St.Augustine’s…
“While my time here has been short, only a couple of years, I can honestly say that this has been one of the most rewarding experiences in my still nascent artistic career and creative life,” Mr Valcourt announced to St. Augustine’s and its graduating class.
Willow sat amongst her classmates in her graduation robe looking up at her art teacher on the stage as he delivered his farewell speech to the students and their families in attendance. There had been a murmur of surprise among the students when he announced he was leaving, planning to travel abroad for a few years for personal study. She just stared at him, unmoved as if in a trance.
“To my students,” he said, levelling his gaze like a sweeping net over them, “you have touched and inspired me in ways I can’t describe in words, but perhaps one day in my art. I can only hope I have done the same for you, and I look forward to seeing you capture the world with your creativity and spark. It has been an honour to watch you young women blossom and grow like the beautiful lilies that you are.”
A titter of giggles rippled amongst the class. Willow pinched the inside of her lower lip with her teeth, nearly breaking the skin, trying to keep her restless mouth shut.
“Hopefully, when I return home in a few years, I’ll be fortunate enough to meet some of you again. However, be assured I will never forget any of you,” he said. Then he revealed that sly yet captivating, boyish grin of his one last time, adding, “And I hope at least some of you don’t forget me.”
With that, a round of applause filled the auditorium. Someone even shouted, “We love you, Justin!” followed by laughter and chatter.
Willow simply lowered her head and closed her eyes, concentrating on her breaths.
“Thank you. So, without further delay,” Mr Valcourt declared, “I have the privilege of announcing this year’s St. Augustine’s Creative Arts Award recipient… Miss Willow McCarthy.”
A nudge at her shoulder by a classmate stirred her from her moment of reflection. She looked up, blinking, the sound of clapping crackling at her ears. As she stood, she felt a numbness in her legs and she glanced around in a bit of daze finally glimpsing her parents and Faith in the back applauding with everyone else.
“Anytime now, Willow,” Mr Valcourt called jokingly from the podium with a rousing smile. “Don’t keep me waiting for you like in class.. please.”
She managed to skirt through the row of seated classmates and remembered to raise her robe as she made her way up the stairs and onto the stage. As she approached Mr Valcourt while he waited for her by the podium, it felt more like she was being pulled towards him rather than her walking.
Her expression was blank, definitely not the look of someone receiving a prize of recognition, but she couldn’t muster any feeling in her face other than the warm sensation of blood blushing her cheeks and neck. As he took her hand firmly in his and shook her arm as if it were a limp rope, she realized that this was the first physical contact they had made since that moment alone in the studio.
He continued to hold her hand, moving her around as he handed her a scroll of paper and turned her to face the photographer. She wasn’t prepared at all when he pulled her in close for an embrace, her eyes widening.
It was brief, but she instantly felt his warm body against her chest, his strong hand press tightly against her back, holding her, reminding her of the man’s grip upon her. She inhaled, taking in his scent and essence. And, as he slowly drew back, she heard him whisper at her ear, “I’ll be in the studio alone after. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Willow’s mouth slipped open, feeling a sudden kick at her heart.
Mr Valcourt, smiling and winking at the audience, led her to the steps and gave her a little push to encourage her to leave the stage.
The rest of the ceremony was a murky mess, endless words garbled in Willow’s disconnected mind as if she were hearing them while sinking underwater. She clutched at the scroll of paper he had given her, crumpling it in her fist.
During the post-graduation reception in the field outside the school, while families and faculty had some finger food and drinks, took pictures and mingled, Willow scanned the area completely distracted. Faith had gone off to chat with some former classmates while her parents were gathered amongst a group talking with Father Alexander, the school’s principal, and a few teachers.
She spotted Mr Valcourt at the edge of the field and her breath stopped. He was looking right at her when he smiled and nodded. Then he turned away and casually walked back to the school, hands in his pockets.
Once more, Willow felt the pull at her chest, and a moment later, she followed him, moving through the crowded field, slipping past the bodies like an invisible breeze.
