Chapter 2

2702 Words
CLARISSA FOUND herself substituting for a sick teacher on Monday morning. They don't have so many activities today so maybe you can teach them art throughout! They told her. The nerve! No one understood that art was not something that should be taken for granted. She loved her job at the school but hated that everyone belittled her because she was an art teacher. She wasn't an art teacher per se but she loved art and she loved children. She strolled around the classroom as the children, not older than six years, made drawings of their families. She paused at their tables and asked them about their families. "This is my father," one boy named Christian Renoir pointed at the sketchy figures he managed to draw on his paper. "He's never around because he's a businessman." He said sadly. "He travels all around the world and he told me that when I'm old enough he is going to take me with him." "How old are you, Christian?" Clarissa asked softly. Christian smiled and put up five fingers. "I'm five!" Clarissa's eyes widened with exaggerated surprise. "My, you are a big boy, aren't you?" Christian nodded with a smirk on his face. "That I am, Miss Langston." And he was quite the charmer, Clarissa noted as she pointed to the black draped figure at the end of his family."And who's this?" A grin appeared on his face. "That is my uncle, Nicholas. He too is very busy but whenever he comes to visit, he always spends time with me. He takes me around and plays with me. He is the best uncle in the whole world!" "That is good to know." Clarissa brushed the black locks from the little boy's forehead and tapped his nose with her index finger. "You are a very intelligent young man, Mr Christian Renoir." "My uncle thinks so too." Christian giggled as he continued with his picture. After the family portrait exercise, they had a break and went outside for their physical education before coming back for a nap and finally is was home time. Clarissa was relieved when the bell rang because she was just about done reading all the good story books to the children. They were intelligent and asked questions beyond their years of which some Clarissa found embarrassing to answer. "Alright!" Clarissa clapped her hands together. "Don't forget all your belongings. Make a straight line and let's head off to the parking lot." Grand cars were parked at the school's parking lot as the snotty-nosed rich children, as Sidney put it, were picked up by chauffeurs and guardians. Clarissa still ogled them like it was the first time she was seeing them. It was something that she could never get used to. Each teacher came out with their class and waited at the shaded sandstone benches as proud looking women and men came for their children. "Hey, Clarie!" Pam called her. Clarissa groaned and turned to her. "Hey!" "I'll see you afterwards, right?" She winked at her. Why did Clarissa have a sinking feeling that she was going to regret it? "Alright." "My treat!" Pam exclaimed excitedly. Clarissa humphed and felt her hand being squeezed lightly. She looked down and frowned that only Christian remained on her side. He didn't look too happy and Clarissa felt a pang in her heart for the sad child. What kind of man would be too busy for his son? And what about his mother? Couldn't she get some time off and just spend it with him? Couldn't they see that they were making it hard for their son? "Christian, who's coming to collect you?" Clarissa crouched down and looked at him. Christian shrugged his shoulders. "The chauffeur I guess. I don't know." Clarissa pursed her lips and tried to control the anger she felt inside. Every other child was gone and it was only the two of them at the benches. "How about one last story before you leave?" Clarissa asked the young boy and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. She began telling him her version of Jack and The Beanstalk. By the time she reached halfway, Christian was giggling out of control. "...so Jack climbed up the tower to rescue the princess." Clarissa said and Christian laughed out loud. "Are you sure you know the story? That is Rapunzel!" Clarissa pretended to look confused. "It is?" then narrowed her eyes knowingly at Christian. "If you think you know the story well enough then you tell it." Just as Christian started the story, a black tinted Rolls Royce pulled up beside them. Christian was about to jump down the bench when Clarissa clasped his hand and held him back. She was responsible for him whenever his parents were not around and she needed to keep him safe. She suspiciously watched as the front window went down and the chauffeur waved at them with a friendly smile plastered on his face. "Uncle Nicholas! That's uncle Nicholas' driver!" Christian jumped up and down excitedly but Clarissa still didn't let him go. What did this uncle Nicholas do for a living to have such a tinted car and not want his face to be seen? Was he a drug lord—or maybe a member of the Mafia? She cautiously approached the car and knocked