by Tara Brent
“Ted, can you take a breath? Let me see you take a breath.” A second nurse enters. “Check his oxygen. Can you breathe, Ted?”
After a minute, Dad settles down. The nurse tries to take the remote out of my hand. I look down at it. I didn’t realize my finger was on the call button. Dad’s eyes are glistening as he looks at me. My mouth is tight. I feel pity but I also feel hatred. My mother was the only reason why I’m still standing here.
“Maybe I should leave?” I speak to the nurse.
Dad’s eyes widen, and I tense wondering if he’s about to start coughing again.
“Don’t worry about it,” the nurse smiles. Her accent is as soothing as a lullaby. “He’s better now. Aren’t you, Ted?” she calls out to Dad. “He looks forward to your visits.”
Dad stares at me with wild eyes until I sit down by his bedside again. The nurse leaves him on his side with pillows placed against his back. I turn my gaze to the floor as he desperately stares at me. He stares at me as if I can keep him here on earth. He knows where he ought to be. His hand reaches toward the edge of the bed. I see it shake in my peripheral vision. I can’t ignore it. It will be too cruel, so I reach for him. His skin is cold and thin like paper. I’m only grasping onto bones.
“You are the only thing I have left of your mother, Jack. Cyrus Harrison is a shit and so is his son Derrick. If your mother knew that I let you get near them.” He gasps as a tear slides down his cheek and balances on the edge of his nose. “You have to end it with Cyrus. It would break your mother’s heart if she knew you were working for him.”
“I don’t work for him, Dad,” I reply coldly.
He sighs. “Vince told me that you still take packages. You have to stop.”
“You still owe him money,” I bite out. “I’ll stop when the debt is paid.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I’m in here,” he tries to laugh. “My bookie won’t visit a place like this unless he’s in a body bag.”
Dad closes his eyes as he drifts off to sleep. As weak as he is, he keeps a firm grip on my hand. He changed because Mom made him change, and when she died, he didn’t change back. But the damage was done and we couldn’t cross that gaping hole of suspicion that kept me from trusting him. Mom would want to know someone was looking after him and she would have expected it to be me. I was her son, and it was because of her that I knew how to be a good man.
Chapter 3
Maya
I check my phone for the hundredth time in fifteen minutes. Where is this woman? Where is Jackson’s date? I stare out the restaurant window, searching the streets for some sign of her imminent arrival. Did she forget the time? Tapping her number on my screen, I glance over at the owner again. This sucks. The owner Harris closed his cafe for breakfast, so that we could shoot here for the tenth CuteMeet date. The Cultured Bean is the place to get the best-tasting coffee in a twenty-mile radius of this town, and this silly woman is making me look like an amateur in front of everyone in the place.
“I’m really sorry,” I tell him again. I try to look sorry, but deep down inside, I’m ready to scream that woman’s name until she comes running in here to make me stop. Where could she be?
“It’s okay,” Harris smiles stiffly and walks toward the back. I love going to Bean for lunch and persuaded Harris to allow us to film our live stream here. The trendy interior is perfect, with quaint wooden tables and chairs set against cheery mint wallpaper. It has an apparent girlish vibe that appeals to the type of clientele we want to sign up.
My gaze drifts over to Jackson, who’s seated at a nearby table, checking his phone. I smirk, thinking he looks like an ad for an expensive MBA when he never went to college. His long legs barely fit under the table, and he’s stretched them out to the side. He’s satisfied with drinking a cup of plain coffee. Harris looks miff that he’s been deprived of the pleasure of making something requiring cream, sugar, and skillful hands.
“No pastry,” he asks Jackson. “Or a yogurt parfait?”
Jackson barely looks up. “I don’t eat sweets. Plain coffee is fine.”
“Very well.” Harris gives me a withering look that only requires the subtle lift of an eyebrow. He turns on his heels and returns to the kitchen as if Jackson had told him the food was inedible.
Sighing, I try that woman’s number again. I’ve already sent her a wall of texts, and no response. I pace the floor glancing over at Jackson each time I circle the room. Then it happens, Jackson stops looking at his phone, and checks his Rolex. That’s bad. He could’ve checked his phone discretely for the time, but that sends a definite message. I rush over to his table.
