The Only One Chapter 7

[Cynique]

The Only One Chapter 7

Carole Everly was puzzled.

Stumped.

Confused.

Despite how they had gotten off on the wrong foot during their only encounter, despite how he had since kept his distance, despite not knowing if he was available, despite all her past experiences with slippery boyfriends, despite what satisfactory companions she proclaimed her books to be, - after a week of trying to maintain her cool, she was hot for Troy Briggs and, against her better judgment, wanted to get next to him in the worst way.

She wasn’t sure why she was so taken with the elusive Mr. Briggs, or why she’d become totally preoccupied with trying to figure him out, but she did know that this was not how it was supposed to be! Her theory on how to fascinate a man had backfired, and a few minutes in the presence of her intended prey was all it had taken for the script to flip – for her to fall under his spell, leaving her mystified.

Had he been trying to conceal his interest by dissing her, or was she misinterpreting his choosing to join her at her table since, contrary to what he claimed, there were other empty seats in the cafeteria?

Was his making sure to nod at her when they ran into each other every morning anything other than a courteous gesture?

Did he actually seem to twitch as soon as he saw her?

Was she imagining his reluctance to look away when they made eye contact?

Did he, at least, - like her?

So much to wonder. So little to conclude. Except that maybe she needed to - think like a man…

Naturally, Wanda had to weigh in. She was convinced that Carole was just bored with her routine life. “Idle time is the playground of the devil”, she’d reminded, deciding that Troy Briggs, with his sly ways, was “a spawn of Satan!”

Carole was not in total disagreement. It was almost like she was possessed, and since there weren’t any exorcists around, authors, as usual, came to her rescue, serving as her priests, providing the sanctuary of their books.

Spending her lunch hour in the usual cafeteria setting, immersed in the sights and sounds and smells that surrounded her, munching on her turkey club sandwich, Carole turned to her latest library check-out, hoping to take her mind off her romantic dilemma. Just about to start another chapter of a Dan Brown thriller, she looked up as her pal Vanessa Reese breezed up.

“Hey, sweetie,” Vanessa grinned, all gap-toothed and glossy-lipped. “Still reading them books, huh? Surprised you ain’t switched to Kindle!”

“I’m thinking about it,” Carole said. “So how you doin? Long time no see.”

“With my crazy new schedule I now go to lunch at 11 o’clock. Cain’t stay but a minute. Just had to holler atcha and get your take on the new brotha in the house!”

“You mean - Troy Briggs?”

“Yes, lord!”

Carole shrugged. “What can I say? He’s fine, but –

“But what?”

“But, he’s - probably already taken.”

“Uh-uh. The other day in the ladies room, I overheard Debbie Marlowe telling someone how bored he told her he was, now that he’s divorced.”

Carole’s face fell. “Debbie Marlowe?”

“Goldilocks,” Vanessa snorted and rolled her eyes. “Gotta run. I’ll call ya later. We’ll talk.”

Watching her friend scurry away, Carole’s considered what she had just learned. The good news was the confirmation that Troy Briggs was unattached. The bad news was that it was Debbie Marlowe to whom he’d confirmed this. One more reason to wonder why she was stuck on Troy Briggs! Miffed, she half-heartedly turned back to her book.

“You have to be the - readingest woman I’ve ever seen,” someone else said 5 minutes later, and the person uttering these words took a seat across from Carole.

Staring at the page she had just turned, Carole’s ears took over, reacting to the voice that made a muffle of all the other talkers around her.

“Is there something wrong with reading?” she asked, and when she looked up and met the eyes of Troy Briggs, a warm flush spread over her.

“Nope,” Troy said. “They say it enriches the mind.”

“Is it something you like to do?” she asked, deciding not to tell him there was no such word as “readingest”.

“I had to do so much of it when I was enrolled in an accelerated program to get my degree, that I needed a break from books.” He took a sip of his coffee as he began to scope out the cafeteria. “But I’m gonna get back in the habit soon. Any recommendations?”

“What I’m reading now is interesting.”

“What’s it about?”

She thought fast, eager to sum the book up as briefly as possible before his attention strayed.

“The gist of it is - how solutions to problems can be right before our eyes if only we recognized silent messages.”

He squinted at her. “So, have you heard any good silent messages lately? “

She tilted her head. “From the way you’re gawking at my earrings, I’m sensing your - quiet disapproval.”

“Have all those holes in your lobes affected your hearing?”

“Just waiting for something worth listening to.”

“Try this. Your intuition sucks. I’ve expressed my doubts about your body-piercing loud and clear.”

“My body, per se, is not pierced.”

