Around three o’clock that afternoon, something oddly changed in Rhonda’s usual routine. For some reason, at that particular hour, she couldn’t stop herself from eyeing Gabriel all the way from her cubicle for the past fifteen minutes. Her fingers were busy typing away on the keyboard, but her brown eyes kept darting over to her boss’s direction every ten seconds. She would pause, watch him for at least the same amount of time, and then continue with her work, repeating this unusual pattern.
The pixie cut blonde still held a torch for that untouchable man who was pacing his office. The vacation she had taken with Gabriel to the Dominican Republic was forever etched in her memory. Every time she recalled those ten days of bliss, it always felt like everything happened yesterday, even though the tropical recollections occurred six years prior.
At 36, Rhonda was still single, childless, and had no plans to settle down or adopt. It was hard for her to date a decent man when Gabriel King had forever ruined her. As much as she’d wished she had never slept with him, she couldn’t completely regret the experience. The romantic getaway had been the closest thing to paradise for Rhonda.
She watched her unavailable boss having a conversation by the window, cellphone in hand. Although it was hard to lip read his words, he was smiling in a particular way that only Rhonda was able to decipher.
God, not her again, she dreaded, pressing the back space a few times because she had accidentally typed: I fucking hate that bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The spam of exclamation marks was a bit too much, but the emotion behind those lines and dots certainly communicated her jealousy.
Impulsively, she stopped what she was doing, released a lengthy breath, and shook her hands.
She’s not you. She can never be you. She’s just some slut that he conveniently sleeps with whenever he’s bored. She’s the toy that will get tossed away, and you are the trophy he will forever keep on his shelf. He’ll see it one day. Rhonda attempted to rationalize in her own delusional manner. She had never been a fan of Calista Coldwell; a sassy and ambitious redhead with viper green eyes, and a body that could have made her playmate of the year, had she chosen to model nude.
There was a time when Rhonda used to be so envious of women who had naturally larger breasts. But after a trip to her plastic surgeon ten years ago, she had paid good money to have the doctor stitch her up with silicone implants, enhancing her chest size from an A cup to a C.
Calista, on the other hand, not only had a bigger chest, but a bigger derriere that could have given one very infamous reality star a run for her money. Gabriel had met Calista at an upscale bar downtown three years ago, and the two of them began casually seeing each other on and off whenever she was in the city. The twenty-nine year old was a sports publicist, which was why her profession required a lot of travelling.
Rhonda felt nauseous as she peered up at Gabriel again and observed his overtly smitten smile. Just the mention of Calista Coldwell’s name made her want to puke up her lunch. She was familiar with the way the corner of his mouth curved up into a sexy little smirk. He had smiled at Rhonda like that not too long ago when she had disrobed down to the buff just for him.
Out of the corner of Rhonda’s eye, she noticed Richard approaching with a silly looking grin on his face. She immediately stopped monitoring her boss and pretended to look absorbed in her turbo typing.
“Rhondaaaa…” Richard said her name in his feminine sing song voice, looking uppity as usual. “Oh Rhonda, Oh Rhonda, if you were a man, I would totally want yaaaa…” He sang every word like a really bad Sinatra impersonator.
She shook her head, sighing. “Is this the way you are always going to greet me, Richy?”
He was smiling from one dopey ear to the other, hovering over his favorite coworker’s cubicle. “Guess what I found out, Rhondy?”
“Call me that one more time and you will find yourself hospitalized,” she firmly stated, clicking those keys harder than before.
“But we’re Richy and Rhondy. It’s so catchy!”
Sounds like a lame-o 70’s band, she thought.
Rhonda stopped typing and looked up at him impassively. “The docs won’t be able to attach your little penis because I’ll have thrown it somewhere in an abandoned alley way, to which a starving, skinny, alley cat named Franz will probably eat it out of desperation—poor thing—and half an hour later, your cock will be nothing but cat poop, decomposing and…”
“All right, all right!” He sneered. “Jeezuz, woman! What is wrong with you? Spare me the homicidal fantasies!”
“Oh, you’ll live.” She paused for dramatic effect. “You just won’t have a penis.”
“Stop saying that word!”
“What word? Penis?” Rhonda leered.
