Breaking All My Rules

by Trice Hickman

  Relax. She’s just a female, he told himself. But deep beyond the surface of his practiced machismo, Jerome knew she wasn’t just any female. There was something special and very different about Stanford 145. He knew that by the gentle look in her eyes, the soft expression that had formed at her lips when she smiled, and the way his heart beat like the ticking of a clock at the thought of her.

  Once they were seated inside the courtroom, he was a little disappointed that he was a full five seats away from her. But, he reasoned, it was best. That way he could check her out in a more discreet manner.

  When she crossed her long, shapely legs, revealing smooth skin and thick thighs, he felt the hot sensation return below his waist. He had to will himself mentally not to give in to the feeling or the urge to move closer to her. He took a deep breath, regained his composure, and refocused his eyes, directing them up to her face. She was a naturally beautiful woman whose dewy brown skin was flawless. Her profile was regal; her features all aligned in perfect symmetry. He knew that as fine as she was, she had to have a man.

  He looked down at her left hand and didn’t see any hardware on her ring finger. That observation gave him hope, but it didn’t remove the fact that she might still have a man. Gazing at her, he honestly didn’t see how she could not.

  As Jerome continued to study her, his mind led him to a place he didn’t want to go, but he had to be real with himself. Given the type of woman she appeared to be—educated, wealthy, and cultured—even if she didn’t have a man, he wondered if he really stood a shot with her.

  Self-reflection wasn’t a new concept for him. Ever since he made the promise to clean up his life ten years ago, he’d read countless books and watched dozens of DVDs that put him on a road to self-discovery and personal understanding. But even though he was a realist, he still surprised himself with the thought that he might not measure up in a woman’s eyes. He had never questioned or been insecure about his desirability to the opposite sex until that very moment.

  Thanks to his good looks, natural charm, and sex appeal, Jerome had never wanted for female attention, and he’d never shied away from it, either. But now he felt unwelcome insecurity slowly invade his mind.

  He examined the beautiful woman’s expensive-looking handbag, sparkling diamond tennis bracelet, and the sophisticated manner in which she carried herself. Those were all signs that she had high standards and certain expectations. She goes into a nice, cushy office every day, probably runnin’ things, he thought. She ain’t about to fool with a brothah who hauls trash and works with his hands.

  Jerome leaned back in his seat and quietly took another deep breath, inhaling her scent to inject some needed clarity into his thoughts. He had to remind himself of who he was and not who he wasn’t. He wasn’t the knucklehead who’d dropped out of high school his eleventh grade year. He wasn’t the irresponsible player who’d run through women like springwater. He wasn’t the stubborn street hustler who’d almost gotten himself killed over some rocks in a back alley. Those lowly days were long behind him. He was a new man. He was determined to get his contracting license and start his own business. He was studying late each night to earn his GED. He was a dedicated father. He was a good son. He was a loyal friend. And he, too, had high standards and expectations.

  He loved a challenge, but to be with a woman like Stanford 145, he knew he had to be correct and precise in his approach.

  Just as he began to believe he had a chance with her, something happened that further erased his insecurities. He glimpsed at Stanford 145 and saw that she was looking at him, too. She tried to hide the fact that she was checking him out from the corner of her eye, but he caught her red-handed.

  Then, suddenly, just as she’d dropped her smile out in the hallway and turned her attention back to her phone, she moved her eyes away from his direction and concentrated on the instructions being given by the court clerk.

  What’s up with this woman? he thought. She was quickly becoming a puzzle that he wanted to solve.

  Bringing his mind back to the present, Jerome turned his large truck onto his crowded street in search of a parking space. Finding a place to park on a Saturday afternoon was like trying to find a doughnut at a fashion show. It was damn near impossible. After securing a spot around the corner from his building, Jerome walked up to his unit. Once he reached his door, he slipped his key into the lock and went inside his apartment.

  Standing in the middle of his living room, looking around at all 650 square feet of his two-bedroom apartment, Jerome wondered what the woman in red would think of his living conditions. “I know her crib is tight,” he said to himself. But just as he’d done yesterday in court, he took a deep breath and realigned his thoughts. Right now he couldn’t focus on Stanford 145, because he needed to get ready to see his son.

  Jamel’s party was set to start in another three hours, giving him just enough time to make a tuna sandwich, take a shower, grab a quick nap, and get dressed before heading out the door.

  The thought of having a teenage son made Jerome’s chest puff with pride, especially given that Jamel was growing into such a fine young man. Even though Kelisha was loud as hell and as obnoxious as a pit bull, Jerome had to give her credit; she was a good mother to their son, and her demeanor hadn’t rubbed off on him. At thirteen, Jamel was more responsible and mature than some adults Jerome knew. He made good grades at the private school he attended on scholarship, he was respectful to authority figures, and he was kind to his peers. Jamel was the kid he wished he had been at that age.

  Twenty minutes later and fresh from the shower, Jerome set the alarm clock beside his bed and settled in for a nap. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought about the surprised look that he knew would come to Jamel’s face when he opened the gift he’d gotten him, his very own checkbook, linked to an account with his name on it that had $250 as its balance.

