Page 107 of Under Her Skin
If I kiss her it is a fact my lips will slide off hers and look every bit as red as hers are right now. Her boobs and ass are fake as hell too. But hey, I need a little arm candy and she’lldo.
The restaurant Rachelle is doing her internship at is a five-star thing of beauty. Not according to my date, Cleo, though. She says her name is Cleopatra. I have my doubts, but why wouldn’t a woman who has changed nearly every God-given thing about herself change her nametoo?
We sit down and order a couple of drinks and I watch Cleo scan the room. She leans in and whispers as she holds her Champagne cocktail in her long, slender hand with long, red, fake fingernails, “Not too fancy for five-stars. This drink is watered down and I’m not at all impressed. Is that Miley Cyrus? What adump!”
“A dump, huh? I don’t know, it looks pretty good to me. And I hear the food is excellent,” I say as I pick up the menu and look for something toeat.
Cleo sits back and sips her drink. “Order me something, stud. I hardly eat anyway. I have to maintain this figure after all.” Her skinny hand flows over her no curvebody.
“Yeah, that’s a thing of miracles,” I say as I think about how it’s a miracle she’salive.
Dark eyebrows arch up at me as she wags the half full glass at me. “Miracles? Now what you have going on is a miracle. But I’m sure you know that. What are the chances that after dinner you and I can play with each other for a little while? I bet I can make youscream!”
Oh! I know shewould!!!
Ismileand wag a finger at her. “Now, Cleo, behaveyourself.”
“Never!” she says and takes the rest of the drink down in one gulp. She snaps her fingers. “Garcon, anotherplease!”
The night creeps by as my fake date orders drink after drink and curls her nose up at the food placed in front of her. “This will never do! Who made thisslop?”
I nearly fall on the floor and have to take in a deep breath. “Cleo, I don’t think that’s a real goodidea.”
With a snap of her long fingers the waiter walks away. “I’ll get her,madam.”
Fuck me! He’s going to gether!
Cleo looksover at me and my plate of delicious chicken and snarls. “Don’t worry, lover. I’ll have the little imp who tortured your chicken fix that aswell.”
“Mine’s fantastic, please don’t bring my food up to her.” I see Rachelle in all black, her hair pulled into aponytail.
She walks up to Cleo without noticing me as Cleo stands up and turns to her. Cleo’s finger moves back and forth in Rachelle’s face before she can say a word, Cleo says, “So you think you know how to cook. Let me tell you that you do not! You have no business in that kitchen. The salad was bland, I took one bite and hated it. And how can you call that Salmon? That is Cod,bitch!”
Rachelle’s eyebrows go way up. “Mam, if you are indeed a mam, let me assure you that the fish on your plate is Salmon. It’s a pink color while Cod is white. But if you prefer, I will make you somethingelse.”
Cleo’s long arm moves, and she points to me. “And my man’s chicken israw.”
I most likely have a deer in the headlights expression on my face as Rachelle looks around Cleo and sees me. I smile and wave a little. Red covers her face and neck and what is showing of her arms. She looks back at Cleo. “Did you say yourman?”
“I did,” Cleo says as her head bobs around. “So, how do you suppose you can fixthis?”
“How could you?” Rachelle asks as she runsaway.
How couldI?
“What’s her problem?”Cleo asks. She sits down and I motion for the waiter to comeover.
“Sir?” heasks.
I whisper in his ear. “Have a cab take this woman home and I’ll give you a thousand dollars. I swear.” I place a hundred-dollar bill in his palm and he looks at it thengrins.
“Will do,sir.”
I give Cleo a smile. “Hey, I gotta go use the facilities.” I get up and she waves me away as she slurps down a lot morebooze.
Rachelle barrels, if you can call what a tiny, five foot two woman doing barreling, out of the ladies’ room. Once her red-rimmed eyes catch mine, she turns on her heel and goes right backinside.
I stop outside the door. It’s been two weeks since she tossed me out of her apartment. Two weeks since I’ve seen her face. Two weeks since I’ve tasted her sweetkiss.
