“Darius, got a second?” Richard said as he popped his head in the office.
Darius waved for the man to come inside. “What’s going on?”
“That’s what I came to ask you. How did things turn out with Celina?”
Darius turned away from the window and looked at Richard. “Well, she’s in New York right now, so how do you think things went? I don’t know if she’s coming back or if she wants to come back.”
Richard nodded. “I’m sure she’s going to come back. She cares for you so much, Darius.”
Then why did she leave? he thought as he looked at Richard, trying to absorb what the man was saying. He shrugged his shoulders.
“Why didn’t you go to New York with her?” Richard asked.
“She didn’t ask me to accompany her.”
Richard rolled his eyes. “You know the problem with you young guys, no imagination. You should’ve hopped on the next plane and followed her. Women like stuff like that. It would prove to her that you are the man that’s right for her. Ever heard that old Quincy Jones song, ‘One Hundred Ways’? Take a hint from it, man.”
“What if she has someone else in New York and she’s going to end or reconcile things with him?” Darius said, voicing the fear that had been inside him since Celina said she was returning to New York. “How will I look just showing up?”
“He’s a sorry man if she does have one in New York. He let her deal with her father’s sickness all alone. Besides, if you don’t show up, imagine how that will look. Go to her.”
“Maybe her father has her address in New York. I could drive to Columbia and take the next flight to New York,” Darius said, knowing that Celina didn’t have someone else in the city. What was it about that place that made her want to go back to New York so badly?
“That sounds more like it. I’ll hold the fort down here,” Richard said as Darius picked up the phone to call Thomas Hart.
About an hour later, Darius was heading to Columbia with Celina’s address and telephone number tucked in his pocket. He called the airline and booked a flight to New York. The last-minute flight was going to cost him over one thousand dollars, but the price didn’t matter to him. He had to see Celina and make sure that she was going to return to him.
As Darius waited in line to board his flight, he wondered what he would find out about Celina once he got to New York. He’d been to the Big Apple several times but his visits never had as much meaning as this trip.
He moved through the security checkpoints without a lot of fanfare because, in his haste to leave, he hadn’t packed a bag. One of the first things he would have to do when the plane touched down was to head to Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s to get some clothes.
Finally, he made it onto the plane. Darius buckled his seat belt and waited for the plane to take off. It seemed to take forever and he wished the plane would move at warp speed like in the Star Trek movies. Darius leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. After what seemed like five hours, he heard the announcement telling the passengers that the plane would be landing at LaGuardia in five minutes. Sitting up, Darius couldn’t hold back the smile spreading across his lips because it wouldn’t be long before he held Celina in his arms and felt her lips against his. What if she had come back to New York to tie up loose ends with a man? Jealousy began to make his hair stand on end. Maybe her reservations about moving back to Elmore had something to do with her relationship with this New York man.
“Stop being paranoid,” Darius told himself as he stood up to walk off the plane. Soon, he was enveloped in the sea of passengers who were exiting the plane. His thoughts turned from Celina to protecting his wallet from a thieving passenger. After all, he was in New York. Darius dashed through the airport and headed to the curb to hail a cab.
“Where you headed, guy?” the Iranian driver asked as Darius climbed into the backseat.
“118th Street,” Darius said as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Celina’s number. Before he hit send, he asked the driver how long it would be before they reached their destination. Darius eased back in the seat and exhaled an exasperated breath. He didn’t want to call Celina until he was outside of her apartment. Placing his phone on the seat beside him he stared out the window at the congestion ahead of them. Darius had forgotten the last time he’d been stuck in a traffic jam. In Elmore, everything was less than five minutes from everything.
Though he didn’t want to, if Celina wanted to stay in New York, then we would move here to be with her.
“Hey,” the cabbie said, “it might be a little more than twenty minutes. Hope you’re not trying to make a reservation some where.”
Darius shook his head. “I’ll be fine. If you could let me know when we get close to my stop, I’d appreciate it.”
The driver grunted and traffic began to move at a snail’s pace. Darius felt like a child waiting for Christmas day as they crawled along in the near gridlocked traffic.
“How much farther?” Darius asked.
“We haven’t even moved a mile,” the cabbie said, his voice displaying his annoyance.
Darius leaned forward and handed the man a twenty dollar bill. “If you can find a way around all of this traffic and get me where I need to be, I’ll make it worth your while.”
The man took the money and smiled. “I know a great short cut. But you need to hold on to your seat.” He took a sharp turn down a side street and pressed hard on the gas. Darius bounced around the back seat before wising up and putting his seat belt on. The scenery whizzed by so quickly, Darius had no idea where he was. After what seemed like the longest taxi ride in history, the driver told Darius that they were near their destination.
He retrieved his phone, which was now underneath the seat, and dialed Celina’s number.
“Hello,” Celina said. Her voice was like a sweet jazz song.
“It’s me,” he said. “I was thinking about you.”
“Really?” Celina said. “Just what were you thinking?”
“How much I miss you, hearing your voice, touching your bushy hair.”
“Darius, I’ve only been gone a few hours. Not even a full day.”
