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New York Love Affair

By: GuadalupeCalderon



"Come on Loca...if that's even your real name!" Melanie said while pushing the dress into my arms. 

"No, that's what you call me. Come on, I'd like to go to a place where I don't get in trouble because of you." I rolled my eyes trying to hand the dress back to her.

"We've never even been in this part of town! They don't know who we are. For all these people know we are some old prick's young tenderonies." This time Melanie positioned me so I was facing the mirror. I couldn't help but laugh. My uncle used the word 'tenderonie' when describing the younger women he started courting since my aunt passed away some time ago.

"Look how good this dress looks on your skin. What people would do to have your body," Melanie stated as she pressed the fabric against my skin.

"I don't need to look like a hooker to be pretty, and what's the point of getting prepped like a turkey, so these rich white people can look at us as if we're some sort of meat?" I felt the fabric in my fingers. The dress was nice.

"Last I checked, the turkey is the best part of the Thanksgiving meal," she shot back, yet still made sure she carefully applied her make-up in the mirror. Sometimes I wished I was bold and adventurous like her. The dress she was wearing fit her petite figure as if it was custom made instead of being out of season fashion handout from when she was working at a department store outlet last year. Her skin gave off a bright gold glow, and her hypnotic emerald eyes and the long chocolate wavy hair that fell down her back could make anyone think she was Miss Latin America. No one ever believed me when I explained that she was my half-sister. The ironic thing was that my father came straight from the motherland, Colombia, while her father was born and raised in Miami, yet my father is un Moreno (so instead of his ancestors being from Spain they were brought to the New World as slaves from Africa), neither of us look one thing short. I'm not the color of café con leche like my mother or even brown skinned like many African-American are. If you want to talk chocolate, I'd most definitely be dark chocolate. The only thing that might give away my heritage is my bronze eyes and lengthy, jet black loose curls. 

"Last I checked, the Thanksgiving turkey is fed and treated like gold until that dreadful season comes and they are shown just how much people appreciate their species," I said. I grabbed the dress and walked into the stall with it to get dressed. I guess couldn't resist.

"You do this every time Reina!" Melanie laughed at my submission. "You refuse and really have me believing that you're not gonna' go through with my schemes, and then you throw some intellectual bullshit and give in." She was right. I did always give in to her schemes, but that was because she was all I had left here. The rest of my family was in Miami or Colombia, because the north was far too cold for them, even after I tried to explain to them that surprisingly, New York can get really hot in the summer and at times has the perfect climate. The only other family member that took the risk of 'freezing to death' here in was my grandmother. 

Since I was not the most sociable of girls, good friends didn't come around like flies to a blue light. But Melanie-- in high school she was prom queen during her junior year and Homecoming queen in her senior year. In contrast I was just the bookworm, honestly not even that. Don't get me wrong I was in the top five percent of my class, but I was no salutatorian. After realizing I didn't fit into my school environment outside of being the joke in everyone's conversation or that 'weird' kid , I worked really hard to be eligible for a scholarship to NYU. 

At the time I was living with my father in Colombia again, so the only way to be able to go to the school without paying out of state or in my current case, international fees was if I lived with my grandmother in Spanish Harlem for a while. Considering I was the odd ball anyway, I thought I might as well be the new kid where I'd somewhat have an excuse. After my grandmother signed me up to a public high school, I found a place for New York in my heart. 

In all honesty kids will always be cruel no matter where you go and I still was bullied. One group of girls held me down and cut off my ponytail (I was later told that this was because a boy that one of the girls liked complimented me on my hair), but unlike in Colombia, there were a lot of other kids like me, misfits. I tended to hang out with the kids that only listened to indie rockers and underground artists or if we went over someone's house to watch a movie on a Friday night, the movies tended to be something straight from the Sundance Channel. Two years later I had graduated and am now nineteen, most of my friends had moved to LA in the hope of making it or going to universities that were out of my reach. Considering I didn't have a car and little money, all I had left was to go to work and pay bills and save for school.

I may have always had to work hard to get where I am, yet Melanie and I were always at opposite ends of the spectrum. Her father owned a company that produced a knock-off version of the Cuban cigar and owned a prosperous night club that many celebrities made appearances at back in Miami, so he was wealthy enough to give his cielto linda (beautiful sky) anything she'd ever want, unlike my father who worked multiple jobs (including some that weren't even legal) just to make sure I had what I needed. The only reason Melanie even did any sort of labor in New York was, because her father kicked her out for the time being after catching her in the act of one of her foollproof schemes.

I was never really a party-goer, or at least not to the kind of parties that Mel liked. I liked the classic get-togethers where everyone could sit back and listen to nice music, talk, have heart-to-heart conversations, and maybe even the parties where you can actually just dance, and not Melanie's idea of a party, where anything goes, articles of clothes tended to come off, and a taxi driver almost always had to be called because she was not able to safely drive anymore, yet that was the only type of party she liked.

After I put the dress on, I walked out of the stall and stood next to my sister to see myself in the mirror. "Sometimes it's hard to believe you're four years older than me," I sighed.

"Not with those tetas! ¡Ay Mios! Look at those things. I can't believe you hide them. What are they 32C?!" She gestured towards my chest; the dress I wore did anything but cover them. I blushed

"32D." 

Mel looked from her size 28B breasts and back towards me before we both died laughing.

"Okay, can we go now?" I pleaded.

"Well, I'm not going to force you to straighten your hair, but there's no way this is going to work if you don't let me touch up your face, and PLEASE wear those shoes I got you for your birthday the other year."

I took a deep breath. Boy, this was going to be a long night.

John

"Would you like to taste some of Master Bridge's collection? It's imported straight from France." The waiter offered me a glass. I nodded my head and accepted his offer without hesitation. The day had been more than simply rough. I thought I'd be happy earlier in the day when I heard the position of president was being filled. There was no doubt I was on the top of the list, but on such days I questioned if I even wanted it. When Phillip Bridges called me into the office to fire ten people, I thought maybe I'd enjoy it, because I love being in control; however, the look on each of their faces when I told them the news was more than enough to make me feel like quitting. I instead went to the party Phillip throws every month, blowing enough cash to send one of those poor victims' children to college for four years for no more reason than because he can.

The moment I lowered the glass from my lips, I noticed two women walking in. Without doubt they didn't fit in at this particular party. It wasn't because they were minorities, because working in the corporate world you tend to notice that such tokens are always needed, but these women wore bright tropical colors when this was a specifically black and white gathering. The room's volume began to lower as everyone's attention shifted from their business conversation to observe the women. 

"Dammit Mel! I knew something like this was going to happen," I heard one whisper to the other. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. These were party crashers.

"Pardon me ladies; may I have your invitations?" A security guard must have caught on too. Both girls responded with a deer-in-headlights look. The shorter one with green eyes began searching through her purse as if such an invitation was there, but even I knew there was none.

"It's okay. They're with me," chimed in Phillip. 

There was no hiding the lust on his face. It wasn't just him, but many of the men in the room stared longingly at the pair. The majority of those at the event, with the exception of the help, were above the age of thirty-five. I myself was considered young at the age of thirty-seven. Most of the younger, attractive women were taken by the more possessive jealous men, including Phillip's twenty-eight year old wife. Phillip then approached me, the girls shadowing him.

"John, I'd like you to meet..." Phillip winked at me as if there was a secret between us. I ignored the gesture, because I wanted to appear completely different from Phillip.

"Melanie Lara de la Torre," the small, olive skinned one purred her Spanish accent at us, "and this is Reina Guadalupe," she continued, gesturing beside her. 

My eyes went to the other girl. Although her face looked more innocent and pure, her bright eyes held something more, something deep. I stared into them, and they reminded me of a wolf. There was no denying she was beautiful, but her edgy eyes in contrast with her shyness began to catch fire in my groin. Her body was gorgeous too. I noticed how she crossed her arms over her exposed cleavage, and that every passing man made sure he glanced down at her. My eyes lowered as I took in the sight of her waist and hips. Man, she would be perfect to hold on to while riding my-- .

"John!" By the expression on everyone's face I could tell it wasn't the first time he had called my name. "Come on. Melanie was just saying how we should spice the party up with some shots. What do you think?"

"Yeah, " I nodded, but my attention went straight back to Reina. I had never felt such a yearning for a woman, but there was something about her that wasn't like other women.

Reina

The night had transpired just as I expected. I was hoping that we would get kicked out when the security guard asked for our invitations, but of course we didn't and every man in the building was pushing each other out of the way to take a shot from Mel's bellybutton while her dress was hiked around her ribs, exposing way more than I'd be comfortable with in public. Although I wasn't as much of a participant as she was, I felt like a sleazy stripper at a bachelor party. I felt even worse when the other women looked at us with pure disgust. 

Guys chanted and urged one man on while he took what seemed like the hundredth suck from Melanie's belly. Then she sat up and grabbed him by the tie and pulled his mouth to hers. No one made a sound as the men watched yearningly. That's when I felt the burracho behind me pull me against him. His erection pressed roughly against my behind. 

"Hey sexy. How much for a night?" His touch made my stomach churn. What a bastard!

"Let me go!" I demanded.

"Come on baby," his grip got tighter on me as I tried to struggle free. "I just want to have some fun like your friend."

His grasp was too tight for me to break free. I scanned the room hoping Mel would see me, but instead she was focused on a new drinking game that had started up. Just when I was about to scream, I had a new idea. I took the glass of wine that had been offered to me and that I had yet to take a sip from and tossed it towards the guy's face. 

