Desires Unleashed (4 page)

“Okay, okay already! Damn, I'm up! I'm awake! Breathe back and let me up. I'm getting out of the bed right this minute, happy?” She glared at her friend playfully. “You know, sometimes I hate you,” she joked. Annette only smiled, crawled off of the bed and headed for the kitchen to flip over the bacon. This was her week to cook breakfast and she was accustomed to a true down home southern style breakfast with all the trimmings. Sizzling maple glazed bacon, scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese. Not to ever be without a few slices of honey glazed ham, thick slices of French toast sprinkled with cinnamon and powdered sugar, slow cooked grits, (cheese is optional) and hash browns mixed with green and red peppers and onions. All this was to be topped off with a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

Natasha always wondered how Annette could eat like a bear and still retain her slim, curvy figure. It always seemed to get her the big bucks at
Desires Unleashed,
the super popular dance and strip nightclub where Annette worked, stripping five nights out of the
week. She herself hated her figure. Well, maybe hate was too strong a word to describe her personal feelings about her own figure. One thing she knew for certain, if she continued to eat Annette's southern style meals, she would no doubt end up looking like a beached whale. She could smell the
t
antalizing aroma coming from the kitchen and felt her mouth water. She would have drooled had she not closed her mouth in time. It was always embarrassing to catch yourself drooling. She remembered once when she fell asleep on the red line train coming home from work, waking up just in time to feel a drop of drool hit her hand. She had been as embarrassed as she was disgusted.
Everyone knows that drooling is for babies and drunks.

After handling her necessities, she reached for her battery operated
OralSmart
toothbrush. The advertising guaranteed that the toothbrush would reach the back molars to remove plaque and debris that would have otherwise been left to damage your teeth by the competition. Annette had accused her of being a “lazy ass” when she first caught her using the motorized toothbrush. Natasha didn't care, she loved the way the bristles massaged her gums as the toothpaste provided a cool foam. After gargling, she hit the shower, hoping Annette was too preoccupied in the kitchen cooking her high-fat, high calorie, high-blood pressure, quick heart-attack breakfast to come running into the bathroom to flush the toilet like she did that one time last week. She could have killed her for that.

That little act of cruelty would not go unpunished. Natasha had to keep score so that she could get even. She finished bathing and climbed out of the shower. She rummaged through her closet for something to wear that wasn't too small or out of date. Natasha silently noted that she needed to go shopping. She had been avoiding going shopping so she wouldn't have to face the fact that she had gained a few pounds. No longer was she the size four she had been. However, thanks to Annette cattle prodding her out of the door at five o'clock in the morning four days out of the week, she had worked her weight down to a size eight. She knew the reason for her weight gain. Her mom had always warned her to never take comfort in food. When her boyfriend of four years left her for a size two slut with silicone tits and collagen lips, her dog of twelve years passed away of old age, and getting a sudden promotion on her job, only to be caught up in the downsizing struck her all in the same month,
she
look it pretty hard.

But instead of diving
onto
the jagged rocks of Lake Michigan,
she
decided to dive
into
a gallon of double fudge cookies and cream ice cream, followed up by endless amounts of ribs, chicken and candy bars. Now looking at her reflection in the mirror, she regretted letting food comfort her. She had noted the thin stretch marks on
her
stomach and the underside of her arms had begun to disappear. Her mom always told her vitamin E and cocoa butter would get rid of any small blemish over time. She was putting it to the test. The results were better than she expected; the thin stretch marks were virtually invisible.

She held her arms outstretched and was thankful the flesh didn't jiggle; there was still hope. Natasha finally settled on a pair of black front pleated slacks and a satin smoke gray button up shirt with faux
mother-of-pearl
buttons. She searched her shoe rack for the perfect footwear, spotting a pair of black leather ankle boots with a two and a half inch heel. Two inch heels were challenge enough for her to walk in. She couldn't see how Annette managed to walk in six inch spikes every day let alone dance in them five nights out of the week. Leaning over the vanity, Natasha applied her makeup. Because of her caramel complexion, she chose flesh toned cosmetics by
Anisi.
She preferred the more “natural” look. She appreciated cosmetic companies that acknowledged other flesh tones in the world.

“Well, look at you. Don't you look gorgeous! I like how you did your hair; it turned out nicely. I was doubtful, but it's all good,” Annette said, smiling at her friend's crinkly long locks. “I like that whole ethnic look, remind me to try that style.”

Natasha looked at her friend with raised eyebrows. “I think if you were to try this look out, you may end up looking like a tumbleweed. I think your hair would look so cute with spiral rods or braids, You should do that Annette, it would look so cute! Ain't you tired of the old 'Hailey Barrymore' look?”

“Shit girl, not if I still look good I'm not!” Annette said with a swivel of her hips and a shake of her well rounded derriere.

Natasha giggled at her friend. “So you're working tonight?” she asked. “I thought you were off this Friday?” She sat down at the table and began preparing her plate, adding small servings of everything. She thought twice about adding bacon and the ham, or grits, toasts and the hash browns all together, but then decided you only live once. Taking small portions of everything, she settled back into her chair and started stuffing her mouth.

