Falling For Mr. Nice Guy

by Nia Arthurs

  The minutes ticked by in agonizingly slow seconds. He folded his hands on top of his chest and allowed his mind to wonder.

  Was it a mistake to reach out to her? Had he overstepped his boundaries? Would she think he expected something in return for his concern?

  What if she hadn’t seen the text? Should he just go to sleep? What if she saw the text and was annoyed by him contacting her at this hour?

  Adam turned on his side, feeling like a high school kid after asking a girl to prom. Every minute that ticked by added to his regret. If by some miracle Jada never saw the text, he would be a happy man.

  Just as he was beginning to close his eyes, his phone chirped. Rising like a man possessed, he hauled his cell off the dresser and tapped the password into the locked screen. When Adam saw the floating message icon, he nearly fainted.

  She’d responded.

  JADA: I’M OKAY. THANKS FOR ASKING :)

  Adam read the message five times. It was hard to gauge someone’s tone from a text, but the look of it was very abrupt. The period indicated finality. Had his inquiry been unwelcome?

  Then why the smiley face?

  A headache brewed and Adam hopped out of bed in search of a cure. After popping a pain reliever and knocking back a glass of water, he returned to the bedroom and picked up his phone, casually checking the screen.

  His eyes nearly bugged when he saw another new message.

  JADA: HOW R U?

  That was definitely an open-ended question. Did she expect an equally abrupt answer from him or was she open to discussion at—he checked the time—one in the morning? Should he respond immediately or wait the number of minutes that she had when she responded to him?

  Adam decided to meet in the middle and divided Jada’s response time by half. When at last his alarm rang, he typed.

  ADAM: I’M ALSO OKAY.

  As soon as he pressed send, he regretted the willowy, unconfident tone of it and was doubly glad when Jada didn’t respond. Moaning into his pillow and hitting the mattress, Adam flailed in embarrassment for a bit before getting a hold of himself.

  “I’m never doing that again,” he mumbled.

  Women were far too complicated for his binary-coded brain. Adam determined to leave Jada alone in the future. Only then would he be able to live in peace.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jada felt strangely energetic when she woke up early the next morning. As soon as she opened her eyes, she sent a quick prayer heavenward, thanking God for a new day and then grabbed her phone to make sure she hadn’t dreamed her conversation with Adam last night.

  When the phone displayed their brief back-and-forth, she kicked her legs and squealed. He had reached out first! She could barely believe it.

  “Mff,” a muffled sound came from the bed below and Chelsea’s satin-scarf-wrapped hair appeared in Jada’s view. “What’s the use of making so much noise this early in the morning?”

  Jada smiled. “Chels, it’s after five. Didn’t you say you’d be applying for that job down at the bakery today? They have to wake up at four.”

  Her cousin clutched her chest. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  “You’re a great baker,” Jada said. “Your Creole bread is to die for. Try it out for a bit and see. You might actually like the gig.”

  “Doubtful.” Chelsea yawned and peered at her cousin. “You never answered my question. Why are you in such a good mood?”

  “No reason,” Jada sang. She shooed Chelsea away so that she could climb down the ladder in peace.

  “What is this I smell?” Chelsea bent her head and sniffed deeply. “My cupid senses are tingling.”

  “What?”

  “I have a sixth sense when it comes to love and relationships.”

  “Which is why all the men you choose to date are winners, right?”

  “Hey, it doesn’t work for me. It just works for others.” Chelsea followed her to the bathroom. “Who is it?”

  “Who is what?”

  “The guy you’re crushing on.”

  “Could I have some privacy while I use the bathroom?”

  She tried to shut the door, but Chelsea wrenched it open and sat on top of the sink while Jada waddled to the toilet.

  “At least look away!” Jada cried.

  Chelsea obliged. “Is it someone I know? Is it that Trevor guy that keeps hitting on you? Or Stanley, your primary school sweetheart? Or… no! Is it Adam?”

