by Mason Dixon
“Last question,” Simone said. “Are you ready?”
Kenya nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Not trusting herself to feel the emotions surging through her. Except for one near-slip at Jayden’s party, she had been able to hold her attraction to Simone at bay. Why couldn’t she do it now? Did she even want to? Because despite everything that had happened, she wanted Simone. More than Mackenzie. More than anyone. More than she had ever allowed herself to admit. But how could she be sure she wasn’t channeling the hurt, anger, and embarrassment she was feeling in another direction? She couldn’t. Not until she was able to assign meaning to everything she had discovered today.
Simone squeezed her hands again and swallowed so hard Kenya heard her throat click. “I’m going places,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but someday soon.” She paused as if to gather her courage. “Question number twenty-one. Will you come with me?”
The words reverberated around Kenya’s head. Simone’s question was sincere. Heartfelt. The twenty questions preceding it had varied in degrees of difficulty. On the surface, this one should have been the easiest to answer—a simple “yes” or “no” would do the trick—but it was by far the hardest.
She couldn’t rely on her friends. She couldn’t rely on her family. For this, she would need to rely on the faulty instincts that had let her down over and over again. This time, she hoped they wouldn’t lead her astray.
“I can’t,” she said, finally finding the strength to pull away. “I just got out of one so-called relationship and I don’t want to jump right into another one. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”
“I’m not trying to pressure you into making a decision today. I just wanted to let you know how I feel.”
Simone had made her feelings clear from the moment they met. When a simple drink order had turned into something much more complicated. Mackenzie’s arrival on the scene had made the situation even more problematic.
Simone and Mackenzie were from two different worlds. Mackenzie had grown up surrounded by money and power. Simone had struggled to make ends meet. Mackenzie was a wildly successful businesswoman, and Simone was still struggling. This time to fulfill her dreams. With Mackenzie, she would have wanted for nothing, but she would never have been secure in the knowledge she was the only woman in Mackenzie’s life—or her bed. With Simone, she would lack for creature comforts, but she would know where she stood.
She couldn’t go back to Mackenzie after everything that had been done and said. But with all the promises she had made herself about not repeating past mistakes, how could she possibly move forward with Simone?
Mackenzie had spun a web of lies over the past few weeks, but one thing she said today had rung all-too-true. Kenya had fallen for the idea of Mackenzie, but she had developed feelings for the woman standing in front of her now. The woman who had stood by her the whole time. Supporting her. Challenging her. Protecting her. Simone’s methods might have been heavy-handed at times, but her heart, it seemed, was in the right place. Now Kenya’s heart didn’t know where to turn. Mackenzie was everything she had thought she wanted, but Simone was everything she knew she needed. So why couldn’t she bring herself to say so?
Simone felt like the answer to every question Kenya had ever asked. She felt like the answer to a prayer. But so had Mackenzie. And look how that had turned out.
“I need to be on my own for a while,” she said, unwilling to make yet another mistake. She already had two strikes. First Ellis, then Mackenzie. She didn’t want Simone to be the third. She cared for her too much. Even if, at the moment, being in the same room with her hurt like hell. “I need time.”
“I understand,” Simone said. “Believe me. I do. I know you’re hurting right now and I’m not trying to make your pain any worse. I would take it away if I could. I don’t want to take advantage of you while you’re down, Kenya. I don’t want to catch you on the rebound. I’m willing to wait until you have your feet under you. When you do, I’d like to be standing beside you. I hope you want that, too. If you do, you know where to find me.”
Simone headed for the door. Kenya watched her go, wondering if she had just let the best thing that had ever happened to her slip through her fingers.
*
Simone berated herself all the way home. She hadn’t gone to Kenya’s planning to make a play for her. She had intended to apologize for keeping Mackenzie’s indiscretion from her and attempt to make things right between them. Instead, she had made an already bad situation exponentially worse. As a result, she had added to Kenya’s confusion rather than clearing it up.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she said as she slammed her apartment door behind her and threw her keys across the room.
She sat on the couch and held her head in her hands. She was dying for a drink. She needed to feel the caustic burn of alcohol, cauterizing her pain and taking away the hurt. She grabbed a bottle of vodka from the freezer and poured herself a healthy shot. She raised the glass to her lips but couldn’t bring herself to swallow.
Alcohol was a crutch she used to lean on when she needed a confidence boost or she wanted to forget something she couldn’t bear to remember. But she didn’t want to erase Kenya from her mind. She wanted to safeguard the memories she had made with her as long as she could because she might not have a chance to make more.
She poured the well-chilled vodka down the drain, tossed the empty bottle in the trash, and allowed the memories of the past few weeks to wash over her.
She remembered laying eyes on Kenya for the first time. Flirting with her. Helping her get over her nerves. Seeing her let down her defenses. Then watching her pair up with Mackenzie. She remembered the smile that lit up Kenya’s face every time Mackenzie looked in her direction. And the self-doubt that crept in when she didn’t think anyone was watching. She remembered laughing with her at Jayden’s birthday party. And watching her twirl in Mackenzie’s arms a few hours later. And most of all, she remembered the sound of the pain in Kenya’s voice when she had asked who was the last person who made her cry and Kenya had said she was.
