For every year of her childhood, there had been some moment that seemed to shape her life, good or bad, leaving its impression upon her mind, molding her into who she was to become. Those sad times though, those always seemed to stand out more. They were the thoughts that were easily found when trekking back through time. Not to be misunderstood, her childhood was blessed. Everyday she thanked God for her family. She was a happy child, easy going, unspoiled, respecting adults, admiring her elders, eager to sit on the lap of her Nana to feast upon whatever pearls of wisdom she’d be willing to share.

Very few times would she have to be spanked, her mother the one to make her go out to fetch her own switch to perform the task. That short walk to the edge of woods behind their simple two story brick home, along with the anticipation, proving more painful than the spanking itself.

Her brother of course…or quite to the contrary, having been born two years and a few months earlier, had not acquired those protective brotherly traits until after hitting puberty. There was never hatred or jealousy between them, never did he purposely abuse or mistreat her, but being so close together in age and yet being older, made him loath an obligation to which he had never once agreed. To put it simply, he viewed Kerri as a brat.

Being told to let her tag along when he and his friends were out finding this buried treasure or invading that kingdom, having her sit in on the powwows of their secret hideaway even though she didn’t know the password, and when the rules had explicitly stated ‘No Girls Allowed’ – so that she became the Indian when they were the Cowboys and the dragon when they were the knights. “You take your sister with you, Jeffery,” they’d say after her whining and his objections had finally worn out strained nerves. “There aren’t any little girls for her to play with ’round here. She’s smaller than you, she can’t do no harm.”

But her views were different from that of her brother’s, not seeing herself as a burden or thorn in his side, just as the little sister who got to be included in on the day to day activities of her hero. It was of course during these many reluctant adventures that he allowed her, that she came to know Sean. He stood up for her, doted upon her, paid her attention when Jeffrey, not for lack of love, shunned her.

Fragmented pieces of memories woven together grey and frayed around the edges, had at some point confused the two. So when she thought on it, it became hard to remember who was there when she fell off the barstool in her Great Grandmother’s house and broke her arm, or which one had comforted her after the death of her dog – only knowing there was never a time when she had ever felt completely lost or alone. Those boys, being the only male figures in her life while growing up, cast a shadow of protection over her.

As she got older however, it was not out of the ordinary for her to remind Jeffrey about the terrible child he had once been. Speaking of one occasion quite often that happened at the ripe ol’ age of nine. The sound of her older, but still very mischievous, somewhat devious brother’s voice rang clear in her head. “All I did was throw it!” The excitable eleven year-old, slightly dirty from the days exploring and usual activities tried desperately to explain to his Nana. Her loving hand held a dish rag with a few pieces of cooling ice against the angry red knot that was now forming above his sister’s right eye. “But she ran into it!” He was yelling his excuses, praying they could be heard by the little old lady over the screams and cries coming from the inconsolable child. Nana was fairly quiet, whispering soothing words to the girl with no avail. The boy too was almost on the verge of tears, knowing full well the fate that awaited him. He would stall as long as he could when sent back outside to fetch his switch.

“I think I still have a bump right there,” she said even now while they sat on the steps of Nana’s front porch. Subconsciously, she rubbed her forehead and then smacked him lightly on the arm for laughing at her.

“There’s nothing there,” he replied, his mouth twisting sideways in suspicion. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you did something to get me in trouble that day. I retaliated.”

“Before or after you threw a walnut at my face?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he teased, nudging her with his elbow.

There was a light breeze in the air, cool and crisp, a little chilly still from the remnants of winter. She grasped at the sleeves of her pale butter cardigan, pulling the bottoms over her hands, enclosing her arms around herself. Her legs moved closer together under the coverings of full cotton voile skirt, one shoeless foot awkwardly resting atop the other.

It was so calm, so peaceful, everything refreshingly clean on a sunny day right after a brisk spring shower. She had been sitting there for a little over half an hour, debating on whether or not to give in to the grumblings of her stomach, tempted by the familiar aromas of her Nana’s famous Sunday dinner when her brother had joined her outside.

“I can’t believe we didn’t even get a chance to see him one last time.” Her words were like a plea. Sean’s death was hard, so hard for them both, but Kerri, for the first time in her life, was totally, utterly heartbroken.

“I don’t think you would’ve wanted to see him, not like that.”

“I guess,” she mumbled in agreement. “I just can’t believe he’s gone, Jeff. Maybe I don’t want to believe it. Any minute now I’m expecting him to pull into the yard and curse me out because I didn’t tell him I was coming home.”

