Hey, it's Groundhog day this week and Jake may see his shadow self. What do you think? Take a peek at the next episode.
Nan
Please visit my website and read more about my books.
http://nandarnold.com
A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D. Arnold
Part 5
Morning. Sue nursed the predicted hangover - plus that lump on her head. What a night! Darling Art’s evening was probably ruined and I don’t remember most of mine…except for Jake Will.
Breaking the silence, the phone rang, Sue glanced at caller ID. – Jake Will. She answered more calmly than she felt. “Yes?”
“Hey Sue, just checking on you,” he said brightly.
“Thank you for calling.” Her heart fluttered but she must be cool. “I’m fine. Nothing food couldn’t cure. But maybe not, at least not now. Later, perhaps.” She threw out an opening, would he take it?
He should hang up. Jake’s growing attraction to Sue tamped down his head’s call for caution. “Well enough to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Lovely.” Her lip curled. “But why don’t we dine here? I’ll have the concierge arrange it. Seven o’clock okay?”
Startled, Jake agreed and ended the call. Pleased with the world, he headed off to a day of fittings for his new role.
At six forty-five, sharply dressed and carrying a bottle of Marie Brizard Apple Liqueur, a libation perfect for a variety of naughty cocktails like: Sex on the Beach #3, Intimate Moments, or Absolute Suicide, he walked up to the doorman and saluted. He signed in at the desk, waiting for the doorman to ring Sue. Squirrelly looking man. Jake didn’t appreciate the intense stare down before SC finally signaled Jake to go on his way.
Jake rode the now familiar elevator to the 16th floor.
Sue greeted Jake warmly, dazzling in an apple green, Asian print skirt and jewel button top, open to the cleavage. Her long, tan legs and tall sculpted sandals caught his eye. He watched her moves appreciatively as she poured two glasses of Chateau Margot.
They sipped their wine then, turning to face Jake, she ran freshly manicured nails down his chest. Without warning, she pushed him against the counter and planted a long, intoxicating kiss. Sliding her hand down his pants leg and running her tongue across his lips, she smiled. “Dinner can wait, can’t it? She pulled him into the bedroom.
Time fell away as passion rose and fell in waves, followed by ebbs of release and finally exhaustion. Lazing in the soft glow of candles, Jake was startled by Marley’s ring on his cell phone. Glancing at the time, he saw it was 10:30PM. Sue had fallen asleep. Her golden hair and naked shoulders drew him to her again, but the phone rang on.
Finally Jake gingerly climbed out of bed, tip toed to the living room and answered the cell. “Hello Marley.”
“I know where you are, you bastard. I’ll break you for this, both of you!” Marley hung up. Not as confident as she had sounded, she wondered what to do.
Panicked, Jake dressed quickly. Hungry and eyeing the beautiful spread on the table, he grabbed what he could carry and made a fast exit, past that pesky doorman as heedful as a doberman. He hailed a cab himself to avoid another encounter with SC then rode to Marley’s brownstone where he rang the bell repeatedly. Finally, Marley opened the door, silent and furious.
“Marley, I swear I’ll never go near her, or any woman for that matter, again. Believe me. It was a mistake,” Jake beseeched her. “You were right. She is high on something all the time and just plain trouble.”
Marley softened a little, pulling him in and closing the heavy door behind her. Within a few days, Jake moved into her guest floor and the trap door slammed behind him. As he and Marley’s driver struggled to get his things into the tiny elevator, he could swear he heard a voice inside the mirrored cubicle warning, “Don’t do it Jake. It’s a big mistake…big mistake…big mistake…” This was followed by what sound like a… sneeze.
Overhead, SC grumbled to himself, “Marley should have a talk with her housekeeper. Moldings in this thing could use some dusting.”
Watch for More Next Week: Will Sue go to the dark side?
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Uptown girl falls for actor, what’s his role? Superhero, super cad or sap?
Are you frosted? Warm up with the latest episode of A Tale from Eve's Garden.
Nan
Please visit my web site and read more about my books.
http://nandarnold.com/
A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D. Arnold
Part 4
After that dizzying collapse at her door, Sue awoke on her bed, supported by her familiar plush pillow farm. Jake bent over her applying a cold compress against her head, Art by his side. “What happened,” she whispered.
“You fell and bumped your beautiful noggin.” I called Art and he came right over. I think a trip to the ER is in order. He’s not as certain.”
“No. I’m fine.” Sue stumbled off the bed, and Art and Jake each grabbed one of her arms. “Whoa, my legs feel like Jell-o.”
Art smirked, “Bet your skull feels like Marley’s inside, playing a xylophone.”.
“Clever. Please, I’m sick, don’t mention the woman. Call Dr. Zeus.”
“Who?”
Art interjected, “a physician we know.”
“Yes. He could take a look. I don’t want to end up in the morgue…hey, I suddenly remember everything, meeting Jake, the cab ride. Oh, the singing cab driver, aspirin, quick!”
