The Horse Farm - Chapter 2-57

It was a few minutes before nine when Susan heard a knock on the door frame of the glass-walled room that she shared with three colleagues. She was startled to see Walter standing there.

"Good morning!" he said. He was wearing a charcoal suit, a pink shirt, and a pink, gray, and blue tie. He looked nervous.

"Good morning," she answered cautiously.

"Happy Monday!" 

"Happy Monday!" she repeated. Susan was wearing a blue blazer with a white shirt buttoned to the collar. Her freshly washed dark hair flowed down the sides of her face in graceful, symmetrical curves. 

"I stopped by on Friday," Walter said tentatively.

"I was out," she explained. "Working from home."

"Sorry I missed you," he said thinking that Susan had never looked so beautiful before. "I just wanted to say thanks - for the travel information."

"You don't have to thank me," she said.

"Colorado's a really nice place," he remarked.

"It's pretty," she added.

Walter thought carefully about what he wanted to say. Two of Susan's colleagues were seated at their desks. They were both on the phone, but he realized that they would be able to hear every word of this conversation.

"My schedule was kind of tight this time," he said. "I didn't get to do everything that I wanted to."

"It's a big state," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed. "There are definite some beautiful things there that I'd like to explore."

Susan looked at Walter intently. Her eyes were full of emotion, but he wasn't sure if she was still angry with him. "Well, maybe on your next trip you'll get to see more places," she suggested.

"Yeah, hopefully!" he said. "I'd like to go back to that restaurant, for instance. That was a nice evening."

"Glad you enjoyed it," she said. "You seemed a little tense."

"I guess I was," he said. "First time, and everything..."

"I understand."

"Anyway," he said, "I was hoping that maybe you could help me plan an itinerary, so I'm better prepared next time."

"I could do that," she agreed.

"I want to make sure that I don't miss anything."

"That sounds nice," she said. Her expression hadn't softened, but her tone of voice was warming.

"Maybe I can contact you," he offered, "to see if you have some time."

"That would be nice," she said.

"Same number, right?"

"Yep."

"Okay," he said. "I'll be in touch."

"Okay."

"Alright. Have a good day!" he said as he eased away from her desk.

"You, too!" she said. "Oh, Walter?"

He turn around quickly. "Yes!"

"Thanks!"

-

It was a few minutes before nine when Louise received a text from Antonio on the office messaging system. 

"Hola!"

"Hola!" she replied.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Doing well," he replied followed by, "Thanks for coming on Friday!"

"Thanks for hosting the event!" 

"I didn't think you were coming."

"Last minute change of plans," she replied.

"It was great to see you! And your friend!"

"Thanks" she typed back.

"It was so nice to dance with you again!"

"Yes, it was really nice, thanks!"

"Sorry we didn't have more time," he wrote.

"Well, you had lots of other people there."

"But only one YOU!" he messaged.

"Ah, that's sweet!"

"I thought about you this weekend."

"Oh?"

"I wanted to text you and thank you for the dances, but I thought that it might not be cool."

"You can text me if you want," Louise confirmed.

"I didn't want to cause trouble."

"I think it would be okay."

"Bueno! The next time I think about you, I'll text. Something short maybe. You can read it quickly and erase if you have to."

"That'll work!" she agreed.

"It's the same number, right?"

"Same number" she confirmed.

Beth approached Louise's desk. "Hey! Good morning!"

Louise quickly clicked on another window on her computer to bring it to the foreground. She didn't want Beth to see her text conversation with Antonio.

"Good morning!" she replied. "How was your weekend?"

"It was good!" Beth exclaimed enthusiastically. "Oh my God! Can I tell you something?"

"What?" Louise was curious.

"When you guys danced, you and Antonio..."

"Yeah?"

"It was MAGIC!"

"Really?" Louise asked. It was a nice compliment, but Beth was known to exaggerate.

"Oh my God! Yes!"

"Well, he's a really good dancer," Louise said, deflecting the credit.

"No! Listen!" Beth argued. "Antonio danced with a bunch of people that night. - Including your friend. She's cute, by the way!"

"Thanks!"

"It was not the same when he danced with you."

"Really?"

"Oh, let me tell you! Completely different ballgame!"

"Well, that's really nice, thanks!" Louise said earnestly. 

"Pure magic!" Beth said. "Everyone in the room felt it."

