Shopping was done, and now I was back to face my own elephant in the room. The same elephant that had come shopping with me, and the same one that came back home with me. It wasn’t good company at all. It reminded me over and over that I’d fucked up with Zane. And he knew that I did, and I was sure that was the reason he hadn’t so much as reached out to me. This wasn’t his first rodeo, where my actions got in the way of what we were trying to build. And all in such a short amount of time.
He was probably done with the back and forth; the up and down.
And who could blame him?
I hadn’t been heavily into the dating scene. But even so, I was aware that women held a lot of the power in situations like mine and his. Especially, when sex was involved. And we had great sex-sessions together. At least I thought so. But maybe Zane wasn’t a man driven by sex. Or maybe it was that he could have whomever he wanted, and wasn’t really worried about running behind the same woman—over and over again.
But still… the sex was good!
We were still new to each other, though. So, an everlasting effect of sex may not have kicked in with him yet. How not, though? It certainly had for me. So much so, that I missed being sexed by that man.
Well, why go and run him off then, Giselle?
Shit.
Music. That’s what you need.
If I didn’t turn something on, I’d soon be on the phone with my mother, or bugging Skai. Neither of those needed to happen with liquor in my system. My mother would end up finding out about a man she didn’t even know that I was seeing. And then I would surely leak to Skai, everything about the way I acted, that led to this moment of contemplation.
Yeah, just turn on the music.
Minutes later I was perfectly tipsy, in a steamy hot shower. The only light was the one in the ceiling of my shower, and I had it dimmed. My showers were my thinking place. Couple that with music, and I’d probably emerge a whole lot lighter. On top of my countertop, my JBL speaker pushed out sounds of Jill Scott from my neo soul playlist on Pandora. And as Jill sang, my mind wandered… to Zane. I expected that to happen. I had him on my mind for most of the day.
After I entered that adult space of accepting accountability, he was all I thought about.
It was up to me to fix things…
11 | Zane
“I appreciate you meeting me tonight, Zane. I didn’t know if you’d agree to it.”
“Not a problem at all.” I looked around at the lounge, immediately drawn to the ambiance. “Nice spot here. Cozy.”
“Yeah, I like it a lot. I figured it would be a good place to talk.”
I brought my Scotch on the rocks to my mouth and drank some down, purposely hesitating before I spoke. “I’m all ears. Talk away.”
“I’m sure I’m the last person you expected to hear from, huh?”
“You could say that. I was a little surprised.”
“Just a little?”
“Just a little…” I confirmed.
“So, is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
I shrugged my shoulders, not answering either way. “Not sure yet.”
“You are a tough one.”
“Not really. Just waiting… that’s all.”
“Oh. I guess that’s my cue to get it out.”
“It’d be nice.”
“Well, okay… I’ll just shoot straight from the hip.” I saw her search my eyes for initial response. But I kept my poker face. She asked to meet, I was going to allow her to take her lead. She maintained her same confident stance, but I did see that some nerves were present. It was in the way she kept shifting in the leather chair across from mine. “The way you’re looking at me. Those eyes. They’re so piercing.”
“You want me to look away?”
“No, I don’t. I kinda like it. Makes me want to know what’s going on in your mind.”
“Speak your peace, and you might find out.”
“Ahem,” she coughed out, clearing her throat. “Okay. I did say that I’d shoot straight from the hip. So, here goes.” She straightened her posture to an erect position, then put it all out there. “I liked what I saw. I’m attracted to you, and want to get to know you better.”
I knew what she was going to say long before she said it. I killed the last of my Scotch on the rocks, then sat my glass on the table in between us. I watched her for a few seconds, before saying, “I guess I did kind of pick up on something like that earlier when you were hinting about who would show up to see the house. If I would be having a lot of company. I figured you had a situation in mind, that involved you and me.”