She entered the empty stairwell and stopped at the bottom step, gripping the handrail, as she looked up. She suddenly couldn’t move, feeling on the conflict of her own unsteady breathing, pushing her forward, pushing her back. Closing her eyes, she shook her head.
She had almost made it, escaping the school and him. It felt almost cruel what he was doing to her now, making her want so much to be with him, to feel him touch her.
Willow took one step up.
That’s when she heard the steps coming from above, the steady tap of leather shoes echoing through the stairwell. At the top of the stairs, she saw him appear. Mr Valcourt. Justin.
“Hi, Willow,” he said, not a hint of the tension in the air heard in his voice. He stood there in complete ease as he looked down at her, hands in his pockets, smiling. “Congratulations.”
She couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or mocking. She didn’t care. She took another hesitant step up.
“Still holding the prize?” he noted, looking pleased as he nodded at the scroll he had given her.
“I… I didn’t want this,” she said.
He shook his head. “I’ve seen your drawings, Willow. I know what you want. I know you.”
The way he spoke just shattered her will, feeling exposed and raw.
“There was never any doubt, Willow.”
He kept repeating her name with tempting admiration, casting it towards her like a fishing line.
Another step up.
“I wanted to make sure you didn’t forget me,” he said, his charming smile angling a bit more sharply.
Willow couldn’t tell if it was the sheer churning of her gut and tingling skin that moved her limbs as she climbed the stairs. Her eyes were tethered to his. She wet her dry lips as wispy streams of breath escaped her throat. Nerves racing beneath her graduation robe, she felt a blooming warmth upon her breasts and between her thighs.
He wasn’t even speaking, yet she heard him calling clearly to her.
“Willow!”
That wasn’t Justin.
She stopped suddenly, halfway up the stairs, and blinked, stuck in her stupor.
“Hi, Faith,” Justin said, tilting his head aside and looking over Willow’s shoulder. “Nice to see you again.”
She turned around, finally noticing how hot and flushed she felt and saw her older sister standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hi, Mr Valcourt,” Faith replied, sounding mildly cautious though she continued to smile cordially.
He shrugged. “Please, just Justin. How are you?”
“Fine.” Faith simply nodded and continued to smile as she addressed Willow. “What are you doing? Mom and dad are waiting. Come on.”
“We were just going to talk for a moment, about Willow possibly pursuing art in the future,” he offered. “Would just take a few minutes.”
Willow looked back and forth between them. She was compelled to take another step up.
“Sorry, we have to go,” Faith said with growing insistence. “Our parents have made reservations for a family gathering to celebrate her graduation. Can’t have the guest of honour showing up late.”
She fixed her eyes on Justin.
“Willow,” Faith called to her once more, “we need to go.”
She didn’t want to go but when she turned and saw her sister hold out her hand, she stepped down and took it.
Willow didn’t look back at Mr Valcourt as she made her way to the exit with her sister.
“Good-bye, Willow,” she heard him say just as she passed through the door.
–0–
Seated in the rear of the car of her rideshare, Willow watched the city go by. With the rain coming down and streaking the windows, the view of the streetlights was obscured and blurry, just splashes and starbursts of colour on a black backdrop of night. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t seeing through her eyes at that point. No, her attention was turned inwardly, looking back at herself, asking if she knew what she was doing.
She was going to meet a complete stranger, a man she had only come to know because she serendipitously picked up a phone he may or may not have planted and answered when he called again and again despite better judgment. They had talked –him taunting and leading her at first– and indulged in some heated phone sex, but really, she knew next to nothing about him.
It didn’t matter, she decided. In fact, it was better this way.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper torn from her sketchbook. It was one of several pictures she had drawn of the man, of how she envisioned him to be. She gazed at it, imprinting the face in her mind.
When the car arrived at the condo by the lake, she got out and looked up, allowing a few drops of rain to splash on her face before finally entering the building. At the foyer security doors, she tapped the fob she had picked up from the key exchange earlier and entered. As she rode the elevator up, she checked her phone. She had missed calls from Randall, Mom and Faith.
When she got off on the floor, she walked to the suite and let herself in. Without turning the lights on, she closed the door. The room was dark, almost pitch black except for a soft shimmer coming through the curtains that covered the floor to ceiling windows of the two-story loft.
