Off the Bus Ch. 01

His eyes were blue. This impossible shade of sapphire that seemed unreal, they were so clear and bright. It was the only thing she could focus on when they were together. His hair was dark, either dark brown or black.

"Jay," he whispered into her ear. She pressed herself into his broad, naked chest and inhaled. He smelled incredible, a cologne that she couldn't place. She'd never been able to find it in the stores and she had been searching for a long time.

"Yeah," she breathed looking up into those azure pools, lidded with long, dark eyelashes.

"This is gonna happen," he said putting a hand up to her cheek. "It's gonna work."

She smiled and hugged him, pressing her cheek to his bare chest. "I know."

Then, the beeping started.

Jolie Williams rolled away from her alarm clock, ducked under her pillow and pressed it to her ear. "No, no, no," she moaned. It wasn't time to get up. She didn't want her dream to end.

The beeping got louder, breaching the protection of her pillow. "Damn."

Jolie tossed aside the pillow and swung her legs off the bed. She turned off the blaring alarm and trudged into the bathroom. She couldn't put it off any longer. Her day had begun, whether she liked it or not. She hopped in the shower and thought about her dream.

The mystery man had haunted her for years. She'd been a sophomore in college the first time she dreamed about him. Her roommate had shaken her awake telling her that she was making "sex noises" in her sleep. Jolie had been embarrassed, but so turned on. She could still see his face and feel his hands. His voice was still in her ear and her panties had been soaking wet.

She had thought that the dreams had been premonitions. She was going to meet this guy and they'd fall in love...or at least have sex in real life. After three years of waiting to meet a stranger with dark hair and blue eyes, she gave up. She decided he was just a wet dream her mind had manifested to get her through the hard times. Jolie was notoriously single. Most of her relationships had been two date maximums. She'd had one serious boyfriend that lasted almost a year. I was a miracle Tyshaun lasted that long, as much as they'd fought.

She wasn't one of those women who blamed the men she dated for her track record. It wasn't them, it was her. She was a strong black woman who was about her business. She didn't stroke anyone's ego or hold her tongue. Jolie had always been up front and honest, that was the reason she was constantly unattached. As soon as a guy would say the wrong thing or say something insulting, stupid, or demeaning she would go off.

Maybe she should have let some things go or ignored a quirk on occasion, like when a guy gave her a pat on the butt while they waited in line to buy movie tickets. She could have shrugged it off, but it was their first date and he did not know her like that. Oh well. At least she didn't hit him. She'd wanted to slap his face, but she had managed some restraint.

Jolie snatched her yellow towel off the rack and wrapped herself in it. She had a breakfast meeting with her editor that morning so she couldn't dawdle. Usually she'd take her time putting on lotion and perfume and put the same care in picking out the perfect outfit. She stared at the neatly aligned and organized clothes in her closet and sighed. Breakfast with George McDill didn't require any special outfit. He was the most slovenly adult male she'd ever met. No doubt he'd have coffee stains on his shirt and tie before he walked into the café. She pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans and a red Baby Phat t-shirt that stopped just above her belly button. Her stomach wasn't as toned as she'd like it to be, but she was no slouch.

The bus stop was two blocks from her apartment building. She'd bought an apartment in the Executive Suite building so she could gaze at the city from her couch. The picture windows gave her a view for miles and that really helped her when she got writer's block. She was far from an executive, but she did love her suite.

The bus was late. Her day was starting to go downhill. She was up early and out of the house for this meeting and she was going to be late. Not to mention, the sky was overcast and she hadn't brought an umbrella.

Fat drops started to hit the side of the bench enclosure just as the bus pulled up in front of her. "Damn it," she mumbled scurrying up the stairs.

