climbing into bed she checked once more for Tim’s house lights. He still wasn’t home. Nodding she closed her eyes. Priscilla. Rich. White. Big rack.

~***~

Jakob was cursing when he saw the bike. It was 12:37 am. “Damnit Tim. It’s not Friday! And I can’t freaking drive a motorcycle with a drunk man on back.”

“I’m not drunk.” Tim slurred and weaved on his feet. The ground came crashing up to meet him. When he woke up again he was in a cab with Jakob. He touched his lip, split. He was a lot more sober now and tried to remember if he’d gotten into a fight this time.

“Where’s my bike?”

“Back at the bar.”

He knew better than to respond. Jakob was glaring out his window. What a shitty thing for him to do; get Jakob out of bed on a work night. But somehow he had gotten into his brain that it was Friday and well…still not a good excuse.

“I think I fucked up.” He mumbled and rubbed his face.

“You think?” Jakob responded sarcastically while turning to him.

His shoulders raised in concession. “I mean with Martier.”

“Martier?” Jakob’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“I think I…have feelings for her.”

“Shit…don’t do that to her, Tim. From what you told me-”

“Don’t do
what
to her?”

“You don’t fuck with a girl like that, Tim!”

“I wasn’t going to do that! That’s what you do Jakob, not me.”

“It’s the same thing Tim!” He snapped. “Except the girls I’m with know the deal. That girl that lives in your back yard doesn’t. You won’t do that to her-!”

“I wasn’t…I’m not. Look if I just wanted that then I’d do like you and hire assistants for how big their tits are. And you’re fucking wrong if you think they all know the deal—some of them really think you love them, Jakob.”

They rode in silence all the way back to Tim’s house. Before he got out the cab, Tim reached into his wallet and pulled out enough money to cover the ride. As the cab drove off he looked at his best friend feeling sick but not from the alcohol.

“I’m sorry Jakob. I was out of line.”

Jakob made a face and finally turned to Tim. “Whatever.” He got into his car without waiting for Tim to enter the house and drove off. Tim cursed grimly. So this is what it felt like to lose Jakob’s friendship; like total shit.

CHAPTER 25