He ripped the strap on my dress when snatching his hands away from me, lurching forward and grabbing his face.

"You bitch!!" he shrieked. The dark wine didn't just hit his face but all of his white suit as well. "Walter! Get this fucking bitch out before I do!"

For the second time in the evening all the people in the room had their eyes on me.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to leave!" the security guy informed me.

I looked back to Melanie who stared at me in shock.

"What happened?" Melanie stumbled off of the table and pulled down her dress, and then took one glance at the man with the wine dripping from his hair to his jacket. "Damn Ray, what did you do? I think you were supposed to drink that." She laughed to herself, and then turned to the large security guy and said, "If she can't stay then neither can I."

"Okay," the security man responded simply. The men groaned and began to complain.

"It's fine Mel. I'll just catch a cab back. Stay. I really wasn't in the mood to party anyway," I assured her. She reluctantly walked back to the group of men. I made sure I slammed the door when I left. 

"Hey, wait up!" One man from the party followed behind me. I stopped walking and looked at him.

"What?" I sighed. These rich guys didn't know when to quit. I may not have mace but this peppermint breath spray will have to do for tonight, I thought as I clutched my purse.

"That was quite the show back there," he joked.

"Well, for all of my effort I'm the only one who got kicked out." 

"Considering the man wearing the wine lives in that house, I'm surprised he didn't call the police."

"What? Gosh, I'm so stupid! I don't normally do things like that. That's Melanie not me. What was I thinking?" I slapped my forehead. 

The man laughed. 

"Here, you may want to put this on." He passed me his blazer. I looked down at the front of my dress which was starting to sag without the support of the strap that was ripped.

"Thanks, but I'm just trying to catch a bus." I handed it back to him.

"Well the only bus around here is a good mile or two away, and at this hour I don't think your plan would work out anyway," he said, draping his coat around my shoulders and leading me to the door of a black Bentley.

"I appreciate what you're doing, but I don't ride in cars with complete strangers."

"I'm John Kent and I do believe you're Reina Guadalupe, so I guess we're acquainted now." He opened the car door which swung up like the wings on a butterfly.

"Well..." I looked into his eyes. Damn! They were sexy, and put Melanie's to shame.

"Is that a Scottish accent I catch?" I tried to be myself this time. He looked insulted by my words.

"I was born in Ireland and please, I would claim to be an American any day before saying I'm Scottish. What about you lassie? That's not your everyday New Yorker accent."

I smiled. Okay, this guy couldn't be a complete axe murderer since he was Irish. Or maybe he could. I didn't know. Something did seem dangerous about him, but in the hot way.

"Okay I'll let you drive me."

******

John

"I was born in Miami, but I moved back and forth from there and Colombia," the young woman informed me. Reina never looked at me; instead, she was fixated with the view outside the car window.

"Left or right?" I asked her when we stopped at a red light.

"Right. Do you know your way to Harlem?"

I nodded, although I wasn't sure if she was looking at me or not.

"I live on 110th street."

We continued to drive in silence. Although I wasn't going to say anything to her, Harlem wasn't the most prosperous borough in New York. Personally, I like the Bronx better, and for anyone who lives in New York, many may argue. During my first years here I'd been mugged or jumped on my way to a part-time job where I worked as an errand boy, and after finally ditching the job I made a personal decision to avoid the place. When we reached Harlem there was nothing but winos and druggies on the street. I had been given enough warnings from friends not to stop at stop signs at this hour of the night. If there was a night for me to get car-jacked, tonight would probably be it.

Reina sat up.

"You see that building coming up on the corner?" She pointed down towards the end of the street. "I live there."

I wanted to turn the car around and offer that she to stay the night with me. There was a homeless man sleeping at the foot of the steps outside her building, and the bodega opposite her building was surrounded by men talking loudly. I looked towards my glove box, knowing that I kept a gun inside for protection. This time the protection wouldn't be just for me but for her too. Wait! I barely even know this girl. Why am I thinking in such extremes? I'm just dropping her off.

"Would you like me to walk you to your flat?" I began to think of all the horrible things that could happen to her when I looked back at the group of men, who were taking glances towards my car. 

"No. It's okay. I know a lot of those men anyway." She'd followed my glances. "And really, I appreciate the ride."

"Any time."

We stared at each other for a long moment. I inched forward, closer to her. My lips were so close to her that I could feel her breath on them. Damn! I just met her tonight. I tried to play off my attempt by unbuckling her seat belt, and popped the door open. I could feel her eyes burning through me. 

"Goodnight," she said, and I felt her lips press against my cheek before she climbed out and rushed up the stairs. She turned back and looked at me before she went inside.

Damn what is this woman doing to me? I wanted to follow her up those steps, but decided against it with the way the men were eyeing my car. I should've gotten her number. Instead, I made sure my doors were closed all the way and locked before I drove off. 

********

Reina

"Haha! So you threw a drink on him!" Daphne laughed harder.

"Yeah, those stains will never come out." I tried to hide my smile while filling my coffee mug with cream.

"Nice! That jerk deserved it!" Daphne exclaimed as she grabbed her papers from the copy machine. "Hands down your weekend was wilder than mine."

"No. I'm pretty sure Evil Kenieviel wouldn't even eat your cooking." I grabbed my mug and exited the teacher's lounge.

"Trust me, my husband never lets me forget it. I called and told him I was cooking, but when he comes home his arms are filled with takeout bags." She rolled her eyes at the flashback. "Well, forget my problems. Don't you have Room 219 again?" 

I nodded.

Although I got accepted to NYU and received a scholarship, it didn't include housing and books, plus after arriving in New York, I learned Abuela was on the verge of getting evicted, so I got two jobs, one as a substitute teacher in public schools in the area and another working as a waitress. Neither had the ideal pay, but they were enough to get by on.

It wasn't until after substituting that I grew a love/hate relationship with children. Being at a youthful age didn't help either. Many students treated me as their equal, which could turn on me. My first day, no child took me seriously when it came to discipline, and unfortunately I was continually placed to substitute in the local junior high school, where conveniently I made friends with a 7th grade teacher, Daphne Willows, but on the negative side, almost every time I was appointed to be in this school I had to substitute in the worst of the worst classes, Room 219.

Most times when I returned I was informed that their teacher had quit yet again. At first I felt remorse for the kids, but in time I realized that if any teacher spent the whole year with these gremlins they should receive a medal. The children always complained about doing even the slightest amount of work, and they make it their job to get under someone's skin. I was no exception. 


New York Love Affair Ch. 02



**John**

I twirled my pen over and over again. Although I knew I was supposed to be filling out the stack of paper that seemed to continue getting higher in the corner of desk, my mind had yet again drifted back to her. I didn't know how to feel. I was angered that she had tossed me aside this easily and had yet to return my calls after a week. My mind wrapped around our last night together, and the intensity behind it. 

There was a passion in it that I had yet to have with anyone else. I had been more ready to release than any other time I'd been with a woman. There was a glisten in her eyes that was filled with more than need and want, but something more innocent. It was almost like she was teaching me a new language and I had yet to learn the word that her eyes were screaming to me. This moment like many others, as my mind reflected that pure moment I could feel the burn in my groin. My eyes shut tightly together as I leaned back in my office chair and sighed. 

I didn't know whether to hate her for putting me through this grief or to appreciate her stubbornness. I eyed my office door. Many of my coworkers had been trying their best to avoid me, for I wasn't in the best of moods, not that I usually am in the most cheer. My palm grasped my tool and my eyes shut again. I could feel all of the tension that I had carried around all run to the bottom half of my body as I lie restless like a corpse, my palm massaging deep into my groin. How I wished that my fingers were instead grabbing those lovely locs that they had once ran through. Her lips, they were full yet petite as if cupid had carved them with his bow. My grasp tightened even harder when I remembered her plea for me not to go. Last, I thought of that look one more time before I let out a long groan. Her name escaped my lips.

"Fuck!" I snapped under my breath when I saw the stain beginning to emerge on my slacks. I retrieved the emergency pair I had contained in the closet. Just when I sat back down from changing, the temp announced on the intercom in my office that my boss would be entering.

"Well if it isn't John Boy!" his voice irritated me even more than normal.

"I haven't heard much from you this week. You must not be feeling too well," he suggested.

"Yea," I said almost sarcastically.

"I hope it doesn't last too long, would hate for you not to be here when the new position is announced."

I snapped my pen in half under the desk. If he mentioned that damn position one more time I could promise I would go on a rampage.

"Yeah I would just hate that," I mumbled through clenched teeth.

"Just came to give you some files, but I think you may need the day off," he insinuated.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I don't want whatever you have to spread."

"No sir, wouldn't want that." I grabbed my briefcase to leave.

Lauren stared at me blankly as I slammed my office door. I just had to heartlessly fire fifteen more employees this week, fifteen more hard workers, who just happened to be selected. When my boss gave me a hearty pat on the shoulder before my lunch break, after advising me to do this I knew not only did I need to go home, but as soon as I got outside I took a long drag of two cigarettes back to back, something I haven't done since my youth.

**Reina**

My sister Melanie doesn't visit my Grandmother too often. She only comes in the times she is absolutely desperate for a place to crash. Based upon the pattern of men that she dates they'll get what they want from her, and have a fun time, but once the fun and games are over, she always ends up here with Abuela making her a fresh torta with a cup of homemade hot chocolate, that taste nothing like the packaged powder crap that the stores sell. Unlike most occasions her new lover had to 'just work out some things with child support with his ex', which gave Melanie sometime to burn until he was finished in the later evening. 

