Tropical Fantasy

by Monica McKayhan

  Keira’s eyes were moist with tears, and Sasha fought back tears of her own.

  “I have to go talk to the partners. Take as much time as you need in here.”

  “Okay,” Keira whispered.

  * * *

  The partners were seated around the conference table—the same conference table that Sasha had sat at a million times discussing cases, formulating plans and being belittled by Kyle Johnson. They all had inquisitive looks on their faces. They wondered what was so urgent that Sasha needed them in the same room at the same time. She took her usual seat next to Louis.

  “I won’t take up much of your time. I know you’re all busy, so I’ll make it quick. I will be handing in my official notice of resignation, but I wanted to give you a heads-up first. Two weeks from now I will be leaving the firm to pursue other endeavors. I’d like to thank you, Louis, for giving me a chance as an intern and for believing in me.”

  “You’re quite welcome, Sasha. And you will certainly be missed.”

  “This is certainly a surprise, Sasha. Is there anything we can do to get you to stay?” asked Matt Donovan.

  “No, there isn’t. But thank you, Matt. I’ve enjoyed working with you, and I’ve learned a lot from you.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Kyle, who looked defeated.

  “I’m going to work with a friend in her private practice,” Sasha explained.

  “You’ll do well, Sasha. You’re a brilliant attorney.” Louis smiled and gave her a firm handshake. Matt followed with one also.

  “What about this firm and all the cases that you’re leaving us with? Don’t you care about that?” asked Kyle.

  “Well, there’s always Kirby. She’s certainly a capable attorney. And there are so many bright, young attorneys fresh out of law school who would do well here.”

  “What about making partner? Don’t you care about that anymore?”

  “When I leave, I will be someone’s partner, Kyle.”

  “And Louis’s corner office with the view?” Kyle seemed to be in the mood for a debate.

  “Not so important anymore.”

  “What changed your mind?” He was certainly inquisitive. “Was it Kirby?”

  “There were many factors, Kyle. The least of which was Kirby.”

  “Well, Sasha, I wish you the best,” Kyle finally said, “but keep my number just in case. It’s a rat race out there. You might need it.”

  Sasha didn’t bother to respond to his comment. Instead she stood and said, “Well, gentlemen, thank you for your time.”

  “Sasha, if you don’t mind, I’d like a word with you first,” said Kyle.

  Realizing that he meant he wanted a private word with Sasha, Louis and Matt stood, left the room and closed the conference room door behind them.

  Kyle moved inappropriately close to her.

  “Why are you really leaving, Sasha? Is it because I’ve neglected you?” His finger reached for her face, and she grabbed it before it reached its destination. However, Kyle didn’t stop there. He grabbed her by the waist and tried to kiss her. She pushed him away and slapped him.

  She left the conference room in a hurry. She felt free. For the first time in a long time, Sasha Winters felt free.

  Chapter 24

  Thanksgiving had always been a big deal in the Winters family, particularly since November was also the month of Sasha’s parents’ wedding anniversary. Each year, the family would gather for a dinner party and celebrate the couple’s life and love. They’d invite friends and family near and far. Usually the event was catered and would take place at the family’s five-bedroom home where Sasha and Bridget grew up. And this year was no different.

  The house was decorated in different shades of red with black undertones. Vases filled with red roses adorned every table in the room. Red and black streamers hung from the ceiling. Sasha’s uncle Richard played soft music on the grand piano in the living room. Occasionally his wife would join him in a duet, or one of Sasha’s cousins would jazz up an old song. Love was definitely in the air.

  Sasha usually wore something demure—a simple pantsuit or a modest dress, one that she’d wear to church or to the office. But this year, she looked ravishing in the red midthigh-length cocktail dress, the one that Vince had picked out when they spotted it at Cumberland Mall several weeks before. They’d met at the mall for a matinee at the movie theater—after which they’d popped into every store just to take a look at the merchandise. That was back when he had a presence in her life.

  She’d thought of him often over the past few weeks. She missed him—missed his smile. She missed his quirkiness and their long conversations about their past and present lives. She missed how he looked at her with desire and how he made her body feel so alive every time he touched her. She missed his cologne and those valleys he called dimples.

  “Do you think this is too sexy?” She had popped out of the dressing room at Macy’s.

  He’d been speechless for a moment, but had managed to say, “Wow—I think it’s absolutely sexy and perfect on you.”

  “You think so?”

  “Did you look at yourself in the mirror before you came out here?” he’d asked.

  “Yes.” She blushed.

  “Obviously you didn’t. Come here.” He grabbed her and took her to a mirror. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

  She and Vince hadn’t even defined their relationship. They hadn’t even discussed where it was headed. They never got to that point. They were living in the moment, and she had enjoyed every minute of it.

  * * *

  When Sasha walked through the door at her parents’ house, every eye was on her. Besides the sexy dress that she wore, her face was glowing. Her mother was the first to approach her.

  “Well, look at you, Sasha Winters. You look...”

