by Dara Girard
Conrad got into the driver's side. “I'm sure he didn't mean any harm. He knows I have money.”
“That's even worse. You should wear clothes according to your status.”
Conrad laughed. “I don't care about that.”
“It's bad business to treat customers the way he does. He doesn't respect you and you should always command respect. I don't ever want you going back there. I know a tailor you can trust.”
He didn't go back but the final three suits he got from Mr. Stewart were stunning. After two months of seeing each other, Paula knew he wanted their relationship to become more serious--she wasn't sure yet, especially when there were still other options. And one day one of those options showed up.
Chapter Three
“Paula?”
Paula turned towards the voice. She'd been waiting for Conrad to meet her. She was attending a key networking event to gain more clients for her company. It had been her aunt's idea. “If he cares about you, he'll show up. It's important for a man to show interest in your career.” And he had. He'd just left to get them both drinks and she was alone, ready to mingle. The man who'd spoken her name was beautiful and so sinfully hot he could have made the sun sweat. “Yes?”
“I thought so. I was in your class at the University of Maryland.” Paula had been an adjunct professor at the university for two years, teaching business finance and commerce.
Yes, she remembered him. Andre Bell. He'd set the campus on fire, not just for his athletic ability, taking the university to a national basketball championship, but he was smart, and was admired by all.
“How are you?” he asked.
Paula fought to get her mouth in working order. “Well.”
“You look great. If you're done with all your meet and greet, I'd like to take you out for coffee.”
He could take her out for coffee, tea, soda whatever he wanted. She really wanted to go. This was her chance. She could leave right now; send a text to Conrad and say that something had come up. He'd understand. It was tempting, but something made her stop. “Sorry, I can't. I'm here with someone.”
“Someone special?”
“No, we're just friends,” she said, wanting to leave the door open for a second invite.
“Maybe another time then.”
Yes. She glanced up and saw Conrad carrying a plate of desserts. He looked great in his new suit. Not debonair, but presentable. He was just a few feet away when he tripped and a strawberry tart landed on the front of his shirt leaving a bright pink stain. Paula briefly hung her head. Figures. She glanced at Andre and saw his mouth quirk as he tried not to laugh.
“Sorry I took so long,” Conrad said handing her the plate. “I got chatting with this guy about his business that really needs to be restructured. I got his card for you and gave him your name. I told him you were one of the best.” He fumbled for the card he had placed in his pocket. “Ah, yes here it is.”
“Thanks,” Paula first glanced at the card then stared when she read the name.
Andre glanced over her shoulder and read the name then gave a low whistle.
Paula stared at Conrad amazed. “How did you get this?”
Conrad frowned. “I just told you.”
“Do you know who this is?” She didn't let him answer. “He's a known entrepreneur. He turns businesses into multimillion dollar empires. I'm a nobody.”
“No you're not. He said he could use your services.”
“He was probably just being nice,” Andre said.
Conrad shot him a glance and stretched out his hand. It appeared like a warm friendly gesture, but there was a chill to his tone. “And you are?”
“Andre Bell.”
“This is a former student of mine,” Paula said.
Conrad nodded. “I see. Well, you may not have much confidence in Paula, but I do. He wasn't being nice.”
Andre grinned. “I didn't mean to offend you it's just that guys like that usually come to these events to throw their money around, get their names known, then leave. They don't need help.”
“He does.”
Paula lightly touched Conrad's arm not wanting him to argue. Andre was probably right but Conrad had such a good heart he probably wouldn't know the difference.
The two men couldn't be more different. It was almost painfully stark--one looked like a champion golden retriever, the other a loyal bloodhound.
“I'd better go,” Andre said. “Talk to you later, Paula. Nice to meet you Conrad.”
Conrad nodded and Paula merely waved.
“Old friend?” Conrad asked, watching Andre get up and walk over to another guest.
“I told you, I met him at the university.”
Conrad was quiet a moment then looked at her. “Did he ask you out?”
“What?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn't blame him.”
Paula stood feeling restless and guilty, although she had no reason to. “Let's go. You need to change your shirt.”
He gently tugged her back down. “Relax. It won't stain.”
“You've done this before?”
“You're avoiding my question.”
Paula picked up a ladyfinger then softly said, “Yes, he asked me to have coffee.”
“And what did you say?”
“Guess.”
He briefly closed his eyes. “You said 'No, my boyfriend wouldn't like it.'“
Boyfriend? Funny she'd never even thought of that. Had they really gotten to that stage? Did she want to?
Conrad sighed and looked at her. “So that's not what you said?”
“I did say no,” she said wondering why the feeling of guilt continued to linger. They'd never talked about being exclusive.
“But you didn't say I was your boyfriend.”
“I didn't know you were.”
“What do you think I am?”
“Just a friend.”
Conrad shook his head and offered her one of his rare crooked smiles. “I like you too much to be just a friend. If you don't want more, then let's stop this now.”
“No, I just...”
“Go out with him. If he's the one you want to be with, just let me know.”
