by Linda Verji
“Hi, Olivia,” he greeted her with a thin-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes and had none of the wickedness she’d grown accustomed to.
“Hi,” she returned, amazed that her voice didn’t shake with the nervousness pulsing through her.
“It’s good to see you,” he murmured politely, holding his water-bottle against his chest like an armor against her.
Fisting her hand to her side, she said just as politely. “Good to see you too.”
“Nice class.” His voice was strangely respectful and there wasn’t even a hint of teasing when he said, “Very energetic.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” Her own voice sounded very strange and hollow to her ears. Almost as hollow as this conversation. Say what you will about hers and Marcel’s relationship but their conversations had never been bland. Angry sometimes, playful recently, taunting at times, sarcastic even… never, ever bland.
The politeness between them rankled. She hated this polite Marcel. She wanted her Marcel back. The one who met her toe for toe with sarcasm. The one whose wit and quick silver tongue were as biting as hers. The one whose up and down once-overs could turn her insides into mash. The one who’d kissed her silly…
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” polite Marcel murmured.
“Okay.” She swallowed convulsively. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.” He turned away - without even giving her one of his heated once-overs.
Her hand flew to her throat as she watched him leave. She ached to call him back so they could talk. About what? That was the problem. What was there to talk about? Certainly not the kiss they shared. Nothing could come of it because of their relationship to Tay. Tay’s invisible presence was like an impossibly high steel wall between them. There was no smashing through or jumping over him.
Marcel maintained the same unfailing politeness on Saturday during the soccer game. It made her want to throw one of the balls at his head or whistle shrilly in his ear to wake him up and force him to stop it.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on the emotions circling inside her. That kiss had broken something between her and Marcel, and it made her… well, sad. Yes, that was the word. Sad!
Later that evening, she curled up on the couch with her blue wig on, Mr. Ted in her arms, a tub of ice-cream on the seat beside her, and Madea movies playing on the screen. Usually the big woman could draw endless chuckles from Olivia but today the best she got was a snort. Then Olivia made a mistake of watching I Can Do Bad All By Myself. By the time Lex called her, her eyes were leaking like a broken faucet.
“Yow, are you watching Hooks? It’s crazy, right?” Lex yelled out the moment she picked the phone. “Didn’t I tell you Portia would kill Alonso? She killed him. Dead. Liv, deaaad.”
Olivia sniffed. “That’s nice.”
Lex caught on immediately. “Babe, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she answered on a watery whimper.
There was a long pause on his end then he said, “Come over.”
If it was anyone else, her pride would’ve pushed her into saying she was okay and it could wait until morning. But this was Lex. Gathering Mr. Ted and her keys, she left the house. Lex’s house was barely fifteen minutes from her place, within the University grounds and tucked between a row of similar bungalows.
He was waiting for her outside his door. She trudged from her car and straight into his arms. His embrace was comforting as always and by the time he led her into his house sadness’s vice-grip over her heart had eased.
“You should’ve seen him,” she said a couple of minutes later as they cuddled on the couch with Hooks playing on low volume on the TV. She twisted her lips and sneered. “So polite.”
Lex laughed. “You’ve got to be the only woman who hates it when a man is polite to her.”
“Not any man. Just Marcel. We’ve got this thing…” Olivia looked at the ceiling trying to find the words to frame hers and Marcel’s ‘thing’ in a logical way. But couldn’t find them. She sighed. “I don’t know.”
“It feels like you’re tiptoeing around each other?” Lex filled in for her.
“Exactly.” She nodded. Turning her head slightly to look at him, she said, “I want to things to go back to the way they were.”
“That’ll be hard.” Lex rubbed her arm. “I mean you kind of opened the floodgates with that kiss.”
“I know.” She released a heavy gush of breath. “But I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened.”
For a moment they stared at the TV in silence, then Lex said, “Maybe if you give it some time, things will settle back to the way you’re used to.”
Olivia wrinkled her nose. “You think.”
Lex shrugged. “I mean he’s still coming to the gym, isn’t he? That’s got to count for something.”
“I guess.” She sighed. Hopefully Lex was right and given time she and Marcel could go back to the way they were before The Kiss. And if they didn’t…
Less than five miles away, Marcel was attempting to have fun and failing miserably. Tipping his beer to his mouth, he stared blankly at the stage. Around him the atmosphere was a hyped up jungle of rock music blasting from speakers and drooling men with more money and alcohol in their systems than common sense. Their inhibitions were further reduced by the scantily clad women circling the room ready to grind on their laps at the drop of a dollar.
Everyone was on tenterhooks as they waited for the next girl on stage. Tay, who was seated next to Marcel, had already removed his wallet and was leering excitedly at the closed curtains.
“Alright, alright, alright,” a voice boomed from the speakers. “Are you ready for Officer Diamond.”
“Yeah,” he received deep voiced cheers from the men packed in the club. Tay was as rowdy as the rest of them yelling out his own “Yeah,” while Marcel uttered a bored sigh.
“I said are you ready?” the invisible announcer boomed.
