A thunderstorm was brewing. A dark gray shroud of clouds was spread across the heavens. It was only 5pm but the pervasive darkness made it seem as if time had raced forward that Saturday and it was already past midnight. Ricky was sitting on the suede maroon couch by the window in his bedroom, his shoulders bent over by the weight of a thousand million thoughts. He let the ashes from the cigarette in his right hand fall on the beige carpet below his feet, as he stared outside and forgot to take a drag for several seconds. The sky suddenly reverberated with a deafening sound of thunder, which was quickly followed by Camille's frightened shriek. "Come back to bed, Ricky", she pleaded as she repeatedly lifted her wavy golden tresses with both her hands and pushed them back. Ricky pretended not to hear.
He took another slow long drag and enjoyed the feeling for the next several seconds before letting it out. The muscles all over his body felt like they had been tied tightly into a dozen painful knots. He had tried everything he could possibly think of to fix the problem but had failed, miserably. Now he was beginning to wonder if the way out was to deal with cause, rather than to merely treat the symptoms. But for that, he had to figure out what the real reason behind his mental anguish was.
Camille got out of his bed and traipsed her way to the couch. She picked up a cigarette from the packet on the floor and lit it up, before seating herself on Ricky's lap. She put her arm around his neck and rested her head on his chest as she exhaled. "Let's go back to bed Ricky," she suggested another time and hugged him tighter. "Soon..," he whispered in her ear and slowly moved back into the couch, to give his back support. The new sensory titillation brought on by courtesy of Camille with her vanilla scented fragrance, the silky feel of her baby pink gown and the added cigarette smoke, all failed to de-stress him. His frustration was growing into anger. He stood up without warning, knocking Camille over, walked around the room aimlessly and then finally went into the restroom. He locked the door behind him, let the water run from the faucet and then faced himself in the mirror. He was ready for some serious self - evaluation.
It had been almost a week since Leighton had sent him that ominous email canceling their weekend trip together. He hadn't replied to it nor had he called her back. He couldn't understand why she had refused but more importantly, he couldn't believe that she had! He was not used to taking no for an answer from anyone, for anything. He liked Leighton. She was just the kind of girl he wanted to be with him for the current phase in his life. He had recently been promoted and was moving in a few months to Brussels. He had planned to ask Leighton to come along and as Kara had put it, "play house with him there'. He wasn't about to commit himself to one woman for all of eternity. He knew he would be back in town every now and then and there would be lots of Camilles, Alessandras, Cindys and Mindys to paint the town red with. But Leighton was ruining his plan!
He listened to the sound of the water draining into the sink, it was relaxing. He lit up another cigarette and brought Leighton back into his thoughts. He was sure that she didn't know anything about his Brussels plan or about his other women, which could only mean that she had canceled because she didn't quite feel the way for him as he had wanted her to. He felt his face and the back of his head burning up. He could not digest the thought.
* Knock!! Knock!! *
Camille had been knocking on the door for a while but he only just heard it. "I'm out in a little bit babe.. hang on.. hang on," he yelled over the sound of the running water. He thought she said something back but he couldn't immediately make it out and decided not to try either. "It's not her though.. it's me," he said to himself out loud. "Something is off with me, but what?" he probed. The answer lay within the deep recesses of his mind, he suspected, but how was he going to get it out? If getting to the bottom of this meant that he had to be his own shrink, he was ready and rolling. Ricky had always prided himself in being able to figure women out but Leighton wasn't like the rest of them, she was different. He had known of her forever but it was not until a few months ago that he had had a chance to interact with her on a regular basis and had gotten to know her better. It was around then that his Brussels move was finalized and so everything had fallen into place perfectly or so he had assumed. But she wasn't playing his game and funnily enough, neither was he! Why was he losing his cool and sleep over a girl who he didn't really know and who wasn't even a perfect 10? He had no clue. The knocking got louder and less intermittent.
Was all the work finally getting to him? Was he losing his mind? Or maybe this was the onset of some illness, like a brain tumor? The questions came at him at warp speed. "Or.. God forbid.. am I falling in love?" he laughed at the suggestion. Then for a brief second, he felt as if he heard a reply from somewhere deep within him but shook it off right away. "Love shmuv!" he scoffed as he put his cigarette out and washed his hands.
"I really need to go Ricky, OPEN UP!" Camille screamed at the top of her lungs. "Four other bathrooms but she's gotta use this one," he chuckled and finally opened the door. He looked into Camille's bright green eyes and gave her an ear-to-ear smile. "Are you gonna be as long as I was?" he enquired in jest. "There's a lot to do before dinner and we can't afford to waste any more time!" he said cheerfully, with a naughty twinkle in his eye.
"Lucky lucky me!" Camille giggled like a shy school girl, wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big delicious kiss.
