by Rhonda Bowen
“I had a great time.” Perfectly even white teeth glimmered in the moonlight against his cocoa colored skin. Portia guessed veneers.
“I had a nice time, too.” She said.
He took her hand gently in his. “There’s this dinner cruise I have tickets to next week. I would love it if you would come with me.”
Dinner cruise. Dinner at a restaurant in Manhattan. A movie every now and then. All very nice, conventional dates. She stifled a yawn before nodding.
“Sure. I would love to.”
“Great, it’s on--”
The slap of footsteps on Portia’s walkway cut into the rest of Brady’s sentence. Portia’s face twisted into an expression of disbelief.
“Khai!”
“Don’t mind me,” He slipped around Portia and went through her unlocked front door. It was not entirely strange that he was there. He had been showing up randomly during the last couple of weeks after they had agreed to be friends. Usually, Portia didn’t mind. He was kind of like a stray dog, feed him once and you can’t get rid of him. But tonight, him showing up while she was with a date. That was a problem.
“Khai?”
Portia turned to look at Brady at the sound of her date’s voice. “You know him?”
“Of course he knows me.” Khai stepped back outside and grabbed Brady’s hand and to Portia’s shock, pulled him into a man hug which Brady just as enthusiastically reciprocated.
“Brady Semple. Haven’t seen you in ages!”
“Same here.” Brady grinned. “How’s business?”
“Not as good as the Mets,” Khai punched him playfully in the arm. “Hear someone might be moving.”
Brady laughed. “Yeah, there’s talk. But it’s way too early to speculate. I’m hopeful though.”
Khai nodded. “I think you got it, man...”
Portia cleared her throat and glared at both men.
“Oh, my bad. I’m sorry,” Khai stepped back. “Carry on. I’ll be inside.”
Portia’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”
Khai slapped fives with Brady. “Semple, man, good to see you. Let’s catch up when you have time.”
Brady nodded. “Definitely.”
Portia looked back and forth between the both of them. “I’m sorry, do I need to give you ladies some privacy?”
Brady grabbed Portia’s hand as Khai disappeared inside. “I’m sorry, just haven’t seen him in a while. Great guy, isn’t he?”
Portia folded her arms. “Maybe you should take him on the dinner cruise.”
Brady chuckled and pulled her a little closer. “I think you would be better company.”
Portia continued to pout.
“And you’re a lot prettier.”
The corner of her mouth wavered, betraying the smile she was trying to hold back. He unfolded her arms gently, letting her hands slide into his.
“So, Monday night?”
She sighed. “I suppose.”
He chuckled again and pulled her towards him, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Monday it is.”
She stepped back and went inside. “Call me when you get home so I know you made it safe.”
“As long as you make sure that guy stays downstairs with your brother and not upstairs with you.” He grinned as he backed away.
Portia smiled and waved as she closed the door. If only he knew. Even if he did, however, Brady had nothing to worry about. Khai was leaving right now.
Portia headed up the stairs and straight for Khai who was coming out of the washroom.
“First of all, it’s after eight. You know the rules,” she began. “Secondly, could you not see that I was on a date? Way to ruin to the mood, Khai.”
He fixed his shirt over his jeans. “I needed to take a leak. I’ve been out there for like twenty minutes.”
Portia took off her coat and hung it in the closet. “What are you? Five? There’s a McDonald’s a block away. Or better yet, take it home.”
“You know how far the drive is to my place.” Khai sank into the couch and grabbed the remote. Besides, I didn’t know you would be gone this long. Or that no one would be here. Where’s Derek? You sure he still lives here? I never see him.”
Portia slipped off her heels, flexing her toes as she leaned against the wall. “Cause he’s always at Morgan’s.”
Khai chuckled as he flipped through channels “What? She doesn’t have an after eight rule?”
“She has a roommate.”
“Ahh. Built in chaperone,” he stopped on Criminal Minds and leaned back in the sofa. “So, how was your date?”
