It's All a Matter of Choice Page 15

Emmet blushed. He hated feeling the warmth on his face. Men weren’t supposed to blush but he did it all the time at the worst possible moments. He shuffled his feet a little.

  They both fell silent. It was time for the kiss.

  Emmet didn’t move.

  Anita looked up at Emmet encouragingly. When he didn’t respond she said, “It’s customary to kiss your date good-night, you know.”

  ”Yes,” Emmet said a bit hoarsely.

  “So kiss me,” Anita said, puckering up.

  Emmet looked at her mouth for a moment, and felt his jeans tightening again.

  Shit, another erection coming on.

  He quickly leaned forward, pressed his lips against Anita’s rather harder than he intended, then pulled back.

  “Good night, Anita,” he said, feeling a bit awkward. That hadn’t been a good kiss at all.

  Anita rubbed her lips together and cocked her head at Emmet.

  “Next Friday, we’re definitely going to have to work on your kissing,” she declared, opening her door with her key, then smiling at him naughtily. She entered her room.

  “Good night, Emmet,” Anita said, giving him a little finger wave and closing the door.

  Emmet waited until he heard it lock, then headed for the elevator.

  Work on his kissing?

  Maybe he should buy some condoms.

  Just in case.

  Chapter 17 ~ Two Cars and an Offer of More

  June Barrows stood on tiptoe looking inside the lavender Cadillac Escalade’s tinted window. So many buttons and doodads! It was certainly a far cry from the simple cars she remembered.

  “Emmet, this is kind of nice,” she called to her son, who walked over. Emmet had already chosen his car. A blue 2004 recertified Honda with a five-year warranty. He looked at the huge SUV, then at his mother.

  “Mom, you would need a stepladder to get in and out of this,” he said to her “It’s huge!”

  ”It’s adorable,” June said, walking around the vehicle. “And it has a running board.”

  “It would be a nightmare to park…and…and it’s pink!” Emmet said, frowning.

  “It’s lavender,” June corrected, “And perfect for me. I could load up all the girls and we could drive to the casino in style.”

  “Doesn’t look as if it’s very gas efficient,” he stated.

  “I can always buy more gas,” June said, looking at the tow mount on the back.

  Emmet looked down at the shining rims on the SUV curiously. He knelt down and touched one. It moved. He caught hold of it, then spun it. The rim rotated several times. June looked delighted.

  “The wheels spin!” she exclaimed like a little girl, “Oh Emmet, isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  June opened the door to the Escalade, stepped on the running board and climbed in. The upholstery was a cream/light cashmere colored leather with lavender wood grain trim. There were no cracks or wrinkles or cuts in the upholstery. In fact, the interior looked brand new.

  “Oh, this is perfect,” June gushed as Emmet read the details of the truck that were taped to the side window.

  It was a 2002 model with 138,000 easy highway miles. An automatic with 4-wheel drive, all-electric adjustable seats with front and back seat warmers, seat memory for driver’s side, a 12-volt inverter, Bose surround sound system, a large flip down television w/ dvd/cd player, sunroof and luggage rack. The rims were 26 inch chrome spinners with locking nuts. The tires were new and it had an OnStar Guiding System.

  June cranked it up and it purred.

  “Oh, look at the radio, Emmet…it is covered in dancing lavender lights,” June said, reaching for the radio’s power button.

  Emmet’s eyes went wide.

  “Mom…wait…” he said, trying to stop her, “Check the volume…”

  June pressed the button in and shrieked as she was nearly blown out of the seat by the sheer power of a very thumping rap song that blasted through the surround-sound speakers. The woofers and tweeters boomed, the Escalade vibrating in time with the beat. Emmet reached over his mother and clicked the radio off.

  Emmet said something to June, who looked as if she had been caught in a wind tunnel.

  “What?” she yelled at him, wriggling a finger in her ear. “Speak up, Emmet. Someone turned the volume up too high.”

