Autumn and Summer

by Danielle Allen

  I can definitely see what they see in him. Okay, now look away, I commanded myself. When I reached the hostess stand, I waited for the hostess to stop talking before asking her about my dinner reservations.

  “Hi! I’m meeting someone. The reservation is under Shemar. He—”

  “Autumn?” I heard the questioning inflection in his voice and I figured it had to be Shemar.

  Turning around, I found myself face to face with the basketball player the doorman had pointed out.

  “Autumn,” he extended his hand and I took it, dumbfounded. “You know me as Shemar. But you can call me Malik.”

  Recovering quickly, I smiled. “Hi, Malik, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “I know it’s a little early for dinner, but there are less people here at this time. And with less people, we can talk with fewer interruptions.”

  We had dinner in the private room, an exclusive section of FX that wasn’t really a room at all. Although it was a private area, someone must have seen us walk. Once word spread that NBA superstar Malik Williams was in the building, people were trying to take pictures and get his autograph. Known more for his humanitarianism than his playing time, Malik was a superstar in the DC area.

  The food was delicious and the conversation was light-hearted and fun. But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about all the different women he’d brought to FX.

  Is that hypocritical of me? I’ve been here three times with three different men. I didn’t sleep with any of them so there’s a reasonable chance that he didn’t sleep with all of the women he came here with. Regardless of the rumors surrounding the exploits of professional athletes, I shouldn’t make assumptions, I deliberated with myself. On the other hand, it’s very likely he had sex with most, if not all, of those women. And if that’s the case, he’s definitely not relationship material.

  At the end of the date, Malik and I stood outside of FX making small talk while we waited for the next available taxi to arrive. Security kept people a safe distance away while we talked.

  “My penthouse has a beautiful view of the city if you’d like to come and check it out,” he offered, flashing a sexy smile.

  “I’m just going to head home. But thank you for a lovely evening. It was so nice getting to know you,” I responded sweetly.

  “Are you sure?” Malik looked surprised.

  “I’m sure. I’m just going to go home.”

  A taxi pulled up in front of us and he reached to grab the door handle. Before pulling it open, he looked back at me and asked, “So you have no interest in seeing the penthouse or continuing the night elsewhere?”

  “No, thank you.” I smiled politely. “But I appreciate the offer.”

  “Okay, okay, I understand,” he concluded, helping me into the taxi. “I like the chase.”

  He closed the door and I waved, thinking, I’m sure you do.

  Giving the taxi driver my address, I pulled my phone out of my handbag. We hit some standstill traffic about a block away and I looked at the time. It was still relatively early, but all I wanted to do was curl up with a good book. Checking my messages, I saw one from Boris and one from Jordan.

  Boris: I have genuine feelings for you. We can talk more later, but I couldn’t let the night go on without me reiterating that to you.

  Jordan Moretti: I’m leaving the restaurant early tonight. If you aren’t doing anything, I’d love to paint with you. No pressure.

  What have I gotten myself into? Jordan is everything I want in a man. He’s such a gentleman and he makes me all hot and bothered with his cute little smile and sexy body. And on top of that, he makes time for me. But he’s not divorced yet, so I can’t allow myself to get too close. Boris, on the other hand, isn’t looking for a relationship because he doesn’t have time. Sight unseen, Boris is everything I want in a man. Except for the lack of time he has to spare to actually see me. And let’s be honest, I’ve only known them for two weeks. Boris and I have a lot in common, but in person, we could have zero romantic chemistry. And Jordan and I have physical chemistry and so much fun together, but he is technically still married. I know I should just walk away from both of them, but I can’t deny how alive they both make me feel. But the facts still remain—Jordan is not yet divorced and Boris refuses to make time for me. Maybe I should just have a face-to-face conversation with them and then walk away, I decided as I sent a text message back.

  Autumn Jones: Does your painting offer still stand?

  Jordan Moretti: Of course. Have you eaten? I could whip up something.

