by Maryam Diaab
“Girl,” she said as if she had lost her breath just thinking about him. “He is a work of art, tall and muscular. Wendy, he is so confident and acts much older than his age.”
“He does sound yummy, but what’s going to happen when he makes a pass at you?”
“He won’t.” She answered so fast I knew she was lying.
“Sure, sure, whatever you say. Now back to reality. I saw Terrence yesterday,” I said, this time telling the truth.
“Did you? Where?”
“Starbucks. He was alone, if you’re wondering,” I falsely reassured my best friend.
“I talked to him last night, and he didn’t mention a thing,” she said, her voice becoming slightly suspicious.
He wouldn’t. After my broadcast yesterday morning, I knocked on Terrence’s door armed with a breakfast of scrambled eggs and cheese, homemade biscuits, bacon, grits, and fresh fruit that my personal assistant had picked up a half an hour before. After talking to Yvette several days before, I had decided to put my plan into action sooner rather than later. I knew that a good meal was the fastest way into Terrence’s bed. We ate, talked and even flirted a little. He was clearly appreciative of the meal, as well as the time I spent with him. As I was leaving, he kissed me on the cheek and asked if my morning visit was going to be a regular thing. With a seductive wink, I promised him it would be.
“Yvette, he probably just forgot to mention it. You know how hectic that man’s schedule is.”
“So you guys ran into each other?” I sensed her skepticism.
“No, I…” I paused a second. “Girl, my other line is clicking. Let me call you back,” I lied, quickly hanging up. I didn’t need Yvette asking too many questions, especially when my plan was taking shape so nicely.
Terrence
10
Yesterday something very strange happened. A knock at the door awakened me, and I almost didn’t answer. But even with my head buried in the down pillow, I could still hear the insistent pounding on my door. Finally, I reluctantly I pulled myself out of bed and shuffled into the living room. I unlocked the deadbolts and was greeted by a smiling Wendy. My woman’s best friend.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” she said, sashaying past with a bag in each arm. The distinct sweet, smoky smell of bacon teased my senses. “I hope you’re hungry because I made breakfast.”
“Wendy, what are you doing here? It’s only nine o’clock, and in case you didn’t know, I like to spend my days off sleeping in.”
Pouting suggestively, she put the bags on the kitchen counter. “Are you telling me that you don’t want any grits, eggs and bacon? Did I drive all this way for nothing?”
I walked over to the counter and peered inside the bags. “You didn’t have to drive very far. You work four blocks away,” I reminded her.
“Okay, you’re right. But I did have to delegate the purchase of this delicious meal to my assistant, and that took forever. She isn’t that bright. Now I’m trying to do what Yvette asked me to do, so stop being so difficult.”
“What did Yvette ask you to do?” I asked, taking a biscuit and going to the cupboard to get the syrup.
“She asked me, as her best friend, to take care of you and make sure that you weren’t over here wasting away.”
I know Yvette and I knew Wendy was lying.
She’s always had a thing for me. When we first met back at Wayne State, she was offended that I showed interest in her best friend rather than her. Once Yvette and I became a couple, she gave me the cold shoulder for months.
“So how have you been?” she asked, setting the table for two.
“I’ve been okay. Work keeps me pretty busy, so I don’t have much time to think about how much I miss Yvette.” I saw a flicker of jealousy pass over her pretty face.
“Don’t you two talk on the phone?”
“We try to every night, but it’s not the same. There’s nothing like having a warm body next to you at night,” I said, enjoying the view inside her blouse as she bent over to pour orange juice into champagne flutes for mimosas.
“I know what you mean,” she said. “I get so lonely over there in that big house all by myself. Yvette doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone, without a strong man to take care of her. She’s always had you.”
Wendy motioned for me to sit down at the table. I sat down and picked up a napkin, but before I could open it, Wendy took it from me and placed it in my lap, lightly touching my thigh. My skin tingled at her touch. The flesh is weak.
We ate in silence for a while, looking up only occasionally to exchange awkward smiles. “What are you doing for fun these days?” she asked me.
“Nothing much. I really don’t have time for fun with my job being so hectic.”
“Oh, come on now, Terrence. You have to get out and do something every once in a while. We should plan to hang out together sometime. Catch a movie or something.”
I nearly fell out of my seat. “What do you mean hang out sometime?”
“Oh, Terrence, I think you know what I mean,” she answered coyly, a sly smile on her face.
“No, Wendy, actually I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, I was just suggesting that if you ever wanted to get out sometime, then I would be more than happy to be your company. We have known each other a long time, and there is no reason that we can’t go out as friends.”
“Friends?” I asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.
“Of course, Terrence, what did you think I meant?” She sounded innocent, but the unmistakable look in her eyes was dangerous. I could tell that she had something up her sleeve, and though I knew it was wrong, I was nonetheless intrigued. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to know what Wendy was hiding and how it would unfold.
Yvette
11
It took me almost three hours to get ready for my date with Ajani. My hands kept shaking, and I couldn’t find a single thing to wear, though my closet was bursting with outfits with the price tags still attached. The first outfit, jeans and a baby tee, made me look like a sixteen-year-old trying to pass for twenty-one. I went through at least five outfits before I slipped on the first pair of jeans I had tried on and a black top, sexy and mature at the same time.
