by J. Nichole
He lifts his hand up and says, “Whoa. Are you saying because I didn’t tell you that I own my company you don’t trust me?”
I nod my head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We’ve been dating for months now, and if you withheld that, is there more that I don’t know about?”
“I can see how this has upset you. This should be a happy weekend for you.” He looks out the window before looking at me and saying, “I should get out of here and let you enjoy the rest of it.”
“Okay.” He opens the door and walks over opening mine. We walk side-by-side, not touching or speaking till we get inside the room.
He grabs his suitcase and looks back at me from the door, “If you’re up for it call me when you get back to Houston.” With the car keys in his hand he places them on the counter. “You can drive the car. I’ll take a Moovn to the airport.”
Laying back on the bed the tears stream down my face. Why am I like this? If I wanted him to stay, I should have said it. Why am I even this angry? Sitting up, I search for my phone.
“Monica,” I say before she even can speak. “Ugh.”
“Jennifer, girl, what the hell?” I can hear her sighing. “Last time I saw you, you were being whisked away by Aiden. Why are you calling me when you should be laid up with his ass on top of you?” Being busy and without a man has turned Monica into a sexual beast.
“He just left. On his way back to Texas.” I don’t hear anything. “Monica.” Moving the phone from my ear I see the call has ended. I try redialing her but she sends my call to voicemail.
My phone rings, Monica calling back. “Dammit. In my hurry to get to you I didn’t ask what room number you’re in.” I can hear her panting into the phone. I tell her my room number then get up to answer the door. The hotel was kind enough to put all of our rooms on the same floor.
“Jennifer,” Monica says as soon as I open the door. “What happened?” She leans against the wall with her hand on her hip. “Tell me he had some sort of family emergency.” She looks at me then shakes her head. “No, I don’t want his family to have an emergency. Tell me he had a work emergency.”
And with that my face sours and I roll my eyes as I lead her to the bed. I collapse and start giving her all the details, back from when we met, up until him just leaving.
“Wow.” She collapses beside me. “Your first mistake was listening to Nicole. I’m just going to say it.” She looks at me smiling. “Second mistake is assuming he should just be open about his whole life.”
I interrupt her, “Wait, that’s too much to ask?”
“No it isn’t, but assuming is too much to ask. That’s how relationships get messed up in the first place. We assume the other person will respond how we respond, instead of just laying it all out on the table.”
Conceding to her points, I pound my fist into the bed and say, “But still, I just don’t trust him.”
“Do you love him?” Do I love Aiden? We’ve been together for months, and we haven’t exchanged the words, yet. Up until now, I have felt more for him than I felt for Derrick. Even in the beginning when it was the lust and excitement from being in a new relationship. I never felt the way I feel for Aiden towards Derrick.
“Love?” I repeat. More to myself than to Monica. If I loved him, would this be such a big deal? Or, because I love him it’s such a big deal. I feel betrayed. “Maybe I do kinda sorta love him.”
“So he betrayed your trust, and I know how huge that is with you, but do you think you can move past it?” As I sit contemplating my feelings Monica says, “I’d love to sit here and help you think this through but I know this is something you have to work out on your own. I can’t help you fight this battle.” She sits up in the bed. “If you need me I’m here.” She stands to her feet. “Well, down the hall.” She laughs. “Actually, in the bar. I saw this fine ass man down there when we came into the hotel.”
I stand up and give her a hug. I’m reminded how nice it was to have my girls a shout away when I needed them, and even when I didn’t. “Be safe, youngin’.” She winks and lets herself out of the room.
Chapter Seventeen
With my head down and headphones on I review the reports for the weekly meeting. I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn to the side and see Bri mouthing words. The headphones have allowed me to focus on the never-ending work we’ve had since I’ve been back in the office, and have helped to keep many of my officemates away from me. Oh, headphones? I won’t disturb you.
But Bri, she couldn’t care less about my headphones. I remove them and look at her. “Yes,” I say.
“Grab your wallet, let’s go.” I’ve been avoiding taking lunch breaks. My appetite has been minimal, and I just haven’t felt like socializing. “For real, Jennifer, let’s go.” I step away from my desk and grab my wallet and phone.
Bri keeps the conversation light as we navigate through the office and are accompanied by a few colleagues in the elevator. As soon as we hit the open air she says, “What happened at the wedding?”
“Laila and Chris were married, had a beautiful reception.” I reach for my phone to show her pictures. “Here.” I hand her the phone with Laila and Chris after they’ve said, ‘I do.’ “Keep scrolling, there are tons of pictures.”
She scrolls through the pictures making small comments about the decorations, Laila’s dress, the food, but then she looks at me and says, “Nice try. These pictures look like everything happened how you’d expect. Why did you come back like Laila was stood up at the altar, or better yet, that you were dumped in Tennessee?” I continue walking, not responding to her question. “Oh my goodness. You were dumped in Tennessee,” she proclaims.
“To be dumped you have to be in a relationship. So, no, I wasn’t dumped.” I roll my eyes. “But I just found out some things about Aiden that I didn’t know before and we aren’t talking anymore.”
