Librarian Finds Long Overdue Love Ch. 24

"Thank you, darrhhling," Angelina said, settling contentedly into Lorenzo's lap while her increasingly tense relatives and friend looked as cozy as if they were sitting on chairs of nails.

Angelina nuzzled closer, if that's possible, to the hunk, as he placed his right hand on her exposed crossed left thigh. Although they had only known each other for about a half-hour, the pair had quickly warmed to the other -- a bit too warmly, for their wary tablemates' comfort level. The mutual physical attraction between the two was palpable. Staring intensely into Lorenzo's brooding eyes, Angelina leaned her face into his to initiate a kiss on the lips.

"What's Tom doing tonight?" Lisa asked, in a desperate attempt to break the mood, distract her horny aunt from the growing sexual tension and temptations and refocus her attention on her absent fiance.

The ploy worked, as Angelina pulled back just centimeters from connecting with Lorenzo's mouth, shooting her niece a death stare, before kicking Lisa's shin under the table with the pointed toe of her right-legged fashion boot.

"Who's Tom?" Lorenzo asked with a look of concern.

"Tom?...Oh...he's...he's no one...just my butler," Angelina responded with a casual, dismissive wave of her cigarette holder-clutched hand. "I gave him the night off, since we were going out.

"So, darrhhling, are you ready for another spin on the dance floor?"

The subject-changing question was meant rhetorically, as Angelina hopped off Lorenzo's lap, grabbed his hand and rested her barely-smoked cigarette holder in the ashtray on the table. Seconds later, the two were back on the dance floor, boogying to the strains of Barry Manilow's "Copacabana (At the Copa)."

"I can't believe she just did that," Nancy turned to Elaine and Lisa and said in astonishment. "Angelina basically just lied about having a fiancé."

"My shin sure believes it," Lisa answered, massaging the pain away from her bruised lower leg.

"The only thing I'm surprised about is she remembered Tom's name," Elaine chimed in. "I don't know about you both, but I need a cigarette."

Rifling through her sister's purse, Elaine, who hadn't smoked in about a quarter century since the onset of her pregnancy with Tony, her youngest -- cracked open Angelina's cigarette case and impatiently lit up a Virginia Slim.

"Ohhhh..." she sighed, after exhaling a plume of smoke. "I'd almost forgotten how soothing smoking a cigarette can be."

"Well, no sense letting this go to waste," Lisa said, picking up Angelina's once-puffed holder and bringing it to her lips.

Lisa, who was only a party smoker when she was a college student a few years ago, tentatively inhaled from her aunt's holder.

"Definitely soothing," Lisa sighed, the smoke oozing gracefully from her parted lips.

"May I see that, please?" Nancy asked.

Lisa handed her aunt's holder off to the older woman, a confirmed non-smoker, who looked the part, uneasily pinching it between her thumb and index finger.

"Please keep those kids quiet. I had a late date last night, so I'm going to lie down for awhile," said the mousy assistant librarian, mimicking her boss' pretentious, aristocratic voice. "Then be a dear and run to the cafeteria and pick up some lunch for me...and be sure to trim any fat off the meat before you serve it to me."

Elaine and Lisa broke into laughter, immediately recognizing the spot-on impersonation as that of their diva relative with the bourgeois attitude.

"Give it here," Elaine demanded, reaching for the holder, so she could perform her impression of her pompous, condescending sister. "Elaine, darrhhling, you don't know how fortunate you are to only have one man in your life. It's exhausting having so many gentlemen suitors. My datebook is an absolute fright."

Her companions shook their heads and rolled their eyes, as if they've heard that one before.

"I've got one," Lisa said, reaching her hand out to accept the defacto baton.

"Wait," I've got one more Angelina-ism," the girl's mother said, pulling the holder back from her daughter. "Married? Single? All men are eligible to me, darrhhling, as long as they're rich."

"Nice, that totally sounds like something Aunt Ang would say," Lisa said, taking the holder back and wrapping her lips around the mouthpiece and releasing.

"Don't be afraid to lead a man on to get what you want," she said, before pausing to exhale. "I've been using my sexuality to manipulate men since before you were born."

The trio cackled, glad to have something funny to distract themselves from the tension of the night. The moment was shortlived, however, as Angelina crossed into their field of vision, dirty dancing with the man they feared would break up her marriage before she even got to the altar.

Shortly after 10:00 p.m., a beaming Angelina returned to the table, a healthy glow about her face that went beyond the fact that she'd been physically exerting herself on the dance floor for the last half hour.

"Great news, darrhhlings," she said, stopping to down the rest of her Cosmopolitan. "Lorenzo's invited us all back to his penthouse for a drink."

"C'mon, Angelina," objected Elaine. "You don't even know him. We have no business going to a stranger's apartment."

"Yeah, I agree," Lisa said. "I think it's time to call it a night. Besides, I told Richie I'd be home by 11:00."

"What's wrong with all of you?" asked an annoyed Angelina. "It's not every day that we get to leave dreary Jersey and be invited up to a handsome man's penthouse apartment in Manhattan with a view of Central Park. You can take the bus home, if you want, but I'm going."

