Chapter 3

Squinting through one eye Chardonnay groaned as the sun shone brightly through her bedroom door. Making her way slowly to the edge of the bed she placed her feet on the floor before raising the top half of her body up. After a few gulps of air the world settled enough for her to try and make her way to the bathroom. Arms out stretched like a zombie and holding onto doorposts for support she finally made her way through her apartment with only one thought in mind: bathroom.

Patrick had just finished stepping out of the shower and had just started wrapping a towel around himself when the bathroom door was thrown open. Startled he looked up into eyes that where wide awake and surprised. Awkward much, he thought, as he finished securing the towel low on his hips

“Good morning, Char, feeling any better?” he questioned whilst picking up his clothes that were in a pile by his feet. Upon hearing a sharp intake of breath he looked back to where Chardonnay was standing, hand still closed over the door handle, looking statuesque.

“Since when did you get tatted?” Chardonnay queried staring pointedly at a tattoo located on an un-tanned strip of skin where the top of his boxers would normally cover. “Tua semper? What on earth does that mean? And how come I didn’t know about it?”

“I´ve had it for awhile and nobody that we know knows about it,” he said as he tried to move past her without looking her in the eyes, he hated lying to her but he was not going to tell her that the tat he had done was for her and because of her. “Its Latin,” he finished off praying that she would not ask again what it meant.

Just as she was opening her mouth to carry on questioning him, she was suddenly overwhelmed by lightheadedness and her stomach was starting to organize a revolt. Pushing him out of the bathroom she slammed the door and moved quickly over to the toilet bowl just as the rest of what was left of her dinner started to move upwards making her retch her heart out.

Leaning against the door on the outer side of the bathroom Patrick breathed in a deep breath, saved by the bell or the stomach in this case, he corrected as the sound or retching came through the door. Hopefully Chardonnay would have forgotten about his tattoo when she finished in the bathroom, he really couldn’t tell her that it meant “forever yours” that would lead to a whole new set of questions that he was not in the mood to answer, ever.

Pulling away from the door he let out a sigh as he wondered what it would be like if things were different. Wishing only ever got a man into trouble, he admonished. Better to focus on breakfast which was essential at the moment, the thought accompanied by a roar from his stomach, hoping that she had eggs in the fridge he started pulling on his clothes and making his way to the kitchen.

Chapter 2 1/2

Keeping Chardonnay upright whilst trying to fit the key into the lock on the door of her apartment was a mission and a half, a job that a lesser man would have failed miserably at, but finally Patrick succeeded. Swinging the door wide he picked her up and carried her in, dumping her carefully on the couch so as to lock the door again.

“You really could have let Leroy call a taxi for me that would so have been less embarrassing than this is going to be….” Char groaned as she pushed herself up carefully whilst the world spun round her ears.

“Believe me Sugar; you do not want to be left alone with that one,” muttered Patrick going over to the couch and lifting her feet up to remove her shoes.

It had been a while since he had had to put her to bed when she was like this, it only ever happened when she was fed up with dating or life in general or if she had a real bad fight with one of her girlfriends, all of which were rare as she was a positive thinker and getting completely besotted on alcohol a last resource. Though he had to admit to himself that he did get a thrill taking care of her in moments like this, he only wished the same could happen in the everyday picture.

There you go again, you fool, don’t go and do something you will regret for the rest of your life, his common sense spoke out to him.

Deciding that the safest place to be in a few moments would be the bathroom, Char lowered herself onto the floor and started crawling towards the general location of the bathroom.

“What are you doing, if I am be so bold as to ask?” inquired Patrick, “lost a contact lens perhaps?” as he observed Char´s interesting imitation of a baby tracking a pathway through the lounge on her knees.

“The door´s the same one you came in Patrick, if tonight´s partying kills me, I swear I’m coming back to haunt you for life,” was her comeback as she neared the bathroom door.

““I feel no sympathy for those who do it to themselves”, sound familiar? Oooo…it stings a little when you are the one on the receiving end of it, huh?” He had to admit that every so often he got a kick out of being able to quote from Char´s extensively insightful book of morals and situational statements that she used whenever she had to get him out of a pickle of a spot.

“Be quiet or go home you big oaf,” Char grumbled as she hauled herself up to the bowl of the toilet. She knew he was right but who in their right mind gives a care for that when they are feeling like hell. Right on time, she thought as her stomach started to kick start itself into heaving up most of its contents.

Surely there has to be an easier way to de-tox, thought Patrick as he rushed forward to grab up her hair as she started to bring up all and sundry. Kneeling down next to her he ran a soothing hand up and down her back as if to ease the process. Given it wasn’t the prettiest sight in the world but she had done the same thing for him on many an occasion.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand Chardonnay leaned over and rested her head on Patrick´s shoulder whilst waiting for her stomach to finally settle down. She closed her eyes for only a second to rest; she would be right as rain in a minute and would get to bed by her own accord. Yeah right, contradicted her brain as her mind got comfortable and went to sleep.