The first thing she did was check the console table next to the door. She spotted a cell phone lying there and checked it carefully. It was dark, but if she were to guess, she’d say the casing appeared to be a sleek silver. Aside from the colour, it was the same as hers and it also had a small, triangular charm tethered to it, smooth like ivory and with tiny notches along the edge.
Willow pulled out the other phone from her purse and placed it beside the one on the console. She lined up the charms and they immediately came together perfectly as if drawn by magnets to form a pyramid shape. They belonged together.
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and she shifted them around the space as she stood silently by the door. Then she heard footsteps from the bedroom above her head.
“Hello,” a familiar, yet still unknown, voice said.
She walked forward to the bottom of the steps and looked up. In the darkness, she made out the figure of a man, possibly in a suit, standing at the top of the stairs, his silhouette melding with the shadows. The grey-and-blue haze of light filtering in from outside didn’t reveal much of his appearance at all. A tingle of anxiety crept up the back of her neck, with this blank, dark figure waiting for her.
A leathery aroma of rich musk did reach her below. She inhaled it deeply There was the scent of wine in the air, as well.
Trying to remain calm, she hesitated, then said, “You found your way here alright?”
“I did. Arrived just about ten minutes ago,” he replied. “Followed your instructions perfectly. If you’ll also note: The lights are still off. The curtains are drawn. Did you find the phone on the console?”
Willow nodded, then said, “Yes. I saw it.”
He had complied with everything she had asked.
“Shall I come down?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Stay there,” she replied and slowly walked up the stairs, always with her eyes on him.
The shadowy figure stepped aside when she reached the top. As she walked past him, he asked, “Your coat. May I?”
She undid the sash and buttons of her overcoat and warily looked back as he removed it for her. He folded it neatly and set it aside. She had worn a dress, but it wasn’t as if he could really see or truly appreciate it.
“Fortunately, both of us arrived before the real storm,” he said, the offered, “Some wine?”
Willow accepted. He raised his glass to hers, the minimal light catching the edge.
“To strangers meeting,” he toasted.
She paused momentarily, then softly clinked her glass with his.
While they sipped their wine, she stayed a few steps away from him, only tracking him from the edge of her eyes. It was still very dark in the suite, and she was sure that he saw as much of her as she did of him, just vague images.
“I’m very pleased to finally meet you in person… so to speak,” he said, his voice confident and soothing. “Even in this darkness.”
She looked over the railing of the upper loft towards the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“The view would be lovely if not for the curtains,” he remarked, stepping towards her. “But I understand why you asked that they remain closed.”
Willow turned and took another step back. By the railing, there was just enough light coming from outside that she could see make out some more detailed lines and features on his face. Quickly, she stepped around him and walked deeper into the bedroom where the cover of darkness shrouded her.
She kept her back to him, leaning on a dresser facing a mirror. In its reflection, she could see his outline as he stood in front of the windows. She regarded herself in the mirror, narrowing her eyes.
This is what you wanted, she thought.
Slowly, the image in the mirror became more clear as her breathing steadied. There was no look of judgment or apprehension or reluctance reflecting back at her. There was desire, selfish and greedy lust. She swallowed the rest of her wine, finishing it with an audible, satisfying gasp.
She gazed into the reflection of the person standing behind her. The image seemed to shift, bend and take shape by her sheer will and desire. Like a sketch, she drew an image in her head. He was what she wanted him to be.
“What do you want to do now?” he asked patiently.
“I want you to answer me one thing,” she said, speaking directly at the shadowy image reflected in the mirror. “Why me? Why did you call me?”
“Because you answered,” he said.
Her grip tightened on the dresser’s edge.
“Because you always answered,” he continued. “And then… then I couldn’t stop calling you.”
A low rumble of thunder sounded beyond the tall windows of the loft.
“I mean, your voice was compelling, certainly, but I was so curious and intrigued when you continued to answer. About you. About other possibilities,” he said. “I’m not sure what I had been expecting, but it wasn’t what you gave me.”
Willow frowned, picking at the pieces of what he was telling her. “What do you mean by ‘other possibilities’?” she asked.