  “Fabulous,” said Bridget, who had quickly approached. “What the heck is going on with you, Sasquatch? You look...”

  “Beautiful,” said her father, who gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Baby, you look breathtaking.”

  Charlotte took Sasha’s hand. “Your aunt Myrtle has been asking for you all night. You should go say hello to the old woman.”

  Aunt Myrtle was Charlotte’s older sister and Sasha’s favorite aunt. She was Sasha’s complete opposite, but someone she’d like to be in her next life. Aunt Myrtle was witty and outspoken. She was the life of the party, with her diva wig to the side and a dress that crept well above her knee. She was always accompanied by a man who was half her age.

  “Is that my ladybug?” she asked.

  “Hey, Aunt Myrtle.” Sasha gave her aunt a hug and made reference to the young man standing a few feet away. “I see that some things never change.”

  “You know your old auntie is still full of life.” Aunt Myrtle winked and held her drink in the air—a vodka with orange juice, her favorite. “And look at you. Who’s the new man?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, honey, it’s so obvious. Your face is beaming like the sunshine. And that dress...girl, you are wearing the hell out of that dress. If I was twenty years younger and about thirty pounds lighter, I’d squeeze my big behind into that one. Yes I would.” Aunt Myrtle giggled. “So tell me about him.”

  Aunt Myrtle had always been someone she could talk to and share secrets with.

  “He’s gorgeous, of course,” said Sasha. “Intelligent, mysterious...the perfect gentleman.”

  “You love him?”

  “We’re not together anymore.”

  “It isn’t that funny-looking guy your sister brought here tonight, is it?”

  “What guy?” Sasha asked.

  Before Aunt Myrtle could respond, Bridget popped up out of nowhere.

  “And this is my sister, Sasha,” she was saying.r />
  When Sasha turned around, she was face-to-face with a short, vanilla-colored man dressed in gray slacks and a simple white dress shirt.

  “It’s so nice to finally have a conversation with you, Sasha. Your sister has told me so much about you. I’m Paul.” He held out his hand.

  Sasha took his hand in a firm handshake. The infamous Paul who drives around town in a Maserati, she thought.

  “Nice to meet you, Paul,” Sasha said cordially.

  “Bridget tells me you work for a firm in downtown Atlanta.”

  “Johnson, Johnson and Donovan.”

  “Yes, I’m familiar with the Johnsons,” said Paul. “I play golf with Kyle.”

  “How nice,” Sasha said, and then attempted to walk away. “It was good meeting you, Paul, but I really have a lot of mingling to do.”

  “You think we can go out sometime, maybe for a bite to eat or a movie?”

  When hell freezes over, she wanted to say. But instead she was interrupted by Aunt Myrtle.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt whatever you got going on here, son,” said Aunt Myrtle, “but I need to steal my niece away for just a moment.”

  Before Paul could protest, Aunt Myrtle had grabbed Sasha’s hand and whisked her away to the opposite side of the house.

  “Thank you so much, Aunt Myrtle. I owe you one.”

  “I figured you needed to be rescued.” Aunt Myrtle smiled. “Now, tell that sister of yours to mind her own business and stay out of yours. Why did you break up with your sweetie anyway? Did somebody cheat?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “Is he gay?”

  “Aunt Myrtle, you’re something else.” Sasha laughed aloud this time. She loved her aunt.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “No, he’s not gay. He would’ve loved you.” Sasha smiled.

  “Most people don’t really know how to take me,” Aunt Myrtle said and handed Sasha her glass. “Now, go get me another drink, would you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Sasha as she crept across the room, making sure to carefully avoid any interaction with Paul again.

  She maneuvered to the wet bar, which Derrick stood behind pouring drinks for the guests. He’d been designated as the bartender for the night.

  “What’s up, Sasha?” He grinned.

  “Hey, Derrick. I need a vodka and orange juice.”

  “Is it that bad? You’re drinking vodka and orange juice now?”

  “It’s for Aunt Myrtle.”

  Derrick laughed and pulled a shot glass from the shelf. “One vodka and orange juice coming up.”

  “And I’ll have a Black Russian,” said the familiar voice behind her. “No, make it a Dirty Black Russian.”

  Vince leaned with his elbow against the bar and moved in closer to Sasha. He looked dashing in his black suit, and his cologne danced across her nose. His smile was grander than the piano in her parents’ living room, and his eyes longed for her. Someone had invited him, and she wasn’t sure whom, but she was happy to see him.

  Derrick handed the vodka and orange juice to Bridget, who had walked up.

  “I’ll take this to Aunt Myrtle.” She winked at Sasha.

  Derrick made Vince a Dirty Black Russian and placed it on the bar.

  Vince grabbed the drink, never removing his eyes from Sasha. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  “I don’t know where we would go. There’re people in every inch of this house.”

  “Except the garage,” Derrick interrupted. “Nobody’s out there.”

  Sasha gave him a sideways look and rolled her eyes at him. Vince followed Sasha as she led him through the house, through the kitchen and to the garage. Her father’s old truck was parked out there. Tools hung along the walls, and a riding mower sat in the corner. Sasha took a seat on her father’s workbench.

