Lust (3 page)

Ten minutes later they finish their coffee, and thoughtfully bring the cups back to the counter as they leave.

“Thanks. See you tomorrow,” I say.

“Bye, Lissa,” Maxine replies, waving at me with her fingers.

“You have a good one, now,” Sean says, and with another steaming look, which takes in every part of me, he's out the door.

There are quite a few other customers here, but it instantly feels cold and empty, now that Sean's glowing essence has departed. He has a blatant sexuality, a special presence, an aura of some kind. He's the type of man I want to bathe in, to drown myself in, from head to toe. I walk swiftly to the window, with the pretense of collecting some cups, to watch him walking away.

The confident set of his head and the smoothly co-ordinated, gliding movements of his limbs and body captivate me. I stand on tip-toe and crane my neck to get a last glimpse of him as they cross the street, and mount the steps of a tall, gray-stoned building a little way down the other side.

So close and yet so far.

When I moved to New York from Chicago to do my degree, I took a while choosing a neighbo
rhood. I looked at apartments almost everywhere— Carroll Gardens, Chinatown, Park Slope, Soho, Lower East Side, Greenwich— each had its own pluses and minuses. Eventually, I decided on a place in Greenwich Village for the ten minute trip to the Central University, and the ease of getting out and about. It was the most expensive area I looked at, but I liked the small room and my parents were fairly well off and able to help me out for a while. But now it's all up to me, and I really need some cash. Working full time in Coffee Haven should make a lot of difference. I breathe a sigh of relief that my finances won't be strangling me for much longer.

Joanne, a forty year old librarian and I share a small apartment. Charlotte lives with another girl close by us. When she's out of her lease agreement, we plan to share something together. But for now, it's not far between us and it's dead convenient for work.

As I leave the coffee shop, at the end of my shift, I head toward the subway. To my surprise, Sean is leaning against the wall, nearby, flicking at his cell.

“Hello, again,” I stop by his side.

“Hey,” he says, looking up and smiling widely.

“Enjoying the view?” I ask, humorously.

“It has its charms,” his eyes flare at me, “actually, I'm waiting for someone who's visiting from L.A. and this place is easy to find.” He points at the large bright red coffee cup sign which hangs above the door.

“
Yo
, where've you been hiding yourself, man?” A guy says loudly, laughing as he approaches him.

“
Hey, Jasey
.”

They have an enthusiastic, noisy, back-slapping, manly hug of greeting. I notice Jasey's very tall, dark and handsome. As I look from Sean to his friend, I'm thinking this is a very pleasant place to be standing. But, I realize, I'm imposing on their reunion, and I make to leave.

“I'd better go, see 'ya,” I say, but Sean takes my arm and stops me.

“Lissa, wait up. This is my pal Jase. Jase, Lissa.”

“Are you two umm...?” he asks, looking between the two of us curiously.

I laugh in acute embarrassment, catching Sean's amused grin. “
No!
We only met this morning. I've just started working in there.” I cock a thumb at the coffee shop behind me.

“Well, I'm real pleased to meet you,” he says, giving me the full once over.

“Yeah, hi,” I reply, trying to look cool and calm and used to this kind of attention.

“I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I'm a real caffeine junkie.”

“I'll be there, ready and waiting to serve you.”

“That sounds
very
appealing,” he chuckles.

I know that Sean's eyes haven't left me for a second. I can feel them burning into me. I cast a glance to find him standing cross armed and straight faced.

“You guys have a good evening, anyway.”

This is the ideal opportunity to invite him to the party, then I can run.

“Lissa, there's something I'd like to ask,” Sean says as I'm about to open my mouth.

Oh God, no... he's not gonna ask me on a date?
I panic, wildly. This could be a real disaster. I divert the conversation quickly.

“Actually, there's something I'd like to ask you. Saturday night, Charlie and I have a birthday party planned, in Coffee Haven. Wanna come? The both of you? Free bar, food, music. You can get trashed and and it's only one minute to stagger home...” I giggle.

“Cool. I'm up for that, what about you pal?” Jase jumps in quickly, looking to Sean for confirmation.

“Yeah, it'll be fun,” Sean agrees.

“Great, now I'd better run, I'm meeting someone,” I lie.

They both say goodbye as I hastily rush away with a wave.

As I walk down the street, weaving in and out of the people passing by, I'm thinking I need to get Charlotte in with a fighting chance. To help her look her best. So when she gets him in her clutches, which she no doubt will, he'll see something he might like.

I squash on the crowded sub-way and send her a text.

- Just met Prince Sean and his friend Jase outside. They're are coming to the ball on Saturday. You need help, Cinders. Want further details?

- GREAT !!!!!!!!! Go on, hit me with it.

