Fire In His Eyes (2 page)

“Listen to
me!  You have to get right back in the saddle.  You have kept yourself on the shelf way too long.”  Ana’s voice coming through the phone brokered no argument.  What Ana had to say was true, an understatement, to say the least.  I had not done much SADDLE RIDING in my life and just recently found myself enjoying it.

When I did not respond and merely sighed in response, Ana continued.  “Come on
, Monica, you had fun with Dan, don’t let the disappointment of it not being long-term make you afraid to try again.  You didn’t even love him.  You both knew that relationship was going nowhere.  You just liked the sex.”  That, too, was an understatement and so like Ana. Blunt and honest to the core.  The truth was, Dan had been fun.  He was safe, funny, and a good friend with benefits.  I never had to worry about him hurting me, and he taught me a lot about myself and about sex. I had denied myself for over ten years until Dan came along because I was too afraid of getting hurt and reliving that nightmare. How he had laughed when he met the twenty-eight year old “virgin.”

“I know,” I groaned into the receiver.  “It’s just that Dan was not c
omplicated.  He was fun and nice.”

“Nice and easy
and safe.  Too safe.  He was a friend, and I am glad I introduced you, but he has been transferred out of state, and you need to have a real relationship.”

“I am not looking for a relationship.  I am only thirty and have plenty of
time for a relationship.”

“Listen, Mon, you have done
wonders in the past three years; you have dropped a ton of weight, finally got the counseling you needed all those years ago, learned to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, but now you gotta live, too!  Dan was safe, but I don’t want to see you dry up like some old hag on a shelf.”

“Ana, I am only thirty,” I repeated.  “Plenty of time.  Dan’s been gone only a
year.”

“But a year without sex is a long time.  You need to learn how to trust and have fun.  You had that nightmare for a reason, Monica.  You have not been out on the town in over a year.  You haven’t had a date, a real date
, since Dan left.  You are getting into those Obsessive Compulsive Disorders again.  I noticed your dishes the last time I was there.”

“I just like things neat,” I replied.

“Your patterns all faced in the same direction.”

I winced
, even though she couldn’t see it.  What she said was true.  I had made a lot of progress in three years, but these last few months, I had noticed old patterns creeping back in.  Defensive patterns that made me feel in control.  Counting my steps, placement of objects, repetitive patterns. “Dan made me feel safe, Ana,” I repeated her earlier words.

“But you did not love Dan.  Yeah
, he oiled the tubes, but sex is better when it is with someone you love, not a partner to practice with, that is why you gotta put yourself out there. You gotta take a risk. You gotta stick more than your toes in the water, you gotta take the plunge, grab the bull by the horns!”

“You are such a horn dog!” I giggled.  My sister was a nympho at eighteen, I swear.  Knowing she would just keep hounding me until she got her way
, I knew I would have to give in.  The determined free spirit that was Ana, always got her way.  She had our grandfather, and father wrapped around her little finger, and at thirty-four, had a slew of romantic entanglements on her hands.  At thirty, I guess I was about to embark on relationship number two, or three, if you counted the unrequited love I had for my high school crush.  “Okay, what do you suggest I do?” I relented.

“Yes
sssss!!!!,”  she hissed.  “I knew you would see it my way.  Well, I know this club down in Tampa . . .” Ana began.

“A club!
?”  I panicked, the old fear resurfacing, as I held the phone to my ear with one hand and twisted my long brown hair around my finger with the other. “You never mentioned a club before!”

“
What do you want to do? Go to the grocery store and check out guys for rings, or have me drag you into Home Depot and ask every cute guy if he is single?  You’re such a virgin! You want a loaf of bread you go to the bakery, if you want a man you go to da club.”  I couldn’t help but laugh at the way my sister spoke.  We were like night and day, but she was always the one and only who could pull me out of my funk.  “Listen, I will be with you,” she added reassuringly.

“All right, give me some details, please.”
  You couldn’t argue with Ana for long. When she had her mind made up, it was just a matter of time before you gave in.

