He glowered at her. “Of course you’re different. I care about you.”
“Caring about each other does not mean getting romantically involved is a good idea.”
“Well, it certainly doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea,” he said sarcastically.
Dana’s eyes narrowed. “This is real life. There are consequences for our actions. What if this—whatever we’re doing—doesn’t work out?”
“What makes you so sure we won’t work?”
“Honestly? Let’s be real, we’re not compatible.”
“We’re not compatible. I see.” Hands on his hips, he paced the floor and bounced his head up and down as if she’d said something profound.
“Why are you repeating what I said in that tone of voice?”
He scowled at her. “Say what you really think instead of using code words.”
“Tell me what you think I’m thinking. Apparently, you have something going on in that head of yours because I don’t like your tone.”
“I’m not one of your goddamn students, so don’t talk to me like him a friggin’ child, okay?”
“I don’t talk to my students like they’re kids because they’re adults, and they act like adults,” Dana shot back.
Omar bit his bottom lip, a sure sign he was furious. “Fine, I’ll tell you what you’re thinking. I’m not good enough for you.”
“What! You’re wrong.” She couldn’t believe he said something so ridiculous.
“Am I? I don’t read a lot or get the references to historical facts or authors you’re always talking about like they’re common knowledge. I’m definitely not a professor or scientist or something equally boring.”
“First of all,” Dana said, pointing a finger at him, “I have never talked down to you, and those men are not boring. I take your comment personally because I’m a professor. Second of all, you and me not being compatible has nothing to do with the profession of the men I’ve dated. If we’re being honest, I could say something similar about you. You’re always running around with models and actresses and wannabe models and actresses. The women I’ve seen you mess around with over the years are all the same. Don’t you get tired?”
“This may come as a surprise to you, but those are the only women who approach me. So like a normal human being, I go where I’m wanted.”
His response surprised her. Maybe those were the only woman bold enough to approach him, but if she did a survey of Atlanta women to find out which ones were interested, they’d come from all walks of life and the full range of socio-economic backgrounds.
“So the woman who texted you this morning, are you going there?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“We’ve been sleeping together for a month, Omar. Why is this chick texting you her goddamn vagina?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if her very reasonable question drained and irritated him at the same time.
“Let me repeat, I did not ask for her to text me.”
“Who the hell is she?”
“I took her to the restaurant opening and haven’t seen her since then.”
“She clearly wants to keep seeing you.” Making her voice high-pitched and syrupy, Dana added, “You’re so big and strong. I would love for you to tackle me.”
They stared at each other.
Finally, Omar said, “You need to grow the fuck up, Dana.” He walked out of the kitchen.
She followed. “And you need to handle your women, unless there’s something you need to tell me.”
A pulse in his temple throbbed. “The only thing I have to say is you need to check yourself. Don’t come at me talking about other women like you haven’t been wildin’ your damn self, and if anybody should be going through phones, it’s me. I’m the one who had the cheating fiancée. So don’t try to flip this on me like I’m the bad guy, when the only reason you’re behaving like this is because you’re looking for an excuse to run.”
Neither of them spoke, and his words hung in the air, a scalding indictment in the face of all her insecurities about the prudence of their new relationship status. Finally, Dana huffed out an angry breath and marched into the bedroom. She grabbed her purse and overnight bag, and when she came back out, Omar stood in her path, arms crossed over his chest.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Leaving, because I don’t appreciate you flipping this conversation around and turning a very valid concern into an attack against me.”
“Leaving is your resolution?”
“Yes.”
“Way to prove me wrong.”
She dropped her gaze. “Get out of my way.”
He couldn’t blame her for her thoughts. Seeing the way he went through women, being with him meant playing Russian roulette with her heart, hoping she didn’t wind up with a hole the size of a fist. Life was so much easier when they were only friends and the intimacies they shared didn’t exacerbate her already complicated feelings about him.
Omar didn’t move, standing in the way so long she wondered if he ever would. When he finally stepped aside, Dana rushed to the door and fled his condo—head bent uncharacteristically low.
20
The sun was going down as Omar stepped onto the balcony where his father relaxed and smoked a cigar because Dorothy didn’t let him smoke in the house.
“Hey, Pop.”
“Hey, son.” Senior let a puff of smoke drift past his lips.
Omar sat across from his father, the argument with Dana a constant in his mind.
We’re not compatible.
The words haunted him. He had taken rough falls on the football field, but nothing hit as hard as those words. Gut-punching him would have been kinder.
After Dana left his place yesterday, he texted Tracy and gently but firmly told her she could no longer send nudes or suggestive photos. He should probably send a text blast to all the women in his phone because Tracy was not the first time—nor did he expect her to be the last time—he received explicit texts.
Father and son sat in companionable silence for a while before Omar spoke.
“Do you have any regrets?” he asked.
“Regrets about what?” Senior asked.
