During the next few days, Seattle lapsed into stereotypical weather patterns characteristic of the Northwest. Rain fell in unending sheets from overcast skies making the streets darkly slick and the cobblestones more than a little hazardous while torrents created steady waterfalls of liquid sunshine flowing from the awnings stretched across many a storefront.
The constant, calming staccato of rain drops on the roof and windowpanes provided the city’s own brand of rhythmic background music, a welcome element as Chemelyn sat once again immersed in her studio and plans for the forthcoming exhibit. Brow furrowed in single minded concentration, her focus never wavered from the painting on the easel in front of her. She cocked her head to one side as she studied the work she had finished the year before. It was one of the pieces Radiance had found appealing though Chemelyn just couldn’t find it within herself to be satisfied. Mistakes and imperfections glared back at her from the canvas, bare and bright in the face of possible criticism.
“Hey you.”
Chemelyn jumped in her seat, startled by the sudden appearance of Howie at her side. His expression turned to one of concern as he quickly apologized for giving her a fright.
“I didn’t even hear you come in,” she admitted sheepishly, taking in his rain streaked coat, damp hair and stocking clad feet which told her he’d left his shows by the door.
“Lost in your thoughts, were you?” Howie ventured, squatting down on his haunches beside her chair.
“More or less. It’s just so frustrating. I thought it would be easy; choose a few paintings, take them down to Expressions, and show up for the debut celebration. But there’s so much more to it than that,” Chemelyn turned helpless eyes to the man next to her who promptly covered both of her hands with his own. “I want to make a good impression. I want them to like my work, not pass it en route to the exit.”
Howie reached out to gently brush a strand of nutmeg hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Chem, honey, no one’s going to write you off, here. But you do have to realize that you’re not going to be able to please everybody. The most important thing you need to focus on, is how your presentation makes you feel as a person, an artist.”
Chemelyn digested his words and covered her eyes with a grown.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asked in amusement.
“Make so much sense all the time?”
Howie chuckled modestly and shook his head. “Come on, let’s get your mind off this deal for a while. Wanna take a look at what I’ve got planned for the evening?” He flashed her a boyish grin and tugged her to her feet. Clasping Chemelyn’s palm in his own, Howie led her to the kitchen where two soaking paper bags sat limply on the counter. “Now, I thought we could spend tonight cuddling in front of the fire, bundled in your quilt, while watching a few movies I took the liberty of renting. We’re got all the essentials: An Affair to Remember, Shakespeare in Love, and my personal favorite,” he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her body close to his own as he reached inside the second bag. She laughed when she saw the movie jacket.
“Sleepless in Seattle.” Chemelyn finished, then looped her arms about Howie’s neck, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “Oh, you’re good.”
“I know,” he grinned in reply, tossing the video on the marble counter and settling his arms more comfortably, encircling her hips loosely, “and I’m not even done yet. I also picked up dinner at the Deli and stopped by the cafe for some French Vanilla coffee.”
“You thought of everything, all right.” she acknowledged happily.
“Uh huh. Do I get a prize?” A devilish gleam surfaced in the depths of his mocha orbs.
“Well, Mr. Dorough, that all depends on what you’re asking for,” Chemelyn teased, enjoying the way his fingers curled at the hem of her paint splattered men’s dress shirt, hiking it up just enough to slip his hand inside, pressing the flat of his palm against the small of her back.
“I think you know what I want,” his voice was husky, his breath hot on her skin, the combination of the two sending shivers down her back. At times like these, both wondered if they’d be able to wait for Brian McKnight.
Chemelyn’s head tipped back of it’s own violation, giving Howie access to her lips which he didn’t waste time taking advantage of. After a moment of blissful caresses -the melding of mouths, light exploration of hands- she forced herself to pull reluctantly away, eliciting a noise of protest from him, as he continued to nuzzle her neck with his face, nipping her skin gently.
“I’m sorry,” Chemelyn murmured, eyes drifting halfway shut even as she applied light pressure to his chest with one palm. “As much as I’d love to stay here in your arms, I need to get back to work. I have an appointment with Radiance in the morning to give her my decisions......if you don’t stop I’ll be up a creek without a paddle.
