That was it! I was just about to curse her out when my gaze rose over her shoulder. I gasped. I had to hold onto my desk so that I wouldn't fall out of my chair.
“What is wrong with you?” Shelly frowned and stared.
I know I had to be looking some kind of crazy, like I was having some kind of heart attack. I could feel it: my eyes were opened wide, but not as wide as my mouth, I'm sure. And my heart was pounding so hard I was sure Shelly could see it coming through my silk blouse.
But she didn't do a thing. She didn't rush to call 911; she didn't offer me a glass of water. Nothing.
Then she turned around.
“Oh!” Even though her back was to me, I could hear her grin. “Well, hello,” she said to the object of my medical alert.
I sat there frozen as Shelly's eyes wandered up Roman and then back down again.
What in the world was this man doing here?
The scene played out in front of me. I wanted to get up and stop it, stop her, stop them. But it took me a moment to garner enough strength to even push myself up. And another two moments for my legs to stop quivering enough for me to walk steady.
Shelly held out her hand to the man who had obviously come here to ruin my life. “I'm Shelly Brown. And you are…?”
Before he could say a word, I wobbled over to the two of them. “He's a friend of mine,” I answered for him.
“I know that,” Shelly said, not taking her eyes away from the man who'd turned my body and my mind inside-out. “But my mother raised me right. I'd like to address your guest by his name.” She smiled as if she was auditioning for a toothpaste commercial.
He chuckled. “Just call me Roman,” he said, taking her hand.
“What a beautiful name.” She tilted her head. “You know, you look familiar….”
“Uh, Shelly, I'm gonna have to break this up. I have a quick meeting with Roman and I have to get those numbers to you, remember?”
She nodded, but her eyes were still on Roman. “I'm telling you, I know you from somewhere.”
What was I going to have to do to get this woman out of my office?
Then she snapped her fingers. “I know. You were sitting next to me at the wedding.” She turned to me. “Your wedding.”
“Oh, yeah,” Roman said as if he now remembered her.
“So you're a friend of Kenny's?”
This was unbelievable. Shelly and I were closer to enemies than we were to friends, so why was she all up in my Kool-Aid?
I motioned for Roman to step inside of my office and closed the door (at least I didn't slam it) right in Shelly's face. I was pissed off at my boss, but nowhere near as pissed off as I was at Roman.
“What in the world are you doing here?” I kept my voice low and controlled, but crossed my arms.
“I've missed you,” he kinda whined. “Do you know how many days it's been?”
Uh, yeah. Twelve to be exact, but I ignored his question. “How did you even find out where I worked?”
He shrugged. “You mentioned it once. After I didn't hear from you, I looked it up. But,” he took a step closer to me, “what does it matter?” Another step. “I'm here now.”
He wrapped his arms around me as if I was his and he lowered his lips toward mine as if he planned on continuing the stupidity that we had started. But before he could reach his target, I pushed him away and stepped back.
“Roman!”
“What?” he asked, as if he couldn't figure out why I was upset.
“For one, this is where I work. How did you find out that I worked here?”
“You told me.”
I didn't know if that was true or not. I couldn't remember. Hell, I could hardly think now that he was in front of me.
“So I figured since we hadn't seen each other in so long, this would make for some great sex, right?”
The memories of all that we'd done rushed to the forefront of my mind, but then, I shook those thoughts away. What needed to be on my mind was getting him out of here and figuring out a way to make him stay away.
“So,” Roman leaned back on the edge of my desk, stretched out his legs, and opened his arms giving me a full frontal view of what he had to offer, “I figured you and I could get in a nooner before we hooked up later.”
Okay, it was truly time to call the police. But what would I tell them? That I'd had sex on the day before my wedding and the day after with a crazy man? And that even though he was stalking me, I couldn't stop thinking about having him one more time?
I sighed…a bit from fear, a bit from desire. “Roman, the last time I saw you was supposed to be the last time.”
“I don't know why you keep denying yourself.”
“Because I'm married,” I said, much louder than I'd planned to.
“So what?” He pushed himself up from the desk. “Jasmine, look, I know you've missed me as much as I missed you.”
Was this man stalking my brain, too?
“And we had a good thing going there,” he said as he strolled toward me. “There's no reason to give this up.”
“My reason is that I love my husband.”
“What's love got to do with it?” he said, quoting that Tina Turner song from a few years back. He laughed as if that was funny.
I didn't part my lips.
“Ah…come on, Jasmine. You can fight this if you want, but you won't win. We were made for each other.”
“No, we weren't.”
“We're sexual soul mates.”
Roman stood no more than five inches away from me and I could see every muscle that made him a man through the shirt that he wore. All I wanted to do was reach out and touch. Put my hand behind his head and lower his lips toward mine and let his mouth take its journey south.
I shuddered.
“See?” he said, knowing the effect he had on me. “I feel the same way about you.” But when he reached for me, I took three giant steps back.
“Why are you being so difficult about this?” he asked.
Unbelievable. “Do you realize how you sound?”
“Like a man who's determined.”
