“Yeah, well, I’m handling it.”
“I was just concerned. We are friends now. I think it’s safe to assume that, right?”
Feeling humiliated and remorse for my bite, I nodded. “Yes, we’re friends.”
I hated that he saw my weakness. I hated that was his first assumption. Even if it was an innocent question or asked out of concern, it stung.
More so, I hated that he would even think I could be intimate with anyone else.
“See you later?” he asked, pushing the hair off my forehead.
I met his gaze and saw nothing but warmth. “I’m sorry I’m on edge. Maybe I do feel a little weird about us sleeping together. It’s been a long time for me. And when I’ve done the casual hookup thing, I usually don’t see the person after.”
“No friends with benefits?” He grinned.
I grinned back. “You’re my first.”
He leaned in on a whisper. “You’re mine too. I was married forever, remember?”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said leaning in. “And I promise to make sure you benefit.”
Goosebumps trailed over my skin and I shrugged. “I don’t think I would hate it.”
He chuckled. “Are you free tonight? I’ll cook.”
I nodded, and he leaned in and pressed a promising kiss to my lips. “I look forward to it.”
I drove away cursing my stupidity.
Way to keep him on his side of the fence, Koti.
Chapter Twenty-One
Koti
“YOU WHAT!?”
Glaring at her, I put my purse in my desk drawer. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. Are those tears?” I laughed. “You are such an idiot.”
“I’m just so happy. You finally got laid.” She pulled me into her, pressing her huge boobs against my neck.
“Would you stop! I can’t believe you’re getting emotional because I had sex.”
“Come on, I’m taking you to breakfast.”
“No way, we have a full load today.”
“And I’ll take care of it. You’re getting the day off.”
“Jasmine, it’s Saturday. We have a shitload of houses to flip.”
“I’ve got them. Believe it or not, I did this all by myself before you came into the picture. I’m still the boss. Now get your purse and come on.”
“God, you act like I graduated college or something monumental. This is not a special occasion.”
“Did you orgasm?”
My face flushed.
“Oh, God. The man gave you multiples, didn’t he?”
Grinning, I nodded.
“Oh, my God!”
“Would you chill out. The therapist down the hall is going to file another complaint.”
“If you ask me, she could use some multiples. She has resting bitch face. Not only that, she made her own reserved sign for her car. Like she actually went to Lowe’s and bought the shit and made a sign. That’s pathetic. Come on, we’re going to celebrate.”
“You’re nuts.”
“And you’re glowing.”
“You’ve seen me the last four days of work and haven’t said a word about my glow.” We piled into her convertible and buckled up.
“Better late than never. I’m hungry anyway, okay. Just stop being a killjoy and start from the beginning.”
Jasmine grinned from ear to ear as I got most of the details out of the way before we pulled up to Pungy’s Bistro. Their banana waffles with brown sugar syrup were my favorite and she knew it.
“I love you,” I sighed with a mouthful of waffle.
“So tonight, he’s cooking?”
“Yep.” Swallowing half a glass of orange juice, I hesitated while she studied me.
“You really are glowing. Not that you’ll believe me.”
“Can I ask you something without you getting offended?”
“Sure,” she said with a frown. “You can ask me anything.”
“When you are done with a man or dating one, how do you keep your feelings out of it? I mean you do date some of these guys.”
She sat back and grabbed her coffee cup. “You know I’m in love with someone else.”
“That’s the trick?”
“It is for me. I know that doesn’t help you.”
“I just… There’s so much about him that I like. Aside from his beastly entrance, the man is truly worth a damn. I just don’t know if I can separate the two.”
“You might not be able to with him.”
“I don’t want to analyze. I’m acting like I’ve never done this before, but with him, it feels like I haven’t. Does that make any sense?”
“Perfect.”
“It feels so different with him.”
“You may need to face the fact that you might already be in love with him.”
“No, I’m not, not yet, but if I spend more time with him, I will be. I know it. So, I guess the question is, do I go in and break my own heart or ax it now? He can’t stay. He has a daughter back in the States.”
“Then you know there’s a time limit and you work with what you have.”
“Even with the risk?”
“Is he worth it?”
“Yeah, yeah, he is.”
“I can’t tell you what to do, but I will tell you even though I hate Steven, I don’t regret falling in love with him. I never felt that way before or after. He’s probably ruined me, but I would do it all over again.”
“Why are we so damned stupid?”
She shrugged. “Built that way? But I look at it this way. Some people go their whole lives without that type of connection. Wouldn’t you rather have it? And with a man like him?”
“Hell yes.”
“Multiples.”
“Sign me up.”
“You can do this, Koti. Try to do what you said you were going to and use him right back.”
* * *
“You never told me the good stuff,” Jasmine scorned as I gathered my clipboard to turn one house I refused to compromise on. I’d been waiting to meet the renter for months.
“The good stuff?”
“Yeah, how did you orgasm?”
“First, it was his tongue and then from inside. I didn’t even know that was possible.”
