Should’ve Been
(A Short Story)
Alexandria House
Pink Cashmere Publishing, LLC
Arkansas, USA
Copyright © 2019 by Alexandria House
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing 2019
Pink Cashmere Publishing, LLC
[email protected]
1
Claudette
“I’ll have a shot of Hennessy.”
My back was to the patron, but I knew who he was, and if for some reason I didn’t recognize the voice, my body definitely did. But even with that certainty, I still lifted my eyes to the mirror lining the wall behind the bar, quickly colliding with his gaze in the reflection.
Yep, it was him.
And he was still...him.
I dropped my gape and spun around. “Is that all?” I managed to ask.
He nodded, those charcoal eyes locked on my face as he tucked his thick bottom lip between his teeth.
My God, he was beautiful.
“Okay,” I said, but before I could move, he spoke again.
“I can’t believe you still work here.”
My eyes surveyed The Royale’s small bar. It was early in the evening, so there was barely anyone there other than a couple of haggard-looking regulars…and him. “Yeah, uh, still here. Let me get that drink for you.”
He blinked and smiled. “Thank you.”
Tearing my eyes away from that white smile surrounded by a canvas of smooth peanut butter-toned skin, I quickly poured his drink, told him the price, and when he handed me a hundred-dollar bill and told me to keep the change, I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”
Cocking his head to the right, he asked, “Why not?”
“Because...I can’t.”
“Your man won’t let you?”
Rolling my eyes, I left him sitting there, got his change, and returned to find the bar stool he’d occupied and his shot glass empty. I stood there for a good five minutes, confused, a smidge disappointed, and hell...aroused.
*****
The rest of the night sprinted by as Friday nights usually do. The only difference was his occupancy inside my mind. With every drink I mixed and poured, with every glass I washed, with every greeting I offered or smile I plastered on my face came a memory of us—me and him. Or just him. Yeah, mostly him. There weren’t many, but there were enough.
More than enough.
And since he looked and sounded the same as I recalled, I wondered if he felt the same.
I also wondered...shit, I had to stop this. It wasn’t healthy, and in addition to the good memories and feelings he evoked, there was some bad.
Really bad.
So after my shift had ended at The Royale, I went straight home, soaked my aching feet, ate a late dinner of leftover pizza, and climbed into bed.
2
Claudette
“You okay, Claudette?”
I snatched my head in the direction of Ariel’s voice. “Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?”
“You’ve just been standing there for like five minutes holding that bottle of Grey Goose and staring at that stool.”
“I have? I…sorry.” I turned to face the much shorter, red-headed woman, my co-bartender for that evening, and repeated, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, but please don’t zone out like that all night. It’s Saturday night, and on top of that, there’s a business thing that lets out in a few minutes. We need to be ready.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath and setting the bottle of liquor in its place on the shelf behind the bar. As Ariel had pointed out, this was the last day of some business conference being held in the convention center adjacent to the hotel, and if things went like they usually did with these events, we were about to be slammed. So I needed to shake off what I was feeling, the side effects of having seen him for the first time in two years. Shit, I thought I was over him, but apparently, I wasn’t with the way I kept looking for him, almost willing him to return to the bar, just so I could see him. I simply wanted to see him, that’s all. I was sure the mere sight of him would be enough to...to what? It damn sure wasn’t going to settle my nerves or make me want him less. It—
“Excuse me.”
My breath caught in my chest somewhere as I turned toward the voice, my eyes landing on his handsome face and then strolling down his tall, bulky frame covered in a navy suit. I watched him slide onto a stool, the same one he’d occupied the night before. At that moment, I decided that was his stool.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Ariel moving toward me and damn near tripped over my feet trying to get to him before she could. “Um, what can I get you, sir?” I breathed.
“Sir?” he asked, with a grin. His eyes shone with mischief. “I’m sir now?”
“You’re my customer. I try to show respect to all of my customers.”
“Just a customer? I used to be more than that to you, didn’t I?”
I licked my lips. “You…I…what would you like tonight?”
That grin of his spread into a proper smile. “I don’t think your man would appreciate my answer to that question.”
“I don’t have a man,” I slowly admitted. “Haven’t had one in a long time.”
“Well shit, in that case, can I have your number?”
Truth
I watched her lean forward a little, her small eyes glued to me. “Won’t your woman have a problem with that?” she asked.
“I’m single, Claudette. Very single.”
The corner of her top lip rose into a skeptical smirk. I wondered if her lips were still soft. “You’re single? Okay. Suuuure.”
“Is that really so hard to believe? I can’t be single?”
“You could be, but you’re not. There’s no way she let you go. No way.”
“So you think I’m lying? That hurts my feelings, beautiful. I’m wounded.” I clutched my chest.
She rolled her eyes.
“You just told me you don’t have a man. How would you feel if I didn’t believe you?”