The man gestured with a nod back. “Those phones… answering a ‘Caller Unknown’. Anything can happen, really,” he explained, “Excitement. Pleasure. Fear… Cruelty.”
She couldn’t tell who he was referring to, her or himself. “So… you’ve done this before?” she asked.
His head tilted aside as he shook it. “I have,” he said unexpectedly, “but from your side of the conversation.”
Willow drew a breath.
“It… didn’t have a similar outcome,” he sighed. “I was still piqued by the act but to be honest, it took me a while to consider trying it myself. And then you answered…”
“And you kept calling…”
“Because I wanted you,” he declared. He took a step forward. His words strained through a firm jaw, “In the end, I want you.”
She closed her eyes for a second as she sifted carefully through his words, then opened them again. Through a narrow crack at the edge of her lips, Willow said, “I’ll tell you what I want.”
“Please.”
“Come over here. Into the dark.”
As she turned around, leaning against the dresser, she watched the phantom figure approach slowly, pulled towards her by some invisible, delicious rope of tension, before stopping two feet in front of her. His height and frame blocked from her view what little light that seeped into the space.
Willow wet her lips. She gazed up at where his eyes would be, held them with hers for a count of three breaths, then quickly reached around his neck with one hand and pulled him against her for a forceful kiss. Immediately she felt the firm grip of his warm palms at her hips as her other hand clutched at the collar of his suit jacket. She smeared her mouth against his, forcing her breaths into him.
Just as quickly, she shoved him back, releasing him. Feeling her pulse and breathing rise again, she didn’t want to stop to think. Quickly she reached for the buttons of his shirt. The man removed his coat, and when she was done undoing his shirt, he discarded it as well.
She traced her fingers around his shoulders and front as he stood before her. She felt his rounded, long muscles, ‘seeing’ his athletic shape with her sensitive fingertips. Her thumbs circled his belly button as her fingers pushed against his tight abdomen, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing.
Reaching for his belt, she tugged him forward between her spread legs as she continued to lean back against the edge of the dresser. Her head tilted upward, they engaged in another passionate kiss while she pried apart his belt.
Intuitive to her commands, he kept his hands at his sides as she feverishly undid his pants and yanked them down with a rough tug. He stepped out of them and back, offering her space between him and the dresser to crouch down, taking his underwear down as she did.
Staying low she pulled his underwear off his feet, dropped to her knees. She dragged her hands up his legs, feeling the fine hairs along his calves and thighs. At his waist, she moved her hands towards the middle, her expectations met by the heavy length of muscle she found there. She breathed out as she gathered his cock and stroked him, her lips brushing against the soft skin along his shaft.
Though she heard him draw a deep breath, he remained steady in her hands, quiet, patient as she looked up. All she saw was a dark figure looming over her as she opened her mouth and took him in deep with a sultry gasp of her throat.
As more rumbles of thunder and flickers of lightning occurred outside, Willow sucked on his cock with a steady rhythm, nudging the tip against the back of her mouth, then easing her head back, raising her chin feeling the provocative drag of his tip along her teeth and palate.
She felt a large hand slide around the back of her head, long fingers wending through her hair, stroking it, gripping it firmly as she doubled her oral efforts along his length. She lifted her lips off of him, sucking the saliva back as she thrust her palm up and down his cock, then raising it up to cup his sack with her mouth. She could hear him strain grunts through his teeth while her lips and tongue continued to indulge in his stiffening cock.
After a few minutes, she pulled herself back up. Still stroking his cock as they kissed, she burned her gaze and her wants into the dark face before her, her desire only beginning to surge. It was time for him to go to work.
Hefting herself back and upon the dresser, she kicked off her heels and reached under the skirt of her dress, tugging off her panties. As the man watched her, she wondered if she could see the look in her eyes, the tempting way they narrowed on him. She raised a leg, setting her foot on the dresser and lifted her skirt.
As her fingers pulled and swirled along her pussy lips, he knew what to do. Immediately on his knees, he moved his face between her thighs. Willow felt the ticklish rough rub of stubble on his cheeks and chin against her tender flesh before the first drag of a wet, warm tongue fell against her pulsing snatch.