  Jada snorted.

  “It is! Isn’t it! I thought you said there were no romantic feelings there?”

  “That’s still true!”

  “Then why did you light up when I said his name?”

  “I didn’t!”

  Jada finished her business and pushed Chelsea off the sink so she could wash her hands. Her cousin insisted on getting in her face. “You may not be ready to admit it, but I’m rarely wrong.”

  “Rarely?”

  “Okay, it’s half and half. Did something happen recently?” Chelsea scrunched her nose and strained to remember. “He hasn’t gotten in touch with us since Sunday.”

  “Actually… he sent me a message last night asking if I was okay.”

  “Really?”

  “It was probably because he heard about the gang leader on the news.”

  “Yeah, but he knows the both of us live here and he didn’t send me a late night text. You know what that means, right?”

  “What?”

  “He’s totally interested.”

  Jada tilted her head. “I don’t think so. When he responded to me, I got the sense that he didn’t want me to take it the wrong way.”

  “Let me see.”

  Jada produced the phone and the girls bent their heads over the screen to decode the message. Chelsea made grunting noises every so often and rubbed her chin. Jada waited with a half-smile to see what her cousin’s ‘cupid senses’ were saying.

  “You’re right,” Chelsea deduced. “He’s completely uninterested.”

  Jada frowned. “Hey!”

  “I said my senses had a fifty percent chance of being wrong. The problem is Adam’s niceness. He’s so kind and considerate to everybody that it doesn’t feel all that special when he’s paying special attention to you.”

  While in her mind Jada agreed with Chelsea’s assessment, there was a part of her that was mildly disappointed by the confirmation. She didn’t ‘like’ Adam, but the thought that he wouldn’t consider looking at her as more than the woman he helped out was upsetting.

  “I… I have to get ready for work.”

  “Ah,” Chelsea shuffled out of the bathroom. “You’re always working. You make me feel like such a bum.”

  “You took me in that first year and didn’t ask for a cent of rent. I think I can wait a little while you get on your feet.”

  Chelsea flopped into bed and rolled on her stomach. “Still, don’t you think it’s a little much? You have to stock shelves at six. Then you have to clean the museum at seven. Then at lunch, you wait tables at the café. And in the evenings you go to the bookstore and then at night, you go to school.”

  “You make it sound worse than it is.”

  “If you married Adam, you wouldn’t have to worry about finances ever again.”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Go score that job at the bakery then I won’t have to work so hard.”

  “Uh,” Chelsea groaned, “this would all be easier if we found one old man with money to spare—” At Jada’s glare, Chelsea offered a sheepish grin. “I mean, yay for strong, hardworking, independent women!”

  “I’ll find a better job soon, but for right now, all that’s available are part-time gigs.”

  “I know. I’m not complaining. I just feel sorry to you.”

  “Don’t,” Jada grinned. “When you make it big time through your own hard work, I’ll be mooching off you.”

  “Ouch! You think I’m mooching?”

  Jada rolled her eyes. “Please make sure there’s hot water for me when I
get back.”

  “See yah and be careful out there.”

  She closed the door behind her and walked out, taking the stairs two at a time. As Jada walked toward the bus stop, she was surprised by the amount of activity on the street.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Curtis!” she waved to a tall man with dark skin and tattoos ranging up his shoulders to his face. “How are you?”

  Yanique Curtis was a drug dealer and used to run with the gangs, but when his wife was shot, he chose to leave the thug life behind and stick to the drug trade. Jada had heard all of their business at the beauty salon.

  She stopped in front of the woman in the wheelchair. Mrs. Curtis had beautiful brown hair and bright brown eyes. Though she had to be carried most everywhere, she never lost her spunk or her hope.

  “I’m fine, Jada. It’s good to see you. But… what are you doing out?”

  “I still have my job, Mrs. Curtis.”