She wanted me to fuck her. I knew that seconds into meeting her. I just didn’t think she would be as forward to call me hours after she left my viewing, and invite me out for drinks. She had changed her outfit, and now wore a pair of skinny jeans, that showed exactly how skinny she was. And she had on a cream blouse, almost-nude, that was very revealing. Nice tits, attractive cleavage. But she wasn’t getting fucked tonight. At least not by me. I just didn’t feel like turning her down flat. She would’ve kept finding ways to call. I knew her type.
She flirtatiously twirled a lock of her dark hair between her fingers and bit down on her red-painted lips. “I figured you knew. I can be a bit forward; I know. I guess it comes with the job. Being in real estate, I’m used to being the aggressor. Driving the hard sales, dealing with those in the higher tax brackets who tend to have a different way of interacting. Dealing with that way of life tends to easily transfer from business to personal, you know? So, I’m forced to be an al—”
“Alpha female. I know.”
“Uh-oh. You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Not at all. Especially, when business calls for it. I can imagine that you deal with all types of buyers and need to exert that energy to state and protect your position. I get it.” I studied her for a moment, looking at the shine of her eyes, her high cheekbones, and her pretty face. “But knowing when to shed the masculine energy, is what brings about attraction. At least with me. Did you feel like I was attracted to you earlier?” I asked her.
“Umm . . .” She began to fidget, placing one hand in her lap, then reaching for the drink beside her, with the other. Her confidence was diminishing. It wasn’t what I meant to happen, but for some reason, she fell in that direction. “I couldn’t really gauge,” she responded. “You’re hard to read. Just like now. I can’t tell if I’m being scolded, or let down easy. Or nothing at all.”
“I would never scold you, Miss Crawford. I don’t do that—even if the woman is mine. I just converse and see what conclusions are reached. Nothing extra. I’ll just say that earlier when you were supposed to be conducting business—you were in my business. My personal business. All before I even got to get acquainted with my new residence.”
“I-I-I… I guess I… did come a bit strong.” She lowered her eyes from mine and focused on the rim of her glass, nervously tracing around the circumference. “Maybe even a little inappropriate.” She looked up at me, squared her shoulders and attempted a smile. “I apologize for that. You could very well have declined my offer for drinks, and yet you’re here. So, does that mean that there’s at least a smidgen of hope?”
Gotta give it to her. That sales nature had long-risen to the top of what would be her list of attributes. It was there to stay.
“I met you for drinks because drinks are just that—drinks. Casual. Platonic. There was no offer of sex, there was no offer of a nightcap. Drinks was all that was brought up. And I figured why not? Everyone could stand a drink at the end of a busy day, right? You were selling, I was packing. Busy days, right?”
“Okay, Zane. So, let’s say there was the offer of sex… after a nightcap? No strings attached. Just two consenting, attractive adults…”
Her words trailed in the distance. At least I thought they did. I wasn’t really sure because I had already picked up my phone from beside me to see what the text message was, that had just pushed out a chirp noti
fication:
“Hey. I miss you. Can we talk?”
12 | Giselle
I was a nervous wreck!
A complete nervous wreck!
Standing in my bedroom window, I was showered, dressed in a short, thin PJ set, had my glass of wine in my hand, and waiting. Waiting and summoning the courage I needed in order to have the dreaded conversation. Zane had only responded with a single “Yes,” and nothing else. So, I didn’t know what type of energy he would be calling me with. But now that I think about it, he didn’t say that he would call. He only said that we could talk.
What does that mean, Zane?
Are you calling?
Am I calling?
Shit…
It wouldn’t be like him to not call after giving that response. Would it? No, it wouldn’t. And because of that, I refused to get inside my head with the negative.
At least that’s what I was going to try to do.
I focused on the mild breeze blowing through the window, brushing against my face, and caressing my arms. It felt nice, which was a surprise. Usually, even at this time of night, it was still that desert heat, and blowing hot air. Tonight’s hot air wasn’t that bad, but to encourage a cooler breeze, I also had my ceiling fan going.
