I was going to lose the bet.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Alexa,” It was Clark's’ voice.
“Alexa,” Julian called out to me.
I saw neither man in the dim light, but they called out to me, one then the other. Their voices rising and rising until I questioned if it was real or in my head, then there was silence.
To my right, Clark stepped out of the gloom. He never met my gaze, then he turned as though to return to where he came from. I stepped forward, calling out for him to stop but I was mute.
“Alexa!” Julian’s voice stopped me and I spun around. He met my gaze, his head held high and he looked down at me. I began to walk towards him but he held up his hand.
“Alexa?” a third voice drew my attention. It was a familiar voice and it pulled me from the world in my head.
My eyes blinked once then twice, my world was sideways as morning light filtered through the blinds. I bolted upright, and looked around, recognizing my office, I relaxed.
“Alexa?” Jennifer stood on the other side of the desk. “Tell me you didn’t work through the night.” Sometimes my secretary acted like my mother.
“No,” I croaked the word. “Clearly at some point, I fell asleep,” I plucked a paper clip from my face.
“Any progress?” Jennifer began to clear up my desk.
I sighed and got to my feet. Picking up papers and shoving them in folders, “I found something but I’m going to have to go over it with Mr. Weiss before I present it to the client.”
“How come?” Jennifer looked across at me.
“Because Mr. Masterson isn’t going to like it,” Standing up I caught sight of a reflection of myself in the mirror hanging on the wall across from my desk. “Oh God,” I released my locs and scooped them back into a ponytail. “I look awful.”
Turning to Jennifer, I said, “I’m going to run home and freshen up, please make an appointment with Mr. Weiss’ secretary, preferably today. Tell Angela it’s in regards to the Masterson case.”
“Consider it done,” she replied.
“Thanks,” I quickly packed my bag and hustled out of the office.
I barely said, “Hello and goodbye to Drew, the receptionist, before rushing out of the lobby doors. Standing at the elevator, I checked my email on my phone, only looking up when I heard the elevator ding. When the door opened, my heart sank, but I managed to pull a smile across my face.
“Good morning, Alexa,” Clark’s smile wavered. “Are you leaving?” he stepped to the side.
“I,” I looked like hell. “I’m on my way out but I’m coming back soon. Are you here to see Mr. Weiss?” I watched as the doors closed.
“Actually,” he turned towards me fully. “I came to see you.”
“Oh,” I shifted under his gaze. Seeing myself through his eyes, I saw the smudged eyeliner, the almost gone lipstick and my wrinkled clothes. “About what?”
“Wanted to ask you out to the latest Lin-Manuel Miranda musical,” he pulled out two tickets from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed them to me.
Taking them, my reserve was replaced with awe, “I… I thought this show was sold out.” I stared at the two strips in my hand.
“It is,” Clark said. “But I called in a favor. So?”
Looking up at him, I handed them to him, “Yes, I wouldn’t pass up the chance to see that show.”
“Great,” he smiled and pocketed the tickets. “So I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Saturday! I was so caught up in the existence of the tickets that I didn’t look at the date. “Yes,” I said, I’ll just call Toya and see if she could change the date of the girls’ night. “Maybe we can meet for drinks before the show,” I offered.
“And check out that new place on Third afterward,” Clark referred to the Vietnamese restaurant that opened a few months earlier on.
“I’ve been meaning to go there,” I said before the elevator doors opened. Faced with the people in the lobby who were waiting for the elevator, I was brought back to reality, a reality where I looked like hell.
“I better get going,” I said skirting around people coming into the elevator. “Saturday at 6:30?”
“Sounds good,” Clark stepped out of the elevator.
“Great. Until then,” I began to hustle towards the main doors. Then I came to a stop and turned. “Thanks.”
He smiled and jammed his hands in his pockets. “No problem, you’re worth it.”
Somehow, Clark was able to take this embarrassing moment and make it magical. If we weren’t in the lobby of my firm’s building, I would have kissed him. All I could do was return his smile and say, “Saturday.”
As I all but ran out into the morning sun, I promised I would call Toya and tell her about Saturday.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I didn’t call Toya, between meeting with Weiss, then with Mr. Masterson and working on the case, I never got around to making the call. It was Toya who had called me. It was my first evening home instead of at work and I was curled up with a book, trying to distract my mind from work.
Picking up the phone and seeing the name displayed, I felt a prick of guilt, I answered the call with much apprehension.
“So everything is set and, to Luisa’s insistence, no male strippers were ordered,” Toya didn’t even say hello. She reeled off the plans for the evening, not giving me an inch to tell her the bad news. That is until she said, “So when will you be coming over?”
My lips formed around the first word, but nothing came. The quickly crafted excuse, reason, whatever was blocked by the guilt that was now stuck in my throat.
“You’re not coming,” a coolness replaced the gaiety in Toya’s voice. “Who is it? Julian or Clark?”
“Clark,” I whispered. His name undid the jam and my words rushed forward until they ended in the trickle of “I’m sorry.”