“No, you sound like a man who's crazy, Roman,” I finally admitted. “I don't want you. I've told you that over and over. It was a one-time mistake.”
“It was twice,” he corrected me. “And it would've happened again if that cop hadn't come into the stairs and interrupted us. And it would've been more if you hadn't left the hotel.”
Maybe it was time to call the police and just take my chances.
“Did you leave because of Kenny?” he asked. “Is he suspicious or something?”
I hated that this man had Kenny's name in his mouth and I decided that I wasn't even going to answer him.
So since I was quiet, Roman spoke. “Jasmine, now that I've found you again, I'm not going to let you go. This will never be over.”
“I'm going to say this one last time, and then I'm going to call security: whatever little thing we had is over, and I don't want you to ever come near me again.”
He bunched his eyebrows together, squinted, and poked out his lips. The intensity of his stare made me want to step away from him some more, but I stood my ground.
Slowly, he nodded, as if my mention of the police made him slow his roll. “So you're really gonna be like that?”
I didn't say a word.
After a long moment of thought, he said, “Okay.”
I was relieved, but not too much. I didn't know what “okay” meant in his vocabulary.
“Okay,” he repeated, still nodding.
“Thank you,” I said. I glanced down at a folder on my desk. “I have to get back to work.” After a few seconds of silence, I looked up. Roman was still nodding, slowly, like he was still thinking, still processing everything that I'd said.
“All right,” he said. “All right.”
He turned and strolled out of the office. Just like that. Without even a glance over his shoulder. He just walked away.
“All ri
ght,” I repeated his last words. “All right.” I released a deep breath and fell back onto my chair.
Finally.
***
Roman had energized me.
Or maybe being righteous was what had me productive. I'd gotten that report to Shelly just a minute before noon and then got a head start on several other projects. I worked like I was trying to get a promotion or something, and by the time the clock ticked to five, I felt like I'd done two weeks’ worth of work in nine hours.
Even though I'd put in a full day's work, I made it my business never to leave the office before my boss (a little secret to success that I'd learned from one of my college professors). That was never a big problem, though. Shelly was always out of there by 5:30.
Now, it was 5:31. First, I called Kenny's office. It didn't surprise me that there was no answer; I punched in our home number.
The phone didn't even ring twice. “Hello,” Kenny said.
His voice made me smile, but I kinda sighed, too. Of course, Kenny had been sitting right next to me in that business class when the professor had told us how to make a good corporate impression. But somehow, my husband hadn't internalized a bit of that. When the clock struck five in his office, he was out of there.
That was okay, though. I knew my boo was still going to be a big success. I wasn't sure how far he was really going to go with that real estate thing, but on the speaking circuit, he would be a moneymaking machine who didn't have to punch in and punch out. And with me as his manager, both of us would be working-from-home entrepreneurs.
Just thinking about all the money that Kenny was going to earn made me want to run home and do him.
“Hey, baby,” I said. “Guess what?” Before he could answer I said, “I'll be home early tonight.”
He chuckled. “My definition of early? Or your workaholic definition of early?”
It was true. Compared to Kenny, I was a workaholic. “I'm on my way home as we speak. Well,” I chuckled, “not exactly on my way, but I'm packing up.”
“That's what I'm talking about,” Kenny cheered.
“And you know what?” I said excitedly. “Let's do something special.”
“Sure, we can order in. I'll call Yee's and you can pick it up on your way home. Then we'll make a night of it.”
“Okay,” I said with an equal measure of cheer, as if Kenny's idea was amazing. I was trying my best to hang in there, but just like his idea that L.A. was a great place for a honeymoon, a “night of it” to Kenny was eating shrimp fried rice and drinking his red, always red Kool-Aid while laid out in front of the TV watching that new Cosby Show.
But I was going to work with this for now. It was going to get better. Kenny was going to be better.
“Okay, babe. Call in the order in about ten minutes,” I said. “This way, it'll still be hot by the time I pick it up and bring it home.”
“Can't wait to see you,” Kenny said, as if we'd been away from each other for nine days instead of the nine hours since we'd kissed goodbye this morning.
I melted at my husband's words. What he lacked in ambition, he made up for it in love, and in that instant, pictures snapped in my memory of how Kenny nursed me out of my grief when my mother passed away. This man had nothing but love for me, and in the end, it was his love that trumped everything.
“I love you,” I said before I hung up and then gathered my purse and briefcase. I couldn't wait to get home to my husband, to our Chinese food and our red Kool-Aid.
Chapter 13
It was just a little before six on a Monday evening, but it might as well have been the weekend with the way the parking lot had cleared out. There were just a few cars left on the entire top floor of the garage in the spaces reserved for the Carnation employees. If this had been a Monday in December, this lot would've still been full. But this was August, and Los Angelenos still had summer on their minds, no matter the day of the week.
The heels of my pumps clicked against the concrete and echoed through the garage, sounding almost like music. I slowed my step and appreciated the beat, wishing I could do it like that new rapper, Ice-T. I loved that new beat “Six in the Morning.” It was all about his life in the hood, and I'd heard that those rappers were making big money just talking about the harsh reality of their lives. Shoot, I had some stories to tell too, but since neither Kenny or I could carry much of a tune, I could forget about singing and just get to speaking.
