International Flavors Pt. 02

She gave me an interesting look. I couldn't quite place all of the emotions contained within it, but anger was one undeniable aspect of it and hatred was another. "Okay, I don't think I can drink any more of this coffee anyway. It tastes like shit; it's awful," she said, standing up and walking to the sink to dump out the remainder of the cup.

She rinsed it out and slammed it down on the counter, and began walking back toward our office alone. I followed her, watching her unbelievably tight ass encased in a pair of snug, silver metallic-colored slacks shimmy in front of me as if to lead me on like a puppy to his treat. And as I no longer had any right to claim it, I somehow understood that that was a treat that I would never again be sampling anyway, even if I wanted to, which I didn't.

When we were both back inside my office, I closed the door again. This time I locked it as well. The other people in the office could see us both through the windows and vertical blinds on two sides of the room, but at least now, they couldn't come in in the middle of our conversation – if you could call it that. I was going to sit down at my desk, but then I thought that would come off as too officious, so instead, I pulled one of the two chairs in front of my desk over to Luna's smaller desk, so we could sit face-to-face.

"Luna, I think it's only fair that I'm completely honest with you." I had intended to tell her everything about my phone conversation with Caitlynn, to explain to her who Caitlynn was, how dramatically our relationship had changed in the last 15 minutes, and how that change had affected what I had told her on Friday. I also wanted to explain how I realized that this weekend was a turning point for me, and how she had helped me to come to the realization that I needed a significant change in my life – how I was grateful to her for helping me understand myself. Every word of it would have been sincere.

But I never got the chance to say any of it. Never got a chance to even begin to tell her whereIwas coming from, because Luna had already decided that she was going to tell me whereshewas coming from – how as a spokesperson for females everywhere, what she and every other woman I had ever slept with thought about me, and how I was the consummate asshole for doing what I had been doing for over two years. I guess I deserved it.

"What do you mean, Jason? I thought you were completely honest with me on Thursday night. Don't you remember, how you weren't interested in moving on to ‘your next conquest?' What, you don't remember what you said? Well, I remember, but now after talking to Nicky and Carolina, and after having heard your phone conversation, I've come to realize that they're not really ‘conquests' are they, Jason? They're not conquests if you don't have to work for them or fight for them."

"So, that's your out, isn't it? That's the fine print that no one actually reads in the social contract with you, isn't it? You think if women throw themselves at you, then you have no responsibilities; am I right? So, I threw myself at you, and now, I'm not a ‘conquest' that you're so nobly trying to avoid conquering, and magically you're off the hook, at least in your demented mind!"

"You know you can't have it both ways, Jason! You can't act all high and mighty, act like you're being the fine, honest gentleman who loves and respects women, but then throws them over when the next one comes along. I don't care if you took two hours to fuck me or two minutes, you were still just fucking me, weren't you? Don't you dare act like we were ‘making love'! Why don't you just call things like they are, Jason? If you're going to treat me like your whore, then why don't you just call me your whore? Huh?"

"Luna, I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, but that's not fair! That's not fair – what you just said! I know I owe you an explanation, but I certainly wasn't trying to treat you the way you think I was. I'm sorry if you think that's the case, but it's not! It's not the case!"

"I don't need your ‘explanations,' Jason. I think you've explained quite enough! Shit... the cum's not dry on your sheets, and you've already moved on to the next one, haven't you?"

"No, I haven't! I'm not moving on! I'm going back. I'm trying to make something right that I should have realized all along was right in the first place! Luna, if I would have known last week that I was going to receive the phone call you just overheard, that I was going to have a chance with someone that I think might care for me as much as I care for her, I wouldn't have done what I did with you! I certainly never intended to hurt you! I don't want hurt anyone... ever!"

"Well, that's so sweet, but it's water under the bridge, now isn't it? It's all so convenient for you – all these things that happen that are beyond your meager control! I imagine that they all help you to sleep so peacefully at night – with your morality still intact! But the bottom line is you told me on Friday that you weren't in love with that woman, and now three days later, you're told her the exact opposite. So you're a liar, Jason! You're a liar!"

