Still squeezing his hand like he was trying to crush his bones, Cobi said firmly, “Is that all?”
“That’s all.”
After a second, Cobi released Blac’s hand. “Then how did you know?”
“Really?” Blac said. “You don’t think people see, but we can see you.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“We. You, me—us,” Blac said, talking softly out the side of his mouth, watching as Eric made his way toward the table. “If I was wrong, I’m sorry. You can just delete my number.”
Cobi was silent.
Eric was fifteen feet away, then ten, and at five feet away, Cobi said, “No. You weren’t wrong.”
56
I smiled as I walked down Rush Street.
I loved this street, with its bars and restaurants and the fun-loving people who partied here. It was close to the feeling I got when I walked through Times Square in New York, my favorite place in the world.
I stopped in front of a bar, looked through the window, and saw people laughing, drinking, and having a good time.
But I felt lonely at the moment and knew that was why I even flirted with Blac. I’d been pretending for so long not to be who I know I am, and instead, listened to Tyler, kept things a secret, and only saw him when he allowed.
It wasn’t fair, I told myself. I had fallen in love with him but couldn’t outwardly express it.
Couples walked past me on the sidewalk, enjoying the beautiful night. I envied them from my perch on the corner.
I snatched my cell phone out and punched in Tyler’s number.
The phone rang four times, and I knew on the fifth it would be retrieved by his voicemail.
I stood there, angrily pressing the phone to my face, and listened to Tyler’s recording telling me to leave a message. I thought of the evil things I could tell him, but when I heard the beep, I stabbed the End button.
I turned and aimlessly started walking slowly. The phone felt as though it was tingling in my hand.
I stopped at the next corner to wait for the Walk signal. A picture of Blac popped in my head. He thought he was too sexy for his damn shirt prancing around in that skintight deal, but he did look good.
I thought of giving him a call, but what would I do if he picked up? Most likely nothing. Say hi. But that could lead to something else, which could lead to still something more, which could then lead to what I wanted to be doing with Tyler tonight but was unable to.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket, then turned completely around, because I had gotten the haunting feeling that I was being watched. I turned in a slow circle, scanning the area, as if expecting to find some weirdo, staring right at me, but no one was paying me any mind.
57
After his shower, Eric brushed his teeth, ran his brush over his buzzed hair, and then toweled off. He wrapped the white bath towel low around his waist, grabbed his toiletry bag, and gathered his clothes before opening the bathroom door.
Remembering he forgot his toothbrush on the edge of the sink, he went back to grab it. His hands were full, and he felt the knot in his towel slowly loosen. Eric managed to grab the toothbrush with one finger without losing his towel or any of what was in his arms.
When he turned around to exit the bathroom, a beautiful woman wearing nothing but a long T-shirt and white ankle socks was standing in the doorway.
Startled, Eric dropped the toiletry bag. As he tried to catch it before it hit the floor, he dropped his clothes, then the toothbrush, then the towel, leaving him completely naked.
Eric’s eyes ballooned. He heard the woman gasp as he quickly bent down, snatched up the wet towel, and struggled to wrap it back around his waist.
When he looked back up, the woman was gone.
Either his mind was playing tricks on him, or Cobi wasn’t as gay as he said he was.
Eric stepped out, only to see the woman leaning up against the wall, blushing, just outside the bathroom.
“I’m really sorry about that, Cobi,” the woman said. “I didn’t know you were in there.”
“I’m not Cobi.”
The woman smiled oddly, as if waiting for the punch line of the joke. When it didn’t come, she said, “What are you talking about?”
“I’m not Cobi. I’m his twin brother, Eric,” he said, trying to keep his focus on her eyes. He could see the roundness of her ample breasts, the shadow of her nipples, and her legs, which were smooth and shiny. The last thing he needed was to pop a rod wearing nothing but a bath towel in front of this woman.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I didn’t know he had a twin. Cobi didn’t tell me.”
“Well, he does,” Eric said, definitely feeling himself coming to life down there. “I’m gonna go to my room now. Good night, okay?” Eric said. He wanted more information, wanted to speak to the woman more, but he didn’t want to be accused of trying to come on to his brother’s girlfriend, or piece of ass for the night, or whatever she was.
“Okay,” the woman said. “Well, my name is Austen. Yours?”
“I already told you. Eric. My name is Eric,” he said, smiling.
“Well, it’s good to meet you, Eric,” Austen said, holding out her hand to shake.
Eric looked down at it. If he tried to shake it, there would be a replay of what just happened in the bathroom. He smiled bashfully. “Uh, don’t think I can do that without flashing you again.”
“And who says that would be a bad thing?” Austen said, smiling slyly. “Good night, Eric.”
58
As Austen sat down in the kitchen preparing to have breakfast that Stella made for her, she wondered if her encounter last night had been a dream.
It hadn’t felt like it. She believed she had actually been standing in that bathroom when that man’s towel fell, exposing that beautiful body, those tight pecs, those chiseled abs, and his long, thick manhood. No, that wasn’t a dream, nor was the conversation afterward. Neither was the gigantic orgasm Austen gave herself, later in bed, while thinking about the mysterious twin brother named Eric.
