by S. Ann Cole
“I know the brand, Brenda. You can stop with the exaggeration,” I said in annoyance. “Just never understood at first what you meant.” I plodded back to the living area and slumped on the sofa.
Was I that inattentive to the world and wrapped up in my own problems that I didn’t recognize a known figure when I saw one? Or maybe he’s not that known. Maybe Brenda had mistaken him. A person that wealthy would never go sporting without guard, would they?
“Maybe you’ve mistaken him. I would have known this. He would have told me.” Only, he didn’t.
Brenda snorted. “I can spot a Nelson fifty paces away, sweetie.”
“So, why do you have all things ENEN?” I queried. “You have a crush on him or something?”
Brenda’s hazel eyes illuminated. “Not him. Every girl picks a brother. My friend Cara, she crushes on Natalio like crazy. I,” she breathed, closing her eyes and pressing her hands over her heart like a dazed twelve-year-old, “am hopelessly in love with his brother, Lovello Nelson. He’s the youngest, but the richest of them. And the hottest. The guy’s worth gazillions.”
My eyes rolled at her babbling. In the four years I’ve lived with Brenda, this was the longest conversation we’d ever had. She’d always maintained a ‘hi-bye’ relationship with me. I had no idea why. Hence my suppositions of her disdain for me. Brenda was from an affluent family; a lifestyle similar to Kelsy’s. Distinctly, however, Brenda was a focused, no-bullshit law student. She’s normally self-possessed and indifferent—or so she feigned. Because seeing Brenda this ebullient and starry-eyed, was novelty.
“So he didn’t tell you who he was?” she poked.
“No,” I answered shamefacedly. “He just said he ‘sells stuff’.”
Brenda laughed. “He sells stuff alright. And a whole bunch of expensive, hard-to-acquire gadgets.” She shook her head as if still not believing. “Where did you meet him?”
“Secre X,” I told her. Not caring if she knew or not.
Brenda twisted her face in revulsion.”Oh. I heard you were working there. That explains why he kept his identity a secret. Probably thinks you’re a gold-digger or something.”
And the old nose-upturning Brenda was back. That was the Brenda I knew, so I decided to ignore her snide remark.
“But ENEN’s HQ is in San Fran,” I thought out loud.
“That’s where they live silly. Business here I guess. It’s just an hour away in flight time, anyway.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “So you two aren’t dating?”
“No.”
“Didn’t look that way from my POV,” she scoffed.
“Well, we’re not. We’re just friends.” Though I’d really wanted much more than that.
You have to tell me what you want, Sadie. It’s the only way I’ll know. His words came back to me, swirling in my head. He wanted me to beg him to be with me. Keep waiting, Mr. Nelson.
Brenda gripped my hand tight. “Oh please, please date him. That way, you can take me along when you go to meet his family. I really want to meet Lovello. Though, I think I’ll swoon if I do,” she reeled like a teenager. “Natalio Nelson looks so damn hotter in person, it’s unbelievable. Pictures do him no justice. I can only imagine how drop-dead gorgeous Lovello would be.” Brenda sighed dramatically like a fairytale heroine from an animated film. Why was she so obsessed with someone who didn’t even know she existed?
I snatched my hand away from hers. “You’ll have to find some other way to meet your dear Lovello, because I’m not dating his brother.”
Wasn’t even sure I wanted to see him again, for that matter. He wanted me to trust him but he couldn’t even tell me who he bloody was? What else was he keeping from me? I knew nothing about him or ‘the Nelsons’. Up until twenty minutes ago, I’d never heard of them. Well, they aren’t celebrities so I could understand why I wouldn’t. I’d have to be a person who cared about the face behind an electronic brand to know. Or a law school, wealthy bachelor-seeking person like Brenda.
I, on the other hand, barely even notice the brands on stuff. If I like it, I buy it. That’s about as far as it goes for me. Well, vogue was different.
Brenda sighed again and I wanted scream. “I guess we know now who sent the money.”
Oh, I’d forgotten about that, the rent. Brenda had apprised me that when she came home on Tuesday, a tall, muscular, African-American man had accosted her outside and handed her a white envelope. Informing her it was for Miss Francé’s debts owed to her, with interest and rent covering the next six months. After recovering from my bafflements, I’d postulated that it was either Tevin or Kelsy’s doing. But they’d both denied it when I raged at them. Now I had no doubt it was the persistent Natalio who’d sent it. It hadn’t even occurred to me, the possibility that it was his doing.
“I know you more that you think, Sadie,” he’d said. Of course he did. He was wealthy enough to pay people to spy on me. And why he did all this was beyond me. What was his game? Why the secrets? How can a man of his status be so casual? Wasn’t he afraid of being snagged and ransomed? There were tons of questions I wanted to ask. But I didn’t think I wanted to speak to him again. It wouldn’t make sense, for he’d be perennially evasive.
