The Vow

by Denene Millner

  “Who’s to say it couldn’t?” I asked, turning to look him in his beautiful eyes.

  “It hasn’t worked for us in a long time,” he said quietly. “We were kids when it last did.”

  “And now we’re grown, and we’ve lived and dated and loved enough to know what it takes for it to work, haven’t we?”

  “One would think so,” he said. “One would think so.”

  Donny sang some more, and now Sean was singing with him as he slowly stroked my hair. And Donny was absolutely right: for all we know, tomorrow is made for sun.

  After our birthday party blow-up, I tossed that bridal magazine into the recycling bin; I was sure that the white girl was signal enough that Sean didn’t love me anymore. But now, as I lay in the arms of the love of my life, I made a mental note to retrieve it the moment Sean pulled his car out of the driveway.

  10

  TRISTA

  Waking up in Garrett’s arms feels heavenly. I burrow deeper into his warm embrace, our naked bodies a puzzle of tangled limbs. I kiss him softly on the lips as he sleeps. I wish I could stay here in his arms a little longer but I need to get to work. But before I go into the office I’ve got to go home and change clothes. I can’t exactly roll into the office wearing the white satin Dolce & Gabana pantsuit and the Blahnik Swarovski-crystal-studded sandals I wore to the awards last night. Although I must admit, this suit, with the single diamond-cluster button closure that Amaya convinced me must be worn without a top, was so fierce I’d dare somebody to say something about it.

  It had been quite a night. Cassidy won the award for best actress and I was on top of the world. I was a little miffed that she thanked the firm in her acceptance speech and not me personally, but the thumbs-up I got from Mr. Banks reassured me. And watching Steven seethe while standing next to his uncle was the icing on my cake.

  After the awards, Garrett and I got into one of the limousines The Agency had hired for the night and headed over to the In Style party. Just as Garrett broke open a bottle of Cristal in the back of the car to celebrate, my father called on my cell to congratulate me. When he tried to pass the phone to my sister, I heard her say she needed to go check on Tyquan. I told my dad I’d make it over this weekend to tell him all about it. I refused to let Tanisha’s nastiness get to me that night.

  The In Style party was a lavish affair. The candlelit room had been transformed into a beautiful vineyard. Arbor-like structures were stationed around the perimeter of the room, framing the rich, jewel-toned linens on the tables. The intoxicating scent of the towering floral arrangements hit us as soon as we walked in the door.

  Most of the major category winners were there and Cassidy glowed center stage. When she saw me making my way into the party, she screamed my name and ran over as quickly as possible in her formfitting, Grecian-style, one-shoulder gown in the exact same shade of gold as the statuette she clutched to her breast. Carefully orchestrated tears streamed down her face. Before I could tell her that this was only the beginning of the things I foresaw for her career she was yanked away by her publicist to take pictures. No matter, I was high on winning. That night, studio heads—people whose “people” I could normally only talk to—came up to me to offer their congratulations. I also fielded a lot of interest in Jared’s career and in some other of my clients as well. By far one of the biggest highlights was when some stars I knew were shopping for new representation dropped thinly veiled hints that they would be open to the idea of lunch. I ducked into a corner and whipped out my BlackBerry to email Adriene, asking her to schedules dates as soon as possible. It was my night. I had made it. And I was sharing the spotlight.

  Wearing a black tuxedo that would’ve put James Bond to shame, Garrett stood by my side the entire night. We flowed seamlessly through the crowd. I liked the feel of his hand at the small of my back as we moved through the party. He knew quite a few of the people there and introduced me to his colleagues as his “girlfriend.” I really liked the sound of that. When we talked, it felt as if no one else was in the room. And I’m never like that at a function where I could be making contacts. But it seemed like everyone else just faded into the background and all that mattered was being in this moment with Garrett. As the night went on, and the drinks kept flowing, I got high on winning, and on Garrett.

  A bathroom break would change all that.

