by Love Belvin
I was sounding like a damn adult. It’s just that I knew how it felt to go beyond my dignity to gain the attention of a boy who held no interest in me beyond a nut. I didn’t want her to fall victim to that prison of having absolutely no self-respect.
Immediately, Candice broke out in enthusiastic manic nodding. “Yes! I swear, I was considering it with Taylor and Shonda, but thought it would be boring without a date.”
I believed her and was pissed that I did because it meant I had to go along with whatever she’d devised for this evening. I rolled my eyes.
“Isn’t this ideal to do with Taylor and Shonda? Why call me? ”
“Well, look at you! You’re clearly a woman who is about her diva. I mean, you’re always fashion forward when I see you.” She motioned for me to sit next to her at the desk and I stood right away, bringing my glass. “And I was told you’re the woman with answers for things like this. And dammit, that’s why you’re here. You’re going to hook me up. Those bitches are going to eat their hearts out. I felt foolish when I considered it. I mean, what best friend doesn’t recognize that skill in the other.”
“Best friend?” I questioned with flared nostrils.
“Semantics,” she swiftly countered then waved it off. “So, I have my laptop and iPad here. Pick one and we can get started on piecing together this ensemble of the year!”
“We? What are we going to do?” I glanced down at the two devices.
“Well, there are thousands of retailers, Elle. We can’t possibly hit every store. So, we can search from the convenience of my home.” She giggled at my confusion. “Here, you take the laptop. Let me know when you find a piece and I can yay or nay it and we’ll just work off each other, aye?” Her eyes were lit with manufactured assurance. I’d identified it easily. Game recognized game.
On another long breath, I reached for the laptop, pulling it in front of me. I had no idea why I was moved by this little girl, but I couldn’t say no. I was in no mood to shop with an indecisive teen, but felt an unusual obligation to Candice.
Sulking, I muttered, “There’s no way I’m going to retailers’ sites. That shit will have me sleep before we can find the first piece.”
“Really?” she gasped. “What’s your game plan?”
I started typing into the browser. “There’s this site, JAGMisha.com. We can go there. It’s sort of like a hub for apparel…a clearinghouse for fashion. You type in an item in the search box, be as specific or general as you want and are given a number of results to choose from. You can also make collages of ensembles to gain a visual of the look you’re piecing together. There’s an app for it, too. Here,” I went for her tablet. “Go to the app store and type in JAGMisha. We can search at the same time.” Candice’s brows knitted as she processed my instructions, apparently game when she aptly received it as I placed the iPad in her hands. “You can start by downloading it. When you’re done, set up an account so you can save your designs for later.”
I took another sip of my wine before I got started. I thought to ask Candice what look she was going for and quickly decided against it. That would invite her indecision. I’d just throw together several collages and have her choose from there. Quietly—and thankfully—we went to work.
Minutes into my second ensemble collage, there was a light knock at the door before it opened. It was Helen with the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, offering a refill. With gusto, I obliged. I needed it to get through this mundane task.
“Thanks, Helen.” I offered and caught the gracious smile on her face.
She must have understood the torture in this task with Candice and was taken by my presence with her. I fought not to roll my eyes at that revelation. I continued with my work. Candice ooh’ed and ahh’ed at the collages I created, giving extended feedback on my creativity. I replied minimally, allowing her to tire herself out deciding which she liked best.
There was another knock at the door. Before peering up from the laptop, I glanced over at my glass that was half full. At this point I was blissfully tipsy and surviving Candice’s loquaciousness.
“Mind if I crash the party?”
That tenor had my neck snapping up. It was Stephanie again. When my eyes arrived at her, she quickly hiked her shoulders, expressing bashfulness while she smiled broadly. For some reason, I took the time to observe her being again. Similar to Candice, Stephanie was a beautiful young woman. Her cinnamon skin matched Jackson’s, her long dark and shiny tresses were pressed out in thick waves falling just below her shoulders with the crown of her head pulled together by an implement. Stephanie wore no jewelry other than the barely there gold studs in her ears. She was above average height-wise, close to 5’9 and wore a simple look of dark blue denim, a plain white tee and orange waist-length cardigan, and mustard…moccasins.
