Chapter 7 Part 2
***

Dylan scoured over his pool table trying to line up his shot. Darn it if that Khrystine Morgan wasn’t ruining his pool game. Thoughts of her were ruining the angles that he normally saw when he went for any ball. He tried to make a bank shot, which didn’t go into the hole he’d predicted.

He cursed under his breath and stood resting the cue under his chin.

It served him right that the only woman he was not remotely interested in using, was not interested in him. Why did he have the nerve to think, when he’d been so careless with numerous hearts, that the one time his heart was truly captured, the object of his affections would not be careless with his own heart. Life was full of cruel ironies, and this was one.

She wasn’t nearly interested in him as he was interested in her. He comforted her, had cared deeply about her loss, tried to make her feel better, only to be brushed off at the end of their date.

For the first time he found himself feeling empathetic towards a woman, maybe she was scared because she’d love once and lost and it hurt her still to this day. And then too, if he was a woman, he would probably be wary of a person with a press rap like he had. There were the stories, stupid quotes that he said that he regretted.

Stuff like…

“No woman can leave her toothbrush where I stay,”

“My heart only belongs to Budweiser”.

If she was really a Flat fan, as she said she was, she’d heard the stories. Why she accused him of having a harem in the car. It wasn’t a harem, more like an ill timed indiscrete series of affairs, but they didn’t mean anything to him. This time, for the first time in his life, what he felt was real.

Sure he was attracted to Khrystine, but he wasn’t scheming and plotting like he did with other girls. His end objective was not how to notch a new conquest. Thoughts instead revolved around a genuine interest in her.

Before, he’d make excuses to have physical contact with women, and see how far he could push the boundaries. With Khrystine, he genuinely attempted not to offend her in anyway, and at times, his own desire for her caused guilt ridden feelings.

He felt like a beast when she cried in his arms, and he felt desire for her surge up in his loins. She was a human being that needed comfort and care and he was giving into his own selfish fantasies.

What was she doing to him? These were not concerns that he normally harbored. Wanting to have more than temporary gratification with a woman was not something that ever crossed his mind. It felt strange, wonderful and strange to be near her.

He hadn’t meant to get so angry at her, blow up at her because she didn’t want to play backyard baseball with him, but she’d hurt his feelings. He was so touched by her revelation of liking something trivial that defied his characterization of her. And he was so enamored with the prospect of spending even more time with her that he grew angry when it appeared that his feelings weren’t being reciprocated.

He couldn’t think about the pool game anymore, so he put down the cue. He picked up his cherry red acoustic guitar, sitting on the guitar stand beside his sofa. He sat down, put his feet up on the coffee table, plucking a simple melody.

It sounded to him like what he was feeling right now, a slow, bluesy pulsating number. It had strains of sexiness and equal measure of sorrow.

I can’t make her come to me no more….
So elusive she just slips right out my door.

I look her way for a chance…
She won’t give me a second chance…

Cupid is a cruel boss…
He laughs at my loss…

Played so many bluff hands with fate…
That the one I desire won’t give me a chance to clear the slate…


It was not at all like what he usually wrote. He didn’t usually write introspective songs about romance. His songs were all about what the hardworking American Male could relate to, the need to be heard, the need to party, the need to be respected as a man, the need for fast women, and fast cars.

Whatever this was, it was the single most beautiful thing he’d ever written, and it took ten minutes, and the image of an ever-illusive Khrystine soaking up the backdrop of his mind.

Perhaps he should call her, maybe tomorrow. Maybe he was moving things to fast. He didn’t even know what too fast was, because he’d never had a real relationship with a woman. All he ever knew sadly enough was groupies.

She was definitely atypical of anyone he’d ever imagined himself literally feeling compelled to know. Sophisticated, came from a cultured upbringing, and she was black. But he found himself unable to resist her charms, that beautiful smile, songbird giggle, and what appeared to be a fragile and delicate heart, for all her attestations otherwise.

He wished that he’d taken the time to discover a woman and her inner beauty well before he was twenty-three years old. Dylan felt shallow and ashamed. Maybe he was scaring Khrystine because his desire to get to know her was so intense.

***
Khrystine and Monique arrived at club Indigo. Khrystine was wearing an Indigo Blue mini dress, matching wrap and high-heeled shoes. Monique thought her choice of indigo clothing for the Indigo club was a riot, and touted that she was the only appropriately dressed person in the place. With it’s indigo blue and gold décor, dimly lit atmosphere, and breataking view of LA, Khrystine could clearly see why this was the “hangout to the stars”.

While she'd been excited about going when Mike called her, now she felt downhearted. Dylan was scaring her with his overly familiar affection toward her, but she still liked him. He made it clear though that she could not be indecisive. It had been so long since she thought about what she wanted in the love department, that she couldn't answer her inner longings anymore. What she'd wanted was Lance.

"What's wrong with you girl?" asked Monique.

Kristine was perched a bar stool, staring mindlessly into the strobe lights sipping her diet coke through a straw.

"Nothing, why's something gotta be wrong?" she asked arching her eyebrow.

"Well you've been moody since all day. They are playing music and you aren't even dancing. You love to dance," she added.