Outside of my early childhood, I never had much times to just talk to her without being caught up in one of her scandals my older sister besides tonight. Today as soon as I got off, I didn't just come home to Abuela yelling at the television as she watched her scheduled telenovelas, but there was some mambo music playing loudly. I almost turned back around and walked out, because I assumed that my grandmother was there with her boyfriend, and I wanted to avoid seeing anything that would ruin how I viewed her, but then I noticed that the other voice I heard in the room was feminine. When I walked further, I realized that Abuela wasn't playing hanky panky, but was actually dancing and laughing with Melanie.

"Oye Reinita," Melanie greeted between giggles.

"Hey," I greeted as I walked past them to the kitchen. Dinner hadn't been started. I walked over to the refrigerator, knowing that I would have to be the one to put something together for the night. Just my luck, an empty fridge. 

"Ama, you didn't stop by the store?"

"Eh, ahora no tengo dinero," I have no money. Abuela stated while not messing up her steps.

"Don't stress it Reina, we can stop by the store before I leave." Melanie suggested.

The song began to fade and Melanie broke her stride to go over and turn the radio down.

"My shoes are by the door, let's go. Ama will you be fine with going to mass all by yourself today?"

Abuela through a hand at us while, and mumbled how she'd be fine.

We walked swiftly down the next few blocks to the store. I decided to make a simple dish that contained just rice, peas, and chicken although Melanie insisted that she should pay for the groceries, but how could I accept the offer when I knew that her current boyfriend gave her an allowance like some little kid.

"So who's this guy Ama has been telling me about.?" She finally spoke up.

"Hmm?" 

"Come on don't play dumb. She told me he calls for you daily, and just last week he took you out.

I sighed.

"He's just a kind guy who gave me a ride home."

" A ride or a ride?" Melanie teased.

" Mios Reina have you even given up your goods yet?" she laughed. 

"Shh... You're speaking so loud," I hushed.

"Well, have you?" she whispered

"No, que asco!" 

"Just asking. From the sounds of it, you must've made some impression though," she said suspiciously.

"P-pues, quizas," I stuttered. 'W-well perhaps.'

I quickly hurried inside of the store. When I turned to glance at my sister, I saw her jaw had dropped.

"You're keeping something out," she accused.

"Que! No I am not."

"Mentirosa. You were always a bad liar Reina. You always start to stutter and give short responses. Dime. Tell me what happened."

The store was pretty empty, but still decided to whisper in her ear about the events that had transpired that one night. When I finished my tale Melanie looked shocked.

"Carray on the first date? Haha I always knew we were related. You had to inherit some traits from Mama."

"Yo no se. I'm embarrassed that I even let that happen."

"And that's why you won't return his calls?"

"I mean he's a nice guy and all, but—"

"Chinga! Reina you worry too much, if not with work with school, and if not with those two, with Abuela. I think you need to do this and just have some fun for a chance. Sometimes I worry that you'll burn yourself out or turn to a prune or something."

I didn't respond. We'd finished gathering all of our groceries for the night made our way to the counter. The cashier was a young Middle Eastern guy. Melanie took one glance at him with her glistening green eyes and leaned over the counter and tossed her hair to the side, so that it rested on her shoulder. The man took glances between her and the register as he rung up our items. After everything was paid for the total was half of what it should have been. Before we exited he winked at her.

"Melanie sometimes I wish that I had the magic you and Mama have over men," I sighed.

"Oooh but you do.."

***John**

It was my third time passing her building. No doubt there was no way me telling my chauffer to round the block over and over looked good on my part. For the people out looking in, it most likely looked as if there was going to be a shootout, and for my chauffer it may have seemed as if I was just testing his patience, and running up his gas. By the sixth time passing Reina's home, I considered maybe I'm simply just crazy. I'd never been so angry at a woman, yet desiring her to such an extent. She's making me crazy.

"Hey Edy, I need you to make a stop in Maspeth, Queens."

After a while of driving, we finally pulled up outside of the butcher shop. You could already smell the rotten meat from outside. I took no time in getting out and getting inside, giving the driver the strict instructions of waiting for me. When I opened the door a bell ringed to signal that a customer had entered.

"Hey Beauty, where's the beast?" I teased Ginger, the owner's wife who walked out from around the back of the shop.

"Hello, John. He's out back, with Patrick unloading some of the new stock. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you went back to greet 'em," Ginger replied cheerily, while placing out a fresh platter of pastries for sale.

I started to walk past the counter on to the back where Leon was located, before Ginger stopped me.

"Here, take one" she demanded as she passed me a fresh crispy baked good, "you're getting mighty thin. We need to find you a woman to thicken you up."

I smiled when I remembered how Reina slipped me a napkin of her grandmother's cooking. 

In the back was something, most people living in a big city don't get to experience—a true butcher shop. There was blood across the floor, dried and fresh alike. The aroma was no more pleasant then sniffing your own infection. Out back I noticed Patrick and his father unloading a delivery truck. There was no denying that Patrick was Leon's son, beside his mother's strawberry blonde hair he was the spitting image of his father. I lit a cigarette and stood aside and watched while they worked to get the large shipments down the wedge. As I listened to the guidance given to Patrick by his old man, I felt a deep heat envelope my body. It was a feeling that wasn't foreign to me—envy.

When it comes to making my career my entire life, I am guilty as charged. Then again, no matter how nice my home may be too many, there's nothing too special about coming home to a place that is completely empty. One of the worst things I can think about it is the lack of home cooked meals. Although my mother didn't so much as lift a pot back home I remember my nanny use to make every single meal from scratch, and I remember the days when I would come home from a long day at school to be greeted with a warm welcoming aroma that actually defined home.

Something not one penny of the money I had could truly buy me is a wife that loved me unconditionally like Ginger. Both she and Leon went through a lot of stress putting everything they had in this butcher shop and through it all they look at each other is still the same as newlyweds. Nor would I be capable to raise a son the way Leon has, because my father wasn't much of a model to reflect on.

"Hey Big Guy!" Leon slapped my shoulder after plopping the box down in the corner." What brings us a visit from Mr. Bigshot today?"

"You guys have the best soda bread in all of New York," I gestured at the roll in my fist, "so I thought I'd stop by before I went off to wrap the night up at the office."

He studied me for a moment. 

"Patrick, go grab us some drinks why don't 'cha."

As soon as his son scurried off, I saw a smirk twitch in the corner of his lip.

"It's a girl isn't it?"

My brow rose. "What would make you say that?"

"Just taking a look atcha. All I need to figure out is who," he stated simply. "Have I met her?"

I looked away.

"I may not know everything bout ya', but guessing from the bags under your eyes and the four o'clock shadow forming, you've been working even longer at that office to keep your mind busy, and don't tell me it's just been hectic there lately, because everything about you reeks of lovesickness," he chuckled.

"Just because you're married you think you can sense everyone in love?" I scoffed.

"It's like how people who have been in the military can tell other people who have been in the military just because they have been around it for so long..hmm...Can I take a wild guess at who it may be?"

"Shoot." 

"That girl who was under your arm at the pub the other night, ain't it?"

Before I could protest he tugged at my tie that was placed on the wrong way, so that the seam was exposed. 

"That mot of yours surely has you wrapped tightly around her fingers," he implied. "You weren't even drunk and I saw you dance. Ha. No broad you've ever escorted to the pub has yet to convince you to go through with that." 

I decided that there was nothing worth losing in talking.

"Leon... Have you ever been so drawn to a woman that it begins to dictate how you think?"

Leon laughed aloud to himself, before he realized I wasn't laughing with him.

"Don't tell me you are serious lad!" he slapped my shoulder, something I'm beginning to notice he always does to lighten the mood. When I didn't respond I could see the conversation didn't make him comfortable.

The only thing I could think to say is, "She's not like any other woman I'm around."

"Well obviously, you can see that just from looking at the lass. She must've given you sometime that night?" he inquired.

The awkward moment that was bound to occur again was postponed when Patrick returned with two bottles of malt.

"Thanks son," Leon stated and then took a swig of the bottle handed to him. And then the inevitable silence resumed. 

"Patrick, go help your mother in the shop," was all of the hint he need to leave the conversation.

"Continue, what was she like?" I could tell I grabbed his attention, for he even looked around to make sure his wife wasn't lurking anywhere around. 

"I don't know," I answered.

"What do you mean you don't know?!"

I sighed.

"We didn't really..." my voice faded.

"Didn't really WHAT? Get on with it," he pushed.

"I mean we kissed, and well she gave me a..." I rubbed my fingers across my mouth, and Leon automatically nodded in understanding.

"That's all?" he asked.

"Yeah, when I got up in the morning, she was gone."

"So was she married? Boyfriend?" Leon questioned as he took another gulp from the bottle.

I shook my head.

"Not that I know of... She was a virgin," I said close to a whisper.

He began coughing on the malt. 

"A what?" he began coughing uncontrollably and once it began to fade out of his system, he began to laugh hysterically.

"I must say, I was sitting here thinking that she was really a he or something," he wiped the tears forming at the crevices of his eyes from laughing so hard, "but a virgin, wow, so what are you going to do?" 

For the first time, my anger started to arise, and I threw the glass bottle against the wall.

"I don't know, I mean, I've been trying to contact her, but she hasn't been returning my calls, and every time her grandmother answers, she says what I assume is that she's at work or some bullshit."

