All the Things I Meant to Tell You

by Tiffany L. Warren

  “Sabrina told me that she was happy to have a black woman as part of her children’s parenting team. Do you not want me on the team, Ron?”

  “Oh, well if Sabrina said that, we should be good.”

  “But if she hadn’t said it. If she’d said, she didn’t want me to have anything to do with the raising and discipline of her children, would you be okay with that?”

  Ron sighed deeply and took Kimberly’s hand. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Taking her hand trying to calm her feelings. But it wasn’t going to work this time. Kimberly snatched her hand away.

  “Would you be okay with that?” Kimberly asked again.

  “If she did feel that way, I would have to take a diminished role in my daughter’s lives. I don’t want that. And you shouldn’t want a man who would want that.”

  “So, we’re lucky that Sabrina is okay with this, huh?”

  “It’s not all up to her, Kimmie Kim. It just makes it easier that she’s on board with the coparenting. That’s all.”

  Kimberly didn’t like Ron’s answer. It was a non-answer really. He was telling her that peace in her home and her marriage would hinge on the feelings of a woman who didn’t seem to know what she wanted. What if she decided differently in the future?

  “Ron, I’m going to set up a time to meet with Sabrina. I’m going to let her know that her behavior was unacceptable and help her come up with a plan moving forward.”

  “You’re going to manage this situation?”

  “Is that what I said? Do I sound like a manager?” Kimberly asked.

  “You just sound like the woman I know well. The one who’s such a boss that she expects people to move the way she wants.”

  “I don’t have that expectation. Not of everyone.”

  “I bet your friends would agree with me. We just accept it, because you being a boss adds value to everyone’s lives.”

  “And you don’t think Sabrina will feel the same way?”

  “I don’t know. I think she will maybe buck against your expectations, especially in the only area where she maintains any leverage or control.”

  Kimberly let this sink in. No matter what Ron said, she had no plans on managing Sabrina. But she did have expectations that would be met, or Sabrina would find that Kimberly was a more than worthy opponent. If Sabrina wanted to maintain full physical and legal custody of her children, then she would comply. Ron was a great dad, and there was no reason an Atlanta judge wouldn’t give him joint custody. Especially since there were two Gamma Phi Gamma judges in the family court system.

  Kimberly wouldn’t make that happen unless she had to, and that hinged on Sabrina’s reaction to the expectations. And Kimberly only had two.

  She expected Sabrina to dispose of any baggage she had related to her and Ron’s divorce. And Kimberly expected Sabrina to respect any space Kimberly allowed her into. Kimberly wasn’t going to spend her marriage being worried about Ron and Sabrina getting into some sort of entanglement. And she damn sure wasn’t going to be embarrassed in front of her friends and Atlanta’s society.

  That wasn’t too much to ask.

  Chapter 16

  TWILA

  After telling Traci about my assault I felt lighter. Maybe because I had a plan of action, or maybe because it just felt good thinking about how to make that man pay. Traci had asked me to describe him, and we were going to meet later for her to show me a series of photographs from their background investigations.

  The feeling of lightness allowed me to go hard at the gym. Hahna had already fallen off, but in her defense, she had to pack, so she could go see her country bumpkin ass family in Shady Falls, North Carolina. She’d told me about that place and her hometown Goldsboro. I had never decided that I didn’t need to ever visit a place just based on description, but that one stoplight town with a pickle plant was the last place on earth I wanted to go.

  And she was taking Sam too. Poor Sam.

  I was doing my third set of lunges when DeAndre walked over into the floor exercise area of the gym. The man was fine, and he knew he was fine, which were the makings of a manwhore. He glanced over at me, smiled, and waved. I waved back, but I didn’t smile. I didn’t need a manwhore right now. Or ever. I was done with men with errant penises.

  Why was he walking over to me? I didn’t give him a come-hither gaze. If anything, I’d given him a go-thither glare. I rolled my eyes, not wanting an interaction. I just wanted to feel the burn and fantasize about revenge.

