Date: Fri, 25 May 2018 00:35:40 +0000 From: Willow Lemon Subject: Coven, ch. 6 Hey all! New character this chapter, so I'll post a pic of them on my Instagram: @willowlemon. Also, Kemper goes to a business meeting, so I'm going to post a pic of his suit as well. If you like what you see on Instagram, leave me a comment! Enjoy! CHAPTER SIX The next two days of Veronica and Justin's visit went by rather fast. They mostly hung out at the house and relaxed by the swimming pool and on the beach. They went shopping, saw a few more places of interest, and enjoyed Angela's cooking. Justin and Kemper had slept together every night, but had changed nothing of their daytime relationship. Neither of them spoke of it, Justin just came to his room every night and one time when Veronica took a nap during the day they took advantage of the deserted seaside. There was nothing emotional about it. It was sheer desire that took over them until they had their fill. But it was empty, so the lust always returned to drive them into each other's arms again. It had been awhile for him, so he took what he could get from Justin knowing his attitude was the same. He was familiar and trustworthy in the fact that he could count on him never wanting more. Kemper knew not to let himself feel for him because, as he had said, Justin is not to be trusted with his heart and he had to remind himself of that often. Every time Justin smiled at him across the table, every time he reached over and held him in the night, and occasionally when he kissed that one spot on Kemper's neck that made his lower back tickle. So, it seemed like a blink of an eye when they were at the airport, waiting for the plane to leave. "I don't want to leave. I've had such a wonderful time, and so did Todd when he was here." Veronica embraced her friend and kissed him on the cheek as a tear slipped down her face. "Please come and visit me soon. I hate to be away from you. Thank you again for inviting us." "Please, don't be so formal with these thanks and invitations. I hope you know you're welcome any time. But I am grateful for you coming. I love it when you come to see me. When I get back from London, we'll see about a visit." Kemper looked at his friend with much love, brushing the tear from Veronica's cheek. Justin stepped forward and gave him a hug. He held him a little longer than usual. "I had an amazing time. Cat Island has got to be one of the most beautiful places on Earth. It must be why you belong here. You deserve all the happiness in the world." Kemper thought he heard a quiver in his voice, but put it off to his imagination. He walked them to the gate and they all said goodbye one last time. Kemper suffered in seeing them disappear. And as he watched Veronica go, he felt a tug at his heart. He had the urge to call after her and beg her to stay and to never leave. But Kemper knew that was asinine, he would see her again soon. * * * Liz came over later that night unexpectedly. "Hey, what are you doing here? This is an unexpected surprise; come in." Liz had come to the side door in the kitchen so the two of them sat down at the kitchen table after Kemper had poured them two tall glasses of lemony sweet iced tea. "To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" he asked Liz again after he had taken a sip of tea. "Well, you're probably going to think I'm crazy, but I wanted to bring you something for your upcoming trip." From her shorts pocket Liz pulled a coin-sized aqua cloth bundle tied securely with a piece of red yarn and placed it on the table between them. "What's this?" Kemper picked up the small bundle squeezing it, testing it's springy and soft consistency. Only a foot away from his nose and he could already smell the strong spicy, earthy scents omitting from the sachet. "I made you a mojo." Before Kemper had a chance to ask what a mojo was, Liz continued. "I know you travel all the time, but for some reason I have the feeling that this trip is going to be special for you. Don't ask me why, call it intuition. Anyway, having this close by will just help you see a little more clearly, attract the spirits of love, luck, and fortune your way. If this is too crazy for you, you don't have to take it." "No, it doesn't sound crazy at all. Believe me, I've recently had my share of following my intuition." He rolled the mojo between his fingers still examining it. "And ironically enough, I have the same exact feeling about this visit to England, so I will take all the help I can get. Thank you, Liz." "No problem, I'm glad to do it. Well, I better getting going. I just wanted to drop this off before I leave tonight." "Leave, where are you going?" "I'm heading to Nassau with Daniel for a couple of days. I wasn't sure if I'd be back before you left." "Daniel, huh? Is that the hunk we saw you dancing with at the club the other night?" Kemper gave her a sly, knowing wink. "He is hunky, isn't he?" Liz released a contented sigh. "He's a tourist