“You make it sound so…”
“Penis pump… penal implant…”
“Shh! Quiet, you!”
“Penis-roach.”
“Excuse me, what? Penis-roach?” Those words put together disturbed him.
“Yep, you heard me the first time. A penis-roach is what you call a guy who’s basically like a cockroach, but it’s discriminating and insulting to that species to call a guy a cockroach when he’s basically filthier than that insect, so you just call him a penis-roach.” She shrugged with a smile.
Richard blinked in confusion. “You just ruined homosexuality for me. Thank you, Rhonda. My father would thank you for making me consider fornicating with a woman.”
“Did I just turn you off to cock?” She flashed a pearly white smile.
“This is by far the weirdest conversation of 2014,” he said, shaking his head. “But anyway, getting back to my point, your murder fantasy…”
“Torture, not murder.” Rhonda corrected, continuing her work while multitasking.
“You know I have a queasy stomach for descriptively graphic visuals—and my…” Richard lowered his voice to a whisper, “penis is perfectly in proportion to my height, thank you very much.”
What the hell is that even supposed to mean? She wondered. “I wasn’t showing you visuals.”
Richard sneered, feeling something shrivel down below. “Your words did the job just fine! If Hollywood were to ever do a horror movie…”
“Do not go there, Rich.”
He knitted his brows together. “I was about to make an epic movie reference!”
“And I just saved it from getting butchered by you.”
“Gabe and Casey were always doing it! Bouncing movie lines back and forth… I was hoping that would be our thing now.” His big beaver teeth raked over his bottom lip as he smiled ridiculously.
Rhonda stopped typing and looked up. “That’s Gabe and Casey’s thing. You do not steal a Gabe and Casey thing,” she reiterated.
“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “Who died and made them king of the world?”
Well, his name is Gabriel King, she giggled inside as Richard continued his relentless babbling.
“Personally”—he fidgeted with his red tie—“my reference was funny.”
She rolled her eyes and continued staring at her computer monitor, typing away like a robot.
Richard shifted his weight onto his other leg and placed his hand on his hip. “Oh, come on, humor me already and take a guess!”
Rhonda closed the header on her word document and started a new line. “You’re Richard Simmons bastard child?”
He was finally about to share his excitement when he paused and frowned. “Hey, just because we’re both gay, doesn’t mean we’re related.”
“I made that guess based on an uncanny resemblance, except Simmons has hair—you don’t—and he looks better.”
“I will pretend I didn’t hear that.” He stuck his big nose in the air like a diva and added, “I’ll have you know that I used to fantasize about Liza Minnelli being my birth mother.”
Rhonda stopped typing again, clasped her hands together and animatedly smiled. “How sweet. This has been such an enlightening conversation, Richard. Thanks for dropping by!” Then she immediately scowled. “Enough with the shenanigans, some of us actually have work to do.”
He held his hands behind his back and leaned over her cubicle. “A little birdy told me that Victor’s planning to promote one of the senior associate’s and make him partner.”
“Him?” Rhonda raised a thin eyebrow. “That’s so sexist, Rich. There are female lawyers in this firm who are just as capable and deserving of that position. In fact, they should probably replace Alistair.”
He grinned. “I would promote you in a heartbeat if I was your boss.”
She snorted. “Promoted to what? Office maid?”
His beady blue eyes squinted in confusion. “You’re a legal administrative secretary.”
Rhonda sighed. “Cue rolling snare drum sound…”
“Why would I demote you to a janitorial position?” He seemed to aim that question more at himself than at her.
“And rolling…” Rhonda continued in a monotone voice.
“Honestly, that made no sense, Rhonda.”
“Still rolling…”
Richard quirked a bushy dark eyebrow at her. “Don’t do standup comedy.”
“Buh-dum-psshh!” She mimed a set of drum sticks with her hands, beaming at her colleague. Clearly he had missed her sarcasm.
“Very funny,” he muttered, glancing over at Gabriel’s office. “Boss man’s not working you to the bone, is he?”
“Wow, sexist and racist!”
“Huh?” Richard looked perplexed.
“Never mind.”
“I just meant that you’re looking a bit frail.”
“Goodbye, Richard!”