“I am so sorry.” I take the seat opposite Jackson and give him a sad, pleading face. “I am so sorry I’ve wasted your time. I’ll fix it somehow.”
Jackson laughs. “Oh, here we are on memory lane. That’s the face you’d give the boys right before you were about to get into major trouble.”
Slightly embarrassed, I frown. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to guilt you.”
He waves it off and then puts his phone away in his suit pocket. “Maya, don’t get worked up over it. It’s okay. I’m free this afternoon. I can wait.”
I check the time on my phone again. “It really isn’t okay. We were supposed to have started the live stream ten minutes ago.” My phone chimes, and it’s a text. Thank god. I’m all ready to forgive the flake for being late until I read it. “She’s bailing,” I squeak.
“Wow, I’ve been stood up.” Jackson blinks his eyes in surprise. “Good thing, we aren’t live yet.”
I gasp, and immediately start babbling like my tongue is numb. “I am so sorry I cannot apologize enough. I’ll get you a gift certificate. Coffee is on me. Can we pay for lunch?”
Jackson stares and then talks to me in a soothing voice as if I’m whacky. “Maya, I’m teasing you. Remember we used to do it as kids. It’s okay.”
I stand up, almost taking the table with me. “It is not okay. One, I’ve wasted your time, and two, I have nothing for my live stream.” I stare at Jackson thoughtfully. He’s dressed in a suit tailored to fit his broad shoulders, the top button of his shirt is undone, and his face is clean shaved. He has a presence that says I know what to do all the time. I bite my lip wondering if I’ll ever achieve that coolness someday.
So like a chicken that’s lost its head in the barnyard, I start running around the restaurant. I tell my crew what has happened. It’s only a two-person crew, but still. My gaze lands right on Harris, who’s been watching with interest from the kitchen door. Fuck, what am I going to say to him? Jackson took it in stride, but I had to convince Harris that this would be good publicity. People would become aware of his wide menu, and then I glance over at Jackson’s lone cup of coffee. I’ve got to fix this. I’m on the verge of running out into the street and grabbing a woman when one of my crew taps my arm.
“Are we still streaming,” asks Alex. “Do you want to upload later?”
“This sucks. I don’t even know what to do?” I stare at him as if his graphic tee has the answer printed on it.
“Why don’t you do it?” he asks, looking me up and down. “You have on a nice dress.”
Wide-eyed, I step back fast as if he’s just told me off with a string of curses. “Me,” I stammer. “No, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” he asks. “You say you know him. I’m sure he’ll play along. You just pretend he picked you for a date.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I hiss under my breath. “We don’t have that kind of relationship.”
“What? A relationship where you can drink a cup of coffee with a person at the same table?” He looks at me like I have no concept of what a social life is.
Okay. That makes me feel stupid. My eyes widen as I glance over at Jackson who’s taken an interest in the conversation. I’m certain I look like a frog perched on the lily pad.
“What’s happening?” Jackson asks us from across the room. “What’s the game plan?”
Bef
ore I can say a word, Alex answers for me. “I’m trying to talk Maya into being your date, so we can shoot the live stream but she doesn’t want to do it.”
Jackson lifts an eyebrow. “Why not, Maya?”
“She says you don’t have that kind of relationship,” replies Alex for me.
Jackson lifts both eyebrows. “What kind of relationship do we have, Maya?”
The room goes silent, and I’m on the spot to say something but what I don’t know. I want to have a relationship, and I’d love it if it were with Jackson. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a girl. But it’s never happened because there was never a perfect opportunity for it to happen, so what’s my problem now? His expression is shaded over by his brows knitted together, and for a sliver of a moment, I think that maybe he thinks I’d reject him. That’s nuts. I’d never say no to him.
“If it’s okay with you,” my voice squeaks, “then it’s okay with me.” I’m smiling as if I just learned how and I want to show everyone how well I can do it.
Smiling, the tension in Jackson’s expression immediately disappears. Standing up, he holds out his hand toward me. And as if we were kids again, I put my hand in his and he leads the way. Jackson pulls out my chair like a real first date and waits for me to sit down.
