Read Round N Around We Go (Has Cupid Gone Mad?) Online
Authors: Belinda Elkaim
She climbs back into the car,
locks the doors and reaches for
her cell phone. Neither Taylor
nor Amber has returned her
calls.
Redialing
Taylor’s
number, she is startled to a
scream by knocks on the window.
Karina gasps and stares at the
stranger standing next to door.
He knocks on the window again
and gestures her to roll down
the window. Frightened, she
stares at this rather attractive
and well dressed man, he does
not appear to her as someone who
would harm her but she has
learned not to trust anyone by
the way they present themselves.
“Go away!” she gestures him to
leave. Shaking her head from
side to side, she repeats from
inside the safety of her locked
car and expects him to read her
lips. “Go away!” she screams
louder.
She watches the stranger walk
back towards his car
parked
behind hers. The head lights of
his car are turned on and she
can hardly see beyond the headon lights.
From the rearview mirror, she
watches him open the trunk of
his car. She can see that he is
bringing out an object that
resembles a long metal stick and
is holding a black object in his
hand.
Panicking and about to dial 911
for help, she pauses as he walks
past her and bends out of sight
by the front wheel.
She feels the car jolting a bit
then drops to level. After a
series of clanging noise, the
stranger stands up and turns off
the black flash light in his
hand.
Still
startled,
Karina
is
speechless and the only thing
that she is capable of doing at
this particular moment is to
continue
watching
him
in
silence.
Holding the metal jack and flash
light in one hand, the stranger
reaches into the pocket of his
pants and pulls out a card. He
manages to write something on it
and
slips
it
under
the
windshield wiper of Karina’s
car.
He taps gently on the window of
her car and flashes a genuinely
warm smile before he walks back
to his car and drives off.
Still speechless, Karina unlocks
the doors and steps out of the
car. The punctured tire is
tossed out of the way and the
spare tire is intact. The tools
that were scattered are put back
neatly
into
the
toolbox.
Expediently, she grabs the
toolbox and the card from under
the windshield.
Quickly she climbs back into the
car and turns on the light to
read the card. On the back of
his business card and in his
handwriting
he
scribbled:
“You’re welcome.”
She flips to the front of his
business card and reads his name
out loud, “Keith Pelzer, PA.
Thank you.” She laughs and
shrugs in relief. “Okay,” she
mumbles, “now how the heck do I
get out of here?”
Completely lost, Karina decides
to try the number printed on his
business card and he answers by
the second ring. “This is
Keith.” He answers.
“Hello Keith, this is Karina
Sebastian. Thank you so much for
helping me change the tire.” She
pauses briefly, “this is too
embarrassing but I just moved to
midtown and am completely lost
here, can you please tell me how
to
get
back
to
Biscayne
Boulevard?”
“Oh is that why you looked so
scared? You’re lucky I was there
at the right place and the right
time to be able to help you.” He
speaks in a comforting tone of
voice. “Where are you now?”
“I’m still in the same spot
where you found me.”
She
chuckles and hears a signal on
her phone that indicates the low
battery level and that the phone
is about to power down. “The
battery of my phone is about to
run out.” She adds quickly.
“Alright, stay there and do not
drive off anywhere. Turn off all
the lights and lock the doors.
I’m turning around to come get
you.” The low battery signal
continues to beep a few more
times before the phone shuts
off.
“Great!” Karina sighs and tosses
the phone onto the passenger
seat.
She has no other choice but to
wait patiently for him to
arrive.
At this moment, Keith appears to
be the only person available to
help her. Without any doubt in
her mind, this is merely a
coincidence and it just happens
that he is there at the most
perfect timing.
Gullibly, it
never crosses her mind that this
might possibly be a brilliantly
calculated trap.
Taylor
Gibbons, an untamed
beauty, stubborn, defiant and
highly talented aspiring author
by the making of recognized
publisher Ivan Solovich, also
her
editor
and
boyfriend,
mindlessly busies herself in
their kitchen while organizing
her recipe cards when Ivan trips
over some junk items scattered
across the floor. He stumbles a
few steps forward and grabs onto
the back of a barstool to
balance.
He truly loves her, but being
highly organized and accustomed
to
bachelorhood,
he
has
maintained a clutter free home
for all his life and cannot help
feeling a little irate by her
mess. He reminds her that it has
been a month since she moved in
and she should really finish
unpacking.