- Hair color - tone down to a normal shade of blonde (ditch the fuschia ends) - I have the perfect dress for you, so forget that strange creation you were going to wear - take ALL that junk out of your face - and you might just get to have him

- But I love my pink hair :(

- Sexy Sean or marshmallow hair - your call  :/

It's a quick ride and I'm off the disgusting perspiration-scented train. I get home, whiz around and eat, and then I rummage through my minute and over crowded clothes cupboard. I find the little black dress I have in mind screwed in a ball at the back. It needs a visit to the washing machine, but it's just the thing for Charlotte. Mid thigh, and not cut too low. It's made from a stretchy fabric with a slight glitter effect to it and I'm sure it'll hug her little body just right. I would have worn it myself, but she's more in need of glamor than I am. I don't have anyone to impress. Charlotte's three inches shorter than my tall five nine, and slim. Actually I'm slim and she's way too thin, but I can't tell her that right now. I want to boost her confidence not flatten it. I poke around and find my other black number. It has chiffon, full length sleeves, a short circular skirt with an acre of chiffon to twirl and a decent V neckline. That'll do for me. I'll be the elegant black swan to her black sex kitten. We both have a pair of high heeled pumps to match. That's all we need. Apart from the statutory red lipstick.

I look i
n the wardrobe mirror at myself. What I see is a heart shaped face, reasonably attractive, regular features, hazel eyes and long, chestnut brown hair, which has a tendency to wave a lot. I'm not that bad to look at.

I drop both the dresses in the washing machine, along with my favorite black underwear.

After that, I have a mad burst of energy and tidy up the apartment. Joanne is away, on vacation for a fortnight, so I have the place to myself. I finish my tidying and place two piles of things on Jo's bed awaiting her return. Then I vacuum and spray everything with a good dose of freshener, and plump up the cushions on the sofa. All that activity has left me dying for a nice long shower, after which, I flop on the sofa.

I settle down to watch an old movie on cable. As the story unfolds, everything seems so much more simple and innocent than today's fast paced world. I wonder if I'll ever find a love like this. A sweet and lovely guy who'll be everything to me. I can't see it happening.

So far, my experience sucks.

They want to play the field forever. It's not like I date young guys either, I tend to go for older ones, in their late twenties, and haven't yet met one who wants to settle down and get married. They're all jaded and scarred by their parent's divorces or can't see the point in it. It's too expensive, risky and old fashioned and requires something called 'long term commitment', which they've apparently never heard of. And as for kids...duh? What the hell are they? An unnecessary inconvenience, and not a great life priority, with all the guys I meet.

Maybe I am old fashioned in my attitude, wanting the dream, the fairytale love affair, to live happily ever after, with two sweet little children.

Actually, it's not really that much of a dream or a fairytale that I'm looking for. All I really want is for someone to love me, and me alone, to be faithful and want a future together.

That's not so much to ask, is it?

A voice resounds in my head, one that sounds distinctly like my ex, Andy, and it tells me, 'Well yeah, it is. Way too much like hard work, baby, and frankly, dead boring.'

It's sad that my moral convictions have only served to bring me sadness and pain. Charlotte seems to be very happy and enjoying her uncommitted, sex-filled lifestyle. Who am I to say I'm right and she's wrong? Perhaps I should think again about molding her to my way of thinking.

Maybe I could dip my toe in her water for a while— and have some uncommitted fun of my own.

It would make a pleasant change not to get hurt.

The idea is firmly lodged in my brain for further consideration.

I have to think about it, like everything I do.

Day two at work, is a lot less stressful than day one. It's awful being new and feeling like a fish out of water. But at least I know what I'm doing now, and the work has no major unknowns for me. Nothing unknown, but for whom walks through that door. We see no sign of Sean, but Jase appears in his stead at ten thirty for three drinks to take out. Two cappuccino's and one mocha. I don't serve him myself as I'm on the customer side, doing cleaning duties.

Jase's eyes are constantly on me and he stops to chat and tells me my hair is lovely as he leaves. He gives me a very hot look, one which speaks volumes.

The day passes by and we still see no sign of Sean, but Jase appears twice in the afternoon and he's full of flirtatious looks and compliments, as he chats me up.

It's late in the afternoon. Jase wanders over to the tables by the window, where I'm starting to do some more spills cleaning.

“Doesn't Charlie take a turn with the clean up?”

“She's the self appointed supervisor, I'm the junior staff,” I say, briefly looking up at him while I rub at a chocolate smear with my damp cloth.

“She's a slave driver you mean,” he says with a chuckle.

I smile wryly at him. It's true, she does like to order me around a little too much.

“So what do you do, Jase?” I ask, as I spray the next table and start cleaning it energetically.