“Sounds like a nice place to be,” Howie mumbled, pausing long enough to lift his face so she could see the grin spread across his lips.
“You’re a bad influence,” she laughed, shaking her head, “but I am serious. I’m no closer to choosing the featured pieces in my exhibit now, than I was four days ago.”
“Okay,” Howie gently disentangled from Chemelyn, and stepped back to lean against the counter. “You know why this is turning out to be so difficult for you? Because you’re much too intent on making sure each contribution is perfect. The thing is, Chem, perfection doesn’t have any soul, any currant that drives the piece. Now, if there’s anyone who has soul to spare, it’s Chemelyn Clavaro. When you take that element out of your work, it becomes just another colorful canvas and not your manifestation of spirit. Honor the imperfections, honey, because that’s what makes your paintings unique, so much like yourself.”
“But the critics might not see it that-”
“Screw the critics. You don’t get ahead in any business by worrying about what a bunch of stuffed shirts think. Worry about you and how you feel in here,” he placed his hand over her heart, “Don’t sell yourself short, Chem.”
The seriousness lifted from his features then, as he made a concerted effort to alleviate her insecurities through the fine art of distraction. “Since I now know you’ve been working way too long in front of that cursed easel, I’m canceling our plans for a quiet evening in,” Chemelyn opened her mouth to protest but Howie charged ahead, not giving her time to get a word in edgewise, “because I know what the end result would be. I’d remain on the couch watching a timeless romance and you’d be sneaking trips into the studio. In light of that fact, we’re going out.”
“Out?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
“I’m going to call Malone and Derik to assist then jet back to the Fremont to change. That gives you about,” Howie glanced at his watch, “an hour to make yourself beautiful, though you certainly won’t have to try very hard. Personally, I’d whisk you away just as you are but something tells me you wouldn’t be overly appreciative.”
He pressed a brief, uncommonly chaste kiss to her lips before turning on his heel and heading for the door and his Oxfords.
“Do I get any say in this?” Chemelyn called, having more than a little difficulty keeping the laughter out of her voice.
“Nope,” came the cheerful reply.
“And that kiss is all I get?” she mewed plantetively, following Howie to the entryway just as he slipped his left foot into the correct shoe and adjusted his right.
“I like to think of it as incentive.”
“You’re a tease, Howard.”
“And you work enough for the both of us put together. Go get ready,” he admonished, planting a second kiss on her cheek before starting down the stairwell.
“What am I supposed to do with the take out?” Chemelyn called in a last ditch effort.
“Give it to the cat!”
*****
Howie smoothed the fabric across his thighs, then made an imperceptible adjustment to the way his collar lay. Running his fingertips through the dark curls which hung loose, barely brushing his shoulders, he made a conscious effort to quell the ball of anxiety, heavy in the pit of his stomach. While his plans for the evening had been inspired and spontaneous, and though he treasured every memory he and Chemelyn made, the fact remained that they had spent little time together in a largely social atmosphere. With a start, Howie realized that until tonight, they had never spent an evening in Seattle enjoying the cornucopian night life. The play they had seen together so many months ago hardly counted; at that point, he had still been intent upon impressing Chemelyn as “Dwaine”. What a far distance they had come since.
While the ethereal aspect of their relationship remained intact, the beauty of it all became more apparent with each passing day. Through letters, hesitant encounters, and personal discoveries, they had traveled. From romantic confidentiality to a passionate, classic love affair, they had evolved. And now, here he was, standing outside of her downtown loft, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and anticipatory excitement in his heart.
An antique mirror with a tarnished brass frame hung in the corridor leading to her apartment; Howie stole a glimpse of his own reflection. The tasteful black suit he wore was perfectly tailored, one of the perks of having a personal stylist. They royal blue silk shirt beneath his jacket was open at the collar, exposing a portion of his olive skin, so beautiful in contrast next to the material of his attire.