"Luna, please, I'm really sorry! I know I can't make it up to you! I know I can't fix what has already happened, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to and that I wouldn't if I could! I wish you would acknowledge that difference."

"Whatever! Jesus, what do I care about the difference? It's all the fucking same to me! Don't talk to me anymore – do you understand? Other than telling me what the fuck you want translated, don't speak to me. I'll get the work done as fast as I can, so I can get my ass out of this fucking office! The last person in this world that I want to see every day isyou!"

There was nothing more to say. The chasm between us was so wide that I didn't think it could ever be crossed. It was really too bad, because I liked Luna, and I didn't just like her because she had the most amazing body I've ever seen. That body was just a place where her soul resided, and I had to live with the guilt of having wounded that soul.

Now, I had the unenviable task of having to do the whole thing over again with Carolina and with Nicky. It was all over between me and both of them, but I felt like I still owed them an explanation and an apology. Considering Luna's reaction, I couldn't imagine how badly it might go with the other two, especially Nicky.

So I went back to my desk, and tried to get some work done, but I wasn't worth a damn for the rest of that day, and when Luna went home at 5:00 that afternoon, I called Carolina, and asked her if I could come to see her that night. If I thought things would go better with her than they had with Luna, I was sadly mistaken. At least she agreed to see me.

I arrived at her apartment with a good bottle of wine. I don't have asthma, but I've known a few people who do, and I saw how desperately some of them needed their asthma inhalers – "rescue inhalers" they called them.

Bottles of wine had become my rescue inhalers in my relationships with women – things I used to spare me pain and suffering, though, unlike a rescue inhaler, they were administered, not to myself, but to the women I was trying to placate. Whenever I perceived difficulty, I tried to smooth the waters with a nice bottle of Pinot Noir or Chardonnay. This night I chose a chilled bottle of a stainless steel-aged Chardonnay to try to work some magic.

I was shocked that Carolina had even agreed to meet with me, and then, when she saw that I had brought wine with me, was willing to share the bottle. But she agreed to let me to open it, and so after pouring us each a glass, I tried my best to be humble, contrite, and empathetic. I intended to tell her everything, including what had just happened with Caitlynn, with Luna, but I never got that far.

Everything seemed to start all right, maybe not great, but all right. "Carolina," I opened, "I feel like I owe you an apology."

"Ya think?" she said sarcastically, taking a big sip of wine.

"Look, I thought I was being honest with you, with everyone, but I realize now that I wasn't, that I was spreading myself far too thin by being with so many women, and that it wasn't fair to you or to any of the rest of them. I couldn't possibly offer you the amount of time, attention, and affection that you deserved. I realized now that everyone wants to feel special, even in a purely physical relationship."

I looked over at Carolina, and she was using her well-crafted body language to tell me what she thought of what I was saying. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, and her head was tilted downward as she stared over the top of her glasses, glasses she hardly ever wore. Their appearance on her face now was another means of non-verbal communication – she was telling me that she saw right through me. Without uncrossing her arms, she took another big drink of her wine.

Still, I continued. I didn't want her to hate me, and I knew that I had to continue to work with her – that I would see her every day – so I wanted to at least arrive at some semblance of détente. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and what I have come to understand about myself is that I don't want to continue having meaningless affairs. I need to settle down; to find someone that wants to have an exclusive relationship, and then, to try to fall in love again. That's all I really wanted, all I ever really wanted, and I suspect that is what most people really want."

She stared at me for the longest time, and then took a third big slug of wine, finishing her glass in the process. I couldn't believe she drank it that fast; she must have wanted to get drunk. "Jason, would you pour me another glass of wine, please?"

"Sure, I'd be happy to," I said smiling timidly. I thought that was a good sign, that maybe what I had said had at least helped her not to dislike me so much. I got up, went to her chair, and offered her a generous pour. That would prove to be a mistake.

"So, you're looking to fall in love, Jason? To find the right woman and fall in love?" She took another drink of her fresh glass, just a small sip this time. I sat back down.