One would think Toya was the type of person who ranted and raved, but she was scarier than that. It was the silence between her measured sentences that chilled one’s blood. The way her words were targeted and shot straight to one’s heart with the precision of a special forces sniper. It was impossible to never anger or disappoint Toya, all I could do was brace myself.
“I really hoped you would have taken this bet seriously,” she said at last. “How is this different from when you were with Malachi or Jason or what’s his name?”
Craig, I thought but dared not say.
“This bet was an opportunity for you to explore who you are,” she continued. “To understand what you needed for you, not getting caught up in another relationship that would lead to what happened with Malachi.”
“What happened with Malachi turned out to be a good decision,” I tried to defend myself.
“And what about Jason and ….”
“Craig.”
“You know you sabotaged those relationships,” Toya didn’t hold back. “Tell me I’m lying.”
I could, the men of my past paraded before me, holding up signs with the reasons we broke up blazed across them.
“What is it? Date three with Clark?”
My silence was answer enough.
A bitter laugh tumbled through the phone, “Instead of ending up with one man, you end up with two.”
Excuses could have been said. The tickets were impossible to get. It was a sold out show. It was more than a date. They blew through my mind like dry leaves and they would never do. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“I know,” Toya said with a sigh. “You always do, but it isn’t us who you are short changing. It’s yourself, it’s these men who don’t know that it can never be forever with you.”
“I never promised them forever,” I found a piece of my backbone.
“Did you state otherwise? Can you honestly say they are not taken with you? I’ve seen Julian and I can only imagine with Clark.” With a sigh, Toya said, “I’m done, if anything, I getting $100 from this.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” I sa
id, my voice low.
“Them sound like fighting words,” If I was in front of my friend, I was sure to see a sad smile on her face.
“You have two dates each and a month and a half to go. I don’t think the men would be too happy to slow things down.”
A challenge was presented. It was not an idle bet, it questioned my reserve, my ability to change. I wanted to be with these men, but Toya spoke the truth, a bitter, unyielding truth. I wanted to prove her wrong.
“Anything is possible,” I said, my chin rising. “New Year’s will have you doling out the cash.”
“We’ll see,” Toya didn’t sound convinced. “Talk to you later.”
“Later, Toya.”
I disconnected, but I was not in the mood to read anymore. Getting out of bed, I made my way to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of white wine. As I leaned against the kitchen counter, I decided that I was going to approach this differently. Leaving it up to chance got me three dates in.
Like the previous nights, I stayed up late, but instead of toiling over work, I was hatching a plan for my love life. I was going to win the bet and keep the men in my life. Who said I couldn’t have both or in this case, all three?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“When are you coming up?” Jada asked after a quick hello.
“What?” I sat down on the edge of my bed, my laundry surrounding me. My sister had caught me when I was bringing in my last load of laundry.
“When are you coming up for Thanksgiving?” Jada asked, before yelling at one of her middle kids.
Once she had quieted down, I said, “Wednesday evening. Why do you ask?”
“Just wanted to know how long we’ll be having you this time,” Jada was truly my mother’s daughter. “Let me guess, you’re leaving Friday morning.”
“Well,” I grabbed a blouse and tossed it into the appropriate basket. “If you know the answer, why ask?”
“We miss you,” my sister tried a different angle. “We barely get to see you.”
“You are going to see me all of Thursday,” I said, trying to sound cheerful instead of giving into the chagrin I felt when I imagined cooking with mom and Jada. I could even hear the conversations of them talking about so and so from church or this and that who worked down at the Walmart.
“Alexa? Are you there?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I focused on the real conversation taking place.
“It’s just that…” this caught my attention.
“What is it Jada?” my hands stilled.
The pause before her answer of, “Nothing,” unsettled me.
“It’s nothing really,” stressing the last word. While the possibilities of what nothing meant ran through my head, my sister yelled at her kids. Then with a sigh, she said, “I’ve got to go see what mess Junior and Candace made. See you on Wednesday.”
It was she who hung up, not giving me a chance to interrogate her. I was left staring at the blank phone. I could have called her back, but she would have used her kids as an excuse not to talk to me.
Bringing my phone back to life, I scrolled through the numbers and names until I found ‘Mom’.
“Hi, dear.” With the passing of days, her voice had lost its sharpness.
“Hi, Mom,” I tried to sound as casual as she did. “Um, is everything okay back home?”
At first, she hesitated, then she quickly said, “Everything is fine, just fine, why you ask, Alexa?”
“Well, I was speaking with Jada and..” And what? She sounded strange and became evasive? That there is something she’s hiding. It all sounded weird in my head so I left them unsaid.
“It’s probably nothing,” my mother said when I failed to find the right words. “You know how your sister can be.”
Yes, I did, but I also knew how my mother could be as well. “How’s daddy?” I asked. “Is he there?”
This time, the hesitation was longer, my mother seldom chose her words. They normally formed on her tongue just before she spoke them. “He’s fine and he’s out. Should be coming back anytime soon.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll give him a call and – “
“Don’t bother, he went and forgot his phone at home,” she interjected.