Lisa, Elaine and Nancy exchanged knowing looks. As much as they felt uneasy and out of place going to Lorenzo's, they knew they had to -- if just to protect Angelina from herself. Who knows what trouble the party girl would get to without their adult supervision?

"Okay, we'll go," Elaine said, speaking for the group. "But just one drink, Angelina. Promise?"

"Absolutely, darrhhling," her sister agreed. "Lorenzo's making a phone call, but I told him we'd meet him outside. We'll take a cab over to his apartment. It's only a few blocks away.

Reluctantly, the other three women rose from the table and followed Angelina out of the nightclub, where Lorenzo was waiting at the curb with a hailed cab. Minutes later the taxi pulled up to the front of his luxury apartment building on 10th Avenue and 54th Street. The clubgoers filed out, made their way past the well-dressed doorman, through the lobby and into a waiting elevator that carried them to the 12th floor.

"Good evening, Escobar," Lorenzo said, when his butler answered the door to his penthouse.

"Good evening, Senor Machado," greeted the short, well coiffed older gentleman, who, if not for his slight build, could have passed for Lorenzo's father.

"Ladies, welcome to my humble abode," Lorenzo said, sounding like Mr. Roarke from TV's Fantasy Island. "Please, allow me to give you the...how you say it in America...the Cook's tour?"

The smiling host proceeded to give his guests a guided trip around his sprawling apartment, that was anything but humble. Every room was filled with a blend of modern and antique furniture and tastefully decorated in paintings, sculptures and other fine pieces of artwork from his native Colombia.

"This guy must be loaded," a clearly impressed Elaine whispered to Nancy, when the tour concluded in the spacious living room.

"Ladies, please, make yourself comfortable," Lorenzo said, motioning them to the cushy sofa, loveseat and armchairs arranged in a semi-circle facing a giant TV set. "Escobar, champagne, por favor."

The butler nodded then disappeared into the kitchen. In less than a minute, he returned with a tray holding five longneck wine glasses and a bottle of champagne chilling in a stainless steel bucket of ice.

"I hope you all like French champagne," Lorenzo said, as Escobar proceeded to pour each lady a glass of $800-a-bottle, 1983 Louis Roederer Cristal Millesime Brut.

"Absolutely splendid," Angelina said, after taking a sip of her drink. "Such wonderfully complex notes. I haven't had a vintage like this since I was in Nice in 1980."

Elaine looked at her haughty sister, rolled her eyes and bit her tongue, before she could call out Angelina, who had never so much set foot in France -- let alone Nice -- on her bold-faced lie.

The pretentious librarian opened her purse and removed her equally-pretentious long black cigarette holder.

"Angelina, if you don't mind, could you smoke on the veranda instead?" Lorenzo asked, before the woman had a chance to affix a Virginia Slim into the business end of the holder.

"Of course, darrhhling," said the woman, rising from her place on the sofa.

"Excuse us, ladies," Lorenzo said. "Escobar, please pour the ladies more champagne -- and put a movie on the TV. We'll be back shortly, ladies."

Lorenzo gently took Angelina by the elbow and led her to the terrace.

Five minutes later, Elaine asked Escobar if she could use the restroom. The butler showed Elaine to the bathroom outside the master bedroom. On her way back to the living room, Elaine caught an orange glow out of the corner of her eye. Stopping in her tracks, she looked closer. The light was coming from beyond the bedroom -- it was the terrace. Stepping forward, Elaine was able to make out that it was Angelina's smoldering cigarette holder, then the silhouette of two figures -- bodies pressed closely and swaying slowly to phantom music.

"Oh, shit," Elaine said softly, recognizing the bodies as those of her sister and Lorenzo, who was now delicately kissing Angelina's neck.

Elaine ducked behind a curtain so she could continue watching without drawing attention to herself. The pair were now kissing passionately and searching about the others' bodies with their roving hands -- making things up as they were making out.

Distressed, Elaine had seen enough. She could no longer play the voyeur, bolting from the room before seeing any more private moments that she'd regret. Returning to the living room, Elaine tried to remain as composed as possible, as she took her seat on the sofa and downed the contents of her champagne glass. It was another five or so minutes before Angelina and Lorenzo rejoined the party.

"Can I get anyone more champagne? Something to eat, perhaps?" Lorenzo asked.

"I'm famished, darrhhling. Anything would be divine," Angelina suggested.

"Coming right up, as you would say. I'll tell Escobar," Lorenzo replied, setting off for the kitchen.

"Ang, can I speak to you in private for a moment?" Elaine asked her sister, now that Lorenzo was out of the room.

"Of course, darrhhling," Angelina said, with slight perplexion, as she met Elaine in the far corner of the room, away from Lisa and Mrs. Allums.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Trying to do? I'm not following."

"You know exactly what I mean -- making out with Lorenzo. I saw you."

"So? What's the harm?"

"The harm is you're engaged to be married in two weeks, for crissakes! Don't you still want to get married?"

"Of course I do, darrhhling. And I will."