Khrystine knew the real reason she was sour was the failed afternoon with Dylan, but she didn't want Monique to know. Monique was overprotective of her feelings because she cared, and she knew that her friend would scold her for being friendly with notorious playboy Dylan. The way Monique loathed JaQuon, she knew that any mention of Dylan would give her a heart attack. She hadn't mentioned their subsequent meetings at the party, the phone calls, or today's date.

"I don't know. I thought I'd be into this tonight, but I'm not in it," said Khrystine softly.

"Well you gotta get into it honey. Mike's gonna be mad if he doesn't see you in the papers tomorrow because you are being a wallflower," she added rubbing and patting Khrystine's sholder.

"I know, I know, let me order another diet coke and then we'll get out there," said Khrystine.

"As pretty as you are outside, your insides are gonna be rotten. Khrystine, your veins run diet coke," laughed Monique.

"I know," said Khrystine, suddenly turning around.

Monique had whipped her head around and feeling a shadow looming over her shoulder, Khrystine did the same.

"Hello, Ms. Morgan," said the deep voiced male.

She'd recognize that voice anywhere.

It was Derek Thompson, dramatic actor extraordinaire, who'd made a big splash the previous year as one of the only African-American male actor nominees for the prestigious Academy Awards.

"Mr. Thompson, Derek Thompson," said Khrystine smiling.

He was even more gorgeous in person, smooth ebony skin, pearly white teeth, cocoa brown eyes, immaculately shaven goatee, his slender but well defined frame filling out his tastefully appointed black Armani suit.

"Yeah, its me. Mr. Secret Agent Investigator. Listen. Love your song, and your video. My the camera doesn't lie. You are even more gorgeous in person," said Derek.

"Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself, very nice in fact," said Khrystine.

"Would you care to dance," asked Derek.
Khrystine had seen Derek in most of his major motion pictures, and a few weeks ago, she would have been beside herself at his request, and given an emphatic yes. Right now, she felt depressed, not much like dancing with anyone. She should be dancing with Dylan Taylor, who seemed to be trying to reveal his heart to her. She shook her head as though trying to dump the thought from her head.

"No?" he asked.

"Maybe some other time. It's not you. I'm just not feeling so well right now," she added softly.

"Okay. You're shy maybe. Look here's my number, call when you feel better," he added extending a card to her.

When he was out of earshot, Monique turned to her.

"I know you have absolutely lost your mind for real now!" said Monique.

"why?' asked Khrystine.

"That was Derek. The Derek. I’m not usually star struck but that was Derek. He asked you to dance. Khrystine, we've thought he was gorgeous, oh since were were twelve, and you told him no? Why? He seems to be such a nice guy. You never hear anything about him in the tabloids, never hear a bad talk of him anywhere. That might have been a love connection," sighed Monique.

"You wanna dance with him instead? I'll call him back over here. I don't feel like dancing. I should have asked him if he'd like to dance with you," added Khrystine.

"No, you shouldn't have, he wanted to dance with you, and you should have let him. You've been talking about being a little lonely. There was a good chance for Mr. Right, you'll never know if you don't get out there,' added Monique.

"Yeah, I know, but I changed my mind about Mr. Right. I don't think I'm ready for that. I don't even know who he is right now. I had Mr. Right, he's gone now, and I don't wanna slow down my career in my pursuit of him," she said softly.

"This is about lance isn't it. You should have said something sooner. Do you wanna go home? I'll get Mike to take you home. I can spend the night if you need me too. Khrystine you've gotta get over him sometime, it's been five years. Sometime soon you've gotta take the leap from flirting with cute guys for fun, to recognizing genuinely expressed interest from a sincere man and returning it," added Monique.

“I know, I know. There’s a lot that I don’t wanna talk about right now though Monique. Let’s just mingle,” she added softly.

She was inching her way through the crowd, when she saw Derek commandeered in the corner with her manager Mike. Half wondering what the conversation was about she inched closer, but then Mike saw her, anxiously waving her over.

“Khrystine,” he called.

“Yeah,” said Khrystine.

“My good friend Derek says he asked you to dance and you declined, said you must be shy, and I said not Khrystine,” said Mike.

“Yeah he told on you,” teased Derek softly.

“She’s a lady though, so maybe she wanted to be properly introduced. I’ve known Derek for a long time, when he first came to town, before he was Mr. Secret Agent, he came to me for guidance and I helped him find a more appropriate manager in the world of acting. We have a long history,” added Mike.

“Well that’s nice to know. Michael is very talented at what he does with me, so I’m sure he would have handled your career nicely were he in your field,” said Khrystine.

“She’s charming,” said Derek softly.

“Oh clearly. She’s a total package, singer, dancer, she’s marketable, and she might one day costar in a movie with you,” laughed Michael.

“I surely wouldn’t mind that, if she’s anything like her MTV presence she’d do lovely,” said Derek to Mike.

Khrystine hated when men were talking and referred to her in the third person, as though she couldn’t be party to the conversation.


“Photo-op,” said Mike, ushering Khrystine and Derek together.

Khrystine was taken by surprise as the paparazzi appeared from out the woodwork, and Derek put his arm around her grinning. By now, Khrystine had been primed for impromptu shots for a while, so she stood next to him grinning.

After the press took their shots, Khrystine talked a little more with Derek so as not to appear rude, and then excused herself to find Monique in the crowd.


- posted by Mahogany @ 4:01 PM