Mi Carino (2 page)

She moved away from him, blowing hard breaths. She kept her back to him. It killed him when she turned from him. “It’s too late. I’m empty. Just like you. I’m empty inside.”

She went to her coat and slipped it on. Diego walked around her to block her in.

“
I’ll send Susan to pick up my things,” she said circling him wide to keep from being within his reach. Ginger the cat purred and she swept the white ball of fur into her arms. He tried to cut her off again but she sidestepped him—again.

“
Marcella. Marcella? Marcella?”

At the door, with her hand to the silver knob she paused. Then she turned it and walked out.

The air drained from his lungs. His eyes stretched to the point of watering. He pressed three fingers to his temple and rubbed hard, as if to wake himself from a nightmare. Then he dropped on the wall and every mistake he made with her since the moment they met hit him like a falling brick.

Chapter One

“
What do you mean you’re on your way? I’m in my pajamas,” Marcella tossed a triangular cheesy Dorito chip into her mouth. A myriad of tangy spices exploded over her tongue. She munched on delicious crunchiness. She licked the sprinkle of crumbs from her lips and wiggled her freshly painted pink toes. Ginger, her cat, swiped her tongue over her kitty jowls and yawned hungrily, from across the room.

“
Are you kidding me? Nava has jazz all night and a little wine tasting. You swore you wouldn’t do this. I have friends meeting us there.”

Marcella reclined in her favorite lounger, wishing the remote wasn’t over on the sofa. When Susan said that there were ‘friends meeting us there’ it usually meant she’d be ambushed with some pathetic hook up.
No thanks.

“
Sorry sweetie, I got home and my inbox was flooded.” Marcella took her job as the Acquisition Director and Manager at Garrison’s Antiquities seriously. She was the youngest in the field. The gallery was more like a museum though, with non-artistic works dated from the Dawn of Civilization, mostly from Greece, Egypt, Rome and other Mediterranean civilizations. “You understand don’t you?”

“
No. I understood when you said you needed time to recover after Richard. I swear I did. What that asshole did to you—”

“
Stop. Don’t go there, not tonight.”

“
Marcella it’s been months since you dropped the loser. It’s time to live it up girl.”

Marcella stifled the bubble of laughter building in her throat. Live it up? How could a night in a smoky jazz club with some guy named Cliff or Bob pawing you, be living it up? “Let’s do lunch, tomorrow it’s on me. I swear.” Marcella offered.

“
Oh hell, never mind. I give up. Have a good night eating Doritos and playing with Ginger.” The phone line disconnected. Marcella shrugged and dug out more crumbs than chips from the bottom of the bag. Susan would be over it by the morning. If not she’d buy her a bottle of her favorite merlot, and they’d do a movie night together. She loved her for trying, but there was something to be said about the sanctity of one’s comfy chair. It would be criminal to leave it at this point.

The television switched to a commercial with a young woman seated between two guys, trying to decide between them based on the whitest smile. Marcella had to work at remembering the last time a guy caught her attention with just a smile. Every date she’d been on in the past year had bored her to tears. It would be nice to have the tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach return, to actually have someone to curl up with and keep her warm. Not necessarily a relationship, just some of the benefits of one. Casual sex in the past never worked. Men would get attached, and she’d have to pull a Houdini to shake them off. The one time she went for a full-fledged commitment, the jerk turned out to be legally tied to someone else.

Susan believed Marcella’s cavalier attitude about intimacy alienated suitable prospects. She was wrong. Men, or Marcella’s bad choices in them, weren’t the cause or her issue. If anything her attitude could be traced to the solitary existence she lived with her single, African American mom, who had been a schoolteacher, and the non-existence of her Afro-Cuban father. A man she’d never met. Though Marcella’s mocha brown skin, raven black hair, and high cheekbones were to his compliment, his absence remained the sole reason she didn’t trust easily. Who needed the trouble of heartache? Therefore, Doritos and Ginger would have to do, for now.

“
What do you think Ginger? Am I pathetic? Shouldn’t I be on the hunt for Mr. Right Now and look for Mr. Forever later?”

The feline licked her paw then walked away. Marcella munched on another Dorito. “Thanks for nothing.”

Dusting her hands she pushed up from the lounger and headed to the sofa to search for the remote. However, the moonlight caught her eye. Marcella turned off the inside lamps and then drew open the blinds shielding her deck doors. The night sky appeared empty of clouds or stars. The moon could be seen looming above in a blanket of darkness. She’d chosen her apartment for its accessibility to her job; the added bonus proved to be her view of the bay.

Marcella went to the folding doors of her balcony and opened them allowing the cool night wind to rush over her. Tonight the sky looked lovely with an unbelievable full moon. She leaned out over her balcony ignoring the chill. She could stand for someone to touch her, make her feel special. Her chin lifted and her eyelids closed. Richard may have been a louse, but he did fulfill her most primal needs. How sweet the memory of their time together could be at times.

