Man of Her Dreams

by Tina Martin

  Reid shook his head. “So, that’s why you feel guilty all of a sudden. You’re falling for this girl.”

  “I’m not. We’re friends.”

  “Friends,” Reid repeated, his eyebrows raised. “How long have you known this girl again?”

  “Long enough to consider her a friend.”

  “And you took her out last night.”

  “I did, and it was my idea by the way.”

  “So, are you throwing this whole celibacy reinvention nonsense out the window now, or what?”

  “No, but I do like being with her and that’s just keeping it real. Last night, I had one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Reid said, and he meant it. Trevor had avoided women since Rachel so for him to make this statement spoke volumes for this woman. He must’ve really liked her. “Hey, I just got an idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You said you didn’t want to go to your parent’s place because of having to explain the Rachel situation, and they’ve never met Rachel in person, right?”

  “Right. They’ve only spoken to her on the phone.”

  “That’s perfect. Have the girl go with you for a visit.”

  Trevor snapped his head back. “Elsie?”

  “Yeah. You’re friends, right? Ask her if she can do you a solid and pretend to be Rachel for the weekend.”

  Trevor laughed it off. “I couldn’t ask her to do something like that, Reid. She’s not adaptable enough to do that. If I was crazy enough to do something like that, I would need a woman who’s more outgoing.”

  “Like Rachel was.”

  “Yeah,” he answered dismayed. “I’ll probably just push my visit off again. I’m sure my mother will understand.”

  “Yeah, she’ll understand that her only son, her only child, is avoiding her for some reason. Before long, she’ll begin to think she’s the reason.”

  “I get it, Reid. I get it.” Trevor blew a breath of frustration. “I’ll think of something,” he said, then finished off his water.

  “Any more boxes in the car?” Reid asked.

  “No. I brought the last one in.”

  “Are you planning on unpacking any, or—?”

  “Nah. We’re good for now.”

  “Then let’s go shoot some hoops. I see the house came with a basketball goal.”

  “I don’t have a basketball,” Trevor told him.

  “I got one in the trunk,” Reid said. “Be right back.”

  Trevor sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for basketball, but today the temperature was in the low sixties and he could stand to blow off some steam. He went on outside when he heard Reid close the trunk.

  Reid dribbled as he came up the driveway, then threw Trevor a no-look pass.

  “What’s the game?” Trevor asked after catching the ball.

  “Let’s just say the first to knock down five baskets win. And there’s a catch—if I win, you have to ask Elsie to go along with you to visit your parents.”

  “As Rachel?”

  “Yes. As Rachel.”

  “What do I get if I win?” Trevor asked.

  “If you win, I’ll cut your grass for a month.”

  Trevor smirked. “Deal.” He shot the ball and made the first basket – a three-pointer. “One down. Four more to go.”

  “A’ight. I see how you want to play,” Reid said, running after the ball. He grabbed it, dribbled the ball between his legs, then pulled up and launched a shot that was nothing but air.

  “You’re a lil’ rusty, Reid,” Trevor said, chasing the rebound. “Get ready to gas up my mower, bruh.”

  Reid chuckled. “You trash talking, but the game ain’t over yet.”

  Trevor took another perimeter shot. “Swoosh…nothing but net,” he touted.

  “I see you, Steph Curry,” Reid joked. He dribbled the ball, then ran up for a layup. Finally, he had made a basket. “So, Elsie, huh?”

  “What about Elsie?” Trevor asked.

  “You tell me,” Reid said, jumping to block Trevor’s shot. “She must be something if she got you out of your dating funk.”

  “We’re not dating. We’re friends,” Trevor clarified.

  “This from the man who said shy women got under his skin.”

  “And I also told you I could work with her.”

  “Yeah…sure…” Reid said, making another layup.

  Trevor rebounded and made a quick layup of his own. Now, he was up, three to two. “What I’m finding out about women like Elsie is, they thrive off of individual attention. She’s just like my mother.”

