The Cowboy Who Strolled Into Town (13 page)

“There you go! I knew you had jokes in you somewhere; now get outta here so I can get some work done”

When she eased herself out and closed the door, Leander swore under his breath. He had not kept in touch with his family back at home, half as much as he could. It was not his fault, he told himself; he had not really grown with them but he knew this was a lie; he had been almost fourteen when he had relocated to the United States. He mused that the difference in background meant he could not relate very well with them; another lie.  The truth was he finally admitted, he was selfish, and really did not think he needed family at all. But this was against everything he had learned growing up as a kid. Where he was from, it bordered on deviant behavior, he thought acidly about himself. He could not explain his behavior but he consoled himself that it was thinking differently that had brought him this far and made him so wealthy.

But still, he stared apprehensively at the phone that lay on a solitary stool between the leather sofa and the liquor cabinet, at the far corner of the expansive corner office.

Chapter 3

Mary sat in the dark, in the old sofa to be found in the tiny, but functional sitting room in her home, and wondered for the umpteenth time why she was not out with someone nice or at the very least having fun all by herself-it’s a weekend for crying out loud she thought.

Andre had been gone for only a week, and she was already finding his absence unbearable. She knew it was just empty nest syndrome but still…

A lack of suitors was not the problem at all; beautiful, fully rounded, with full breasts, and a low lying, jeans-filling butt guaranteed to garner attention, she could easily have had the most active social life on the block; but she lacked the enthusiastic drive, she thought with dismay. As far as relationships were concerned she was a decided pessimist, and did not see any way that would change in the near future. All the men who came up to her where not able to see past the booty at her true self. What was it with men and ass? She mused in amusement. Maybe her standards were too high she thought.

Dressed only in her underwear in the dark sitting room, her nightgown laid out neatly on an easy chair, her soft, chocolate brown features were not at all visible in the darkness of the night. She suddenly made up her mind to sleep in the sofa, but not before switching on the telly, thinking that if she could not muster the energy to activate her social life, then she could at least watch others having fun. She zapped straight to the entertainment channel.

****

A few hours later, Mary was awoken by a persistent knocking on the door. Highly irritated and drowsy, she almost forgot to grab her, still folded, nightgown off the easy chair before stumbling sleepily, through the living room, to the door.

She looked through the spyglass to see who could possibly be at the door at this hour of the night. She was certainly wary of guests who came in this late in the night; this was not a very safe neighborhood, especially with Andre no longer around.

She was ready to berate anybody she saw on the other side of the door, and she shook her head when she finally was able to see a white, blonde, Caucasian male, barely able to hang on to the doorknob on the other end.

He knocked again; a little bit more insistent this time. She thought she heard him mumble something like “anytime now…”, but she could not be sure what had been conjured up off that drunken brain on the other end. She hesitated but for a moment, and on hind sight, she was not sure whether it was because of her recent bouts of loneliness or because of the fact that similar scenes had been acted out by her own father, who had been an inveterate drunk, which aroused feelings of empathy, but she opened the door and stood aside.

A very drunk, very disheveled and very grateful Leander Kolarov stumbled through the doorway, and fell into an untidy heap on the floor.

****

Leander had been a late entry into the family, and had been quite a surprise for his parents who had not been expecting him at all. By the time he was born, he already had two older siblings, Angelina, who was sixteen at the time, and a novice trying to enter a cloistered convent, and Vitaliy, who was fourteen. Six years later, a bump on a slippery road led to a car crash that orphaned them all.

Vitaliy, in his senior year at the University had had to drop out to take care of his six-year old younger brother. His older sister, who was already a cloistered nun, would not be a problem. He had taken over the family business which by then consisted of a convenience store and had dug deep to keep things afloat. Leander could remember that during his elementary school years his afternoons had been spent reading comics in the family store where Vitaliy could keep an eye on him, and at the same time run the shop. Leander was aware that Vitaliy had carved out a nice middle class existence for himself and his own and of that he was proud. He was also ashamed, for he had barely kept in touch in the past few years.

