I just loved this weather. I stood on my hotel room balcony and just watched as heat waves dance between the speeding cars. California had proved to be well worth it. The sun had seemed to remain idle in the sky since I'd arrived 3 days ago and I couldn't help but let my caramel-complexioned skin melt under its gaze.
Although this trip was originally planned to only visit my mother, I'd tried my hardest to transform it into my mini-vacation; calling off of work for this long had proven to be a difficult task. My boss, whom I believe is the spawn of true evil, did everything in her power to prevent me from leaving that too brightly lit office in Garden District, New Orleans.
I'd said to her, "In 2 months my ma will be moving very far away, I cannot have her gone without seeing her again."
I watched her wince at my slow and whimsical drawl, but she only stared.
"I will be gone for 5 days...I have already simplified both your schedule and books for my replacement. I have my flight booked Dr. Swanson." I pursed my small but plump, and currently scarlet-red painted, lips together and jutted my chin out.
Dr. Elizabeth R. Swanson, a Manhattan-raised, no nonsense private cardiologist, reclaimed her seat behind the semi-circular mahogany desk. The desk was fabulous, but utterly ridiculous; it took up almost a 3rd of the office room space. She had insisted on it.
She looked over her schedule book that I'd placed in front of her computer. "Well you better be back here no later than agreed, and I expect your replacement to be fully briefed," she said while staring at herself in the oval mirrors hanging on the wall behind me. Her hair, a pale blond with plenty grays, is pinned back in an elegant bun. She has on an eggplant colored silk blouse and simple, however, obviously expensive black slacks and flat patent leather shoes.
She knew I was the best assistant she'd ever hired, and wouldn't dare jeopardize her thriving practice; we both knew it. I smiled with one corner of my mouth, turned on my 4 inch heels, and switched out of the office.
That month I spent every weekend in the shopping district, stocking up on bathing suits and summer dresses. The only items I could afford to stop buying are shoes, since I could have bought a new car with the money I've spent on them.
"Mm cher it was worth it," I said to myself as I tossed my head of unruly, jet black hair back. I tip toed back into my hotel room, past the pretty little thing still sleeping in my bed. In front of the bathroom mirror, I undressed and took a quick analysis of my body.
I had never been considered a thin girl; with hips 44 inches around and toned, thick thighs, I was far from it. My breasts sit small and pretty, my nipples a pale peach color, and incredibly tiny are surrounded by quarter-sized puffy areolas. I turned and looked at the long scratches on my back left by the Venice Beach sweetie I'd picked up last night. I've forgotten her name. My waist fell in greatly, and was constantly tickled by the thick ropes of hair that tumbled from my scalp.
After stepping into the shower, I heard my cellphone ring. I knew it was my mother calling to inquire about our plans today. I hoped that whatsherface would be gone when I got out. She'd been fun, and her pussy was certainly delicious, but that was all.
While toweling off my hair, I heard the door slam shut. She'd left, and I was free to call my mother; my flight leaving early the next morning had me stressed to spend all the time that I could with her and still enjoy my last night in sunny California.
Two hours later I was ready; my eyes, large, chocolate-brown, and almond shaped, were dressed in tasteful black lining; my lips painted a soft pink; and my hair straightened, and pulled up in a tight ponytail. I had on my favorite little black dress and new pair of Jimmy Choo shoes I'd gotten yesterday on Melrose. I was taking no prisoners.
I had plans with my mother to meet for dinner and drinks at some bar in Hollywood. Stepping out of my cab, I was immediately thrust into the waves of freaks that seemed to be their own superstars, and couldn't help but revel in the body heat. The drones of people moved like schools of fish, a mixture of conversations and faces swimming around me. I quickly checked my phone to confirm the name of the bar, spotted it about a block down, and maneuvered my way through the crowds. My apartment in uptown, just around the corner from Bourbon St. had made me a professional at making my way through madness.
My mother was standing at the entrance to the bar, smiling and waving. She looked nice, clad in her dark blue jeans and flirty, white shirt. She'd been dealing with chronic illnesses for the past few years, and she was making her big comeback; had even cut all her pretty hair off to symbolize a new beginning.
"GeGe, I can't believe you still have that dress! Let's hurry before we can't get a seat," she beamed at me. We hugged quickly and moved inside. We found seats at the bar. She ordered herself and apple martini, I got a cranberry juice...I wanted to stay sober, at least for a little while.
The music in the place was great, the dj alternated smoothly between current chart toppers and old, sultry delights that could conjure up the finest memories in anyone. I swayed with the music in my seat and watched ma make eyes at men half her age. They loved it.
After a few moments, she finally turned her attention to me, "So how's work going for you, baby? Swanson still on the verge of falling into herself?"
"She's been off her rocker since before she entered them swamps Ma. I'm not worried about her."
"And how's Kayla? I haven't seen her since your graduation."
"She's great, on some trendy diet and thinks I'm a bad influence," I laughed. "She and Jonah are buying a house too," I said with less enthusiasm. Jonah was a jerk and complete waste of time, in my opinion. Kayla had been my best friend since we were just bad little girls running wild in the backwoods.
