Accidental Deception

by Tina Martin

  She calmed herself, clicked on her nightstand lamp and saw a glass of water there, next to two bottles of pills. Carter must’ve left it there. Extracting one pill from each bottle, she threw them in her mouth and washed them down with water. Then she slowly stood, catching her balance and stepped out into the hallway. It was dark upstairs, but she could see a stream of light shooting up the staircase. Carter was down there somewhere. She slowly tiptoed downstairs, well-rested but hungry, looking for the man of the house before she would even consider eating something.

  She peeped in the den, saw him sitting on the black leather sofa wearing nothing but khakis and rectangular, black-rimmed glasses. The glasses added to his overall appeal, made him that much more handsome, if that was even possible. She noticed his chest and arms weren’t scary-hairy, but it was just enough hair to make him appear like a real man and not like the pretty boy type who preferred a smooth, hairless chest. His muscles were defined and tuned to precision and she was sure he was proud of his body, very confident in his sculpted frame. He had a silver Apple laptop perched on his thighs, typing like a beginner, with white earphones in both ears and an MP3 player on the couch next to him.

  She walked in a few steps so he could see her and then waved at him.

  He pulled the earphones from his ears, slid off his glasses and said, “Hey you,” happy to see her awake. “You okay? You slept for a long time…had to keep checking on you.”

  “I was pretty tired I guess.” Shayla remained standing by the door, afraid to go in without being invited. Besides, Carter looked like he was sitting in a make-shift office and manila folders were spilling out of a briefcase next to him on the couch.

  “You wanna come in and sit down with me?” Carter asked her, closing his laptop and clearing files and papers from the couch so Shayla could sit next to him if she chose to do so. He was giving her all of his attention.

  “Oh, no. You look really busy. I don’t want to intrude.”

  “It’s no intrusion at all. Come here,” he said patting the spot immediately to his right where he wanted her.

  Shayla walked over, sat next to him, so close his right leg touched her left.

  Carter threw his arm around her and asked, “So…did you sleep good?”

  Shayla nodded.

  “Better than the couch, huh?” He stared at the side of her face, massaging her shoulder. He watched Shayla close her eyes, felt her body shiver at his touch. “You smell nice.”

  “Thanks,” Shayla told him.

  “You take your medicine? I left some water on your night stand.”

  “Yeah. I took it,” she said, feeling uneasy with his shoulder rubs but she had to get comfortable with him. Maybe shoulder rubs were his thing. “So what kind of work do you do?”

  “I told you in the hospital. You don’t remember?” Carter asked, not to be a jerk, but to discern whether or not something was wrong with her memory.

  “Oh, that’s right. You said you were in…ah…banking.”

  “Yeah, global banking, and believe me, it’s as complicated as it sounds.”

  “I bet. My head hurts just thinking about it.”

  “It’s not that bad…I know the industry…it’s second nature to me now…what I’m best at.” Carter kept on massaging her shoulders.

  Shayla nervously interlocked her fingers and popped her knuckles thinking that massages were what he should’ve been boasting to be the best at. His large hand was doing a number on her shoulder. It’s a miracle that her eyes didn’t roll to the back of her head. She took his earphones from the table and put them in her ears, listening to T.I., Why You Wanna. A look of surprise came across her face. She yanked the cords to pull the plugs from her ears and said, “You like rap music?”

  He smirked. “Yeah. Why?”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed you listened to rap.” She placed his MP3 player back on the table then turned to face him again. “Hey, I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

  “Yeah, well actually I wear contacts. But I take them out at night so they don’t irritate my eyes. Been having trouble with dryness lately.”

  Shayla looked at him closer, staring in his eyes now.

  “What?” Carter asked, a smile forming on his face.

  “I’m trying to see your real eye color now that you don’t have your contacts in.”

  “You’ve seen my eye color. I wear clear contacts…not the vanity ones.”

  “Oh,” Shayla acknowledged. “Your eye color matches your hair. That’s nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Bet you get that from women all the time, huh?”

  “No. You’re the first.”

  “Somehow, I don’t believe that.”

  “Believe it,” Carter said. “I’m not with a woman long enough for her to make the color connection with my hair and eyes.” Carter threw another folder on the table and said, “Do you wear glasses or anything?”

  “No. I have never had a problem with my vision.”

  “Count yourself lucky. I’m farsighted…can’t see objects up close that well.”

  “It’s a good thing you took your glasses off when I came in then,” she said.

  Carter looked at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked frowning. Confused.

  “Nothing.” Shayla stood, preparing to leave the room when Carter caught her arm.

  “Where you going?”

  “I’m kinda hungry…going to find a snack or something.”

  “I’ll get you something to eat, sweetie.” Carter placed a legal pad and pen on the table next to his laptop.

  “No, Carter. I can get it,” Shayla said, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but couldn’t escape Carter’s tight grip. Once he secured her, his hand slid down to her hand and they walked hand-in-hand in the kitchen. He let her go when they entered.

  “So,” he said opening the refrigerator door and peering in. “What kind of food do you like?”

  “Um…I don’t know.”