  “You cold?” Vince asked.

  Sasha nodded a yes and he removed his jacket and wrapped it around her bare arms.

  “I’m sorry, Sasha. I was so wrong. I judged you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt. I heard what Otis said, but I didn’t give you the opportunity to tell your side of the story.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

  Sasha’s heart was racing. She wasn’t over Vince as she’d pretended to be.

  “It really hurt when you walked away like that and didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

  “All I kept thinking was that I couldn’t be with someone who could treat a human being that way, a woman who could think only of her career and not the livelihood of someone in need.”

  “After my conversation with Otis, I knew that I had to remove myself from the case. That’s what I was trying to tell you at the gym...that his facts were wrong. That I wasn’t the attorney handling his case anymore. But everybody’s emotions were all high...and...”

  “And your man was being a fool.” He finished her sentence.

  “Were you my man?”

  “I felt like I was your man. I felt like you were my woman.”

  “If I was your woman, you should’ve protected me.”

  “If you allow me to be your man again, I’ll never fail to do that again.”

  He was wearing her down. Her emotions were in a tizzy.

  “Can I have another chance to take care of you, to protect you, Sasha?” Vince caressed her face. “Can I be your man again?”

  “I don’t know if...”

  “I’ve missed you so much. My life has not been the same without you in it. I need you, Sasha. I love you,” he whispered.

  Before she could respond, he’d pulled her up from the workbench. His lips touched hers. She didn’t fight it. She embraced his kiss. His tongue danced inside her mouth. He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close. He stayed that way for a long time—until she agreed to give him another chance.

  * * *

  Vince unlocked her front door. He wrapped his arms around her from behind as they went inside. She went directly to her bedroom and Vince followed. She stood at the edge of the bed and Vince began to undress her. He started with her heels. He took them off one by one and tossed them across the room. He slowly unzipped her dress and lifted the spaghetti straps from her shoulders. Very carefully he eased the dress from her body, all the while planting kisses along her neck and shoulders. He unsnapped her strapless bra and removed her panties.

  Sasha lay across the bed. Leaning up on her elbows, she watched as he undressed himself. He quickly tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner and removed his shirt. She helped with his buckle. She liked that part. It gave her a thrill to undo his pants. She loved the anticipation in his eyes when she touched his tender places. He stepped out of his pants and quickly removed his briefs.

  “Wait a minute,” she whispered. “I forgot something.”

  She rushed into the living room, sorted through the tattered album covers and found Nina Simone’s. She pulled the album out of its cover and placed it on the turntable, and Nina’s voice echoed through the house, bouncing from the walls.

  When she returned to the bedroom, Vince lay flat on the bed. He reached for her and she climbed on top of him. Her lips found his. He kissed her breasts with a beautiful gentleness before pulling her down onto him. They moved in a certain rhythm—one that only the two of them knew. It was as if their bodies had a language of their own, and they were the only two who understood it. He flipped her over onto her back, slid between her legs and pushed his way into her body again.

  After the lovemaking ended, Vince collapsed onto the bed next to Sasha. He held her in his arms tightly, their legs intertwined.

  “I quit my job this week,” she said softly.

  “You did wh
at?” Vince leaned up over her and looked at her with amazement.

  “I gave the firm my two-week notice.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m going into private practice with a good friend of mine,” she explained. “I realized that I wasn’t happy at Johnson, Johnson and Donovan. That I wasn’t the least bit fulfilled. I want to be in a place where I can help people like Otis to fight the big companies that prey on the average man.”

  “He wants to talk to you, by the way. Wanted to apologize for everything that went on.”

  “He doesn’t owe me an apology. I commend him for fighting back. Perhaps he’ll let me represent him once I leave the firm.”

  “You would do that?”

  “I would be honored,” Sasha said. “I’d get him a nice settlement.”

  “He found another job. And a car, too. He and Taja are doing well.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I’m so happy at this moment, Sasha. You don’t know how lost I was without you.”

  “Did I hear you say the L word in my parents’ garage?”

  “What, that I love you?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s exactly what I said...I love you, Sasha Winters.”

  “I love you too.”

  With that, Sasha fell asleep in his arms. All was well in her world.

  When the sunlight crept across her face the next morning, she opened her eyes and looked at Vince. He slept peacefully in her bed, and her life felt complete. In her parents’ garage he’d asked to be her man, and her heart danced. It was what she’d wanted—to define their relationship. Put a label on it. She was his woman, and he was her man. And that was all that mattered.

  Epilogue

  Donny Hathaway’s “This Christmas” played loudly through the room. It was a song that always got Sasha in the mood for Christmas. It was her favorite Christmas song ever. She hung up with her client and stepped out of her office then planted her behind on the edge of Keira’s desk. Robin danced through the office carrying a bottle of champagne and three glasses. She handed Keira one and Sasha one, and then carefully poured champagne into each of their glasses.