Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Antonio comes into a sitting position, and the definition of his abdomen draws rigid. “Maybe you stay here. I’ll cook. I’m passionate about food...”
“Mhmmm, Antonio. You’re passionate, my ass. You’re insinuating that I can’t cook!”
“I’m not.”
“For someone with his head in his ass...” My words creep to a crawl, and I recall how my ex’s head fits perfectly somewhere the sun doesn’t shine. Suddenly, I feel woozy, reflecting how I am the other woman. “Follow me, now!”
With all the charisma I lacked, Antonio gets out of bed. As he follows me down the steps, I divert my eyes from his shaft—coasting side to side.
Each step I take is punctuated with hate. I stalk to the area dedicated to Antonio’s woman.
“This! All of this!” My stiff arms could be promising, spinning large, rectangular insurance signs on Beverly Hills Boulevard. “This is why we can’t be together.”
Brow lifted, he inquires, “Alexis?”
“Yes, you egotistical self—”
“Self-centered. Sí. Sí!”
“Two-timing bastard. I wanted this. Alexis deserves better!”
He’s blinking, and then his head slowly tilts while the perfect pair of eyebrows lift in unison. “My daughter is happier with her life than I am with mine, Essence. Aye, Aye... No-no-no-no-no. You thought!”
As he makes vomiting sounds, I hide a laugh behind my palms, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed by happy tears.
“She’s not your—”
“Essence! Guk!”
“There’s a bathroom down...” I call after Antonio as he launches up the stairs. “Here.”
Chuckling at myself, I pull the frozen chicken Alfredo from the foil container and place them on two plates. I chop a few asparagus spears, and voila. Lunch.
I hum, placing the plates onto a silver tray, when my cell rings.
“Mandy, damn,” I mutter the name of kind of friend you avoid when shit’s gone awry.
On cloud-nine, I answer Mandy’s no-filter-having ass. “Hey, girl.”
“Essence, why didn’t you tell me you had a showing the other night?”
Because you talk shit about the artists, and then you ask where’s my artwork. I bite my tongue momentarily, only to proceed with, “I had some fresh, new faces. Like when we were young.” How you like that petty shit, boo? Anyway, my fingers curl around two stemless wine glasses. “Actually, I have a muse.” Oh shuddup, Essence!
“Do tell?”
“Nope. You’ll see me at ladies’ night next month.” Because only once a month can I stand to be surrounded by my nearest and dearest friends while hating my life.
I hang up.
A few minutes later, I stroll upstairs, hearing the sound of rushing water. I place the food tray onto the floor near the bed, then grab a wine glass. I’ve just taken a sip of the Merlot; the chilled wine dribbles on my chin at the sight unfolding before me. A naked Antonio kneels before my all-black antique tub with silver clawfoot. He’s dropping the heads of lilies over the clouds of sudsy water.
My hands tremble with the thought of capturing this moment forever on canvas. The taut ridges of Antonio’s back. I’d memorialize the muscles in his ass that had assisted him in plowing through me earlier. The way his dark hair whispers over his shoulder makes my fingertips jittery for action.
You can’t paint, Essence. Not him. I glance toward the counter to my half-empty silver vase of a few droopy lilies. He took the best ones to add to the tub. Then, I’m glaring at an extra toothbrush in the chrome cup next to mine, and I don’t notice Antonio until the beast looms over me.
He must go. I clear my throat, urged by the notion that regardless of whether Antonio has a woman or not, I’m still set in my ways. I’m too old for a long-term entanglement. “We’re supposed to be eating, Antonio.” Feed him and kick him out, Essence!
“Aye, you and your calendar.”
“What calendar? Oh, you’re being sarcastic, Antonio. What makes you think my life revolves
around keeping time and order? You claimed to be starving.” So, let me feed you and send you along!
“First, you don’t slow down and enjoy the small things. Second, I am hungry. But anything worth eating takes time and passion for preparing, which really segues back to you being in a rush. Hence, a calendar to outline your life, metaphorically speaking.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Glad you can smell that because I don’t smell anything edible…” Antonio pauses to scent the air. “Well, except for you—actually, that’s bad. That sounds bad. You smell good.”
I laugh freely as a burly arm brings me flush with his body. “Damn you, Antonio. I see you needed the last word.”
“I did. But honestly, I could eat you all up.” He inhales my neck. “Now, you microwaved something, preciosa.”
“Just... reheated.” I push at his chest.
“Eat later.” Antonio’s hand caresses down my shoulder to clasp my own. He guides me to the romantic tub. “Now, I bathe you.”
Alright, Essence. You will survive the best night of your life. Bubbles tickle at my flesh as I’m helped into the bath. I expect Antonio to settle behind me, but he proves how large my tub is while submerging inside, and we sit face to face. The heated water competes with my internal temperature as I watch him run a wet hand over his chest. Bubbles glide over the taut area.