“Yeah, I have to be there at seven o'clock. I wasn't going to work tonight, but then Sara wanted to switch nights with me so that she and her asshole boyfriend could patch up their sinking relationship. They're planning on going to a hotel or some sleazy motel, for a passionate night of three-two minute intervals of sexcapades. So I'm on the night shift. The only good thing about it is that it's a Friday night so the place will be super crowded and the tips will be oh, so lovely! This body's going to get mama that new car, ain't that right!” she exclaimed, then proceeded to lap dance in her chair.

“Your ass is disgusting,” Natasha said with a mock grimace.

“On the contrary, my ass is firm, round, bodacious and I know how to work it! Do I need to demonstrate?”

“Oh god, no! I don't know how much more of your ass obsession I can take!” The two women laughed and continued conversing as they finished their breakfast.

The time was 10:42 A.M., and Natasha had everything she needed. She had her resume, references, portfolio and confidence. She headed down to the
Chicago Word
for her appointment. She had heard through a friend of a friend, whose cousin worked at the popular and well credited newspaper, that there was a position available for a photographer. It was a long-shot but a shot nonetheless; she hoped the position wasn't already filled. She hated looking for a new job, it always made her think of prostitution. Getting dressed in your most attractive attire, the kind of outfit that states you mean business. Then leave the comfort of your home to go from interview to interview, trying to sell yourself to just about anyone who would give you a chance to prove your worth. If you were really good at what you did, then you could name your price while you recited your skills.

“Miss, you may go in now,” said the little snooty secretary. Natasha did not like this woman. She did not appreciate the little sideways glances she kept getting from the woman. Besides she thought her cleavage baring red blouse and just-below-crotch length black skirt was inappropriate for the work place. Then again, maybe she didn't like her because she reminded her of her ex-boyfriend's new flame. One thing was for certain, she would continue to not like her until the woman proved herself likable. She knew she was being judgmental and unfair, but it made her feel better.

Once inside the office, she sat nervously as the interviewer went through her portfolio and resume. Every once in a while darting expressionless glances at her. Natasha couldn't decide whether it was this man's three piece charcoal-black suit, complete with buttoned up vest, the big office, or his own masculine aura, whatever the case, she could feel her confidence melting away with every passing minute.

“It says here,” he said, pointing to a spot on her resume, “that you graduated from Gibson College here in Chicago. You majored in photography and...” he cocked his head sideways, “psychology. What interested you in those two fields?” He looked up at Natasha, anticipating her response.

Natasha sat up straight; she had not realized she was slouching. She hoped to god the interviewer didn't notice either. “Well, I've always been entertained by the idea of capturing beauty or freeze framing the special events of time in a photograph. As a child, I would take pictures of random things with my instant camera and make collages. I loved how a person could capture motion or emotion in an instant. With a picture, that one moment would last forever, even if the memory faded.” She paused to catch her breath.

The interviewer seemed pleased with her answer and genuinely impressed by her obvious passion.

“And what about the psychology?” he asked. It really didn't matter to him what her answer was for that question. He was just intrigued by her choice of the double majors. He decided immediately after reviewing her portfolio that it was the best work he had seen in a long time. He was pleased with the way she worked with light and shadows. She had an eye for beauty as well as freezing the “moment.” Whether it was a roaring waterfall or an elderly lady celebrating a birthday, her photographs came to life to tell their own story.

“Well, that's a more boring story. I had to take a psychology-credited class for one of my general electives and I just became intrigued by the human psyche. I found it interesting that there were classifications for the various behaviors that people exhibited. And equally as interesting were the various scientific reasoning for these behaviors. Not to mention the various methods used for treatments, only to discover there's still so much for us to learn.” She finished with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

The interviewer seemed to ponder that for a moment. The answer was even more simple than he had expected. He gathered himself, clapped his hands together as if he was breaking a spell and rose from his seat.

“Well, Miss Hemingway, you will be pleased to know that you have the job. Congratulations! We expect to see you bright and early, Monday morning. The good news is you'll start working at the beginning of the pay period,” he said as he shook her hand. Natasha couldn't believe her luck. She finally got a job and only after six months of being jobless. Well, she did have to admit that for the first three months, she had spent that valuable time perfecting her couch potato skills.

Her best friend Annette had tried to convince her to apply at one of the many new, hot spots popping up all over the city being run by bloodsuckers and flesh eaters. However, that was a little too close for comfort. She never saw the vampire owned club that

Annette worked in. She didn't even want see a vampire or shape-shifter
if she didn't have to.

Annette had laughed at her, saying that she'd probably had already seen vampires and shape-shifters time and time again and didn't know it. She said that the differences between the supernatural and human race were so subtle, usually people overlooked the difference either by refusing to believe what their eyes see, or by sheer ignorance. Still, Natasha decided to not tempt the wolf with a steak, the steak being her. She just stayed clear of establishments that were known to be owned or patronized by supernaturals. She was glad the government made those particular business owners register their businesses. Of course, she couldn't decide whether or not they did it to keep track of the supernatural businesses for the safety of the people, or just to charge such businesses an outrageous tax fee. In the end she decided to leave it alone.

There was a celebration to be had! She finally landed a job and it was the kind of job she had wanted for a long time. It was true that good things come to those who wait, and Lord knows she had waited. She pulled out her little cell phone to call Annette. She waited impatiently while the phone rang several times. She hoped Annette was home;
there was nothing worse than having something to
say,
and no one to say it to.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Annette answered the phone just in time. Natasha was j
ust
about to hang up.