George was the one who was late. Jolie was on her second cup of coffee by the time he shuffled into the Moonlight Café. She wanted to yell at him. Didn't he know her least favorite thing was waiting? It was her own personal torture, to wait for another person. George McDill was a big man, rotund even. He was handsome in younger days, but middle age had spread those handsome features thin. His "don't give a shit" attitude didn't help either. After his third divorce, he really had stopped giving a shit. His posture had gone down and his weight had gone up. The only thing that mattered was work and at that moment, his work was getting Jolie Williams to turn in her chapters before the deadline the publisher had given.

"Of course I'll have the next six chapters done by next month," Jolie said over breakfast. She picked at a vegetarian omelet while George scarfed down bacon, eggs, and waffles. He always ate well on the company credit card.

She didn't bother telling him that she'd finished those chapters weeks ago and was well into the next section of her new book. Why not let him sweat it out? She loved to watch him squirm when she waited until the last minute.

"Just remember," he said around a mouth full of waffle. "Your publisher didn't write you that check for you to half ass this book."

Jolie rolled her eyes and feigned offense. "Mr. McDill, I don't half-ass anything. The chapters will be on your desk and on time." She glanced out the front window of the café. The rain had let up and she wanted to get back home before it started again. "I've got to go. I'll give you a call."

George mumbled a goodbye as he continued to eat his large breakfast. Back on the street, Jolie hurried to the bus stop and ducked into the protection of the plastic half-booth. There was a guy slouched on the bench, ankles crossed, with a black Yankees cap pulled low. Only the bottom half of his face was visible. She could tell he was white with an angular jaw and chin. Jolie leaned against the booth and crossed her arms, folding herself away from the stranger.

"I won't bite," a voice said. She could barely hear it over the persistent thuds from the rain.

"Excuse me," she said glancing at him. He hadn't moved, but to turn his head slightly in her direction.

"I said, I won't bite, you can sit down if you want."

"That's okay," Jolie answered quickly. "I prefer to stand."

"Oh, please," he scoffed. "No one prefers to stand. Just sit down. You know your feet hurt. Look at the heel on those boots."

Jolie bit back a smile. The boots were definitely not made for dodging rain drops. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Have it your way. I'm just trying to be a gentleman here." He shrugged.

"Yeah, right," Jolie mumbled.

The stranger stood and was beside her in two strides. Damn he was tall. "Are you trying to say that I'm not a gentleman?"

Jolie turned to face him and frowned.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," she snapped. "You don't even have the decency to look me in the eyes when you're talking to me and you're a gentleman? Oh, please."

He grabbed the bill of the cap and yanked it off his head. Jolie's mouth fell open. It was him.

He was the man in her dreams. His hair was jet black and fell in large curls in his eyes and around his slender face. His eyes were that sparkling sapphire blue. His lips were full and pink and he looked down on her from about the same height she'd looked up at him from in her dreams. It was him. Of course, in her dreams his hair was cut neatly and he never wore a ratty baseball cap, but it was still him.

"Now will you take my seat?" he asked, sounding a little offended.

"No," she answered breathlessly. "What's your name?"

He looked confused for a moment then shrugged. "David."

Jolie nodded and turned away from him. She had a name for her dream man. David. He was standing there, close enough to touch and just as beautiful as Michelangelo's statue of David. Her mind was racing. She would have left the bus stop and walked home right then if the rain hadn't picked up even more. She'd be drenched after six paces if she tried to make an escape.

"Well, what's your name?" he asked, breaking into her racing thoughts.

"Jolie," she said slowly, not turning to look at him.

"Like Angelina Jolie?" he asked.

"No," she snapped turning to glare at him. "Like Jolie Adelae Williams."

"What kind of name is that?" he asked pulling the hat back over his black curls.

"It's French. Jolie means lovely."

"I don't know it that name fits you," David teased. "I've known you about three minutes already and you haven't been very lovely to me."

Jolie frowned at him. "What would you know? You don't even know me."

"Well, I know enough not to leave the house without an umbrella on a rainy day." He pulled a compact black umbrella out of the pocket in his jacket. "And I know you don't have an umbrella right now. So it looks like I know more than you."