  “That’s my boy,” Jerome whispered to himself. He turned over, doubled his thin pillow beneath his head, and closed his eyes, preparing to drift off into the clouds. As his thoughts faded to a faraway sleep land, the last thing his waking mind remembered was seeing a beautiful woman standing before him in a bright red dress.

  Chapter 9

  It was early afternoon, and Erica was immersed in her usual Sunday routine, sitting at her desk, going over paperwork so she could get a jump on the week ahead. She was trying to take her mind off deadlines, swag bags, and her frustration about her lonely love life.

  Ever since Friday night she’d been thinking about the endearing image she had seen—Ashley and Jason walking hand in hand off into the distance. It was a moment that had touched her and made her heart fill with happiness for her best friend. But it had also struck a chord of melancholy within her soul when she thought about the fact that out of all the men she’d dated, she couldn’t think of a single relationship that had made her feel the love expressed in Ashley and Jason’s simple gesture.

  “Just once, I’d like to know love,” Erica whispered, feeling a sorrowful catch in her throat.

  But she knew she couldn’t sit around moping and feeling sorry for herself, so she turned her thoughts from what she wanted and aimed them toward what she needed to do. She had to get to work so she could smooth out the problems at Opulence that would be facing her this week. In addition to tackling the issue with the swag bags, she had to conduct interviews so she could replace the employee who had quit last week without notice.

  An hour later, Erica was still busy working when her phone rang, jolting her from the stack of papers on her desk. Her face lit up when she saw that it was Ashley. She hadn’t spoken with her friend since their near-disastrous girls’ night out at Vidalia. She had been wanting to know how the rest of the evening played out after they left the restaurant, but she knew she needed to give Ashley time to recalibrate and sort things out in her mind.

  “How’s it going?” Erica asked, bypassing her usual hello.

  “Honestly, I’m really not sure.”

&n
bsp; Ashley explained that she and Jason had gone back to his house and had spent the rest of the night talking about the reality of their present and their hopes for their future—together. They had verbalized some hard truths and had revealed some deep-seated insecurities and hang-ups about race, family, and expectations on both their parts. By the time the sun rose the next morning, they were lying in each other’s arms with a mixture of hope and trepidation for what they were about to get themselves into.

  “Sounds like you two are approaching things the right way,” Erica said. “Being up-front and honest now will save you a lot of heartache on the back end.”

  “Yes, and that’s what I’m worried about. The back end. I’m not sure there’s going to be one.”

  “Do you love him? I mean, really, really love him?”

  Ashley took a moment, pausing as she let out a long, heavy sigh. “Jason is the only man I’ve ever been with who’s made me even consider the idea of marriage, let alone make a formal commitment to do it. So yes, I love him. But I also know that it takes more than just love to make a marriage work.”

  Erica nodded on her end of the phone. “I’m convinced that everything happens for a reason, and even though that incident Friday night was messy, it spurred a conversation that you two obviously needed to have.”

  “That’s the same thing I was thinking. And, Erica, I want to thank you for what you said to me. I needed to hear those words and reaffirm who I am.”

  “You’re a fantastic person, and I hope you know that.”

  “Of course I do! And by the way, you left out that I’m awesome, beautiful, and fierce!” Ashley laughed. “But all jokes aside, sometimes we can lose sight of things . . . lose our way. Sometimes we have to be reminded of how special we are. Girl, I’m so glad you did that for me.”

  “I’m always gonna have your back, just like you always have mine. You helped me through everything that happened with Claude, and I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

  Ashley let out an exasperated breath. “I still can’t believe his fake ass had the nerve to slither up to our table while he was on a date, and then lie about it.”

  “Well, he did eventually come clean and admit that she was more than a colleague.”

  “Yeah, but only after you busted him for trying to front. Deceitful bastard!”

  “I’m sorry I mentioned his name.”

  “That makes two of us. And while we’re on the subject—”

  Erica cut her off in mid-sentence. “Before you say another word or ask again, I’m over him for real. I just get lonely sometimes. But I’m not walking back across that bridge. He’s clearly moved on, and I need to as well.”

  “When, Erica?”

  “Now.”

  Ashley sucked her teeth and sighed again. “How can you do that when you won’t even make time to clear your schedule for a date, or go out someplace where you’ll meet someone?”

  “I told you about everything that’s going on at Opulence and the deadline I’m under for Fashion Week. I need to take care of business first. Then I’ll worry about finding a date.”

  “At the end of the day everything is going to work out just fine. The swag bags will be a tremendous hit, you’ll get beaucoup orders from coast to coast for Paradise, which will become the hot new must-have beauty item, you’ll be featured in a national magazine that’ll have a big picture of you cheesin’ in front of Opulence, and guess what?”

  “What?” Erica asked excitedly, thinking about all the great things that were about to come.

  “After all the accolades and frenzy, you’ll end up doing exactly what I know you’re doing right now, which is sitting behind that big ol’ desk in your home office on a lonely afternoon, all by yourself, with no one to share your accomplishments with except your spreadsheets.”

  There was a brief moment of silence.

  “Ouch, Ash. That really hurt.”