  Autumn Jones: No, thank you. I just ate. But I’ll be there in about 15 minutes.

  When the taxi pulled up outside of Jordan’s downtown studio apartment, I hopped out and ran to his door. Knocking twice, I was welcomed with a huge smile and the smell of something delicious baking in the oven.

  “Hi, Jordan!” I greeted him with a warm hug. “It smells amazing in here.”

  “I just whipped something up. I know you already ate, but I was hoping you might have room for dessert.”

  He closed the door behind me and led me into his art room. “Don’t freak out…” he started slowly. “But there’s plastic on the floor and walls to keep the paint from getting everywhere.”

  Pushing him playfully, I retorted, “Ha, ha. Jerk!”

  Turning and wrapping his arms around me, Jordan pinned my arms to my sides. “Call me a jerk again,” he warned sexily, his voice dropping an octave.

  “Or what?” I taunted him softly. Looking up into his sparkling green eyes, I bit my lip. Halfheartedly, I tried to twist out of his hold. He held me tighter, bringing my body flush against his.

  Bringing his face a fraction of an inch away from mine, he held my gaze. I could see him struggling not to smile and my stomach fluttered. His lips grazed my cheek on the way to my ear. “Try it and see,” he whispered, tickling the sensitive flesh behind my ear with his breath.

  My heart fluttered at the sensation. I closed my eyes and relished the feeling. The smell of chocolate wafted in the air and mixed with the scent of Jordan’s soap. Between the smell and the heat of his skin, I was intoxicated. Slowly, I opened my eyes to find him staring at me.

  “Jerk,” I mouthed to him with heavy-lidded eyes.

  Barely letting the words escape my mouth, Jordan’s lips collided with mine with a restrained urgency. It was achingly sweet and gentle, yet at the same time, it was powerful.

  Releasing my arms, Jordan slid his arms around my waist. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  The plastic on the wall crackled as he pressed me up against it. Pressing his body up against mine, I moaned into the kiss. All the stress and confusion of the day melted away as Jordan’s lips enveloped mine. It felt as though the deeper the kiss, the easier it would be for me to pretend Boris didn’t exist.

  Suddenly, the oven timer went off, startling us apart. My heart was racing both from the kiss and the timer’s unexpected alarm.

  “The brownie bites,” Jordan explained, running his fingers through his hair.

  With both hands in his hair, my eyes scanned his body. When my eyes darted to the front of his jeans, I could see that he was visibly aroused. Smiling, I looked up at him and realized I was caught.

  “I feel like I can’t control myself around you,” I admitted.

  He adjusted himself before grabbing my hand and kissing it. “Tell me about it.”

  Following Jordan upstairs, we sat in the kitchen and let the brownie bites and our bodies cool down.

  “I promise I asked you over here to paint,” he said, amusement in his voice.

  “Well, we just spent twenty minutes making out so I don’t know…” I cocked my head to the side and looked at the handsome man across the table from me.

  Just thinking about kissing Jordan again causes my body to react. Maybe it can be more…maybe the divorce will be official soon, I considered as I watched him place two brownie bites on a cute little plate in front of me.

  “Thank yo
u. It looks so good!” I complimented honestly.

  “You look so good,” Jordan responded automatically, picking up a third brownie bite and feeding it to me.

  Opening my mouth, I took a bite with a smile. “Mmmm,” I moaned as I chewed. He popped the other half of the dessert in his mouth.

  Pointing to the serving tray and the matching plates, I remarked, “This set is really nice.”

  “Thank you,” he replied appreciatively. “I was going to get new ones, but I couldn’t find anything else like it.”

  “Why would you get new ones? They look new.” I marveled at the beautiful set.

  “Because, um…” Jordan hesitated, “my ex-wife purchased them.” He held eye contact even though he looked terribly uncomfortable.

  The silence filled the kitchen as the mention of his marital status echoed in my ears. Here’s my opening to ask about his future ex-wife and their marriage, I thought.

