by K. L. Brady
He secured her inside his sleek, black stretch corporate Mercedes. As they drove away from Hart headquarters, the windshield met a few frozen flakes released from the wintery clouds. He turned his attention from the outside to the inside, just in time to watch her slide her tongue across her sultry lips leaving a gloss he wanted to kiss.
"Well, now you've got your captive audience," she said. "Which Michelin-rated slop joint shall we grace with our presence today? Marcel's? Pineapple and Pearls? Or will we be dining at the Four Seasons?" The woman he knew would give the world and a ham sandwich to be home in her pajamas, reading a book next to her fireplace instead of minding her etiquette in some stuffy restaurant.
The woman he knew had not a single crap to give about his longing to show her how far he'd evolved from their Ramen noodle and butter pecan nights. She’d have zero desire to put thought into the correct fork to use with the right dish or in which direction to face her cutlery on her plate when she stepped away to the ladies' room.
That's the reason, in this moment, there was no other place he'd rather be—and no one else he'd rather be with.
"This may shock and surprise you, but none of the above."
She grinned a little. She was relieved.
"I thought we'd take a trip down memory lane," he continued. "What do you think about Di'Angelo's?"
"You mean to tell me you still eat pizza?" She snapped her head in his direction and looked at him with a bemused expression. "Chandra looks more like the green, gluten-free ice water and kale type."
He laughed at the factualness. She was as perceptive as always. "I want to say you're wrong about Chandra, but I ate here last week. Alone."
"Call me crazy, but it's hard to picture you in your tailored pinstripe, folding a slice over a frosted mug of beer." She looked into the distance. "I wonder if they still have that jukebox?"
He nodded. "Sure do. As a matter of fact, I don't think they've changed the music in a hundred years. Still the same," he said. "Remember K4?"
She turned toward him, and her eyes seemed to shine. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to erase the distance between them and kiss her.
"Mmm. K4. The memories. I think we single handedly kept Di'Angelo's in business with the money we spent in that jukebox—and on that pizza. It's amazing we haven't died of heart failure with all that greasy cheese, pepperoni, and sausage."
"I've probably had a couple of near misses, heart-wise, but no permanent failures. For better or worse, I'm still kicking."
They pulled up to the quaint little hole-in-the-wall tucked into a quiet, tree-lined street on Capitol Hill, not far from Union Station. Di'Angelo's hadn't changed a bit, although everything around it had evolved. It remained a blast from D.C.'s 1950s past. Inside, the crowd (mostly local) was sparse, no doubt hindered by the weather. "Their table" sat empty in the cozy corner, so Cody requested it.
"Wow," Tessa said. "Back down memory lane." Cody helped her off with her coat and she slipped into the booth, the red vinyl remained a throwback to a time long gone.
"Hope you don't mind. I texted our order ahead. I figured you'd want the usual."
"Mmmmm," she moaned, briskly rubbing her hands together.
The sound made his stomach flutter.
"Sounds perfect."
Her eyes roamed, seemed to sparkle with their memories as Cody concocted a strategy to keep their afternoon as enjoyable as it had begun.
"Why don't we strike a bargain for today, huh?" Cody said. "No business talk. Just for an hour. We can rile each other on the way back to the office. Truce?" He offered her a hand and waited for her to shake in agreement.
When she took his hand in hers, a pulse surged into his fingers and his arm and then through his entire body. He froze as she shook on the deal, but at the time they should've let go, they held on. Both of them.
"Your hands are cold." Cody sandwiched her icy hands in the warmth of his. He blew his toasty breath on them. Part of him wished he could do more; most of him was glad he couldn't. "Is that better?" he asked.
Tessa hesitantly pulled away.
"Yes, much. Thank you." Now her eyes laser-focused on him; they were at once innocent, fierce, and wicked. His insides twisted and curled with excitement. Her mere presence made him feel intoxicated, high. He hated that she still had this effect on him.
"So, let's catch up. Tell me something about you, something non-work related,” Cody said.
