“It is. And not for me. It’s because of the girls. Some of them already have so much disappointment in their lives and this is just another one of those things.”
“I’m sorry, Angelique. Just listening to you, I can hear your passion.”
“I think it’s because I haven’t been blessed with children yet and I’ve been fine because these girls are my daughters. But unless I hit the lottery this week….” I stopped. “You know what, that’s it. I can’t do anything about this and I need to stop crying and complaining and make plans to salvage something for next weekend. Just work with what I have.”
He was so quiet for a moment, I thought the call had dropped. “Hello?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I’m sorry, I was just….”
“You know what. You’re at work and I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“I called you, remember?”
“Yes, and I appreciate it. But still, I know you have to get back to work.”
“I do,” he said as if those were not the words he wanted to say. “But I need to make sure you’re all right before I hang up this phone.”
I smiled. “I am.”
“I need to see it for myself.”
My smile turned into a chuckle. “Really? And how are you going to do that? Facetime?”
“No, nothing virtual will be good enough. I’m going to see when we meet for a drink after work.”
When will I see you again?
He said, “So, is that okay?”
I hadn’t answered his question in the game, but I was going to do it now because this was real life.
“Yes, that’s okay,” I said. “It’s more than okay.”
“Perfect. Lock my number in. Then just text me or call around four-thirty or so, and we’ll figure out where we want to go. And try not to worry. We’ll sit down and brainstorm some alternatives so that you’ll be able to keep the conference. Don’t cancel it yet.”
My smile was so broad when I said, “Okay,” and then, “I’ll see you later.”
When I clicked off the phone, I couldn’t believe it. I’d answered his call in tears, and now I was hanging up with the biggest smile.
My eyes rose and settled once again on my wedding photo and for a moment, I wondered if I’d given Blu the right answer.
But I was just getting together with Blu for drinks and really, this was a business meeting. He was going to help me since Preston had no time. And why would I want to go home after work today? I would just be sitting there alone, wallowing in worry.
Nope…I was going to go out and have drinks.
Just the thought pumped energy into my veins. I sprang up from my chair and marched from my office, in search of Camille. I wasn’t sure what it was, but we had some work to do.
CHAPTER 10
Blu
I needed a special place because this meeting with Angelique was going to be just that — special. Yeah, it was all about business, but for me, that had just been an excuse. I’d wanted to see her again and I felt like she wanted to get together, too, but she was afraid for some reason. That was why she hadn’t answered me when I asked when could I see her? Well, the perfect reason had been given to us.
So when I hung up from Angelique this morning, I hit up Lamar, right away, told him that I was hooking up with Angelique, but that I needed the perfect spot.
“Dawg, you gotta check out B’s Wine Bar. I told you about that place.”
“Oh, yeah.” Then, I rushed my friend off the phone to check it out on the Internet.
Lamar was right. B's Wine Bar was this hip, new spot in Missouri City, that had nothing but four-star reviews. But what was best was that it was on the other side of town. Angelique lived in Cypress and I was in Kingwood, which meant it was a good forty-five minute drive for both of us. So the risk of running into someone we knew was minimized. Not that we wouldn’t be able to explain it since this was a business meeting. But we wouldn’t have to worry about how this meeting looked — we could both lean back and chill…and talk business.
Those were all of my thoughts as I stepped up to the door of B’s Wine Bar and walked inside. I paused at the door and took in the atmosphere. The candle-laden tables were perfect whether you were just hanging with friends, or wanted something more close up, intimate. The soft sounds of jazz, the slight scent of lavender — yeah, this place was the set up for the hook up. It was definitely grown and sexy.
It took me two seconds to spot Angelique because even though the place was packed with people, she stood out as if a halo glowed above her. Seriously, when I waved and then, she waved back, I thought I heard harps playing. For real. It was a good thing I wasn’t with Lamar or any of my other boys right now because I would have lost all my testosterone points.
I strolled toward the bar where Angelique was sitting, my stride slow, to match the atmosphere and to not give away how much I wanted to just run up and hug this chick.
She stood before I reached her and I almost stumbled. She was wearing a business suit. Just a straight-up skirt with a jacket. But that skirt (I think women called it a pencil skirt) fit her right. Showed her slender, toned gymnast body. As I was checking her out, she opened her arms to me.
“What’s up?” I whispered as I held her, and wanted to inhale more than just her fragrance. But I pushed that thought aside. This was all business.
Leaning back, I said, “Wow, you got here early. I thought I was going to beat you. That was my plan.”
"Yeah, but after the day I had, I guess I really needed that drink.” A smile crossed her face that warmed me like a thousand suns.
I motioned for her to sit back down, and then I slid into the seat next to her. “I’m so sorry about what you’re going through, but before we talk about that, have you ordered?”
"Yeah.” She nodded. “I ordered a Moscato.”
At that right moment, a waitress walked up and asked what I wanted. “Can I have a house wine?" I took out my wallet and handed her my credit card. "And please, put her wine on my tab and keep it open.”
