I love to watch them admire her. I leaned against the furthest wall of The Velvet Underground, a downtown gallery featuring up and comers in the art world. I folded my arms across my chest, crossed one foot over the other and watched people approach Rebel’s display, trying to get as close to my girl as possible.
One woman in particular was doing a whole lot of admiring and not a lot of letting others get close enough to get even a whiff of her perfume. The woman had approached Rebel with an air of confidence, as if the two were already well acquainted. It seemed as though the familiarity went both ways. And so I watched.
When Rebel glanced up they made eye contact and immediately became immersed in conversation. The woman’s eyes roamed Rebel’s body and I couldn’t help but do the same for only the umpteenth time that night. I could understand why she couldn’t resist the urge.
One final glance and I licked my lips, realizing how badly I needed a drink. I headed to the bar and ordered a double, oblivious to everyone and everything around me except for her. My eyes were on the prize, but I knew it would only be a matter of time before I lost sight of Rebel. The room was filling up quickly and I didn’t want to become lost in the sea of women that were pouring through the door in droves. There were smatterings of men scattered throughout the gallery, admiring the women as much as the art on display.
From my spot, I people watched. Excitement was in the air and the atmosphere was unmistakable. Rebel didn’t like crowds like this, and neither do I, but the turnout proved that her artwork was not to be contained to just a few prying eyes. She was far too talented, and so I pushed her to take her gift further. For her part, Rebel had worked like a woman possessed for the two weeks leading up to the opening.
I studied my appearance in the mirror behind the bar. I wore black dress pants with a pale pink dress shirt and a black tie to match. The only jewelry I wore was my watch, which I glanced at periodically. I promised Rebel that I’d give her space to do her thing tonight. I don’t remember promising not to get hot and bothered though, which was exactly how I was beginning to feel at the moment. It was that damn dress. Rebel wore it in such a way, as if it were invented only for her, and the rest of the wanna-be fashionistas were only allowed to admire her in it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced up just in time to see s sultry smile plastered on the face of one of the patrons who was diligently giving me the eye. You know the one. I don’t know how long she’d been staring, but she reminded me so much of Denise that I took pause for a minute before catching myself. I hope she didn’t consider my return gaze a welcome invitation, but I think I looked a minute too long because before I knew it she began to make her way toward the bar. I took it as a sign that she was interested in more than just my mirrored reflection. I took that as my queue and made my exit from the bar area.
By 10:30 the place was so crowded conversation only seemed possible in short bursts. I searched for Rebel in the crowd. She was still engaged in what appeared to be deep conversation with the familiar stranger. I downed my drink and immediately wanted another.
The bar was packed as I walked over and caught the attention of the bar tender again. I turned back around just in time to see the stranger lean over and put her lips close to Rebel’s ear. She whispered something. I watched Rebel tilt her head back, close her eyes deeply, and then respond. I couldn’t make out what she said, but I cold damn sure make out the word “Max”.
I decided to make my way over. Why was I admiring my woman from across the room anyway? “Rebel, you want a drink?” I asked, drawing near. She smiled before shaking her head yes. Her gaze met mine for a few, breathless seconds, and I felt some foreign, yet powerful energy escape me.
The woman who I guessed was Max was grinning and bearing the entire scene, as if it were being played out in her honor. Rene must have seen the questioning look in my eyes because the next thing I know she excused herself for not showing manners. Then she introduced Max and me to each other. I reached out my hand and was pleasantly surprised by the weak handshake I received in return. I snickered inside then asked Max if she wanted a drink, to which she said yes. As I sauntered toward the bar I overheard her say that she was surprised I was old enough to drink. Then she wondered, out loud of course, if I was still in high school. My cheeks burned and I didn’t hear anything more as I disappeared into the crowd. I smirked outwardly at Max’s nerve, understanding it all too well.
A woman as striking as Rebel is hard to let go, especially a second time around. I ran my fingers through my locs and was rewarded with a feeling that reminded me of the intensity of the night before. The harder she came the harder she pulled my hair and when I was ready to do it all over again, so was she.
For now, I watched her and Max flirt and make small talk as I made my way back over. I pretended not to notice. In my mind, every girl in the room wished she were here with Rebel, the talented artist whose bonus was her beauty. But I was the one there that evening. I took Max’s inappropriateness in stride. She thought she could have another chance and I simply wasn’t going to let that happen.
Having forgotten about the woman in the mirror, I subconsciously let my guard down as I approached the bar. When I got there the same woman I caught checking out my reflection earlier accosted me. I tried to avoid her roving eyes but she couldn’t keep them off of me. All night I had purposely avoided talking to any women because although I was completely certain about my ability to resist them, past experience may or may not have begged to differ.
The woman’s eyes were alluring and her smile, lethal. She bit her bottom lip as I flashed my worst smile and proceeded to order a round of drinks. While I waited for the bartender to finish, she finally spoke.
“I couldn’t help but notice you,” she began. “From the moment you walked into the gallery with that uh, redbone.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s your name,” she continued, moving closer to violating the three foot rule. I inhaled her perfume and leaned back a little. She was too close for comfort and I was getting impatient. The bartender taking his time to make the drinks wasn’t helping matters. Add to that, the only thing I could think about was Rebel, the conversation Max and Rebel were having in my absence and stupidly comparing Max’s outfit to my own.
“You can call me Rey, and you?” I asked although I was entirely uninterested in her answer. I already knew where this was going, or at least where I intended to take it: nowhere fast.
“I’m Nicole. That’s not really your name,” she said batting fake eyelashes at me. She stuck out her chest a little. I told her it was the short version.
I didn’t want anyone interfering with my thought process, let alone a life-sized Barbie with fake tits and eye lashes to match preventing me from getting back to Rebel.
I promised Rebel I wouldn’t hover, but it wasn’t so her ex could hover in my stead. Why was she even here? I wondered if Rebel knew she was coming. It made sense that she chooses one of her best dresses to showcase her complete body of work.
Sliding closer, Nicole batted her eyelashes again as if I hadn’t been there, done that with her ass already. She touched my forearm. Her hand slid up my arm until she reached my bicep, running her hand over the fabric and pressing down, she squeezed while nodding appreciatively.
“Very nice,” she said smiling suggestively. Her eyes were telling me everything. I mumbled thanks, and then told said duty called, nodding off in Rebel’s direction. Nicole narrowed her eyes.
The bartender brought me the drinks right at that moment. I scooped them up into both hands, concentrating intently as I began making my way through the crowd. I felt someone come up behind me and slide a business card into my front shirt pocket. With both hands pre-occupied, how could I resist? I turned around just in time to see Nicole swish her hips, flip her hair and walk away. I shook my head.
I looked around for Rebel and Max but could find neither. That’s when a woman about 2 inches shorter than me walked past and Rebel finally came into sight. She had a business card in one hand and was staring hard at someone or something behind me.
Even though she looked away, I followed her gaze to the source. I wasn’t surprised to see Max walking toward us with a big cocky grin on her face.
Rebel & Rene is a collaborative work between Alix B. Golden and Chicago native, Knowledge. Find Rene’s story, here every 2nd Saturday of the month, as told by Knowledge. To read more of her, please visit her blog @ Stud With Swag.
