Are You Really Asking Me Out?

1971 Words
Respectfully, Mr. Kane was fine. I have never witnessed in my life a white man that made my knees go weak as he did. There was just something about him that attracted me that I couldn't put my finger on. He looked clean, that's for sure. His skin was flawless, not even a freckle. His hair was jet black, shiny and slightly faded on the sides. His body – oh my goodness – there's not much that I could see from his suit, but I knew that he was muscular. It wasn't anything drastic, because he also seemed a bit lean, but other than that, I just knew that man had abs. Truthfully, every time this man looked at me, I felt like hands were wrapping around my neck. His eyes were so . . . blue. Despite what any book may depict, it is rather rare to see anyone with bright blue, or green eyes. Mr. Kane hardly knew me, yet he had me standing in my mirror for ten minutes thinking about him. I had taken a few things from the shop yesterday as 'gifts' and his candles were the truth. Long after they melted out, my room remained the smell of them. For three days now, my room has been smelling like honey and milk. Also for three days now I've been buying candles and fragrances at his shop in hopes that I would see him. I met Hannah again, and she always apologized for the racist man's behavior but I was over that. All I wanted to do now was get to know her boss. "Ooo, you look nice." "Thanks, Cleo," I grin at my aunt clementine, who I lived with, and grabbed my keys off the table. "Hot date?" "Oh, how I wish," I reply honestly and she chuckles. "Have a great day baby, and don't forget we're having later night dinner tomorrow!" "You know I live here, right," I place a hand on my hip, "you could've reminded me tomorrow." "Sometimes I forget," she lets out a cute, silly little laugh before returning to her laptop. She worked online as a virtual assistant and spent at least 12 hours a day on her computer. I was dressed in a beige sundress, fashion slippers, and a nicely laid wig as I walked into Sincerely for the fifth time this week. "Noelle," Hannah's smile blatantly displayed confusion. "Hey," I greet. "I just can't get enough of any of these smells." "Oh," she nods, letting out a breath of satisfaction, "yup, we get that a lot." "Can I help you with anything today?" "No, I think I'm alright, Hannah. I've got the place all mapped out." "Alright," she chuckles, "enjoy the rest of your day." I smile at her as she walks away before skipping towards the back where Mr. Kane's door was. I eye it carefully, willing it to open, but like the other days, it never does. I walk around slowly, stopping at almost every perfume. By my thirtieth, my allergies were starting to kick in. I decided that that was my cue to leave. A bit disappointed, I hardly notice the hunk of a man standing in the parking lot. He was speaking to the security card, his face as serious as ever. "Okay, Noelle, this is your chance," I clear my throat quietly, before walking towards them, even if my car was in the opposite direction. I pretended to be looking for something in my bag as I near them, and they become quiet upon noticing me. "Think I left my keys . . . " I murmur to myself, before letting out a loud exaggerated sigh. Turning to seem like I was heading back into the store. "Oh – Mr. Kane," he shoves his hands in his pocket as he stares at me, "I didn't see you there." "Howard, that'll be all." He dismisses the security guard and narrows his eyes at me for a moment before coming closer. "I didn't get your name the other day." "Noelle," I reply, and he nods. "Noelle," he repeats, peering down at me with those icy blue eyes. "my security camera's recorded you here for the past five days. I guess you're enjoying my products." "Uh – y-yeah, I am – definitely," I take a second to calm myself, humiliation creeping up my spine, "my room still smells like honey." "Glad to hear it," he replies, "be sure to leave a review on our website." "You've never told me your name," I blurt, and he leans on the car next to him. "Yet, you seem to know it." "Everyone here calls you Mr. Kane." "I am Mr. Michael Kane," he says. "Michael," I whisper to myself, and he rolls his lips into his mouth before taking a deep breath. "It was nice seeing you again, Noelle. I should go in." "No – wait!" Damn it girl, relax. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me?" "Are you really asking me out?" For a moment, Michael smiles. "Yeah," I shrug, "I see something that I like." "I'm flattered, Noelle, really, but I have to be honest with you; I'm not – I don't want any extra relations right now. I'm focused on my business at the moment." "Oh, well then, I guess we can settle to be friends?" Michael chuckles slightly, "Thank you, you're a very . . . wonderful person. And I hope that you find your keys, if you need any help talk to security." Michael nods at me one last time before leaving me in the parking lot, watching him walk away. # Now, who exactly did this man think he was? I was confused. He seen all of this, and still said . . . no? Maybe he just wasn't into black people, and that's fine, everyone has their preferences but I was into him