I have a story published in this month's eFiction Magazine, just click the image to the right. In this edition you will notice a story by a new author, Alissa Berger. Alissa is a close friend and a very talented writer, and this is her first time being published. But I promise you will be hearing a lot more from her! Enjoy the mag. In the mean time, below is a romance story from a couple of years ago that appeared in Romance Magazine.
Also, be sure to click over to my poetry blog for a new post! The link is to the right.
Peace,
BJ
Rain
BJ
Neblett
©
2013
Joraleah’s life ebbed and flowed
like the waters that surrounded her and marked her existence. It came in waves
of feats and failures; troubles and triumphs; confrontation and consolation. And,
like those same waters that could rage in violence or settle in serenity, Joraleah
had learned to rise to the challenges and recognize the consequences.
These traits developed in no small
measure as the result of a cruel joke of genetics. Being an only child – an
anomaly in the fertile Johnston clan – made Joraleah uncomfortable. Growing up
she felt more a curiosity, an outsider to countless cousins and assorted aunts
and uncles. The proverbial square peg in an ever expanding round hole, Joraleah
was looked upon by most as an out of place piece of furniture; the strange
object d’ art; the enigmatic bibelot, wrapped in a tattered apron by Great,
Great Granny Gianna, and clutched tightly to her bosom as the family escaped
some historically insignificant rebellion.
But Joraleah – always Joraleah,
never Leah or Jory or J – sprang from a close, loving family. Born of strong
middle class heritage, the Johnston family called white collar suburban Philadelphia
home. Johnston family tree roots ran deep reaching down to a proud, curious mix
of Eastern European old countries including Romania. Mysterious Great Aunt
Althea claimed the lineage actually sprang from Transylvania, with the family
name being bastardized from its original Jahnstein. While this curious bit of
ancestry, intriguing as it may be, had never been satisfactory proven, to
Joraleah the inherited gypsy spirit brought with it an unspoken inner sense of
confidence.
Always remaining true to her nature,
Joraleah grew to be at once as gentle and refreshing as the name she carried,
and as formidable as a wind tossed sea. Her eighth Christmas witnessed an obscene
onslaught of games, toys and clothes. Everything Joraleah could want but the
one thing she desired the most, an unimposing Beanie Baby. That winter a
determined Joraleah traded her Saturday skating lessons in favor of a snow shovel.
Tirelessly clearing blanketed sidewalks and driveways, she soon earned enough
money to purchase the coveted Beanie Baby, a tall unassuming blonde fellow with
a cute heart shaped mole on his left temple.
On her thirteenth birthday Joraleah
wished to see Disney World. Disappointed but without complaint, she settled for
a pair of mouse ears bestowed upon her by one of a dozen costumed characters
hired to entertain guests at a rented Chuck-E-Cheese. Concentrating on her
English classes, a year later Joraleah entered an essay contest, easily winning
and securing a family vacation to the popular Florida attraction.
In high school, Joraleah received an
overwhelming number of write-in votes for the mundane position of treasurer.
Undeterred, by senior year she had parlayed her acumen for saving and investing
into the office of class president.
And so the quiet teen grew into a strong,
self-sufficient young woman, confidently regarding her life as a chrysalis in an
ever evolving cocoon. Whenever life presented seemingly insurmountable
obstacles, Joraleah found solace in a sudden spring shower and comfort in the
refreshing autumn rain. Yet if there was one area of Joraleah’s life which was lacking,
it was romance. Plain of features and shy by nature, Joraleah carried an inner
beauty that shone with an intriguing and captivating aura to anyone taking the
time to notice. The ones who bothered found her to be a trusted and valued
friend, and Joraleah treasured the few close relationships she developed. And an
indomitable inner spirit repeatedly reassured her that love lay just around the
next corner.
Longing to escape the well meaning
but stifling judgments of family, after graduating from Drexel University,
Joraleah discovered the welcoming liquid intimacy of life in the Pacific
Northwest. Now approaching thirty, Joraleah was comfortably and happily hidden away
from the always questioning, always critical, usually annoying world around
her. She worked ten hours a day in a non-descript cubical, in a non-descript
library, in a non-descript small college town as a senior research assistant. But
Joraleah’s days continued to flow like the life giving fluid that surrounded
and defined her existence.
And
that was just the way Joraleah liked it.
