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Chapter Nine

Dereck

S he didn’t come. Miranda didn’t come to her own mother’s funeral. I thought that she would at least show up. As the priest sprinkle the grave with holy water praying for her soul to enter heaven, my eyes search for Miranda. The screams of my son pull me away from my search. My son is inconsolable. I didn’t know that he had such a close relationship with Miranda’s mother. When I think about it, there is a lot that I don’t know about the boy.

Ilyana pulls up the veil of her fascinator, bending her head she whispers something in his ear, all the while pinching his knee with her gloved hands. She pushes my son’s shoulder, demanding he stops crying. He heaves and slips off the chair and begins to run, past the gravestone.

I try my best to leap after him, but the boy was fast. Further and further away my son runs, I could only see the back of his head.

Then he was gone. My heart skips a beat, where was my son? I shout his name getting lost between the huge tombstones. I stop in my tracks, and I see him on the stairs of a mausoleum. His inky black hair shines under the midday sun.

“Son,” I said cautiously as I approach him.

“Papa?” His head rises and for the first time I realized at the age of 8 he looks just like me. When did that happen? I sit on the stairs of the mausoleum, and I pull him into my lap tucking his head under my chin.

His shoulders shake, as he cries, “Do you think Ms. Stewart is going to heaven?”

I smile at the question because neither his mother nor I am churchgoers, but Ms. Stewart taught him about “The Lord.”

“I think she is son,” I reply kissing the top of his head. He smells of grass and sweat.

“That’s good, Papa,” he says as his tears soak into my shirt.

He pulls away and wipes his snotty nose with the back of his hand.

“Papa?”

I didn’t realize how much I enjoy my son calling me papa. For some reason it brings me hope and joy.

“Yes, son.”

“Are you leaving for work again? Mom cries and she is mean to me each time you go.”

This information surprised me. Ilyana is being mean…to my boy.

“What you mean by mean?” I ask. Feeling guilty that my child was not being protected and love because I’m away.

“She pinches me and tells me that you leave because you don’t love us. Is that true papa?” His dark grey gaze holds mine. All his innocence and wanting shines through.

I touch his face, wiping away his stray tears. “I love you more than life itself son.”

With a force he throws his hands around my neck and squeezes me tightly.

“I love you, Papa,” my son whispers. For the first time I was willing to say those words to someone other than Miranda.

“I love you too son. I love you too.”

* * *

PENNY

“Oh shit, Tarek, I’m coming.” My head snaps against the door of my office. A sharp jolt of pain flashes through my scalp, I couldn't care less about the pain. My orgasm is building, and every part of my body is tightening.

Tarek mouth is on my neck, his arms are anchoring me, his fingers are digging into my ass, my legs are around his waist. All the while Tarek is pistoning into my body. His rhythm is relentless; each thrust is pulling me closer to the edge.

My hands grip his shoulders, then I slide them to his neck, pulling him closer. I need him closer.

Tarek lifts his head, pressing his forehead to mine, and then he smiles, and my heart skips a beat. He smiles, and it’s one of those genuine, joyful smiles that melts parts of me that I didn’t know was frozen.

A rush of emotion washes over me. I cup his face into my hand, and I kiss him. Putting all my emotions behind that kiss, the things that I would love to say, but I can’t. He groans like he is enjoying the taste of me. As he sucks gently on my tongue, I dig my nails into his hair as my pussy clenches on his dick. I break the kiss, holding his face as I become lost in his gaze. His grey eyes are alive, I can see the hint of green in them. I feel my soul is being sucked in, it’s like we are forming a connection.

“Fuck,” he grunts. He closes his eyes; his mouth finds mine again. This time the kiss is urgent and unyielding.

“Come on my cock, Treasure,” he whispers against my lips, his breath is hot, his words are rough and low. “Make this cock yours, because it fucking is,” he murmurs into my open panting mouth. His words grip my soul and before I could stop myself an orgasm hits from my spine, then it radiates through my body. Shattering me from the inside out.

“Shit, Tarek,”

“Atta girl. Fuck, fuckkkkk you, Penny,” His hips slap against mine as he presses deeper. His body shudders as he lets go.

His hands hold me tight while he stills for a few seconds. Both of us trying to catch our breath. Finally, he slips out of me and heads to my office bathroom, leaving me breathless. With wobbly legs I shuffle to my desk clinging to the edge, trying to regain some self-control.

I am startled by a cold cloth that is pressed against my vagina.

I turn to see Tarek on his knees wiping away the remnants of our escapade.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,”

“It’s okay.”

He takes some minutes to clean me up and put our clothes back on. No one is talking. That felt different. We have been at it for a couple of weeks now. We have had sex mostly at my home, or in his office at the restaurant. Now for the first time we are having sex at my office. Thankfully no one is here since I decided to work late tonight.

Why did he have to smile? Like he was having fun?

Tarek comes out the bathroom rolling up his shirt sleeves, he sees my face. “What?”

“Why did you smile?”

His eyebrows crinkle. “When did I smile?”

