by Lym Cruz
After a long sermon about the virtues of Ashlyn Oxley, my mother left and then my phone pinged at the sound of an incoming text.
David: Check your inbox.
Andrew: Thanks, bro!
I opened my email, and there it was—the information I needed to get to her. I took my phone and called an old friend. He answered almost immediately.
“Ahoy there!” Ricky laughed. “What do you need?”
“I’m very busy and I need you to track a number.”
“Done.”
Chapter 4
Melissa
My friends and I wandered into the reddish brick and glass building on Fifth Avenue that housed Mollie’s. The hostess welcomed us and led us to a table at the center of the room which gave us a 360º view of the restaurant. Sunlight streamed through the Bistro glass windows, striking the dark ceramic floors, creating an equilibrated, lustrous atmosphere. The weather was one of the reasons I fell in love with this city, it was always impeccable.
I bounced a little on the soft, cushy seat then budged forward to skim at the menu atop the white clothed table, noticing the numerous empty seats surrounding us. Most frequenters of the Bistro were suits from nearby offices and with two hours past lunch, the few remaining customers were leaving.
“What about Ezra?” Christina suggested, “For some reason he annoys the shit out of me, but it’s obvious that he’s totally into you.”
Christina was a Mexican with long, black hair, bronze skin, and dark eyes. We met in my second year in this city. One glance from across a coffee shop was all it took to unite us. Christina smiled at me and I smiled back; we’d been inseparable ever since. Through Christina, I met Erica, her best friend. Erica was the milk to our coco. She was as pale as one could be considering the roasting California sun. Dark blonde hair, almost brown, flowed to her shoulders with long bangs covering her big blue eyes.
“Ezra is nice, but he’s—”
“He’s what?” Erica cut in, “Too short, too young, too tall, too fat, too skinny. You always have an excuse.”
I groaned shaking my head. Men were a problem I could do without. My friends couldn’t understand why I was so picky when it came to relationships and they weren’t at fault. They knew bits and pieces of my history. I was careful to share only what I thought of as relevant. They did not need to know every sordid detail.
“They’re not excuses.” I crossed my arms and rested on the chair. “There is no connection between Ezra and me or any other guy.”
My mind, without warning, brought up Andrew. The same Andrew who sparked a fire in me, in the past and in our most recent encounter. Trying to forget him was hopeless. Erasing the memory of his eyes. His touch. And his smell was impossible. I hadn’t thought about that night in a long time, and now, it was a constant on my mind. I struggled to shuffle the real from the imaginary. However, everything blended into a blurry cloud of pain, regret, and shame.
“Besides, I don’t need a man to be happy,” I added with a sweet smile. “I have you guys to love me unconditionally.”
“Aww! Babe,” Christina chimed, pouting.
“I love you too,” Erica squeaked, “but can we place the orders and eat? I’m starving.”
A disgusted noise came from Christina’s throat. “How don’t you get fat? If I ate a quarter of what you eat, I’d be floating with a huge butt.”
Erica blew wayward hair from her overlong bangs and smiled. “I’m awesome like that.” Then she called for a waitress who took our orders.
“It’s Friday,” Christina said, fixing her hair up into a bun. “Are we going dancing?”
“Yeah!” Erica snorted, rolling her eyes. “Is that, like, even a question?”
“I asked it so it must be.”
“I’m with Erica on this one,” I said, “How could we possibly not go?”
Dancing was my favorite thing to do in life. I couldn’t hear a good rhythm without tapping my feet. I felt alive when I moved to a beat. Momentarily, I forgot my troubles and traveled to a place of full tranquility.
The waitress returned and set our drinks on the table. Water for Christina and freshly squeezed lemonade for Erica and me. I brought the glass to my lips and took a sip from the cold drink and looked up. I shivered and felt my skin tingling. Almost like a dream or nightmare, his face appeared in the direct path of my eyes.
No way.
My breath hitched and I choked on my drink.
“You okay?” Erica patted my back gently.
