Marie Adeline - Secret Shared

With that, he turned fierce, and our bodies began pulsing harder on the chair. I grabbed the back to gain leverage.

“Oh god.”

“Can you feel how hard I am, Dauphine, how hard you make me?” he groaned, pumping up into me, holding me down to increase the friction of his pelvis against my clit.

“Yes! Oh yes. There,” I murmured, but he knew. He didn’t need my instructions.

I felt the heat building behind my belly button again, and again I came, falling forward as he turned the room into a blur, gripping my hips to take his own pleasure with a fierce resignation that came just after mine. He shuddered to a blissful stop, panting, my torso draping over him.

“That was incredible,” he said, breathless too, running his fingers across my back as it rose and fell. I opened my eyes to the windows again, clusters of lights below signaling sleepy towns full of people with no idea what was happening in the darkening clouds above their heads. And I was okay and the plane was okay and we were so alive.

“Better get you dressed, my darling. I’m afraid we went a little over schedule.”

He carefully lifted me off him and bent to hand me my sweater. As he stood to pull up his uniform pants and tuck and button his own shirt, I stepped into my panties and pulled my skirt up, finger-combing my hair back into its ponytail. We exchanged grins, each of us kind of proud of the other.

By the time Eileen knocked a few minutes later, the only thing that might have given us away, had Captain Nathan not snatched it from the floor and placed it under the plastic cap of an empty Styrofoam cup, was the condom. Then he reached around me for the handle to the cockpit door and pulled it open. I gave Eileen my widest, most guileless smile, my arms behind my back, my bracelet scratching the plastic wall.

“How is your visit going? A lot less stressed about flying, I hope?”

“Very much so,” I said. “Captain Nathan has taken the fear right out of me.”

“He does that well,” she said, with no hint of lasciviousness. “Let’s get you back to your seat, Dauphine. It’s rather warm in here. Here’s your Gatorade, Captain. We don’t want you dehydrated.”

She took me by the arm.

“Thank you, Captain,” I said. “Flying will never be the same for me.”

“I’m glad I could be of some help. Oh! Before you go, Dauphine,” he said, reaching into his shirt pocket, “we like to give visitors a little something. For trusting us. You’ve earned this.”

He handed me a small blue box.

“Dauphine gets her wings!” exclaimed Eileen with a little clap.

“Thank you,” I said, as Captain Nathan stood and gave me a deep bow.

By then, First Officer Friar had returned. “It was good of you to keep the captain company,” he said, squeezing past us. “It’s lonely up here sometimes.”

Eileen led me back to my seat. Was I imagining First Class eyes on me, noting my slight dishevelment, the flush in my cheeks?

Once seated and buckled up, I discreetly lifted the lid to the small blue box. Inside was a brooch shaped like wings, the airline’s logo in its center. Under the cotton puff, another gold-hued ornament, my Step Three charm, Trust written on the back. I pinned the wings to my sweater. The elderly woman seated across from me gave me a thumbs-up. What she made of the charm I then secured to my bracelet, I’ll never know. But after it was firmly in place, I pushed my seat back, slid my earphones on, closed my eyes and floated in a dream for the rest of the blessedly uneventful flight.

IT WAS ONLY a matter of time before Mark Drury made his way to the Café Rose for Sunday brunch, a newspaper tucked under his arm, a sheepish grin on his face. He didn’t have my number and I hadn’t called him since our one-night stand almost two weeks ago.

“Hello, Cassie,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Very fancy,” I said, “and very early. One o’clock in the afternoon. Did you have to set your alarm?”

“Funny.”

I brought over a menu, flipped his coffee cup and filled it to the brim.

“I’ll be right back to take your order.”

“I’m in no hurry. Unlike you,” he said, snapping open his paper. He was referring to the morning after, when I had left his place rather quickly. The last time I saw him he was tangled in mismatched sheets, softly snoring.

I rolled my eyes at him and headed to the kitchen.

When I returned, he ordered scrambled eggs, Boudin sausage and toast, which he ate in a matter of minutes. When I removed his empty plates, he ordered a large house salad.

“For digestion. Like the Italians,” he said.

After his salad he asked about the soup special.