"Thanks!" Louise said. "We practiced a couple of times when he was here before. I guess I just remembered what to do."

Beth's mobile phone made a chiming sound. She looked at it. "Oh, that's my customer. I've gotta run."

"No problem!" Louise said.

"Talk later?"

"Sure!"

"Pure magic!" Beth repeated emphatically.

Louise laughed. "Shut up."

As Beth walked away, Louise looked back at her computer screen. A flashing window indicated an incoming text. There were two message actually, both from Antonio.

"Sent a test msg to your phone" and "Did u get it?"

Louise pulled her phone from her purse. Sure enough, there was a new text from Antonio's number. 

She opened the message.

"Te quiero"

-

Merry Christmas! The Horse Farm will return.

  

'The Horse Farm'

Copyright © 2016 Daniel R. South

All Rights Reserved

The Horse Farm - Chapter 2-56

"Hello?"

"Douglas, it's me." Terri's voice was hushed and distant. 

"Hi there! Thanks for calling." Douglas's voice was calm and soft at the moment. That helped her to remain calm, as well.

"Look, Douglas, I... I'm sorry that I couldn't meet you in person. You just really frightened me the other night. I just couldn't deal with a face to face conversation."

"It's okay," he assured her. "I understand. At least you called."

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Is anyone else there with you?" he prodded.

"No."

"Francisco's not there?"

"No, Douglas. I'm alone. What did you want to say?"

"Well, first, I wanted to thank you for agreeing to talk with me finally."

"It's okay."

"I've been looking forward to speaking with you."

Terri's heart sank. She was trying to remain calm, but it wasn't easy. That comment, the idea that Douglas had been planning this conversation, that made her feel vulnerable. Her response was barely a whisper. "Not a problem."

"Are you okay?" he asked gently. "Are you doing okay?"

Terry was annoyed at the question. How could he seriously ask that? "I'm fine, Douglas, but I don't think that's what you wanted to talk about."

He paused for a second. "I wanted to explain what happened."

"I know what happened, Douglas." Terri's voice was becoming more demonstrative and argumentative now. 

"No, I mean, I wanted to explain WHY... from MY perspective."

Terri dismissed the importance of the issue. "It doesn't matter, Douglas. It was a long time ago."

"Well, it matters to me," he said. "I needed to tell you why I couldn't call you back when I first went in."

"There's nothing to explain, Douglas."

"We never had a chance to talk..."

Terri interrupted. "We never had a chance to talk, because you wouldn't LET me talk to you. I tried, Douglas. I called and called. You wouldn't even answer."

"I know," he admitted. "That's what I wanted to explain."

"I even called your lawyer's office," she continued with outrage in her voice. "Talk about giving up your dignity! They thought that I was stalking you!"

"Well, I'm sorry..."

"No, I don't think you're sorry!" she argued. "Whatever you did, you did it because it's what YOU wanted to do. You had no regard for MY feelings."

"That's not true," he argued.

"It's totally true! You shut me out! You cut me off! I couldn't even fight back, because you wouldn't let me."

"I didn't want to fight with you, Terri," he explained with desperation in his voice. "I didn't know how to start that conversation, and I was afraid of how it would go."

"You were afraid of how it would go," she mocked. "So you threw me overboard and left me for dead."

"I'm sorry, Terri, but you have to understand."

"Oh, I think I do understand!" she snapped.

"No, you don't. You don't understand what it was like to be facing prison. My life was over, and I couldn't bear the thought of you seeing me in there."

"So, this was all about YOU and what YOU wanted!"

"No!" he protested.

"So, why didn't you say something? We had six weeks from the sentencing until you had to report. We could have talked. We talked every day. You could have let me know what you were thinking and how you were feeling."

"It was a bad time," he said dismissively.

"Yes, it was a bad time," she admitted. "I was there. I remember. My heart was breaking for you, and I was willing to stand by you through this. You never gave any reason to question that."

"We didn't have much time left," he said. "I just wanted it to be nice."

"It was nice," she agreed. "It's what came after that tore me apart."

"I'm sorry, Terri. I never meant to hurt you."

"Oh, don't even say that!" she scolded. "It's insulting."

"Why is it insulting?" he asked.

"Because you DID hurt me, Douglas. You hurt me worse than I've ever been hurt before. Maybe your intentions were good, but..."

"That's what I'm trying to explain!" he argued.