  “Did you two have a messy break-up or something?” I asked cautiously, unsure as to how to approach the situation.

  “You could say that.” Again, he didn’t elaborate. “Anyway, the multiplex is showing midnight movies starting next weekend. Would you be interested in going?”

  I looked at him blankly for a beat before asking, “Jordan, why is it that you never want to talk about the whole future-ex-wife thing? We talk about everything else in our lives, but you skirt around the separation.”

  Leaning across the table, Jordan ran his hand across mine. He looked down at our intertwined fingers before meeting my gaze again. “I married young and it didn’t work out. We grew into two different people and we wanted different things. Things were messy at first, but it’s being handled now.”

  “If it’s been so long and she hasn’t signed the divorce papers, it feels like things might be still messy…emotionally.”

  Jordan shook his head. “Emotionally, no it’s not messy. Financially, it’s a little messy and that’s why she won’t sign the papers. She wants more money. More specifically, she wants Ciao Bella.”

  So emotionally, it’s over? That doesn’t change his relationship status, but that’s promising, right? I thought, warming to the thought.

  “So, you’re ready to date? I know you said our first date was the first date you’d been on in a while so…” I let my sentence trail off. “I guess I’m just wondering what you’re looking for?” I asked, curiously.

  “I don’t know. This is my first real attempt at dating since I was eighteen years old. So twelve years later, I’m just taking it one day at a time, you know?

  “I get it.” I nodded in understanding. I smiled gently, hoping to ease the tension I could see building behind his eyes.

  “We separated a little more than two years ago. My lawyers assure me that we’ll be divorced soon. I’m just waiting for her to sign the paperwork.”

  “How many people have you dated since you two separated?”

  “Not many,” he answered uneasily. A second passed before he continued, “Just you.”

  “Just me?” I repeated, my eyebrows shooting up. The silence that followed echoed through the air so loudly I fought the urge to cringe.

  “You’re the first person I’ve felt ready to date.” He smiled one of his trademark shy smiles that highlighted his gorgeous eyes.

  With a smile that I know didn’t reach my eyes, one word kept playing in my head as I sat across from him:

  Rebound.

  **********

  Chapter 15: Summer

  “…so after telling him that we should just be friends, I left his place almost immediately and got home a little before midnight,” Autumn concluded over lunch at DC Deli a few blocks from home.

  “Wow,” I exhaled. “He said he wasn’t dating anyone and hadn’t dated anyone since he’s been separated. I just thought he meant he hadn’t had a relationship because he was newly single and doing some much needed mingling.” My mouth hung open and I’m sure the shock was evident on my face.

  “Well, what he meant by that is that he hasn’t dated anyone at all since his wife,” Autumn clarified, popping a seedless green grape into her mouth.

  “Damn. I’m sorry. I would’ve never set you up with him had I known.” Running my hands through my hair, I slowly shook my head.

  Autumn gave me a look, narrowing her eyes. “I thought you said there wasn’t anything wrong with dating a man who’s divorced.”

  “There’s not! You just don’t want to be the first one he dates after the divorce. Especially not you. You’re too good, too sweet, too…lovey.”

  Autumn rolled her eyes and I had a moment to admire her expertly applied eye makeup. “Too lovey? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know exactly what it means. You’re so relationship minded that you aren’t the right candidate for a fling or to be a rebound. You’re just not equipped for it. You are the complete opposite of me.” I gave her half a smile before continuing, “You are wife material.”

  “And you aren’t?” she asked in exasperation.

  “No, I’m not. I’m not relationship material at all. And I’m not interested in it, thank you very much.” I chomped down on my chip to emphasize my point.

  She pushed the remaining portion of her sandwich to the middle of the table and threw her hands up. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” I answered simply. “But you knew that so I don’t know why you’re surprised. Nothing is going to change on that front.”

  Again, she rolled her eyes. “Okay.”