  “I hate to interrupt your workout,” DeAndre said, “but would you mind spotting me really quick? This place is a ghost town this early, and I have a few more heavy reps to do.”

  The audacity of DeAndre to walk up to me, looking and smelling like a slice of heaven and ask me to spot him. I mean, it was annoying, but yet I was following him over to his weight bench. I didn’t make this decision, my coochie made this decision. I was sick of her ass too. Always getting me into shit I didn’t want to deal with. I swore the ho had a mind of her own.

  “I like that it’s empty here in the early mornings,” I said as I stood behind DeAndre. “That way I avoid all guys trying to hook up.”

  “No one here this early is on that, huh?” DeAndre asked.

  “Nope. The guys here are usually serious as hell about their workouts. The women too.”

  I watched DeAndre’s muscles glisten as he effortlessly did his first heavy set. He looked as if he was carved out of chocolate.

  He sat up for his first rest period. “I think that a gym is a fine place to meet someone,” he said. “You can tell a lot about a person by their dedication to fitness.”

  Except guys like him never tried to talk to the women who were really dedicated to fitness. The ones who were in full sweats because they weren’t comfortable enough with their bodies to wear tight leggings and sports bras. They never talked to the women who had lost one hundred pounds and who had another hundred to go. The DeAndre type of guy wanted girls like me. I didn’t judge them for it, but he was full of shit.

  “Interesting.”

  He turned to face me, and I had to look away from the bulge in his shorts. But it was too late. His print was imprinted in my mind. Why was my coochie such a damn ho?

  “What’s interesting? I like to see someone set a goal for themselves and accomplish it. What’s your goal?”

  “Eight pack by the time of my friend’s wedding.”

  “Eight pack? Whoa. That must be some dress you’re wearing.”

  “We haven’t even picked them yet, but I just want to look my best. I think weddings are a great place to meet guys.”

  DeAndre laughed. “It’s a great place to meet guys who just wanna hook up.”

  “Any more than the gym?”

  “You have a point.”

  DeAndre spun back around and hopped off the bench. He added more weight onto the bar.

  His muscles strained harder on the second set. I could see the exertion in his face, and from the beads of sweat that popped out on his forehead. He heaved the bar back on the bench and exhaled. The scent of cinnamon wafted up to my nose. Maybe it was the dentist in me, but I loved a man with good oral hygiene. Funky breath was a complete turnoff. Unless it was a potential patient with deep pockets, because I would get a person together, but for a price.

  “So, you’re looking for a nice guy at the wedding?” DeAndre asked as he took his second rest period.

  “I’m not looking, but I like to be prepared should anyone present himself.”

  “What if I presented myself this morning? You could take me to the wedding with you, and I’d only require a six-pack, not eight.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him but softened when I saw that he was joking. I offered him a chuckle.

  “I don’t know how I’d feel about your presentation this morning. You were a little lazy on that last set.”

  “I was not.”

  “You were. Watching a person work out can tell me a lot about their character. If you’re lazy in the g
ym, you might be lazy in other venues.”

  DeAndre tossed his head back and laughed, and I almost fell in love with the sound. It was so damn joyful, like he had no cares. And why would he? A muscular, chocolate lawyer in Atlanta? Life was a playground for him, and it looked like he wanted to pull me onto the merry-go-round with his fine ass. Ugh.

  He hopped up and added more weight to the bar. I sure hoped I didn’t have to pull this off him. I was strong but might have a bit of trouble with that heavy weight.

  DeAndre did the last set. Went hard with it. He kicked that last set’s ass. What was he trying to show me?

  He slammed the bar back on the bench. “Never lazy. Not here nor in any other venue.”

  “I see. Well, enjoy the rest of your workout. It’s been fun verbally sparring with you this morning.”

  “Are you about to leave?”

  “Gonna grab a bite to eat at the smoothie bar, and then yeah, I’m out. I’ll see you the next time.”