“Oh,” I didn’t hide my disappointment. “I guess I’ll wait until he gets home. I'll call back.”
“No, I'll have him call you,” it wasn't an offer, it was what was going to happen. There were times when my mother left no room for negotiation, this was one of those times.
“Okay,” was all I could say on the matter. We spoke a little bit longer on lighter matters, the goings on in my hometown and the details of my visit. In a way, I was stalling, hoping my father would arrive while we spoke. Unfortunately, we could speak for only so long, before we entered the uncomfortable territory of my love life. A territory I escaped with little resistance from my mother. Evidently, she had her own ways and intentions.
In the end, all I could do was wait for the call from my father. I waited as I sorted my laundry and packed them away. I waited while I did my Saturday chores. I waited as I got ready for my date with Clark. And as I left my apartment and made my way towards midtown to meet Clark, I wondered if my father not calling was his choice or my mother's decision.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“What's wrong?” Clark was sitting across from me at a small table at a bar across the street from the theater. We had already ordered and gotten our drinks. Red wine for me and a cognac for him.
When I looked up from the screen of my phone, he said, “You've been checking your phone every five minutes, are you expecting a call?”
Although we were having great conversations, I was guilty of not being completely attentive. Between talking about plays we've seen and plays we wanted to see, I was checking my phone which sat beside my glass.
“I'm sorry,” I took up the phone and slipped it into my purse, hoping that out of sight meant out of mind. “I was expecting a call from my dad.”
My concern was not lost on my date, “Is he okay?”
“That's it,” I picked up my glass. “I don't know for sure. My mother says he's fine but I prefer to hear it from him.”
As I sipped my wine, I tried to tell myself that he was probably busy and hadn't gotten around to call me.
“What's your dad like?” Clark asked.
I smiled as memories sprung forth, each sweeter than the last. “He's one of the good, good men. A hard worker, a good provider and a great father. He was always our champion, he may not be at every event, but he always sat with us and went over them. And when he was there, he would cheer the loudest, with the biggest smile and the tightest hug.”
I bit my lip as tears pricked the back of my eyes and blurred my vision. With a sniff, I said, “He's... I should have called him more.”
Clark reached across the table and placed his hand on mine. I tried to fight the tears, but they fell anyway, coursing down my cheeks.
“We don't have to go to the musical,” he began to say. “We could-”
“No,” I said quickly. Pulling myself together, I said, “You went through so much to get these tickets.” And I disappointed my friends to see this musical, I kept to myself.
“I'm going to be fine. In fact,” I pulled out my phone from my purse and turned it off. “I'm here with you and you deserve my undivided attention.”
“Are you sure?” Clark's eyebrow rose.
“Absolutely,” I aimed for confident. “Now let me take care of this,” I waved at my face, sure that my makeup was ruined.
As I walked pass, Clark reached for my forearm. His hand slid down and he interlaced his fingers with mine. “It's going to be okay. I'm sure he's fine.”
Once again, my vision blurred and I couldn't bring myself to speak. All I could do was nod and squeeze his hand before releasing it and hustling to the restroom to repair the damage.
###
Somehow, I was able to focus on the rest of my date with Clark. The musical was better t
han I expected and we were so busy talking about it afterward, that I barely focused on not hearing from my dad. Then we were caught up in the Vietnamese food, sampling each other’s dishes. It was only as we waited for the bill that thoughts of what could be wrong started to arise.
“Ready?” Clark asked as he signed the credit card receipt and wrote in the tip.
“Not really,” I said with a sigh. The prospect of my empty apartment and the countless what if's with nothing to distract me made me want the date not to end.
Clark ushered me through the near empty restaurant, “What do you say to a nightcap at my place?”
“I say yes, if you will have me,” I replied, grateful for the invite.
“You are always welcome at my place, Alexa,” Clark said opening the door for me.
“Likewise,” I said, turning to him as we stepped onto the sidewalk. “Thank you,” I took his hands, interlaced my fingers with his and pulled him close. “I really appreciate everything.”
He leaned in and kissed me. It was gentle with hidden promises. It was short and, yet, it left me breathless, wanting more. “You're welcome,” Clark whispered, then pulled away, but his arm wrapped around my waist.
Raising his hand, he hailed a cab and in minutes we were whizzing through the city. In the backseat, we didn't speak but our fingers were linked on his thigh, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. Between that, glances and knowing smiles, we didn't need words.
By the time we reached his townhouse in the outskirts of the city, Clark and I did away with the idea of sitting around and nursing drinks. With the closing of the front door, we reached for each other. Lips did more than promise; hands were not restricted as we discovered each other in ways that were more carnal than intellectual.
The promises made by the kiss on the street were met and surpassed. This was what I wanted, this is what I needed. As a climax crashed over me, I held on tightly to the man who had given me so much. His trust, his company, his understanding and now a much-needed distraction.
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