Gabriel suddenly walked out of his office, approaching the chatty pair. He was seemingly in a good mood. “Are you harassing my secretary?”
Le gasp! Richard died a little inside. Be still faint heart! He’d always had a crush on Gabriel ever since he laid eyes on him.
Rhonda spoke up. “He was just about to leave.”
Richard’s cheeks began to flush as he smiled like a giddy little school girl trying to hide her obvious crush. “I was just asking Rhonda a question.” He smiled, resting his elbow on the ledge of the cubicle. If this was his attempt to look cool, he had clearly failed.
“Like?” Gabriel raised a suspicious eyebrow, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“Like… uh…”
“He was proposing that I follow him into the bathroom with a tape measure so that I could measure his very tiny penis.”
Richard looked mortified. “What? No!” He screwed up his face, shocked that Rhonda would even joke about such a thing. “My penis is not tiny!”
Everyone who had been walking past them suddenly froze. All eyes were on Richard now.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, people! Yes, I have a penis! And since all of you found it so necessary to stop what you were doing and eavesdrop on this conversation, I’ll have you know that it’s a generous six and a half inches! Okay?”
One of the associates snickered, which only made Richard shake with anger.
Gabriel felt like he was in the Twilight Zone. He pressed his thumb and index to his forehead, cringing as Richard continued to dig himself a deeper hole.
What his peculiar friend didn’t know was that Victor Alistair had overheard his outburst.
“Richard!” the old man’s voice was loud enough to vibrate the glass walls.
After a long pause, Richard said, “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?”
Gabriel frowned, slowly nodding.
“In my office, now!”
It was as if someone had pressed play on the remote again and all the associates began to go back to work like nothing had happened.
Rhonda looked up at her boss. “He’s in trouble, huh?”
Gabriel’s eyes were gleaming with hilarity. “Nah. Victor’s just going to give him a little slap on the wrist, tell him he was a bad boy, and send him on his way.”
And Victor Alistair had done exactly that… (sort of).
~oOo~
Blue Sapphire Exxxotica was New York’s most upscale strip club downtown. It was the hot spot where all the wealthy CEO’s, lawyers, doctors, including the rich and famous would come to spend their money on the sexiest dancers.
These weren’t the typical women that were normally found dancing at trashy truck-stop stripper joints. The dancers were young and beautiful enough to be pageant queens. A vast majority of them were European refugees that had been trafficked into the sex trade. But the club owner, Vladimir Bergenov made sure that his employees were taken care of, which was why he had so many customers that were willing to cash out some serious dough on “his girls.”
The club would open at happy hour every day, and many bachelors would pour in (married men included). They’d sit around a T shaped stage, drinking and watching these voluptuous women strip down to nothing, just for their viewing pleasure. Some of those men would request a private lap dance, and perhaps, maybe a little more… a lot more.
It was six o’clock, and instead of going home to get ready and take his girlfriend out on a date, Casey Levy was inside a dark room that was glowing from the blue fluorescent lamps.
A blonde stripper was on all fours over a circular platform, moaning uncontrollably as he dug his fingers into her fat injected bottom, mercilessly thrusting himself into her. “Take it, bitch! Take my cock!”
She felt the impact of his speed, screaming in pleasure. This scandalous obscenity had not been a onetime thing. Casey had ventured to this room many times before and had sex with the Ukrainian stripper, Katya. She hated selling her body for money, but it was the only way she was able to support her impoverished family back home. In reality, Katya was a closet lesbian.
“Fuck, how does this pussy stay so tight!” Casey groaned. Lost in the moment, nothing and no one else was on his mind. All he could focus on was blowing a massive load all over the stripper’s ass. He wrapped his fist around her golden locks and tugged back hard. “Open your mouth!”
She obeyed, shutting her eyes as he spat inside. “Such a good fucking whore.” He pet her head as if she were a dog and continued pounding into her, harder than ever.
Katya’s moaning never ceased. She prayed he would soon finish up and leave, but would God in Heaven answer the desperate pleas of a sinning soul who slept with men every night by choice? These were Katya’s thoughts as she forced her mind to adapt to her role as the Whore of Babylon.