Maybe Brenda was right. Maybe he thought if I knew who he was, I would’ve treated him differently—as laughable as that was. If he knew everything about me as he’d proclaimed, then he’d know that as long as my bills are paid, I didn’t give a shit about riches. Prosperous or impecunious, I treated both the same. I’d been around good money, bad money, honest money, stolen money and blood money. And I knew how destructive it all could be, in all things. I’ve never desired to be wealthy and I don’t ever want to be. Comfort was all I craved.
“I’m going to bed,” I told Brenda, raising my suddenly leadened body from the sofa.
“At 7pm?”
She wanted to sit and chat? Another first. “Yes. I have a headache.”
Brenda darted to my side as I made a beeline for my bedroom. “When is he coming to see you again?”
“We were supposed to have dinner on Saturday when he returns from Michigan,” I answered dully. “But I think I’m gonna cancel that.”
“Why?” she prompted, sticking by my side. I was half-expecting her to hook her arm through mine and start square dancing. I just couldn’t acclimatize to this new Brenda.
“Well, for one, he lied to me. He didn’t tell me who he was.” I tried not to sound choleric. “And…a host of other reasons.”
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it,” Brenda blurted. “Don’t overthink things. I’m sure he has a valid reason why. Maybe he wanted to get to know you first. Please, rethink.”
I patted her on the shoulder. “I won’t be thinking at all. Goodnight, Brenda.” I smiled sweetly before entering my bedroom and slamming the door behind me.
There would be no more of the Mr. Mysterious in Black.
Chapter Eight
A pounding headache hammered me from my sleep. It was still dark outside and I noticed it was only 10:05pm when I glanced at my bedside clock. I’d slept for only three hours, no wonder I had a headache—induced also by the booze and the new discovery.
Upon resolution not to occupy any part of my mind with Natalio, I’d switched off my cell phone, repeated my proverbs and went immediately to bed—with the intentions of sleeping till morning, not waking up three hours later.
Frustrated to the core, I flailed my arms and legs beneath the sheets. If I stayed awake, I’d start thinking about him. So I needed to go back to sleep. Now.
Rolling out of bed, I opened my nightstand drawer and retrieved a packet of Tylenol PM. This would help. I ambled to the kitchen and downed the pills with a glass of water, then back to bed.
Great, now I’d have to wait at least thirty minutes for these babies to kick in. My eyes were wide and sleepless and thoughts of Natalio were slowly creeping into my head. Had he reached his destination safely? Was he okay? Did he miss me?
N
o. No. No. No. I didn’t want to think about him.
Sighing, I reached for my Blackberry and switched it on. I had ten missed calls: two from Kelsy, eight from Natalio. Three text messages and one email, all from Natalio. Something moved in the depths of my stomach at the sight of Natalio’s name on my phone screen.
“Hey biatch, where you been?” Kelsy answered when I dialed her.
“I had a headache, so I turned in early. Switched off my cell. ‘Sup?”
“Nada. Tev and I wanted to chill with ya. We haven’t seen much of you since you’ve met that friend of yours,” she whined, the popping of a gum following promptly after. Kelsy was always chewing a gum.
“We went to a daylight yacht party. I think I drank too much.”
“Didn’t think to invite me? You know I love sailing!”
I coughed to clear my hoarse throat. “I’d spoken to Tev minutes before and he told me you were house shopping with your dad.”
“Oh, yeah. I hope we never find anything,” she said uninterestedly. “I’m gonna pretend to like all things overbudget and dislike anything within budget.”
The girl was crazy. “Living on your own isn’t the worst thing in the world, Kels. You’re twenty-three years old, for Christ’s sake. Wish I had a dad to buy me an apartment. Free of charge. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about rent or if my roommate hates me enough to plant rat poison in my cereal.”
“You haven’t answered me, ya know. I want you to live with me. I’ll be a heck of a lot more comfortable with idea if you do. You are so much more street smart and wiser than I am. Please say yes, Sadie.”
“I told you I’d think about it,” I muffled through a yawn.
“Girl, I’ve known you long enough to discern that when you say ‘I’ll think about it’ it normally means ‘no’.”
“You know me well, then.”
Kelsy popped another gum bubble. “So, have you screwed him yet?”
“Who?”
“That friend of yours that drives you off the wall like Anne Boleyn did Henry the Eight.”
“No, I haven’t. And I’ve changed my mind,” I said sharply, not wanting to talk about that…that…I don’t even know what the hell he is.
“Why? I thought you said he was hot.” She paused. “Oh no, is he gay?”
I giggled. At the mere fact that a few days ago I’d thought the same thing. “I’d thought so. But no, he’s not. He was here earlier and Brenda identified him as some electronics mogul.”
“What? Who is he?”
“The CEO of ENEN, apparently.”
“Whoa! Natalio Nelson?” she shrieked.
I sighed into the phone. “There we go again with the exclamations and hyper. I wouldn’t expect that reaction from someone like you who knows what dead icon is on each green bill.”
“It’s not the money. The Nelson brothers are smoking! Who wouldn’t want to date them? They’re young, impeccably hot—like walking lava, seriously—and obscenely rich. He didn’t tell you who he was?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I’ve asked myself that question over a hundred times. How do you know them?” I asked.