“Here ya go, Lady J.” The student
intern dropped a large stack of dusty file folders on Joraleah’s cramped,
cluttered desk, “These need to be fact checked.” He grinned and headed down the
dimly lit corridor. “By Monday,” he called back over his shoulder. “Have a nice
weekend!”
Joraleah sighed deeply to the drab
beige walls of her cubical. “Thanks a lot,” she cried aloud, “and don’t call me
Lady J!”
It was an automatic gut reaction.
She had no plans for the weekend. While maintaining a close circle of cherished
friends, most of Joraleah’s weekends were spent curled up on her small sofa in
her garage apartment going through a large dusty stack of file folders
inconsiderately dropped on her cramped, cluttered desk. She had grown
accustomed to being on her own; secure in the notion that true love would one
day wash over her.
♥
Joraleah yawned and stretched like a
waking cat. Blinking her tired eyes, the plastic wall clock came into a fuzzy
focus: 10:14. She looked around. Hers was the only light still lit among the
half dozen cubicles. “Of course,” she said to no one, “its 10:14 Friday night.
Everyone else has plans, dates, and friends.” She shook her head. Long strands
of unpinned chestnut brown hair fluttered about. “Wake up girl, time to go
home… way past time to go home. What you need is a shower. Maybe a good wet
soaking will revive you.”
The still September night air was
heavy, humid and pungent. They must have
cut the grass on the mall today,
Joraleah thought, wrinkling her nose to the sharp odor. As she crossed the
deserted campus, the dozen file folders in her backpack caused the straps to
pull at her shoulders. From nowhere a mild breeze arrived, tugging at the hem
of her midi length skirt. Far above, a witch’s moon played hide and seek with
the dark clouds slowly gathering from the south. Joraleah gave the ominous sky
a discerning glance. “The old gods must be restless tonight. Oh, well…”
The first raindrop touched
Joraleah’s elbow, causing her to jump. At first she thought an insect had
bitten her. The fallen drop seemed to glisten with a soft golden yellow hue in
the waning moonlight. Another raindrop found Joraleah’s slightly turned nose.
It burned, tickled and stung all at once, causing Joraleah to flick the
unexpected visitor aside. In no time the moon had disappeared behind a blanket
of inky black clouds. Joraleah quicken her pace, the wooden heels of her knee
length boots echoing a rhythmic click off the smooth white pavement. She knew
she wouldn’t make it home in time. Sudden autumn showers were no stranger to
the area. But the quickness with which this one had developed sent a
disquieting shiver through Joraleah’s body. Be
careful what you wish, she thought, smiling to herself, this isn’t exactly the shower I had in mind.
By the time she reached her front
door, a light steady drizzle was falling, tickling her bare arms and causing
her simple make-up to run. Shedding the bulging backpack, Joraleah reached for
a soft gray bath towel and retreated to her bedroom.
Late that night Joraleah sat upright
in her bed, rubbing her red, weary eyes. She was surrounded by open file
folders, hastily scribble notes on yellow legal paper, her lap top computer, an
empty bag of Cheetos, and half a can of Hires root beer. It was 4:11 in the
morning and she had finished checking the dozen or so facts in the final file
folder. With a satisfied feeling of accomplishment, Joraleah slipped down into
the welcoming covers, recalling the touch of the sudden shower on her skin. Her
hands and arms began to tingle. Her slightly turned nose twitched once… twice…
and Joraleah fell into a long, deep comfortable sleep.
♥
Sunday morning the sun shone
brightly through the lace curtains of the single bedroom window. Exhausted from
the week’s work load of researching half interesting topics ranging from the
number of casualties in the Crimean War to the distillation of active amino
acids, Joraleah had slept Saturday away. It was a routine that was quickly
becoming a regular part of Joraleah’s life. As the sleep slowly left her, Joraleah
vowed to spend more time away from her desk. The sound of a distant lawn mower
filled the tiny bedroom. Mr. Green was mowing his lawn. Someone should ask him not to do it so early on Sunday morning. As
she stretched, the scent of the freshly cut, dew laden grass reached Joraleah.
It smelled sweet and brought with it pleasant thoughts of a summer long gone.
Happily recalling the forgotten
memory, she rose to start her day.
Later that afternoon, Joraleah sat
on an old wool blanket in a corner of a popular park. It was a ritual as
predictable as the rest of her predictable existence: Sunday afternoons, the
park, the old wool blanket, and a dog eared copy of romantic Elizabethan
poetry. A bright sun warmed the early fall day. Joraleah looked around. A
yellow tennis ball bounced past followed closely by a leaping black Lab and a
laughing young boy. Not far away a group of students from the university were
playing Hacky-Sack. A couple kissed tenderly as they relaxed in the waning
shade of a thinning maple tree.
