Leo - Mr. Boss: The 12 Signs of Love (The Zodiac Lovers Series Book 8)

by Tiana Laveen

Lazarist looked over at the door and watched Sky enter. He’d never felt so relieved. Getting to his feet, he raced over to her, hugging her tight. Her love surrounded him like a shawl, her warmth his medicine. She layered his face with kisses and rocked him against her. Taking her hand, he led her over to the chair he’d just vacated and sat her down.

  “He’s stable,” he whispered. “He had septicemia. He almost lost his life.”

  “So he’s okay now?” she asked as she reached for his hands, hope shining in her big brown eyes.

  “Well, we don’t know. They have to keep him. He’s better than when he arrived, that’s for certain, and it didn’t turn into sepsis. They are trying to ensure he doesn’t have any permanent organ damage, but that could take days or even weeks to discover. My sister thought it was from a cut he’d had that was hard to heal, and that definitely didn’t help because it lowered his immune system—but it was more likely a bladder and kidney infection that got the ball rolling. Right now, he’s on oxygen and several rounds of antibiotics. He’s being given fluids intravenously.”

  He pointed to one of the tubes jetting out of his father.

  “Have you been here all by yourself?”

  “No.” He pulled up a chair next to her. “Eliza is talking to some people and letting them know what’s going on, and my mother is on her way. Tobias was here for a bit a while ago, but I told him to go home. You didn’t have to come, really, but thank you.”

  He reached for her and held her close.

  “Baby, where else would I be? Your father could have lost his life. Of course I’d be here by your side.”

  They sat side by side, quietly holding hands. Only the machines buzzing and the light chatter of people talking out in the hallways could be heard. He disappeared inside of himself, his thoughts all over the place. An image of his father flashed in his mind, and he looked down at the floor, his body rocking, his heart shattering.

  “You want some coffee or something to drink, Laz?” she whispered, caressing his arm.

  “Yeah, that would be good, I guess.”

  She released him and walked off, leaving him there in the stillness of the room. He looked back over at his father and shook his head. Running his fingers through his hair, he leaned forward and grazed the old man’s fingertips.

  It can’t end like this, Dad. It just can’t…

  …One week later

  IT HAD BEEN a long, draining ordeal, but Mr. Zander, Lazarist’s father, was now speaking and coherent. Lazarist was splitting his days between the hospital and work, and even managed to meet her for dinner one evening for some much-needed R&R. Sky spent as much time as she could with him at the hospital until he all but threw her out, insisting that she go to her scheduled appointment with her friends to go look at and try on dresses.

  As she stood in the luxury bridal salon on 5th Avenue, ‘Bridal Reflections’, it was hard to keep from smiling for so many things were going her way. All of her girls stood around slipping into various shimmery and swanky gowns—some they loved, others they hated—and then they argued about what cut was more flattering.

  “Ladies, don’t try to change the colors. That’s permanent. I told you I would compromise on which ones were chosen, but the color of your gowns is plum. Period.” She found herself having to be a bridezella at times, for they were snatching white, saucy red, and black dresses that barely covered their breasts, had three slits, and looked like something to wear at the damn club.

  “I’m not wearin’ this moo-moo, Sky! I’m tryna secure the damn bag!” Scarlet hooted. “I know all of Lazarist’s rich ass friends will be there. I gotta play the damn part! You tryna fuck up my coins again!”

  “Scarlet, don’t you start.” Sky rolled her eyes, then grabbed a tiny glass of white wine and downed it.

  “You stole my man. The least you could do is let me wear a hoochie mama dress so I can get another chance at bat. Stingy ass… there’s enough to go around.” At this, everyone burst out laughing. “Anyway, try your shit on. We wanna see it and rate you from one to ten. The first two dresses sucked.”

  “Thank you… I know I can always count on you for encouragement.” Sky smirked as she slipped out of the last gown, to her bare essentials.

  “Don’t get mad at me. Shit! The first one had you lookin’ like a big ass gallon of milk. Made me want to dip some chocolate chip cookies in the crack of ya ass! The second one looked like a balled-up piece of paper… some shit found in a high school English class on the damn floor. Bitch, get it together!”