“Not sure about analgesics, but I’ll give the good doc a call. Probably busy after last night. For now, let’s walk, shall we? All together, and one, two, three.”
“Shut up, Art.” She looked at Jake Will. “Quite the gentleman. Thanks for sticking around.”
“Art’s right, walk.”
“Seems I’m out numbered.”
Fortunately,” Art sneered, “that Vera Wang dress is short and I suppose comfortable, so apropos a forced march.” After a long while, and eschewing coffee, Jake coaxed her to drink a Coke.
Slowly, the color returned to her face. “See, I’m walking and talking normally. All fixed. No need for Dr. Zeus.”
Art kissed her cheek, “Good night, I’ll call later. Coming Jake?”
“Nope. I’m sleeping on that lounge across the room.”
“Noble gesture. Sure you don’t play both sides of the street? No? Well, ta ta, I’ll let myself out.”
“Jake Will. Will you what? Be my hero?” Back on the bed, Sue snuggled into the pillows and in no time fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. .
Hours later, Sue squinted at a rude blast of sunlight and heard the deliciously gravelly sound of a male voice engaged in an intense phone conversation. Oh yes. She smiled ruefully. Jake Will, would-be superhero. She lay quietly and listened.
In the other room Jake defended his actions to a female fury. “Marley! How many times can I apologize? How was I supposed to know you know Sue Blu? Personally? She’s what? Oh, God. I didn’t know. Look, all I did was help her home. She hit her head and I ended up sleeping on a not so comfortable lounge to make sure she didn’t cop a concussion after. Okay, she was a tad high. But harmless to my virtue, believe me
“I’m well aware of that audition you set up for me. I’m leaving—now. First, a brief stop at home for a quick shower and change. I’ll meet you there at 1:00PM. I promise. Thank you, Marley. You know how much I appreciate your help.” He hung up and shook his head. “The price we actors pay for success,” He looked up and saw Sue was awake. “Hey, how’s your head?”
Sue smiled weakly, head still pounding. “Okay. So you and Marley Winthrop are an item, huh? What awful things did she tell you about me?”
Flustered, Jake gazed out at the view of Central Park. “Nothing worth repeating.” He rose from the damask clad sofa. “She’s angry because I left her last night and she couldn’t reach my cell phone. I’d turned it off so as not to disturb you. Marley’s convinced I’m in bed with you.”
“Oh, this is scrumptious.” Sue laughed, feeling stronger. “I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
“Hard feelings between you two?” He cocked his head. “As I’m in the middle, I’d like to know.”
“Marley’s family has been a pillar of New York society for decades. But, she is not dependable and has alienated many of the do-gooders,” Sue explained.
“And, you’re reliable ?”
“Depends. Anyway, through my Gran’s connections, I wound up replacing her on a couple of prestigious boards. Seems she’s determined to undermine me.”
“So, it’s not some squabble over men?”
“No,” Sue smiled coyly. “But it could be now that I’ve met you.”
They stared at one another for a long moment. Then Jake edged for the door. He shrugged. “I’m not a toy to be fought over.”
“Call me sometime,” Sue called after him. “You’ll like me even better when I’m sober.”
“Yeah?” he shouted. Jake closed the apartment door and bolted for the elevator.
Sue’s words, ‘Marley’s not dependable’, worried Jake as he race walked toward his place a few blocks away. Well, Marley, am I just another diversion for you?, What about all the evenings he’d “played” her charming escort to this soirée or that. And all the nights we’ve slept together. “Hardly the best lay I’ve ever had,” he sputtered , startling an older couple walking nearby.
Showered and dressed, Jake grabbed a cab for the theatre district. Having made a name for himself years ago in Rent off Broadway, he had risen through big time roles. But since the recession, good parts and successes were much harder to come by. His agent quit taking his calls, leaving him to his own devices.
This audition was vital – an opportunity to play lead in a new Andrew Lloyd Weber production. Jake couldn’t screw it up. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Sue and the heat of her attraction. I’m skating on razor thin ice between a couple of flighty trust funders at play. Jake’s last thought before smoothing his suede jacket and walking confidently into the audition.
Marley met him in the lobby. “I’ve been watching the others. You have an excellent chance,” she winked. She was right. He landed the part and fell more deeply into her trap.
Lying in bed with Marley that night, all Jake could think about was Sue. What harm could a phone call do? To see if she was still all right.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…………………
Watch for More Next Week:
Morning brings a reality check for Jake. Will he sell out to Marley?
Nan
Please visit my web site and read more about my books.
http://nandarnold.com/
A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D. Arnold
Part 4
After that dizzying collapse at her door, Sue awoke on her bed, supported by her familiar plush pillow farm. Jake bent over her applying a cold compress against her head, Art by his side. “What happened,” she whispered.