and I don't know how long it will last, but I'm determined to have as much fun as I can while it does." * * * Kemper departed for England three days later. The flight had been fine, but time- consuming. He thankfully didn't remember much of it. He had taken some motion sickness tablets that had knocked him out most of the journey. Chuck told him he was lucky and would take some on the way home. According to him, the in-flight movie had been so dreadful, that sleeping to London would be the way to travel. "Or what we should really do is buy a company jet, that's the way to fly. You would have a bed to sleep in and I wouldn't be subjected to Jennifer Lopez's one hundredth unsuccessful attempt at acting," he tried to coax him as he did every trip. Kemper and Chuck had meet at the airport in New York, where the home office was and had flown together. They settled into their accommodations at the Waldorf in Central London, and then had a brief meeting going over details of their presentation. The first conference with Harvey Nichols department store head executives was extremely significant. So, he wanted to appear in his finest, wearing a navy check double breasted Hugo Boss suit, white and blue vertical striped dress shirt, charcoal polka dot tie, and a white pocket square with a thick blue edging. Chuck gave him props when he had opened his room door, and Kemper gave them back for his sharp tailored Brooks Brothers. When they arrived at Harvey Nichols, they were escorted into the conference room where the chief executives were already waiting. There were three men and two women present and Kemper's eyes fell directly onto the most attractive man he had ever hoped to see in his life. He was so startled by this man's immanent presence that he had to clutch Chuck's arm for a moment to keep from staggering. The staggeringly handsome gentleman stood when they entered, revealing his elevated height. Kemper took in his broad, fit body as casually as he could. His face was a complementary combination of strong angles and soft curves. He had lengthy chestnut brown hair, a trim beard, an olive complexion, and piercing indigo eyes that appeared to gaze right through anything he looked at, or at least that's how Kemper felt when his eyes momentarily stopped on him. For an instant Kemper thought he looked familiar to him, like he had seen him before on TV or in a picture somewhere, but he couldn't be sure. Then the feeling was gone before he had time to linger on it. Upon seeing such a gorgeous man, he compulsively glanced down at his outfit to make sure it was okay and touched his hair to see if it was in place, without even thinking about what he was doing. He caught Kemper doing this and crimson came to his cheeks. "Keep it together," he told himself. "It's just a man, don't blow this meeting." He and Chuck took their seats and were introduced to everyone. He scarcely paid attention to anyone, just making sure he got *his* name. "And this is Carlo Sabatelli," someone finally said his name. "Carlo, Carlo," he kept saying his name over and over in his head as if he needed help remembering something that he could never forget. But once the introductions were over, it brought him back to reality and he needed to get business into his head, instead of a sexy man's name. He stood, spreading out his binder on the table, and though all eyes were on him waiting for him to begin, he sensed only his sapphire gaze boring into him. Kemper took a deep breath, bringing into focus the other eyes on him. "I would like to begin by saying thank you for this opportunity to come here and address you regarding this business prospect that I hope we can take together. Aroma Essentials is important to me because of what it does for our customers. We sell true aromatherapy products with all natural and pure ingredients that stimulate the mind and senses to help with everyday activities and alleviate a myriad of problems. "Here is a register of the diverse variety of products we carry." Chuck passed out folders to everyone. "We manufacture lotion, perfume, lip balm, foaming bath oil, massage oil, hair oil, bath crystals, bath tea packs, body scrubs, body packs, facial masks and moisturizers, linen spray, shampoo, shower gel, and bar soap. The categories these products come in are mediation, stress relief, energy, sound sleep, yoga, PMS relief, mood lifting, headache relief, cold relief, and dream stimulation. "As you can see, with a vast array of products, it requires more than a shelf at the local discount super store, and they also deserve more because of the superiority. More people every day are willing to pay for quality and pure ingredients. And they work, and work well. That is why our consumers keep coming back. Repeat sales are in an incredibly high margin, and four out of five patrons say they would recommend it to a friend or family member. "Three months ago, we expanded our advertising to Europe for the Aroma Essentials