"It wasn't raining when I left." Jolie turned away from him again, a little embarrassed.

"Ah," David teased again. "I see the claws have gone back in."

"Here's the bus," Jolie said pointing over his shoulder.

David glanced back at the approaching bus. "Okay. Before we get on our way to where we were going before this conversation, why don't you give me your number?"

Jolie shook her head and stared at the rain drops hitting the booth. "No way. I don't give my number to strange men."

He chuckled lightly. "You think I'm strange?"

"That's not what I meant. I meant..."

"I know what you meant," he said as he pulled out his wallet. "Like you said, I don't know you." He pulled a white card out of his wallet and held it between two fingers. "Here. You take my number and call me when you're ready for me to get to know you."

Jolie stared at the card. She wanted to snatch it from him and clutch it to her heart. Then again, he was a complete stranger she'd just met on the street. It was just too weird.

He shook the card a little. "This won't bite you either."

Jolie sighed and yanked the card from him. "This doesn't mean I'll actually call you," she warned as she put it in her purse.

"I know," David said smiling. "Ladies first."

Jolie hadn't seen or heard the bus stop in front of them. She got on and ignored him until he got off at his stop, two before her own.

Later that evening, around five, Jolie paced the floor at the foot of her bed. The little white card was on her night stand beside the phone. She had spent most of the day on the couch with her laptop, but every time she took a break and now that she'd stopped working, there was a nagging voice telling her to pick up the card and call David. For some reason she was scared. Her fantasy had stared her in the face earlier that day, now it was up to her to make it real. What if he didn't measure up to her imagination?

She stopped pacing and sat on the bed. Slowly, she took the phone off the hook and pushed the numbers into the handset. Jolie had never denied herself anything before and she wasn't about to start now. There was no reason for her to punk out; it was just a phone call.

"Hello."

She inhaled sharply when David answered the ring.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "This is Jolie."

"So, you decided to call." There was a smile in his voice.

"Yeah, why not...I didn't have anything better to do." She leaned back into her pillows and tucked her legs under her.

"I can fix that."

"What?"

"You said you don't have anything better to do. How about we go out tonight?"

Jolie stared at the stucco ceiling above her and smiled. "I don't know."

"I can pick you up at seven. I just left a client's house so I have to go home and clean up."

"Are you an escort or something? Why do you have to clean up?"

David laughed loudly. "No, I'm a personal trainer. I work out for a living."

Jolie didn't like working out. It was boring when she did it at home and she was way too self conscious to go to a gym.

Jolie wasn't ready to accept his invitation so she ignored it and asked him about himself. He had been a personal trainer for three years and made a good living. He graduated from Adam's College two years before she had and had a small house in the suburbs. He was talking to her on the bus ride home, which took almost an hour from his client's house near Hillsdale Country club.

"If you make good money, why don't you have a car?" Jolie asked. It was in her nature to be suspicious.

"I never go out of town so I bought a twenty dollar bus pass. Who needs to spend money on a car and gas? Why do you ride the bus?"

"I live in an apartment. A parking space is a lot of commitment, so are car payments."

He chuckled. "Look, I'm at my house now. I've got to take a shower. There were people on the bus giving me dirty looks so I know I stink. Let me call you back and we'll figure out what to do tonight."

"I never agreed to do anything with you tonight," Jolie said matter-of-factly.

"You will. I'll call you back."

David unlocked his front door, picked up the mail from the floor in front of it, and tossed his gym bag into the coat closet. His house was small, but it was in a nice neighborhood. He'd gotten it for a good price because it needed work, which he'd already finished. Basically it was a new roof, new gutters, and numerous plumbing repairs. He kicked off his shoes in his bedroom and went straight to the shower. He didn't want to linger too long under the relaxing stream of warm water. He was anxious to get back with Jolie. They were going on a date if it was the last thing he did.