"Well, you're not doing a very good job!"

"Terri, listen, I had no other choice."

She bristled. "You always had the choice, Douglas. You should have said something."

"Terri, listen to me. Please."

"I am listening."

"Look, first I had to go to trial and admit what I did, and that was hard enough. Then I had to face the reality of going away for more than two years of my life."

"I'm sorry about that, Douglas. You're right. I don't understand how you felt, because I wasn't in your position, but I did feel terribly for what you had to face."

"You see, Terri, I had this picture in my head. I pictured you walking into that place to visit me. And in my mind you were so sad and so embarrassed. I just couldn't let that happen."

"Dammit, Douglas! You don't get it! That wasn't your choice to make, Douglas. This situation involved both of us. It HURT both of us, too. I should have had some say in how we were going to approach it going forward."

"I understand that, now," he said.

"So, why did you shut me out?"

"Look, it was just how I was feeling at the time," he explained. "I was in a dark place, and it was about to get darker. I know that cutting you off was harsh, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And I didn't want our last days together to be filled with arguments."

"Well, that's nice, Douglas, but it wasn't the right thing to do. It totally wasn't the right thing to do. It was cruel and selfish. We should have talked about it. You should have been straightforward with me about how you felt. You should have involved me in that decision."

"In know," he said quietly.

"And for the record," she continued, "I WAS willing not only just to visit you in prison. I even put dates in my schedule. And I was willing to wait for you all the way through to the end. But you never gave me that chance."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You're sorry," she mocked him coldly. "You didn't give me a chance. I called you, and you wouldn't talk to me. Do you know how much that hurt me?"

"I'm sorry, Terri, but this was hard for me, too," Douglas argued. "You have no idea what it was like to be in that place."

Terri spoke slowly and deliberately to express her exasperation. "I have no idea what you were going through, because you wouldn't communicate. You can't blame that on me."

The line was silent.

"Look," Terri continued, "if you really thought that this was the right way to go, if you really thought that we should end the relationship, then we should have talked about it. I wouldn't have liked it. And you're right, we would have argued. So what? At least I would have had a say in our future. But you took that away from me - selfishly - and you hurt me terribly in the process."

"I'm sorry, Terri. I just didn't think that you would understand."

"Douglas, I'm not an idiot. If you had talked to me, I would have listened, and we could have worked something out."

"I just didn't know how to approach it," he admitted. "I was afraid of how you would react."

"How did you expect me to react when you ditched me and refused to communicate? You shut me out. I had no idea what was going on with you in there. I was so afraid for you. I was dying inside. I couldn't figure out why you were so angry with me."

"I wasn't angry."

"Well then, how can you explain what you did?"

"I'm trying," he insisted. "I'm sorry."

"Well, sorry doesn't cut it."

"I did call you," he noted. 

"Yes," she said. Eight fucking months later!"

"It was your birthday."

"Yes, it was my birthday, and it was horrible."

Douglas was incredulous. "You felt horrible because I gave you a call on your birthday?"

"No, Douglas! Jesus! What felt horrible was suddenly getting a call from a man who I thought was in love with me, but who suddenly cut me off when things got tough. That was horrible. It made me question our entire relationship."

"I understand," Douglas said calmly. "It was hard for you, but it was hard for me, too."

"I don't dispute that," she said.

"I did think of you," he argued. "I did try to reach out."

"It was too late, Douglas! The damage was done."

"I thought that maybe things would be calmer by then."

"Calmer?" she demanded. "How could they be calmer. I cried every day for three months. I can't tell you how many times I vomited. My life was a wreck because of what you did."

"Well, I thought that maybe after a while it would get easier," he said.

"Then, you thought wrong," she said. "I was hurt and I was furious. Even when you finally called eight months later, I was so angry with you - not because you broke it off, but because of how you did it."

"Terri, I am sorry," he said in a soft voice. "I really didn't mean to hurt you."

"You keep saying that, Douglas, but the words are empty. They have nothing to do with reality. You broke my heart," she said. "You really did. And eventually, I had to move on. For my own sanity, I had to move on."

"I understand that," he said, "and I know that I can never make that up to you."

"That's true."

"I just wanted you to understand what happened from my perspective."

"Well, I'm sorry Douglas, but I don't understand that and I never will. I'll never understand how you could be so cruel to me after all that we'd been through, after everything that we had said to each other."