website. Our foreign sales have been through the roof." He began walking around the conference table at a leisurely pace as he was speaking and couldn't help but pause in his presentation a moment when he felt his knees quiver as he walked by Carlo. "We intend on continuing our extensive advertising campaign in Europe and more so for when we go retail in France and Italy. Our aspiration is to add Great Britain to that list. Aroma Essentials could of course go to smaller boutiques and department stores to make that occur, but superiority deserves excellence, that is why we wish to do business with Harvey Nichols. "Aroma Essentials is in the industry of servicing people with alternative, all-natural means. It is enormously fulfilling to help people with such an outstanding product and I hope you can join us in that reward. Now, I'll let Chuck get down to the numbers." Kemper sat down and endeavored to act as though he was paying attention to what Chuck was saying, but all that echoed through his mind was, "Carlo, Carlo." He observed this god of a man out of the corner of his eye; his movements, his expressions. He held himself well, but he appeared almost strained to keep his countenance about him. Kemper couldn't identify the strain, though. Perhaps it was his imagination. The non-descript tension he was sensing suddenly leapt from his mind as he realized that Carlo was looking at him. He held a long gaze in his direction. He gave the impression of studying Kemper, then his attention returned to Chuck. Kemper's heart skipped a beat, but it began beating so rapidly that his heart made up for the lost pulse. When Chuck was finished and they had answered the few questions they had, a man-he wasn't sure who since he didn't pay attention to the introductions-stood and said that if they could give them a moment, he was sure they would have a decision for them today. Chuck and Kemper went out of the conference room, to a waiting room with large plush chairs and lots of mahogany. "So, how do you think it went?" he asked Chuck the moment the door shut behind them. "I think it went well. You did an excellent job, man! And the fact they want us to wait for the answer, I think is good news. Generally they don't like to give you bad news to your face." "I agree. Hopefully we won't have to wait too long. Waiting is fricking murder! Do you want some water?" He began filling a tumbler from the glass beverage dispenser in the lobby. Before Chuck had time to respond, Carlo Sabatelli strode out of the meeting room causing him to slosh liquid over the rim of the glass, unprepared to see him again so quickly and unexpectedly. If his heart didn't abandon its swift staccato soon, he was beginning to fear a heart attack. "Well, congratulations you two! I think that we can work with you on this deal." Carlo's British accent added an extra dash of charm to his handsome looks. Chuck turned and embraced Kemper in a big hug. "Well that is outstanding news!" Chuck was grinning madly. "Yes, yes it is," Kemper agreed, overcoming the urge to pump his fist. This account had been tremendously important. "They are wanting to go over some details with the distribution, if you have the time." Carlo looked at Chuck. "Sure, yeah." Chuck went back into the conference room. Carlo faced Kemper. "Would you like to go for a drink to celebrate?" "Shouldn't we go back to the meeting with Chuck and the others?" his voice shook a little. Kemper was thrown off at being asked out. This guy kept catching him off guard and he was thankful that he wasn't pouring water this time or it would have been all over his Ferragamo oxfords. He thought he would be prepared for anything in London, but not this. The most instantaneous attraction of his whole twenty-four years was standing in front of him and asking him for a drink. This is not what he had expected at all. "They know that we won't be back." Carlo looked at him so intently that it brought him to a new level of self-conscious. "How do they know?" he felt like he whispered. "Because when they asked me what I thought about selling your products, I told them that they would be daft not to because of the company's proven sales rate. And secondly, that you were the most intriguing and attractive man that I had ever laid eyes on, and unless they had any objections, I was going to come out here and tell the two of you that we had a deal and take you for a drink." He blushed furiously for the second time that day and smiled out of embarrassment. "I take it they said that was okay?" "Yes, they agreed," his lips curving up at him. "Well, then I guess we should go." * * * They went to a pub that was quiet and dark. Booths lined the walls, their backing extending to the ceiling fully dividing one table from the next. The few tables and chairs scattered in the front of the bar had only a few patrons, most opting for the secluded cubicles. The bar was illuminated, and all other lighting was low and there were