She
honestly loves him, but
having lived alone for most of
her adult years, she is not used
to having anyone telling her
what she can or cannot do.
Their relationship for the past
year
has
been
faultlessly
perfect. They complete each
other and make each other whole.
When he asked her to move in,
the idea seemed perfect at the
moment and made absolute sense.
Now that they have fully
integrated with no space between
each other, it’s too late for a
second guess. They will have to
make this work.
She bites her lower lip, scans
across the living room and
frowns at the stack of unopened
boxes. Secretly she agrees with
him but she is too exhausted to
unpack. His tolerance for her
clutter does not motivate her to
complete the task expediently.
She looks at him blankly, makes
up another excuse and tries to
brush him off.
Seeing through her excuses, he
realizes the only way to make
her reprioritize is to create a
situation with a timeline that
she must comply. Spontaneously,
he decides that it’s the perfect
moment to throw a small party at
his condo to celebrate their
milestone of moving in together.
“I’m inviting a handful of our
friends to come over for dinner
this
Saturday
night,”
he
embraces her from behind and
continues lovingly, “don’t worry
about cooking, I’ll have it
catered.”
She turns around slowly in his
arms and faces him. “Wait, did
you decide on throwing a dinner
party without checking with me
first?” She pouts and realizes
that she has been cornered. He
is giving her four more days to
finish unpacking, “And why this
Saturday? What is the rush?”
“It’s our one month milestone
for moving in together.” He
smiles and gazes into her eyes.
Understanding
his
hidden
intention, she smiles back and
kisses him passionately on the
lips. “Milestone party, never
heard of that.” She laughs and
kisses him again.
“Well, you just heard it.” He
winks and squeezes her perfectly
shaped buttocks.
Reciprocating
his
passionate
touch, she cradles his neck with
both hands and gently massages
the back of his neck with her
fingertips, a trick that sends
chills throughout his body. His
‘on’ switch as she calls it,
once triggered, it makes him
horny. Extremely horny.
He lifts her up and she wraps
her slender long legs around his
waist. He places her gently on
top of one of the larger boxes
on the floor as they fondle each
other. Mesmerized by his deep
green eyes, she presses her
lusciously full lips against his
and whispers inaudibly into the
kiss,
He hasn’t said those three words
yet and she isn’t going to be
the one to say it first, at
least not audibly.
The
delectable
moment
is
interrupted by the ringtone of
her cell phone as he pulls her
tank top over her head. He tries
to unhook her black lace bra but
she tries to stop him, “I should
answer the phone.”
“Nonsense.” He bends lower a
little and kisses the fullness
of her voluptuous breasts.
Helplessly she leans back and
enjoys the tenderness of his
touch.
Just as he is about to unhook
her bra, her phone rings for a
second
time.
“Maybe
it’s
important.” She murmured. “I’ll
be right back.”
Reluctantly he watches her stand
up and disappears into the
kitchen. Bored waiting, he sees
a paper knife on the floor next
to the box and figures he could
help her unpack by opening some
of the boxes.
He opens the box right next to
him and a bright red journal
catches his eye. Curiously he
picks up the journal, flips
through the pages and realizes
that it is her diary. He isn’t
going to read it but before he
has a chance to put it down, he
hears her scream,
“What are you doing? Put it
down!” She rushes over then
pries her diary from his hands.
Relieved that she got back in
time to safeguard her secrets,
she leans over, kisses him on
the cheeks and apologizes for
screaming at him. “I’m sorry
babe, didn’t mean to raise my
voice but reading someone else’s
diary is not very cool.” She
follows with a smile to let him
now that she is not upset.
Surprised by her reaction, he
stands up and looks at her
coldly. “First of
all,” he
speaks solemnly, “you are not
just ‘someone else.’ Secondly,
you don’t have anything to hide
from me, do you?”
Taylor clasps her diary tightly
against her chest and protects
it under crossed arms. “Of
course not, but I started this
diary a long time before we met
and those memories and emotions
belong to only me and not us.”
“Fair enough.” Ivan’s protective
mechanism triggers a red flag in
his mind. He thought he has her
ultimate trust but apparently
not the way he expects it. “So
why is this diary here in our
home? I suggest you keep it in a
place that belongs to only you
and not us.”