"Good, then you can forget about Lorenzo after tonight."

"Oh, I didn't say that. Be serious, darrhhling. Men like Lorenzo don't grow on trees. I'm not about to throw that fish back into the water."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about having him on the side."

"You're not serious. You're not even married yet and you're already looking past Tom for someone better?!" Besides, you don't know anything about Lorenzo. He could be the playboy type."

"That's fine. I'll already have a husband. All he has to be is a lover -- and I'll bet he's a good one, too. And I do know what he does; he's an art dealer -- and a very rich and successful one, it appears, which doesn't hurt."

"Jesus Lord."

"Just think of it. It's an ideal arrangement. Lorenzo lives in Manhattan, so I can pop in every other week or so for a date with him while Thomas is at band rehearsal. Thomas will never be the wiser. It's perfect. And..."

"And...what?"

"Well, if things shouldn't work out between Thomas and I in the long run, then I can easily transition exclusively to Lorenzo. It's perfect."

"You're beyond hope."

"Ok, ladies, good news," Lorenzo announced, returning to the room. "Escobar is preparing something for you to nibble on. In the meantime, please, help yourself to more champagne and watch whatever you want on TV."

"Thank you, Lorenzo. You've been a gracious host, but it's late and we have a long drive back to Jersey," Elaine said, as she stood up. "I think it's time for us to go."

Clearly not ready to leave, Angelina shot her sister a nasty look.

"Oh, but you just got here," he protested. "Please, just 15...20 minutes more. I wanted to show Angelina my book of illustrations."

"Fine," Elaine said, with a look of resignation.

"Thank you. Mi scusi."

Lorenzo led Angelina to his bedroom in the back of the penthouse, while Elaine angrily plopped herself down on the sofa.

"It's okay, there's no harm in staying a little longer," Nancy assured her.

"Hmmm..." Elaine uttered, taking a sip of her champagne.

Five long minutes past before the ladies heard a key jiggling in the front door.

"Lorenzo? I'm home," came the female-sounding voice from the foyer.

Before the ladies could react, the body that belonged to that voice was upon them.

"Who are you?" the statuesque, dark-haired beauty asked, setting the two suitcases she was holding in both hands on the floor. "LORENZO?!"

Meanwhile, in the soft-music bathed back bedroom, Angelina and Lorenzo were too preoccupied with getting busy to hear the woman's yell. Still fully clothed, the pair were sprawled on the king-sized waterbed, Lorenzo's book of illustrations -- open to page one -- resting beside them.

"Oh, darrhhling, I'm ready...I'm soooo ready," Angelina purred in erotic contentment, as the lips of her new lover sensually worked over the nape of her neck while his left hand reached up her short skirt and massaged her pussy.

"What's going on here?" demanded the hot-tempered Latina, who had marched through the apartment in search of Lorenzo and now stood in the bedroom's door jamb.

Startled by the woman's unexpected presence, Angelina and Lorenzo stopped their foreplay and stared blankly at her.

"Maria, no es lo que parece ("Maria, it's not what it seems,") Lorenzo said in his native Spanish, rising from the bed to confront the woman, as he pulled shut his colored shirt that Angelina had ripped open during their foreplay. "Solo le estaba mostrando mi libra." ("I was just showing her my book.")

"Guardalo, Lorenzo. Quien es la slut?" ("Save it, Lorenzo. Who is this slut?)

Angelina didn't speak or understand Spanish, but recognizing the work "slut," she jumped off the bed and got in the woman's face.

"I'm not a slut," Angelina said in defiant indignation. "And just who are you?"

"I'm his wife!" the woman said, fire in her eyes.

"His wife?! He didn't tell me he was married."

"Yes, and I'm going to punch your fucking face off."

Lorenzo's wife curled her right hand into a tight fist and brought her arm back past her shoulder. Sensing she was about to be the victim of physical violence and faced with the prospect of fight or flight, the terrified Angelina chose the latter, in the form of a faint. Eyes rolling up into the back of her head, Angelina collapsed to the floor, just as Elaine, Lisa and Nancy appeared on the scene.

"Get this piece of human trash out of my apartment," Lorenzo's vengeful wife turned to them and said, "or I throw her down the chute to the incinterator with the rest of the garbage."

Quickly doing as they were told, the three bent down to retrieve the unconscious Angelina -- Elaine and Lisa each taking a shoulder, while Nancy wrapped her arms around her boss' booted legs.

"What a crazy bachelorette party this turned out to be," Nancy said, when the trio were outside the apartment, carrying the still out cold Angelina down the hallway to the elevator like she was a wounded soldier heading for triage.

"She may not realize it when she wakes up, but Ang really dodged a bullet tonite," said Lisa, propping her fainted aunt up against the wall by the elevator, before pressing the 'down-button' arrow and pausing to rest. "You don't mess with another woman's man. She was really lucky. Hope she learned a lesson."

"No doubt," Elaine said, looking into the face of her unconscious sister. "She played with fire and won --- or survived. This time, anyway. Next time, she might not be so lucky. One of these days her reckless behavior is gonna come back to bite her."