Portia padded over to the kitchen. “Great.”
“Yeah,” Khai nodded, his eyes still on the screen. “Brady’s a cool guy. Did you know he was a first draft pick a couple years back? And he’s a Christian too. Definitely your type.”
“How do you know him?” Portia twisted open a bottle of water.
“Hey, I know good people.”
“Yes, a surprising number as a matter of fact. Especially given what you do for a living. Water?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“Great.” Portia tossed him a bottle, barely giving him time to get his hands up to catch it. “You can take it with you when you go.”
Khai groaned. “Come on, PJ. Can a guy chill for ten minutes on the couch please? I promise, I won’t even breathe in your direction. It’s just,” he shifted in his seat. “The seats in that car aren’t as comfortable as they seem.”
Portia bit back a smile. “Okay. Ten minutes. I’m gonna go change. If I hear even a shuffle towards the direction of my room, you’ll find yourself going headfirst down the stairs.”
Khai’s laughter followed her into her room where she changed out of her dress into sweats and a T-shirt and thick socks. She wiped her make-up off in the mirror but left her hair down, then turned off the light and returned to the main area.
Khai was slumped down at one end of the couch, flipping through the channels again.
“Did you eat?” She headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“Had some fries at the McDonalds.”
Portia shook her head.
“The way you eat, I don’t know how you maintain that...” Amazing body. She bit her tongue as she peeked around the fridge door to see if he had caught her slip. All she saw was tufts of blonde hair sticking up from the couch.
That was a close one.
She turned back to the open fridge. “I’ve got roast chicken and some pasta salad. You--”
“Yes ma’am.”
By the time Portia pulled the covered foil container out of the fridge, Khai was at the counter.
She shook her head. “Is there even any food in your refrigerator?”
He shrugged as he walked around the counter, retrieving a plate from the cupboard. “I think there’s some milk, eggs and expired yogurt.”
He popped a plate stacked with chicken into the microwave.
Portia smirked. “Living that bachelor life I see.”
Khai shrugged. “It’s hard to keep on top of groceries when you live between two cities.”
“About that.” Portia put on the kettle. “Why both?”
Khai opened the drawer and pulled out cutlery. “California is where my parents and brother live. My nephews, Jason and James, are out there, my stepbrothers and stepsisters.”
Portia’s eyes widened. “You have step siblings?”
Khai nodded. “On both sides. Dad remarried and had two kids with Pamela. And since Mom couldn’t be outdone, she got married and took on Brad’s kids as her own. Portia raised an eyebrow at him. “Who do you spend Christmas and Thanksgiving with?”
Khai rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Kristoffe, my sister-in-law Mandy and the kids, unless they’re with Mandy’s parents. Then it’s Dad and Pamela.”
Portia frowned. “Not your mom? As much as Derek and I are twins, if I don’t show up for Christmas dinner, Mom is upset. But if Derek doesn’t show up?” Portia shakes her head. “I
t’s like the end of the world for my mom.”
The microwave beeped and Khai opened the door. “Well after the divorce, I mostly lived with Dad. And then when he married Pamela…I guess I got close to her, being in the same house and all. Plus my mom is...quirky.”
Portia frowned and Khai smiled. “It’s hard to explain. When you meet her, you’ll understand. I know she loves me in her own way, but she’s a little out there.”
“So you guys don’t spend much time together?” Portia asked as the kettle whistled. Khai shrugged as he took Portia’s red and white strawberry decal mug from the cupboard and handed it to her.
Her eyes widened. “How did you...?”
“It’s the only one you use, Portia. Anyone who’s been here twice knows that.”
Portia knew not everyone knew that, but she didn’t say anything.
“My mom knows I love her and if she ever needs anything I’m there. But otherwise, I let her do her own thing. Works better for everyone that way.”
Khai took his plate and Portia took her mug over to the couch. Portia grabbed the remote and flipped it back to Criminal Minds.