  “Well, be careful. I have my Tommy to take care of me,” she smiled up at her husband, “but not everybody’s this lucky.”

  “Mr. Curtis is protecting you, huh?”

  Tommy dipped his head. “Come on, babe. We’ll be late for your swimming session.”

  Jada stepped out of the way and waved as they walked off. Something about the interaction tugged at her and it wasn’t until the couple had driven away did she realize exactly what it was.

  Driven by sudden inspiration, Jada pulled out her phone to tell her supervisor at the grocery store she’d be a bit late and hurried up the apartment stairs.

  ***

  Later that morning, Adam found himself creeping outside of Jada’s apartment complex. No, not creeping exactly… just… observing. He wasn’t quite sure why he had parked his car across the road, only that he’d been going insane at the office, had gotten into his car for a drive, and had somehow ended up here.

  She wasn’t home, so this didn’t technically count as stalking. Did it?

  The discomfort continued to build, so after a few short moments, Adam started his car to drive away when he heard a tap on the window. Immediately, his fingers flipped the latch to shut the doors.

  To his surprise, Chelsea’s scrunched face came into view and she waved when she recognized him. Feeling caught, he lowered the window and greeted her.

  “Adam!” she called and, without asking, opened his door and climbed in. “I knew it was you!”

  “How’d you find out?” he asked nervously.

  “Truthfully, there aren’t many fancy vehicles like yours around here. The next time you come to visit, try to ride in a car that isn’t so… new.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll remember that, but I actually didn’t come to visit.”

  “Oh?”

  “I had some… business in the area.”

  “Business?” she glanced around at the Chinese grocery store at the end of the street and at the lines of residential houses. “What business?”

  “You wouldn’t want to be bored with the details.” He cleared his throat. “How is everything? The air here is very tense.”

  “It is, but we gotta live, right?” She held up a plastic bag. “I just came from the bakery. Want to share?”

  “Alright.”

  She opened the bag and the scent of Creole bun washed over him. He had to admit that since coming to Belize, he’d gained a few pounds. The food here was rich and flavorful. Even the pastries were baked with love.

  Chelsea broke the bun in half and handed it to him. “Oh, this would be so good with a little condensed milk.”

  “Huh?”

  She waved her hand. “It’s a Belizean thing.”

  They munched in silence for a while.

  “Jada said you texted her last night.”

  “J-Jada did?”

  Chelsea swallowed and nodded. “You should text more often. She was really happy to hear from you.”

  The words filed into his mind and he tried to unearth the meaning behind them. Did Chelsea mean Jada was happy to hear from him because he had paid her rent? Or was she happy to hear from him… just because.

  “I-uh-wanted to make sure you were both taking the necessary precautions.”

  “What precautions?” Chelsea laughed. “If we hear shots firing, we duck. There’s not much we can do outside of that.”

  Her words concerned him. “Would you like to move somewhere else?”

  Chelsea’s mouth hung open. “Excuse me?”

  Realizing the offer might have seemed excessive, Adam strained to back up. “I mean, I know of a place in the north side. It’s safer and there’s even a park close by. The rent is very reasonable too.”

  Given Jada and Chelsea’s situation, the rent was anything but reasonable, but who could put a price on security? Adam grew more and more entranced by the idea of moving Jada… and Chelsea… not only to safety, but closer to his residence.

  “My friend owns the building. I can talk to him and—”

  “Do you like her?”

  Chelsea’s question was so out of the blue that Adam stopped mid-sentence.

  “I mean,” Chelsea licked her fingers, “it makes sense if you do. I haven’t met a man that’s spent a large amount of time in Jada’s company and not fallen for her.”

  He sputtered. “I’m just concerned. There’s nothing more than that.”

  “She said the same thing this morning,” Chelsea mused. “But I’m not crazy. There’s more to your relationship, right?” She nudged him in the side. “Look, I get that you want to protect her, but if you want my advice you’re going about it the wrong way.”

