by Major, Laura
Ms. Mia,
Your suggestion of reviving my favorite ripped jeans with lacy ribbon and velvet swatches was on point. I loved it so much I used the famous Mia fashion transference technique to change the look of my bedroom drapes. By the way, I entered an idea for your loft remodel. When I saw the before pics of your home, I couldn’t believe it. It takes guts to let your viewers help but I have a feeling you’re in good hands with Nate.
Of course, you have such great ideas. Don’t you find Nate a distraction?
Sincerely,
Patches
Nate was definitely a distraction. Mia's stomach felt queasy every time she stopped long enough to think about what Nate would do next. When he first hollered at her in the parking garage some months ago, she had found him to be overbearing. A man who liked to throw tantrums and make threats to get his way—she knew just how to handle men like that. The laser-precise over-handed throw of her apple had proven that. But truthfully, considering the way he stomped off the set that first day and then offered up her loft for a remodel with the help of their viewers, it’s a wonder he was going along with the program so easily. Although she found the work environment had become more agreeable, she was still being kept on the outside looking in when it came to the details of her loft remodel. The teasing way she squeezed his biceps and bumped hips with him as they hung wallpaper, curtains or any other home adornments that brought them in close proximity, was becoming more than a ploy to soften him up on the show. She also hoped the banter would compel him to go easy on her during the loft remodel. Hoping might not be enough; I'm going to have to find out what he's planning.
***
The address to the next home site was a week overdue and Nate was just waiting for the next stage of his plan to begin. While he detested playing protégé to the dark brown sugar that had hijacked his camera time and he abhorred how Jimmy took credit for every home project his firm secured. The only peace he relished was in knowing the matchstick house that Jimmy was building would soon be set aflame and he’d be carrying the flamethrower. Too bad, if Mia wasn’t selfish enough to go along with it, knowing that Jimmy had double-crossed me, I might have spared her—maybe.
“Having a wet daydream about your Nubian co-star?” Mitch perched those size 13s on the desk. With his back to the door, it wasn’t until Mitch slammed his heels down and spoke that Nate had realized his brother had entered.
“I know you’re pretty proud of your hotel redesign in Egyptian art last year, but not every stunning black woman is a Nubian princess. Besides, I don’t know what show you’re watching but there’s nothing cooperative about our work arrangement.” Nate hated that Mitch sensed his attraction to the Eye Design superstar.
“Just calling it as I see it. If you two getting any cozier while hanging wallpaper and drapes, the station might have to move your timeslot to after 10 PM.”
“Whatever, I imagine you know a lot about the after 10 timeslot.” Nate smiled as his phone began to ring interrupting the brotherly banter.
“Hello, Long Designs, Nate speaking.”
“Why hello, Nate, I didn't expect you to answer.”
“All in day’s work. What brings you to the other end of my phone line, Mia?”
“Right to business, I like that. Anyway, Nate, I'm sure you know that the show is getting great reviews. I say, we go out and celebrate.”
“I don't know, Mia. That sounds like a ploy at grabbing more publicity. I'm not interested in stirring the vultures’ nest at the tabloids.”
“Come on, Nate. We’ve been having so much fun. I would like to keep it going.”
“Then why risk it by getting together away from the show?”
“Risk? The only risk I see is the loss of authenticity if our audience thinks we don’t enjoy each another’s company.”
“Authenticity? I think Sandy and Jimmy have gotten to you. But look, I don’t profess to understand how showbiz works for you reality star types, but I run a legitimate business, Mia.”
“You’re not as green as you pretend, Nate Long, but I won’t let you insult me and I won’t take no for an answer. I promise just you and me ‒ no reporters, no photographers, just the two of us. In fact, you can even select the restaurant and it’s my treat. Now, how can you refuse an offer like that?”
“I don't know, give me a moment I'm sure I’ll think of something.” Nate replied as he waved off the gestures of his brother who was thrusting the pointer finger of his left hand into the circle created by the pointer and thumb of his right. “You know what, Mia. You’re right. How about tonight?”
“Great. Text me with the address for where we’re meeting and I’ll meet you there. Goodbye, Nate.” Mia, pleased with her gift of persuasion, hung up before Nate could reconsider.
Nate hung up the phone and his eyes were met with the all too familiar smirk on Mitch’s face. “I know what you're thinking. It's just dinner and she’s paying.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to? I know you kid brother, you won’t let her pay.”
“You don't know everything, I might let her pay?”
“Yeah, right. It'll be harder to get between those thighs if you let her pay.” Mitch laughed as he grabbed a rubber band off the desk and shot it at his brother.
“Ha ha, you're so damn funny.” Nate replied dodging the rubber torpedo. “I'm flattered that you figure me for some kind of play boy, but this is just business. Besides, did you come in here for a reason or do you have so much free time that you can afford to waste it harassing me?”
“You’re right, enough of you and your delusions. You know Nate, I can’t help but notice the absence of the Eye Design crew at our last couple of jobs. Has the hamster finally learned to run the client wheel on his own?”
“I think we will soon find out.” Nate just smiled at his brother from across the desk.