Jesus…
She’s a virgin!
There was no other way to account for her understated appearance and soft, eager and jovial spirit. Her smile was striking and pleasant and her approach timid. Just an hour ago I had whispering fears of Jackson fucking her while I was in his home, but now I see there was none of that happening.
My God…
“Errrrr…” Candice hissed. “What can I do for you again, Steph? We’re kinda busy in here doing, you know…intimate girlfriend things, if you can’t tell.”
“My mom is still enjoying her weekly girl time with Ms. Val, and you know Jackson is always wrapped up in work. So, I figured I’d come back and hang with the girls.” She smiled…like…hard.
I watched raptly as she pulled the second chair from in front of me around the desk. I steeled when she placed it on the right side of me instead of Candice.
“So, where’s Jax?” Candice drawled out, clearly annoyed.
Stephanie tarried for a moment, conspicuously thinking of a response. “Well, you know Jackson. He’s always busy. He’s not normally here past dinner.” She snorted.
“Isn’t he your boyfriend? Why don’t you guys ever make plans to go out afterward?” Candice’s tone still unpleasant.
“We do.” Stephanie shrugged, eyes faltering. “Just not every Sunday. You know I have to transport mom, so there’s that barrier.”
“Fine,” Candice breathed out. “But you’re going to have to keep quiet. We don’t need any distractions. Biffies at work over here.”
Stephanie hiked her shoulders again in excitement and her eyes distinctively slanted as she slowly lowered herself onto her seat.
“Yeah…” She patted her hand familiarly down my thigh. “Will do, Candy.” Stephanie quietly chuckled as she rolled her eyes, furtively.
My brows peaked as my eyes followed the eerie trail left from her trace on my thigh.
What the hell…
That maneuver was odd, slick and totally unexpected from Stephanie. Trying to dismiss it, I went back to the task at hand. I could feel Stephanie’s gape going between me and the screen.
“So, what exactly is it that you do at the firm? Are you into design of some sort?”
I cringed inside. Stephanie was sweet, but not even that veneer could warm me to girl chat. Plus, I didn’t understand her interest. Could she detect that I was the woman sleeping with her love interest?
Or was?
“No. I am creative, just more administrative.”
Stephanie gasped. “So, you are the administrative assistant?”
“No, Stephanie.” I answered dryly while dumping a cute floral mid-drift blouse into a collage. Never entertain the wife. “I’m actually a senior account manager.”
“Since you wanna talk so much,” Candice grated, “and are badgering my friend with invasive questions, what exactly is it that you do, Steph?”
I was sure that question was rhetorical. Yup! Positively rhetorical. I just knew I’d been caught in crossfire. I had no time for it.
Again… Why are you here, Elle?
“You know I’m in med school…finishing up my clerkship.” I heard the duuuh in Stephanie’s voice as she spoke o
ver me to Candice. Then she perked up and faced me when she informed, “I think I’ve decided: I’m going to pursue the gynecological care specialty. I start my residency in the spring.”
“You wanna look at pussies all damn day? Ewwwwww! That shit has to be depressing.” Candice hissed. “Now, if they had an equivalent career for cocks, I’d beat your ass to the front of the line to sign up for that track!” Candice blurted as she attempted to high-five me, and totally jarred, I reciprocated.
This must be that other side of her.
The door opened again. This time Jackson appeared and Helen rounded him, bringing in that lovely bottle of Sauvignon Blanc that was moving toward empty with each offering. Jackson looked damn good standing tall against the doorframe. He wore a black short sleeve t-shirt with indigo jeans, dressed very casually. But his eyes could not be found on me. That fucked with me.
“More, Elle?” Helen asked with a polite smile.
Sure. Why not drug me to use me to entertain the kid.
“Please.” I gestured to my empty glass, masking my blotto.