“You fell and bumped your beautiful noggin.” I called Art and he came right over. I think a trip to the ER is in order. He’s not as certain.”
“No. I’m fine.” Sue stumbled off the bed, and Art and Jake each grabbed one of her arms. “Whoa, my legs feel like Jell-o.”
Art smirked, “Bet your skull feels like Marley’s inside, playing a xylophone.”.
“Clever. Please, I’m sick, don’t mention the woman. Call Dr. Zeus.”
“Who?”
Art interjected, “a physician we know.”
“Yes. He could take a look. I don’t want to end up in the morgue…hey, I suddenly remember everything, meeting Jake, the cab ride. Oh, the singing cab driver, aspirin, quick!”
“Not sure about analgesics, but I’ll give the good doc a call. Probably busy after last night. For now, let’s walk, shall we? All together, and one, two, three.”
“Shut up, Art.” She looked at Jake Will. “Quite the gentleman. Thanks for sticking around.”
“Art’s right, walk.”
“Seems I’m out numbered.”
Fortunately,” Art sneered, “that Vera Wang dress is short and I suppose comfortable, so apropos a forced march.” After a long while, and eschewing coffee, Jake coaxed her to drink a Coke.
Slowly, the color returned to her face. “See, I’m walking and talking normally. All fixed. No need for Dr. Zeus.”
Art kissed her cheek, “Good night, I’ll call later. Coming Jake?”
“Nope. I’m sleeping on that lounge across the room.”
“Noble gesture. Sure you don’t play both sides of the street? No? Well, ta ta, I’ll let myself out.”
“Jake Will. Will you what? Be my hero?” Back on the bed, Sue snuggled into the pillows and in no time fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. .
Hours later, Sue squinted at a rude blast of sunlight and heard the deliciously gravelly sound of a male voice engaged in an intense phone conversation. Oh yes. She smiled ruefully. Jake Will, would-be superhero. She lay quietly and listened.
In the other room Jake defended his actions to a female fury. “Marley! How many times can I apologize? How was I supposed to know you know Sue Blu? Personally? She’s what? Oh, God. I didn’t know. Look, all I did was help her home. She hit her head and I ended up sleeping on a not so comfortable lounge to make sure she didn’t cop a concussion after. Okay, she was a tad high. But harmless to my virtue, believe me
“I’m well aware of that audition you set up for me. I’m leaving—now. First, a brief stop at home for a quick shower and change. I’ll meet you there at 1:00PM. I promise. Thank you, Marley. You know how much I appreciate your help.” He hung up and shook his head. “The price we actors pay for success,” He looked up and saw Sue was awake. “Hey, how’s your head?”
Sue smiled weakly, head still pounding. “Okay. So you and Marley Winthrop are an item, huh? What awful things did she tell you about me?”
Flustered, Jake gazed out at the view of Central Park. “Nothing worth repeating.” He rose from the damask clad sofa. “She’s angry because I left her last night and she couldn’t reach my cell phone. I’d turned it off so as not to disturb you. Marley’s convinced I’m in bed with you.”
“Oh, this is scrumptious.” Sue laughed, feeling stronger. “I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
“Hard feelings between you two?” He cocked his head. “As I’m in the middle, I’d like to know.”
“Marley’s family has been a pillar of New York society for decades. But, she is not dependable and has alienated many of the do-gooders,” Sue explained.
“And, you’re reliable ?”
“Depends. Anyway, through my Gran’s connections, I wound up replacing her on a couple of prestigious boards. Seems she’s determined to undermine me.”
“So, it’s not some squabble over men?”
“No,” Sue smiled coyly. “But it could be now that I’ve met you.”
They stared at one another for a long moment. Then Jake edged for the door. He shrugged. “I’m not a toy to be fought over.”
“Call me sometime,” Sue called after him. “You’ll like me even better when I’m sober.”
“Yeah?” he shouted. Jake closed the apartment door and bolted for the elevator.
Sue’s words, ‘Marley’s not dependable’, worried Jake as he race walked toward his place a few blocks away. Well, Marley, am I just another diversion for you?, What about all the evenings he’d “played” her charming escort to this soirée or that. And all the nights we’ve slept together. “Hardly the best lay I’ve ever had,” he sputtered , startling an older couple walking nearby.
Showered and dressed, Jake grabbed a cab for the theatre district. Having made a name for himself years ago in Rent off Broadway, he had risen through big time roles. But since the recession, good parts and successes were much harder to come by. His agent quit taking his calls, leaving him to his own devices.
This audition was vital – an opportunity to play lead in a new Andrew Lloyd Weber production. Jake couldn’t screw it up. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Sue and the heat of her attraction. I’m skating on razor thin ice between a couple of flighty trust funders at play. Jake’s last thought before smoothing his suede jacket and walking confidently into the audition.
Marley met him in the lobby. “I’ve been watching the others. You have an excellent chance,” she winked. She was right. He landed the part and fell more deeply into her trap.