“When you were fucking me? Why did you smile?” I didn’t need to use the f-word, but I needed to make it sound crass. A smile means emotions and we are not having emotions.

“If I smile while I was having sex with you. It was because it’s awesome and I was enjoying it.” He says it so easily like it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe I’m overreacting.

I didn’t reply, because I was overthinking his smile and what it could mean.

“You’re not enjoying it? Did I hurt you?” I can hear concern echoing his words. He pauses at his belt.

“I am enjoying it. The smile just threw me off.”

“So, my smile is ugly. I promise not to smile at you again.” Tarek walks up to me and pulls me slowly in his arms.

Without hesitation I find myself melting in his chest.

“I’m being dramatic. Of course, you can smile,” I say as I place my face flush against his light blue shirt.

Tareks makes small circles on my back, creating a warm comforting touch. “I will promise never to smile again when I am in you. I will keep a serious face.”

I chuckle inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne. “You’re so silly.”

He presses a kiss on my forehead and pulls away.

“Are you leaving now?”

“No, I am staying to finish work. Then I will go home.” My mind is nudging me to ask him to wait, to stay until I am finished. I hold back.

Tarek throws his black blazer over his forearm. “I will see you at the next ding.”

“At the next ding,” I reply.

With a small salute Tarek leaves the office. As the door closes, it feels like he has taken all the joy with him. My office feels large, hollow, empty.

I am tempted to call him back and tell him to stay. But I can’t, it crosses a boundary that we both agreed to maintain.

For the next hour I sit behind the computer, finishing off some coding, signing a few contracts. My stomach growls, reminding me that I need to eat. I had a tuna sandwich for lunch, and several cups of decaffeinated coffee.

Sighing, I close my laptop and drag my bag over my shoulders. My digital clock shows 10:30 p.m. Shit, I didn’t realize it’s that late. Maybe KFC might be open or at 7’11 I can pick up a tv dinner. I wish that I told Tarek to stay, maybe he could have cooked me up something. The elevator doors open, and I step in. If he had stayed, we could have cooked steak or soup and hang out.

The door opens, and I pick up my phone. Walking past the guard, I give him a small wave.

“Fuck it.” I dial Tarek’s number, just as I exit the glass doors. The humidity is thick in the air.

His phone is ringing, but he doesn’t answer. I can hear a phone close by. I follow the sound of the phone, only to reveal Tarek, rising off the stairs, dusting his pants off while answering the phone.

“Hi,” I say, trying to hold back a smile.

“Hi,” he replies as his eyes finally meet mine.

“You waited.” That’s all I could say.

“Well, Marco has the kitchen under control, and I didn’t want to go to Nowhere. So, I waited.” He hangs up the phone and places it in his pocket.

Without hesitation, he takes my jacket and bag from my hand. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved. Do you know a place?” I ask.

With little effort, he pulls me to his chest and kisses my forehead.

“I do. You can leave your car here.”

We slowly walk to the car. My handbag and jacket are hanging on his shoulders.

His warm hand holds mine. It feels so right, and it frightens me more than any relationship that I ever had.

There is a comfort watching him buckle me in, treating me like I was precious, like I was a treasure.

* * *

TAREK

I have always been a man to do what I wanted. I didn’t want to go to work at the Glass House, I didn’t want to go to Nowhere. I wanted to wait in Penny’s office, while she finished her work.

I wanted to stay and wait for her, so I did and from the look of relief on her face, I’m glad I did. She was calling for me, not the other way around. Unlike our first time, she picked up the phone because she needed me and not for a ding, but just my presence.

We drove in silence like neither one of us want to break whatever it is that was happening. It takes me twenty minutes to get to my favorite after work spot.

“It’s a gas station? Tarek?” Penny comments.

“Behind the gas station is where the magic happens.”

Pablo’s Taco has the best tacos in Lakeshore.

“Oh, the food smells divine,” Penny comments as she exits the car.

“It should be, Pablo was once one of my sous chefs.” I extend my hand to her and with ease she takes it.

“This is amazing.” Penny’s shoulders begin to move as she hears the music pouring out the food truck.

The place is alive, people are in line waiting to order. Some men stand in what looks like their work clothes, there is a friendly banter between them. There is a beautiful mix of English and Spanish being spoken with the occasional burst of laughter.

The warm, savory aroma of well-seasoned meats cooking, with hints of roasted corn and the occasional whiff of gasoline, greets me.

“This is amazing,” Penny says as she bends to read the chalk board. Some of the words have been erased most likely from people pointing and touching the board.

Penny taps her lips. “What should I get?”

“You trust me?” I ask, the question sounds more loaded than I meant it to be.

She stops, and holds my gaze. “I am beginning to.”

Before I can answer I hear a sweet old voice. “Ese es mi bebe, Tarek?”

With Penny’s hand still in mine, I bend to hug Pablo’s abuela. “Abuelita, Como estas?”