so he should've made an exception. "Noelle," my manager enters the room where I change, handing over a paperbag, "this is yours." "Thanks, Mars," I push it into my bag, slipping on my flip-flops. "Great job, as usual," she replies with a brief smile. We leave together, going our separate ways in the parking lot. With burlesque dancing, there were good days, and then there were bad days. The bad days would be when the club is half empty, or when there's a fight and everyone has to leave early. I'd have to go home with hardly a night's worth of money in my pocket. The good days were a full house, tips that never ended, with respectful people. Tonight was a good day if you get what I mean. I had made at least eight hundred tonight, not including the tips I had stuck in my bra. With my hand round the other seat, I happily drove home, Tink's Cap playing on my speakers. I vibed for the first ten minutes before I heard a loud noise coming from the back of my car. I pull over on the side of the road, gaining the courage to go outside at almost two in the morning. The streets were pitch black with only the dull lampposts shedding a little light. "No, no, no," I cried, as I watch my deflated tire. I had no spare, and it's highly unlikely that I'd get any tow truck or repairman out on the road at this time of night. "Shit." I wanted to call Aunt Cleo, but I knew she'd be in bed by now so that she could wake up for work tomorrow, and I didn't want to be inconsiderate. But then what do I do? Do I sleep in the car? Do I walk home? As a car speeds by, I realized what I had to do. With my thumbs out, my bag tightly wrapped under my hoodie, I stood on the side of the road, swallowing my pride. I thought I'd be out here all night, God forbid that I get kidnapped. A truck was the next vehicle that passed by, except it stopped for a moment. "Where ya headed?" From what I could see from the barely laminated road, I did not want to get in that truck. "Oh – uh – I'm actually waiting on someone," I reply, "sorry about that?" "Waiting on someone," the man chuckles, "miss your hands were outstretched towards the road. Are you stranded?" "I – no – I already called someone, they're on their way." "Are you sure? Would you like me to wait with you?" To my dismay, he shuts off his engine. "That's not necessary," I reassure him and he shrugs, opening his door. "I insist. A lonely, beautiful girl out here in the dead of the night like this, all alone. It would simply be terrible of me to leave you out here." "Sir I assure you that I'm fine, my boyfriend will be here any moment," I lie. I had an ill feeling in my stomach, my mouth dry as he walks towards me. This man easily towered over me, intimidating in both height and size. He had hair that was wrapped in a ponytail under his hat and a big ginger beard. Gulping, I glance behind me to see if there was anywhere I could run, but getting lost in the forest didn't seem like a much better option. "Boyfriend, huh," he reaches for me, and I yelp, jumping away. "Leave me alone," panicked, I kick him between his legs. He doubles over, and I was about to take off running when headlights flash us. By the time the owner of the new car approached us, I was having a full-on panic attack. My mind felt like it was closing in, my chest expanded and contracted with every desperate gasp for breath. I felt like my surroundings were all jumping out to me. "Noelle," the new man whispers as he gently takes my hand. Out of reflex, I snatch it back roughly, colliding with the back of my vehicle. "Breathe," he says. His scent was very familiar. "No," I cry, tears pouring out of my eyes. I shut them, sliding down onto the ground. "Noelle," he says more sternly, "breathe." I try to breathe, but there just wasn't enough air. "What the f**k did you do?" The man turns to my attacker who was watching the scene unfold in front of him. Next thing we knew he was climbing into his truck and speeding away. As he left I felt cool, and I could feel the breeze passing through my finger, and underneath my thighs. My eyes focused on the blue eyes that peered into mine, and for some reason, I started crying even more. Michael places his hand around my hips, helping me off the ground, and carrying me into his vehicle. Whilst in the safety of his car, he waits quietly for me to calm down before he starts driving. "I'm sorry," I tell him, using my jacket to wipe my now swollen eyes and runny nose. "What're you sorry for, Noelle?" "That must've been embarrassing for you,' I shake my head, "you probably have somewhere else to be as well, and I have you cooped up here." "I'm heading home," he elaborates, leaning back in his chair. I noticed that he no longer had his blazer, nor his dress shirt on, instead, he had his undershirt that was still tucked into his slacks. "You shouldn't be apologizing, that man attacked you." I remain quiet. I'm not sure what that man's intention was, but it wasn't anything good. The entire situation felt surreal. It's like although you know that it can happen to you, that it can happen to anyone, you never really expect it to. "Let's get you home then."
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