"Not much to tell. You want me to bore you to death? I'm the same workaholic. If I'm honest, I need more substance in my life, but Keep It Real is a hand full. A few more movie nights with Jiffy Pop wouldn't hurt a bit."
"You still make Jiffy?"
"Is there any other way to enjoy movie night? Well, when I make time, that is. It's been a minute."
"What else haven't you made time for?" He couldn't conceal the mischievousness in his voice. He asked with the hope of hearing the answer he wanted and with the fear of her saying the opposite.
She let him stew, taking a sip from a water glass. "My life includes everything I need to make time for...at least for now. Thank you very much.”
"Point well made," he said. "Present company excepted, any regrets?"
"Contrary to what you believe, I don't regret you. How could I? You brought me to my decision point. Because of you, I heeded the sign." She shrugged. "I've made mistakes, but I've also focused on making the next right decision. And someone once said we don't learn from successes but from failures which means I've learned far more than the average human."
Cody chuckled. "Impressive. Impressive, indeed." He bit his bottom lip, something he only did when deep in thought. "Don't get me wrong, I've got a great life. The right girl, the right job, picture perfect by all accounts. Under my father's watchful eye, there wasn't room for mistakes. My decisions impacted so many lives."
"Thirteen thousand, five-hundred, seventy-seven. The number of people you employ, globally."
His eyes brightened, surprised that she knew. "See? Truth is, I wish I had chosen a path that allowed me to stray, to fail. I probably couldn't admit that to anyone but you."
"We always fought as hard as we loved." She focused her gaze on her finger which traced a nick in the table cloth. "I guess, in some small way, we will always find a piece of home in each other. A place where we can say the things we can't say to anyone else."
"A seat to share after a kick in the family jewels," he said. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm...content."
"But not happy?" she asked.
He glanced away, probably because a truthful reply would've been damning.
"I'll be right back." He slipped out of the booth and strolled over to the jukebox. He beamed and, by the time he returned, a smile spilled into her lips. She heard it. "K4."
He stopped short of his seat and extended his hand in a familiar gesture. "May I have this dance?"
Perplexed by the offer, she glanced over each shoulder and peered up at him with a wrinkled brow. "Here? In front of everyone?"
"It's funny you should mention that because from the moment we took our seats, I forgot anyone else was here. You can't leave me hanging now. Dance?" He pleaded with his eyes, waiting for her to accept.
The sad puppy face proved effective, moving her out of her chair and into his arms. They danced and swayed to K4. An oldie but a goodie. The falsetto harmonies, the rhythm, the lyrical honesty took him back to another place, another time, the best of both.
Her body puddled in his warm embrace as her hands roamed from the middle to the small of his back, sending waves of chills through his toenails.
His eyes drifted close as the chorus played; he could feel the song's beat pound in rhythm with his heart. Once again, they were in sync; dancing with her felt as natural as breathing.
The sound of K4 dissipated, but they didn't part when the jukebox fell silent. Maybe all they had left was K4. Maybe they couldn't let go of the song, of each other...at least until the server arrived with a pizza pie
so enormous it would make a Brooklyner jealous.
The double extra-large covered much of the checkered linen beneath it.
"Holy mackerel," she exclaimed. "No wonder you called ahead. We'd have been here through the New Year waiting on this to finish cooking."
"Note the toppings."
"Mmm...pepperoni and sausage."
"Any more would ruin it," they said in unison.
After sharing a round of chuckles, they each grabbed a slice, halved it, and touched the tips in a toast. "To K4," Cody said.
Tessa smiled. "To K4."
Tessa flittered inside Keep It Real's creative suite nearly hyperventilating from the onset of a panic attack. "Whatever you ate for lunch, don't ever order that again," Mia warned her flustered friend who stood in her office door.
She'd tried, without success, to ground herself after lunch with Cody. Instead, she floated into her car, high atop cloud nine, desperate to hear K4 once more. The past had become the present.
She and Cody traveled through time, not back to a moment, rather to the feelings, the emotions they'd invested in one another. She returned to her office elated and was mowed over by their unfortunate reality, one she'd have to face sooner or later.