“Conrad don't,” Paula said now feeling anxious. She playfully nudged him with her elbow. “Come on. You know I like you.”
“Go out with him then we'll both know how much.”
***
“You're giving up a good guy,” Aunt Miriam said as Paula prepared for her date with Andre. She'd asked to borrow her aunt's gold necklace and her aunt had insisted on coming over with it.
“I'm not giving him up. I'm just taking a break.”
“And in the meantime someone else will snap him up.”
“No one has so far.”
“That's because women are stupid.”
Paula turned to her aunt surprised. “I thought you were a feminist.”
“I am, but that doesn't stop me from seeing the failings of our sex. If we're not indulging in unhealthy diets or falling for beauty fads we're choosing the wrong men.”
“It's just coffee.”
“For now,” Aunt Miriam said with a knowing look.
***
Her date that evening was almost magical. Everything was perfect. Unlike Conrad, Andre arrived on time beautifully dressed carrying a single white rose. There were no awkward silences. The conversation was fascinating. Unlike Bennett, Andre was established, so he wasn't one of those high flying dreamers she used to attract; and, unlike Edwin, he listened to her. He was warm, funny and gracious. And she knew they looked wonderful together.
“This was great. Let's make it dinner next time,” he said. He walked beside her as they navigated an uneven pavement outside the restaurant.
A second date? Really? Before she could reply a metal construction sign dropped from its hold and struck her arm, tearing her sleeve and cutting her arm and hand.
“Are you okay?” Andre asked.
“Yes, I'm fine,” Paula said a little s
tunned.
He looked at the cut and grimaced. “Oh that looks nasty. When you get home you'd better put some ice on that.”
“I will,” she said, awkwardly adjusting her torn sleeve and moving her hand out of view. “Thanks for a great time.”
He kissed her on the cheek then whispered, “Think about dinner.”
“Yes.” Paula walked to her car, his warm breath still tingling her ear and the scent of his cologne lingering. She got inside her car, slammed the car door shut then swore. Now that she was alone she didn't have to pretend that her arm and hand didn't hurt like hell. Fortunately, her car was an automatic, not a stick shift. Once at home, Paula took off her torn blouse and cleaned her cuts with some hydrogen peroxide, put a bandage on both, then grabbed a drink from her fridge and noticed Conrad's birthday circled on her calendar. Treating a friend for his birthday wasn't wrong. She'd gotten him tickets to a 3D feature at a small obscure theatre she knew he liked. She decided to call him. It had only been a week, yet she'd started to miss his voice. “Do you have any plans for Saturday?” she asked once he'd picked up.
“I'll be in Maui with my model girlfriend.”
She chuckled. “Before you go I have a treat for you.”
“Okay.”
***
It had been a couple weeks since she had been with him at the networking party, and a lot had happened. The contact Conrad had given her from the networking event had come through; he had signed a lucrative contract with her company and she had been nominated for an award recognizing young business professionals. They were two things she was surprisingly eager to tell him about. That evening, Paula took her time getting dressed. She wasn’t sure why, then just figured it was because it was his birthday and she wanted it to be special. When he opened the door she waved the tickets and smiled. “Happy Birthday.”
He frowned. “What happened to your hand?”
Paula glanced down. She'd forgotten about her injury. “I was attacked by a road sign,” she said with a laugh. “The wind knocked it over and it tore my blouse cutting my arm and hand. Are you sure you didn't organize it?” she asked trying to lighten his intense expression.
“Me?”
“Yes, I was out with Andre and I know you didn't want me to be.” She'd meant it as a joke, but Conrad didn't smile.
“Did he take you to the hospital get checked?”
“I didn't need to get checked. It was just a cut.”
“By a large metal object. Did he apply antiseptic?”
“He didn't do anything.”
“Except drive you home?”
“Why would he drive me home when we both came in separate cars?”
“Has he called you?”
“For another date?” she asked surprised by the change in topic. Conrad looked angry, she'd never seen him like this. “No, not yet.”
His jaw twitched. “I meant did he call to see if you were okay.”
“You're getting upset. Come on, let's go.”
“I'm not upset.”
“Yes you are, you're clenching your jaw.” She playfully patted his cheek. “Forget about it.”
He pulled her inside and led her into his living room. “Sit down.”
“We'll be late.”
He shot her a glance and she sat. He ran down the hall.
“Stop!”
He turned to her startled.
“You're wearing flip flops.”
“So?”
“You shouldn't run in flip flops. You could slip out of them and break your leg or something, especially going down the stairs. This is not an emergency.”
“I haven't broken anything so far so you can relax.” He disappeared into the bathroom. Wispy jumped up on the couch. Paula stroked her and the kitten began to purr. “Your Daddy is in a funny mood.”
“No, he's annoyed.” Conrad came back into the living room carrying a First Aid kit. He sat. “Show me your arm first.”
“We're going to be late.”
“Then move faster.”
Paula showed him her arm. He cleaned it with some antiseptic. She winced, it was still very sore.
