by Nadirah Foxx
I shrieked.
“Rachel, it’s me.”
Turning my head, I saw Leo. “Why are you still here?”
He held my hair back, smiled, and said, “You had too much to drink last night. I stayed here to make sure you didn’t end up drowning in your own vomit.”
I noticed he was shirtless and only had on a pair of boxers. I was in one of my oversized T-shirts. Sitting back on my heels, I took the washcloth he offered me. “Did anything happen between us?”
He shook his head. “I was a perfect gentleman. I won’t deny being tempted though. You’re a beautiful woman, but I didn’t ask you out to take advantage of you.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
“Do you need anything before I leave? I have a few meetings today, but if you—”
“No, I’m good. I’m staying home. If I need something, I’ll call Crystal.”
“Okay.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Maybe we can do this again? Dinner, that is.”
“Sure.”
I listened to Leo let himself out, and slowly, I got up from my spot in front of the toilet. Honestly, I had no memory of anything after Leo brought me home. I wasn’t a lightweight drinker. Crystal and I went out every Friday night for drinks. We used to do shots of tequila together. How was it that a few beers, a glass of wine, and a little whiskey knocked me out? Better question—why couldn’t I remember what happened the previous night?
When I stepped into the bedroom, I noticed my underwear on the floor. Quickly, I checked around the bed, looking for evidence of a used condom, but there were no signs that anything happened. Would Leo have taken off my panties?
He said he was tempted. How far did that temptation go?
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember anything. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand—how did this get here? It should have still been in my purse.
First, I called into work and told my boss I was sick. I promised that I’d work from home as soon as my stomach settled down. I started to call Crystal but then stopped. She’d get on my back about going out with Leo. Instead, I returned the phone to the nightstand and headed back to the bathroom. Shower first, and then I’d strip the sheets off the bed.
7
Much At Stake
The Bad Guy
Women tended to be vulnerable creatures. Some owned up to their flaws…their weaknesses. Others pretended to be much stronger than they were. They liked to believe they were safe behind the walls of where they lived. But apartments weren’t fortresses. If anyone wanted to breach the premise, he could. Easily.
Rachel belonged to that group of pretenders. She loved her independence, and I appreciated that about her.
Always had.
Somehow, I had to get her to understand that freedom came with responsibility. I could only give her so much rope before she hanged herself with it, and that would be a waste.
I was dying to taste her. To love her. To fuck her. Again. But I had to be patient. Good things came to those who waited, and I’d waited a long time for Rachel.
8
Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?
Rachel
It took an entire day to shake off the effects of the hangover. Odd to say the least. Alcohol had never knocked me out. No, it wasn’t pride talking. Just a fact. Either way, I was too weak to even consider dragging out my laptop to catch up on some projects.
When I didn’t show up at the ad agency, Crystal called. Since we both worked in the same building, we had lunch together every day.
“Hey, girl, are you okay?”
“Just a hangover. Too many drinks at dinner last night,” I admitted.
Static came through the connection. “That doesn’t sound like you. Who did you go out with?”
“Stop worrying. It’s probably not even from booze. My stomach keeps churning, and I can’t stay out of the bathroom.”
“Maybe you’re right. There’s a bug going around my office. If you don’t feel any better tomorrow, maybe go to the doctor.”
“Will do.”
That snippet of news made me feel somewhat better, but the next morning, I still felt hungover. In case it was really a virus, I stayed home again. I rarely took any time off, even for a cold. Two days of missed work worried my boss. I appreciated her concern and promised to see a doctor if I didn’t feel better on Wednesday.
What I couldn’t do was lie in bed all day or watch hours of mindless television. Instead of vegetating in the apartment, I summoned up the strength and went to the laundromat over on Thirteen Mile Road.
Normally, I went to Dad’s and did my laundry. It gave me a chance to check up on him and do a few loads for him as well. If I didn’t, Dad would let it pile up and then complain about not having clean underwear. I loved my father, but I knew one day soon I’d have to take care of him. Between his PTSD and his newly diagnosed early onset dementia, I knew the title of caregiver would soon be added to my resume.
But it was too early in the week to do laundry at Dad’s. He’d fuss about me not working. The last thing I wanted was for him to be overly concerned about me. I wasn’t a little kid anymore.
The Royal Laundromat was your standard laundry—two walls of dryers with a smattering of washers in the center of the room. There were a pair of TV monitors mounted on a pole near the door. Rather dull, especially on a weekday when most apartment dwellers were at work, but thankfully the place was clean. I inserted a few coins in the machine and walked to the open door.
The fresh air wasn’t helping my mood or my health. Despite breakfast and a cup of coffee, I still didn’t feel like myself. I was having a difficult time focusing, and I was super clumsy—I broke a plate and a glass that morning—which was so unlike me. I was seriously considering calling my doctor when I noticed the pharmacy next door. Surely, I could find something to help a hangover or virus or whatever it was I had.
A bell chimed as I walked through the door. The pharmacist, a middle-aged woman with faded red hair, stood behind the counter. She flashed a bright smile. “How can I help you?”