Chandra? Kyle? Real talk? What am I gonna do now? Tessa mumbled to herself.
Staying away from Cody, letting him go five years before, meant allowing herself to believe he'd transformed into the worst of men. In one afternoon, he obliterated the notion. He reverted to the familiar man, the soul mate, who once consumed every fiber of her being, her body, and her mind. In a span of mere hours, he rejoined the broken parts of her heart she'd long thought beyond repair.
"I think I'm making a mistake,” Tessa said.
"With what?"
One listen to K4 reconnected her to the Cody she fell in love with, a love he couldn't return, a love that kept her from facing the new horizon where Kyle stood waiting and available with open arms. Bitter witch behaviors were easy to embrace in the midst of anger and fury, but impossible in this...whatever she was feeling.
With every sincere apology he offered, however egregious his offense, he chipped away at the barrier she'd constructed to keep herself safe from him. With K4, Cody caught her with her defenses low. The breach that remained after their dance, filled with confusion, indecision, and uncertainty. She dashed inside Mia's office and shut the door. Mia paused to absorb Tessa's disturbed demeanor.
"The new line. Real Talk. I'm having second thoughts," she said. "Maybe...I dunno. Maybe it's not such a good idea."
Mia stood up, placed her hand against Tessa's forehead to check her temperature. Then she leaned against the front of her desk.
"Mmm-hmm. You must've forgotten who I am. You and I both know your change of heart has nothing to do with the line. So, tell me what this is really about."
Tessa scraped her fingers across her scalp and expelled an audible, throaty groan.
"He fed me pizza and beer. We danced, too. Okay, perhaps I misjudged him."
"Who—him?"
"Cody. I thought he bought Keep It Real to prove I failed, to rub my struggles in my face. I thought he saved the company so that he could lord it over me for the rest of my life. I never suspected..."
"What?"
"I never conceived that he valued the company. I certainly never believed he valued...me. And, today, let's just say I learned that, well, I might be an idiot."
"First of all, I've known you were an idiot for"—she counted on her fingers on both hands which made them laugh.
"Tessa. For real? How about I can't believe we're having this conversation? How about I went on a date to the movies with a man that debated whether I was entitled to Twizzlers with my freaking popcorn."
"Aye aye aye."
"You spent lunch with a man who not only paid for the meal, but bought your company at a multi-million-dollar premium, and sent your valuation through the roof. I'm trying to figure out what reasonably intelligent man would pay millions more for a company he believed to be worthless? To quote my Southern mama, may she rest in peace, 'where they do that at?'"
Tessa found a snicker inside of a sigh. "I might've seen that if I hadn't been so..."
"Blinded with anger and resentment."
"Blind? No. But there might've been a little glare of resentment," she said. "He asked me to lead a project, to mentor a team developing the Hart specially abled line."
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah, and the kids, more like interns, are pretty amazing, especially this girl, Joya. She's the perfect fit for Keep It Real. So funny. Like me ten years ago, except better employed. You'd adore her."
As Tessa blathered on, Mia stared at her friend until, finally, she noticed Mia's blank look. "What?"
"You're still in love with him, aren't you?"
"In —what? Are you—? No! After what he did to me? How could I? I mean, I couldn't be in...could I? No."
"Tessa, if despair and hurt made women stop loving men, Ben & Jerry's would be out of business. I'm just saying."
"Ridiculous. Besides, he broke things off with me."
"Heartache has zero bearing on how much you love someone. You guys didn't even have a clean break. Along with that Dear Jane card, he left unfinished business."
Tessa shrugged. "I'll admit it. Our parting didn't exactly allow for closure, at least not for me."
"Did you ever think that perhaps he ended your relationship the way he did because he didn't want you to close the door on your future with him?"
"That's ridiculous.” She cocked her head to the side. "Isn't it?"
"Your selective memory allowed you to believe it was simple. It wasn't. The man proposed, despite his family's disapproval."