“All right.  The place is called the Blue Martini, and it is ladies
’ night tomorrow night so all the single guys will be on the prowl and buying us drinks to get us into bed.  Wear something tight and sexy.  I am wearing those black slacks and that glittery gold tank top, the one with the sequins. Wear a skirt and show off those long legs of yours, okay?”

“But tomorrow is Thursday, and I have to work on Friday.  I can’t stay out late and get up in the morning for work!”

“Puh-lease, Miss Teacher Prude.  You’re thirty, not dead!  Stop with the excuses. WE ARE going!  We will be home by three; and you will get up at seven, and be to work by seven twenty.  Throw in a movie for the kids to watch and you can take a nap when you get home. I’ll pick you up at nine.”

“I never let my students watch movies!” I replied appalled.

“Well, you will on Friday!” And she hung up.

I looked in the mirror in my bathroom, put the finishing touches on of my make-up, and was pleased with the outcome.  I used a bit more mascara to draw more attention to my large brown almond shaped eyes.  I chose to wear a form fitting denim skirt and my beige crocheted halter top.  The golden tan I sported from many days in the sun during spring break gave me a nice glow.  I did not need much make-up, just the mascara, a bit of shadow, and lip gloss completed my look.

I heard Ana’s SUV
pull up in the drive way, and the front door opened as she came bouncing into the living room.  “Are you ready, Mon?” she called out.

“
I’m in the bathroom.  I will be out in a sec,” I replied.

“Okay!”
Ana hollered back.

I finished with
my mascara and walked out into the living room where she sat on my new suede sofa channel surfing.  I had just remodeled the house over the summer, doing the work myself, even the tiling.  I was proud of the woman I was becoming; confident, independent, and no longer afraid of her shadow.  I just wished I had not wasted so much time, and had gotten the help I needed after I was raped when I was seventeen.  But I tried not to dwell on that any longer.

“You look fantastic, Mon!  You need heels
, though.  God, your calves are amazing!  Rock solid, and your arms.  The weight training is doing wonders for your tone!”

“Thanks, Ana!”  She always complimented me lately.  Three years ago, when I finally decided I needed help, she had been by biggest supporter.  I barely left my
house.  But because of the therapy, I had been able to deal with the rape, had lost the eighty pounds I had gained and began to work out and tone my body.  I no longer hid in my home, no longer avoided the male species like the plague, and had begun a work out regime. I biked twenty miles a day on the weekends, ran five during the week, and did weight training every other day.  The weight had been another issue.  Over the years, I put on weight to make myself invisible to men so they wouldn’t find me attractive.  I hid in nondescript clothes, and tried to blend into the background whenever I was out of my home, which had been for school or work only.  Therapy helped me learn these things about myself.  It helped me face my demons, deal with my guilt, my OCD, and why it had developed in the first place.

“
You look like you’re twenty!  I am so jealous!” Ana patted her belly.

“Ana, you look good
, too!”  And, she did.  She had long auburn hair that she got from our mother, and hazel eyes.  She was tall for a woman at six feet, to my five eight, and held herself well, despite being just a tad overweight.  Being diabetic, she carried the few extra pounds around her middle.  Nothing like the situation I had found myself in after eating myself into obesity to thwart any male advances. Her face was like a porcelain china doll, with a pointed chin, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, and a heart shaped face.  She had never been without a suitor or male companionship for longer than a few weeks. This was one of those times.

“Okay, go get those heels.  I am ready to par-tay!”  She got up from the sofa, and followed me into my bedroom. “I love what you have done to the house.  It
looks great.  You will have to come by my place and give me some decorating tips.”

“You are the
queen of clutter, woman. My tip is to buy a shed!”  She laughed as she looked at the floor of my closet and picked out a pair of brown sandals with a three inch heel.

“Ooo!  These,” she said
, handing me the pair she had stooped down to get.

I leaned on my queen sized bed, and strapped on the heels.

“Let’s rock’n roll.”  I followed Ana out of my room, down the hall, and out the door.

Here we go
, I thought, a bit nervously.

