Tropical Fantasy

by Monica McKayhan

  “Hey, stranger.” Her voice sounded like music in his ears.

  “Hey, yourself. I’ve missed you so much. What are the chances I can see you soon?”

  “I say the chances are pretty good. What did you have in mind?”

  “A nice meal...a bottle of wine...a few candles...some jazz. I know a nice spot in Midtown.”

  “Sounds wonderful. I’m stuck in traffic, but I’m on my way home. I just need to change into something nice.”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “I’ll be ready,” Sasha said.

  “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Same here.”

  * * *

  When Vince stepped into his house, a foul odor hit his nose right away. He followed it into the kitchen, where he found dishes stacked in the sink and a two-liter bottle of soda left opened on the counter. He searched for Derrick and found him stretched out on the sofa in the family room. A pillow from the guest bedroom was beneath his head, and he was yelling obscenities at the television while watching Judge Judy.

  “Hey, bro, what’s that smell?” Vince asked him.

  Derrick raised his head from the pillow just long enough to look at Vince. “Oh, I burned some popcorn.”

  “The kitchen is a mess. Did you happen to notice?”

  “Yeah, I planned on cleaning it up after Judge Judy went off.”

  “Bro, you’ve got to get it together.” Vince sat on the edge of the chair across from Derrick and looked him square in the eye. He was no good at beating around the bush. He was up front with him. “Man, my house is a hot mess. I don’t live like this. And you...bro, you stink. I don’t know when you last showered, but you really have this stench about you. And when was the last time you shaved? You’re starting to look like a caveman.”

  Derrick sat straight up. “You want me to leave?”

  “I want you to shower, bro. Run some hot water and fall underneath it. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to. My door is always open. You know that. But you’ve got to stop wallowing in your self-pity. You have a woman who loves you at home. Sure, she made a mistake...”

  “Not a mistake.” Derrick held his finger in the air to interrupt. “Bridget knew exactly what she was doing.”

  “Okay, fine. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. I don’t know, but the reality is you have a kid growing inside of her now. The question is, what are you going to do about it? I’ve known you since the ninth grade, and you’ve never been the type of guy to ignore your responsibilities. You know as well as I do that you can’t run from your problems, man, you have to face them.”

  Derrick dropped his face into his hands. “You’re right, Vince. I do have to face them.”

  “Can’t run forever. And you definitely can’t live with me forever. Not like this. Man, you are fun-ky!”

  “We lived together in college.”

  “That was different. We were both slobs back then.”

  Both men laughed this time. Derrick knew that Vince was telling the truth. But he’d shut down because he hadn’t wanted to hear it.

  “Now—” Vince stood “—I have a date with a beautiful woman tonight...”

  “Sasha,” Derrick said.

  “Yes, Sasha.”

  “You like her, huh?”

  “I like her a lot. I think I might even be in love with her, but that’s between you and me. Can’t tell a woman things like that too soon.”

  “I feel you.”

  “But in due time, I’ll let her know that I think she’s the one.”

  “I’m happy for you, bro. Sasha’s got style. She’s one of the good ones.”

  “Yes, she is. And so is Bridget. They’re from the same genes, the same roots.” Vince had given Derrick something to think about. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going upstairs to get changed. I’m going out for a night on the town. Not sure how long I’ll be gone, but when I get back I don’t expect my house to look like the Tasmanian devil’s been through here.”

  “I got you, man.”

  “I hope you do.”

  Vince danced up the stairs to his bedroom. He hit the power button on his stereo, and Frankie Beverly’s voice floated through the house. He hit the shower and then quickly dressed in a pair of jeans, a tangerine colored button down shirt and tan blazer. He slipped a pair of brown loafers on his feet and splashed cologne on his neck.

  * * *

  Sasha had a modest home in East Marietta that overlooked the Chattahoochee River. It fit her. It looked as if a workaholic lived there, though, with plants that hadn’t been watered and rooms that looked as if they’d never been used except for special occasions. Her home was neat but somewhat frigid. She, however, looked ravishing in her sexy, green dress. Her bare shoulders and lean legs had him aroused without notice. He greeted her with a strong hug and searched for her lips. Once found, he kissed them with intensity. He missed her; wanted her.

  “We’d better go before I change my mind.” He laughed. “Any longer and we won’t be going anywhere with you looking like that.”

  She quickly slipped her feet into a pair of heels and grabbed a jacket. Vince made certain her front door was locked before escorting her to the car. He opened her door, and she slipped into the passenger seat of his sports car. Before long, they were breezing down the highway.

  When they stepped into the elegant jazz spot, the hostess led them to the table that Vince had reserved. He ordered Sasha a glass of the house wine and a Black Russian for himself.

  “Maybe I wanted a Black Russian,” she teased, “or a dirty one.”

  “Would you like a Dirty Black Russian?” he asked.

  “Yes, I would,” she said.

  “Excuse me, sweetheart,” Vince called to the sexy waitress. “Can you bring the lady a Dirty Black Russian instead of the wine?”

  “Yes, I can.” She gave Vince a flirtatious smile before sashaying away.

