I Want Candy Read online

  “I bet!” Candy acknowledged.

  “I think what you achieved this year is fantastic, Candy. You’re an innovative thinker. I like that. I’ve always professed that the way to get money is to give money, and you seem to understand that concept completely. The first thing people want to do during a recession is pinch their pennies. That’s the wrong thing to do. This is the time to use what you have and make it grow. Invest in people during hard times, and you’ll see results, as long as they’re the right people. This is the time to buy stock and start that small business. We have an incredible opportunity in the midst of this crisis.” Quentin smiled, then finished off the rest of his beer.

  “I totally agree. I didn’t feel that the Sales & Marketing team was motivated anymore because there wasn’t anything new to put a pulse in their veins. They hadn’t been reasonably compensated either. We needed them to sell in order for us to get out of this, and I’m glad they didn’t make a fool of me!” Candy laughed.

  “No they didn’t – but enough about business. I want to know a little about you.” Quentin leaned in closer. Candy smelled the mild, soapy fragrance of his skin, his musky cologne, and subtle aftershave.

  “Well,” Candy smiled, “what would you like to know?”

  “What do you like to do? What are some of your favorite things? May I take you out for dinner sometime?” Quentin grinned. Candy smiled, then laughed.

  “What?” Quentin smiled, “Too forward?” he asked, his dimples digging deep.

  “No, no. Well – I like to cook. I like to read. I love to travel, so coming here was nice. I’ve never been to Canada before.” Candy crossed her legs and took a sip of her dirty martini.

  “And what about my last question? You probably have a man, right?” Quentin asked, feigning a sad expression. Candy shook her head “no.”

  “No, you don’t have a man or no, you won’t go out with me?” he asked.

  “No, I’m not in a relationship right now,” Candy clarified, grinning.

  “OK then. So unless you find me repulsive, can we arrange this?” Quentin urged, sliding his arm along the back of her chair as he chuckled.

  Candy laughed. “OK, I think I can do that.” Quentin grinned and pulled out his Android phone.

  “May I have the best number to reach you?” he asked as he entered her name. “I’m in Chicago, you’re in Cincinnati. That’s not terribly far. I can probably swing out your way in a week or so. Is your schedule open next Saturday.”

  “I don’t have my planner with me, so I can’t recall really. I’m gonna have to follow up with you,” Candy answered, with her lip slightly turned up.

  “You mean to tell me that they don’t keep you plugged in at all times? Well, aren’t you lucky!” he teased. “OK, if you don’t call me though, I’m gonna call you. I’m persistent,” he laughed.

  “I’ll call you. I promise. Your number is in the directory,” Candy added.

  “Well, take this. This is my personal number.” Quentin grabbed a cocktail napkin and wrote down his personal cell and home numbers, handing them to Candy. He stood abruptly, then leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You’re brains and beauty, the ultimate catch. I can’t wait to get to know you better.” He walked away and joined a group of IT professionals on the other side of the room. Candy exhaled, his scent still lingering in the air as she polished off her martini. Gabriel stood and waved to her from across the room. Candy smiled and waved back. She then drifted back to her thoughts of Quentin.

  ‘Damn, he’s fine!’ she thought with a smirk. Feeling her sleepiness creep in again, she returned to her cushy hotel room and slept with an Egyptian cotton pillow securely between her thick, brown sugar thighs.

  * * *

  ‘What the hell does he want?’ Candy thought, slamming her laptop shut as she snapped out of her daydream. She reached across the table for the hot cup of Starbucks coffee, took a few sips, and exhaled as she let her head fall back. She sighed then gathered a folder from her desk and headed to the Accounting Department for her morning meeting. Her thoughts drifted in and out as papers were shuffled, presentations were given, and changes to the new 401k program were discussed. She tried desperately to concentrate but was unable. She doodled hearts and 3-D boxes and prayed no one would ask her to speak. Her curiosity was getting the best of her though she tried to push Quentin out of her thoughts.