"She didn't even give you some tail, and you still call the next morning. You must really like her."

"Don't listen to my husband," Ginger stated while stepping out from the back door that led to the alley. We probably wouldn't have ever noticed her, because our view was blocked by the truck that was being unloaded earlier.

"How long have you been there dear?" Leon questioned surprised.

"Long enough," she replied matter of factly.

"I just don't get it. No woman has ever given me this problem before." I rubbed my temple.

"All of this trouble over a blowjob—" Leon started before his wife cut him short.

"Eh-hm, last I remembered Leon, you wouldn't leave me alone until gave you some time of day," she shot.

"Really now?" I instigated. This made me smile.

"Yeah, the first time I met him, I was courting another fellow, but that didn't keep Leon from confronting me with some of the craziest pick-up lines," she laughed as she remembered her first encounter with her husband.

"I gotta hear this," Patrick emerged from the door and turned a crate upside-down in order to sit while he heard the tale.

"Oh come on now Ginger, don't bore them with this old story," Leon was turning bright red.

"That was the funny thing, they weren't even entertaining, like here's one I'll never forget, I was walking home after getting some groceries, and he stopped me, and said 'Did you happen to drop this?' and held up a flower."

"But guys give women flowers all of the time. Hell we should've opened a florist shop , we'd really rack in some money," Leon cut in.

"No but what made it so awful, is he didn't even buy the flower ," Ginger continued.

"Don't tell me he picked it from the ground," Patrick laughed.

"Even worse, he picked it from my neighbor's window plant, and it had a spider on it, so when he realized that, I didn't even get a chance to grab it, before he dropped it and started screaming and running away like a little lass. Comes to find out later, that he was allergic! Broke out in rashes and hives all over! "

"Well, in the end I did catch ya'. You visited me at home until I recovered," he stated.

"Wow, how old were you all, twelve?" I chuckled.

"No he was twenty-two," she informed.

We all began to laugh.

"Are you serious?" Patrick croaked between each laugh.

"See John, this is why you should appreciate being single, because your family just gangs up on ya'," Leon said angrily.

"Oh relax, honey, you got me in the end," Ginger wrapped her arms around him and pecked his cheek.

"But my point is, John, as sad as Leon's advances were, he ended up being the love of my life, so you should try stop by today, if she's not home, than maybe she missed out on something good, but a little persistence doesn't harm anyone." 

***Reina***

I just finished applying a glistening clear polish over the ruby red polish on her pinky finger. That was the last of the ten.

"Gosh Reina sometimes I forget you are an artist," she complimented as she examined her finger nails. "When can I make my next appointment?

I looked at her and laughed knowing that this wouldn't last long. Whoever she'd have parading on her arm would pay for her to look nice on their shoulder, so there would be no need to have me paint her nails.

"So are you going to keep your nails like that or are you going to remove it as soon as I leave?" Melanie asked gesturing to the coral colored tint on my nails. I smiled for I was thinking the same thing about her.

Before I could get the words "I love it sis," out of my mouth her phone started to ring. She held her finger out to signal to give her moment. 

"Hey Papi! Yeah I can do that. Love ya'!" She clicked the phone shut.

"Well Reinita it's about that time..." Melanie got up and started to gather her things.

"Wait the chickens about done, and I just have to mix it with the rice," I stood up to go after her.

It's okay sweetheart , I think he's taking me out , but it smells good." With that said she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and was out of the door. 

I shrugged it off, and went into the kitchen to finish preparing supper.

Everything was mixed nicely and warming on the stove. I sighed. Although I cooked a generous amount, I'd probably be eating alone since Abuela would most likely be eating at the church while she was out at mass tonight.

Before I could get a chance to sit back down the doorbell rang.

"What did you leave this time Mel!" I questioned before while I began to unlatch the locks. When I opened the door my heart skipped a beat...It wasn't Mel. 

"Oh hey," I whispered softly.

***John***




New York Love Affair Ch. 02



"Well hello there," I greeted while leaning against the door frame.

I took no time to observe her small figure. Although the gown at the party made her chest out to look more than generous, the oversized soccer jersey she was sporting that barely covered her bum made her look model petite. Her hair was in a mash of a bun with loose curls that hung freely around her face one drooped down her forehead atop her dainty nose. I couldn't resist but to tuck it behind her ear. After studying her reaction I couldn't help but to laugh. Some people just assume that blushing is the red pigment that people turn, but when it comes to people like Reina who trying to see a change in color isn't very likely, it can be like a body language.

The crackle in the sky turned my attention away from her for a brief moment.

"So are you going to invite me in, or are you going to leave me out here in the rain?"

I could see a brief hesitancy before she moved out of the way of the entry, and I followed her inside.

"Mm.. what does your grandmother have cooking today?" I whiffed the aroma.

"I just put on a small dinner while she went away to mass."

"Ah, so you're Catholic?"

She ignored my question and pranced into the kitchen to turn to the stove to stir something and click the dial off. I walked behind her to observe the contraption. When she turned back around she jumped backwards.

"Carray! Are you always soo.. uh!"

"So what? Curious to why a woman would just get up and leave the way you did?"

She couldn't look me in the eye once before she went and grabbed some bowls down from the cabinet.

"Are you joining me for dinner?"

"You don't have to be embarrassed. We are both adults here," I pressured while grabbing the bowl of what looked like rice casserole.

"Do you always follow girls who are trying to rid of you?" she stated to me after I shoved big spoonful n my mouth.

I swallowed.

"Well seeing that so far we have just been answering questions with another question, I'll let you know that no, I do not follow girls around, because I thought you were a woman, but I'm not so sure at this point, because you like to play these silly games of hide and go seek. ." After stating that I, began to compliment on her cooking.

I could tell the statement I made bothered her but she didn't say anything and continued eat. Besides the clanking of silverware against our bowls not a sound was made. 

"Did you get your job back at that restaurant?"

She shook her head no.

"What do you do now?

"I still substitute when I can get a gig, but I haven't been able to make up for the other job yet, but a friend of my grandmother wants me to get a job as a housekeeper at the motel she's working." 

"Is that what you want to do?"

"Sometimes it's not always about what you want to do." Reina sighed as she took her bowl to the sink and began to walk away.

I took the last couple of bites and realized that it was the first time that I had a home cooked meal in a good few years. I placed the dishes in the sink and went after her down to the room located at the end of the hallway. If I thought that her living room was humble than her bedroom was just poor charity. Her only furniture was a futon and a night stand. The only decorations were family photo graphs and a few articles in Spanish. I couldn't tell what her comforter was like because her bed was covered in books and notebooks. 

"You're in school?"

"Yes, a sophomore."

"What are you studying?"

"Marketing and Graphic Design."

"Ah, a nerd.

"Yes"

I grabbed a notebook sitting atop of the pile and began to flip through it. To my surprise instead of each page being graffitied with notes, it was filled with sketches. Her technique was realistic, but each image was surreal. In one I noticed there was an image of a tree, but when I looked closer, it was a pregnant woman grasping her stomach. Skipping to the back of the book to see what she may have drawn the most recent. My eyes shot up to her immediately.

"Is this me?"

Reina turned to figure what I was talking about. Her expression immediately changed as she snatched the pad out of my hands. I had to laugh. It was obvious that the portrait was of me, but while the man in the picture had my exact face, she depicted me as having fangs and biting into a heart.

"So you have been thinking of me," a chuckle escaped my mouth.

I couldn't tell whether she was angry or embarrassed.

"So I'm a monster to you, eh?"

"That night never should've happened," she mumbled under her breath.

"Just if I remember correctly, I tried to stop us from going any further, and guessing from how into it you were, I don't believe you didn't want us to."

Reina put her hand up to cut me off, her body heaving with anger.

"Yes you are a sick sadistic monster. Who probably always gets what they want, and demands anything that he can't have!"

It was at that moment that I began to laugh.

"And you know what I think you like that!" I barked as I made small strides towards her, while she stepped back.

"WHAT?!"

Reina was now against the wall while I stood close enough to her that my nose could tap her forehead with a single breath. I tilted her head up so that our eyes were facing each other.

My voice softened. 

"Tell me you didn't and I'll leave."

Just as her lips parted to say so, I grabbed her and kissed her lips with all the force I had left in my body. She took hold of my neck as I wrapped her legs around my waist. As my teeth began to nibble at her neck, I caught gasp escaping each heavig breath. 

"You know I never got to return the favor the other night."

She blushed.

"John.."

Just Reina declaring my name was all the lead I needed, as I began to pull the jersey above her head. It was at that moment I stopped and stepped back. She was like a stone statue. I gazed at her boy shorts with cartoon characters across it and moaned. A beauty that gave hints of her purity. When she started to cover herself I grabbed her hands and lifted them above her head. She shivered with desire.

"Don't worry." I whispered into her ear. "I'm not going to take you quite yet. I want you to be ready when I do, but tonight I will make you mine."

I tugged her boyshorts down, and gasped at her mound that had yet to be touched by a razor. My fingers began to play with her moistening lips until I came across her clit. Just the simple touch made her moan loudly, but I wasn't going to stop there. I continued to roam her sex until I came into contact with her opening. I pressed a single finger against it until I had past the first knuckle. Then I felt it, her maidenhead. Reina's nails dug in my back when she jumped at the intrusion.

"Shhhh... I promise that you'll like it."

