JAZZ: MICHIGAN BOUND. 4
Jazz waited for effect. Then added. “We can do something simple like having coffee together.”
Paola sat on the edge of the bed. Being with Jazz was always exciting. No one could make Paola feel that mountain top feeling that came after a night of inventive and passionate love making. Even outside the bedroom, Jazz knew how to have fun. Dancing with Jazz was intoxicating. She had mastered every seductive move. Her body exuded life. Nearby couples always attempted some of her moves and Jazz would take time to interact with them. The carpenter star drew people to her bubbly extrovert character. Paola was realistic, if she did not accept this invitation, Jazz would simply make another phone call.
“So, Alley-cat, tell me more about playing in the alley. How will you play with me? Make it hot, and I’ll think about your offer!”
“We are in Brazil. Paola, I’m running my fingers through your ‘Amazon’ jungle. It is a thick rain forest of unexpected delights.
“There are caves with water trickling down the sides. We are explorers, Amazons in search of treasures.”
“You are lucky that I cancelled a party earlier today. So, where do I meet you, Alley-Cat?”
“Candy Bar. I’m on my way there.”
Paola responded in a stern voice.
“ Jazz, I warn you. No messing around. If you do, Eu vou tirar os olhos!” I will your eyes take out!”
“Who me? My eyes will be on my drink.”
Paola hung up.
Jazz popped the Cape Verde singer, Cesaria Evora into the cd drive. The sultry voice sang “Besame Mucho” (Kiss me, kiss me a lot!) She visualized Paola’s body. She could almost taste the texture of Paola’s firm breasts in her mouth. She could visualize running her hands up those long model legs! Paola had been the right choice for tonight.
The Candy Bar was crowded as Jazz edged her way through the crowds. She acknowledged the friendly nods and greetings, and smiled at the intense eyes as others shot her warning looks. Jazz called them, butch stags, ready to lock horns when an intruder threatened their females. Waving and acknowledging people, she made her way to the closest looking glass. The washroom mirror seemed to blush when Jazz shot it an appreciative glance. She adjusted the collar of her white shirt and dusted off a hair from her pin-striped three-piece suit. She was a valued customer on Saville Row, meticulous in her selection of made- to-measure designer suits, sports jackets and handmade shirts. Every fitting was a business opportunity for Jazz. Her face was familiar as the beautiful and perky carpenter in the weekly television show, “If a Man Can.” Her renovating company capitalized on the show’s success with glossy photos and articles in leading British and European home magazines.
Meanwhile, inside a speeding taxi, Paola applied the finishing touches to her make up.