  Emmet shook his head and looked at the price of the vehicle. Twenty-thousand with a three-year warranty. Hmm. For a 2002 with that much mileage? True, it was customized…but still…

  Emmet watched his mother fiddle around in the SUV. She was smiling broadly, her blue eyes shining as she played with the dials and buttons. The windshield wipers came on. June Barrows looked very happy. Happier than he could remember.

  Emmet looked thoughtful. If he paid for it in cash, he could save money on the finance charges and might be able to get the price dropped few grand. He planned to finance his Honda…but…

  ”Looks like your mother really likes that Escalade,” the salesman Tom said, walking up to Emmet. He was already happy he had sold the young man the Honda…now if he could just sell the Escalade…

  Emmet nodded. “I was going to get her a Honda too, but…she seems to want that.”

  Tom felt like rubbing his hands together. It was obvious Emmet doted on his mother.

  “It’s a good buy,” Tom said, “The mileage is high but it’s all highway miles. The previous owner traveled a lot.”

  Yes she did, back and forth between Miami and New York. She wasn’t doing much traveling now however. There wasn’t far to go when you were in a Federal prison. The car dealership acquired the SUV when it was sold to help pay lawyers’ fees to fight a fitting little charge called “trafficking.”

  Emmet looked at his mother again, who smiled at him.

  “Can I get this one, Emmet?” she asked him, an expectant look in her eyes. Apparently, she had gotten her hearing back.

  Emmet gave her a small smile.

  “Let me talk to Tom,” he said to her.

  June knew that meant “yes.” Emmet was such a good son.

  The two men walked away together, and June looked around the SUV appreciatively.

  “Agnes is going to die from envy,” she breathed, running her hands over the lavender and cream steering wheel, “Just die.”

  *

  John Bowen stood near a dumpster in an alley between two crumbling buildings and finished another beer. Catholic charities had set him up temporarily in a shelter, gave him twenty bucks and several bus vouchers so he could ride to LaborFinders every morning for the next two weeks and find day to day work while he was down and out.

  He went three times this week, primarily to earn drinking money. Mostly, LaborFinders provided grunt work. Cleaning up around worksites and the like. They didn’t pay much for unskilled labor, but at least it was something. The shelter provided supper and John took his meal once a day there. The shelter area itself was a refurbished factory that was gutted, forming a huge open room that was filled with two hundred and twenty numbered beds, partitioned off to keep males and females separated.

  Not that it helped. Last night, John watched the guy in the bed next to him fuck a young woman in exchange for a couple of cigarettes. Too bad he didn’t have any cigarettes…he could have used a bit of pussy. He had to be satisfied jerking off to them. They were very quiet though. It would have been better for John if they had made more noise.

  To stay at the shelter cost about three dollars a night if you weren’t assigned by some organization. Those who didn’t have money could earn a bed by helping out with cooking or laundering. Beneath each bed was a locker to put things in. These were constantly broken into however, and John kept his clothes with him in a duffle bag to keep them from being stolen. Each person could get a three minute shower in the morning, but you had to get up early if you wanted hot water.

  John swayed a bit before leaning back against the dumpster.

  “Damn it, Anita…how can you treat your old man this way? Un
grateful. That’s what you are…plain ungrateful,” he griped to himself drunkenly. “I give you life and this is how you repay me? Leaving me to rot in a fucking alley. My own fucking daughter. Just as heartless as her mother.”

  John tossed the empty beer bottle in his hand into the dumpster, then leaned down and picked up another, opening it with his teeth and spitting out the cap. It was a cheap beer but he had an eighteen pack. Good enough. He took a big swig.

  “I’ll find you though. Then Daddy will be back home,” he breathed, looking up at the gray sky overhead. “Back home, wherever that is.”

  He took another swig of beer, staring down the alley sullenly.

  He wished time would speed up. He had to wait three more weeks before he could call George again to find out where Anita was.

  It seemed an eternity.

  *

  When Emmet entered his cubicle Monday morning, he found a little pink envelope on his desk. He sat down and picked it up. The words, “To Emmet” were written on the front of it. Curiously he opened the letter and pulled out a piece of pink stationary bordered with flowers. He adjusted his glasses and read it.