“So you never told me how you know Brady.”
Khai put a forkful of pasta salad in his mouth. “He had a little...situation that I helped him out with.”
Portia’s head swung around towards him. “Situation? What kind of situation?”
“You know I can’t tell you that, PJ. But suffice it to say, it’s nothing you need to worry about. It actually wasn’t even his issue. It was his family, but he was getting caught up in it. Anyway, he’s good to go. You have my stamp of approval.”
Portia blew on her tea. “Gee thanks. Just what I was waiting for.”
She took a sip. When she lowered her mug, she found the swirling green pools watching her.
“So you really like him, don’t you?”
Portia shrugged. “He doesn’t bore me to death. He knows how to use a knife and fork. And he’s not bad on the eyes. And of course, he’s a believer.”
Khai turned back to the TV. “Of course. The important stuff.”
He was silent for a moment. “You ever think you put too much on that? The being a Christian thing? I mean, don’t you think there are perfectly good guys out there who aren’t religious?”
Portia wrapped her fingers around her mug and stared down into the watery contents. “Perfectly good for someone. Just not for me. You see how many rules I have, Khai. A guy who is a Christian will understand them without me having to explain and if he’s a good Christian he’ll be on board with them too.”
Khai put his plate on the coffee table. “But what if you meet a guy who isn’t a Christian who is okay with jumping through your hoops?”
Portia looked at him. “It’s about more than that, Khai. I’m not dating because I’m bored or I need something to do on Saturday night. I am dating with the intention of marriage and I can only marry someone who shares the same values I do. My values are connected to Christianity.”
“Let me ask you, how do you make your decisions in life?” She met his gaze as he looked at her. “How do you decide what is right and wrong? And when things fall into that gray area, what’s guiding you?”
He looked away and shrugged. “I don’t know. My home upbringing I guess. The things that my parents taught me, the good stuff anyway.”
“But don’t you sometimes feel...” Portia shrugged as she looked up thoughtfully. “I don’t know...uncertain? Torn? I know I used to feel that way. Like my life was a whirlwind spinning in haphazard directions. And I used to wonder what the purpose of it all was. But then, when I got into a real relationship with God.” She sighed. “It just made...sense. I knew that my life wasn’t just about going from day to day, trying to please myself, being a law unto myself. There was more. I mean, I grew up in the church and everything, but until I met Him, really met Him, I didn’t see the big picture.”
Even though he was leaning back in the couch, with his eyes on the television, Portia could tell Khai was listening.
“You talk like God walked up to you one day on the street or something.”
Portia chuckled. “It was kind of like He did. One moment my life was in chaos, the next it was...aligned. And it wasn’t like I was walking around like a hot mess before. On the outside, it looked like I had it together. But I didn’t. I was just getting by from day to day, thinking I had it together. And then, God stepped in and everything came into line.”
“Is that where the crazy routine came from?”
Portia took a sip of her tea. “No. Routine came after treatment. Routine, rules, goals, they’re all important to a healthy functional life, Khai.” She squinted at him. “You could use some routine yourself.”
Khai picked up his plate again. “I don’t know, PJ. It just seems like your life is pretty...rigid.”
Portia’s mouth fell open. “How?”
Khai raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, you schedule every moment and have rules for everything. Cutlery only goes into the third drawer. Groceries are only done on Wednesdays. You buy the same size paper towels every week when you could go to Costco and buy enough to last the whole month. You only wash your car on certain days and since I sat down you have straightened out the wrinkles on this afghan every time I move on the couch.”
Portia drew in a breath. “I have not.”
Khai leaned back and Portia immediately reached for the afghan. She froze when she caught Khai smirking.
“I just hate wrinkles okay? Is that so bad?”
Khai laughed. “No, it isn’t. But, PJ, you gotta lighten up. Be flexible. Escape this routine you have yourself on.”