  DeAndre stood and stretched. Good God almighty, the man was blessed.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I did mind, but I wasn’t sure if my ho coochie was going to let me say that. She must’ve been putting out pheromones that gave DeAndre “all systems go” messages.

  “Well . . .”

  “I just want to get to know you in a safe setting. One protein shake, and that’s it. I promise.”

  “I like kale smoothies.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. That is the choice of the bourgeoisie.”

  “Did you just call me bougie?”

  “Yeah, I did. Am I wrong?”

  I chuckled. “You’re not wrong, and I didn’t take it as an insult. I thought you were being very perceptive.”

  “I am that.”

  The bougie perception wasn’t the thing that made my pulse quicken, though. It was the fact that he saw I needed to connect with him in a safe space. I was unsure if there was a man who could meet me where I was in my journey to wellness.

  “Okay. We can have post-workout breakfast,” I said. “But it isn’t a date.”

  “Definitely not a date. We’d have to plan for that. I don’t know enough about you to plan a successful date.”

  My only response to this was a smile. He was hitting all the right notes so far. But no need to think this would be anything past breakfast.

  “I usually get dressed for work after my workout, and before my breakfast. Do you have time for me to do that?”

  “I do the same. I’ll meet you at the smoothie bar?”

  “Yep. That works.”

  We both retreated to the men’s and women’s locker rooms. In the shower, I let my mind roam. I tried not to get hopeful on a first encounter with a man, but I couldn’t help it. When the guy was the full package like DeAndre—career, body, and looks, there was always something to mess it up. Like he probably had baby mama drama, a crazy ex, or crazy exes. Or he was crazy his damn self.

  But was it even fair for me to hope for perfection? I had more than a few issues. Maybe some of my shit was somebody’s dealbreaker.

  I got out of the shower and sprayed one of Kimberly’s natural conditioners into my hair. If my girl did this right, she was going to be close to a billionaire. Her formulas were perfect.

  I pulled on my snug blue slacks (what’s the point of working out if I’m not showing my ass), and a button-down blouse. My lab coat didn’t go on until I got into the office.

  Since I was sure my locker room time had taken longer than DeAndre’s, I power walked over to the smoothie bar. DeAndre was standing at the counter chatting with the college student who worked there. The pretty young college student who stared at DeAndre like she wanted him to take her to school.

  DeAndre turned as I walked in. “Hey,” he said, “what’s your favorite smoothie?”

  “Apple, banana, kale. Extra kale in case I don’t want salad for lunch.”

  “Good choice. Gotta get those greens in. Is that what you want today?”

  I chuckled. DeAndre was not typical. Most guys would’ve assumed that because I said that was my favorite that I wanted to have that from the menu. That was only correct about sixty percent of the time for me, because I always liked to mix things up. I craved change in all things.

  “That is what I want today.”

  DeAndre turned to the college girl. “We’ll have two of those. Add protein to mine.”

  “Gotta feed those abs, huh?” she asked.

  I lifted my eyebrows and stifled a giggle. These young girls were bold as hell. Maybe that’s why they were taking all the silver foxes.

  We sat at a small table while we waited for our smoothies.

  “You know I debated asking you to breakfast,” DeAndre said. “Seems like asking someone out at the gym is kind of tired.”

  “Not tired, but expected,” I said. “The gym is the hook up spot, and if not the gym, where?”

  “I don’t know. Online?”

  “Ugh. I hate online dating. It is the worst.”

  “Yeah, I’ve tried it. Most of the women I connected with were totally different when we met.”

  “They looked different?”

  “Well, yes, those filters are a beast.”

  I burst into laughter. It was true, but women weren’t the only ones guilty of visual trickery.

  “Not just the filters, though,” I said. “What about these fake beards and the hatfishers?”

  DeAndre joined my laughter. “Dudes just trying to catch up with y’all. But it wasn’t just the looks. These women have travel, good credit, and no drama in their bios and yet they’ve only been to Miami, their credit is not good, and there is more than a little drama.”

