Charley (8 page)

I lay out nude. I would like for you to join me.

“I love the chocolate pearls, they accent your skin.”

Yeah, and give you an excuse to look at my 34Ds.

I loved the attention. I hadn’t been flirted with like this in a long time. He smiled and continued talking. I heard the words, but I wasn’t listening. I was just drinking in his smile and his looks, and thinking about my sexy dreams with him. I couldn’t get the image of him in those soaking wet white shorts and what they revealed out of my mind.

Finally he unexpectedly asked a question that broke me from my trance. “Charley, how did you get into this business?”

Fortunately, Wilma arrived at the table with our drinks and appetizer. I was anxious to talk with Coach, but I wanted Wilma to meet him. “Wilma, this is Phillip McCoy. He’s here in town with the Coach’s Convention. Randle and I met him several years ago when he played for the Grizzles. Coach, meet Wilma, our assistant manager. She was with Jimmy’s when it first opened.”

Coach stood up. “Glad to meet you Wilma.”

I watched carefully. I didn’t get a good gauge on Wilma, but she was polite.

 “Good to meet you, Coach McCoy.”

Wilma paused a minute before turning to me. “Do you want to order now or wait?”

“Coach, how about you?”

“I think I’m ready. I’ll have the swordfish. We don’t get good seafood in my part of Ohio. And just water to drink please.”

I ordered my normal steak salad with dressing on the side.

When Wilma had gone, my attention shifted back. “Now what did you ask me?  Oh yeah, you asked how I got into this business? I’ll try to make it short. The original owner was Jimmy Brewster. I married his son, Randle. You met him. He was good man, who stupidly got himself involved with a local crime boss. It cost him his life. He was killed shortly after the gang wars broke out in the late 1990’s. A short time later, the crime boss himself was killed in the Bar, in this very booth as a matter of fact.

“So Randle was killed? I am so sorry, Charley, I didn’t know. It must be painful for you to talk about it. Did they ever catch the killers?”

“Yes, I think about him often. No, they were never able to make an arrest. We all know who did it. When the crime boss was killed, Jimmy was the only one who got a good look at the killer. Jimmy was so furious about Randle’s murder he agreed to testify about the killer, as well as everything else he knew. He was placed in the Fed’s witness protection program. Jimmy’s wife had died, and next his son was taken from him, so he had no family left. He asked me to take care of the place until he got back, but he never made it back! He was killed less than three months after going under the Fed’s protection. The killers have never been publically identified, so the case remains officially unsolved. Jimmy left me the Bar in his will, and I’ve run it ever since.”

“That must have been a difficult time for you. So that’s the infamous past the hotel doorman up the street was telling me about.”

“That’s it in a nut shell.”

Coach had been on the edge of his seat as I told the story. He leaned back in the booth and exhaled.

“Whew, there is a lot more to you than just a pretty face. You’ve been through a lot. That explains the pictures at the bar I saw up front while I was waiting for you this afternoon. They’re of Jimmy and Randle?”

I could tell Coach was beginning to find the story intriguing. And he had more questions.

“Now what about this ‘privacy setting’ you asked the waiter to set up?”

“The privacy setting … that was Martin’s idea…”

“Who is Martin?”

“The crime boss, I mentioned. He started coming to the Bar and gradually made it his home. He ran his crime syndicate from this booth. Anyway, we’ve kept it even after the murders; it makes things interesting for the tourists. Whenever he held meetings with his crime council, he wanted privacy from the public, so he paid for a privacy system of folding insulated walls around the booth. Potted plants outside the walls make it blend with the décor to become almost invisible. There is a concealed door escape route leading from the booth, through to the kitchen. The booth and the table are adjustable to give a roughly nine by nine room, not big, but big enough. He actually had some good ideas for his booth office.”

“Sounds like a description written for a tour guide's explanation.”

“Actually it was. The tourist business is big for us in the summer months.”

Wilma knocked on the door and entered. “Dinner’s ready.”

Wilma was a little slower than usual. I knew she was taking her time to evaluate this man. When she finished, she winked at me and closed the door to our little cocoon. I knew now that she approved.

“Now where was I?”