  After the meeting was over, Candy stood in front of the vending machine. She surveyed the options – Peanut M&Ms, stale chocolate Debbie’s rolls, Star Crunches, Doritos, Soft Batch cookies, gum – decisions, decisions. She deliberated for over sixty seconds before finally taking out the coins from her purse. She listened as they rolled into the machine. The spiral arm holding the Snickers bar rotated round and round. It was the last one, winding its way towards her in a sensual dance until finally it lay helpless in the black tray, waiting to be disrobed and ravished. Candy slid her perfectly manicured hand through the door, grabbed hold of the candy bar in its smooth brown wrapper, and scurried off to the secrecy of her office. There an egg salad sandwich, potato chips, and sweet beverage awaited. The receptionist had taken orders earlier in the day for the popular Jewish deli that was two blocks away. Candy loved their egg salad, so she made sure it was understood that she wanted the full sandwich, not half.

  She closed the door quietly behind her and sat down, crossing her thick legs as she gently opened the brown paper bag. She reached inside, pulling out the wrapped sandwich. The egg salad, thick with mayo, was smashed against the clear plastic. She opened it, laying it on her desk as she returned to the bag, pulling out the chips and folding the bag neatly into a small square. She shook the ice in her extra-large cup of fruit punch. Taking the straw slowly into her mouth, she closed her eyes as she sucked and swallowed. She opened her chips and then turned on her laptop. There the email from Quentin sat. She turned away, taking a big bite of her sandwich as her stomach twisted in knots. She grimaced as she took the last bite of her sandwich, then unwrapped the Snickers bar and broke it in half. She studied the halves, seeing which one was slightly larger. Stuffing it into her mouth, she looked back at his email and began to reply.

  To: Quentin Evans

  From: Candy Benet

  Date: July 6

  Subject: Re:

  Quentin,

  What could you possibly want?

  “No,” Candy said out loud. “Delete.”

  Quentin,

  I had to try to remember who you were at first. Now I recall. Hope all is well.

  - Candy

  “That’s even worse!” Candy said out loud. “Delete.”

  Quentin,

  I’m rather busy and short on time, but I didn’t want to be rude and not respond to your message. Please let me know what it is you wish to discuss. I’m on my way to a meeting, then I’ll be away from the office for a while, so I may not be able to respond promptly.

  - Candy

  “Perfect,” she smiled as she pressed “Send.” She looked at the other half of the Snickers and wrapped it up for later, placing it into her pencil drawer while daydreaming of what she needed to do after work. A knock came at the door. “Yes?” Candy asked, looking up as the door slowly swung open.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch break, Candy,” Gabriel said as he entered. “I just wanted you to see these reports from Accounting. Something isn’t right here. Do you mind if I sit down?” he asked, brandishing his familiar charming smile.

  “No, not at all,” Candy smiled graciously. “Mr. Justice, I’ve always admired that, even with your busy schedule, you keep a pulse on what’s going on in all departments. It really helps us all out a lot. I’d imagine most CEOs would want someone else to take care of these things.” Mr. Justice smiled, rubbing his hand through his soft, dark brown hair. His graying temples gave him a look of distinction. His features were soft. He appeared younger than he actually was, despite the streaks in his mane and strong jawline.

  “Thank you, Candy. I really woul
dn’t know any other way to be,” he said as he took a seat.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Candy asked as Mr. Justice handed her the report.

  “Compare January’s forecast and our current position. It’s July, and we’re almost at the limit, yet there’s no explanation. I asked Katie in Accounts Receivable and Judy in Accounts Payable to check for anything unscrupulous. I’ve debated putting a freeze on the Sales team’s spending accounts. I believe that expense reports may be embellished, but I’m not sure who the culprit is.”