  Adam said nothing, but he did tilt his head toward Chelsea to clearly hear her words. The slim girl rolled up the paper bag containing the second half of the Creole bun and pierced him with shrewd eyes.

  “She won’t be swayed by gifts. Trust me. We’re like two different people when it comes to that. The more you give her, the more trapped she’ll feel.”

  Adam had never heard of a woman who hated gifts.

  “Don’t get me wrong. When she’s accepted you, you can give her all the gifts you want, but what matters more to Jada isn’t material things.”

  “What is it?”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes. “It’s love.”

  “Love?”

  “Yup and not just any love. Perfect love.” Chelsea nodded and patted his shoulder. “Most guys can’t live up to her standards, which is why she’s always been single. I wish you luck.”

  “Wait… Chelsea!”

  But the girl was already slipping out the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The glare of the computer screen was especially harsh. Jada glanced up and realized that the lights outside had turned from dusky reds and oranges to darkest night. She coughed and stretched, glad she’d decided to skip classes in favor of finishing her article.

  “How’s it coming?” Chelsea asked, sliding a bottle of water her way. Jada smiled thankfully and drank it back in three big gulps.

  “It’s coming. I feel so inspired.”

  “What’s the piece about again?”

  “It’s a different look on the gang crimes in our neighborhood.”

  Chelsea shook her head and leaned against the small desk. “So you still went the gang retaliation route? So cliché. You should have done something else to stand out.”

  Jada smiled. “I appreciate the suggestion, but I’m quite alright.”

  “You sound like Adam when you talk like that.”

  Jada perked up. “Adam? Have you spoken to him recently?”

  “He was hanging around here a few days ago, talking about moving us to a new place.”

  “What?”

  “I know right! I told him I’d love to, but that you’d ruin everything by throwing a tantrum and acting all offended.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I know you, Jada. You’ll act exactly like—”

  “Not about that. About Adam wanting to move us in somewhere?”

  “Oh y
eah. He said he’d use his connections to get us reasonable rent at a complex in the north side.”

  “Why would he…?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Chelsea said. “So I asked him if he liked you.”

  The blood drained from Jada’s face and she gripped the ends of her curly hair. “You didn’t! Why would you do that?”

  “Because I was curious. With men like Adam, you have to be direct because it’s easy to misunderstand. Is he just being a gentleman or is there sexual chemistry?”

  “S-sexual what?”

  “I think he’s into you,” Chelsea mused. “He was nice and sweet to me, but it’s different with you. He gets angry for you. Protective of you.”

  “Why don’t you watch television and stop talking nonsense?” Jada scooted toward the desk. Two dark hands grabbed her chair and pulled her back. Chelsea leaned over and hugged her cousin.

  “I told him all about your ‘perfect love’ crusade. And I think he was actually listening. Who knows? You may have a boyfriend before you graduate.”

  “It’s not a crusade.”

  “I know, I know.” Chelsea brushed her off. “It’s a pact you made with your mom and dad before they died.”

  “To find someone who would love me unconditionally,” Jada finished. “Perfect love. Agape.”

  “Yes, yes. I’m going to watch TV now. Hurry up and finish. I want to order fried chicken, but they won’t send anyone out here after seven.”

  Chelsea waddled to the living room, but Jada couldn’t leave their conversation behind as easily. She was glad her piece only needed to be edited and polished for every other sane thought had been driven out of her head.

  What ‘business’ did Adam have in the south side of Belize? Had he truly come out there to see her? Did his concern for their safety stem from genuine care and affection? What did that mean to her?

  When Jada was a little girl, her parents had been examples of two people in love. They did everything together in life and left together in death.

  She had grown up with the desire to marry someone like her daddy—someone honest, faithful, and kind. Through the years, she’d found few men that could fit the criteria and though she was only twenty-two, Jada was beginning to believe that the kind of love her parents had didn’t exist anymore.