“Where’ve you been?” she asked hesitantly.
“Why? You missed me?”
Another roll of her eyes.
“I’ve been here and there, doing business, making money, missing the hell outta you…”
Her eyes darted around the small hotel bar. “Look, this place is starting to fill up. I need to be working. Did you want a drink?”
“Yeah, baby. You know what I like.”
She pursed her lips and left me, returning in seconds with my Hennessy and insisting it was on the house despite me trying to make her take my money. Then I watched her work, pouring and mixing drink after drink, and I found my eyes on her ass in those tight black pants more than once. Her thick natural hair was pulled back into a puffy black ponytail, the way she’d always worn it. And that skin of hers? The color of cinnamon roasted almonds and flawless right down to the little black mole next to her top lip. Claudette was about five-six to my six feet, with a body that I’d been dreaming about for a long time. Her nigga had nicknamed her Slim, because she wasn’t a big girl back then, but now? Now, Claudette had curves, dangerous curves. In my opinion, she’d definitely transitioned from Slim to Thick.
In one word, Claudett
e Wynn was fine.
In four words?
Finer than a motherfucker.
So she was single? Really?
I smiled, watched her, studied her for a couple of hours as the small hotel bar grew more and more crowded, and then I left.
*****
Two years earlier…
“T, this is my lady, Slim. Baby, this is my boy Truth Ebo.” He punctuated the introduction by squeezing her to him, and my first thought was that she was too damn pretty to be dealing with him. I watched her eyelashes flutter as she looked up at me and smiled.
“Hi,” she said softly, shyly.
Yeah, she was definitely too good for this nigga.
“Hey,” I replied, with my eyes glued to hers. When I felt an elbow in my side, I remembered that I had a damn wife who was standing right next to me, and said, “Oh! Craig, you remember Tiana, right?”
As my friend introduced his lady to mine, my eyes wouldn’t leave Slim, couldn’t leave her, and right that second, something in my soul told me this was the woman I should’ve waited for. Maybe if I’d slowed down just a little, I wouldn’t have found myself tied to a woman I didn’t love, at least not anymore. Shit, at that point, I didn’t even like Tiana. And contrary to what she wanted me and the world at large to believe, I knew my wife shared my feelings.
We didn’t have a marriage. We had a damn arrangement.
I exchanged a few more words with my old friend, promised to keep in touch with him, and then watched as he grasped Claudette’s elbow, leading her away from us.
“Well damn...why don’t you just go snatch her from him? I mean, why not strip her and fuck her right here in front of everybody, T?” my wife hissed softly.
Unfazed, I watched Craig and Claudette disappear into the sea of bodies and then gave Tiana my attention. “Don’t start that shit tonight, Tiana. You know you don’t give a damn.”
She leaned in close to me. “True. You could fuck that bitch from sunup to sundown and I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep. I definitely don’t give a shit what you do behind closed doors, but you better not embarrass me in front of our friends.”
“Your friends. I don’t like half the motherfuckers in this room, and the other half I don’t know. Why don’t you go do a silent bid on some useless shit and give me a break? I’m tired of pretending to like you.”
“The feeling is mutual. I can’t believe I ever thought your trash ass was a catch.”
“Then give me a got damn divorce like I asked,” I said through my teeth.
“And let you go get with some ghetto trash like Craig’s girl, Thin, and live happily ever after? Nope.”
“Her name is Slim.”
“Whatever.” She lifted on her toes to plant a lingering kiss on my lips that I fought not to wipe off. “I’ll be back. Mingle, sweetie.”
Through narrowed eyes, I watched her walk away before moving from my spot in the middle of the room, making my way to the bar. If I was going to make it through yet another night of faking this long-dead marriage, my ass was going to have to be as close to drunk as possible.
I was throwing back my second shot when I heard him say, “Damn, man...you ain’t playing, huh?”
Craig’s ass.
The thing with my friend was he really wasn’t my friend. Craig was a snarky asshole whom I’d never liked. Shit, truth be told, no one in our group of friends did. The nigga was arrogant, had grown up with money just like my wife, and had always looked down on us regular folks although he chose to hang with us and loved fucking regular chicks. I always believed that was because being around us made his ain’t shit ass feel like he was somebody. But he wasn’t. Craig was just a nigga who lived off the money his daddy worked hard for. The motherfucker was spoiled and entitled. He and my wife had a lot in common there.
I shrugged. “I ain’t supposed to drink at a bar?”
“I ain’t say that. I’m about to knock back a few real quick, too, and then I’ma get the fuck up outta here, see if I can make Slim wake the neighbors up again.” He winked at me and then took a shot glass from the bartender, throwing back what had to be vodka. He shook his head and said, “Woo! That damn Spirytus ain’t no joke! I’ma fuck my girl’s world up tonight!”
“Where you find her, anyway? She don’t look like your type.” Translation: she didn’t look like a ho’.