"I didn't meant to hurt you, Terri" he said. "I was only trying to protect you."

"I never asked for that, Douglas. I never asked you to protect me from anything. All I needed was honesty, and that's the one thing that you wouldn't give me."

"That's tough to hear," he admitted, "but it's important that I hear it."

"We used to trust each other," she said. "I trusted you with everything. I shared my deepest secrets with you. And you couldn't be open with me just this once. I was so confused. I just couldn't believe that it was the same person, the person I thought I knew."

Douglas's tone brightened. "Well, I am the same person."

"Yes, but that's the problem," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought that I knew you, but I didn't."

"You did know me," he argued.

"Not until you left me," she said. "Your actions showed me your true nature. You showed me that I could never trust you with my heart again."

Douglas tried to interrupt. "Terri..."

"And that's when I gave up," she continued. "That's when I realized that there was nothing left worth fighting for, and that everything that I thought that I knew was a lie."

"Terri, it wasn't a lie."

"It was, Douglas. In the end, you put yourself first. There was no 'us'. There was just you and what you needed."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm sure that you are."

"I hope that one day, you'll be able to forgive me."

Terri thought for a moment before speaking. "I just stopped caring. That's the best I have to offer."

  

'The Horse Farm'

Copyright © 2016 Daniel R. South

All Rights Reserved

The Horse Farm - Chapter 2-55

Francisco sat at an outdoor cafe on a busy square in the city's historic district. Thick vines of ivy scaled the red brick wall behind him. The table was small with a glass top, two placemats, a dessert menu, and his now nearly empty cup of cappuccino. The weather was sunny and pleasant. He entertained the idea of sitting there all afternoon.

Douglas approached from the other side of the square wearing sunglasses, expensive black shoes, designer slacks, and a loose-fitting, long-sleeve dress shirt in light pink. Francisco recognized him from his photograph. He was precisely on time and seemed to be in no hurry at all. He walked in controlled, deliberate strides and exuded unshakable confidence. This was not going to be an easy sell.

Douglas smiled as he approached the table. It was the smile of a seasoned political operative, a smile that made you want to trust the man behind it. "You must be Francisco," Douglas was still wearing the sunglasses.

Francisco rose to his feet. "Mr. Fenn-Creighley, pleased to meet you!" The two men shook hands as they disguised their contempt for one another.

"Well, at least you pronounced it correctly!" Douglas acknowledged.

Francisco smiled. "I hope so; I gave it my best attempt. Won't you have a seat?"

Douglas took a smooth but suspicious glance toward the center of the square.

"Don't be concerned," Francisco assured him. "I'm here alone."

Douglas nodded and lowered himself into the chair with the smoothness of a dancer. Francisco sat across from him and opened the conversation.

"You were probably surprised to hear from me."

Douglas smirked. "I know enough about you to expect some surprises. But this took some balls! I admire that."

Francisco pondered the comment. Douglas had deftly masked defiance with a compliment. His political skill was evident, but Francisco was not to be outdone.

"I thought that we should chat, since I missed you the other day. - Would you care for something? Cappuccino? It's amazing."

Douglas thought briefly before answering. "Sure. Why not? It's your dime."

Francisco gestured to the waiter with two fingers. The waiter nodded and walked quickly into the cafe.

Douglas had reached his limit for small talk. "Your associate said something about a business proposal."

"Yes," Francisco replied. "I thought that it might interest you."

"What makes you think that I would want to do business with YOU?" Douglas demanded defiantly.

"Not with me!" Francisco insisted. "It's with an associate, someone whom I have known for many years."

"And why would I be interested in working with one of your associates?" 

"Because it's a good offer," Francisco explained. "And because you're here. If you weren't curious, you wouldn't have come."

Fenn-Creighley smirked again. "You think I'm curious?"

"Possibly," Francisco replied. "But more importantly, I suspect that you are running low on options."

"I have plenty of options," Douglas boasted.

"Are you working now?" Francisco asked.

"That's none of your business."

Francisco raised the intensity of his voice. "Would any of those options depend on assistance of a Director Marston at the State Department?"

Douglas did his best to hold his poker face, but the corner of his mouth quivered. It was clear that the mention of Marston's name rattled him. 

Francisco continued: "Because at this point, I would be surprised if he's still taking your calls."

"That was you?" Fenn-Creighley demanded in a calm but firm tone.