at the back window. The window went down revealing the most handsome man she had ever seen in her short life! Her breath hitched as she drank him in. Maybe he did have the right to keep his windows up and tinted. He was not safe in the streets with that face. Her heart jumped to her throat as he removed his shades and turned to her with cool dark eyes. He arched an eyebrow at her, his full, beautiful and delicious-looking lips twitching with amusement. He had the face of a fallen angel with high cheek bones and a chiseled jaw that looked as stubborn as his chin. His nose was straight and beautiful and he had hair as black as the midnight skies. A man never looked more scrumptious! Ooh, but was she angry with him! "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! How could you come an hour after school is over? Are you even Christian's guardian? I need to see your identification, sir." She scolded and added. "It's protocol that we check and verify the guardians taking the children home. We don't want the children being abducted by creepy strange men driving creepy black tinted cars." Nicholas eyed Clarissa for a long time and it looked like he was not going to comply but then suddenly he reached for his black leather wallet and produced a card. "I'm happy to see you, uncle Nicholas!" Christian beamed at his uncle but stood beside Clarissa like the good little boy that he was with his little hand still in Clarissa's. "I'm happy to see you too, champ." Clarissa peered over the card at the man who had just spoken. His velvety voice spread over her like warm honey and burnt areas that she thought were dead. She found herself peering over the card to look at him. His eyes moved from his nephew to hers and something explainable smoldered within them. She quickly turned back to the card. Nicholas Renoir. It was all that was written on the small black card. The words were engraved in a gold Italic handwriting and it looked expensive. She flipped the card over and there was nothing on the other side. No job description, no telephone number...nothing. "Don't you have something more detailed, like your work identification, driver's license or passport?" Clarissa croaked at him. His sensual lips curled into a little amused smile. "I think that about covers what you need to know about me. If you need any more information, you should make an appointment with my lawyer." Clarissa's eyes bulged. He didn't just use the lawyer bullshit on her! What an arrogant, scrumptious, mysterious jerk. "It's protocol, Mr...." she looked down at the card. "Mr. Renoir." she wondered if somehow he was related to the famous artist, Pierre Renoir. "So is this." He assured her with a calmness that left Clarissa speechless then his cool eyes turned to Christian. "Get in the car, Champ. We have places to go." No wonder Christian drew him in black. The man was dressed in a well fitted black suit that had Clarissa wondering about the designer's mood. It was perfect for him. The door opened of the car and Christian jumped in. He shed his school navy blue pin striped jacket and untied his tie. "Have a nice evening, Christian." While she smiled at Christian, Clarissa threw daggers at Nicholas. "And I believe this is yours, Mr. Renoir. Don't be late the next time." She held the card to him. "Keep it." Nicholas put his shades back on and turned forward. "For future reference when you see this creepy strange man in this creepy black tinted car." And just like that, Clarissa was dismissed. "See you tomorrow, Miss Langston!" Christian called as the car rolled out. Clarissa looked down at the black card. Nicholas Renoir made her brain stutter and fail to remind her that she could talk and breathe! His eyes were going to haunt her dreams that night, she was very sure of it. She walked absentmindedly to her car only to bump into Pam who was curiously making her way to her. "Walk much?" Pam frowned. "Sorry, I was just a little distracted." She shook away the dreamy feeling from her head and concentrated on Pam. Pam crossed her arms and jerked her chin towards the road. "Who was that? I love his car." You think! Clarissa thought. "He is Christian's uncle--" She looked down at the card in her hands and couldn't help passing her thumb over the engraved letters. "Nicholas Renoir." Pam snatched the card from her and studied it. "Why do you have his card? How come there's nothing here but his name? Is he in the mob?" Clarissa snatched back the card and narrowed her eyes at her. "Learn to ask! And he's not in the mob. He's some businessman." "Do you like him?" Pam accused with her eyes narrowing shrewdly. "I just met him!" Clarissa felt exasperated. "If he is who I think he is then his family is our core benefactor. The Renoirs are sponsoring the venue and the event planning for the charity dinner so I hope you were nice to him." Pam turned on her heels and approached her car. Clarissa blinked at her friend. Pam could be having a bipolar moment and she didn't even know it. "Are you coming?" She