If I Were Your Woman

by Donna Hill

  There, 1608. She stood in front of the door. She looked left, then right, inhaled deeply, then knocked on the door. The door was opened almost immediately.

  Michael took up the doorway. When she saw the light sparking in his eyes and the welcoming smile widening the mouth that she knew so well, she knew in an instant that coming here was the right thing to do.

  “Come in. You look beautiful as always.”

  Her cheeks heated. She walked past him and into his suite.

  The suite was something right off a late-night soap. White was the centerpiece color from the thick wool carpet to the silk drapes that adorned floor-to-ceiling windows to the sectional couch that could easily seat ten with room to spare. A white-lacquered bar took up one side of the room, but it was the black marble fireplace set against the winter white walls that was the focal point. A roaring fire blazed behind the grate.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Water would be fine,” she said, her throat suddenly dry. She walked over to the couch and sat down stiffly on its edge, holding her purse in a death grip in her lap as if she expected it to be ripped from her hands. She looked around knowing. This was how he lived every day. Expensive hotels, all his needs met, travel, money, a home in Miami, and one he was having built on the island of Antigua. She could have it all, too. Any worries that she might have had about her financial future in her later years would be nonexistent.

  Michael strolled over to her and extended the crystal glass. “I won’t bite. You can relax.”

  She glanced up and forced a smile. She took the glass. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Michael started to sit next to her but changed his mind and moved farther away. He didn’t want to crowd her and he wanted to be able to look into her eyes while they talked.

  “How long can you stay?” he began.

  She cleared her throat. “Not long. I have to get back to work.”

  “Oh.” His tone reflected his disappointment. “I was hoping that we could spend the afternoon together. But I’m just happy you’re here.” He clasped his large hands together and leaned forward slightly. “These months that we’ve been apart have been harder on me than I imagined.” He chuckled lightly. “Contrary to popular opinion, us jocks have feelings too.” He stole a glance at her. “But the time apart also gave me time to think, think about why it didn’t work—for you.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “I realize now that I was on a full-court press from the beginning. You were the winning basket and I was going to make it no matter what. And I was going to get past all your best defenses. I don’t think I ever gave you a chance to show me your skills on the court.” He ducked his head for a moment. “Sorry for all the NBA lingo, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to tell you.

  “I’m willing to back up, give you some space so that you can be you. If you want to work, work. If you don’t want to move from New York?” He shrugged. “No problem. What I’m saying is I’m willing to compromise. I’m willing to listen to the coach.” He ran his tongue across his lips.

  If only they would have had this conversation months ago, if only…“Mike…I can’t begin to tell you how much you have meant and mean to me. You changed my life in so many ways. I’d been sleepwalking for years content to be alone except for my friends, and then you burst into my life and I came face-to-face with the sun.” She studied her clenched hands. “I love you and so many things about you. I’ve been in lust with you.” She smiled shyly, then looked directly at him. “But I’m not in love with you.” She watched his hopeful expression fall and felt her heart breaking. If she never knew before the depths of his feelings for her she understood them now. “I never was. I was captivated, mesmerized, swept away by the very notion of you and you wanting me. But that’s not enough to build a relationship on.” She swallowed over the knot building in her throat. She opened her purse and took out the velvet box. She set it down on the table. “I should have given this back to you a long time ago. It’s a beautiful token of who we were to each other. But we both have to move on, and holding on to tokens of the past won’t let us do that.”

  He smile was sad. “That’s why I’ll always love you and you’ll always have a place in my heart because you never held back. You’ve been trying to tell me this for a long time. I wasn’t listening.” He stood. “But I am now.” He reached out his hand.

  Barbara stood up and took his hand. He gently pulled her toward him and held her tenderly against his chest. “He’s a lucky man. And I’m man enough to step aside for good. All I want is for you to be happy.”

  She glanced up at him. “I am.”

  He nodded and kissed her forehead, then let her go. “Can I call you a car service?”

  “No, I drove.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “You drove?”

  “Yeah, I’m working on confronting the things that challenge me.”

  He walked her to the door. “Listen, I’m a man of my word. I’ll make sure that Chauncey gets season tickets to the Garden.” He held up his hand when it looked as though she was going to object. I’ll mail them.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  He opened the door. “Maybe you’ll even come one of these days. It would be great to look out and see you in the stands.”

  She pressed her finger to his chest. “I just might.” She drew in a breath. “Goodbye, Michael.”

  “Goodbye.”

  She turned and slowly walked down the hallway, then picked up her pace. With each step her spirit grew lighter, her heart and conscience clearer. She pressed the bell for the elevator. She and Michael had done the goodbyes before they’d said all the words. But because she had not been totally clear in her heart and mind, she’d inadvertently left the door ajar. The elevator bell tinged. She stepped on. The door closed—finally.

  Elizabeth sat behind the check-in desk going over the supply list. But her mind wasn’t on what she was doing.

  She and Ron had talked long into the night. He told her all about Ali and his connection to Stephanie. Ron told her that he was at a crossroads as to what to do. Ali had asked him not to say anything. He didn’t feel it was right to keep something that important away from Stephanie, but didn’t know the best way to approach her.