  All the ladies sat down as she went into the dressing room for the third time. After a few minutes, she realized that, although the next gown was gorgeous, it was rather cumbersome to squeeze into.

  I hope I can zip this dress up!

  Two more minutes passed to no avail. Her brow was covered with sweat and her forefinger was red and angry from straining at the zipper and snaps for far too long.

  “Scarlet, I need your help!” Seconds later, the tall, blonde woman with the deep bronze complexion was hovering over her, her lips twisted and her arms crossed.

  “Why’d you have us waiting all this time?!” Scarlet jumped in to assist. Snatching the damn thing back half way down to her hips, she began to pull and tug at her white waist trainer and bra straps.

  “You don’t have to be so rough!”

  “You don’t have to be so damn ridiculous. In here wrestlin’ with yourself like it’s WWE. Shoulda been calling me in here—you know we have a dinner reservation after this and you in here wasting time trying to get your Vienna sausage shaped body into this damn uncooked macaroni shaped dress!”

  “Oh, so you’re making fun of my body now?! I think I look good!” Sky popped out her hip in a sassy sort of way. “I should knock your head off and roll it down the road like the bowling ball that it is!”

  They both giggled as they poked fun at one another.

  “I know what the problem is. You’re bloated… Lay off the salt,” her friend warned until finally, she had the dress zipped up for her and everything in place.

  “Everything okay, ladies?” one of the employees of the salon asked.

  “Yes!” they both said in unison.

  Sky pushed the dressing room doors open and stepped out. Her friends started to ‘ohhh’ and ‘awww’. She spun around and checked herself out in the mirrors.

  “That’s the one!” someone yelled out. “Girl, you look like a damn snack!”

  Toi began to cry as she got to her feet, jumping up and down in place. “Yes, Sky! You look beautiful, girl! Oh my God!”

  “Don’t make me cry, Toi! Stop it!” Sky warned, her eyes glossing up now, too.

  She felt Scarlet’s hand surround her shoulders.

  “Sky, you’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen… and I’m serious about that.” The woman turned her around to face her. Lifting her chin, she looked her in the eyes, seriousness in her expression. “All jokes and silliness aside, you deserve this, girl. I am so, so, so damn happy for you! I really like Lazarist, and I think he’ll do you right. You were made for each other.”

  Scarlet drew her in for a big hug.

  “When you secure the bag, you secure the money, honey,” Scarlet whispered in her ear. “You secure peace of mind. Life is so hard but so beautiful, too. When you find your soulmate, you hold on tight to him. Because when I say, ‘Secure the bag’, I’m not just talkin’ about a bankroll. I’m talkin’ about you securing your placement in that man’s heart. You did that, boo. Ain’t nowhere to go but up!”

  Tears traced a path down Sky’s cheek.

  “I love you so much, Scarlet. Things are so good right now!” Sky tossed up her hands. “After all of my struggles, things are finally falling into place. I got the bank loan so I get the new spot in Manhattan. Laz’s dad is much better. My father actually told someone that his daughter was getting married, and he had a smile on his face when he said it. And I have the best damn friends, ever!”

  All the ladies s
tood to their feet and surrounded her in a big, warm embrace. Scarlet wrapped her hands around her face, tears welling in her eyes.

  “You’ve got us, baby, because you’re a damn good person. This is sisterhood… this thing you and I got is special. Ain’t nobody, and I mean nobody, gonna come between us. You’ve been rockin’ with me for over ten years, and I couldn’t imagine life without you, Sky. You’re a ray of sunshine in a gray, miserable world. Real sisterhood is bein’ happy for your girlfriends, even when you wish you had the same things they had, too. I want to see you rise up, succeed, be in love and be happy. I’m seein’ it right now. I joke with you about taking my man, but you know I wanted this for you so bad! It couldn’t have happened to a better person.”

  “I know you do, Scarlet! I know.”

  “We as Black women gotta stop tearin’ each other down.” Her friends nodded their heads in agreement. “We always feel the lowest out here, the ones being treated the worst, talked about, ignored… so what do we do? We scratch out tha eyes of people that look just like us. That don’t help us see any better, we just all end up blind. Instead of being crabs in a barrel, we need to reach down and across the aisle and lend a helping hand, aiding one another to get over to the other side.”