“I'm sorry,” he said then put on a new bandage. He cleaned the top of her hand then bit his lip and raised his eyes to hers. “Did he ask you out again?”
Paula met his gaze. It was so serious and sincere she couldn't help smiling. “Has anyone ever told you that you have nice eyes?”
He sighed. “Don't play with me, Paula.”
“I'm not. I really like your eyes. Even when they're serious as they are now.” She waved the tickets. “And you're going to miss your birthday gift.”
“Did you say yes?”
“To a second date?”
He nodded.
“I didn't say anything. That's when the sign attacked me.”
“I see.”
“I told you to forget about it.”
“Make me.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He nodded.
She brushed her mouth against his. “Now let's go.” She stood.
Conrad stood too and pulled her close. “Not yet.” His lips met hers and his kiss reminded her of him. It was like hot cinnamon chocolate. Warm and sweet. A habit she could definitely get used to. He drew away and searched her face, but she could tell he didn't find what he was looking for because his eyes had a guarded look she didn't like. For some reason she didn't like being the source of his disappointment or unhappiness. She liked him a lot, although most times she wasn't quite sure why. Paula stood on her tip toes and again brushed her lips against his, wishing she could make his guarded look disappear. Although it was a light quick touch, her lips tingled, but his wary look remained. At times she felt there was a chasm between them she couldn't cross, but she didn't want to think of that. She grabbed his coat. “Now, let's go.”
***
The movie was a bomb but they laughed throughout at how awful it was. Afterwards, since it was still warm outside, they walked along the Potomac while she shared her news about her new client and the award nomination. Then Conrad treated her to dinner at a fancy restaurant in the heart of downtown, even though it was his birthday.
“I know the owner,” he said. “I helped him get started. So order whatever you want.”
She did with eagerness. That feeling left her once they waited twenty minutes just for the stale bread that finally arrived at their table. The main meal was not much better. She took one bite, set her fork down and folded her arms. “Get the chef,” she told the waitress.
“Is there a problem?” the young woman asked with a tentative smile.
Paula gritted her teeth. “Yes.”
The waitress left and Conrad leaned towards her. “What's wrong?”
“Don't take a single bite.”
“But--”
The chef, Judson Delord, arrived at the table. A hearty looking young man with silvery blonde hair and a tan that seemed to come by way of a cheap tanning booth rather than the sun. He gave Conrad a warm greeting. “What can I do for you two?”
“Give us what we ordered,” Paula said.
“What?”
“We ordered the seafood platter. Unfortunately, what I see on my plate is rice that is only partially cooked, and scallops that had clearly been frozen on their way here rather than fresh. I won't even ask what this pile of mush is supposed to be, crab cakes perhaps.”
“All our food is fresh.”
She raised her plate. “Since you don't believe me, have a taste.”
Judson hesitated then lowered his voice. “Look fresh is expensive. Most people can't tell the difference.”
Conrad set his napkin on the table. “Funny, that doesn't sound like an apology.”
Judson glanced at his friend then sighed. “I'm sorry.”
Paula pointed at Conrad. “He knows the owner.”
“Paula--” Conrad said.
She ignored him. “Give me a reason not to call the owner.”
“I'm the owner,”
Judson said.
“What?”
“That's what I was trying to say,” Conrad said.
“Is this how you treat your friends? Cutting costs at the expense of your business's success?”
Judson stiffened. “I'm making money.”
“You could make more.”
His eyes lit up. “How?”
“I charge for information like that.” She stood. “Let's go.” She left the restaurant before Conrad could stop her.
He caught up with her a block away. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You know I'll take you home.”
“I'm so angry.”
“He said he'd cook us something else for free.”
Paula stopped and stared up at him. “I wouldn't even nibble bread he buttered. How dare he smile at you while feeding you garbage at the same time? You said you helped him finance this?”
Conrad took her arm and moved off the sidewalk to stand under the awning of a building. “Yes, he said he didn't know.”
“Of course he knew. He's the chef and the owner. He's just sloppy.”
“He's willing to learn.”
“You're lying. I bet he hates my guts.”
“Doesn't matter. You were right. He wants to hear your ideas and he's willing to pay you.”
She frowned. “I doubt he can afford it.”
“I can.”
“Will you profit too?”
“Yes.”
She glanced back in the direction of the restaurant then looked at him.”Then I'll do it for you.”
He gave her a brief hug. “Thank you.”
“I'm still annoyed,” she said but his warm embrace had improved her mood.
“I'm sorry. I hate to see you this upset.”
“Don't apologize. It's not your fault.” She paused. “Okay, maybe it's partly your fault. You're too understanding. You have to command respect. Demand it. Don't you care what people think about you?”
“Not really.”
“That's the problem. How people see you is the key to your power. It's the basis of every decision they'll make about you. You're the size of a redwood yet people treat you like a toothpick.”
“The only opinions that matter to me are the ones from the people I care about.”
Paula sighed. He was clueless and that frustrated her. But she'd fallen for a dreamer before so she couldn't blame him for being fooled. But as man he should know how important power was.
