CHERRY BLOSSOMS

PREVIEW

Chapter One

Geoff J. Kane was on a deadline, but tonight he was silkscreening. In three weeks he had to turn in fourteen large scale drawings of happy trains for his editor. The Big Book of Choo. A three-to-six-year-old readers’ favourite, and award winner, the bestselling Choo original had spawned this sequel. The first book, The Little Book of Choo, was in its eighth printing. The publishers had to shake their wallets out to get him to draw that many trains again. On top of the trains, he had three books about farm animals, a kind of a sad book about divorce, and three covers for Scholastic books. Geoff’s inimitable style had become a hot children’s commodity since Little Choo came out three years ago.

The fourteen drawings could wait. He knew his pace. He wasn’t worried. In eight weeks there was an expo in Toronto where he had a table and he wanted an inventory of prints to sell.

So, his garage space studio, out back of the Roncesvalles fully detached two-story, had been transformed. All his tables had wheels on them that could roll them around wherever he wanted on the polished and painted concrete floor. The computer tables and ink station were pushed to the side, and in the centre he had one cleared table with all his silkscreening gear.

He was printing one lone image: a cheeky monkey, stylized and happy, almost sugary. Conjuring up Hong Kong Phooey and Paul Pope and Miyazaki all at once. Whatever the reason, this bold simple image worked. Drawn with ink and dirty brushes, scanned, cleaned, Photoshopped, run through his Ryonet exposure unit, then screened by hand with purplish Speedball on a cherry-stained dove-tailed box he’d built himself. There were fresh prints on countless 100lb peach-orange sheets, draped over every surface in the studio; over his iMacs, his paintbrushes, his mechanic’s chest filled with quills and inks and exotic pieces he’d ordered online and not yet used, even sheets draped over his prized Cinelli ten-speed propped against a white painted brick wall.

The baby monitor was spared coverage. The screen needed to be viewed. Little Odele was seven years old now, but the garage was detached from the house and mommy was out with her friends. He never liked his eyes off her, anyway. Odie was tucked into her bed, a silky tapestry hanging from the ceiling and draped around the bed. A big stylish old oak tree he’d painted in white against a pink wall wrapped its gnarly arms around her. She was fast asleep.

Fuck, it was past 3 A.M. Where was Nia?

Nia had gone out with some of her old friends from Woodbridge. Bunch of Italian girls from her old neighbourhood getting together, coming into the city and going out to Square on Queen Street. A dance club, a young crowd, rooftop patio. Not a thing from her current life, but very much like something young Nia would have done on a Friday night when he’d first met her. That was an intimidating Nia. Thinking about those early days with her could cramp his stomach.

Nia was wild, a lot of fun. Nothing like his white-bread suburban ass was used to dealing with. She smoked, she cursed, she was s-e-x-u-a-l. He’d only ever slept with three girls, and talking to Nia back then always made his palms sweat, and he’d get this weird nervous tension thing where his ears would ring powerfully. Nia was a lot to handle. But she was the one. The one for him. Under all of it, there was a kind and loving person and she responded to him. Geoff was her friend first. Shit, for two years at York University he’d been her shoulder to cry on when some complete fucking asshole dumped her, not seeing how amazing she truly was. Then, gradually, she would look into his eyes a little longer. Nia was considering him in a new way. One night she kissed him. She kissed him. He’d always wanted to do it. In two years, seeing her almost every day, he never got the nerve. One night she decides she likes him and bam, she locks lips. After that kiss, there was no looking back. It was on. Once he had her, he’d never let her go.

A car door thunked in the back alley. The converted garage opened out behind the house to a wide, well-lit and treed alley that separated it from the backs of the other houses on Garden Street.

There Nia was, getting out of a green and orange taxi. Long legs—so long—high heels and the short fuchsia skirt of her dress peeking out below her jacket. Exactly like that sexy twenty-year-old he’d longed for back at University. He smiled, watching her walk boldly up to the garage, seeing his studio lights still on. She was bold but obviously clumsy. His bad girl had a few too many glasses of wine.

“Oh, Nia,” he whispered and laughed, watching her pretty face smiling to him, catching him spying on her from the small square window in the wall that used to be a garage door. Their Volvo sat outside the door in the short, gravelly mouth that led off the alley. Nia ran her hand along it as she passed, trying to steady herself. He opened the door for her and let her in.

“Hi, baby,” she said, very high and breathy. Happy to see him. Geoff hugged her tight saying, “I guess you had fun tonight.”