Austen slept like a baby sucking on a bottle, although, during her fantasizing last night, she imagined herself sucking on something else.
This morning, she awoke to a soft knock on her door.
When Austen answered it, Stella, the kindly older woman, asked her if there was anything she needed. And if she would like to come downstairs, either before or after she showered, Stella would be more than delighted to make her whatever she wanted for breakfast.
More than once, the thought had crossed Austen’s mind to ask Stella if she knew Cobi had a twin brother, but she didn’t want to seem crazy. So instead, she bit into a succulent strawberry and let her mind drift back to the image of Eric she had burned in her brain.
“Good morning, Mr. Winslow,” Austen heard Stella say.
Austen snapped out of her thoughts to see Cobi walking into the kitchen, wearing a gray business suit.
“Good morning, Stella,” he said.
“What would you like for breakfast?”
“Nothing for me, thank you,” Cobi said, resting his hands on the chair back adjacent to Austen’s. “But if you wouldn’t mind, would you excuse us for just a moment please, Stella?”
“Of course,” Stella said, wiping her hands on a towel and pulling the double doors closed behind her.
Cobi smiled at Austen. “First, let me apologize for not being here to welcome you on your first night here in my home.”
“No problem. Sissy took me on a tour yesterday and introduced me to Stella and some of the other staff. Everyone has been wonderful. And something told me I’d be bumping into you sooner or later—today, tomorrow, or maybe on our wedding day.” Austen laughed, trying to bring levity to the awkward moment.
Cobi joined her with an uncomfortable smile. “So everything is to your satisfaction, then?”
“No complaints.”
“Okay. Good, then I guess I’ll be heading—”
“But I do have a question or
two.”
“Okay,” Cobi said.
“What am I supposed to be doing here? I mean, like during the day?”
“You own a real estate business, right?”
“Yes, but my office is in Hyde Park. I don’t have a car.”
“Then I’ll have Sissy arrange for you to buy one. Then you can come and go to your office as you please, or do whatever else you’d like.”
“So that’s what this mainly is? Me doing whatever it is I want to do? Are there any obligations, any demands that must be met that I should know about?”
Cobi smiled. “I thought Sissy went over what was expected of you the other day when she—”
“She did. But what do you expect of me?”
Cobi paused, appearing clueless. “What I expect is just for you to do what Sissy expects.”
“Okay, I can do that,” Austen said, taking a bite of melon and crunching it between her teeth.
Cobi turned to leave.
“Oh, and one more thing. Do you have two names?”
“I don’t understand,” Cobi said, turning back to Austen.
“Is your middle name Eric, or are there two of you? The reason I ask is because I ran into someone in the hallway last night who looked just like you, and I almost had a heart attack when he said he wasn’t.”
“Yes,” Cobi said. “Sorry, I hadn’t gotten around to telling you about him. I have a twin brother and his name is Eric. He just moved in a few days before you.”
Austen smiled. “Oh. You should introduce us. He looks like a nice guy.”
59
Blac reached for his ringing cell phone. He was half asleep, in nothing but white boxer shorts, the bed blankets falling off of him.
He squinted at the screen before he answered it. Private Number.
“Hello?”
There was a moment of silence before a deep, menacing voice said, “Eight days and counting, motherfucker.”
The call was disconnected, but Blac remembered the voice as Rondo’s, one of the two men that came by the house the other night. He dropped the phone to the floor, recognizing the scare tactic. It wasn’t necessary. There was enough fear in him already. A phone call or two would give him no more motivation than he already had to get that money.
Last night Blac had made progress—a major breakthrough. He was happy about that. So happy that he walked in the door, stripped off his clothes, and made Theresa come like seven times. She was twitching in bed, stuttering like she had Tourette syndrome.
When he got the chance, Blac planned to throw the sex on Cobi the exact same way. After a few rounds of Blac’s skillful sex acrobatics, Blac thought, climbing out of bed, slipping on his jeans, and walking out of the small bedroom, Cobi would be whipping out his checkbook and forcing him to take money.
Blac walked through the living room, pulled open the front door of Theresa’s house, stepped out on the porch that was nothing more than a slab of cement, and stretched his arms over his head. The sun was out and there was not a cloud in the sky.
He smiled, thinking about how well things went last night, but he knew he could not rest. Eight days would blow by before he knew it.
Blac pulled the cell phone from his jeans pocket and pulled up his text screen.
HAD A GREAT TIME. THOUGHT ABOUT YOU IN MY DREAMS. LET’S HAVE A DRINK SOMETIME.
Blac sent the text to Cobi but didn’t expect a reply right away. He knew Cobi was probably having mixed feelings about the entire situation, considering Blac was his brother’s friend, but when he got the text, Blac was sure he would be excited all the same.
Blac slid the phone back into his pocket, then caught sight of the mail sticking out of the small, rusty box hanging from the side of the house.
He grabbed the envelopes, stepped back in the house, and closed the door behind him.
