The Accidental Incarnate From Another Lifetime ( Part I of IV)

Have you ever encountered someone’s mere presence for the first time, and instantly connected with the chi of the individual. Two hearts for a still moment in time beating as one. Words of honey escaping from a pair of generous lips; flaming the fire within the depth of your soul. Brooding dark-brown roaming over you from head to toe. Silently embracing me with the aura of a sinewy physique, emotionally weakened by his stature attendance.  
   
Nursing Convention  
St. Louis, Missouri 2018  
   
I strolled through the entrance doors of Embassy Suites by Hilton St. Louis.  
I surveyed my surroundings. The lobby is quiet, other than several guests either checking in or checking out. I pulled my rolling luggage and strolled over to the front desk. I removed my Baby Phat sunglasses from off my face and rested them on top of my head.  
The male gentleman behind the Oak wood desk looked up from his computer.  
   
“Can I help you?”  
“Yes, I have a reservation.”  
“Your name.”  
“Gabriella.”  
   
I waited as my name was confirmed, and my hotel room number assigned.  
   
“Yes, here it is.”  
   
I went through the formality of registration. I was promptly given my hotel key-card.  
   
“Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome,” I returned.  
   
I balanced my Chanel traveling bag over my shoulder, reached down, and grasped the handle of my Chanel rolling luggage.  
I made my way over to the elevators and pushed the elevator up button. I looked down as an outstretched finger pushed the button. I asked myself why? When it was already lit and ready under the command to open.  
   
“You smell very good.”  
“Thank you,” I tossed over my shoulder.  
   
Silence ensued.  
I got the faint impression, I was being scrutinized from behind.  
   
The black skirt, I had on showcased my gingered-colored toned legs, stuffed inside a pair of black Baby Phat  boots.  
The elevator doors slid open. I quickly stepped on with my luggage trailing behind me. I held my breath knowing I would have to face the stranger who lagged my presence.  
I heard the elevator doors close, trapping me in a world of isolation from society for ten entire floors.  
I turned around, and held my head down, however, the curiosity in me dared me to lift my head, at the voice, who have taken the time, to whiff the exotic scent of my body.  
I cleared my throat and pretended to muse my mind with the elevator’s Mozart music embracing the mood.  
   
“What floor?”  
   
In my state of naïve, I forgot to press the elevator button. I looked up. I do not usually swear, but damn, time stood still. I heard violins playing in the background, superseding the sounds of Mozart.  
   
The man was the perfection from the dust from which he was created. The mold God created this Adonis in, was broken after completion.  
I would usually open my mouth to respond; at this moment, vowels and consonants were not in alliance.  
   
“What floor?”  
   
A wicked smiled took residence on his handsome face; his arrogance letting me sink to the feeling this was not unusual for such a blunt involuntary reaction.  
I slightly shook my head, emitting my response in the realm of reality.  
   
“I’m sorry, the tenth floor.”  
“Lucky for me, my floor as well.”  
   
If you only knew, my mind screamed how lucky we could be together.  
This stranger leaned forward and pressed the number ten button. We stood side-by-side inside our own time capsule.  
   
“Are you here for the Astronomy Convention in town?”  
“No. the Nurse’s Convention.”  
   
The stranger palmed his smooth aquiline chin down.  
   
“I see.”  
“I’m sorry, what do you see?”  
“A beautiful healer, I would love to get the chance to talk about the stars and the moon over dinner.”  
   
Maybe it was the intoxicating cologne he wore, or the blessed thought of him on his knees in the evening hours with me laying on a bed of roses spread-eagle, whatever the thought acclaimed too, it was not a wasted one.  
   
“I would love too, however, maybe tomorrow.”  
“Why wait for tomorrow, when we are living in today?”  
“Are you a poet?”  
“No, a philosopher and an astronomer.”  
“Really?”  
   
The corners of my mouth turned up.  
   
I swear, I left the hypnotic words of a faceless philosopher, whose stanzas are guided by the latitude and the longitude of the celestial body in the back of my mind, after I boarded my flight.  
   
“You have a beautiful smile.”  
“Thank you. A philosopher, seriously.”  
“I hope you contain that excitement much later on.”  
“One could only hope.”  
   
I swear, I just wrote that line yesterday too.  
I am starting to believe life does imitate art, it must for this day, and at this pivotal moment.  
I looked at the flashing red numbers as the elevator slowly crawled, this introduction phase was quickly coming to an end. Once those two elevator doors part. This is the end of this momentum ride to my unknown destination.  
   
“You did not answer my question. Would you have dinner with me this evening?”  
   
That question has so many possibilities, and hopefully, I could provide the right answer.  
   
“I am not quite familiar with St. Louis.”  
“Not to fear, I am.”  
   
My own handsome bodyguard, and for an Erotica Author, I define that, with or without clothing.  
The elevator ascended to our destination and crested.  
The elevator doors slowly slid open.  
The stranger stepped back, to allow my departure. He stepped off after my exit.  
The elevator doors slid close.  
I took a deep breath and faced a future decline, or a future bedmate.  
   
“How about I meet you somewhere to go and get a bite to eat.”  
“We are on the same floor, gorgeous, I’m sure it would not be a bother to knock on your door. Speaking of, what is your room number?  
“1002.”  
   
