EPISODE SEVEN
Marabel woke the next morning with a renewed sense of self. Even though she had the time of her life witnessing Coran pleasure her to peaks that she never though existed, she was ultimately exhausted from the drama. Between Calvin trying to stake his claim and Coran attempting to rekindle something that never was, Marabel was so over her new life back in her hometown. Hey, St. Louis men were her weakness…that much she could admit.
She rolled over in her bed to see her phone flashing with notifications. Marabel sighed, knowing that she didn’t want to deal with Dabney and her mess, so she ignored her phone all together. After crawling out of bed, she sauntered downstairs to her kitchen. Marabel poured a mug of milk then she stood in front of her large picture window that overlooked Downtown St Louis. Just being home gave her chills. The world seemed to come alive with the morning rush and made one want to be amongst the crowd. However, at night when the city went to sleep, it gave her a bit of peace that she just couldn’t get anywhere else. Sometimes she wondered why she chose to leave in the first place but that story was a long deep-seated one that she thought best to relive at another time, possibly with a professional therapist.
It was early and the day appeared to be sunny and beautiful. After finishing her drink, she hopped into a hot shower. Marabel dressed in a charcoal-colored crew shirt with blue straight legged jeans and boots. She found her studded motorcycle jacket and accessorized her outfit with simple white-gold hoop earrings and bangles.
After grabbing her keys and phone, she trotted down her hall to the elevator in hopes of not having the luck of running into Coran. As Marabel took the short ride down, her cheeks warmed while she thought about how he always shattered all her defenses. Whenever he asked her a question, whether personal or not, she couldn’t deny him an answer. Sure she was an open book and had nothing to hide but some portions of her life and past she only wanted to forget. One such area of her life that she wished to delete just so happened to be involved in a time that they were acquainted.
Once the elevator stopped on the ground level, she quickly flitted to her car with the mission of researching potential connections for her business. First up was the Missouri History Museum located in Forest Park.
Taking the short ride down highway 70 was strange for her. Marabel was used to the aggressive driving style of Texas, so being on the slower roadways of St. Louis was grating on her nerves. She’d rather watch paint dry. Thankfully, it didn’t take her long to reach the park. Marabel knew there were smaller galleries and museums closer in proximity to her loft but Forest Park had sentimental value. From the St. Louis Zoo to the Jewel Box, she loved being at the picturesque landmark of beauty. Sure Texas was riddled with small parks in every neighborhood but St. Louis was different. Her hometown had a handful of medium to large parks and open areas so when one visited those particular areas it was more like an event or special occasion.
Once she parked, Marabel noted the time and checked her phone. It was only an hour from the lunch rush and Dabney had called, texted, and emailed nearly twenty times. Whatever it was that she wanted wasn’t urgent since Dabney didn’t use their special “911” code so Marabel put off returning her call until after the business of the day.
She was able to meet with the museum director and discuss her accolades in the art and international museum world. Marabel was able to pitch a few exhibit ideas so her day was turning out productive. While they talked, the director had them walk the grounds. They toured an interesting exhibit of St. Louis history and its connection to slavery through the Civil Rights Movement. The display wasn’t very expansive however the historical items like metal shackles, life-sized figurines, and animated booths were amazing to see. Marabel was so in awe that she barely could keep up with her discussion. Even the pictures of the riverfront and old downtown were breathtaking.
Everything that she saw was starting to excite her with ideas of exhibits she could orchestrate then her phone started vibrating, interrupting her meeting. She quickly checked her phone as she internally cursed Dabney’s name but she was surprised to see that it was Calvin calling.
“Excuse me, I need to take this,” Marabel said to the director.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Marabel. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m fine but I’m in the middle of a business meeting Calvin.”
“This won’t take long. I have an opportunity for you and your art dealing business.”
“Okay I’m listening.”
“Meet me at your place in an hour.”
“I don’t know Calvin. I kind of had a lot of things planned for the day.”
“Oh come on. You’ll love it, I know. See you in an hour.” Calvin disconnected the call before Marabel could accept or deny. Damn him, she thought while she rolled her eyes. This better be good.
Marabel finished up her meeting and ended her visit to Forest Park. She turned on the radio to Majic 100.3FM and they were playing a 90’s mix that normally she would love but again she was in a whirlwind of emotions and doubt. Part of her was annoyed by Calvin’s insistence but she also found herself intrigued and overall aroused by his status. She had to give him props for being a notably, prominent business figure with an insanely perfect eye for detail. For God sake, he has a file on me so why wouldn’t he know what I like?
She made it to her building in twenty minutes so she still had nearly half an hour to wait. Marabel took out her phone on the ride up to her floor and once off the elevator, she dialed Dabney.
“Bitch where have you been? You better be ass naked with some hot Don Juan.”
Marabel chuckled then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a note affixed to her front door that read:
Hey Bell,
Meet me at my place on the top floor when you get in.
~ Coran
Marabel stood and gazed at the note like it was written in a foreign language. What the hell does Coran want?
“Hello? Marabel?” Dabney shouted.
“Let me call you back.”
“What –.”
Marabel ended the call and turned back toward the elevator. Her curiosity was killing her plus she had thirty minutes to blow. The elevator chimed with the arrow illuminated in the “up” direction.