Willow’s tummy trembled as he nuzzled in closer, encompassing her with his mouth, working his tongue faster, deeper, massaging his upper lip against her nub. She felt his one hand around her leg while the fingers of the other joined his mouth, spreading her lips wider and then sinking into her. Mouth rounding open as she breathed, she spread her fingers through his slick hair, clutching at his head. Tingly spikes coursed through her crotch and legs, and she writhed slowly against his oral machinations, constantly gulping back breaths of air.
He was good. Very good.
She still wanted more.
Sliding off the dresser, she stepped around the man and climbed onto the bed. She crawled to the top, leaning over the pillows and securing her grip on the headboard with both hands.
Gazing over her shoulder, she called him again, “Get on the bed.”
He did as he was told, sliding onto the bed and coming up behind her.
Heavy rain pelted the windows as the storm was in full effect outside.
Willow continued to angle her head back. She felt a steady hand raise skirt of her dress, bunching it around the small of her back. Cool air in the condo licked at her exposed butt and she swayed it seductively enticing his hands to scope around her curves. Soon his nose nuzzled between her crack, joined by his lips once again. She clenched at the touch of his tongue as it dragged up through her trench from her twitching lips up to her puckered little star.
“Oh… oh, God,” she gasped and swallowed as she felt his tongue swirl around her hole.
She savoured his efforts, twisting her hips, arching her back sharply up and down as his tongue and fingers worked in harmonious precision upon her, within her. His touches were as confident and as bold as his conversation but far more giving than she imagined. Hearing him gasp between his lascivious licks and slurps, she knew he was as hungry as she felt.
“Fuck me,” she said with a rattling breath.
He raised himself on his knees, leaning over Willow’s back. With a gentle touch of his fingers, he eased her head further around and engaged her mouth with a tender kiss, massaging her with his lips and tongue.
Willow sucked on his lips, lapping them with her outstretched tongue. She gasped with anticipation while feeling him rub the thick tip and long length of his cock up and down her crack and back and forth between her legs with deliberately teasing strokes.
“I want you inside me, now,” she breathed.
With that, the man obliged and eased his cock in slowly.
“O-oh,” she moaned towards the wall, her head listing back. She swayed her hips back, rolling her butt, taking him deep till his crotch pressed against her ass.
As he held there, his cock swaddled by her clenching inner flesh, she could feel his hardened length throbbing within her.
“Mmm,” he hummed from deep within his chest, then he quickly set to thrusting his hips with a steady, undulating rhythm.
Willow matched his provocative movements with her own, rolling her belly like a steady tide, pushing and pulling his cock in and out. The sound of crisp smacks of her butt cheeks against his crotch soon swelled by the minute.
While he kissed and licked her neck, his hands groped at her breasts through her dress. He pulled her away from the headboard, pressing her back against his broad chest. As he supported her, she slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders. He assisted, pulling her bra down, all her clothing gathered around her waist. His hands came around, scoping her breasts, plucking at her stiff nipples with his long fingers.
Willow felt the blood surge through her body, certain that her pale skin was glowing red. As he held her back by the elbows and rattled her with rapid thrusts, she shook wildly, her head lolling around as she groaned aloud through the strands of hair that had fallen across her flushed face.
“Uhh… I… I want to be on top,” she gasped.
Once more without hesitation or question, he deferred to her demands. He released his grip from her arms, slipped his slicked cock out, and rolled onto his back on the bed.
Willow crawled over him, pausing to suck greedily on his now fully hardened shaft, before straddling his waist. Breathing through her mouth, she gazed down, staring at the dark face lying against the white pillow beneath her. Together they angled his shaft till the tip bullied at her puffed pussy lips before she settled over him with a stiff shove of her hips.
They gasped in unison. As she quickly broke into fast gyrations upon him, his breathing intensified with grizzled rumbles from his throat.
Hands against his shoulders, Willow leaned forward and rode him roughshod feeling his cock churn inside of her, his hips buck up against her. Nothing threw her off the desperate pace she had set. As the storm outside rolled on relentlessly, so did she, embracing the unconditional release coursing through her.
