Something True: Atlanta Outlaws

by Aja Cole

The voice comes out of nowhere and I startle, head whipping around. Taking a step back off the stair, I lean a little to the side and see a familiar face in the open window.

  One that looks like an older, elegant version of mine.

  “Hey mama.”

  “Get in here young lady, stop loitering outside like you’re a visitor.” The window shuts after that scoffed command, and I drop my head with a smile, shaking my head as I make my way into the house. Waiting for me in the foyer is five feet, two inches of strength and grace, otherwise known as my favorite woman in the world.

  “Well?” She arches a slim brow, holding out her arms. I move into them, and even with her head only coming up to my chin, her embrace doesn’t feel any less safe or comforting. My eyes start to burn and before I can stop the tears, they’re coming, messy and uninvited. She holds me for long moments, soothing her hand over my back until my sniffling is all that’s left of my stupid crying jag. “I guess you didn’t just come for an overdue visit, hm?”

  I shake my head against her, mute.

  “Come into the kitchen and you can tell Mama all about it.”

  My mom taps pale pink nails on the table, face unreadable. “I see.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Oh, I can speak now?”

  I cross my eyes, “Yes Mama, I’m finished.”

  I’d asked her not to say anything until I told the whole story, though I obviously left a few pieces out that don’t pertain to the matter at hand.

  “Took you long enough.” She says simply, shrugging toned shoulders. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t take you years to realize that man isn’t for you, so I’m happy for that.”

  I wait for her to start speaking again, sure that she has more she wants to say.

  But she doesn’t.

  “That’s it? No lecture? No I told you so?”

  Her full lips pull into a frown, “Why on earth would I rub it in? I may not have approved of him, but your feelings for him were very real for you. I’m sorry that things happened the way they did.”

  Well now I feel like a brat for thinking of not telling her for a few more days.

  “I’m sorry too, Mama. Is Daddy out in the workshop?”

  “Where else would he be? If you’re going out there, take him this since lord knows when he’ll remember that his body needs fuel.” She stands and moves to the fridge, pouring a glass of the lemonade she’d made earlier before she sets two sandwiches and a bag of kettle chips on a tray. She shoos me out of the kitchen after she gives me the tray, “Go on, you know he’s gonna be elated that his baby girl dropped in.”

  “Knock, knock,” I lean against the open sliding doors of my Dad’s workshop, watching him sand one of the pieces he’s working on. “Came all the way from California to deliver lunch.”

  My dad drops the sandpaper, bushy dark brows raising as he turns around. “Nomi? What...when did you fly in?” His dark face spreads in a wide smile as I move closer, setting the tray down before I let him envelops me in a bear hug. “How long are you here for? Girl, I missed you somethin’ fierce!”

  I press my face against his burly chest, inhaling warm cedar and lemon. It’s a smell that reminds me of my childhood, and it’s comforting. So damn comforting, like nothing is as bad when my Dad’s around.

  “I’m not going back to California. I left Vaughn, we’re getting divorced.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that sweetheart.” He squeezes me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

  “Don’t lie Daddy, I know you and Mama have been waiting on this.” I pull away, patting his cheek softly so he knows that I don’t mind it. “It was time.”

  “Well…in that case, good riddance to the bastard. Always something smarmy about him, like a salesman who’s just blowing smoke up your ass.”

  I laugh, “He did blow a lot of smoke up my ass.”

  “How are you? You need anything? You need to stay at the house for awhile?” He searches my face, concern all over his. “You know your room’s here as long as you need it.”

  “No, I’m gonna stay with Corie. But I do need to put a few things in the guest house until I get a new place, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course, baby girl. Anything you need.” He smacks another kiss to my forehead before he hugs me to his side impulsively. “So happy to see you. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

  “Okay, Daddy.” I squeeze his side, then leave him to his early lunch and his wood-working. He eats and works intermittently when it’s a project he’s really excited about, so I know better than to try to talk to him at the same time.

  Before I head back across the path to the house, I make a stop by the little fountain in the garden. My parents have a well, but we weren’t allowed to throw coins in there. Instead, they placed a stone, tiered fountain in the garden and whenever we felt the urge to make a wish…this is where we came.

  Digging into the pockets of my jeans, I know it’s unlikely that I’ll find any spare change and I don’t have my wallet. Tapping the stone rim softly, I resolve to be prepared next time.

  But as I turn around, something glints in the grass between the stones on the ground.

  One penny.

  Palming it in my hand and closing my eyes, just like I used to do when I really believed that wishing worked, I whisper my wish into the air and toss the coin in for old times sake.

  I’m too old to believe in fairytales and magic fountains now, but there’s something to be said for the comfort of the way things used to be.

  13

  “Cecilia Drake?”

  A pretty receptionist with wavy red hair and creamy, pale skin pokes her head out of the doorway, searching the welcoming waiting area.

  “That’s me.” I try to school my face, hoping that I look more excited than I feel. This is my fourth and last interview for today, and I have two tomorrow.

  After today…I’m not looking forward to them at all and I’m learning that job hunting seems to suck a little bit more this time around than it did my last year of college. Maybe it was the optimism I had then that it’s harder to have now.