The waitress nodded and when I turned back to Angelique, she said, “Thank you.”
I waved my hand letting her know paying for her drink was nothing. I said, “For real, are you okay? I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.” I didn’t tell her that wasn’t a new phenomena in my life. She’d consumed my mind from our first Words With Friends game when she’d whipped me by sixty-four points.
She shook her head. “I wish I could say that I was okay.” She sighed. “But I’ve been working the phones all day, talking to our current sponsors and people who’ve sponsored us before. But….” She didn’t finish, she didn’t have to. “I guess tomorrow I’ll figure out how to pare it back. One decision I’ll have to make is whether I’ll email the girls now or just wait until we get closer to next weekend so they have fewer days of disappointment. I just don’t know.” This time, when she shook her head, she massaged her temples and I almost had to sit on my hands so I didn’t jump up and pull her into my arms. I just wanted to comfort her.
She said, “No matter when I tell them, I just hate breaking this news.”
“So, let’s talk about this.” I leaned back and unbuttoned my suit jacket. “Let’s see if there’s anything you didn’t think about. First, though, tell me about your foundation and what you’re doing next weekend.”
When I’d sat down in front of Angelique at Starbucks, I couldn’t tell what I loved most about her. Was it the way she wore her hair in a curly bob (I only knew that because one of my coworkers wore her hair like that and I loved it)? Or her nose that upturned, a bit at the tip? Or her lips that made me want to suck them before I kissed them?
I hadn’t been sure then, but I was certainly sure now — it was her eyes. I asked about her foundation and her brown eyes danced and asked me to dance with her. She told me all about Black Girls Magic — I told her I loved that name — and why she started her foundation. She told me about the big conference she had planned - from the Fr
iday night social, to the Saturday workshops, to the gala to wrap the weekend up, and where she planned to present ten girls with money (a little pocket change she called it) for college. It wasn’t her words that convinced me of her conviction. It was the way her heart beat for them, right there, in front of me.
She talked through almost two glasses of wine, giving me details that I noted in my mind because I had my own plan formulating. It had come to me from the moment I spoke to her this morning. But first, I had to get a feel of what she wanted to do and where she was going.
I’d researched Black Girl Magic, so she wasn’t telling me anything new. I didn’t tell her that, though. Because I needed to get this from her perspective.
“Something will work out," I said. “I’m sure of it because you can’t have your kind of passion and not have it pay off for these young ladies.”
“I don’t know. To be honest, even if I had the twenty-five thousand, it was going to be tight; I would have had to put in about five-thousand of my own money, but that would’ve been cool because I believe in this so much.” She sighed. “Maybe this was just too ambitious of a project.”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve been in business eight years. I’m surprised you haven’t had weekend programs like this already.”
“I do a lot of fundraisers, but now that we have girls in college, I don’t want to drop them. So that’s kinda stretched our finances thin.”
“Well, it may be time for you to think about expanding.”
She laughed, that soft chuckle that was her weapon. I swore she was trying to do me in. She said, “I’m just trying to make it through the next weekend and you’re talking about expanding.”
Leaning forward so that I could be closer to her, I said, “You may have to expand your thinking because that will expand your finances.” When she opened her mouth to protest, I held up my hands. “But, that’s something we’ll talk about later.“
“Good, because this is what I’ve been talking about all day and now, I’d like a break,” she held up her empty glass, “and I’d like some more wine.”
I chuckled, motioned toward the waitress, ordered another glass for both of us and then scooted my chair a little closer. Because business was over. She’d just adjourned the meeting. I said, “So no more talk about work.”
“Nope.” She smiled and I knew that I was right. This girl was going to slay me with her charm. “Anything but work.”
“I agree. So let’s talk about you.” I paused because I wasn’t sure how deep she was ready to go in this friendship, but still, I presented the question that I’d wanted to know. I said, “Can I ask you something?”
At that moment, the waitress returned with our second glasses of wine. But that little interruption didn’t deter Angelique from answering my question. When the waitress left us alone, she raised her glass to her lips and said, “Sure, ask me whatever you want. We’re friends, right?”
I nodded. “Friends with a connection.”
She warmed me with that laugh again. But I stayed focused and asked what I wanted to know. “Is your husband one of those philanderers?"
Her smile left quickly, and in its place, her words spilled out, “No, he’s not,” she said with such certainty. “Though no one ever knows for sure, but if I had to bet, I’d say no. Preston has been totally faithful to me.”
I nodded. Not sure why I wanted to go deeper. I mean, it was clear something was wrong at home because I mentioned her husband and her smile dipped. But I wasn’t sure how I could ask without sounding like I was trying to get all up in her business.
She said, “But he does something far worse than cheating.”
I released a deep breath. I guess I didn’t have to ask the question at all. Whether it was the wine or Angelique just talking, she told me everything — and more — that I wanted to know. She explained how her husband had started his own financial services and investments firm. I’d known that from the research I’d done on her. But what I didn’t discover through the Internet was that once her husband and his partners opened that company, it became all about the company and less about his wife.