  Dear Emmet,

  Since you are going to be busy with interviews during the day this week, I was wondering if we could get a bite to eat one evening instead of doing lunch. There’s a nice, casual little Italian restaurant done the block called Antonio’s. I’d like to have dinner with you there on Friday night. Let me know.

  Jennifer

  Emmet’s eyes widened. Jennifer wanted to have dinner with him? He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He and Anita had a date that night, and she was going to help him improve his kissing technique. Dinner with Jennifer couldn’t hold a candle to that. Besides, Jennifer never even talked to him before he started dressing better.

  Emmet had a feeling Anita wouldn’t take this well at all. It might be wise on his part not to mention Jennifer’s dinner invitation. Just to keep her from getting upset.

  Emmet put the letter back into the envelope and laid it on top of some papers. He needed to tell Jennifer he wouldn’t be able to do dinner on Friday. He stood up and looked over the cubicle toward the area where the office workers were. He didn’t see Anita, and Jennifer had just stood up and walked back toward the staff room.

  No time like the present.

  Emmet left the cubicle and headed for the staff room. He had just turned the corner when Anita appeared behind him, heading toward his cubicle. She was collecting paperwork. She looked in Emmet’s cubicle with a smile, expecting to see him before he left for his interview…but he wasn’t there.

  Anita was about to go when she saw the pink envelope resting on top of some papers and the words, “To Emmet” written on it. Her brow furrowed and she looked around the office before her eyes fell back on the envelope. Who was it from?

  Anita knew she shouldn’t invade Emmet’s privacy, but that letter had “Jennifer” written all over it. If it had been a plain white envelope, Anita wouldn’t have noticed it at all. That it was so “pink” was foreboding.

  Anita slipped into Emmet’s cubicle, picked up the envelope, took out the letter and read it quickly. She scowled and put the letter back on the pile of papers, exiting the cubicle.

  Anita’s expression was sober as she walked back to her desk. So, Jennifer was trying to get a date with Emmet was she? She looked up expecting to see the redhead. Jennifer wasn’t at her desk.

  Anita paused.

  Emmet wasn’t at his desk…Jennifer wasn’t at hers. What was going on here?

  *

  Emmet stopped at the door of the staff room. Jennifer was the only one in there and was pouring herself a cup of coffee. Not wanting to appear as if he were sneaking up on her, Emmet cleared his throat. Jennifer looked up, saw it was Emmet and smiled.

  “Good morning, Emmet,” she said brightly, as Emmet entered the staff room. She met him halfway, her coffee in one hand. “I take it you got my dinner invitation.”

  ”Ah. Yes…yes I did,” Emmet said a bit uncomfortably, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Jennifer.”

  ”How does seven o’clock sound?” Jennifer asked him, believing he had come to tell her he accepted.

  Emmet hesitated.

  “Um, seven sounds fine…if I could be there. But I can’t, Jennifer. I…I already have a date Friday night,” Emmet said.

  Jennifer stared at him a moment.

  “With Anita?” she asked him.

  Emmet nodded. Neither he nor Jennifer saw Anita stop outside the staff room then dart to the side of the door, leaning back against it and listening.

  “Yes. I am going out with Anita on Friday,” Emmet replied, stating the facts clearly and concisely. Then he added politely, “I do appreciate you asking me to dinner however.”

  Jennifer studied him.

  “Have you made a date with her for the following Friday?” she asked Emmet.

  “Ah…no,” he said.

  “So why don’t we make a date for next Friday, then?” Jennifer pressed him.

  Emmet swallowed. He was sure Anita didn’t want him dating another girl.

  “Well…Anita,” he began…but Jennifer cut him off.

  “Emmet…you don’t have to date one woman. You’re single. You should be playing the field, not tying yourself down to the first woman that comes on to you,” Jennifer said. “I can be just as nice as Anita.”

  Emmet stared down at her as Jennifer licked her lips suggestively.

  “Go out with me next Friday, and I could probably be even nicer,” she said suggestively.

  Anita, still pressed up against the wall, made an “o’ with her mouth. The little slut…was she trying to tempt Emmet with sex?

