"...Jazz you were brought in my life to fulfill a purpose."
Jasmin and The Artist; what they do not realize yet is that they need each other.
What happens when two broken people cross paths by chance?
They're both in search of true inner peace...
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Resting my head in the crook of my elbow as I leaned against the back of the chaise, I mindlessly watched the rain streak the window pane. Watching the rain nourish God's greenery that was Central Park, I would occasionally sit up and peer down to see the view the beneath us. 39 stories below, the few taxis looked like tiny yellow bugs scurrying down the damp city streets.
The weather plaguing the city that never sleeps was a drastic comparison to what it was last night. The city is somber now. Flying in yesterday afternoon, his assistant Stephanie and I went to pick out a dress at Bergdorf's before me and P went out later that night. True to his fashion, he reserved a quiet corner of Per Se restaurant complete with candlelight and a breathtaking view of the city. Soft classical music playing in the distance only added to the romantic ambience.
While I scanned the room and took in my surroundings, he had scooted his chair closer to me and leaned in. "You're so beautiful." As his warm breath tickled against my earlobe, I couldn't help but shrug my shoulder and giggle.
Well-versed in this lifestyle, he didn't think much of anything when the waitress brought out the first of nine courses. Waiting until she retreated from our table, I tried to control my facial expression as I looked on at the tiny portion of what I believe was a Nut Custard with Pickled Radishes.
Unfortunately, he could read the perplexed look in my eyes. "Jazz, I know it's not your cup of tea but try it you may like it." I was none to convinced I would like any of that French cuisine but I gave it a chance. I know he was just trying to treat me to a nice night out, but I would've been content with Chili's or Waffle House.
The night was redeemed when he took me to see the new musical Marie Christine on Broadway.
Riding back to the hotel, our initial critiques of the musical led into a discussion of our families common origin of Louisiana and how he has always been curious about retracing his ancestry. Briefly mentioning his mother Mattie and his father John, I wanted to know more about his family but his sudden change in topic led me to believe that wasn't a subject he wanted to delve into.
Retiring to our penthouse suite, we submerged ourselves in the warm frothy waters of our clawfoot bathtub and bathed each other.
Resting my chin and the palm of my right hand against his bare chest, I found myself wide awake after our romp in the sheets. Delicately tracing my fingers along his buttery smooth butterscotch skin, my index finger wandered to the defined outline of the V cut in his hips. I was tempted to pull back the thin cotton sheets draped over his lower half, however I retraced my movements and rested my hand flat on his rippling chest.