Taking in the tranquil scene,
Joraleah smiled, her thin lips curling to one side. She loved watching the
children, and their games, and the obviously budding romances of those around
her. She considered herself to be a hopeless romantic at heart. But Joraleah
was more of a watcher, a timid observer of life. She lived vicariously while
her heart remained cautiously closed; shuttered away against the world around
her.
But something was different today.
Something was amiss within her safe
routine.
The fragrances of the fresh autumn
day didn’t trigger her asthma. In fact, Joraleah found herself intoxicated by
the patchwork of perfumes that floated on the air. They brought with them
memories, memories of childhood days and family outings; pleasant, comfortable
memories believed lost to the passage of time.
And there was something else.
The normally offensive sun that
tended to burn and dry Joraleah’s sensitive skin felt warm and welcoming on her
face and arms. Without much thought or concern, Joraleah relaxed back on the
old wool blanket. Opening her book to a favorite poem by Christopher Marlowe,
Joraleah began to read aloud:
Come live with me, and be my love:
And we will all the pleasures
prove…
♥
Monday began like every other Monday
in Joraleah’s life. Her cheeks did appear a bit rosier in the bathroom mirror.
The handsome young cashier at Starbucks did look up as he handed back her
change for the tall, non-fat mocha. And the usual pleasantries and head nods
exchanged as she walked across campus did seem a bit more friendly and genuine.
But by the time she reached her cubicle the curious sensations were forgotten.
It was time to get to work.
By 3:30, Joraleah was deeply engaged
with a sixteenth century account of accepted social practices among members of
the Protestant Reformation. Faintly aware of the presence of someone within her
space, Joraleah continued to study the tome before her. “Just drop them on the
desk with the others, please,” she said without looking up.
“I’m sorry…”
The voice was deep yet gentle and
smooth, like crushed velvet to the touch. It seemed vaguely familiar.. Slowly
looking up, Joraleah found herself peering into a pair of soft beagle brown
eyes. “Oh, I’m… I’m sorry, I thought…”
“It’s ok. I didn’t mean to interrupt
your concentration.”
Momentarily lost for words, Joraleah
shuffled nervously in her chair. The visitor was tall, over six feet, with
sandy blonde hair hastily parted to one side. He sported a worn tan corduroy
jacket, the elbows capped with oval leather patches mostly out of necessity
rather than fashion. The friendly brown eyes were framed with gold wire rimmed
bifocals. She did know him. She had seen him a few times around campus and at
the university book store.
“Hello, I’m Edwin Notus.”
Joraleah rose, accepting the
outstretched hand in greeting. His touch was electric, pulling the smitten
research assistant from her temporary reverie. “Yes, yes I know. You’re
Professor Notus.” Feeling her cheeks redden, Joraleah shifted her gaze. “You’re
from the history department. I‘ve read several of your papers.”
“Yes, that’s what I’ve come to talk
to you about.” So this was the mysterious woman he’d heard about in idle
cafeteria chat and water cooler gossip. The bookish brunette who mostly kept to
herself, eating lunch alone in her cubicle and staying buried in work. He’d
often pondered the flowing, exaggerated initials that graced the bottom of his
corrected documents. She was the one who was at least in part responsible for
the success of the papers he’d published. Her proven and trusted research had even
helped him to attain notoriety among his peers. “Please, call me Edwin.”
Her smile was genuine, her timorous
manner affecting. She was nothing like he’d imagined. The rumors and stories
about ‘Plain Lady J, the research recluse’ were wrong. This woman was lovely.
Her soft features and genteel face proclaimed an inner beauty that most
overlooked.
The unaccustomed nervousness began
to settle a bit. Joraleah found herself becoming fascinated with the handsome
visitor. “Yes, whatever you say, Professor… err… Edwin… My name is Joraleah.”
“What a beautiful and lyrical name. You
must be aware of its meaning.”
For the first time she became conscious of the
cute heart shaped mole on his left temple. “Thank you. No, not really, I’m not.
It’s actually a combination of my parent’s names, Jordan and Leighanna.”
“Joraleah,” he said softly, “it
means gentle autumn rain.” Reluctantly, he allowed her slender hand to slip
from his. “As I said, most beautiful; it suits you.”