  “I know I broke a promise,” he’d said as they lay in bed together. “But there’s no one else I would entrust this to. I value your judgment.”

  Elizabeth thought about that now. He and Matt were like night and day. She couldn’t remember a time in their twenty-plus-year marriage that Matt had ever “valued her judgment” about anything more serious than the grocery list. She smiled to herself. So this is what it really felt like to be loved and valued.

  She checked the time on the computer. Stephanie had called earlier and said that she would come in at three and take over the front. It was almost that now.

  Elizabeth busied herself with filing and counting the minutes. A little after three, Stephanie breezed in looking absolutely fabulous. She was always stylish in her appearance, but today without a doubt she looked like she was ready for a photo shoot.

  Her champagne-colored hair was feathered around her face with the top in that spiked look but classy. Her honey-toned skin was flawlessly made up. She wore thigh-high black leather boots over black leggings. And from beneath her waist-length fox jacket bloomed a winter white chenille sweater with a collar that rose almost up to her cheeks. Every male she passed turned his head in her direction.

  “Well, where are you going or coming from?” Elizabeth asked, looking her over in admiration.

  She dramatically swept off her dark glasses, then cracked up laughing. “Like that move, huh? I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  “You’re in a good mood. Something happen?”

  “Yes, I’m in love! Can you believe it? Me, Stephanie Moore, party girl, can’t-tie-me-down extraordinaire.”

  “Whoa, and when did you get this revelation?”

  “Last night. Maybe even before then bu
t I just wasn’t willing to admit it, not even to myself.”

  “Anyone I know?” Elizabeth teased.

  Stephanie leaned on the counter. “As a matter of fact, he’s good-looking, built, talented, fun, sexy—”

  “Hey, watch it. That sounds like my man,” she said with an exaggerated roll and pop of her neck.

  Stephanie high-fived her. “I hear that.”

  “For real, though, girl, I’m happy for you. You deserve it. You’ve been through it, and Tony is a damned good guy. At least from where I’m standing.”

  “Yes, he is. So…everything cool around here? You ready to go on your break? I can actually stay the rest of the evening if you have things to do.”

  Stephanie was in such a good mood. Elizabeth didn’t want to be the one to break her bubble, but she honestly believed that holding on to what she knew only delayed the inevitable. And she also knew how much Stephanie needed answers.

  “Actually, I was going to let one of the part-timers cover the front. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Oh.” Her exuberant expression dwindled by degrees. “Is something wrong? Your whole aura changed.”

  “No, nothing like that but I have some news that I want to share with you. Let’s go downstairs.”

  When they got to the office, Elizabeth closed the door. Stephanie spun around to face her. “What the hell is it? You’re scaring me.”

  “Just sit down for a minute, okay?”

  Reluctantly, Stephanie sat down. “Well?”

  “We all know how you feel about growing up without your father and not knowing why he left….”

  Stephanie’s eyes widened.

  “Ron’s friend Ali…knows all about it. He doesn’t know how to tell you. But I think you need to talk to him.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying Ali has the answers you’ve been looking for.”

  Ali, the man who’d rescued her, the one she’d met at the restaurant, the one who seemed so oddly familiar? She didn’t know what to think. What could he know?

  Stephanie finally focused on Elizabeth. “Um, Ron didn’t tell you anything else?”

  “No.” She knew she was lying to her friend. Ron told her everything. But she wanted Stephanie to hear it all firsthand from Ali.

  “I don’t even know how to get in touch with him. I—” Her mind was so jumbled that she’d almost forgotten that she had his number. “I’m going to call him,” she said, her voice suddenly paper thin. She kept nodding to herself as she fumbled around in her bag for her Axim as if to reconfirm what she was doing and if it was the right thing.

  After several false starts she located it, turned it on, and scrolled for his number. She glanced up at Elizabeth who gave her a smile of encouragement and eased out the door.

  Stephanie stared at the number for a few moments, thinking, debating with herself. Was Ali her father? Was that the reason he seemed so familiar to her? When she was growing up, her mother never kept pictures of her father and she only had a vague image of him when she was three or four years old. The only other person who would even have an inkling of what he looked like would be Samantha. There were no aunts or uncles, no grandmas or grandpas. For the most part she and Sam were orphans, having had to look out for themselves since their early teens when their mother simply stopped coming home.

  She swallowed down the past, looked at the number, and punched it into her cell phone. Whatever he had to tell her would be more than she’d ever known. That much she was sure of.

  “Hello?”

  She froze. There was a lot of noise in the background, banging and yelling.

  “Hello?”

  “Um, this is Stephanie.”

  “How are you? I can barely hear you. I’m on a construction site.”

  “I understand. I was hoping we could talk…about my dad.”

  Chapter 19

  Barbara finished up for the day at the hospital and prepared to go home. Her parting conversation earlier with Michael still rested with her. She had to admit it was certainly ego boosting to have a young man in love with you, especially at her age. But she knew deep in her heart that she needed more and needed to give more and that would never happen with Michael.