“I’m not sure. I was a bad girl over the weekend and mixed drinks. Too much beer and wine followed by shots of whiskey. I haven’t been able to shake the hangover.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Other than the obvious, have you had any other symptoms? Anything odd?”
“Frankly, I’ve never really had a hangover, so everything feels odd. I’m dizzy and really just foggy.” Then, I remembered the broken dish. “And I’m unsteady on my feet. I’m not a clumsy person, but I kept dropping things this morning.”
“A hangover doesn’t last two days. You mentioned dizziness too.” Her eyebrows touched for a moment before she tapped her nails on the counter. “Can you wait just a minute?”
“Sure.” I turned around and leaned against the counter as she walked away. A black Mustang rolled into a parking space while I waited. I had my suspicion who it belonged to, and when the door swung open, it was confirmed. Leo exited the vehicle, stretched for a moment, and then closed the door. He didn’t even bother to lock it. Leo looked right and left before sauntering up to the pharmacy door.
He was smiling as he stepped into the shop. “Rachel, taking the day off?”
I forced my own smile. “Sort of. I’m still not feeling well.”
“Really?” He stepped closer and kissed my cheek. “That doesn’t sound like a hangover, babe.”
Babe? Since when?
“Miss?” The pharmacist had returned. “I have some information for you.”
Leo extended his hand. “I’ll take it. My girl is feeling under the weather.”
His girl?
The woman’s eyes widened as she looked from me and then Leo and then back again. She grabbed a notepad. “Actually, I was going to get your girlfriend’s contact information. She asked me about the stomach virus going around. I wanted to give her a few options for treatment, but it’s extensive.”
Nice save.
I quickly cau
ght on. The woman probably questioned the relationship between Leo and me. I couldn’t say I blamed her. There had been a few recent cases where victims of domestic abuse reached out to for help publicly. “I’m next door doing laundry. Let me give you my cell phone number.”
I wrote down my digits and walked with Leo to the door. Outside, I asked, “Did you need to pick up something at the pharmacy?”
“Naw. I noticed your car. Just came to check on you.”
He noticed my car? How did he… Silly, me. Leo said he saw me exit it at the apartment. He remembered it. Honestly, I didn’t know whether to be flattered or concerned.
“Well, thank you for checking on me. My laundry’s probably done.”
“Doubt it. You haven’t been gone nearly long enough.”
My blood froze, and bile rose up my throat. “How?”
“I was across the street. I’ve a friend who lives in the apartments over there.” Leo stepped off the sidewalk and walked over to his car. He twirled the key chain in his hand. “I saw you when you pulled in. These washers take at least half an hour.”
“Yeah. Right,” I said absently. “Of course they do.”
Leo opened the car door. “If you’re okay, I’ll see you later.” He started to get in his vehicle but hesitated. “Rachel, would you like to go out with me again?”
My gut twisted and screamed no, but my heart entertained the idea. “I rarely go out during the week. You know, work and all.”
“Understood. It’s—”
“But I’d be happy to cook something for us,” I blurted out.
Why did I say that?
Leo paused, placed his hand on the car roof, and curled his lips up. “I’d love that. Naturally, when you’re feeling better.”
I shook my head. “When I feel better, I’ll be knee-deep in work. Come by tonight around seven. It won’t be fancy.”
He tapped the car. “Not fancy is just perfect. I’ll bring the wine.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe just a Vernor’s for me.”
“Done.”
After Leo pulled off, I returned to the pharmacy. The pharmacist was on the phone, but she waved when I entered the door. A few minutes later she ended her call and faced me.
“I’m glad you came back in.” Worry coated her words, and her brow furrowed. “Your symptoms don’t sound like any type of virus I’ve heard of.”
Her reaction was disconcerting. “What’s wrong then?”
The woman leaned closer. “Have you been out drinking lately with strangers?”
My mind instantly went to Matt and Leo. “Why?”
“I don’t mean to scare you, but what you’re experiencing sounds a lot like the after effects of the date-rape drug.”
“Ketamine,” I mumbled.
“You’ve heard of it, then?”
“Yeah. Anything I can do to shake this feeling?”
The pharmacist patted my hand. “It’ll wear off. Did you go to the ER? Call the police?”
“No.” I had no idea that I might have been drugged, so why would I? “I’m sure you’re mistaken, but thanks for the information.”
“You’re welcome, miss. Please be careful.”
Needless to say, my head was still in a fog when I entered the laundromat. My mind raced. Did Leo drug me? I sat down on one of the vinyl seats at the window. Maybe it happened when I went to the bathroom, but I refused to believe Leo was responsible. After all, men who used date-rape drugs, rape the women. He didn’t touch me.
You don’t think…
No, I was sure nothing happened. It was all a weird coincidence. I couldn’t remember everything from last night, but it didn’t give me an excuse to point fingers. Common sense said to contact Matt, but I imagined how bad that call would go. He’d automatically assume Leo was responsible.
I had to calm down and stop jumping to conclusions. I’d finish my laundry and then go home for a nap. Leo would come by for dinner. Maybe we’d watch a movie, too. I took a deep breath and headed to the washing machine.