"Yes," I didn't say anything more. I figured I would only be repeating myself if I did. I was just about to mention Caitlynn, but I needed to work my way up to that subject.

Then, Carolina stood up, carrying her wine glass delicately by the stem. She moved toward the chair I was sitting in and stood right in front of me. "This is really good wine, Jason," she said, looking down at me. I didn't like the looks of this, but....

"I'm glad you like it," I responded, trying to be gracious, but all the while sensing that something wasn't quite right.

Then she continued "So before deciding thatall you really wanted was love," she paused, and took another drink. I absolutely knew by the way that she had pronounced that last phrase – dripping as it was with sarcasm – that I was in real trouble, "you were just having ‘meaningless affairs,' huh? That was what you were having with me? With all of us? With Nicky? With her sisters? And now with Luna?"

I knew that I had made a big mistake by using that word, though quite honestly, I don't think there was any possibility that anything I would have said wouldn't have been a big mistake. I tried to explain myself.

"That was probably an indelicate w...." I never got a chance to finish my sentence, because just as the words were leaving my lips, Carolina tipped her glass upside down, and its entire contents poured unceremoniously onto my face, spilling down my shirt and soaking into my lap. She never said another word. I, on the other hand, jumped up out of my chair involuntarily and took a step passed her.

I had my own glass nearly to my lips when the cataract began its flow, and so some of her wine poured down my face and into my half full glass, which may have saved me a little dignity, though honestly not very much. The cold Chardonnay stung my eyes, so I wiped as much of it as I could from my face and onto my shirt. Then, I set my glass down on the end table next to the chair I'd been sitting in, and I walked toward the door. What else was there to say except exactly what I said? "I'm sorry, Carolina! I'm really, really sorry!"

I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, wine still dripping from my face and shirt. I reached the lobby and walked outside into the cool night air – which, considering my clothes were soaked in chilled wine and my relationship with my former lover had instantaneously frozen into a solid block of ice – felt absolutely frigid. And of the two apologies that I felt compelled to make, I had thoughtthiswas going to be the easier one!

I reassessed my plan to call Nicky to see if he she too would speak to me face to face, and decided that by now, she might very well already know what it seemed certain Carolina was going to share with her. I decided that this next apology might best be handled over the phone.

Though I suspected that Carolina might be calling Nicky at that very moment, I figured I might as well try to call her first in the hopes that our conversation could take place before she learned all about my shaming by Chardonnay. I figured that incident could only have inspired bigger and better plans for revenge from Nicky.

If anything went well that night, I guess it was the fact that I reached Nicky before Carolina did. I walked down the front steps of Carolina's building, and I despite the fact that my eyes were stinging like crazy, I found Nicky's number in my phone's contacts.

When I reached my parked car, I set my phone on the roof. Then, I found a half full bottle of water in my cup holder. I stood outside my driver's side door, and leaning over as far as could to avoid getting the rest of my clothes even wetter, I poured the remainder of the bottle over my face to wash the wine from my eyes. I let almost all of it run off my face, and then I found a clean napkin in the center console between my front seats and used it to dry my face as best I could. Then, I made the call. I was just climbing in the driver's seat when Nicky answered.

"Hola," she said in a friendly enough tone.

"Nicky, this is Jason. Please don't hang up on me! I don't want to take a lot of your time, but I just want to apologize to you. I feel really badly that I may have hurt you, and I just want to say that I am so, so sorry!"

"Jou arr sorry?" she asked in a flat, unemotional voice.

"Yes, very, very sorry. I'm pretty certain I hurt your feelings by wanting to be with other women and making you feel like you weren't important to me. Youwereimportant to me. You stillare, and though I never intended to hurt you, I know that I did. I apologize, Nicky." I paused, and when she didn't say anything, I continued. "I like you a lot, Nicky! You're the last person in this world that I want to hurt!"