Casey was close to achieving his release. He was bucking into her like a bull when his cellphone rang. He had forgotten to set it on silent and it was ruining his mental preparation for a mind blowing come, because he knew who was calling. Casey had customized his ringtone for Rachel’s number to a song by Norah Jones.
… Don’t know why I didn’t come…
He tried to ignore it, but the phone kept ringing.
…why I didn’t come…
Casey closed his eyes.
… didn’t come…
Oh, the irony.
“Shit!” He pulled out of her, tossed away the condom and began to violently stroke his length. His wrist was burning but soon found relief. Two small jets of semen sprayed out over Katya’s ass.
Casey was breathlessly disappointed to only have managed to ejaculate less than what he had anticipated.
Fucking phone, he thought.
Katya caught her breath and routinely began to clean herself up. Her client tossed six folded hundred dollar bills on the platform before composing himself and walking out without any other exchange.
Casey glanced at the time on his cellphone. Shit! I’m late!
He got himself out of that strip club as fast as he could and phoned Rachel back.
There was one ring and then an answer. “Casey, where are you?”
A cab driver loudly honked his horn, causing him to cover his other ear with his palm. “Babe, I’m running a bit late—on my way, though. Is it okay if I meet you at the theater?”
“But what about your clothes and…”
“I’ve got a spare suit in my office. I’ve already showered here—one of the benefits of working for Zachary Zimmerman, I get my own bathroom.”
“Okay, hun. I’ll bring your ticket with me and meet you at the Metropolitan. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t!” he was about to hang up when he said, “I’ll call you when I’m there. I love you.”
She smiled on the other end. “I love you too.”
Casey hung up and immediately started dialing Gabriel’s number. It was too late for him to get ready and he really did not want to watch some fat guy sing for two and a half hours. As soon as he’d entered a cab, Gabriel picked up.
“What are you doing calling me at this hour? Pay attention to your girlfriend.” He assumed that Casey was riding in a taxi next to Rachel, on their way to the opera.
“Gabe, I need you to do me a favor, please don’t say no.”
“You’re pushing it, pal. I’m not feeling generous tonight. I have plans.” He was standing inside his master bath, clad in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his V shaped waist.
“Listen, I won’t be able to make it to that opera show.”
“O-kay? Why are you calling me and telling me this?” Gabriel set his cell down on the vanity and put Casey on speakerphone so that he could tend to his usual skincare regimen.
“I told Rachel I’d be there. She’s on her way to the theater as we speak.”
“What?” Gabriel looked confused. “Why would you tell her to meet you there if you’re not going to show up? Are you doing drugs now, Levy?”
Casey sighed. “Nah, dude. I told her I’d meet her there because I knew that if I said I wouldn’t make it, she would head straight home and go to bed depressed. I was hoping you could step in for me as her date because I have to work late tonight on a case I need to win in court tomorrow.”
“Shit…”
“Please, Gabriel!” He sounded so desperate. “I swear to God, I would go if I could. You know how bad Rach and I need to bond right now. She was looking forward to this night, and I don’t want to ruin it because of work.” He lied through his teeth, listening to his friend exhaling his frustration. “I’m sorry if you have plans this evening.”
“Yeah. I did.”
Did? Casey was hopeful for a second. “Does that mean that you’re…?”
“Canceling my plans at the casino with my hot date to save your relationship?” He paused. “Yes.”
“You are a life saver! You’re better than Dr. Ph—”
“Don’t say his name.” Gabe shook his head.
“Right—my bad. Ridiculous comparison.”
Gabriel sighed again. “All right, let me hang up so I can get changed and make it to the theater.”
Casey was so relieved. “Rachel’s got our tickets, just call her when you’re there.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks again, Gabe. I owe you one.”
“I’ll be sure to collect.” He hung up, running his fingers through his thick mane.
The thirty-six year old hot shot attorney faced his reflection, briefly shutting his eyes.
I could have said no. He opened them and stared at himself. I could have just fucking said no.
But the faintest voice inside of him whispered, you would never let a woman like Rachel Rose go to the opera alone.
Gabriel rubbed his temples and looked at the time on his iPhone. He had forty minutes to get all fresh and suited up. His client had told him that it was opening night for that particular show, so it was a big black tie event.