I continued to press deeper. The tight pressure of her sex trying to push me out was enough to make me want to take her now. I pushed until I reached the last knuckle of my finger. Reina at this point was breather very heavily. I began to work my finger inside of her, and with each thrust, it felt as if she were getting tighter. I looked up into her eyes, and found the gaze that I had been fantasizing for so long. I sped my pace up and Reina's moans got louder. I kissed her lips when I started to curl my finger inside of her. I must've hit the spot I needed because she started to scream against my lips. I felt her contractions against me which made my groin press hard against my pants. It wasn't until; I felt her juices running down my palm that I pulled out of her. She'd grown so weak that her corpse lifelessly slid down the wall until she reached the floor. I moved next to her.

It was quiet. She looked so defeated.

I kissed her forehead.

"I never had that happen to me before." She said so softly I barely heard her.

"How'd you like it?"

"You taste like an ashtray."

I laughed.

I turned and started to kiss her, our tongues twisting against each other. Then she stopped me and grabbed my hand that was on her shoulder.

"You're bleeding." She declared while examining my palm.

My eyes followed her gaze down between her legs, to a small trail of blood between her thighs.

"Well congratulations pet, you're not a virgin anymore." 



New York Love Affair



"Hey Ray-Baby!" shouted the worst of the bunch, Daniel. He was sitting on top of the teacher's desk, and when he spoke everyone quieted down to hear what he had to say.

"It's Reina or Ms. Guadalupe," I tried to say in my calmest voice, not letting them get to me.

"Mmmm, that dress fits you in all of the right places," he said, using his hands to gesture the outline of my body. His partner-in-crime Emmanuel laughed and gave him a high five. Wow, these boys start growing into perverted men earlier and earlier.

"Sit down in your desk now!" I ignored his comment. "Everyone take a seat in your own seat." Most of the students took one glance at me and rolled their eyes.

"Or what?" Rebecca, one of the sassier girls, started to challenge.

"I've tried warnings with this class, but they don't normally work, so today I decided to try something new," I kept my voice steady and monotone. "Today, your disobedience will gain you all a demerit."

The class got loud and most of the students began complain.

"Yo! I can't get any more demerits this semester!" Emmanuel began to puff.

"Then sit down, and you don't have to worry about getting one," I suggested.

All of the kids looked back at Daniel for his approval. He nodded his head. Everyone moved back to their seats. I sighed in relief. As I walked to sit at the desk the class began to snicker. When I looked up, I noticed Daniel's bottom plastered to the seat behind the teacher's desk. 

"Daniel, go to your seat now!" My anger began to show. 

"I am in my seat! This ain't yo' damn classroom, it's mine! So why don't you sit at that desk in the corner," he smirked. Like I said, he was a master at knowing how to get under people's skin.

I took a deep breath, and while I was at it, began to pray to silently to myself. God please give me the strength. I grabbed his arm. He was about to swing at me, but I saw that he was weighing in his mind whether he would of get away with it. 

I leaned down to his face, and stated in a snarl, "I'm going to get one of the administrators, and I don't want to hear another word from you." Then I began to weigh my chances of getting away with this. Of course this kid could swing at me and I had no doubt he wanted to. I couldn't let the fact that they were in middle school fool you. Give them another year or two, and a lot of them will be taller than me. Daniel was one of the ones that would likely be taller than me in three months, and seeing him at his worst in all of the school fights he'd been in, I had no doubt that I may not be a match for his gallant fist.

The room was quiet, which was very rare for me, and for the first time, I was able to hear the intercom. Beep! "Mrs. Guadalupe, we have a call for you on line 6!" The whole class began to say their Ooooooo's .

"Thank you, and excuse me, can I get an administrator down to room 219, also," if I was in trouble, there was no way I was going to do down without bringing him with me. The lady on the intercom hesitated, before finally agreeing.

******

John

When I dropped that beautiful woman off the night before, I couldn't even think straight. I was like a love struck teenager; the last thing I could do was sleep. I kept rolling her name off of my tongue. Damn! If she only knew how much she was beginning to have me wrapped around her finger! I kept thinking of the night and the eventsthat had transpired. Her delicious pouty lips, the way her eyes made my blood boil, and especial the way that tight dress fitted her curvy body all made my exhausted body too anxious to go to sleep. Then I remembered that sexy cleavage. It was so hot the way her breast bounced when she got into the car or the way they moved with her every breath.

I was no virgin. I'd had my way with quite a few women, and being wealthy, you'd be surprised how many women throw themselves at you in hope of getting some of the wealth, but her—she was different. I could tell by those eyes. I could read her eyes like a book. I could tell she didn't like being at the social night before, and even more, that she wasn't impressed by me. She hadn't really checked me out, and when she didn't even so much as gasp at my car, I knew for sure that she didn't care.

I eventually went to sleep that night, my dreams centered on her, and they were anything but innocent. I woke up in sweats. I took one glance down to see the biggest morning wood I've seen since my high school days. Fuck, that means one of two things; I could jerk off real quick, or take a cold shower. Wait a second! Where's my alarm! Every day, I woke up to the alarm on my phone, and even more so, to the call I always got from the office temp asking if I wanted her to pick me up any breakfast or a black coffee. Where the hell is my phone? This had never happened before. 

Before I could even think to destroy my apartment looking for my life in an electrical box, I had an epiphany. It was in my jacket pocket. Where the hell was my jacket? It wasn't in my closet. The valet confirmed it was not in my car. Wait; I didn't have time for this! I was just going to have to get a temporary replacement. 

My strides were large and quick as I made my way to my car. I wasted no time when getting ready to head to the office. Being late is not a good sign when I was trying to get the promotion I badly wanted. I had to tie my tie on the elevator. I just don't get it; my tie, shirt, and pants from last night were all in a pile in my bathroom, but not the jacket.

"Hey, Mr. Kent. I left you a black fresh brew on your desk and a blueberry muffin."

"God Laura! You know I fucking hate muffins!" I didn't mean to take my frustrations out on her. I could be surly in the office at times, but never to women, especially not Laura, because she was pregnant, and the last thing she needed was to be yelled at. 

"I tried calling, but this old Spanish woman picked up, and I didn't understand a word that was coming out of her mouth," she explained. Then it hit me. I had given my jacket to Reina the night before. She still had it.

"Call that number back, and connect me to it through my office phone," I demanded of Laura.

"Well, yes I can, but right now Bridges called. He wanted for you to be in the conference room almost ten minutes ago," Laura's reminded me. I was confused. Fuck! I had put all of my meetings in my phone, but there was no way to remember them without it.  

"Okay that's fine," I sighed ", but when I get out, I need you to make that call ASAP!"

When the conference was over, Phillip asked me to stay behind.

"Well John, it's not like you to be late. Compared to everyone in the whole building you're always early, including even compared to the custodians. What's going on?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Bridges, I just lost track of time this morning." I was ashamed.

"Ha, I thought we were already past this phase. My name is Phillip; just call me Phillip," he laughed to himself, " and don't think I'm stupid. I saw you walk out with that slut last night. Hell, if she hadn't thrown that drink on my son I may have hit it myself. Tell me John... did you show that little bitch?"

My teeth clenched. I wanted to cringe when he called her a slut, and punch him when he called her a bitch. This man had no respect. 

"Huh, John? Did she keep you up all night?" Phillip kept laughing to himself.

I had to smile to myself. If only he knew the half of it.

"That's what I thought you dirty rascal! That little friend of hers was quite the lay too, from what I was told by Mickey!" He praised me and patted my shoulder. "You know what? I've only said this to my son, but don't make the same mistake I did with getting married. The first wife I had tried to take me for all I had when she divorced me, and I don't doubt Elena will try to do the same, not to mention they try to ride your dick about being committed, as if that 21 caraet diamond ring wasn't enough. Hell I envy the two of you, no kids, still pretty young, and getting pussy for free. When I was your age I was married and had to pay for her to go shopping just to get a blowjob."

I bit my tongue. Even though I hated being compared to Phillip, I hated it even more when I was compared to his son. People always say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but Phillip's son Michael was even worse than his old man. He thrived off his father's fame and wealth, and it frustrated me knowing that he was also top of the list for possible candidates for president, just because of his father.

"I'm not going to hold you up, John, but don't make this tardiness a habit. I'd hate for you to miss out on any great opportunities because of it."

I nodded my head and left.

*******

Reina

After school I made sure I headed straight home, not that I wanted to linger at the school longer than my normal sentence. At first when I got the call from the office, I assumed that maybe some way or another someone had reported that the class was being disruptive, and sadly even though it's the children's behavior that is inappropriate, I was the one that couldn't get fired for not knowing how to handle them and not handling situations appropriately. 'Lucky' me it was just Abuela calling. It's always funny in a way when she called for me. She didn't speak English very well. Even when she was speaking the English she did know was always confused for Spanish or misunderstood, because of her thick accent.

The office had to get the school Spanish teacher to translate what my grandmother wanted, and finally they understood that she wanted to speak to me. Also, the Daniel situation was handled for the moment. I was happy, because without the fear of thinking my job was at jeopardy I might not have had the courage to go on with my bluff of not tolerating bad behavior.

When an administrator finally came to the classroom to take out the kids deemed as misbehaving, I picked up the phone glued to the wall, and dialed line six. My grandmother explained that she had found a man's jacket on the floor, and it wasn't my late grandfather's. A phone had been inside of the pocket ringing all day. The first time she answered, it was a woman, but the next time she answered it was a man. She hadn't understood too much of what he was saying, and came to the conclusion that maybe he was trying to make a move on her that or that it was a prank call. However, he kept repeating my name, so she knew that the call was for her. She'd also understood that the man was supposed to come by this day to get it. I then told her that I'd be home after three o'clock, and explained that she should tell the man that.