"Joulikeme?" she responded with palpable anger, repeating the word I had just said with such vitriol that I'm not sure that I will ever use that verb again in quite the same way. "No," she paused, "jou likefaackingme! Jou like faackinganybaadywid a wet ‘ole – et no madder ooh. We all jast piezes of meat do jou!" The connection ended with an abrupt click.

It didn't matter. There was nothing left to say anyway. Four days ago I had three women that I cared for who wanted to share my bed with me. Now, I had none. That, in and of itself, was not the real problem, and might even have been a solution to a much bigger problem. If that had been the real problem, I could have lived with it.

No, the real issue was that I cared for these women. They meant something to me. I worked side by side with them, and each of them was a good, decent human being whose company and affection I desperately craved, for reasons completely unrelated to sex. I wanted to get along with everyone, appreciating human interaction as means to enrich my life, and now apparently my dick had destroyed any chance that I could have that kind of relationship with anyone I worked with, at least anyone who was female.

And now all my fuckups had made my reunion with Caitlynn that much more fraught with danger. Jesus, I thought to myself – just don't fuck this one up, too!

It was a rough three days at work. No one would talk to me, and sitting in that office alone with Luna was one of the most uncomfortable things I've ever had to do. The only person in the office that seemed to be having a good time was Lena, and it felt like she was delighting in my discomfort.

That was when I began to think that shehadhad something to do with my undoing, though there was little doubt that the real blame rested squarely onmyshoulders. Still, it surprised me. I thought that Lena had long ago moved on from me, and that any resentment she might harbor toward me was completely innocuous. Now, I didn't think so.

Finally, Wednesday afternoon rolled around, and a little after 4:00 p.m., I left my office without saying a word to Luna and set off up the Cabrillo Highway until I reached California 17, the Old Santa Cruz Highway, the road that cut through the Santa Cruz Mountains to San Jose.

It was a pretty drive, and it had the added benefit of calming me down a little. Once I hit Los Gatos, I had to deal with a little bit of rush hour traffic. Still, I arrived at the Westin in downtown San Jose just a little after 5:00. I let the valet park my car and went inside. I looked around and realized that Caitlynn hadn't yet arrived, so I sat down in one of the high-backed sectionals in the lobby to wait.

I had only been there for about five minutes when she came walking through the front doors. I was stunned when I saw her. Gone was her mane of soft, golden tresses. Her darker blonde hair was instead shorn so dramatically that my own conservatively styled hair was twice Caitlynn's length! It couldn't have been more than a half an inch long.

Very few women could have pulled off this look, but Caitlynn was so undeniably beautiful that instead of being shocked by the austerity of her hairstyle, anyone who saw her would only have been overwhelmed by her magnificent splendor. Without her flowing hair to distract my attention, I was immediately drawn to her face, and I was astonished that I could not remember how absolutely stunning she was. As I stood up to greet her, my own face must have given me away.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," she said, smiling brightly as she walked into my arms.

"I hope you can forgive me for saying this, Caitlynn, but I had forgotten how insanely beautiful you are!"

"I think I can forgivethat!" She said as she kissed my cheek. We stood there for at least a minute, just holding each other, Caitlyn with her arms wrapped about my neck, and I with mine encasing her slender waist. I broke the embrace first, grasping her face in both of my hands and kissed her ardently and unwaveringly on her plump, pink lips for another minute.

When I finally removed my lips from hers, I became aware that perhaps a dozen people were staring at us from various places in the large lobby. I'm fairly certain they weren't looking at me, but instead at Caitlynn, marveling, I guessed, at both her boundless beauty and the power of her passion. Even a blind person could have sensed the electricity she exuded.

"Well, good afternoon, Jason!" Caitlynn joked, and then added without sarcasm, "It's so good to see you!"

"Caitlynn, how in god's name did I ever let you get away?" I was still just incredibly dazed by the overwhelming power of her presence, so I added, "I must be the stupidest man that ever lived!" I stood back to admire her, removing my hands from her waist so that for the first time since we began hugging, there was no physical contact between us. She didn't say anything in response to my compliment, only smiled even more broadly.