“It was curried cauliflower, but we’re all out,” I said, just as Dell walked by with a platter of eggs Benedict.

“I’ll thaw some of that minestrone. Won’t take a minute,” she offered.

“Sounds perfect,” he replied.

“You’re mighty hungry today, Mr. Drury.”

“I’ve got a gig tonight. Always makes me hungry. Why don’t you come see us? We’re at the Spotted Cat.”

He pulled a flyer out of his pocket and handed it to me just as Will, covered in white dust from head to toe, rounded the corner and headed upstairs. I wasn’t sure he caught the tail end of our exchange, so I raised my voice.

“I will do my best to be there tonight, Mark. Thank you for the invitation!”

“Great!” Mark replied, confused by my sudden enthusiasm. “I should probably go now.”

“No soup?”

“Just the bill. I gotta clean up my place in case I have guests after my gig.”

“That’s unlikely,” I said, a little more quietly this time.

“We’ll see about that.”

When he looked at me, all the arrogance of his youth seemed to melt away and for a second he was just a young man who wanted to spend some time with me. And yet … and yet … all I craved was a nice long run followed by a cuddle with my cat, my couch and the remote.

I cashed out Mark’s bill, for which he left me a too-hefty tip. Then I headed upstairs to tell Will I was leaving for the night. I hadn’t been in the new space in a week and the transformation was astonishing. From a dim, dingy storeroom with fading wallpaper and dusty floors, Will had created an airy modern dining room, with new casement windows facing the street, exposed brick on two of the walls, the floors stripped and oiled to perfection. He was painting the men’s washroom at the top of the stairs next to the new skylights. I poked my head in to helpfully turn on the light, causing both of us to squint in the brightness.

“Whoa, I didn’t notice the light was fading. What time is it?”

“Time for me to go home. Just letting you know Dell’s on her own until Tracina gets here.”

“Busy day?”

It bothered me that his voice could still freeze me in my tracks. It had been almost five full months since …

“Not bad.”

It was also hard not to notice how his upper body was becoming more defined by all the manual labor, especially his forearms. He had bits of paint and plaster in his hair that I desperately wanted to pluck out.

“Plans tonight?” he continued, as I backed out of the washroom to check out the rest of the renos.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I have plans.”

“With that skinny boy who was just here?”

“Maybe.” I said. “I cannot tell you how beautiful it looks up here. I am beyond impressed.”

“Are you guys dating?”

“Um … he’s just a friend, Will,” I said, refusing to go there, but quietly pleased he wanted to.

The main dining area took my breath away, the smoked-glass wall sconces, the refurbished metal light pendants that hung over the bar area. I could picture how beautiful it would look furnished and bustling, full of shiny, sexy diners falling in love over candlelight. That’s when I saw something weird poking out from behind the new walnut bar—a brand-new twin mattress wedged between the wall and the fridge, a coverless duvet thrown on top.

Will came stumbling into the room, rubbing his hands on his jeans. I turned from the mattress to him.

“Oh,” he said, looking from me to the mattress. “I’ve been sleeping here a few nights. Tracina, with the pregnancy … I mean, if I’m not keeping her up, she’s keeping me up. And we both need our rest. When the baby comes, everything will be easier.”

“That’s kind of the opposite of what I hear about babies,” I said. I desperately wanted to change the subject, so I did.

“It’s so beautiful, Will, I mean it,” I said. “Your work … you should be very proud. This’ll be one of the nicest restaurants on Frenchmen.”

“I want to have a really interesting wine list, you know? Bring some in from atypical places, like Uruguay and Texas. They have great vineyards in Hill Country.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You will. Soon enough.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you’ll have to brush up on your wine knowledge, because you’re going to manage this place for me. I want you to run it,” Will said. “Your hours will change. You’d be here afternoons into the dinner rush. You’ll have to wear nicer clothes. I mean, not black satin gowns, but not black T-shirts either. I’ll pay you more. I’ll pay you well.”

The whole time he spoke, I stood there watching his mouth move. Being near him, working with him, seeing him every day—I wanted that. Watching him with Tracina and the baby, feeling the ongoing pain of being on the outside looking in on his family life, I didn’t want that.

“I can’t think of anyone else but you for the job,” he added, taking a step closer to me.