  “Now...you remember what happened the last time you tried to drink with me, right?”

  “Yes, you took advantage of me.” Sasha grinned and Vince’s hormones went into overdrive when he thought of the Bahamas. And when she smiled, it was as if he had never seen her smile before.

  “You can’t hold your liquor, so I’m giving you a limit,” Vince told her.

  “You can’t give me a limit!” Sasha disagreed.

  “Two.” He laughed. “And that’s it for you.”

  * * *

  As the live band played a familiar melody, Vince took in the beauty of his date. He’d been a jazz buff for some time and knew many artists and arrangements that the average listener wouldn’t recognize. When the band did a rendition of an old Michael Franks tune, “When She Is Mine,” Vince sang along. The ballad’s lyrics reminded him of Sasha.

  He suddenly grabbed Sasha’s hand and whisked her onto the dance floor. He held her close as they moved slowly to the music. She was everything he’d ever wanted. When he thought of the perfect woman, it was her face that appeared in his mind.

  They spent the evening catching up on what had taken place during the week and comparing notes on Derrick and Bridget’s relationship. They danced a few more times and had a few more drinks before leaving.

  Back at Sasha’s home, Vince grabbed the keys from her hand and unlocked the door. He stepped inside, and she followed.

  “You want coffee?” she asked.

  “Love some,” he said and followed her into the kitchen.

  He looked around. The kitchen was the most lived-in room in the house. While she brewed coffee, he moved through the house and into the formal living room, where he found a bookshelf. He browsed through her books, which were mostly law related. There were a few novels sprinkled about—works such as Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God and
Toni Morrison’s Sula. It was obvious she was a fan of the Harlem Renaissance poets—she had books by just about every one of them, from Langston Hughes to Marcus Garvey.

  The living room had been used quite often also, he thought, but mostly for work. She rarely gave any attention to her works of fiction, if any. They’d successfully begun to collect dust.

  When he heard Nina Simone’s strong voice ring through the speakers, Vince knew he’d found his soul mate.

  “What do you know about that music, woman?” he asked.

  “I know a little something,” she said and handed him a cup of coffee. “My grandfather introduced me to all of this. Duke Ellington, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Etta James. I spent a lot of time with my grandfather. I have all of his old music.”

  “You’re a woman after my own heart.” He took a sip of java. It was perfectly sweetened.

  “I’m going to change into something a little comfy,” Sasha said and then disappeared.

  Vince found her music collection and flipped through the tattered album covers. Sasha definitely had an old soul, and he loved it. It seemed that they had so much in common, it was scary.

  “You should have these albums transferred to digital,” he yelled to her from the living room.

  “What?” she yelled back. “I can’t hear you!”

  “I said, you should have these albums...” Midway through his sentence he turned and looked at her. She wore a sexy, silk white nightie. It was knee-length and sheer. Her breasts were round and supple beneath the material. He softly finished his sentence. “You should have them transferred to digital.”

  She moved closer to him and placed her hands on his chest. He gently squeezed her soft breasts and kissed her lips. His hands moved to the round of her butt and caressed it softly. He slipped his shoes from his feet and Sasha helped him to remove his blazer. She carefully unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. Their lips remained together as they both fumbled with his belt buckle. He removed his jeans and his T-shirt until he was standing there in his briefs.

  He was surprised when he felt Sasha’s hand creep toward his inner thigh and massage him there. A burst of sensation rushed through him. He wanted her more at that moment than he remembered wanting anyone. Just as he was about to remove the sexy, flimsy material that Sasha wore, he thought he heard the doorbell ring.

  “Are you expecting someone?” he whispered.

  “No,” she whispered back.

  Vince slipped his jeans back on and pulled the

  T-shirt over his head. He moved toward the door. Looked through the peephole. Couldn’t really see who it was, so he tried to flip on the porch light. No luck.

  “It needs a bulb,” Sasha explained.

  “We’re fixing that tomorrow,” Vince ordered. In a strong, deep voice, he yelled toward the door, “Who is it?”

  A soft, sweet voice said, “Sasha, it’s me, Bridget.”

  Vince exhaled. Sasha rushed into her bedroom, grabbed a robe and wrapped it around her body. Vince stepped aside and allowed her to open the door.

  “What are you doing here?” Sasha asked.

  “I couldn’t stay in that house one more night by myself,” Bridget said as she stepped inside. “I started hearing things, and oh—” She noticed Vince standing there barely dressed. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Vince gave Bridget a slight wave.

  “I’m sorry, Sash. I didn’t know you had company. I tried calling, but you didn’t pick up.”

  “My phone was in my purse. Vince and I went out tonight, so I stuck it in there and forgot all about it.”

  “Um...where did y’all go?”

  “Just a little jazz spot in Midtown.”

  “Was it Sambuca?” she asked and then answered her own question, “No, I think they’ve closed down. I’m trying to remember a jazz spot in Midtown...”

  “It’s a private spot,” Vince explained.

  “Oh.”

  “Sasha, I’m gonna leave,” Vince said after buttoning his shirt and slipping into his blazer.