She wanted everything he had: the strong, confident grip of his hands upon her body, the brazen thrusts of his hips, the heat of his flesh against hers, his bristling sighs and moans of satisfaction. She wanted his stiff cock for her endless, frantic pleasure. She wanted his eyes on her, desiring her.
And at this moment, she had all of that and more.
Even as the thunderstorm finally relented and passed, they continued fucking. Her dress finally tossed aside, only her crucifix necklace remained, dangling and bouncing along her neck. Their overheated bodies twisted the sheets from the edge of the mattress as Willow took them through every position she had etched out in her mind, sexual fantasies fulfilled.
He was behind her again as they lay pressed together sideways on the bed, her leg raised up, secure in his strong hand. Thrust after snapping thrust of his hips, he shunted his engorged shaft in and out. Her neck craned back, their lips locked together in a desperate, gasping kiss, tongues entwining, saliva slipping between their mouths.
Willow groaned, her whole body aching as she strained it to its limits, every part of her working hard to drive every ounce of pleasure from this moment. All the while she kept her eyes open, wide and charged with a resilient desire. Even in the dark, she saw everything, almost so blindingly clear that it made her heart swell.
With one hand holding his hand against her chest as he fondled her breasts, her other wrapped around the back of his head, they continued to kiss. She suddenly felt a surge of cold electricity erupt from her belly, flaring under her hot skin. Taken to the edge, her body quivered and suddenly seized.
“Uh-UHH!” she groaned long and wearily into his mouth, feeling a rush pour from her, splashing over his cock as he continued to fill her with increasingly rugged and erratic thrusts. Her body hitched and trembled, still spilling more of her soaking cum onto their flesh and the bed.
“Mmm, God,” she gasped, blinking. Her head dropped, turning away from his kiss as she licked her parched lips and gulped her breath and spit.
The man’s hard body, pressed against her back as firm as a brick wall, suddenly tensed. His fingers curled into her soft skin, digging into her leg and breast. His cock shoved fully inside of her up to the hilt of his crotch and held there, throbbing and hot.
Willow heard his primal, extended grunt of satisfaction fill the space around her. She felt his hips buck and twitch against her, sensing the forceful spurts of rich cum within her, filling her deep.
“Oh my God,” he groaned as he held her close, still dripping inside of her. He gasped and hummed as he trailed steamy kisses along her shoulder and neck.
She wet her lips again and stretched them into a tight, appeased smile. She felt a warm, sumptuous ache swell from her lower body to every limb. Her mind drifted as if coming out of a dream, and her flesh felt hot and sticky as his warm hands continued to caress and massage her.
Finally, he rolled onto his back, withdrawing his spent shaft, and she slid on top of him. As she lay on his solid, exhausted body, she felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath her, his sticky flesh pressing against hers. He remained silent as if for the first time he no longer had anything left to say to her.
Willow focused, gazing intently down at his face. His skin glowed with perspiration. With her mind’s eye alert and attuned, she traced his features –his brows, cheeks, mouth, nose and chin. She saw everything clearly for the first time.
Nothing was as she imagined. Nothing was as she had drawn. Her “Caller Unknown” remained just that. A serenity enveloped her and she smiled to herself. Just as she noticed his eyes focus upon her, seeing through the darkness between them, she finally closed hers and fell upon him with a tender kiss.
–0–
Willow awoke, her head lying aside on the pillow, facing the man. It was still dark in the loft, but her eyes had adjusted. Under the dim light seeping through the curtains, she regarded him. She touched his face gently with her fingers as she watched him sleep, tracing and admiring each feature. He was a handsome man, his look matching his the calm and confident tones of his voice.
A few minutes later, she finally got up from the bed. After getting dressed, she carried her shoes, purse and coat quietly downstairs.
Just as she turned towards the front door, she heard him say softly, calmly, “Good-bye… Willow.”
Pausing momentarily with an unburdened, knowing smile, she continued to the door. She stopped at the console table, reached into her purse and set down the drawing.
She then gathered both phones and left.
