The tour down memory lane always included teasers about the parties she held in the brownstone. Claretta Rose respected the privacy of all her guests that crossed her threshold. Sometimes, Torri tried to piece the clues together and figure out who was behind the secret. Then it was time for her favorite stop on the tour — the photos. Her grandmother pulled out floral, spiral-bound albums filled with white, scalloped-edged, black and white, sepia-toned images stuck to its pages. The photos gave new life to the party stories. There were a few gems of Claretta Rose singing at the Cotton Club and pages filled with her with Lena Horne, Duke Ellington and even Langston Hughes.
The brownstone represented not just her history but Harlem’s, too. For that reason, Torri dedicated the brownstone’s main floor in memory of her grandmother. Grateful for her mother’s blessing, Torri intended to display her grandmother’s pictures in the gallery along with examples of her own work.
Torri took a deep breath and headed for the bathroom. It was her sanctuary. The one room she relaxed undisturbed. There, she focused her thoughts and developed new ideas. She ensured the room included all the comforts necessary for ultimate relaxation. The walls were eggshell white with a navy blue marbleized border, trimmed in gold. She installed a six-jet hot tub along with a separate shower. The navy blue hot tub had brass fixtures. The frosted shower doors were trimmed with golden silhouettes of an Egyptian queen. Blue and gold candles filled the room.
After a quick shower, Torri slipped into a white and sapphire blue floral maxi-dress. A sweetheart neckline revealed a hint of what nature blessed her with. She twisted her long corkscrew curls into a loose bun. She donned diamond stud earrings and along with her gold locket. Torri, like her mother, always stepped out in style. Something they each adopted from the family matriarch.
On her way out, Torri ran into Jasmine, who just returned from her daily run around Marcus Garvey Park. Her girlfriend wiped the glow from her face and neck. Jasmine was flawless. Her skin regiment did wonders. She’d probably look twenty for the rest of her life. Running kept her lean. Too lean in Torri’s opinion. Jasmine lost at least 25 or more pounds since her husband, Ray, was killed two years ago. But, she could still pass as Kerry Washington’s sister.
“Hey lady, if I knew you were up so early I would’ve asked you to run with me.”
“Girl, you know that’s your thing. I’ll stick to my Tai Bo.” Torri snickered and threw a few air punches.
“No. You need to toss your mama’s old DVD and try SoulCycle or even Zumba would be better. But, you look good, as always. I don’t know how those young men concentrate and learn anything from a professor with your looks.”
“Do I detect a bit of jealousy?”
“Girl please, your students are way too young for me.”
“They’re legal!” Torri teased.
Jasmine joined Torri in laughter. “There’s a name for you.”
“Oh no. I’m too young to be a cougar.”
“Always in denial. Girl, we’re getting up there. However, you’re still single. Enjoy.”
“You’re single, too. I don’t see you out there enjoying yourself.”
“I’m a widow, Tor. There’s a difference. No man is interested in dating a woman that’s lost her husband.” She glanced at her wedding ring. “Trust me.”
“This discussion is far from over. I’m meeting my mother for lunch. Then we’re shopping for my dress for the opening. Maybe you can join us.”
“Maybe next time. Besides, I bought my gown three weeks ago. Please tell me why you always wait for the last minute.”
“It’s a habit I can’t break. By the way, I didn’t forget about going over the photos I took at the community center.”
“Thanks, again. I’m forever grateful for how your photos helped us raise enough funds to finish building the basketball court. It would be great to expand what we have to offer now.”
“Jazz, you’re family. The center is an important part of the community. I’m always here to help you.” Torri wrinkled her nose. “I’d hug you...but you’re just a bit sweaty.”
Jasmine fanned her face. “You’re right. I better go in and shower.” She paused before she jogged up the stairs. “Torri, as your BFF, I just want to offer a piece of advice. Between your classes, the gallery and helping at the center, you work too hard. After this opening, take some time for yourself.”
Torri huffed at her friend’s word of advice. “Talk to you later, Jazz.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. A package came while you were out yesterday. It’s in my apartment.”
Torri clutched her hands against her stomach. “A package? How big? Did you see who delivered it?”
“Girl, relax. It’s not ticking, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Torri was worried but she was running late. The package would have to wait a few more hours.
New York University
The lens of her camera provided an escape for Torri. She forgot about her world and became part of someone else’s. The classroom granted her a similar distraction. But, the three-hour session ended and reality set in. On this Thursday, she faced shopping for a gown for the most important night of her life with no idea where to begin. She felt relieved when her mother offered her assistance. One thing her mother knew how to do was shop.
Torri arranged to meet her mother on NYU’s campus. They’d decide where to head to from there. Torri was just about to call Cliff about hiring security, when her mother entered the lobby. Lynette Taylor, at 5’10, was tall for a woman and carried her height well. She kept her natural reddish-brown, curly hair shoulder length. Her honey-brown skin remained wrinkle-free. You couldn’t tell she pushed fifty-nine. She always dressed her best, even for a simple shopping spree. She strolled over to Torri in a stunning pair of white ankle lengthed pants with an adorable orange wrap top decorated with large white polka dots.