“Wow,” I tease him to cover up my nerves, “you’re acting just like a freaking gentleman.”
“I am a gentleman,” he replies, “when I’m on a date with a lady.” He winks. “It’s after the date that things become questionable.”
My face heats up as if I’d just wolfed down a bowlful of five-alarm chili. He’s never said anything like that to me before. Nothing suggestive. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him flirt with a woman before IRL. I’ve seen them coming and going out of his life but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in action before.
The crew sets up around us, which means hipster one, Alex, carries over a smartphone on a tripod while hipster two, Eddie, stares at his laptop. I make eye contact with Harris, and he comes to the table.
“Can I have a latte? And we’re ready,” I tell him, “I’m filling in as Jackson’s date.” The minute those words left my mouth I felt like the biggest dork on the East Coast. Did I actually brag that I was on a date with Jackson? I sit up straight and grab the napkin off the table placing it on my lap. I do my best imitation of what a cool person would do in this circumstance. But inside, I’m screaming and dancing a jig of joy.
“You look flushed,” announces Harris. “I’ll get you a cold glass of water first.”
“Thank you,” I cringe then recover quickly as Harris pours my water, “Alex, let me know when you’re streaming.”
“I’m streaming now,” he smiles staring into the back of his phone.
“What?” I almost spill my glass of water, but Jackson quickly grabs the glass before it can topple over. I close my eyes for a moment and channel my inner businesswoman to appear. The reason why I am here is to sell the business not to drool over the handsome man sitting across from me that I want so desperately. I turn the charm on high voltage, and pull it together with a big smile. “Hello CuteMeet, and welcome to our special live stream.”
I introduce myself as the owner of the app and then reintroduce Jackson who gives a casual wave to the camera. I make some lame excuse about the date not showing. Honestly, now I couldn’t care less why that woman didn’t show. I’m finally on a date with Jackson Hayes. I have to keep myself from giggling and my voice is bubbly. I’ve always heard the word bubbly but now I know what it means because I’m experiencing its elation. I feel so happy and high that I could float up to the ceiling. I’ve just won the prize I’ve always wanted even if it’s only for fifteen more minutes.
But practical me has to control the content of this live stream. I decide to interview Jackson during our date, while promoting the app. I know he’ll play along and make the dates sound more enticing than I’ve witnessed them to be so far.
“Jackson,” I purr reaching carefully across the table and tapping his hands with my fingertips, “have any of the women you’ve met so far, fit your description of the perfect one?”
“Not until today,” Jackson speaks in that sexy drawl. He grins and then his gaze flicks over my cleavage. Oh god, did he just check me out? Jackson gazes into my eyes, and my mind goes blank. My heart is pounding like a drum at a new-age retreat.
I’ve never been in the line of fire before. His sexiness was always aimed at some other woman. The sexy sound of his flirty voice traveled from my dizzy head to my tummy and made it flip. The only thing I can think to do is giggle, which I didn’t want to do. And I don’t need a mirror to know my face is redder than my lipstick.
I clear my throat and catch my breath. “How sweet of you to say such nice things. But seriously...”
Jackson cuts me off. “I’m being serious. I like watching how the sunlight sparkles in your eyes when you smile at me.”
I inhale so deeply I grip onto my chair to keep from swooning. So, this is the full treatment? This is how he sweet-talks a woman. No wonder he never sleeps alone. Okay, I nod my head. Okay, scoring is just a game to him, so play along. Give him a little challenge and it will be good for business. I cross my legs.
“You are smooth, Jackson, and very handsome.” I give him my best smile stretching my lips wide so my dimples pop in my cheeks. “Would you like to tell the ladies what a second date would be like with you?”
He leans back in his chair as cocky as ever. “Bridgetown has many fine restaurants and I’d like to sample each one with a special woman. Then return to my penthouse with a view and watch the sunrise over the Atlantic while sipping fine wine.”
For a moment, I’m speechless thinking about what that would be like. How it would feel sitting beside him, our bodies close as we cuddle and watch the sunrise after a long night of... Luckily my business brain gives my pent-up body a hard prod, and I recall I’m on camera.
