front of me. I’d given him short hair with a slight
swoosh to the front. Clipped brows framed his large eyes. I needed
to work on his cheeks. No man had angled cheekbones; they only
existed in romance novels.
The one on my nightstand had sex scenes I
didn’t think were humanly possible. My imagination got away with
me. Running my hands over his face, I could almost feel warmth
under there. A quick intake a breath told me I wasn’t alone.
“ I’ve seen that look
before.” Angie’s voice carried a tinge of laughter.
“ Okay, I’m tempted. Who
wouldn’t be?” The hair stood up on the back of my neck, like I’d
been caught masturbating by my mother. The harsh defensiveness
audible in my tone, softening I asked her, “Who was at the
door?”
“ Someone delivering
another note.” She handed me an envelope.
There was gold dust inside with a card.
“ Sprinkle this on your
sculpture, make sure to cover every body part. Then, the magic will
begin,” I read aloud. “It doesn’t say when it will be picked
up.”
“ Or if you’ll be paid.
Remember, if a sculpture is left in your shop for more than a week
unclaimed, it becomes the property of Viviana’s Sculpture and Home
Décor.” She stated the store policy beautifully stenciled on the
front windows.
It would take up half my cold room. I
noticed a few places he needed touching up as I inspected his
calves. Grabbing my shapers, I started to accentuate his
musculature. This man was going to be a dream. I thought of every
body builder I’d photographed as I gave him the form it took him or
her years to perfect. Lost in my work, I barely acknowledged Angie
as she headed home to her husband and kids.
Adonis was beautiful; everything my ex
wasn’t, physically. I knew every curve. At night, alone, he was the
fantasy keeping me company. I lived on the second floor. Upstairs,
after my nightly shower, I swear I could smell hot chocolate. It
fed the dreams where Adonis comes to life, pledges his undying love
to me, and then makes love to me for hours.
I’d completed my three stages of
relationship grief—cake, alcohol, and depression. The chocolate god
before me was the first thing I sculpted when I returned to work, a
six foot two milk chocolate dream. At five foot four, I had to keep
a step stool nearby to work on his shoulders and head.
A few hours were left before I closed when I
went to work on his head. The bell over the door would alert me
should anyone show up. Rare to have customers this late in January,
most of my work being ordered for Christmas. The past six weeks
proved very profitable. I wouldn’t need to sell anything else until
the next holiday season.
On the stool, leaning over his face, I
started perfecting his hair. I used a sewing needle for the finest
lines. Uneven hair in places made it look more realistic. I’d seen
too many bad weaves on the beach. Perfect rows of hair didn’t exist
in nature.
“ Okay, Adonis, you’re
perfect. Now, I’m going to bed. If you want to make your creator
very happy, feel free to come to life and join me.” I laughed as I
sprinkled his entire body with the gold dust.
It wouldn’t fit into all areas of his
crotch, so I rubbed it on my fingers and gently tapped it between
his balls, over his penis, and all of the shaded places. It was
more erotic for me than it should’ve been. Embarrassed at how
turned on I was, I pulled the cover over him.
The front of the store was silent. Faces of
mothers and daughters I’d known looked at me from cherubs and small
ornaments. I loved doing that work. Every family member should have
a small sculpture ornament. It was my most popular item, and the
reason I didn’t have to worry about money this year. Online sales
hit the millions worldwide. I started taking orders in June and
closed them by Halloween to guarantee holiday delivery. January’s
slow sales weren’t a worry for me. Which was good; I wasn’t sure I
could deal with large crowds yet.
The street was