The One That I Want

by Zuri Day

  Jon made a mental note to call Tashmir as soon as they landed.

  Tashmir and Lola sat down at the bar of the Bangkok Happy Bowl for dinner. “Well,” Tashmir said as she glanced at the menu, “this is different.”

  “I’m looking for a new Christmas dinner tradition. Why not Thai?”

  Tashmir rolled her eyes. “Because you need to be in Miami talking to Jon. Coconut rice and chicken satay isn’t going to fix what’s wrong with you and Jon.”

  Lola rolled her eyes as she shoveled a spoonful of coconut rice into her mouth. “This is heaven,” she said after swallowing. “And I’m not trying to fix something that Jon doesn’t give a damn about.”

  Tashmir held her ringing cell phone in Lola’s face. “Are you sure about that?” Lola nearly choked on her rice when she saw Jon’s number scroll across the screen.

  “Don’t answer that phone!”

  Tashmir pressed the talk button and stuck her tongue out at her friend. “Hey, Jon. What? Are you daft? Lola is not in Aspen with another man. I know because I’m here. I swear, both of you have lost your damned minds. Are you cheating on her? What makes you think Lola would do something like that? Oh, yeah, the divorce papers. Maybe you should talk to her. I don’t like being in the middle of married folks’ problems.”

  Lola threw up her hands and shook her head as Tashmir turned to her, holding the phone out.

  “Take this damned phone or he goes on speaker,” Tashmir threatened.

  “Fine,” Lola said, and took the phone from her friend’s hand. Then she hung up. “Put that on speaker.”

  “You’re acting like a child. Why won’t you return his phone calls? You know he thinks you’re with another man. Is that how you want this to play out, Lo?”

  “He said that?”

  Tashmir nodded and Lola gritted her teeth. “That . . . It would serve him right if I was with another man, but Jon has to know that he’s the only one for me.”

  Snorting, Tashmir shot her friend a piercing glance. “Those divorce papers say differently.”

  “Just because I’m divorcing him it doesn’t mean that I don’t love him,” Lola said.

  Tashmir waved for the bartender. “Yes, beautiful?” he said when he approached her.

  “I need something that goes with delusional friends,” she said, casting a sidelong look at Lola.

  “I don’t follow,” he said, his brows knotted in confusion.

  “Bourbon, keep it coming,” Tashmir said. He smiled, still missing out on the joke, and poured two glasses of Jack Daniels.

  “Sir, I don’t want . . .” Lola began. Tashmir silenced her friend when she drank both shots back to back. “Okay, when did you become a lush?”

  “You and Jon are driving me to drink. I’ve never seen two people who are so silly.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She picked up the menu and scanned her dinner choices again. “Just dumb. You serve him divorce papers as a Christmas gift; he calls me and asks if you’re in Aspen with your lover. It’s so damned obvious that you two need each other, love each other, and miss each other, but neither one of you wants to act like an adult.”

  “I’m trying to find my happy again. Jon doesn’t care about my happiness. He’s all about money and his business.”

  Tashmir rolled her eyes again. “If that is the truth, why is calling me?”

  Good question, Lola thought but didn’t say a word.

  After ordering dinner and savoring the Thai food, Lola and Tashmir headed back to the resort. “What are we going to do now?” Lola asked. “I think I saw something about a night ski.”

  “You knock yourself out with that, I’m going to sleep so I can get a spa treatment in the morning. You’re stressing me out and it’s Christmas.”

  “Aww, you have to see snow at night,” Lola said. “It’s beautiful.”

  Tashmir yawned. “Take pictures and show them to me in the morning.”

  “Party pooper.” Lola poked her bottom lip out like a child.

  Tashmir patted her friend’s knee. “That doesn’t work on me. I’m not Jon and I don’t find you charming,” she said. Arriving at their suite, Tashmir was true to her word and went straight to bed. Lola, on the other hand, dressed in her ski attire and headed to the site of the night ski.