–0–
Three weeks later, Willow sat in her office cubicle talking to her sister over the phone.
“I’ll be meeting mom and dad after work,” Faith said.
“Good. It’s about time,” Willow replied. She had grown weary of listening to her family’s poor attempts to reconcile over the phone and Faith’s belongings were overtaking her apartment storage.
“Are you sure you won’t come?”
She swivelled in her office chair, tapping her sketching pencil on a blank piece of paper. She smirked and said, “Not on your life. This is your deal.”
Willow refused to play mediator or dragged in to take sides. The most she was willing to offer was to be the one to tell everyone to calm down over and over. Really, what would be the point of that? Why subject herself to a cacophony of family conflict that really had nothing to contribute to? She was just feeling too good at this time and wanted to spare herself any personal aggravation for as long as she could.
“You can tell me about it when you get back to my place tonight… if they don’t kill you,” she giggled evilly. “I’ll help you move your stuff to your new apartment on the weekend, though.”
That was something she was willing to put effort into expediting.
“Thanks alot,” Faith replied. Her sarcasm came through loud and clear.
“Okay,” Willow said, then softened her edge and added sympathetically, “Be strong, Faith. Tell them what you told me. Just be straight up. This is what you wanted. It was going to happen one way or the other.”
“Rip the bandage off.”
“Yep.”
There was a long pause, then her sister asked, “But you’re alright with what I did?”
Willow smiled crookedly and continued to stare at the nice clean, blank piece of paper in front of her. Again, she wasn’t sure if Faith knew exactly why she was asking that question.
She shook her head and said, “Bye, Faith.” Then she hung up.
She’d let her figure that on her own.
“Hey,” Randall said, suddenly appearing around the corner of her cubicle. It didn’t startle her to see him.
“Hey,” she said, nodding.
“Your sister good?’ he asked. Randall and his eavesdropping…
Willow shrugged. “Who knows?”
He cocked his head aside and eyed her. “How about you? You good?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Has… he called?” he asked hesitantly, yet obviously intrigued.
“No.”
“And you haven’t…”
“Uh-uh.”
She didn’t tell Randall that they couldn’t call one another, not any longer.
“Well… I’m sorry? I think? Should I be?” he asked, his furry brows contorting every which way. He put his hands on his hips and sighed, “You know, Willy, let me tell you about the virtues of white bread sex…”
“Stop. Later,” Willow laughed, holding her hand up to his face. She stood and gathered her purse. “I’m going out for lunch. Want anything?”
He frowned at her. “Sure. How about a Boston Cream donut?”
–0–
As she had done for the past several days, Willow sat on the park bench across the street from the French bistro cafe. She took a sip of her coffee, then alternated between watching and waiting and sketching on her pad.
The man sat outside on the patio of the cafe. This had been his regular spot during the last couple of weeks, taking a break from the nearby studio where he worked to have some lunch and draw on his tablet. Today he was distracted from his art, examining the strange phone with the unique crimson-red case he had discovered left on the seat when he arrived. He turned over the small charm tethered to it a few times, running his fingers along the coarse edge. Seemingly intrigued, he looked around once more for its owner.
Then he picked up the single lily that had been left beside it.
Willow smiled and placed her sketch pad on her lap. She removed the silver cell phone with the matching charm from her purse, tapped the screen, then held it at her ear while still watching the cafe.
The man noticed the phone ringing. Again he looked around, but then finally picked it up. “Hello?” he answered.
“Hello,” she said, then waited with her leg bouncing leisurely over her knee.
“Umm…” he replied then hesitated. As he craned his neck in search of the unknown caller, Willow could see the bemused look on his face. “This isn’t my phone. It was left here and I found it. Do you know who it belongs to?”
“Yes. The person I want to speak to.”
He smirked. “I don’t think it’s me who you want.”
“I know who I want.”
He chuckled. He picked up and regarded the lily, shaking his head amusedly as if he were still in control of the situation, then asked, “Do I know you?”
A defiant look gleamed in her eye and a grin of unremorseful, cruel intention angled upon her lips. Her fingers teased at her crucifix as she looked down at her drawing and replied, “No… no, you don’t.”