Feeling rather
disappointed, “Taylor I love
you, but do understand this,
from the moment that you decided
to move in with me, our worlds
are no longer segregated. Before
you unpack all your boxes, I
need your commitment that from
now on, there would be no
secrets between us. If that is
not what you have in mind, then
we
shouldn’t
be
living
together.”
He caught her off guard and she
is quite surprised by his
reaction. Feeling a little
intimidated, she decides to
retreat and to play it soft.
“I’m sorry if I upset you in any
way.” Taylor feels extremely
uncomfortable
in
this
conversation but understands his
motivation. “The last thing I’d
like is for you to keep any
secrets from me, so no, I will
not keep any secrets from you
either.” She puts the diary back
into the open box and holds him
tightly. “Maybe you’re right, I
should not be holding on to the
past. I think I’ll burn those
memories so I can truly focus on
our future together.”
Content with what he is being
told, he kisses her forehead
gently and embraces her with his
love. “I think we have some
unfinished business here.” He
grins, lifts her off the floor
and carries her to their
bedroom. “By the way,” he
whispers into her ear, “have I
told
you
that
you
look
delicious?”
Playfully
she
teases
and
provokes him. Touching his short
chestnut
colored
hair
and
staring into his dark blue eyes
she whispers,
“And I taste
delicious too. You should know
that.”
At
this
particular
moment, her deliciousness is the
only thing that he needs to
know. Everything else, including
unpacking, would have to wait.
It has been a rather hectic day
at Theodore’s art gallery;
flaunting her best at a private
showing for Renzo Trovatelli,
one of New York’s most affluent
art
collectors,
Karina
is
distracted by Theodore’s odd
behavior inside his office. The
soft Buddhabar music playing in
the background cannot compete
with the clatter of Theodore’s
fiery
conversation over the
phone.
The dialogue is indistinct but
they can tell that Theodore is
disturbed.
Just as she is introducing
another piece of art to the
collector, Theodore rushes into
the
main
gallery,
excuses
himself over an unexpected
emergency and leaves hastily.
Apologetically, Karina smiles at
Renzo and tries to seal the art
deal without her mentor. “I
saved the best for the last,”
she smiles proudly, “this is one
of my own.” She shows him one of
her best pieces. “I understand
that I am a new artist and do
not
deserve
to
be
shown
alongside the other renowned
artists, but I am assertive and
I believe in my work, so I hope
you like it.”
Renzo studies and admires her
painting silently with a subtle
smile.
Karina
wishes
that
Theodore would have waited for
just a moment longer to finish
off the showing but she has no
other option than to complete
the mission alone.
After a moment of nerve wrecking
silence, Renzo turns around and
awards
her
a
compliment.
“Theodore is lucky man. I wish I
have someone like you to take
care of my gallery.” After a
short pause he adds, “Maybe I
can hand you the offer over
breakfast tomorrow morning?”
Hesitantly, “I’m sure Theodore
would prefer to receive
the
offer
personally. It’s his
gallery after all.” She answers
politely
with
a
hint
of
signature sweetness.
He touches her arm and adds
cleverly, “I thought you want to
be assertive. Perhaps I misread
you?”
His
insinuation
is
becoming clearer.
Karina understands that if she
wants Renzo to include her piece
into the deal, then she will
have no choice but to entertain
his invitation.
Flirtatiously she attempts to
control the situation, “How
about if you make the offer now?
Why wait for the morning?”
He smiles impishly, “I don’t
work well under pressure.” He
leans over, kisses her on both
cheeks and is ready to leave.
“I’m staying at the Eden Roc
Hotel, why don’t you meet me in
the lobby at 8:30 am.”
Escorting him to the door, she
smiles courteously and maintains
a comfortable distance, “See you
in the morning.”
She frowns as she watches him
cross the street and sees her
date, Keith Pelzer, walking
towards her.
Wearing a fitted shirt that
accentuates his broad shoulders
and firm chest, Keith struts
down the street and approaches
Karina with a smile. His brown
eyes light up with excitement
but she can sense that he is
nervous. “Hi gorgeous, you look
even more beautiful in the day
light.” He leans over and gives
her a friendly kiss on the
cheek.
