Slender Bridge

by Katrina Clemons

  Copyright © 2018 by Katrina Clemons (Editor)

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Some characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Thank you very much for reading this book.

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  Title Page

  Title: Slender Bridge

  Subtitle: A Collection of African American Romance Short Stories

  Editor: Katrina Clemons

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Fall for You

  Full Court Press

  Completely Yours

  Fall for You

  Description

  Helen

  The love of my life cheated on me. I swore to not fall again. That is until I meet Scott Anderson. Scott is not only an a-list actor, but he is gorgeous, funny and charming. Our first encounter was in an elevator of a hotel. I thought that was it. But fate seems to have other plans.

  We meet again in my small town where he is shooting his new movie. The chemistry between us is undeniable. We throw caution to the wind and make the best of it.

  When the credit rolls, will our relationship end just like a movie? there is more to what we have than just a fling?

  Scott

  When we first met, I thought she was just a pretty star struck fan and shy to speak to me. When I meet her again a year later, I learn that there is more to her. She is independent, strong, beautiful, sexy, funny and caring. I’ll admit, I am attracted to her and I’d like to do many things to her. Like kiss her and all the naughty things that happens behind closed door. Our affair was supposed to be for only few weeks until I finish my movie and fly back home. Yet, my heart seems to not have gotten the memo.

  Chapter 1-Helen

  “Good morning, good morning, everyone! How are you all doing today, Carla? Is that sprain any better? Joseph, did Max come with the fruit delivery as yet? I need strawberries for the dessert dishes this weekend, and we ran out of grapes yesterday. Let me know as soon as he gets here.”

  I smiled as I greeted my staff and got ready for the busy day ahead. I put away my coat and scarf and slipped into my chef jacket. I pulled on a hairnet, making sure to tuck every strand of my curly auburn hair into the net. I pulled on a second one for additional security. I washed my hands and quickly got to work at the counter to assist with the breakfast bagels for the first sets of orders. The morning crowd had not yet come in, so it was an easy task.

  “Helen, good to see you here, love. We need three stacks of pancakes for Bianca. She wants chocolate chip, banana, and strawberry. She’s coming for them in twenty minutes or less.”

  “Sure thing, mom.” I smiled brightly at my mother, Lillian Anderson. She was our morning hostess at Andy’s and ran a tight ship keeping us on our toes with the orders.

  “Stacy?” I threw the name over my shoulder. I did not need to say anything else.

  “On it, boss lady.” I looked over to see that my sous chef had already started to whip up the batter for the pancake order. I went back to what I was doing with a smile. It was a good feeling to know I was working with people I could count on to pick up the slack at any given time.

  Andy’s was my parents’ gift to me three years ago. I was proud of what I had been able to accomplish with the small café at the relatively young age of twenty-six. In our few years of operation, we had come up in the state ranking of restaurants and now held a comfortable spot in the top ten.

  In the beginning, many food critics had come in and overlooked me when they asked for the chef. I think they often expected some tall, slightly fat man or woman with wrinkles and a permanent frown to emerge. I had become accustomed to the double-takes when they saw a young, caramel-complexioned girl who was barely five and a half feet tall, emerge from the kitchen.

  My light brown eyes would twinkle as I flashed my trademark smile and dimples at the start of the interview. It felt good that a little café such as ours had brought such recognition to Creek Town. It felt even better knowing that I was responsible for that as well.

  I had lived here all my life, leaving only for the few years I spent in culinary school. Everyone knew my father, Cooper Anderson, who was currently the acting Vice-Principal at Creek Town High, and my mother, Lillian, who had left her job as a secretary to help me get Andy’s up and running. I was their only pride and joy, and I loved them as dearly as they loved me.

  Ever since I started thinking about careers as far back as elementary school, I knew I wanted to cook. I had a one-track mind and maintained my focus so that at the end of high school, I entered culinary school at eighteen, and had my degree after four grueling years. I spent almost a year of washing dishes in the city. It was a miserable time for me, but I understood that this was a rite of passage, and I had to work my way from the bottom up. But my parents would not have it.

  My parents, being parents, sensed my unhappiness, and told me to come home. At first, I refused. The opportunities in Creek Town were even fewer than the city, and I was determined to make it as a chef. They insisted that I come home one weekend, and, being the obedient daughter that I was, did just that.

  Casually, we went on a stroll through the neighborhood. They asked some random questions about my career and where I saw myself in the next year or two. I answered as positively as I could and even justified the grunt work I was currently enduring. They said nothing more on the matter until a few weeks later when they again asked me to come home for the weekend.

  They took me to a little shop on the corner of Hughenden and Dunrobin. It was a storefront that had once housed a boutique but was now vacant. We had a serious family discussion, and the next thing I knew, my next visit home put the plans in place for me to move back home for good. Andy’s opened a few months later, and we had not looked back since.

  We opened at seven a.m. sharp and served breakfast until ten-thirty. The lunch menu started at eleven and went until three p.m., and then dinner was from four to nine. We also did off-site catering for weddings and parties. We were quite busy as there was a constant stream of business each day. We were busier still on the holidays and weekends.