  “I’m not going to entertain whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours so let’s talk about something else,” I said as I finished my sandwich.

  “I have one question… why do you think you made up having a boyfriend and then avoided work all week?” Autumn leaned forward, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “I told you. I am attracted to him and he has a girlfr—”

  “You think he has a girlfriend,” she interrupted with her lips pursed.

  “Fine. I’m attracted to someone who probably has a girlfriend so I removed myself from that situation.”

  “You’ve never acted like this about a guy before. Never.” She gestured with her hands to emphasize her point.

  “So?”

  “So you’ve been talking about this Xavier Ford for the last three weeks. Every single time you talk about him, your face lights up. Even when you were pissed that he called you a stalker, you still talked about him constantly and went to work. But the moment you two have some alone time, you lie and say you have a boyfriend and then you avoid work all week because there’s a chance you might see him. You don’t think that means something?” The exasperation in her voice and the truth in her statement made me defiant.

  “No.” I sat back in my seat and nibbled on the skin at the tip of my thumb. Just hearing his name made my heart flutter.

  Xavier is unavailable, I reminded myself. And I just needed a week to detox from seeing him. If she saw him, she’d understand. It’s not anything more than intense lust. It’s lust in the most primal, animalistic, carnal way, but still only lust. I blinked slowly trying to erase the way his blue eyes crawled up my body whenever we were around one another.

  Shaking the image, I focused on Autumn who was looking at me the way a mother looks at a lying child. Or a teacher looks at a cheating student. Shit, I thought, looking down at the last bite of my sandwich.

  She sighed as I put it in my mouth.

  Chewing slower than usual, I watched her watching me and as the seconds ticked by, I knew that she knew something was up. And sometimes that’s the downfall of having a lifelong best friend, I grumbled, feeling myself growing increasingly uncomfortable. They always know when you’re bullshitting.

  “Fine! What do you think it means Autumn?” I sighed, narrowing my eyes at her.

  “What do you think it means Summer?” she countered, her head cocked to the side.

  “So, I’m pretty sure I figured out who my date is with tonight,” I sa
id, changing the subject abruptly.

  I could almost see Autumn’s struggle between trying to get me to admit to having feelings for Xavier and wanting to know if I really knew who I was going out with. And I know the exact thing to say to tip her over the edge, I thought, utilizing any means necessary to get my best friend off of my back.

  “You don’t remember telling me about the eight passes to the hospital gala your job was gifted thanks to your campaign. Your supervisor did a lottery for who would go. I remember this because you said your idea was the idea that won the hospital over, but your number didn’t get called in the lottery to go to the gala…” I smiled as I saw the dots connecting quickly. “And you told me who won…”

  Yes, my friend, I remember, I thought, nodding and smiling devilishly. It has to be Max, Trey, or Juan…unless there’s someone new that she works with who somehow got their hands on those gala tickets.

  She laughed. “I was hoping you had forgotten! That was months ago!”

  Tapping my forehead, I winked at her. “You know this is a steel trap.”

  Picking up her trash and standing up, she responded, “Yet somehow you keep forgetting that I can I read you like a book.”

  Saved by the bell, I thought as my cell phone started ringing. Although I didn’t recognize the number, in an attempt to avoid where the conversation was going, I answered the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Summer Wilson?” The thick accent and annoyed tone immediately alerted me to whom I was speaking and caused my lips to purse.

  “Yes, Gabriella,” I responded with an equal amount of annoyance in my tone. I picked up my trash and threw it away.

  “We are adding one more person to our ‘Most Eligible Bachelor’ spread so you need to take the photos. We need them by Monday. Go to 119 Elk Hill in Alexandria at 1pm.”

  One o’clock?! That’s in an hour, I thought anxiously.

  “Gabriella, I don’t—”

  “Don’t mess this up,” Gabriella interrupted before hanging up the phone.

  I looked at the phone in disbelief. Looking at my best friend, I said, “I fucking hate her.”