BATTLE OF DESIRE

It's a cold Saturday morning – well, cold for Miami – and Marcia is at a business breakfast meeting with new clients. Sipping her coffee, Marcia muses It's been a while...

It has been a long while since she has been in town and she especially loves this area, with the cars going by and people walking on the sidewalk.

As she sips her coffee and listens to her clients chat, a message pops up on her phone.

It's from the office – the package has been delivered and is waiting for her inspection.

She puts down her coffee cup and excuses herself from her clients.

“Well, gentlemen, thank you very much for your time. As agreed, all the documents will be sent to you before the end of the week.”

Everyone smiles and shakes hands, and Marcia quickly heads to her office.

==========

“There! Follow her. Don't get too close,” the man with sandy brown hair and light blue eyes, seated in the back of a black Lexus, said.

His eyes intently focus on Marcia as she crosses the street, heads to the parking lot, and gets into her red Mercedes.

Fifteen minutes later, Marcia parks her car and walks into her office, a two-story building with a full glass front on the ground floor, topped by a stylish wood exterior on the upper floor.

Written on the entrance is the name of the company: Oltre Bacchus, a mix of Italian and French. It is one of the newest wine stores to hit the Miami Strip.

As Marcia walks in, the black Lexus parks opposite the building. The man in the passenger seat reaches over placing a hand on the driver and saying in a deep voice, “Wait here, I'll be right back.”

He steps out of the car, checking for oncoming vehicles, and crosses the road swiftly to the door. He stands outside for a moment, hand poised over the door handle, before taking a deep breath and walking in.

==========

Marcia is opening a recently delivered crate of wine from Europe, her back to the door, shoulders hunched over, head down. She turns around and looks up when she hears someone enter. “Oh, I'm so sorry, we're not open yet. If you could come back –”

She stops mid-sentence, mouth still open, as if all the air had left her lungs, because of the man – no, the ghost – that she sees in front of her.

Marcia stares at this visitor, her eyes widening, and she drops the lid of the crate that she has just opened.

Crash!

The secretary lets out a yell, “Ma’am, are you okay?! Is everything all right?” He exclaims as he hurries toward Marcia.

Seeing the gentleman at the door, he turns to him, “Oh, I'm sorry, we're not open yet. Perhaps you could come back in an hour, maybe two?”

He asks nervously, gesturing with an outstretched hand for the visitor to leave, while still moving towards his boss; concern on his face for the sudden noise but wearing a professional smile for the potential customer.

The man doesn't look at him, not even for a moment, his mind occupied with the image he had seen as he walked through the doors; Marcia's slender back and shoulders moving gracefully as she worked the crate lid free, head down, with concentration etched on the profile of her face that could be seen from that angle. Her slim nose, full lips, and slender chin.

He glances back at Marcia and sees that the two are staring at each other without speaking.

Finally, Marcia breathes in, stuttering “You...Jullian...How...? Why...?”

Jullian steps forward, approaching Marcia. She takes a step back raising her hand, “Stop!” she cries, and Jullian stops instantly as if hit by an invisible wall.

The air is thick with tension as the secretary looks from one to the other, confused and unsure whether to say something or retreat to the storeroom he had just come out from.

Luckily, Marcia saves him “Kyle, please leave us. It’s okay; I dropped the lid by mistake.”

Kyle nods and murmurs his agreement to Marcia’s request, leaving the room.

Jullian, the man who entered the store, is gazing intently at Marcia. He starts to speak “Marcia..., I...”

“Stop”, Marcia says again, cutting him off, her usually soft voice trembling and barely above a whisper.

“I don’t..., you shouldn't..., why...? Leave, Jullian!” She stammers, her voice rising at the last two words.

“If you just give me...” he started up again.

“I said leave!” Marcia demands, not letting him speak; this time voicing her thoughts without whispers or hesitation.

Jullian’s shoulders slump slightly, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time since he entered the room, his eyes move away from Marcia for a brief second before returning to her increasingly reddening face.

“Marcia, we need to talk,” he urges her, speaking carefully.

That voice, that same deep, sonorous, authoritative voice…, Marcia muses as she subconsciously looks away, dipping her head to the side, towards her right shoulder, which moves upward in a half-shrug.

She stops mid-motion turning back to Jullian, her brown eyes blazing.

Marcia purses her lips together and stares defiantly at Jullian.

“I know the way we left things is wrong and hurtful, but if you give me –”

“I said leave!” Marcia yells, clenching her fists at her side.

“If you'd give me one minute, I can explain.” Jullian continues, his voice steady, his beautiful light blue eyes locked with Marcia’s deep brown ones.

“One minute to explain what you did five years ago?” Marcia responds incredulously. She spins away from Jullian, facing the wall, and takes a few deep breaths.

Turning her face to the side, her back still toward him, hands on her slim waist, she continues, “I don't want to hear anything from you. You can leave, and you can leave right now”.

Jullian sighs, showing exasperation for the first time, well, Jullian’s version of exasperation. He closes his eyes for three seconds and takes a step forward. “I know you don't want to hear what I have to say, but you have to hear it. I have to tell you what happened back then. I need to explain it.”

“I don't need your explanation!” Marcia retorts, still with her back to him, only the side of her slender face visible. “This is my space, and I want you out. You are not invited, and you are not welcome.”

Jullian gives an aspirated sigh “Okay, fine, I'll leave, but I'll be back later.”

Marcia spins around at this and points aggressively at Jullian “Don't you dare come back here! You have no business with me, and I have none with you!”

Jullian steps forward, right up to Marcia’s face, and grabs her arm. “You have everything to do with me, and I have everything to do with you. I will leave now, as you requested, but I will be back. I will see you again.” He strongly emphasizes the last two ‘will’s.

They stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in the moment, closer in their anger than they are with their faces almost touching, their breaths intermingling.

Marcia sharply holds her breath and deliberately leans back, away from Jullian's intense demeanor, saying nothing, her brown eyes dark with anger.

Jullian releases Marcia's arm, steps back, and clears his throat. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry for doing that. I'll see you again.”

With that, Jullian gazes intensely at Marcia one last time, turns around, and walks out.

Marcia stands with her head spinning, her heart racing, and sweat forming on her forehead – even in the coolness of the office.

Her eyes dart about in front of the open crate. Her hands are shaking...shaking with anger? With rage? With embarrassment? She cannot determine which.

She starts to pace and then suddenly rushes out of the office after Jullian.

As Marcia reaches the parking lot, Jullian crosses the street and enters his car. She watches as the car drives off.

Her fingers clench at her side as she stares after the disappearing vehicle, muttering to herself, “Five years...just like that...five years. How? Why am I reacting like this?” She closes her eyes as the car disappears from view.

==========

“Well, how was it? You left pretty early this morning and you’re just getting back now?” A dark-haired man comments as Jullian walks into the brightly lit game room of his family’s opulent mansion.

“Good evening, Father,” Jullian responds, w