I felt butterflies flying everywhere in my stomach when I rode the subway a portion of the way home and then got onto the local bus to ride the rest of the way. I knew the jacket belonged to the man from last night. I tried to think about what he looked like, but all I could remember was his stunning eyes. When my bus stopped, I jogged up the stairs of my home and swiftly unlocked the door.

No one was there. Then my Grandmother came from around the corner of the hall with the jacket. 

"¿Ha encontrado a un marido?" Have you found a husband? She handed the jacket to me.

My grandmother was proud that I had an education, but never shied away from telling me she would have preferred if I was just married with a family.

"No Ama. Él sólo es un tío que conocí anoche," I tried to explain. No Ama. He's just some guy I met for the night.

"El mejor no han tocado o me aseguraré de que contrae matrimonio contigo," she shot back. He better not have touched you, or I'll make sure he marries you.

"No, no es así. Él simplemente me dio un aventón," I assured her. No, it's not like that. He simply just gave me a lift.

"Mmmhmm," she replied sarcastically, and walked back to the kitchen to finish cooking what she was working on for dinner.

The doorbell rang. My heart was about to beat its way out of my chest as I looked at it. My abuela complained all the way to the door as she went to answer it.

"Hello madam, is there a Reina Guadalupe here?" I recognized his voice, yet I scurried into the kitchen, so I wouldn't be noticed.

"Reina, consegue su culata de aquí, y no ser grosero," she commanded me. Reina, get your butt inside of here, and don't be rude!

I looked at the stove and grabbed some empanadas that Ama made earlier and wrapped them in a paper towel in my fist folding the jacket over my arm, so that it blacked the view. 

I walked into the TV room from the kitchen as my grandmother was passing me to do the opposite direction.

"¡Que` guapo! Él hará a niños hermosos." She commented before she left. How sexy. He'll make beautiful children.

"¡Silencio Ama!" I tried to hush her.

But my grandmother wasn't lying. Besides at his eyes, I didn't look at the man too much last night. He was handsome. His thicke dark hair was gelled and neatly cobed out of his face. He had dark thick eye brows that shadowed his eyes and gave him a bad boy type look. His chin was squared and his face perfectly chiseled. He wasn't freakishly buff nor tooth pick thin, but reasonably trim and lean.

The man looked from me to her confused.

"What did she say? He asked noticing my discomfort.

"Here, she just wanted me to return your jacket," I lied.

"I see."

"Look, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, and making you have to travel out of your way twice in less than twenty-four hours," I apologized.

"It's fine," he said sniffing the air, "What's that cooking? It smells good."

"That's my grandmother. She's making dinner. I'd invite you to stay, but I'll be leaving for work in a minute," I said ", unless you just want to eat here with her." 

"No thank you," he said.

I noticed he looked as if he might not trust our food, and although I wanted to get angry, I couldn't blame him. We kept our flat neat and tidy, but it still nothing was compared to the place where the party we met at was hosted in, and I had no doubt his place was just as nice.

"I mean the presentation is nothing artistic, but it taste really good," I looked at the apartment as if it were the first time I noticed it. We didn't have much furniture, and our TV was small and old, although we did make an effort to keep any dust from forming on it. The coffee table looked like it was brought with my grandmother when she came to this country, and looked even older than her. People en Español magazines that were spread neatly across it, but it couldn't hide its age.

I remembered the empanadas I had in the paper towel, and begun to unwrap them in my hand.

"What are thos—" I placed my finger on his lips.

"Sshh. Abuelita doesn't like when I spoil my supper," I whispered. I broke a piece off and positioned it to go against his mouth. At first he hesitated, and I was sure he would not eat it, but to my surprise he opened his mouth. Because I wasn't expecting him to eat it, my finger slipped inside his mouth along with the food. We both looked as awkward as the two dogs from Lady and the Tramp, when they kissed after eating the spaghetti. I quickly slipped my finger out, and he started chewing like nothing had happened.

"Yeah, you were right, it's mouthwatering," he uttered. "I'd love some more."

I decided he was just talking about the food and not me.

"Well, I have to change and leave pretty soon. John was it?" I closed our briefing ", and it was great seeing you again." I gave him the paper towel that was in my hand filled with the rest of the empanadas.

I turned to walk away, but he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back to him. I like standing next to people like Melanie, because I'm 5'6 and she's 5'2, and I did look tall in comparison, but once again compared to many guys I felt short and vulnerable. Unlike Daniel, John had to be at least six feet tall. Well.. maybe not six feet, but close, probably five-eleven or five-ten.

"Okay, but can we at least catch a ride together when you go to work?" he inquired. His grip on me was firm, but it wasn't hurting me, and I could break free whenever I chose.

"¡Reina! El Sr. Perez viene esta noche para la comida, entonces, por qué no hacen usted también sale," Ama shouted from the kitchen. Reina! Mr. Perez is coming over for dinner tonight. Maybe you should go out too. At this point I was persuaded. The last time Mr. Perez came over for dinner I caught a sight of something no one should ever have to see.

"You're going to have to wait for me to change," I said caved in once again. Do I always let people dictate my life?

*****

John

I didn't want to come so strongly onto her, but I couldn't stand her to refuse me. I waited on the couch. I know I'm tall compared to a lot of people but I felt like the iron giant sitting on their couch. Hell this made me feel how ill proportioned Alice from Alice and Wonderland must have felt when she drank the magic elixir. I finished munching on the empanadas. Normally I'm not an ethnic food person, but when she placed her finger on my lip there was no way I could say no, and when she let me taste that sweet skin of hers, there was no turning back. 

"Okay, I'm ready," she declared while hopping on one foot to place her shoe on.

I looked at her. She had on a fitted black pencil skirt and a white button down and a lacey ruffled top. It may have been something appropriate to wear and not get stares like a Hooter's waitress, and she did have on a tank top on underneath, but for me... I wanted to rip it off then and there. 

Reina snapped in front of my face to regain my attention. She now had on both of her black high heels. 

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go." I grabbed my jacket, and made sure I had the phone in the pocket, and after confirming that it was there, I turned it off. Normally I work long five-to-nine like hours, but today I didn't think anyone would miss me.

When we got outside she looked confused.

"Where's your car?"

"Oh, I hauled in a cab today. No need to draw any attention to myself."

The ride was going to be a silent one...minus the assertive cab driver of course. This was the type of cab driver who's true occupation was to instigate road rage. I smiled to myself. I remember when I first came to stay in New York.

I was a few years older than what I assume Reina's age is, but not nearly as comfortable as she is with the lively city. I couldn't take it anymore. My mind was on the last straw with my parents' lifestyle. My father was a business man like me, but I always felt that was his excuse to get out of our mansion.

In Ireland my family has been quite wealthy for generations as far back as the Royal Family themselves, and for just as long we've been living like our shit is gold. No woman in our family has ever had to work, and the only one who has ever lifted a freshly manicured finger is my aunt, Samantha.sh never fit in too well in our high class society, and as soon as she was of age joined the Peace Corps. Grandfather was so upset he cut her off altogether, but her heart was so golden, that that didn't keep her from visiting. No matter how much the family protested her actions I always loved her the most. When Aunt Samantha did visit she made it her goal to surprise us with gifts from the places she lived, mostly from countries in Africa and the Caribbean. Her stories were better than anything the tele could ever broadcast and Samantha's passion and love was always greater than anything my parents could display. 

I was twenty-four and graduating from university. Aunt Samantha was supposed to be catching a flight back home from her current location within Africa two days before the ceremony, but instead we just got a call. 

Her flight never landed. 

Two weeks later at her memorial my bastard of a family didn't even shed a tear besides me. My father made an extra effort to ensure his 'days at the office' became lengthier and my mom evolved from being just a bitch to becoming the Omega.




New York Love Affair



The day I lost any desire I may have had left to stay was when I decided to come home a moment too early from a night of partying with friends to finally meet just 'who' my father was meeting with when he had his days at the office. After catching him, he scurried to get dressed to rush after me with his sorry ass excuse, yet when studying him, I noticed no remorse in his eyes. His best explanation was a simply command "Don't tell your mother."

Not too long after I came to America. In search of the American Dream that I heard so much of when vacationing and in the American media—a better life, but like many the dream that all are in search of was nothing but a letdown to discover the grass wasn't any greener on the other side. Hell, in the city I'm lucky to get a glimpse of grass when passing through Central Park.

"Thanks to you yet again John," Reina's soft voice gratified after the taxi stopped outside of a restaurant. Once again I was lost for words and smiled and reached across her to open the door. Being a guy, I couldn't resist the urge to stare at her ass the whole time she pranced to the building. She almost caught me glancing when she turned back and waved. The driver laughed knowingly and pulled off.

"You're headed to 7th Ave, right? The young lady only paid enough for me to head there." The driver questioned.

I was confused.

"What? I'm sorry, when did she do this?"

"Just a few minutes ago. I think you were sleep or somethin'. Look I already got the fare, so just let me know if you're getting' off at 7th or not." The driver seemed fine as long as he got the right fare.

"Uh, yeah thanks."

I leaned my head back against the seat.