“Mm—I did,” she sang, hugged him back and rocked gently with him.

Nia was tall. Taller than him in her heels. His Greek goddess. She had thick, lustrous black hair that hung in waves and natural rings. She smelled like Chanel and wine and cigarette smoke and her familiar woman smell. She’d been hot and sweaty from dancing.

He ran his hands on her back, sneaking them up under her jacket. “I missed you tonight,” he said.

Nia’s arms draped over his shoulders, her clutch held in her hand. Under half-lidded black-makeup eyes she regarded him coolly. “I missed you, too.”

“How are Angie and Donna?”

“Great, it was so good to see them.” She kissed his lips lightly, pulled back and smiled crooked. Nia was so beautiful it still intimidated him, even after fourteen years of knowing her. She had strong features; a Roman nose, a sharp jaw, and dark, dark eyes. At night they looked black. They were rimmed with shadow, and the way she stood, a hair taller than him, he felt a bit like prey.

“All the girls show up?”

“A bunch from high school. From Woodbridge.”

“Aw, did you catch up?”

“Nah, just had fun. It was too loud. We danced. You know . . .”

“Had some drinks?”

“We did.” Her smile widened to show her white teeth past the deep red lipstick.

Nia turned her back to him, threw her clutch onto a clear corner of a table, and took her jacket off. The dress hugged her slender frame. The bare olive muscles of her back worked as she took her jacket, folded it and plopped it on a stool. Nia was thirty-three, but she looked twenty still. Smooth Mediterranean skin, glowing with health and vigour, long legs that showed muscle and grace, painted toes pointed into a pair of black stilettos.

“You’ve been busy,” she said, looking around at all the prints, face up and drying.

“Yeah, I totally lost track of time, I—”

“You weren’t staying up to discipline your naughty wife, she was—”

“Do you need discipline?”

“Maybe.”

“Were you flirting tonight? Like you’re flirting with me,” he said.

“Oh shit!” Nia clapped her hands and stomped a high heel foot. Her face lit up with happiness at some great news. “Guess who got a job?”

“You did? Really?”

It was time. They’d talked about it. Odele back in school for a year, Nia was getting antsy around the house. She’d been his companion around here, his assistant, but she was eager to work away from the house. The children’s books were selling, but the first one, the bestseller, was freelance illustration. No royalties. Money was coming in pretty good on new jobs, but a little more wouldn’t hurt. Toronto was not getting cheaper.

“Yeah, yeah, I did, I think,” she said, and she tip-toed to him again and put her arms around him.

“That’s so great, Nia, so amazing, baby. What is it?”

“Like an assistant. A secretary, some bookkeeping. A... pool company, in Etobicoke.”

“That’s awesome, Nia. How did you—”

Her expression seemed troubled. Like good news and bad news. She was happy but there was a little problem.

Her voice went high, ending everything with a question. “Dino...uh...Dragonieri? Uh...his brother, Rocco? He...uh...has a pool company...”

“Dino?” Her ex-boyfriend. Firefighter.

“Yeah,” she said, “his brother, Rocco.”

Geoff frowned. “How did you get the job?”

“Well, he was there tonight.” Nia looked away from his eyes by a degree.

“Rocco?”

“No...Dino.”

“Oh,” he nodded, looked away too.

“Geoff, baby, come on...”

“I thought it was only you and the girls...I didn’t go...”

“I didn’t know he was going to be there, Geoff, I swear. Dino tagged along with some other guys from school too. The guys came down because the girls were... They weren’t supposed to be coming.”

God, she’d stabbed him in the guts with this. Here he was thirty-three, and he felt like he was dating again, like he hadn’t yet married and nailed down this love of his life in front of him. This was shades of University. Nia crying on his shoulder because some jerk had cheated on her or brushed her off after three weeks of dating. He’d console her and think how crazy those guys were. What did they have that he didn’t? These guys were good enough to get her eye, date her, but wouldn’t keep her? How could they callously slough off a gem like Nia?

He’d just time-travelled and all he wanted was to race back to the present, last night at least, laying on the couch with his wife and daughter, popcorn bowl and pyjamas, rubbing Nia’s feet and ankles through her long comfy socks.

Nia said, “Geoff?” Her brows had gone up, worried for him.

“I’m okay,” he lied. “Whatever.”

Geoff tried to pull away, but Nia wouldn’t let him. Her arms held their grip and he struggled, but she held him tighter. “Not whatever, Geoff. Not whatever. Come on. I swear I didn’t know, and it doesn’t matter anyway, does it? That was all a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at the floor. A peach sheet had strayed, his dumb cheeky monkey looking up and giving him a wink.