“Be careful.” Mitch sighed. “If you were half as clever as you thought, you wouldn’t be heading full-force toward a triple cross with this guy.”
“Know thy enemy better than you know thyself, Mitch. Know thy enemy better than you know thyself.” The phone rang causing Mitch’s feet to bounce on the desk in response.
Nate grabbed the receiver. “Well, hello Jimmy. My brother and I were just talking about you.”
“It’s nice to know I’m on your mind, but where’s the location of the next project?”
“I was waiting to hear from you,” Nate pushed the lower end of the receiver from his lips and smiled at his brother.
“Don’t pull this shit with me, Nate. You know we had an agreement.”
Nate slammed the lower end of the phone receiver against the desk causing Mitch to nearly jump out of his seat. “Don’t fuck with me, Jimmy. What we have is a disruption in our communication channel that has existed since this work relationship began. I clearly recall our conversation. I was to get you clients until you figured out how to secure them yourself. I believe your exact pathetic threat was ‘Once I get the rhythm of screening and securing projects, the only reference to Long Designs will be in the ending credits of Eye Design.’ Well Jimbo, I say it’s time to start listing Long Designs in the ending credits. That credit has been mysteriously absent for a while now, but I’m sure it’s just an oversight, right Jimbo?”
“What do you expect me to do? Mia and Sandy are expecting to begin filming the next project tomorrow. We have a contract, Nate.”
“You keep saying that, but nothing in the contract says I have to do anything more than show up to work every day to design homes.”
“What do you want?” Jimmy’s desperation was apparent in the strained lack of volume in his voice. Nate’s only regret was that he wasn’t recording the call for his future pleasure and Jimmy’s further torment.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Everyone will have the address of the next home project by the end of the day.” Nate slammed the phone down on its base.
“I don’t get it. You had him in the crosshairs and you don’t a
sk for more money and a bigger title.”
“Mitch, if I make a specific demand, then it’s a one-time offer. I don’t want a piece of the Titanic. I want a piece of the technology behind the Titanic and I’ll know when to turn in my chips.”
“Alright, high-roller. Just remember one thing.” Mitch lifted himself up from the chair.
“What’s that?” Nate watched as Mitch walked toward the door of the office.
“The Titanic sank.”
A huge smile spread across Nate’s face. “Exactly.”
Chapter Four
“It’s about time you showed up.” Mia said after she noticed Nate walking up to her at the bar. “When I got your text, I assumed you were already here.” Mia gestured for Nate to sit on the stool beside her.
“Were you worried that you’d been stood up?” Nate asked as he slid onto the stool.
“Well, you are a little unpredictable.” Mia took another sip of her drink. “I wasn't sure what to think.”
“What is that, a rum and cola?” Nate snorted a little as he gestured to get the attention of the bartender.
“So what if it is?” Mia asked as she set her glass down on a napkin that rested on the cherry mahogany wood bar.
“Oh nothing, really. I just thought your drink of choice would be more interesting.”
“Sorry, they were all out of absinthe.” As Mia tapped her long acrylic fingernail on the bar, the restaurant pager buzzed between them. “That's our table, get your drink and come on.” Mia slid off the stool and headed in the direction of the hostess station.
Is what they say about black women true? Are they always in control, always giving orders? Unable to leave things to someone else? Then again, she did let me control this entire night? What is this anyway? A business meeting or a date? Nate watched Mia walk away with her silky red dress playing tug of war against every curvy movement she made. Whatever her intentions, I’m starting to like her beveled edges.
“What can I get you?” The bartender asked interrupting Nate’s dirty thoughts as he picked up Mia's empty glass.
Nate turned away from Mia’s retreating back and turned to face the bartender. “I’d like a drink with absinthe, if I can get it.”
The bartender let a smile briefly cross his lips as he leaned into the bar. “Who said you could get that here?”
“Let’s just say I’m not new to the area. Whatduya say?” Nate leaned into his side of the bar mimicking the bartender’s stance.
“I thought you looked familiar, but one can never be too sure. Anyway, I think I might have some Absente instead?”
Before Nate could respond, Mia appeared next to him at the bar. “Haven’t you ordered that drink yet?”
Leaving Mia’s question dangling between them, Nate kept his eyes on the bartender. “Look barkeep, I’m not one for substitutes. Why are you giving me a hard time? It’s not like the stuff is banned anymore. Please see what you can do. I’m sure it won’t be my only one for the night, so it’ll be worth your while, understand?” The bartender nodded with a smirk as he headed to the back of the bar.
“You can’t get crack in a shot glass, Nate. What’s taking you so long? I expected shortly that would you be coming up behind me.” Mia continued.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Nate said turning away from the bar displaying a smirk of his own.
“Yeah Nate, just like at work.” Mia replied with a wink. “Now hurry up, I want to order. I’m starved.” Mia turned and began to walk in the direction from which she came.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Nate turned back to the bar and waited for his drink. After a few more minutes, the bartender came back with a V-shaped glass with a bubble just above the stem filled to the rim. “Ah, you're a gem. But you wouldn’t be trying to snow me, would you? I’ll know if there’s Absente in here instead of the real stuff.”