  “Did you just compare this girl to your mother?” Reid asked breathily as he began to run to the goal while dribbling again.

  Trevor swiped the ball away from him and tossed it up. “One more, and that’s game,” he warned Reid. “And yes, I did compare her to my mother. They have similar mannerisms. My mother has always been a little on the quiet side.”

  “So, that’s why shy women get on your nerves. They remind you of your mother.”

  “No. They remind me of how my mother allows my father to walk all over her. Seeing that over the years made me want a woman who could stand up for herself. I don’t have anything against my mother. I just wish she had a backbone. She’s too nice. Too forgiving.”

  “And I thought those were good qualities when it came to settling down,” Reid commented.

  Trevor hit a jumper near the three-point line and said, “That’s game. Get ready to mow my lawn, boy.”

  Reid chuckled, nearly out of breath as he leaned forward, sweat dripping from his forehead.

  Trevor fought to catch his breath, too, peeling off his sweaty shirt, then using it to wipe sweat from his forehead as he walked back toward the house. Once in the kitchen, he took a bottle of water from the fridge, tossed it to Reid, then took another for himself. He drank half the bottle, found his breath, then said, “And those are good qualities when it comes to finding that special someone,” he said continuing their conversation, “But a woman should never accept disrespect from a man. My mother has accepted my father’s years of infidelity as normal. I love her dearly, but I hate that she allows him to do this to her. That’s always been a problem for me. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want marriage to begin with. I don’t want to be like him and I don’t want someone to love me so much that they would allow me to do that—to be unfaithful—not saying that I would be. I’m just saying…it’s what made me take marriage and commitment off the table. Then Rachel came along.”

  “Yep, then Rachel came along,” Reid said. “I still think you should try to reach out to Rachel.”

  “I’m not wasting my time tracking her down, man.”

  “Okay, then if you’re not ready to face facts, stick to fiction. Take Elsie to your mom’s. That way, you’ll get her off your back about meeting Rachel and buy yourself some more time. I’m certain Elsie can pull off a Rachel impersonation for a few days.”

  Trevor contemplated it for a moment. The idea wasn’t all that farfetched – okay, it was – but he couldn’t see Elsie agreeing to it. But he wondered...

  Chapter 13

  Elsie

  I’m happy today. I don’t feel like sleeping my Saturday away or crashing on the sofa while my dirty laundry stays scattered across the bedroom floor like a make-shift carpet. I’m in the mood to clean this apartment from top to bottom in preparation for my company tomorrow.

  To kick things off, I wipe a layer of dust off of my black Ikea coffee table, clean the flat screen and all the pictures I have on the walls. I wipe down the blinds, vacuum, organize the kitchen – and by organize, I mean actually unloading the dishwasher instead of using it as storage space. I hand wash dishes in the sink (I haven’t hand washed dishes since 1999) and when I’m done in the kitchen, I load my clothes in the washer. And now, it’s on to cleaning the bathroom. I pour Drano in the sink. It’s been clogged since the summer. I spray some kind of shower spray that’s suppo
sed to automatically scrub away soap scum because Lord knows I don’t have the strength to do that. I mop the bathroom and the kitchen with a lemon-scented Lysol-water mixture. I consider lighting a candle but hesitate when I remembered what happened the last time I lit a candle. I’d fallen asleep and forgotten to blow it out, so it went out on its own. Only problem was, I was still asleep at the time and it’s no fun waking up to the smell of a smoldering wick. I just knew I was on fire.

  * * *

  The house is clean and now I’m at the grocery store focusing on the food I’ll prepare for tomorrow. Trevor is the kind of guy who can chow down on anything, so I grab a large bag of wingettes, buffalo sauce, meatballs and chips and dip. That should be plenty for two people. I add a 7UP to my cart when I feel my phone vibrating in my purse. I take it out to see that it’s Priscilla.

  Crap, Priscilla!

