Sinful Chocolate (6 page)

G
isella's business was booming.

Word of mouth from Charlie's surprise birthday party continued to spread like wild fire. And now Waqueisha kept calling with outrageously large orders to fill for people in Atlanta's entertainment industry.

After running around like a chicken with its head cut off, she realized that she did need help and took Isabella up on her offer.

“Trust me,” Isabella boasted. “By this time next year, Ms. Winfrey will be naming your chocolates as one of her favorite things.”

Smiling, Gisella shook her head. “When you dream, you dream big, don't you?”

“You just concentrate on making your wonderful treats, and leave the business end to me.”

Gisella drew a deep breath and resolved to do just that. The two new business partners huddled together over her sister's dining-room table and discussed everything from hiring more help to balancing their budget. The task was made a little difficult with Sasha constantly jumping on the table and waiting to be petted.

Finally, around ten o'clock, Derrick started blowing up Isabella's cell phone and urging her to come home.

On his fourth call, Gisella smiled at her new partner. “We better call it night,” Gisella said.

Isabella agreed, though it was clear she was still excited about this latest career change. “I'll see you bright and early at the shop,” she said, giving Gisella a final hug at the door.

When she turned to leave, Gisella could no longer ignore the anxious knot looping in her stomach. “Um…”

Isabella stopped with her hand frozen on the door. “Yes?”

Suddenly feeling foolish, Gisella shifted her weight nervously from side to side. “I was wondering if, um, you heard from Charlie again.”

A single brow inched higher towards the center of Isabella's forehead. “Not since we saw him at the bank Friday.”

Gisella nodded and swallowed the lump in the center of her throat.

“Why?” Isabella pressed.

Unable to stop the heat from rushing into her face, Gisella's brain short-circuited while she tried to come up with a sufficient excuse for her inquiry. When all she could manage was to bump her gums in silence, a knowing smile eased across Isabella's face.

“You like him, don't you?”

No. Just say no
. “He's…interesting.”

Isabella snickered. “I think that's putting it mildly—especially after that weird episode at the bank.”

“Well, you definitely gave that loan officer a good piece of your mind,” Gisella said, laughing.

“After I'd finally recovered from my shock. Poor Charlie. I just know he was humiliated.”

“Well.” Gisella tilted her head, hedging. “Are we sure that he didn't deserve it? I mean…I've heard rumors.”

Isabella drew a deep breath and Gisella thought that maybe she shouldn't be questioning her about a friend. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—I mean, forget I said anything.”

“No. No. It's fine,” Isabella assured her. “I mean…Charlie does have quite a reputation. A lot of it is true, unfortunately.” She took another breath. “Of course, Derrick had the same reputation, too, before we met.”

Gisella nodded and remembered the covetous glances women made toward the handsome Derrick Knight at the party. She also remembered how he only had eyes for his wife. “You're a lucky woman.”

“I am,” Isabella agreed, blushing. “There's not a morning I don't wake up and pinch myself.”

Gisella relished finding another hopeless romantic. “My sister seems to think there aren't any good single men out here anymore. She's given up.”

Isabella cocked her head. “What about you?”

“Me?” Gisella echoed.

“Yeah, you. Has your ex turned you off to finding true love?”

“
Tell her
,” Fantasy Charlie whispered against her ear.

“No.” Gisella cleared her throat. “Of course not.”

Fantasy Charlie chuckled and brushed a kiss against the back of her neck.

“Good,” Isabella said. “I'm glad to hear it. I truly believe that if I could find true love, then surely someone as beautiful as you should have no problem.”

Gisella frowned at the odd comment.

“And don't let the rumors about Charlie dissuade you.”

“
You should listen to the girl.
” Fantasy Charlie moved next to Isabella and folded his arms.

“Charlie is like a big kid. A lot of the women he's dated act like little girls. They just keep putting his favorite toys in front of him and then act shocked when someone with newer or bigger toys lures him away.”

“She has an interesting way of putting things,”
Charlie said.

Gisella giggled.

Isabella smiled. “What I mean is, Charlie will act more like a man when he meets a real woman. Does that make sense?”