“You poor thing, you got blasted.”
“What?”
“Blasted. You can come both ways. He rubs your G inside with his penis or stimulates the clit outside. You can have both at the same time too.”
Fire spread through my lower half as I imagined the possibilities.
“And I see today we’re getting educational,” Toby chimed in from the door of our office before he chuckled and looked over at me. “And I guess congratulations are in order?”
“God,” I buried my head in my hands and muffled a “Hi, Toby.”
“Happy Saturday, ladies,” he said carrying his water bottle in and making the switch.
“See you later, Jasmine,” I said in an attempt to make a quick exit. “Call me if you need anything.”
She waved me off as she drank Toby in with a crocodile smile. God bless the poor man, it was only a matter of time.
* * *
Warm wind whipped through my hair as I blazed a trail through the roads I’d come to know. After a year in St. Thomas, I really had no choice but to take on the ‘Hakuna Matata’ attitude. Len sang “Steal My Sunshine” as I pulled up to the rental and parked my Jeep. I opened three sets of glass double doors from the living room to the patio and let the ocean air filter in while I laid out a bottle of wine and one of Banion’s bouquets on the countertop. Half an hour later, I greeted two pale-faced couples. As soon as they pulled up, the driver—a tall, thin, wiry man with thick brown hair—jumped out and held out the keys over the hood to the laughing passenger who I assumed was his wife.
“Oh, hell no, I’m not driving here,” she said with a guilty smile.
“Did you know it was left side versus right here!?” He exclaimed as she winked at me in
greeting, mid-argument with her husband. She knew, all right, she knew because I told her. The U.S. Virgin Islands were formerly owned by the British. It’s kind of like renting a car in England, but… not. Same driver’s side but you drive on the opposite side of the road. With steep mountain cliffs and neck breaking turns—not to mention impatient natives—for those unprepared, it’s pretty much the scariest experience ever from the airport to their destination.
“I can arrange for a driver for the rest of your trip,” I piped in as all four of them looked my way. “Hi, I’m Koti.”
A woman close to my age came toward me and gripped me in a bear hug. “Oh, this place, Koti! It’s even more amazing than the pictures.”
“Hi, Kelli. Wait until you see the inside.” I whispered, hugging her back. I greeted the two men pulling bags from the trunk of the rental.
“Guys, I know you’re anxious to get settled, but if you can let the bags wait a minute so I could show you around, I would appreciate it.” The men reluctantly let the bags go and followed me down the tinted cement shell concrete stairs that sat surrounded by lush tropical plants. When I opened the door, they all gasped in unison. At the time I took the reservation and spoke to Kelli, I wanted to make sure she got the best rental we had. She had just survived her second round of chemo and deserved the oasis she was about to spend a week in. The tears that shimmered in her eyes as she assessed her piece of the island did it all for me. She lifted a grateful gaze to mine before she raced out onto the marble porch at the back of the house and tackled her husband, who had already covered half of the top floor. His smile matched hers and in a simple maneuver he gripped her from his back and pulled her tightly to him. Excited whispers were exchanged between them as he held her like his lifeline and his eyes conveyed everything he felt for her. My chest swelled with admiration while another part of me rejoiced in their excitement.
It was my favorite type of rush, sharing my peaceful island with those who deserved some peace of their own.
But I’d never had life be so ugly as to dish out cancer.
Kelli’s eyes found me again and I pushed a tear away with my finger in an attempt to mask it as she mouthed “thank you.”
The other couple, who Kelli told me was her best friend and husband, stood on a separate porch and rapidly spoke while they pointed to the lone mountain nestled across their lawn, made of deep blue water.
“That’s Hans Lolich,” I pointed out, “And it’s for sale. Thirty-five million and it’s yours.”
The couples roamed the house taking in their rented oasis and kept their eyes glued past the cliffside back patio that stretched the length of the large two-story villa. It took me several minutes to get their attention, but I had to admit I loved watching them run around like children who just arrived at their first carnival.
“Okay, guys listen up.” For the next few minutes, I showed them around the house and explained as much as I could get through to them, when their thoughts were on their first drink and a dive in their private pool.
Once I had them settled, and we’d said our goodbyes, I made my way out the front door and left the keys on the mahogany table next to it.
“Hey!” I turned to see Kelli close the front door behind her, her hands clasped on the knob. “I know you rented this house to me for under the normal weekly rate.” I saw her audibly swallow and had to fight emotion to keep my tears from coming. She needed this trip. I’d heard it in her voice when she made the reservation, the defeat, the need to be excited about something, anything. It was rare that I spoke to a client for more than a few minutes, but Kelli and I spoke for the better part of an hour when she called. After my talk with her, I spent a day or two trying to imagine what it was like having poison shoved into my veins while I fought for my life and counted on others to try to save it.