He slammed another shot back and shuddered. “Here at The Royale. In the main bar. She’s a bartender.”
My eyebrows tented. It was no surprise that he’d met her in a bar since he was a damn alcoholic, and a lightweight one at that, but… “You fucking around with one of your employees?”
“Not my employee, or at least not yet. My daddy still on that ‘I gotta prove I’m ready for the responsibility of running one of our properties’ bullshit, but anyway, it irks the shit outta him that I’m fucking one of his employees, plus she’s fine, and the pussy? Well, all of that makes her my type. Been with her for over a year. Who knows, I might even marry her. Sike!” Then this idiot started laughing.
I didn’t so much as crack a smile. “Still tryna make the old man’s life miserable, huh?”
“Yep,” he said, taking another shot and snatching his head around toward something or someone else.
Her.
She’d appeared out of nowhere, and this time, her scent traveled over to me. Cherries.
“You back? Done with the bathroom? Want something to drink?” Craig slurred.
“No, thank you,” she answered.
Craig turned to me with a smirk. “Get this. She’s a bartender, but she doesn’t drink. Ain’t that some shit?”
“Yeah, you driving? Might need to catch an Uber or something. Looks like that Spirytus done hit you, man. Need me to call a ride for you?” I offered.
He slid off the bar stool. “Nah, I’m good. You know I…” He stumbled a little, grabbing onto Slim, who struggled to hold his big ass up. “Shit,” Craig mumbled.
I pulled him off her, and as he leaned into me, looking up at me with drowsy eyes, I said, “Look, I’ll drive you—”
“We have a room upstairs?” she asked rather than informed me.
“Oh,” I replied, and then I stood there and stared at her like I was a damn fool.
“Um, can you help me get him to the elevators? I’m sure I can handle it from there,” she said.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll help you get him to the room. He’s too big to be leaning on you anyway.”
I had to coach Craig into putting one foot in front of the other so I wouldn’t have to drag his big ass behind me. We were the same height, and although I wasn’t a lightweight myself, he was wider than me, and where I was mostly muscle, his ass was flabby, a result of never having to lift a hand for shit in his life.
Yeah, I really, really didn’t like this fool, and truth be told, he didn’t like me either and I knew it.
Once in the elevator, all was quiet. Slim kept her eyes glued to the number panel until the car stopped at the top floor. The penthouse. I’d forgotten Craig actually lived in the hotel. Perks of being the heir to the Holman empire.
The doors opened, and I dragged him into the lavish space, putting him on the sofa at her direction.
“Um, thank you for helping me with him,” she said softly.
I nodded and gave her a grin. “No problem, Slim.”
“Claudette.”
“What?”
“My name…it’s Claudette.”
“Oh, all right. No problem, Claudette. You need me to help with anything else?” I asked, my eyes locked with hers.
Returning my smile, she shook her head. “No, I’ve got it from here. He just needs to sleep this off. While he’s doing that?” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll figure out something to do.”
My damn wife was downstairs in the same building and Craig was passed out barely a foot from me, so I should’ve been rushing to leave, but instead, I stood there and stared at her, wanted to stay and find out everything there was to know about a woman her
age named Claudette. And she didn’t seem to be in a hurry for me to leave either as she kept her eyes on me. A moan from Craig made us both drop our eyes to him, and I took it as my cue to leave before I got myself into some real trouble.
“Well, I’d better get back downstairs,” I said.
“Yes. Have a good rest of the evening,” she offered.
“Thanks.” And then I left, returning to the charity event, but my mind stayed in that penthouse with Claudette.
3
Claudette
Now…
One thing I loved about my city was that barely anything shut down on Sundays. Bars, liquor stores, the boat, AKA the casino, they all ran on Sundays just like they did every other day. Sundays were the slowest day for the bar, but the steady trickle of patrons made for decent tips and allowed me to earn my pay without wearing myself out. Sundays were usually chill, laid back, mellow workdays for me. But not this Sunday, because he was back.
He was back.
Sitting there in a dark brown suit looking all lickable and shit.
Damn.
I’d hoped I’d get a break from the sight of him, just a tiny break, but no such luck, and I was the only person working the bar.
Heaving a sigh, I made my way to him, plastered on a smile, and said, “Good evening. Hennessy?”
“Yes, and don’t forget your number.”
I left to make his drink without responding, returned with it and told him it was on the house again. When I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.
“Why you rushing away? Ain’t nobody else here.”
My eyes rounded the bar to find that he was correct. We were alone, and that fact made my stomach flip. I spun back around to face him, bit my bottom lip, and said, “Truth—”
“You know what this reminds me of?”
I shook my head rather than verbalize my lie as I wiped the clean bar surface down, anything to keep from looking at him. Of course I remembered. I remembered every encounter I’d had with him.
Should've Been Page 1
