It Had Been Years (31 page)

Nadrea
left the table before Vincent and found her way to the front of the restaurant engaging the Latin in playful banter, as Vincent trailed behind a few minutes later after finalizing the check and sauntering across the room finishing his drink.  He walked up to the Latin, who kissed him on the cheek offering the parting comment “See you later.”  He in his utmost cocksure voice said “absolutely”.  The Latin had never kissed him like that before, but he just assumed it was a woman playing off the potential jealousies of
another,
he in fact kind of enjoyed it.

Nadrea
opened the door Vincent following behind her stepped out on the sidewalk as they strolled toward Broadway.  The pair’s pace slow and aimless. 

“So how was your day dear?” Vincent said mockingly. 

“Uninspired, the damn train was late, Daddy called and oh by the way we’re having brunch with him and Mommy on Sunday” she said in her own unique interpretation of a modern day June Cleaver. 

Vincent laughed “The train was late?” 

“Yes” she said before reliving her entire morning tirade from 54
th
down to 50
th
.  The remainder of the conversation was mundane as they got to the door of the W standing in the lobby, water rushing overhead and down the walls.  But the walk had been filled with the sounds and sights that only New York can offer. 

Soon they found themselves in the bar, Vincent with his water and
Nadrea
with a Margarita continuing what she had begun during dinner. 

“Where are your bags?” Vincent asked. 

“Daddy’s”

“No, really does the bell staff have them?” he asked “or did they take them up for you?” 
Nadrea
seeing a chance to gain a small advantage on Vincent “They’re at my parents.  You didn’t ask me to stay with you, you asked me to meet you here.” 

“Ok so we’re twelve again, fine I’ll make sure you get a written invitation to my birthday party.”  Vincent just laughed. 

“Seriously you didn’t ask, so I decided to spend tonight at my parents” 

Vincent was now the one who was annoyed “Your choice” He drank his bottled water.  “I’d like to see the room.  Maybe if you ask me to, I’ll stay the next few nights.” 

Vincent was sure he could convince her to change her mind, but he didn’t feel like putting forth the effort.  “You want one for the road?” he asked.

“Sure how about a few for the road and flowers would be nice.”
 

“What kind of flowers?”

“Pretty ones, surprise me.” 

He handed
Nadrea
a key after a few more drinks for her and bottles of water for him. “Where are you going?” she asked as he stood up and began making his way through the crowded bar.  “Flowers pretty ones.  Remember?” and he disappeared onto the elevators back onto 47
th
and left toward Seventh Avenue. 

A few blocks down on the far side of the street
was
a grocery store that had an amazing collection of flowers for sale right there on the street.  For all of the ugliness of New York, the crime, the cold cement, the piles of garbage and early morning stench there were unbelievable little things that made it special ,one of which was the corner store filled with beautiful fresh flowers, a simple indulgence affordably priced and often over looked.  The selection was wide and rich with different types and colors an array of texture and fragrance. 

Vincent lingered behind the clear plastic and green canvas covers that had been lowered not only for the night but due to the coolness of the evening.  Vincent conversed with the older Chinese man manning the
flowers,
the heavily accented broken English transcended his love of the flowers he had so precisely arranged, presenting them not to promote their sale, but their beauty.  If they were sold he would share their beauty with others and if not he would enjoy them for as long as they remained in his care. Vincent chose several assortments of lilies, a mix of pale yellows and soft peaches intermingled with the occasional splash of pink.  He stood there with an armload, Vincent for all of his bravado considered flowers to be an exceptional thing in life.  While his love of flowers was not openly discussed you could almost always find potted plants in bloom throughout his home and office, their green foliage adding contrast to his otherwise minimalist style. 

Perhaps it was the fond memories of his round old grandmother tending to her gardens in the summer pouring out her love into each and every seedling in each bed.  Her house was littered with cactus and spider plants.  She had a window box in the kitchen filled with basil, and chives, an assortment of oregano and thyme a never ending supply to be used in her days cooking.  The most abundant was parsley that she not only garnished her dished with but fed to her Guinea pig as a daily treat.  Her sun porch was filled with roses exclusively, tea cup roses to full sized bushes kept in a perpetual state of bloom though careful tending and nourishment.  The pinks and reds dominated her color palate, shifting shades and
varieties to create a well orchestrated symphony of color and fragrance.  In the bathrooms small containers of Violets, that loved the moisture found in the air from the bath tub and the soft light that snuck through the frosted windows.  She had lavender scattered throughout in large containers. Pansies in the front garden and in the summer the blue and pink hues of the morning glories could be seen adorning her front porch’s rails and columns.

Just before paying Vincent spotted two calla lilies, their delicate white splendor just beginning to fade. 

“I’ll take those too.” he said to the attendant. 