Leander had thought about all this when he had heard of Vitaliy’s imminent arrival and had decided to reach out. The phone call had bordered on disaster from the get-go: Firstly, Leander realized, with dismay, but not much surprise that his Russian was faltering. His good-natured brother, who was excited by the call after such a long hiatus kept leaving him behind in dialogue, much to his amusement and Leander’s embarrassment. On top of that, Leander did not even know young Vitaliy’s age; he could have sworn that it was ten, but it turned out the boy was fourteen. Further along, he had hoped to make up for all these shortcomings using the only method he could possibly think of-he had offered his brother money. Vitaliy sr. had not been offended before, but he was offended now; he had not asked for a handout. Leander had apologized, cursing himself for forgetting how much self-esteem his brother had for himself. He apologized again as his brother reminded him of how comfortable he was business wise. Leander would not be put off in his fool hardy pursuit to show how much of a family man he could be, so before he could stop himself, he offered to take young Vitaliy for a year, and not just the holidays. This obviously pleased Vitaliy sr. and the phone call had ended on a high note, despite the sinking feeling in Leander’s belly.

The call had gone better than he had hoped and he was not going to let the fact he had no experience with kids spoil his joy. Throughout the week however, the feeling of apprehension slowly won over that of elation: who are you trying to kid he asked himself-you’re terrified of children!

“Come on how had can it be to house a fourteen year old?” the beautiful Layla, had asked him teasingly two days later.

“Kids need stability, and structure, and discipline and also time.” Leander had said, martini in hand, “All the things I can’t give!”

Layla had laughed at this “The house looking like fashion week as model after model sidles in and out ah-a teenager’s heaven; you better not mess this up! Or Vitaliy sr. is going to be mad at you!”

He had taken another swig of his martini as she had laughed in the background, “I can do this-I mean I run a 9 billion dollar empire how hard can a fourteen year old kid be to handle?”

To this Layla, who had a teenager of her own, had sniggered, “You have no idea”

The self-doubts had pursued Leander right to the card table the next day, and true to expectations, had translated itself into a very bad game; He had lost almost every hand, to the obvious amusement of his card buddies. In a final show of bravado he had bet his car, believing if he upped the stakes he could up his game. Not long after, he had been left only with the martini at hand. The dealer gave him the bottle.

Too proud to accept a ride even from Alexander Yashin, he had set off towards the bus station.

Presently, Leander lay silent in Mary’s bathtub, listening to Mary put away his dirty clothes. He found the warm bath she had drawn for him highly therapeutic, clearing his head, and easing his tensed up muscles. He had been in there for the better part of thirty minutes now, and needless to say, he was still in the bath as much for his embarrassment as he was there for his need.

He had been sure he was been followed, but now on hindsight, he was not so sure. It could have easily been alley cats or his shadow. He had heard a noise and he had run like hell. Now after the fright came the embarrassment. He had run from shadows straight to a stranger’s house, at 2a.m in the morning!

“New towel for you” Mary announced, opening the door just for a tiny bit, and tossed something in.

Leander sank deeper in the tub, the smooth soapy water sloshing over his tipsy frame, and he wishing that these were waves of the ocean about to swallow him and put his cowardly frame out of its misery.

Mary on her part was undecided about her motives for helping this random stranger. As she went about being as good a Samaritan as she could possibly be that night, she could not silence the loud voice in her head which screamed for the umpteenth time, “What is wrong with you?”

A few minutes later, Leander emerged, casting an uneasy figure, holding the new, but rather short towel about his waist. Mary was reassured by his embarrassment; it meant he was a regular guy more or less, because regular guys did not find themselves in this kind of situations. The short, barely adequate towel which he had to hold about his slim waist was partly a precaution that would ensure her a precious few seconds to reach the door if he turned out to be dangerous.

Mary had to admit to herself, however, that precaution was not the only raison d’etre for the towel. Her lonely self after taking one look at Leander’s fine –featured face had succumbed to a very naughty part of her that was becoming less and less easy to control had cooked up the idea of the skimpy towel to see if he had the body to go with that face. Now as Mary took in Leander’s fine chisel chest over his deliciously toned abs, a wave of desired washed over her, hotter than the bath she had prepared for him. As she pretended to be busy in the dim light of the house, she inwardly marveled at the physical perfection of the man, and wondered what it would feel like to be trapped in a loving embrace by such finely formed arms.

