by Vera Roberts
Michelle and Kris are still going strong. In fact, they’re getting married as well. She’s still a virgin and is firmly waiting until marriage.
Me, on the other hand, is quite stupid waiting for a womanizing bachelor. Yeah, one of these things is not like the other.
I showered and got dressed in my boy shorts and tank top as I nuked a Lean Cuisine in the microwave. I patiently ate it as I stood in my kitchen, wondered why in the blue hell was I wasting my time? I have a walk-in closet full of designer clothing, expensive shoes and handbags, fancy jewelry and wait a minute…why am I complaining?
Hmm…let’s revisit some things.
I have Dior, Vince, Alice + Olivia, and Elie Tahari in my closet. My footwear boasts of Christian Louboutin, Gucci, and Stuart Weitzman. My handbags are Chloe, Fendi, and Givenchy. My bra and panties are La Perla, Bordelle, and Agent Provocateur. Oh, and I have a sleek silver Audi for keeps.
The hell am I crying over Ian for?
With that, I grabbed a bottle of Mad Housewife and poured myself a glass. What am I toasting to? I’m toasting to Ian’s stupidity.
I finished my third glass and felt real nice. I watched a dumb comedy on Netflix and was lit enough to laugh at some of the dumb jokes (they were a stupid funny) and no longer felt sorry for myself.
I decided Ian wouldn’t be the man for me because….oh who cares? I’m drunk.
I was about to retreat to bed when my cell phone rang. I glanced down at it and recognize Ian’s number. For some reason, I decided to answer it and this decision will set in motion a chain of events for the rest of my life.
“What is it?” I answered.
There was a pause from his end, followed by a breath. Clearly, he didn’t like my tone. Clearly, I didn’t give a damn. “Are you drunk?”
“Does it matter? I’m not going anywhere.” I yawned. “Good night, Ian.”
“Open your door.” He replied.
“Open my door?” I sat straight up. “Are you here?”
“Yes. I’m right outside.”
“What?” I got up from my sofa and looked into the peephole. Sure enough, Ian was right outside my door. I cautiously opened my door and saw a casually dressed Ian smiling back at me.
He wore an understated V-neck shirt and jeans. His outfit looked simple enough but I’m sure was very expensive.
I got a whiff his earthy cologne and almost lost my will to remain pure. I felt my knees buckle beneath me as my throat swallowed the last bit of desperation and horniness that somehow appeared out of nowhere…I don’t know, I don’t care it must be the wine.
A few seconds ago, I hated the man. Now, I just want him to come inside and cuddle with me.
“Can I come inside?”
A sane woman would’ve told him, ‘Hayle nah’ as she slammed the door in his face. When have I ever been sane? I don’t know what that is. “Sure.” I stand aside and let him inside.
Ian walked inside and stood with his hands inside his pockets. I could tell he just came back from a date with…again, why do I care?
“How can I help you, Ian?” I finally asked.
“Can I sit down?” He asked and I pointed to the sofa. Clearly, he’s here for a reason and it’s going to be a long night for one of us not named Ian. He sat down and casually interlocked his fingers, staring at the manicured nails briefly before he met eyes with me. “I wanted to talk to you about tension at work between us.”
“Tension?” I glanced up at the clock on my wall. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning on a Saturday night. I haven’t seen or heard from Ian since five o’clock Friday afternoon. This is what he really came over to talk to me about? “This couldn’t wait until Monday?”
“No, it couldn’t,” he replied, “I’m getting a vibe from you that isn’t pleasant and I wanted to get to the bottom of it before I encountered it on Monday. What’s going on?”
What’s going on is you leading me on, knowing nothing will ever happen. What’s going on is that I hated you and laughed in your face just a few minutes ago, only for that to magically not even happened the moment I saw your beautiful ocean blue eyes and heard your British accent warming my heart and soul.
What’s going on is I’m a blubbering idiot on the inside and am secretly happy you’re here, though I need to act like an annoyed bitch that you interrupted me watching a dumb, forgettable indie flick.
Of course, I told him the same blanket excuse every woman gives a man when he royally pissed her off. “Nothing.” I replied.
Ian shot a disbelieving look to me. It’s clear he’s heard that line before and knowing him, he probably didn’t care. I’m still not sure he cares. “If nothing is wrong, why did you let me in?”
“You were at my front door,” I’m annoyed at the mental game he played. I’m more annoyed at my willing participation. “It would’ve been rude for me not to let you in.”
“If you didn’t answer your phone, I would’ve assumed you were asleep and I would’ve gone home.” He brought up a point I didn’t think of. Shit. Now he knows I’m lying. “You answered the door because you wanted to talk to me about something.”
“Ian, if I wanted to talk to you about work-related items, it can wait until Monday. Nothing is that important for you to make a pit stop at my home at…” I glanced up at the clock. “…one in the morning.”
Ian calmly blinked at me, trying to decide if he was going to swallow the bullshit I just fed to him. “This isn’t a professional visit, Domi.”
