by Lewis, Tasha
* * *
Waking up, I see the sun streaming in from around the blinds of my window. I feel like I had the weirdest dream. I stretch my arms above my head wondering what day it is. I check the time on my phone and see that it’s eight on a Saturday morning. I haven’t slept in too late. I put my phone back on my nightstand and lay back in bed. I don’t want to get up just yet.
My dream comes crashing back to me and my mind races. Cupid was in my dream, and I paid him to find me a lover for our annual Valentine’s Day work party. I groan knowing that if I don’t have a date to that thing the mocking will be there in full force—for the third year in a row. Maybe I should find some Cupid guy to help me find a date. But, my dream...
Cupid hadn’t found me just any lover, but someone who was obsessed with me. Not to mention Ian, the guy I work with, had no idea who I was after he was hit with the arrow. If my dream were true, I’d think he may have feelings for me. Whatever that ship sailed long ago. Plus, I don’t date co-workers.
After laying there for a few more minutes, I get up and put on the same dress, belt and brown boots from my dreams. At least I have good fashion sense in my dreams. I look at my hair in the mirror and decide to let my curls be. No use in trying to tame them back like I normally try to do.
I notice that my smile reaches my eyes, and I’m filled with love. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel loved for the first time in a while. Maybe my dream was spot on. I only need to love myself. Don’t get me wrong, a man would be ideal, but I won’t force it.
For right now I’m just going to give myself some extra grace and a whole lot of love.
It’s a week and a half before Valentine’s Day. It feels a little warm outside, so I decide to take a walk. I’m a little dressed up for just hanging out indoors on a Saturday, so I’ll make the most to enjoy the weather.
As I walk down the street, I notice a few couples coming and going in different directions. They head into the different boutiques and shops. Hanging out downtown has always appealed to me, and it’s nice to be in walking distance for work and a few of my favorite places.
My stomach growls, so I decide to head to my favorite bar. It’s been a little while since I’ve seen Shawn, even though my dream made him seem so realistic. Maybe I can talk to him about the crazy thing.
Sitting at the bar, in my usual stool, I wave at him as he helps another table. After a few moments, he comes over to me.
“What can I get you today, Sleeping Beauty?” For some reason, Cass filters through my head and I notice that I haven’t seen her around in ages.
“So, two questions,” I say, as he pours me a glass of Vanilla Coke. I’m reminded of my dream that seemed totally real and chills run up my arms. Crazy.
“Just two?” He questions me, knowing that I never just have two questions.
“Well, to start.” I quip as he puts a straw in my glass. For a quick second, I think of sea turtles and feel a pinch of guilt. I really need to change that habit—just right after this drink. “I haven’t seen Cass around lately. Are things good with you two?” I hesitate when I say good, and kind of wiggle in my seat. I hadn’t really addressed their relationship directly before—only what he would tell me from time to time.
“Cass? Her and I ended right before Christmas. Shit timing, but it was for the best. And yes, I know what you’re thinking—we ended it for real this time. We’re officially done.” The finality reverberates from him, making me sit just a little taller in my seat. Single. That’s news to me. Granted, with the end of year bustle at work, and the hectic holidays, it’s no joke that I was locked away from the world.
“Interesting. Okay, next question. Do you have a friend named Walter Anderson by chance?” Please, say no. Please, say no, I chant to myself. Because how weird would it be if he did?
“I do, but I don’t ever recall introducing you both.” His look of confusion makes my dream even weirder. Could it have been real? How crazy would that be?
“Cool. Please don’t,” I tell him, a sour feeling creeping into my mouth at the poor guy bugging me non-stop in my all-too-realistic-feeling-dream. It had started off great, and then turned into a dangerous zone quickly—at least according to my dream.
“No more questions? That was two,” he says as he stands against the bar fully facing me. What if he…I stop the thought there. But…I look him over from his head to the start of his jeans, and I can’t help but wonder if his underwear is clean or turned inside out.
“Okay, another question. Your underwear. Inside out or a fresh pair?” I lean against the countertop and watch as his eyes zero in on my chest. He slowly lifts his eyes back up, lingering for a second on my lips.
“What’s your fascination with my underwear?” The heat in his eyes makes me want to step back, but I don’t. It gives me a little courage to keep pressing forward.
“I don’t know?” I lie. I do find it gross that he turns them inside out.
“Fresh,” he says and leans a little closer to me. “You do know that each pair I put on is fresh, right?” He questions me and I tilt my head in confusion.
“They are?” I ask not moving away from him.
“Every time. Even the times I said they were inside out.” My mouth falls open a little and I scrunch my nose up in embarrassment that I actually fell for his dirty, pun-intended, joke.
I pull back just a little and close my mouth and my lips pucker in a contemplative look.
“What are you doing on Valentine’s Day?” He asks me. I look around the bar, trying to see if he’s asking me or someone else. Did he just ask me out?
“Umm, just my work party. Nothing too fancy. I want to make an appearance so I can get the annual bonus that my boss gives us.” I swear the old geezer must be lonely on Valentine’s Day. Why else would he create a way for all of us to spend the evening with him? Not like we don’t spend most of our day in the office with him already.