Howie’s ensemble had been a careful, calculated selection essential in his plan intended to help Chemelyn forget her worries. The kind of pressure she imposed upon herself was unhealthy -something someone of his profession understood only too well. That was why he had enlisted the help of Malone and Derik in planning and executing tonight’s activities. It had not been without it’s difficulties, but the three had managed to pull together a dinner reservation in under an hour’s time. Not to mention the half a dozen florists Howie had visited at the Market in an effort to locate a bouquet of lilies, Chemelyn’s favorite flower, this time of year. In the end, an floral shop with plenty of hothouse suppliers had been his saving grace, situated only one block from the cafe, three from the loft. With a sigh and a final once over in the mirror, Howie reached for the door knob but fell short, opting instead to ring the bell. After all, this was their first social engagement of this nature and it deserved a little extra finesse. As he waited for her to answer to door, he let his mind wander to the opulent, sensational, often exhibitional industry shindigs that record executives and chart topping artists were so fond of throwing. Briefly, he wondered how Chemelyn would fair. Howie smiled of the possibility of such an event in the future, but the expression soon segued into an unreadable mask as all coherent thought soon fled from his mind when the solid oak door opened. He was speechless.
Chemelyn stood before him, radiant in a body hugging shirt in all shades of blue, mingling like an azure rainbow. A floor length black skirt clung to her figure in all the right places, effectively rendering Howie breathless. Apparently, she had picked up on the significance of their excursion and had dressed accordingly. Without a word, he extended the cluster of blossoms with a regal little bow. The twinkle in his eyes gave him away, and Chemelyn couldn’t repress the smile which soon adorned her lovely features.
“You look stunning, Chem,” he told her softly, watching her finger the petal of a lily in something akin to awe.
“You’re quite the debonair tonight, aren’t you?” she teased, moving into his embrace with an ease that had been established between them over the course of the previous two weeks. “I can’t believe you found these.”
Howie wrapped his arms around her waist, taking her free hand in his, planting kisses up the inner length of her wrist and forearm, pressing an occasional caress to her palm. “Did you know they name flowers? This hybrid is called Aruba.”
“It’s gorgeous....I’m not sure I even want to know what you had to do to get these.”
He grinned mischievously. “What can I say? I know people.”
“Oh really?” she scoffed in good humor, “and just who do you know in Seattle?”
“If I told you that I’d have to kill you. And believe me, Chemelyn, that would be a crying shame.”
The musical symphony of their laughter floated down the stairwell and rang throughout the loft. Their hearts, their minds, and even their laughter fit together as if they were meant to be. It was a wonderful beginning to what was sure to be an unforgettable evening.
*****
“So, where are we headed?” Chemelyn queried casually as Howie circled the same block for the third time.
“It’s a surprise,” he answered distractedly then muttered, “At least, it will be if I can find the damn place.”
Stifling a giggle, she returned her gaze to the view outside her window, the lights of the city outshining the brilliance of the stars. While she had known his intentions, the fact that he was doing all of this for her, still clenched tightly with sweet pressure on her heart. Howie was, undoubtedly, the most thoughtful man she’d ever met, let alone dated. And though he continuously proved himself to be everything her soul desired, the thrill of his affectionate acts remained fresh.
“Chem?” came his voice from the driver’s seat. “How good is Malone at giving directions?”
Chemelyn laughed loudly. “About as good as a one legged man in a butt kicking contest, why?”
Howie chuckled at her analogy and passed her a slip of paper with a nearly illegible message scrawled across it. “If I tell you where we’re going, will you pretend to be pleased to save what little dignity I have left?”
“Aw,” Chemelyn smiled tenderly, placing her hand on his knees and rubbing softly. “And here I thought you’d been blessed without a male ego.”
Howie’s eyes narrowed in mock anger, “If I had known taking you out for a night on the town would turn you into such a feisty little thing,” his gaze lightened, “I’d have done it sooner. You’re sexy when you’re sassy.”
“Thanks,” she returned wryly, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple as the car pulled to a halt at a stoplight. “Now, where to?”
“The Dahlia Lounge. Malone said it was somewhere along 3rd.”