"Not me, directly," Francisco clarified. "I understand that some calls were made. It's amazing what can happen when you reach out to the right people." 

Fenn-Creighley took a deep breath and regained his composure, but he was now quite angry. "So you went after Marston to get to me? Is that it? Well, don't get too comfortable, because I know how to get to people, too."

The waiter brought the two cappuccinos and set them on the table.

"Mr. Fenn-Creighley, no one is trying to get to you. My understanding is that Director Marston's career is not in jeopardy at this time. We simply asked him to pull back on a particular investigation that we felt was not being prosecuted in good faith. He was more than happy to comply."

"And in the process, you got my attention," Douglas surmised.

"Mr. Fenn-Creighley, my associate is prepared to make you a bona fide offer of employment. If you're not interested, I won't waste any more of your time."

"I'm not saying that I'm not interested," Douglas confessed. "I haven't heard the pitch yet. What I'm concerned about is, why are you doing this? Why, all of a sudden, is some friend of yours interested in ME?"

"Those are two separate matters," Francisco replied. "My associate is interested in your skills and experience. He feels that you could be an asset to his organization."

"And you?"

Francisco leaned forward. He sensed blood in the water.

"My business philosophy is simple, Mr. Fenn-Creighley. Friends are more important than adversaries. When an adversary attacks, he may do some damage. But once you have identified your adversary, you can watch him and hopefully prevent him from doing more harm.

"Friends on the other hand, tend to be supportive over the long haul. They pass business your way. They help you out of difficult situations. A friend may help you dozens of times. Faced with a situation like this, I see more value in cultivating a mutually beneficial relationship than accepting that we are destined to be adversaries."

Douglas remained unimpressed. "So, you think that you can charm me into becoming your friend?"

"Mr. Fenn-Creighley..."

"Douglas. Please."

"Douglas - you see we're making progress already."

Fenn-Creighley grinned and chuckled through his nose as he shook his head.

"You're still a young man. You have a lot of potential. Given the right opportunity, you can get your life and career back on track after the, shall we say, unfortunate events that have befallen you. Or you can wait for your old friends to toss you a bone, but they don't seem all that keen on helping you."

Douglas removed his sunglasses for the first time. He had piercing green eyes, eyes with unmistakable charisma. 

"Alright, Mela, what exactly is the right offer?"

"An associate, Mr. Samuels, oversees a number of concerns engaged in the extraction of precious metals. From time to time, his projects encounter interference from local authorities and other groups. He's looking for someone who could help him to cut through red tape and potential bad publicity before it happens. You seem like an ideal candidate."

"It does sound like my cup of tea," Fenn-Creighley added. "But it also sounds shady."

"Do you have other offers pending?" Francisco countered.

Douglas became defiant once again. "That's really none of your concern, is it?"

"Well, while you're waiting for something else to come along, Mr. Samuels would very much like to make his own pitch. I'm sure that you'll find the terms attractive."

"And if I'm not interested?"

"If you're not interested, Douglas, you're not interested. No one is here to twist your arm."

"And just where exactly is this position located?"

"I'm sure that Mr. Samuels will discuss all of the details. Some travel will be involved, but you would have plenty of discretionary time if say, you wanted to visit your daughter."

"So, basically you just want me out of your way - is that it? Because you're with Terri now, and you don't want me to muck that up."

Francisco wasn't sure what to say next. He suspected that the conversation would end up at an impasse over Terri, but he hadn't thought of a strategy to get past it.

"How long were you together?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" Douglas asked in disbelief.

"You and Terri, how long?"

"Three and a half years."

"That's a long time," Francisco noted. "She must have seen something in you if she stuck around for that long."

"Well, that's between me and her," Douglas said flatly.

"I understand. I didn't mean to pry. It just occurred to me that, if she was drawn to you before you fell on hard times, then perhaps once you re-establish yourself, she might look at things differently."

"Wait! You're saying that you think that she's going to come back to me if I take this job?"

"I'm saying that she might think differently about who you are - and the kind of man you are - depending on the choices that you make along the way."

Douglas ran his fingers through his hair as he considered his options.

"I'll tell you what, Mela. I'll consider your offer. Your friend's offer, whatever. But first, I want a favor. And since you're all into building trust and friendships and all, I think that you understand the importance of a favor."

"Sure," said Francisco. "Let me know what it is, and I'll see what I can do."