I had dimmed my bedroom lights, my JazzHop played softly in the distance. Ever since that Uber ride home from the Bellagio, I’d been hooked. It was the most calming music I had ever heard.
While I did feel confident, my erratic nerves were kicking my ass. I needed Zane to hurry up and make his move with a phone call. I made the first move, and now it was his turn. And hopefully, it would be tonight. I didn’t want to lose the courage to say everything I needed to say. I knew that once the words left me, and hit the air, I would be able to relax my mind.
I think…
I hope…
When my phone finally rang out, I snapped alive. It was him. I knew it. Instantly, my heartrate began to beat rapidly against my chest. I set the liquor aside, and went for my phone.
Don’t be scared.
That won’t get you anywhere.
With each step toward the device, I huffed and puffed. Preparing. What if he was just calling to oblige, to be nice, but had no interest in what I had to say at all? I prayed that I didn’t sound crazy saying all that I had pre-rehearsed. And for all I knew, Zane could shut me down as soon as I started to speak.
Oh Lord, be some courage, please.
The phone was in my hand, ringing out for the second time.
Oh my God! Woman up, Giselle!
I inhaled and exhaled. Then…
“Hello?” I said, sounding like a little-ass girl.
“Hello to you too, Giselle.”
Sigh. That voice. That damn voice. I missed it. I missed him.
“I appreciate you calling me back. Did I… did I… interrupt you?” Why did I even ask him that?! What if he gives an answer that I wasn’t ready for? “You know what? Never mind. Scratch that. You don’t need to—”
“You didn’t interrupt anything. How have you been?” he asked, casually.
“I’ve been… okay, for the most part.” I stepped back to my original spot in front of the window, where I could feel comforted by the breeze and the clear, now-darkened sky. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been… okay, for the most part,” he said, mimicking my words. For more than a few seconds, my voice was held captive. I was in my head, overthinking when I needed to be organic in all my actions. In all that I had to say. I prepared to dive into my spiel. Take it or leave it, I was going in. “Well, of course, I called you for a reason. I’ve been in construction mode. Building… courage. I just want to ask if you’ll allow me to get it all out. And then, if you want to hang up, or add to it…”
“I won’t say a word. I’m all ears.” I reclaimed my glass of wine from the windowsill, and killed the remainder. “Giselle?” he called out, when I had gone silent for too long.
“I’m here. Whew . . .” I sighed. “Okay, so let me begin by saying that I’m sorry, Zane. I really am sorry for my actions. I’m new to relationships. Very new. I really only ever had one real one that started as a young girl. I operated off of all or nothing. Be all in, or all out. And in that broken union, I gave my all; so, I emerged feeling like I had nothing more to give. I’m a bright woman, but it took me far too long to realize that I was giving all… with nothing in return. Not until it was too late. The truth is, I had to learn all over again, how to give—my heart. How to want to give. It was you who made me want to give, and in turn, I made you feel as though you were disposable. You’re not. My issue was an internal one where I was operating off of the fear that we happened so fast. I let that fear manifest, and I don’t even… know how to tell you how remorseful I am. I… I… want to be with you. I’m a good me—with you.” I paused to take a deep breath. “I mean, look. I’m the woman who had a severely delayed freak moment at 42! Forty-damn-two! I hadn’t really lived an intimate adult moment—until that moment—with you. Because of you.”
I took a few steps back from my window, when I saw the woman from earlier, storming out of Trevor’s home. She looked to be rushing away from something, or toward something. Her ass didn’t even look like she was fully dressed! Was she even dressed?!
Freaks!
“Wow, Giselle. I…” He paused. “Wait, what is that?” he asked, alarmed.
“Oh my God. You heard that?” I asked him, at the sound of something really loud, coming from somewhere really close. “Oh my God… Zane, you hear that?!” I repeated when the noise sounded out again.