Styling my hair and applying my makeup was an adventure in itself. My hands shook as though I was having a seizure, and every time I tried to pick up the comb, it would slip right through my fingers. And when lining my eyes, I poked myself twice. But by the time eleven-thirty rolled around, I looked completely fabulous and there were no signs that I had nearly blinded myself.
On the drive to the party, my heart was beating so fast I was sure I was going into cardiac arrest. I dialed Ajani’s cellphone number seven times but didn’t push send once. I wanted to tell him that just the thought of meeting up with him was wrecking havoc on my health, so I wouldn’t be able to make it. I wanted to but I couldn’t; something was whispering softly into my ear, urging me to relax, to go out and have a good time. I needed to live a little. I decided to listen to that voice, so with sweaty, slippery palms, I drove across town to meet a man thirteen years my junior.
I heard the party from two blocks away. I pulled into the parking lot, turned the engine off, and rested my head on the steering wheel. I was unsure about what I was doing, but I knew for sure I would stick out like a sore thumb as soon as I stepped out of the car and into the party.
As a group of men walked by and peered inside my car, I saw my cellphone vibrating in the cup holder. Ajani’s number blinked across the screen until the voicemail symbol appeared. “Yvette, this is Ajani. It’s getting late and you’re not here yet, so I’m wondering if you’re still coming. Give me a call when you get this message.” He sounded so sweet and worried that I decided to put my insecurities aside and get out of the car.
“Hi,” I said to the handsome young man dressed in a purple and gold t-shirt, and fatigued army pants blocking the door. “I’m looking for Ajani Riley.”
He loo
ked me up and down and then licked his lips and smiled. “Well, I don’t see him right now, but I’m sure I can fulfill all your needs.”
I showed him my identification and paid the five-dollar cover charge. “No, thank you. I think I’ll just find Ajani.” I walked past him and into the building. The bass was thumping, throngs of bodies were clumped together dancing, and the thick, suffocating smell of marijuana filled the air.
In the middle of the dance floor, about twenty men dressed like the doorman formed a large circle. I spotted Ajani almost immediately. His fatigue hat was pulled down low over his eyes, and his smile lit up the entire dark space. The women who stood on the perimeter of the group were practically swooning over him. It was easy to see that among his peers Ajani Riley was a very hot commodity.
I stood on the outer edge of the dance floor watching for about five minutes before Ajani spun around and our eyes met. A huge smile spread across his face, while he hurried to pull a towel from his back pocket. “You made it,” Ajani said, leaning down and kissing my cheek, causing a jolt of electricity to run through my body unlike anything I had ever felt before, not even in the early years with Terrence.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to collect my thoughts. His hand was still resting on my waist, and the tingling I felt was making it difficult to focus. “I’m sorry, I was running a little late.” I looked around the room and noticed that about fifteen pairs of angry eyes were on Ajani and me.
“No problem, no problem. I’m just glad you made it. Can I get you a drink?”
I surveyed the room again; the women who were glaring minutes before were now whispering and pointing in our direction. “A strong drink sounds good.”
“Okay, cool. Why don’t you sit right here,” Ajani suggested, guiding me to an empty table near the dance floor. “I’ll be right back.”
I sat down and began tapping my foot to David Banner. Everyone seemed to be having such a good time, and their excitement was infectious. “Here you go,” Ajani said, handing me a pink drink in a purple plastic cup. If Wendy was here, she would die. “It’s a Long Island punch. I asked the bartender to make it extra strong.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at him and gulped half of the potent drink down. The fiery liquid burned my throat and boiled my insides, but it was worth the immediate feeling of calm and relaxation I felt.
“So are you ready to go? I know this quiet little lounge that stays open late—” Ajani was cut off by a pretty young thing wearing what looked like little more than a bathing suit.
“Hey, baby,” she said, slithering up to him and planting a wet kiss on his neck. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Ajani. Don’t you miss me?” She spoke to him but looked directly at me, and the smirk on her face and the fire in her eyes said it all. I was invading her territory.
“Lisa, how many times have I told you that we’re over?” Ajani said angrily. He seemed embarrassed by her behavior and gave me an apologetic look. As for me, I swallowed the last of my drink and signaled the bartender for another.
“So how does your aunt like the party so far?” Lisa asked, ignoring Ajani’s rejection and taking a jab at our obvious age difference. “It’s so sweet of you to bring her here to relive her youth.”
“I’m not his aunt,” I said, shifting in my seat uncomfortably.
“Older cousin?” she asked, smiling sweetly.
“She’s a friend,” Ajani said. Then he took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. I looked back and saw Lisa standing at the table looking embarrassed and confused.
“I’m sorry about that,” Ajani whispered in my ear, his lips grazing my skin and lingering there.
I felt slightly dizzy and off balance, thanks to the Long Island punch. But when Ajani wrapped his arms around me, I became comfortable instantly. “I see that you’re quite the ladies’ man.”
“Not really. Lisa’s just kind of crazy. She doesn’t like to take no for an answer, but we’ve been over for months.”