  “Certainly this is higher than last year,” Candy said as she flipped through the papers. “I don’t see anything unusual though. Typically, there’s a red flag like a sudden influx of new orders set up with a new company. I don’t see any business trips that warranted a large expenditure. None of this is out of the ordinary. Last July, we asked all departments to forecast their business expenses for this year. From what I see, all are listed. Fuel charges are higher,” Candy said as she continued to study. “Fuel reimbursement would be higher because gas has skyrocketed this year. This would account for the eighteen percent jump of the budgeted amount there.” Candy pointed to the spreadsheet in the report, showing Mr. Justice.

  He nodded. “That would explain some of it, but we’re still about $235,000 in the red.”

  Candy continued to read. “OK, I see airline fares also went up, most likely due to fuel, Mr. Justice. Our approved rental car company charged an average of twelve percent more. Two of the most commonly utilized hotels also increased their rates. I see checked bags went up twenty-five dollars each. On top of all of this, one of the hotels now charges five percent more for parking each day. This would explain at least $25,000 of the increased cost. Let me keep combing through here, and I’ll highlight everything that contributed to the increases,” Candy smiled.

  “Thank you, Candy. I knew I could count on you. As long as the reasons are legitimate, I’m fine, but I don’t want a repeat of what happened five years ago, before you arrived.”

  “No problem. That’s why we stay on top of this – so it won’t occur again,” Candy assured as she rose to shake his hand. As she bent back down to take her seat, Gabriel caught a glimpse of her ample cleavage. Candy looked up, her dark-brown eyes meeting his light-hazel ones. Gabriel quickly looked away. There was an awkward silence.

  “Um, Candy, can I ask you something else?”

  “Of course.” Candy crossed her arms over her breasts and looked up at him from her desk.

  “Remember when I was going through my divorce a year and a half ago and I didn’t tell anyone? You sent me a card with an uplifting message. There was a cat hanging onto a rope. It said something to the effect of ‘Hang in there, Kiddo.’”

  “Yes, I remember,” Candy answered as Gabriel made his way to the door.

  “I never asked you, but it’s been on my mind – how did you know? I didn’t tell anyone about my divorce – not a soul.” His face was riddled with earnest curiosity. Candy laughed and looked down at her desk briefly, the lingering scent of egg salad filling the air.

  “Let’s just say I didn’t know the details, but I knew the look. When someone is going through a trying time, especially a broken union, it’s difficult to hide that sort of pain,” she explained. “You just had the look.”

  “I see. I didn’t realize I was so obvious.” He crossed his arms. “Mr. Justice, you weren’t, really. I just…I just knew. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Firstly, I’ve been asking you for five years to please call me ‘Gabriel,’ and secondly, I do think I understand what you’re saying. I’m not one to wear my emotions on my sleeve, but you saw through my façade. That’s very observant on your part. My life is so much different than I ever imagined now. My daughter, Allison, made it all worthwhile. Thank you for being so kind. It really meant a lot. Well, I have to head up to an important meeting with those investors I spoke to you about. Thanks again.”

  Candy looked up and smiled, “You’re welcome.” Just then she noticed a small white stain on his black tie. She stood up out of her chair. “Hold on a second.” She grabbed her bottle of water and a paper towel and walked towards him. Gabriel looked at her in confusion.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You have got a stain on your tie. I’d hate for you to walk into the meeting like that.”

  Gabriel looked down. “Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have grabbed that little container of milk. It looks like some of it dribbled.” Candy removed the cap from her water bottle, poured a little on the paper towel and began to lightly blot the area.

  Gabriel exhaled deeply as he watched her. He looked down at her hands, moving to and fro across the fabric as she gripped the white towel in her hand. He turned away momentarily, then looked back at her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He licked his lips as she continued, the silence growing, as well as his nether region. He abruptly stepped back from her. “Uh, thank you, Candace. That’s just fine. It’s much better now.” He waved quickly and exited the office before she could respond.

  Candy stood there in a state of confusion. She smelled his cologne in the air, smiled, then returned to her desk and contemplated the conversation they just had. She proceeded to take the cap off her highlighter and comb through the long report before her.