What the hell, I’ve been waiting on this invite for over a decade. A few minutes couldn’t hurt, she thought as she took a ride to the top.
She rolled over in her bed to see her phone flashing with notifications. Marabel sighed, knowing that she didn’t want to deal with Dabney and her mess, so she ignored her phone all together. After crawling out of bed, she sauntered downstairs to her kitchen. Marabel poured a mug of milk then she stood in front of her large picture window that overlooked Downtown St Louis. Just being home gave her chills. The world seemed to come alive with the morning rush and made one want to be amongst the crowd. However, at night when the city went to sleep, it gave her a bit of peace that she just couldn’t get anywhere else. Sometimes she wondered why she chose to leave in the first place but that story was a long deep-seated one that she thought best to relive at another time, possibly with a professional therapist.
It was early and the day appeared to be sunny and beautiful. After finishing her drink, she hopped into a hot shower. Marabel dressed in a charcoal-colored crew shirt with blue straight legged jeans and boots. She found her studded motorcycle jacket and accessorized her outfit with simple white-gold hoop earrings and bangles.
After grabbing her keys and phone, she trotted down her hall to the elevator in hopes of not having the luck of running into Coran. As Marabel took the short ride down, her cheeks warmed while she thought about how he always shattered all her defenses. Whenever he asked her a question, whether personal or not, she couldn’t deny him an answer. Sure she was an open book and had nothing to hide but some portions of her life and past she only wanted to forget. One such area of her life that she wished to delete just so happened to be involved in a time that they were acquainted.
Once the elevator stopped on the ground level, she quickly flitted to her car with the mission of researching potential connections for her business. First up was the Missouri History Museum located in Forest Park.
Taking the short ride down highway 70 was strange for her. Marabel was used to the aggressive driving style of Texas, so being on the slower roadways of St. Louis was grating on her nerves. She’d rather watch paint dry. Thankfully, it didn’t take her long to reach the park. Marabel knew there were smaller galleries and museums closer in proximity to her loft but Forest Park had sentimental value. From the St. Louis Zoo to the Jewel Box, she loved being at the picturesque landmark of beauty. Sure Texas was riddled with small parks in every neighborhood but St. Louis was different. Her hometown had a handful of medium to large parks and open areas so when one visited those particular areas it was more like an event or special occasion.
Once she parked, Marabel noted the time and checked her phone. It was only an hour from the lunch rush and Dabney had called, texted, and emailed nearly twenty times. Whatever it was that she wanted wasn’t urgent since Dabney didn’t use their special “911” code so Marabel put off returning her call until after the business of the day.
She was able to meet with the museum director and discuss her accolades in the art and international museum world. Marabel was able to pitch a few exhibit ideas so her day was turning out productive. While they talked, the director had them walk the grounds. They toured an interesting exhibit of St. Louis history and its connection to slavery through the Civil Rights Movement. The display wasn’t very expansive however the historical items like metal shackles, life-sized figurines, and animated booths were amazing to see. Marabel was so in awe that she barely could keep up with her discussion. Even the pictures of the riverfront and old downtown were breathtaking.
Everything that she saw was starting to excite her with ideas of exhibits she could orchestrate then her phone started vibrating, interrupting her meeting. She quickly checked her phone as she internally cursed Dabney’s name but she was surprised to see that it was Calvin calling.
“Excuse me, I need to take this,” Marabel said to the director.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Marabel. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m fine but I’m in the middle of a business meeting Calvin.”
“This won’t take long. I have an opportunity for you and your art dealing business.”
“Okay I’m listening.”
“Meet me at your place in an hour.”
“I don’t know Calvin. I kind of had a lot of things planned for the day.”
“Oh come on. You’ll love it, I know. See you in an hour.” Calvin disconnected the call before Marabel could accept or deny. Damn him, she thought while she rolled her eyes. This better be good.
Marabel finished up her meeting and ended her visit to Forest Park. She turned on the radio to Majic 100.3FM and they were playing a 90’s mix that normally she would love but again she was in a whirlwind of emotions and doubt. Part of her was annoyed by Calvin’s insistence but she also found herself intrigued and overall aroused by his status. She had to give him props for being a notably, prominent business figure with an insanely perfect eye for detail. For God sake, he has a file on me so why wouldn’t he know what I like?
She made it to her building in twenty minutes so she still had nearly half an hour to wait. Marabel took out her phone on the ride up to her floor and once off the elevator, she dialed Dabney.
“Bitch where have you been? You better be ass naked with some hot Don Juan.”
Marabel chuckled then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a note affixed to her front door that read:
Hey Bell,
Meet me at my place on the top floor when you get in.
~ Coran
Marabel stood and gazed at the note like it was written in a foreign language. What the hell does Coran want?
“Hello? Marabel?” Dabney shouted.
“Let me call you back.”
“What –.”
Marabel ended the call and turned back toward the elevator. Her curiosity was killing her plus she had thirty minutes to blow. The elevator chimed with the arrow illuminated in the “up” direction.
What the hell, I’ve been waiting on this invite for over a decade. A few minutes couldn’t hurt, she thought as she took a ride to the top.