  I can’t imagine how people feel with larger gaps on their resumes, because I feel like I’ve gotten the third degree over why I left a good job and took a year off. I got married seems like such a paltry excuse and on the second interview, I just said that I wanted to re-evaluate what I wanted from my career but that I left my previous job on great terms.

  When they ask this time, I’ll say the same thing and hope it doesn’t need a follow up.

  The other woman holds out her hand and I shake it, “I’m Bethany. Follow me, and I’ll show you to the conference room.”

  “Great. Everyone calls me Nomi.”

  We walk a short distance before she pushes open a door, gesturing for me to go ahead of her.

  “This is Nomi Drake. Nomi, meet Jenna Marcus and Kiely Samuels. They’ll be interviewing you today.”

  “Thank you for taking the time to speak to me.” I reach over the table and shake both of their hands, before sitting down in front of them. Bethany closes the door and leaves us alone, and I look around the room, noting that it’s a lot less stuffy and much more warm than the other conference rooms I’ve been in today. Red cushioned chairs, a white table, then wood and gold accents around a room that seems like it’s the perfect temperature. Actually, the outside area was like this too. Not too cold, not too warm, just…comfortable.

  “Well, I trust Vanna’s judgement and she was adamant that we needed to meet you since our former media planner transitioned into staying at home.” Even sitting, it’s clear that Jenna has some height on her slim frame. With long, fine blonde hair, big blue eyes and high cheekbones under unblemished skin, she looks like she belongs on someone’s runway.

  “It couldn’t be me, let me tell you. I love being away from my kids during the day and I trust my nanny implicitly.” Kiely adds, winking at me. “But we did share a womb, so that helps.”

  Kiely is the dark to Jenna�
��s light features in almost every way. Deep ebony skin, close cropped dark curls and expressive brown eyes. Where they match is both being drop dead gorgeous and I’m very aware that the curls I put in my hair this morning have dropped pitifully by now.

  My eyeliner is uneven because my hand is never steady enough, there’s a spot of ketchup on my pencil skirt because I dropped a French fry at lunch and I just feel blah.

  Blah because the other interviews didn’t go as expected.

  Blah because it seems like I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

  Blah because these women are already so put together and obviously successful and I just don’t feel like I measure up to anything that I need to right now.

  Pushing back my chair, I dig my nails into my palm. “Actually, I’m sorry. I…don’t think I’m ready for this. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

  They stand too, confusion on their faces.

  “Nomi, please stay. At this point, all we’re doing is getting to know each other.” Jenna says.

  “We won’t press you to make any decisions today. If nothing else, maybe it’ll help to have listening ears?” Kiely adds, gesturing to my vacated seat. I almost leave anyway, but something in their faces...I don’t know, they seem genuine.

  Kind.

  I sit, and so do they.

  “We’re pretty casual around here. Maybe if we tell you a bit about us and who we are, you’ll feel more comfortable.” Kiely leads, and Jenna nods her agreement. “Jenna and I worked for the same big agency, but we didn’t like the vibe. Didn’t like how competitive and shady everyone was to each other, always wanting to step on someone else’s back to get to the next level. One day, we just decided to quit. Over drinks and complaints and realizing that we wanted a more supportive environment, we came up with a plan for this place. My husband thought I was out of my mind, and Jenna even broke up with her fiancé over it.”

  “Yep, he couldn’t believe that I wanted to leave stability for the uncertainty that can come with starting your own agency. At the time, we were saving for marriage and a house and kids and to him, I was rocking the boat and changing the plan.” Jenna smiles softly, “He’s s as good guy, but we just weren’t a good fit anymore. I wanted to take the risk and he thought it was reckless.”

  “My husband came around after I gave him the full picture. He was still wary, but he started to cheer us on too. Five years later and we’re constantly amazed at how well loved we are. We’d both made connections at our old agency that served us well. That along with word of mouth and sticking to our mission to create a supportive and inspiring work environment has ensured that we never have a shortage of clients nor potential hires. We’re selective, about the business we take on and who we allow to handle it. What about you? What’s your story, Nomi?”

  “I worked formally as a marketing manager at a start-up for two years out of college. Then I got married and moved and...now I’m getting divorced and trying to put things together again. This is my fourth interview today, and you two are just so...together, that I don’t know what I can add here. It feels like I’m starting all over.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with new beginnings. We don’t expect perfection, here. All we expect is respect, kindness and passion for the work. Sincerity and a willingness to be open is important to us.” Jenna says, reaching across the table for my hand. “We’re all a mess in our own ways. But the difference, we think, is that no one is going to use that to kick you when you’re down here.”

  Kiley pierces me with her fierce gaze. “So what, you took a year off? So what, you’re getting divorced? None of that diminishes your skill or talent, and we’ve seen your portfolio. If you can believe that you’re worthy of a new start, then we’d love to have you. But, you have to believe that just as much as we do.”

  I pull in a deep breath, nodding. “I understand.” Pausing, I think about what the old me would’ve done if an opportunity like this had dropped into my lap.