As soon as Patrick heard her breathing deepen and regulate, he knew that he had to get her off the floor so he could move from his half hunched over position. A man could only last so long with a deadweight leaning on him and he in a half sit half kneel spot. He picked her up and carried her through to her bed and placed her on it.

“That is going to wreck her dress,” he stated a matter-of-factly, “it doesn’t count if I only see her back whilst I put on her nightshirt.”

Going against his better judgment, he hunted through her closet till he came across her nightshirt; a bright blue man-sized t-shirt with “hot stuff” printed in white on the front. Typical he thought as he hoisted her up into a sitting position and started un-zipping her at the back. He nearly lost his nerve when he found that she wasn’t wearing a bra with her dress. Slipping the sleeves off her shoulders, he rammed her head through the neckline of the nightshirt and prayed she wouldn’t wake up or move a muscle as he was having a hard time holding her up without putting his arm around her as balance.

Deep breath, nearly there Mate, his Common Sense piped up. Amazing that it only shows up when you least need it and only to state the obvious. Laying her down, after pulling the shirt down till her hips, he tried to get her dress off by sliding the whole of it down her hips. No such luck. I really don´t like this dress right now, he thought as he struggled with it.

“Bloody marvelous! What doesn´t go down must come up,” he muttered as he started pulling the dress upwards whilst shoving the shirt down.

“Who the hell thought that this was a good idea?” he questioned. Finally the dress started cooperating and moving on upwards, only to leave a large expanse of uncovered leg for him to catch his breath on. “Deep breath, you can do this, how many times have you envisioned doing just this to her before?” he asked himself truthfully, but dreaming and actually doing were two very separate things.

Furious with himself, he gave the dress one final yank upwards and very nearly went flying himself. Who in their right mind wears something so tight? Okay, given that it did look stunning but that was not a good excuse. Opening up the covers Patrick rolled her over into the bed and tucked her in. Seeing a stray lock of hair covering her eye he stretched out his hand and smoothed it behind her ear without realizing what he was doing until it was done.

Giving her on last longing stare, he turned and walked out of her pulling the door closed until only a sliver of light would be visible from the other side of the door. Walking back to the lounge he caught sight of Sushi.

“Are you going to behave if I leave you in charge of her?” he questioned as he bent down and picked up the cat. Brushing a hand up and down Sushi´s spine the cat purred contently. “What would you say to sharing your couch with me for the night, huh Sushims?” Better to stay over than try to make his way home so early in the morning and Char and he did have an appointment marked to go and try and find a present for his younger sister, which probably would have to be rescheduled.

Putting Sushi on his pillow on the couch Patrick walked over to the cupboard where the extra sleeping stuff was kept. Getting out a duvet and a pillow he made his way back to the couch feeling every weary bone in his body like he had never felt before. Getting as comfortable as possible on a couch that was too small for him to stretch out fully out on, he started drifting through dreamland, in his opinion the best part of life sometimes where everything could and would happen. The last fleeting thought through his exhausted mind was of Chardonnay’s eyes…..

Chapter 2

Very nice, very nice indeed, thought Patrick when he saw Char paused at the doorway later that night at Giovanni´s. She appeared so alone yet perfectly poised in herself. Confidence and beauty all wrapped up in a black beauty of a dress, not that see need much to make an already beautiful woman even more stunning.

Catching her eye, Patrick stood to meet her at the door with the purpose of escorting her to the table and making introductions. They were two halves that fit perfectly together, both made from the same mould of sorts; they shared the same morals, way of thinking and dark colouring. They complimented each other perfectly, everyone noticed it. As they made their way across the restaurant they were the focus of attention from both sexes.

Arriving at the table, Patrick was unwilling to let her go. His common-sense kicked in then and on went his gentleman´s mode; grinning wickedly to his mates he started the introductions.

"Well you know the old crowd from last time," he said pointing out Joshua, Kyle and Bret and their respective dates who were all part of the old gang.

"This is Shawn Teller, we bumped in to him on the way," he joked while Char greeted the tall blonde who towered over her.

"Jon Silver," came from the red in the corner who looked out of sync with the rest of the group, waved to Char from where he was.

Pointing to a handsome bloke who was walking across from the bar towards them, Patrick nudged Char playfully and whispered into her ear one word that sent shivers up her spine, ”Panther”.

Char knew at that moment that the “panther” who turned out to be Leroy Elrond would be tracking her all night. He was the type of man that women melted over with just a glance their way from him. He was as lethal as his nickname; black hair, bright green eyes, muscled strength that emanated from every part of his body. He sat opposite her the whole night, didn´t say much except for the odd comment here and there. It appeared that his sense of humour was something to be reckoned with by the way he grinned to himself when he thought of something funny but didn’t share it. Probably due to the fact that he was the latest addition to the group through a business deal with Patrick. He had the posture of someone who knew what he wanted in life, set out to get it, and accomplished it.