A striking smile grows on her
face and reflects her obvious
admiration for him. “Thank you.
By the way, I have to thank you
once again for helping me change
the tire and finding my way home
the other night. I still cannot
believe I got lost in my own
neighborhood.” She laughs in
embarrassment.
“Mid-town is designed in a
strange way.” He eases her
embarrassment. “I’m sure you’re
not the only one who has ever
gotten lost there. Once you
learn the area you will be
fine.”
“Well, considering that there
was no battery left in my phone
and the tire blew, I was lucky
that you happened to be there at
the same time, otherwise I would
have been stuck there all night.
Lucky me.” She gazes into his
eyes with sincere gratitude.
“No,” he smiles and inches
closer, “lucky me. It was a
strange night but I’m glad we
met.”
“Would you like to come in and
check out the art? I need a few
minutes to organize everything
and I can close up.”
“It’ll be just a few minutes.”
She smiles and walks towards
Theodore’s office.
“Don’t worry; we are not in a
rush.” He follows her into the
office and sits on the sofa
waiting. Scanning around the
office, he compliments on the
exquisiteness of the décor. “I
wish my office looks like this.”
“Oh it’s not my office. I run
the gallery for Theodore, my
mentor. When he’s not available,
I take care of his business.”
Trying to file away the log
sheets as quickly as possible,
she mumbles into the folders.
“He is also my art broker. My
God, he has taught me so much in
everything. He lifted me up at
the lowest point of my life and
stood by me.
Honestly, I
wouldn’t have made it this far
if it weren’t for him. In a way,
he saved me. He’s almost like a
father figure to me.”
Keith admires the relationship
that Karina shares with Theodore
and while pretending to be
paying attention, he carefully
studies the layout of the office
and watches her turn around to
stack away the files. Taking the
opportunity that she is not
watching, expediently he leans
forward and pushes a metallic
object deep under the sofa and
props up just in time before she
turns around.
Casually he sweeps back a lock
of his dark brown hair and
smiles. “I’d love to hear all
about your art and how you
became an artist. Your mentor
Theodore seems interesting too,
is he famous? I’d like to learn
more about him too.”
Karina sits next to Keith and
unsure of where to begin, she
gazes into his eyes and waits
for him to speak. She will tell
him everything after a few
glasses of chardonnay.
Confidently he touches her hand.
“Hugry?” he asks. “We have
reservations for dinner at this
quaint
little
Italian
restaurant. You’ll like the
ambiance.”
“Yes. I’m ready to close.” She
picks up her bag, turns off the
light and closes the door of the
office behind them. He follows
her to the alarm pad and watches
absorbedly
as she trustingly
keys in the four digit security
code: “4827.”
Secretly he smiles. This is
going to be far easier than he
has expected.
Twenty minutes into the photo
shoot and the photographer calls
for a break to reset the
lighting. Perfect timing as
Amber’s make up needs to be
retouched as well. Preparing for
the second season of her
Broadway musical “Life After
Death”, a new poster is planned
for the billboards to push for
continued success of the show.
Amber struts slowly towards the
photographer, a
mature but
rather attractive and talented
artistic director who comes
highly recommended by her peers.
Disregarding the presence of
Lizzie, her voice student and
second female lead of the
musical, and Neyo, her lover and
male lead of the show, she feels
flirtatious and creeps up from
behind him while he adjusts the
lighting. Leaning over his
shoulder, she asks for a preview
of the shoot. Her face nearly
touches his as she looks into
the screen of his camera.
From across the room, Neyo
watches Amber flirt with the
photographer and begins to feel
jealous. “Why is she hovering
over him?” he mumbles to himself
but is overheard by Lizzie.
“Amber can do whatever she wants
to do.” Lizzie remarks sharply.
She doesn’t Neyo and thinks he
is a bad influence in Amber’s
life.
Clearly, Amber deserves someone
hugely better than a womanizer
like Neyo. ‘He must be extremely
good in bed.’ She thinks to
herself and walks away with a
blunt expression on her face.
‘Bitch’ he swallows the word and
walks over to Amber instead.
Shrewdly
he interrupts their
conversation, “Can we do the
group shoot now?”
“Not yet.” The photographer puts
down his camera and continues
adjusting the lighting. “I’m not
done with Amber yet.”