  “It was supposed to. You need tough love, and I’m going to give it to you because I love you.” Ashley paused before she said her next words. “Please don’t live a life full of regrets. You’re much too brilliant and fabulous to fall into that trap.”

  That evening, as Erica sat on her couch, eating a bowl of mint chocolate-chip ice cream all by herself, she thought long and hard about her life, and it occurred to her that she didn’t like being alone. During the day, when she was out and about at Opulence, attending meetings, running errands, or hanging out with friends, she was surrounded by liveliness and fun. But when she came home to her castle of a row house in the trendy Dupont Circle neighborhood at the end of the day, there was nothing. No one to talk to. No one to laugh with. And no one to hold.

  “I’ve got to make a change,” Erica whispered aloud. She rose from the couch and dumped her ice cream down the sink before heading upstairs to her bedroom.

  After a quick shower she was in bed, setting her alarm clock. She knew that change could be unpredictable and full of ups and downs, so if she was going to start a new journey, she needed a good night’s sleep to prepare for it. She turned onto her side and snuggled her head against her fluffy pillow as she drifted off into dreamland, envisioning a new life for herself and the beautiful Great Dane, whom she hoped would be a part of it.

  Chapter 10

  Erica rose from bed before her alarm had a chance to make a sound. She was glad that on this predawn Monday morning, her excitement, rather than a wretched nightmare, had called her from her slumber. In fact, she was so eager for the day to begin that she practically leapt out of bed. Starting off the day with hope instead of night sweats was a welcome change.

  Erica had been secretly excited about today since last Friday afternoon, but she’d refused to acknowledge it or give in to the emotion until her phone conversation with Ashley yesterday afternoon.

  Ashley’s pointed yet caring words were still lingering in Erica’s mind as she walked into her kitchen and turned on her coffee machine. Instead of thinking about Claude and lamenting their failed relationship, she thought about the tall, dark, handsome stranger she’d encountered last week. Knowing she would see him again in just a few hours made her tingle inside. But then, suddenly, her smile went flat when she thought about something that until now had not crossed her mind. There was a very real possibility that he had a girlfriend, or maybe even a wife.

  “Damn!” Erica hissed aloud.

  She didn’t remember seeing a wedding band on his finger, but she knew that didn’t mean a hill of beans. Plenty of married men walked around not wearing their wedding ring. But even if he wasn’t married, she knew that a man as chocolaty handsome and devastatingly fine as the Great Dane probably had more women than he could handle. There were plenty of women out there who were still into man sharing and wouldn’t mind splitting his time with others so long as they got their slice.

  “What was I thinking?” Erica asked herself. She finished her coffee and slowly walked back to her bedroom. She felt slightly disappointed, but she knew she had to keep the faith, because even if the beautiful Great Dane wasn’t the man for her, there was someone out there who was.

  Erica strode with focus, her head held high, as she made her way toward the jury room. She was glad that she was the first juror to arrive. She was always prompt in everything she did, a character trait she had inherited from her father. She knew that being there bright and early would give her time to settle in, compose her thoughts, and prepare for the day ahead, and more important, it would allow her to buttress her resolve to keep her desire for the Great Dane in check.

  Erica looked up when she heard the door open.

  “Well, look at us. Aren’t we the early birds!” the old woman practically chirped as she walked inside. She took a seat right beside Erica, smelling like lavender talcum powder. “I didn’t get a chance to formally introduce myself last week. My name is Maudelene Feinstein, but my friends call me Maude.”

  Erica smiled and extended her hand. “I’m Erica Stanford. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Maude
.”

  “Likewise. I know you’re not too excited about being here, but I sure am. I’ve been looking forward to this all weekend. It’s gonna be so interesting.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Maude winked. “Honey, I know I am. Matter of fact, I bet there’ll be just as much excitement in this jury room as there will be in the courtroom.”

  Erica raised her brow.

  “From my thirty-five years of experience in the classroom, I know what happens when you put a bunch of different people together in one room. Everyone has a different opinion, and everyone thinks theirs is right. What will make this interesting is that we all have to come to the same conclusion. You can’t help but have some excitement from that.”

  Erica nodded in agreement. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, Ms. Maude. I guess you’re right.”

  Erica and Maude continued to chat as one by one, the other jurors slowly began to fill the small room, taking their places around the conference table set for twelve. Each time the door opened and a new person walked in, Erica felt her heart jump a tiny bit, thinking it might be him. And each time it wasn’t, she felt a small tug in her stomach, mixed with something she couldn’t place. Finally, nearly twenty minutes after the time they were supposed to have arrived for duty, the Great Dane walked through the heavy wooden door.

  Although Erica had been bracing herself for his entrance and willing her emotions to remain calm, he managed to hijack the breath straight out of her lungs. Her heart quickened with excitement. Her hands trembled with anticipation. And despite her best efforts to control them, she felt the same butterflies that had stirred inside her when she first laid eyes on him last Friday.

  She watched the beautiful man as he walked into the room, slow and self-assured, as if he were right on time and not a minute late. His bold confidence made her smile to herself as she leaned back in her chair, taking inventory of him.