Learned Behaviors (Higher Education)

by Jayce Ellis

  Matt had convinced himself after the first meeting that he didn’t want to deal with Mr. Reynolds, so he should be happy the issue had resolved itself. But this past week of watching him, how he interacted with the other staff and designers, seeing how much people looked to him to bridge the gap between Patti’s genius and real-world application, made Matt want to know more. It drove him batshit.

  His phone rang and he grinned, staring down at it. “My girl, what’s good?”

  Kendra Wilkerson, his best friend since forever and a nurse at Howard University Hospital, laughed. “We need to go out again. Somewhere I don’t need to look cute.”

  She always looked good, so he knew she was blowing smoke up his ass. He started to respond and grunted as Spitfire jumped onto his lap from wherever he’d been, probably sunning himself in the kitchen, and batted at the phone. He adored Kendra, and had a sixth sense about when she was on the line. “You want me to meet you down there?”

  “No, I’m heading back home. I can come to you.” She lived in Arlington, but had worked at the college for decades before her move.

  “What’re we doing?”

  “You’re taking that big salary you make and we’re having dinner and drinks.”

  Like she was suffering financially. Still, Matt would do just about anything for the person he considered the baby sister he’d been deprived of. “When and where?”

  They picked a burger spot a mile up the road and disconnected. Spitfire looked at the phone, meowed plaintively, then pranced toward the kitchen and his bowl. Matt followed and, of course, it was three-quarters full. He’d been lazy about mixing the wet and dry food, and Spitfire’d only eaten the wet. Matt added more, took his time mixing it up, and set it back down. And swore Spitfire was pissed about it. He rolled his eyes, took a quick shower, denying the insatiable urge to get himself off before he went out, then dressed and left.

  God, he shouldn’t have bothered with the shower. And his grand idea of walking the mile up to the restaurant was a poor one. He needed the time to think, and walking was typically his mode of transportation for that. But even in September, with the temperature starting to cool a fraction, his shirt stuck to him and beads of sweat dripped from his brow and the back of his neck by the time he arrived. The shock of cold air chilled him and he shivered. He was absolutely calling a rideshare back.

  Kendra was already there, sitting at a high-top table, her legs swinging against the chair, focused on the only college football game on the ten-plus TVs above the bar. The rest were fixed on baseball. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, the curly tendrils falling in a way that routinely got her carded, but he knew that style was only for ease. In her forties, though, she called it the best compliment.

  Matt climbed into the chair next to her and she pushed over a beer, not bothering to turn. “Got you a Yuengling. Jalapeño poppers are coming. Alabama about to get in that ass.”

  Matt’s shoulders relaxed at the familiarity. This was what he’d needed, a chance to chill and not be the uptight prick he knew everyone at Kingsley assumed him to be. He’d always considered it a necessary evil, but he was starting to rethink. Mr. Reynolds had a level of familiarity with his coworkers that stunned Matt. He might not even want that in a place like Bernhardt, but he still envied it.

  “What’s that big brain of yours stressing over now?” Kendra asked, her head focused intently on the game. She was a Georgia girl at heart, but she enjoyed watching Alabama win, because a Bulldog victory was that much sweeter at the end of the season. Matt was pretty sure most Bulldog fans didn’t share that sentiment.

  “Just trying to make it through.”

  “Bull,” she said, finally turning to face him with the same focus she’d given the screen. “I know you, remember? Better sometimes than you know yourself. Damn sure better than that wife of yours ever did.”

  Suffice it to say Kendra and Diane had never gotten along. Diane was jealous of their relationship, to the point where he and Kendra had taken to speaking only on holidays and their birthdays to keep the peace. Rekindling their friendship had been one of Matt’s biggest priorities after the separation, and he remained grateful Kendra had picked things up without missing a beat.

  “This company I’m working with, feels like lines are blurred all over the place. It’s got me thinking about how rigid things are at Bernhardt. That’s all.” Leave it, Kennie, just leave it.