“What was I thinking?” she asked, kicking herself yet again for not spilling her guts when she had the chance. Now she and Mackenzie were the same in Kenya’s eyes. And she didn’t know if Kenya would ever be able to forgive either of them.
During her last two shifts at Azure, she felt like she was sleepwalking. She went through the motions—mixing drinks, making small talk, listening to coworkers and customers alike saying how much they would miss her after she left—but it felt like part of a bad dream. It felt like it was happening to someone else. At least she didn’t have to spend her last night dealing with Mackenzie, who was conveniently called away “on business” and had asked Jolie to express her appreciation for all the hard work she had put in over the years. Allegedly. Simone figured the good wishes had come from Jolie herself and Mackenzie didn’t give a shit one way or the other. Mackenzie was probably only too happy to see her go. In a way, so was she. Even though her future was uncertain, it looked much brighter than her past. As long as she ignored the dark cloud hovering over her relationship with Kenya. Or what was left of it.
During her going-away party, she kept looking at the door, half-hoping Kenya would walk through it. But Kenya never showed. She didn’t call or text, either. She just stayed away. Simone hadn’t expected anything different, but she wished Kenya had proven her wrong.
Kenya had said she needed to spend some time on her own. Time to think. Time to heal. Simone was willing to give her all the time she needed, but how long was she supposed to wait before she admitted Kenya would never forgive her for not disclosing what Mackenzie was doing behind her back?
Taking refuge in the studio, she poured herself into her music like never before. Reagan complained about a few of the drawn-out recording sessions, but her grumbling lessened when she heard the finished product. It lessened ever more when she saw the galleys for the sugges
ted cover art for her EP. And it disappeared completely the first time a local DJ played her lead single on the radio. Simone’s dissatisfaction, however, continued to deepen.
“I gather Kenya broke up with that businesswoman she was seeing,” Simone’s mother said after Simone sulked her way through a family get-together. “It was all over the papers. I thought that would make you happy. So why are you moping around like your dog just died?”
“I wouldn’t be if Mackenzie was the only person Kenya dumped.”
“What do you mean?”
“She got rid of me, too.”
Her mother dried the soap suds on her hands and turned off the faucet in the kitchen sink. She still insisted on washing dishes by hand despite the presence of the automatic washer Simone and her sisters had pooled their money to buy several years ago. “What happened, Monie? Start from the beginning and go slow.”
Simone took a deep breath and told her mother everything that had taken place from the night she had first met Kenya to the day Kenya had tossed her out of her condo. Apparently, for good.
“She needs time,” her mother said after she had finished telling the sad, sorry tale.
“I know, and I’m trying to give it to her, but it’s hard sitting around waiting for the phone to ring when there’s a chance it never will. It’s been almost three weeks since I’ve heard from her. What would you do if you were in her position? Forgive and forget or allow your anger to fester and grow?”
“I can only speak for myself so I won’t try to predict how someone else might react. All I know is the old saying is true. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”
Simone raised her bottle of ginger beer in a half-hearted toast. “Here’s hoping I won’t spend the rest of my life playing the fool.”
Her mother dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her apron.
“Why are you crying?” Simone asked, handing her a tissue.
“When your sisters were younger, they used to cry on my shoulder all the time about some boy who had dropped them for someone else or wouldn’t give them the time of day to begin with. When you came out to your father and me, I thought I would never be able to sit and talk with you like that. Like this.” Simone’s mother patted her hand. “I’m glad you were able to come to me. I might not understand all the things you do or some of the decisions you make, especially where your career is concerned, but I will always be here for you when you need me.”
Now it was Simone’s turn to cry. She had always felt like something of a disappointment to her parents. Both her sisters were married with kids and had solid careers. She, on the other hand, was perpetually single and still trying to figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up. Based on what her mother had just said, though, it didn’t matter. Because her mother was proud of her no matter what she chose to do for a living or with whom she chose to share her life. She buried her face in her hands and let the tears flow.
“Are those happy tears or sad ones?” her mother asked.
“Both.”
“If she loves you,” her mother said, “she’ll come back. And if she doesn’t, you’ll find someone who does.”
Simone dried her eyes on the sleeve of her T-shirt. “When did you get so smart?”
Her mother smiled wistfully. “This isn’t my first rodeo. It’s my third. And it’s time for you to get back on the horse. Come on.”
Simone’s mother cranked up the volume on the Rihanna song playing on the radio and pulled Simone to her feet. They danced around the kitchen with reckless abandon. Simone felt lighter with each step. A few minutes later, her sister stuck her head in the room to see what all the noise was about.
“Is this a private party,” Miranda asked, “or can anybody join?”
Simone beckoned her inside. Jayden and their father soon joined them. The room quickly filled with laughter and love. Just like the good old days. Simone felt good knowing that no matter how many lovers drifted in and out of her life, the people who had been there for in the beginning would still be there for her in the end.