“Ajani, you don’t have to explain anything to me, I’m the one getting married in six months,” I said, a bit of regret in my voice. As premature as it was, I was beginning to like Ajani. His touch made me shiver, and his voice made parts of my body ache. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that I was lonely, but I had a sudden, intense urge to kiss him.
“Now as I was saying about the lounge…” His lips moved so close to mine, I couldn’t help myself. Placing my hand on the back of his neck, I stood on my tiptoes and moved in for the kill. It was as if the music had stopped and we were the only two people standing there. The room began spinning and all thoughts of Terrence and my life in Detroit disappeared. All I was conscious of was Ajani’s hand on my back. He looked down at me as if he had the ability to read my mind. Just as our lips were about to become one, I saw Lisa moving through the crowd with the swiftness of a gazelle. With practically a running start, Ajani’s ex bumped us from behind, causing my drink to splash on my jeans.
Yvette
12
“Are you heading to Detroit this weekend?” Jordan asked. I was at my desk admiring yet another bouquet of flowers from Ajani, this one a box of two dozen long-stemmed red roses with a card that read:
Can’t wait to see you again.
“Yes, actually I am. I have let these wedding plans fall by the wayside too long. If I’m getting married, then I need to get on the ball,” I added. She placed some papers on my desk and pulled up a chair. Jordan had been acting strangely all week. She hadn’t been her usual bubbly, talkative self.
“We’re friends, right?” she inquired, smiling slightly.
“Of course. You’re pretty much the only friend I’ve got here in Nashville. Why?”
“Because there’s something I need to ask you, and I want it to be off the record. It isn’t job related, just one friend talking to another.”
“Ok, let’s hear it,” I prompted, interest consuming me.
“You still plan on getting married?” she asked. It was almost as if I was being accused me of something, as if she knew what I had been doing a couple of days before.
“Of course I still plan to get married. What kind of question is that?” Jordan was the closest thing I had to a confidante in Nashville, but she was still my employee, and I wasn’t sure I appreciated her overstepping her bounds.
“Well, I’m only asking because I saw you out on Saturday with Ajani, and the two of you looked extremely comfortable together. You did not look like a woman planning a wedding.”
I stared at her, aware my mouth was slightly open. I was taken aback and embarrassed. “Are those flowers from Ajani or Terrence?” she asked, delving deeper.
There was no point in denying anything, so I answered her question. “The flowers are from Ajani. All the flowers have been from Ajani. And, yes, we did go out on one date, but that was it.” I was baring the secret I had been unable to share until now. “We had fun, and I like him as a friend. And that’s all. I really don’t know what I’m doing; I’m so embarrassed.” I was rambling on and on, not knowing how to stop.
“Yvette, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I didn’t come in here to accuse you of anything. I just thought you might want to talk about it, get an unbiased opinion on the situation.”
“Okay, Jordan, let’s hear it,” I demanded, bracing myself. “You think I looked ridiculous with Ajani and that seeing him is going to ruin any plans I have for marrying Terrence. You think I’m just an old woman trying to relive my youth. I’m a Stella.”
Laughing, Jordan jumped up and closed my office door. Mrs. Fisher, the principal at Nashville Prep, was insistent that all staff practice the highest level of professionalism at all times. Jordan and I knew that our conversation potentially could get us into a lot of trouble. “That is not what I think,” she said, smiling at me. “I think you looked happy with him, and you seemed to be having the time of your life. I was on the opposite side of the room and, after watching you and Ajani for a while, I saw some definite sparks.
Where there are sparks, a fire usually follows. I think you need to decide what you really want and go from there,” she advised, sounding much older and wiser than her twenty-two years.
“I know what I want and whom I want. As I said before, Ajani is a friend and that’s all.”
“Okay, okay, whatever you say. But if you ever need someone to talk to or bounce ideas off, let me know. I know how confusing things can be when you have too many options.”
Unlike Jordan, I did not consider Ajani an option. I did, however, consider him a distraction. He called me the day after our date and we talked for four hours. He told me about his brothers; his dad, who sounded rich and distinguished, perfect for Wendy; and school. I talked about my friends, job and grandmother. But whenever he asked me about Terrence, I changed the subject. I simply did not want to discuss him.
“So you had a good time last night, didn’t you?” Ajani asked at one point.
“I did have a good time, despite your ex-girlfriend completely ruining a very expensive pair of jeans.”
“You should feel flattered. It’s not very often that Lisa feels threatened by another woman. She must know how much I like you.”
“Is that right?” I asked, sounding like a smitten schoolgirl.
“That’s exactly right, and since you had such a good time, does that mean you’ll agree to another date?”
“You move quickly, don’t you? It hasn’t been a good twenty-four hours since we last saw each other.”
“As I see it, Yvette, I need to work fast before my magic wears off and you go back to giving me the cold shoulder.”
“No more cold shoulder, Ajani,” I said. “But I do want to make something clear. We are just friends. Nothing else can happen between us.”
“Who are you trying to convince here?”
“I’m not trying to convince anyone; I’m just telling you how it is.”
“Um hmm, good, so dinner this Saturday then?” he asked confidently.
