MadameFrankie (13 page)

“I just don’t know if I could handle it.”

“I’ll tell you what. Edgar and I are getting together
tonight in my apartment. Go back to your hotel. Think about it. If you decide
you can handle it, come by around eight. If not, I’ll understand if you catch
your flight back home.”

She went to him. She bent down and gently kissed him on the
lips.

“Thank you, Frankie,” he said, standing. They stared into
each other’s eyes for a long moment.

“Go,” Frankie finally said. He nodded, turned and walked
away.

As he passed through the lobby, he caught sight of Edgar
again and it happened again. His heart fluttered. He could hardly breathe.

“I hope that we shall see you later,” Edgar said, smiling
that irresistible smile.

“
Adios
, Edgar,” Jazz fumbled, not able to look at him
anymore. He walked past him and out the lobby door.

He had to go and pack.

At 8:30 p.m. Frankie and Edgar knew. Jazz was no doubt
headed back to the States. How ironic. The previous night, Emmanuel had given
Edgar an ultimatum. Choose between him and Frankie. Edgar couldn’t do that, so
Emmanuel made the choice for him.

But there was no melancholy in Frankie’s apartment that
night. The sound of soft rhythmic music filled the living room as Frankie and
Edgar danced the
bachata
in each other’s arms. Their lives and their
love would go on.

Of course each of them still had bittersweet memories of their
respective exes. And the speculations of what could have been were unfulfilled
fantasies they had both looked forward to.

Still they understood, all things in their time.

But oh, how right Jazz was about Edgar. How handsome he was
staring into Frankie’s eyes, his hands on her hips, guiding her as they danced.
How romantic. How sexy. Years had not diminished her desire for her Latin
lover. Nor had time taken its toll on Edgar’s perennial lust for his beautiful
American lady.

And it wasn’t just the physical, the carnal that united
them. They were kindred spirits. They were adventurous souls unafraid of their
feelings, fearless in the face of emotional explorations, gleeful gluttons of
life.

“Are our spirits too free?” Frankie whimsically wondered out
loud as he twirled her ever so gracefully.

“For some?
Sí
. For us? No,
mi amore
.”

As the song came to an end, he dipped her elegantly, then
brought her back up to him and kissed her gently on the lips.

“You know, we should celebrate our free spirits,” he said softly
as he nibbled on her neck.

“You are so right, Edgar,” she whispered, swooning at his
attentiveness. “I’ll call down to the bar and have Marcel bring up a bottle of
champagne.”

“That sounds wonderful,” he said, his arms now around her
waist, pressing her into his heated loins. “And after we have finished the
champagne, we will top the evening off with best lovemaking of our lives.”

“Absolutely,” she promised.

He played with the outline of her breasts beneath her blouse
as she picked up the phone and dialed.

“¡Hola!”
Héctor answered.

“Hola, Héctor. ¿Por favor haga Marcel subir una botella
de champán?”

“En seguida, Frankie.”

“Gracias, Héctor.”

She hung up the phone and smiled. He kissed her smile, long
and juicily.

“Oh Edgar, what would I do without you?” she begged with a
sigh, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What will you do without Jazz?” he asked teasingly, pecking
her gently on the nose.

“Do without I suppose. If you want to have everything that
you want, you have to stop wanting the things you can’t have. I will just have
to stop wanting him.”

“Can you?”

She had to seriously think about that. Was she that strong?

“Only time will tell,” she huffed bravely. “But in the
meantime, I have you and that is wonderful.”

“It is wonderful that we have each other, Frankie.”

“Will you miss Emmanuel?”

“Yes. But probably no more or no less than you will miss
Jazz.”

The music started up again, slowly, sensually, rhythmically.
It beckoned them and they answered. They danced in each other’s arms again.
This time closer, comforting, reassuringly. They danced that way in silence.
Frankie laid her head on Edgar’s chest. Edgar savored the whiff of her hair and
stared out the open window.

There was a knock on the door.

“Ah. Marcel with the champagne,” Frankie said in a whisper.
She headed slowly toward the door. Edgar smiled admiringly at her lovely legs,
her sumptuous behind, her soft and sparkling hair.

She reached the door and opened it.

She held her breath at the sight of him. Edgar smiled at him
unsurprised.

“Hi,” he said, standing in the doorway.

“Jazz,” Frankie said, staring in his eyes. “Please, come
in.”

“Thank you,” he said, stepping in nervously. “I’m…I’m sorry
I’m late.”

“You’re never too late,” Frankie said, shutting the door
behind him.

“Hola, mi amigo,”
Edgar said, approaching him,
extending his hand.

“
Hola
, Edgar.” Jazz took his hand and shook it. They
didn’t immediately let go. Neither did their eyes. Frankie looked on
approvingly.

There was another knock at the door. She answered it. It was
Marcel with the champagne, appropriately iced in a silver cooler.

“
Gracias
, Marcel,” she said graciously, taking the
cooler from the handsome young man.

“De nada,”
he said knowingly, the door shutting
before him.

Frankie smiled as she turned to see Jazz and Edgar still staring
in each other’s eyes. It was just as she had dreamed. She walked over to them,
looked from one to the other. And they looked at her, lovingly, gratefully.

“Gentlemen, my two loves,” she said ever so softly, holding
the silver cooler of champagne in her arms as if it were a newborn babe. “Let
the party begin.”

The End

Stanley Bennett Clay is an award-winning novelist,
playwright, actor and filmmaker. He received three NAACP Theatre Awards and
three Drama-logue Awards for writing, directing and co-producing the stage play
“Ritual.” He made his film writing and directing debut with the feature film
adaptation, starring Clarence Williams III and Denise Nicholas. The film
received the Jury Award at the Pan African Film Festival.

He is the author of three previously published novels, a
novella, and, as the former Editor-In-Chief of Black Beat magazine, hundreds of
feature stories, book and film reviews, and celebrity interviews.

Stanley welcomes comments from readers. You can find his
email address on his
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

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Madame Frankie

ISBN 9781419942938

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Madame Frankie Copyright © 2014 Stanley Bennett Clay

Edited by Victoria Reese

Cover design by Dar Albert

Cover photography by Fyle/fotolia.com, hotdamnstock.com

Electronic book publication January 2014

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