  She wasn’t surprised to see a bunch of couples, but it didn’t stop her from feeling melancholy about being alone this close to Christmas. Lola wondered if Jon would’ve joined her on the ski outing? The old Jon would’ve. Lola imagined the two of them zooming down the hill and stopping behind those trees in the distance, sharing a kiss or two and then throwing real snowballs at each other.

  “Hello?” the ski instructor, who was inches away from Lola, said. She snapped her head up.

  “Huh?”

  “I was asking if you’d skied before,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “I guess I’m not ready for night skiing,” Lola said as she clutched her skis. “I’m sorry, I’m going inside.” She stomped up the hill and headed to the lodge. Leaning her skis against the wall, she headed up to the bar. Shivering, Lola decided that she needed something hot and something to numb her mind.

  “How are you, darling?” the bartender asked.

  “Cold.”

  “I have the perfect drink for you. Coffee and Kahlua.”

  “Sounds perfect,” she said with a sigh. “And if you want to drop some extra Kahlua in there, I won’t complain at all.”

  “Come on, you can’t be sad at Christmas in Aspen. The weather is beautiful, the people are amazing, and . . .”

  “You don’t have to sell me on Aspen, I’m just not feeling the holidays this year.” Lola shrugged as she took her drink and headed to the fireplace. Sitting on the plush sofa, which was empty, she knew why it didn’t feel like Christmas. She missed her husband.

  Jon paid too much for the only suite the hotel had left, but he didn’t give a damn. Finding Lola had been his priority. Of course, the desk clerk hadn’t been willing to help him by giving him Lola’s information. She wouldn’t even confirm the reservation, even after he pulled up the e-mail online. And for once, Langston’s charm didn’t work on the uber professional clerk. Whatever, he would search the resort from top to bottom.

  Langston touched his brother’s shoulder. “You need to take a breath and calm down,” he said. “And you wonder why Jenni didn’t tell you where Lola is staying.”

  “Who in the hell is Jenni?”

  “The desk clerk.” Langston shook his head and plopped down on the plush sofa. “So, what did Lola’s homegirl say?”

  “That Lola isn’t here with another man.”

  “So, who is she here with?”

  “Tash is here with her.”

  “The cutie who owns that café? Heartbeat, Heart attack, something like that? Always seen her in passing, but never had the chance to see what she’s really working with.” Jon tossed a pillow at his brother’s head. “Are you serious?”

  Langston caught the pillow and rested it on his lap. “Listen, if these two women are here together, you need a wingman to distract the friend. Besides, I came here ready to throw blows, now I might get a chance to . . .”

  “Tashmir is beautiful and too much woman for you. So, if you think you’re going to work the Langston charm on her, it’s not going to work. You seem a little rusty anyway,” Jon said.

  “Excuse me? I’m not the one who had to fly across the country to track down a woman.”

  “Yeah, and your charming ass couldn’t get the desk clerk to give us Lola’s room number.”

  “Whatever,” he snapped.

  “Anyway, I’m going to find my wife, either you’re going to help me or you’re going to stay out of my way.”

  “Are you forgetting that you asked me to come with you?”

  “My mistake.”

  “Tell me about this Tashmir chick and I’ll know what I need to do.”

  “She’s cool, unless she’s just covering for
Lola and that guy.” Jon chewed his bottom lip. In his heart of hearts, he didn’t believe Tashmir would lie—but then again, he never believed Lola would file for divorce.

  “Come on, let’s go to the bar and you can get your mind clouded with alcohol. You don’t need to go off all half-cocked, stalking women who look like Lola from behind.”

  “I’m going to the bar. Alone.” Jon headed out of the room and to the elevator. He yawned as the doors opened. So, this was what jet lag felt like. As he rode downstairs, Jon wondered how he didn’t notice that his wife was unhappy enough to file for divorce.

  “You’re never home,” Lola said calmly as she and Jon walked into the JMJ Christmas gala a week ago.