“Yes. Oh God. Yes.” I speak a little too loudly. “That sounds lovely. So ladies, there are still twenty dates left. Sign up on CuteMeet and take a chance of meeting the man of your dreams.”
“We’ve got a minute left,” says Alex.
I glare at Alex like I hate the sight of him, and he cuts the feed. I take a long sip of my water as Jackson watches with a grin on his face. His attention is on me as he watches with a cool gaze. Was I obvious? Did I embarrass myself? Does he finally know that I want him desperately? That I want to be that woman on his couch? One of too many—the elation passes quickly with that thought. I put down the glass and search for my self-respect.
“Maya, do you want to come back to my place?” he asks. “We can figure out a game plan in case there’s another no-show.”
I nod. “That sounds reasonable. But we could go to my office.”
Jackson shakes his head. “No, let’s got to my place. I can show you the view.”
***
I hold my breath the whole ride up in the elevator. I had seriously expected Vince to jump out from a dark corner and drag me away swearing like the last time. That was embarrassing on an epic scale. I had also expected Vince to burst into the café, his tie flying behind him as he rushed in to save my honor. He’s been defending it since the first boy tried to play doctor with me. I punched that boy good but I didn’t wish to keep slapping boys for being fresh especially when they were the right boys.
Sighing, I’m surprised and relieved when the elevator doors open and I made it. I’m in Jackson’s penthouse.
“Is it what you had expected?” he asks as I walk slowly into the living room.
I have a guilty look in my eyes, which causes him to laugh. I try to locate my cool and remind it to stick by me. “It’s nice,” I reply nonchalantly, as the butterflies zoom around in my belly. “A little sterile.” I run my fingertips along a side table by the wall as I look over at the monochromatic seating that fills the living room. The oak tables are antiques with the patina of wear and marks from previous o
wners but there are no pictures or photos on the bare cream walls. “Do you have something against art?” I ask. “Not even a museum store print?”
Jackson walks over to the wall and touches a cord. The curtains across the length of the wall pull back and slowly reveal a view of the Atlantic that is artwork itself. I step close to the balcony windows. And gaze out at blue and white waves moving toward the docks with a clear sky stretching above it. It’s the perfect view and I want it as my screensaver.
Jackson stands near me. His hands don’t touch me but his body heat does. “So, did you mean what you said or was that for the live stream?”
I swallow but don’t dare look at him. I shrug. “What about you? Was that for show?”
He faces me. “I asked you first, Maya.”
My lips part. “I meant every word,” I whisper. “But you’d never be interested in me.”
He scoffs, and I look over at his amazed expression. “Why not?” he asks.
I feel shy and look down at my toes, which are pointed awkwardly in. I feel like that little girl again trying to keep up with the big boys. My caution makes my cheeks warm but I have to make a decision now if I truly want him. “No matter how I feel about you or how much I want you, you only see me in one way. Because we grew up together, you’ve seen all my stupid shit.” I raise my gaze to Jackson’s. “I’ll always be that silly little girl to you.”
Jackson steps closer. “And I’ll always be that punk-ass kid to you.”
I shake my head furiously. “No Jackson, I don’t think of you like that anymore. You’ve grown up,” I chuckle. “You turned out extremely nicely.”
“And why can’t I think the same of you?” he asks. “We know each other Maya. And that should be a good thing.”
Feelings are flooding into me as I smile. I didn’t know he thought that way, and I step a little closer. The one I’ve always wanted wants me. I stare into his warm gaze as he leans in, and I tilt my head while closing my eyes.
I moan as he holds my chin and my lips part. His mouth presses hard against mine, and my head spins. It’s the kiss I’ve been waiting for since I was a little girl. And it didn’t disappoint. His hand grips the back of my head gently as if he wants to make sure I won’t pull away too soon. His thumb brushes my cheek softly, and I catch my breath. My body leans into his until there’s no space between us. I lift my hands and place them on his shoulders. His solid frame supports me as I try to get even closer. My breath quickens as his other hand lies on the small of my back. I moan when he lets me go.