EPISODE THREE
After driving off the lot of one of the premier luxury dealerships of greater St. Louis in a black on black Lexus IS, Marabel headed to a spa for a quick treatment of hair, nails, massage, and facial. By the time she made it home, she relaxed in the Jacuzzi jet bath tub with her favorite bath beads and scents permeating the air.
Once out of the bath, she received a text from her ace, Dabney.
Dabz: “What’re you doing? Knee-deep in making a man crumble to your demands?”
“I’m getting ready for a date.”
Dabz: “Ooo. A date? With the hot blast from your past?”
“Nope.”
Dabz: “What!? Then who?”
“The developer for my loft.”
Dabz: “OMG, you are sleeping with the landlord.”
“He is not the landlord. I think. Lol. I am not sleeping with him. Yet. Lol.”
Dabz: “You are such a slut bucket. I wish it was me. When I come to visit, you better have a hot STL man waiting on me with a red bow tied around his cock.”
“Slut bucket? I am a woman with needs.”
Dabz: “Trollope. Slut bucket. Whore. Jezebel. All those things.”
“Ok, Ice Queen. GTG. TTYL. XOXO.”
Dabz: “Bitch!”
Marabel was standing in her closet wrapped in her towel trying to determine what she would wear for date. It had warmed to a beautiful, sunny day outside, but she was not going to be fooled by that freak St. Louis ever-so-changing weather pattern. Marabel opted for an off white, one-sleeved bandage dress, metallic Jimmy Choo strappy heals, and black diamonds. She had the comfort of being sexy and shielded from the elements yet comfortable if the warm air remained throughout the night.
After checking herself once more in the mirror, she noted the time of 7:15PM then took her place on her exquisite sofa to await her date’s arrival. Not even fifteen minutes into a new model show and her buzzer rang.
Right on time, she thought.
Marabel buzzed Calvin in. She stood in the doorway in a suggestive pose that made her appear like the letter ‘S’ snaking up the seam of the frame. Calvin did a double take when he rounded the bend and caught sight of her.
“Well don’t you look,” he paused, “ready.”
“I am ready,” she purred.
“Ready for what I wonder?”
“For a lot of things, but until those things occur, please do come in.” Marabel’s seductive prowess was something that a lot of men had a hard time swallowing. She loved being a vixen of sorts and eating up her conquests with dominant flirtatious wording and direct eye contact. She was man kryptonite, and she loved every bit of it.
Calvin stepped into her living room and began to inventory the appearance of the apartment. “Everything looks in order here.”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Your team did a wonderful job,” Marabel complimented.
“Yes they did. I only oversee the space until the construction is complete. The styling, I leave to someone else that I contract,” he admitted. Calvin walked toward the flat screen TV that still had the bow attached.
“So the amazing gift was not your idea?” Marabel asked referring to the large TV.
“I would love to take credit for the thought in this purchase, but I cannot. I did sign the check for it. I allocate a certain budgeted amount for welcoming gifts, so whatever my team does with that allowance is totally up to them.”
Marabel walked into the kitchen area while he was talking. “Would you like something to drink, Mr. Laramie?”
“Considering that this is a personal outing and not a business one, you should call me Calvin. Also, you do not drink alcoholic beverages, so there would be nothing here, as of yet, that would quench my thirst.”
Before Marabel could comment on the statement, she turned and came face to face with Calvin himself. His tall, athletic frame was draped in an expensive broad navy pinstriped suit with a chocolate dotted tie had stepped inside of her personal space without her even realizing it. His cologne of winter spice made her inner core purr, and if she was not trying to accomplish the goal of getting to know him better, she would’ve had her way with him on that kitchen island in an instant.
She soon caught her bearings even though her pulse continued to run wild for the large drink of Belgian chocolate that glared down at her. Marabel fingered the lapels of his suit, then volleyed back a glance of her own.
“Apparently you read my file, if you know I do not drink,” she uttered while running her touch over his chest.
He returned the intimate touch by running his fingertips down the back of her arm sending chills through her flesh. “I wouldn’t say I read your file. That’s what assistants are for. But alcohol is not the only thing that I have a taste for.” His tongue skirted across his bottom lip making Marabel want to bite into it.
“Well Calvin, if you are in need of something to wet your palate, then we should be making our way to the restaurant,” Marabel whispered against his skin, then turned away from him. While he stood in the kitchen in the same spot, she gathered up her keys and purse. When she opened the door, he snapped out of his trance and followed her.