Apparently, that isn’t enough. Granted, the bonus is worth it. Those that don’t show up, their money goes into the pot to be split between the rest of us that are there.
“What if I go as your date, and then I bring you back here and cook you dinner? Just the two of us.”
He is, in fact, asking me out.
“You’re closing the bar on Valentine’s Day? Isn’t that a big money maker day for you?” I ask him, leaning back onto the stool. I need a little space from his spicy sandalwood scent that he normally sports.
“I won’t be working. My apartment in the back is free of people though.” He tells me with a hint of shyness and hope in his voice.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” I smile at him, and almost lean in to kiss him.
“Then it’s a date. I’ll pick you up, Sleeping Beauty.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head. I feel it all the way down to my toes. I can’t help the smile that takes over my face. Maybe there’s something to just letting fate do its thing.
Sometimes I get to help the Fates out, as well as a couple who’s meant to end up together. Granted, some take longer than others. Like these two—destined to be together since the beginning of time. But time wasn’t on their side, until now. All Layla needed was a little push in the right direction—or a dream that felt more real than not.
Don’t worry. I only meddle when needed.
Cupid
Tailor Made: The Proposal
Playlist
Bruno Mars: Marry You
Ed Sheeran: Thinking Out Loud
James Arthur: Say You Won’t Let Go.
Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper: Shallow
Nathan Sykes, Ariana Grande: Over and Over Again
Now, this last tale that I have for you comes from a special place in my heart. If you haven’t read Tailor Made, do so now. I won’t say that I didn’t warn ya. If you need, scroll past this next part and check out chapter one of Tailor Made. My gift to you. You're welcome.
And if you have read the book, enjoy what’s next.
Cupid
&n
bsp; Chapter One
Mason
Some people would call me crazy, others wouldn’t care at all. I first met the love of my life, Rayleigh, seven months ago, And we moved in together three months after that. We’d just shared our first Christmas and New Years together. Now we’re sharing our first Valentine’s Day, and I want it to be epic. I’m Tailor Made after all—the ideal man for the ideal time.
We’d met when her friend Kat told her that she had bought her a night out with a man who would cater to all of her needs. That would be me. Little did we both know that we would fall in love and that our lives would move pretty quickly after that. Quickly enough that I have a ring in my pocket that I’m dying to give her.
If someone would have told me a year ago that I was about to propose, I would have laughed in their face and walked away. Granted, no one would’ve believed it either because all I did at the time was work and go to school. I graduate in less than four months with an MBA in finance. I’m ready to take on the world, or just finally move up the job ladder. My boss had explained to me that once I get my degree I’d get a raise— along with my own office. Either way, things are looking up right now.
“Mason, can you come clear off the table? I’m trying to make dinner and your stuff is all over.” Shelby calls to me from the kitchen. I head there directly to do as she says.
“Four more months, Shelbs,” I tell her and she hums at me.
“It can’t come soon enough.” She says as she hunches over the stove, tasting whatever’s in the pot.
“What are you making?” I ask, as I gather the last of my papers and put them in my backpack. I’d had enough studying for the day, so I’d showered, needing to take a relaxing evening.
“Chicken noodle soup. Nothing too hard. I’m not making the noodles from scratch.”
“You feeling sick?” Soup is typically something either of us will make when we aren’t feeling our best.
“Rayleigh said she wasn’t feeling so good when I’d asked her what she’d wanted for dinner.” She has more of my attention with the mention of my girlfriend.
“You talked to Ray? When?” Odd, I would have thought she’d have told me if she wasn’t feeling well. Granted, homework has consumed me, this being my last semester and all.
“Earlier today. I figured if she wasn’t feeling well I’d make her some comfort food.” She leaves the stove for a second and heads to the bathroom as I meander over to do a taste test of my own. Like always, Shelby’s nailed it with our mom’s recipe. I don’t understand how she has a knack for getting those recipes down. She was only ten when she was taken, too young to have learned to cook. Yet she can read her recipe book perfectly, while I miss the mark most of the time.
Both of our parents passed away several years ago. It’s just been her and I—until Rayleigh. Now, it’s the three of us.
I stir the soup around then tap the spoon on the side of the pot.
A few minutes later she comes back. “Did you mess with my soup?” She narrows her eyes.
“Never. Why would I do that?” I fold my arms across my chest and lean back on the counter.
“Because you usually do. So…?” I watch as she glances at the pot while it boils.
“Nope. So, what's wrong with Rayleigh? Did she tell you?” I wonder if her being sick will ruin my Valentine’s Day surprise for her.
“Not sure. She said she had a little headache and felt like she’s getting a bit of a scratchy throat. So, I figured—soup.” She points to the pot with a shrug. I toy with the idea of letting Shelby in on my secret, But the last thing I need is for her to let it slip to Ray. Those two have no secrets between them.
It’s been really nice to have Ray living with us. She’s become the woman in Shelby’s life that she can depend on, almost like a mentor or older sister. That gave me time to be more of her brother than a parent, though I still consider myself both. It’s been a tough transition for us, but overall it’s been great and worth it.
