"I'm going to marry you, Raechel." The small blond boy whispered into her ear. "Someday when I am a big man and you are a big lady I am going to find you and marry you because you are the most beautiful girl in the world!"
Raechel sat up and rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes and smiled to herself dreamily. She had had that dream again, and every time she had that dream, something great happened to her. The last time she had gotten the job at the publishing house, and the time before that she had won twenty dollars from a scratch-off lottery ticket. Twenty dollars may not have been a lot, but it was when you were a poor college student that was a lot of money...or at least enough to buy a beer or two with. Raechel smoothed her hair down and looked around. She hopped out of bed and ran down the hall and showered quickly then she combed her hair and grabbed a suit out of her closet. She had a very important meeting with a writer who she just knew was destined to be great. She took one last look in the mirror and made sure that her makeup was on just right. Raechel smiled at herself and noted that she looked really very pretty today. She never wore foundation because it clogged her pores, but that was just fine because she had smooth skin the color of apple cider that was flawless and seemed to glow from the inside. Her dark eyes were almond-shaped and were almost Asian looking. Her nose was what her grandmother described as being cute as a button and her mouth was the most sensual part of her body. Secretly, she thought that her mouth was the best of all of her facial features, and that fact was not lost on others since it was always commented on. Her full lips were beautifully shaped and kissable. They were a deep brown that required only that she put lip gloss on them and she looked as if she had on a brown lipstick. Raechel flipped her natural hair over her shoulder and laughed to herself. Something was going to happen today and it was sure to be wonderful.
* * *
She arrived at the office just two minutes before she was supposed to be at her desk and she walked in humming a wordless tune. She smiled at Jerry, her cubicle neighbor and set the coffee cup that was in her hand on the desk.
"You're in a good mood," He grumbled.
"It's just going to be one of those days, I think. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I just have a feeling that something is going to turn out to be fabulously wonderfully unexpectedly nice today."
"I need some of what you're on," Jerry grinned at her. She was attractive, this officemate; her ass was amazing and she had curves you could drive a car on! Jerry chuckled to himself and thought for the thousandth time that if he were 30 years younger he would ask her out himself. But then he also knew that she didn't date co-workers because he had heard a few of the younger guys who had actually tried asking her out say so. It was a shame, really, she was such a nice girl. She really should have someone special in her life. A woman like this certainly didn't come along very often. He had been alive long enough to know that.
"I'm not on anything; just having a great morning is all." She glanced at the clock and took a quick sip from her cup. "Oops, I have to get out of here if I want to make it to that meeting on time." She grabbed her day planner and the manuscript that she had been reading—truthfully she had read it through three times already because she was half in love with the main character—and dashed out the door. She couldn't wait to finally meet Myles Foster. She wanted to meet the man who was able to bring such a moving piece of literature to life.
She walked into the coffeeshop that was just a few blocks from Herland and Heart, the firm where she worked, and looked around for someone who might look arty and author-like. The trouble was everyone looked like that so she went to the counter, ordered a cheese Danish and sat at a window that was right by the window and in a perfect sunny spot. She stretched a little and closed her eyes with her face turned toward the sun. The golden rays warmed her face and she smiled happily.
"Excuse me, are you Raechel Bexley?" A deep and musical voice said to her.
"Um?" she turned her head slowly and opened her eyes then her mouth dropped open. She would know him anywhere! He was the one from the dream only he was twenty-five years older and definitely a man now. "It's—It's you!" she said slowly.
"Pardon me?" The tall blond man was greatly confused.
"I'm sorry—god, I just made an ass of myself! Yes, I am Raechel. You must be Myles Foster." She put out her hand and shook his firmly. "Please, have a seat," she motioned to the seat across from her with the other hand.
She stared at him for a second and let his hand go; he took the seat and smiled. "I was wondering how I would figure out who you were."
"How did you figure that out?" She asked curiously. She liked his smile and there was something about those blue-green eyes that gave her goose bumps and made her nipples hard. He was really hot!
"I went around asking every woman in here if she was you until I found you."
"Ah, very efficient," She laughed. She pushed her wildly curly hair out of her face and brought the manuscript out of her leather bag.
"Do you want a coffee or something before we get started?" He was eyeing her uneaten Danish with interest.
"No, but if you would like something, I would love to treat you, actually, Herland and Heart are treating," she gave him a naughty wink and he grinned. "What would you like?"
Myles watched her get up from the table and her nearly fell off his seat when he watched her glide up to the counter and grab his black coffee and muffin. He couldn't help thinking that he had seen her before, but just where he couldn't put his finger on it yet, but it would come to him later, it always did. She placed his food in front of him and then sat in her seat and gazed at him.
"So, Mr. Foster, I really think that you have a great future as a writer with our team."
"Do you really think it's good?" He wondered. "I don't want to sound like a cocky writer but I have other stories that are way better. This story just happens to be one that I could end." He laughed and his eyes twinkled merrily.
"If this isn't your good work, I would love to see your others. This story was phenomenal and poignant and beautiful. I could really identify with Sharon and her heartbreak when Peter died. How in the world do you understand women so well, Myles Foster, especially a black woman character?"