Lying in bed with Marley that night, all Jake could think about was Sue. What harm could a phone call do? To see if she was still all right.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…………………
Watch for More Next Week:
Morning brings a reality check for Jake. Will he sell out to Marley?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Sue spirals downward when a cupid straight from rehab steps in
Now that the crush of holidays is over, I hope you will settle back and enjoy part 3 of A Tale from Eve's Garden.
Please visit my website and read more about my books
http://www.nandarnold.com
A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D. Arnold
Part 3
The final vestiges of the glitz of Fashion Week behind them, Jake pushed wobbly kneed Sue into a waiting cab that crept slowly through noisy, crowded streets. “Whadyaknow, wheredaya go?” The cabbie grinned into his grimy mirror. “Or, just wanna drive around so youse can messa round?”
“God, no. I hardly know this man.” Sue blurted out her address. Not that she hadn’t found herself in similar circumstances before. She folded into her wrap, watching Jake from the corner of a bloodshot eye. Meanwhile, the cabbie crooned “New York, New York” off-key with a deep Jersey accent.
Jake gazed out the window on their drive uptown while Sue made a call on her iPhone. Jake remembered finer times when his name on the Broadway marquis invited theatre goers inside to see him, in the lead. I shouldn’t have done this. Always, trying to save the day when my livelihood is flapping in the breeze. What was I thinking! I should be back there, movin’ and shakin', kissing up to Marley. Momentarily glum and deflated, he glanced at Sue. What was her story? At great risk, he must know more about her.
“Marg Applegate, please.” Sue sighed. “Oh, why does Marg insist her PA go everywhere with her? Can’t she answer her own damned phone?" She modulated her tone into a purr. “Marg, Sue here. Sorry, dear, I must cancel plans for brunch at the Modern tomorrow. I anticipate a nasty hangover.”
She rolled her eyes at a glib retort. “Yes, among other things.” She clicked her nails on her purse. “My words are not slurred. Anyway. I adore Danny Meyer’s restaurants, as you know, but barfing up exquisite food in the oh-so-unique co-ed toilette salon there is too dreadful to contemplate. Yes, another time. Ciao.”
”Planning ahead, huh?” Jake grinned.
Staring hard at him, she replied, “Yeah, but not about you!"
What did that mean? Old securities creped in. We don’t have a future?
Sue jumped when the cab screeched to the curb beside her building. Who does he think he is? "I am not a pushover." The cabbie was still singing.
“You, a pushover? Never crossed my mind.” Jake reached for Sue’s hand to help her from the cab. Green eyes met blue again and the moment flashed neon electric.
“Glad to hear it.”
Turning quickly to hide a smile, Jake efficiently paid the singing cabbie and the two stood on the sidewalk.
Awkward. “Thanks for the rescue,” mumbled Sue. Now what?
“Oh, it’s not over yet. Coffee?”
Curiosity getting the best of her drunken state, she said, “Sure, why not?”
“I know we can find an all-night diner somewhere.”
“I’m hardly up for walking. Let’s stay here.”
Jake, feeling confident he would soon know much more about this intriging woman,led Sue to the door. He stopped. This woman’s trouble, like a lovely summer breeze blowing reality right outta my head.…
Meanwhile, in an alternate universe…
A recalcitrant cherub, Stupido Cupido, casually known as SC, played with strings on his bow. He hated rehab. This was his second stint. Porn addiction was an occupational hazard, it could happen to anyone. You guys not in the field don’t get it. All that romance we stir up; the resulting he-ing and she-ing. He merrily recalled the voluptuous blonde who invited her new found heartthrob to try out her round bed…
Dragged back into the moment, a booming voice rang in his ears. “Pay attention.”
“Geez, I thought I’d escaped punishment for my past crimes not to mention my Blue Tooth and Crackberry syndrome once I was dropped back here in the great beyond.”
“No jokes!” the voice bellowed. “This is your last chance pal. If you want to be a certified cupid, get back down there. We have a real people problem. Fix it before a deadly substance slides down the throats of one gullible guy and one disheartened gal into disaster!”
Bam!
In a wink, SC once again in human form lay sprawled across a recycle bin. What the heck? He struggled to his feet and grimaced when he looked down at his clothing. What’s up with this? he puzzled. Am I in Macy’s parade?
About that time, a man in a similar suit whirled around the corner, shouting “This is the last time I’m huntin’ you down. If you’re going to be a doorman, behave like one…get it!”
“Okay, okay,” SC said. “Doorman one-oh-one. Stay at the door. I knew that.” He ambled behind the taller man. “Uh, who are you, again?”
“Are you on drugs, buddy? I’m Roger Spot. I take the shift from 6:00PM to midnight. Oh, and in case you forgot everything else, your shift goes from midnight-meaning it started twenty minutes ago-till 9:00AM. Here’s the Rules sheet. Read it. Do it. Got it?”