I took a slow sip of my Peach Sangria. At some point, I am going to have to tell him why I was so anxious to see him again. But not while we were eating. Maybe later.

“Swordfish is good.”

Coach ate as I remembered he had played, deliberate and focused. He asked me a question, but I suspect it was to give him time to eat the swordfish. “Are you a basketball fan or was Randle?”

“We were both big basketball fans, and we would go into Memphis for some good barbecue, and then go see the Grizzles play. You were a joy to watch on the court. Your playing style was sweet; you didn’t play for your own stats; you were a real team player, and we liked that. You were always available to do charity work in the Memphis area, and even as far away as Nashville. And that was important to both of us. You were a great athlete who used your fame for others.”

“Stop it, you sound like my agent. Makes me blush.”

I continued deliberately. “You signed a program for me once. It said.
‘Til we meet again’
. I was a young woman, all full of myself, and I thought you meant it just for me!”

“Who’s to say I didn’t?” Coach replied, teasingly.

“When you left the Grizzles, we followed your career in coaching. Randle always admired you as a man because of your playing, your attitude and your charitable work. I’ll have to admit, I admired you as a man but for a different reason. You’re a good looking sexy man, and I developed a serious crush on you.”

Coach stopped in mid-bite and tilted his head to one side and formed a tight smile. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!”

Now the hard part begins.

“I’ve got to tell you something. I was insulted when you hit on me that evening, but deep down, you really turned me on big time. I got over it of course. But when I found that program a year ago and opened to the photos you signed, those feelings started again. I even started having fantasy dreams about you.”

“No way.”

“Yes every way. I had to see you again and find out what kind of man you’ve become. To tell you the truth, I really wanted to see if the dreams I had been having about you come close to reality. So when the Chamber of Commerce secured the Coach’s Convention, I decided this would be my opportunity to finally meet you again. So I arranged for you to be directed to Jimmy’s and to my table.”

“So Roberto and your maître d' are both your henchmen in this scheme?”

“Yes both.”

“And I screwed it up! I wondered why Roberto tried so hard to get me to come down here every night. Damn it, Charley. I am flattered to say the least. Tell me, why did you want to see me again? Young women get crushes on athletes all the time.  Most get over it. You seemed to have carried it for all these years. I bet you don’t want another picture. Tell me, what do you really want?”

This is it. Do I dare go ahead or back down? The door’s open, so do I jump through it? Get a hold of yourself, girl, he’s just a man. I know what I want, but can I tell him?

The handsome young coach looked at me with an expectant stare. He’d placed the situation squarely in my lap, and my body was reacting to the tension. My face was getting a bit flushed and my palms started to get a little clammy. I tried some deep breathing, but that didn’t help. I was having second thoughts, and was unsure how to respond. When this meeting was in the future, sex with Coach Mac was so obvious and easy to plan, but now he’s here and what was obvious and easy before, is a lot less obvious and, for sure, not easy anymore.

What have I done? I really don’t know the man; after this afternoon, what I do know is not too good.  But, I’m committed to it now, I can’t back out. Do I really want to have sex with this man? Hell yes and I hope he’s as good as I think he is. I haven’t had good sex in years. Damn, I said I would do anything to get him. I can’t stop now.

I tried to be confident. “Coach, I’ll be direct and to the point.”

This is harder than I thought it would be.

“I don’t want an autograph or a picture. Coach, you’re right; I do want something from you.”

“What?”

“You really are not making this easy.”

“I’m sorry, maybe you should wait until some other time to tell me.”

“No, I’m okay … I told you, I’ve occasionally had sexy dreams of us. Lately, they’ve been more frequent, and more intense. I can’t explain them, but I can’t seem to stop them either, and I don’t really want to stop them.”

He’s going to think I’m a common whore. Here goes.

“I wanted to see, once and for all, if you’re as sexy in reality as you are in my dreams. I need … I think I want…No, I know. I want to have sex with you. There, I said it!”

I could feel my forehead burning up, my hands were clammy and I had a silly grin on my face.

God, I hope he doesn’t laugh; can’t back out now. Don’t think I really want to back out, I’m ready…

“Huh?” was his only response. He dipped his head to one side. A small wrinkle developed between his eyes. He closed one eye and I could see his mouth silently forming. “What the hell?”