“You may have them they won’t last long
”  Vincent
paid and thanked the man the placing a twenty on the counter as he walked away. 

The attendant questioned him “Sir you left money on counter.” his accent ringing through the otherwise empty store, an honest man in a dishonest place. 

“I know it’s for you.”  

“Thank you, but I don’t take tip.” 

“It’s not a
tip,
it
’
s for flowers, for whoever you like.” 

A picture of a young girl was stashe
d on a board behind the counter.
H
e would use the money to get her flowers, pretty ones.  Just like her. 

Noir: A genre of film with a dark or disturbing tone

Femme: Contrary to gender stereotyping, many femmes are aggressive, strong women who actively seek out the sexual and social partners they desire.

So Vincent made his way back up Seventh Ave. to the W stopping on his way between elevators to have vases sent up to his room.  The Vases arrived minutes after he did and as he stood there with borrowed scissors trimming the stalk end of each flower before placing it in water.  He knew that the flowers would outlast his stay, but he hoped that the staff would take them home after he left.  He tended to keep fresh cut flowers a few days too long he just couldn’t stand to throw them away too early.  That’s when he noticed
Nadrea
wasn’t in the room.  Vincent thought nothing of it as he handed the scissors and clippings to the bellman.  Maybe she went to get her things deciding to stay after all.  Placing an arrangement on the table in the suite he found a note that read.

“
Be Back Soon,

But don’t get too comfortable!

                                          Seductively,

                                                   N”

So he found his way to the couch, finally k
icking off his dress shoes with
out taking the time to untie them, he fumbled with the remote and turned on sports center.  He sat mindlessly watching an unremarkable day’s sporting news. It was not unlike most nights around eleven for him, planted firmly in front of a TV watching sports center. 

A few minutes later the door opened, “Hello”
Nadrea
called out
,  “
In here.” Vincent responded, noticing that there was more than one set of footsteps but giving it no real thought, he just figured that she had a bellman with luggage in tow.  A series of in audible whispers were taking place, but he was too concerned with the NFL injury report to care. 

Nadrea
entered the room “You sure got a lot of flowers.” 

Vincent breaking the trance that the TV had been holding over him looked at her “I guess, do you like them?” He actually cared whether or not she did.

“They are very nice, how did you find them arranged at this hour?” 

Vincent laughed “I didn’t, I arranged them.” 

“Really?
I’m shocked.” 
Nadrea
hadn’t considered Vincent to have any diversions except for where to put his dick next after he had finished. 
Nadrea
walked up to Vincent after looking at the assortment of flowers, leaned in to kiss him.

“I brought you a present” she whisp
ered as soft footsteps fell be
hind him.  Vincent could see the devilish smile on her face as she stood back up. 

Nadrea
continued “There’s only one rule” she said playfully.  Vincent still taking it in only moderately interested in what she was saying,
Nadrea
continued to tempt him. 

“You have to unwrap your present in front of me and you might only get to play with your gift once so you had better make the most of it.” 

“Well if I like it that much I’ll go buy myself another one” Vincent said thinking that a the gift couldn’t possibly be so rare that he couldn’t easily acquire another exact replica to enjoy over an
d over with
out
Nadrea’s
silly rules.

“Close your eyes.” Vincent sat watching TV. “Vin you’ve got to play along” She turned off the TV and placed and lit a few candles she had brought back with her.  The candles looked strangely familiar as she placed them in equally familiar glass containers before sliding them behind the arrangements, casting the flowers shadows across the room, a room that was filled with the light of an already well illuminated city, the blinds hadn’t been pulled.  

Vincent finally closed his eyes as wa
s he asked and two sets of foots
teps were heard, one set were
Nadrea’s
  but the other was slow and measured, they sounded like a pair of heels.   “Ok, you can open your eyes.” 

Vincent opened his eyes to find the Latin standing right in front of him, after gazing back at her silently admiring her presence in front of him.  

“Well do you like your present?” she
ask
playfully. 

“Of course I do, she’s absolutely stunning.”  He said coyly, “I’ve been admiring her for years.” 

The Latin stood there, her long dark hair down and slightly covering her face and dark eyes, the silhouette of her hips accented by the soft light flickering from behind her.  Vincent stood and she stepped in to kiss him, but he was looking away at
Nadrea
. 

“And now do what I told you.”
Nadrea
repeated moderately annoyed that Vincent hadn’t connected the dots “You have to
unwrap
her in front of me!”

Vincent laughed his most wicked little laugh, not his hearty having fun laugh, but something darker and more sinister, the laugh of a deranged mad man in a bad Hollywood movie. 

“And you?” he asked
Nadrea
as he began to slide the Latin’s hair from her face kissing her before looking back to
Nadrea
for a response.