Chapter 10
Carmela Needs A Time-Out
Thanks to some late evening haggling over a suite, Carmela had gotten off work much later than usual. The Latin looker was on the drive back home, sorry that it was so late, but glad that she'd missed all the afternoon traffic. As she cruised down the road, her phone went off. Soon enough, she had the device propped up against her ear. Carmela's husband was on the other end, and he didn't sound very happy. As Frankie spoke to her, his voice sounded strained and bitter.
"Some asshole named Gerald called a little while ago. He said the two of you have been sleeping together, off and on, for some four months now. He said he thought I should know about it."
Shit, Carmela thought to herself, gently swerving her SUV over from the slow lane to the shoulder, where she stopped and turned on her interior lights. In truth, Gerald had been fuming ever since she'd stopped messing around with him. Her undercover lover had finally done what he'd always threatened he would; Gerald had called her husband and told him all about their short-lived affair. Fortunately, Carmela had a plan, because she always had a plan. "I don't know anybody named Gerald."
"It's funny you should say that, because I wrote down his number from the caller ID," Frankie calmly continued. "And then I went through some of your stuff until I found the bill for your mobile phone. Guess how many times Gerald's number showed up on your bill?"
"You were digging around in my stuff?" Carmela tried to sound incredulous. "You have no right to be..."
"Don't change the subject. We're talking about why this jerk's phone number is on your bill like fifteen times."
Carmela thought fast. "Okay, the truth is that there is this guy, Gerald, who's been hitting on me for a while now. Of course, I wouldn't give him the time of day, so he probably got my number from the secretary at my office. He's just making all this stuff up because I turned him down. I would have told you about him before, but I thought I could handle it on my own and..."
Frankie cut her off. "I may not be a rocket scientist, but I can read a phone bill. You were the one calling him."
"I can explain how it would look that way, if you didn't know how he'd been leaving me messages and..."
"I've got three words for you: Sexy Little Things." Frankie stated. "This Gerald guy knew your favorite brand of underwear. He also knew that you like to shop at Victoria's Secret. Care to explain that one?"
"Anybody might be able to guess that just by looking at me..."
"Carmela, he knew your panty size. This dick even told me the designs on the panties that he claims he purchased for you." Frankie revealed. "I don't know what's worse; that you cheated on me, or that all these people around me kept telling me you were cheating, over and over. I was too hard-headed and too stupid to believe them."
"Frankie, I'm coming straight home right now, and..."
"Don't bother, I won't be here. I think I'm going out to find somebody else to screw, just like you've been doing all this time. You've probably been cheating on me ever since we got married..."
"Oh, don't you try to pin all of this shit on me!" Carmela erupted. "If you'd been half the man you're supposed to be, none of this would have... Frankie? Frankie!" She heard the phone click off on the other end, and a second later, nothing at all.
"You asshole!" She screamed at the phone. For a second, she almost slid her car window down and hurled the expensive device into traffic. Instead, she shoved her hand into her purse and buried the offending item as far down as she could.
For the next few minutes, Carmela simply sat there and fumed. She observed the flashing lights of the cars speeding by, feeling her car tremble due to the occasional gust of wind from an oversized hauler. Fucking dangerous place she decided to pull over, Carmela realized, setting her big car into drive. Impatiently, she gauged the number of vehicles rumbling along in the slow lane.
Taking a deep breath, Carmela joined the traffic flow. There was no way she'd be going straight home either, not after that argument. Mentally, the sexy Latina went through her options. She'd had a quick salad right before she left work, so going to a restaurant was out of the question, and for that matter, so was going to a bar. If Carmela wanted men ogling her, she'd have gone to the gym. She definitely would not have gone to some loser-infested dive, where drunken louts would inevitably start giving her the lamest come-on lines on the planet.
Still, Carmela needed somewhere to relax for a couple of hours.
As she drove, she happened to glance off the highway and caught a glimpse of a nearby shopping mall. It was one of the few she hadn't been to before, about equidistant between her apartment and her long commute to work, but too far from either place to have warranted an earlier visit. She'd go shopping, Carmela decided, taking the off-ramp as soon as it presented itself. A few minutes later, the hot Latina was pulling into a parking space close to one of those monolithic department stores. That was the moment when she realized she'd left most of her credit cards at home.
Damn her husband! Carmela cursed Frankie in her thoughts. He'd forced her to give up all her credit cards the previous week, as she was prone to shopping in binges, and she did have the bad habit of maxing out her cards. That was her money she was spending, wasn't it? What right did Frankie have to tell her how she should be spending the money she made? Why in hell had Carmela agreed to hand over the credit cards in the first place? It was as if she'd cut off her arm or something! She needed her plastic to survive!