I know people like me just have money to blow on unreasonable stuff, but I know this woman wasn't like us. On the phone earlier with her grandmother, I think she was trying to explain to me that Reina was at work, and unless I misunderstood she was just dropped off at work for a second time today. I had a personal experience of where she's living, but it didn't sop her from spending her hard earned money on my fare, when I don't doubt she doesn't realize that I could purchase my own cab company if I desired to. I turned to the seat she was sitting in, as if I could still feel her presence. My eyes lingered at a black leather bag, and after years of buying the same design for my current play things, it was no question to me that this was a knock-off. She left her purse

"I'm going to need you to turn the car around!"

"Sir, I'm already a quarter of the way there. I'd need you to pay for the extra milage." The cab driver seemed annoyed. 

I handed him two crisp bills. He took one glance at them and did an illegal u-turn.

Reina

"Reina, I'm glad you've finally found the time to show up."

I looked down at my watch.

"It's only five thirty-seven. I'm just two minutes late."

At first I found my job as a waitress at Giuseppe's to be a blessing. It wasn't asking me to degrade myself like many restaurants are beginning to adopt more and more, and most days I felt comfortable, but when the Giuseppe's decided to hire their nephew, Leonard as the manager while they were away, I find this job to be a burden more and more.

"Yeah well you were supposed to be here three days this week, not to even mention how the previous weeks have been, and yet you continue to be absent."

"I wasn't supposed to be on duty, Leonard. You called me in minutes before asking me to come in and each time I told you I couldn't because I had to go to my college classes, many of which I already missed to be here."

Leonard sneered at me for a long moment.

"Okay, why don't I just do you a favor? Leave your name tag on the desk in the office, and don't bother checking in today—or any other day in that matter," he barked.

My jaw dropped.

"Excuse me?" my voice quivered.

"You heard me right. Obviously you're not committed enough to be working here," he retorted.

My fist clenched. This guy has no clue. I snatched my name tag from my chest., threw it at him, and turned to exit.

"I'm sure the Giuseppe's will mail you your check," Leonard called after me.

I haven't even gotten my last two since the restaurant being slow lately. I'm starting to fall behind in the rent, and if this month is anything like the last I'm positive we'll get another eviction notice.

My face was burning when I fled. I just don't get how I can work so hard just to keep going back to square one.

The tears finally came.

One of the reasons I appreciate New York. When I cry not one single person lets on that the notice, as if I'm crying in private. I rush pass everyone on the side walk. What am I going to do? I really needed this job. Even if I were to get another one today, there's no way I could get an advance to help pay the rent off.

"Reina! Reina!" I heard that voice call from behind me. John. I swear I meet with him for all of the wrong reasons.

"Who hurt you? Tell me now!" His tone was harsh and when I gazed up at him I saw the flames in his gorgeous eyes.

I nodded my head.

"Reina I need you to let me know, so I can get them!" His teeth clenched as he held me.

At first I tried to hold it in, but I couldn't. I thought of all of my pain, and burst into a fit of sobs. Busy citizens continued to hurry past us. Minutes passed as would stood in each others' arms and traffic past. When I finished I took sharp breaths, slowly informing him of what just happened. Never once did he interrupt me or let go. Even when I finished he was quiet for a brief moment.

He passed me my purse, that I think I left in the cab, and pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number.

"Hello. Past 156th. Yeah I need you to bring it right now. You better not be a second short, and I better not see a scratch when you get here" he muttered and snapped the phone shut. 

"What's your favorite place in New York?" His question took me off guard.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"There must be some place you like to go. Connie Island? Broadway? Any malls? Where do you go just to get away?" his tone softened.

Normally, my day is too occupied with school and work to ever have time to just hangout.

"I don't know? What's yours?" I tried to buy myself sometime to come up with an answer.

He studied me for a moment and smiled.

"What's kind of music do you listen to?" he avoided my diversion.

"I love all types. You name it. Salsa. Meringue. Hip-hop. Bollywood. Rock. Anything." This question was easier to answer.

"What's your favorite rock band?"

"Well... I guess Linkin Park or Kings of Leon, but I also love the group Artic Monkey."

He studied me again.

"That was a test. I thought you may say something like Coldplay or some shite."

I laughed.

"That's it, a smile!" he laughed along with me. "Do you listen to any foreign bands?"

"Some. One of my friends from high school gives me a foreign rock CD every birthday."

He nodded. We talked about music and all of the bands that should do a reunion or the artist that complete bands. If it wasn't for my cliche` from high school I wouldn't know who half of the people he was talking about were. The conversation ceased when a Bentley Identical to John's pulled alongside the curb.

A man walked out, and by his attire, he was obviously a worker. He reached his hand to John.

"Your keys, Mr. Kent."

"Thank you." John grabbed the keys and headed for the driver's seat. The worker opened my door. After closing it he headed down the street.

"Where is he going?" I didn't know what was going on at all.

"He's going back to work," he stated as if it was the obvious.

"What about us? Where are we going?"

"You said you wanted to know where my favorite place in New York is, so I'm about to show you." He replied.

I didn't say another word. Although I wanted to ask him to just bring me home I didn't have the courage to face Abuela right now, knowing she'd ask why I was home so early and that when she did ask I know I would probably break down again. I could tell by the route he was taking that we probably were going to leave the city. The harsh day eventually hit me and my eyelids began to fall as I fell asleep.

******

John

"Reina, we are here," I tapped her on her shoulder.

"Where's here?" she yawned, and almost fell out of the car when the door lifted.

"Open your eyes."

When she did she first looked at me. Once again, I was hypnotized. She flicked her eyelashes to adjust her vision of her surroundings. I was out of the car by now helping her out of her seat. She was still in a daze as I lead her to the entrance. By time the doors were open and sound was in full for our ears she was completely alert.

"John, seriously, where are we?"

"When I first came to the states I was sad. I became very home sick. I missed my friends, the food, the music, but here—" I took her hand and lead her further inside.

The bar was filled as well as the pool table. A live band was playing. Most people when they think of Irish music, they think of the folk music that films tend to portray when a leprechaun is involved, but what I always loved was the way Irish people were able to ad our own culture to rock. That's what attracted me to this place. It's not just a stereotypical display for Americans to indulge off of, something I see a lot here, but real Irish people just having fun whether with folk songs, drinking hymns, or something more modern.

Reina eyes wandered across the hall. 

"Hey chap, for you and the lass," a friend of mine, Liam came over with two mugs. I thanked him.

"U-uh J-John I don—" Reina stammered as she pushed the glass forward.

"You are twenty? Twenty-one? Right?"

"I'm nineteen."

Being as successful as I am at my age I usually feel young, but with my new discovery I have never felt so old. I'm double her age. 

"Well my grandmother use to always say, your secret is my silence," Liam nudged the glass towards her.

She stared at it as if it was something extra-terrestrial before hesitantly tilting the glass over her mouth. She tried to gulp down as much as she could, but stopped after chugging one-third of the glass.

"That-ta girl!" Liam praised along with some of the men sitting near. With that, I took my mug and chugged it down.

The band ended the rock song started to play a folk piece. We watched as some coupled off and started doing a dance that I learned when I was much younger. Reina studied with much interest.

"I'm going to grab a beer. Do you want lemonade or something?" I noticed how she didn't really care to take another sip from her mug. She nodded not taking her eyes off of the dance. Once I made my way to the bar, it didn't take long for someone to swift her away to the floor to show her the dance, and she was a fast learner. I wanted to intervene not wanting her to be with any other man but me, but I couldn't when she giggled as the tune got faster. I smiled loving that she was happy again.

"John! Come get your ass kicked in a bloody game of pool," one man called over.

This wouldn't be much entertainment if it wasn't for all of the trash talk. Every time I played Tim I would win in no more than nine moves.

"Go ahead and break," I said and chalked the tip of the pole.

By the third song, and as always by the seventh move I only had the eight ball left. Tim was beginning to get mad and call false claims of him giving me those shots. Reina walked over still chipper from the dance to observe the game.

"How about this, Timothy? I'll let her play my eight turn, and I assure you I'll win.

"What's on it?"

"Another round."

"Deal."

"Um, I don't know how to play," Reina whispered to me.

I guess Tim heard because he smiled and told me to get ready to pull my wallet out.

"You'll do fine." I handed her the stick.

She leaned over the table adjusting her hands to correctly aim the white ball. Her stance was pretty bad, and it was obvious she didn't know much about the game. I walked behind her and place my hands over hers. She looked up at me.

"Relax. Follow my lead," I whispered in her ear. I felt her heart beat quicken.

"Don't worry. I told you we have this. Believe me."

She pressed her weight against me, releasing her guard. I almost groaned out loud when I felt her arse against me. My bulge began to develop. 

"Put your elbows like this. Yeah like that. One. Two," by the three I lead her arms to tap the white ball. In one swift move the eight ball plopped in the whole.

"We did it!" Reina leaped in excitement. You did it alright.

There was no way I could walk away without being obvious, so I walked Reina to back to the floor to dance so that she blocked my erection. I'm not a dancing person unless I'm truly just that drunk, but I only just finished my beer and was far from feeling that buzzed. Lucky for me this song was slower and was more so just swaying. We did this for two more songs before the bar broke out in carols.

All was merry until a fight began. That's when we decided to slip out. This was the moment of truth. I could go straight to her place or to mine. I looked at her she was intently listening to a song playing on the radio. I looked from her to my bulge. Fuck it! 

"You wanna order a pizza?"

"Sure."