A sad, wistful sigh escaped her lips. Placing her chin in the palm of her hand while her elbow rested on one knee, she fixed her eyes on the dirt road leading into her grandmother’s graveled driveway. The feeble hopes that the next cloud of red dust traveling along Winetrap Lane would belong to a dark green Jeep Wrangler twinkled in her hazel irises. The thought was justifiably insane.

“Why didn’t I call him when I had the chance?”

“He knew that you loved him.” Jeffrey wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a comforting embrace, gently squeezing, speaking pointedly to ensure she understood. “That’s all that really matters.”

* * *

Yesterday seemed light years away, even though it was just yesterday that Sean was buried, and just yesterday she returned to Northern Virginia, yet the day wouldn’t allow her a moment’s reprieve. Even before she had gotten off Powhite Parkway on route to I-95 north, she was being told via voicemail and Blackberry that there was a flight booked for her out of Reagan National to Boston.

What was meant to be a day to reflect, allowing for one solitary moment to actually breathe without being plagued with the curious sensation of drowning, was instantly snatched away.

“Collin’s being pulled in on the Dennison project, so you’re needed for tomorrow’s orals.”

Kerri sat quietly in the chestnut leather chair, her back relaxed, head tilted to the side, arms and legs crossed, her foot bouncing in time with the ‘tap, tap, tap’ of the silver pen in his hand against the mahogany desk.

“I know this is last minute – that today was your day off…”

She’d been staring at that pen for the last few minutes, her foot moving up and down, up and down to the rhythm, fascinated by that annoying noise, almost in trance, so that when it stopped mid air, her movements suddenly ceased and her head jerked forward so she was looking directly into his weary blue eyes.

“Kerri, we’re in a bind here,” he continued, that rapt cadence resuming once he was convinced he had her attention. “But you worked on the RFP; I’m assuming the material should be second nature by now.” Arnold Twitchum, old man Twitchum as he was affectionately called, was seated behind his desk, his posture slightly hunched from age and stress. The wrinkles surrounding his eyes and lips, the subtle sag of his cheeks, the liver spots on his pale hands, making him appear older than a man who had not yet reached his sixties.

“Mr. Twitchum, it has nothing to do with my familiarity of the account.” Her brows knitted together involuntarily when she said this, his questioning of her knowledge of any project she’s worked on striking a cord. “Michael asked for my help in the beginning because Kim quit. I’m not pre-sales,” she stated simply.

Pursing his lips together briefly like that of a fish, as was his custom while deep in thought, he stilled the pen in his hand, grabbing it at both ends between thumb and forefinger, applying pressure as if to break it, to finally place the pen carefully on the desk in front of him. “I am quite aware of that Ms. Britton,” he said, switching to the formalities of using last names. “You should also be aware of what moving to pre-sales would mean for you. A promotion of sorts, higher pay, more responsibility—”

‘More stress’ is what she wanted to say, the words resting right there on the tip of her tongue which was pressed tightly against her teeth to keep any rebellious phrases from escaping. She wished to scream to him ‘Go to Hell!’ would’ve loved more than anything to just say ‘Shove it!’ These thoughts simply being swallowed down instead. They were pointless, a waste of time, knowing full well she would never get up the nerve to actually do what she really felt. Such last minute demands never surprised her. The only annoying part being the fact that they were always presented in the form of a question suggesting she had a choice in the matter when there was really no choice at all.

But she loved her job, and repeating this affirmation under her breath at her desk while making preparations for tomorrow’s presentation, ‘I love my job, I love my job,’ she hoped that at some point she’d believe it. And Boston was only an hour’s flight away besides. Maybe this would provide some much needed distraction from the current state of her emotional affairs.

There had always been a slight apprehension when it came to flying, although it seemed to be her primary job function. Whether it was for an hour or eight, the thought of being 30,000 miles up, soaring over ground never settled right within her gut. And as the flight attendant did that usual spill about being able to stay afloat upon the seat cushion should the plane happen to take a nose dive into the middle of the Atlantic, she swallowed down that still and persistent fear, her mind focusing on - and at the same time ignoring - the words of the man seated beside her in first class.

The talking began and had not ceased since the pair bumped into each other during baggage screening. He had caught her unawares. Stripped down to a crepe and silk blouse, grey skirt and satin hosiery, her hand rested lightly on one of the bins that held her belongings while she waited in line at security. She had been staring, oblivious of her surroundings and the vague look of disgust that marred the delicate features of her face, at a couple a few feet in front of her who had just made it out on the other side.

It fascinated her, the lack of discretion that some people tended to exhibit in public places. Making absolute spectacles of themselves. They were obliviously in love or lust, fairly young she supposed and still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. The two had been snuggling, hugging and kissing, sickeningly so, since ticketing and were now making a show of their PDAs to anyone who was pathetic enough to participate as a voyeur.