“Look man, Absente is the best I can do. If you know so much about it, then you know that the Absinthe flood gates are not bursting open just because the drink is no longer illegal in the U.S.” The bartender gave a slow tight wink.
“I gotcha...” Nate said aloud and then leaned into the bartender and whispered, “then why the hassle?”
“Look buddy, customers like the myth and the danger of absinthe. I give ‘em a show, I sell more drinks.”
“OK, OK, I know a good bartender when I see one. Put this on the dinner tab and see that our server sends over a couple of these drinks for my lady friend and me.”
“I see you’re a man with a plan. Your lady friend seems pretty sharp, but the poor girl won’t know what hit her if you can get her to drink the stuff I’ll be sending over.”
“Once dinner is through, I’m sure she won’t be able to resist my plans for the evening." Nate slid a twenty dollar bill across the bar and then shot the bartender a megawatt smile as he picked up his drink and headed in Mia’s footsteps.
As he rounded the corner, Nate spotted Mia sitting at a table against the back wall of the restaurant’s main dining room. “What's the matter, the remarkable Mia Simpson couldn’t get us a better table?” Nate pulled out a chair opposite Mia and sat down, resting his drink on the table.
“Not at all. I thought we might need some privacy in case we started talking about the show.”
“If they didn’t mob you upon entering the restaurant, I don’t think it will matter now.” Nate took a sip of his drink as he looked around the room. The bitter licorice taste stung his taste buds and caused a slight burning as it seeped along his esophagus into his chest. He could only imagine what it would taste like without the sugar cube and ice water to balance things out a bit.
“You might be surprised, Nate Long, but I think we’re on the verge of becoming household names. Anyway, what’s that you’re drinking?”
“Oh, just a little concoction the bartender made for me.” Nate answered as he held up the glass between them.
“Well it looks like low-fat milk in a pretentious liquor glass.”
“I assure you, it’s not milk. But instead of harassing me about my drink, why don’t you tell me why we’re really here?”
“I thought I already told you on the phone.” Mia began playing with the lemon in her water glass.
“I know how we started out and while I admit things are less strained these days, I think dinner out alone might be a little premature.”
“What are you afraid of Nate?” Mia’s lips transformed into a slow measured smile.
Underneath the table, Nate felt her toes work their way under his pant leg.
“When you said you were hungry, I assumed were referring to dinner.”
“What, Nate? I’m just being friendly.”
"Friendly?" Nate laughed softly. Keeping one hand wrapped around his drink, Nate reached for Mia’s foot that was now making its way between his knees.
“Why are you laughing at me?” Mia played with the stem of her water glass.
“Your attempts at seduction are just as tired as your drink selections. If this is your idea of flirtation, then I think you've spent too much time working the reality show circuit.”
“Why don't you give a girl a break?” Mia pulled her foot from Nate’s grip and crossed her ankles beneath her chair.
“Why does that request seem like a double entendre?”
“Well, since you mention it, is there any chance I can convince you to tell me what you have planned for my loft?” Mia hoped to crack Nate’s mental safe in a coyer manner, but he seemed to see right through her.
“Not unless you give me the dirt on the demise of your reality show run.”
“You’re definitely a hard man to win over Nate Long.” Mia said as she wrapped her arms across her chest.
“Ah, don’t do that Mia. I hate to see a woman pout.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Mia shot back.
“I’m just curious that all. How is it that a boyfriend of five years didn’t know his girlfriend was prancing around on national television trying to outwit desper
ate tramps for the affections of eligible, egotistical, sociopathic millionaires all in the name of fame?”
“If you must know, Michael was a top business executive. The only reality shows he watched involved venture capitalists trying to swipe potentially lucrative businesses from unaware, incompetent business owners.”
“OK then, how did he find out.”
“The former owner of the latest business he took over had one of the producers from my reality show as a client. When the producer went to Michael’s office for a business meeting, he saw a picture of me on his desk. I think you can imagine what happened after that.”
Nate looked down at his drink to avoid staring at the pain in Mia’s eyes. “Let’s just enjoy our drinks and decide what to eat, OK Mia?” With that Nate handed Mia a menu and then began looking at his own.
***
“That was probably the best salmon I’ve ever had. You know, Nate, I’m not buying this hard-ass act of yours,” Mia replied as she placed her knife and fork diagonally across her dinner plate. Nate smiled as he took the final sip of his third drink of the night. “I mean it. You selected this great restaurant with amazing food and addictive drinks. This doesn't feel like work at all.”
“Well good, but we’re not done yet. Wait till you try the chocolate cherry cheesecake. Hey, why don’t we have more drinks to go with it? I’m tired of watching you play with your water glass.” Nate signaled their server before Mia could reply.
“Are you ready for dessert, sir?” The server asked as he stood patiently beside Nate.
“Yes, we'll both have your chocolate cherry cheesecake.”
“Absolutely.”
“Great. and we’d like another round of drinks please, “ Nate continued.
“Ah sir, I understand from the bartender that he has a special drink order to be served after you finished your dinner. Would you like that now?”
“Yes, thank you very much.” Nate smiled as the server cleared away the dinner plates.