Cross Your Heart (An Emerson Novel Book 2)

by K L Finalley

  UpBeat Magazine was a regional magazine that was a subsidiary of a national entertainment conglomerate that owned other magazines as well as radio, television, and online channels. It was the door that led her into the mansion where she knew she belonged. One of the perks of being part of the UpBeat family was that she had invitations to fashion shows, gala events, concerts, and festivals all around the state. At Miami Fashion Week, she had smiled and cajoled her way into the front row of center stage. She had met world famous designers and runway models. Then, after a week of partying in posh South Beach destinations, she returned home to write. As she pranced through the UpBeat doors, with sunglasses wedged in her waves made from her loosened locks, no one asked about the Art Deco district. No one made mention that she had worn an authentic Cesar to work. She did not have the opportunity to tell people that the Latin American designer had lent her the piece. Or that it was not worn in the show, because of poor planning; or, that she had thought of keeping it outright. Instead, she passed through the brightly colored open space, searching for a place to write. Without assigned offices or spaces, employees had freedom to create in vacuum or community. UpBeat welcomed friends, not employees, to explore the creative style that worked best for them. They had not known that a chair, a desk, and a space to share with a co-worker is what Alex needed most.

  Balancing her weight atop a large rubber ball while wearing Cesar's thin, silk pink and white dress that was created to wear from the office to a cocktail party proved difficult. She slid about the ball in the most unfeminine way. Scooting about, she wrestled to maintain balance. While her mother always told her that a woman should keep her ankles always crossed, Alex was having a difficult time keeping her thighs together. After some time, she mastered some balance. Sitting upright with her legs slightly apart, she bore her weight through her torso to her pink shoes. Made to be elegant with thin gold-tipped heels, she had pressed firmly on the soles of the shoes. The heel tips anchored into the tile. Confident that she had mastered the ball, she nodded at her accomplishment and reached down to remove her laptop from its bag. Once on her lap, she powered it on and began to type. After a few words, her mind had focused upon the art of writing. Her body went lax as her faculties concentrated on who she saw and what was worn. She was clicking her teeth and trying to determine if the Madeline Amaro piece with the small golden bow in the center of the bust was more flamingo or taffy colored when things fell apart. The laptop started to slide off her charmeuse dress. Tilting to reach for it, her feet released their lock on the tile and she skidded off the ball. The laptop thudded on the tile. Her body splayed across the floor. Quietly and quickly, she propelled herself upright. Her arm was pounding, but she didn't dare rub it. Immediately, she glanced from side to side. She thought no one had seen her fall, but they had. Of course, they had. The sound resonated over their Bluetooth headphones. They just didn't come to her aid.

  Standing, she looked for a chair. A real chair. A chair with a seat and legs. To her far left, she saw one - it was wooden with sturdy metal legs. But, there was no table. No desk space upon which she could write, but she decided that she would forgo a rough draft of the article in pencil for a seat. Gathering what few belongings that had toppled out of her purse after her spill, she kicked the ball and headed for the chair. Walking amongst other co-friends who sat cross-legged on the floor or who laid upon their stomachs with laptops in their faces, she tiptoed careful not to step on anyone. As she exited the open space, her stride became more confident as she heard the click of her heels on the tile floor. Careful not to be turned away, she asked the man who sat next to the open chair, "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

  He did not answer immediately. He typed frantically.

  After a few seconds, she thought that he may not have heard her. So, she repeated, "I'm sorry. Is anyone sitting here?"

  This time, he moved his gaze away from his machine. His hands stopped typing and squinted at the sight of her as if he had looked into the sun. She saw his look of confusion, but her own anger built as he failed to answer. The man to his right answered on his behalf, "Please sit down. You don't have to ask. If the seat is empty, just sit."

  "Thank you. I just didn't want to sit down if he was saving it for someone."

  The stranger laughed. "No. He's definitely not saving it for anyone." Alex cocked her head to the side and wondered if she had missed something. The man had seemed normal enough. He was wearing vintage high-top basketball shoes, torn jeans, and a sweatshirt. His head was covered in large brown ringlets that Alex thought could be nicely maintained by the use of some hair product. Noticing how long Alex stared at the silent man, the stranger spoke to her again. "His name is Langston. He's in charge of the Gaming division. He's playing the BETA version of a persistent multi-player universe. Don't be offended, but he's not gonna pay you any attention."