*****

Reina

This was the part of New York I only know about from party hopping with Melanie. John parked (or actually passed the keys to valet to park) in front of a large glass sky scraper. The place was closely guarded. Before we could make it to the elevator the receptionist stopped us and passed us a pizza box.

"The best in all New York," the young guy prided himself.

John nodded in approval while exchanging the box for the cash in his hand. 

"Come on," he motioned for me with his free hand and led me to the elevator.

I held my breath the whole way up. I normally never have to ride to high levels no matter where I am in New York, but that wasn't even my biggest concern. Did I really just go home with this guy?

Once John led me off of the elevator, I realized that the whole floor was his flat. He entered a password. I gazed at him as if give me the confidence that I could go through with this. Mentally, I was slapping myself for going home with him. His cheeks contained extra color from his consumption, but he didn't show many signs of intoxication although his hand would stroke my back or run through my hair and every so often I could feel his fingers stop at my bra strap through my clothes. I could tell that he wasn't one of those drunks to be absolutely ridiculous and embarrass themselves, but he was the kind of drunk that shows who they really are. How does that saying go? A true drunk never lies.

He didn't even have to turn his lights on for me to tell that his home and my home were on a completely separate level. I may have well have been living in a slum compared to this place. His apartment was glowing a vibrant blue from the light from his aquarium, which was no goldfish bowl. The Aquarium flowed throughout the whole floor. Once he turned the lights on it gave away just how contemporary this place was. It was like a bachelors dream pad. Everything was white except for the kitchen that he led me to.

"How do you like it?" he beamed. I could tell he was proud of his place.

"It's huge."

"Nothing like my boss's, but by time I'm married with a family I'll upgrade."

Does this guy realize that my whole family (which is quite large) can move into this place with much comfort?

"Make yourself at home."

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed another beer and me a Fanta from his fridge that was bigger than my closet, and showed me to a room to the back of the house opposite to what I think was the master bedroom. I could tell this was probably the smallest room in the house, but it was still a lot larger than my bedroom in Harlem. 

"I think this room was supposed to be for a baby or a child, maybe even a studio, but I don't have any of those, so this is just my contemplation room."

The room was painted a light yellow and all of the furniture was a soft sweet pea green. John walked over to the iPod deck in the corner and placed it on shuffle. He had intercom sound system that played it nicely throughout the house. In the middle of the floor was a small table where he rested the pizza box and drinks. Instead of chairs, it had cushions. The lower half of the walls were pillow padded.

John opened the pizza box and walked back out. 

"I'm about to get some parmesan, would you like anything?"

"Um," I argued if I should truly be myself ,"Do you have any chocolate syrup?"

"I think so." He raised an eyebrow at me.

Once he returned with everything including paper towels and wet wipes, he sat leaning against the wall with a slice of pizza he started munching on. I followed his lead and began to eat a slice.

"I knew it. You're no true New Yorker," he chuckled. 

"Why do you say that?" I placed the slice down on a paper towel on the table.

"Watch someone who has lived in the city most of their life if not all, and how they eat a slice of pizza. They eat it fast or without savoring the flavor speeding through life."

"Yeah, but for those who aren't in the fast line, the rest are considered to be wasting their life," I retorted.

He paused and thought about my response.

"Hey want to play this game I use to play back when I was in high school?" I tried to break the ice.

"Sure." He sat up.

"Okay we call it twenty-one questions, but it's not like that game you play with the ball. You can ask me any question about myself and I have to answer and vice versa, so pretty much like Truth or Dare without the daring, but when the game gets boring and we run out of questions, we can just start confessing something juicy."

"Okay. Do I start?" He seemed to comprehend.

I nodded.

"What the hell is the chocolate syrup for?"

I laughed, and grabbed the syrup bottle. I poured it across my slice of pizza, and took a bite. John couldn't have looked more disgusted

"Try it." I leaned over the table placing the pizza in front of his lips.

"I thought this wasn't a daring game." He turned his face not wanting to experiment.

"I promise just try it and you'll like it."

He stared in my eyes for a minute leaned forward to take a bite. The entire time he chewed he shut his eyes tight. 

"Well..."

"It's... not bad," he informed and wiped his mouth on a paper towel.

We both laughed.

"My turn! " I exclaimed. "What's something that most people don't know about you?"

He thought for a minute before he started pulling his shirt off. Whoa! I hope this isn't a way he tries to make a pass. When his shirt was off I tried my best to keep my composure. All the working out that I'm positive he does showed. When snapped out of it I saw he was talking about the tattoos he had. His right arm was filled with a tribal design from his shoulder blade down to his forearm, and a dragon on his lower abdomen while a foreign language occupied his whole chest. Coimhéad fearg fhear na foighde. The last one was on his left was a date with two feather extending from it. Without realizing it I was running my fingers along each design.. He chuckled when I snatched back.

"Your turn," I blushed.

"Beware of the anger of a patient man," he told me the meaning of the saying, "Do you have any tattoos?"

I grabbed something from the back pocket of my purse and turned away from him for a while prepping myself in my pocket mirror before turning back to him. 

"So do you?" he demanded.

"No," I nodded my head, "but..."

I pulled my shirt up around my ribs and stuck out my tongue exposing my two piercings. His eyes grew big.

"I guess you aren't as straightedge as I thought," he stated his eyes not leaving the sight.

"I'd probably never get a tattoo. Too much of a commitment. I can always take my piercings out, but I bet those tattoos are the reason you're in a long sleeve button down," I claimed.




New York Love Affair



"No this is just how I dress. That and I work every day with an exception of some weekends and holidays, so no reason to wear jeans and a tee shirt. Plus I think it makes me look like James Bonds,' he grinned.

"Don't insult yourself like that, you look much better. Like Robert Downey Jr. if he shaved."

"Really now?"

"Yeah. Who do I look like to you?"

"You remind me of that model Sessilee Lopez, but a much softer face like -- um who's that singer," he started to snap his finger to remember, "Corinne Bailey Rae."

"That's very analytical of you."

"Thanks, but that being a question, it's my turn again. What else do you put chocolate on," he smirked scooting next t to me. I knew where this was going.

"Everything. You know chocolate came from south of the border. It was treated like gold, and in some cases was worth more," I recited pouring a drop from the bottle on my finger, yet before it could reach my lips he pulled it to his.

He pulled me on top of his lap. Before I could protest I felt his lips on mine. 

"Wait. We can'—" Before I could get my statement out his lips were back on mine.

"John. We just met."

My statement didn't stop him.

"At least let me take my piercing out," I panted while his hands roamed my body.

"It's hot! Leave them in," he commanded of me.

His tongue entered my mouth and danced with mine. His palms pressed me against his torso. His tongue exited my mouth and his teeth nibbled on my lower lip. This sent a spark through my body and I arched further into him and let out a moan. His fingers grabbed the collar of my lace shirt and ripped it open. One part of my mind told me to be mad, because I really liked the shirt and don't have any others like it, but the stronger side of my mind yelled at me Screw the shirt!

My efforts to slap his hands away were to no avail. He pulled the tank top I was wearing over my head while with his free hand he undid my bra. Once my breasts were released he fed at my nipples.

"John! I— Oh gosh!" I was cut short when he began to nibble the flesh of my areolas.

John picked me up and carried me across the hall to his bedroom. I bounced when he tossed me on his feathered mattress. When I glanced at his eyes while he unbuttoned his shirt, they were glazed in longing and starvation as if he'd wanted me for all eternity. He locked the band of my skirt in his grasp and all at once he yanked my skirt, stockings, and panties off. 

It wasn't until I heard him unbuckling his pants that I was knocked back in reality.

"John. We can't," my voice softly informed.

He acted as if he couldn't hear. He aligned his erection with me.

"Wait. John. I'm a -- well I've never.." I couldn't find a right way to end my sentence.

He jumped off of me.

"Don't tell me you're a virgin!"

I nodded my head in embarrassment. I just ruined any possibility of an on going relationship.

"Fuck!" He started to walk out of the room.

"Wait! Please don't go!" I called after him getting off of the bed. I

"Look, I'd never want to force you to do something you aren't prepared for, but right now I'm not thinking straight, and my dick is doing all of the thinking for me, so I'm going to take a cold shower."

Before he could walk out I stopped him and kissed him softly. I could only think of one other way to keep him with me.

"Reina..." he pleaded.

"Ssh.. Let me help," I whispered to him between each peck. I trailed the kisses down his torso until I was on my knees. I grabbed his cock and stroked it softly. John let out a low growl. With that invitation I started flicking my piercing against the tip. He pulled my hair out of my face. I then started to suckle on the head as I caressed his shaft.

"Oh God that feels amazing baby," he groaned.

I continued to stroke his shaft, but averted the attention of my mouth to his balls. His grip on my hair tightened.

"If you keep that up, I'm going to cum soon."

I suckled on each of his balls until they were both full, round, and firm. My tongue trailed its way back to the head of his cock where I began to bob down his shaft back to the tip while massaging his flesh with my tongue in a figure eight motion, my left hand still giving full attention to his sack.

"Dammit! Love, I'm about to cum!" He tried to pull me off but I continued to go down on him.

"God Reina!" he roared and his body rocked as he shot ribbon after ribbon of salty heated cream in my mouth.

He pulled me up and sat me on the bed as he wiped my face with his sheets. Once he finished he kissed me passionately. We collapsed on the bed and began to fall asleep. Before I was completely drifted into the land of slumber I felt his arms wrap around me and pull me closer into him.

"Sweet dreams lovely."