by Tina Martin
“Tiffany,” he said to get my attention.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “We can play cards.”
We spent the next hour playing every card game under the sun. I never knew I could have so much fun playing Go Fish. Then at 1:00 p.m., we had lunch. Derrick had made us ham and cheese subs. He brought chips and cookies and fresh cut fruit.
Derrick talked me into getting in the cold water after lunch, and we played around like children. It was close to three o’clock when we dried off and went back into the cabin. My cell phone went off about the same time. I rushed to get it out of my purse. When I saw it was Reggie, I hesitated to answer. Derrick was standing near me, drying off his upper body. I would have rather had the enjoyment of watching him than being distracted by a phone call.
“Hello?”
“Hey…what’s up? I been out here ringing the doorbell for the last few minutes.”
Reggie must have seen my car parked out in front of my apartment and assumed I was home.
“Reggie, I’m not home,” I whispered. “I won’t be back until tomorrow night.”
“Where are you?”
Reggie’s question escaped me when I set my eyes on Derrick again. Those chiseled abs of his appeared to be rock hard as he rubbed himself down. My eyes rolled from his face, down to his navel and back up again. Mmm, mmm, mmm. He saw me staring and smiled. His body was tight, and as I watched, I was thinking to myself how dangerous and intriguing a man could be when he knew just how freakin’ hot he was.
“Helloo?” Reggie said.
“Yeah…I’m here,” I said, but never taking my eyes off Derrick.
“Where are you?”
“I’ll be back tomorrow night, okay. I’ll catch up with you later.”
I had to keep it short with Reggie. I set my ringer to vibrate then put the phone away in my purse.
“Can you get my back?” Derrick asked, handing me his towel. I happily accepted. His back was muscular and manly, firm and fit. I rubbed him down with the towel, then touched his cold skin with my bare hands to make sure the dampness was gone.
“Is that good?” I asked him.
“Yeah. That’s perfect.”
I sat down on the round bed and exhaled deeply. I was tired. Getting up five o’clock on a Saturday morning was catching up with me, not to mention playing cards and swimming in cold water.
“What’s wrong, Tiffany? You all right?”
“I’m tired and my shoulders are stiff.”
“I can take care of that.”
Derrick sat on the bed, motioning for me to come sit between his legs. He lowered the straps to my shirt, made me close my eyes when his fingertips swept across my back.
Then he firmly, yet gently used his strong hands to massage my shoulders. It felt so good, I tilted my head back towards him and let myself go. He traveled up the length of my neck with his right hand, up to my chin, made me moan in pleasure. The man knew what he was doing.
“Gosh, that feels so good Derrick. Ooh, ah…mmm.”
“Okay, you need to stop that,” Derrick said, laughing.
“What?”
“You’re turning me on with all that moaning.”
“This feels so good. I can go to sleep sitting right here,” I said faintly.
“I wouldn’t mind you going to sleep in my arms,” Derrick told me, then he kissed my back and made me shiver. Then he went back to massaging me. I must’ve passed out after that.
WHEN I WOKE up, it was dark. The time was about eight-thirty. I hadn’t intended on sleeping that long, but I was so tired from getting up so early, I guess. Plus, with the waves rocking the boat had me feeling like a baby in a cradle. I sat up in the bed, wiped my eyes and looked around. Derrick was nowhere in sight.
I took my hairbrush from my purse and brushed my hair back in order. Then I went through the kitchen and up the stairs to the cockpit to find Derrick. He was sitting at the same table where we played cards earlier in the day, inviting me to a candlelight dinner.
“Hey beautiful. I thought it was about time for you to wake up.” Derrick stood up and walked over to me, greeting me with a warm, meaningful hug.
“Let’s eat.”
“Okay,” I said, still feeling groggy, though I was very impressed by his efforts to please me with a candlelight dinner, as if taking me out on his personal boat wasn’t enough.
We sat down to a table full of small, white candles. Our dinner was a grilled chicken salad and a bottle of champagne.
I sampled the salad right away. The chicken pieces were properly seasoned and combined with fresh lettuce, tomatoes, black olives and cucumbers this was perhaps one of the best salads I’ve ever hand in my life. “This is good, Derrick. Thank you.”
Derrick didn’t respond to me. He quietly watched me eat, leaving his salad untouched.
“Tiffany…”
“Yes?”
“I…ah…I’m…” Derrick wanted to say something to me but he couldn’t quite get it out. “Never mind.”
“No, go ahead. What were you gonna say?”
“Nothing. Let’s just eat.”
We shared pleasant conversation over dinner. This dinner was the most romantic dinner I’d ever shared with a man, even more romantic than our first date.
When we finished eating, Derrick turned on some music and asked me to dance. My right hand was interlocked with his left. My left arm was wrapped around his body so that my hand rested on his back. It felt like some unexplained force was vibrating around us as we danced to some slow jams – Raheem DeVaughn, Customer; Musiq, TeachMe, and a few others. The atmosphere was perfect for us as we got to know each other in ways we failed to reach when we were dating, which was mostly my fault.