The lady, small in stature, just a little over five feet tall with long, wavy blonde hair that grazed her tailbone, fit snuggly into her gentleman’s side, his hand wrapping possessively around her tiny waist as he bent down, easily towering over her, to lay kisses along her jaw and neck. Her giggles floated past some of the female TSAs who rolled their eyes at the spectacle to Kerri’s ears. He turned her then to his other arm; breaking contact long enough so the two could retrieve their property from the conveyor belt.

The scene captivated her, annoyed her, and she wondered at the prospect of ever being one to act ‘that way’ in front of a group of strangers. Slobbering each other down as if they were the last drink of precious water in the Sahara. Her nose turned upward slightly, feet planted in place, her ears blocking out noise of the outside world while her thoughts turned inward about love won and hopelessly lost.

As amber colored eyes began to mist over, almost blindly, her head dropped and she scolded herself. She would not cry, she would not cry. And it was this…need to cry that angered her, enraged her. She had never been this sentimental, this much of a baby as she had proven to be in the last few days. There was something that was broken or missing. Something had to be missing from within her.

But she would not think on it.

Blinking back tears and faking a sneeze once she walked through the metal detector to present the attendant with her boarding pass, she dabbed at her eyes with her hand, continuing to look down. There was a pause, a deliberate hesitation on his part while she waited impatiently for him to give her back her ticket. She could feel him staring at her.

Frustration showed on her face when she finally gazed up at him. Her irritation with this man totally unwarranted and unfair, but the smile on his lips seemed to strike a nerve.

“Here you go, beautiful sista,” he said sweetly, suavely, flashing his pearly white teeth. She nearly snatched the ticket out of his hand.

It was as she was slipping her satiny clad foot into her three inch, d’Orsay pump, making a silent vow to swear off all men forever, for whatever irrational reason, that she heard him calling her name from a few yards away. Her hopes of not running into him until after they had arrived in Boston were immediately dashed.

“McAllister’s been CEO for nearly 15 years. He and Twitchum go way back…both Phi Beta Kappa at Yale, both Navy vets, both spend their summers on neighboring property in the Hamptons. This one’s ours to lose.”

Michael Crofton was your everyday pushing 40-something, it’s almost time to contact the ‘Hair Club for Men,’ blonde hair, blue eyed Sales Director from southern Maryland. He had been with the firm for seven years, currently setting his sights on that Communications Exec spot since Twichum’s right hand man was expected to retire later in the year. And this was the perfect account to get him there. He was giving her a brief history on Richard McAllister, the mogul, the visionary, the man they’d have to convince of Broad & Heish’s ability to increase profit margins by substantial amounts.

“He’s innovative, fresh. A far cry from Twitchum, but just as methodical.”

Having heard it all before, she silently thumbed through the latest edition of Northwest’s ‘WorldTraveler’ magazine, her eyes merely roaming over the letters which had not yet begun to form words in her mind. It wasn’t as if she was disinterested in what he had to say. She understood the importance of this project and the market the firm would be able to penetrate upon a successful win. But she wasn’t a braggart or a suck up, nor did she speak simply for the sake of hearing herself talk, all of which could be used to describe Michael to a tee, who was seemingly unconcerned that he spent most of his career behaving like a bag-less upright just to impress the client.

She did her best to cope.

They were scheduled for the second slot of the day, number two in a line up of four separate firms gunning for that 4.5 million dollar contract. The goal was simple. Put forth a campaign that could and would change the image of the pharmaceuticals conglomerate. One that could win back favorable public opinion in a climate where ‘Big Drug,’ just like ‘Big Tobacco,’ was often deemed a society evil. It was a dirty job…

“The global market will more than double in value in the next 10 years. A market driven by the demand for medicines as the population grows, ages and becomes more obese and as chronic conditions and infectious diseases tied to global warming increase. But the current pharmaceutical business model is unsustainable and the industry must fundamentally change the way it operates if it is to capitalize on future growth opportunities.” Kerri paced slowly in the front of the board room, her words deliberate, purposeful, looking each person in the eye before continuing. “It is our job, ladies and gentlemen, to redesign that model.”

It was easy, mechanical almost, for her to turn off emotions for the sake of her trade. To lose herself in it. She had become a master at selling because she could project whatever she was feeling at that time into the art. She could make you believe it and believe in it, even if she didn’t. A professional liar, akin to a lawyer. At times it made her cringe.

There was little down time for her after that, being short-listed for the contract proving to be more of a curse than the blessing that it was. Twitchum was ecstatic, murmuring of victory prematurely and smiling to himself more than usual as if he were privy to some information his subordinates were yet unaware.