Anyway, who could I bounce proposal ideas off of? Remy, my cousin, and buddy from Tailor Made, is tangled up with his own woman right now, Claire. I could call his mom, my aunt Char, and see what she would say. She may talk me out of it, but it could make my resolve just a little stronger. Maybe call up a few of the other guys from Tailor Made, however, they tend to take things just a little too far. Plus, they also suck at secrets. Hmm.
“What has you concentrating so hard that you’re forming elevens between your eyes? What’s going on with you?”
I assess Shelby as I lean against the counter. She may have to be the one I confide in. It’s four days before Valentine’s Day, and if Rayleigh gets really sick, then I’ll have to change my plans.
“I need you to keep a secret. Got it?” I ask her, giving her my full attention. “If Ray’s sick, then this messes with my Valentine’s Day surprise for her, and I can’t have that. So, when you say she’s sick, how sick?” Being sick doesn’t mean that she’s dying, right?
I’d already talked with the owner and establishment know as Valters. The authentic Italian restaurant had become a favorite of Rayleigh's ever since I brought takeout over to her place several months ago. I asked Valt, the owner if I could rent out the back room and dazzle it up with decorations. You know, rose petals, candles, dimmed lights. Then I could pop the question and we could celebrate with an amazing dinner. Just the two of us. I already know that if anyone else is around she would get a little overwhelmed with all the attention.
Not to say that she doesn’t love attention—she enjoys it as long as her artwork is involved. If not, then not so much.
Now it seems I need to help Ray feel better or come up with a backup plan.
“Spill brother. I’m good for it.” Shelby crosses her arms and becomes serious, which isn’t a look she normally possesses.
“I need you to find out what kind of sick. If I probe too much, she’ll know something’s up. I’m taking her to dinner for Valentine’s Day.”
She rolls her eyes now, but little does she know that it’s not just any dinner.
“Isn’t dinner overrated? I mean, for your first date you went to an amusement park. That was something fun. Why just dinner?” She asks me.
“Well, it’s not just any dinner, little sis.” I don’t want to spoil the whole thing because I know she’ll make a big deal over it. “And it’s perfect for what I’m wanting to do. I’m making this special just like I did for our first date and all the other dates we have been on. Anyway, if she’s getting sick then it’s game over, and I can’t have that. That’s why I need your help. Figure out what she’s got and let me know so I can plan for it. Got it?” I wait for her to respond.
Her face is like reading a book. First, a look of confusion plays across her face. Then, doubt. Suddenly, like a lightbulb flicks on, and she’s full of surprise and excitement.
“Are you going to propose to her?” She squeals out, her whole body humming with anticipation.
My face falls into a grim line. She wasn’t supposed to know. “Maybe.”
“You so are! Do you have the ring? And do you even know how she wants it?” She starts to pepper me with questions, her arms flailing around her with passion.
“Shelby, shhh.” I grab her arms to hold her still as I look around the kitchen to make sure we are alone, even though I know we are.
“Come on, tell me!” She bounces in my arms. I can’t help but give in and tell her all the details. I even get the ring that I’ve hidden under the couch.
I open the box to show Shelby.
“It’s the ring that dad bought mom. I wanted to give it to Rayleigh, even though it isn’t anything big and modern. What do you think?” I ask, apprehension in my voice.
The excitement doesn’t come through the way I thought it would, and Shelby’s expression is blank. “I think that’s amazing, and something that she’ll enjoy.” Shelby folds into herself and looks a little sad. I pull her into my arms and hug her tight.
“Don’t worry S
helbs, we’ll still be here for you. We aren’t going anywhere.” I tell her as she stands in my arms. I can tell she’s trying not to crying.
“I know, Mason. I think the soup’s done.” She pulls away, but I’m still not sure why she’s upset.
“Shelby? What’s up?” I try to push.
“It’s nothing. I’ll figure out if she’s sick and how she’s feeling so you can surprise her.”
“Is it mom’s ring?” I ask, putting my hand on her lower back as she starts to move the pot off of the stove.
“It’s okay, Mas. I’m fine.” She brushes me away. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but if I know anything about my sister when she says fine, she’s anything but.
“You aren’t, Shelb. Tell me, please.” I keep probing knowing that she’ll shut down in a second and I won’t be able to get it out of her. Ray will know something’s up.
“I’m trying here, please,” I ask once more, knowing that her silence means that she doesn’t want to talk about it.
“I was just hoping to get mom’s ring. But it’s okay, someone should be wearing it and Rayleigh’s good.” Dejected, she turns away from me and I stop her, not wanting her to force me out when this is obviously important to her.
“I didn’t know her ring meant that much to you, or I would’ve talked with you sooner. I’m sorry.” I apologize to her and hold her in my arms as Rayleigh comes walking in the door.
“Hey, guys.” She calls out and she looks bad...really bad…but still beautiful regardless. But I know well enough not to tell a woman when she isn’t looking her best.
She is sick, though. That’s for sure.
Great.
I think my plans are ruined.
Chapter Two
Rayleigh