called to Clarissa. Clarissa got hold of her keys from her handbag and waved them at Pam. "Drive on, I'll follow you!" Pam gave her a quick nod and got into her car before she pulled out of the parking lot and headed deep into town. SALONS WERE not Clarissa's cup of tea. Nothing good came out of such places, especially like the expensive one Pam chose. Rich depressed women went and talked about how their husbands lacked in bed and how they were screwing the pool boy or the postman. They must have been talking about a different postman because the last time Clarissa checked, the postman had a pot belly and his khaki pants hung low showing his not-at-all sexy and hairy butt c***k! Or maybe the rich had different postmen from the working class, who knew. "...so, I sneaked out and he met me at the tool shed. My husband was out of the country at that time. Oh it was so forbidden and exciting!" Clarissa rolled her eyes and turned to Pam with are-you-kidding-me written all over her face. Pam shrugged her shoulders and the two of them got ready for their sessions. By the time they were done, Clarissa had a new hairdo, gleaming and filed finger and toe nails, manicured eyebrows and enough gossip to make an entire new season of Desperate Housewives. "I'll see you tomorrow." Pam placed a kiss on Clarissa's cheek. "I'm having dinner with Anthony, tonight. Ciao!" Clarissa drove back home quietly. Her mind couldn't help but wander back to Nicholas Renoir. She snapped it back but it strayed again. It was like a typewriter, reaching the end and you have to jerk it back to start a new sentence. She didn't know what it was about him that both intrigued and terrified her. Of course there was that sinfully handsome face and that x-rated mouth not to forget those cool brown eyes and that tamed hair with an expensive haircut! There was something underneath that calm demeanor that made her want to run for the hills. Her body shivered when she remembered his voice. It soaked its way into her skin, through her flesh and settled cozily in her bones. She even remembered his hand when he handed her the card. He had long beautiful fingers and a large gold ring one of them. Was he married? She shook away the crazy thoughts and concentrated on the road. Then again, if he was the core benefactor of the event on Saturday didn't it mean that he was going to be present? She was not in the mood to meet him again. The first impression of him made her hate him but at the same time very curious about him. What did he do? Was he really French? Did he get weekly manicures to have such beautiful and clean nails? Whatever Nicholas Renoir's story was, Clarissa wanted nothing to do with it. She was positive he didn't want to see her again as much as she. "LOOKING GOOD!" Sidney grinned up at her when she entered the apartment as she cuddled deeper into Mick's arms. The couple had been tangled together she wondered if a master chef was allowed to work from home. Short of his clothes and belongings, Mick had already moved in. Now he was settled in front of their big flat-screen TV watching some reality show. Clarissa hoped it had something to with Sexually transmitted diseases or teenage moms or some s**t so that Sidney dragged chef to a clinic and get him checked. "Thanks, what are you guys up to?" She ran her fingers through the blond curls coming down around her face and down her back. "We are watching Living like a Millionaire." Sidney stretched like a cat and placed a kiss on Mick's nose. The s*x must had been really good to cajole her sister into monogamy. Clarissa smirked quietly. "Dinner's in the microwave." Mick added. Maybe Sidney didn't have to drag Mick to the clinic just yet... "Thanks, Mick." "You're welcome." As Clarissa made her way to the kitchen, she heard Mick muttering to Sidney at how adorable he thought she was. That was the last thing she wanted to hear from a man. She wasn't adorable! It placed her in the same category as a puppy quirking its head to the side with its eyes big and wide, a tickled baby squealing with joy and a scout girl with pigtails selling candy from door to door to help her sick grandma get a new wheelchair. Now, they were adorable, not her. She was either hot or not, period. Grumbling to herself, Clarissa opened the microwave and soon forgot that she was upset with Mick. A huge grin appeared on her face as she looked down at the food only seen in exclusive restaurants. Did all the ingredients come from their starved cupboards? Clarissa wasn't much of a cook and Sidney didn't even know how to switch on the stove. Having Mick there was like having a fairy godmother granting them food wishes. She gobbled up her food and when she was done, she sat back and downed it with a glass of warm milk and honey. She didn't want to be that fly in the ointment so she said her goodnights and went straight to her room. She placed Nicholas' card on her bedside table then jumped into her bed and called on sleep.
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