He called up his date and delivered the tragic news: stomach flu. She’d sounded disappointed, but he wasn’t going to bail on Rachel.
I’ll just sit through the show, take her home, and that will be that, he told himself. That was the game plan in Gabriel’s mind. It sounded very innocent… Oh, how wrong he was. Fate had been planning this twist of events for the longest time, and Gabriel had no idea. No one ever did when it came to destiny.
~oOo~
She was standing on the second floor balcony inside the Metropolitan Opera House. Rachel was excited and nervous at the same time. Gabriel had allowed her to leave work earlier than usual so she could get all dolled up for her date. She’d concluded that he must have known about her plans through Casey. This was going to be her very first opera.
Rachel had read the stories about Don Giovanni, but she had never seen the opera performance of the tales.
Her black gown elegantly trailed behind her as she effortlessly strutted on her open toe heels. Rachel was wearing the most sunning dress that evening. Her cinnamon skin was absolutely glowing, her eye makeup was darker than usual, and instead of brushing on the typical nude gloss she applied before work, she had decided on a daring, lustrous red that evening: Midnight Kiss by MAC. She’d styled her chocolate brown hair in waves and curls, hanging her locks over one shoulder.
Rachel’s hourglass figure looked so eye fetching in her black strapless dress. The gown was darted near the bodice, tightly accentuating her waist and fishtailing near the hem. There was plenty of cleavage going on, more than what she was normally comfortable with, but almost every women around her was flaunting plunging necklines and revealing more skin than fabric, so it seemed.
She wore black satin gloves stretched up to her arms, and the dazzling diamond bracelet that Casey had purchased was sparkling on her right wrist. A pair of diamond studs glittered on her ear lobes. They had been a gift from her father when she got accepted into law school.
Rachel was a vision of beauty, an artist’s dream. No painting would have done her justice, even the most talented of artists would not have been able to possess the fine skill to capture the rose that she was and make her blossom on canvas. Her breath taking allure was only to be experienced in person that night by every man and woman who was lucky enough to gaze and admire the work of art that she was.
Soft music was playing in the background, echoing off the walls of the old theater. Rachel recognized the song. Ever since she was ten, she had learned how to play the cello, and had specifically practiced this composition during one of her recitals: Samuel Barber, Adagio For Strings.
The sound of the orchestral strings were heart crushingly beautiful. She had to close her eyes for a moment and breathe, so that her fleeting emotions would not get the best of her. It was as if the melody was a symbolic prelude to a promise; a promise that Rachel’s evening would be one of the most emotionally romantic nights in all her twenty-six years of life.
Four crystal chandeliers were regally hanging off the high ceiling. She stood by the marble balustrade and watched the colorful gowns and tuxedos below, holding her sparkling black clutch in her hand, expecting Casey’s phone call.
As the song kept reaching its climactic bridge, Rachel tried to erase Gabriel out of her mind. She felt guilty for thinking of him when her boyfriend was bound to arrive in minutes. Coincidentally, her cellphone rang.
She opened her clutch and noticed that it wasn’t Casey’s name on the caller ID. It was a private number. Curiously, she answered. “Hello?”
There was a delayed feedback of the song that was currently playing. “Casey? Can you hear me?”
Gabriel had just got through the door. He’d managed to get inside, explaining that his “fiancée” had his ticket.
Rachel heard a voice breaking up on the other end. “Case?”
“It’s Gabriel,” he finally answered, scanning the theater. Gabriel was still on the main floor, leisurely walking past crowds of handsomely dressed couples.
“Gabriel?” Rachel looked and sounded shocked. Her heart suddenly dropped in her chest, assuming the worst. “Where is Casey?”
He could hear the panic in her voice. “Don’t worry, he’s fine.”
She started toward the grand staircase that was covered in red velvet, curving downward to the foyer.
“He wasn’t able to make it tonight,” said Gabriel.
“Why not?” She frowned, holding onto the baluster so that she wouldn’t trip while she pressed the phone to her ear.
He exhaled, cursing himself in his head. “Casey called me because…” Someone bumped into him, nearly spilling his drink all over his tux. “Watch it!”
Gabriel decided to stop moving and just stand stationary, in hopes of spotting Rachel and avoiding further contact with anyone else’s shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Rachel asked.
