I Saw Your Profile by Rhonda Swan Page A

toward his.                                                         
    “May I kiss you?”
    “Here in public?”
    “I have nothing to hide.”
    “Then kiss me.”
    He covered her mouth with his lips and their tongues danced
for several minutes before Arianna decided the heat between them was too high.
    She pulled away from his embrace. “Let’s move this to the
dance floor.”
    “You don’t like kissing me?”
    “I like it a little too much. Besides we came here to
dance.”
    “Your wish is my command.”
    She watched Mr. Good Body groove to the music, wondering if
he could replicate those moves in the bedroom. She would wait to find out,
though, not wanting to go out like that on the first date, though technically
they’d known each other longer.
    They danced themselves sweaty, drinking apple martinis
between songs. Arianna had a buzz by the time they left the club after last
call.
    Mr. Good Body walked her to her car, and then joined her
inside. Not wanting the date to end, they listened to the CDs in Arianna’s car,
laughed and talked until the sun came up.
    “Drive back safely, dear,” Mr. Good Body said, kissing her
on the cheek. “I want to make sure we have the chance to see each other again.”

 
 
 

 
    Chapter Eleven

 
 
 
 
 
     
    A watched phone never rings, yet Janelle couldn’t move from
the white cordless on the end table or the silver cell phone next to it. Her
new man had promised to drive down for the weekend, but never showed up and
never called.
    They’d
been seeing each other for months, taking turns traveling up and down
Interstate Ninety-Five.
    When she
drove up to see him, they always stayed at the Fairfield Inn in Beltsville; a
few miles from the D.C. suburb where he told her he lived.
      He showed her his place once. She’d seen
pictures of his sister, but none of the mother and brother he said had moved in
with him, preventing them from having privacy at his place.
    Janelle
paced the floor of her condo, decorated in a tropical
theme, a tribute to her Jamaican roots.
    She
walked to the window and pulled back the turquoise blinds. She felt empty
inside and wanted someone to fill the void. Staring at the white sky, she
slipped into a fantasy, imagining a smiling man appearing at her door, taking
her in his arms and making her loneliness a faded memory. His features were
indistinct. He could have been the father she didn’t know or the man she had
fallen in love with. At that moment, either would do.
    Her
walnut hued face was wet with tears. She plunked down on the dark green leather
sofa and hugged a canvas pillow with an orchid design to her chest.
    She
looked at the bamboo-framed picture of her and her new love resting on a wicker
coffee table. They were on the merry-go-round at King’s Dominion, an amusement
park about twenty miles north of Richmond. The picture was a moment frozen in
time reluctantly captured by Vanessa when she and her boyfriend joined Chauncey
and Janelle on a double date.
    She
picked up the picture and ran her fingers along the edges of the frame
remembering that day. There had to be more days like that in store. New
memories to capture.
    She
grabbed the phone and dialed his cell.
    “I am
either with a client or otherwise occupied. Please leave the pertinent details
and I will return your call at my earliest convenient juncture.”
    It was
the tenth time she’d heard the message that weekend. She slammed the phone
down.
    God, I hate his damn voice mail. His earliest
convenient juncture!
    Janelle
knew Chauncey’s clients were impressed by his British accent and formal
language, but she hated it. She liked that he spoke in his native Bajan when he
was in her company, though his accent was slight, except when he was angry.
    She felt
special, as if she had a part of him no one else shared.
    She
picked up the receiver again, this time calling her daughter, Yasmin, in
Atlanta, to pass