“Are you ready to go? I’m starving.” Lynette tugged on her daughter’s arm.
“Mom, you’re always hungry. I don’t know how you stay so slim.”
“That’s my secret. Now, tell me why you always wait until the last minute to shop.”
“Why break tradition?” Torri giggled and recalled the same conversation with Jasmine earlier.
Arm in arm, they strutted out of the building like Thelma and Louise about to start trouble. A security guard approached them.
“Good afternoon, Miss Torri. You didn’t tell me you had a sister.” He kissed Lynette’s hand.
Lynette blushed.
“William, meet my mother, Lynette Taylor.” It wasn’t the first time someone mistook them for sisters. At times, Lynette treated Torri more like a sister than a daughter; she didn’t have any sisters of her own.
“Shut up!” William responded in disbelief.
“Pleased to meet you, William. It’s nice to know a gentleman as kind as you is keeping an eye on my daughter.” Lynette purred.
William held on to her hand. “Who’s watching over you?”
Lynette just smiled, removed her hand from his grasp and waved goodbye.
“Mom! Really? You were flirting? You know he’s going to bug me about you every day.” Torri huffed at the thought of it.
“Take it easy.” Her mother grinned. “I was just being polite.”
“Sure. He’s probably in La La Land right now. When was the last time you dated anyway?”
“Torri, baby, do you really want to talk about dating?” She challenged.
“Fine.” Her mother was sure to bring up Marcus. “Let’s go eat.”
They sat as soon as they arrived at the restaurant. Sushi Samba was one of Torri’s favorite restaurants. Brazilian music paired with sushi thrilled her palate. It was the first time she brought her mother with her. Lynette appeared to love it. She grinned the entire time she read over the menu as she rocked to the music. Torri ordere
d Miso-marinated Chilean sea bass for herself and Chicken Teriyaki Samba Style, accompanied by a side of mashed Peruvian potatoes, for her mother.
While they waited for their meal, Lynette toasted her daughter’s success with a glass of white wine.
“Mama, I want to apologize for being so distant the last few weeks.”
“It’s okay, baby. I understand. The gallery is going to be wonderful.” Her mother-tone slipped in. “I just hope after all of this you will slow down.”
“Oh no. Mom, not this again.” Exasperation laced her voice as she wiped her mouth with the napkin.
“Torri, just hear me out.” Lynette pressed. “You have completely buried yourself in your work. Granted everything you do is a success and it keeps you happy for now. But, what about later?”
“Mom…” Torri tried to interrupt.
“You haven’t mentioned being interested in anyone since college. Torri, give yourself a chance. You cannot hold what happened with your father and me against every man. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, successful young woman.”
“Mom, I don’t want to have this discussion. Unless, you want to tell me about your last date.”
Lynette shifted in her seat. “This is not about me.”
“I think it is. Whatever happened between you and my father hurt you so badly that you never dated again.”
“Not true.”
“Name one time, mom.” She paused for a brief moment. “See. I’m not the one running away from love. I think you are.”
“I opted to raise you and your brother alone. Having a relationship was not my priority. That was my choice. I was stubborn. Don’t be like me, Torri.”
“You chose us and I’m choosing my career. Now, let’s get my dress so I can knock ‘em dead tomorrow night.”
Lynette continued. “I’ll leave it alone for now, but let me say this, when love finds you, and it will, don’t fight it.”
Torri frowned at her mother; she had to get the last word. Yet, she had a point, maybe she should give Marcus a chance. After she indulged in her favorite dessert, Warm Banana Chocolate Cake, and picked out the perfect gown, she’d pay her sexy business associate a visit.
Chapter Three
“Watch the closing doors.” The prerecorded message warned, accompanied by a melodic tone.
Torri squeezed onto the train, just as the doors closed. In an instant, she regretted the choice. It felt a hundred degrees hotter than it was outside. Thank goodness, she’d only have to suffer for a few stops. She was glad the boutique offered to have the dress delivered. Sweat dripped between the swells of her breasts and along her spine. An unpleasant scent from the corner of the train car assaulted her senses. Torri tasted the repulsion gathered at the back of her throat.
The train screeched into the station and the door slid open. Eager for a breath of fresh air, Torri jumped off the train before the doors shut. She preferred to walk the rest of the way rather than suffer in the sweatbox. Besides, it gave her time to contemplate what she was about to do -- accept Marcus’ offer. Dating Marcus couldn’t hurt. She knew his likes and dislikes. She’d met his parents at a fundraiser earlier in the year. Torri’s mother adored him. Her brother was cool with him. Torri admired that he exposed his romantic side the night before and he was a decent kisser.
Perhaps it was time to break her rule about dating close friends. Torri’s rule made sense after she suffered from a broken heart, not long after high school. She was a teenager then, but the pain and confusion closed her heart to the possibility of love. Marcus deserved a chance and so did she.