“Uh-thanks” Leander said, catching the amused look in her eye even in the dim lighting of the room he now stood in. He was inwardly grateful that nature had given him a relatively strong make up, and he had not thrown up on the floor or anything like that given the amount of alcohol he had downed on his “way” here. He observed the rather large woman, full breasted woman walking about in the bedroom before him with only a scanty silk nightgown on. She did not seem like the one to be pushed around, much less clean up after a random stranger.

“There is a hot plate in the kitchen to help absorb some of that alcohol for you if you would like” she said to him, forming a silhouette between the door posts. The light gave a clear picture of her voluptuous outline in the night gown.

It all seemed so unreal to him or was it she who seemed unreal, standing in the doorway like that all angel like. Leander felt an excited tingle grow from his head and all the way to the pit of his stomach, and he turned away to hide the growing bulge underneath the towel she had given him.

“Yes, I would like that very much.” He mumbled.

Mary did not know that butts came in such perfect shapes and sizes and she had to literally drag herself away from the door post and the titillating view of his firm posterior.

“Pull yourself together,” Mary hissed at herself as she went to the kitchen, “I can barely recognize this excited schoolgirl persona you are putting on right now I swear”

A delicious aroma filled the entire kitchen, and Leander needed no directions to find the source. He took a deep breathe just before entering. If it had seemed unreal before, all of a sudden it felt or scented pleasantly real now.

They both avoided each other’s eyes at the small, round kitchen table, Mary not eating and Leander picking gingerly through the food, aware that she was watching him.

“Excuse me asking, but you are new around here aren’t you?” Mary asked, finally breaking the uneasy silence.

“Yes,” Leander replied, “I literally just arrived.”

Mary smiled at his pun, “cus I ain’t seen you around before” she thought there was something awfully familiar about him but she could not put her finger on it. The blue azure eyes perfectly set in his sculpted face was certainly something any woman would remember. Perhaps he was some sort of spy she thought playfully, come to save her from her distress, but she was in no obvious danger except the danger of falling head over heels in lust with a perfect stranger. She thought not to ask him, knowing he would reveal himself, if at all when he was ready.

Leander, on his part, felt his head getting clearer, and was grateful for the meal. It was just delicious enough to keep him from staring at her partly exposed cleavage which he could see were quite innocently put before him. Now that the ever increasing bulge in the pants that she had given him was safely hidden under the table, he was scared that his rising temperature borne of the hormones raging in his body would give him away. He wondered if human beings could sense such things, and he decided that was possible only if they were close; real close, which was right where he wanted this strange, kind, chocolate brown woman who was effortless more sexy than most women were on purpose. He decided to ingratiate himself.

“You have a beautiful home.” he said, trying to smile and at the same time avoid staring.

“No I don’t” Mary said giggling slightly, “but thank you for the remark”

Leander giggled as well knowing that he had been caught out. She was confident, he realized, and funny. She had already shown how brave she could be by letting him in. He wondered what she was doing in a place like this. The ladies he knew who were like her were video vixens, making a living or a nuisance of themselves by invading men’s fantasies.

He felt a little bit more relaxed, but the meal was almost at an end and Leander was sure he was going to get found out for the lecherous fiend he was. He kept his head down like a good little boy as she, to his surprise, cleared his plates. However he did not cheat himself out of an eyeful of her perfectly formed back which started rounded at the shoulders but curved exquisitely inwards to her waist and then sharply outwards to begin formation of the most sublime of butts. The languid manner in which her silver, silk nightgown lay over her voluptuous frame, ending halfway along her smooth rounded thighs gave an added seductive touch to the situation, and Leander was aware again of that sensation of the unreal. He wondered if his forebears when not punishing him with some ultra-real illusion for switching from Good Ol’ Russian Vodka to American Martinis, and he half expected to wake up beside a dumpster in some back alley somewhere, with a homeless guy urinating on his head.