Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
By Ann Cory
Resplendence Publishing, LLC
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com
Resplendence Publishing, LLC
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Copyright © 2009, Ann Cory
Edited by Tiffany Mason
Cover art by Rika Singh
Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-049-1
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Electronic release: July, 2009
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
For my Resplendence editor, Tiffany, for making edits such a smooth experience
Table of Contents
Her hand wrapped around its full, firm base. The silky smooth texture warm against her palm. With careful strokes, her fingers glided along its long, thick length. Her mouth watered. Lips tingled. Nothing else compared to its taste. Pure decadence. She rested the tip against her tongue and noted the sweetness. Her belly rumbled its desire. She slid her lips midway, hardly able to control herself. Teeth light against the exterior, she took a bite. The sugary banana flavor hit her taste buds with an all-out zing. What would accompany the exquisite fruit? Cinnamon. Coconut milk. Pineapple sorbet. Honey. A pinch of nutmeg.
Perfection.
Tiffany Woods bolted upright and grabbed a pen and notepad from her bedside table. In her own version of shorthand, she jotted down her newest idea for a smoothie recipe. Her dreams of late had strayed from erotic fantasies to creative fruit-based concoctions. Though the phallic shape of the banana had been somewhat arousing. Still, smoothies were her focus, and with good reason. Her future depended on them. As a result, she learned to keep paper nearby so her ideas wouldn’t be forgotten once her feet touched the sandstone-colored carpet.
She yawned away the last remnants of sleep and stretched her arms above her head. Silvery rays of dawn washed over her skin from the large bay windows. After tomorrow, she hoped her mind would cut her some slack and allow her a good night’s rest.
One more lingering moment in the confines of her cozy sleigh bed, and then she knew it was time to get moving. The soft down of the comforter beckoned her to stay, but the day called to her. With a sigh, Tiffany slid out of bed and shuffled into the shower. Warm mist coated her skin. She tilted her head back and let the water drench her hair. Deep breath in, she mentally prepared herself. The day would be busy, but fun, too. With Marcus and Shane set to come over, fun was guaranteed.
Towel-dried and somewhat awake, she chose a simple outfit from the closet. A creamy tank top with a touch of lace at the chest, a cotton green shirt left unbuttoned, and a dark denim skirt that hung an inch above her knees. From the dresser she pulled out a cringe-worthy pair of turquoise and gray striped panties, part of a set she received as a gag gift when she’d graduated from University. Not only unsightly, but each one had an attitude-laced saying stitched on them. To her horror, they were all she had to choose from. That would teach her to put off laundry for weeks.
With a groan she slipped them on and didn’t even bother to look at what the waistband said. It was humiliating enough to know that she didn’t own a single pair of pretty panties. Or a sexy bra for that matter. Since the tank top and shirt concealed enough, she decided against wearing a bra altogether. Some day she’d splurge on herself with lacy lingerie from
She finished getting dressed and rolled the shirtsleeves to her elbows. Now to tackle the tangled mess that was her long dark brown hair. After trying it up and in different styles, she put it in a ponytail with a few soft tendrils to frame her face. She kept her makeup soft and light. With the state of her nerves she’d probably sweat the stuff off anyways.
Tiffany did a final circle in front of the mirror and headed down the hallway to the kitchen. She had an hour before her favorite guys would arrive. As supporters of her dream to start up a smoothie bar, she thought it fitting they pick her five best recipes. Their opinions had always mattered to her. They’d seen her at her worst and witnessed the changes she’d made over time, mainly physical ones. Growing up, she’d been ridiculed about her weight. While proud of how she looked now, past insecurities still plagued her. Even her parents had given her a hard time and treated her like an outcast.
Now, a decade later, the relationship with her parents was still strained. They’d been considerate enough to send her a card when she graduated, but didn’t bother to show up in person. Funny considering they lived the next state over. However hurtful, Tiffany came to realize she didn’t require their approval. She had Marcus and Shane.
They were good for her confidence and often talked her up on low days. She confided in them about her dreams of the future and often sought their advice. Plus they were devastatingly handsome and possessed intelligence and sharp wit. The total package. If only she could find the courage to convey that she envisioned her future to include them, as more than friends.
