Page 40 of Play of Love
I looked at her through the corner of my eyes and took my time to run my gaze over the full length of her body. I really liked what she was wearing today: a black business dress that did a serious job of showing off her very fine assets. Her delicate shoulders were defined in all the right places, but my favorite part was her breasts. Now when I looked I didn’t have to try to remember what they felt like.
I would have avoided the hard nudge she placed in my side if I hadn’t been so captivated by looking at her.
“Stop checking me out, youcreepyman,” she balked, driving straight through a red light.
“Damn it.”
She really hit hard for a girl, and it was commendable that I could feel it through the solid muscle on my abs.
“Yes, damn you, Josh. Stop it. I can actually see you. I’m not one of your strippers or groupies. I’m not one of them, so stop it!”
I infuriated her further by laughing.
“What’s so damn funny? You are such a pervert.”
“I am who I am, baby. It’s all that raw Italian blood running through my veins.”
“I don’t care if pig’s blood runs through you. Stop looking at me like that. Argh, you are so weird.”
Me? Weird? This was normal. Abnormal was a man who didn’t react in the presence of a beautiful woman. Granted, my sex drive was over the top, but still, I wasn’t weird.
She turned on the radio and switched it to the classical music channel. “Don’t you dare say anything about my music. I need calm right now if I’m going to continue to work with you.”
I wasn’t going to say anything about the music. In fact, it was ironic that she should say that as both Clarissa and I used to listen to classical music to get our calm before a big game and a big performance.
It was actually Clarissa’s thing. I’d just joined in on it because I agreed it was soothing. This piece that played right now on the radio was one of her favorites.
It was the “Thais Meditation” by Jules Massenet. It played in our home in San Francisco every day for as long as I could remember. This was a piece I could recall in my dreams and knew by heart, note by note of the powerful, spellbinding violin music.
I rested my head on the back of the seat and closed my eyes, listening as the music flowed through the car around the space of tension between Amy and I.
In my mind I saw Clarissa doing her pirouettes across the living room. I remembered when she started learning to dance. She was only five years old. Their mother was hosting a charity event and had gotten the Russian Ballet group to take part. Elena Mancini was always looking at new ideas and ways to raise interest to bring money in to whatever charity she represented. This would be one that would define Clarissa for the rest of her short life.
Tatiana Vodschova was the star of the show and she captured Clarissa’s heart with one step.
My sister became obsessed with dancing from that day onwards, and by the time she was ten she was already starring in a number of national shows. Just like me with football, ballet was her life. She was invited to go to Julliard without the need for audition. I didn’t know anyone else that had happened to. Not even me with my sports talent had had such an honor from scouts or anyone like that. I’d always had to do something to prove myself. When she finished at Julliard the number of dance companies that competed for her talent was astounding.
She was so happy, so very happy and beautiful in every way. And, because of me, she was no longer alive.
The cold, dead image of her face filled my mind and my heart broke all over again. All that life, talent, and beauty gone.
Just like that.
“Josh, wake up.” Amy was shaking my shoulder. We were back at my house and had parked in the driveway. I didn’t even realize that I’d fallen asleep. “Are you okay?” Concern softened her features, contrasting her prior anger.
A tear ran down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly, startled by its emergence.
Shit, I was crying in front of her. I turned away and got out of the car.
Hilda and another lady were waiting on the porch. They attempted to speak to me but I just stepped straight past.
I needed a drink, and I wanted to be alone.
* * *
Amy
* * *
