Chapter Two
Ian scanned the dimly lit dining room of the Gourmet Mudd. There was only one face he was looking for. He usually had no trouble finding her in a crowd, because to him, she stood out like a flower in a field full of weeds. It was her long auburn waves, falling all the way to her waist, surrounding her petite frame, he noticed first. Then of course, her joyful laughter always gave her away. If there was a crowd gathered around, he generally found her in the middle, always the source of everyone’s attention.
She wasn’t inside. He thought that strange because her car was parked out front, and they had made plans to meet here. He checked the time on his cell and noticed he was a little early. He figured Felicitas might be in the restroom, counseling some poor soul. She did it often. It seemed like every week, one of the girls in her purity club would give in to her lustful passions and sleep with her boyfriend, only to be jilted by him a week later. Then, and only then, was there any remorse for the action. The girl would spend hours crying over her lost virginity, and Felicitas would spend hours trying to comfort and encourage her.
Ian went ahead and ordered Felicitas a hot apple cider and then grabbed their corner table. He hadn’t been sitting very long before Catlin helped herself to the chair across from him, taking advantage of the fact Felicitas hadn ’t arrived.
Ian sighed. He would have to put up with Catlin’s flirting and desperate attempts to steal him for herself. He didn’t think she was very pretty, and her voice annoyed him, but she was a big fan of his band and promoted them shamelessly. He endured her for that reason alone. He often wondered how she would react if he told her she couldn’t compare at all to Felicitas, and that her thin, fried, overly bleached hair and fake tan repulsed him, not to mention the fact that he knew she would give herself to him in a moment if he asked.
Felicitas was different. Her soul was as pure as her body, and it was her body that he craved. To him it was the perfect specimen of feminine beauty; but unfortunately, off limits. It was the standard she set for herself, and being her boyfriend, he was bound by it. He spent the better part of a year begging her to give in a little, but she held true to her desire to remain pure, reminding him how great it would be on their wedding night, if they waited. She was a great kisser and fortunately engaged in that quite freely with him. But as soon as his hands began to stray, she would cut the passion instantly, leaving him hurting. He often wondered how she could be so strong and stop her desires so easily.
Catlin leaned across the table, interrupting his fantasies of Felicitas, trying to show him what little cleavage she had. It was a new record for her, less than thirty seconds at the table, and she had already disgusted him.
“Hey Ian.” she said, running her tongue over her teeth. “I’m coming to your show tonight. I got a fake ID.”
“That’s great.” He flashed a phony smile.
“I offered to get Taz one, so she could come too, but she said no. Hope you’re not too disappointed.”
Ian sipped his cider and looked over the dimly lit room for Felicitas again.
“No, I’m not disappointed. I don’t like her coming to the clubs when I play. The guys try and pick up on her while I’m on stage playing, and I can’t do anything about it. It’s torture, so I told her to stay here and go to the game.”
Catlin fluffed her hair with her hands and tilted her head.
“So, you gonna protect me tonight if I need it?”
He figured a few desperate guys, who had a couple of drinks in them, might try and pick up Catlin. She acted like the typical bar girl, looking for a one-night stand. High school girls annoyed him. He wanted her to leave, and he wanted his lovely Felicitas to be the one leaning toward him, revealing too much of her ivory breast, flirting, while her cornflower blue eyes danced with laughter
