Sleeping With The Enemy Read online

  Sleeping With The Enemy

  M.N Providence

  One

  He was woken up by the chimes of the alarm clock on the bedside table.

  He rose from the bed and stretched himself. He felt very good. He had had wonderful sleep. He got out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Except for a book that lay face down next to the bed, the room was very clean and orderly, a hint that he was a meticulous and clean individual.

  He was singing while washing himself in the shower. Still singing cheerfully, he returned to the bedroom to get dressed. After dousing himself with Armani’s eau pour homme cologne, he got dressed in black pants, a black polo-neck and a brown leather jacket before leaving his apartment and going to a trendy café at the corner of Madison Avenue to get something to eat.

  * * * * *

  He was waiting for his order when he turned around, still standing at the counter, and saw a pretty woman reading a book. He stared at her long enough for his gaze to make its magic chemistry into her psyche. She looked up and their eyes met.

  She was a lovely woman with dark hair and wonderful bluish eyes. Even though she was sitting down, she looked like she was of average height. She was dressed in a navy-blue pant-suit and black high heeled shoes.

  Something extraordinary passed between them during that moment, such that he felt like he was revolving in space and there were only the two of them there. He smiled at her.

  She smiled back.

  He was brought back to earth by the waitress bringing his order. He took the food and made an impetuous decision to talk to the woman who had stolen his heart just by looking at him.

  He walked towards the pretty lady and stopped by her table. ‘What’re you reading?’

  She lifted her book and showed him the cover: Far From The Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy.

  ‘Thomas Hardy,’ he said. ‘He’s good.’

  She nodded her head with a smile and went back to her reading.

  He walked away. When he was outside, waiting to cross the road, on his way back to his apartment, he stole a glance back through the window and caught her watching him. He waved at her.

  She raised her hand reluctantly and waved back at him.

  He crossed the street and walked back to his apartment.

  Two

  Rosina arrived at the apartment she shared with her sister.

  Her sister was standing before a huge LED TV, marveling at it. ‘What do you think?’ she asked when she saw Rosina.

  ‘Too big.’

  ‘Oh don’t be a spoil-sport,’ her sister protested. ‘I will enjoy watching you with this thing. My beloved sister, you gotta appreciate art.’

  ‘This is not art,’ said Rosina. ‘It’s madness.’

  She went into her bedroom, fetched her laptop and returned with it to the living room. She shoved it into its carry bag and slung it onto her shoulder. She kissed her sister on the left cheek ‘Gotta get to work. Bye.’

  ‘I’ll be here watching you, and when you return I’ll still be here watching TV.’

  Rosina shook her head in disapproval. ‘You need to get out more often.’

  ‘Look who’s talking.’

  They both laughed as Rosina walked out of the room.

  Three

  He was at his apartment reading a book. His mind trailed off and he thought about that episode in the café. The picture of her sitting down at the table with her head bent down reading a book, looking like the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, just sprang to his mind and he couldn’t shake it off. He thought it funny that a stranger he had no chance of ever meeting again had got him feeling so strongly about her.

  Four

  At precisely that moment, she was also thinking about him – more appropriately, about that episode in the café, when a stranger had walked up to her, wearing beautifully-tailored clothes and the most dazzling smile she had ever seen on a man, had come to her and greeted her.

  A horn blasted from behind her and awakened her from her reverie. The traffic light had turned green. She stepped on the gas and sped towards the studios.

  She arrived at the network studios late and made it to the news desk with just six seconds to go. Professional that she was, she calmed herself down, such that when the studio went live she was smiling broadly at the camera and giving the news to America in the usual manner.

  The news reading over, her producer scolded her heatedly for arriving late. Rosina lashed back hotly, standing her ground to the man who thought he owned her.

  Five

  The following morning she was at the café, busy on her laptop, when he entered.

  He was wearing a long black coat, a white shirt, a red tie and gray pants. He looked handsome and imposing. He went to the counter to order his takeaway. He looked round the café and saw her, hunched over her laptop, a fierce expression of concentration on her face. His order came inside a khaki paper bag. He took it and went over to the pretty woman.

  ‘Hello.’

  She looked up and feigned surprise. ‘Hi.’

  He handed her a hardcover book. ‘Charles Dickens.’ It was Great Expectations. ‘I thought you’d like it.’

  She accepted it. ‘Thank you.’

  He began to walk away, then paused, turned back to wave at her and just then caught a glimpse of light flashing on her computer screen. He half turned towards the window and saw a machine-gun peeking out of a car with tinted windows. His heart racing, he leapt up towards her and shielded her body as they fell onto the floor, the table and chair also falling in an upturned mess.

  Torrential gunfire rained all over the café. People scurried around the café to hide themselves. It was over in ten seconds. The car sped away.

  ‘What was that?’ she asked with a frightened face.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he replied evasively, getting up and helping her to her feet.

  She touched her face and noticed a trickle of blood. ‘Oh God! Please tell me it’s not big.’

  ‘No, just a laceration,’ he said with a consoling smile.