“Sure thing, thanks.”
“Because of you, I’m late. My wife is always suspicious when I am late.”
SC frowned. Great, minutes into this new gig and I’m causing problems between a man and wife, not fixing romantic breakdowns. They’ll call me back to rehab in no time. "Arghhh."
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Bye, Shorty.” With a scowl and a shaking finger, the other doorman walked backwards, yelling. “Try to stay awake till the first shift relieves you.” Before he faded into the inky night, SC ran up and handed the man some bills.
“What’s this for?”
“I owe you for being late and all. Buy your wife some flowers.”
“Hey, thanks, was gonna stop by this all night grocer for some smokes, they got those bundled bouquets there. I’ll do that. Sorry I called you Shorty.”
“No biggie.” SC stepped cautiously inside the gilded wooden doors. A doorman, now there’s a perfect assignment. I already feel like a doormat. Gotta say it’s a nice place.
A yellow cab jerked to a stop. With a flourish, SC opened it, smiling. “Hello.”
Sue, still swaddled in a luscious Pashmina, said, “You’re new.”
“Yes miss, I’m SC, here to serve you.”
She must be tipsy to the max. Within seconds upon arriving home, time bent. She still wanted coffee but hadn’t she and Jake discussed that? No more Dom for her, no matter what vintage. Strictly Vive Cliquot from now on. About that craving for caffeine. Ah, Starbucks. “Nice, would you pop over to Starbuck’s and bring back a Venti Mocha?”
SC looked startled.
“Kidding.” She chuckled. “I know you can’t leave the door.” Then she tripped but the man with her, kept her from falling and, under SC’s vigilant stare, helped her into a waiting elevator. SC felt a familiar vibration. So, that’s the pair.
Inside, Sue and Jake rode in silence to the 16th floor. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t communication going on. Their brains and body parts cranked big time to the tune of primordial desire.
Regret soon slapped Sue with ice cold reality. I’m barely sober. I’m so tired I could cry. I don’t know Jake and I can’t always trust Art’s judgment. Her worldly, sophisticated persona crumbled. Stepping out of the elevator, staggering to her door, she unlocked it before an overwhelming dizzy spell sent her crumpling to the floor.
Watch for More Next Week:
Uptown girl falls for actor. What’s his role? superhero, super cad or sap?
Please visit my website and read more about my books
http://www.nandarnold.com
A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D. Arnold
Part 3
The final vestiges of the glitz of Fashion Week behind them, Jake pushed wobbly kneed Sue into a waiting cab that crept slowly through noisy, crowded streets. “Whadyaknow, wheredaya go?” The cabbie grinned into his grimy mirror. “Or, just wanna drive around so youse can messa round?”
“God, no. I hardly know this man.” Sue blurted out her address. Not that she hadn’t found herself in similar circumstances before. She folded into her wrap, watching Jake from the corner of a bloodshot eye. Meanwhile, the cabbie crooned “New York, New York” off-key with a deep Jersey accent.
Jake gazed out the window on their drive uptown while Sue made a call on her iPhone. Jake remembered finer times when his name on the Broadway marquis invited theatre goers inside to see him, in the lead. I shouldn’t have done this. Always, trying to save the day when my livelihood is flapping in the breeze. What was I thinking! I should be back there, movin’ and shakin', kissing up to Marley. Momentarily glum and deflated, he glanced at Sue. What was her story? At great risk, he must know more about her.
“Marg Applegate, please.” Sue sighed. “Oh, why does Marg insist her PA go everywhere with her? Can’t she answer her own damned phone?" She modulated her tone into a purr. “Marg, Sue here. Sorry, dear, I must cancel plans for brunch at the Modern tomorrow. I anticipate a nasty hangover.”
She rolled her eyes at a glib retort. “Yes, among other things.” She clicked her nails on her purse. “My words are not slurred. Anyway. I adore Danny Meyer’s restaurants, as you know, but barfing up exquisite food in the oh-so-unique co-ed toilette salon there is too dreadful to contemplate. Yes, another time. Ciao.”
”Planning ahead, huh?” Jake grinned.
Staring hard at him, she replied, “Yeah, but not about you!"
What did that mean? Old securities creped in. We don’t have a future?
Sue jumped when the cab screeched to the curb beside her building. Who does he think he is? "I am not a pushover." The cabbie was still singing.
“You, a pushover? Never crossed my mind.” Jake reached for Sue’s hand to help her from the cab. Green eyes met blue again and the moment flashed neon electric.
“Glad to hear it.”
Turning quickly to hide a smile, Jake efficiently paid the singing cabbie and the two stood on the sidewalk.
Awkward. “Thanks for the rescue,” mumbled Sue. Now what?
“Oh, it’s not over yet. Coffee?”
Curiosity getting the best of her drunken state, she said, “Sure, why not?”
“I know we can find an all-night diner somewhere.”