  Carter looked at her and smiled. He found her shyness appealing. She was the complete opposite of every woman he’d ever met. He pushed the refrigerator door shut and asked with raised brows, “You don’t know what kind of food you like?”

  “Well, I do, but I…I don’t know what I want to eat right now.”

  “What about pizza? I can order a pizza. Is that cool?”

  “Okay.”

  Carter took his cell from his pocket, leaning up against the island, telling Shayla how he had Pizza Hut’s number programmed in his contact list like that gave him an edge over his pizza-dialing neighbors. He held the phone to his right ear, heard the voice of a woman ask if it was going to be carry-out or delivery.

  “Ah…this is going to be delivery. My number is 704-555-0021.”

  Shayla leaned against the counter, opposite of him, and watched him operate.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” he said to the representative on the phone after she asked him if his name was Carter. He covered the receiver with his hand and said, “What you want on your pizza, babe?”

  Shayla shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Um…pepperoni,” he said to the representative, motioning his hands like he was waving Shayla near, but he was really gesturing to force her to come up with some toppings.

  So Shayla said, “Olives, green peppers, mushrooms, sausage and extra cheese.”

  Carter beamed at her, repeating everything she said to the worker. After confirming delivery would be about thirty minutes, he hung up the phone. “Wow. You just made my perfect pizza.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep.” He slid his cell phone back into his pocket.

  “I’m kinda surprised you eat junk food.”

  “Why you say that?”

  Shayla’s eyes rolled down to his abs, his chest, his broad, massive shoulders. “’Cause you don’t look like you eat junk food. You’re in shape.”

  “Thanks,” Carter said. “I’m not a big junk food eater. I just like to splurge every now a
nd then.”

  “I know. I’ve seen what’s in your refrigerator.” Shayla followed Carter back to the den, watching the muscle definition in his back like it was a work of art, a sculpture hanging in a gallery for her to study.

  He sat in the same spot on the couch. So did she.

  “It’s funny you said that…that I made your perfect pizza,” Shayla said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “That was Jacob’s favorite, too.”

  “Really?” Carter said, secretly elated he had something in common with his brother. “Is it your favorite?” He threw his arm around her again.

  “Yeah, I guess. I’m not too big on olives. I used to pick them off and feed them to Jacob and he’d pretend that he was going to bite my fingers.”

  “So you don’t like olives?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then why’d you order them, just now, if you don’t like them?”

  Shayla shrugged. “Because Jacob loved them…force of habit I guess.”

  “Oh,” Carter said understanding her logic, but also seeing the danger behind her holding on to habits of a man who took his own life.

  “Its crazy how something as simple as olives on a pizza makes me feel like he’s still here with me. That’s all I have…memories, especially since Jacob didn’t have any family, well none that I know of, so whatever memories I have, no matter how silly it sounds, I hold them dear to my heart. I know it may be insignificant to you, but—”

  “I understand where you coming from.”

  Shayla leaned forward, took Carter’s glasses from the table and put them on. “How do I look?” she said looking at him. The glasses made her vision blurry.

  Carter smiled. “Gimmie those.” He pulled them away from her face. “Don’t you know you can damage your eyes by wearing glasses you don’t need?”

  “That’s a myth.”

  “No it’s not.” Carter slid his glasses back on his face then looked at her. “It’s a fact and trust me, you don’t want to be stuck with a pair of these.”

  “Why not? Glasses will give me a different look. They make you look handsome…I mean you’re handsome without them but they just…ah…um…never mind.” Shayla blushed.

  “Why do you get so flustered when you talk to me?”

  “Um…I don’t know,” Shayla said innocently, but she did know. Carter was a very attractive man with a well-kept body, a businessman with drive, ambition and money. And with money, came power. There was something intimidating about that for a young woman starting over from scratch. “You exude such a high level of confidence. I imagine all women get a little disorientated whenever you’re around.”

  He cocked a cool smirk and said, “I think that was a compliment, so thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Carter rubbed her shoulder again and said, “So what happened with you earlier?”

  “Ah…” Shayla literally bit her tongue and thought about how she might respond.

  “Come on. Talk to me.”

  “Um…this might sound stupid to you but—”

  “Shay, I’m not here to judge you. I want you to be as open and honest with me as you possibly can.”

  “Okay, well it was that cologne you were wearing…it was Jacob’s favorite…made me think of him. For a split second, I felt like he was with me but then I could only see the image of him lying on the bathroom floor…dead.”

  Carter shifted his body towards her and said, “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have worn it.” He thought about what he’d learned just in the last few minutes – how he and Jacob had the same tastes in food, now in cologne. Even though he hadn’t spoken to his brother in two years, it was comforting to know that in some ways, they were still very much alike.

  “I’m not blaming you, Carter. I guess I just broke down when I smelled it.” Shayla fiddled her thumbs, glanced at Carter’s chest, looked him in the eyes briefly and stared back down to her lap.

  Carter excused himself, ran upstairs to his room while Shayla sat there, rubbing her face. He stepped back in the family room again with a shirt on and said, “Is that better?” He didn’t want his nice body to cause any distractions now that Shayla was finally talking to him. Finally.