Torri emerged from the depths of the torturous subway system. Cool air escaped from a deli near the subway steps. She halted as the coolness wrapped around her, seduced her. Torri continued. She feared, if she stopped much longer she may chicken out or, if she waited too long Marcus might change his mind.
A block away from Marcus’s studio, Torri spotted what looked like the Escalade from the previous night. Not many New Yorkers drove around with a Boston Red Sox banner in their rear window. It parked in front of November Rain. She needed the license plate number. Cliff could have it traced. Torri crossed against the light. Her heart skipped a beat with every angry honk. The champagne-colored door eased open and the driver jumped from the Escalade. Torri trembled. Long, dark hair covered his face. He brushed it aside and she caught a glimpse of his profile before he strolled into the restaurant.
“Get out of the way, lady!” An impatient driver’s hand glued to the horn.
Torri didn’t realize she’d stopped in the middle of the street when she caught sight of her stalker. He had to be at least 6’1” maybe 6’2”. His t-shirt and jeans hugged his strong, rugged structure. She shook off her sudden awareness of her pounding heartbeat and rushed past the cars that granted her a path to her mystery man. Torri seethed with a combination of mounting rage and curiosity. She bolted through the doors.
The hostess approached her. “Can I help you, Miss?”
Torri nudged past her and advanced toward the man. “Do I know you?”
The stranger spun around. Her eyes connected with his. She glanced away from his deep, dark eyes and gazed upon his smooth caramel skin and the chiseled physique that his attire failed to disguise. A gamut of emotions surged through her the instant she recognized him. Torri’s initial impulse was to check every inch of him again to make sure he was okay. But, he didn’t deserve her mercy. Besides, she could tell he was fine; just hiding in the shadows for the last fifteen years.
“Torri.”
“Antonio?” She couldn’t hide the quiver in her voice.
“I can explain.”
Her legs trembled as he drew closer. She inched back. “How long have you been following me?”
“Believe me, last night was the first time I’d seen you in fifteen years.”
The trace of a goatee framed the cleft in his chin amplifying a sex appeal she wished she could ignore just for a moment.
“I know how long it’s been.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I owed that to you.”
“Owed that to me?”
Her thoughts scrambled to understand. He couldn’t be serious. Did he care about her feelings when he vanished without a word? At least, he had the courtesy to acknowledge that if she wasn’t okay, it was his fault. And, anything he owed her, well that, expired long ago.
“It sounds crazy, Torri, I know.”
“Following me and staking out in front of my house is crazy.”
“When I saw you my heart missed a beat because I’ve missed you all this time. I wasn’t sure how to approach you.”
“I’m not sure that you missed me, but hello would have been a nice place to start.”
“C’mon, Torri.You know it wouldn’t have been that easy.” He shifted toward her again.
“Why not?” She wasn’t sure why, but her heart fluttered as he moved closer. “Were you here on a date last night?” Or married, she wondered at the same time.
“No, but it’s clear you were. The roses were a nice touch.”
She couldn’t understand how he knew so much about her night and she never saw him. Her temperature rose at the thought of him lurking in a corner of the restaurant watching her instead of reuniting with her. She assumed his guilt kept him hidden in the shame because he never expected to see the woman he essentially dumped at seventeen years old.
“You don’t have the right to stalk me? You made your choice a long time ago.”
“Like I said, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Were you hiding in the shadows when you stood me up for our high school graduation? Did you watch Jasmine console me instead of showing your face?” Her heart pounded like an angry bass drum.
His eyes traveled to her neck. She watched him draw in a deep breath and knew he viewed the locket as a s
ign that she missed him, too. Antonio reached for her shoulder. In that moment, his touch carried her back in time.
“Torri?”
“You coward! Were you afraid I’d fallen apart without you?”
Torri shrugged her way back to reality. She didn’t wait for his answer. She didn’t want it. “As you can see I’m fine, so you can stop following me.”
Torri tumbled out of the restaurant into a cab waiting out front.
“Ms. Colon?” The driver inquired.
She lied with a quick nod. Ms. Colon would have to call another cab.
“Where to?”
She squeezed her lids shut. “Anywhere.”
“Excuse me?”
“132nd and Fifth.”
Torri collapsed against the cool leather as the car pulled away. She unclenched her hands and reached around her neck. She removed the locket for the first time in fifteen years and shoved it into her purse.
Antonio stood like a deer in headlights and Torri was the truck that struck him. A hit and run. The intense encounter took a brief moment to sink in. Antonio darted after his assailant and knocked over a pizza delivery boy on his bike in the process. He knew it was too late when a cab pulled away. Antonio helped pick up the pizzas and handed the teenager fifty bucks to cover the loss. He shoved his hands into his pockets. He just hoped another opportunity would present itself. He needed a chance to explain.
Antonio burst back into November Rain. Delilah rushed to his side.
“Are you okay?” She brushed his arm.
“Sorry, Delilah. I’m fine. Where were we?”
“Are you kidding me? We can’t skip what just happened. Wasn’t that Ms. Taylor?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you knew each other.”
“It was a long time ago.”
November Rain Page 2