My plan was being shot to hell by the hour.
“Steph, Magreen’s ready to go.”
“Oh, no! Just when we were warming up,” Stephanie cried as my eyes now were trained to the screen. She stood and spoke over to me to Candice. “Bye, Candice.”
“Bye…again,” Candice replied dryly.
Then things got quiet. I could sense when Helen walked off after pouring me a fresh glass of wine, but there was no movement beyond that. Why hadn’t Stephanie moved?
I raked my eyes up and was shocked to the point of gagging when I saw Stephanie standing over me with her arms stretch wide, waiting for me to…hug her?
What the hell?
My eyes roved around the room. I saw Candice, buried into her tablet and Jackson trying to hide an amused grin by using his thumbnail to scrape underneath his bottom lip, then over to Stephanie smiling without teeth, but with determined eyes…a similar gesture I couldn’t place right away. I quickly thought Jackson’s humor derived from him being the only one in the room truly able to appreciate how anti-human I am, particularly with embracing. He may have been on par with that fact, but I hated the thought of being predictable. I’d show him! Reluctantly and slowly, I rose and quickly pulled my arms over her torso, immediately releasing them. But I couldn’t retreat; Stephanie’s embrace lingered and tightened.
What the fuck?
My eyes darted over to Jackson who was now engaged in full on laughter. Audible mirth that had his lean body vibrating in his cackle. The sight of him bowled over, fighting for balance ignited something in me, making this experience less excruciating. But for how long? Stephanie wouldn’t let go.
“Bye, Stephanie,” I offered stoically, giving her a final pat before attempting to withdraw again.
“Damn! Are you trying to snuggle her to death?” Candice shrieked.
Barely gaining a hold of himself, Jackson called over, “Time to go, Steph. You know how Magreen gets when she’s ready to roll out.”
Finally she does, and not a moment too soon. I was prepared to ply her off of me.
“Sorry, we couldn’t chat more. I’ll have Jackson give me your number,” Stephanie piped out. “I have a National Medical Association conference coming up that I could use your expert skills on. Hopefully, we can hook up to handle that together.”
Was this girl desperate for friends or what? I would not be pulled into another fictitious friendship. Candice was the exception and she wasn’t even my friend!
“We’ll, see.” I shrilled, fighting for etiquette.
I was damn near drunk. That was the closest she’d get to a commitment from me. I was conniving, but not trifling—not anymore. Jackson was her love interest; I couldn’t hang out with her. She smiled as she padded over to an awaiting Jackson and he closed the door behind them.
Shit!
I found my anger rising. Stephanie was being weird, Jackson found it humorous and I was stuck in this office with Candice, searching for prom gear. How much more could I endure? The only good thing I had going was my intoxication.
“Candice, I’m up to five collages now. I’m sure you can pick from one of them.” I scraped my face with my palms.
“Yeah,” she murmured while studying the tablet. “The ones I like the best have pieces that I think I have in my closet. Jackson caught me stoned last weekend and cut off my allowance for an”—she used air quotes—“unforeseen period. Let’s go up and see what I have before I go begging my mom for money.”
“Your brother punishes you?” I asked totally jarred by that datum.
Candice paused, collecting her things from the desk and shrugged, “When he’s paying enough attention to me.”
“And how long has this been?”
“For a few months now. Before then I ran shit,” she noted confidently before leaving the office.
Three hours later, we were upstairs in her room with clothes layering each surface of Candice’s room. I was on my fourth glass of wine, watching Candice splayed face down atop of the heap of clothes mounting her bed. We’d almost completed piecing together one of the looks I put together for her in a collage. She was right, all of the elements were in her closet, many of them never worn before. Thanks to our age-differential, I was able to rev her excitement about wearing something from her closet. But I was bored sitting on the floor, resting against her bed with just a bit of wine left.