"Now, who's the one selecting memories? I seem to be the only one who recalls that he spent years Jedi mind-tricking me into accepting that we didn't need marriage because our commitment without it meant more. Then he flipped the script."
"People change."
"Not in one night."
"Did you ever think something happened to change his mind? Did you ever ask?"
"No—and why are we having this discussion, again?"
"Because you can't handle the truth," she said, giving her the best Jack Nicholson impression.
"No, what I can't handle is confusion. True love, real love, brings clarity, not confusion. So, I'm going to my office, the only place where life makes sense."
"Quitter," Mia replied.
"Enabler," Tessa added as she folded over with laughter. Then her mind flashed back to the dance with Cody and nothing even mattered. Seeing his face would make all the confusion disappear.
Tessa began texting Cody's office to let him know she wanted to see him again, to dance to K4, and she stopped mid-sentence.
Although she was free-ish, he was not. She switched gears and began scrolling through her cellphone mail as she proceeded down the hall before literally bumping a shoulder.
"Oh, excuse me." Tessa lifted her head from the phone screen and saw Chandra—of all people. She felt as if she wore a scarlet letter "G" for guilty.
"I'm so sor—Tessa!" Chandra exclaimed, looking winter chic in her white cashmere coat and some fancy thigh-high boots. "You're just the woman I was looking for."
"You were looking for me? Why?" Tessa swallowed hard and her heartbeat raced.
Did Cody break up with her after lunch? Did Chandra know what happened between them? Maybe she had him followed by a private detective?
Tessa’s emotions were knotted in curiosity, anxiety, and confusion. And women were the best performers. Chandra could fake nice and be really angry all at once.
"My visit's unexpected, I know.” Chandra kept her voice just above a whisper as if she'd planned to share a secret. "Could we talk in private for a second? In your office, perhaps?"
Tessa replied with a hesitant nod. "Sure. Follow me."
Tessa led her inside, her eyebrows scrunched the entire way. Why in heavens would she want to talk? Wh
at could they possibly have to discuss? She'd only been in the presence of a woman for the better part of thirty minutes.
As they passed Mia's desk, Mia's head flinched back, and she blinked rapidly.
All Tessa could do was offer a barely perceptible shrug. Inside her office, Tessa tucked herself behind her desk and offered Chandra a guest chair.
"Now, what can I do to help you?"
"I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here to see you. I mean, we barely know one another."
"The question did cross my mind," Tessa said.
Chandra took her seat, crossed her legs, and pointed her toe as dainty as a prima ballerina.
"About that night at ThaiPhoon, I wanted to apologize. I'd planned to cook a nice dinner for a cozy night at home...mind you I never cook. But I can't help but think if I had made the turkey meatloaf, we'd have been home streaming The Crown, not sitting at your table, all up in your face, like we're cousins or something."
"Yeah, well..."
"Helen Keller could see the tension between you two. I don't even consider myself to be that perceptive, and I picked up on it before we sat down."
Tessa chose her words carefully. Yes, she and Cody had indulged in their resurgent emotions, but she had no idea whether that would change anything for them. "We broke up and didn't get much closure. What you witnessed amounted to little more than rigor mortis. In that moment, there was nothing between us except an ambushing and an acquisition."
"He told me as much," she said.
The level of smug in Chandra's voice tweaked Tessa's nerves, but she was determined to remain civil.
"Trust me, he left with a little something extra hanging out of his butt when I got through giving him the devil—and I'm not talking about hemorrhoids"—she snorted— "How did he expect you to react? But, I don't know, after he explained his reasons, I kind of understand."
"Explained?"
"I mean, you're a business owner so you know the purpose of these acquisitions—struggling company, tax write-offs. I'm just a real estate agent so the details are, whoosh"—she waved her hand over her head—"But now he's committed to making the business work, no matter what it takes. I just wanted to make sure you understood that your business isn't in danger or anything. I guess with the board meeting and the vote coming up, he needs to resolve any confusion. Drastic times, drastic measures."
