Image for the poem When Love Calls (Tester Chapter)

When Love Calls (Tester Chapter)

Manhattan, New York

“I think it’s going to be a slow night.”

Marcus fisted his hand and blew into it. The bite of an early autumn abided.

“Man, there’s my candy girl.”

Marcus and his co-worker, Darion looked at the procession of vehicles waiting to be parked.

“You could have that snobbish bitch.”

“No the next vehicle is yours, which is hers.”

“What a lucky mothefucka I am.”

“Be nice, you know who her old man is.”

“Fuck him and her, I take care of mine.”

Marcus walked to the curve. He cranked his neck and scanned for the next approaching vehicle. The headlights of the BMW obscured him from seeing who steered the vehicle to a stop.

Hopefully it was the wrong vehicle he thought.

Zaniyah unplugged her key from out the ignition, unstrapped her seatbelt, and grabbed her Gucci purse from off the passenger seat. She opened the door and stepped out her vehicle. She looked at the entrance to the ristorante. She then looked down at her Cartier watch. Her friends were due to meet her for their Friday night girl’s night out.

Marcus walked over to where Zaniyah stood.

“I would take those pretty lady.”

“Excuse me.”

“I will need your keys to park your vehicle.”

“And you are?”

“The valet.”

Zaniyah’s seductive dark-charcoal colored eyes roamed over Marcus’ uniform attire.

“Where is Bobby? He usually parks my car.”

“Unfortunately, he is off today.”

“It figures.” Zaniyah turned her eyes back to Marcus. “I do not just hand my keys over to strangers.”

“I think the uniform speaks for itself.”

“You sure are arrogant for a person doing a job that takes little skills and not enough brain power.”

It pays the bills Marcus wanted to say.

“Ma’am would you like me to park your car, or better yet, you can park it.”

“How dare you speak to me like that? Have you any idea who I am?”

“Yes, a spoiled bitc. At the moment, I do not care.”

“Who is your super...”

“Hi Marcus.”

Marcus turned from Zaniyah.

“Good evening ladies.” Marcus tipped his hat.

Zaniyah saw where Marcus’ eyes darted too, as the two women walked into the ristorante.

“I asked you a question.”

Marcus turned back to look at Zaniyah.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“What is your name?”


“Well Marcus, your supervisor will hear about this less than perfect moment from me.”

Marcus smiled at Zaniyah.

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

“To be unemployed, I would.”

“Listen lady.”

Zaniyah gasped at the formality.

“I really do not have time to exchange pleasantries, if you want your vehicle parked, do it yourself, and I would get out the middle of the street. I wouldn’t want you to get hit in those expensive shoes you’re wearing.”

Marcus left Zaniyah huffing in the middle of the street. She returned to her vehicle, got inside, and pulled the door close. She looked through her windshield at Marcus.

“Arrogant ass.”

She opened her purse and took at her Blackberry. She slid it open, and then pressed in several numbers to the ristorante.

“This is Carbon’s Italian Ristorante the best Italian ristorante that serves all your dining needs; how could I be of service?”

“Yes, this is Zaniyah Delaro.”

“Miss. Delaro, how good of you to call. I see you have reservations for this evening.”

“Yes, in regards to my reservations. I’m thinking about taking my business elsewhere.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes, the valet was extremely rude to me; he even suggested I park my own vehicle.”

“Did you get this induvial’s name?”

“I do believe he stated his name was, Marcus.”

“Not to worry Miss. Delaro, as of today, he will not be a problem.”


She heard silence in her ear.

“Darn it.” She slid her blackberry close, dropped it back inside her purse, and then snapped her purse close.

Zaniyah waited in her car until her friends appeared at the entrance.

The owner of the ristorante walked to the door, opened it, and walked out the door.


Marcus turned around.

“Yeah Mr. Ramo. I just had a disturbing call from one of our frequent patrons.”

Marcus looked in the direction where Zaniyah waited in her vehicle.

“Come again.”

“It appears this frequent patron stated, you were very insensitive to her needs.”

 “I do my job efficiently, with respect to everyone.”

“Just watch yourself; her father pays the bills.”

“You got it Mr. Ramo.”

Mr. Ramo opened the door and walked back into the ristorante.

Zaniyah breathed a sigh of relief after she watched the valet, remained rooted where he stood.

Someone knocked on her window.

Zaniyah looked up. She pressed the button. The window dropped halfway.

“It’s about time you guys got here. I was about to leave the scene.”

“Come on girl, I’m hungry, and then to the night club we go.”

“I’ll meet everyone inside.”

“Okay,” two voices agreed.

Zaniyah pressed the button. Her window automatically rolled up.

Her two friends walked to the entrance of the ristorante.

“Good evening, ladies.”