My plan seemed to have been a bust. There was no sign of Jackson and I’d pulled out my phone, conjuring a way home. Depressingly drunk, I regarded my striking black leather, Casadei over-the-knee boots that I’d spent a fortune for with a matching oversized, draping midi. The dress was carefully selected for easy access when Jackson took me. I paired the boots and dress with a cropped green denim jacket, another exuberant expense and a gray fedora with a black strap. Yup! I was #TeamOverDressed for nothing. There would be no action for Elle tonight. Too bad; these long babies would’ve looked sinfully good wrapped around his waist. I exhaled in my self-pity, raising my phone again in a search for car services.
The moment the door cracked open, my jaw dropped and pulse quickened exponentially. When I made out his tall lean body in the frame, sporting a lazy yet expectant expression, my good wits kicked into gear. I lifted my glass, graciously gulp the last of the wine and placed it on the nightstand behind me. And then I cocked my head to the side, goading him to make the first move.
Jackson didn’t play my game, or at least not the way I was expecting. He smoothly extended his arm, summonsing me out of the room. I tried with every ounce of decorum to stand and sashay leisurely to the other side of the bedroom. Before I crossed over the threshold hold, I caught a wicked gust of his scent. Damn! My insides were atwitter and he hadn’t even touched me.
I stopped, allowing him to guide me to where ever he pleased. Jackson could have fucked me against the wall right there in the corridor and I would have let him. I was so ready, that quickly caught up. Not to mention, my buzz was still slightly intact.
He led us up to his bedroom and I ambled with deceptive pace behind him and into the room until he shut the door.
I turned to face him.
“I didn’t think I’d have this access anymore.”
With his head hung low, one hand in his pocket, Jackson rubbed that spot beneath his bottom lip. “We needed a break.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve at least thought about this arrangement we have.”
“I’ve thought long and hard about it.” He pivoted. “Why do you think you’re up here?”
Huhn?
“Pardon?”
“You tipsy enough?” I couldn’t miss the charmed humor in his eyes.
I gasped, “Motherfucker…” Jackson straightened, closely regarding my revelation. “You’ve been feeding me wine.”
“All night,” he amended without flinching.
“But I haven’t heard from you all week outside of work since LaCha
teau.”
“Didn’t I share with you my strategy of evoking action from women?”
My eyes bulged from my head. “You really set me up,” I breathed out.
“You needed time, Elle.” He exhaled. “I didn’t like the look in your eyes when you left the restaurant that night, and when I tried reaching out, you shut me out. You turned down my offers to make things right after scarring your back. It’s been hell trying to ignore you, but it seems that it worked.”
“You’re full of shit,” I scoffed my fleeting denial. “You didn’t even know I’d be here tonight.”
“What makes you think you’re here by chance?” His thick brows hiked.
Whoa! Candice did say she was told I was the woman for the job.
“Elle.” the heavy vibration of his chords snapped me out of my trance. “It’s been some time. I’ve given you a few days. I can’t take it anymore. It’s time for us to put the petty shit behind us.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the only person I’m fucking right now and my average is twice a day—sometimes more—but since I’m not in a relationship…not even in a traditional arrangement, I can go every two days without. But shit,”—he blew out a heavy breath—“it’s been over a week and I’ve missed out on quite a few sessions. Plus, something dawned on me.”
I found my face wrinkling with blunt curiosity. That prompted Jackson to continue.
“When I proposed this arrangement to you, I had you being in my bed in mind. And I’ve realized, I’ve been so damn caught up in spontaneous passion with you, I haven’t had that.”
I sobered, fumbling over my words. “Well, we…—I guess—I’ve been just fine with how we’ve been doing things.”
“No.” He narrowed his gaze, emphasizing his objection. “And I know there’s a reason why. I want to find out and I want you tonight”—he tossed his forehead, gesturing the massive bed behind him—“in my bed.” Jackson gave me a moment to process his request. “I’ve already taken the initiative to make sure you’d comply.”
I blurted, “You got me drunk.”
His head bobbed as he considered my accusation. “Somewhat. Loosened. If you were plastered you wouldn’t have been able to strut your delectable ass up here in five inch heeled boots.”