There was excitement in Douglas' powerful eyes now. "I want to talk to her." 

  

'The Horse Farm'

Copyright © 2016 Daniel R. South

All Rights Reserved

The Horse Farm - Chapter 2-54

Sunlight flooded in through the windows of Jo's apartment as she prepared for her Sunday morning Pilates class. She stood near the entrance to the kitchen as she watched TV and ate baby carrots in gray yoga pants with pink trim. She wore two loose-fitting tank tops over her pink jogging bra, one in a plain gray cotton, the other a white nylon mesh. 

Her phone vibrated signaling an incoming text. She walked over to the coffee table to pick it up. The text was from a familiar number. 

"Hey!"

She sat on the couch and pondered how to respond, or whether to even respond at all. 

J: Walter?

W: I hope I'm not interrupting.

J: What's the matter? Is Louise okay?

W: Everything's fine. She went out for a run.

J: OK

W: Do you have a minute?

J: I'm not sure that we should be texting, Walter.

W: I understand. I didn't mean to bother you. It's nothing serious.

J: OK

W: I just wanted to thank you.

J: Thank me for what?

W: The compliment.

J: ??? 

W: From the other day when you saw Louise.

J: OK

W: You said something about me being heroic.

J: Oh, that! OMG! 

W: Anyway, thanks.

J: You could have been killed, Walter!

W: It wasn't really that bad.

J: Oh my God! Poor Terri! Is she okay? Has Louise talked to her? 

W: Not sure. I think she's still pretty shaken up.

J: Well, thank you for intervening. That was a very serious situation.

W: I didn't really think about it. It seemed like the thing to do. Plus the guy was in my yard. I couldn't just ignore him.

J: Well, thank goodness that everyone's alright. We're all thankful that you showed up when you did.

W: So, you guys had a good time the other night?

J: Which other night?

W: At the Avalon.

J: It was okay. Just chitchat.

W: I guess you guys were dancing up a storm!

J: Just a couple of songs. No big deal.

W: Were there a lot of people there?

J: Just people from her office. I didn't know anyone really.

W: Yeah, the old office crowd...

J: Hey, Walter, I have to run. I have Pilates.

W: Oh, I'm sorry. 

J: It's okay. Bye.

W: Hey Jo, can I just tell you one more thing?

J: OK

W: I'm sorry about what happened - with us

J: Walter, we don't have to get into all of that.

W: I just needed to say it. I never said the words.

J: It's okay, Walter. You have nothing to apologize for, Walter. Not to me.

W: What I did was unkind.

J: What you did was human, and you weren't alone. I don't really want to discuss it if that's okay.

W: I understand.

J: The point is that Louise loves you. If she didn't, she wouldn't have taken you back.

W: You're right. Absolutely.

J: I mean, she even forgave me, and I did the worst thing that a friend could do. Think of the strength that that must have taken.

W: It all seems surreal.

J: She's a good person, Walter. And you two are good together. Don't question that.

W: I won't. I don't.

J: OK?

W: Yeah, okay. Sorry.

J: I've gotta run.

W: I understand. Thanks.

  

'The Horse Farm'

Copyright © 2016 Daniel R. South

All Rights Reserved

The Horse Farm - Chapter 2-53

Francisco and Isabella entered the lobby of the Hôtel Grande Parisienne carrying several large shopping bags. Isabella sported a yacht club look with a white cardigan, navy skirt, and white sneakers.

Francisco wore black jeans, dress shoes, and a long-sleeved white shirt that his mother had picked out for him at one of her favorite designer shops. The shirt was made of a soft, thick material adorned with silver buttons.

"Let's go see the Monet!" Isabella shouted as she dashed ahead.

Francisco had a mildly shocked look on his face. "Yeah, I'll just... catch up."

Managing the bags carefully, he followed Isabella through the lobby toward the jewelry store and the Swiss watch boutique. 

"There it is!" she exclaimed as she admired the colorful painting under its protective glass.

"It's smaller than I thought," Francisco quipped.

"Yes, but it's still a Monet!" she said lovingly. "And it's amazing!" 

"It's relaxing," he remarked. "Pretty cool!"

"Pretty cool?" she asked, mocking Francisco's comment. "It's so delicate. It speaks to my heart."

"Probably worth a small fortune!"

"Yes," she agreed, "but you don't HAVE to worry about money, do you?"

