Authors: Michael Malflic
Nadrea
was in the shower rinsing off, buffing away dry skin, and obsessively shaving already smooth sections of her body ensuring that the minimal potential hair growth since the morning. As she stood under the warm streams of water, steam filling the room she was quietly hoping Vincent would find his way in to join
her ,
but he was still in the other room decompressing, staring mindlessly at information that he didn’t care about and that didn’t matter, it was meaningless data that had no real impact in his life other than being a diversion. For a man who often seemed not to care, he had to work at not worrying about the small things it was the excruciating attention to detail in the few things that impacted his life that mattered. Vincent sat there in his shorts and sandals sipping his vodka, not thinking about much of anything.
Soon after
Nadrea
was putting lotion on her skin, doing her hair and contemplating the severity of her makeup for the evening
, Her
undergarments were chosen and soon she found herself staring at
the armoire, unlike Vincent’s gaze hers was intense and mindful. She treated things like the choice of clothing as if it were a world altering event, the message, the perception her look conveyed. As
Nadrea
fretted over what to wear Vincent ran a comb through his hair, rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his face and slipped into a pair of black flat front gabardine wool pants, and a striped Thomas Pink spread collar shirt, dull black loafers and plain black Armani socks he had picked up earlier in the week from Saks. For as much though as
Nadrea
had put into laying out three things to choose from, Vincent had dressed completely, looking quite sharp and watched five more minutes of TV.
While
Nadrea
pondered her choices Vincent began. “In general I like
Julianni
, he did a lot of great things,
the
city is much safer than it used to be but it’s too fucking clean.”
Nadrea
continued to look over her potential choices as Vincent continued. “And what the fuck happened to the porn, ok
get
rid of the pushers and the hookers, the hookers all found their way down to the
Javits
center so where did the porn shops go? Now they sell teddies and sundries to meet the stupid ratio, but what if I want a good magazine?”
Nadrea
chimes in “Or the latest dildo”
Vincent almost caring that she joined in the conversation “A decent porno.
Might as well order your porn online or through a catalog like you live in the Midwest.”
“Oh there’s still everything you could ever want here you just have to look a little more. It’s mostly time square that was cleaned up.”
Nadrea
finally decided on a short skirt and tight blouse, finalizing her decision that she would wear her hair down and only moderately high heels.
“Where are we going?”
“To a gallery opening,” she replied.
“Tell me it’s not going to be all old people drinking cheap wine thinking they know something about art.” Vincent was slowly becoming more of the man
Nadrea
had gotten to know.
“Not old people, really old people, and boxed wine” she said coldly hoping to keep his interest while she finished her third drink of the preparation ritual, Vincent sipped lightly on his second but he was standing behind the table watching the Friday afternoon melee on the city streets. The pre-theater dinner and local after
work crowd was being joined by the mostly and overtly non native New York idiot tourists, most of who probably hadn’t seen a high rise let alone live or work in one.
Nadrea
decided that her look needed a little bit of stimulation and went to a higher heel and slightly brighter lipstick than she originally intended.
“Pour me another,” she called putting the finishing touches on her outfit with earrings and accessories.
“Why so I have to carry you around tonight?” Vincent answered already pouring her next martini.
“Sounds fun to me.
Being thrown over your shoulder,
mmm
delicious possibilities”
Vincent was only moderately amused “Like leaving you passed out in an alley propped up on the trash bags when I get tired of carrying you. With your ass hanging out from under your skirt”
Nadrea
annoyed “Not quite what I had in mind, I was thinking more of a rugged cowboy type throwing a protesting me over his shoulder and carrying me away”
Vincent has just poured his third drink. “Last time I checked I have never ridden a horse” “Never fucked a fat girl, huh?” She was feeling playful adding, “I’m only suggesting, I didn’t say you had to wear chaps and a cowboy hat
Vin
.”
“That’s good because I hate the cowgirl look even more than the librarian look.” He laughed but she was getting defensive.
“I’m a lawyer, I have to look professional.”
He continued to laugh as her annoyance began to show.
“Might want to go change your outfit.”
Nadrea
was now becoming self-conscious she absolutely hated that, it wasn’t often that she was filled with doubt, but Vincent had a way about him that she questioned all the little things she obsessed about even more when he was around.
Her tone softened to an almost shy, “Why?”
“Because all the old fucks at the art gallery are going to be hitting on you, while extolling the virtues of Viagra.
You might cause an unhealthy spike in erectile dysfunction drug usage.”
Nadrea
grinned at the thought of a room full of hopeless men wanting her, it is what most often motivated her, her looks were by nature exotic with her angular eyes and dark hair complemented by the sexuality that she worked quite hard to make sure came through, although it always looked effortless to others. She was
very much a sexually driven being, not accustomed to feelings of doubt and insecurity, a point that she chose not to dwell on. Her own self worth was largely based on her perception of how desirable she was to others, being lusted after by everyone mattered to her whether or not she had an interest in them wasn’t at all relevant.