“Modeling menswear, mens grooming and other guy stuff.”

“So you're working together?”

“Oh no, this is purely social. And we never work together. We have different clients.”

“Visit Sean often, do you?”

“This is my first visit to New York since he moved here. We've been too busy to hang out.”

He puts his hand on my arm, to draw my full attention and to stop me cleaning for a moment. I look at him, taking stock properly, for the first time. His short, dark, curly hair glistens beneath the electric lights with a tawny hue. His eyes are deep brown and his eyelashes are thick and luscious. His even features, olive skin tone and full lips combine with his broad shoulders, to give a very sensual Latino appearance. But despite his obvious appeal, I can't help but prefer Sean. He has a mean and moody look about him. A bad boy look. Sulky and a little mysterious. Andy had that kind of look too. God knows why I like that type of look, it's obviously not healthy, but I do.

I seem to be thinking far too much about Sean. And fantasizing about him. Last night I was physically fantasizing.

I studiously ignore my inner preference and put some effort into the hot guy before me.

As I smile broadly at Jase, his whole face lights up. I'm kinda warming to him.

“Looking forward to Saturday?” I ask.

“Yeah. And Lissa, are you gonna be with someone?”

“I'm trying to choose between Robert Pattinson and Zac Efron for my date. Apparently, they're both desperate to come with me.”

He laughs as I move off, to clean the next table.

“I'd love
come
with you, just say the word.” He flares his eyes, suggestively.

“Walked right into that one, didn't I?” I giggle at his smuttiness.

“Yeah, stark naked,” he teases.

He cocks his head and smiles at me.

I admit that he's cute and nice. That's all though.

“I suppose I'd better get back.”

“Yeah, see 'ya. Don't be a stranger,” I call out, as he leaves.

As if... he'll be back tomorrow a few dozen times, at least.

I stand by the window and stare outside, above the rooftops across the street. The sky is dark. A storm is due. There's a rising pressure and tension in the air. I watch the boiling black clouds in a trance as the rain starts to fall in large splattering drops. The heavy rain reminds me of that evening not so long ago, when I found out the truth. How Andy really felt about me underneath that lying facade. I hadn't intended to go out that night, but I'd sat indoors for three evenings while he was at a conference in Boston. Charlotte was away, visiting her mom, and although Joanne was around, on and off, I was dying for some company of my own age. I thought I'd drop in to a bar nearby, one which Andy and some of his friends used a lot. It was a ten minute walk and something to do. I didn't intend to stay long, just have a quick drink and some much needed social atmosphere.

Despite the dreadful weather, the bar was quite busy. I dodged in and out of the people to the far end, where there was space to stand at the bar. I didn't notice him until I was almost at his side.

There, lounging on a bar stool, was Andy. And between his legs, draped around him, and kissing his ear in a very enthusiastic manner, was another woman. She was someone I knew and had spoken to a few times, Simone. His hands were cupping her ass and he was enjoying her attentions a great deal, based on the expression on his face. He looked up, and his shock at seeing me standing there, was obvious. As was mine at seeing him, even moreso over who he was with. He moved off the stool and out of her arms like she'd burnt him, coming to my side.

“I thought you were in Boston until the day after tomorrow,” I'd said, my voice choked, and my mind full of hurt and confusion. Simone had turned to face me, leaning against the bar in her tight red dress, wearing an evil, smirking smile. Like the cat who had stolen all my cream.

The bitch.

She'd known full well, that Andy and I were together.

“Came home early and dropped in for a quick drink on the way to see you. I was a bit stressed, you know I don't like flying.”

“Well it looks like you're de-stressing pretty damn well,” I'd said accusingly, “and you didn't think to tell me you were coming home two days early?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise... and by the way, don't worry about her... Simone... she's a little drunk... came on to me...”

“D'you think I'm stupid? You haven't been to a conference, have you? Where's your luggage?” I look at where he was sitting, to the luggage-free empty space, pointedly. “You've been here, in New York all the time, with her. You're a cheat, and a liar.”

He looked at me in shame.  He really couldn't deny it. He'd been caught red handed.

The bare-faced lying bastard.

I wondered if he'd done this before. I could think of at least three trips he'd supposedly been on since we'd been dating, and all that so called 'overtime'.

I'd ended our eight month relationship at that moment, in a blast of unchecked, angry expletives and tears.

I was heartbroken. Andy tried to talk to me, put his arms around me, but I flung him away and wouldn't and couldn't listen. He wanted me to give him one last chance, almost begging me. I swore at him and slapped his face. It might have been twice.