The stranger displayed that enticing smile once again. His eyes memorizing; my mind falling prey to him stroking me in forbidden places on a bed of Roses.  
   
I write about several characters within novels, but to actually feel the spellbinding emotions of the aura of what a character could be in bold and vivid color, have mercy on me with a box of prophylactics, and why do I continue to think about Roses?  
   
“My room number is 1004.”  
“Your next door, get out.”  
“At least we will not be disturbed from someone else head banging the headboard, other than our own.”  
   
Woo, slow down tiger, I wanted to say, however, sexual innuendos is what makes America work for me.  
   
“You are very…very persistent.”  
   
Why was I starting to sound like my own darn novels with responses?  
   
“I like who I saw when you stepped out the cab.”  
   
And I like who I see now I thought.  
   
My mind toyed with the thought of flirting with danger. I guess his handsomeness, the words of a passionate philosopher. For a moment, I allowed creole to slip in there, as I was saying, and the study of stars. I say if this is not fate, then I can’t name it.  
   
“Okay, I will be ready at five o’clock I need to go for a swim, the Jacuzzi, and then a mile on the treadmill.”  
“You work out.”  
“Look me over and think about your answer handsome.”  
I needed any excuse for him or me to back out.  
“I like the Rose tattoo to your upper thigh.”  
“But how?”  
   
I looked down. I thought my thigh-high pleated skirt shielded the bare legs of a bowlegged female, apparently not.  
   
“And actually, it’s a Fairy holding a Rose.”  
“I’ll explore further in the future for clarification.”  
“If allowed.”  
“It will be no doubt.”  
   
Silence engulfed the quiet corridor.  
   
“Well this is my hotel room.”  
   
The stranger looked at the numbered golden plaque affixed to the door.  
“So, I see.”  
I bit down on my lips. I’m usually very expressive, what happened to me today. Maybe I can blame it on jet-leg.  
“I will be ready at…”  
“Five o’clock. There is a poetry reading being held not too far from here.”  
“I love poetry.”  
“Good, when they call for open mic, I expect to see you rise and let the mic be your taking.”  
“Say, do you have any kinfolk in…say…the south.”  
“Who doesn’t have a kinfolk somewhere in the South?”  
   
Oh, forget it, too many written novels and fan adoration narratives from my end I thought to make any connections.  
   
I turned to my hotel room door.  
The heat expelling from the proximity of this stranger’s  muscular body, one could only write about, at this moment, this is real.  
   
“Wait.”  
   
I turned to face him and then looked up into his dark-brown eyes.  
   
“Dinner would be more enjoyable, if a name goes with the face.”  
   
I held my breath waiting for his answer.  
   
“My name is Aristotle.”  
“As in the Philosopher?”  
“Before you bail on me. My mother had a fascination with the stars, and she was a professor.”  
“Let me guess philosophy.”  
“No Astrophysics.”  
“An interesting field of study.”  
“For her to name me after a philosopher, I have to say a damn good major.”  
   
We both laughed.  
   
“Okay, Aristotle.”  
“I’ll see you later, Gabriella .” He palmed his smooth aquiline chin. “I like that.  
“Gabriella which means "Woman of God."    
My name purring from his lips while lying under this handsome man in the throne of ecstasy, hot damn. I will make sure I pull out all the stops for this evening.  
   
“How did that information roll off your tongue so quickly?”  
Aristotle leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’m a poet, remember.”  
   
He repositioned his presence and winked at me.  
   
“I will keep that thought in mind.”  
“I’ll see you in a minute.”  
“All right.”  
   
I slipped my keycard into the lock and opened my door.  
Aristotle lifted my rolling luggage and settled it near my hotel door.  
I placed my hotel keycard on the table near the door, and then rested my overnight traveling bag and purse near my luggage.  
Aristotle leaned against my door frame.  
I followed his eyes to his Rolex wrist watch.  
   
“Would you like to go and grab some lunch?”  
“I’m sorry, me and several co-workers are going sightseeing, and then shopping.”  
“Then I will see you this evening.”  
“All right.”  
“By the way, you look nice.”  
“Thank you again.”  
   
Aristotle straightened his stance, turned,  and walked next door. I closed my door and locked it.  
   
“That interaction was creepy, totally out the box.”  
   
I feel like fate or destiny has somehow met me in St. Louis.  
Me and my imagination from saying I have walked this land before. However, when you are faced with that realization, it is not as it seems. I stared a man in the eyes, who, seriously looks the epitome, of someone I have or would have written about. And the funny part is, I am not standing by Mr. Roarke or Tattoo from Fantasy Island.  
If I had to pick a character from out of one of my novels. If you ever read one of my many novels. This handsome gentleman, seriously, is a written replica of Vander.  
I will write tomorrow. If I don’t, just maybe I was whisked away on a magic carpet ride, or as someone once stated to me so beautifully.  
   
If our souls and minds could connect through that star and send intangible recognition. I just want to get lost up there one day you know. Just get lost in some trance of those beautiful stars. Taking me off of Earth, from all of this craziness for one night, rejuvenating my spirit and thoughts.  
“S”  
   
I lifted my luggage, traveling bag, and purse from off the carpet. I walked into my adjoined master bedroom suite.



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