petite candles in glass globes resting on each table. It gave the tavern a warm and comfortable atmosphere. "I like this place because it's not like some taverns where you can't even hear yourself think. We can talk here." They were seated in a corner booth. "So, how do you like London? Is this your first time here?" Carlo asked him. "I've been to London around five times now and I love it here. I try to make it to the area at least once a year. The countryside around here is exquisite." "Where do you live, New York?" "The home office is in New York, Chuck lives there. I used to have an apartment there, but I don't really like the city full time too much. I prefer it some place warmer and near the water, so now I live in the Bahamas." The nerves at being around such a startlingly gorgeous man were fast fading away, and he was surprised at how soon his nerves were being replaced with a soothing ease. The ease was somehow familiar and likened to the solace that washed over him when he dove into the sea. "I know what you mean. I feel the same way sometimes and spent many a holiday out of the city and taking advantage of French or Greek beaches." "Well the Caribbean islands are a whole new experience. You should try one for your next holiday." He was looking at Kemper with a playful smile, like he had a funny secret, when the waitress came to the table and took their orders. Carlo ordered a scotch and Kemper asked for a glass of champagne since it was a celebration. "So do you mind if I ask you something that may sound a little personal?" Kemper inquired. "No, not at all. What is it?" "I was just curious, you look Italian and your name sounds Italian, so I was just wondering why you don't sound Italian?" he asked smiling at him flirtatiously, knowing it was an inane question, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him, so he hoped a smile and a tilt of his head might help the ridiculousness of it. Carlo laughed and Kemper drank it up like a dry sponge and was immediately thirsty for more. It reminded him of how he felt watching the sun dip down behind the ocean. "I didn't expect you to ask that. I was born in Venice, but my parents moved to Manchester when I was three. I can speak Italian, but the English accent stuck since I grew up here." "Why did they move?" he pushed him on, loving to listen to him speak and watching his perfect kissable lips in motion. The manner in which he spoke with his hands and how he pushed back a waved strand of hair from his face occasionally, was tremendously sensual. Kemper lit a cigarette and sat back listening and watching him. When they were in the meeting, he had not been able to freely gaze at him, so he now took advantage of being able to look him directly in the eye without being rude. Yet, even though he smiled speaking of his parents, under his confident demeanor lay a spirit of heaviness that Kemper couldn't characterize. The oppressing sensation that he was experiencing was confusing him though, because he didn't feel threatened with Carlo in any way. So, he didn't come to the conclusion that Carlo himself was shady. Perhaps his intuition was screwed up because of his attraction for him. From where Kemper was, he appeared anything but bad to him. They shared about some of their pasts, their present, and what they hoped would be their futures, briefly touching on an array of subjects, memories, and dreams, having quite a lot in common. But they didn't trip over each other; their conversation easily fell into an intimate, rhythmic pace. Before they knew it, they had been chatting for close to three hours. "How about we go get something to eat?" he asked Kemper when they realized what time it was. They took a taxi to Le Gavroche. Carlo must have been a regular, because they were seated at a table that seemed to be waiting for him. "Mr. Sabatelli, so good to see you, it's been a while." Carlo requested a bottle of wine expertly and he pursued the lavish menu. "What are you going to have? I can recommend something if you like." "I'm looking at the grilled scallops with clam minestrone. Do you recommend something else?" "No, that's an excellent selection. The scallops are one of my favorites." His eyes held his with a look a profound desire. Kemper rubbed his own chin as a reflex. "May I be so forward as to ask you for a kiss?" Again, catching him off guard. "Y-yes, you may," Kemper answered noticing how throaty his own voice sounded and surprised by Carlo's forwardness so soon, but he liked it too. It made him feel wanted, desired, and even respected because he had asked. Normally he didn't like when men asked to kiss him, he preferred them to just do it, but Carlo asking seemed right. Kemper could see he genuinely didn't want to be improper or make him uncomfortable. He expected him to lean across the table to kiss him, but he stood, seized his hand and pulled Kemper to his feet. Carlo positioned his hands on either side of his face very tenderly