“Let’s face it, Carmen, everybody wants you,” Marcus said playfully. “The young and the old, rich and poor, male and female, black, white, Puerto Rican.”
“Everybody just a freakin'.”
“Good times are rollin'.”
“I think not, Marcus. That ain't my type of bump and grind,” she smiled at Marcus, moving her upper body slowly and seductively.
Marcus watched her move. Her eyes closed, feeling the music flowing through her. “Carmen Taylor, you really begin to interest me.”
“That's good, Marcus Douglas, because you began to interest me some time ago.” Dancing each word, moving close to Marcus and then moving away.
“That was just a figure of speech. You've had my undivided attention since you walked into my office. Everything you've done since has just made me more focused.”
“So, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Go ahead. Ask me anything you'd like.”
“I know you're married and getting a divorce, what I need to know is are you seeing somebody now? I don't like crowds.”
“No, I haven't been serious about a woman since I left my wife.”
“What broke y'all up?” Carmen danced.
“I caught her in bed with another man.”
“Oh.” Carmen abruptly stopped dancing. “I'm sorry.”
“Carmen, please.” He reached for her hand. “You don't need to apologize, Carmen.”
“I shouldn't have asked. I know that must hurt you?”
“It does. But a friend of mine made me see that I needed to forgive her and move on.”
“This friend of yours seems pretty smart.”
“Yes, she is very pretty and very smart,” Marcus said gently. “Lately I've been feeling a lot better about that whole situation. I know that has everything to do with being with you. So, please don't interrupt my private dance. Please don't stop.”
Carmen smiled. “Too late. The song is over.”
“But that doesn't mean you have to stop dancing. I like watching you move.”
WHY LEAVE US ALONE
Marcus heard the doorbell ring, but he thought it was part of his dream. In his dream he and Carmen were back at Goosebumps. He was the only customer and Carmen, the only dancer. He thought it was a little strange that a doorbell would be ringing at a strip club, but it was a dream, a good dream, so he tried to get back to it. When he heard the bell ring again, he cursed and rolled over. The clock said 1:05 AM. This better not be who I think it is. He thought as he angrily got out of bed. On the way to the door, Marcus indulged himself in the fantasy that it was Carmen at the door, but he knew better. First of all Carmen didn't know where he lived, but fantasy is a good thing. The door bell rang again, only this time it was coupled with loud banging. At that point he knew it wasn't Randa. Randa would never bang on the door, she might break a nail.
Marcus looked out the window and saw Garrett's truck parked crooked behind his BMW. What does he want at one in the morning? He opened the door.
“Wasup, Marcus!” Garrett said and wandered in. “Glad you opened the door, it was about to get ugly out there.”
“Come on in, Garrett, make yourself comfortable,” Marcus said sarcastically, seeing that Garrett was all ready inside and on his way to the couch. “What you wanna get ugly for at one in the morning?”
“I'm tryin' to figure that one out myself, Marcus. Why would I get ugly?” It was obvious that he had been drinking, but he wasn't drunk. “I was starting to think you had a woman up in this mug,” Garrett said as he plopped down on the couch.
“Suppose I do?”
“Then you'd have to set her out!” Then he whispered. “Is it Carmen?”
“No. Nobodies here, Garrett.”