The Office Curve

B*****s Be Like...

Now, I know what a dying man in the desert feels like, hungry vultures circling above him with the scalding sand below him.

The prospect of finding elegant wedding dresses for my sister and I took a backseat to burning question of who the hell was that man in my apartment wearing nothing but a towel.  Granted, they were kind enough to wait for him to leave before they attacked me, but they attacked me nonetheless. 

Kaim, for this part, didn't give me to them willingly.  He dressed himself a little too slowly, and once he did leave, he gave me a gentle, lingering kiss. My sister tried to cut it off by clearing her throat - he wouldn't budge.  If fact, it took about five tries for him to finally get the message- and I'm quite sure that was intentional.

"See you later tonight, or sooner if you need the help," he whispered to me before he left.  "I have a feeling it's sooner."

"I have a feeling you're right," I told him, already feeling weary from it all.

Once on the other side of my bedroom door, they ran the gamut of questions - the ones usually asked when when a lady begins a relationship with a man.

Or another lady, depending on your particular persuasion.

"What's his name?"

"Where's he from?"

"What's his sign?"

"Where does he work?"

"What's he like?"

"How much money does he make?"

"What car does he drive?"

"How big is his house?"

What the hell, you nosy women?!  Mind your own damn business!

I kept mum.  I told him his name and that we were making a go of it but that's all I said.  I wasn't ready to share - I didn't like the idea of sharing my relationship with Kaim to anyone else.  It made sense to do that with my co-workers, save for Rachael.  I didn't fancy a manic mob of hormonal females ripping me apart like those that poor schmuck who was ripped apart by a mob of oppressed handmaids.  I could have told them the truth about everything but the urge to protect my blossoming romance with quite possibly the most perfect man alive was much stronger.  They weren't exactly banging down my door, concerned about me when I was single - no, they were too busy with their respective lovey-kins.  Why would they care now?

"While I appreciate your concern, we should focus on finding the right dress for the wedding," I told them both as politely as I could after getting dressed.  I really wanted to pimp slap them both.  "I know you want your day to be very special mom, and finding the perfect bridesmaid dresses can help do just that."

"Well then you might as well tell us about him now," my sister said, snide as ever.  "Everything looks good on me, of course, but you - finding a dress for you might be a little - tricky."

Well, fuck you, too!  "Finding a dress that flatters me is much easier than finding a way to dressing up that ugly ego of yours."

"What?"

I smirked.  "What?"

"You two need to quit that right now," my mom piped in, her "I'm the Mom, don't mess with me, I don't care how old you are" tone that quieted me right up.  Karyn, on the other hand, looked like she had a few more barbs she was willing to trade.  "I will not have you two acting like damned fools.  My wedding, I'm paying for these dresses, so you follow my rules, you hear me?"

"Yes, mom."  I couldn't get rid of that smirk, even if I tried.

"Of course, mom," my dear sister hissed under her breath.  She may have been put in her place, but she's still angry.  I can practically see the venom running down her chin.  "This day is all about you and your wedding.  Zara should remember that, too."

"Uh, hello, you're the ones that came into my apartment unannounced," I pointed out.  "I'm not responsible for the sights you've seen that may require eye bleach later."

"Girl, I've seen you naked since the day you were born.  You didn't show me anything I haven't already seen.  And I don't think I'll be needing the bleach since your 'friend' was quite easy on the eyes."

"Ooh, imma tell Charles!" I teased my mom.  "Looking at other men before the wedding - shameless!"

"I am doing no such thing," my mom protested while giggling.  "I can look, can't I?  I'm already full with steak, and while I'm eyeing the cake, it doesn't mean I'm trying to order it, if you know what I mean."

"Yes."  I had no idea what she meant.  I had an idea, but no real confirmation.

"Anyway, the real question is why a man like that is with woman like you?"  I swear, if my mother weren't there in the room with me, I'd go hunting for my ceramic knife.  "It hardly seems plausible."

"Karyn," my mother warned.

"No, no, it's okay Mom."  I walked over to my sister, eyes narrow as I fought the urge to swipe at her.  "It's a valid question for her to ask.  She is my big sister after all, so of course, it's natural for her to be protective of me."

"That's one way of putting it."  My sister wasn't fooling anybody.  She'd probably push me in front of a moving bus if it meant she'd get a pair of designer shoes for doing so. 

Not that I wouldn't do the same thing.

"Well, Karyn, let me put it to you like this," I began quietly.  "Some guys like a long, narrow highway, safe to drive, reliable, maybe even easy on the eyes.  But at the end of the day, it's just a long, narrow highway that predictable and stale.  On the other hand, some guys - "  I left my hands move down the curve of my hips for full effect, " - some guys enjoy the thrill of driving a highway with curves.  A little bit exciting, quite tenacious, and never lacking in freshness.  And while others might look at it and go 'why the hell would you want to try that?', some guys, like the one I came out of the shower with, look at it and go 'why the hell not'?

"So, my dear sister Karyn," I concluded with a playful wink, "do you understand what I'm saying now?"

The slits of her eyes and the imaginary steam blowing out of her ears told me that what came out of her mouth would be a complete lie.  "No, I don't understand what I'm saying.  Only Jesus is allowed to speak in parables, not you."

I sighed heavily, headed for the door.  She's not going to ruin my day.  I'll sit on her and crush her lungs first.  "Let's go buy some dresses, shall we?"

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Author's Note: Short Update, I know.  I'm tired, I need to rest.  More over the weekend, I promise.  Thank you.