“And now he’s in jail.” She opens the door to a café and we both step inside.
“What?” I ask before she makes her way to the counter.
“Whatever you found out, that made you stop talking to him, had to be bad enough to put him in jail.” She looks at me matter-of-factly before ordering her food from the counter. I order a deli cut sandwich, although I barely have an appetite.
“No.” I roll my eyes. I’m hesitant to tell her everything because, yes, I admit it seems foolish. After all, who wouldn’t want to have a rich boyfriend? “I didn’t realize he owns the company that created DateNight.”
Her mouth opens before she says, “And he hijacked your profile?”
“Bri, for real,” I blurt out. “No, he didn’t hijack my profile. He didn’t tell me. Laila told me when she saw him in Tennessee.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Help me here. I don’t see what the issue is.”
“The issue is trust. Trust, Bri.” Bri and I became quick friends when we started working together. Outside of the office we kick it on the weekend, sometimes. But we haven’t spent much time exchanging stories from our past. She has no idea what happened to me in high school, although it shouldn’t matter; trust in your partner should be a universal desire. “Do you not need to trust the person you’re dating?”
She takes a sip of her soda and looks up. “Of course. I’m just trying to imagine myself in your situation.” Her eyes turn to mine. “And I can’t. I wish I had some advice I could give to you.” She pats my back and says, “Because you are walking around like you lost your best friend.”
Lost my best friend, may be a good way to describe it. Aiden and I were intense for months. We talked to each other every day, and most days we saw each other. “I don’t need any advice. I just need time to get over it. Time to move on.”
Bri hands me my deli sandwich and we walk back to the office. “You know,” Bri says under her breath, “I commend you.” I look at her as the elevator doors open. “You could have geeked out about him being the owner of a company, rich I’d imagine, and ignored the fact that he didn’t tell you.” S
he shakes her head. “But nope, you stood your ground. If trust is important to you, you can’t waver on that.” I nod my head as we separate each of us going to our own cubicles.
My days in the office seem to drag even though I have non-stop work. It could be because the hours are longer. This acquisition work is starting to get old. Instead of having a break before dance class I change at work then go straight to the studio. Some of the girls have asked for more time to run through the routine and I want their last routine in the studio to be on point, so I’ve stayed. Then wash, rinse, repeat, and by the weekend I’m exhausted.
A text message notification lights up my phone on my way out of the office.
Aiden: Can we talk?
He’s been texting every day since the last time we saw each other. Like every other day, I delete the text and make my way to my car. With the windows down and Beyoncé on my radio, I drive across town to the dance studio.
Before the girls invade the studio I turn on the mix and dance through the choreography. Popping my ass, kicking my legs, and leaping across the floor, each move is in rhythm with the beat. Just as the mix comes to an end, I hear the girls say, “Go, Ms. Kelly,” and with the crowd watching I hit a cartwheel across the floor and the girls erupt in applause.
After bowing I tell them, “Now time for you all to get out here and rock it like that.” I look at each of them. “On the first try.” They nod their heads and stand in their positions. When they are all in position I start the music and walk around, watching each of them pop their ass, kick their legs, and leap across the floor. The end of the choreography doesn’t end in the cartwheel that I hit, but instead a couple of the girls end in a back bend and the others in a split.
I applaud them but tell them where they have to tighten up. As they run through it again, I smile, knowing when it’s time for them to take the stage they’ll be able to nail the performance. The few things I’ve pinged them for won’t be noticeable to the audience, but if they can get it right it will improve the show. They run it through till class is over, and as always I send them home exhausted.
Instead of rushing home, I stop by the front office where Pam is sitting at her desk with a stack of folders. “Ms. Pam, how are you doing?”
Smiling as she holds the folder in her hand she says, “Oh honey, I can’t complain.” Her smile fades and she scoots away from the desk. “Time for this old place to close down is coming close though.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I look around her office. I haven’t spent much time in this office, but I’ve been in all of the dance rooms of the studio on more occasions than I can begin to count. “The girls are sad to leave here.” I wag my head. “And I feel the same, but I know you two are ready to retire, and totally deserve it.” Her hair, once blond now silver, is pulled into a bun reminiscent of her days as a ballet dancer.
“We are, dear, ready to retire. And I hope they’ll understand.” She sighs. I’m sure her decision to leave is as hard for her as it is for us to watch them leave.
“Did you all consider selling?” My heart sinks as I see her face become somber.
“We tried.” She pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to me. “But as you can see we had high hopes for new owners.”
Looking at the paper of requirements, outside of having the money to make the purchase, they also want the new owners to have dance experience. “Not many dancers have the money to buy I assume.”
She shakes her head. “Unfortunately not.” I ask her about their retirement plans and the smile returns to her face and I can’t be upset that they are leaving us behind.
She tells me about an epic road trip that will begin the day after the final recital. “That sounds amazing, Ms. Pam.” She stands to give me a hug. “I’ll catch you later.” I walk out of her office feeling torn, torn between wanting to be happy for them and wanting this place to stay open for the girls, for me.