I sensed it as much. “Then what is it?”
“I want to see if everything is okay with us,” he explained, “it seems you’ve been distant lately and I wonder if I played a part in that?”
“Would it matter if you did?” The boldness of three glasses of wine came out. “What difference would it make? I’m just sweet girl “Domi” you just take to galas, remember?”
Ian chuckled at me. I hated the feelings that arise in me when I hear his baritone voice. I want to sock him before I blow him. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
I have nothing to lose and I don’t give a… “You liked her,” I mentioned it to Ian.
“Sydney?” He asked and I nodded. “She’s a beautiful talent. I see her doing a lot of things.”
“No, you liked her as in you wanted to date her,” I pointed out. It was clear to everyone but Ian he’d taken a personal interest in Sydney. I was jealous as all shit but what could I do? I was just nice Domi to him. “You bought her a million-dollar loft.”
“It was a wedding present to her and her fiancée,” Ian countered. “He’s the owner of it now.”
Ian played a not-so small role in the breakup of Sydney and Dean. He also played a major role in getting them back together. Something tells me if Dean and Sydney had not reconciled, Ian and Sydney would’ve been in that loft.
Actually, correction; Sydney and Ian were already in that loft. I’m pretty sure they had sex. I’m also pretty sure Ian dumped her the moment he got what he wanted.
A sweeping emotion of pure jealousy erupted inside of me, though I kept my composure. That’s what he does – he wants to see how fast he could get into your panties and once he does, he’ll discard you once he’s done.
Yet, for two years…for two painfully long years, Ian never tried to sleep with me. Despite the numerous cuddle sessions…despite the Rolls Kiss…despite all of that, he never once made a move on me.
Ian looked at the ceiling and rubbed his chin. “I knew it wouldn’t work. We connected on a level that neither one of us has ever had with anyone else.” He began and I tried very hard to keep my tears at bay. “Once things become personal, it’s hard to separate it from professional.” His eyes met mine as he said it. Okay, so his ass was talking about me. Well, fuck you, too, bitch. “Would I have dated her? Probably. Would it have worked out? No.”
“But you’re still going to try with others, aren’t you?” I mentioned. Why do I do this to myself?
Ian briefly glanced down as he cont
emplated his answer. He knew whatever he said was going to hurt and he carefully chose his words. “Whatever happens in my life, you’ll always benefit from it first.”
How in the hell would I benefit from him sleeping with someone who’s not me? How have I benefitted from that the last couple of years? You know what? Fuck it. He just told me I was good enough to accompany him to those boring-ass galas where my real date of Emma was waiting for me.
Ian wants me to get over him, he doesn’t need to tell me twice. “Okay.” I replied. I stood up and straightened out my shirt. I need to go to wash my face, go to bed, and just do whatever the hell I need to do to get the absolute hell away from him now. “I’ll see you later, Ian.”
“Domi?” He called out my name and I stopped walking. “I came over to spend the night with you.”
I turned around to face him. Now I’m full of liquor and my tongue is quicker. “I hate that you think you can waltz into my life like shit never happened between us and I’m supposed open my arms and legs to you like a Snuggie?” I yelled. “Whatever! Bye, Felicia!”
“Domi, I respect you more than any woman in my life, only second to my mother and that’s a pretty high ranking for anyone. I don’t expect to sleep with you but if it happens, well, yes, that would be pretty awesome.” Ian added. “Second, who’s Felicia?”
“It’s a saying…” I gesticulated. “….like have you ever seen Friday?”
“Friday?” Ian shrugged.
“You know, Ice Cube? Chris Tucker?” I looked in his eyes for any validation and it was a blank slate. “Deebo? Big Worm?”
“Now, I recognize the first two but the last ones?” He asked. “Are these peoples’ real names?”
My shoulders relaxed and I smiled. He really was from a different world. “My point is, Ian, I can’t be your snuggle buddy each time you want it. If nothing will ever happen between us, we need to stop this. It’s only fair to me.”
Ian nodded. “Domi, the reason nothing ever happened because they needed to happen on your terms. Each time we’ve cuddled, I made a single move, your body shook because you were scared. You pushed my hands away more than you embraced them. You weren’t ready then and you’re still not. Believe me, I wanted to sleep with you a long time ago.”
I hate it when he’s right. I also hate it when he paid attention to my actions more than I did. I did push away his hands a few times. I didn’t realize it was every time. It explains why he continued to date every bimbo under the sun while I was the only one he wanted to represent the Ferguson family with him in public.
I’m not saying that’s okay because it’s not. We’re both at fault in different ways. But it also became clearer to me while I thought Ian was wasting my time, I was also wasting his. “I’ll sleep with you tonight. I’m ready.” I walked back to him and straddled Ian. I held his face within my hands and studied his ocean blues. “We can do this tonight.”