Butterflies once again filled her stomach.
“Oh… well… what… what can I do for you?”
“I have to present a paper on The
Influence of Greek Mythology On 20th Century History. I have only a
couple of weeks to finish and I am in desperate need of an assistant. I’d like
for you to join me”
The bout of nerves returned and
Joraleah felt her stomach start to bubble. She’d met handsome men before. But the
queasiness was a new sensation to her and not entirely unpleasant. She realized
what the request would mean. There would be long hours and surely many late
nights. The research alone would be overwhelming. But the thing that excited
Joraleah the most was the fact that she’d be working closely with this
intriguing man who affected her so strangely. “Gee, I don’t know. I’m already
well behind in my work.”
Once again Edwin’s soft brown eyes
found Joraleah’s. “Please…”
She felt herself yielding to his
hypnotic gaze. “I… I’m…”
“I’ve already cleared it with your
department head. She’s given me the liberty to make full use of your time.”
Edwin gathered Joraleah’s hands in
his and the bubbles in her stomach began to effervesce.
♥
“Would you like some coffee?” Edwin
and Joraleah sat in an old wooded booth in a secluded corner of Antonio’s
Italian Villa Restaurant. The remains of lasagna with meatballs for two and a
shared slice of cherry cheesecake littered the table. “Or would you prefer some
more wine?”
They had been working nearly
non-stop for three days. Their first evening together he had walked her home.
Late that night, she had come to the conclusion that she enjoyed the
Professor’s company. Now, despite the work load still pending, Professor Notus managed
to talk the reserved research assistant into accompanying him to dinner. The
break from the dry, highly detailed work was a welcome and needed one. On the
surface, Edwin Notus seemed a simple and honest man who loved history and loved
teaching even more. He lived modestly in a small house on campus provided by
the university. He was easy going, and Joraleah found herself increasingly
drawn to him. Then again, Professor Notus was only one of a small number of men
since her junior year in college with whom she’d shared more than just a few
casual minutes.
His name was Brad and he possessed
an earthy, rugged handsomeness and unrelenting confidence that Joraleah found strangely
attractive. She’d been paired with the brash young mid-westerner as a study
partner in her Comparative Literature class. The semester progressed smoothly
enough, Joraleah easily sidestepping his amours advances. However, her mixed
feelings towards the BMOC often left her confused and frustrated. During
Christmas break, a protracted argument with her parents about her chosen career
path and desire to move away after graduation had resulted in Joraleah
returning to college early. A few days after New Years, feeling particularly alone,
the vulnerable coed confided in her study partner. That evening, as they lay
across her dorm room bed preparing for mid-terms, Brad took the young coed into
his powerful arms, kissing her neck, her cheek and finally her moist lips.
Joraleah found herself giving in to the considerable charms of the smooth
talking young man from Oklahoma. It wasn’t Joraleah’s first time with a man. But
the encounter made her feel clumsy and awkward, and wishing that Brad would
take notice of her timorous movements. He didn’t. Joraleah was left shaken and
unfulfilled. A week later the semester ended, as did the brief relationship.
Joraleah sat considering her dinner
companion from across the table. He is a
handsome man, she told herself, the cute heart shaped mole on his left temple
stirring a long buried memory. Following her ill conceived dalliance with Brad,
Joraleah had become disenchanted with the idea of a relationship. A few men
entered her life, but she concentrated rather on her studies. As always, she
reminded herself that one day love would come along. She just needed to be
patient. But if there was one advantage to living on the outside it was that it
afforded the opportunity to observe and study people. And Joraleah considered
herself to be an excellent judge of people, at least from a distance. Yes, she decided, he is a kind and handsome man.
“Hello, Earth to Joraleah.”
The comment pulled Joraleah from her
momentary reverie. Edwin sat poised across the table, a half empty bottle of vintage
1998 Sonoma Coast Chardonnay in his hand. He appeared to be studying her as
closely as she had been studying him. The thought was at once flattering and
embarrassing. “Oh, I’m… I’m sorry. No, I’d better not. I’m afraid any more wine
would just make me giddy.”
Undeterred, Edwin topped off her
glass. “And would that be such a bad thing?”
Joraleah’s cheeks grew full a blush.
She diverted her eyes, fiddling uneasily with her napkin. “Well, I’m not…”
His smile brightened the intimate
booth. With an affectionate wink, he passed over her glass. “Then maybe you
should.”