Living in St Thomas, away from the life I knew and being disconnected, actually helped me become more in tune with those around me. I haven’t always been a person’s person. In fact, the New Yorker in me had grown immune to brushing shoulders with millions of other people, indifferent to the presence of other wandering souls. I was completely apathetic and I was positive the old Koti Vaughn might have shied away from the hug Kelli gave me earlier. My hope was I had evolved from that narcissistic New Yorker.
Even if my involvement with her elation was small, the smile on her face was my reward.
Saluting me, Kelli squinted from the bright sun as she spoke. “Thank you, Koti.”
“You deserve to be happy.”
She laughed and gripped her arms. “You know, I was just thinking that the other day. I looked in the mirror at the woman who used to run a 5k in twenty minutes and asked myself—what if there comes a time when I only have twenty minutes left. The answer was so simple.”
“And what was it?”
“Be simple and do whatever the hell it is you have to do to make yourself happy.”
“I think you’re right.” Except I knew she was, I’d been living as a simpleton for months.
She gave me a knowing grin. “And I’m not the only one who deserves it. New York lost a gem. Thank you again.” I may have overshared a little when she called. It was cheaper than therapy and more rewarding when we shared the common bond that reality, sometimes sucked.
But sometimes reality shifted the clouds and let in a light so bright, it was impossible to ignore.
My island was that light for me, and I had a feeling it could be hers too.
She winked at me before she slipped into the light blue, double-wide doors.
On the drive home, I meditated on her words. I’d been so nervous about the prospect of having feelings for Ian, I’d nearly lost sight of the fact that our newly rekindled friendship was a gift. The truth was, being with Ian made me happy. And I would enjoy it for as long as we had.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Koti
I climbed my porch steps and paused when I heard the first few keys of the piano sound. The baby grand that sat in the living room hadn’t been touched in years, well, not by the fingers of an experienced pianist. My dad used to play when I was a little girl, often entertaining our friends in the penthouse. Opting to see if any more music would come, I stood waiting at the front door. My jaw dropped when a melody began to fill the air. I couldn’t put my finger on the song, but it sounded familiar. After a few bars, I managed to slip into the house unnoticed. Mesmerized by the sight of him, I picked Disco up before she could make a sound. He missed a key or two, but quickly recovered, his timing was that of a practiced musician. It took every bit of strength I had to remain idle as he blew me away with his talent. While watching him, my new ‘live for the moment’ confidence was being obliterated away note by note.
Don’t overthink this, Koti!
No matter how hard I tried to forget Ian Kemp once he left me, I knew no matter how much time passed, or how our relationship ended, I would never forget how I felt watching him play that piano.
Thunder sounded in the distance and rain began to hit the roof of the house and trail down the windowpane next to me while the rest of the afternoon sun faded under the cover of the clouds. With the room dimmed, I smiled at the sight of lit candles. Ian had created his own bubble.
Inwardly sighing, I sat back on the arm of my sofa and admired my view. He grimaced, once or twice and then sank into the music, his posture relaxing slightly while his chest flexed under the white T-shirt that covered him. When the last note was played, he sat back, rubbing his hands on his thighs before he looked up and spotted me. I was sure I looked insane gawking at him, but he just grinned.
“Hi. I know that was horrible.”
I shook my head. “Hi, back. That was beautiful. I know that song.”
“I played it in my last recital, it’s “Clair de Lune” by Debussy.”
“Accomplished pianist too, huh? Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Lots of things,” he said, standing before he glanced at the large wall clock past my shoulder.
“You’re home early.”
“Slow day. The boss told me to take the rest of it off. How long did you play?”
“Just through grade school.”
“That was grade school level?”
“I was a bit advanced.”
I harrumphed. “You think?”
He ignored my compliment as he stalked toward me, his eyes darkening.
“So lucky me,” he said moving to stand in front of me before he took a squirming Disco from my arms to grant her freedom. “You’re home early and it’s raining,” he murmured leaning in, “what shall we do?”
I swallowed. “I was thinking we could start our book club?”
“Sure,” he said with a smirk, pulling my purse off my shoulder and tossing it on the couch behind me. “After.”
“After?”
“After,” he whispered, crushing me to his chest before capturing my mouth.
* * *
Hours later, I lingered next to a hot running shower, my whole body vibrating as I stood in a daze, my hair a sex afro. My abdomen was screaming, and I winced at the pinch I still felt from his size. The man fucked like Tarzan.
“Hey,” he said in a raspy voice behind me. I turned to see him darken my doorway and took a step back. “I, uh… I can’t do it again, sorry.” I jumped into the shower and ducked under the stream as the door open and he joined me. He chuckled as he turned me to face him. “What’s with the brush-off?”
The banging began below, and I knew I was in a world of shit. I winced as I ducked for the shampoo.
“You’re hurt?”
“I’m sore.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, tilting my chin. “I’m a little rough.”
“A little,” I said with wide eyes.
“Shit, I really hurt you?”
“No, I mean I’m hurting, but it doesn’t really have to do with the sex. I mean it does but…”
“Koti, spit it out,” he said impatiently. “I’m feeling like an asshole here.”
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