Ian’s hands held my waist before they moved to my ass and I felt every bit of my virginity slowly dissipating under his touch. He, however, shook his head. “Not tonight. I wouldn’t have sex with you drunk. I’ll sleep with you to make sure your hangover isn’t too much.” He managed to get up and carried me to the bedroom. He stripped down to his boxer briefs and got in bed with mb me.
He caressed my face as we laid next to each other, looking into each other’s eyes. There was a calm and stillness between us I’d never felt before and I wondered if it was already there.
Ian kissed me so softly, I wondered if it really happened. He kissed my forehead, my cheek, and the side of my lips. It was sweet, intentional, and quietly romantic. I softly moaned as I awaited his lips to touch mine but they never came. He knew if that happened, I would want to go further and he respected me enough to stop.
“I never asked you to wait for me, Domi.” I felt his soft breath against my lips and silently moaned. Once again he took my breath away and he barely touched me. “I only wanted you to be with someone you truly loved and wanted to be with.”
Ian doesn’t know he’s the only person I want to be with. He also doesn’t know it’s a hopeful dream I have that’ll never come true. “I know.”
“There’s a reason this has taken so long between us and it’ll make sense very soon, I promise. For now, you need to sleep.” He softly kissed my forehead. “We’ll revisit this conversation soon.”
As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered what he meant by soon. Little did I know soon was literally the next week.
Three
There’s nothing like a ‘Everything’s Got to Go!’ sale.
I can get great discounts on very expensive items. I can find the best things at minimum cost and be glad in later years that I managed to get such a bargain.
That would be so true if the sale didn’t apply to my mother’s items.
Candy felt Sam was spending too much money for a storage unit so she wanted to sell off my mother’s items. I’m lucky I had the law on my side and my mother was smart enough to create a will in my favor when she died. Adrienne received money, which she used for hormone treatments. I, on the other hand, received all of our mother’s belongings.
Now Candy felt six years was too long and she wanted to have ‘Let’s Bury This Dying Bitch Once and For All’ sale.
Truth was, Candy had been in the picture longer than she and Sam wanted to admit. When my mother was dying in bed, Sam often disappeared for hours at a time, with no explanation as to where he was except to ‘clear his head.’ Candy had the decency to not show up at my mother’s funeral but she made her grand entrance into my life only three years later.
I would really love to say it was a jealousy thing between us – I don’t like the fact I’m no longer my dad’s number one gal. It’s more than that. I think Candy and Sam honestly just want to push whatever familial connection Sam has. He’s not even that close with his brothers and sisters anymore.
“So, you’re going to take all of this?” Sam opened the storage unit. It was packed with everything covered in blankets, newspaper, and bubble wrap. It would take me forever to go through everything to see what was worth keeping and what I could get rid of.
I swallowed my emotions. My mother wasn’t a hoarder and she would cringe to see I would take all of her possessions. But I needed to preserve my mother’s memory somehow. “I’ll take it,” I quietly replied.
“Good. You need to make arrangements and do it this week.” He barked at me but I didn’t look to face him. I had one week to make a miracle happen and that wasn’t nearly enough time. “Come Saturday, whatever is still in here is going in the garbage.”
I’m convinced Sam never loved my mother at all. I can’t understand how someone could be so cold and heartless to completely disregard his wife. I always had a feeling my maternal grandmother was just nice to Sam and never cared for him, though she loved me and Adrienne to bits. Now I’m starting to see why.
“Sister?” Sam called me.
“I got it. Saturday.” I nodded and stared at the piles of stuff before me. I had my work cut out for me.
“Here you go,” he handed me the keys, “remember I need all this shit cleared out.”
“I got it,” I firmly replied. “I perfectly heard you the first time.”
There was a silent tension between us before I closed the storage unit and locked it. I began walking towards my car when Sam stopped me. “How’s Ethan?”
“Ian is fine,” I replied, “I’ll tell him you send your regards.”
“You’re not his type,” Sam warned me. “He’s taking you out to these fancy places but he can do that with any woman. If you lost some weight, he might find you attractive.”
That was always a sticking point with Sam. I was always too big for his taste. I never quite understood why men in general have to sexualize every woman they encounter, regardless of familial relation, but it’s maybe it’s not for me to understand.
I’m sure if you were to compare me in a row of women, I would be considered avera
ge size. I’m also quite sure if you compared me to supermodels, I would be a fat ass. I can’t win for losing.
Instead of having a witty reply, I held my tongue. I needed to save my energy to work on my mother’s storage unit and I only had four days to do it in. “I’ll let you know how it goes by the end of the week, Sam.”
~~~~~
“Make sure the car is ordered on Saturday. I’ll double check with the designers to make sure your gown is ready along with the hair and makeup artists. I’ll be busy all week at the restaurants as we’re preparing for the Taste of LA coming up.” I struggled to keep up with Ian’s orders as he recited them off. “I’m going to be busy in meetings all week so unless it’s urgent, do not have anyone contact me.”