Steve continued to babble away at Christy back in DC, she still had an overly important perception of her life and what she did.
Finally though she had begun treating him as a second class citizen which was
amarked
improvement
from
her previous view of below subhuman life form.
Unnatural Acts
Steve finished his time behind the bar and found his way to the other side to join the Husker, Donna, and Christy, who was tolerating his presence almost as well as Donna was tolerating hers. Steve had a genuine boy like attraction to Christy
, he
despite his pedigree, was not the type of man she imagined herself with. As the night wore on her own sense of growing paranoia began creeping up her butt. She felt blocked, she felt separated from Robert. She had not received any of his attention other than trivial pleasant conversation since Donna had arrived. Christy had been separated physically by her nemesis’ position and emotionally by Robert’s lack of focus on her. He was not intending to ignore her but still it was if she wasn’t there. The Husker was lost in Donna, much the same way that so many people are lost in each other during those first intense and crucial lasting moments in a new relationship.
Still Christy felt ostracized, much the intention of
Donna’s
territorial behavior, physical contact, and relentless engagement of Robert’s conversation. She felt not like the Capulet’s and Montague’s separated from her lover by a misunderstanding and a foolish distrust and feud. She didn’t feel like she had been set aside temporarily, but was still loved and valued while something more urgent was tended to. Rather she felt like she had been cast out of heaven, damned to hell eternally separated from God’s love. For Satan was once also the son of the morning, he too was a thing of beauty an angel most high, his heart was lifted because of his beauty, because of pride and intention to sit not in the glory and power of God but because of the delusion to supplant it. Christy felt an unexplainable cold, a jealousy, and contempt that
was
growing. Why had she been cast aside like the morning star she had not risen against the power that she served, she had not risen against God but she had been risen against, still she in her own mind had not committed an act of mutiny, not an inkling of defiance. She continued to drink, her caution wavered, her coordination impaired, and her judgment diminished. As her feelings of isolation grew so did her desire to confront her tormentors but before that she had decided to disappear into the
back of the restaurant. As she returned from the restroom Donna and the Husker had vanished in to the night like the demons she imagined them to be taunting her before slithering away into the night.
“Bitch!”
Christy proclaimed raising her glass to her lips. Then for the first time needing an ear to listen she began to talk to Steve in earnest. “I hate her. Everything was perfect until that little slut came along.”
Steve innocently offered “She seems nice enough to me.”
Christy drew a troubled heaving breath “Well she’s not, she’s a jezebel,
I
hate everything about her. She’s always in the middle of everything, disrupting what is important changing how things are done to the point that he isn’t spending time where he needs to.” “Did you and Robert” pausing to look for her reaction “use to date?”
Christy growing angry at the stupidity of the man before her “No why?” her tone cruel like he was once again suddenly subhuman not worthy of the time they were spending together, he was suddenly once again an annoyance who was breathing her air.
“So why do you care?” he inquired.
He was a moron, why was she wasting her time but she needed to vent, someone to listen to and since her cat didn’t provide an ear he would have to continue to do.
“I used to know everything. I was part of every second of his life, everything he did. I knew his inner most thoughts and feelings I helped to shape his plans and goals.
Now he’s with her disappearing, doing things that he has never done before, things that he never had an interest in.”
Steve had to ask “Does he know every second of your life?”
“No!” she snapped knowing damn well that it was a lie, Robert in fact knew every second of her life in painstaking detail. He knew her complete devotion to him although he had never asked for
it,
he knew all of her select group of friends and each and every social engagement that she kept both personal and professional although he never asked. Robert however, only knew these things because she told
him,
it was how she proved her devotion.
Christy finished her drink. “Let’s go” she said standing to her more than slightly intoxicated feet. “
Where?”
And in a bitter tone in her voice “Somewhere he would never expect.”
Soon after Steve was standing outside an apartment building as she opened the door looking back over her should asked “Are you coming or not?” Moments later they were in her modest living room talking away, alone, unencumbered and lost in each other. Across town the Husker and Donna were saying good night, three hours later as the last of Christy’s buzz faded, emotionally exhausted she leaned in and kissed Steve. The kiss was shallow and awkward, it did however tingle,
her
lips came alive with the soft sensation as her soul began to lighten. As their lips separated Steve waited, she thought about how long it had been since she had kissed anyone, not to mention with romantic intent, she thought more about how long it had been since a man’s touch had caressed her skin, the years had passed, she never could admit to herself how misguided and lonely her journey had become. Placing her arms around him she kissed him again.
“Thanks for listening.”
He kissed her back. “You’re welcome.” Steve stated as he began to stand, his feet uncomfortable his posture wavering and unsteady.
“Is something wrong?” She stood her arm around his neck.
“I just keep hoping I’m not dreaming.”
She leaned back arms still reaching up around him looked squarely at his face replied, “Why would this be a dream?”