He ignored her question and continued explaining. “Look, he had to work late because he’s got court tomorrow, so I…” He turned around, and when he did, everything stopped. His world had stopped, and he was no longer talking.
Gabriel’s heartbeat began to speed up.
Luh dub-luh dub-luh dub…
Time seemed to have frozen in his mind because time and space did not matter anymore. Every person around him had disappeared and all he could see was the vision of a divine goddess, slowly descending the stairs. It was as if she was making her way to him from an altar of Heaven, to the Archangel Gabriel. He stood without wings, disguised in human form; mouth half open, mesmerized.
Gabriel hung up and hid the device in his pocket, unable to tear his eyes off her, fearing that she would disappear if he did. He dared not speak in that moment, not when he knew he would have sounded like a lovesick stuttering fool if he attempted to utter a word.
The beautiful violin music echoed in their ears, aiding the heavenly ambiance that had floated into the theater like slow moving fog. Passion was in the air, teasing their bodies like an invisible deity.
His feet finally moved when Rachel reached the last few steps. She thought he looked so handsome in his tux, which was no surprise because Gabriel always looked attractive in everything he wore.
She smiled demurely, taking his hand when he reached out to help her. His gesture was innocent, yet it sent pleasurable chills down Rachel’s body. She was partly grateful when he let go.
Gabriel blinked. At last, he was able to get his tongue to move. “Casey told me to apologize on his behalf. He didn’t want you to cancel and head home, so he asked me to escort you.”
He wasn’t expecting her to frown in reaction.
“You didn’t have to. I’m sure there are a million other things you’d rather be doing tonight than to be here with me.”
The air seemed to shift between them. It always did whenever they were within a five feet radius of each other.
“Not quite.” He smiled crookedly.
An attractive pink blush began to spread around the apples of her cheeks. Rachel hated feeling like a chronic blusher around her boss.
“Give me one of those tickets.”
She opened her clutch and gave him what he wanted.
“Wait here,” he instructed.
A short minute later, Gabriel returned, smiling charismatically as he offered his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we?”
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Take my arm, Rachel. I’m not your boss tonight.”
“Then who are you?”
“The man who looks like your boss,” he teased, flashing that charismatic smile that women swooned over.
She matched his expression and hooked her arm around his, allowing Gabriel to lead the way.
~oOo~
They had stopped by the bar first to drink some champagne, and then, Gabriel purchased opera glasses for Rachel so that she could use them in their private box seats. They were painted in gold and looked like tiny binoculars.
Ten minutes was all they had until the curtains would open, and the opera would commence, but he’d decided to head toward their seating to get settled since everyone else was rushing in.
Rachel was taken aback by how much privacy they had. It was only the two of them in that boxed area; intimate and secluded. She sat down first, and then Gabriel. His arm brushed against hers. The distance between their chairs was next to nonexistent, but at least the seats were comfortable.
“Have you ever been to an opera before?” Rachel asked, deciding to make conversation.
“Yes, a few times.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
He didn’t know how to answer her. The only reason why he had ever gone to these events was because of his ex-girlfriend (the one he had almost married).
“Depends on the type of opera, I guess,” Gabriel answered.
He had seen the operatic performance of Don Giovanni before, and it wasn’t his particular favorite.
Rachel turned to him, staring into his engaging eyes. “Thank you,” she paused, “for coming tonight.”
“I didn’t have any other plans.” His smile was subtle.
It felt nice to see him in better spirits, Rachel thought. All through the day she had been extra conscious to make sure she completed her work with no errors. After every bathroom break, she had made sure to double check the contracts before taking them to his office so that the same “mistake” did not reoccur. Rachel wanted to show Gabriel that she was very much capable of being an excellent lawyer.
As her boss and mentor, he had always been fair to her. He didn’t like to be addressed so formally as “Mr. King”, so Rachel had grown accustomed to calling him on a first name basis ever since she became his intern.
The lights were now dimming as a bright spotlight followed the maestro to his waiting orchestra. The crowd began to applaud when he bowed politely, and then turned to face his musicians.
