Julian

While watching over her in bed, he saw she heard the ring when her body moved, and she made a slight moaning sound, turning away from the noise.

Julian got up hastily as his phone vibrated and started to ring crescendo. Once outside the room, he picked up and whispered, “Hello?”

“Well, hello to you too, brother of mine! So, what is going on? You have a stranger in your house? Should I be concerned and call the cops? “ Came the chirpy voice of is older sister.

He laughed, exhaling and realizing this was the relief he needed.

He said, “No.” and went on telling her what the deal was from the minute he picked up the woman at LAX to now as she was asleep in his guest room. Melissa was silent for a minute and finally said, “ What is the problem Julian? “

“I don't really know, to tell you the truth...” he replied in a light tone, “Hmm, you seem puzzled, if not rattled, and I have to say this is very odd for you...” She continued laughing, and adding with mirth,

“Have you tried to bang her yet?”

“No.” came the short reply. “Well, this is a first, you go through women like other men go through underwear...” His sister mocked him.

He cut her out, protesting, “I don't even know her name!”

“That never stopped you before!” She insisted.

“True.” He admitted, sheepishly.

“Well, maybe you should snoop in her luggage, that should give you some clues...” She said. The suggestion brought a smile to his face but he heard himself say, “I can't.”

“Why the hell not? “She enquired in a surprised tone.

“It would be invading her privacy. I don't think she would take it too kindly. Besides, I don't know, I think she would be disappointed if I did...” He retorted, not quite believing his own ears.

Silence met his answer.

As silence perdured, he looked at his phone to check the connection and said, “Mel?”

“Yeah, I'm still here. Jul, why do you care if she is disappointed?" she asked in a serious tone.

“I honestly don't know.“ was his slow and simple reply. He repeated the words, clearly shocked by his own admission.

“Well, maybe this woman, whoever she is, will be the one to finally tame you. You sound positively whipped already and I have to say, I'm enjoying this! “ Her clear voice said with undisguised glee.

“Bitch!” he grunted.

“Jerk!” She countered with a smile.

“Well, thanks for calling, I have to go...” his voice, trailed off.

“Jul?" she questioned.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Keep me posted. Try to be kind...” She advised with a smile in her tone.

“I will. We'll talk soon. Bye Mel.” He quickly ended the call, shaking his head and grinning.

Julian went back into the room, and once he confirmed the sleeping beauty was still out for the count, he descended to his kitchen and decided to cook. Cooking always relaxed him. It was a side of him not many people got to see, even his girlfriend only had the benefit of a few meals cooked by him over the span of their on and off relationship.

He really didn't want to think about her right now, but only about the woman upstairs, and he hoped she'd be hungry upon waking up. The thought of her getting out of bed, prompted him to walk to the main door as he realized he never took her luggage out of the car; and he figured she'd want to dress when she woke up.

Lifting a soft leather bag, he examined it and again noticed the business class priority tag, the airline, but also noticed a tag with a single word, a name ‘McGregor’ and a phone number with a 415 area code, no address, nor email. He knew this was San Francisco and wondered if this was where she lived, already thinking about the logistics of their relationship.

He caught himself shaking his head. Relationship? You have a girlfriend, remember?

Clearly, Frances was already in the past as far as he was concerned. She never managed to stir him the way the stranger had in such a short period of time.

But what of the “McGregor” name? Clearly, that's Irish, and she's not. What if she has a husband? Well, why wasn't he at the airport?

So many questions and he was not any closer to answers. He took her two bags upstairs, left them close to the bed and before leaving the room, couldn't resist the impulse to come close to her and caress her hair. He remembered smelling jasmine and pepper? And again, he felt something stir inside him.

He gave her a last look before heading out.

“I need a drink, preferably a strong one.“ was his thought as he exited the room.

With the ipod on he started to cook, and was grateful for the distraction of his hands and mind. After and hour and with a meal almost ready he felt the restlessness come back with force, but refused to succumb going upstairs to wake her up and demand answers.

Instead, he left the house and descended to his pool. He disrobed, got a pair of Speedos on, and started to swim like the devil was chasing after him.