Fantasy Charlie shook his head. “
No.
”

“It makes perfect sense,” Gisella answered and then gave Isabella another departing hug. “I'll see you in the morning.”

After Isabella left the apartment, Gisella closed the door and slumped back against it.

“
I thought she would never leave,
” Fantasy Charlie said, easing up to her and brushing a kiss along her neck. “
What do you say we go back to the bedroom and have a little fun?
”

Gisella glanced up at him, thinking over Isabella's words about the real Charlie being a big kid. “Not tonight. I have a headache.”

 

“Do you know anyone who'd want to do this to you, sir?” Officer Todd asked, with his notepad and pen in hand.

“Not off the top of my head,” Charlie grumbled and massaged his throbbing temples. He took another hard look around his ransacked apartment and felt the blood boil in his veins.

“You said that you filed another police report yesterday about your car being vandalized?”

Charlie nodded and couldn't help but feel he'd been cast into some pathetic B-movie horror flick.

Officer Todd frowned. “Are you sure you can't think of anyone, sir? Perhaps an ex-wife or old girlfriend…or boyfriend?”

“What?”

“Sorry—but we never know. Since nothing was stolen, clearly this was a crime of passion.”

Charlie flashed the man an irritated glare. “I'm not gay, and I've never been married.”

“And your old girlfriends?” the officer asked undaunted.

“That's obviously a different matter,” Charlie said, exhaling a long breath, racing through a list in his mind. When no woman stood out in his mind, a painful throbbing at his temples began to hammer double time. “I'll have to get back to you on that one.”

“All right.” Officer Todd scribbled a few more notes on his notepad and then handed Charlie a card. “Just give us a call if you're able to think of anything else.”

“Sure thing.” Charlie slid the card into his pocket and then held the door open while the officer and his partner made their exit. Once they were gone, he shut the door and took another disheartening look at the damage before him.

With no other choice, Charlie rolled up his sleeves and got busy cleaning. Hours later, he gave up and decided the job was going to require real professionals. Close to midnight he limped over to the bar and found one unbroken bottle of Jack Daniels and poured himself a drink.

It took three before he was completely relaxed.

“An ex-girlfriend or boyfriend.” He laughed. Hell, what else was he going to do? As he continued to survey the damage, he reflected over his cavalier lifestyle and the numerous one-night stands. Up until now, he'd viewed it all as harmless fun. He'd never made or broken any promises, nor had he asked for any in return. He always made sure his dates had a great time, and then they were free to go on their merry separate ways.

Maybe he had been too naive.

Charlie stood up from the bar and hobbled to his bedroom—another disaster area. At least he was able to clear off a space on the bed so he'd have some place to sleep tonight. He reached underneath the mattress and hoped what he was searching for was still there. He panicked for a moment, but then his hand finally brushed against the spine of a book.

Smiling, Charlie set his whiskey down on the nightstand and pulled out his thick little black book. Such a book was the hallmark of every true playa. His didn't just contain the names and numbers of the beautiful women who'd been so gracious with their time and bodies, but also notes and a very intricate rating system he'd conjured up in high school.

The book was his most treasured possession.

He flipped through the pages, and a flutter of memories danced before his eyes. If the good Lord did decide his time was up, Charlie realized he'd lived one hell of a life—just not a complete one.

Charlie's smile disappeared as a lump of regret clogged his throat and reality hit him hard. Obviously, he had broken a few hearts over the years, and if he was facing the end of his life maybe he should be using this time to right a few wrongs.

He returned to the first page of his black book and read the first name—Abby. “Three and a half stars.” That wasn't too bad, he thought and picked up the phone.

As he dialed, he thought briefly about what he would say. He drew a blank while the line rang but before he could hang up, a woman answered.

“Hello.”

“Uh, hello.” He clutched the phone. “Is, um, Abby there?”

“This is she.”

“Oh, Abby.” He cleared his throat and tried to control a wave of panic. “This is, um, Charlie—Charlie Masters. You probably don't remember me—”

“Charlie Masters!” She perked up. “Oh, my God. I can't believe it's you.”