“I’m hardly up for walking. Let’s stay here.”
Jake, feeling confident he would soon know much more about this intriging woman,led Sue to the door. He stopped. This woman’s trouble, like a lovely summer breeze blowing reality right outta my head.…
Meanwhile, in an alternate universe…
A recalcitrant cherub, Stupido Cupido, casually known as SC, played with strings on his bow. He hated rehab. This was his second stint. Porn addiction was an occupational hazard, it could happen to anyone. You guys not in the field don’t get it. All that romance we stir up; the resulting he-ing and she-ing. He merrily recalled the voluptuous blonde who invited her new found heartthrob to try out her round bed…
Dragged back into the moment, a booming voice rang in his ears. “Pay attention.”
“Geez, I thought I’d escaped punishment for my past crimes not to mention my Blue Tooth and Crackberry syndrome once I was dropped back here in the great beyond.”
“No jokes!” the voice bellowed. “This is your last chance pal. If you want to be a certified cupid, get back down there. We have a real people problem. Fix it before a deadly substance slides down the throats of one gullible guy and one disheartened gal into disaster!”
Bam!
In a wink, SC once again in human form lay sprawled across a recycle bin. What the heck? He struggled to his feet and grimaced when he looked down at his clothing. What’s up with this? he puzzled. Am I in Macy’s parade?
About that time, a man in a similar suit whirled around the corner, shouting “This is the last time I’m huntin’ you down. If you’re going to be a doorman, behave like one…get it!”
“Okay, okay,” SC said. “Doorman one-oh-one. Stay at the door. I knew that.” He ambled behind the taller man. “Uh, who are you, again?”
“Are you on drugs, buddy? I’m Roger Spot. I take the shift from 6:00PM to midnight. Oh, and in case you forgot everything else, your shift goes from midnight-meaning it started twenty minutes ago-till 9:00AM. Here’s the Rules sheet. Read it. Do it. Got it?”
“Sure thing, thanks.”
“Because of you, I’m late. My wife is always suspicious when I am late.”
SC frowned. Great, minutes into this new gig and I’m causing problems between a man and wife, not fixing romantic breakdowns. They’ll call me back to rehab in no time. "Arghhh."
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Bye, Shorty.” With a scowl and a shaking finger, the other doorman walked backwards, yelling. “Try to stay awake till the first shift relieves you.” Before he faded into the inky night, SC ran up and handed the man some bills.
“What’s this for?”
“I owe you for being late and all. Buy your wife some flowers.”
“Hey, thanks, was gonna stop by this all night grocer for some smokes, they got those bundled bouquets there. I’ll do that. Sorry I called you Shorty.”
“No biggie.” SC stepped cautiously inside the gilded wooden doors. A doorman, now there’s a perfect assignment. I already feel like a doormat. Gotta say it’s a nice place.
A yellow cab jerked to a stop. With a flourish, SC opened it, smiling. “Hello.”
Sue, still swaddled in a luscious Pashmina, said, “You’re new.”
“Yes miss, I’m SC, here to serve you.”
She must be tipsy to the max. Within seconds upon arriving home, time bent. She still wanted coffee but hadn’t she and Jake discussed that? No more Dom for her, no matter what vintage. Strictly Vive Cliquot from now on. About that craving for caffeine. Ah, Starbucks. “Nice, would you pop over to Starbuck’s and bring back a Venti Mocha?”
SC looked startled.
“Kidding.” She chuckled. “I know you can’t leave the door.” Then she tripped but the man with her, kept her from falling and, under SC’s vigilant stare, helped her into a waiting elevator. SC felt a familiar vibration. So, that’s the pair.
Inside, Sue and Jake rode in silence to the 16th floor. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t communication going on. Their brains and body parts cranked big time to the tune of primordial desire.
Regret soon slapped Sue with ice cold reality. I’m barely sober. I’m so tired I could cry. I don’t know Jake and I can’t always trust Art’s judgment. Her worldly, sophisticated persona crumbled. Stepping out of the elevator, staggering to her door, she unlocked it before an overwhelming dizzy spell sent her crumpling to the floor.
Watch for More Next Week:
Uptown girl falls for actor. What’s his role? superhero, super cad or sap?
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Fashion Week...Blue Eyes Meet Green and Turn a Socialite Purple with Rage!
Hello Holiday doers! Why not take a short break and read part 2 of "A Tale from Eve's Garden"?
Please visit my site for information about me and my books.
http://nandarnold.com/books.html
A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D. Arnold
Part 2
Fashion Week, NYC…
Ah, the glitz and frenzy of Fashion Week. Along with the changing leaves on the trees, came design changes for the well-dressed worldly wise woman.
In September of 2010, New York Fashion Week relocated to Lincoln Center, known by most as the home to the Metropolitan Opera house and American Ballet Theatre. Sue and other fashionistas were dazzled by the red carpet treatment and transformation of the events when they moved from tent to temple.
