“Sounds like you took to dating like a duck to water,” Luisa sounded impressed. “But do you think you can handle two men? I mean you've always been in a relationship with one...”
“I think I can handle it, women have done it before.”
“Yes, but you're a one man woman. You know what? I have faith in you, have fun and be safe.”
“Yes, mami,” I smiled. “And thanks for the chat.”
“Anytime. I know you would do the same, but what are you going to do about the rest of your stuff at Malachi’s and how are you going to deal with Naomi?”
“I haven't really figured it out, getting my stuff that is. As for Naomi, it's done. Last weekend, I began to see her for who she really is, but this, this just took it home.”
“Well, it's for the best,” Luisa said. “It wasn't in our place to say anything, especially as you knew her longer than you knew any of us, but your relationship with her was not healthy.”
“I know that now.” Looking up at the clock hanging in the kitchen, I added, “It's late and I'm sure I kept you up way past your bedtime.”
“Yes, you did, but with good reason.”
“Well, I'll let you go to sleep,” I said. “Goodnight, Luisa.”
“Goodnight, Alexa.”
I turned off the light in the living room and went to bed. As I walked, I thought about Naomi and her part in my life or as I should say, my part in hers. Perhaps, this was a long time coming and I just refused to see it, to see her for who she truly was. Anyway, it's over, done and I was happier for it.
Chapter Sixteen
It wasn't completely done. As I approached my office, Jennifer looked up and said, “Good morning, Alexa. There is someone inside to see you.”
Opening the door, I expected to see Mr. Weiss, a colleague or by a long shot, Clark, instead, I found Naomi.
As I entered, she looked back from where she was standing looking out the large window that looked out at the city. “We need to talk,” she began, walking towards me.
“There's nothing to talk about,” I adopted a professional tone of voice as I walked around the desk and stowed away my bag. “Not now, not ever.”
“Don't be like that, Alexa,” Naomi all but whined.
“Like what exactly?” I crossed my arms. “Like a woman who saw her friend sleeping with her newly ex-fiancé?”
At first, Naomi met my glare, then she looked away, her eyes finding refuge in the sprawl of the city. “I didn't mean to hurt you,” she whispered.
“So what exactly did you mean to do?”
“I... I love him,” she glanced across at me. “I truly love him.”
Cocking my head to the side, I asked, “Then why did he ask me to marry him?”
She winced, it was the reaction I desired. I hurt and I wanted her to hurt too. “He's just confused and -”
“He's just fucking you, Naomi,” I didn't have the facts, but I had enough circumstantial evidence. “If he really wanted you, he would have broken up with me, not ask me to marry him. Malachi would have had the wife and the mistress and how long would you have played the role you were given?”
Her lips quivered and any other time, I would have felt sorry for her. I would have come to the rescue, embracing her and telling her that my claims were all lies, but I didn't and they weren't lies. The truth made a terrible weapon.
Shaking her head, Naomi said, “I'm sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” tears softened the edges of the room. “Sorry for sleeping with Malachi? Or sorry for being a horrible friend?” I walked around the desk and towards the door. Opening it, I said, “Whatever it is, you can keep your sorry. Now if you'll excuse me, this is my place of business and you don't have any business here.”
Naomi hesitated, then she snatched up her bag and walked towards me. Coming to a stop in front of me, “I am sorry and I hope we can get past this. You're my best friend.”
I scoffed, “You don't even know what it means to be a best friend. All we ever were were two people who knew each other for a long time. Goodbye, Naomi.”
She wanted to say more, but I left no room for what she needed to say, so she said, “Goodbye Alexa.”
Closing the door behind her, I leaned against it. I inhaled deeply, then exhaled. This was not the way I wanted to start my day, already I was emotionally drained. Memories filled my mind of a friendship that was more a mutual dependency, with one being more dependent than the other.
Still, Naomi had been a part of my life. I trusted her and she betrayed me.
There was a rap on the door, then it pushed me forward as someone pushed it open. Walking out of the way, I tried to school my face to not show my pain. A pain I tried to push aside.
“Is everything okay?” Jennifer's voice was tinged with concern.
Turning to face her, I attempted a smile, “Yes, what does the day look like?”
My secretary hesitated, then began to recount my appointments and the important communication I had to see to. I rounded my table and made notes on changes, but try as I might my mind found it hard to concentrate on work.
Chapter Seventeen
“A penny for your thoughts,” Clark picked up his tumbler of whiskey.
Although we were in the crowded bar at Hotel Claremont, we were able to create a bubble of privacy. As women tittered and men exclaimed, we spoke with the ease of old friends. And like old friends, we fell into a silence that was not awkward, more like a transition from one moment to another or an intermission between acts.
“You think my thoughts are that cheap?” I leaned forward, resting my chin on my palm.
“No,” he answered. “But it pays my way into a new conversation.”
“Touché,” I sat back and brought my glass of wine to my lips. “So where is the penny?”
“Bill me,” he smirked. “But on a serious note, you seem distracted.”