“Regrets about actions you should have taken a long time ago but never had the courage to take.”
His father chuckled. “Everybody has regrets like those. You thinking about something in particular? A relationship maybe?”
“Something like that.”
“You pining for Athena?” his father asked gently.
Omar frowned. “Hell, no.”
For some reason people thought he still harbored feelings for his ex. Maybe because they co-parented a child, they expected old feelings to remain. But his love for Athena died along with the end of their relationship, and if he were being truly honest, meeting Dana and developing feelings for her didn’t help.
“I don’t regret walking away from her, and I don’t think of her as more than the mother of my son,” Omar continued.
“Then what are you talking about?”
“I’m thinking about a specific person. Dana.”
Being with her was surreal. Waking up together and sharing gentle, affectionate kisses with the scent of her perfume all over him was the highlight of his mornings.
“Oh,” Senior said, the word loaded with commentary.
“I haven’t said anything because she and I are keeping our relationship low-key for now, but we’re seeing each other.”
“I don’t often hear you use the word relationship. Must be serious.”
“It is—for me, anyway. For years, my thoughts about her have been more than friendly, and I finally acted on those thoughts.”
“You slept with her?” His father quirked an eyebrow. Of course he would be blunt.
“Yes.”
“You right, that’s definitely more than friendly,” Senior said with a hearty chuckle. “I’ve never met Dana, but your mother met her a couple of times when she stopped
by the foundation and speaks very highly of her. We should have her over to the house one day.”
“Maybe in a few days, after she calms down.”
Omar explained about her reading the dirty texts and how they caused her to pull back. He reached out to her earlier today, but she never responded to his message.
“Real talk, she doesn’t trust me, and it pisses me off. She knows me—has known me for years, but she can’t get the idea of me as Mr. Casanova out of her head. I guess she sees me as always on the prowl, seducing hundreds of women a week or something, which is completely ridiculous.”
Mr. Casanova. He never hated the name more than he did right now.
“Sounds like she has her heart sewn up in an airtight bag to protect it.”
“You’re right.” Omar fell silent. “I’m sure I’ve been falling in love with her—or have been in love with her—for years, and I regret never making a move before. If I could do it all over again, as soon as my engagement with Athena ended, I’d start working on Dana.”
“Regrets don’t do us a bit of good,” his father said. “They make you feel terrible. Action is the only way to improve your circumstances. Maybe you and Dana need to sit down and have a heart to heart.”
“I would if she answered the phone. I left a couple of messages for her, but she hasn’t responded yet.”
“She’ll come around. Right now, she’s hurt, but you two have known each other too long to let a few angry words come between you.”
His father was right. He didn’t intend to give up on Dana but hated not being able to talk to her when he wanted. When they were only friends, sometimes weeks passed without contact because she was spending time with her girlfriends or he was hanging with his guy friends, but anytime he reached out she answered his call. Not now, and the loss of contact was destabilizing. Dana was his rock and had helped him through plenty of tough spots since they became friends. Next week he launched Kitchen Love, and he wanted her by his side.
She was smart, and he could talk to her candidly without judgment. She helped him sort through his ideas, and he learned to lean on her a lot over the years—probably more than he should—treating her like a partner instead of simply a friend.
She helped him pick the location for the foundation, after traipsing all over town with him and a real estate agent to look at properties, and they weighed the pros and cons together. When he told her about his idea to open a restaurant, which would double as a means to fight food insecurity, she stayed up all night with him while they performed preliminary research on the Internet.
Cole came onto the balcony and greeted Omar and Senior. With his back facing the yard, he tucked his hand into his pockets. “What are you two talking about?” he asked.
Omar took a moment to consider his answer to the question. His relationship with Cole was a little better, but not by much. About a month ago, he was in a foul mood for a few days but never told any of them what happened. Then he played golf with Omar and Senior once, but he didn’t do very well, became upset, and left the grounds cursing. They were never able to convince him to return. For those reasons, their relationship remained tenuous at best, so Omar wasn’t in the mood to divulge any information about his personal business to his brother.
“Nothing much,” he answered, and quickly moved on with, “You’ve been off work for a while. When are you going back?”
“Why? You trying to get rid of me?” Cole sounded like he was joking, but Omar sometimes couldn’t tell if he was or not.
“Nah, man, just wondering how you’re able to take so much time off.”
“I have a lot of banked leave. Use it or lose it, so I decided to use it. I’m going out for a bit.” He left them on the balcony.
Senior looked at Omar and shrugged. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s been restless since he came here. Something’s definitely wrong, but he hasn’t said a word to me or your mother. He’s going through something, though.”
“I wish he would talk to us,” Omar said.
“You have as much chance of your wish coming true as having an end to poverty. Never gonna happen.” Senior took a drag on his cigar and let the smoke float into the air.
Omar hoped his father was wrong and whatever was eating at his brother was resolved soon.