She holds my face in her hands, her silver hair is wrapped in a traditional bun, she has hints of laugh lines around her eyes and cheeks. I close my eyes enjoying the warmth of her hands. I fix the rebozo on her shoulders.

“Estoy bien, ” Abuelita replies, she drops her hands from my face and peeps around at Penny.

Shyly Penny gives her a small wave.

Abuelita places her hand over her mouth and squeals. “Mi nino finalmente se ha convertido en un hombre. Me trajo a una chica para concer .”

I smile at Abuelita. “Si.”

Abuelita cups Penny’s face. “Y es tan bonita. Ay, los bebes que tendras Tarek.” (And she is so pretty. Oh, the babies you will have, Tarek.)

Penny hugs Abuelita. “Nice to meet you. I am Penny.”

Abuelita holds her hand and rubs it. “Penny. Es tas bonita, Tarek. Has visto a Pablo? Ve a ponerte en la fila.”

Abuelita moves on to her next person giving me a soft squeeze before she leaves.

“You speak Spanish so well. What did she say?” Penny asks.

“She is happy to see us.” I didn’t bother to tell her the truth, she was already more spooked than she needed to be.

“All those words and she is just happy to see us?” Penny asked.

“And she finds you pretty,” I add.

“I think I might just love Abuelita,” Penny replies.

We stand in the line until we finally reach the front.

Pablo catches my eye and as is the norm he reaches out the opening. “Chef? Que le puedo ofrecer?” (Chef, what can I offer you.)

Pablo wiggles his eyebrows at me, like his grandmother he knows I have never brought a girl here. At first, I thought nothing of it, but after Abuelita gave us her blessings, part of me feels a level of comfort.

“Dos agua frescas de melon, dos tamales de Puerco, y cuatro birrias con el consome de birria , (Two melons agua frecas, two pork tamales and four birrias with a birria consomme’)” I reply.

Pablo nods and gives me the thumbs up.

“Tienes a una buena aqui,” Pablo says. When he realized she didn’t understand Spanish he simply says, “You have a good one there.”

After I pay, Penny sits on the alone chair, and I sit on the pavement right below her.

Her shoulders shake as she moves to the beat of music pouring out of the truck. Penny has the gift of fitting right in. I think if I was truthful, I brought her here hoping that Abuelita would find a small fault. Instead, she loved Penny. She was perfect and a small panic bubbled up inside of me. What the fuck do I do with the perfect girl?

“You good?” I ask, trying to calm my mind.

She laughs. “Yes.” Her fingers brush the side of my neck. “That hickey is huge. Who gave that to you?”

I laugh because I know the one I left on her chest is bigger. “A vampire. I returned the favor.”

Penny pulls at her shirt to cover the top of her chest. It’s a new habit I picked up, every time we have sex I feel a need to mark her. To let people know that she was with someone and that someone was me.

“The fuck?” I whisper to myself.

“Huh?” she says.

“Nothing, I just remembered something,” I reply. A small crowd of customers begin to dance to what I think is Maluma.

Penny’s foot begins to tap, and she claps along as the crowd begins to move.

I stand, dust my hands off on my pants, and I stretch my palm out to her. “Let’s dance.”

Penny pulls back in surprise. “You can dance?”

“There is only one way to find out.”

With a wide smile she places her hand in mine.

* * *

PENNY

I don’t understand much Spanish, but what I gathered is that granny thought that I was pretty, and Tarek was her baby. I know there was more to the conversation. Tarek is becoming a man of many secrets. He is a chef, a loyal friend, an adopted grandson to Abuelita, and a dancer.

I thought he would have mashed my feet by now or he would only know one step. I was sadly mistaken. He tossed and turned me, keeping me on the beat. His hands guided me with each beat. As he twirls me, I can’t help but smile as his hands settle on my butt and his legs is between mine. It’s like we are doing the lambada. My waist hits all the accents. Everything about Tarek is sexy and intoxicating and dangerous.

As the music comes to an end everyone claps because we are all having a great time.

Pablo calls Tarek’s order.

At 12:00am in the morning I laughed, danced, and now I am sitting on the pavement with a handsome man having a spicy birria and an Aqua Fresca. I would never think this would be a perfect night, but to me it was.

After saying good night to Pablo and promising Abuelita to return, Tarek drives to my house. Without a word he parks in front of my house and we both exit the car.

He takes my house keys out of my hand and presses into the lock opening the door. I step inside looking back I expect Tarek to follow.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

Tarek dips his hands in his pockets and sighs. “Tell me to go.”

That took me off guard. “You don’t want to stay.”

He kicks the threshold of the door lightly. “Tell me to go.”

“You don’t wanna stay, there are clothes you can use.”

“Penelope.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening?” I feel like I am floating in confusion.

Tarek bends his head and shakes it. “Tell me to go.” His voice was a mere whisper. He sounded like he was in pain.

I thought that after a great night like this he wouldn’t want it to end, I guess I was wrong.

“Um, you can go.”

“Good night.” He closes the door behind him. I hear his tires screech, and I am stuck standing in the middle of my living room. What the hell just happened?

* * *