The statement was an understatement if I ever heard one. For the whole day, I had been distracted. It was worse than when I was faced with returning Malachi's engagement ring. Could this be karma?
“And there you go again,” Clark's voice cut through my musings.
“Not much in the way of company,” I placed the glass on the table. Looking up at my date, I asked, “Have you ever been betrayed?”
His gray eyes darkened in the dim light, “When you've been in business as long as I have, you come across a few people who don't have your best intentions in mind.”
“That's putting it nicely,” I looked across the room at nothing in particular.
“Well, I'm a nice guy, but if you asked me a few years ago, I would have said a whole lot more and with a few choice words.”
“What changed?” I met his gaze. The darkness was gone.
“I forgave them.”
“So simple,” I mused.
“So hard,” he countered. “I had a lot of thinking to do, I tried to see their side. Then I realized that all my anger wasn't going to change what happened.”
“How long did it take?”
“Before I forgave them or to forgive them?”
“Both,” I answered before sipping the last of my wine.
“Too long for the former, as long as I needed for the latter.”
“Not much of an answer.”
“It's different for everybody,” Clark responded. “From the way you seem to float away, it's too soon for you.”
I studied the man sitting across from me, the personification of ease. The top button of his shirt was unbuttoned and his sports jacket seemed to be an afterthought. “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”
“Are you calling me old?” he chuckled.
“No, wise and put together,” I smiled.
“In case you didn't know, Ms. Marsh, You are quite put together.” There was honesty in his words.
“All illusion,” I waved my hand as though conjuring a flower from thin air. “With the exception of work,” I said too quickly.
“Don't worry, I al
ready signed the contract. You're stuck with me.”
“I could do worse.”
At this Clark laughed, “What are you doing Saturday night?”
I was having too good a time to tell him that I was going out with another man, so I said, “I'm going out with a friend. Why do you ask, Mr. Sullivan?”
“Because,” he leaned forward. “I want to see you again. I want to see if this happens just once or it can be replicated.”
“What is this?” I leaned forward.
“This is spending an evening with an intelligent woman who doesn't have any ulterior motives.”
“Oh, but I do have my motives, Jones, Weiss & Fairchild wants your business,” I raised an eyebrow.
“You already had my business when I asked you out,” Clark pointed out. “I like your company, Alexa, and I want more.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I know a little diner close to here. No reservations necessary.”
“Starving,” Clark said, raising his hand to get the attention of the waitress of our section.
Clark Sullivan was the perfect distraction from my distractions. The more I got to know him, the more I liked him, seeing the man for who he really was. The man who shared a decadent slice of chocolate cake with me was more than a client, more than a successful businessman. No, I wasn't going to see him Saturday night, I was going to see him Sunday morning for brunch.
Chapter Eighteen
“Isn't there something you should be telling me?” Toya's voice rose up from the speaker of my cell phone.
“I don't know what you are talking about,” I lied as I fell into my sofa with a bowl of popcorn. I already had a movie cued up on Netflix when Toya's call interrupted my night in.
“Oh, don't play coy with me, missy,” Toya snipped. “Luisa told me about a one Mr. Clark Sullivan. That date was last night, wasn't it?”
“Well, if you know, why are you asking?”
“Simply for confirmation,” I heard tapping on her side.
“What are you up to, Toya?” I sat up.
“Oh, so now you want me to account to you but you won't do the same,” Toya answered. “But since you asked, not so nicely I may add, I'm making a spreadsheet to keep a record of your progress.”
“You're kidding me,” I scoffed.
I heard a click, “Check your inbox,” Toya replied a little too confidently.
I reached for my tablet that was on the coffee table and opened up my email app. Sure enough, there was an email from Toya. Opening it up, I found a link to a Google document. Feeling like Alice following a frantic rabbit, I clicked it and came face to face with a spreadsheet.
Clicking through sheets, columns and rows, I muttered, “Woman, you are crazy.”
“Correction, thorough,” Toya gloated.
“You want me to enter the dates and time of the dates?” I was on the spreadsheet labeled J. Cole. Already the first date information was filled in. “I'm not doing this,” I declared, closing the document. “Yes, I went along with the bet but I'm not reducing these men to data in a spreadsheet.”
“Then how are we going to track your progress, Ms. Conscientious?” I was sure if I was sitting across from her I would have seen her crossed arms and gotten Toya's signature deadpan stare.
“We make it simple,” I attached the keyboard to my tablet and with a few taps and scrolls, I created my own spreadsheet. With a swipe and a tap I sent it, “Check your inbox.”
“Oh God, how boring can you be, you might as well have written it on a sheet of paper, take a picture and sent it to me,” Toya crowed. “How analog. You are lucky I don't have the time to convince you of the merits of my spreadsheet.”
“Going out?”
“Yes.”
“Freckles?”
“She has a name, you know,” Toya pointed out. “It's Meredith.”
“And what number date is this?” I loved making Toya squirm and by her reserved and defensive answers, I was getting under her skin.
“What's with the twenty questions?”