21
After receiving a stern talking to from her friends, Dana admitted the error of her ways. Wednesday was the last time she spoke to Omar—a full three days ago, and she missed him like crazy. Acting like a jealous shrew was not going to help their relationship, so she was going to surprise him by showing up at his place with his Father’s Day gifts.
Gift-giving to a man who could literally buy anything he wanted was not always the easiest task, but with Omar, the thought truly counted. Since she could never buy him extravagant gifts, it forced her to think of unique or cute ideas he could appreciate, and she was especially excited about her choices this year.
She couldn’t decide between two sets of father-son T-shirts and ended up buying both. One was black with silver lettering and said, The Original, while the child’s T-shirt in the same color said, The Remix. The other T-shirt said Me while the smaller kid’s shirt said Mini-Me. Both were too adorable to pass up. The third gift she purchased was a one-year membership to a hot sauce of the month club because of his penchant for spicy food. The first month’s bottles were included in the gift-wrapped box.
She left Omar a voicemail earlier to let him know she was stopping by with his gift a day early because a while back he told her that he, his father, his brother, and Prince were spending Father’s Day together.
When she arrived at the building, she greeted the doorman and used the key card Omar gave her a while back to access the upper floor where he lived. She stepped off the elevator, almost skipping down the hall with the silver and blue wrapped box cradled in her arms.
She could hardly wait to see his expression when he opened the package. She rang the doorbell and waited.
He didn’t come to the door, so she rang it again. Maybe he wasn’t home, and she’d have to leave the package downstairs.
Then the door was opened and her ear to ear smile fumbled when she saw the woman standing in front of her. Dana recognized her right away from a few of Prince’s special occasion photos Omar had shared.
This was Athena, Prince’s mother and the woman Omar used to be engaged to. Full-figured with honey brown skin and long wavy hair—which at the moment was wrapped in a towel—she stood in the doorway, her obviously naked body covered in the same blue and white terry-cloth robe Dana used on the nights she stayed over. Athena looked at home, as if she lived there.
“Hi, can I help you?” Athena’s eyes dipped to the box in Dana’s arms.
“Hi, I-I’m a friend of Omar’s. Is he here?”
Prince squeezed past his mother and grinned up at Dana. “Hi, Miss Dana. Are we having another sleep over?” he asked excitedly.
Dana’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Hi, sweetie,” she said. “No sleep over tonight.”
Athena looked at her funny. “Dana, I’ve heard Omar talk about you before. I’m Athena, Prince’s mother. Nice to meet you.”
Extending one hand and balancing the box in the other, Dana shook hands with her.
“Come in, and I’ll let Omar know you’re here. He’s in the back exercising, and you know how he gets when he’s exercising. He’s so focused, he has headphones on and is listening to music. Give me a second, and I’ll get him.”
Athena headed out of the room with Prince skipping along behind her. Dana watched her wide, swaying hips and tried her best not to be jealous, yet she was. Seeing Athena here was a slap in the face. She wanted to believe nothing was going on, but the woman was walking around his condo as if she lived there permanently, not to mention she was attractive and the mother of his child.
When Athena broke his heart, he turned into a lover man branded with the moniker Mr. Casanova. How easy would it be for him to fall back into
the same old feelings while staying under the same roof as the woman he used to love?
The thought made her physically ill and brought to light her worst fear—her relationship with Omar could be fleeting.
He came into the living room, shirtless and wearing shorts, sweat glistening on his skin like a thin coat of Vaseline. Noise-canceling headphones hung around his neck, and as he came closer, she noted concern in his eyes. At least he recognized how his ex-fiancée traipsing through his apartment looked to her.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
Dana tried to smile but couldn’t quite get there. “I left you a voice mail but you must have already started working out. I thought I’d surprise you by bringing your Father’s Day gift a little early. Happy Father’s Day.” She thrust the box at him and when he took it, she spun around and headed for the door.
She reached as far as a hand on the doorknob before Omar slammed his left hand above her head to block her from leaving.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong.”
She turned to face him, nose filling with the musky scent of masculine sweat. If she weren’t upset, she probably would have jumped him.
“You have no idea what I’m thinking.”
“Athena told me a while back she might come to town. She flew in last night, and I was going to tell you, but we haven’t talked.”
“Your ex-fiancé is staying at your condo and walking around naked in your face,” Dana whispered fiercely. “Should I be worried?”
“Athena and I have been finished for three years,” Omar said in a steely, low voice.
“Doesn’t mean old feelings can’t come back.”
“That’s exactly what it means, at least in this instance.”
“I’m happy to hear your feelings for her are completely dead. Can I go now?”
Omar didn’t answer, staring down at her in the silence. Then he said, “We’ll finish talking outside.”
He opened the door and ushered her into the hallway.
“Quick question, there aren’t any vacancies in the hotels in Atlanta?” Dana asked.
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