  No chance of that. “But that’s part of what you liked about them. Everyone knew their place. So what’s the real problem?”

  He sighed. “I know, but there’s someone there who—”

  “Ahh shit, wait. Wait.” Kennie cut him off with a finger while waving a server over. “My boy here is about to drop some heavy shit on me, and I need my poppers for that to happen. And a refill,” she added, holding up her glass.

  Matt shook his head. Kendra could be extra sometimes, but that was part of her appeal. He didn’t have that in him, and he loved her vibrancy.

  The poppers and beer were there in record time and Kendra took a long sip, loaded her plate with bite-sized bits of gloriousness, and got comfortable. “Talk to me.”

  “There’s a guy.”

  Kendra choked, and Matt took a second to appreciate the rareness of being able to shock her. “You haven’t mentioned a guy in forever.”

  She was right. She’d been the first person he’d talked to about his sexuality, but he hadn’t talked about one since he and Diane started dating. There’d been no reason to so, thirty years later, he got Kendra’s reaction. And she hadn’t paid attention to the way he’d tracked Ja—Mr. Reynolds the other night. He’d given her some BS excuse when she’d caught on that his attention was elsewhere, and she’d let it go.

  “He’s the EA for the owner, and her team is exceptional. But this guy...” Matt couldn’t find the words to describe it.

  “He’s the one.”

  “He...what? What’re you talking about?” He’d known Mr. Reynolds for under three weeks, and a good chunk of that time was spent avoiding him. He wasn’t the anything.

  Kendra did a remarkably good job of appearing unimpressed. “Look, I know Diane did it for you and everything, but she wasn’t the one. Your kids are great, but you didn’t get what you needed from that marriage and you know it. And neither did she, which is why she found dude half her age to put it on her.”

  Matt winced and took a long sip of his beer. Kennie patted his hand, then snagged another popper. “Sorry, but you know I’m right. But in all the time that you dated, married, whatever, you never got the look on your face talking about her that you have right now.”

  “What look is that?” Matt knew his voice sounded pinched. He also knew Kendra didn’t give a damn.

  “You got all wistful. You sighed. Your eyes went glassy. You’re fighting your grin. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Which didn’t mean shit. “He’s attractive, okay? Goddamn gorgeous if I’m being honest. And I know he wants me, and is trying to keep it professional. Hell, he took himself off the project I’m there to work on.”

  “And you’re mad about it.”

  “Damn straight I am.”

  “But he’s not a designer.”

  “No.”

  “Then why does he need to be on the team?”

  Matt opened his mouth and paused, his words hanging in the air. Fuck. Kendra smiled, her point made, and tossed another popper in her mouth. A little hum escaped while she turned her attention back to the screen.

  He knew JaQuan—he couldn’t even keep up the Mr. Reynolds shtick in his head anymore—didn’t need to be on the project. Patti wanted him because he kept her on track and could rein in her flights of fancy, but she’d honestly been okay so far. Matt wanted him there because he wanted to see him, to watch him work, to spend hours on end next to him. That he wasn’t entirely sure if he even liked JaQ
uan wasn’t the point.

  “You want him.” Not a question. Didn’t need to be.

  “Absolutely.” Matt wasn’t prepared for the relief he felt at admitting it to himself.

  “So what’s holding you back?”

  With anyone else, he’d fudge the answer. Kendra called him out on his shit all the time, though, and Matt needed a real opinion. “I didn’t expect the divorce to be as hard on me or the kids as it has been. I thought with Josh and Natalie being grown it’d be easier, but it hasn’t been like that. And Halo still barely speaks to me.”

  Natalie played it off best, but she was across the country at Stanford Law. He could never tell if she was genuinely happy to hear from him or feigning it so she wouldn’t have to hear his mouth. As Josh’s relationship with Chandra had progressed, he’d leaned on Matt and they’d gotten closer. But Halo—his long-standing nickname for his youngest, Angela—had been in high school when he and Di divorced. She had a bitterness—toward both of them, but definitely more with him—that he hadn’t been able to crack.

