Chapter Text
Cairo stood in the crowd, lips red and hair dark. Her style had grown more professional since attending Yale. She wore cuffed jeans, loafers, and a cuffed blazer. She still had a thing for button up shirts but now she kept the top unbuttoned. Her hair was much longer and she wore it in a plait that spilled over her shoulder.
She freelanced as a journalist, writing reviews of authors and their books. She weaved a heavy web over the years, keeping a close eye on Jonathan Miller.
That’s why she was here, in this bookshop. He wrote about them. He had turned their story into a work that resembled his own and yet bridged the assignment of Henry Miller. He wrote her assignment.
At first she felt angry but the more she read, the softer her anger became. Cairo wept when she reached the end. And then she felt a familiar fire deep in her belly that had raged all those years ago. She had wanted to temper that yearning that Mr. Miller had triggered within her. She had climaxed many times reading and rereading his novel.
Mr. Miller had never remarried. Cairo reminded herself of this detail as she stood, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. Her eyes flashed around the room. Maybe she should have worn a dress to stand out in this crowd. She wanted him to see her. She had opted for the red lipstick, knowing that her dark hair and lips would stand out all on their own.
She just knew he would remember her.
He had written about them. That was enough to let her know he remembered her.
Over the years, Mr Miller had written many books but none were about them. He wrote about feelings and nature and being free and having a sense of self. Until finally, he wrote about forbidden romance.
Cairo had seen where she messed up all those years ago. The assignment hadn't been to write porn but to allude to the darkness that tempts everyone. He wrote about his desire to youth, the trap of flesh and soft touches. He wrote of rejection and deceit. He confided his betrayal with monogamy only in emotion at first, then with firm hand to his own flesh.
Cairo had burned when she got to that point. She smiled and felt warmth pooling down below. She reread his confessions, her fingers deep inside herself as her palm carressed her nub. She read the passage again and again, each time hastening her pace on her core until she reached her climax. Her release was loud and intense. She felt closer to Mr Miller in those moments. Even when his shoulder touched her own at Sally Bunny’s all those years ago, his legs widening to touch his thigh to her own. She had wanted to put her hand on his lap. She had wanted to outline the bulge of his cock. She had wanted to explore him so much more.
Cairo closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. All those years ago she had fucked up. Her pride had called out his fear. She had been right in pressing it further.
Cairo opened her eyes as he stepped up to the podium, his head dipping as he waved to the room of clapping adults. She had fucked up all those years ago.
Her heart and cunt yearned for him. As he spoke in his southern drawl, Cairo had a hard time remembering to breath. He was older and it showed, but so wasn't she.
His gray was grayer but he still wore the same style of clothes. He was still trim and fit. He still kept a beard, short and manicured.
Time slipped by and she hadn't really been listening until he reached the passage where he described his yearning. Cairo felt her body respond, the heat climbing up from deep within. When he talked of his apex, she bit her lip to keep from making noise.
Mr Miller closed the book and smiled out to the clapping adults. Hands raised as the Q&A portion commenced. Cairo turned her recording device on but she didn't raise her own hand. Instead she watched and listened as he made his way through the crowd until he thought all was done.
Cairo raised her hand. How he hadn't seen her the entire time, she will never know, but he saw her now. His face fell and his eyes squinted slightly. He pushed his glasses against his face. He looked nervous and she swore he started to tremble as he nodded to her. Someone handed her a microphone. Cairo smiled sweetly at her Mr Miller as she asked, “You write as if this book is a memory of a romance that you once had. It is clear the temptation affects the protagonist. Was the emotion pure fantasy or did you write it from a real yearning of desire?”
Jonathan held his breath, listening to every word Cairo spoke until she reached her question. He laughed and some of the audience followed his laughter as he asked,”if you mean to ask me if I masturbate, the answer is quite obvious. Most of us in this room have succumbed to that dark devil.”
Cairo inhaled sharply, interrupting the laughter to clarify her true question. “my real inquiry is if the desire you wrote about in the book was real in the sense: was it written about a tangible person or just a fabrication, a dream of what you wished could have been?”
Jonathon cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat at her directness. They both knew who his muse was for this book, but Jonathan saw a girl confirming what he denied her all those years ago. Did he want her? Or did she make it up?
Jonathan's tongue darted across his lower lip. He feigned a smile as his mind raced to find a PC answer. His book was taboo and it would worsen the press of the book if he admitted to it being true. He had the upper hand this time, not Cairo. This was his story, not hers. Yet, as Jonathon continued to look out in the crowd to her, he felt that same yearn for her as he did all those years ago. She was more than an adult now. Here she was, all these years later, standing in a room full of other adults, asking him if had desired her then and if he desired her now.
“The protagonist wrote about a real person. I wrote about the person the protagonist desired. Just like any other man, I too desire what the protagonist wanted: temptation.” He inhaled sharply, praying Cairo would be satiated with his reply. “Temptation can be a vicious figment, tangible and yet so far from being touched. The protaginist is desire and temptation. The answer is yes, it was based off a real tangible experience of temptation, one that has never been indulged.”
She tightened her hand around the microphone, tempted to say more. Instead, she nodded her head and handed the microphone back. Mr Miller's team finished the session by inviting everyone to line up for a book signing. Cairo placed herself at the back of the line. She watched him smile and talk and open book after book, signing fast. She didn't care how long it took, she wanted him to herself, even if for a second.
Finally, it was her turn. He looked to her, a wariness in his features. He didn't smile at her, not like she smiled at him. He was flustered at her presence and she liked it. Cairo put out her own copy of his book on the table, Apostrophes and Ampersands. He looked at the book and laughed when he opened the book to see the library card showing when she had checked the book out. One singular date proved it was overdue by five years. “ Miss Sweet, did you steal a library book from your hometown?”
“Someone once told me one day I would come to appreciate my roots. I figured a souvenir to remind myself wouldn't hurt.” Cairo tilted her head, her smile softening at their banter. Maybe they were both nervous about each other. They had so much unresolved history. Cairo imagined they had much to catch up on.
Jonathon signed the book and then pulled out his new book, signing it too. He stacked the novels and pushed them back to her, taking his glasses off to look at her anew. Cairo tucked both the books into her arms like she used to, holding them close to her chest.
“Your hair is longer,” he drawled lightly
Cairo looked him over (as if she hadn't already) and responded, “You still wear a sweater over your button down. You must melt in the Tennessee sun.”
They laugh together before returning to silence. Cairo opens her mouth to speak as he does the same and again, they laugh at the awkward tandem. Mr Miller starts again, “it was nice seeing you Cairo.”
She bites her lower lip, the motion capturing his eyes to watch as she slowly releases it to respond, “ it was nice seeing you too, Mr Miller.”
Cairo turns, walking in the direction of the door. She continues walking even as her ears hear her name followed by the scraping of a chair and the clipping of heels. She doesn't stop until his hand snags gently at her upper arm, where he turns her back to him. Cairo parts her lips in false surprise when he is close.
“Do you want to get a drink? There is a bar down the street. I have to finish up here but maybe I can meet you in an hour? I would love to catch up.”
Cairo blinks before smiling coyly and nodding. “I would really enjoy that.”