With my headphones in my ears, I rock with Cardi B while I work through the reports for the day. My phone dings with a text, and when I see Erica’s name on the notification I open the message.
Erica: Chick, it’s time for you to get out of this funk
Erica: Come with me to the lounge on Friday
Because I haven’t been out in a while I eagerly respond with a yes. If nothing else, Erica will entertain me with her antics.
“Ugh, Jennifer,” I hear Bri whisper shout over the cubicle. “Did you check your email?”
I save and close my report, then open my email. The first email I see is from our manager. “Just opened it.” Bri comes beside me as I read through the email announcing me as the person to move to Dallas. “What?” Last week she asked me if I would consider relocating and at the time I didn’t think much about it but now reading that I’m the one who is moving, I begin to second guess my decision. Do I really want to move to Dallas?
“Girl, you’re leaving me?” Bri whines over my shoulder. “What am I going to do around here without you?”
“I didn’t think she was really going to pick me.” I guess being unattached makes me an easy choice. “Guess, I’m moving to Dallas,” I whisper. When we discussed the move she did tell me it wouldn’t be till the end of spring, and I told her I’d have to be here till after the recital at the least.
Sure, I moved to Tallahassee for college, but that was with a couple of suitcases. Planning a move with all my newly acquired furniture and packing up my apartment will be different.
“I’m bummed,” Bri proclaims before walking back to her desk. I should get details from Karen about the move. One thing I didn’t consider when she asked was if I’d get a raise, if they’d pay for me to relocate. Come to think of it, I didn’t have any questions for her. Shit.
Grabbing a notepad, I walk to Karen’s office and tap on the door. “Hey, Karen,” I say when she looks up from her computer. “Have a few minutes?”
She nods her head and waves her hand for me to come into her office. “I’m sure you are here to talk about the move to Dallas, right?” I nod my head. “HR should have an official package to you soon.” She looks at her computer screen. “Did you have specific questions about the work?”
“Actually”—I sit back in the chair with my legs crossed—“I have tons of questions. I didn’t think you were going to select me, and I realize I didn’t put much thought into this move.”
Her eyes grow wide and she says, “You don’t want to move?” She scrunches her nose.
“Oh, I don’t mind moving. I just didn’t ask you any questions.” And by any I mean she asked me about the move and I said I’d be interested. That was the end of our conversation. “Like, will I still be doing the same work as I’m doing here? Will I continue to manage reports for all locations? Am I managing the team in Dallas?” Of course I want to know if I’m getting more money too, and if this move actually benefits my career, but I decide to keep it light for now.
Karen clasps her hands in front of her. “I did do a horrible job presenting this position to you.” She grabs her phone and scrolls through it before saying, “I just checked my calendar and I have time to do lunch. If you are up for it, how about we go out so we can discuss this in better detail.” She looks back at her phone, tapping the screen. “And by then HR would have sent you the details of the official offer.”
Offer? Like I get to accept or decline this? “Sounds like a plan, what time?” We confirm the time to meet for lunch and I walk out of her office with no more answers than I went for, but feeling much better about the situation.
When an email alert pops up on my screen I open it without hesitation. My official Dallas offer letter. Without reading the cushy wording I scan the letter for what matters—salary and relocation. When I find the salary is significantly higher, a moving bonus, and a relocation package that would pay for the move, I damn near scream. With my hand over my mouth, I gasp instead. But I’ll wait till my conversation with Karen before deciding if this move makes sense. Who am I kidding? Dallas isn’t too far from
Houston, and with more money, I’m pretty sure I’ll be accepting this offer.
Chapter Eighteen
“Three hours, Mom.” I’ve been going back and forth with my mom since I told them I accepted the job in Dallas.
“I barely see you when you are across town, baby girl. If I couldn’t get you to drive thirty minutes how can I believe you’ll get in the car and drive three hours?” I hear my dad fussing in the background. “And your father isn’t too excited about this move either.”
“It’s not like y’all can’t hop in the car and come visit me too.” My mom continues on in my ear while I order a tea. After dance class last night, I lay awake thinking of all the details of my move. Now this morning I need a pick me up. I had been avoiding Allegro, or better yet a chance run-in with Aiden. But if I’m going to the lounge after work tonight, this is going to be my first of many cups of tea. “Ask Dad if he’s going to come help me pack.” I laugh when I hear my dad complaining about his bad back. “So that’s a no, I take it?”
Walking out of the door of Allegro I hear the barista say Aiden’s name. I look behind me before stepping out the door. “Did I just hear Aiden’s name?” My mom has supersonic ears, especially when she needs them to be nosey.
“I didn’t hear it,” I lie, knowing good and well my mom can call me on my lies, even over the phone.
“Oh, guess it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re moving to Dallas. No point in rekindling that flame,” she says. I roll my eyes as I try to climb into my car with the phone to my ear and the teacup in my hand.
“You’re right Mom. I’m going to call y’all tomorrow. I’m headed into the office now.” I rush off the phone with my mom so I can get situated in the car.