Calvin had a limo waiting on them when they walked out of her building. She thought maybe a limo was a little over the top, but she went along with his ostentatious display. Marabel slid onto the heated leather seat, then Calvin took his spot right next to her. She could not believe how her body naturally turned toward his and his hand met her knee like they were an official couple. Once again, she did not question it, but went with the flow.
They road a few minutes in comfortable silence, then the limo stopped in front of a rehabbed building that didn’t look too different from the one that housed her loft. The driver let them out and she took Calvin’s arm. They passed the maitre d’ and sauntered to a table cordoned in the middle of the restaurant. Marabel could not help but feel on display and exposed to the other patrons of the restaurant. A waiter pulled out her seat while Calvin took his own place at the table. Once seated, the same waiter placed a glass of brown liquid in front of Calvin and poured her glass full of sparkling cider then he left the two.
Marabel was caught up in the extravagance of the venue. The warm lighting did wonders to showcase the exposed brick of the building and simplistic value of the treated hardwood floors. Each table setting had a personalized look to it, giving each diner the appearance of eating in a shroud of intimate privacy. Their table, however, was elevated slightly above the rest, so anyone who took the care to notice, could be a part of their dining experience.
“This restaurant is amazing Calvin,” she admitted.
“Yes, I put a lot of work into developing this old building for the client. He is very pleased with the result. As a thank you, he allotted me a standing reservation and personal wait staff whenever I need,” Calvin boasted.
“It sounds like you gain a lot of benefits from your business ventures.”
“I must admit that I do. I love the benefits I receive,” he stated shining his immaculate smile at her. Marabel had parted her lip to volley one of her quips back, but he quickly changed the subject.
“So Marabel, you are an art dealer?”
“Yes amongst other things,” she stated then took a sip of her cider.
Calvin leaned back into his seat and crossed his leg at the knee like they were having a casual dinner at home instead of an exclusive steak house. He pressed the glass of what had to be brandy or scotch to his lips before he continued to his next statement.
“Art dealership is one of those careers that you hear about in the movies. I never realized that buyers actually seek out official sellers as a third party.”
Marabel was not one to be easily offended, so she let Calvin’s remarks about her career path slide off her back. “Like everything else in the world that needs to be sold, there usually is a middle man. When it comes to art, I am that middle man. My clients include anyone from estate owners to museums. Not only am I a dealer, but I am an investor. It is a very lucrative business if you know what you are doing.” Marabel leaned closer to the table. “You should through your hat into the ring. It would be a great investment opportunity.”
He chuckled then took another sip of his drink before he leaned toward the table. “I like to invest in other things in life,” he tutted.
“Like free dinners and personal wait staff at exclusive restaurants,” Marabel quipped with the perk of her eyebrow.
Calvin unfolded his napkin and gingerly tossed it on the table, then he held up his hands noting his defeat. “Okay killer. I give up. You got me with that one,” he chortled.
He was beginning to elevate her annoyance levels, but the arrival of dinner trays took her mind off of their battle of words. The waiter lifted the lid from her plate to show a crusted tilapia filet next to a small cut of sirloin that was cooked beautifully. Garlic smashed potatoes with a sprig of rosemary were sitting next to a medley of steamed vegetables and a buttered roll. Calvin had a similar meal with the exception of lobster tail substituting the fish. They both thanked the waiter then tended to their meals.
“I hope you are pleased with my choices of meats for you.”
“What made you choose tilapia for me versus a lobster tail?” Marabel questioned.
“Aren’t you allergic to shellfish?” He asked incredulous.
“Yes I am, but that wasn’t in my file.”
“Not everything about your life is in a file Ms. Larue,” he chortled. “Now eat up.”
Marabel took a minute to ponder over the intriguing man that was Calvin Laramie. Even though he had an air of arrogance, she deduced hat he was worth the investment of her time.
She eyed the steak first. Her knife cut through the flesh like butter. The tender meat hit her tongue and an explosion of garlic, cracked pepper, Worcestershire, and herbs scattered to each taste bud like a ping pong before descending down her throat.
“Oh, that steak is cooked to perfection. I cannot believe it is medium just the way I like it.”
He chortled again before murmuring, “Not everything is in the file, Ms. Larue.”