Then I'd escaped from the hurtful, embarrassing scene and ran out into the heavy rain storm, forgetting the umbrella in my hand, in my distress. I was desperate to get back to my place, to my sanctuary. The rain mingled with my tears as they streamed down my face. His betrayal hurt. Like a knife in my chest. A twisting, stabbing, searing pain that speared not only my fragile heart, but also my soul. That someone I had loved and trusted, had discarded me. Thrown me aside like I meant nothing to him. That pain was second only to losing a loved one, to the finality of death.

And I've known that too.

I lost my sister when I was sixteen. She was hit by a car as she ran across the road.

Just like that, her life was snuffed out.

I couldn't cope with it at first. I couldn't explain it to myself or comprehend how or where she'd gone. My younger sister Georgia. Sweet and lovely with her long brown hair and big brown eyes. Vibrant and so pretty and with her whole life ahead of her.

She had idolized me and I'd loved her to pieces.

And she was the main reason why I studied so hard after she died.

It was the way I buried my grief.

I was driven by the dire need to immerse myself in something, so all consumingly, that I couldn't feel the pain of losing her. I put my everything into it, for the both of us.

I take a deep breath and sigh as I sit down at the table to my side watching the rain swirl around outside. I rest my elbow on the table top and place my chin in my hand, thoughtfully. My mind rambles on unstoppably.

It's been six weeks since I made that dreadful discovery, realizing how much of a fool I'd been.

I was a miserable mess for while.

Thank God for Charlie.

She was so good to me, constantly dragging me out, trying to cheer me up and listening to my mad ramblings.

I watch her sweet little face for a moment as she stands behind the counter, working.

Although she tried, I don't think she quite understood my misery. She's never had a long term relationship, so she couldn't possibly imagine the depth of my pain and my attachment to Andy. He'd become part of my life, in every sense.

I'm only just getting over him. Moments like this remind me of that fact. I still hurt inside when I remember how good we were together. If only I could erase him from my mind, and stop the torture, but I can't. I still think of him at times with a deep yearning for what could have been. He was the man I'd wanted. The one for me. Or so I thought. He was loving and kind, he brought me presents and took me on surprise outings. And he made love to me in such a way, that I really thought he meant it—that he loved me more than anything, and anyone. He spent time and money on me and was wonderful to be with. I'd begun to get my hopes up. Thinking that it would turn out right. Because I'd had a horrible failure before him. Steven had played me around, two timing me with another girl for two whole months before I found out.

I sigh loudly, choking back a tear.

I'm sick of lying cheats. I want to be valued, prized even, not a girl in reserve. I don't want to be someone to come back to after he's dipped his hand in the candy jar whenever he needs a different flavor on his taste buds.

Andy still texted me with little messages. They used to upset me, and I considered barring his number. But he'd never been forceful, unpleasant or stalked me like some ex boyfriends. He simply sent me messages. I didn't have to read them, but I always did.

I remember one and smile. “Miss you. miss you. miss you. I just miss you.”

I wonder if he ever misses me when he's fucking Simone.

I've been taken for a ride and I feel used and jaded by love. Or moreso by the lack of it. I'm tired of looking and searching for Mr Right. And I definitely need some lighter fun in my life.

The rain starts tumbling down, noisily, in a heavy waterfall, splashing on the sidewalk and sheeting the glass of the window, running down it in rivulets. A momentary flash of lightning lights up the dark sky and the low rumble of thunder follows. I lean over the table to the wall beyond, and turn the light dimmer switch up a notch, to cheer the place a little. But I need more than a brighter light to cheer myself. I stare blindly at the rain as it washes the world clean outside. If only my heart could be washed clean so easily.

I'm having a down moment.

I draw in a deep breath through my nose and puff it out as I stand. My chair scrapes over the floor noisily. I tuck it back, under the table, and give the old thin man sitting at the table nearby a little smile.  He's sipping his coffee, staring at me in a trance. His eyes twinkle and his face lights up as his trance is broken and he smiles back. It warms me a little inside. I like to maintain a happy outer shell. Even if my inner self isn't of the same mind.

I busy myself for a while, mindlessly cleaning and tidying like a demon, and manage to shake off the gloom of my past love life.

As the skies start to clear outside, simultaneously, my heart begins to feel a little happier again.

On the whole I'm a happy person. I don't have too many times like that.

I can think of Georgia with love, and thankfulness, at having known her, for her short life of eleven years. I still think of her so often, wondering what she'd be like now and how her life would be. She'd be almost eighteen. I imagine giving her sisterly advice about her studies, clothes, make up and guys—warning her off the over-popular hot guys at college, the ones like Andy.

I know Andy really isn't worth the effort of brooding over. But I can't help have the odd moment of weakness.

I'm sure I'll forget him eventually. It's only been six weeks, after all. Until then, it's only natural if some 'what if's' and 'if only's' and a fair number of 'what the fucking hell's' pass through my mind.