and kissed him unhurriedly and with more passion than he had ever experienced in a kiss. People in the restaurant were staring at them, but they were oblivious to them. His lips were yielding and his inquisitive tongue sent a heat down Kemper's throat to his heart, and before long, the blaze apprehended his belly and lower. Carlo released him after what felt like a lifetime and held his hand as he crumpled back down in his chair as smoothly as he could. Unsure of what to do or say next, he took out a cigarette and Carlo lit it for him before he had a chance to flick open his lighter. At that moment he saw his hand, and he was wearing a wedding ring. He had been gazing so fixedly on his face, he never noticed his hands. "Oh my God, you're married." His stomach twisted and for a moment he thought he might throw up. "I'm not married," Carlo denied quickly. "I've been divorced for seven months now. To be truthful with you, and I know this will sound horrible, but I haven't had the strength to take it off." He paused, biting his top lip, and for the first time had trouble meeting Kemper's gaze. "My ex-wife is a miserable person, but something keeps me attached." Kemper observed shame in his eyes. "But *you*, I haven't even looked at anyone in years the way I see you. I may sound like I'm mad, but I believe something extraordinary has brought us together." He had been ready to throw his drink in his face and storm out, but the expression on Carlo's face was so honest and sincere, that something inside of Kemper advised him he was telling the truth, and not to discount him yet. "Please don't go." Carlo reached his hand across the table towards him. Kemper looked into his eyes, those lucid true-blue pools, then held Carlo's hand. "I'm so sorry; I should have told you before." "It's okay. It's your business and it's personal at that. I understand." And he did understand. People undergo different situations in their lives and he was not about to judge him. Kemper trusted him, he believed him, and he didn't know why, but he knew he could rely on his instincts and always could. Carlo squeezed his hand then let go of it. He glanced at Kemper, then reached down and removed his gold band, putting it in his trouser pocket. Kemper smiled at him softy as he did. It was a simple action, but it was much more. The first course came, it looked and smelled superb. "We haven't yet reached in our tête- à-tête any sort of religious belief or if you believe in a higher power. So, I don't know how you will respond to what I'm going to ask. Have you had much experience or are you acquainted with anything regarding the occult?" Carlo questioned him. "Actually, I have." He was now very curious about what Carlo was going to say. "You have? That's very beneficial! So you know that there is good and bad magic, and it is in the heart of the person who practices?" "Yes," he volunteered, not revealing too much, because he wanted to hear what he was going to say. "Well, I hadn't had much familiarity with it, but I have always been the kind of person who is always open to new ideas and experiences. I knew my ex-wife was a witch when we were dating, but she was different then...or pretended to be. Monique, that's her name, was in a coven when we first got together. The coven was a remarkable place, it was almost like a church because of the number of members, and it's how I know the difference between good and evil magic. The coven taught that love, light, and purity was key in practicing. "Well, everything transpired so quickly between us that within three months of meeting, we were married. I was only twenty-two then. It didn't take long after we were married to discern a change. I don't want to bore you with details, but clearly the change was not for the better. I couldn't quite put my finger on what the alterations were, but there was something. Then Monique stopped going to the coven and when I asked her why, she said that she was no longer interested in that kind of magic and was moving on to bigger and better things and she no longer needed them. That puzzled me, but I considered it her business. "After some time, it was apparent what sort of magic she was involved with. Monique was becoming dark and looked as if to have something looming over her. If I griped about somebody at work, she would say, 'Don't worry, they'll get what they deserve.' And the next day, they would be dreadfully ill or throw their back out or something along those lines. I couldn't get myself to believe it; I told myself it was purely coincidence. Then there was this one occasion when I was up for a promotion at the store. I told her how much I wanted it and how it would really be beneficial to us. I feel so naïve looking back on it now. The other gentleman I was in the running with was in a terrible auto accident that night and couldn't come back to work for two months. I would've quit my job if I hadn't found out that I was to receive the promotion