Dangerous Love Affair

Monalise and Rafael

It only took me twenty minutes to shower and get dressed. I was blow drying my curls when my mom finally came to look for me. Her coat was off, but she was still wearing her high heeled boots. She looked upset with me.

"It's almost 11, and we need to get to this auction by 1," her eyes watched me blow dry my hair. She always loved my curls when I was a little girl, so I knew she was admiring them, "Rafael says to call him when you're all done. I have my driver waiting downstairs, so hurry up."

She closed the door behind her, and I rolled my eyes. Nevertheless, I rushed to finish my hair and apply light make up. Instead of dressing like I was going to a photoshoot like my mom, I chose a graphic tee and tucked it into a black leather skirt. I chose my favorite pointy Louboutin's. I grabbed my clutch from my collection of purses. I checked myself in the mirror before walking downstairs. My mom was on the phone sipping from a smoothie. There was another one in front of her which I figured was mine.

She turned her head when she heard my heels against the hard wood floors. She extended the second smoothie towards me, which I grabbed, and got up from where she was sitting. Without a word, she started walking towards the front door. I followed after her, preparing myself for another one of these events.

It didn't surprise me that my mom and I were the only black ones there, seeing as that was a common event. What surprised me was how clearly misrepresented we were in these social events. Everyone expected my mom and I to know all about the African art as if we had spent time with them. All of the art had descriptive paragraphs next to them so I wasn't sure why anyone thought my mother and I would have any inside scoop on how the art came to be.

After an awkward conversation with a man who claimed to be an artist who studied under Pablo Picasso, I went in search of my mom. The big space was filled with so many people, it was hard to get through without rubbing my entire body across someone. I finally made it to a rather spacious area but still no sight of my mom. I shrugged and grabbed a glass of wine from a platter beside me. I walked to a wall full of paintings and gazed at one with a woman looking at the moon from her second story balcony. She had on nothing but a sheer blanket covering her naked body. It clung to her like a second skin. The fine detail was incredible, even to the rust on the railing of the balcony. It seemed so real.

"I hear if you stare too long, you'll inherit her beauty. Not that you'd need any help with that."

I turned to see who was talking and gasped. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't resist myself. He was beautiful. Tall, eyes the color of honey, and dark features. He reminded me of an actor from my mom's soap operas, Cauã Reymond Marques.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you," he smiled, and dimples adorned his cheeks. He held out his hand to me, "Levi."

I cleared my throat and placed my hand in his, "Mona. Monalise, actually."

He was talking but I was barely listening. Instead, I was discreetly studying his features. The black, cotton, long-sleeve did nothing to hide how muscular he was. His cologne, Clive Christian, filled my nostrils deliciously. I didn't mean to be eye fucking him so publicly while my gigantic wedding ring could be seen. My eyes trailed back up to his plump pink lips. They weren't moving, instead they were set in a smirk.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He chuckled. Clearly, I wasn't as subtle as I intended to be.

"I said, are you here alone?" His eyes looked down at my wedding ring then back up at me. Busted.

I took a step back when I realized how close to him I was standing. I wondered just then if anyone else was watching our exchange.

"Oh, no. My mom is around here somewhere," I glanced around me annoyed that I couldn't spot her, "She shouldn't be this hard to find. Were the only ones who look different around here."