Make a Scene
Page 7
Once she’d wiped the frosting from her face and hands, they made their way to the wall of fame.
“Folks usually do a fun pose,” Graham said, pointing to the frames with pictures of people jumping in the air, standing on the bar, and riding piggyback.
The two of them shuffled around each other, lifted their arms, and twisted their bodies, trying to find a suitable position.
“Why don’t I dip you?” Duncan asked.
“That’s fine,” she said, eliminating almost all the space between them.
He didn’t breathe as she wrapped both arms around his torso. When he placed his hand on her back, the heat of her skin traveled past the thin blouse she wore. This was the closest they’d ever been.
“Don’t drop me,” she whispered.
Duncan moved her backward and bent into his left leg. “No chance.”
She flinched, but after several seconds of hovering over the floor at an angle, her face broke into a smile.
After the photo had been taken and forms signed, Retta held up their little Dollar Store trophy. “Your glory, sir.”
They each gave the long-suffering waiter a hearty handshake and a tip before returning to their seats for their belongings. The rain had stopped, but he couldn’t be sure when it had happened.
“I don’t think we’ll be catching any busses,” Retta said, holding up her phone to show it was a little past eleven.
When their Uber arrived, they shoved themselves and the human-sized bird plushie into the back seat. It was nearly impossible for them to sit without physical contact. Her leg was practically in his lap, and he had to swing his arm over her headrest to make more room.
He forced himself to watch the lights of the city run together in a kaleidoscopic haze to avoid looking at her. It was the only way he could ignore her weight against his body.
But the strategy was abandoned when Retta turned to him and said, “You smell like cake.”
She was so close. It would take but a slight tilt forward for him to kiss her. “You do too.”
Laughing, she sunk deeper into the seat. “I’m glad this went well.”
“I was nervous there for a second with your sketchy bowling alley,” he said, closing his fist against the sudden desire to play with her hair that tickled his forearm.
She smiled at him and playfully elbowed his side. They should’ve looked away then and finished the trip in amiable silence, but her smile faded as their gazes remained locked. He leaned in, beckoned by the heat of her body and the sweet scent of her skin. At this point, he didn’t care what his hypothetical fake dating guidebook would say, he wanted to kiss her.
And he would have done it, if she hadn’t, in the next instant, licked his right cheek. The droning radio was the only distinguishable sound for many seconds.
“Ah, you had frosting,” she said, fidgeting with her glasses.
He nodded like it was a sensible explanation and as if his heart wasn’t racing. The cogs in his brain ground to a halt, and he couldn’t formulate a response before the car pulled up in front of her apartment complex.
Retta pushed her door open and slipped out with the bird plushie in hand. “Sorry about the…” She touched her face. “Have a good night.”
She walked through the security door and disappeared within the building. He was so caught up replaying what had happened, he almost missed it when the driver asked, “Where to next, sir?”
Chapter Nine
Sitting in Kym’s kitchen, Retta swiped some raisins from a bowl on the counter. It was safe to say her friend had officially entered nesting mode. The living room had baby gear in different stages of construction, stacks of books crowded the dining table, and the house had already been baby proofed. Retta had offered to help her get organized, but she was having none of it.
“How’re things with Steve?” Kym asked as she removed her second tray of cookies from the oven.
It took several seconds for Retta to remember who the hell Steve was. Why did it feel like a lifetime ago?
Retta cleared her throat. “Ah, he ghosted me.”
Her friend spun around with a glob of cookie dough in her hand. “Asshole. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“That doesn’t bode well for your ‘sexy date for my cousin’s wedding who happens to be marrying my ex-boyfriend’ mission,” Kym said.
“We should workshop that title.”
“Really? I think it rolls off the tongue,” Kym said, shrugging. “So, what’s next? Do I need to take time off after all?”
“You mean to give birth? Yeah, probably,” Retta said, staring pointedly at her friend’s belly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got it figured out.”
Kym squinted and pointed a spatula at Retta like a sword. “What’re you not telling me?”
Retta took another handful of raisins to emote casualness and effortlessness before she said, “I’m kinda seeing someone.”
Her friend’s arm dropped. “That’s great.”
She nodded, but before she could reveal the whole truth, a voice from the front of Kym’s house said, “Hey, sorry I’m late.”
The distinct click of heels was detectable before their friend Nia fully entered the room in a short dress that swung about her curvy body.
“Who knew you can develop a fear of driving after not doing it for months?” Nia asked as she set her expensive purse and two brightly colored shopping bags on the chair.
Nia’s life was particularly glamorous, think Fashion Week and other gigs that took her all around the world.
Retta often thought she was busy and barely keeping it together, but seeing her friend somehow manage a hectic schedule while still wearing high heels, kept her grateful that she could at least wear Crocs to work.
“Oh my God, you’re so pregnant,” Nia said, going over to Kym to hug her and marvel at her growing midsection.
“Forget about my big ass belly. Those shoes,” Kym said pointing at Nia’s stilettos.