When we were a couple, I played Derrick to the left a lot of times. I cancelled dates and went weeks without seeing or calling him. It’s a wonder he was still able to put up with me after what I did to him. But I guess he really loved me if he was willing to accept me back into his life.
“Tiffany.”
“Yes?” I said, my head still resting on his shoulder while we rocked from side to side.
“I’m still in love with you,” he whispered.
I smiled. I was feeling the same way about him. Those feelings were hidden before because of my infatuation with Reggie. I was so goo goo ga ga over Reggie, I couldn’t see Derrick for what he was worth.
He went on to say, “And I know you love Reggie and I know I will never mean to you what he means to you but…” Derrick broke our bond and sat in a chair at the dinette. I joined him, then he went on to say, “When you left me in the restaurant that night, you hurt me. I loved you and you hurt me.”
I could see the hurt in his eyes when he spoke, the anger in the frowns of his forehead. He went on to say, “I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life. And the sad part was, I knew that I was playing with fire when we were dating, because I knew you and Reggie were close and I could see how much you loved him, only I didn’t care because I’d fallen in love with you from the moment we met.”
Derrick rubbed his eyes, buried his face in his hands and spoke again, “You hurt me that night, and I never want to feel that way again.”
I felt my body clam up as I watched Derrick’s eyes water. I had no idea what to do to comfort him. I’d never seen Derrick like this. “Derrick, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry, Tiffany,” he said, raising his tone. “Tell me you want what I want.”
“What do you wa—”
“I want to be with you! I want to love you, and I want you to tell me you want the same thing.”
My lips were sealed tighter than three-ounce bottles going through airport security. My nerves were getting the best of me, and Derrick’s emotions were getting the best of him.
“Do you love me?” he asked me.
“Yes.”
“Then why haven’t you ever said those words to me?”
“Because I needed to be sure,” I said, my eyes teari
ng, voice shaky.
“And you’re sure now?” Derrick asked with raised eyebrows, “Because I need you to be sure. If you’re going to love me, love me, but don’t play games with me and don’t hurt me,” he said firmly.
I walked away like a coward when I saw his eyes tearing up more. That’s how I knew I really hurt him. His emotions confirmed everything he said, made me realize how good of a man he was to me and how I dismissed him and our relationship as nothing. My face was soaked as I stumbled to the cabin, ashamed at myself for what I did to him. He’d called out for me to come back, to talk thing things out, but I kept on.
He caught up to me in the cabin, grabbed my arm and said, “Tiffany, I’m not angry, baby. I love you. I’m upset because you hurt me, but I’m happy you’re here with me and giving us another chance, or at least that’s what I think is happening. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I said, sniffling. “Can we start over?”
“No,” Derrick answered quickly. “We can start where we left off and you can start by being open and honest with me. Do you love me, Tiffany?”
“Yes.”
“Then say it.”
I smiled, more tears dropping from my eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you so much,” he told me like an obsessed person, kissing me all around my neck wild yet passionately. Then he scooped me into his arms and we rested comfortably with each other, like Angela Bassett and Wesley Snipes in Waiting To Exhale. We were at peace with one another. We were free to love each other. The time was right for our relationship to resume.
Chapter 23
We returned to land late Sunday evening. It was hard to say goodbye to Derrick when he dropped me off at my apartment. We must have kissed for ten minutes before I got out of the car.
As I stood at my bed unpacking my suitcase, the doorbell rang. I rushed to the door to see who it was. Reggie was standing there. I do not need this right now, I groaned to myself right before I opened the door.
“Hey, Reggie.”
“Hey, can I come in?” he asked me but then walked on in with his hands in his pocket, probably trying to think of something to explain himself and finally answer my question. I went back into my bedroom and finished unpacking my suitcase. He followed me.
“You going somewhere?” he asked, standing in the doorway.
“No. I just got back.”
“Where from?”
“From sailing?”
“Sailing? With who?” he inquired.
“Derrick.”
“Derrick?” he said, frowning.
“Yeah. Derrick.”
“So you back with him now?”
“Yes. We are together again.”
“So you doing this to get back at me?”
“No. My relationship with Derrick has nothing to do with you. I love Derrick because he treats me like a lady and he has all the qualities I want in a man. And you know what Reggie, I don’t have to beg for his attention. I don’t have to wait for him to realize he loves me because I know that he does already!”
“When have you ever had to beg for my attention?” Reggie asked, walking closer to me. “And you know I love you. Don’t try to pull that one on me. Why you doing this, Tiffany?”
“I told you why,” I said, throwing my dirty clothes in the hamper.
Reggie was heated. He walked out of my room and I could hear the front door slam as he left. It didn’t even faze me and I kept on unpacking. I wasn’t about to let his temper tantrum affect me. He had plenty of women to choose from. There was no need for him to be sweatin’ me so hard.
