“
And what makes you think that I
don’t
have some hot, steamy passion going?” she asked archly.
Valerie snorted as she turned to leave the office. “Oh, please. That kind of stuff shows all over a woman’s face. If you had it, we’d all know it. And you don’t have it ‘cause you don’t want it, not ‘cause you can’t get it,” she finished with a wink.
Renee was taken slightly aback. Valerie’s syntax may have been slightly garbled, but her meaning was quite clear. Renee was leading a rather dry existence despite her assortment of beaux, and it showed. Renee immediately shook off Valerie’s observation.
She doesn’t know what
she’s talking about. ‘ Shows’, indeed.
***
Irritatingly enough, though, she couldn’t get Valerie’s words out of her head. She found herself glancing in the mirror several times that day to ascertain whether or not she was looking like some dried up, drawn spinster. Satisfied that she didn’t, she went about her day’s work. By six that evening she was about done in. The afternoon shift would close up for the day, her evening manager was on board and she was in need of refreshment. On impulse, she decided to go by
Carlo’s
. There was nothing like some fervent attention from one of her beaus to improve her mood, and Carlo was nothing but attentive.
Carlo Gianelli was another of Renee’s steady dates although she had only been dating him for about eight months. At 40, he was the youngest of the men that she saw on a regular basis, and he was arguably the sexiest. Carlo was six feet two inches of Italian virility from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. He was the owner of several popular restaurants and bistros in both Detroit and Windsor, Canada. He was outgoing and gregarious, as his chosen profession would indicate. Although he was born in Italy, he had grown up all over Europe. His mother died in childbirth, and it had been just Carlo and his father Dante Gianelli the famous opera singer, until Dante had met Suzanne Foster, an African-American diva singing a season at La Scala.
They fell in love and married when Carlo was three. Suzanne was the only mother Carlo knew and he was devoted to her. He also had three younger sisters who were the product of that marriage. He grew up surrounded by beautiful black women and made no secret of the fact that he adored them. The fact that he was so easy in her company was one of the reasons that Renee was drawn to Carlo; she felt that this was not a case of jungle fever, but that he could really appreciate her as a woman. Furthermore, Carlo was a gentleman. A man as good-looking as he could expect more than his share of feminine attention, but Carlo never tried any cheap moves on her in, which she thoroughly appreciated.
This was the first time that Renee had ever just dropped in at his midtown establishment,
Carlo’s
, although he had invited her to do so many times. She knew that he was likely to be there since it was his newest restaurant and required more of his attention. If he was there, fine, if not it would be equally fine—she would have a nice glass of wine and then go home. And besides, she just looked too good to go straight home. She was wearing a wrap dress the color of a ripe peach in silk jersey and the way it enhanced her body simply deserved to be seen. She owed it to Carlo to brighten up his day, she thought. And sure enough, he was there, standing behind the bar in the lounge area and looking utterly delectable.
The restaurant that bore his name was intimate, yet spacious. It was in a building that had been converted from a warehouse to office space and condominiums.
Carlo’s
took up most of the first floor of the building and still had the exposed brick interior walls and plank flooring. It was simply decorated with black wooden chairs and tables that seated small groups. The low hanging fixtures with wine-colored shades gave a soft, seductive glow. It was the perfect setting for an intimate tryst. Renee mentally appraised the premises as she made her way to the bar. It was cozy, elegant and romantic, a pleasant surprise to the eye and the ear. The music that played softly was the kind of jazz that was perfect for fine dining by candlelight. Renee approved heartily of his establishment and told him so.
Carlo had looked mildly surprised at seeing Renee enter the restaurant, but that didn’t stop him from being his most gracious. He seated her at the bar and proceeded to pour her a glass of a very fine wine that he knew she favored. Renee was slightly puzzled by his demeanor, though. She had turned her head slightly to accommodate the soft kiss he normally pressed on her cheek, only to find that it was not forthcoming. He didn’t seem uncomfortable with her presence; he just seemed less interested which, of course, was impossible. Renee wasn’t usually put in the position of ascertaining a man’s continuing interest in her, but after her strange conversation with Valerie she felt compelled to do so.
“
Well, Carlo,” she began, “I haven’t heard from you lately. Have you been out of town?” This last remark had a slightly more pointed edge than she would have liked, but it was too late to take it back. Luckily, Carlo did not seem to notice.
“
No, I’ve been right here,” he answered cheerfully. He went on to ask how she had been and make the kind of small talk that one makes with old high school classmates. Renee was nonplussed, to say the least. He wasn’t making any effort to get into her good graces, nor was he pressing for a date. What was up, here? As if he could hear what she was thinking, Carlo gently informed her that he was seeing someone exclusively.
“
I’ve actually known her for a couple of years, but she was dating someone else. Now that relationship is finally over, and I was able to persuade her to go out with me,” Carlo said with a satisfied smile.
Renee couldn’t help herself; the question came out before she could stop it. “How long have you been seeing this woman?” God, was that her accusing voice?
Again, Carlo didn’t seem to notice. He was happy to tell her that they had been dating for about a month. It had been about a month since she and Carlo had done anything together, Renee reflected.
Now I know why,
she thought angrily. It didn’t occur to her that she could have easily called him as he often invited her to do. She had always let him do all the calling as she did with all her swains. She was feeling irrationally upset over Carlo’s announcement, as though he had been toying with her. Suddenly his face lit up in a way she hadn’t seen before.