Clicking on the interior light, she rummaged through her purse until she found her wallet. There was a single credit card still in there, which Frankie had warned her was only for emergencies. It was one of those secured deals, where she'd put three hundred dollars into a savings account, and she was restricted to spending only up to that amount.
She couldn't do much with a measly three hundred, not with her extravagant tastes. A few pairs of shoes and a latte coffee, and that would be the end of it. Mischievously, Carmela considered purchasing one of those calendars with those hunky firemen showing off their big muscles. Frankie had torn up the last one she'd gotten, she recalled. It had been meant as a joke, a catalyst for Frankie to get up off his lazy ass and start taking better care of his body. That had backfired with a vengeance, as he was now eating even more junk food than before.
What to do, what to do? Carmela spotted a movie theater sign near the parking lot's periphery. After a moment's thought, she concluded that watching a movie wasn't a bad idea. It would help her forget about Frankie, Gerald, and all the commotion those two men were causing in her life. She was too far to make out what titles were playing, but that didn't matter. Carmela was already looking forward to easing back in the theater's luxury seats. She imagined gripping a diet drink, munching on some lightly buttered popcorn, and of course, watching some hot and adventurous romance where the heroine would eventually be swept off her feet by some gorgeous beefcake. Too bad stuff like that didn't happen in real life. At least, stuff like that never happened to her.
The gorgeous Latina was still wearing her stuffy business attire from work. Thanks to her frequent visits to the gym, and her infrequent rendezvous with Gerald, she'd taken to carrying around a couple of sets of extra clothing in the back of her SUV. Slipping out from the driver's seat, she stepped over to open the back gate and perused her stockpile. The sweats wouldn't work for the theater, she contemplated. Neither would her skimpy red shorts, although she loved the way the shorts hugged her tight butt and showcased her trim and tanned legs. Carmela pulled out a short black skirt, snug at the middle to draw attention to her lean waist. She decided to top it off with a casual, violet hued, button top blouse. For footwear, she chose her black, ankle strap sandals.
The young woman had deliberately parked with the tailgate facing away from the mall and its intrusive lampposts, in order to effect a quick change of wardrobe. This was another bad habit she'd picked up from her clandestine meetings with Gerald, Carmela smirked, taking a quick glance around to make sure no spectators were looming about. Her conservative white blouse was soon unbuttoned and removed, along with her dark gray houndstooth slacks. Both were neatly folded and placed on the SUV's rear deck, leaving her clad only in her lacy black bra and matching thong. As she was putting away her black heels from work, she gradually became aware of a car engine idling nearby.
It was a mall security truck, which had crept to a point some thirty feet away. The truck sat there with its engine running and its lights shut off. The driver, an overweight and older white guy, stared at her with his mouth wide open.
Ignoring the sentry, Carmela carelessly pulled on the skirt, secured it, and casually started doing the same with her top. Had the security guard been more to her liking, she might have taken a bit longer to get dressed, but alas, fortune was not in the man's favor that night.
As soon as the ankle straps were fastened and her business attire put away, she walked back over to the driver's door and clicked on the interior light. Casually, Carmela reached into the center console. It took her a few moments to retrieve her little box of on-the-go jewelry. The items were all forged from the trendy 14 karat rose gold she'd come to fancy; a couple of flexible bangle bracelets, a chain weave necklace with an amethyst pendant, and a tri-color ankle bracelet adorned with tiny hearts and gemstone insets. She had no doubt that the old security guard was staring at her cute backside and legs. Even though the old man was nowhere near her type, Carmela nevertheless felt her athletic frame becoming aroused at being stared at so intently by a complete stranger.
A rampant thought crossed Carmela's mind; that of the security guard coming up behind her and forcing her skirt up. She imagined the guard manhandling her thong aside and forcing himself into her. Once she envisioned his fat belly rubbing against the bare skin of her lower back, however, that thought simply vanished.
Quickly, she finished putting on the last of her bling-bling and locked up the car. Resisting the urge to pull up her skirt one last time for the benefit of her spectator, Carmela commenced the short stroll to the nearest mall entrance. She changed her mind a few yards later. The devious Latina glanced back, to make sure that the truck was still there, and that the sentry was still watching. Nonchalantly, she flipped up her skirt and wiggled her saucy ass at him. Oh, she was such a naughty tease! Carmela felt her entire body tingle with bravado as she got moving again.
Her brisk pace soon brought her to the indoor mall's large sliding doors. Without bothering to look back, Carmela stepped into its air-conditioned confines.
Barely past eight and all of the good shops were already closed, she noted with some dismay. Most of the eateries were still up and running, however, and catering to the younger crowd. The well-dressed woman observed a noticeably ethnic gathering of mostly black girls wearing tight jeans and black boys with askew ball caps and basketball jerseys.