Nia’s fingers scratched through the hair at the back of his head. “Ooh, I’m seeing old Geoff tonight, am I?”

He chuckled. “Who is old Geoff?”

“Old woe-is-me-Geoff.”

“Woe-is-me?”

Nia hugged him and giggled. “The Geoff who let me date all those men and cry on his shoulder, never once letting me know he was dying inside over it.”

“I’m not dying inside over Dino tonight.”

“You’re also not throwing me over the arm of that couch and giving me what I came in here for.” She smiled widely and squinted her black eyes.

“Is that what Dino would do?” Oh God, he was irritating himself. Listen to you whine, Geoff.

Nia held his gaze saying, “Dino probably would. We’d be on our second time already since I got out of that cab.”

“Nia, don’t be gross.”

Nia looked at him coldly, raised her eyebrows, her face firm and unimpressed. She rolled her eyes as she let her embrace go, turned, and reached to her jacket.

Geoff stepped quickly and grabbed her, put his arms around her waist, and held tight. Something happened. He felt transported to that trying time, thirteen years ago when he would listen to her sob stories about men who amounted to nothing and he would nod, stroke her shining hair and ache for her. His heart swelled.

He wasn’t that guy anymore.

Holy fuck, he forgot how far they’d come. That Nia was goddamn his. He’d fucking got her.

The courtship was slow and sweet, and somehow that painful two-year window had the curtains closed on it. But this tonight whisked them open sharply, and he was going to fuck that young Nia tonight over the leather couch in his studio, bathed in its bright, stinging light. Like he should have thirteen fucking years ago.

His stomach, his heart—all clamped in pain for her. He loved her desperately. The idea of her with someone else clenched his insides, squished his organs in its grip until his eyes fogged.

Geoff threw her on the couch. Hard.

“Ow, Geoff!” Nia stumbled in her heels and fell on her front onto the seat of the couch. Her head whipped around to face him, eyes fierce and sparkling. She looked like an animal.

He was on her fast, chest pressing her back, crushing her into the couch. Nia’s knees pressed into the concrete floor of the old garage. Geoff bit her neck and his hands reached between them and he pulled up the tight, slim skirt of her dress.

Nia growled.

He slapped her ass. He’d never slapped her ass in all the years he’d known her, which was crazy because he wanted to. And it felt so good. He slapped her again. Nia liked it. Her taut flesh bounced and jiggled.

“Were you flirting with men tonight?” he asked her, his hand smoothing her ass, going around her firm, smooth globe.

“Yes!” she hissed.

“You got drunk and acted like a fool, didn’t you?”

“I did,” she whispered, rubbing her ass back against his hand and into his hips.

“Did you make a fool out of me?”

“Yes.”

“Flirting with men in front of your friends?”

“Men flirt with me...” she hissed.

“Tell me you didn’t flirt back.”

He could see her smile. She was so beautiful. This was crazy. He was mad at her. Mad at her for who she was thirteen years ago. Talking to her like he wanted to back then. His cock was so hard it scratched against the front of his sweatpants.

Nia laughed. “Okay, I fucking flirted.”

“Did you flirt with Dino?”

“He started it,” she whispered.

Geoff gripped a handful of her hair and pulled her head up to face the ceiling, her long neck exposed and vulnerable. Nia let him do it. His wife was letting him treat her like this. His other hand smoothed her cheek, caressed the back of her sensitive thigh, and made her tremble. Nia spread her legs. He brought that hand up to her hot, wet centre. Her silk panties were damp. He felt the heat from her insides against the pad of his thumb. “Should I be worried?”

She gasped, “He’s married and I’m married.”

“But otherwise?”

Nia’s face broke into a big devious smile, bright white teeth glistening in the dim lamp lit studio. “You married a bad girl. You like that, remember?”

“I do. I did.”

“I rocked your world, didn’t I?”

His balls suddenly exploded in pain. Nia’s hands were trapped between the two of them, but his crafty wife had detected his testicles hanging in his sweatpants, and now she had them clutched in her painful grasp.

“Ah, hoo, you sure did.” Geoff let go of her hair, put his arm out on the couch to brace himself.

“I know I rocked your world.”

“Hoo, you’ve got a good grip there.” He winced. She was really hurting him.

“These balls are mine. I’ll grab them however I want.” Nia squeezed them harder. “You like that?”

“Ow, holy fuck, yeah, I do. Easy, easy.”