He saw that the address on one of the letters was handwritten, as if by a child.
He looked closer and saw that the return address was from Wisconsin.
Blac carefully tore the letter open. He pulled out the single page and immediately saw that it was written by his nephew.
A wide smile on his face, Blac read the carefully penciled words, some of which had been erased and rewritten.
His nephew told Blac that he missed him and loved him, and whenever he got out of jail, he wanted Blac to visit.
Neither his nephew nor his sister knew when his release date was. Blac had refused to give them his address in prison, telling them to send his mail to Theresa. He knew hearing from them would only make his time harder to do.
At the end of the page, a note was written by Blac’s sister. She told him how wonderfully well Johnny was doing in school and that he was on the baseball team. Wanda urged Blac to come to Wisconsin. She had plenty of space in her house, and they would love to have him there to stay.
Blac noticed the envelope contained a picture of his sister and his nephew. They stood arm in arm, both smiling brightly, waving at the camera.
Blac flipped the picture to see handwritten on the back, “We love you! Come home soon!”
He couldn’t stop smiling as he walked the letter and the photo over to the fridge, placed them on the door, and held them there with a magnet shaped like a smiling slice of bread.
60
I sat at my desk, looking at the letter Eric gave me—the letter that informed him of Jess’s intentions to have him stripped of his fatherly rights. I shook my head in disgust as I read the phone number of the law office that was representing her, wondering how she could go through with this.
I held the phone to my ear as it rang, remembering from the picture how adorable my niece was. I knew losing her would just about kill Eric.
“Hello,” I said, after someone on the other end answered the phone. “May I speak to . . .” I looked down at the letter again. “. . . Kenneth Holden.”
The woman on the other end told me that he was out for the afternoon.
I told her who I was, what I was calling about, and that it was imperative that Mr. Holden call me back as soon as possible.
I hung up the phone, feeling helpless, wishing there was something more that I could do. Then I realized there was. I told Eric I was going to get him a job at Winslow, and that’s exactly what I planned to do.
It would have to be without Sissy knowing, but I thought I could pull it off.
Paul Jennings immediately came to mind. He managed the records office and was a good guy. I had known him for three years, happily said hello to him whenever I saw him in the halls. Most important, he worked five floors below Sissy, and I trusted him to keep a secret.
I reached for the phone, preparing to call him, when it rang.
I picked it up. “Yes, Nancy?” I said to my assistant.
“Your sister is on line one, Mr. Winslow.”
“Fine. Put her through.”
“Morning, Cobi,” Sissy said, her voice cheery.
“Sis,” I said, not feeling anything close to how good she sounded.
“Just calling to see how things went the first night with your future wife?”
“That needs to be the second topic of conversation. There’s something more important that needs to be addressed, Sissy.”
“Okay, what is it?” Sissy asked, somewhat reluctant.
“You had a conversation with Eric yesterday. What did you say to him?”
“What needed to be said.”
“Sissy, don’t play with me. I’m not in the mood. Just answer the question, please.”
“He has to know that we’re not just going to sit around here and watch as he takes advantage of you. You’re spending money on him, giving him a place to live, and he’s walking around thinking he’s entitled.”
“Sissy.”
“I don’t care what kind of thug he fancies himself to be.”
“Sissy,” I said again.
“He needs to know I’m watching him, and the first wrong moves he makes, I’m putting his ass—”
&nb
sp; “Sissy!” I yelled into the phone. “First, how dare you. You’re nothing but a hypocrite. How much money are you planning on spending on Austen? She’s going to need a car, the dress you’re going to buy, the ring, not to mention the wedding. What happens if she annuls the marriage the day after? Who would’ve been taken advantage of then?”
“She won’t do that.”
“You know that for sure?”
“I know women, and I know what position she’s in. That’s why I chose her. She won’t do that. Now you were saying—”
“Second,” I said, “Eric is my brother, and that’s my house. I don’t need you laying down the law there. Do you understand me?”
“But Cobi—”
“Do you understand, Sissy?”
“Yup. Fine.”
“Good. Now we can move on to topic number two. And the answer is, that woman being in my house doesn’t feel right.”
“Really,” Sissy said. “Exactly how are you expecting it to feel? It’s going to be awkward at first. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to make even more serious moves fast. The public needs to know about you. You have to be seen as a couple. So I need the two of you in my office within the next couple of days so we can go over plans on how to proceed from now until the wedding.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Cobi, did you hear me?”
“Yeah, Sissy. We’ll be there.”
I hung up the phone, truly feeling this was out of my hands.
I felt my cell phone vibrate in my jacket pocket. I fished it out to see that I had a text message.
It was from Eric’s friend, Blac. Against my will, I felt a smile appear as I read the text.
He thought about me in his dreams, huh? That was a line, mad cheesy game if I ever saw it, but it was still nice to know. Considering Tyler’s neglect, this was much appreciated.
I moved to respond, thinking that maybe a harmless drink would be nice, then stopped myself. I needed to give that move some thought before I did anything. So instead, I picked up my office phone and made the call to Paul Jennings about getting Eric that job.
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