My White Ex Soldier

Chapter 3

Two weeks went by and Desiree was still playing her Taylor and Mark cards pretty damn well. She had gone from being an insecure girl, as far as dating was concerned, to a confident young woman. She was still unsure about a lot of things. Was Mark the better option because he was so much wealthier? Or was Taylor’s geeky charm getting to her?

All this time, she had not mentioned to her roommates, who were also the only family she had, that neither of the two men knew what she did for a living. The catering story was actually just that, a story. Maybe one day she would quit what she did for a living and actually just do catering, but she was a long way from achieving that. All she knew how to do presently was what she did: helping customers and stacking shelves at the local supermarket. She never thought that was a very prestigious thing to brag about. If anything, she tried her best to hide that fact. While working at Sally’s Mart paid the bills and put food on the table, Desiree always thought that she was bound for greater things, definitely not being in a boring uniform all her life. There was simply no way she could ever be satisfied just being there. She loved to cook. She loved how much people enjoyed her cooking and her baking, and she dreamed of the day she would open up her own little place.

Since her very spontaneous oral sex with Mark in the countryside, she had met him again twice: once for dinner and another time for breakfast. He seemed to genuinely like her and she liked him too except for the little sour notes here and there of him trying to boss her around. Desiree thought that he was probably too used to being in control and that it came naturally for him. All the same, she did not like it. And another thing, he was not very nice to waiters. For someone who claimed to have come from humble beginnings, he sure had never learned the principle of not pissing off people who handle your food.

On one occasion, Desiree had mentioned to him that he needed to be a little more patient with service people.

“You know they usually have so much to do and are under a lot of pressure,” she said sympathetically. She personally hated it when someone was rude to her or any of the supermarket attendants. To Desiree, people like Mark always thought that they were better than everyone. It was almost as if they never went through what working people went through.

“Wow, Young. Care much?” he asked jokingly. Desiree felt a rage go through her.

“Actually, yes. I do care. They are just as human as we are and they deserve to be treated with respect,” she said looking at him. At that point, Mark suddenly realized that she was not kidding around.

“Oh my God, you are serious,” he said looking at her. His smile had now disappeared. In its place was a shameful frown. “I’m sorry,” he said. Desiree shook her head.

“It is not me you need to apologize to,” she said. After that encounter, Desiree was particularly wary of Mark. He was clearly no longer the nice man she had met. He was getting comfortable around her and maybe this character, this animalistic human being, was who he really was.

A few days went by after the restaurant encounter. Desiree had actually pushed the entire thing to the back of her mind. Mark seemed to have transformed, at least when they were together. And Taylor, well, he still called her frequently, almost daily actually. They had only met once for coffee since they met at Capriccio. He was the complete opposite of Mark and by the way her cousin spoke of him, definitely Cynthia’s choice.

On this particular Tuesday, Desiree was looking forward to the end of her shift. Mark had hinted of something special to make up for not seeing her all weekend since he was held up in Vermont; something about clients and mergers. She never really understood what he talked about half the time. All she knew was that she was excited for some strange reason. She was clearly more drawn to Mark than she thought. It had only been four days since she saw him but she felt like it was an eternity. As she walked home that evening, she thought of all the things he might come up with. A dinner, a picnic…but it was so late and cold so maybe not. She smiled when she thought of being in his muscular arms, inhaling his strong, masculine scent.

When she got home, she was pleased to find that she was all alone. She ran to the bathroom and took a quick shower before she walked to her closet. Since she had no idea of what Mark had planned, she did not know what would come across as appropriate attire. Jeans could be too casual or just right, depending on the situation at hand. A dress would come across as trying too hard. She was spoiled for choices. She finally settled on a pink flowered sleeveless top and a pair of neon blue pants. She matched this with a pair of pink platform heels and a yellow clutch bag.

She looked at her reflection and smiled. The first time she did this color combination she thought she looked like a Christmas tree until she learned the difference between color clashing and color blocking. What she was doing today was actually the latter. She straightened her hair and wore it down. People always thought she looked sophisticated this way. For her makeup, she always focused on her eyes. She did a pale pink, barely noticeable color on her eyelids and then coupled this with dark eyeliner. She then used a little mascara to make her eyes pop before she slowly dabbed some pink lipstick on her lips. She thought of doing blush but then thought it was wise not to.

“You are dressing for a date and it does not pay per hour.” Those were the exact words Rochelle would have used if she had been there.

As she made her way to the living room, she got some lip gloss from her purse and carefully used the wand to give her lips that luscious look. As she slowly made her way to the living room, she heard the doorbell. She smiled as she headed towards the door.

“Perfect timing,” she thought as she opened the door for Mark. “Hi there,” she greeted him excitedly. For some reason, she thought he looked a bit distressed. “For a person who is meant to make up for lost time, you do not look up for it,” she said as he walked into the house. She slowly made her way into the house cautiously walking after him.

“I’m sorry. I have just been a bit tired today. It’s been one of those days,” he said as he sat down. She walked up to the couch and took a seat next to him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. He took a long deep breath and leaned back. Desiree looked at him, her suspense growing. “You can tell me anything,” she said again, wondering what would make such a man have such distress.

“I hate having to tell you this, Desiree,” Mark began. Desiree shook her head. What was he talking about?