“Mom does business with one of the brothers. Trevillo Nelson. She and dad even had a big fallout and stayed in malice for over three weeks because Dad accused her of sleeping with Trevillo.” Kelsy sighed. “I think she’s guilty though. And I wouldn’t blame her, the guy’s freaking gorgeous. If I was her age and that hot young guy hit on me, I’d bone him, too. Trevillo’s known for having a thing for older, kinky women. And my mom’s Queen Kink.”
A burst of laughter escaped from me. “How do you know that?”
“I snoop around when Mom and Dad aren’t home. Girl, you should see some of their play apparatuses. It’s beyond me how those things could be incorporated into sex.”
My laughter kept bubbling. The sight of Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell being kinky—I couldn’t picture it. Trust Kelsy to make me laugh.
“I still can’t believe you’re dating Natalio Nelson, though. Go figure.”
“We are—were just friends,” I corrected. “What do you know about him?”
“Except that he’s nefariously sexy and worth billions? Not much.” Kelsy paused again and I could hear the popping of another gum bubble. “The Nelsons are a very private family. We can only go by gossip. Their father’s a puissant magnate who brooks no nonsense with his boys and ensures to keep them in check. I hear that as soon as each one hits age eighteen, he sits them down and asks them what kind of business they want. Once their ideas were rational, it was set.”
I responded with ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ as Kelsy spoke.
“Trevillo Nelson, as I’ve told you before, he digs older chicks for whatever reason. Weird. He’s the oldest at thirty and dominates the real estate field. He’s the one I like,” she mumbled the latter. “Lovello Nelson, he’s a cocky ass, womanizing whorebag that bangs all his female employees and associates. Though the youngest at twenty-seven, he’s richest of the three as an internet billionaire and a complete genius.”
“Oh my god,” I gasped through a giggle.
“And Natalio Nelson,” she continued, “he’s that enigmatic, bad-boy type, always in black, lava guy at twenty-nine. Rumors have circulated that he’s been affiliated with gangs and such, but there’s never been any proof to that.”
“Enigmatic, clad in black, those two are correct. The bad-boy part I don’t know about,” I muttered.
“Well, when you’re prosperous it elicits some of the most ridiculous rumors. So I’m not sure if none of what I’ve just told you is even accurate,” Kelsy laughed. “If you haven’t heard of them before or kept abreast of them like the affluent women who stalks eligible bachelors, then you might not recognize a Nelson when you see one. So don’t feel bad about anything. Who knows, he was probably glad you didn’t know who he was so he could have a normal conversation with you. Maybe that’s why he likes hanging out with you.”
“Stop finding excuses for him, Kels. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side,” she redeemed. “But it would be cool if you guys dated. I’d love to hear if he’s good in bed. Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like having his dark head between your legs—”
“Not gonna happen. Where’s Tev?” I sliced, trying to change the subject.
Kelsy yawned. “Out getting burgers at Wendy’s. I’ve been craving it all day and I just couldn’t sleep until I got it.”
“Kels, I do hope you’re not pregnant!”
“No, I’m not. What on earth would I do with a baby when I’m afraid to even live on my own?”
“Right,” I said, appeased. “I’m going back to bed. Love you. Bye.”
Flipping my Blackberry over in my hand repeatedly, I contemplated whether I should read Natalio’s messages or just delete them. Curiosity won over, eventually, and I blew a shaky breath while I opened the first message:
It’s doleful to know that the only friend I have doesn’t seem to care about me.
How was your flight, Natalio? Have you landed safely? Did the hostess exhibit ample cleavage?
It would have been good to receive any of the above concerns from you. That way, I’d know you care.
Some friend you are, huh?
Well, Miss Francé, albeit you didn’t inquire, I’ll still keep you abreast: I’ve landed safely. And…
I can’t stop thinking about you. (Is that allowed?)
With a painful pinch that instantly reddened my skin, I berated myself when I caught myself smiling at the text. The subsequent message was sent fifteen minutes after the first:
I’ve arrived at my temporary abode.
I miss your voice.
Please, call or text me back.
The next was an hour after the second.
Your Blackberry was seated on the car charger all day today, so I’m positive your battery isn’t dead.
You’ve switched off your cell phone.
Why?
I’ve taken on a feeling of apprehension.
CALL ME.
His email came in thirty minutes ago.
Sadie,
I think I know what you are sulking about.
Your roommate, she recognized me didn’t she?
Please, don’t overthink things. Women tend to do that.
But then, you’re not like other women. That’s why I like you.
Please bear in mind that I never lied to you.
I just didn’t answer your questions with pellucidity.
That’s not lying.
Your roommate’s earlier reaction portended this.
I feared it.
You agreed not to get mad at me or ignore me.
And I agreed to be truthful to your queries. At least, I’ll try.
Just don’t eschew me. Please.
Natalio Nelson.
With a scoff followed by an eye roll, I attempted to power off my Blackberry when it buzzed with a new text message.
I can’t fall asleep.
I don’t think I will be able to, not until I hear from you.
Help me?