He couldn’t have been more surprised.

Slowly his head rose to look me directly in the eyes. The biggest smile I have ever seen crept across his face. “Charley, you want to have sex with me? After this afternoon, are you crazy? You’re a beautiful and sexy young woman. Any idiot would jump at a chance to sleep with you. Are you sure about this? You don’t know anything about me, really. Well, except that I haven’t had sex for a few years now. I’m probably horrible at it. We met a few times, but that was a long time ago. And this afternoon, I screwed up pretty bad.”

Feeling a bit braver, I returned his glances. “I’m sure. I have had a long time to fantasize about you. I haven’t had a serious relationship in six years, and certainly no real sex. Yeah, I’m sure. I just need to know, so I can get on with my life.”

Coach turned serious again, “What do you mean, you need to know so you can get on with your life?”

Damn, Coach, are you going to make me beg?

“I need to move beyond Randle. My mind says
let go
but my heart can’t let go.  If I let go of the one person who really loved me, I’m afraid I might not be able to find someone else. Coach, you have been the only constant image in my mind for the last year. I have thought about you sexually and non-sexually. But that has all been in my mind and my dreams.  I need to know one way or the other, whether you are … or whether you could well maybe … could you be the one.”

The more I talked, the braver I got, and the tenser I became. “Coach, I’m not going to beg you to do anything more than have dinner. I’m just telling you. I hope dinner is not as far as it goes tonight.”

I was exhausted! I had just exposed myself emotionally and given this man carte-blanche over me and my body. “If you’re up to it, of course,” I beamed.

I couldn’t resist a little tease and a challenge.

“Well, first of all, if you’re serious, you need to call me PJ. All my friends do.”

“PJ? Where did that come from?”

“My name is Phillip Jefferson McCoy. It was such a mouthful that mom shortened it to PJ, Phillip Jefferson … you know.”

I like it. I’ve never made love to a PJ.

“Charley, I’m flattered, but I’m not sure I can perform on command like flipping a switch, nor can you, as much as you might want to.”

“Well, I’m willing to try if you are.”

I was saying the right words, but I was nervous and feeling anxious. This was the same feeling I used to get before the first game of basketball season after I’d practiced long and hard. Practice is one thing but the actual game, that’s different. This one counts, no more practice, this is real. I suspect PJ could see the tension in my shoulders and breathing.

He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Charley, stop trying so hard, just relax and don’t think about it. Sex is beautiful when it’s not forced and there is no agenda. If something happens tonight, it will; if not tonight, maybe tomorrow, I promise. We’re just two people renewing an old friendship and having a quiet evening together. Happens all the time.”

He’s saying ‘yes, yes’.

PJ’s soft soothing voice was warm balm for me. My hands relaxed, and my back sagged slightly as my shoulders began to loosen up. I was able to breathe again. “I know I’ve been thinking too much about this. I don’t know why I’m so tense. Couldn’t be because you’re so damn sexy, could it?”

Impulsively, a nervous giggle and sheepish grin crept out.

“Of course not,” PJ replied softly, but had to laugh. “I’m the one who should be nervous!”

I regained control. “Okay, just two friends catching up. Want some dessert?”

That’s dumb. From sex to dessert? Come on girl get it together.

“I’m not hungry just now, in a minute, maybe?” Coach whispered as he inched closer.

I gave a little nervous jump as our hips touched.

Just relax, no big deal, don’t think.

His arm slipped around my shoulders gently pulling me closer. We were so close I could smell the soap he used. Just as quickly as I gained control of my emotions, his touch and soft voice spoke to my heart, and I lost control again and I didn’t care!  I leaned into his grasp and laid my head on his shoulder. The effects of that smooth voice and confident touch relaxed and relieved any remaining tension and anxiousness I had. My heart skipped a beat when his big soft hand caressed my cheek and angled it toward his face. I felt a slight quiver in my body. He bent his head to my lips and brushed them with a gentle, almost non-kiss. As his lips continued to caress me, I could feel myself surrendering to my feelings, and willed myself to allow this man of my dreams to dominate me and the situation.  I was like putty in his hands.