Wow, she thought. His attention to detail not only was evident in his business affairs, but it was exceedingly apparent in his personal life. I’m curious to see what’s to come with this man.
Once out of the bath, she received a text from her ace, Dabney.
Dabz: “What’re you doing? Knee-deep in making a man crumble to your demands?”
“I’m getting ready for a date.”
Dabz: “Ooo. A date? With the hot blast from your past?”
“Nope.”
Dabz: “What!? Then who?”
“The developer for my loft.”
Dabz: “OMG, you are sleeping with the landlord.”
“He is not the landlord. I think. Lol. I am not sleeping with him. Yet. Lol.”
Dabz: “You are such a slut bucket. I wish it was me. When I come to visit, you better have a hot STL man waiting on me with a red bow tied around his cock.”
“Slut bucket? I am a woman with needs.”
Dabz: “Trollope. Slut bucket. Whore. Jezebel. All those things.”
“Ok, Ice Queen. GTG. TTYL. XOXO.”
Dabz: “Bitch!”
Marabel was standing in her closet wrapped in her towel trying to determine what she would wear for date. It had warmed to a beautiful, sunny day outside, but she was not going to be fooled by that freak St. Louis ever-so-changing weather pattern. Marabel opted for an off white, one-sleeved bandage dress, metallic Jimmy Choo strappy heals, and black diamonds. She had the comfort of being sexy and shielded from the elements yet comfortable if the warm air remained throughout the night.
After checking herself once more in the mirror, she noted the time of 7:15PM then took her place on her exquisite sofa to await her date’s arrival. Not even fifteen minutes into a new model show and her buzzer rang.
Right on time, she thought.
Marabel buzzed Calvin in. She stood in the doorway in a suggestive pose that made her appear like the letter ‘S’ snaking up the seam of the frame. Calvin did a double take when he rounded the bend and caught sight of her.
“Well don’t you look,” he paused, “ready.”
“I am ready,” she purred.
“Ready for what I wonder?”
“For a lot of things, but until those things occur, please do come in.” Marabel’s seductive prowess was something that a lot of men had a hard time swallowing. She loved being a vixen of sorts and eating up her conquests with dominant flirtatious wording and direct eye contact. She was man kryptonite, and she loved every bit of it.
Calvin stepped into her living room and began to inventory the appearance of the apartment. “Everything looks in order here.”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Your team did a wonderful job,” Marabel complimented.
“Yes they did. I only oversee the space until the construction is complete. The styling, I leave to someone else that I contract,” he admitted. Calvin walked toward the flat screen TV that still had the bow attached.
“So the amazing gift was not your idea?” Marabel asked referring to the large TV.
“I would love to take credit for the thought in this purchase, but I cannot. I did sign the check for it. I allocate a certain budgeted amount for welcoming gifts, so whatever my team does with that allowance is totally up to them.”
Marabel walked into the kitchen area while he was talking. “Would you like something to drink, Mr. Laramie?”
“Considering that this is a personal outing and not a business one, you should call me Calvin. Also, you do not drink alcoholic beverages, so there would be nothing here, as of yet, that would quench my thirst.”
Before Marabel could comment on the statement, she turned and came face to face with Calvin himself. His tall, athletic frame was draped in an expensive broad navy pinstriped suit with a chocolate dotted tie had stepped inside of her personal space without her even realizing it. His cologne of winter spice made her inner core purr, and if she was not trying to accomplish the goal of getting to know him better, she would’ve had her way with him on that kitchen island in an instant.
She soon caught her bearings even though her pulse continued to run wild for the large drink of Belgian chocolate that glared down at her. Marabel fingered the lapels of his suit, then volleyed back a glance of her own.
“Apparently you read my file, if you know I do not drink,” she uttered while running her touch over his chest.
He returned the intimate touch by running his fingertips down the back of her arm sending chills through her flesh. “I wouldn’t say I read your file. That’s what assistants are for. But alcohol is not the only thing that I have a taste for.” His tongue skirted across his bottom lip making Marabel want to bite into it.
“Well Calvin, if you are in need of something to wet your palate, then we should be making our way to the restaurant,” Marabel whispered against his skin, then turned away from him. While he stood in the kitchen in the same spot, she gathered up her keys and purse. When she opened the door, he snapped out of his trance and followed her.
