I danced my way through the streets of Manhattan. Somewhere in my head Frank Sinatra was singing "Lover" with the most upbeat rhythm, making me want to sway and slide like a professional ballroom dancer. I didn't even know I had it in me. I hippidy-hopped through my way, not really sure where I was going. My happiness was contagious, though. People looked and laughed at and with me like I was high on something. I really was high; I was on cloud nine.
I wasn't sure what had come over me. The spell I was under made me oblivious to my surroundings. The only scene between my eyelids was that of Genevieve and her gorgeous smile, and the only sound I could hear was that of her melodious voice. I could almost picture the both of us dancing our way through New York, performing our very own Broadway Musical. Nothing else mattered at that moment than the image of her and the opportunity that magically crossed my path in a destiny defining moment.
Everything else was obsolete.
I've never felt that way before about anyone, not even Claire.
Claire Gilbert.
I had totally forgotten about her.
What was I doing?
How in the world will I ever justify the way I feel about Genevieve to Claire?
She would have my head on a stick and walk around parading it in front of everyone as an example to who ever considered crossing her. She could easily turn my bones to dust and my blood to crude oil. I wouldn't be able to handle her wrath. How the hell was I going to get myself out of this mess? Just the thought of the look on her face when she found out about this sickened me.
I decided to halt for a minute and think things through. The only thing going between me and Genevieve was that of an employer-employee relationship. There was nothing more to it. I had to keep reminding myself that all and every other fantasy I had simply existed inside my head. There was no way that this mystical fantasy of mine could ever evolve to anything more. I was engaged and Genevieve was way out of my league.
I will only be working for her – that's it!
I also wouldn't mind working on top of her or below her or...
Stop it, Killian!
My thoughts had a mind of their own. Somehow imagining Genevieve in sexy, leather, black lingerie with a high heels and a leather whip wasn't all that hard to do. She was like every guy's fantasy brought to life. I bet men drool over her all the time. I knew I did the moment I caught glimpse of her. How could one person do so much in so little time?
There was something in her office though that screamed sexual tension. There was something in her eyes that called out to me somehow, I just couldn't quite tell what it was. Did she feel something too and was trying her best not to show it? She did seem to have tiny moment of relapses from time to time. A part of me wanted to think that she wanted me to kiss her too. Kiss her, among other stuff. Maybe rub that sweet behind a little bit before I spanked the hell out of it.
I was going way out of control. The only thing that would distract me from these racy thoughts were taking pictures. Luckily, I had my camera on me, so I took it out and started taking pictures of nature for a change. The way the sun played on the trees was particularly intriguing this morning, and the shadows they made on the pavement left me wondering.
There were two pigeons standing on the roof of a cab who seemed to be quarreling about something. They were fluttering their wings aggressively at each other and were making unfathomable cooing noises. I snapped about half a dozen pictures or so of them. They were really going at it for about two minutes before one of them looked heavily defeated and decided to give up and flew away. The second followed a few moments later, but in a different direction. None of them looked back at the emptiness they left behind.
I stared at where they once stood, and wondered if there was a lesson behind the quarrel I just witnessed. It was a scary thought; how a two-minute argument could end everything between two beings, human or otherwise. I felt a chill run down my spine as I looked at the pictures in my camera again. I think this ought to be the saddest set of pictures I've ever taken.
I decided that I needed to talk to David, so I called him up and asked him to meet me at Alidoro's. I was in dire need for a Pinocchio. I binge on Italian subs when I'm nervous. And Genevieve Fernandez didn't only make me nervous, she made me want to jump off a plane or jump in front of a wrecking ball.
I arrived there before him and ordered us the sandwiches. I was on my third sub before David showed up. All these racy thoughts about Genevieve really had me working up an appetite.
'I don't know, man. I don't think you taking this job is a good idea', David voiced his concerns after I narrated what happened this morning.
'Why not?', I almost chocked.
'It just sounds like you're going around looking for trouble.'
'Trouble?', I raised an eyebrow.
'Dude, you are literally a doorstep away from marrying Claire. You don't need a woman like Genevieve in your life to mess things up in your head. You've got a good thing going on for you with Claire. Don't fuck that up over a fantasy that is most likely never going to happen.'
His words infuriated me, mostly because they were true, but I had to remain cool about it. He was simply being the voice of reason that I clearly lost somewhere along the way. That or I was still drunk from last night and the alcohol was still impairing my judgment. Or maybe it was none of that and I was just really into Genevieve. I couldn't quite tell anymore.
'I admit, Genevieve... entices me, a lot, but there's more to it than just that. I really believe she could help me sell big in this gallery. People would literally spill blood to get their hands on her picture', I somehow lied.
I knew that pictures of her would sell like test papers before finals. She would be the grand masterpiece that would mark my career. I wasn't taking pictures of her only for the gallery, however. A part of me enjoyed the fact that I would be following her around with my camera. I might even keep a picture or two for my personal collection. I definitely was looking forward to getting to know Genevieve a little more intimately.
'And Claire is okay with all of that?', he asked after he swallowed the remnants of his sandwich.
'Claire doesn't exactly know the terms of this gig, yet.'
He chuckled.
That chuckle said it all. There was a silent judgment behind it, and he was right. Claire would be extremely suspicious if she knew the terms of this "new gig".
'I'll tell her about it', I said more to myself than to him.
'Right', he said sarcastically.
'I have nothing to hide', I pushed the case further.
'You don't have to tell me', his tone was that of mockery.
'You're a lousy friend', I whined like an eight-year-old.
'And you're going to get yourself into some deep, deep shit Killian Rhodes', a voice came from behind me.
I turned around to face this eavesdropper.
It was Claire.
Her face was red with fury.