She could sense the power of his desire coiled tight in his muscular frame as he stepped up behind her. His hand moved gently down the length of the left side of her back. Her nightshirt stopped mid-thigh, and slowly crept upward with the aid of his fingers. His hand travelled again, to skim her hip and left thigh, inching toward her sex. The touch of his fingertips intimate, forbidden, felt light and playful. Then came the sleek caress of his fingers delving further, and her thighs parting an inch. “Marcella,” he breathed against her ear. The deep spice of his cologne was spun by the wind. It filled her. “Why don’t you call me, you know I’ll come over. Make it easy for me babe.”

Marcella’s eyes flashed open. Richard Epstein’s deep seductive voice echoed through the recesses of her mind, burning the memory of their shared passion into her thoughts. For a moment she stopped breathing. The phantom caress of her lying, manipulative, married ex-boyfriend was gone. The ache her foolish lust stirred would probably follow her into her dreams.
Make it easy for him?
The bastard!
She’d let her guard down before and it brought her nothing but heartache and regret. Her focus returned to the moon and the phantom desires crawling over her skin ceased. She allowed more pleasant memories to come in and soothe away the burn in her heart from Richard’s betrayal. The camping trips she used to take with her mother usually happened under a moon like the one above. No one understood why her single financially strapped mother would make such a trip with a child. Marcella knew the truth. Her mother loved life and wanted her to do the same. She shared once that her grandfather used to take her on camping trips along with her cousins. Marcella’s mother vowed to give her daughter the same lessons he taught her. They’d sit outside the tent and watch the sky for shooting stars and she’d learn everything from her family history to the name of each constellation.

The moon sparkled above her like a silver dollar under a spotlight. Her mother would tell her fantastic tales about the silver moon. This particular lunar beauty, bright and unrelenting, bleached the surrounding buildings in a dull brilliance and filled her with hope.

“
I think this could be a good omen.” Marcella smiled. Another gust of wind blew her hair from her brow and her ears. Suddenly she missed home and her mother. She stepped back into the warmth of her apartment. She closed the doors, locked them, and retrieved her phone from the lounger then dialed.

“
Hello?”

“
Hi Mom,” said Marcella.

“
Hi baby, what time is it?”

“
Sorry, its nine here so I guess it’s what midnight there?”

“
You okay?”

“
Yeah, it’s a full moon tonight and it got me to thinking about you.”

Her mother’s soft laughter filled the receiver. The cold ache for Richard thawed around her heart and she again felt the sense of belonging. A mother’s love could be a powerful thing. “Wait, let me see.”

Marcella picked up Ginger. The cat purred against her breast as she padded back to her bedroom out of her small living room. She passed the door to her guestroom. On most nights Susan would crash there, the uninvited roommate. Marcella had grown used to her presence and it did sting a little when she chose to stay away.

Her bedroom too was bathed in the moon’s luminance. Marcella looked to the windows and noticed the silvery glow behind her shut blinds. Ginger jumped from her arms and curled out on the bed.

“
I see it,” her mother said.

“
That’s our moon.”

“
Sure is baby. How’s work? Are you eating right? I sent you some recipes for quick dinners. Did you get them?”

“
Mom. I’m twenty-four. I’m fine,” Marcella said. She drew back the covers and shooed Ginger over to the other side of the bed.

“
I know, I just worry, and you live so far away I can’t put my hands on you when I want to.”

“
I will see you soon. In the Spring maybe? I promise.”

“
Okay,” she heard her mother yawn.

“
I’ll let you go.”

“
Call me tomorrow so you can tell me who you’re dating. Thank God that Richard character is gone.” Her mother chuckled.

Marcella rolled her eyes. “Really funny. Bye.”

“
Love you sweetheart.”

Marcella eased in under the covers and blanket. Ginger stretched then curled up into a tight ball, drifting to sleep. A call home always did the trick. Her mother lived alone, by choice. She learned early, how to be self fulfilled without the comfort of a man. Susan was wrong. There was a big difference between being alone and being lonely. Her mother taught her so.

Sleep had been brief though, as the ring of her phone woke her with start. She glanced around for a minute, breathless. Was she dreaming it? The phone rang again and Marcella switched on the lamp to her right. She picked up her cellular and frowned. “What the hell? Hello?”

“
Marcella?”

“
Why are you calling me?”

“
Don’t be angry. I got the number from Sam. She didn’t know who I was.”

“
I’m hanging up now.”

“
Wait! Please.”

Marcella sighed. “You got three minutes Richard.”

“
It’s a business call sweetheart. I have a client who has a rare piece. He’s in some financial trouble right now and I told him about you. I wanted to know if we could meet for lunch? Tomorrow?”

Marcella rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You have a client? Right.”

“
I know I screwed up. I… I have many regrets. This is legitimate. He’s Colombian. A collector. It’s an Egyptian funerary figurine of some sort. Look babe I don’t know this stuff. Will you meet with the man? He has an office above a restaurant he owns down on the board walk.”