Slowly, Benny slid the razor across his shaving cream-smeared cheek to shape his beard. It was fresh and soft, his dexterous fingers guided the razor with precision, years had given him the experience since he was used to doing it on his own. Once done with the right side he passed to the left cheek, but right before starting he sighed loudly and put the razor down on the sink. Frustrated. Confused. "Stop it." He scolded himself.
Benny looked at his reflection in the mirror; a man with a white shirt, doing his guy stuff yeah, but there was more in his eyes. "Stop it." He repeated in an attempt to make his brain understand. But it wasn't working. He was in a permanent status of wonder since he saw her there; leaning against the railing, all alone, all mysterious and divine. Her silhouette caught his male attention, but as soon as he saw her eyes, and as soon as she began talking... Oh, that voice! Silky. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't impressed by her beauty, and he certainly would have tried to persuade her if it wasn't for the fact that soon he discovered she was married. Frida was a married woman. He accepted it and abandoned any plan, as the honorable man he was. Yet so, it was getting difficult.
Since she appeared this morning outside his flat, Frida became a constant thought. Benny was intrigued, curious, she emanated an aura of purity, innocence, she remained reserved all the time, and the way she flushed... It awakened a strange sensation in him. Benny witnessed more than once how she contained herself, how she held back her nerves, even if she tried he caught her. He knew women very well. But despite all the women he'd met, Frida arose a new curiosity in him.
Benny couldn't quite explain why he offered himself to drive her, although any honorable man would do so, right? But it didn't end there, he tried hard to make her feel comfortable as an instinct, but also as a priority. He tried to convince himself he'd do exactly the same for any other woman. But when they arrived at the car workshop... It was as simple as saying goodbye, but that damn impulse! He gave her his contact card. What for?! What did he expect? Sure her husband would ask questions if he found the card, and the least Benny intended was to cause trouble. That wasn't very wise to say. Besides, what would Frida think of him? Maybe that he was a psychopath.
<<<Keep this in case you need anything.>>>
How could he possibly help her? She had a man, he didn't know who he was but sure enough the guy was well-off if they met at Clayton's dinner. But how little he cared, because contacting the service, driving her there and giving her his number wasn't enough. Benny called Max and asked him the favor of sending the bill to him, as a courtesy to her. That went a bit far... or too far. But he wasn't thinking straight... and that's exactly what set off his alarms. Frida was a gorgeous woman, indeed, but there was something else about her, something that lightened the bulb on him. If she contacted him again, only to say thank you...
"Leave her alone." Benny pointed his index finger at his image in the mirror; his pupils were more dilated and his nostrils wider as his breath quickened. "Forget her." Benny straightened up and sighed, willing to regain control of himself.
***
"Thank you very much, Alice." Frida thanked her old lady after she handed her a cup of linden tea. Every night after bathing, Frida would drink her imperative tea, it helped her sleep peacefully all night straight. After a couple of months struggling with insomnia and bad humor during the morning, she found the perfect remedy, so tea was almost obligatory.
"You're welcome, madam." Alice gave her a smile. "I hope you have a good night."
"Same to you, Alice." Frida winked at her and left the huge, almost immaculate, kitchen. The place was a dream, just as the rest of the house, it felt like a palace, but sadly sometimes like a cage. Frida took the long spiral stairs, being careful not to step on her long beige silk robe on the way up, she wore her camel slippers to match and her dark brown hair loose.