  “We’re going to do this now?” He glanced at her, drinking in her image—clad in a slinky red silk dress, five-inch black heels, and a teardrop diamond pendant hanging dangerously close to her cleavage. Jon wanted to reach out and touch her in the most intimate way. But this wasn’t the time or the place for a PDA or this quiet fight Lola was picking.

  “When’s the last time I had a moment alone with you?”

  Jon was about to answer when two of his biggest buyers approached him and started talking about the best-selling NCAA football game that JMJ had just released. Lola tilted her head to the side and shot him an icy glare.

  “You have to tell me,” Sonie Ando said excitedly. “What is the cheat code to beat Johnny Football?”

  Lola rolled her eyes and dropped her husband’s arm. “Lola,” he said.

  “I’m going to have champagne, darling,” she drawled. Her tone let him know that she was pissed off, while his clients thought she was just ready to party.

  Jon watched her as she headed for the bar. Yes, the last ten months had been a lot of long hours. He had to secure the rights to use the NCAA schools and provide scholarships for the schools who’d signed on with him. Then there were the threats from another software company who’d claimed that Jon and JMJ had infringed on their copyright. The game had been pushed back for about three months and Jon wasn’t sure the game would be released by Christmas. But a miracle happened and the suit was dismissed at the end of September. So, Jon wanted to celebrate. He figured Lola would be just as jubilant. Instead, his wife was miserable.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said, attempting to walk away from the buyers. As he meandered through the crowd, it seemed as if Lola was moving farther and farther away from him. And when he arrived at the bar, she was gone.

  Was that the beginning of the end? Had he missed the signs of her unhappiness? Broken the one promise that he’d made to her—that he would never make her cry?

  Walking into the ski lounge, Jon spotted Lola sitting near the fireplace with a mug in her hands. The look in her eyes gave him chills. She looked as if she was going to cry at the drop of a hat. Had he done this to her?

  Crossing over to her, Jon planted himself in front of Lola and took the mug from her hands. Without saying a word, he scooped his wife up in his arms and strode out of the lounge.

  It took about three seconds for Lola to register what was going on. What in the world was Jon doing in Aspen? “Put me down!” she exclaimed as she beat her fists against his chest.

  “You need to calm down,” he said.

  “Calm down? Calm down?” she parroted as he continued walking toward the exit. “Jonathan Michael, put me down!”

  “Did you think I was just going to sign divorce papers and let it go?”

  “Why not?” she asked. “You haven’t been much of a husband, so I thought you would’ve been happy.”

  “Happy? Lola, who is he?”

  “He?” She laughed. “Is that why you came here? Thought someone else was playing with your shiny toy and now you give a damn?”

  “People don’t file for divorce, wrap the papers in a Christmas box, and run off to Colorado,” he gritted as he kicked the door open and headed outside. Lola shivered in his arms as a cold wind blew across them.

  “Jon, put me down.”

  He looked into his wife’s teary eyes. “Lola, what’s going on?”

  “I’m tired of being ignored by my husband!” She pounded his chest again.

  “So, this was for attention? You got my attention, Lola. Now tell me why you had to go to this extreme?!”

  She wiggled in his arms until he finally put her down. Standing toe-to-toe with him, Lola wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap him or kiss him. He looked so good, though. And felt even better when he had her in his arms. Wait, you’re mad at him, and how in the hell did he find you? she thought.

  “I’m waiting, Lola.”

  “I’ve been waiting for a long time, Jon. I’ve been waiting for you to stop treating me like an item on your to-do list!”

  “Lola, I know things have been hectic lately. But—”

  “Hectic? That’s what you call it? Tell me something, Jon, when’s the last time we made love?”

  He tilted his head to the side as if her question caught him off guard. “What?”

  “Can’t remember? How about this, when is the last time we celebrated Christmas with family?” She pushed him. “Do you know how sick and tired of video games I am?”