Leroy spent that night in the diner admiring Chardonnay and wondering how a beauty like that was still single. Was it because of her as she was, as unlikely as that was, or was it something to do with the men she went out with or had yet to meet? Leroy was not interested in a permanent relationship at the moment, he wondered if Char would be up for a little fun with no strings. He was only going to be in town for a couple of weeks before he moved on to his next business.

It was nearly midnight with only several of the group left when Leroy and Char finally managed to sit next to each other and talk. The conversation started on coffee then moved onto chocolate types and other light things. As time ticked by Patrick kept walking back and forth between their table and the table that held the French Dame that had caught his eye before coffee was served.

As lovely as Dame Femme was, all blonde, curvy and very French, Patrick could not help losing track of the topic they were talking about as he kept glancing over at Char and Leroy. He definitely did not like the way the Panther was looking at his girl. His Girl?!? Did he just put a mental claim on Chardonnay? Boy, he was definitely loosing it. He had thought that he was over her by now, sure he still had feelings for her but she was his best friend and all and any bloke in his right mind would feel something for her.

It was on the early side of morning when Patrick finally called a taxi to drive the Dame home and seated himself at the table where Leroy and Char were still at it.

“Can you believe that…um…that Leroy here played for the Saints back in history…..I mean you guys were rivals!” slurred Char to Patrick as he joined in the conversation. Squinting at his wrist watch and not being able to make out the time from so far away, Char grabbed his arm and tried to focus on what the hours were.

“Way past your bedtime, Sugar,” whispered Patrick into her ear, “best we get you home and to bed before Luigi closes up for the night.”

“I can take her home,” suggested Leroy over Chardonnay’s head to Patrick who stared incredulously at him.

“No. You won´t. I invited her and I’ll see her home,” bit out Patrick; the threat audible in his voice, suggesting that Leroy should back off a little.

“No worries boys, I´ll get home….” said Char as she stood up wobbly and tried to make her way to the door, only getting as far as where Luigi was cleaning tables before her knees gave out.

Luigi grabbed her at that particular moment and saved her from making an entire fool of herself as the two men rushed over to lend a hand. In one elegant sweep Patrick had her in his arms and was striding towards the door of the restaurant only to be stopped abruptly when Luigi handed him Char´s handbag and a shoe which had come off in the process. If it had been Leroy who stopped him he would have hurt the guy, business deal or no business deal. That guy definitely had stepped the boundaries.

Chapter 1 1/2

As Chardonnay stood in front of the mirror that night, she started thinking about the day that she had found this particular dress. Of course there was a story behind the little black dress that Patrick loved so much. As every coin has two sides so has any object.

The simplest thing most often has the greatest beauty. That is what Chardonnay thought as she walked past the second hand store on the way to work one day. As she back-tracked to peek closer into what was shown in the window, the dress seemed to speak to her and beckon her. Her psyche answering the call, she entered the shop just as the manager was putting the last touches on the window display.

The lady turned round as the bell tinkled over the door smiling. Chardonnay shuffled closer completely struck dumb by the beauty and the welcoming feeling she was receiving from the shop and its contents.

“The black dress, right?” inquired the lady without as much as a greeting. “You know this dress has a history,” she continued as she started removing the dress from the display, “she who is chosen shall be blessed in love. Sounds a little corny, right? I know, but it´s true. What size are you, love?”

“Um..On the large size of the scale, I guess,” stuttered Chardonnay staring at the tiniest and curviest piece of black material she had ever seen and then at her shoes in embarrassment.

“Straight ahead and turn left to the changing room, love, we want to see what it looks like on you. Run along.” She handed over the dress and started physically directing Chardonnay towards the changing room.

Five minutes later Chardonnay walked out from behind the curtain looking stunned. She had not imagined that it would fit. As she stood looking into the mirror on the wall she realized that the colour black had always made her look more mysterious and intriguing, what with her dark eyes and all. But this was too much. She looked very different to say the least.

“I thought so,” commented the shop lady as she came up behind Chardonnay, “I’m Ms Jay”. She stood behind her with a secret smile showing and a mysterious twinkle in her eye. “A girl always has a dream picture of the three perfect dresses in her mind: the prom dress, the little black dress and the wedding dress. You have already found one of the three. This is the second one and it will lead you to the third.”

Chardonnay´s thoughts were in a jumble, it was like a race was going on in there without a finish line. The dress clung to her curves, was revealing yet covered, simple with an air of sophistication. It was “the little black dress”.

“Do you want it wrapped or are you wearing it out of the shop, love? Do snap out of it, at home you can admire it for as long as you like. When you get out of it, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Half an hour later, Chardonnay was back on her way to work with her new black dress packaged carefully and a jumble of a conversation on her mind. Did that really happen, questioned Chardonnay? Her phone started to ring at that moment: Patrick, it just had to be. Oh boy, what has he done or not done this time she wondered answering the phone.