“Are you serious?”
“What? Yeah, he said-”
“Howie, Dahlia Lounge is a pretty expensive restaurant. He told you that, didn’t he?”
“Actually, yes. And I wanted it that way. This is your night, Chemelyn; I’m determined to do everything in my power to make you forget about your troubles. Besides, I love you.” It was the most roundabout endearment they’d ever exchanged, but that couldn’t suppress the surge of emotion she felt upon hearing those three little words. the feeling was euphoric, as if that single utterance had moved heaven and earth. It didn’t seem to matter where they were spoken -not even at a traffic light in downtown Seattle- only the man who said them.
“It’s not your fault Malone doesn’t know how to verbally lead someone around the city. He was close, though. It’s 4th, not 3rd. Take a left here.”
“Will do.”
With Chemelyn dictating directions, Howie navigated the car into a nearby parking garage, situated only a block away from the posh establishment. Hurrying around to her side of the vehicle, Howie helped her out with a flourish, even to this day as chivalrous as he had been at the beginning of their romance.
The couple made it into the impressive Dahlia Lounge with little trouble and were soon ensconced in a private booth, obviously the best in the house. Chemelyn did not fail to notice, and tucked that observation into the back of her mind.
Later that evening, as Howie and Chemelyn feasted upon the restaurant’s specialty crab cakes and apricot chicken, respectively, she dared broach a subject which had long been plaguing her.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything, you know that,” Howie assured her softly, correctly sensing the serious inflection in her voice.
“Well, I guess I should preface my question by letting you know that I listened to your radio interview last week,” she began, giving unprecedented attention to her entree. He, wisely, said nothing in response, simply waited for her to continue, “and I was a little......”
“Surprised?” Howie ventured after a moment.
“More like ill prepared. I mean, I just never knew....it’s a lot to digest...”
Laying aside his fork, he leaned forward, giving the woman across the table his undivided attention. “Are you talking along the lines of my career, or the interview in general?”
“Both. Well, your career in the sense that I never knew it was so extensive, and the interview in that, some of the questions the DJ posed were so....personal.”
“Ah,” he settled back in the booth, “I see. Well, it’s my fault then, for not taking the initiative to share more with you about what I do for a living. In all honesty, I’ve enjoyed not having to talk about my career choice with you. It’s selfish, I know, but I don’t want to have to share you with my avocation.”
“Then, let’s forget I mentioned it, alright?”
“No,” Howie interjected, raising a hand to forestall Chemelyn’s hurried retreat, “the last thing I want for you to be is uncomfortable. I’m actually wondering why you didn’t come to me about this sooner.”
“I managed to keep my mind off of things with all the work that needs to be done and truthfully, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.”
Howie frowned and reached for her hands across the table. “Please, don’t ever feel we can’t discuss something, anything. You must have questions. What do you want to know first?”
“For starters, where and how does our relationship fit into this equation? What happens if I go to you in Florida for a visit? Will we have to be confined to your home, or can we do as we please? Do you have a bodyguard? If so, why isn’t he here? Or is he and I just haven’t seen him? Is our relationship going to elicit a negative reaction from your fans? Am I going to get hate mail?” The tirade spilled forth from the depths of Chemelyn’s mind in a matter of seconds, stunning both of them into silence. It lasted only several moments before Howie began to laugh.
“Let’s tackle one thing at a time. Us. Our relationship is still our relationship. We don’t have to reveal anything to the fans just yet, but we need to be prepared for the day we do by discussing what we’re comfortable with them knowing about you, about us. As far fetched as it may seem, fans will actually demand to know your complete identity, Chem, and I want to save you from the glare of the spotlight as much as I can. I don’t want you to have to sit in the hot seat, or be in my position. I guess what I really want is to keep you to myself. But that’s about as realistic as the idea of a man in the moon.” Howie paused briefly, concentrating on his own thumb stroking the skin of her hand as he gathered his thoughts. “As I told the DJ, we’re free to have relationships. But with that freedom comes a price, and people don’t always stop before it’s gone to far.”