  I placed the breakfast bagel sandwich that I had prepared onto a warm plate and pushed it onto the deck. I pushed the tiny bell on the counter.

  “Order sixty-three? Up!”

  I grabbed another ticket, checked it, and proceeded to the skillet station.

  Some would say I lived a charmed life, and that I was fortunate to have my parents hand me the keys to a restaurant. But what the outside world could not see was that my father had liquidated a few of his retirement policies, and my mother worked for a fraction of her former salary: all to get the restaurant started and to keep it afloat, especially that first year.

  We had received a few positive write-ups. That had been very good for business in the last year. It did not hurt that we were also in the top ten of the best restaurants in the state. It had seriously boosted our image.

  We had a committed staff who loved what they did, which made it easier to manage the establishment. At least ninety percent of the crew had been with me from the day we opened. We also had a few students from the high school who would come in and work part-time in the afternoons or weekends. They came in quite handy for busy seasons as well. Valentine’s Day was just two days away, and I already had the roster filled for those who would be on duty.

  Valentine’s Da
y. Hmmm. I could not help the smile that lit up my face as I thought about the significance the day held for me. It was on that day, two years ago, that Josh Duncan had walked into the restaurant for lunch. At the end of his meal, I had walked into the dining room just as he stood to leave. I had often wondered why I had chosen that moment. It had to be fate.

  “I hope you enjoyed your meal, sir.” I had said, with a bright smile on my face.

  “I have never had a more tasty lunch in my life. My compliments to the chef.”

  My smile had grown brighter, and I took a bow. “Thank you!”

  His jaw had dropped as he looked me up and down. “You’re the chef?”

  “Helen Anderson, at your gastronomical service.” I had extended my hand in greeting.

  His hand had engulfed mine and held it a little longer than was necessary. “Josh Duncan.”

  That had been the start of a beautiful friendship as Josh became one of our regulars. I would often time his arrival with a dining room errand. He was a hunk of a man, and I was not opposed to ogling him when I had the chance.

  He was six feet of chocolate goodness with a killer smile and a slim, trim physique. I would engage him in light-hearted conversation now and then and eventually found out that he was two years older and a junior accountant with a local firm. A few months later, he had asked me out on a date.

  On Valentine’s Day, in celebration of our first meeting, he had asked me officially to be his girlfriend. By all indications, this year, I expected a proposal. I had already scheduled myself to work that morning so that I would be free for whatever he had planned for the evening. Maybe for next year, it would be wedding bells.

  “Max is here, Helen!”

  “Thanks, mom!”

  I grabbed a coat and hurried to the delivery area and checked off and signed for the goods. I had quite a few desserts planned and was happy the delivery had come in good time. I quickly got the crates stowed in the cooler and went back to my station as the pace had picked up a bit.

  The rest of the morning went by, and before we knew it, we were also winding down the lunch service. As we prepared for the dinner service, I retrieved a box of about two dozen strawberries from the morning delivery. I took it to our head pastry chef, Monique, and whispered something in her ear. She burst out, giggling, and I covered my face and blushed. A short time later, she placed a neatly wrapped box with a red and gold bow in the chiller and winked in my direction. I held my head down and blushed again.

  I kept a sharp eye on the clock as I needed to be out on the dot of nine tonight. I had made plans and would still need to run home for a quick shower and to grab a bottle of wine. I knew that Josh had something up his sleeve for our anniversary, but what I had up mine, would be completely unexpected.

  The idea had popped into my head this morning when I saw how plump the strawberries were. I imagined what it would be like to feed them to him, and there was no time like the present. He would not see it coming.

  At nine, I quickly shrugged out of my jacket and grabbed my scarf and coat. I retrieved the box.

  “I’m so sorry that I can’t stop to wash down with you tonight, ladies and gents. It has been an awesome day, and we had three great services today. Thank you for your effort and commitment. I’ve got to run.”

  “Have fun!” I heard Monique call out, followed by her giggles yet again. Oh, yes, indeed! I intended to do just that.

  I ran to the parking lot, jumped into my faithful little hatchback, and was home in less than ten minutes. I had a quick shower. I found the most comfortable dress that I could pull over my head. A handful of mousse through my now loose hair was all I needed. I soon had my curls bouncing around my shoulders and halfway down my back. My make-up was minimal. A quick spritz of perfume and a swipe of shimmery lip-gloss, and I was ready. By nine forty-five, I was back in my car. I pulled into Josh’s parking lot about ten minutes later. His car was there. Good. This surprise would all have been for naught if he was not home. I took a deep breath. I felt a surge of adrenalin shoot through my system at what I was about to do. I checked my purse to make sure I had not left the spare key he had given me for his place.