Derrick called me right before I went to bed to wish me a good night. He said he missed me and he didn’t want to go back to work. He only wanted to be with me. I felt the exact same way about him.
I WAS SITTING behind my desk the next morning, my legs crossed, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate and checking the latest news on Yahoo! – my daily morning office ritual. Bentley quietly came into my office, shut the door behind him.
“Good morning, Tiffany.”
“Morning, David.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m great. Life is wonderful.” As hard as I tried, I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face. Derrick had me feeling good about our relationship. He called me first thing this morning to tell me he loved me and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.
“I guess it is judging by that smile on your face.”
“Yep.”
Bentley took a seat at a chair in front of my desk, crossed his legs and I chuckled a bit thinking how professionally-dressed business men seemed to cross their legs whenever they sit.
“So I heard through the grapevine you were dating Derrick Brooks.”
“Wow. Word sure does get out fast, huh?”
“So it’s true?”
I took my eyes off of the computer and looked at him. “David, since when do you take a personal interest in my love life?”
He smiled, then said, “I was asking because I know him.”
“You do?” I asked with raised brows, fully attentive now.
“Yeah…went to the same college.”
“And how can you be sure that my Derrick Brooks is the same one you went to college with?”
“Ah…let’s see…light skin, black kinda curly hair, a lil’ buff, taller than me – the girls used to say he resembled Rick Fox…”
I smiled. He was definitely describing my baby all right. “Yeah, that’s him. I’m gonna ask him if he knows you,” I told him.
“Nah, I mean he probably don’t know me but I know him. I used to date his wife – well, I used to date her before she married him…you know what I mean.”
My mind immediately went blank. Wife. What wife? Derrick never mentioned anything about a wife. I felt like I was getting smaller and smaller, being sucked into a vortex of permanent chaos and confusion. I was stunned beyond belief but I couldn’t let Bentley see me sweat.
He continued, “She died about four years ago though. I actually went to the funeral…felt sorry for him, because the brother had just changed his life around. I mean, he was a bachelor like me,” Bentley said poppin’ his collar, “But I ain’t had nothing on Derrick. All the women wanted Derrick Brooks…had me jealous for a minute. Then he quit the game, got married, settled down and to have something like that happen must have been devastating.”
It felt like the entire building was spinning while I sat still. I was that house on Wizard of Oz.
“But I see he has found himself another good woman. Tell him I’m jealous,” Bentley said, standing. “I’m going to get back to work. You’re going to lunch with the group today, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“All right. I’ll see you later then.”
Deep breaths, Tiffany. Deep breaths. I wanted to pick up the phone and call Derrick immediately, ask him about this and get it over with. I resisted the temptation. First, I needed to think about the information. Then I needed to talk to Derrick face-to-face to find out why he neglected to tell me he was married and that his wife had passed.
While having lunch with the office crew, that was all I could think about – Derrick being married. And I didn’t know whether to feel angry at him for not telling me, or sympathy for his situation. He had left a few messages for me too…talkin’ bout he wanted to see me and how much fun he had on our weekend getaway. I didn’t call him back.
DERRICK SHOWED UP at my place in the evening. I opened the door, forced myself to smile and said, “Hi.”
“Hey,” he said, appearing to be in high spirits as usual. We embraced for a moment, then he walked in. “So, I tried calling you a few times today.”
“Yeah. I was busy.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Not quite…” I said.
“What is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“Ah…well, Derrick…”
“What is it, Tiffany?”
“Just wondering why yo
u didn’t tell me you were once married?”
He looked surprised. He probably never intended on telling me. If it wasn’t for Bentley and his big mouth, I probably would’ve never known.
“I wanted to tell you but—”
“But you didn’t. Derrick, I share my life with you. You know me. You even know the details surrounding my screwed-up relationship with Reggie. But the one thing I should’ve heard from you…”
“I wanted to tell you, Tiffany. I just don’t like to talk about her.”
“But you’re a part of my life now, Derrick. I mean, you claim to love me.”
“No, I don’t claim nothing. I do love you. You know that,” he asserted.
“Okay, well if you do then you should trust me enough to confide in me.” I took a moment to collect my thoughts. “Derrick, I know this may be a touchy subject for you, but if we’re going to be together, you need to share these things with me. I don’t want to learn information about you from other people. I want to hear it from you.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right and I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you over the weekend but I didn’t know how.”
Derrick sat down on the couch and I sat down next to him. He said, “I was married for four years and I loved her with…with my heart and soul. Three years into our marriage, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and for the last year of her life, I watched her suffer through chemotherapy until finally, her body couldn’t handle it anymore. She died the same year, and that was four years ago.” Derrick wasn’t emotional as he spoke. Maybe he had already passed the grieving stage. It had been four years since she died.
He went on to say, “And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to fall in love with me out of sympathy. I wanted you to like me for me, not because of my situation.”
I absorbed everything he told me. It all made sense and I knew Derrick was telling the truth. “You still mad at me,” he asked.