“Yeah!” A sexy beat kicked in and the curtain slowly opened to reveal a strawberry blonde ‘cop’. Somehow Marcel doubted the local PD allowed their female cops to wear such short shorts, tight shirts tied at the waist or such high heels.
“Shiiiit!” Tay gasped as Officer Diamond strutted to the pole in the middle of the stage in time to the throbbing music and twirling her handcuffs.
Marcel watched on with casual disinterest.
His bad mood was Olivia’s fault. Ever since their ill-advised kiss, he hadn’t been himself. The awkwardness between them in the days after hadn’t helped much either. He’d expected that a night out with Tay watching beautiful, naked women strutting their stuff would erase Olivia from his thoughts, even if it was just for the night. But so far it wasn’t working. Neither was the beer. He’d been nursing this same bottle since they’d walked in because it tasted like stale straw.
Damn Olivia.
On stage Officer Diamond was down to a leather bra and leather thong gyrating to the throbbing music and cheers of the men watching her. The g-string she wore hid nothing from view. When she lay on the floor, writhing back and forth in mimicked orgasm, all her assets were revealed to the crowd. They roared in approval spilling even more dollars on stage. Even Tay tossed a few dollars into the green mountain by her feet.
Marcel just stared.
Even Officer Diamond tossing her g-string his way and shaking her sizeable boobs in front of his face wasn’t enough to yank him from his jaded stupor. He closed his eyes and groaned. His mood must be worse than he thought if he couldn’t even get it up for a naked woman.
Damn Olivia!
“I told you this would get you out of your funk,” Tay leaned closer to Marcel once Officer Diamond left the stage. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Marcel agreed with a fake grin. Everyone had noticed his foul mood. Sebastien knew to let him work it out but as usual Mr. Fix It Tay kept prodding. To shut him up Marcel had blamed it on work. The strip club was Tay’s way of bolstering his mood.
&nb
sp; “Wait until I get you my favorite girl,” Tay said, his voice merging in with the announcer’s pronouncement of a new girl. He added, “You’ll love her.”
Marcel protested, “I don’t want a girl.”
“Bullshit!” Tay dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Candy will blow your mind. The things she can do with her tongue.”
Marcel was sure Candy was very good at her job, but he wasn’t in the mood for her… or any woman. As Tay raised his hand motioning for one of the girls circling around the club, Marcel set his beer on the table and pretended to pick a call. Then leaning to Tay, he pointed to the phone said, “Sebastien. I’ve got to pick it.”
While Tay was rounding up his girls, Marcel left the club. The night air’s chill smacked him in the face as soon as he left the building. His arms folded across his chest, he leaned against the wall and stared at the parked cars.
What was he even doing here? If the aim was to forget Olivia, and it wasn’t working, why bother going back in? Deciding that the night was a burst, he texted Tay.
Emergency. Had to go. Took a cab.
There was no reply from Tay. He was probably face deep in some stripper’s boobs, which worked for Marcel because he really didn’t want his friend chasing him down. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. There were cabs parked all around him but his odd mood required some walking off. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he strolled down the street.
The city was alive with revelers and late-night stragglers alike. A few people threw Marcel smiles as he passed them. He returned their smiles with a distracted one of his own as he sank back into his thoughts of Olivia and the kiss.
Granted it’d been one for the books and having her in his arms had felt so right. But that kiss might’ve done irreparable damage to their friendship. Which only worsened his mood because (a) it’d never crossed his mind that he and Olivia were friends and (b) he hadn’t realized how much he valued their friendship.
Keeping her at arm-length, treating her like she was some casual acquaintance, faking politeness… it irritated the hell out of him. He missed the easy friendship they’d established. When and how that friendship had happened didn’t even matter. All that mattered was that they’d once had it and now it was gone.
“Free soda with your burger,” a man dressed as a burger yelled out from outside an open diner, interrupting Marcel’s thoughts. “Free soda with your burger, sir.”
Marcel shrugged. Why not?
The diner was empty except for a couple snogging in a booth and a rough-looking biker who was ogling the flirty waitress. Marcel passed the couple and settled in a booth far away from them with his back to them. The last thing he needed to see was people getting it on.
“What can I get you?” the waitress asked.
He thought of getting the burger but wasn’t in the mood for food. “Just coffee.”
Watching the people passing by, he sipped his drink. A couple strode by hand-in-hand and giggling, drawing Olivia back into his thoughts.
Avoiding her had seemed like the best solution to their dilemma. After all, how could he go back to friendship when he’d already had a taste of her? It was like being forced to go back to black and white movies when he’d already had a glimpse of HD quality. But then again, this wasn’t even black and white. It was before black and white, BBW, which was basically like having nothing.
And he hated it.
He liked having Olivia around him. After almost half a year of her being in his life it was strange for her not to be there. His days felt empty. It was what had pushed him to go to Body & Spirit despite his resolve to avoid her. Her pull had been too great. But those brief ‘polite’ glimpses had only worsened everything because now all he could see was her guard going back up whenever he came close to her.
No. This situation was unconscionable.
It was just a kiss. They were grown enough to move on from it; to be friends again. He would rather have black and white than this… this empty state. They could fix this. He could fix this.
