Free Tastes Like Chocolate: A Red Hot Valentine Story by Graylin Rane Page B

quiet as I lowered the gate,
locking up for the night. Mrs. Gonzalez across the way waved,
blowing kisses. She’d taken me into her family when I’d moved a
thousand miles from my own. She tried to teach me how to cook Cuban
food. I didn’t think I could do worse than I did with Middle
American fare. I was wrong. She politely banned me from the
kitchen. The next day, she stopped by and ordered three Mother and
Child statues for her sisters still in Cuba. I used colored clay to
make sure no paint would ever flake off. Angie’s sister owns a
ceramic shop and fired them for her.
    We’d been close ever since. She introduced
me to Cuban coffee. Two cups of that and I could work for twelve
hours. I was addicted, happily. The solid wooden stairs creaked a
little I as went up to bed. The shower heated up the chocolate
streaks on my arms and hands. It felt like bathing in a cocoa
mist.
    I was white, winter freaking white. The kind
of white skin that gets sunburned sitting next to a window.
Everything looked good. No new bruises from bumping into things,
which happens often. Hopping into my satin pajamas, I turned on the
evening news to see if I’d missed anything.
    My cell phone, always on mute, buzzed around
on the bedside table. Angie.
    “ This better be good, I’m
thinking of going running on the beach so I can look as tiny as the
meteorologist.”
    “ Shut up. Those women
don’t get cake. Pity them, don’t fear them.” She
laughed.
    I wondered if other places had entire news
teams hotter than lingerie models. “What’s up?”
    She got quiet for a few moments. “George
wants you to come over for Valentine’s Day.”
    “ So I can be the odd woman
out? No thanks.”
    “ He has a
friend.”
    Oh shit. “No, Angie. Not going to happen. Uh
uh. No how.” I sputtered. How could she even call with this request
and not eviscerate him for the suggestion?
    “ Vivi, don’t lose your
shit. He means well. You know he thinks of you as his baby sister.
He wouldn’t set you up with anyone he didn’t approve
of.”
    “ Making sure he can kick
their ass if they screw up?”
    “ Well, yeah. He is small
enough for George to take him. Kids, quiet. I’m talking to Aunt
Vivi.”
    I heard the kids in the background, all four
of them younger than six, with the twins’ third birthday coming up
soon. In unison, they cried, “Hello, Aunt Vivi!”
    I loved those kids. There were days after
the breakup when I took them to the beach. Sitting in the waves
with toddlers and one five-year-old going on forty, digging holes,
made me feel better.
    “ Angie, I’m not sure I’m
ready to meet anyone right now.”
    “ Vivi, at some point you
need to get out there again. Our kids need to grow up
together.”
    No pressure, Angie. “Don’t push.” I didn’t
push back much. This time, I needed to. Reminding me I was five
years behind on kid production didn’t help anything, even if she
meant well.
    “ Okay, I’ll explain it to
George.”
    I hung up the phone feeling worse. Making
art, I excelled at. Men, as I’d repeatedly proven, weren’t in my
skill set. Mindless reality television took me away while I yelled
back at the idiocy on screen. Rolling over to turn off the lights,
the clock said it was midnight. In eight hours, I’d be back
downstairs with my Adonis.

Chapter Two
     
     
    The alarm sounded muffled. Why was it
ringing in the forest? I pulled another arrow from my quiver.
Pulling it tight, I aimed, hitting the target in the center. The
crowd roared. Even the Prince smiled at me. He was tall, blond,
built, and looking at me, short, slightly clumsy, me. The King
sneered at him. Just as he was going to tell his father where to
stick convention and ask for my hand, the ringing started,
again.
    Dammit. I rolled over reaching for the
alarm. I didn’t want to move so much that I lost the dream.
Swinging for the snooze bar, I missed landing on the floor.
    “ Well, not the best way to
wake up.” I ran a mental check of my body.