“It’s so frustrating because Preston and I….” She paused and her eyes were glassy. I wasn’t sure if that was the wine or her memories. “We used to be….” Another pause, and this time, she shook her head. “But now….”
She hadn’t completed a sentence, but she’d told the whole story.
I lifted my glass to my lips and took a long sip that allowed my eyes to roam. My glance went on its own adventure, starting at the shoes she wore (I loved a woman in heels), to the skirt that rose right above her knees (those legs), and I kept going up and up and up, taking in her tapered waist and pausing for a moment (but not long enough to be disrespectful) at the way her breasts rounded out her white tailored shirt.
By the time I placed my glass on the table, I was the one shaking my head. “Just goes to show you that just because you have gold doesn’t mean that you’re smart enough to know that you’re rich.”
She giggled, then said, “Huh?”
“That’s something my grandmother used to say.”
“Translation, please.”
“Your husband is a fool.”
That sent her into another fit of giggles. “I would agree.”
“No, I’m serious. I mean, I don’t mean any kind of disrespect, but you’re fine.”
“Thank you,” she said, fighting to hold her laughter inside.
“So, I don’t get it. I don’t understand how a man could come home to all of that,” I made a round motion with the palm of my hand over her face, “and not want to…can I be frank?”
She nodded and giggled some more.
I said, “Come home to all of that fineness and not want to jump your bones.”
She did that laugh thing again and my body responded. But this time, I wasn’t thinking about how she made me feel. I was thinking about Angelique and how this morning, she’d been in tears. But with me, she could laugh.
She said, “I guess my husband doesn't think I'm fine.”
I wiped my smile from my face, and turned my tone serious. "Oh, I'm so sorry.”
She blinked, confused. “Sorry about what?"
"You didn't tell me your husband was blind."
This time, her giggles were so loud a few people turned our way. But I didn’t mind. None of them knew what I knew. This woman was fighting on all fronts in her life, it seemed. She was fighting for her foundation and she was fighting for her husband’s attention. If she wanted to laugh all night, I was going to help her do it.
She said, “That was a good one.”
I shrugged. “I was only trying to be half-funny. Because on the serious tip, I don’t understand your husband because if I had a woman like you waiting for me at home every night….”
That was all I had to say and I meant that. Sitting here with Angelique chatting, laughing like this — this was something I used to do with Monica. This used to be the reason why I had to race to the office in the morning (because I didn’t want to leave my wife) and then, I had to race home in the evening (because I couldn’t wait to get to my wife.) Sitting here with Angelique — this was the life I had, the one I wanted.
But this wasn’t my wife.
That was the last time I thought about Monica. When the waitress came back, I ordered a table full of food: the smoked salmon crostini, Cajun molasses meatballs, then a spinach salad for us to share and finally, a cheese board. And for the next two hours, I filled Angelique with more food than wine.
And we just talked.
Not about our spouses, not about our work.
For two hours, it was just about us.
We talked about her dreams and my desires and then, we commiserated on how we both couldn't stand that fool in the Oval Office and how America just had to find a way to do better.
But the best part was when we talked about music. She was in her thirties and I’d just hit the big four-oh, but we were both
connoisseurs of eighties rhythm and blues. We talked a little about rap, but then we sang together as we remembered Luther, Prince, and Freddie Jackson. And then, she went way back to the seventies and proved to me that she was my kinda girl when she asked me about the Stylistics.
“What you know about them?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.
“Betcha by golly wow,” she serenaded me and I almost fell on the floor. “You’re the one that I’ve been waiting for forever….”
When she sang that whole song to me, every word, every verse, I wanted to ask her to marry me. I could have stayed there with Angelique all night, but right before midnight, I knew we had to go. As I walked her to her car, I couldn’t believe we’d spent almost six hours together — that almost equaled the hours that I’d spent in the office today.
When we stopped at her car, I asked, “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I am,” she nodded, and there was no hint of slurring in her words. “It was that food. That was smart. It soaked up that wine.”
I nodded. “That was the plan.”
Then, she leaned against her Lexus and looked up at me. “Thank you and not for the food, not for the wine.”
I frowned. “For what, then?”
“For being you. For giving me a reason to laugh. For helping me to remember that I’m someone special. That I am a prize.”
“You’re more than a prize, Angelique. You’re the whole damn lottery.”
That made her lower her eyes, but still I could see her smile.
She kept her head down for more than just a moment and my hands were shaking when I reached for her. With the tips of my fingers, I lifted her chin and I saw that she was trembling, too.
Looking into her eyes, I thought about the fun we’d had, I thought about the way we laughed. But then, she raised her hand to touch mine where I was holding her and I saw the glint of the diamond in her ring. The ring on her left hand. It sparkled, almost like it wanted to blind me.
I stepped back, then reached for the knob on her door and opened it for her. She hesitated for just a moment, then slid inside. And I was sure that I heard her release a sigh. What I wasn’t sure about was — was it one of relief? Or had she been there with me…when I came so close to kissing her.
If Only For One Night Page 9