Before he could change his mind, Marcel extracted his phone from his pocket and dialed her number. As soon as he did, his heart began to beat with nervous rapidity. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have called her. Why was he-
“Marcel?” Her achingly familiar voice cut into his doubtful thoughts.
Marcel swallowed then pushed the words through his dry throat. “Hey, Olivia.”
“Hey,” she returned.
Now that he had her on the line he didn’t know what to say so he settled for, “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she said. After a brief pause, she asked, “You?”
“I’m fine.” They were back to those stupid polite inanities again. Something in Marcel’s stomach constricted painfully. Holding the phone to his ear, he closed his eyes and sighed.
“Marcel, are you there?” her soft murmur drew him back.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Propping his elbow on the table, he rubbed his forehead and tried to think of something to say. All he could come up with was, “We should talk.”
There was such a long silence on her end that he began to think she wasn’t there. Then she said, “Okay. When?”
“Now,” he said without thought. It hit him too late that it was past ten and she was probably in bed already.
Before he could backtrack, she said, “Okay. I’m at my house.”
Aw, hell. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight. The thought of being face to face was even more nerve-wracking then talking on the phone. But their friendship needed fixing. And if tonight was the only night that could happen, then tonight it was.
CHAPTER 16
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Olivia muttered as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. “It’s just Marcel. You don’t have to change for him.”
She was still in the comfortable, blue hoodie and black joggers that she’d gone to visit Lex in. Perfectly fine for Marcel too, she told herself. He was probably only coming to berate her for kissing him. She didn’t need to primp for him. She was fine the way she was.
Wait! She leaned closer to the mirror. Was that a chocolate stain above her right boob? That wouldn’t do. It was bad manners to meet people with stains on your clothes. That was a rule somewhere, wasn’t there? She drew the hoodie over her head and dumped it on the floor. Since she was getting rid of the hoodie, why not change her that too thin top too. Her basic black bra with a small tear on the side wasn’t cutting it either and the panties… no lady should walk around with underwear that didn’t match.
With those very logical conclusions in mind, Olivia slipped into a pale blue lacy bra and a pair of sexy bikini cut panties that matched perfectly with it. No, she wasn’t hoping that Marcel would rip them off her. She was preparing in case she got hit by a bus or something… you never know what could happen.
After tugging a loose fitting tank top over her head, she replaced the joggers with a pair of navy shorts that stopped just below her ass. No, she was not trying to show off her legs. She was getting comfortable, not sexy. She ruffled her hair out of the comfortable bun, ran a comb over it then fluffed the wild curls around her shoulders. She was about to gloss her lips when it hit her. She should brush her teeth. No, not because she was hoping to get kissed. Because she was all about good hygiene.
She’d just finished glossing her lips when her buzzer sounded. Immediately her chest started a lively staccato rhythm and her pulse sped up in nervous excitement. He was here.
Touching her palms over her hair in quick pats, she hurried towards the door. Realizing what she was doing paused in her steps. She pulled in several long breaths to calm her jittery nerves then released them in a gush. When she reached for the door knob, her heartbeat had slowed down and her expression was blanked of all emotion. But the moment she threw open the door and saw him, all the anxiety and excitement came rushing in.
He looked good; from the black jacket zipped to his Adam’s apple, to the pair of dark jeans that clung to his m
uscular thighs. His gaze swept over her just as thoroughly, taking in her bare feet, shorts and tank top with dark eyed intensity that had her clenching her lower tummy. When their eyes locked immediate tension flared between them.
Her fingers digging into the door’s wood, she said through her suddenly dry lips, “Hey.”
“Hey.” His voice was raspier than she was used to.
“Come in.” She stepped back and waved him inside. Acutely aware of him kicking off his shoes behind her, she closed the door. She took a deep breath to calm her racing pulse before turning to face him. When she did it was to find him shaking off his jacket to reveal the navy t-shirt.
“Let me get that for you.” She reached for his jacket.
“Thanks,” he said politely. Averting her eyes from the tempting sight of his revealed muscular forearms, she turned to the wall mounted coat rack beside the door. Tempted as she was to bury her face into the jacket and inhale more of his masculine scent, she hung it up. By the time she turned back, Marcel had moved towards the recliner and settled in it.
The recliner that was furthest away from the corner couch and could only sit one person.
Disappointment filled her, but forcing a smile, she said, “Have you eaten, I can-”
“No, I’m good.” The tightness in his tone was enough to tauten the knot in her stomach. He was about to tell her that he couldn’t be around her, wasn’t he?
Her legs heavy as lead, she walked to the sofa and settled on the edge looking at him. She expected him to launch into his goodbye speech, instead he turned his eyes to the TV. A Madea Christmas was playing on screen on low volume. He watched for a moment then his lips twitched in a smile. “I didn’t know you were a Tyler Perry fan.”
“Yeah, well.-” she started then stopped. She couldn’t do this; pretend like the tension between them wasn’t there and quip back something witty. She wanted this over as quickly as possible. Squaring her shoulders, she sat up on the seat. “Marcel, you said you wanted to talk.”