  THAT’S-WHAT-FRIENDS-ARE-FOR STEW

  2 large potatoes, sliced thinly

  3 carrots, chopped to communication perfection

  1 large onion, diced to death over the details

  Observe, observe, observe.

  Serve hot or cold anytime of night.

  That’s what this stew is for.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 2

  “There are times…when you need someone. I’ll be by your side!” Candy sang “The Light” by Common and Bobby Caldwell as she lit her Patchouli rain incense and lavender candles. She ran her hand through her hair as she looked in the mirror, admiring her nose. Taking her dust cloth, she went over her baseboards meticulously as her cat, Enchanted, rubbed up against her rear. Smiling and bobbing her head, she continued to clean as the cool breeze climbed through her window, swirling the incense smoke in mystical shapes. As she worked her wrist into the crevice of the corner, she heard her cell phone ringing in the next room. She sighed and slowly stood. She walked into her dining room. In the middle of the room was her eight-chaired mahogany table with gold and ebony hand-sewn table runner. In the center of the table was a large ceramic vase that held long-stem ivory calla lilies. Each seat had a carefully placed gold table mat with a shiny black plate, a matching bowl atop it, and gold-handled silverware carefully placed on linen napkins. Above the napkins were golden goblets for each setting, each upon black pyramid-shaped coasters. Candy had haphazardly laid her phone on the table as she walked into the kitchen to grab her cleaning supplies from under the sink. It had become a ritual for her. Every Saturday at noon, she’d scrub her house from top to bottom. This would last sometimes until 8:00 or 9:00 in the evening. After that, she would grab her carryout menus and peruse them, making the paramount decision of what she would eat for dinner. Would it be Peking duck, burritos with green chilies, or the Chicago-style pizza? She never wanted to sully her freshly cleaned kitchen by soiling it with oils and pungent spices, so it was her evening to treat herself to a meal that wasn’t prepared at home.

  Candy looked at the caller-ID. The number seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. No name appeared on the screen. She debated answering it as she held the dust cloth in one hand and the phone in the other.

  “Hello?” she finally answered, turning her iPod speakers down.

  “Hi, Candy,” came the familiar deep voice. “I hope you don’t mind. I got your number from the office yesterday.”

  Candy’s tongue felt like it was covered in cement.

  “Hello?” repeated the voice.

  “Yes, Quentin,” Candy said after catching her breath. She slid down into one of the chairs at the dining room table. She
flexed her bare feet, her freshly painted hot pink toenails shining in the light.

  Quentin gave a nervous chuckle. “You don’t sound exactly happy to hear from me.”

  “I told you I had a heavy workload and asked you to tell me what this was all about, but you never emailed me back.”

  “Well, I figured a phone call would be more appropriate. E-mail is so impersonal,” Quentin explained.

  “But that didn’t stop you from sending a text message to let me know that you and I were over,” Candy said. She immediately regretted saying it. She didn’t want him to know that she was still wounded.

  Quentin sighed. “I suppose I deserved that. Look Candy, I want to apologize to you. You’ve been on my mind lately and…Man, I miss you.”

  Candy paused a moment before responding. “That’s very touching and all, and I’m glad that you have fond memories, Quentin, but I can’t say the feeling’s mutual. You hurt me very badly, and I’ve finally gotten over it. I’m not upset with you anymore. I just really have no desire to reopen the door.” Her voice trailed off as images of their failed relationship re-emerged.

  “I knew this would be an uphill battle. Candy, I still care about you. I still…” he paused for emphasis, “love you. I messed up. I guess I was scared and ran. We had something really special.”

  “So special that you ran back to your ex-girlfriend. Look Quentin, I’m truly not trying to give you a hard time, I just can’t afford to give a damn about you anymore. I think…”

  “I know that’s a lie. You do give a damn about me, and I’m gonna give you some time. I’m gonna leave you with this: I love you. I want you back. I want to be with you. I miss our conversations, our friendship, and the beautiful lovemaking. Take all the time you want, but just know I’m back.” He hung up the phone.