  "Oh." She said and bent forward. Looking into Langston's face and smiled to see if he would make eye contact. He glanced over the top of his laptop at her, but quickly he returned to his game. "Well, it was worth a try."

  The stranger laughed, "If it makes you feel any better, that's more than most people get. By the way, I'm Clark."

  "Hi, Clark. I'm Alex."

  "Hi, Alex. New 'round here?"

  "Kinda, it's been a coupla months now, but it still feels.... a little foreign."

  He looked around the non-conventional room and said, "Yeah, I bet it could. It's definitely not for everyone. If people come to UpBeat too late in their career, I think it's hard for them to transition into such an alternative work environment." Alex didn't respond. She was too busy sizing him up. Even seated, she noticed how tall he was. Her mind gauged that he was at least six foot four. He sunk into the black vinyl chair and crossed his corduroy covered legs to make a desk for his laptop. Shaking his size twelve plain toe oxford, she saw a glimpse of his brightly colored socks. He noticed, "The socks?"

  "I've gotta see these for myself." She placed her bag in the chair next to Langston and walked in front of him. "May I?" she said. Clark nodded. Careful, not to expose herself, she slid her hand along the backside of her dress as she sat on the edge of the glass table next to him. Alex ran her hand under his pants leg to expose his socks. She felt him shudder. "Relax. I don't think you have anything unexpected down here, do you?"

  "You never know."

  "Well, if you did, it would be an even better surprise than these multi-colored paisley socks." And, as abruptly as she walked over, she stood and returned to her chair.

  "You're a very interesting woman, Alex. Very....interesting."

  "I was. I once was more than you could have ever imagined."

  "I'm certain this is very true, but this new version is interesting as well." He ran his hand over the sock where her hand had been, then he stood up. Adjusting his pants and retucking his shirt, he looked down at Alex. "I hope to be further intrigued by you, Alex." Alex looked up at him and smiled. As she did, he turned and walked away.

  Alex was replaying the interaction in her head, so she only faintly heard Langston say, "Clark Matthus, Vice President of Media Operations."

  Alex smiled and sat back in her chair. "Thanks, Langston." She thought, UpBeat isn't gonna be so bad after all. With new energy and new focus, Alex removed her laptop from its bag. As it was powering up, she retrieved her phone that had been sitting in her bag violently vibrating. The text messages and pictures began to appear. Smiling, she placed the phone on the arm of the chair and checked her face.

  In another whisper, Langston confirmed, "Project meetings last about an hour."

  "Good to know, bestie." and closed the compact.

  Langston smiled as he typed voraciously.