  She had her evening all planned. Hopefully it wasn’t too late to work things out with Wil, and if it was she would simply deal with it.

  By the time she reached her apartment is was a bit after six. She had two hours to take her shower, get dressed, and make it on time.

  She took her time with her bath and then soothed her frazzled nerves with aromatherapy body lotion. She painstakingly applied her makeup and was once again delighted that she’d cut her hair into such a manageable, not to mention sexy, do. She’d chosen her outfit with care. She didn’t want to be too out there, but she still wanted to be noticed.

  She checked the bedside clock. She had forty-five minutes to get there. But she wasn’t going to chance her driving, so she called a taxi service. Her heart was in her throat for the entire trip and she silently prayed that her little plan didn’t backfire.

  Barbara arrived with time to spare. She was shown to her reserved table and waited. Every few minutes she checked her watch and was about ready to bust from the three glasses of water and the basket of bread she’d consumed.

  She’d been there for more than a half hour and was beginning to think she should just leave, especially if the waitress came back one more time and asked what she’d like to order.

  Despondent, she picked up her purse and had collected her coat from the back of her chair when she glimpsed movement coming in her direction. Her heart stood still when their gazes connected. Please don’t let him walk out.

  Wil stopped short when he spotted her and turned over his shoulder to scowl at his son, who was beaming with delight. He pushed his father forward until they stood in front of Barbara.

  “Hi, Ms. Barbara, sorry we’re late. Trying to get Dad out of the house on a weeknight is murder.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “What’s this all about?” Wil grumbled.

  “Why don’t you sit down, Dad, and find out? Look, I gotta go. I have homework. Enjoy yourselves.”

  Wil looked totally flustered. He turned to Barbara. “You two set me up.”

  “Something like that,” Barbara said. “Please sit down.”

  Wil huffed but finally sat. He folded his arms on the table. “Why am I here?”

  She looked him right in the eyes. “So that I can tell you that the only man I want in my life is you. Nothing and no one can come between that. Not all the money, the fancy cars, hotels, trips…none of that. What makes me happy is you. I waited the better part of my adult life to find happiness. I lost you once. I don’t plan to do it again.”

  Wil twisted his lips. “You look real good,” he offered.

  She grinned. “Is that right?”

  “Pretty thing like you needs a real man to take care of her, love her, make her feel that she’s the most important thing in his life and that if he lost her, he’d lose a part of his soul.”

  Barbara’s eyes filled and before she could stop them, tears spilled over her lashes.

  “I hope those are tears of happiness,” he said, reaching across the table for her hand. “Because the last thing I ever want to do is cause you pain.”

  “They are,” she said through her choked sob. “The happiest tears I’ve ever shed.”

  “Are you two ready to order now?”

  Wil looked up at the young girl, then across at Barbara. “No, we’re going to go home.”

  She should have called Tony so that he could be there with her. This was definitely not the greatest part of town. She paced in front of the building to both keep warm and keep her mind from running in a million directions at once. He said he’d meet her here by eight o’clock. It was almost that now. She hugged her arms to her body and stomped her feet.

  A yellow cab pulled up. Moments later Ali stepped out.
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  “Hope you weren’t waiting too long. You know how hard it is for a black man to get a cab in New York.”

  “No problem,” she said, her nerves jumping up and down.

  “Let’s get you out of this cold.” He trotted up the stairs and pushed open the rickety front door that had no lock, nor the second door. “It’s not much but it’s warm. Once you see it, you’ll know why I want to get a place soon. I hope you’re in good shape. The elevator is out and I’m on the fifth floor.”

  Stephanie was too nervous to respond, she just followed him up the musty-smelling stairs. Finally they reached his door. She looked around. The hallway was a color that she couldn’t quite make out. It might have been green at one point. She heard yelling coming from one end of the hallway and inhaled the smell of food cooked over years that had seeped into every crevice of the building.

  He stuck his key in the lock, jiggled it a few times before it would give way, then opened the door and switched on the light.

  Stephanie walked in cautiously behind him. It was better than she’d envisioned. It was clean and she could tell that he tried his best to spruce the room up with a few plants and a bright bedspread on the single bed.

  He hurried across the room and pulled out a folding chair that was stacked against the wall. He opened it for her, then took one for himself.

  “Make yourself as comfortable as possible. Can I fix you some tea to take the chill off?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  He slowly sat down opposite her. “To be truthful I never thought I’d see you again. Last time I saw you and your sister ya’ll were about four years old.”

  “What do you mean?” Her heart thudded wildly. “Saw us where?”

  “With your mama and your daddy. I was your dad’s best friend. We grew up together in Atlanta. Franklin and Melvin, thick as thieves.”

  “You knew my father?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Where is he, what happened to him?”

  “Your mother and father married right out of high school. Your dad loved your mother like nobody’s business. And before you knew it, your mama popped out not one but two beautiful twin girls.” He smiled at the memory and shook his head. “Your father was so proud and his chest was sticking out so far he could barely button his shirts.”