Annoyed and irritated, Neyo
protrudes his chest and inches
up to him, “What do you mean by
you’re not done with Amber yet.
Are you two doing it?”
Amber gasps in disbelieve. “Neyo
you’ve got to be kidding. What’s
wrong with you?” She squeezes
his arm and pulls him over to
the other side of the studio.
Speaking quietly yet firmly,
“Neyo this is ridiculous, what
are you thinking? That is the
rudest thing I’ve ever heard!
You have absolutely no right to
speak like that, especially when
we’re at work.”
Defensively, “Yes but you were
all over him!” He raises his
voice angrily.
“Excuse me?” Amber crosses her
arms and stares at Neyo. “I can
be all over anyone I want. No
strings attached, remember? That
is our deal. You are not my
boyfriend so don’t start to act
as if you are. Period. If you
don’t want to wait for the group
shoot then by all means you can
leave.”
“I am not nasty. I am upset.
What you said in front of the
photographer is rude and utterly
disrespectful. I have zero
tolerance for that.” She presses
on.
“So when you are upset I become
dispensable? Really? You would
wrap the shoot without your lead
man by your side?” He shakes his
head and backs away a little
further. As if his feelings are
hurt, he crosses his arms and
challenges her with a piercing
stare.
The photographer walks over to
Lizzie and asks her quietly if
Amber and Neyo is a couple.
Lizzie shakes her head and
replies quietly, “No not really.
They are sort of together but
not really together. I think he
is just her boy toy. Not sure
why he’s acting up today.”
Amber finally wins the heated
argument and Neyo unwillingly
apologizes to the photographer.
No longer inspired for the photo
shoot, Amber picks up a bottle
of chilled Pellegrino and heads
over to the dressing room for a
retouch of makeup.
Feeling a little stuck, Amber is
beginning
to
regret
her
involvement with Neyo. Lately he
has been acting strangely and is
starting to become distastefully
clingy. She does not like his
new found behavior, not one
minuscule bit.
She would like to break up with
him, but in reality there is
nothing
to
break.
Their
involvement is supposed to be
‘unattached’ but lately
his
possessiveness far exceeds his
entitlement. This must cease.
Feeling calmer, Amber finishes
retouching her makeup and heads
back into the studio. Lizzie and
the photographer sit on the sofa
waiting, while the assistant
hangs a new background sheet and
Neyo is no where in sight.
Fueling the rage and hoping that
they breakup, Lizzie offers
indifferently, “Neyo is becoming
uncontrollable! Out of the blue,
he walked up and punched through
the
background
paper
then
stormed out. He left.” Lizzie
answers bluntly.
“He left in the middle of a
shoot?
That’s insane.” Amber
frowns and rubs her temples.
“Trouble.”
She
mumbles
to
herself and picks up the phone
to call him.
Reaching his voicemail for the
third
time,
Amber
becomes
annoyed, puts down her phone and
pauses to think. After a brief
moment of silence, she turns
around and smiles at Lizzie,
“Alright Lizzie, looks like it’s
going to be only you and me on
the poster.”
Amber has pretty much decided
that she has no time or patience
to entertain his childishness
and unprofessionalism. She will
not allow him to affect the
integrity of her work.
She believes that he has no
power over her and that she is
in absolute control of their
pseudo relationship. Little does
she know; she is wrong. He has
successfully gained control over
her involuntary thoughts as she
begins to wonder where he is and
what is on his mind.
From a fresh and exciting lover,
he has turned into a highly
irritable
challenge
with
uncontrollable tantrums. From
being diplomatic and suave, he
has become intolerably rude with
violent inclination.
Feeling a little afraid of him,
her gut feeling is warning her
that trouble is brewing and she
must handle him cautiously.
Neyo is certainly not someone
that she should mess with. She
thinks she knows him but
truthfully, she doesn’t know the
slightest thing about him.
Ivan treads cautiously through
the maze of boxes in his living
room. Apparently, the strategy
of time limitation does not seem
to have any effect on Taylor.
Boxes are still unpacked and his
once immaculately neat condo is
now a mess. “Taylor?” he asks
for her softly to break the
silence. “It’s Friday, the
dinner party is tomorrow night.
Have you forgotten?”