His wandering gaze came back to her and his stare fondled her. “No? Too bad. Every woman needs a good body piercing now and then – per se.”

“With your stabbing wit, that should be something you’re very good at,” she retorted and narrowed her eyes before realizing that, as her supervisor, he could make things hard for her, - the way he’d just made her nipples.

But he seemed amused rather than angry when he stood up. “I’ll never tell,” he winked, repeating the phrase that had brought their last session to a close.

Wondering why she had acquired a taste for arrogant bastards, she watched as he walked off, heading toward the table where Debbie Marlowe and her crowd were babbling away.

Her heart sank and she could’ve kicked herself for failing to see what was right before her eyes. Troy Briggs was toying with her, and she had been played!

That evening, seated at a table for 2 in a softly-lit lounge, Carole twiddled with the stem of the goblet that contained her apple martini. Having been bummed out by her latest cafeteria face-off with Troy Briggs, she was now feeling bubbly, and quite appreciative of this change of scene. Enjoying the company of another man was just what she needed to bolster her spirits, and she hummed along with the smooth jazz selection providing the atmosphere for the cozy little club where she’d agreed to meet Phillip Atkins for cocktails.

“Whatever led you to call me after all this time?” she asked her companion.

“I’m off today, and I just found myself thinking about you,” Phillip replied, “wondering how you were doing, hoping you were - OK.” He was a husky man, tall, dark and ruggedly handsome, his voice deep and soothing. “You know how crazy I was about you, Carole. You had the best - pillow talk in the world. You just had no - spirit of adventure.”

“Can I help it if a - menage a trois just wasn’t something I wanted to translate?” she asked, “especially since your choice for the third leg of the triangle was your other girlfriend!”

Phillip shrugged and took a swallow of his Jack Daniels. “What can I say, baby? When you’re a cop you see a lot of shit, you do a lot of shit.”

“Like taking pay-offs,” she kidded. “Looks like a designer suit you’re rockin.”

“Now that I’m outta uniform, I gotta look presentable.”

“How can you be a plain-clothes detective if you don’t wear plain clothes?”

He smirked. “I see your tongue is as sharp as ever. Just wish you’d - cut me a little bit of slack.”

“You ain’t never been satisfied with a little bit of nothin.”

“That’s cuz you have so much to offer, sweetheart.”

“Not enough to make you a one-woman-man,”

“Maybe I didn’t want to wear you out since - I couldn’t get enough of you.”

“Had to spread yourself around, huh?”

“Yeah, in the spirit of sharing.”

“Nobody could ever accuse you of not being generous.”

“Um-huh and I got a little something to give you right now.”

“Little?”

“OK, big,” he corrected, running his tongue over his lips.

“I know I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she teased, “but I don’t want to get bitten, and - I need to get going cuz this workin gal has to rise early.”

“Yeah, you need to head home before - it gets too late,” he chuckled, checking his watch and motioning for the waitress. “I’ll walk you to your car. You have to be very careful these days. There’s a rash of killings goin on out there, and all of the victims have been single, young black women. Just like you.”

Carole reached across and patted his wrist. “I appreciate your concern,” she said, and finished off her drink, sensing he had lost interest in wasting more time on her.

“Store my new number in your cell, and feel free to hit me up anytime,” he instructed, picking up her hand and squeezing it.

“I don’t make bootie calls,” she drawled.

“Have it your way,” he shrugged, his eyes lingering on the ample bosom of the frizzy-haired waitress who’d just appeared and served up a smile to Phillip.

“Better my way than yours,” Carole said, observing what was suddenly going on between the flirty waitress and one of “Chicago’s finest” playas.

Back home, safe in her solitude, Carole chased down 2 Tylenols with a glass of water, ready to call it a night. She’d had a busy day between sparring with Troy Briggs and schmoozing with Phillip Atkins. Phillip Atkins, who would always hold a special place in her heart, and she found herself thinking maybe a great way to arouse the spirit of adventure he accused her of not having, was to add him to her Troy Briggs equation. Maybe she could even throw Albert in for good measure and have - Fourplay. There did seem to be a hint of intimacy in his voice when he called a half hour ago to confirm their upcoming date. But then with him, it was hard to tell.

Drifting out of her boudoir, crossing over to her front room window, she parted the drapes slightly and stared out into the night world, Chicago after dark, a street scene where shadows concealed a male figure who, for the past hour, had been lurking in a storefront doorway, staring at her apartment building.

“Pleasant dreams, Carole,” the stranger murmured, groping himself, as the object of his surveillance became a silhouette behind the drapes that shielded her from his watchful eyes.

- to be continued -