  “I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening,” Bridget said. “Don’t leave, Vince. Stay and finish...whatever it is you were doing. I’ll be as quiet as a church mouse. You guys won’t even know I’m here.”

  “It’s late and I should be going anyway,” Vince said and then walked toward the front door.

  “Is Derrick okay?” Bridget asked Vince.

  “He’s doing just fine.”

  “Can you ask him to call me?”

  “Sure, I’ll tell him,” Vince said.

  “Thanks,” said Bridget and then made her way toward the kitchen.

  Sasha walked Vince to the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was coming.”

  “It’s okay. I had a great time tonight. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

  “Thank you.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Call me tonight before you go to sleep.”

  He dipped out the door without another word.

  * * *

  When Vince stepped into his house and tossed his keys on the table, the smell of Lysol and other cleaning products hit his nose immediately. He went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water before turning in for the night. The dishes had been cleaned and put away and the granite counters were sparkling. Vince removed his blazer and his shirt as he walked upstairs. Outside the guest bedroom door stood two large suitcases and a smaller bag; Derrick’s luggage had been packed. He was leaving, and Vince was happy about that. The door was ajar, so Vince peeked inside. Derrick lay peacefully across the bed, sound asleep. Loud snores echoed through the house—those same snores that had caused Vince a week’s worth of sleepless nights.

  He made his way down the hall and into his own bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed and removed his watch and jewelry. He reminisced about Sasha wearing that sexy nightgown. She’d displayed the audacity that he knew she had within her. She’d looked so sexy in the flimsy material. A bolt of lightning had rushed through him when he’d set eyes on her, and when she’d touched him he’d lost all sense of time.

  He definitely loved her. No ifs, ands or buts about it. And the first chance he got, he was going to let her know.

  Chapter 19

  At dawn, Sasha stepped outside with her robe pulled tight. She grabbed her morning paper and then rushed back into the house. The chill made her shiver. The leaves on the trees had already transformed into bright shades of red, yellow and orange. She loved autumn in Atlanta. It was her favorite time, with its cool mornings and mild afternoons. When she and Bridget were younger, their family spent long weekends in the north Georgia mountains—camping, hiking and fishing with their father. It was those times in her life that she remembered and enjoyed most—sipping hot chocolate in front of a warm fire. Those times were simpler.

  She thought of Taja, a little girl being raised by her grandfather. Grandfathers weren’t particularly equipped to raise young girls. Girls needed a woman’s hand to guide them. They needed the gentleness and the wisdom that came along with it. She’d have questions soon that her grandfather wouldn’t have the answers to. Her body would change, and she’d enter puberty way sooner than anyone could prepare her for. It was true Otis didn’t have all the tools Taja needed, but Sasha loved his commitment to her. She could clearly see that he loved his granddaughter. And sometimes, that was enough.

  It was the same type of love her father had for her—the kind that moved mountains. He’d make a way when there was no path in sight. He would provide a warm place to sleep and a sufficient meal, and all the things a man needed to care for his child. For Otis, ProTek had taken so much from him; left him helpless. It had taken away his power to move mountains for his granddaughter. Sasha had the power to change things for them
.

  She spread her newspaper out on the table. When she had time to read the Atlanta Journal Constitution, she did so from front to back. She usually perused it during her short lunch break while sitting at her desk. But this morning she took her time. She rarely delayed getting into the office; she was always punctual. There was usually some fire that awaited her every morning, and she rushed into the office just to put it out. But this morning was different. She enjoyed those precious early morning hours.

  Her Keurig coffeemaker hadn’t been used in months, but she’d managed to dust it off and brew two perfect cups of decaf when she’d entertained Vince. She remembered how handsome he looked in orange. It was definitely his color, she thought as her mind drifted to the night’s events. She’d enjoyed the jazz club immensely and had heard music that she’d never thought she would like. The two of them had danced the night away and simply enjoyed each other’s company. They were as different as night and day, yet had so much in common. She’d learned so much from him in a very short time. She’d learned that life is worthless unless you follow your heart. Which is what she’d planned on doing first thing this morning.

  She would remove herself from the ProTek case. A conflict of interest now existed between her and the parties in the case, and it would be unethical for her to continue to represent ProTek against Otis. There was no way she could stand in that courtroom, look into Otis’s eyes and claim that he had been justly terminated by a company that didn’t know the meaning of the word.

  She knew that the case would undoubtedly be reassigned to Kirby, giving her rival just enough ammunition to win the battle. But it couldn’t be helped. It was the right thing to do.

  The next thing Sasha heard was someone moving in the hallway.

  “You’re up bright and early,” said Bridget, wiping sleep from her eyes.

  “I’m up early every morning.” Sasha moved the newspaper over to pave some space at the table for Bridget to join her.

  After pouring a glass of orange juice, Bridget took the seat across from Sasha at the kitchen table. “You and Vince are getting pretty cozy, huh? It looked like y’all were about to do the nasty when I showed up last night. He was breathing all hard, and you...with your little sexy nightie on underneath that robe.”