My thoughts were on the rhythm of my steps, the money I was about to make, and the time I'd spend with my husband tonight…which was why I didn't hear a thing until it was too late.
The footsteps came first, but before I could respond, I felt the hand on my shoulder.
I screamed and spun around; with no time to flee, I was ready for the fight.
My heart was pounding when I faced Roman.
“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed. “Sneaking up on me like that?”
“I didn't sneak up.” He held out his hands and looked around. “It's broad daylight. I wasn't sneaking anywhere.”
“What are you doing here? I told you…”
“I know,” he said, not letting me finish. “That's what I want to talk to you about. I want to talk about us.”
I put my key in the lock and opened my car door. “Nothing to talk about.” I tossed my briefcase and purse inside the car.
He said, “But you never gave us a chance.”
I threw up my hands because this was getting ridiculous. “What chance, Roman? I'm married,” I said, thinking that he obviously needed that reminder.
“But I was thinking…you could get a divorce.”
My eyes widened. It was like I was seeing this cat for the first time. He was absolutely certifiable.
“Let me make this perfectly clear.” I paused, giving his brain time to settle down so that he could truly hear my words. “I love my husband.”
Roman took a step closer to me. “No, Jasmine. You love me.”
What? I opened my mouth, but then shut my lips. My father taught me a long time ago that it was a waste of time to argue with a fool.
“See?” he said when I didn't say a word. “You can't deny it.”
The only good thing about this encounter was that now I wouldn't have to work hard to get this guy out of my mind. Truly, I didn't want anything more to do with him. “I don't know what else to say to you,” I turned toward my car. Before I slid in, I said, “It would be best if you stayed away from me.”
His eyes got small. “Are you threatening me?”
When he took a step toward me, my heart started pumping just a little bit harder. My eyes scanned the top level of the garage, and though there were still five cars parked, there wasn't anyone else in sight.
I inhaled a deep breath. This was Roman--he was crazy, not dangerous. “I'm not threatening you; I'm promising you.”
He grinned as if he was amused by my courage. “You made promises to me before.”
I shook my head. There was no need to add anything else. “Goodbye,” I said, and turned to get into the car.
He was on me so quickly, so swiftly, I didn't have time to take a breath. He pushed me. I stumbled, and my chest hit the side of my car with a thud.
“Ugh!” I screamed. “Roman!”
I tried to step back, but he had me pressed against the car, his front against my back, his body locking me in place.
“Roman!”
His breath was hot on my neck. “You promised that we would always be together,” he said, and tickled my skin with his tongue.
In the past, that little move made me drop my panties, but now, his touch was repulsive. “Get off of me.” I squirmed, trying to release his grip, but I couldn't move.
“I can feel you, Jasmine,” he said. His hands slid to my chest and pinched my nipples. “I can feel how much you want me,” he panted.
“Stop it!” I was shocked at how strong and steady I sounded, even though inside I trembled.
“You want this,” he
told me. Now, his hands wandered down the side of my body.
I twisted and turned, but there was no place for me to go. I was pinned to the car.
He grabbed the hem of my skirt and yanked it up above my hips.
I screamed, but before my voice could echo through the garage, his hand covered my mouth, choking my cries.
The next moments were a blur that moved at space-shuttle speed and crawled by at the same time. I felt every second pass as Roman pushed my panties aside, then fumbled with his own pants. In another instant, he was inside of me, pumping as if I had invited him in.
“You like this, don't you?” he asked.
I couldn't believe this was happening to me.
“Didn't you tell me this was your favorite position?”
Tears spilled from my eyes.
“All you have to do is remember,” he panted. “If you remember,” he went on, still pumping, “we can go back to the way we were.”
I wept, but the sound of my cries were muffled under the weight of his huge hand that covered half of my face. Hands that had once made love to me. Hands that were now violating me. All I could do was stand there. Take it. Pray that someone would come.
Roman humped me like a dog to the rhythm of the passing seconds. I closed my eyes and tried to take myself away, but there was no escape because I could still feel him. I could still hear him.
The minutes moved on and finally Roman shuddered, grunted, and spilled his seed inside of me. For several moments, he stood stiffly, all of his weight heavy on my back. And then, he relaxed and his hand dropped away from my mouth.
I parted my lips ready to scream. But I was alone. With a rapist. Maybe if I did nothing, Roman would just let me go.
I could still hear each heavy breath that he took as he backed off. I waited a second or two, then stepped back, giving myself enough room to slip into my car. Without looking back, I jumped inside, slammed the door, and locked myself in.
My skirt was still wrapped around my waist. Not that I cared. I had to get out of there. It was hard to steady my hands as I aimed the key toward the ignition, but finally, I revved up the engine and released the brakes. Through my peripheral vision, I could see Roman still standing there and for a moment, I closed my eyes and had a dream: What if I put the car in reverse? What if I hit the accelerator? What if I backed into Roman? Rode over him, flattened his body, and crushed his heart? Would anyone ever know? Would they even care?
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