  They heard police sirens.

  ‘I’ve gotta get out here.’ She picked up her laptop. ‘It’s destroyed.’

  He took it from her, picked up the things that had spilled from her purse and returned them into it. He said to her, ‘My place is not far from here. You can come up and clean yourself.’

  ‘I don’t know—.’

  ‘It won’t take long, com’ on,’ he urged decisively and took her by the arm as they hurried out.

  * * * * *

  He lived in an open-plan-living apartment, with the living room and bedroom separated only by a big ceiling-to-floor bookshelf in front of the bed. She looked around the place apprehensively.

  He handed her the purse and said, ‘Bathroom’s over there.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She went and shut herself inside the bathroom, cleaning the blood and dirt off her face. To her horror, she discovered that there were things missing from her purse. She covered her face in her hands. ‘Oh Jesus, this is just great.’

  He was making coffee when her head popped out of the bathroom door. ‘Um…this is very embarrassing…’ She looked down and then back up again. ‘I’m missing some tampons…they must’ve fallen out of my purse…’

  ‘Okay, okay, never mind. I won’t be five minutes.’

  * * * * *

  He was passing by the scene of the crime when he saw a book lying face down at a distance. He went closer, looked around furtively like a thief and picked it up. Then he went to the pharmacy and picked up a pack of sanitary pads. He went to the counter to pay for it.

  ‘I hope the lucky sister appreciates having a man like you,’ said the Black cashier at the counter.
/>   ‘Yeah, I hope she does.’

  She handed him his change. ‘Thank you…and good luck.’

  He frowned at her. ‘Why do you wish me luck?’

  She smiled mysteriously. ‘Good luck on your path of love.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, keep the change.’

  He left the pharmacy and walked outside towards his place. He had not walked far when he noticed that someone was following him. He concentrated his attention at the line of shops on Fifth Avenue and pretended to be window-shopping until he was certain that he had a tail. He went into a men’s boutique and took off something from the rakes. He went into one of the fitting rooms and noticed his tail following him into the shop.

  Patiently, he waited in the fitting room, leaving his door open and expecting his tail to appear any time soon. He placed the pack of pads on a holder inside the fitting room and then went to the entrance to the dressing rooms, hiding himself from view. When his tail came shortly afterwards, he shot his right hand out and struck the man at the back of the neck, but his blow didn’t connect as hard as he had intended. The man turned back with amazing alacrity and hit back at him. He was kicked in the left knee and winced with the pain. He was getting to understand that his opponent was fast when the man dealt him another bruising blow on the temple.

  He reeled back but had the presence of mind to kick out at the man’s crotch. Self-preservation came quickly to his opponent and the man blocked his family jewels with both his hands, leaving his face open for the taking. Two powerful jabs at his nose and chin sent him reeling backwards onto the floor, where he lay groaning in pain and grabbing his bloody nose.

  He grabbed the whimpering man, rolled him around onto his belly and held his right hand in an arm twist.

  ‘Who sent you?’ he whispered in the man’s ear.

  ‘Fuck off!’ the man cursed through gritted teeth.

  He snapped broke the man’s little finger and the man hollered in pain. Intently, he went for the second finger in line and held it at the ready for snapping. ‘Who sent you?’

  ‘Boss Cambiaso,’ the man answered with a painful grimace.

  ‘Tell Cambiaso I did not kill his brother—.’

  ‘It was your operation,’ the man said with a wince of pain.

  ‘It was my operation, but I did not give the order.’

  The man nodded.

  ‘And lay off my back.’

  He released the man’s hand and went into the fitting room where he had left the pack of pads. He smoothed down his clothes, looked himself in the mirror and picked up his pack of pads. As he left the fitting rooms, he saw a young sales rep who was about to come in and investigate the commotion of a few moments go. He quickly grabbed a hat from a rack close by and said sternly at the boy, ‘How much?’

  ‘$360, sir.’

  ‘I’ll take it,’ he said, beaming a wide smile at the boy.

  * * * * *

  ‘Five minutes?’ she asked indignantly when she saw him enter into the apartment. She was sitting on the only couch in the place.

  He threw her the pack. ‘Sorry, got delayed by some business I had to take care of.’

  She went into the bathroom and shut herself inside for a while.

  He sat down on the couch and foraged inside her purse. He found a business card with her name on it: Rosina Ameliano, News Anchor, Channel 5 News. He pocketed it in his jacket.

  Moments later, her heard the sounds of her returning from the bathroom and stood up. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and watched her as she silently came and picked up her hand-bag and walked off towards the door.

  He rushed to open it for her. She got out and paused. ‘Thank you for your help…in everything.’

  ‘Okay.’

  She began to walk away.

  ‘Have a productive day,’ he said to her back.

  She faltered in her step and half turned back. ‘Thank you. Goodbye.’

  ‘You’re forgetting something.’

  She frowned her question at him.

  He held up the book to her: Great Expectations.

  She came and took it. Her eyes locked with his for a second but she quickly looked away. She turned and walked away without another word.