  “You still call that girl Halo?” Kennie asked, interrupting his thoughts. “Blessed be, no wonder she stays mad. You seen her yet?”

  “No.” And that was part of it. How could he consider messing around with some dude when his family—the most important thing in his life—was still so frayed? That should command all of his spare time and energy, and that hadn’t happened.

  “First of all, go see your baby. Second of all, we can walk and chew gum, Matthew. Don’t let one part of your life go to shit while you wait on another part to correct itself. Your kids are grown and you need to treat them that way. If they have a harder time seeing you with a man than seeing Diane married to some bama closer to Joshie’s age than y’all’s, well, I blame your astonishingly poor taste in women for that.”

  “Gee, thanks, Kennie.”

  “You know I’m right.” She turned to him then, her face softening. “The last few years have been hard, but it’s not healthy for you to put all your focus into one thing. You have a job to do, Matt. Do it and do it well. And when it’s done, make him your job.” Kendra thunked her glass down and stood, watching the Crimson Tide running back rush eighty-three yards for the score and pumping a hand in the air. “Man, when my boys whoop their ass, it’s gonna be so sweet.”

  Matt chuckled and finished off his drink. As far as Kennie was concerned, the conversation was over and the direction clear. What he’d give for a fraction of her confidence.

  * * *

  Jaq finished his rounds and trudged back to his desk. They’d had their Monday meeting, everything was going well, and he’d just had a conversation with a rep from Schuyler’s about their holiday design. Word had gotten out they were launching with Bernhardt and now every other store wanted something new, too. The best kind of maddening, but Patti’s name would soon be all over the map. The exhaustion that was gradually wearing him down would have to wait.

  Someone buzzed through on his phone. “Yeah?” he said as he picked up.

  “Mr. Reynolds, this is Matthew. Can you come to the conference room please?”

  As good as his name sounded coming from Matt’s lips, he couldn’t tamp down his frustration. Jaq had a ton of things to do. It was on the tip of his tongue to say no, but Matt wouldn’t interrupt him if it wasn’t important.

  “I’m on my way,” he said. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, then strode down the hall and into the conference room.

  The usual subjects stood in a semicircle around the table. Patti, Matt, Laurel, Cory and Emergine—the other two designers—and a Black woman with a nose ring, a full-arm sleeve tattoo, and Chucks on, standing with her arm draped across Laurel’s shoulders. Interesting.

  “She can’t do this. She. Can’t. Do. This!” Patti wailed while she paced, her hands tugging through her hair.

  Jaq met her halfway across the room and held her wrists until she let go. “You’re going to make it frizzy.”

  Patti’s eyes widened and she dropped her hands. She was relaxed about a lot of things. Her hair was not one of them.

  “Now,” Jaq said, turning to Laurel, “what’s going on here? Who is this?”

  The other woman coughed and pulled Laurel close. She cleared her throat. “She’s, umm, she’s my wife. Gwendolyn. Gwen.”

  “You can call me G,” the woman in question said.

  Not a problem, because that was an old-school Black name if he ever heard one. Didn’t even sound right without Miss or Auntie in front of it. Jaq raised one brow and grinned. “I guess what happened in Vegas didn’t stay there?”

  G’s smile was sinful, but Laurel blushed. Cute. “We met there and hit it off and had a fake wedding. I thought. It was a lark until, I mean...”

  “Until it wasn’t?”

  Laurel nodded. “I didn’t think much of it, but...” She paused and held up her hand. “She’d given me this. It’s her grandmother’s, and she was kinda hysterical when I came back here with it. She tracked me down and came out to get it.”

  Jaq turned to G, who looked at Laurel like she was every dream come true, and ignored the pang in his stomach at the sight. “So now what?”

  “We hit it off again. And want to see if we can make it work. It wasn’t meant to be real, but—” she stopped and grabbed Laurel’s hand, holding it tight against her “—I still feel it. I want to know if it is.”