Nia kicked up her heel. “These? They were sent to me last month. Speaking of the perks of my job…” She retrieved the bags she’d entered with and handed each of them one.
“Babe, you didn’t have to,” Kym said, already pulling the pretty tissue paper apart to reveal a beautiful cashmere baby blanket, sweater, and hat set.
Retta found a lovely pair of small hoop earrings that she gaped at for a while before asking, “Girl, how much did these cost?”
Nia waved them off. “I told you, perks of the job.”
They all hugged before Kym asked, “How was your trip?”
“Oh, a delayed flight, lost luggage, and a runway show that was an absolute fail, but I’m off to Cape Town soon, so that’s exciting.”
Retta looked up, noting the weariness in her friend’s voice. And now that she was paying attention, she could see the bags under her eyes. All the perfectly applied makeup in the world couldn’t hide that. Kym and Retta exchanged a look.
“Don’t burn out, okay?” Kym said, placing another tray of dough into the oven.
“Impossible. I’m living my dream,” Nia said, laughing. “But enough about me. I’ve missed you guys. What’s been going on?”
“Well,” Kym said, taking the hint that Nia no longer wanted to be bugged about her horrendous work-life balance. “Len and I finally agreed that we’d hyphenate the baby’s last name. It didn’t sit right with me to give our child his last name when we’re not even married.”
“Oh, I like that idea. And your last names are short enough,” Nia said as she reached for a cookie on the cooling rack. She narrowly missed hitting the light fixture above the island with her intricately styled faux locs.
“Also, Ret’s seeing someone.”
“What?” Nia said, jerking her head to look at Retta. “Who?”
“He owns the boxing gym next door to Dutch,” Retta said. “But—”
“An athlete?” Kym asked, her eyes widened. “That’s a choice.”
Kym’s college
boyfriend had been a football player. She had feelings about it.
“Wait,” Nia said, drawing out the word. “The gym you were complaining about a couple of weeks ago?”
“Yeah,” Retta said, looking between her friends. There really wasn’t a graceful way to relay the next piece of information. She just had to come out and say it. “But our relationship is, one might say, unconventional? We made an agreement that he’ll attend Chris’s wedding with me as my boyfriend, and I’ll give him my parking spot in return.”
Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm went off as her friends’ mouths fell open. Retta watched them sit motionless for a while before Kym turned to Nia and asked, “I didn’t hear that correctly, did I?”
Nia closed her mouth then opened it again. “Can you expand on this a little?”
After going into more detail, Retta said, “It’s not really that big a deal.”
“How's that not a big deal? You’re faking an entire relationship,” Kym said.
Retta huffed. “See, I was debating on not telling you because I knew you would judge—”
“Okay, okay,” Nia said, lifting her hands. “Everyone relax. Take a breath.” After a lengthy pause, Nia spoke, “He broke your heart, and you want to show you’re doing better without him. I get it.”
Sighing, Kym said, “It’s wild how you’re going about it, but if you need this wedding to close the chapter with Chris, I support you.”
“Thank you.”
“What’s he like?” Nia asked.
Retta hesitated before saying, “Gorgeous. Tall and dark-skinned. Good sense of humor.” She looked out the kitchen window, really visualizing Duncan now. “Thoughtful. He has this energy that makes you want to get closer.”
It was in the way he carried himself—the tilt of his chin, the way he leveled his gaze at you when you spoke, and his forearms. He had incredible forearms.
“It sounds like you really like him,” Nia said.
“Yeah, and how does this thing work? Are you two sleeping together?” Kym asked.
Straightening in her seat, Retta said, “It’s one hundred percent professional…” She folded her hands in front of her on the counter. “But I did lick his face.”
Nia laughed. “What? Why?”
“I thought he was going to kiss me. Then I realized it might be in my head. But it definitely looked like I was leaning in for a kiss, so I panicked and licked some frosting that was left from the cake eating contest we’d done.”
“Well, this doesn’t sound very professional,” Kym said into her mug.
“Yeah, I might’ve messed things up. I have no idea if he wants to continue with this agreement. He might be too weirded out.”
Her guard had dropped. She blamed the sugar high.
“Don’t overthink it,” Nia said. “Touch base and confirm that things are still going according to plan.”
Retta let her friend’s sensible words settle over her. “You’re right.”
Kym nodded. “Okay, but more on this cake eating contest.”
Duncan’s sister had joined him for one of his classes again, and he was now showing her all the advantages of having a sibling who owned a gym.
“Pressed juice, water, or kombucha?” Duncan asked, looking into the staff room refrigerator.
“Water,” Gwen replied.
They stood near the table, and Duncan knew what his sister was about to ask before she said anything.
“So, have you started writing your speech?”
Duncan rubbed the back of his neck. “Kinda.”
He’d not even thought about it yet.
“Let me guess. You’ve finished and are now going back to add iambic pentameter and make it rhyme,” he said.
Gwen rolled her eyes. “Actually, I’m worried about it.”