  I was supposed to call her back but now that I actually have something to do with my time, I’m not so focused on her any longer. Still, I have to answer. Otherwise, she’ll show up at my apartment later, unannounced, ringing the bell like a crazed maniac.

  “Hello.”

  “Open the door. I know you hear me ringing the doorbell. Get out of the bed, Elsie! Jeez!”

  “I’m not at home, silly. I’m at the grocery store.”

  She laughs. “Okay, stop playing. Open the door.”

  I chuckle. I understand why this is hard for her to believe. It’s hard for me to believe, too. “I’m serious, Priscilla. I’m not there. Look in the parking lot. You won’t see my car.”

  She grows quiet. She must be checking out the parking lot.

  “You’re actually gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, slap my butt and call me a stripper. It’s going to rain, sleet, snow and hail all in one day. Since when do you go grocery shopping?”

  “Since my refrigerator’s belly is empty.”

  “Please. Your fridge is always on ‘E’, except for the expired almond milk and two-week old takeout boxes from Hong Kong Chinese.”

  I roll my eyes. “Why are you so concerned about my refrigerator? What’s up in yours?”

  “Everything. Billie likes a variety.”

  “Yeah, a variety of fancy restaurants. I’m sure you have some expired food up in there. When was the last time you cooked anything?”

  “I just made a salad last night for your information.”

  “A salad.” I giggle. “That’s not cooking.”

  “Well, that’s neither here nor there. I haven’t heard from you in days. What’chu been up to?”

  “Nothing much,” I say, pushing my cart toward checkout. “Work is work and home is home.”

  “Ugh, so boring. Look, girl…we’re having some friends over to watch the game tomorrow. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “No thanks. You know I don’t do parties.”

  “It’s not a party.”

  “Okay, then you know I don’t do strange people I don’t know where there’s going to be a lot of food, alcohol and cheering for the home team.”

  “Well, it ain’t like you’re doing anything else.”

  Yeah, because I’m just your lame friend who has no life. I bite my tongue to restrain myself from actually saying this out loud. Sometimes, I wonder if Priscilla hears how she talks to me – how she says things without actually saying them. Now, that I’ve gotten a hint of what it’s like to have someone in my life other than her, I can clearly see the shade she throws my way, and I don’t like it.

  “No. That’s okay. I’m good,” I say, declining her offer for the second time.

  “Oh, come on,” she says, borderline begging.

  “I have to go, Priscilla. I got another call coming in.”

  “I didn’t hear a beep.”

  “That’s because you were too busy whining. Bye, Priscilla.”

  I hang up quickly and check my phone. Turns out it wasn’t a call-waiting beep. It was a text message alert. A text from my boo – I mean friend – Trevor.

  Trevor: Hey, Ellie.

  I smile automatically. I don’t know what’s up with people giving me nicknames, but Ellie is by far my new favorite.

  Elsie: Hi

  Trevor: Are we still on for tomorrow?

  Yes! Yes, we are on for tomorrow, I think to myself nearly pushing my cart into an older Caucasian lady’s cart. She gives me a nasty, mean glare, then purses her wrinkly, pink lips.

  It’s a freakin’ cart, lady, not a Mercedes. I find a safe corner to pull over, then proceed to text Trevor back.

  Elsie: Yes. We’re good for tomorrow. I’m at the store now picking up a few snacks.

  And now, he’s calling me…

  This cheesy grin on my face won’t budge no matter how hard I try to make it go away. One of the workers in this store comes by with a crap-load of unpackaged inventory and looks at me like I’m weird for smiling.

  My phone is steadily ringing. I suppose I should answer before Trevor hangs up. “Hello.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Oh, like I said…just picking up some snacks and stuff. Do you drink beer by the way?”

  “I do. You?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever tried beer?”

  “No.”

  He grins. “Figures. Then pick up some.”

  “What kind?”