Sue and her tricked out pals were treated to front row seats for late breaking fashion news, rumors and gossip. And a jaundiced eyeful of rockin’ fashion, special events and major fashion shows.
Sue was sucked further into the fury by chum, Art McCoy. They had grown up together in the back country of Greenwich, CT. They knew each other well, probably two well.
“Heartless Art” she called her bisexual pal, dreadfully deceitful when called upon and dreadfully handsome. Good at opening more of those all important social doors, too.
Back in darkened rooms a litter of ill-gotten prescription drugs alluded to another less glamorous side. Art was a functioning addict with serious health problems. Fortunately, he, too, had money and resources to manage his Hotel California-style afflictions. Who cared. It was Fashion Week!
“So much drama and farce,” Sue lamented as Art flitted about at Mulberry’s after party. Sue’s silent table mate, a half empty crystal flute of Dom Perignon, was disappointing. Vintage 1921 you’re not. Unlike the two bottles recently auctioned at Christie’s for over $8,000. But you’ll do for now.
And then, everything changed when he walked in.
He was the type to turn heads, jaded and otherwise, including Sue’s. “OMG. My head is playing Broadway tunes,” Sue giggled. “I’m singing them, too.”
Socialite Marley Plaster, standing nearby, shot Sue a glare of disapproval and quickly looked away, in the direction of Mr. Head Turner.
Sue considered firing back with an unlady like gesture, but thought better of it. Enough! Time to leave. She’d never catch his eye, probably gay as Art besides. Sue stood up, way too fast.
Wavering on her Jimmy Choo’s, she began to fall forward when a strong grip on her arm pulled her back from the brink of severe humiliation. “Hello, I’m Jake Will,” he smiled, still gripping her arm. “It’s my experience stilettos and robust consumption of champagne don’t mix. You okay?”
“Of course, “Sue snapped, a defensive act to protect herself from anticipated rejection.
“Good” Jake stared directly into her eyes, but didn’t loosen his grip. “Green as gimlet.”
His words teased her earlobes. Her lips parted to invite a more intimate introduction but instead, she snickered. “Contacts.” Meanwhile, his baby blues gripped her tighter than his fingers, his warm, strong fingers.
Carelessly, she reached around his neck and ran her fingers through his dark sand color hair. His features were a symphony, his skin flawless and tan. The personification of summertime fun like sex on a sandy beach.
“You need fresh air.” Jake broke her reverie, nudging her toward a side door, and then outside onto the busy street.
Hmmmm. Another sensation sliced through her inebriation as the two tangoed forward, all the while maintaining a copulatory gaze fest. Several sensations, all welcome as old friends reunited after a long journey…
Marley Winthrop watched in disbelief as Sue and Jake danced out
Outside, night air temporarily worked its magic and Sue hesitated. “Wait. I don’t know you.”
“Excellent!” A familiar voice rang out from behind. Art burst out of the building with two male models. “I see you two have met.” Art scolded Sue, “Your purse, darling. Never leave Prada behind.”
“Thanks,” Sue said.
“No bother. I’ve been trying to get you two together for months. Frankly, I wanted Jake for myself, but,” he made a dramatic shoulder shrug and winked at his companions, “life doesn’t always work that way. Later.” The three men walked away on their own journey.
Watch for Part 3 in January of 2010. Happy Holidays!
Sue spirals downward when a cupid straight from rehab steps in.
Please visit my site for information about me and my books.
http://nandarnold.com/books.html
A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D. Arnold
Part 2
Fashion Week, NYC…
Ah, the glitz and frenzy of Fashion Week. Along with the changing leaves on the trees, came design changes for the well-dressed worldly wise woman.
In September of 2010, New York Fashion Week relocated to Lincoln Center, known by most as the home to the Metropolitan Opera house and American Ballet Theatre. Sue and other fashionistas were dazzled by the red carpet treatment and transformation of the events when they moved from tent to temple.
Sue and her tricked out pals were treated to front row seats for late breaking fashion news, rumors and gossip. And a jaundiced eyeful of rockin’ fashion, special events and major fashion shows.
Sue was sucked further into the fury by chum, Art McCoy. They had grown up together in the back country of Greenwich, CT. They knew each other well, probably two well.
“Heartless Art” she called her bisexual pal, dreadfully deceitful when called upon and dreadfully handsome. Good at opening more of those all important social doors, too.
Back in darkened rooms a litter of ill-gotten prescription drugs alluded to another less glamorous side. Art was a functioning addict with serious health problems. Fortunately, he, too, had money and resources to manage his Hotel California-style afflictions. Who cared. It was Fashion Week!
“So much drama and farce,” Sue lamented as Art flitted about at Mulberry’s after party. Sue’s silent table mate, a half empty crystal flute of Dom Perignon, was disappointing. Vintage 1921 you’re not. Unlike the two bottles recently auctioned at Christie’s for over $8,000. But you’ll do for now.