  I held the box and bottle carefully as I pulled my coat a little closer. The walk was short, thankfully, and the foyer was warm. I smiled and waved at the night security and made my way to the elevator. I watched as the numbers seemed to crawl to the ninth floor. Finally, I stepped into the carpeted hallway and found Josh’s apartment. I took another bolstering breath. There was a slight tremble to my hand as I inserted the key. I anticipated that he would already be in bed. Quietly I entered the apartment and closed the door behind me. I slipped off my coat and shoes. With the box in one hand and the bottle in the other, I approached the bedroom. There was a light underneath it. Good. He was awake. My face lit up as I pushed the door open.

  “Hello, my darling! Guess whose Valentine is ear...ly…” The words froze on my lips.

  Josh sat up quickly. The sheet fell to his waist, revealing his naked, sweaty chest. The woman beside him sat up likewise, clutching the sheet to her chest. Her hair was in disarray as she fought to catch her breath. My mouth fell open as I recognized Sally, one of the waitresses from one of the restaurants we often patronized. I looked at Josh, then Sally, then back at Josh.

  It felt as if everything was moving in slow motion and underwater. I saw Josh’s lips moving as he attempted to get out of the bed but remembered his nudity. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sally attempt to move also but was hindered as well. I felt as if my ears were stuffed with cotton as I turned and fled. I clutched the bottle and box to my chest with one hand.

  “Helen!”

  I quickly grabbed my coat and shoes and was almost at the door when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I spun around and pushed him away. He stumbled backward as he held on to sheet at his waist.

  “Helen! We can talk about this. Come on, baby. Please. It’s not what you think!”

  “So give me another explanation for you and another woman being naked in bed. Do you think I was born yesterday? Get the fuck away from me! You filthy piece of slime!”

  “Helen! Please! Let me explain!”

  I wrenched the door open as best as I could with my hands full and ran out into the corridor. A glance over my shoulder showed that no one followed me. I dashed into the elevator before the doors barely opened. I quickly put on my shoes and coat. When it opened in the foyer, I ran out.

  Tears had sprung to my eyes when the enormity of the scene had sunk in. They now began to roll down my cheeks. I dashed them away angrily. I drove home quickly and raced into my apartment. In the privacy of my space is when I allowed the avalanche of tears to come. I crumpled to the floor sobbing. The bottle rolled away, and I tore the box open. My tears fell fast as I looked at the gold-painted, chocolate-covered strawberries. They were useless now. I flung the box away, and they scattered, much like my hopes and dreams with Josh.

  Chapter 2- Helen

  The next day was torture. At some point in the night, I had managed to drag myself to bed and had cried myself to sleep. I woke up with a killer headache, which only ebbed when I took a few aspirins.

  I was silent for most of the morning and spoke only when necessary. I tried to keep an upbeat expression, but my smile never quite reached my eyes. I sat in my car on my break and allowed a few tears to fall, then cleaned myself up as best as I could.

  To[JG1] make up for leaving early the night before, I took charge of the scrub down activities and was the last one to go. I reveled in the scalding water, and the energy I had to exert to scrub the counters and floors. I made sure every inch was gleaming by the time I left. My entire body ached when I got home, but it was still only a tiny fraction of the ache in my heart.

  My phone had been off all day. When I turned it on, I was not surprised to see several calls from Josh. He had left a few voice notes as well as sent text messages. I discarded them all without listening or reading. There was nothing he could tell m
e that would change what I had witnessed. There was no explanation he could give that would justify the fact that he had cheated on me. Had I gone straight there from the café, the sound of their ecstasy would have possibly greeted me at the door.

  I slept very little that night as well. As a result, I woke up feeling even worse than the day before. I contemplated calling in sick, but that was not the kind of thing the owner could do. And especially today, when we expected a bumper crowd, all hands were needed on deck. And so, I pulled myself together as best as I could. I used concealer to hide the dark circles beneath my eyes. I pulled out my brightest outfit and a red silk scarf for my hair.

  I got through the breakfast and lunch services fine. Then at about three-thirty, while the staff ate just before the dinner service, I lost the fragile control I had maintained for the past two days. A delivery came from the flower shop – for me. There were about two dozen red roses and a box of chocolates. The staff ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhhed’ as I signed for it with a smile. I smiled as I looked at the card.

  Then something inside me snapped. Calmly, I slowly tore the card into tiny pieces. I held them in my fist. I then took up the vase and chocolates and went to the bin. I held the vase high in the air, then released it, satisfied to hear the glass shatter as it hit bottom. I opened the box and dropped the chocolates one by one. I opened my fist and watched the torn shreds of card fall like confetti. Then, just as calmly, I rejoined the crew at the table.

  “Mr. Duncan is no longer welcome to eat here. Anyone who serves him is no longer welcome to work here. Understood?”

  “Yes, Chef!”

  I twirled my fork in the sauce that I now had no appetite to finish. I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m good, mum.”

  “You can take the night off. Stacy and Brenda can do the service.”

  I shook my head. “I’m good. It’s my heart that’s broken, not my hands.”

  Somehow, I managed to get through the night. I dared not venture into the dining room. I could not bear to see those happy couples. There were three engagements, and that made me feel even worse as I remembered the ring I had been hoping to get tonight.