Rainy days and automatic weapons always get me down. Those words were ushered from Horace's lips quite often. And never once was he proven wrong. Like today for example.
He had wanted to get to know Janice better from the first moment he saw her. There was something in her eyes that held his fascination for hours. Her laugh was gentle and soothing. Her smile brightened his days. So he knew he would never have the pleasure of her company.
When she called him the first thing to enter his mind wasn't how she got his phone number. He assumed she was calling in and wanted him to cover for her. Nothing new; everyone called him when they needed something. So he was shocked that she asked him out on a date.
Being jaded by several bad relationships Horace immediately put his guard up. Something was happening and he was going to get caught up in it. Cute women didn't ask him out; they rejected him when he asked them out. That was the natural order of things. He'd grown accustomed to hearing, "No." No matter what words were used, the end result was always another lonely night. Yet a very attractive woman had asked him out. She didn't even have the common courtesy to beat around the bush. So there was definitely something missing from the overall picture.
But that didn't mean he was going to get sloppy. He dressed as casual as possible while looking dapper. It meant dusting off a shirt he'd bought on a whim and a pair of pants he'd never worn, but the end result was a rather handsome looking black man. When he placed a splash of cologne on, he knew exactly what he looked like: your average guy.
So that was her plan. She would be seen in public with an average looking guy in the hopes of attracting one of those guys who specialized in snatching women from guys like that. It wasn't original, but he had to admit that it would work. He didn't have a claim on her. As far as it would appear to anyone they knew it was a simple get together of two co-workers. Nothing out of the ordinary. And he'd let himself get involved. He cracked a small smirk as he wondered how much he was slipping if he allowed himself to be so easily duped.
When she arrived at his apartment Horace took stock of her clothing. It was casual yet not overly so. The pants she wore could easily pass for a dress if she held perfectly still. The blouse was thick enough to suggest warmth and dark in color. Obviously so no one could tell what kind of underwear she wore. He invited her in and was surprised that she accepted.
None of her actions made sense. They were supposed to go out for dinner. Her treat. That meant that she was probably enjoying either a raise of splurging. It did not mean that she would accept his invitation to his home. Something was wrong. The smell of rain was in the air, and Horace knew that he was about to get hit in the stomach. Again.
They actually made small talk while he fixed her a cup of hot chocolate. Every word he spoke was carefully chosen so as not to hint at his true feelings for her. And he moved with the ease of a thief in the presence of officers looking for him. It would have been hilarious had he not been there. But he was.
And the subject matter was also strange. She kept trying to get him to slide into the gray area of sexual innuendo, but Horace had spent his college years with some of the most sick minds that beer and drugs could muster. He knew all of the safe outs, and used them effectively. And still he wondered what her angle was. When he found out, he was shocked.
In retrospect, he was caught off guard more in that one night than he had ever been. That it came from a woman was nothing special. That he'd let himself get caught that often was nothing short of humiliating. He'd survived falling totally in love with a woman who dumped him because he was too kind to her. He thought he could handle anything after that. He never once considered how he would deal with someone whose angle was a straight line. Janice actually like him.
But it didn't make sense. Aside from being a slight bit pudgy, she was perfect for the guy who didn't want to deal with a supermodel bitch every day. She had the personality of everyone's ideal mother. In short, she was perfect. But why him? She could do better.
When she came out and asked him why he was avoiding her, he opened his mouth to say something totally neutral. Mistake; the words that spilled forth were nothing but the unabashed truth. He was never one to correct himself; he simply went with the flow of the moment. This time was no different. He told her that he thought she was beautiful beyond all good reason. He let her know how she made him feel when she smiled. He told her everything. When his lungs had no more air, he shut his lips and waited for her to back slowly out of his apartment. She would run scared. Women always did whenever they asked a man for the truth and got it. It was one of those laws that simply could not be broken.
She took her cup of chocolate and walked into his living room. His right eye twitched. That was a sure sign that he'd missed something. His nerves were on edge. His mind was open fully. He could smell the slight hint of perfume on her. The brand of soap she used. Even...
Everything went blank. He sniffed the air again. It was gone. Had he been hallucinating? He followed her, carefully sampling the scent in the air. Hot chocolate. His cologne. Her perfume. Her soap. Her shampoo. Yes. It WAS there. Lust. What was that doing on her? Stupid question, but not really. He knew he was not the kind of guy whom women lusted after. Yet he knew that scent well. He had hunted the bars with his college friends lung enough. He could smell lust even through the haze of a Cuban cigar. She was horny. He tried to tell himself that it was because she was about to go out cruising for cock, but the lie wouldn't hold. She was horny... because of him.
None of it made sense. Sitting in his living room was a woman he could very well see himself sitting with for the rest of his life. She was not more than ten feet from him. And she wanted him. It didn't make sense. Even for a woman, it didn't make sense. Why him? Why now?