  Yes, Jennifer was. She already discerned that Emmet didn’t have much experience with women. If she had sex with him, most likely the associate would be so overwhelmed and grateful, he’d follow her around like a puppy.

  “Anita isn’t the only woman in the world, Emmet. There are a lot of us out here. You need to test the waters…come to dinner with me next Friday. I guarantee you’ll have a wonderful time,” Jennifer said persuasively, her eyes practically glowing with promise.

  Emmet swallowed. He had a feeling he knew what kind of wonderful time Jennifer was offering him. She was no Anita, but she was still very pretty and very…well built. But Anita, Anita was there when Jennifer didn’t know he existed. She wasn’t interested in who he was…but who he had become in the past week.

  Anita was about to enter the staff room when she heard Emmet say, “I don’t think so, Jennifer. I like Anita…and I want to get to know her better. You had years to get to know me but never tried before. I think maybe you’re interested now because of how I’ve changed outwardly…but I’m still the same person you ignored,” he said to her honestly.

  Jennifer studied him.

  “I just didn’t realize how special you were, Emmet,” she said, “You can’t hold that against me. No one’s perfect. I’m trying to get to know you now,” she replied.

  “No, I’m not holding it against you, Jennifer. It’s just that I prefer Anita,” he said. “Besides, she wouldn’t appreciate me dating someone else while I’m dating her. I won’t do it. It’s wrong.”

  “Wrong? What do you mean ‘wrong?’ Plenty of guys date more than one woman at a time, Emmet,” Jennifer argued.

  “Not me. I’m sorry, Jennifer,” Emmet said, “But again, thank you for the invitation. I’ve got to go. I have an interview.”

  Emmet turned and walked toward the door.

  Anita heard him coming and quickly scooted down the hall, skidding a bit before making it to her desk, sitting down and smoothing her hair. The other girls looked at her curiously but didn’t say anything. Emmet appeared and waved at her as he passed. Anita gave him a very warm smile. She felt like kissing him for shooting Jennifer down.

  Emmet walked into his cubicle, picked up his briefcase, put it on his desk and opened it, checking to make sure he had all the pape
rwork and literature he needed for the interview. Herman appeared.

  “Hey Emmet. Going out today?” he asked him.

  Emmet looked over his shoulder and gave Herman a smile.

  “Yep,” he answered shortly, closing his briefcase, picking it up and turning to face the bald associate.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Herman asked him.

  Emmet thought about it. It did feel good. Now he felt like a full associate, not just a scheduler.

  “Sure does. I just hope I get the account,” Emmet said to him.

  Herman looked at him in surprise.

  “Emmet, you just landed the biggest account in B, B & B history. You can’t be worried you won’t land the next contract?” Herman said to him.

  Emmet looked at him soberly.

  “I’m never going to take success for granted Herman. Just because I landed Hobson’s doesn’t mean I’ll get the next contract,” Emmet said.

  Herman scowled slightly.

  “All you’d have to do is drop a little line about having just signed Hobson’s, Emmet. Everyone else will want to get on board,” the associate said.

  Emmet looked at Herman. That might be true, but he preferred to sign companies based on the merits of what B, B & B services could provide them, not because he signed Hobson’s.

  “I don’t work that way, Herman,” he said, “But hopefully…I’ll do all right on my own.”

  He walked past the associate, who looked after him.

  “See you later, Herman,” Emmet called back to him.

  “Bye Emmet. Good luck,” Herman called back to him. He headed back to his cubicle. Herman had his own interview this afternoon. He felt good about it.

  Emmet walked toward Anita’s desk, stopped and reached into his pocket. He handed her something. Anita looked at it. It was Emmet’s new credit card. He had activated it.

  “Use that to buy your lunch this week,” he said to her. “You’re supposed to be saving…remember?”

  Anita stared at the card, then up at Emmet.

  “But Emmet, this is your credit card. You don’t give someone your credit card,” Anita said to him. Emmet raised his eyebrows at her.

  “Do you want cash?” he asked her, pretending to start drawing his wallet.