  IHOP’s butterscotch syrup—the absolute best thing about that place—wasn’t as sweet as these two. He looked at Laurel. “So you’re moving to Vegas?”

  “Arizona. G owns a company in Scottsdale.”

  Jaq pulled Laurel in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you and wish you the best. I’ll get the paperwork started and we’ll get your last paycheck squared away today.”

  “What? No!” Patti cried out. “How will we finish the project in time? There’s no way. It’s impossible. She can’t go.”

  “Patti,” Jaq said, turning over his shoulder. “Cory and Gini are more than equipped to handle this. Laurel could leave for no reason. All things considered, I think this is a pretty good one.” He turned back to Laurel and G. “Go on, get out of here while I take care of this. Don’t leave before I talk to you.”

  Laurel nodded and grabbed her wife’s hand, dragging her out of the room, giggling like schoolgirls. They were cute. And he was fucked.

  “Jaq, you don’t understand. We need everyone. Everyone on deck.” Patti spun, pointing a finger at him, fury dripping from her eyes. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t left the team. You did it and now everyone thinks they can do it and you just let her walk out.”

  Patti was near hysterics by the time she finished, but it was all Jaq could do to hold on to his own temper. Patti was eccentric, quirky, difficult to deal with at times, but Jaq had never been on the receiving end of her outbursts. He’d been the peacekeeper when she turned her ire to others, and one of the reasons their team was so strong was Patti was good about apologizing, and she rarely repeated bad behavior. That said, his initial response, to give as good as he got, rode him hard, because he didn’t work this damn hard to get blamed for shit out of his control. Laurel would’ve left with or without his blessing, and there was no way he could be anything other than happy for her.

  Jaq walked out, forced himself to close the conference room door with a soft click instead of a slam, and retreated to the sanctity of his office. He sank into his chair and sighed.

  The knock on his door came too quickly. Could a man get two damn minutes to himself? “What is it?” he called out, too on edge to be polite.

  Matt entered the room and shut the door behind him. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He didn’t care that they both knew he was lying. Hell, Matt was probably pleased as punch to see him so ruffled.

  Matt huffed out a soft snort. “Patti fucked up in there. You did a
good thing walking away.” He moved farther into the room, then took a seat when Jaq didn’t stop him. “She’s stressed. More than when I got here, and she’s looking for someone to lash out at. I know you know this.”

  Jaq grunted. He did know it, but it didn’t help. Matt kept going. “What you said to Laurel was amazing, though. I don’t know her, but even I could tell something was going on. Patti wouldn’t discuss it. Can’t say I was expecting this, but I’m not surprised.” He paused, long enough that Jaq lifted his eyes to meet Matt’s. “You’re remarkable at your job.”

  Jaq snorted, averting his gaze again. The praise made him itchy. The closeness made him want. Neither made him good at his job. “I had to leave before I said something.”

  “Good thing you did, too. Patti knew as soon as you walked out that she’d fucked up. I’ve spoken with Cory and Emergine, and they can pick up where Laurel left off. It’s going to be longer hours and probably some Sundays for a few weeks, but it’ll get done. We need you on the team, though.”

  “I’m not a designer.”

  “We don’t need a designer. Patti needs to oversee the team. You need to oversee her.”

  Jaq stood and walked over to the window overlooking the street below. It bustled with traffic, the sound normally a soothing melody that was anything but right now. “That’s literally the opposite of my job description.”

  Matt stepped forward. “And it’s literally what you do anyway. Look, I get that you’re trying to keep all the other balls up in the air. And maybe we won’t need you all day every day, but it’s clear we need you. We lost this morning because Patti needs you.”

  Oh, hell. Jaq didn’t want to admit that Matt was right, any more than he wanted to admit that the idea of spending more time with him during the day filled him with something that was definitely not dread.

  “Come back. Let Patti apologize. You know she feels horrible.”