We got to the Blue Martini, a little after ten o’clock, and the place was nice but not too crowded.  It was very large with an open floor plan.  There were several bars that served drinks spread sporadically throughout and a large dance floor in the center.  It also had six pool tables near the back.  I followed Ana through the bar until we found an area deemed appropriate for us to sit.

“Don’t worry, by eleven this place will be hopping,” Ana stated as if reading my mind.  “I wanted to make sure we got a seat at the bar.” 
She got up onto one of the tall, leather stools that framed the heart-shaped bar, and I got up onto another one of the chairs beside her.  The lighting was nice, not too dark, but the music was thumping.

“What will it be, ladies?
” The bartender asked. “First drink is on the house tonight!”

“Club soda for me, and a d
-i-r-t-y, d-i-r-t-y martini for my sis,” Ana winked at him as she stressed the dirty and made lascivious eyes at the blonde hunk of a bartender.  Ana usually didn’t go for blondes, but this guy was a real beefcake muscle-head, and that was her type.  She loved the body builder types. He also looked to be in his mid-twenties to late twenties.  Another plus for her, she liked them younger.

“Be right back,
ladies,” he drawled and winked back at Ana.  From the corner of my eye, I saw her draw her tongue across her top lip as he turned to the wall of alcohol behind him to mix my drink.

“I am designated
driver tonight.  I may have one drink later, but nurse that one.  I only want you to have three tops or you will never forgive me tomorrow.  If someone buys us drinks, don’t worry, I’ll dump them when no one is looking, so just sip that one.”

She
didn’t have to tell me that.  I wasn’t much of a drinker anyway, not anymore, but once an older sister, always an older sister, and breaking her of the habit of bossing me around wasn’t worth the effort.  “Yes, ma’am,” I responded.

Our drinks arrived and I took a
sip of the delicious cocktail.  I loved martinis and indulged in one every now and then.  A group of rowdy guys to our left began to cheer as someone at the pool table sunk the eight ball.  Ana and I both glanced over.

“Oooo, army bucks! So buff!” she
drawled and elbowed me in the ribs.  I looked over at the five guys around the pool table and appreciated the view immensely.  “So, which one do you want?” she inquired.

“We just got here!”  I grumbled.

“Let’s get their attention, and then go dance.  Then they can watch us!”  She laughed shrilly and sure enough they looked our way.  I was embarrassed, and began to turn away when one of the guys caught my eye.  He lifted his beer in our direction, and took a long sip as he watched me over his bottle of Corona.  I smiled at him and turned around.  My heartbeat accelerated.  He was hot, incredibly hot.  His ice blue eyes sparked with fire almost knowingly.  How was that possible?  He definitely seemed interested.

“Gotcha,” Ana muttered, and swu
ng back around to me. How were these things so easy for her, I wondered.  I laughed at her, and she said, “Hey, he is still watching, let’s go dance.”  She grabbed me by the elbow before I could respond, and yanked me off my stool. That must have looked attractive, I thought to myself. “He’s a hunk if I ever saw one, and he is the one.”  I followed her and the music grew in tempo the closer we got to the dance floor.  She positioned me so that the guy had a good view of us dancing, and every time I glanced his way, he was still watching us.  I liked to dance and knew I did it pretty well.  Another song came on and blue eyes kept watching us.  A few guys came over and tried to dance with us, but Ana just kept steering us in another direction, not rudely, but enough to say we weren’t interested in them. I glanced at ice-blue eyes every now and then, and he would tilt his bottle at us, or wink.   God! He was gorgeous and my heart rate hitched another notch.  He wore black jeans and a white t-shirt with a Tommy Hilfiger logo on it, and the t-shirt showed that he had a fine physique.  Very fine.  His head was shaven, and his face was rugged, with a strong chin and angled cheek bones. He had a tan that indicated he spent a lot of time outdoors.  The way he kept looking at me, though, just kept my senses heightened; it felt like he was undressing me right there on the dance floor.  I couldn’t blame him though because I was doing the same thing to him.