Valentine's Day

"I'm going to marry you, Raechel." The small blond boy whispered into her ear. "Someday when I am a big man and you are a big lady I am going to find you and marry you because you are the most beautiful girl in the world!"

Raechel sat up and rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes and smiled to herself dreamily. She had had that dream again, and every time she had that dream, something great happened to her. The last time she had gotten the job at the publishing house, and the time before that she had won twenty dollars from a scratch-off lottery ticket. Twenty dollars may not have been a lot, but it was when you were a poor college student that was a lot of money...or at least enough to buy a beer or two with. Raechel smoothed her hair down and looked around. She hopped out of bed and ran down the hall and showered quickly then she combed her hair and grabbed a suit out of her closet. She had a very important meeting with a writer who she just knew was destined to be great. She took one last look in the mirror and made sure that her makeup was on just right. Raechel smiled at herself and noted that she looked really very pretty today. She never wore foundation because it clogged her pores, but that was just fine because she had smooth skin the color of apple cider that was flawless and seemed to glow from the inside. Her dark eyes were almond-shaped and were almost Asian looking. Her nose was what her grandmother described as being cute as a button and her mouth was the most sensual part of her body. Secretly, she thought that her mouth was the best of all of her facial features, and that fact was not lost on others since it was always commented on. Her full lips were beautifully shaped and kissable. They were a deep brown that required only that she put lip gloss on them and she looked as if she had on a brown lipstick. Raechel flipped her natural hair over her shoulder and laughed to herself. Something was going to happen today and it was sure to be wonderful.

* * *

She arrived at the office just two minutes before she was supposed to be at her desk and she walked in humming a wordless tune. She smiled at Jerry, her cubicle neighbor and set the coffee cup that was in her hand on the desk.

"You're in a good mood," He grumbled.

"It's just going to be one of those days, I think. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I just have a feeling that something is going to turn out to be fabulously wonderfully unexpectedly nice today."

"I need some of what you're on," Jerry grinned at her. She was attractive, this officemate; her ass was amazing and she had curves you could drive a car on! Jerry chuckled to himself and thought for the thousandth time that if he were 30 years younger he would ask her out himself. But then he also knew that she didn't date co-workers because he had heard a few of the younger guys who had actually tried asking her out say so. It was a shame, really, she was such a nice girl. She really should have someone special in her life. A woman like this certainly didn't come along very often. He had been alive long enough to know that.

"I'm not on anything; just having a great morning is all." She glanced at the clock and took a quick sip from her cup. "Oops, I have to get out of here if I want to make it to that meeting on time." She grabbed her day planner and the manuscript that she had been reading—truthfully she had read it through three times already because she was half in love with the main character—and dashed out the door. She couldn't wait to finally meet Myles Foster. She wanted to meet the man who was able to bring such a moving piece of literature to life.

She walked into the coffeeshop that was just a few blocks from Herland and Heart, the firm where she worked, and looked around for someone who might look arty and author-like. The trouble was everyone looked like that so she went to the counter, ordered a cheese Danish and sat at a window that was right by the window and in a perfect sunny spot. She stretched a little and closed her eyes with her face turned toward the sun. The golden rays warmed her face and she smiled happily.

"Excuse me, are you Raechel Bexley?" A deep and musical voice said to her.

"Um?" she turned her head slowly and opened her eyes then her mouth dropped open. She would know him anywhere! He was the one from the dream only he was twenty-five years older and definitely a man now. "It's—It's you!" she said slowly.

"Pardon me?" The tall blond man was greatly confused.

"I'm sorry—god, I just made an ass of myself! Yes, I am Raechel. You must be Myles Foster." She put out her hand and shook his firmly. "Please, have a seat," she motioned to the seat across from her with the other hand.

She stared at him for a second and let his hand go; he took the seat and smiled. "I was wondering how I would figure out who you were."

"How did you figure that out?" She asked curiously. She liked his smile and there was something about those blue-green eyes that gave her goose bumps and made her nipples hard. He was really hot!

"I went around asking every woman in here if she was you until I found you."

"Ah, very efficient," She laughed. She pushed her wildly curly hair out of her face and brought the manuscript out of her leather bag.

"Do you want a coffee or something before we get started?" He was eyeing her uneaten Danish with interest.

"No, but if you would like something, I would love to treat you, actually, Herland and Heart are treating," she gave him a naughty wink and he grinned. "What would you like?"

Myles watched her get up from the table and her nearly fell off his seat when he watched her glide up to the counter and grab his black coffee and muffin. He couldn't help thinking that he had seen her before, but just where he couldn't put his finger on it yet, but it would come to him later, it always did. She placed his food in front of him and then sat in her seat and gazed at him.

"So, Mr. Foster, I really think that you have a great future as a writer with our team."