∞∞∞
Hours later, I woke up refreshed. It was nearly dark outside, and I needed to check on dinner in the slow-cooker. The delicious smells of Cuban beef filled the apartment. I had a tossed salad ready to go, a bottle of red wine was on the counter, and I set up everything to fry up some plantains when Leo arrived.
With everything I’d been through, I took some precautions. I’d serve the food and the drink. If I had to leave the room, I’d take my glass with me. Deep down, I didn’t want to believe that Leo would have drugged me. But after speaking to the pharmacist, I didn’t completely trust my judgment, let alone someone else.
Leo arrived shortly before seven o’clock. I looked down at my ripped and faded jeans and loose-fitting T-shirt and realized I should have changed. But I told Leo it was a casual dinner.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. Of course, he looked perfect in crisp, dark jeans and a button-down oxford shirt. No flower. No alcohol either. The night was already looking positive.
∞∞∞
Leo wiped his mouth, dropped the napkin onto his empty plate, and leaned back in his chair. “Great meal, Rachel.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“You’re a fabulous cook,” he added. “A man could get used to such good food.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “Trust me. This was simple. I’m not really the domestic type. It was something I tossed into the slow-cooker. Nothing fancy.”
“I beg to differ. You know the way to a man’s heart. In my book, it makes you better than a domesticated woman.” He ran a finger along the wineglass stem. “It makes you the perfect woman to marry.”
My heart stopped beating for a moment. What man talks of marriage on the second date?
Pushing to my feet, I picked up my glass and empty plate. I swallowed hard before laughing nervously. “Well, I don’t know about that assessment. Care for dessert? I have chocolate cake.”
Leo stood and picked up his dirty dishes too. “Rachel, is there something wrong?”
“No, no,” I said as I racked my mind, searching for a quick lie. “I’m not good with compliments. As a kid, I always found the negative in kind words. I’ve gotten better over the years, but still…”
He held up his hand. “I get it. I probably poured it on a little thick.”
“I’m glad you understand.” My lips curled up. “I’ll get that cake.”
Leo followed me into the kitchen and placed the dishes in the sink. “Can I pass on dessert? I think it’s time for me to go.”
“So soon? Was it something I said?”
“Shh.” He placed a finger over my lips. “You could say nothing that would make me run off.” Leo moved his hand to my chin and tilted it up. “Everything you say fascinates me. You’re the type of woman I could give my heart to and never leave.”
A lump stuck in my throat.
He leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful. Be sure to lock up. This isn’t a great place for a woman to live alone.”
I stood at the sink until the door closed behind Leo. My hands shook as I loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. What happened to two friends just enjoying each other’s company?
9
Things Escalate
Rachel
The next night I’d discover exactly what friends with benefits meant.
Thanks to my sudden illness, I had a lot of work to complete and was downtown quite late. By the time, I dragged my feet through my front door, all I wanted was sleep. Sure I was hungry, but cooking required effort, and I was too fatigued to even figure out a delivery order. Maybe after a little sleep I’d grab some leftovers… I planned on removing my makeup, getting undressed, and climbing into bed. But before I could clear the living room, somebody knocked.
Why now?
My gaze flicked to the ceiling as I exhaled loudly. I knew it wasn’t Crystal because I called her on the way home. And it wasn’t Matt either. I spo
ke to him during my lunch. He wanted another date, and I told him I’d think about it.
The knocking started up again. Unable to ignore it, I opened the door. The delicious smell of doughy pizza and marinara hit my nose. I looked up and saw Leo with a smile on his face and a box in his hands.
“I saw you come in. Figured you could use some food.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You can’t order delivery that fast.”
“Actually, it’s my dinner. I thought I’d share.”
Frankly, I was too tired to continue asking questions. Besides, it was Capri’s Pizza—my favorite pizzeria. “Would that happen to be their special?”
“Actually, it’s the Chicken Romano. Hope that’s okay.”
Buttery crust, tender pieces of chicken, tomatoes, onions, and mozzarella… It would definitely satisfy.
“Perfect.” My mouth watered as I stepped to the side. “Thanks, Leo. Do you remember where the plates and napkins are?”
“Sure do,” he said, walking past me. “Get comfortable, and I’ll set the table.”
I shook my head, counted my blessings for having a thoughtful man enter my life, and headed to my bedroom. Time to get out of my work clothes and heels.
∞∞∞
It only took me a few minutes to slip into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt. I twisted my hair into a messy bun and skipped the socks. No, it wasn’t sexy, but getting laid wasn’t on my mind that night. When I entered the living room, Leo surprised me by setting my dinette table and lighting a couple of candles. He stood near the window with his phone in hand. Soon the mellow sounds of Conya Doss played over my speakers.
Odd. I must have given him permission to piggyback on my network the last time he was there. Problem was, I didn’t remember doing it or the reason for it. Honestly, it was easier to go with it than worry about the situation.
Instead of a barrage of questions, I shot a grin in Leo’s direction. “How did you know I liked her music?”