  Beaming with embarrassment, Shayla said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

  “It’s cool. They all stare,” Carter said with arrogant eyes. “I put this shirt on to make you feel more comfortable.”

  “Okay.”

  Carter could see her retreating to her shell right away, so he said, “You seem to do that a lot…you know…break down.”

  “I guess I find solace in my own silence and misery.”

  “Well, I don’t like it,” he said with a straight, serious face.

  “It’s just the way I deal with things, Carter.”

  “Dealing with tragedy in isolation is self destructive. You can’t do that to yourself.”

  “Why can’t I? It’s my coping mechanism. You don’t know how it feels to be in my shoes. You haven’t been abandoned on the street for the past six months. From the looks of it, you’ve been living a very charmed life.”

  Carter stared at her, trying to understand where she was coming from, but at the same time feeling like he had to defend himself. He worked hard to get where he was, and when a person works hard they have a right to enjoy the finer things in life without having to feel guilty for it, right?

  Instead of dwelling on her response or offering up a defense on his own behalf, he continued, “You can’t torture yourself forever.”

  Shayla shrugged. “If that’s the way I feel, then that’s the way I feel.”

  “But—”

  “Obviously, you don’t know what it feels like to have a broken heart…a broken spirit.”

  Carter watched her actions, her movements, her mild behavior. He peeped the way she rubbed her face, up to her hairline. She pinched her eyes shut to keep from crying. She interlocked her fingers and crossed her arms. Avoided eye contact. Signs of nervousness.

  “Sorry about your floor by the way,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about it. I had it cleaned a lil’ while ago.”

  Carter jumped up when he heard the doorbell. “That must be the pizza. Meet me in the kitchen.”

  Shayla got up, headed for the kitchen, already taking a seat.

  A few minutes later, she watched Carter enter the kitchen with the brown pizza box, placing it on the table. He grabbed two gold-rimmed China plates from the cabinet, placed one in front of her, the other on his side of the table. Shayla didn’t know if he was trying to impress her or if people of his caliber really ate something as simple as pizza out of fine China plates. Maybe I’ll get a knife and fork too, she thought, grinning to herself.

  He grabbed two glasses, filled them with ice. After setting those on the table, he took a bottle of Sun Drop, from the floor then brought it over. He finally sat down, opened the pizza box and gestured to Shayla to take the first slice. She grabbed the smallest piece, picked off the olives, took a bite and put the rest in her plate. Carter took three slices, nearly eating the first piece in one huge bite.

  “Mmm…can’t remember the last time I had pizza,” he said greedily with a mouthful.

  Shayla didn’t respond. She watched him eat, her hands interlocked as they rested in her lap.

  Carter attempted to engage her in conversation by asking, “So what do you want out of life, Shayla?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Is this a job interview?”

  Smart mouth, Carter thought, then smirked. “No, just trying to make conversation. So tell me…what does Shayla want?”

  She shrugged again. “Honestly, I don’t want anything. My life is pretty much ruined anyway.”

  “Come on now...don’t say that. It’s never too late to start over. Never.”

  “There is no starting over for me. When Jacob took his life, he took mine too.”

  “That’s not true,” Carter countered, shaking is head in def
iance. He took a sip of soda to take time out to convey his thoughts to her without being overly blunt. Shayla felt strongly for his brother. But for her to say her life was over was raised a red flag for him.

  “Well, that’s the way I feel.” Shayla took another bite of pizza. “I might as well have died with him.”

  “How can you say that?” Carter asked frowning. “Your life isn’t, or wasn’t dependent on him.” Carter wiped his mouth, dropped the greasy napkin next to the pizza box.

  “Now you’re telling me how I should feel...”

  “No. I’m just saying…you can’t throw your whole life away because things didn’t quite work out as you’d planned.”

  “Didn’t quite work out,” Shayla repeated, brows furrowed. “You make it sound like me and Jacob broke up or something. He killed himself, Carter.”

  “I know that, Shay. I—”

  “We were making wedding plans!” Shayla swallowed hard, trying to keep the hurt inside and continued. “My life was very much dependent on him. We had dreams. We wanted a family, a house. We wanted to be happy.”

  “And you can still be happy. You can have dreams with someone else. You’re still young…you’ll meet someone and build a relationship…fall in love...have a family. It’s not over.”

  Shayla’s mouth fell open. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

  “What don’t I get? All I’m saying is that it’s not the end of the world. You’ll meet someone else, Shay.”

  Shayla sighed. “I want Jacob. I don’t want anyone else.”

  “You may not right now, but it’s bound to happen.”

  Shayla shook her head, growing more irritated. “I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand where I’m coming from.”

  “Someone like me...” he repeated testily. He even dropped the slice of pizza he just picked up.

  “Yeah. You’ve never been in love so you don’t know how it feels to lose someone. It’s not easy to pick up and start over. This ain’t a movie. This is real.”

  Carter took a napkin, wiped his mouth. Sure, he’d never been in love, something that he disclosed to her but wasn’t expecting it to be thrown back into his face like this. “Let me clarify something with you. I’ve never been in love because I chose not to go that route.”