“Mmm-hum.” I nodded coughing and my throat burned.
Andrew entered the bistro with two other guys who also seemed familiar. Our gaze met. A shrewd smile teased his mouth as the hostess led them to a nearby table.
My chest heaved with the emotions he stirred. I wasn’t sure if I was glad or enraged to see him. But one thing I knew: My past needed to stay in the past. I came here to get away from everything, but the past wouldn’t let me go. It was haunting me. He was haunting me. I swallowed hard trying to subdue the knot forming in my throat.
“What the hell are you looking at?” Christina murmured, following my gaze. “Oh!” Was all she said when she grasped who I was staring at.
“Do you know them?” Erica whispered, leaning in.
With my eyes fixed on Andrew who was bluntly staring back, I answered, “The one with the brown eyes is, Andrew Malcolm. The one from the law firm.”
“The one who ran after you?” Erica asked with a frown. “The one who nearly broke your leg?”
Darnel’s version of the event was akin to a movie scene but I just nodded, confirming that he was indeed the one.
Christina took a long sip of her water then said, “No one said he was this fine. I’m calling dibs on the blond.”
Erica rolled her eyes. “What are you, like, ten?”
Christina and Erica went on bickering. I couldn’t pay attention to what they were saying because there were countless thoughts running through my mind. Andrew was a vivid reminder of the lowest point of my life. My palms began to sweat the longer we continued the staring match. Then I forfeited, averting my eyes from his and buried my face in my hands. The conflicting emotions he brought about were smothering me.
“I’m going to the restroom.” Quickly, I stood from the table and strode to a short hall leading to the bathrooms. I found three women chattering in front of the mirror but I disregarded them. Placing my hands flat on the marble vanity counter, I dropped my head contemplating what to do.
“Should I leave?” I questioned myself out loud not caring who heard. “I can’t keep running every time he shows up.”
“Are you okay?” One of the women asked.
“Yes. Fine,” I replied without looking up and they returned to their conversation.
Straightening, I placed my hands under the tap and with cold water splashed my face. I looked at my reflection through the mirror and let out a weary breath. I was pallid.
There was no point in hiding in here. I couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. I reminded myself that I was no longer that vulnerable girl he met six years ago. That I was no longer in that compromising situation. I was stronger and had matured and needed to start acting like it.
I walked out of the ladies’ room with my head held high, only to have my steps come to a jolting halt. Maybe not as strong as I assumed.
Andrew was in the hallway leaning on the wall, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling. Sensing my presence, he returned to an upright position and slipped his hands into his pockets with his legs marginally parted. His biceps peered through his open gray suit jacket, and the blue dress shirt clung to his trunk. I took in a deep breath.
The bleakness of his gaze unnerved me. My shoulders sagged a bit and the back of my knees tickled. It was odd how his presence affected me. I tried to walk past him, but Andrew blocked my path.
“Why are you running from me, Melissa?”
“I’m not running. I don’t know you.” I lifted my chin to meet his eyes. “Why are you
following me?”
Andrew took a step forwards, making way for a woman on her way to the toilet, and also closing the space between us. “Are you afraid I’ll say something to your friends? Because if you are, I assure that I won’t say a word.”
“There is nothing to say, ‘cause I don’t know you.”
He laughed dryly. “Right.”
Andrew brought his hand up and ran his knuckles down the side of my face. I didn’t want to or mean to but I flinched. “You’re so beautiful.”
Another stream of memory hit me. I recalled Andrew kissing my neck at the club, I remembered the intensity of his kiss on my lips and of his touch on my flesh. I gasped as a tremor rippled through me and leaped back, away from his touch.
“I have to go,” I said, my voice betraying the firmness I wanted to portray. “Excuse me.”
Unexpectedly, Andrew clasped both my forearm and drove me against the wall. I had no chance to protest when he sealed his lips over mine. I pressed my mouth shut, preventing him from getting any more, but instead of pushing him away I pulled him to me.