  After I made my way back into the party I heard someone calling my name. When I turned around, I saw Damon striding toward me. What’s he doing here? I considered bolting in the other direction but thought better of it. This is my turf. Besides, I’d had just enough champagne to tell him off.

  “Hey, Trista,” he said when he made it through the crowd, “you look amazing. Congratulations.” As he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek I pulled back.

  “Thank you,” I said icily. Damn, he looked good. The tailored tuxedo fit him very well, but I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of a compliment.

  “Did you get my email?”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked testily, looking around the room for Garrett.

  “I came with my boss, who sits on the board of one of the studios, hoping to see you. Look, I owe you an explanation about what happened in Atlanta.” I cut him off before he could continue.

  “Damon, what happened in Atlanta is long forgotten. This is the best night of my life and the last thing I want to do is rehash a mistake I made months ago with you,” I said as I took a sip of champagne. As I tilted my glass, some of the champagne spilled onto the top of my breasts and ran down between them. I saw his eyes follow the path and I felt a surge of power. “So what is it you want, Damon?”

  “I just want to say I’m sorry. That woman, Alicia, was someone that I broke things off with right before I came to the wedding, but she flew out to try to surprise me.”

  “Well, you looked surprised all right.” I laughed bitterly.

  “Yes, I was surprised by her appearance, but more important,” he said as he took my hand in his, “I was surprised by all the old feelings when I saw you again.”

  Just as I tried to snatch my hand back, someone stepped between us. Standing a bit too close, it was evident in the way Steven slurred his words, and from the smell of his breath, that he’d had a lot to drink. I stepped back to escape his foul breath.

  “Well, Trista, congrats,” he said with mock sincerity, as he took another swig of the amber-colored liquid in his glass, spilling some on his tux. He was clearly drunk. I could see his adult acne flaring up in response to his frustration. I thought about suggesting a topical ointment.

  “Thank you, Steven,” I answered coolly.

  “Guess you just got lucky,” he said. I felt Damon stiffen beside me.

  “Yeah, Steven, whatever…”

  “Well, don’t get too cocky and think you’re automatically making partner,” he sneered, his eyes narrowing into little angry slits.

  But now I didn’t care who the hell his uncle was. I was ready to get straight South Central on his ass.

  “I think we’re finished with this conversation,” interrupted Damon as he took me by my elbow to lead me away from Steven. As he turned to make his way past, he brushed Steven hard enough to knock him down into one of the potted trees. Steven dropped his drink and spilled the rest of the contents in his lap. All I could do was laugh at the sight of the waiters trying to help him out of the tree.

  “Hey,” I tried to protest but Damon kept moving through the crowd. I saw Garrett looking around the room for me, but he didn’t see us. Damon led me into a deserted room.

  “Trista, what the hell was that all about?” he asked, as he loosened his bow tie.

  “That was just a guy I work with who’s not happy about me winning tonight. And what does it matter to you?”

  “It matters to me because I didn’t like the way he was talking to you.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, did you think he was disrespecting me? Well, that was nothing compared to the way you disrespected me in Atlanta!
And the way you’ve always disrespected me and what I want.”

  “I told you what happened there. I tried to find you to explain, but you took off just like you always do when you’re faced with something you don’t want to deal with.”

  “Damon, the only thing I don’t want to deal with anymore is you. You don’t owe me any explanation. I’m not trying to hear anything you’ve got to say. This is so typical of you. Can’t you see? I’ve done it! I’ve done everything I said I was going to do. And you know what? I did it without you!”

  “Trista, I’m proud of you. More than you’ll ever know. But I don’t know why you felt like you had to do it on your own.”

  “Well, I’m not on my own anymore, Damon. I’m with someone who completely supports me and isn’t threatened by my success.” He seemed surprised at this last statement.

  “Is that what you think? That I’m threatened by your success? Trista, is that all you think is still between us?”

  “But that’s just it, Damon. I don’t want there to be anything between us. It’s over. Let’s just let it go, Damon. It’s over.” At the sound of someone opening the door we jumped apart.