In a rush of conflicted emotions,
Joraleah returned the smile. She accepted the goblet, and glanced nervously
about the cozy inn. “You know, I actually come here often. I really love this old
place.”
Edwin’s words flowed like a song on
the air:
“It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate…”
Joraleah’s surprised gaze found his.
Her soft clear blue eyes danced in the flickering candle light, the words coming
freely and in a sudden rush:
“When two are stripped, long ere the course
begin,
We wish that one should love, the other win…”
They clinked glasses, holding each
other’s gaze in a distended embrace, and drank deeply. The clear pale wine was
sweet and cool and comforting. It reached Joraleah’s stomach causing her toes
to ball into tiny fists. As the tender moment ebbed, Joraleah found a voice for
her thoughts. “How… how do you know Christopher Marlowe?”
The disarming smile broadened.
By the time they left Antonio’s, a
gentle rain was falling. The cool drops elicited ringlets of wispy steam from
the sun warm sidewalk. Strolling through the fine white mist, Joraleah found
her hand resting comfortably in Edwin’s. A confection of feelings raced through
her. To Joraleah’s surprise his grasp felt good; natural. As they reached her
doorstep the rain picked up and Joraleah’s body began to relax. At first she
thought it was the wine taking affect. A moment later she understood.
Surrendering to the moment, Joraleah allowed the feelings to wash over her like
the refreshing clear rain pouring down from above. Several raindrops touched
her lips. The taste was sharp and satisfying.
Without a word, she took Edwin’s
face in her hands, pulling him close.
The kiss lingered in the late
September shower.
♥
Joraleah lay in her bed, joyously
recalling the last three days of her life. A dozen new feelings had found her;
a dozen old ones, long since boxed away had escaped their confinement. She felt
at once alive with new sensations, yet betrayed by her own instincts. Following
the previous night’s intimacy, Joraleah had panicked. There was no other word
to describe her behavior. Acting no better than a silly school girl on her
first date, she had panicked. Suddenly breaking away from the kiss, she had
bolted into the house.
Joraleah laughed aloud, “Where does one run to escape from feelings?”
The question gave her cause to wonder. As she showered, Joraleah thought about
her life. She thought of college and of Brad. She thought of the other men in
her life, the few who tried in vain to capture her heart. Unconsciously she
adjusted the shower head. The warm water felt good as it rained down on her
smooth skin.
It stung.
Like the bite of mosquitoes.
At work, Joraleah found it nearly
impossible to concentrate. The nearness of the man who affected her so
powerfully clouded her mind; betrayed her judgment. Several times she was asked
to recheck an important fact, or verify a date, only to find she had made an
error. Looking up from behind a stack of reference books, Edwin removed his
glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Hey, are you ok? You seem a bit distracted
today.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
“Maybe it’s due to a little too much
wine last night?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
With a sagacious smile, Professor
Notus turned to his work partner. “Something’s going on in that complex but
pretty head of yours. And I need my assistant’s full attention today. C’mon,
give, what’s up?”
Joraleah shifted uneasily. “I’m not
really sure. It’s… it’s complicated.”
“It’s about last night, isn’t it?”
She didn’t answer. Sitting at his
side, Joraleah continued to stare blankly at the notes scribbled on the yellow
legal table. Yes, yes it was about last night. And it wasn’t. It was about too
many last nights, and about not
enough. It was about him; and about her; and about him and her. She could feel her arms ache to hold him; her lips yearn
to kiss him. And yet her heart remained conflicted, longing for the feelings
offered, yet afraid to accept. God, how could she ever begin to explain it to
him? She didn’t understand it fully herself.
Gently lifting her chin, Professor
Edwin Notus gazed deeply into Joraleah’s azure eyes. “Her lips suck forth my soul: see where it flies!”
Joraleah melted into Edwin’s tender
embrace as their lips met; their tongues touched. This time she didn’t fight
the feelings. This time she didn’t run.
♥
The next ten days seemed to fly
past. The tedious workload of checking and rechecking each factoid, every entry
increased. But the deadline wasn’t the only thing growing closer. Since their
passionate kiss in the Professor’s office, Joraleah could feel herself falling
for Edwin. Accepting what seemed to be inevitable, she’d permitted her
thoughts, and her feelings to run free. Joraleah felt alive. She awoke each
morning feeling refreshed and happy. She looked forward to the day’s activities
as well as its challenges. She’d permitted an outsider a furtive look inside of
her private cocoon. With each passing day, Professor Edwin Notus was peeling
open the cover that surrounded her existence. And Joraleah liked the view
slowly revealing itself before her.