  “Icehouse, Miller...whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

  “Should I get the twenty-four pack?”

  He laughs. “It’s only two of us, baby.”

  “Oh, right,” I say feeling silly, but that all goes away when I realize he just referred to me as baby.

  “You’re trying to have a good ol’ drunken time, huh?”

  I laugh, embarrassment turning my face a shade of red although I’m amused by his teasing.

  “I’ll get a six-pack of Icehouse,” I tell him, pushing my cart to the liquor section of the store, where strangely, everyone over here looks suspicious – like it’s illegal to buy alcohol.

  “How has your day been so far, Ellie?”

  “Good. I did a little cleaning and since when am I Ellie to you?”

  “Not sure. It just fits.”

  It just fits...

  “How has your day been?” I inquire as I grab a six-pack of beer and place it in my cart.

  “Productive. I moved some boxes to the new place, got some of them unpacked and shot a few hoops with Reid.”

  “Who’s Reid?”

  “Oh, he’s a good buddy of mine. I thought I mentioned him before.”

  “No, I don’t recall, but that’s cool. I find it amazing that you have enough energy to play basketball after moving boxes around all day.”

  “Yeah, well, you can make energy for what has to be done, and I have a lot that needs to be done. That’s why I’m looking forward to relaxing with you tomorrow.”

  “You are.”

  “I am. What time should I be there?”

  “What time does the game start?” I ask because while I like watching football, I know nothing of game schedules.

  “I think it starts at 3:00.”

  “Okay, so maybe you can get to my place at like 2:30.”

  “I was thinking more like 2:00.”

  Anxious much? “Uh…okay. Then 2:00 it is.”

  “Sweet, then it’s a date—I mean—” He grinned. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  “Bye, Ellie.”

  I hang up the phone and scream internally, satisfied that this is actually going down, but nervous about it actually going down. I hope the day goes as good as I’ve played it out in my head. I’ll definitely be more relaxed at my own place, so that’s definitely a good thing. What I don’t know yet is how Trevor’s presence is going to throw off my level of composure in my own apartment.

  Chapter 14

  Trevor

  He told her 2:00 p.m., but he’d been so eager to see her, he arrived at 1:30. He pressed the doorbell and hoped she wasn’t bothered by h
is early arrival. When she opened the door to let him in, the sight of her snatched the air straight from his lungs. He considered her beautiful before but today, she was absolutely stunning, alluring and exuding luscious femininity that made the nerves in his hands twitch.

  “Hey,” she said, smiling. “You’re early.”

  Trevor swallowed the knot in his throat while feeling his heart accelerate. He didn’t know if it was her smile, her relaxed demeanor, her crinkly hair hanging loosely around her shoulders or the fact that this was the first time he’d seen her without glasses that had him in complete awe, raptured by the beauty of the shy girl he was slowly becoming addicted to. He found it amazing how different she looked without the glasses hiding her face. He could clearly see her dark brown eyes and smooth, mahogany skin – all her beautiful features like her evenly arched brows and the soft curl of her thick eyelashes. Even her burgundy, gloss-tinted lips looked fuller and enticing. Elsie had transformed into a goddess, and the absolute phenomenal thing about that was, she had no idea how beautiful she was.

  “You can come in,” she told him, but he didn’t move.

  “Trevor?”

  He blinked, then watched her lips form into a wide smile.

  “Come in,” she said again, stepping out of the way so he could do so.

  “Thanks,” he said, stepping inside finally. He unbuttoned his coat, took off his hat and laid it on the backrest of one of the living room chairs.

  “I’m just finishing up the food,” she told him.

  Dang, he couldn’t find words. He just stared powerlessly taking in everything that was her. Was this the same woman?

  Elsie glanced up at him. Another smile glowed beautifully on her face. “Why are you so quiet?”

  “Uh…no reason. I was…um…”

  “Don’t tell me you’re the nervous one now, Mr. Myerson.”

  “No. Not at all.”