Many late evenings found her at the firm. The war room becoming a home away from home as the team mulled over new strategies and marketing ideas just in case of a win. Take out Thai had become a staple in her diet, the mastery of chopsticks only icing on the cake. She was drowning herself in her work. Maybe purposefully. Yet it did not have any effect on her social life, which was pretty much nonexistent to begin with.

“You really should call him back, you know.”

The reply was merely the agitated rise of neatly primed eyebrows which would have gone unnoticed had the protagonist not been looking directly at Kerri from across the conference table. Although, instigator, was more of the term that Kerri thought suited her at the moment. The words nosy and insistent flashed through her mind as she began to think of fitting synonyms. But she knew this pushiness was all out of love and chose to simply ignore the woman all together. For an instant, the writing of her pen stilled when she heard this sentence, the words coming from nowhere since they had been working in silence for the last 45 minutes. But this too now went on as if the statement had never been said after she realized who ‘him’ was.

The woman, the instigator, stared at her with short patience and decided it best to continue the conversation even if it was one-sided. “You do realize he’s called here three times this week.”

Kerri glanced up, just briefly, to ensure they were the only two occupying the war room. Over the last half hour, having been so engrossed in her work, she hadn’t notice anyone come or go. Now thankfully, gratefully, no one else was there to hear this woman spew all the gory details regarding her personal life.

“Didn’t you say he was attractive?”

There was the sound of a deep inhale of breath, followed by a low and terse, “Yes.” But her head stayed low, the pen still moving at a whirling speed across the paper as if in agitation. For a few precious seconds, nothing else was said. Kerri assumed the subject had been dropped.

“So…” she ventured cautiously, sliding some folders to the side so that she could fold her arms comfortably on the table, “are you going to call him?”

“Mary Beth, please!” Her voice was hushed even though they were alone. The writing ceased. There was an amused look of triumph on her assistant’s face and Kerri barely held in the need to roll her eyes. “Do we really have to talk about this now?” She asked, still whispering. “I know he’s called. I got his messages.”

“I know you got the messages. I gave them to you,” Mary Beth stated plainly, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. Her chin now rested lazily in the palm of her left hand, her head tilted slightly to the side. “I just think it would be good for you. Good to focus on something other than this campaign.”
“And a man is that something?” There was absolutely no reason for her to be upset, not the least bit heated at where this conversation was possibly headed and she knew it was unjustified. But she couldn’t stop the prickly beginnings of anger from rising up her spine. At any other time, Mary Beth’s usual bantering would have rolled quickly off her back.

“Well…yes. You need a distraction. I think,” she stated with the shrug of a shoulder, “I think you’re closing yourself off on purpose. I think going out with someone new just for kicks and giggles will do you some good.”

“I’ve known Jamal for all of two minutes. Don’t you think it’s a bit creepy for him to be calling so much so soon? It’s like…it’s…stalkerish!” Her eyes widened the moment the word was spoken for emphasis, her voice still just above a whisper while she talked. “And what I’d like to know is how he got my number in the first place?” She finished with an accusatory tone.

Mary Beth simply waved her hand, dismissing the last statement altogether as if the ‘how’ and ‘why’ mattered little. “All I’m saying is that you need to have a little fun. With the way you’re working, you’re going to be burnt out by the time you turn 30 – a lonely, grouchy old maid and all before the age of 30.”

Her mouth hung slightly agape at the snug expression on older woman’s face. She’d just been insulted! And Mary Beth had struck a nerve. Kerri wasn’t grouchy and was far from whatever it was that Mary Beth considered an ‘old maid’ to be. Lonely…well, she had friends, best friends that had been with her through highs and lows for as long as she could remember and her family was never more than a phone call away.

Kerri’s lips formed a tight line across the smooth expanse of honey brown skin, her eyebrows furrowing as several thoughts about her life ran through her head. Lonely. “I’m not lonely, Mary Beth.” The whispering had ceased, although now her steady, even voice was tempered with frustration. “And contrary to what you seem to believe, I’m quite satisfied with the way my life is right now.” It was a lie that sounded like the truth in anger.

“I know you’re probably still hurting,” Mary Beth offered, docile tones seeping into her manner of speech. Whatever teasing that may have been implied earlier was now completely gone from her countenance. Her face appeared serious, her pale green eyes somewhat sad.

Kerri hated it, absolutely hated being the recipient of pity, but she knew what was coming next. Her head shook slightly back and forth, her words coming out as they had before, in a soft whisper. She wasn’t ready to talk about this yet. “Not now, Mary Beth.”

The older woman sighed, but relented. And Kerri tried once again to focus on her work.

* * *

It was her own fault, she surmised, for even broaching the topic with her two partners in crime. Her so-called friends, she thought warily. When trying to reflect on why she brought it up in the first place, she found no reason, other than sheer curiosity in what their opinions might be. And she may have rationalized that if they considered it to be a good idea, something that she – according to everyone else around her – obviously needed, maybe she’d do it.