“Let me in,” he whispered against my lips. “You want this as much as I do.”
I did. I wanted it.
In a moment of weakness, I parted my lips, and he took full advantage of that. The hands he’d had at my forearms were now at the curve of my hip, tightening reflexively. His lips were as soft as in my recollections, and his kiss felt the same. I whimpered as his tongue dipped in, tasting me with long, precise strokes. His heart beat vigorously against my chest. His kiss was hypnotizing, rekindling the flare I’d only ever felt with him. My entire body warmed up nearly combusting, and at that moment, of weakness, I wished he would never let me go.
“This is what I need,” A woman’s voice purred, bringing our kiss to an end, but Andrew’s forehead remained rested on mine. “Honey when you’re done, I’ll gladly take over.” The woman disappeared into the bathroom giggling. Andrew drew back panting, but his hands remained on my hips.
“Were they with you that night? Your friends?” I searched his eyes anticipating an answer I’d already known.
“I thought you didn’t know me,” Andrew laughed lightly with a hint of sarcasm. He hastily re-composed once he saw no trace of humor on my face. “Yes, but they won’t say anything.”
“Let me go.”
He stole one swift kiss before releasing me. Shoving past him, I marched out of the hall returning to my table.
“Oh, shit,” I grunted, catching the sight of Erica and Christina huddling with Andrew’s friends. I grimaced over my shoulder at Andrew who was right behind me. He simply shrugged. I inhaled a profound breath, resisting the urge to run and hide. I reduced my steps to a snail’s pace, not particularly eager to reach the table. Andrew settled his hand firmly at the small of my back—there was that pull again—steering me forward.
“Melissa,” Erica said, buoyantly as we approached. “Meet David and Robert. They’re Andrew’s friends.”
Avoiding direct eye contact, I slid into my seat, providing a small smile. They already knew me.
Andrew sat next to me, awfully close. Too close. I could smell him and felt the heat radiating from his body. Choosing to ignore the person next to me, I tried to get a feel of Andrew’s friends. Robert was tall. Taller than Andrew with massive, sun-stricken blond hair, light blue eyes—I swear to God he looked like Thor. David was cute, the shortest of the three by an inch or two, dark green-eyes and his brown hair was lighter than Andrew’s, and when he smiled, I noticed his dimples.
Our meals arrived, and although the salmon on my plate seemed delicious. I couldn’t fully savor it, my appetite was lost. The waitress returned to take Andrew and his friends’ orders and I used the distraction to clean the sweat arising from my palms.
“Are all of you in College?” David asked.
Erica swung her bangs, her blonde hair followed sweeping across her shoulders. “We…” She pointed to Christina and herself. “Are graduating at the end of the semester.” Then Erica turned and pointed a finger at me. “She... still has a semester left.”
David nodded and raised his hand to Erica’s face hesitating halfway. “May I?”
“Hm…” Erica breathed. David didn’t wait for her to agree. Gently, he lifted her bangs exposing her face while she blinked baffled.
“I like to see people’s faces when I talk to them.” David let her hair fall. “You shouldn’t hide those lovely eyes.”
Erica’s cheeks turned bright red and it relaxed me somewhat to see her uncomfortable. She then lowered her face endeavoring to hide her blush. Giggling, I took a fork to my mouth.
“Thank you,” Christina said, “we’ve been telling her to cut that thing for so long, but she won’t listen.”
“You should listen to your friends,” David said, smoothly with a brow raised and a cute smile on his lips.
“How do you walk?” Robert chuckled. “Can you see past your hair?”
Erica hummed what was supposed to be an answer, forking mouthful after mouthful. The look on my friend’s face was priceless. She blushed at the simplest comments.
Soon the conversation shifted from Erica’s hair to random questions about us, mostly asked by David and I answered none of them. The girls were doing a fine job responding on my behalf.