  “Just lying, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “I wouldn’t think a guy like you would need to resort to online dating though.”

  “You would think. But where are good places to meet a single, professional woman, over thirty-five? Think about it. Church, but I don’t do the church thing consistently.”

  “Oh, you’re like me. Easter, Christmas . . .”

  “Sometimes Mother’s Day, ’cause my mother is known to demand a brunch.”

  “Yours too?”

  “Yes ma’am. But church and like, where else? The club? I did that in my twenties. I got a lot of ass, but not one relationship. Work? Not me. I work alone. Unless I have a random encounter with someone like you, the pickings are slim.”

  “Networking events?”

  “Wait. Are you steering me away? ’Cause clearly I have settled in on this random encounter we’re having right now.”

  I laughed. I wasn’t trying to steer him away, but I didn’t want to seem pressed for this encounter to turn into more. If it didn’t, I would be cool with that.

  “I’m also enjoying this. Didn’t think I would, but I am.”

  “Really?”

  I sighed. “I have a lot on my plate. Not quite focused on finding a nice guy.”

  “Are you saying that if I did ask you out on a real date that you’d turn me down?”

  I knew this was coming, and dammit I hadn’t decided yet. He was a damn black unicorn, so how could I say no?

  “Could I ask you to hold that thought? Could you not ask me yet?”

  His eyes widened with shock. I was sure no one had ever said anything like this to him before. He was used to getting yeses, and I was saying hold up a second.

  “This is a first.”

  “I’m not surprised about that.”

  “Not the hold that thought part. I’ve had women tell me they were in the middle of a divorce or getting out a relationship, and could I give them a minute. I was never willing to do that.”

  “I see.”

  “It’s a first that I’m okay with it.”

  “I’m worth a little pause?”

  He nodded. “A strategic pause. And I think you might be worth it.”

  I smiled, marveling about how calm and safe I felt talking to this handsome stranger.
>
  “I am.”

  Chapter 17

  KIMBERLY

  Kimberly arranged her office desk neatly and wiped away the crumbs from her morning muffin. She had an official meeting this morning, and it wasn’t with a client. It was with Sabrina.

  She’d decided to have the meeting at her office, because there was going to be nothing friendly about their chat. No coffee shop, no small talk, and no frivolities. Kimberly was about to gather Sabrina’s edges and hand them to her in a little plastic bag.

  LaShea, Kimberly’s assistant, walked into the office, and Kimberly sat up straight at her desk and glared.

  “How do I look?” Kimberly asked.

  LaShea laughed. “Are you supposed to be looking mean or something?”

  “I’m supposed to look like I will beat a bitch’s ass.”

  LaShea cocked her head to one side and concentrated. She narrowed her eyes and then exhaled.

  “There’s something missing. I don’t know what.”

  “Seriously, LaShea?”

  “You just have an underlying friendliness to your face. You have resting friend face.”

  “Oh my god. I need resting and unresting bitch face.”

  “Nope. Maybe you can pull your hair back. Your hair all curly like that, has a bubbly personality of its own.”

  “I don’t have time for all that. I’d have to wet my hair completely and reapply product to get it to go back.”

  LaShea shrugged. “Well, you don’t look mean or scary. Maybe you should try a different approach.”

  Kimberly dropped her shoulders and sighed. “Like what? She disrespected our engagement party. I should be able to get her in order. Threaten her so bad that she won’t come back looking for more.”

  “I think if you threaten her, she’s gonna go crying to your fiancé about how mean you were to her. Then she might even try to tell him she doesn’t feel comfortable with their kids around you.”

  Kimberly didn’t put that past Sabrina at all. Sabrina was highly uncomfortable when Ron had first shown up with her. Ron had put his foot down then, but if Kimberly was aggressive with Sabrina, would that prove the point Sabrina was trying to make in the first place? That her instincts were right and that she didn’t want her children around Kimberly? That couldn’t happen. They’d made too much progress for that. But then Kimberly couldn’t allow the disrespect to continue either.