  “So damn true.” One of the other ladies shook her head.

  “We should encourage each other more, we’re all we got…” Toi gripped Scarlet’s hand as more tears flowed.

  “There’s plenty room for everybody… all we want is to be happy.” Scarlet’s eyes sheened. “That’s the common goal, right? To be respected and appreciated… to be loved. This isn’t a competition, baby. It’s not a race, either. It’s a long journey to the land of love—self-love, too…nothin’ more, nothin’ less. We’re tryna manage this thing called life, and if we support one another, we’ll get much farther than we ever imagined. We’ve gotta be comfortable in our own skin! Okay being by ourselves first – just like Sky has done. We never heard her talking about needing no man. Not that she didn’t feel that way, but her life didn’t revolve around it, and look who she attracted. All of us are worthy of love!” Several heads nodded in agreement. “Black girl magic? What is it? It’s not a mystery or something you pull out of a damn hat.

  “It’s in each and every one of us. Bein’ a boss bitch isn’t just about handlin’ yours, being ‘THAT’ girl, is about handling your sister’s heart with care, about bein’ true blue and giving a damn, and telling the truth while you do it. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but I feel things so deep, only me, myself and I would ever understand. Black women, we have so much love to give, and always give it away to the wrong damn people.” Tears streamed down Scarlet’s face. Sky could count on one hand how many times she saw this woman cry, a rare occurrence indeed. “That’s why I say, first, we have to start giving it ourselves first. You can’t pour nothin’ from an empty vessel, but a vessel that’s full can nourish the whole damn world…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Having a Screw Loose, Off His Rocker, and a Total Basket Case

  DAD SAT IN the large, plush, floral printed chair by the enormous window with the sun streaming through. His salt and pepper hair appeared clean and cut nicely. His face was clean shaven, which made him look at least ten years younger. He’d been admitted into the Department of Psychiatry of the NYU Langone Hospital Medical Center.

  After five and a half weeks of treatment, his new medications began to take effect. Lazarist had never seen his father this lucid in years, but he couldn’t get his hopes up just yet. Perhaps the past had been too traumatic, and though seeing was believing, he’d learned the hard way that good things in life sometimes were short-lived.

  Lazarist sat down on a seat upholstered with a calm, floral print on a beige background. He rested his hat on his knee and kept his cane close to his person. He was a mere foot or so away from his father but this time, not in his kitchen at three in the morning.

  His sister, Eliza, sat by his side, too. They’d joined their father in the small eating area of the facility. Dad pursed his lips and brought his cup of hot tea with lemon to his mouth. After taking a sip, he set it gingerly back down.

  “Still a little hot,” he mumbled. His blue, gray and black checkered robe covered a white shirt and loose jogging pants. On Dad’s feet were thick white socks and beige rubber slippers. Everything clean, everything new, everything neat.

  Dad offered a rather disturbing smile, then chuckled.

  “Guess I gave everyone quite a scare!” He clapped his hands, as if his life were some Broadway show everyone was enjoying.

  “Yeah, you did.” Eliza huffed and crossed her legs.

  Dad shifted his attention to her. For a moment, it seemed he didn’t even recognize who she was, and then his face split in an all-knowing grin.

  “What a beautiful woman you are, Eliza! I’m so lucky to have such uh nice lookin’ kid. You look just like Evelyn. Hey.” Dad looked around the place, even rising up out of his seat to glance over his shoulder for a spell. “Why isn’t Evelyn here? Where’s your mother?” He spoke with hope, with unrealistic optimism, the kind no one would want to trample over and squash with the cold hard truth, regardless of the hell he’d taken them through.

  For a second, Lazarist wondered if Dad even recalled that he’d been divorced for over twenty years. At this point, there were still so many questions, some of which would probably never be answered.

  “Now that you’re okay, Dad, she chose, uh, to not come,” Lazarist explained.