She got up with a huff. “My routine works for me.”
He snorted, “You and the queen of England.”
Portia grabbed his plate and his forkful of chicken, inches before it reached his mouth. “If it wasn’t for my routine, I wouldn’t have food in this house and you wouldn’t be able to find a home cooked meal whenever your stomach got sick of McDonalds.”
Khai tumbled off the couch trying to reach for the plate as Portia took it to the kitchen.
“Hey, I was eating that.”
Portia smiled. “Sorry, it’s after eight. And your ten minutes are up. Maybe if you get here according to my schedule next time, you can have a whole meal.”
Khai groaned but Portia ignored him as she shoved him towards the stairs.
“PJ, I didn’t mean it like that.”
She took his coat of the hook and tossed it at him before hustling him down the stairs and out the door.
“Then maybe hungry men should be more careful with their words. Bye bye now.”
Chapter 9
“You know he’s blocking, right?”
Portia lifted her right leg high and rested it on the banister that ran the length of the wall as she moved into a stretch. The studio was almost empty with most of the dancers having already left after finishing Milo’s class. There was another class starting in half an hour, but not one that Milo would be teaching, so they were free to relax for a bit, stretching at the front of the room.
“What do you mean?”
Milo slid down into a forward split, her loose bun of brunette hair bouncing a little. “I mean, he’s hanging around, taking up space so that no other guys can get into your space. You know how they do.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Portia released a breath as she leaned over to touch the toes on her right leg. “He actually seemed pretty supportive of me dating Brady. You know they actually know each other?”
“Doesn’t surprise me.” Milo slid her back leg around to the front until both ankles touched. “That white boy’s more connected than the New York mafia. Probably old money. Don’t let him see your Gucci wallet. He’ll spot the fake from a mile out.”
Portia laughed. “Not really worried about that. Although you might be right, he does have that slight money glow.”
“There ain’t nothing slight about it.” Milo bent fo
rward and grabbed her toes. “I bet he has a last name like Trump, or Rumsfield or Rockefeller.”
Portia frowned as she switched legs. “Your guess would be as good as mine on that one.”
“So, still no last name?”
“Still no last name.”
Milo scoffed. “How can someone even pull that off in this day and age? Do you know all his payments go to Sherway Business Solutions? You think that’s his last name? Sherway?”
Portia stretched into a flatback pose. “Sherway...why does that sound familiar?”
Milo pulled her knees into her chest before slowly lifting her toes towards the ceiling. “You know, I should ask my neighbor’s boyfriend’s cousin Pookie to find out. Pookie knows everyone.”
“I don’t think Pookie and Khai roll in the same circles, Milo.” Portia straightened, watching her friend. “How do you do that? Every time I try, I get this arch in my back.”
Milo straightened her legs and her back. “It’s all about your core, baby. Gotta build that core strength. And trust me, core strength will be helpful in many ways.” She winked at Portia. “Many, many ways. Like when your man wants to--”
“Okay, okay,” Portia held up her hand. “No details please. My celibate ears don’t need it.”
Milo laughed. “I don’t know how you do it, girl. You must really really love Jesus.”
“I do. But that decision is as much about me as it is about Him. Trust me, keeping my legs closed has done wonders for keeping my sanity.”
Milo shook her head. “If you say so.”
With one hand on the banister, Portia pulled her left knee up and straightened it to move into a dancer’s standing split. She now did it with ease. But it had taken years of yoga and dancing to get her to this point.
Sherway. She had seen that name be--
Portia dropped her leg to the ground. “That little rascal.”
Milo looked up from her position on the ground. “What?”
“It’s not his last name.” Portia shook her head. “Sherway is the name of the street he lives on.”
Milo raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know that, Miss I-keep-my-legs-closed? You been making visits to Sherway Street?”
“Absolutely not.” Portia’s eyebrows were almost in her hairline. “You know me better than that. Rule number 16: No fraternizing--”