  Before she could begin typing her article, the texts and pictures were available. There was an avalanche of compliments and pictures. The messages included the usual teasers like, Hello Gorgeous and I can't wait to be near you, again and Is it almost time. The pictures were unlike the things that Elet sent. There was
a picture of the chest of a man she hadn't seen in years. His rippled muscles and dark skin made her feel flush. The next photo was of his arms. Hairless and glistening in the Florida sun, she remembered how it felt to be wrapped within them. The final picture was his face. By the time she saw it, she was brimming with excitement. Despite the years that had passed, his dark skin and a strong jawline reminded her that he was a very attractive man. His teeth gleamed in the cellphone picture as she thought of his name, Cooper. The two hadn't seen or spoken to each other in years. In fact, she had blocked him from her mind. But, now, he was back in town.

  ~~~~~~~~

  When her cellphone rang last week, she thought it was Elet. It was midday on a Tuesday. In her mind, only one person would call her, so she answered without hesitation. "Hello, baby."

  "Well, hello, baby."

  Instantly, she knew that the baritone who had answered was not her fiancé. Since summer, she had pledged herself to complete fidelity. She hadn't entertained the flirtations of the opposite sex. She hadn't had any inappropriate conversations or rendezvous. To guarantee that she would not be swayed, she had changed her phone number. So, the confidence of this stranger to react in such a way unnerved her. Finally, she responded as any upstanding semi-outraged woman would, "Excuse me?"

  "Well, you said it to me first. I thought it would be wrong to leave you hangin'."

  "Um hmm. Who is this?"

  "That hurts. After all the years, we've known each other I can't..."

  "You have just a few seconds to tell me who you are before I hang up and block your number."

  "Okay. Okay. Alex, it's me. It's Cooper." She relaxed her guard. She was shocked, but she didn't say anything in response. "Oh, baby, have you missed me?" She thought about the question. She wasn't sure if she had or she hadn't, but she had forgotten how much she enjoyed the sound of his voice. The certainty of his speech. The correct choice of words that danced along the lines of decency. "Well, I guess the cat's got your tongue. You know, I've been dreamin' of you for a while now. I wondered if the past was far enough behind us that we could talk like the fine adults we've become. How long has it been?"

  "Six years."

  "Ah, you do speak. Six years. Hmm, so much has happened in my life in the last six years. I'd love to get together with you and catch up."

  "Aren't you in Atlanta?"

  He howled, "Look who is keeping up with who. Have ya checked me out online? You stalkin' me?"

  "No, no, I'm not. I believe those are some of the last words you said to me. I think it went something like 'Baby, I need to go to ATL and get my head right. I need ya to understand.'"

  "And, that's one of the biggest regrets of my life. I shoulda stayed and gotten things right with the only woman that I've eva really loved." Her guard collapsed. Her shoulders went limp. Suddenly, she felt a chill. He continued, "We've been through so much togetha. I can't believe I just let you slip away as many times as I have. But, I want ya to know I'm back for ya."

  Dizzy with emotions, she uttered, "Where are you?"

  "Thought you'd never ask. Heading to my mama's house."

  "In Brandon?"

  "Yes. You remember the house, don't you? Big ole white house on the corner. The one with the waist-high hedges that you used to hide behind until I'd come outside."

  Her mind went back to that corner. It was down the street from her parents’ house. Three blocks south to be exact. It was a huge white house with white metal awnings. She stared at it as a kid and wondered why there were no other colors. She never approached it from head on. She walked all the way around the neighborhood to approach it from the side. She would crouch day or night beside the hedges near the stop sign and wait for him. Sometimes, he would come quickly; but, other times, she would wait for hours for him. "Yea, I remember," embarrassed that she did.

  "Of course, you do. When I got there yesterday, I checked to make sure that you were sitting by that hedge." He snickered. "Of course, you weren't. I was planning to go to your parent's house today and ask how to get in touch with you..."

  "Don't do that!"

  "Lemme finish. I didn't have to. I went to Byron's place to get a tape up. While I sat there waitin' my turn and talkin' to my boys, I thumbed through a magazine. UpBeat. I think it's called. Have you heard of it?"

  She smiled. "I've seen a few copies."

  "Yeah, well, it seems they have a columnist that I used to.... know," he amused himself with his own wittiness. "So, I gave them a call and they transferred me to this number. And, just like that," he snapped his fingers so loud that she could hear them through the phone. "I'm back."

  "You're back? For good?"

  "Who knows? I'm back on business, but I'm open to the idea of stayin' around. Sky's the limit for us."

  Her heart beat his name. Coo-per. Coo-per. Coo-per. "I don't know what to say. It's been such a long time and..."

  "All I want you to say is that you'll have dinner with me. Or lunch. Or breakfast. Just something. All I want is to see ya. Smell ya. Be close to ya."