He frowned. “Why? Just string a few words together about the passage of time and happiness.”
“See, that’s exactly why I have to stress over it. I don’t even know if you’ll show up to the party let alone write a good speech.”
Duncan shrugged. “I’ll be there. I haven’t decided if I want to commit to speaking though.”
“That means there’s more pressure on me to come up with something profound.”
He sighed. Gwen had always been willing to add stress to her life to maintain harmony or make others happy. It was evident from her career path to her choice in boyfriends. “If I promise I’ll write something, will you chill?”
She broke into a grin. “Yes.”
“Fine.”
“Good.” Gwen punched his shoulder. “And thank you.”
“Whatever,” he said.
As Duncan was handing his sister some promotional pens for her to take and share, Anthony burst through the staff room doors.
“What’s taking you so long—” The big man skidded to a stop.
The hard planes of his business partner’s face softened ever so slightly when he spotted Gwen.
“Hey, Tony,” his sister said to Anthony.
Nobody in the entire world, that Duncan knew of, could get away with calling his best friend that. Ever since he’d known him, if anyone had slipped and shortened his name to Tony, he’d scowl and swiftly correct them. He assumed Anthony let it slide with Gwen simply on the strength of the two men’s friendship.
“I didn’t know you were coming in today,” Anthony said, his eyes remaining steady on Gwen. “Is it your first class?”
“No, I was here a couple of weeks ago,” she replied. “You guys have done an amazing job with this place.”
“Thanks,” Anthony said, smiling in a way that exposed his teeth.
Duncan frowned. The movement looked as unnatural as cracking plaster.
“I’ll have to come in and try one of your classes,” Gwen said.
“Yeah, for sure,” Anthony replied, placing his hands on his hips. “Whenever you want to, let me know. Even if it’s last minute, I’ll put you on the schedule.”
Gwen smiled. “I’ll remember that.”
A silence enveloped all three of them at that moment. Duncan cut through it by saying, “Okay, then, I’ll walk you out.”
The bakery had been closed for more than an hour, and Retta had spent most of that time watching a technician analyze and tinker with her water heater. Her landlord had finally sent someone over, and she was hoping the problem would be fixed with a twist of a bolt and a quick squirt of oil.
“Mhm… Interesting. Okay, I see.”
She perked up, leaning over to see the man’s progress. When professionals were doing their work, Retta preferred to give them space. However, this specific man had arrived and admitted that he didn’t usually work with water heaters.
The technician finally emerged from the small room that held the apparatus and wiped his hands on a rag attached to his waist. “Well, you’re right. There’s a problem with your water heater.”
Retta nodded and looked at him expectantly.
“I don’t know what it is.”
Her shoulders dropped. “So, where do we go from here?”
“I’ll speak with my supervisor about bringing someone else up here to take a look.”
“Okay, how long will that take?”
“A week or two. Maybe more.”
Retta removed her glasses to relieve the pressure around the bridge of her nose. He gave her his card, and she thanked him before showing him out.
She quickly grabbed her bags, a basket of laundry, and locked up, not wanting to be in her store when the clamor started up again.
While she loaded her things into the back of her car, someone in the parking lot laughed. She knew who it belonged to, and a cursory glance over her shoulder confirmed that Duncan was standing there. It kind of disturbed her that she recognized his damn laugh already.
It had been several days since their date. She’d sent him her answers to the questionnaire, and he’d replied back with his and a smiley emoji. But other than that, she’d not interacted with him.
She needed to know either way.
As she approached the front entrance of the gym to wait, Duncan, by chance, turned and saw her. He stopped talking to the woman in front of him and shouted something that she didn’t quite catch.
“I thought you’d be long gone by now,” Duncan said once she closed the distance between them.
“I had a meeting with a technician for my water heater,” Retta said.
“How did that go?”
She sighed. “It should be cleared up soon.”
It looked like Duncan was going to ask her another question, but he must’ve remembered they weren’t alone. “Retta, this is my sister, Gwen.”
The woman looked like Duncan with her sharp cheekbones and dimpled smile. They shook hands.
Gwen looked between her and Duncan. “So, you are…”
“Neighbors,” Retta said before Duncan could even open his mouth. “I own the bakery next door to the gym.”
“Oh, I’ve been in there. I love the rhubarb galette.”
“Thank you,” Retta said.
Gwen smiled, and they exchanged a few more pleasantries before she hugged her brother and said, “I’m gonna head out. It was nice meeting you, Retta.”
Once she’d driven off, Duncan fully turned to her. He stuffed his hands into his jacket’s pockets.
“How’ve you been? I meant to text you,” he said.
Oh, here it comes. They always started with the text they’d wanted to send.
“Are we still on for our second date?” he asked.
“Second date?” she squeaked.
“I was dead serious about watching Rocky with you. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t introduce you to the best boxing movie of all time?”
Retta laughed, but her heart was beating rapidly. “Text me when you’re free. We might have to do it during the week or for a few hours on the weekend.”