But her heart remained stubbornly distant.
They had spent every waking hour of
the last six days together, cramming to finish. Long hours of study and
research, fueled on coffee and excitement were followed by a quick dinner and
more research, usually in the study of the Professor’s home. All the while
Edwin remained the proper gentleman. They shared tender caresses and lingering
good night kisses at her door; each arousing new feelings and exciting
sensations within Joraleah. And each night the Professor would return to his
home, reminding her of work yet to be accomplished. Joraleah appreciated the
unhurried pace with which Edwin led their growing relationship. It afforded her
the time she needed to understand and accept her emerging feelings for this
striking man who had come so suddenly and unexpectedly into her life.
♥
“Don’t you think maybe you’ve had
enough?” Joraleah shifted uneasily on the plush, crushed red velvet sofa.
Glancing about, she began to question her recent choices.
From across the fancily decorated
room, Edwin Notus turned, eyeing Joraleah with an uneasy leer. “Don’t be silly.
This is a celebration. We are celebrating, aren’t we?” Notus laughed out loud.
“Well, at least I am! I was brilliant tonight!” With that he turned his attention
back to the massive wooden bar and the glass pitcher of Cactus Flower
Margaritas.
“Yes, yes you were brilliant
tonight, Edwin. I was very proud of you. I just thought…”
“Well stop it!” The rough comment
sounded to Joraleah more like an order than conversation. It caused the
surprised young woman to jump in her seat. Striding across the deeply woven
carpet, a fresh pitcher of margaritas in hand, Professor Notus continued.
“That’s what’s wrong with you my dear, you think too much! Too much… too long…
too deeply… all the time! You don’t know when to stop, or how to relax! Well,
I’ve got the cure for that right here.”
It was three AM Saturday morning,
and Joraleah and Edwin sat in the spacious living room of a luxury suite in Las
Vegas’ famous Bellagio Hotel. Earlier that evening Professor Notus had
presented his research paper to some seventy five top minds in the fields of history
and anthropology. The large gathering was attentive and receptive to the
Professor’s words, eventually rising in a polite standing ovation. At the
reception and dinner afterwards, Joraleah was a vision in the softly shimmering
turquoise evening gown she had purchased especially for the occasion. With her
hair flatteringly coiffed, and more make-up then she had ever worn highlighting
her expressive eyes and genteel features, Joraleah looked and felt beautiful.
Edwin barely seemed to take notice.
As the Professor circulated among
his colleagues, Joraleah shyly melted into the background. After all, this was
the Professor’s big moment. Buoyed on alcohol and egotism Notus eagerly basked
in the spotlight of his sudden popularity. His speech had been an overwhelming
success, his paper an academic triumph, and he seemed determined to make the
most of his personal fifteen minutes of fame. Joraleah understood and watched
proudly from the sidelines. The evening, indeed nearly every day and night of
the past two weeks since Professor Edwin Notus came into her life, had been
filled with new and exciting feelings. But now, as she stood in polite silence,
Joraleah felt a new sensation, a new feeling washing over her. Yes, Edwin had formulated
the hypothesis, written and presented the paper. But it was her research; her
corrections and fact checking; and her tireless attention to detail that had
made the paper a success.
A sudden flash of anger came over
the pretty research assistant, followed immediately by waves of confusion and
self doubt. Joraleah quickly brushed them aside. She had a right to feel
jealous and jaded. Joraleah raised a crystal flute of mediocre champagne to her
painted lips, but then stopped. Was it just the alcohol affecting her thinking?
This was Professor Notus’s moment. He
deserved the praise and accolades being lavished upon him. But she deserved
some notice as well. How many times in the past had this same scene played out,
in other hotels and conference rooms, with other professors and doctors
presenting papers and findings on a myriad of topics she had researched and
corrected?
The twinge of jealousy flared up again.
Joraleah had smiled to herself, set the glass of potent liquor aside, and
returned to the hotel room alone.
Professor Notus’ sudden and uncalled
for remarks touched Joraleah, hurt her feelings. She had done nothing to
warrant this attack on her character. Joraleah rose from the sofa.
“Oh, sit down, Jory! Don’t be such a
child. You know perfectly well what I meant… Here…” Notus filled a tall, salt
rimmed goblet with the reddish gold concoction, shoving the over flowing glass
in front of Joraleah. “This will do you some good.”