He smiled at the reception. Maybe this won't be so hard after all.

“My goodness.” She sighed. “How have you been?”

“Not so good. I'm dying.” He blurted and then smacked a hand across his forehead.

“What?”

“That didn't come out right.”

“You mean…” She gasped.

Charlie immediately knew she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. “No. No. No. No. It's not what you thinking,” he rushed to say. “I don't have a sexually transmitted disease,” he stressed. “It's not that at all.”

“What, then?” she asked, obviously confused. “Is it cancer?”

“No.” He exhaled again and felt his migraine return. “It's aplastic anemia.”

“It's a plastic what?”

“It's just a rare form of anemia.”

The line fell silent.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Oookay,” she said hesitantly. “Sooo, why are you calling?”

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “I was doing a lot of thinking, and I wanted apologize for, uh…” He looked down at his notes in the book. “Standing you up that time.”

“You mean…senior prom?”

Charlie frowned and squinted down at the book. Apparently his intricate system didn't include dates. “Yeah, well. Again…sorry.”

There was another long silence.

“So, I'll let you go. It was nice talking to you.” He quickly disconnected the call. “Real smooth,” he said, rolling his eyes and reaching for his drink again.

Still, he thought after a moment, it didn't go too bad. He probably just needed to tighten up his speech a bit and try to just concentrate on the women outside of high school.

Charlie glanced at the clock and realized that it was getting late. He picked up the book again. Tomorrow he would call Allison…and Anna.

“I
s this some kind of joke?” Allison asked, frowning at him over her Belgian waffle.

Charlie glanced around the Georgia Diner, smiled at a few people he suspected were eavesdropping and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No. It's no joke,” he said, praying there wouldn't be an explosion. He had no idea what possessed him to do this in person. It might have had a lot to do with the fact that he'd generally liked Allison. Once he remembered who she was.

They'd met in a public library. She had her nose buried in a mystery book. He was struggling with a term paper.

Allison was kind and nurturing. However, she was also a tad bit clingy and had a habit of laughing like a hyena.

“You mean you weren't a secret agent for the CIA?”

Oh, yeah…she was a little gullible, too.

“Sorry,” he said, cringing. “I'm afraid not.”

“What about that elaborate story about a covert mission to bring down the Hawaiian Mafia in New Jersey?”

Hawaiian Mafia?
“Never been to New Jersey.”

Allison lowered her fork and eased back in her chair. “So, what? I'm supposed to feel sorry for you because
now
you're about to kick the bucket? Is that it?”

“Not exactly.” He shifted in his chair. “I just want to apologize and bring closure if you thought that I've done anything to—”

“Unbelievable!” Allison crossed her arms. “The only reason I slept with you was because I thought I had a patriotic and civil duty. You
said
you were leaving for a top secret mission in Mauritania and that you may not survive. I thought you were dead for the last fourteen years?”

Charlie cocked his head, thinking she was taking this a bit too far. “C'mon. That is
not
why you slept with me.”

Allison rolled her eyes, but a smile teased the corners of her lips. “So what's the play this time? You have six months to live, and now you want me to take you back to my place for one last fling?”

Leaning his elbow on the table, Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. That's not it.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointment clearly in her tone. “Would you like to go back to my apartment?”

He frowned. “Aren't you married now?”

“Marcus doesn't get out on parole until next month.”

“Uh, thanks, but…I'll pass.”

Allison shrugged. “Can't blame a girl for trying.”

 

Charlie's relationship with Anna was complicated. Even though they'd never dated or were intimate, Anna was perhaps the closest female friend he'd ever had. To him, she was like a sister—smart and easygoing. They met at a frat party back when he attended Morehouse and she the neighboring Spelman College. A friend of hers, Nicole something-or-another, had too much to drink and was unable to drive and Anna had never driven a stick shift.

Charlie and Taariq stepped forward and helped her out by driving them back to their dorms. It was the beginning of a nice friendship, especially when he discovered that she was a whiz in calculus. Unfortunately, their relationship was derailed a year later when Charlie grew interested in her new roommate Roxanne.