  “Oh, excuse me,” apologized a waitress as she quickly backed out and shut the door behind her. I took this interruption as my chance to escape and bolted from the room. I heard him calling my name behind me but I moved through the crowd until I found Garrett.

  “Hey, baby. Did you get lost?” he asked as he wrapped his arm around my waist to pull me close and kiss my forehead.

  “No, there was just a really long line in the ladies room,” I answered trying not to sound as flustered as I felt.

  “Are you about ready to go?” he asked.

  “You read my mind. I think I’m ready for a private celebration,” I whispered seductively in his ear. “Let’s get out of here.” When we got outside we had to wait for the attendant to call for our car. Just as it pulled up, I saw Damon step out of the party and light a cigar. When he looked up he saw us standing under the awning.

  “Trista, are you leaving?” he asked, his eyes searched mine.

  “Uh, yes, Damon. It was nice to see you,” I said, as I tried to sound casual. What more could I say to have him get the message that we’re over? Then I got an idea.

  “Damon, this is Garrett James, my boyfriend. Garrett, this is an old friend from college, Damon Reynolds.” I watched Damon as he absorbed my words and thought I saw a flicker of surprise, but then it disappeared and he shook Garrett’s extended hand.

  “Nice to meet you, man,” Garrett said. “What brings you to L.A.?”

  “I just moved here to open an office,” Damon said.

  “What line of business are you in?”

  “I work with Global Investments.”

  “GI? Oh, wow, I’ve got a meeting with you guys next week to discuss representation. I’m a managing partner with Williams, Nave, Townsend and James.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Did he just say what I think he said? This can’t be happening.

  “Cool,” said Damon. “Look forward to it, man. See you around, Trista.” Damon winked at me, shook Garrett’s hand again, and told him he looked forward to talking to him next week.

  I SLIP OUT of Garrett’s bed and begin to pick up my clothing from the floor but can’t seem to find my thong. I blush with the memory of how it came off last night. To rid my mind of thoughts of Damon, I initiated a little foreplay in the limo. When I tuned the radio to my favorite station, the DJ must have known what I had in mind because Prince’s “I Want to Be Your Lover” was playing. I thought Garrett would get off on the thought that the driver could be watching us, so I left the tinted partition down halfway and then climbed on his lap. I figured right. As I loosened the button on my blazer, I could feel that he was already aroused. Luckily it was a quick ride to his house in the hills. Once we made it to his bedroom, I decided to try something from the Blow and Get Low course. The finale for my little show was removing my thong and tossing them onto his head, but I’m not sure where it went after that. I crawl around on the floor and reach around under the bed with my hand, hoping it got kicked under there.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” says Garrett as he yawns, stretches, and sits up in his bed. He pushes a button on the nightstand and the blinds open to reveal a breathtaking view of the Hollywood hills.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I say as I abandon my search and climb back into the bed. I straddle his body and lean down to kiss him. “How are you this morning, baby?”

  “Mmmm… I’m doing real good now,” he says sleepily as he grabs my hips.

  “What you got going on down there?” I ask as I lean down and begin to kiss his lips and flick my tongue along the side of his neck.

  “Watch yourself, girl. You know that’s my spot.”

  “Oh, I know that’s your spot. But right now, it’s all mine.” I laugh softly as I continue to work my way down his hard body.

  “Now that’s how I’d like to be awakened every morning,” he says as he pulls me up by the shoulders and kisses me long and deep.

  “Every morning, huh?” I say, teasingly tracing the outline of his mouth with my tongue. He’s right, this is a nice way to start your morning, wrapped in the arms of someone special. Sharing the most important night of my life with Garrett had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  “Don’t start anything, ’cause I’ve got to go,” I say, deciding that I better get my clothes on before we start making love again. Smiling, I slide down the length of his long, hard body, and off the end of the bed to resume the search for my missing underwear.