“That’s a few hours too long,” Darius replied. He could feel Celina’s smile through the phone.
“How are you going to make it these next three days? If a few hours are this taxing on you, you’re not going to make it.”
“I’ll make it,” he said. “Or you could cut your trip short.”
“Hey, guy, here’s ya stop,” the cabbie said.
“Who was that?” Celina asked.
Darius ignored her question as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed the driver three twenty dollar bills for the ride.
“You know what I’ve always wondered,” he said as he closed the door to the cab. “Does your apartment face the street?”
Celina sounded confused as she told him her place faced 118th Street. “Why does that matter?” she asked.
“Look out the window,” he said.
“What?” Celina said. “You’re not making any sense right now.”
“Just humor me,” he said as he looked up at the brownstone, shielding his eyes from the sun. He saw a lace curtain move on the third floor.
“Darius, is that you down there?” she asked excitedly.
“It’s me.” The phone went dead and Darius looked at the small silver phone to see if his signal had dropped. A few seconds later, the front door to the building opened and Celina marched down the steps. She was looking like New York again, not the same woman who stood before him on the back steps of Thomas Hart’s house in Elmore. She was dressed in a black Prada minidress that was tailored to her exquisite frame, a pair of black stiletto boots that left a sliver of skin showing. Her afro was pulled up in a ponytail with a pair of designer sunglasses stuck on her head. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said as she rushed into his arms. Celina’s lips brushed across his neck.
Darius let her go and held her at arm’s
length so that he could look into her eyes. “I thought about stepping back and giving you time to do whatever you needed to do, but I know that you’ve been known to sabotage a relationship. Besides, I missed you.”
“And, you don’t play fair,” she said with a laugh.
Darius smiled. “That’s true. So, are you going to invite me up?”
“Of course,” she said as she grabbed his hand and led him up the steps as if she were excited to show him her place. Celina’s loft was everything he expected it to be. The walls were painted bright yellow, with green ivy stenciled on them. The colors reminded him of a bright summer day. Several prints of her work sat on the floor. The ceiling was painted powder blue like the sky. “Wow,” Darius said as he looked around the place.
Celina smiled. “I can’t believe you, Darius.”
“What?”
“You’re here.”
“That is a good thing, isn’t it?” he inquired. Celina nodded.
“It is.”
“I mean, if I’m crowding you, let me know, because I don’t want to scare you away.”
Celina kissed him on the cheek. “I don’t think I have a reason to be afraid.”
Progress, Darius thought as he fought to keep his expression unchanged.
“Are you hungry?” Celina asked as they walked into the kitchen. Darius followed her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Yes, but not for anything in your icebox.” Darius captured Celina’s lips with his, kissing her with an unbridled passion that made her head spin. He let her go. “But, I’m willing to wait for that. This dress means that you have somewhere to go, doesn’t it?”
Celina cleared her throat several times and rubbed the front of her head. “Um,” she said. “I was about to head into midtown and drop off some prints at the Barbara Mathes Gallery. Why don’t you come with me and we can make a day of it?”
“I’d love to,” Darius said, although, he really wanted a day of making love to his woman. The woman he wanted to love, cherish, and honor for the rest of his life. The thought of waking up to Celina every day made him smile. “All right, would you grab this for me?” Celina asked as she picked up the prints from beside the door and handed them to Darius.
“You’re taking a cab, right?” he asked as he placed the prints under his arm.
“Cabs are a luxury,” Celina said as she reached into the ivory and yellow jar sitting by the door on a wrought iron table and pulled out a Metro card. Darius shook his head, not looking forward to lugging Celina’s art collection through New York’s underground.
“I’ll get the cab and you can cook me a steak for dinner,” he said.
Celina giggled. “What, are you afraid of the subway?”
“No, just the hernia I’ll get from lugging your masterpieces,” he said.
Celina tapped him on the shoulder. “All right, Darius, we’ll take a taxi, but let P. Diddy take care of your steak.”
“Justin’s for dinner, huh? I’ll settle for that, as long as you provide the dessert,” he said as he headed out the front door.
“You’re so bad,” she said as she locked the door behind them. The couple walked about three blocks before a yellow cab passed them. Darius soaked up the city atmosphere, the hustle and bustle of the crowd, the mix of Spanish, hip-hop, and old soul music blaring from the various brownstones. Trucks, cars, and SUVs sped down the road as if they were rushing to a fire or the crash of the stock market. Celina seemed to flourish in the busyness of it all. He wondered how she could walk so comfortably in those killer shoes. Darius was sure this was why she always walked around barefoot at home. He watched her as she stuck her arm out to hail a cab. Her profile was big-city chic. How could he ask her to give this up for Elmore? She was in her element and nothing in Elmore could compare to New York.
“Celina,” Darius said as they got into a cab that finally stopped for them. “Are you sure you’re ready to give this up?”
She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe. Right now, I just want to be wherever you are.”
Darius touched her face. “You don’t know how that makes me feel to hear you say that,” he said as he kissed her lips gently.