"Do you really think it's good?" He wondered. "I don't want to sound like a cocky writer but I have other stories that are way better. This story just happens to be one that I could end." He laughed and his eyes twinkled merrily.

"If this isn't your good work, I would love to see your others. This story was phenomenal and poignant and beautiful. I could really identify with Sharon and her heartbreak when Peter died. How in the world do you understand women so well, Myles Foster, especially a black woman character?"

Myles blinked at her and looked thoughtful. He had never thought of this. Sharon had just seemed so real to him when he was writing the story that her emotions seemed to just write themselves. "To tell you the truth, I never really thought about it. She just was the way she was."

The puzzled look on her face mad him chuckle. "If a character seems real, they just kind of write themselves, you know?" Her genuine smile made him catch his breath.

"Do your characters seem to live and breathe to you too?" she sighed.

"Too?" he asked as his eyebrows shot up. He saw her face flush and she looked down at her shoes.

"Yeah," she said clearing her throat. "I would like to be an author too."

"Really?" he stroked his cheek pensively. "I would like to see your work sometime."

"Oh no, we aren't here to talk about me and my work, we are here to talk about you."

"I think this is the first time a woman has ever said that to me," he laughed.

"We should get to work," Raechel smiled.

"Only if you promise to have dinner with me," Myles said as he leaned over the small table.

"I'm sorry, but I can't," Raechel stammered. "It wouldn't be right."

"I suppose you have a fantastically handsome man waiting at home for you?"

"Only my cats, Batman and Robin," She laughed. Why in the world was she telling him this?

"There is no Mr. Bexley waiting at home for you?" His fingers tingled from wanting to touch her. She was unbelievably beautiful. He wondered ridiculously if her hair was as soft to touch as it looked. And then he wondered if she was a good kisser. Her mouth was sensuous and when she bit her bottom lip like that it made him want to scoop her into his arms and kiss her passionately.

"Mr. Foster, I don't really think that is an appropriate question."

"No, but I really want to know," He said wickedly.

She looked at him for a few seconds and then shook her head. "Now can we get back to work?"

"Will you go out with me?" His eyes held hers.

"I have this little rule about dating coworkers," she started.

"Done! I'll take my book somewhere else."

"No!" she shrieked. "I mean, that won't be necessary. Herland and Heart would hate to lose you, we think you are a fantastic writer and we want to get your name out there. We want to publish you."

"Come out with me, just one evening, and we can talk then." Myles insisted. "I would hate to lose you."

Raechel's heart pounded a mile a minute. "I don't know, Mr. Foster, I could get fired for this."

"I won't tell if you won't."

"What the hell?" she said suddenly with a shrug. "You set everything up and tell me where to meet you and I'll be there." She stood up and brushed a few crumbs from her skirt. She reached into her bag and handed him a rather dog eared business card then put the bag on her shoulder. "Sorry, it's my last one," she said with a little smile. "I had to unload it on someone!"

He turned and watched her walk out of the shop with a tinkling laugh and he sat there until her spicy perfume finally faded away.

* * *

"Raechel Bexley," She answered the phone at her desk a little breathily, she had just walked through the door and heard the phone ring.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" the caller asked. It had to be Myles Foster.

"Excuse me?" she asked as she dropped her things on the desk. She sat down in her chair and turned away from Jerry and his inquisitive eyes.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" the caller asked impatiently. "Because I have met the most wonderful woman in the world and after a lot of cajoling she has finally agreed to go out with me."

"Oh, it's you, Myles," she said loudly enough that Jerry could here, she saw his shadow move back to his own desk and knew that he wasn't listening anymore. If he thought this was a personal call he would have held on to every word.

"Prying ears, eh?" Myles laughed.

"Something like that."

"Look, if you're not busy tonight, I would like to take you to a fantastic place that not too many people know about."

"I suppose this is the part when you invite me over to your house for dinner?" she murmured.

"How did you know?" he groaned.

"It was in your book," she said while she moved her papers around and searched for a pen. She had every intention of going to his place for dinner; she had to find out if he was the boy she had met so many years ago.

"Well, then I guess you know what comes next."

"I ask you what time and where should I meet you, right?"

"Yeah, something like that."

She jotted down his address and phone number just in case she got lost, but she was pretty certain that she could find it with no problem. She had lived here all life after all. "Tonight at seven o'clock? I'll see you then. Should I bring anything?"

"Just yourself." Myles answered. He was giddy thinking about her.

"See you later. Hey, Myles, what does one wear to Chez Vous?"

"Something a little dressy that one wouldn't mind getting paint on." He said quickly and then he hung up. Raechel stared at the phone in her hand and finally placed it on the cradle when the dial tone grew too loud. She was certain he was the guy, and she felt as if she would float right out of her chair. Love at first sight? This was more like second sight, but she didn't care, she somehow just knew that Myles was the one. They would get married just like he had said when they were five years old. What a lucky day it had turned out to be after all.

To be continued...