Go out it with him. Call him up. They were making a big deal out of nothing and she suddenly began to feel silly about the entire thing. No. She just wanted to forget about it and work and sulk as she had been. But they both jumped onto the subject with talon like claws and refused to let it drop. She’d slap herself later.

Kerri rested an arm on the plush maroon loveseat in Arissa’s living room, her legs tucked underneath her while seated on the floor, her eyes moving between one friend to the next and back to finally settle upon Vonda.

Seconds from rolling her eyes, Vonda jerked her crossed feet off the coffee table, however briefly, to allow Arissa access to swipe away whatever invisible dust she saw with a Swiffer cloth. With an exaggerated sigh, she placed them back, taking a sip of her iced tea, her lips twisting to the side slightly before she spoke. “Why do you ask us to come over here if you insist on cleaning around us like we’re bric-a-brac on a shelf?”

Arissa simply cocked one brow, muttered something about a ‘pig sty’ and never stopped dusting, deciding that her best defense was simply to ignore. “So, how did he get your number any way?”

“Mary Beth,” Kerri answered offhandedly. “I made the mistake of telling her about him. I’m sure she took it upon herself to call.”

“I don’t know why you have that white woman all up in your business.”

“You’re all up in my business, Vonda.” Best girlfriends since elementary school, Mrs. Semester’s second grade class to be exact, Kerri pretty much ignored most of Vonda’s comments. Not that she didn’t trust her friend, but Vonda was a radical, a conspiracist, forever believing that ‘the man’ was out to get her and any other non-suspecting minority citizen. And the fact that her mother was indeed half European made her actions all the more bemusing. “And I happen to like that white woman,” Kerri continued. To which Vonda only grunted.

“So, let’s see,” Arissa went on completely unfazed, immune to the bickering between the other two ladies. They had always been more like sisters, really. “He’s single, has a job, a car…a Mercedes if I’m not mistaken–”

There was a light snort of amusement before Vonda spoke the words, “C-class,” the statement laced with such disdain, suggesting that something as trivial as the model type not only reduced the value of a car, but that of its owner as well.

They both glanced in Vonda’s direction, who drank from her glass quietly as if nothing had ever been said.

With a click of her tongue, Arissa resumed. “What is the problem exactly? There’s no harm in just meeting him for lunch or something. I mean, how long has it been since you’ve been out with a guy?”

“Apparently, not long enough.”

“Leave the girl alone, Rissa. She obviously doesn’t want to be bothered with him.” Vonda got up from the sofa with a languid stretch and yawn. The sun was just beginning to set; the sky beyond the sliding glass door turning an ashen pink, its glow making everything it touched appear well worn and dull. For a few hours now, the three had been lounging, watching movies and gorging on confections from the corner bakery.

“Thank you,” Kerri approved with a smile.

“And if she wants to be alone for the rest of her life,” she teased, walking towards the kitchen to place her empty glass in the dishwasher, “that’s her business.”

“I said, Thank you.”

Soft laughter could be heard coming from the nearby room.

“Well, you know what I think.”

“Yes, Rissa, I know what you think.”

“I think he’s cute.”

“He’s short.”

Arissa balked at the observation, but before she could object, Kerri held up a hand to continue. “You don’t have to worry about that because you’re only five-two. If I can look them in the eye…” She made a gesture of pointing two fingers towards her face then back at Arissa, “they’re too short.” Although Kerri wasn’t exactly an Amazon herself at only five feet-six inches, to her, any man under six feet just didn’t fit the bill.

“Stop being so picky. He was still taller than you, and you had on heels!”

And on and on it went until she finally left. Arissa could be absolutely relentless when trying to get her point across and she made sure Kerri was aware of how she felt about at least giving Jamal a chance. How often was it that she met a young, single, professional black man these days, anyway? Was she crazy?! But he wasn’t the only topic of conversation that night, though the theme of ‘all things male’ was at the forefront of their thoughts, per usual.

It still surprised her however, that she found herself seated outside on the bistro’s garden patio waiting for her date to arrive. Though she certainly wouldn’t call it a date. It was simply lunch…during the workday, and she had to eat. A little place situated on Wisconsin Ave in downtown DC was the selected spot since he revealed that he worked two blocks from that location. A Thai restaurant. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that just the mention of the word ‘Thai’ was beginning to make her stomach lurch.

Kerri graciously accepted given that it was walking distance from her office, and it was predicted to be a balmy spring day. Fresh air would do her good. Several times before leaving however, she’d been tempted to call him back and cancel. Mary Beth, blood hound that she was, seemed to anticipate this and kept her distracted the entire morning until the idea was abandoned and it was too late.