The music began with a thundering D minor cadence; a pounding bass drum accompanied by snare percussion and timpani. Woodwinds, trumpets, and trombones joined in, as a young and extremely licentious nobleman, Don Giovanni, walked on stage, opening with Act 1: The Garden of the Commendatore.
The performers were dressed in colorfully elegant costumes that represented fashion in the baroque era. The audience sat in admiration as Don Giovanni began to sing in Italian; an expert Baritone.
Rachel raised her opera glasses and peered through the lenses. Gabriel smiled faintly. His eyes were mostly on Rachel through the first few minutes of the show. If Heaven had a fragrance, then it smelled like the intoxicating perfume that Rachel had sprayed on.
~oOo~
Once halfway through the fifth scene in Don Giovanni’s ballroom, Gabriel began to reflect on his life. In some ways he could relate to the sex hungry Don. He too had a licentious appetite, and he rarely went to bed alone. There was always a warm body next to him, but these women were never able to melt his frozen heart.
The orchestra was now performing Tomas Albinoni’s Adagio in G Minor, a soul riveting ensemble of violins that were soon accompanied by cellos. A skilled Soprano began to sing with such powerful emotion with the heartbreaking music. Rachel felt each note plucking at her heart strings, as if her most vital organ were a harp.
In all his years of dating, Gabriel had never really experienced a moment where he took the time to admire a woman’s body without sexualizing her in his mind. His eyes caressed Rachel’s silken hair down to her neck, noticing her captivating femininity. Her skin looked so soft, so kissable; he wanted to reach out and touch. He wanted to do so much more.
Overcome with undeniable feelings, all Gabriel desired was to take her sweet face in his hands and kiss her softly. Perhaps in that instance, he was only possessed by the Phantom of the Opera. Thus, his transitory passion—he didn’t know and decided not to rationalize it.
Rachel’s heart achingly swelled while she fought back tears because the music was just too emotional. She didn’t want to cry, not while Gabriel was sitting next to her. It had been such a difficult year, and everything was catching up to her.
When the scene was finally over, a tear rolled down Rachel’s cheek, as the ceiling lights slowly glowed to life again. The audience applauded, and now it was a twenty minute intermission before the second act would begin.
“That was so beautiful,” said Rachel. “I wasn’t expecting to cry.”
It felt like instinct to reach out and wipe her fallen tear, and he did exactly like that.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“Don’t apologize.” His eyes were warmer in the romantic lighting. “Every time we’re interacting that’s all you seem to be doing lately, apologizing to me.”
She blushed. It was true. Rachel was always saying sorry, even for things that were not her fault.
“Come on.” Gabriel stood up and held out his hand. “Let’s stretch our legs.”
~oOo~
Rachel was still in disbelief that Gabriel King was at the opera with her. Feeling guilty, she wanted to call Casey, but decided to text him instead to avoid disturbing him.
Gabriel had returned with two glasses of champagne. He handed one to Rachel with a smile.
“Thank you.”
“Cheers.” He clinked his glass against hers and drank the fizzy liquor.
“I’m enjoying the opera so far,” she said.
“Me too. They’ve changed the musical score a bit. It’s different, but nice.”
She wondered if he still desired her the same way he did that night in his office. Every time she stared into his eyes longer than three seconds, all she could feel was heat.
Maybe it was just the alcohol that had made him more uninhibited that night, Rachel thought. After all, they had been drinking. It wasn’t something she was going to bring up ever again. He had made sure to tell her that he had moved on from it. She had never been unfaithful to anyone in her life, and always prided herself on being a loyal partner. Kissing Gabriel only proved that she was a hypocrite and not as saintly as she believed she was. Rachel Rose now belonged to the eternally flawed human race, driven to sin by nature. The realization had depressed her, but there was nothing she could do to change it. All that could be done was to make sure that it didn’t happen again. This she felt confident in, because Gabriel did not initiate any sexual advances on her, whatsoever. He remained a professional at the firm, and now that they were outside of their busy work environment, he was on his best behavior; the perfect gentleman.
They made small talk while they finished their drinks.
“Shall we head back?” Gabriel asked.
“I just need to touch up my gloss. I’ll meet you at our seats.”
“I’ll wait for you here by the bar.”
“Okay.” She smiled and headed to the ladies room.