  He waved at her back, even though she didn’t see it. ‘Yeah, goodbye, Miss Ameliano,’ he whispered to her departing back.

  Six

  Feeling drowsy and hungry, she woke up and went to the kitchen, where she fetched some yoghurt from the fridge. She then went to her younger sister’s bedroom. She stood at the door and leaned against the doorframe. Paulina was sorting out her clothes, readying them for the laundry.

  ‘Hey Paulie, what’s up?’

  ‘Hey Rosie.’

  ‘Didn’t see you last night when I got home.’

  ‘Yeah, I was away with this guy I met recently. He’s sexy, fun and—.’

  ‘Get outta here!’ laughed Rosina, folding her arms cross her chest and staring at her sister in wonder. ‘It’s number what already this year?’

  ‘Four, and counting.’

  Rosina took a generous sip of her yoghurt, forgetting her scooping spoon. ‘You do lead an interesting life, Lil’ sis.’

  ‘What? Are we getting jealous?’

  ‘No,’ Rosina replied and looked down, her disheveled locks falling down and covering her face.

  ‘Rosie, you got something to tell me?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ she shot back with her head still facing down.

  ‘I hear it in your voice.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Rosina walked to the bed and perched herself on it. She looked at Paulina. ‘I met a guy—.’

  ‘Woo-hoo! It’s about time you had a real dick inside your—.’

  ‘Paulie!’ Rosina warned sternly.

  ‘I mean it; you cannot depend on a vibrator all your life. Sometimes there’s gotta be a man in there.’

  ‘Paulie!’ raising her voice and screwing her eyes at her impertinent younger sister.

  ‘Okay,’ Paulina raised her hands apologetically. ‘Sorry. Tell me about this guy,’ she said eagerly, coming to sit on the bed next to her sister.

  ‘I don’t know much really about him, except that I suspect that he’s a serious type, with a love for books; he’s kind and he’s got a generous heart.’

  ‘You realize what you’ve just said, don’t you?’ Paulina asked, her face becoming serious.

  Rosina stared at her questioningly.

  ‘You just described yourself. In other words you’ve just met your soul-mate.’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ She got up and paced away from her sister, yoghurt forgotten.

  ‘Yippee!’ yelled Paulina ecstatically. ‘You’ve met a real cock to please you—.’

  ‘Please don’t call him that,’ Rosina begged earnestly. ‘I really like this guy.’

  ‘Sorry again,’ Paulina apologized. ‘Is he gonna call?’

  ‘I hope so.’ Her eyes lit up as she remembered something. ‘He doesn’t have my number.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Paulina quietly. ‘Make sure he gets it,’ she said after a moment of silence.

  ‘I’ll try.’

  Seven

  He had an exercise bar fastened from one wall to the other just below the ceiling. The exercise bar had a place where he could fasten his feet and hang up-side-down from the steel bar. Presently, he did thirty stomach crunches before coming down and doing fifty press-ups. He used a skipping rope to exercise for a while before taking a quick shower.

  He had a breakfast of cereal, pancakes, bacon and toast bread, which he washed down with some apple juice and finished it with a succulent apple. He came with the apple and sat before the sewing machine he had at one corner of his living room.

  * * * * *

  When Rosina arrived at work there was a high-powered meeting.

  The channel’s Programme Coordinator, Eric Sheindlin, addressed the people gathered around the table. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, as was already discussed in previous meetin
gs; I’m hereby presenting you with the final proposals for our new 30-minute show. Issues were raised in the last meeting about the structure of the show as well as time considerations in connection with advertisers. After a careful and diligent study of our programme schedule, I hereby propose that the new show be on Sundays at 16.30—.’

  Rosina interjected, ‘But that’s my time.’

  ‘That’s why you’re here, Miss Ameliano,’ said the Chairman of the meeting quietly.

  Sheindlin continued. ‘After pre-screening reviews were conducted with prospective advertisers all advertising space of the show have been sold out, and we also have a long list of bidders for advertising space if the show is a success with audiences. I can safely say, ladies and gentlemen,’ he permitted a smug smile to come to his face, ‘we have a potential hit in our hands.’

  Nods everywhere.

  Rosina hated the obsequious bastards. ‘Excuse me,’ she cleared her throat. ‘Where will my show be accommodated?’

  ‘We’re shelving it,’ responded Sheindlin.

  Rosina was positively shocked. ‘You are scraping my show!’ She had intended it to come out as a question, but the words managed to turn themselves into an exclamation of astonishment.

  ‘There is no funding for The Book Show, Miss Ameliano. Advertisers are scarce, and frankly, for the past six months the show has met challenges…audience-wise.’

  ‘Bullshit!’ Rosina exploded heatedly and leapt to her feet. ‘From its inception, The Book Show was and has never been about generating money. It is bout engendering a culture of reading among our youth, who are faced on a daily basis with other less tiresome but more stimulating activities to divert their minds to. It is a public service—.’

  ‘Sit down, Miss Ameliano,’ the Chairman ordered calmly.