But she loathed first dates, loathed dating period for that matter. The whole getting to know you with the same boring questions about why she was still single or what it was that she did for a living, what she liked to do for fun, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, it all sat her teeth on edge. Maybe she was a grouch.

No, she thought, she wasn’t a grouch. She just knew what she wanted. Conversation that flowed on its own accord as days went by without having to be forced by the prattle of a million questions, the cascade of emotions that resulted from just a fleeting glance, perception of mood, passion, sheer contentment. She wanted someone that she already knew, someone that already knew her. A longing sigh escaped her, “Simply impossible.” The words drifted like a prayer from pouty lips.

A smile was plastered on her face when she finally saw him stepping out onto the patio. It felt forced, so she lessened it just a little when she began to feel the strain at the corners of her mouth. She could only imagine how she looked in the process, possibly like she was suffering from a mild stroke.

He recognized her immediately. His eyes lit up and seemed to sparkle as he grinned at her, the dimples on his face prominent against coffee colored skin. Dressed in business casual with dark tan slacks, a beige and blue striped dress shirt sans the tie, he sauntered over to her table. Holding out his right hand as he approached, he let his gaze roam over her briefly as if accessing or perhaps remembering their first, albeit brief, encounter. And though he tried to do this as modestly as possible, the slight didn’t go unnoticed.

One brow rose in response to this as she stood from her seat. Somewhere deep down she squelched the desire to reach out and slap him. There was a short hesitation before she actually reciprocated the friendly gesture of a handshake, which he immediately discerned.

When his dark brown irises finally lifted of their own accord – this entire episode only happening in a manner of seconds – he burst out laughing at the sourness of her facial expressions.

“I’m so sorry,” he offered, though through his chuckling, the sentiment hardly seemed sincere. “I really didn’t mean to do that.”

Kerri was taken aback, not really knowing what to think. Confusion, even a bit of annoyance, began creeping into her countenance. Her weight shifted to one foot, her body language expressive of the irritation she felt. Almost…almost a hand was about to settle on the upturned hip, but she kept it at her side. At that moment she was seriously considering leaving the fool there, right where he stood in the middle of the courtyard, laughing to himself. This was absolutely ridiculous.

As he shook her hand, he threw up his left, gesturing in mock surrender. “I promise,” he declared, this too was said in jest. “I’m not a dog.”

* * *

Despite her warranted reservations, at some point during that lunch she found herself warming up to Jamal. A few minutes passing before she actually said anything however, their initial encounter still heavy on her thoughts. She didn’t know how to take him. At last deciding that she wasn’t overly offended, even by him practically undressing her with his eyes, which in itself, she knew, was an exaggeration of what truly transpired.

Immediately, she found him to be a jokester, and she laughed in spite of herself. He was a character, in every sense of the word – funny, charming, witty. And to his credit, he didn’t ask her any cliché questions. As a matter of fact, he really didn’t ask her many questions at all. Their conversation just flowed like she was talking to an old friend…or laughing at one.

Towards the end of their little date, yes, she was finally admitting it was now a date, she even began to offer a few tidbits about her own life without having to be abetted.

And Arissa was right. He was taller than she, even in her heels. Although, barely.

For the most part she kept it to herself, her going out with Jamal, since she was still on the fence about the situation. The two had met for lunch on quite a few occasions for last couple weeks following their first, ahem…date. But Kerri, for the life of her, couldn’t make up in her mind on whether she was attracted to him or not, at least not in that way. And until she could decide one way or the other, she’d just be totally nonchalant about the entire thing.

Mary Beth knew of course, in the way that Mary Beth usually knew everything, even when she wasn’t directly informed. Kerri pretty much ignored her as best she could, only offering curt answers to the many questions asked about the two until her assistant finally got the hint.

Honestly! Kerri sat behind her desk, slightly shaking her head, laughing quietly to herself. She loved the woman, really she did, almost like a mother; their friendship had grown that much over the years. But how nosy could one person be?

She couldn’t worry about that now, though. Not now. Not Mary Beth with her caring, albeit misguided, ways. Not Jamal and…whatever the hell it was that they had going on. Not her girlfriends who despised meddling but managed to insinuate themselves all up in her life. Her main focus was this campaign. It would be less than a week that the contract winner would be announced. All the little nuisances that greeted her from day to day would no doubt have to take a back seat.

It was some kind of maddening calm that lulled her when she worked, when she was most focused. When rays of colors and undefined shapes and dimensions swirled together effortlessly, almost as an afterthought, to form within her mind recognizable, meaningful, thought provoking creations.