  I would’ve thought that I deserved it because I was so sure of how good I was.

  I wouldn’t have questioned or second-guessed why they’d want to hire me or what I could add to the agency because I knew that I would be an incredible asset to any company.

  Whether it was a post-grad arrogance or well-earned confidence, the end result was the same.

  I believed in myself.

  And I want to figure out how to do that again.

  “Here is a summary of salary and benefits, as well as workplace culture and general guidelines that are important. Take it home, look it over and you can let us know if you have any questions. No pressure, but we’d prefer to know your decision by the end of the week.”

  Making a split decision, I accept the packet.

  “I’d like to read through this first, but barring any crazy requirements, I’d like to accept the job.” I nod my head, more sure as the seconds pass. “This feels like the right place for me, and I’d like to give it a shot.”

  Jenna claps her hands and Kiely rounds the table. I stand too, surprised when they each pull me into a quick hug.

  “Unofficially, welcome to the team, Nomi.” Kiely beams.

  “I think we’re going to work a lot of magic together.” Jenna squeezes my hand gently. “I can feel it. I know you’ll do great here.”

  God, I hope so.

  I could use some wins.

  14

  The first thing I do when I leave Pink Slate is scroll through my contacts to tell my family the good news.

  Only...the scroll bar stops on a number that I swore I wouldn’t even save.

  But I did.

  And…before I can make myself stop, I pull up my text messages.

  Think I just managed to actually get hired…

  The phone starts to ring when I’m almost to my car in the parking deck I and I almost drop it.

  “Congratulations, gorgeous. I’m not surprised at all.”

  “So you’re that person that calls when someone sends a text?”

  His dark honey voice is threaded with amusement. “Is that a pet peeve of yours?”

  I slip into the front seat, starting the car and switching the phone over to bluetooth. “Only when it’s someone I don’t want to talk to.”

  “Am I one of those someones?”

  I insert the validated ticket, watching the exit bar raise. “You should be.”

  “That wasn’t a no.”

  I can just hear him smiling, and even worse, I can picture how sexy it is without even trying.

  Fuck.

  This isn’t good.

  I should not have texted him, because we can’t go any further than what we’ve already done.

  Not only do we not want the same things in the future, but he lives across the country and I can’t see myself leaving Georgia again to live anywhere else.

  Home is where the heart is, and my family is here.

  I left for a man once, but it’s not happening again.

  “Well, thanks for letting me share the good news. I’m sure you were in the middle of something.” It’s a poor attempt at ending the conversation, and we both know it.

  “Nope, just got back from lunch with a buddy of mine and now I’m just hanging out on the couch,” He’s quiet for a moment before he continues. “Can’t help but think about my face buried in your pussy when you were here.”

  “Jackson!” His words take me by surprise and I put a little too much pressure on the gas before I realize that I’m speeding and I really don’t want to get pulled over when my nipples are beaming through my blouse like this.

  “What, are we pretending it didn’t happen?”

  I pull in a shallow breath and try to tamp down the rising arousal. “No…just…”

  “Just don’t mention that I miss the way you taste? Or feeling how hot your skin gets when you’re dripping wet and begging me to let you cum?”

  That one runs a full body shudder through me and I grip the wheel so tightly that I leave a few nail marks on t
he smooth leather.

  “Jackson…” This time, my voice is a lot breathier and a lot less alarmed.

  “You like the thought of that too, hm?”

  “I’m driving…”

  “I tell you what…I’m not going anywhere. So, when you’re alone, call me back…and I’ll pick up where I left off.”

  At a stoplight after I get off on the exit to Corinne’s, I bite my lip and knock my head against the steering wheel, groaning silently.

  Nopenopenopenopenope.

  But that is not what comes out of my mouth.

  “Okay…I’ll call you later.”

  His voice is almost a purr, and damned if my breath doesn’t hitch at his next words. “Good, baby. Don’t make me wait too long.”

  I’ve lost my mind.

  I stare at my phone on the kitchen island for I don’t know how long, and I’m still staring at it when Corinne walks through the door, takeout bags in her hands.

  “Why are you looking at your phone like it’s going to grow teeth and bite you any second?”

  “That’s a bit dramatic.”

  She starts taking containers out, giving me a skeptical look. “You look a bit dramatic.”

  “Just hoping I don’t get a phone call.”

  “Vaughn?”

  “No, but speaking of phone calls, have you tossed chignon’s number yet?”

  Corie busies herself with grabbing forks from the drawer and drinks from the fridge, sliding a hard cider bottle towards me and keeping an alcoholic Arnold Palmer for herself.

  “Why would I toss it?”

  “Because you’re too chicken to break up with your girlfriend.”

  “I don’t want to make a hasty decision. If we break up again, it’ll be for good.”

  Stopping her from stabbing through the carton with her fork, I pull away the container of Mongolian beef and put a few on my plate before I grab the lo mein.

  “Are you happy, Corie? Genuinely? I think that’s always a good place to start. Yeah, your partner shouldn’t be your only source of happiness but if they’re just a point of stress, then...”