* * * *
Shane Anderson pumped his arms to keep pace with his friend’s swift stride. The cool morning breeze licked at his face. Since January, they made it a point to get up and jog to stay in shape. Even on the weekends. At first he hated it, much preferring to sleep in, but after a couple months it turned into a habit. Now he used the time to reflect on his week, and try to make sense out of all the weird stuff that filtered into his head. Which nine times out of ten the weird stuff had to do with his quest to understand the female mind.
“Remember when Billy Crystal said something like men and women can’t be friends?” he blurted out. “I think it was in that movie
When Harry Met Sally?
”
His best mate Marcus Zimmerman nodded beside him. “Sounds familiar. What about it?”
“I thought the guy was nuts at the time.” He dabbed at his forehead with his sweatshirt sleeve. “I can’t even count how many girls as friends I had back in high school.”
“I take it you have a different view now?”
Shane rolled his shoulders. “Sort of. I mean, depending on the situation it can be possible, but as an adult I find it doesn’t work the same way. Especially in an office situation.”
His friend frowned. “It’s a bad idea to see someone from work.”
“I know.” Bad ideas didn’t necessarily dissuade him. “Lately, when I start out friends with a woman, it moves right into more, and then turns into a big complicated mess. The only female friends I’ve managed to keep are either engaged or married. Not a single one in the mix. Aside from Tiffany, of course.”
“Dude, I’m the same way.”
“Remember that new administrative assistant I told you about the other week?”
His friend cocked a brow and then grinned. “Ah yes, Monica.”
Shane winced at the mention of her name. He worried the sky would open up and send down lightning bolts at him. “Yea, Monica, the she-devil in fishnet stockings. Well I made small talk with her a couple times, just to be friendly and make her feel more comfortable.”
“I can see where this is going.”
“You’d think, right? I didn’t want to tell you, but it’s killing me not to. About five nights ago she showed up at the door wearing nothing but fishnet stockings and a man’s dinner jacket.”
Marcus groaned. “Whoa. Where was I?”
“At a staff meeting.”
“Damn. Talk about timing.”
His lips twisted. “Believe me, I considered sending you a text.”
“Why, to share?”
“Why do you think?” His words were more of a statement than a question. “So nothing would happen.”
“Did you at least
try
to keep things platonic?”
Shane shot him a look. “Fuck no. Did you hear what I said? She had nothing on but the stockings and a jacket. The raging hard on I got took my brain hostage and turned it into paste. I was helpless.”
He ignored his friend’s chuckle.
“You’d have done the same thing in my shoes.”
Marcus flashed him a wide grin. “Damn straight. But you didn’t stand a chance. She came over with an agenda.”
“Exactly,” he agreed. “And for three days she followed me around everywhere, and even flirted with me in front of the boss. Finally I took her aside and told her I didn’t want a relationship, and she put some sort of curse on me.”
“A curse?”
“She carved the word “dick” on my desk and told people she made a voodoo doll of me.”
His friend whistled. “That’s fucked up.”
“No kidding.” He didn’t even want to mention the freaky nightmares he’d been having. “I keep thinking that at any moment my leg is going to bend in some odd shape. Or I’m going to feel a sharp stabbing pain in my lower region.”
“Whatever happens, I hope I’m around to see it.”
He patted his friend’s shoulder. “You’re such a pal. Seriously though, I’m about ready to take myself out of the dating pool altogether.”
“Might be safer,” Marcus pointed out.
“Unless, of course, a certain longtime infatuation picked up on the signals being sent her way.” Even the thought of Tiffany made his pulse double. “For her I’d made an exception.”
“Yes, our gal has been a tough cookie to make crumble at our feet. Little miss content in her world of fruit and blenders. Too busy to notice how we worship her.”
While they waited at a crosswalk for the signal to change, Shane did some quick calf stretches. “Do you recall the last time she went on a date?”
Marcus shrugged. “I wanna say two years. Nah, wait, can that be right? Damn.”
“I bet she hasn’t been laid for about that long either,” he concluded.
“Which doesn’t make sense. She’s a sweetheart and a total babe. Course, she has had a lot on her plate the past couple of years.”