Calvin had a limo waiting on them when they walked out of her building. She thought maybe a limo was a little over the top, but she went along with his ostentatious display. Marabel slid onto the heated leather seat, then Calvin took his spot right next to her. She could not believe how her body naturally turned toward his and his hand met her knee like they were an official couple. Once again, she did not question it, but went with the flow.
They road a few minutes in comfortable silence, then the limo stopped in front of a rehabbed building that didn’t look too different from the one that housed her loft. The driver let them out and she took Calvin’s arm. They passed the maitre d’ and sauntered to a table cordoned in the middle of the restaurant. Marabel could not help but feel on display and exposed to the other patrons of the restaurant. A waiter pulled out her seat while Calvin took his own place at the table. Once seated, the same waiter placed a glass of brown liquid in front of Calvin and poured her glass full of sparkling cider then he left the two.
Marabel was caught up in the extravagance of the venue. The warm lighting did wonders to showcase the exposed brick of the building and simplistic value of the treated hardwood floors. Each table setting had a personalized look to it, giving each diner the appearance of eating in a shroud of intimate privacy. Their table, however, was elevated slightly above the rest, so anyone who took the care to notice, could be a part of their dining experience.
“This restaurant is amazing Calvin,” she admitted.
“Yes, I put a lot of work into developing this old building for the client. He is very pleased with the result. As a thank you, he allotted me a standing reservation and personal wait staff whenever I need,” Calvin boasted.
“It sounds like you gain a lot of benefits from your business ventures.”
“I must admit that I do. I love the benefits I receive,” he stated shining his immaculate smile at her. Marabel had parted her lip to volley one of her quips back, but he quickly changed the subject.
“So Marabel, you are an art dealer?”
“Yes amongst other things,” she stated then took a sip of her cider.
Calvin leaned back into his seat and crossed his leg at the knee like they were having a casual dinner at home instead of an exclusive steak house. He pressed the glass of what had to be brandy or scotch to his lips before he continued to his next statement.
“Art dealership is one of those careers that you hear about in the movies. I never realized that buyers actually seek out official sellers as a third party.”
Marabel was not one to be easily offended, so she let Calvin’s remarks about her career path slide off her back. “Like everything else in the world that needs to be sold, there usually is a middle man. When it comes to art, I am that middle man. My clients include anyone from estate owners to museums. Not only am I a dealer, but I am an investor. It is a very lucrative business if you know what you are doing.” Marabel leaned closer to the table. “You should through your hat into the ring. It would be a great investment opportunity.”
He chuckled then took another sip of his drink before he leaned toward the table. “I like to invest in other things in life,” he tutted.
“Like free dinners and personal wait staff at exclusive restaurants,” Marabel quipped with the perk of her eyebrow.
Calvin unfolded his napkin and gingerly tossed it on the table, then he held up his hands noting his defeat. “Okay killer. I give up. You got me with that one,” he chortled.
He was beginning to elevate her annoyance levels, but the arrival of dinner trays took her mind off of their battle of words. The waiter lifted the lid from her plate to show a crusted tilapia filet next to a small cut of sirloin that was cooked beautifully. Garlic smashed potatoes with a sprig of rosemary were sitting next to a medley of steamed vegetables and a buttered roll. Calvin had a similar meal with the exception of lobster tail substituting the fish. They both thanked the waiter then tended to their meals.
“I hope you are pleased with my choices of meats for you.”
“What made you choose tilapia for me versus a lobster tail?” Marabel questioned.
“Aren’t you allergic to shellfish?” He asked incredulous.
“Yes I am, but that wasn’t in my file.”
“Not everything about your life is in a file Ms. Larue,” he chortled. “Now eat up.”
Marabel took a minute to ponder over the intriguing man that was Calvin Laramie. Even though he had an air of arrogance, she deduced hat he was worth the investment of her time.
She eyed the steak first. Her knife cut through the flesh like butter. The tender meat hit her tongue and an explosion of garlic, cracked pepper, Worcestershire, and herbs scattered to each taste bud like a ping pong before descending down her throat.
“Oh, that steak is cooked to perfection. I cannot believe it is medium just the way I like it.”
He chortled again before murmuring, “Not everything is in the file, Ms. Larue.”
Wow, she thought. His attention to detail not only was evident in his business affairs, but it was exceedingly apparent in his personal life. I’m curious to see what’s to come with this man.