"That much money!" he exclaimed. "And by the way, when did rich kid jokes come back in style?"

Isabella smiled back at him. "I like to tease you, silly!"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, it's a good thing that I like to be teased."

"So, are you going to buy the Monet or not?"

"Not today!"

They crossed through an expansive lobby filled with plants and colonial furniture. They pushed the button for the elevator and stood waited while their reflections looked back at them from a wall of polished brass.

There was a tension between them as they rode to the twenty-first floor with no other guests in the car. It felt warm and magnetic; they noticed it whenever they were alone together.

Francisco moved all of his bags onto one arm and opened the door to the suite. "This is so nice!" Isabella exclaimed as she walked through the main room on her way to the window. 

"It'll do!" he joked.

She smiled and glanced back at him from the side. "It's really nice!"

"Glad you like it!"

"Oh, and this view! My goodness!"

"Are you hungry," he asked. 

"Starting to think about it."

"There are some places in the neighborhood. Thai, sushi, Indonesian."

"In a minute," she said. "I want to see the shirts you bought. Ooh, can you show me the sweater?"

Francisco looked through the shopping bags, unfolded the sweater, and pulled it over his head. "What do you think?"

"It's nice," she said. "Maybe better with different pants though."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Can you try the black shirt?"

"Sure!"

"The light in this room is gorgeous right now," she noted. "It'll look nice."

"You're not planning to take my picture, are you?"

"Do you think I'd tell you in advance?" she joked.

He folded the sweater and placed it back into one of the large white bags. He delicately pulled the shirt from the bag and took it into the bedroom. He returned wearing the shirt un-tucked and with tags hanging visibly.

"That looks really nice!" she remarked. 

"You think so?"

"Yeah, super! Turn around."

He turned to give her a view from the back. She smoothed the material with her hands and adjusted his collar. "Totally hot! You got a blue one, too, right?"

"Yeah, it's a little different. I think I like the black one better."

Isabella pulled the blue shirt out of the shopping bag. 

"Try it on. Let me see."

Francisco reached for the shirt, but she kept it in her hands.

"You don't have to run in there," she scolded. "I've seen your chest before."

"Just trying to be a gentleman."

"Gentlemen are boring."

"Well, better than the alternative," he said as he unbuttoned the black shirt and slipped it off.

"What do you mean?" She didn't want it to be obvious, but she enjoyed watching him change shirts. He body was tan, slender, and ripped. It wasn't easy to stay focused on the conversation.

"My Dad's new - well, I don't really know what she is - the woman he's dating, she has some kind of a stalker issue going on."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, ex-boyfriend."

"Oh, no!" Isabella cringed.

"Kind of a nutcase, from what I hear. Served some time."

"You mean like in jail?"

"I mean like federal prison."

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah, that's about what I said."

"Boy, he sure can pick 'em!" she remarked.

"Not nice!"

"Sorry."

"Anyway," he said with his arms out to his sides, "how's the shirt look."

"Yeah!" she replied. "That's sharp!"

"But the black one is nicer, right?"

"I think..."

"What do you think?"

"I think that you are going to be the best-dressed guy on campus." 

"I don't know," he chuckled. "Anybody can go out and buy nice clothes."

"Well, then, would you settle for most handsome?"

"That sounds about right!" They both laughed.

"Thanks for taking me shopping," she said.

"Thank you for helping me pick things out."

"No problem!"

"And for patiently waiting while I tried things. And rejected all of the crappy ones."

"It's all part of the process!" She stepped closer and gave him a strong hug. "You're gonna look great."

"Thank you," he whispered.

As she moved away, he reached for her hand and pull her back in close.

"Frannie?" she pleaded in her softest voice.

He put his hand on her cheek as he kissed her. She kissed him back, passionately and aggressively. They kissed for two or three minutes before she pulled back an inch or two. "I should go."

"I want to take you to dinner," he whispered back.

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

She took the initiative this time and kissed him again, first forcefully, then backing off to delicate nibbles. They let their tongues dance magically as their hands explored their young bodies without caution. He kissed her down the side of the neck and on the shoulder near the collarbone. She gasped with delirious pleasure.

"Frannie," she pleaded desperately. "Are you going to be mad at me?"

"Never!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

  

'The Horse Farm'

Copyright © 2016 Daniel R. South

All Rights Reserved