I Saw Your Profile by Rhonda Swan Page B

you?”
         “I’m sure you had your
choice of women from the pamper party. Women a lot prettier than me.”
         “You are just as
pretty as any of the ladies I met last night, and it’s not what’s on the
outside that matters to me.”
         “Since when are men
not interested in a woman’s looks?”
         “You have obviously
been dealing with the wrong men. And someone has hurt you pretty badly if you
can’t believe that a man would find you attractive. I enjoyed talking to you
and I’d like the chance to get to know you better. So will you have dinner with
me tonight after the pamper party wraps up or not?”
         “I guess so.”
         “Don’t knock me down
with your enthusiasm.”
         “I’m sorry. Sure, I’d
love to have dinner with you.”

 
 
 
         Chauncey and Janelle
had dinner at the Hard Shell, a seafood restaurant in Richmond’s cobblestone
historic district. Afterwards, they went to Shockoe Bottom, a trendy section of
Richmond, for drinks and a live show.
           At one in the morning,
they found themselves talking in his truck outside her condo. They were both
born in the Caribbean and raised by single mothers. She never knew her father.
He spent little time with his.
          She left Jamaica
as a child and was sent to the states to live with a family friend. She became
a citizen, married young and wrong. Two children. Divorced. Looking for Mr.
Right.
         He left Barbados as an
adult and spent several years in Europe before coming to America on a temporary
visa. He was divorced with one son.
         She liked his accent.
She knew little of her own culture and what accent she did have, she lost
growing up in Miami.
    He suggested she spend time in
Jamaica.
         “I’ve been there a few
times to see my mother. But our relationship is so rocky; I’ve never stayed
that long. I would like to, but it hurts.”
         Chauncey lifted her
chin with his finger and turned Janelle toward him. “Water does run, but blood
does clod.”
           “What?”
         “It’s a Barbadian
saying. It’s like when Americans say, ‘blood is thicker than water.’ You’ll
work it out with your mother one day. Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”
         He got out of the
truck, walked to the passenger side and let her out. He held her hand as he
escorted her up the stairs. Chauncey took her face in his hand and kissed her
gently on the lips.
         “Goodnight, Janelle.”
         “I had a good time,”
she said. “Thank you.”
         “I’m glad. Maybe next
time I’m in town we can see a movie. I’ll call you.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

                          
                  Chapter Seven

 
 
 
 
    K
    enny’s cologne lingered on Arianna’s dress. The scent
turned her on even though its owner turned her off.
    She stepped in her bedroom
shower and got the water as hot as she could stand. She poured a glob of body
wash onto a sponge and scrubbed herself from head to toe.
           The steam enhanced the
scent of the soapy liquid. She inhaled deeply, allowing the aroma to travel
through her body and soothe each muscle on its way down.
         She washed and
conditioned her hair. As the conditioner set, she pulled the shower nozzle from
its perch, leaned against the wall and opened her legs.
           The water tickled her
spot. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Michael’s tongue. She moaned.
           She slid to the floor
and put one leg on the wall and the other on the shower door, a position that
allowed her to feel the full force of the water pressure.   
         Her body jerked up and
down and side-to-side like she was having an epileptic seizure. Afterwards, she
snatched the tongue away and lay there until her breathing returned to normal.
           She opened her eyes,
stood up and leaned against the wall while she got her