Roxanne had the hottest body on campus, and Charlie was just one in a long line trying to hook up with her. For an advantage, he started milking Anna for information about her roommate—on the sly. When he started seeing Roxanne, he kept it from Anna…until she caught them in bed together.

It wasn't until she was crying and cussing him out did he realize that Anna's feelings for him went beyond friendship.

She accused Charlie of using her.

And he had—unintentionally.

She never spoke to him again.

Anna's old number was no longer in service. Charlie spent an hour at his apartment Googling and searching the white pages online for an address. If there was one woman he truly wanted to make peace with it was Anna. As it turned out, he was in luck. She still lived in Atlanta, not too far from his downtown office.

Once Charlie wrote down the new address, he stared at it, contemplating. Did he really want to do this? Finally, he stood, folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket.

 

“Ah, this is the life,” Gisella sighed, sinking deep into her bubble bath. She had waited all week for this. Sunday was the only day the shop was closed and she could use some R & R. She was determined to do absolutely nothing. With Anna still out of town, Gisella had the apartment all to herself. She could run around naked if she wanted. A tempting thought.

The first and only thing on her schedule was to pamper herself, which was why she'd borrowed one of her sister's romance books, globbed on a thick cucumber mask and poured a big glass of wine.

Fantasy Charlie showed up for a few minutes, but she quickly sent him away. After all, there was plenty of time to play with him later.

In no time, the stress of the past week seeped out of her body, and she fell fast asleep. When she awoke, the bubbles were gone, and the water was cold. Laughing, she climbed out of the tub with her fingers and toes nearly pickled and with the real challenge of removing the cucumber mask that had hardened into green concrete.

It took a lot of scrubbing, but when she was through, her skin was as soft and smooth as a newborn baby's. After blow-drying the ends of her hair, she hummed her way into her bedroom for some underwear, rubbed her favorite lotions into her skin and then danced to the kitchen for a big bowl of cereal.

No cooking today.

Still dancing, she scanned her sister's music collection. When she found an old 1980s classic, Gisella slipped the disc into the CD player and turned the volume up to full blast.

 

Charlie walked into the brownstone, puzzled by the sound of Deniece Williams's “Let's Hear It for the Boy” blaring out into the hallway. Was there a 1980s retro reunion party going on? When he realized that the music was coming from the apartment number written on his paper, he began to have second thoughts about this whole thing.

“All right, Charlie. Let's just get this over with,” he coached, drawing a deep breath. He knocked on the door and waited. When it was clear no one heard him, he rang the bell and knocked again.

Still no answer.

He thought to wait for the song to fade, but it immediately launched into Kenny Loggins's “Footloose.”

Now, he started hammering and shouting, “Hello!”

As a last ditch effort, he tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. He paused for a moment, then slowly turned the knob. “Hello!” He entered the apartment.

Kenny Loggins continued to cut loose as Charlie inched further into the apartment.

“Hello! Anybody?”

Charlie rounded a corner and faced the living room. He stopped in his tracks. There, in all her Victoria's Secret glory, danced an ebony goddess holding an orange cat. The ability to speak or even to process thought grinded to a halt. Surely, he looked like a cartoon with his mouth hanging open and his tongue rolling onto the floor.

Gisella jiggled and wiggled and really got into the old movie soundtrack. She was completely clueless of Charlie's presence, much less how his erection was trying to steeple like an Egyptian pyramid in his pants.

Forget six months, Charlie had died and gone to heaven the moment he'd entered this apartment.

Then something incredible happened. Gisella turned around and flashed him a smile.

“Hello, lover,” she singsonged playfully.

Charlie looked over his shoulder to make sure she was talking to him.

She was.

To his surprise, she danced and bopped her way toward him with a sly smile and the unmistakable glint of seduction in her eyes.

Hot damn. This is my lucky day.

When she was within inches of him, the scent of strawberries swirled around his senses, making him light-headed…and incredibly horny.

“How about a kiss?” she asked.

Before he could answer, she planted her full breasts against his chest and swept her sweet tongue inside his mouth. He moaned and started to wrap his arms around her waist when she suddenly jerked back and screamed.