~oOo~
While Rachel was powdering her nose, her cellphone chimed, delivering a text. She opened the message, expecting it to be from Casey, and indeed it was… except Casey had not sent it.
Look who I’m sleeping with tonight 😉
Fresh hot tears began to haze Rachel’s vision as she stared at the photo, hands trembling. Casey’s secretary, Karen, was half naked, taking a “selfie” with her boss who was passed out in bed; the same bed Rachel shared with him every night.
I can’t believe he lied to me! That fucking asshole! She threw her cosmetics in her clutch and stormed out of the bathroom like a woman scorned.
Gabriel had many opportunities to pick up a few numbers, but out of respect for Rachel, he did not want to make her feel ignored, even though they weren’t dating. He noticed her approaching in the distance, looking visibly upset.
He paid his tab and got off the bar stool.
Rachel was now standing in front of him. “Did you know?”
Gabriel was disturbed to see the track marks of mascara that had smudged her foundation. He couldn’t understand why she was so distraught. “Know what?”
“That he’s been fucking his slut secretary all this time!”
“What?”
She thrust her phone in his face so he could see the photo.
“Are you in on it?” Her chest began to heave. “Is this your idea of being a good wingman? Trick the pathetic girlfriend and save your best friend’s ass while he empties his balls into another bitch’s cunt!”
“Whoa, hey now!” He raised his hands in mock surrender, shocked that she had used such vulgar language. “I’m not the enemy here. I had nothing to do with this. Casey called me saying that he had to work late. He pretty much begged me to meet you here—I had other plans.”
Of course he would beg, it’s not like you would volunteer to be in the same room as me!
“I can’t believe he would do this to me!” Rachel began to tear up. “I feel like a fool!” She turned to leave, but he caught her by the wrist.
“Where are you going?” Gabriel couldn’t hide his concern.
“Where do you think? I’m going to toss his shit out of our apartment, including him and his whore!” she tried to free her wrist, but he only yanked on it harder.
“Going home right now is the worst thing for you to do. I’m an amazing lawyer, but I honestly do not want to represent you in court and argue an insanity defense that would justify you killing your boyfriend—and his whore,” he added. “Moreover, criminal law is not my area of expertise.”
“I’m not going to kill them!” She was appalled that he would even draw such a conclusion. “Please let go of my wrist.”
“I will if you agree to come home with me.” The words had slipped out with such ease, as if he had been wanting to take her home for the longest time. Now, fate had presented Gabriel with the opportunity.
Rachel couldn’t find her words. It sounded as if he was proposing a night of steamy revenge sex. But she was certain that she had associated his offer to fucking, because of the sexy connotation in his voice.
“You’re my boss,” she reminded him.
“Not tonight, remember?” Gabriel softened his expression and his tone. “Tonight I am your friend, so let me be exactly that and take care of you, Rachel.” He sounded so genuine, and his aquatic green eyes were even more so.
A wistful smile touched her lips as she finally nodded and said, “Okay.”
Rachel had never really considered Gabriel to be her friend. He was always Casey’s best friend. Those two had constantly hung out without her, and for the longest while she was convinced that Gabriel hated her. The few times that she did go out with him and Casey, Gabriel seemed hell-bent on ignoring her, so she had resolved to subtract herself from future third wheel moments that would have only made her feel awkward.
But now, here they were on neutral ground, at long last. Rachel realized that the evening had not been a vendetta to humiliate her. This was not Gabriel’s intention, at least. It was quite the contrary, in fact. Casey was the devil himself, and the Angel Gabriel had come to her rescue. She was so thankful that he had.
MUSIC APPENDIX:
Samuel Barber-Adagio For String
Albinoni- Adagio in G minor
Ravel-Bolero
Author’s Note: If any of you are classical music lovers, definitely check out the songs in the chapter. They are very beautiful. As for chapter 4… What will happen when Rachel goes over to Gabriel’s condo? Will it be a night of friendly conversation and comfort? Or will Rachel give into temptation and seduce her boss again? Perhaps Gabriel will be the one to do so this time… And maybe, just maybe, he will find himself waking up next to his young and forbidden intern the following morning.
P.S. Thank you for all your votes and reviews! I so appreciate it.