Chapter Twelve
Kenya usually listened to NPR or an audiobook during her drive to work. Today she wasn’t in the mood for either. She switched off the recording of Terry McMillan’s latest offering and punched in one of her preset radio favorites just in time to hear the last few bars of a song she knew by heart.
“That was ‘Miami Dreams,’ the lead single from local sensation Reagan Carter’s forthcoming Tales from the City EP.”
Kenya felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to the disc jockey rave about Reagan’s song. The track was starting to receive more airplay each day. Kenya felt a personal stake in the song’s success. And in Simone’s. Simone had said the day they had spent at the Caribbean Festival had provided the inspiration for the song’s music.
Each time she heard the familiar strains, Kenya was engulfed by memories of that day. Exploring the colorful murals at Wynwood Walls. Walking through the park. Listening to a variety of bands play while the sights, sounds, and smells of various Caribbean islands floated in the humid Miami air.
That was also the day Simone had started to tell her about Mackenzie’s infidelity but had stopped short. When her lie by omission had inserted a wedge between them Kenya hadn’t been able—or willing—to remove. She felt as if she had been spinning her wheels for the past few months. Sharing her body with one woman, her soul with another, and being betrayed by both.
Her cell phone rang while she made the slow crawl through downtown traffic. She used the controls on her steering wheel to lower the volume on the radio and pick up the call.
“Have you heard the news?” Bridget asked breathlessly.
“What news?” Bridget’s pulse rate didn’t rise above seventy unless Avery was modeling a new pair of skimpy lingerie for her or one of the writers on her staff was on the verge of breaking a big story. Kenya prepared to hear about Bridget’s latest scoop.
“It looks like you kicked Mackenzie to the curb at just the right time.”
After the first few tear-filled days following the dissolution of her relationship with Mackenzie and her friendship with Simone, Kenya had tried not to dwell on either breakup. Bridget’s comment forced her to relive what she had almost been able to forget. “What happened?”
“She’s being sued for alienation of affection. Apparently, Fernanda has a husband back in Milan. When she asked him for a divorce so she could be with Mackenzie, he went ballistic. If she and Mackenzie can’t be faithful to anyone else, how are they supposed to be faithful to each other?”
“Perhaps they have an understanding,” Kenya said, thinking of the dubious example Mackenzie’s parents had set for her. “The lawsuit won’t go anywhere. Alienation of affection was abolished in Florida years ago. Mackenzie’s attorneys will convince Fernanda’s husband to sign a nondisclosure agreement, pay him to go away, and that will be that.”
“Not this time.”
Kenya tapped her brakes to avoid rear-ending the Lexus in front of her, the driver of which was too busy inhaling his fast food breakfast to pay attention to the prevailing traffic pattern. “What makes you so sure?”
“Fernanda’s husband has a title and even deeper pockets than Mackenzie and her father combined. He says he’ll keep fighting until he’s taken Mackenzie for every penny she’s worth. She’s faced scandals before and made it through them relatively unscathed, but both her brand and her wallet are bound to take substantial hits this time around.”
Kenya didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Hearing about Mackenzie’s misfortune gave her a small measure of satisfaction, but it also saddened her. How had she allowed herself to fall into bed with someone like that? How could she have believed Mackenzie wanted to make a life with her? Love meant nothing to Mackenzie. For her, relationships were nothing more than business deals. A negotiation Kenya never had a chance of winning.
“You’re better off without her,” Bridget said, almost as if reading her mi
nd.
Kenya blew out a sigh. “I know. It just sucks being back at square one again. I’m tired of starting over. If I have to rebuild my life one more time…” She allowed her voice to trail off, unable to air her innermost thoughts. Her innermost fears.
“Are you all right?” Bridget asked. “I thought you would be turning cartwheels after hearing Mackenzie is finally getting what she deserves.”
“If her empire crumbles around her, she’s savvy enough to build another one. I want her to know what it’s like to have a broken heart. That would be the ultimate revenge.”
“No one can break what she doesn’t have,” Bridget grumbled under her breath.
Kenya smiled at the protective instincts that made Bridget such a good friend. If Bridget and Avery decided to have children, Kenya pitied the kids’ prospective dates. Bridget was liable to greet them sitting on the front porch with a shotgun draped across her lap to make sure they didn’t get any ideas about taking advantage of her progeny.
“It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other,” Kenya said. She was surprised to discover she actually meant it. Whatever she once felt for Mackenzie was gone. When she thought of her now, all she felt was regret. Not for the fantasy she thought she had but the reality she had foolishly walked away from. “Mackenzie is out of my life now. Whatever happens in hers has nothing to do with me. But if the case does make it to court, I know which side I’ll be rooting for.”
“You and me both. Now hang up the phone and get back to work planning my bachelorette party.”
“You got it.”
Kenya ended the call and continued her morning commute. Her life had been vastly different these past few weeks. No drama, no stress, and no surprises. She went to work, she went home, and that was about it. She had brunch with Bridget and Celia every Saturday morning, she spent her Sunday afternoons preparing for the upcoming workweek, and she spent what little down time she had helping Bridget and Avery plan their upcoming wedding.