The Jamaican taxi driver cleared his throat. “Where you two heading? Weddin’ chapel?”
Darius laughed.
“No,” Celina said. “Not right yet. East 57th Street.”
The driver put the pedal to the medal and headed for midtown. When Darius and Celina got to the gallery, he was surprised to see a banner heralding Celina’s exhibit.
“Wow, I didn’t know you had a showing here,” he said in awe.
“The gallery director heard a rumor that I’d left Paris and she made it her mission to get me here. It’s a short showing, just a few pieces for a few weeks. I told her I have to go back south, so she put this together really quickly. I didn’t know about it until I got off the plane.”
Darius nodded, thinking that he was asking Celina to give up a lot to be with him. When they walked into the gallery, a tall, wispy, blond woman dressed in the Manhattan uniform—all black—greeted them. She rushed toward Celina. “Oh my goodness, you look divine. Is that Prada? Did you pick this up in Paris?” Then she turned to Darius. “Wow, did you pick him up in Paris, too?”
Celina shook her head, looking as if she was about to die of embarrassment. Darius had forgotten how brash city women could be. Celina turned to Darius and smiled. Then she looked at the woman. “No, Millicent, this one is homegrown.”
“Really?” Millicent asked. “Maybe I need to take a trip down south. Are there any more like you at home?”
“No,” Darius said. “I’m one of a kind.”
“Pity,” Millicent replied. “So, Celina, get on with the introductions.”
“This is Darius McRae, my boyfriend.”
Millicent raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Celina Hart has a boyfriend.” She linked her arm around Celina’s and said in a loud whisper. “I see where the inspiration for these paintings comes from.”
Darius cleared his throat, “Are you ladies going to take these paintings or does my arm have to fall off?”
Millicent raised her arm and snapped her fingers. “Where is William? I swear these interns are getting lazier and lazier. Darius, dahling, will you just bring these paintings over here.” She led Celina and Darius to a dim area off the main floor. Darius leaned the paintings against the wall. “What do we have here?” Millicent said as she pulled the white cloth covering the paintings back. She eyed the paintings with wide-eyed wonderment. “I love them all, but this one.” She pointed to Celina’s latest work, H2Love. “This has got to go on the Web site. This will start people talking.”
“Yes, it will,” Darius commented, remembering the day Celina painted it. He stole a glance at her. She had a bright smile plastered on her face as if they shared the same thought.
“Well,” Millicent said as she looked from Darius to the painting. “You must be the model.”
“No, just the inspiration,” Celina said. “So, when does the show open?”
“Tomorrow night and I have so much to do,” Millicent said as she placed her hand to her forehead, reminding Darius of a drama queen. “But the buzz is there. Fresh from Paris, New York’s own Celina Hart. The Times is coming, as well as InStyle, and all of the TV stations. Word is you have a famous former president as a fan, so please don’t wear a blue dress.”
Darius and Celina broke out laughing. “I don’t have a blue dress,” Celina replied once she gained her composure.
Millicent looked at Darius. “You will be here, right? I’m sure you have an haute couture tuxedo for Celina’s big night.”
Millicent was starting to grate on Darius’s nerves. “Actually,” he said ironically. “I’m happy with what I’m wearing.”
She visibly blanched. “You can’t be serious. This is New York, the press, you’re Celina’s best accessory,” she said.
“Millicent,” Celina said. “Calm down. Darius
is more than an arm piece, okay? We’re going to go grab something to eat. I’ll be back later to check out the space. Thank you so much for this.”
Millicent nodded. Celina and Darius turned to walk out the door. Celina squeezed Darius’s arm once they got outside. “And you wonder why I want to give this all up,” she said.
He shook his head and kissed Celina on the cheek. “Miss Millie just doesn’t have any manners, now, does she?” Darius said as he held his arm up to hail a cab.
CHAPTER 18
Celina talked Darius into taking the subway to Justin’s and as soon as they got on the crowded subway, she wished they had taken a cab. She grabbed the only empty seat in the car and Darius stood above her.
“So,” he said as he held on to the bar above her seat. “Do I really need a tux?”
“Maybe a nice suit, but not a tux. Don’t pay Millie any attention. She thinks that anyone not from New York or not an artist has no sense of fashion. After lunch, we can go shopping, if you want to,” she said.
Darius grinned. “You don’t trust my judgment?”
Celina snorted. “Well,” she said stroking the fabric of his jeans. “Not in everything. And I didn’t see you with any bags when you appeared on my doorstep.”
“Are you trying to say I don’t have model quality?” he joked.
“Well, when you’re naked you do,” she said, then grew serious. “Guess who followed me to New York.”
“Don’t tell me it was Tiffany,” he said.
Celina nodded and replayed the scene on the flight.
“Did she follow you from the plane?” Darius asked.
“No,” Celina said. “I made sure she left before I did.”
Darius banged his hand against his thigh. “I told Wayman she was dangerous, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Celina shuddered, not wanting to believe that Tiffany would do something to hurt her or Darius. She placed her hand on Darius’s leg. “Your love does all of this to women?”
Just Can't Get Enough Page 17