The waitress returned with their plates of food and set their meals on the table with a smile, brighter than the sun outside. They all ate steak and the food kept them quiet momentarily. Andrew then adjusted his chair, shifting even closer to me and placed his hand on my bare knee; softly drawing circles on my skin, causing me to squirm in my seat. He glided his hand upwards until he reached the hem of my dress and kept it there completely still. I tugged my leg away from him catching his risqué smirk. It disappointed me.
Men who recognized me from my former life thought they had the right to do whatever they pleased to me without permission. They were often disrespectful and treated me poorly. It saddened me to realize Andrew was not different from the others. He wanted my body. That was all that he saw.
“How’s your ankle,” Andrew asked.
“Healed,” I quipped.
We ordered dessert, but the guys skipped, they had to return to work. “Thank you, ladies,” Robert said, taking a couple of notes from his wallet, and laid them on the table. “We had a lovely time, and we’ll see you later.”
What? See us where?
Before standing-up, Andrew placed a kiss on my temple, and the three of them left. I watched them walk away, thankful that they were leaving. Once they were out the door, I exhaled a breath of relief and then redirected my focus to the two pairs of huge, surprised eyes staring at me.
“What?” I shrugged.
“Chica! Wow!” Christina fanned herself with her hand. “Besides your sprained ankle what the hell happened between the two of you? ‘Cause clearly there is something going on.”
Discounting her comment, I said, “What’s later?”
Christina crinkled her nose and looked at Erica. Erica cringed her shoulders and took a sip from her lemonade. I needed no further explanation; I knew what was later. My nostrils flared with fury and I gritted my teeth. They’d invited them to my space.
“I’m not going.”
“Oh yes, you are,” Christina warned, “even if I have to drag you by the hair.”
Erica sat back with her arms folding on a sigh. “In times like these, I wish I were single.”
“You have plenty of time to get single,” Christina mocked with a bit of frankness.
Erica remained mute and ate her sundae. I gorged up my slice of chocolate cake, hindering myself from lashing out on them in public. There was no denying that a tiny part of me rejoiced knowing I’d see Andrew later on. However, the disappointment quickly killed the joy. Andrew wanted nothing to do with me, except of course for a quick fuck.
“Can we go to the mall?” I offered, attempting to cheer myself up and get Andrew out of my mind. I knew the girls wouldn’t oppos
e. They were as fond of shopping as I was. We were not shopaholics or anything, but we came pretty close and thanks to my father we could shop till we literally dropped.
My father, Anthony Alford, was a magnate. He owned a chain of hotels and restaurants across South America and Europe. Born and raised in London, he relocated over thirty years ago to Brazil where he met an attractive, young black woman who captured his heart and has been there ever since. Being the youngest, and the only daughter, of Anthony Alford came with enormous pressure. Once what I’d done had surfaced, it shattered my father. I couldn’t blame him. I had brought shame to the family name. I would never purposely hurt him and yet somehow that was exactly what I ended up doing. But that was all in the past, we’d made amends and things were good between us, although it had taken time to rebuild those bridges.
∞∞∞
Hours later, we were still going in and out of shops, laden down with bags.
“Come on, guys,” Erica whined, “I think we have all we need. Seriously, we’ve been shopping all afternoon and I’m tired.” She sank to the floor with shopping bags pooled around her. I dropped next to her and kicked off my shoes.
“There’s a bench right next to you.” Christina pointed to a fluffy, maroon bench nearby, but I stayed in place, stretched my legs, and rested my head on Erica’s shoulder as fatigue overtook. The carpeted floor of the shoe store was comfortable enough, and the sales lady wouldn’t complain. We never left her store empty-handed. “How are things between you and Ian?”
Erica stiffened for a split second then relaxed. “Fine. We’re good.”
Ian was Erica’s sweetheart and had been since forever, according to Christina. I straightened to face her because her answer was unconvincing.
“Fine?” I echoed.
She nodded. “Fine.”
Christina hummed her disbelief opening a box of shoes to examine the pair inside. “That David guy seemed interesting,” she said casually.