  “Gotcha,” I say as I pull out something from under the bed. But when I get it in the light I see that it’s not my black thong but a large purple polyester g-string.

  “What the fuck?” I say, eyes flashing as I stand up and hold the offending object in two fingers, then fling it onto his naked chest. I don’t even want to think of the type of woman he was fucking that would wear that mess.

  “What’s this?” he asks as he looks down at the wrinkled ball of purple spandex.

  “Why don’t you tell me, you sorry motherfucker.” I hunt desperately around the room for my clothes, hoping I can make it out of there before I totally lose it.

  “Trista, please let me explain,” he says and jumps up out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around his waist.

  “No explanation necessary. I think I know all I need to know. You’ve been fucking some cheap, fat-ass ho.” I decide to skip looking for the thong—let some other woman find my underwear next time—and quickly pull on my pants and jacket. In the harsh light of day, the single-button clasp feels ridiculous, but I close the jacket as much as I can over my breasts and stuff my feet into the crystal-studded shoes.

  “Trista, please. It was a long time ago.”

  “Whatever, Garrett.” I grab my satin clutch off the nightstand and storm out of his bedroom. When I get downstairs I suddenly remember that we came to his house in the limo. How am I going to get home? Fuck, it’s not like I can just walk home. I pull my cell phone out of my handbag and call the one person I know is up this early.

  “Vivian Evans, Daily News,” says Viv when she picks up. I can hear the sound of her typing on her computer in the background.

  “It’s Trista,” I say, breathing heavily. “Look, I know you’re probably on deadline but can you please come get me from Garrett’s house?”

  “Sure, but just one question—are you okay?” she asks, her voice immediately filling with concern.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll tell you what happened when you get here. I’m at 1603 Valley View Drive. Please hurry.” It only takes about thirty minutes for Viv to get there, but it feels like forever as I lock myself in one of Garrett’s bathrooms to avoid talking to him. He sits outside the door, trying to explain that the g-string was from a long time ago and how much he really wants us to work this out. I keep flushing the toilet to drown him out. When I hear Viv blow her horn outside I stomp past him an
d slam the front door behind me.

  WHEN I CLIMB into the passenger seat of Viv’s Saab, I see that Amaya’s in the back, drinking a cup of Starbucks, wearing dark glasses, no makeup, and a wrinkled T-shirt and shorts. Jesus, is that a banana clip in her hair? She obviously just woke up as she never leaves the house without full makeup and hair.

  “Did you have to bring her?” I sigh, realizing I’m about to get the third degree.

  “I had to bring backup because I didn’t know what I was walking into,” says Viv as she whips the small car down the winding canyon roads.

  “You should appreciate me. Vivian woke me up out of a dead sleep to come save your ass,” says Amaya as she passes her cup of coffee to me so I can take a sip. “And you know I didn’t get in from the Essence Black Hollywood party until a couple of hours ago.”

  The events of the past twenty-four hours finally catch up with me and I burst into tears. By the time I finish telling them the whole story, we arrive at my condo. We pile out of the car and make our way inside. I head upstairs to take a quick shower and change my clothes.

  When I come back down, hair in a ponytail, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, I see that Viv has made scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. We all sit down at the table.

  “Can you believe this mess?” I ask no one in particular as I butter my toast.

  “Girl, this is some Days of Our Lives shit you got going on right here,” says Amaya, munching on a slice of turkey bacon.

  “She’s not the only candidate for an episode of Days of Our Lives,” says Viv. “I mean, one day Sean is romping around town with a white woman, the next he’s opening the door to a possible life together. Then he simply stops calling except when he needs to ask me something about our son. Not to mention the thing with Daddy, a man who, professionally, stands for everything I rail against. I’m so confused, I don’t know which way is up.”

  “Damn, y’all are both a mess,” says Amaya. “Personally, my love life is right on track. Yours truly has hooked up with the hottest forty-two-points-a-game rookie in the NBA, and now that Keith gotten a whiff of the competition, I’ll be marching down the aisle before you know it.”