Fill the bottom of an old-fashioned espresso maker with the water. Drop the metal filter in place and add the coffee grounds. Screw on the lid and place on the stove on high heat. When the coffee is heard bubbling up, remove from the flame immediately and serve in demitasse cups.
For best results, wait until after dark.
19
Lumi
The next day turned out to be sunny, and yet Lumi could think of no better place to spend the morning than in her bathtub. She sighed contentedly as she sank in and thought back to last night. She let out a long, deep breath as she remembered the events: the museum party, sitting on the subway with Julien, his wide smile and hearty laugh, the feel of his hair as she twisted it between her fingers, the flush of his freckled skin when they had stumbled out of Absinthe. The feel of his strong arm around her shoulders, spiriting her away from the chaos. His broad, wide shoulders.
She shivered as she thought about him and his body. She leaned her head back and let her hand slip between her legs. She knew her own body and what would quickly bring her pleasure. As she caressed that spot, she thought of Julien. What would it be like to feel his bare skin against hers? How would it be to feel him inside her? She could practically hear his deep, ragged breathing against her ear. She bit her lip as she felt the familiar but welcome swell and rode the spiking waves until she found her release.
As she drifted into a pleasant and relaxed space, she had to admit that as much as she loved her own touch, it was the thought of Julien that had ignited her desire. She thought back to the hunger she felt in his kiss, tempting her, tantalizing her, and suddenly it felt silly for her to keep fighting this growing urge.
She thought about the next time she would see him. It wouldn’t be tonight, since she had the day off. But what if it was? What would happen if she were to show up after closing time when he was the only one left?
It would be clear that she was only there for one thing.
She willed herself to stand up, shaking droplets onto the floor and disturbing the tranquil surface of the bath. Something had been awoken in her, and suddenly she was less concerned by what people would think and where their relationship would lead. There was something sparking between them, and maybe she should let it run its course naturally. Then they would be able to work together normally without this incandescent whatever-it-was constantly being a distraction. At least that was what she told herself as she rummaged through her closet to choose an outfit for her nighttime trip.
20
Julien
Julien awoke with a start and glanced at the clock. It was 7:00 A.M. He had slept for only three hours, yet he felt wide awake. He got up and paced around his apartment, stared out the window as he watched the cars go by. He scrutinized the kitchen, tile by tile. They were all white and sparkling.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. He needed something to do to distract himself from this flame of passion that was consuming him.
Frustrated, he headed toward the shower. He peeled off the boxers he had slept in. He twisted the knob to turn the showerhead on, and as he waited for the warm water to flow, his thoughts drifted back to last night. To Lumi. Hearing her name on his lips thrilled his heart, and he whispered it to himself and felt the hairs stand up on his arms.
The smart thing to do would be to take a step back before this went any further, but at the same time he knew this was more than just a crush. He thought back to their kiss last night, and his mouth burned with desire as he recalled the taste of her lips, juicy as raspberries. He ached to drink of them.
And then that imbecile Verdi had come around and ruined everything. He could feel his fist closing reflexively as he recalled Verdi’s comments. How dare he say anything about the woman who ignited his being in this way. Verdi was lucky to have escaped with all his limbs intact.
He recalled the feel of her body pressed against his and he suddenly couldn’t stand still another second.
He took hold of himself and began to stroke. He was starting to recall the feel of her pert breasts pressing against his chest when the doorbell rang. He tried to ignore it, but it rang a second time. He cursed under his breath as he stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped a towel around his midsection, and strode to the door. He peered out the peephole, sighing under his breath.
“Berta, what are you doing here this early?” he asked.
The housekeeper stared at him, confused. He was usually happy when she came early.
“I came at seven thirty today, Mr. Dax, so I can be leaving early. Little Julito has his first softball game of the season,” she explained.
He nodded his head in a hurry. “Okay. Great. Thank you,” he replied, and ducked back into the master bedroom, shut the door behind him, and climbed back in the still-running shower. The appearance of his housekeeper had somewhat doused his passion, but he still felt like he was about to burst.
Touching himself again, he guided his thoughts back to Lumi and her body. He thought about the times that he snuck glances at her in the kitchen, as he admired the way the smallness of her waist gave way to the swell of her hips. The flush of her face as she worked made him wonder what she would look like if she was flushed by a different kind of exertion. He was starting to feel his climax coming on when the phone rang. He ignored it until the phone rang louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, abandoning his pursuit. He threw on a towel and stepped out to grab his phone.
“Dax here,” he said in a thick, woolly voice.
“Julien, are you still in bed?” said a man’s voice on the other side of the call.
“No, Patrick,” Julien grumbled. “What’s going on?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Julien . . . our breakfast plans . . .”
Julien stared at the phone blankly for a moment and then slapped his forehead. He had forgotten all about their Friday breakfast. “Shit. What time did we say?” he asked.
“Julien! Eight o’clock at Brasserie Cognac,” Patrick said, his voice strained.
Julien glanced at the clock and groaned. “Calm down, Patrick,” he said. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He hung up without saying another word and thought for a moment. It was no use. Now Patrick was waiting for him. He turned up the water as hot as it would go and quickly lathered and showered.
He threw on a loose pair of cargo pants and a white T-shirt and dashed out the door. Brasserie Cognac was on Fifty-Sixth Street and Broadway, just a few blocks from Julien’s apartment, which overlooked Columbus Circle. He walked down Broadway until the latticed sidewalk tables and his irritated friend and former next-door neighbor came into view.
Patrick focused on his tiny demitasse cup and swirled the espresso he had left at the bottom so that he didn’t have to make eye contact with Julien as he approached. He pulled at his short locks as though they had suddenly become too tight for his scalp.
“Morning!” Julien said, pulling up a chair.
Patrick looked from Julien to his watch and grimaced. Julien noticed that Patrick was practically wearing his shoulders as earrings. As Julien sat, they lowered one centimeter at a time.
“I can’t believe you forgot our breakfast plans,” Patrick said.
“I’m sorry. I had a long night.”