Her secondary education was one saturated with all aspects of art. The study of hues, textures, brush strokes, mediums, the history, periods – the most renowned and forgotten artisans alike. It was only natural that her abilities lead her into the studies of the craft, but somehow business classes got mixed in along the way. Her life’s direction just seemed to be propelled of its own violation from then on. Numbers, calculations, endless research and agonizing reports seized most of her attention and before long, she found herself where she was now.

The right side of her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and she worried it a bit. Maybe she was on her way to becoming a lonely, old grouch or whatever the hell it was that Mary Beth had called her. She stifled an indignant snort at the notion, but managed to let her eyes roll with the flutter of long lashes and shake of her head. She loved her job. But this was something that had been said many times before, so she let the thought go without taking a side, pro or con.

Releasing her coral colored lip, she let a slow sigh escape her and for the first time, looked at the patrons that surrounded her as she stood in one of the metro’s cars. She was trying her best to ignore how agonizingly crowded it was, and how completely rude and pushy some people were just to get home. They were packed in on all sides, like sardines…or rats. She shivered visibly at the mental picture and steeled herself, her feet planted firmly on the ground, her left hand tightening around one of the metal handles that lined the ceiling for standing passengers and braced herself as the train proceeded to stop at its next station.

No, her thoughts continued, it wasn’t a question of her job. It was a matter of her happiness and truth be told, her job made her happy in some simple way, satisfied the desire to be needed, purposeful. But that wasn’t enough. That couldn’t make anyone whole, she knew that. No one had to tell her that.

It just wasn’t…just wasn’t…

Just wasn’t the right time, maybe? So, her brow furrowed a little when she considered what was going on with her and Jamal, it worried her somewhat. Kerri certainly didn’t want to lead anyone on, and she thought she had been quite clear about her intentions in the beginning. But he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she wished to remain on strictly friendly terms, at least for the immediate future.

She wasn’t looking for love. A part of her was resigned to believe that she had already lost her love.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Her lips pursed together as she scolded herself for the pity party she was throwing – guest list of one. Whatever the cause of her foreboding, she was pretty sure it wasn’t in her destiny to end up all alone, some wrinkled old woman sitting in a rocking chair on her front porch, a knitted shawl around her shoulders while her 13 lazy cats lay at her feet. She hated cats.

“The lady hasn’t lost her way again today, has she?”

The words cut through her muddled thoughts forcibly, shattering her quiet reverie like a wild boar in a glass menagerie. Her eyes shut instinctively, the lids wrenched tightly together as she prayed to all that was good and holy that he was not, was NOT standing behind her in that moment. And if those few words were to have spilled from anyone else’s mouth, she, no doubt, would have laughed cynically at the deeper meaning laced between the lines.

Deep octave tones flowed over her, making her flush, warming her all the way down to her toes. Absentmindedly, she started to raise her right hand to wipe away the tickling prickles that materialized when his breath assaulted the delicate shell of her ear. But this, she soon remembered, was bogged down with the weight of her purse and shopping bag so she let the appendage drop.

He seemingly came from nowhere, and she couldn’t remember him ever stepping on the train. Was she that wrapped up in her own mind, her own world that she hadn’t noticed? And just how close was he? She could feel him directly behind her, the broadness of his chest bumping against her shoulders as the car swayed to and fro along the tracks, his torso against her back. It was indecent! But of course there was some amount of touching on all sides from various strangers on the train. There was hardly any standing room as it was.

After only a few seconds, her nose began to dissect that tantalizing scent she knew to be uniquely his as it enveloped her, inhaling deeply before she caught herself. Her eyes flew open at the impropriety of her actions. She didn’t know this man! He could be some crazed lunatic for all she knew.

Slowly, slowly Kerri turned her head to look at him over her right shoulder, her mouth slightly agape. He, in all his glory, gazed back at her with sparkling gray eyes and that ever presuming smirk.

She couldn’t breathe! It was totally irrational. The sudden reaction within her body undeniable. The feeling of hundreds of tiny spiders running down her spine seemed to overwhelm her, almost numbingly, the sensation so acute. She thought she heard the pounding of a thousand hooves across a barren terrain, the rushing of a torrential waterfall drowning out all of her hearing, only to frown at the silliness shortly after realizing this was simply the sound of the roaring wind produced from the train travelling back underground.

“Nn…” The ability to actually speak escaped her, leaving her with the rudimentary skills of making small grunts and incomprehensible noises. At this he simply laughed, effectively serving to anger her somewhat.
A thin line formed across lightly tinted lips, eyes narrowed slightly, her head turned to face forward again. Of all the nerve!

It seemed she had acquired the knack for making the men she met laugh at her expense. And although her line of profession sometimes called for her to be engaging, entertaining even, she really didn’t consider herself to be all that funny.