“Uh, uh, if you can be all up in my business, I should get a little info on yours,” I came back.
“Fine,” she grumbled and mumbled something.
“I didn't catch that,” I said.
“Number three,” Toya enunciated.
“Just two more and this might be serious,” I jeered her.
“Oh hush up,” Toya returned. “I've got to go and get ready.”
“Have fun,” I cheered. “And my spreadsheet stands.”
“We'll see and I will.”
Tossing the phone beside me, I shook my head. Toya could be overbearing at times but she's always been there for me, be it to have a shoulder to cry on or to help me face an uncomfortable truth.
I was happy for her. It's been a while since she had made it to date three with anyone. Freckles... Meredith must be someone special.
Chapter Nineteen
I had heard of this place, read about it in the local magazines and watched a review for it on one of the segments of the nightly news, but this was my first time entering one of the city's most luxurious restaurants. Stepping in, I was drawn to the decor and the artwork on the walls.
“Good evening,” a woman who could pass for a supermodel greeted me from a podium. “Party of one?”
“No,” I stood a little taller. “I'm dining with Mr. Julian Cole.”
“Ah, yes,” she didn't even look at her list. “He's presently at the bar, you can join him there and I will notify you when your table is ready.”
With a nod, I followed the hostess' directions to the bar. Whoever decorated it paid keen attention to the details. Noma was a celebration of modern design with old world craftsmanship. I found Julian leaning on the bar, nursing a drink. When he saw me approaching, he stood up, a wide smile growing on his face.
“I was afraid it was a dream,” he said leaning forward and brushing his cheek against mine.
“A dream?” I looked up at him.
“Yeah, that those two days were a figment of my imagination,” he answered.
“Well, I assure you, I am very much real,” I caught the eye of the bartender and ordered a glass of white wine.
“I can see that,” Julian took a sip of his drink, his eyes twinkling above the rim of his glass.
This is going to be interesting, I thought, taking a sip of my wine.
“I saw Naomi earlier, or I thought I saw Naomi,” his brows furrowed. “I even waved at her but it was as though she didn't see me.”
“That's more on me than on you,” I said with a sigh. “We had a falling out.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Julian said. “But I thought you two were from back in the day.”
“Yes, but there are some things that can interfere with that,” I glanced around the bar. “I found her in bed with my ex... fiancé.”
“Oh.”
“Right,” I returned my gaze to Julian. “Let’s just say that is in the past and I'm looking forward to a brighter future.”
“Am I a part of that future?” his voice dipped.
“Maybe,” I smiled, then I saw the hostess coming towards us. “Looks like our table is ready.”
Looking up, Julian acknowledged the supermodel and drank the rest of his drink. After I did the same, he ushered me in front of him and we followed the hostess to our table.
“Your waitress will be with you shortly,” she placed menus in front of us. “Would you like to have another of what you were drinking or would you like something different?”
“I'll have the same,” I said, opening the menu.
“Same,” Julian said at the same time.
“So what are you having?” I asked, my eyes browsing the dishes.
“I'm not sure, this is my first time here,” he admitted.
Looking up, I watched as he looked through the menu. “Really?”
He looked up, a whisper of a smile on his lips. Leaning forward he asked, “Can you keep a secret?”
&
nbsp; I leaned forward, “Maybe.”
“There is this beautiful woman I met over the weekend that I'm trying to impress and I made a reservation at this very same restaurant.”
“Is that so?” I smiled. “Beautiful is she?”
Julian sat back and nodded his head.
“Tell me something,” I said, closing the menu. “If you wanted to show this woman a good time, not impress her, where would you take her?”
Mischief danced in his eyes and a smirk that reminded me of the man who almost tickled me to death less than a week ago.
Leaning forward even more, I took the menu from Julian's hands and closed it. “Take me there. Don't impress me, you don't have to. Just show me a good time.”
Before Julian could answer, our waitress appeared at our table. “Good evening, welcome to Noma, our specials for tonight are Pan seared Salmon, Steak Au Poivre and Cornish Hen in a mushroom sauce. What would you like to order.”
As she spoke, Julian looked at me, sizing up what I had just said. When the waitress finished her spiel, his head rolled in her direction and with a straight face, Julian said, “Yes, we would like the bill.
The look on the woman's face was priceless. “But you haven't even ordered,” she said, at last.
“We're sorry,” I looked up at her. “An emergency came up. I believe the bartender would have what we ordered.”
Seeing Julian pull out his card there was no doubt that we were not staying. She walked towards the bar and I collected my purse.
“How much do you think the drinks would come up to?” I asked.
“Not more than fifty,” Julian shrugged. Seeing me pull out a hundred, he shook his head, “No, this is on me.”
Looking up at the waitress bearing the bill folder, I reached for it and slipped the hundred dollar bill in without looking at the bill. As I handed the folder back to the waitress, I got to my feet, “I'll take care of this and later is on you.”
Turning to the waitress, I said, “Sorry.” Without waiting for a response from either of them, I walked towards the restaurant's exit.
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