  "Cooper, I'm going out of town for business tomorrow. I won't be back until the weekend."

  "Baby doll, I'll be here waiting."

  And, she melted. She had forgotten how she loved being called baby doll. "Maybe, we can get together on Monday. Will you still be in town? Will Monday work for your schedule?"

  "I'll make it work. I haven't waited six years just to not wait five days. Lemme give you my number in case you want to call or text me while you're out of town."

  As she wrote down his number, she gave no thought to this being in violation of her commitment to fidelity. In fact, she thought of Elet. She thought of how funny it would be to have them side by side. The man she always thought she wanted and the man she was planning to marry. "Okay. Got it."

  "Good. Call or text me anytime. I'll be around." Then, he was gone. She hadn't said goodbye. She never got to say goodbye. As usual, he danced away from her and left her feeling as though she should have said more than she did.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Today was Monday and it was time to go see Cooper. While she was in Miami, she sent a few texts to which he responded immediately. She had been playfully reminiscing and enjoying his attention. She hadn't told anyone that she was speaking with him. She had wanted to, but considering all that happened over the summer, she wasn't sure that anyone would understand. Cooper wasn't some stranger that meant nothing to her. Cooper was her first love. And, as she sat next to Langston, she mumbled, "Maybe, Cooper's the love of my life." She wanted desperately to talk to someone about whether or not that was true. She wanted Langston to turn and let her tell him the condensed version of the thirteen years that she and Cooper had known each other. Instead, Langston turned his head and furrowed his brow at her. She assumed that the look meant that he was annoyed by her sudden comments. In truth, that was his retort.

  When her face was ready, she stood up and said, "How do I look?" Langston said nothing, but he flattened his already thin lips and nodded with approval. "Oh, Langston, you say the nicest things. I'm gonna go get some lunch. Do you want me to bring you something?"

  He groaned, "Food."

  "Anything likes, dislikes, allergies." There was no reply. "Okay, I'll bring back whatever screams Langston." She gathered her things and walked towards the front of the building. With her laptop in the bag on her shoulder and her purse in hand, she flounced past younger women in tighter pants and higher heels. Before she deflated completely, her phone rang. Thinking it was Cooper confirming that he was outside waiting on her, she said, "Hey, you!"

  "This isn't Elet."

  "Oh, hey, Olive. What's up?"

  "You got a sec?"

  "Just a few. I'm heading out for a lunch date."

  "Aww, that's sweet. Still having lunch dates with your fiancé."

  "No, a work lunch date."

  "Oh, okay, then. Listen, I was thinking that now that we've got your dress picked out. We need to move on getting these other dresses pick
ed out. Last night, when I got out of the shower, Drew was asking me if I was wearing the same thing as the bridesmaids. And, I didn't know. We haven't really talked about that kinda thing. He said for his sister's wedding that everyone was wearing a different dress, but, in the same color. I thought that was pretty cool. Hell, I even dreamed of it. Ooh, and I just sat here and thought that we could do the same dress but in different colors. That would cool, too. Whaddaya think?"

  "I think that you and Drew shouldn't be in bed together talking about me."

  "Trust me. It ain't like that, gurl. We were just talkin' while I dried my hair."

  "You sure are over there a lot now."

  "Don't change the subject. We need to get this show on the road."

  "Yeah, I know. I'll think about it tonight."

  "No, you won't. But, that's okay, cuz I'm just gonna keep buggin' you until we get this done."

  "Thank you so much."

  "No need to thank me. It's what maids of honor are for. I love ya. Call you later."

  She said, "love you too" as she stepped out of the building onto the sidewalk. In the darkness cast by the other skyscrapers, she looked to her left and right. She hadn't asked what he'd be driving. He hadn't told her. She thought, surely, he wouldn't still be driving his old Honda CRX. Glancing at cars as they passed by, she tried to peer inside to spot a familiar face. She was staring at a dark-skinned man in a Toyota when a shiny, black convertible Cadillac stopped in front of her and the passenger window opened.

  Unaware of the car's presence, she was startled when a familiar voice said, "Baby doll, you look beautiful."

  Chapter 9

  Mallory arrived home to what appeared to be an empty house. Jacqueline's Jeep was parked in the driveway, but, as she entered the house, she saw and heard no one. Perplexed, she said, "Hello," but no one answered. She placed her purse and folio on the coffee table. As she looked around her empty house, she intended to drop her keys on the coffee table, but she missed and her keys hit the floor. Stepping over them, she went in search of Jax and Zoe. The kitchen was dark. The main bathroom was empty. Thinking this may be a weird repeat of Saturday morning, she headed to Zoe's bedroom. The door was cracked. Gently, she pushed it open.