“
What a coincidence; there she is now,” he said happily. Unable to stop herself, Renee turned her head to see a small, slender, blonde woman heading in their general direction. Carlo quickly came from behind the bar and started walking to the front of the restaurant. He walked right past the small blonde until he reached a beautiful African-American woman who had something in her hands. She was wearing jeans and a red, bulky sweater. Her hair was, even in the dim light, a mass of shiny, silky black curls that were obviously natural. And her skin was as dark as Renee’s own. Renee had to admit that she was quite lovely, even though she was a rather large package. She was a big, healthy woman with lots of curves and it was obvious that Carlo was enamored of each and every one of them.
Oh, hell, they’re coming over here!
Renee longed for an escape route but there was none to be had. Carlo brought the woman over to Renee and introduced them.
“
Renee, this is Angela,” he said in a caressing voice, never taking his eyes from the woman. “Angela, this is Renee.”
Angela smiled, revealing perfectly straight white teeth and deep dimples in both cheeks. She and Renee exchanged hellos and before they could go any further, Carlo interrupted.
“
Cara
, what are you doing here with no coat on? You could catch a cold. And I’m going to be at your place in a couple of hours anyway,” he murmured.
Angela turned that 100-watt smile on him and explained that she was bringing him her key, in case she was in the shower when he arrived. “And to bring you this,” she added, giving him a sheaf of flowers wrapped in green florist paper. “A preview to your birthday celebration,” she said sweetly.
Carlo inhaled the fragrance of the freesias and stargazer lilies before kissing her on the cheek. “
Cara
, you are so thoughtful,” he said.
She touched his cheek and told him she had to run. Making the usual ‘nice to meet you’ noises at Renee, she waved at them both and started to leave. Carlo watched her for a moment and then went to catch up with her, as if he could not bear to let her out of his sight. And indeed, he kissed her quickly and passionately at the door and walked her out to make sure she got into her car safely.
Renee didn’t know whether to wind her fanny or scratch her watch. She was too stunned to get up and leave during the little performance, plus she had to admit she was fascinated in some bizarre way. What she had witnessed wasn’t some little show that Carlo had put on for her benefit; it was some of that hot steamy stuff that Valerie had been yattering about earlier. Was this what she had been missing and did she really want any of it? And why hadn’t Carlo tried to have any of it with her, anyway?
Her turmoil was written across her face as plainly as though it were tattooed there. Her much vaunted self-control and aloofness had fled south, at least for that moment. Carlo couldn’t ignore her obvious discomfiture on his return to the bar. Being a straightforward kind of man, he commented on it.
“
Renee, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you seem a little upset that I have a committed relationship with Angela. And I know that couldn’t be the case because you have no interest in me other than as a casual dining companion. Yet, I’m sensing a little pique on your part,” he said kindly.
Renee took a long sip of wine before answering. “I wouldn’t say that ‘pique’ is a good word for what I’m feeling. I’m simply not used to being dumped so unceremoniously. And certainly not in the presence of the person who supplanted me in someone’s affections. That’s going to take a bit of getting used to,” she said bitchily. She couldn’t believe what she had blurted out, but there was obviously no going back. She angrily snatched her Dooney & Burke handbag from the bar and was about to get off the barstool in a big hurry when Carlo stopped her.
“
Renee, what’s this all about? In all the time that we’ve been seeing each other you never indicated any kind of interest in me. You never once called me, you never accepted my invitations to drop by and see me, you refused all invitations to come to my home, and you were certainly not interested in having a physical relationship with me. Now you’re acting like you’re deeply wounded because I’m seeing someone else. What’s the deal?” he asked in his most reasonable tone of voice.
It was the very neutrality of his voice that was so annoying to Renee. Instead of answering his questions, she chose to zero in on one comment. “Yes, well, the first time I take you up on your offer to ‘drop by’ you see what I get. It’s quite obvious that you were just using me because you couldn’t have Miss What’s-Her-Name and I don’t appreciate it in the least,” she said unfairly. She knew she was way off base, but she had put her feet on the slippery slope to stupidity and couldn’t seem to get off before sliding straight to the bottom. Carlo, however, was not going to let her embarrass herself further.
“
Renee, we’re obviously not going to see eye to eye on this, at least not tonight. I hate to leave you, but as you no doubt overheard, it’s my birthday and I have a celebration planned. Take care of yourself.” And with a slight bow, he left her to stew.
It felt as though hot needles were being shoved behind her eyes. How could so much go so wrong so quickly? And not just tonight’s debacle; last night was still etched in her subconscious. In the space of two days, she had been cast aside by two of her gentleman friends. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she had been kicked to the curb for one woman who was almost 20 years her senior, and another woman who was a size 18 at least. Maybe a 20, who knew? All she knew was she had to get home and quickly, before more evil befell her. Snatching her coat from the rack where Carlo had hung it up, Renee got the hell out of Dodge.
Chapter Three
Andrew was absolutely exhausted. He’d spent most of the day in surgery, working on an 8-year-old boy who would be in his care for years to come. The child had been burned over his upper body with third degree burns that had taken months to heal and would require years of restorative surgery in order to create a semblance of a normal face. The worst part of the ordeal for Andrew was the fact that the child’s father had set him on fire, supposedly to show the boy’s mother, his ex-wife, how much he wanted them back. It was no consolation to Andrew that the man had also killed himself.
“
Benita, I hope that asshole is burning in Hell as we speak,” Andrew confessed. He was sprawled on the couch in the basement recreation room of Bennie’s house. He often took refuge at Bennie’s after a day like the one he’d experienced. He had a bottle of Vernor’s ginger ale in his hand, but he wasn’t drinking it. He put the bottle down on the table next to the couch and rubbed his hand across his brow. That he was in anguish was plain by the furrows in his forehead and the tension around his mouth.
Bennie didn’t censure him for his profanity, because she knew better than anyone did how deeply he cared about his patients and how much he loved children. “Andrew, you know what? You’re going to make a wonderful father someday. It’s why you’re so compassionate about your patients.”