And then, everything changed when he walked in.
He was the type to turn heads, jaded and otherwise, including Sue’s. “OMG. My head is playing Broadway tunes,” Sue giggled. “I’m singing them, too.”
Socialite Marley Plaster, standing nearby, shot Sue a glare of disapproval and quickly looked away, in the direction of Mr. Head Turner.
Sue considered firing back with an unlady like gesture, but thought better of it. Enough! Time to leave. She’d never catch his eye, probably gay as Art besides. Sue stood up, way too fast.
Wavering on her Jimmy Choo’s, she began to fall forward when a strong grip on her arm pulled her back from the brink of severe humiliation. “Hello, I’m Jake Will,” he smiled, still gripping her arm. “It’s my experience stilettos and robust consumption of champagne don’t mix. You okay?”
“Of course, “Sue snapped, a defensive act to protect herself from anticipated rejection.
“Good” Jake stared directly into her eyes, but didn’t loosen his grip. “Green as gimlet.”
His words teased her earlobes. Her lips parted to invite a more intimate introduction but instead, she snickered. “Contacts.” Meanwhile, his baby blues gripped her tighter than his fingers, his warm, strong fingers.
Carelessly, she reached around his neck and ran her fingers through his dark sand color hair. His features were a symphony, his skin flawless and tan. The personification of summertime fun like sex on a sandy beach.
“You need fresh air.” Jake broke her reverie, nudging her toward a side door, and then outside onto the busy street.
Hmmmm. Another sensation sliced through her inebriation as the two tangoed forward, all the while maintaining a copulatory gaze fest. Several sensations, all welcome as old friends reunited after a long journey…
Marley Winthrop watched in disbelief as Sue and Jake danced out
Outside, night air temporarily worked its magic and Sue hesitated. “Wait. I don’t know you.”
“Excellent!” A familiar voice rang out from behind. Art burst out of the building with two male models. “I see you two have met.” Art scolded Sue, “Your purse, darling. Never leave Prada behind.”
“Thanks,” Sue said.
“No bother. I’ve been trying to get you two together for months. Frankly, I wanted Jake for myself, but,” he made a dramatic shoulder shrug and winked at his companions, “life doesn’t always work that way. Later.” The three men walked away on their own journey.
Watch for Part 3 in January of 2010. Happy Holidays!
Sue spirals downward when a cupid straight from rehab steps in.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Entering the BlogoSphere with A Tale from Eve's Garden-Part 1
Hello out there!
Writers write. Right?
Always a multi-media hound, I’ve now entered the blogosphere. It’s a carnival of new ways to reach my readers. Even better, you can talk back to me. I hope you will subscribe to my blog and leave your comments.
Please visit my site for information about me and my books: http://nandarnold.com/books.html
Please visit my site for information about me and my books: http://nandarnold.com/books.html
Here goes…
Recently, I visited fabulous New York City
Most readers know me for my humor but I have an edgy side, too. I explore it here and in my upcoming release, Merry Acres Widows Waltz.
A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D.
Part 1
Sue Blu stared into the afternoon sun drooping low behind the trees in Central Park . Chewing an apple, she glanced at an old family crest on the nearby wall. Cracking a cynical smile, she reflected upon the origins of her name – actually Blum –so fitting in this blistering moment of clarity.
The unusual surname, of Anglo-Saxon origin, she had discovered –was an occupational name for a maker of blooms, an iron-worker, derived from the Olde English pre 7th Century "bloma" (Middle English "blome"), and meaning ingot of iron.
Yeah, events by choice or design hammered and molded me into an emotional work of iron.
Yeah, events by choice or design hammered and molded me into an emotional work of iron.
The half-eaten apple lost its appeal and Sue hurled it against the wall.
Two years earlier…
A self-styled Renaissance woman, Sue changed her name to Blu when she moved to New York City
Born of privilege and well educated for an aristocratic life, Sue had “been there and done that” ad nauseum, mentally referring to her trips around the world. Tired, bored, and considering current options, the answer literally rolled up in the long black hearse bearing her recently deceased, well-connected Grand Mumsy.
Thanks to Sue’s selfless dedication to her grand Mum in her last years while ignored by the rest of the family, Sue was rewarded by inheriting Gran’s smartly turned out luxury apartment on Central Park South. What glorious luck. Yes! My search is over. I’ll find what I’m looking for in the Gold District of the Big Apple. She set about the task of stamping her own signature onto the apartment. She mined Gran’s connections. Soon she met the right people and visited all the “see and be seen” spots, often the subject of online gossip. Sue was hot, hot, hot…for a while.
Eventually, the novelty wore off and Sue slipped into disillusionment, seeking solace in all the wrong places, and teetering on the edge of a personality disorder. Her New York City
Watch for more next week:
Lured into Fashion Week, blue eyes meet green and turn a socialite purple with rage.
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