regardless of the accident, though my guilt has always remained. I confronted her about it after that and she just asked, 'You got what you wanted, didn't you?'" Kemper took a sip of ice water, listening intently. Carlo hesitated a moment, so he reached over and touched his hand encouraging him to go on with a nod. "I moved out of our flat after that. She wasn't the person I married and loved. I'm not going to get what I want at other people's detriment. At first, she haunted my dreams. Every night she was there, in images of us making love or before we were married when our bond gave the impression of being perfect. Then when I still wouldn't answer her phone calls, I began to be drawn to her all the time. It's as if all I can think of is her and being with her. I must've picked up the phone or gone to our flat a million times, but I always seem to remind myself of what she is before I dial the last number or knock on the door. "All I can guess is Monique must be using magic on me to try and bring me back. She still does. Every day it is a struggle. I maintain enough consciousness of it to stay away from her, but it keeps me in a depressed state. After work and warding off her spells all day, I go home and collapse into bed exhausted. It's been ten months. Today was actually my last day at work. I'm taking a two-month sabbatical. Maybe I'll try the islands like you suggested; hopefully it will be far enough." Kemper exhaled a deep breath feeling a heavy heart. Carlo had been through a tremendous amount of stress. It's arduous to withstand that nature of constant power. "I don't blame you for taking time off. I would need a rest too!" This clarified the mixed feelings he had been experiencing. The underlying strain he had picked up on hadn't been Carlo himself, but a curse surrounding him. "So you believe me?" Carlo asked almost not believing himself. He put his heart out on a line revealing this to Kemper, something that most people wouldn't accept as true. "Yes, of course I do. It's horrible Carlo! And this has been going on for seven months?" Kemper was exceedingly sympathetic. "Well, a little longer. The divorce didn't take long; I just let her have everything. I hoped that that would make her stop, it just made her more enraged." "I understand about the ring. You have withstood so much; the ring seems to be the least of it. You have to do something; you can't just go on like this forever. Have you tried?" "I don't know what to do. I thought about going to her old coven for help, but I just couldn't." He sounded disappointed in himself. "Don't get me wrong, just the fact that you withstood this for so prolonged a time is saying much about who you are and your strengths. Let me try something. Hang on." Kemper closed his eyes and did a protection chant in his head. He pictured both of them in a white light that surrounded them, enclosing them in a guarded sphere. He opened his eyes and Carlo was looking at him, then around him. "What did you do? It feels like a weight has been lifted off me. Like I'm free! What did you do?" Carlo was ecstatic. "It's only a temporary solution. We'll work on doing something more permanent. But at least we'll be able to enjoy our meal together, *alone*," Kemper smiled at him. "You mean...? Are you...?" "A witch? Yes, but a good one." Kemper had never told that to anyone, it had been easier than he thought. Carlo was speechless initially, looking at him with big eyes. Then regaining use of his brain, he said, "I knew something brought you to me. I knew it the moment I saw you." "Me too." Kemper grasped his hand. The waitress walked up with their second course. The small red-haired girl appeared tired from standing on her feet all night, waiting on table after table. When she got to them, a smile started to curve on her lips. She put their dishes down and made sure they were doing alright and strolled away with a huge grin and a spring in her step. "Did you see that? That girl was so worn-out she could barely keep her head up and when she came over here, she changed. You did that." Carlo was gazing at him with admiration. "No, it's just the spell surrounding us." Carlo's cell phone rang. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was on. I'll just be a moment." "What the hell did you do?! Where the fuck are you?!" It was Monique. She was hysterical. Carlo hung up the phone without saying a word. "Who was it?" Kemper was wondering why he hung up so abruptly. "It was Monique. She wanted to know what I did and where I was. She must know something is going on." "I'm sure she does. She's evidently very powerful." He patted his mouth with his napkin. He could see a frown develop on Carlo's features. "Don't worry. I'll help you figure out what to do. Let me think about it." Kemper wanted to help him as much as possible. They may have just met, but he knew that he didn't want to let Carlo go. Besides, how could he ignore a person in need? And Carlo had a deep need.