Marcus tipped his hat. He rushed forward and grabbed the door handle. He pulled the door open.

“Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” the other two women stated.

“My pleasure ladies.”

Marcus saw Zaniyah walking to the entrance of the ristorante out the corner of his eye.

He let the door go.

“Good evening,” Darion stated.

Marcus opened the door for Zaniyah. She hesitated with entering.

“I could have opened the door myself.”

Marcus allowed the door to close.

“How rude.”

“You can’t have me both ways beautiful.”

Zaniyah smiled: she then cleared her throat.

“You will always be beneath me.”

“I’m down with that way also.”

Marcus winked at Zaniyah. He walked away. He looked back after he heard the door opening.

“Man that is one fine Italian cunt. Did you see her lips?”

“Yeah, make for wrapping around my di.”

A patron walked out the ristorante, suspending Marcus’ sentence.

“The Bentley, please.”

“Yes sir.”

Darion walked to the side of the ristorante, pulled open the door to a key lock box. He looked at the number mounted keys, and then lifted a key from off the key rack. He walked in the direction of the valet parking-lot.

Marcus looked down at his watch. It was time for his lunch hour. He looked at the back of the gentleman’s head waiting for his vehicle.

Rich folks; snobbish, and haven’t got a clue as to how the real world works.

Darion returned from getting the patron’s vehicle. He took his place behind his black podium.

“Did I miss anything?”

“Nothing stirring. And on that note, I’m out for lunch; I’m pissed I even decided to come in on my scheduled vacation as a favor to someone.”

“Yes, had Bobby showed his ass up, you will be…”

“Between my date’s thighs. I’m out.”

Marcus turned around, walked to the door, and opened it. He entered the ristorante and removed his uniform jacket; he hung it on the silver mounted hook. He removed his hat and hug it over his jacket.

Marcus scanned the intimate setting ristorante. He smiled after seeing Zaniyah and her friends waiting in line to be seated. He palmed his goatee down. His dark-brown eyes twinkled with mischief.

Marcus walked over to where the line was formed. He glanced down at the back of Zaniyah’s pastel-olive skin tone complexion. Her curvilinear petite hips filled her short black mini-dress in exquisite taste to his eyes. A curtain of jet-black curly hair dangled down her back, and her eyes, hypnotic, little did she know they were like a magnet to a man’s soul.

If you preferred her snobbish type he thought.

Marcus palmed the bend in Zaniyah’s lower back.

“Excuse me ladies.”

Zaniyah pivoted to the minty husky voice fanning the back of her ear. Her eyes found Marcus’ eyes.

“I need to get pass.”

Zaniyah scooted forward.

Marcus slowly slid his palm over Zaniyah’s derrière before resting it at his side.

“Excuse me, but could you take a picture of me and my friends.”

Marcus retained Zaniyah’s eyes.


His eyes never left hers.

Both of Zaniyah’s friends looked from one to the other.

Marcus broke the eye contact. He accepted the cell phone from out the woman’s hand.

“Zaniyah scoot in.”

Zaniyah scooted closer in for the picture.

Marcus held the phone up and took the picture. He looked down at the cell phone screen.

“Nice picture of you two.”

“As you can see, there are three of us.”

Everyone looked up.

Zaniyah looked over at Marcus.

“It figures; you are not only rude, but you can’t seem to count as well.”

“Here you are beautiful.”

Marcus handed the one woman back her cell phone.

“Enjoy your dining you two.”

Zaniyah gritted her teeth at being ignored at all cost.

Marcus smiled at the two women and walked away from the three.

“Girl, what’s up with you two? That hunk of beef is fine as they come.”

“He’s alright.”

“I wonder what his stats are down below,” Rosalina, inquired

“Girl, your father will kill you if you even think about stepping out with a mulatto man,” Martina scolded her friend.

“Girl he looks half European himself.” Both women turned to face Zaniyah. “What do you think, Miss. I only have eyes for Domenico?”

“Shh, you two, here he comes.”

Zaniyah looked at Marcus undetected as he walked in the direction of the bar.

He was a very handsome man. His café au lait skin tone complexion was suave. His arresting dark-brown eyes always seem to hold her in contempt when she addressed him. A thin circled goatee wrapped around a pair off succulent lips. His body, she assumed he worked out; the results displayed a broaden chest wall, and what she could make out under his white shirt, peaks of muscled triceps and biceps. His jet-black hair was worn close to his head, and tapered to the sides. The small diamond stud in his left ear gave him an unscrupulous appearance.

He’s probably got several women chasing him already she thought.

“Zaniyah, get your head from out the clouds, our table is ready.”

All three women followed the maître d.


Written by SweetKittyCat5
Author's Note
This is a chapter from one of my many published novels. I will be adding a chapter as fitting to celebrate life in general.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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