Painting on a half hearted smile,
she accepted the drink. Maybe he was right; maybe she did need to relax a bit.
This was supposed to be a celebration. She was in a beautiful hotel suite in
the most exciting city in the world, with a handsome man whom she admired
deeply. It was time; time for Joraleah to emerge the beautiful butterfly, but
in a different way.
Joraleah raised her glass.
“To the new Jory,” Notus proclaimed.
“No!” The reply was sure;
determined. “It’s Joraleah!”
He ignored the sudden declaration.
Notus’ glass clinked against hers and they drank deeply.
With a sudden harsh laugh, the
Professor snatched the glass from Joraleah’s hand, impetuously flinging it and
his own aside. The expensive crystal shattered into a thousand tiny pieces in a
corner of the room. Grabbing her delicate wrist, Notus pulled Joraleah to him,
forcefully kissing her tender lips. Unaccustomed to the harshness of his
embrace, Joraleah resisted. But as the potent liquor reached her head, and the
heat of their passion spread throughout her quivering body, Joraleah found
herself surrendering to the moment.
As if on cue, Notus became a man
possessed. Holding the stunned woman at arm’s length, he tugged at the plunging
neckline of her gown, tearing the delicate material, exposing her modest
breasts. Towering over her, Edwin’s mouth found the smooth nape of Joraleah’s
neck, kissing and nibbling hungrily. His grasping hand roughly cupped her
exposed breast, as he continued to kiss his way down the front of her trembling
body.
Joraleah was trapped, betrayed by
her own pent up emotions. Her head spun dizzily as her aching body melted in
the professor’s powerful embrace. Sweeping her up in his arms, Notus carried
his willing captive into the bedroom.
In an instant he was on top of her,
pulling at the remains of her once beautiful gown, pawing avariciously at her
aching flesh. In a sudden single violent thrust he had entered her, taken her
for his own.
Joraleah’s mind raced wildly in a
blur of maddening desire. Yes… yes… wasn’t this what she’d longed for… to be taken…
to be needed… wanted… and desired?
♥
Monday morning Joraleah arose, a
thousand thoughts filling her anxious mind; a million sensations flooding her body.
She felt renewed, reborn, and alive.
Was she in love?
Were these the feelings, the
emotions, the pleasures she longed to find?
Thick grey threatening clouds
followed Joraleah as she hurried across campus. Heading up the old wooden
stairs of the university’s history department, she approached the
receptionist’s desk. “Is he in?” she asked, “Edwin… Professor Notus, is he in
yet?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the receptionist
replied, “didn’t you know? Professor Notus is gone.”
“Gone… what, what do you mean…
gone?”
“The Professor accepted a position
at UCLA as head of their history department. I assumed you knew about it,
everyone else on campus did. He tendered his resignation over a month ago. Last
Friday was his final day.”
Throwing open the unlocked door,
Joraleah stepped into a darkened paneled office. Before her an expanse of
gently worn wine colored carpet led to a large antique oak desk, its top
uncluttered and desolate. Massive floor to ceiling book cabinets lined three
walls, the shelves empty and barren. A lone trash can, filled with crumpled
papers and discarded file folders sat in mute testament to the painful truth. On top lay a book of Elizabethan poetry.
Joraleah turned towards the door. Blinking
back a tear, she wandered down the deserted hall and stepped out into the
overcast fall morning. The air was heavy, humid and pungent. Slowly she crossed
the campus. The wooden heels of her knee length boots echoed with a rhythmic
click off the smooth white pavement. From nowhere a mild southern breeze
arrived, tugging at the hem of her midi length skirt. Joraleah gave the ominous
sky a glance and smiled. “The old gods must be restless today. Maybe a good wet
soaking is what I need.”
Be
careful what you wish, she thought, remembering the last two weeks;
recalling Brad and the other men that had come in and out of her life.
The first raindrop touched
Joraleah’s elbow. It glistened with a soft golden yellow hue. Another raindrop
found Joraleah’s slightly turned nose as she raised her face skyward. Soon a
steady rain began to fall. It matted her hair and streaked her light makeup.
The cool drops felt good on her skin as they washed away her tears.
“Now this is more like it,” Joraleah
called to the rain, laughing aloud. “Love will find me… someday. But, if it
doesn’t…”
With a knowing smile and a contented
sigh, Joraleah headed off across campus.