“I did. Are those—”
“Somebody’s shooting,” I whispered, crouching down to the floor. “I think somebody’s shooting. And… Zane, it’s close…”
“Okay. Giselle, listen. Hang up, call 9-1-1, then call me right back! I’m on the way!”
13 | Giselle
Even with Zane sitting next to me, holding onto me, I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t stop crying either. I was in a state of disbelief. “You’re okay,” he continuously reassured me, pulling me into him tighter. “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
But even with his consolation and the promise to stay, it was all too much to take in. Adding to the shock of everything was the reminder that whatever the situation was, it was still ongoing. My block was filled with cops. Had Zane gotten here a few minutes earlier, he wouldn’t have made it through because my street had hindrances at either end.
There were flashing blue and red lights beaming off the ceiling and walls of my living room. It was all so traumatizing. I had never seen crime up close. Especially, never had anything violent happen across the street from the place I laid my head at night.
I had the misfortune of actually seeing the paramedics exit Trevor’s house, with him on a stretcher—unresponsive. The officer standing in my living room, explained to us that although Trevor was still alive, he was unsure of the severity of his injuries.
Thankfully, the officer, he had given me more than a few moments to regroup. As hard as I was trying to keep it together, the visual of seeing a person that I knew, possibly dying or already dead, was… too much.
“Giselle, baby…” It was the calm tone of Zane calling out to me. Clearly, I had zoned out yet again. “The officer needs you to respond.”
“I’m sorry, officer. What did you say?”
“It’s okay. Is it okay if I have a seat?”
“Absolutely. My apologies for not offering sooner.”
After he was seated, I grabbed onto Zane’s hand for confirmed security.
“Can you explain to me what you saw?”
“I-I… umm… I don’t. I didn’t really see… wait. I mean, I saw a woman come from Trevor’s a short while… maybe a few minutes… ago…” I stalled to turn and look at Zane. I guess the reassurance I needed was in his eyes. He nodded and smiled. “A few minutes before I heard the shots, I was in the window looking outside. I was on the phone with Zane. I… uhh… I-I…
walked away. I mean, backed away a little because I didn’t want to be seen. I only had on my pajamas and they were kind of thin.”
“Okay, could you see the woman clearly?”
I nodded slowly, thinking back. “She was there for a while. I saw her going in when I got back from shopping. She wasn’t dressed. Wait. She wasn’t dressed all the way when she came out to get in her truck.”
“Wait. Car or truck, Miss McCall?”
I hesitated as I thought back through the clouds in my brain. “It was a truck. A newer model truck. Dark-blue SUV.”
“Okay. You said she was there for a while?”
“Yes. I got back from shopping and it was just starting to get a little dark. But the stun was still out… kinda. I saw her walking toward the door. I couldn’t see her clearly, but she was thin. She had long hair. When she left a little while ago, she had a few items of clothing in her hands. Or something. I don’t think she had on a shirt. I’m not sure. Her hair was long. Oh… I told you that already. Sorry.” I shrugged my shoulders and as my shoulders fell, so did more tears. “Do you think Trevor… is he going to make it?” I asked.
The officer looked up from his notepad, and shrugged. “It’s hard to say. He was shot four times.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “And I heard all four shots. I heard all four. Oh God,” I cried, burying my face in Zane’s chest.
“Can you think of anyone that might want to hurt Mr. Rossi? Is he married? Involved with anyone?”
“As far as I know, Trevor… he’s single. I believe he lives there alone. He dates… regularly. I mean, he’s a young guy. I don’t think he’s out of his 20’s. So, his card is pretty full. I don’t think it’s anything serious with anyone in particular.”
There was no way I was going to mention the rumors about Trevor and his extracurricular activities with the women in the neighborhood. In their processing of his home, they may or may not come across such information. But it certainly wasn’t going to be me that repeated it. Especially, not knowing whether it was factual.
Risqué 2 (Love in Sin City) Page 6