Chemelyn took a sip of her water, her hand shaking with the intensity of their conversation. Howie took one look at her and abandoned his own side of the booth in favor of sliding in next to her. They sat closely, once again twining their fingers together beneath the table.
“I will say one thing, though. I’m exceedingly glad to hear that you’re thinking along the lines of an excursion to my neck of the woods. Everyone’s dying to meet you; you should hear some of the messages the guys and my family are leaving on my voicemail,” Howie laughed in fond remembrance of his loved ones, while Chemelyn visualized meeting them for the first time.
“That makes me nervous too, the impending rendezvous with your family. I’ll have to meet them eventually,” she added dolefully. Howie shook his head with a good natured grin.
“You’ve nothing to worry about, Chem. They’ll love you, just like I do.”
“Well, then they’ll surely be able to see that the feeling is entirely mutual.” She accented her statement by pressing a soft kiss to his jaw and whispering three important words in his ear. He smiled and shifted her closer to his side.
“Lost your fear of intrusive observation by my bodyguard, huh?” he teased, then laughed again at the worrisome expression on her face. “Relax, honey, there’s no security along with me. It’s just the two of us. Always has been.”
“That’s a relief. Do any of the other guys have girlfriends?”
“Actually, yes. They’ve each found their special someone, though Nick is currently experiencing a rough spot in his relationship.”
“Who’s Nick?”
“The blonde one,” Howie responded with a satisfied chuckle. He never thought he’d see the day when a woman didn’t swoon over his cherubic band mate.
“Oh, right. I vaguely remember him from the magazine Malone bought for me,” Chemelyn mumbled, then swiftly slapped a palm over her mouth.
“What was that?” Howie asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed, mouth quirked.
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought. Spill it.”
“You have to promise not to laugh,” she sighed in resignation, “Malone got tired of hearing about how much I missed you, so he and all of the other employees came up with an ingenious plan to shut me up. They each bought a different magazine with a picture of you on the cover, during their lunch breaks. By the end of the rotations, I had five glossy photos of you. Pathetic, isn’t it?” she grimaced.
“More like adorable. Here, if it makes you feel any better, I carry a picture of you in my wallet.” To prove his case, Howie brought forth the black leather bundle and extracted a well worn photograph of the two of them in the cafe. “See? You’ve been to Germany, France, Italy, the Netherlands, all over the world with me.”
“All over the world.....” Chemelyn echoed, running her finger along the edge of the picture. “What about the women?” she asked suddenly.
“Come again?”
“In other countries? You know, the groupies, the fans, the countless females who must be dying just to be near you, much less.....” Chemelyn couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, having lain awake some nights while Howie was away, letting such thoughts get the best of her. She knew in her heart that he had been faithful, and had managed to supress such curiosities for the longest time, but it was a question she now felt compelled to pose, if even for her own peace of mind.
“Chem, look at me,” Howie demanded, turning her to face him by placing his index finger under her chin. “I have always been faithful. Always. But I’ll be honest with you - there were plenty of willing women. There always are....however, just because they were there didn’t mean I had to accept. Believe me, I didn’t even want to look at another woman let alone......”
“Please understand, I don’t think the worst of you,” Chemelyn’s eyes grew watery as a wave of relief washed over her, “But with you so far away-”
Howie didn’t let her finish, choosing instead to slice through meaningless words with a searing kiss that left no doubt in her mind that she’d been the only woman on his. Giving herself up to the sensation of his hot mouth pressed fiercely to hers, Chemelyn threw her inhibitions and fears to the wind as she felt the love and affection flow between them.
“I’m forever yours and yours alone. This I promise you.”
She looked into his eyes as he made the feverent vow, and just before their lips met again, she murmured the phrase that began it all, over a year ago, “Dear friend....”
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Thank you for all of your support in this venture. I really appreciate hearing from you (the readers), and the response garnered by chapter 10 was amazing! It's truly an inspiration to know so many of you enjoy reading about Howie and Chemelyn; you have my deepest thanks for your kind words.
~Jessi
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