“You do remember where you parked this time?” The words suggested that he was mocking her, although there was a throatiness to the quality of his voice, a resonating rumble she could feel that began in his chest, emphasizing how close they were, making her shiver in spite of herself. And if he hadn’t been so successful in evoking her ire, she would have gotten the distinct impression that he was flirting.

It was unclear to her why she seemed so mortified, so afraid to answer his simple question. At the moment, she didn’t trust her own voice. There was a high probability that it would be shaky, unstable, betraying all of her insecurities. For whatever illogical reason, she was embarrassed beyond belief. He might as well have accidentally seen her naked, all of her womanly charms exposed to his critical eye.

Kerri glanced down to her right, helplessly, seeking someone to come to her aid. The only other person in the car that was paying any attention to her was a little girl who appeared to be about five sitting astride her mother’s lap. Two long braids sat neatly on the side of her round, cherub face, fastened at the end with pink ribbons. Her brown eyes were big and bright, the tiny nose slightly upturned. No doubt, Kerri would have thought of her as absolutely adorable if it wasn’t for the fact that as soon as she realized Kerri was indeed watching her, she smiled impishly and stuck out her tongue.

Bad ass kids, she mused, jerking forward, praying as hard as she could that the next stop would indeed be hers. Her bearings were completely shot.

“Yes,” she managed to get out, refocusing on the situation at hand. “Yes,” she repeated, risking a peak at him over her shoulder once more, “I…I remember where I parked.”

There was a brief pause while he continued to look down at her, while it appeared that he was allowing her words to sink in. It was as if he were studying them, turning them over in his mind and taking them apart, trying to find the significance behind what she spoke. Or, it could’ve been the fact that he liked knowing he unnerved her, that he knew his gaze was penetrating to her very core, leaving her completely rattled.

It would’ve been so easy, so natural for him to drop whatever items that were trapped in his right hand and use that hand to capture her waist instead, to pull her body flush with the rock hardness of his chest. So easy…

Stop! She had to make herself stop. If she tried hard enough though, she could recall the way it felt, his arms, his abdomen, the way he held her…

“Hmm,” he replied, the corner of his mouth rising to form a crooked smile. “That’s too bad.”

She was supposed to start her next sentence off with, ‘I,’ as in, ‘I can’t believe you would have the audacity to imply…well, whatever the hell it is that you’re…implying,’ but Kerri squeaked, actually squeaked in response, her eyes growing wide at his insinuation before turning back around. She was beginning to make herself dizzy.

All the blood in her body pooled in her face and neck making her blush and uncomfortably warm.

The train began to slow, the car jerking erratically as the breaks were applied to the metal wheels causing her to bump against him. The seconds between the train coming to a complete stop and the opening of the doors stretched out for an eternity in her mind. Moving with haste, she tried to push her way through the other passengers, attempting to get away from him as quickly as possible before she made in absolute fool of herself, even more so then she already had.

It donned on her that this too was his stop and he probably lived somewhere nearby. The sudden realization flashed across her mind in bold red letters. The probability of his close vicinity made her more than a little weary, the self inflicted fear nipping at her heels. Her fast pace didn’t waver – out the doors, down the escalator and past the gates –only risking a look back when she made it out to the parking lot. He was no where to be seen, but she continued towards her car as swiftly as her pumps would allow.

Why she was running from him couldn’t be rationalized. She had no idea, none at all. It made no logical sense, not even in her overactive imagination.

However, she didn’t seem to relax until she got to her car, her heart beating a mile a minute within her chest once seated in the driver seat. While catching her breath, she let her head rest on one of her hands that tightly gripped the stirring wheel, panting as if she had just ran a marathon. It annoyed her that any person, any man would have this much affect on her, and all he did was ask a question.

As soon as her body calmed, Kerri sat back and flipped down the visor to view the vanity mirror that hid underneath to look at her reflection. A thin sheen of perspiration had settled on face, making her caramel skin glow. Reaching over the passenger side, she opened glove compartment and grabbed a napkin to dab at the wetness on her forehead and nose.

After discarding the tissue, she caught a glimpse of hazel eyes staring back at her.

“You are so uncool,” she grumbled before closing the visor and starting the ignition to make her way back home.
by NaomiRose.

Porn Tags: blue eyes, Dirty, fun, girlfriends

Free daily porn posts

• Four guys and four girls turn a card game into an orgy (0)
• Free daily porn video - Boozed girlfriends get fucked by four guys (0)
• Luanne starts her sexual tale with a few of her firsts. (0)
• Boozed girlfriends get fucked by four guys (0)
• Nude beauty near by fireplace, just go there and score this busty Candy hardcore! (0)