  “But those games you’re sick and tired of are the reason why you could hop on a plane and come here,” he snapped.

  “You know better than that, Jon. This has never been about money. I don’t care about your money. . . .”

  “Our money,” he said. “I’ve done all of this for us and . . .”

  She shook her head and didn’t stop the flow of tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I never wanted this. Did I want you to be successful? Yes! I love seeing your dreams come true. But I thought I was part of those dreams. I thought I was part of what made you happy.”

  “Lola, you do make me happy,” he said. “I love you and that hasn’t—”

  “Jon, just stop.” She shook her head. “Somewhere along this journey of yours, you forgot what really matters.”

  “I haven’t forgotten anything,” he said. “I wanted you to have all of the things that—”

  “I don’t want things, I want you! I want you, and I want my husband to pay attention to me and stop treating me like a damned afterthought!”

  “You know I don’t treat you like that.”

  She wiped her eyes, her sadness now transforming into anger. “What do you call it, then?” Lola snapped.

  “I call it taking care of my wife.”

  “Well, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it. I don’t want things, I don’t want your money, I want you.”

  “Lola, I’ve always been right here. And what in the hell was the purpose of divorce papers in a Christmas box?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “How was that any different from you dragging me to all of those business Christmas parties? You took my favorite holiday and turned it into a marketing strategy. Thanks, Jon.”

  He shook his head. “You sound like a spoiled brat.”

  “No, I sound like a woman who’s tired of being ignored. Why don’t you just sign the papers, since I’m a spoiled brat?” Lola was getting pretty damned tired of the brat label.

  “I’m not signing a damn thing!” he boomed. “Let’s go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m getting my white Christmas right here.”

  Jon scooped her up again. And Lola groaned. “This barbarian act isn’t working. Put me down, Jon!”

  Jon stopped and lowered his wife in front of him. He gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes. He didn’t like the pain he saw etched across her face. Didn’t like the threat of tears building. Had he really been that oblivious to what Lola was feeling? “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Lola.”

  “What?”

  “Maybe I have been focused on the wrong things, babe. But I would give it all up if that’s what it takes to save us.”

  Lola shivered. “Jon . . .”

  “I love you and I’m not letting you go.”


  “How are we supposed to fix this?” She ran her hand over her face.

  Jon pulled out his cell phone and Lola was tempted to slap it from his hand. How many times had they been in the middle of a conversation, dinner, or relaxing on the sofa when that damned phone would ring. And he always had to answer it. Lola shook her head and started to walk away. Jon reached out and grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

  “To my room. I ask you a question and you get on the phone? You’re always on that damned phone!”

  “I was calling a car so we can get out of here,” he replied. “Lola, give me a chance.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “All right, but I’m not taking a backseat to JMJ business or that damned phone.”

  “This is going to be the best Christmas you’ve ever had.” When Jon smiled, she almost believed him.

  “Wait,” she said. “I can’t just leave Tashmir without telling her what’s going on.”

  “So, you two are really here alone?”

  Lola pushed her husband. “You flew here thinking I was with another man? Really, Jonathan Michael! Why don’t you come up to my suite and look under the bed? I can’t believe you.”

  “You can’t believe me? You can’t believe that I would think you had another man when you served me divorce papers? What in the hell was I supposed to think, Lola?”

  She hauled off and slapped him. She was about to deliver another blow when Jon grabbed her wrist. “Stop it,” he growled.

  “I would never cheat on you and if you thought—”

  Jon pulled her against his chest and captured her mouth in a hungry kiss. As much as she wanted to fight it, Lola felt herself melting against her husband’s hot body and losing her anger as his tongue probed her mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed her like this. The last time she felt this kind of passion. Moaning, Lola gripped his shoulders and pulled him closer. She felt as if she wanted to disappear inside him. Why couldn’t it always be like this? It was as if reality stepped in between their kiss and Lola pulled back.