  Dad’s smile slowly melted. His father’s tall frame bent like a tree branch with the weight of the world suddenly upon it. All went quiet for a spell. Lazarist cleared his throat, placed his cane on the arm of the chair, and gathered a packet of papers that was lying nearby.

  “Dad, we have some things to discuss regarding your future care… Despite what happened, and as much as I love you…” He faltered. Eliza grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I can’t… I can’t let what was happening continue. It’s not healthy for you. It’s not healthy for me.”

  “What was happening that you can’t let continue?” Dad’s voice and tone were calm as he reached for his tea and took another sip, then set the cup back down. Clasping his hands over his lap, the man waited, looking truly perplexed.

  “For years, you’ve been coming to my home during various states of paranoia. Those episodes led to you behaving in a manner that was unacceptable more times than not. Now, it’s not just about me anymore, Dad. I am getting married. My fiancée will be moving into my home. Therefore, it will be our home, not just mine anymore… and she needs to be able to feel safe, okay? She deserves to feel safe.”

  Dad’s facial expression never changed. In fact, he looked utterly bewildered.

  “What unacceptable behavior?”

  Lazarist sighed in frustration and briefly closed his eyes.

  “Dad,” Eliza jumped in. “Do you remember goin’ over to Laz’s house a couple times a month sometimes, bangin’ on the door at three or four in the morning?” Eliza questioned.

  Dad took a while to respond, but then nodded as if it had just come to mind.

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Do you remember what you’d do when you’d get there?” Eliza probed deeper.

  “I, um, I would come in, ya know, after he’d turn off the alarm. I think then I would, uh, go shower, right?” Lazarist nodded. “I sometimes would use the phone… Lazarist had a lot of nice clothes for me!” Dad grinned from ear to ear, as if they were Hanukkah gifts he’d receive just for the hell of it. “I would put some on and then I’d eat… and he and I would talk… and then, uh, I’d leave, right?”

  Eliza and Lazarist stared at him.

  “Right?” he repeated.

  “No, Dad. That’s not what would happen.” Lazarist leaned forward and clasped his hands. “More times than not, you were belligerent. You’d curse me out at the top of your lungs, ask about Mom and accuse her of being promiscuous and a bunch of other cr
ap. You would go into a whole spiel about Eliza not being your daughter, too. Now, not all of this always happened, but each visit was unsettling, regardless. If you weren’t talking out of your mind, then you were accusing me of things I hadn’t done—the same with Mom and Eliza. One time you and I even got into a physical altercation and I had to call the police on you, but you were gone before they arrived.

  “I have asked you over and over, Dad, to please allow me to check you into a psychiatric facility. We wouldn’t shove you in Bellevue, which you were deeply afraid of due to their reputation. I promised we’d get you someplace else where you’d be comfortable and get the care you needed, but you refused. I attempted to have you committed, as well. I was the only family member you were speaking to after a while. Mom still had an active restraining order against you, but after consulting with an attorney, I realized that would be trickier to do than I thought, in part because it would be hard to prove that you were a threat to yourself or society. Right now, you are thinking clearly… You’re lucid.”

  Dad crossed his arms real tight over his body, and his muscles seemed to stiffen and lock. His thick brows bunched and anxiety was written all over his face.

  “That is due to the medication, this environment, the facility as a whole and the therapy sessions, which the staff has stated you’re doing exceptionally well,” Lazarist continued. “However, as soon as you get off the medication, stop taking it against doctor’s orders as you have done time and time again, and you leave here, you will spiral back out of control if a plan is not put in place beforehand. We can’t go back to business as usual, and we’re prepared to take action.”

  Dad’s eyes sheened and he dropped his head.

  “So… this is where we’re at now…”

  Dad huffed as he looked out the window, not making eye contact with either of them.

  “Yes, this is where we’re at. Something really bad is going to happen, Dad, and this time, you may not come back from it. You’re lucky to even be alive right now. Had that infection gone on even a couple days longer, you would’ve been dead. It’s dangerous on the streets. At the hospital, they gave you a physical. Your liver, despite you not being a big drinker, is in bad shape. You’ve had so many untreated infections, the doctor believes, that it has taken a toll on your body. These things happen and are exacerbated by you living on the streets.”