“I’ll be back soon,” I assured her.
“All right. Drive safely.” She reached out for the handle and opened the door but stopped short of climbing out. Sparing a glance at me, she added, “I mean it, Janessa, be careful.”
“I will. I promise.” Drawing an invisible x over my heart with my finger, I said, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
She laughed. “You’re so immature.”
I laughed too. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Be careful.” She tossed over her shoulder just before she exited the car.
Chapter Fifteen
After dropping Audrey home, I drove to a nearby florist and purchased a small arrangement of beautiful white gardenias. Shortly thereafter, I drove to The Rose of Eden Cemetery, which was owned by my good ole father. He bought it years back and changed its name after my mother, Rosalie.
The cemetery was a private lot, which was kept locked at all times with the exception of a nine-to-five schedule where visitors were allowed in to pay their respects to the deceased. Paying my respects to those I’d lost was my main reason for being there. This was a ritual I usually did on my own. I wasn’t even sure my dad visited my mother’s grave anymore. Although, judging by the mysterious roses that appeared on her grave from time to time I could only assume he did. Roses were the only flower my father ever gifted Mom. I remember him saying once that they reminded him of her.
Just last week I’d dropped by to sit on my mother’s grave and think, which was something I did often, and was pleasantly surprised when I arrived and saw a beautiful rose arrangement of over twenty red roses. Maybe, just maybe, my father did have a heart after all. Perhaps all emotion hadn’t died with my mother.
I was eleven when Mom died of heart failure. She’d been born with some congenital defect that eventually took her life. Even though her death still affected me, especially during the time when I desperately needed a mother daughter talk, I preferred to remember her as she was when she was happy, smiling, laughing, fussing over me. I had enough sad memories and regrets to last me a lifetime, so easing some of my pain by recalling the happiest moments with my mother, more often than not, kept me going.
On my way into the cemetery, I greeted Bernard, who was in charge of overseeing the lot and continued on by when he returned the greeting. Already knowing by heart where to go, I walked down the path and to where my family’s plot was located, which was on the far northeast corner of the huge lot. Religiously almost, I pressed on, acknowledging briefly a group of mourners nearby, and picked up pace as I spotted the huge, rose shaped tombstone ahead.
As I did every time I came, I acknowledged my mother’s tombstone, gazing at it with a mixture of sadness and grief. The arrangement was still resting at the foot of the huge headstone, but the flowers were now quickly withering. If my father really brought them, I had no doubt he’d be around soon enough to bring more. If not, I could always make another trip to the florist sometime during the week.
Glancing at the slightly smaller headstone of an angel to my right, I stepped forward with the beautiful arrangement I’d brought and set it just beneath the angel’s feet before taking a step back to admire the name: Aiden Rowe. So tiny, so innocent. Never given a chance to truly succeed in life, and there was no one to blame for that but me.
It was the guilt of what I didn’t do that ate away at my soul as opposed to what I did do. I could have done things differently, but fear had kept me from doing what was best for him, and as a result, he paid with his life and I…well, became this soulless creature walking around with a hole where my heart should be.
Sitting on my mother’s grave, with my elbows resting on my knees, and my chin on the palms of my hands, I stared at the tiny tomb next to it, was where I allowed the weak side of me to show. To come to the surface. Because here no one could see me. No one could point out my faults. Only I could do that. But even as I brought up everything that was wrong with me, I realized no matter how much I grieved, or resented everything bad in my life—that part of me no one knew about—nothing would change.
This Janessa, the one everyone either hated or feared, came out of her shell five years ago. And she was here to stay. While I could admit that having such a nasty attitude gain me more enemies than friends, it was the only way I knew how to protect myself from the pain of the past. It was the only way I knew how to fight off all weak sentiments.
I hadn’t always been this tough, but this toughness helped me deal with a lot. It was better for everyone to assume I was immune to pain.
Kirk, with his actions had really hurt me, but I wasn’t so much hurt as I was disappointed. Twice now I’d fell for pretty words and empty promises and twice I’d been let down. The good thing about this was what I’d learned from it. I would never, ever give my all in a relationship. It just wasn’t worth it.
From now on, serious relationships—relationships in general were a thing of the past for me. No more complications. I had enough with those.
I gazed up at my mother’s headstone and sighed. If only she was present, I could ask her for advice. She had always been so good with those. I had no one to turn over for advice, and even though I could go to my friends any time I wanted, it just wasn’t the same. Delilah, Audrey, and Michaela were my age and viable to think as I did. And yes, that actually has happened before. They say great minds work a lot and well, we’d agreed on more things than I could count.
“Hey, Jannie,” Bernard’s voice called from behind me.
Jannie? God, no one had called me that in a long time.
I glanced back and found the older man standing just a couple a feet behind me, keys in hand. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to close up soon. Do you need a few more minutes?”
Once again, I hadn’t realized how long I sat there until Bernard came to tell me it was closing time. It happened every time I visited the cemetery. I’d get so lost in the memories of the past, the pain, the regret, that I’d lose all track of time.
“I think I’m done for today.” I straightened and picked myself off the tomb.
Bernard nodded and took a step back.
“Bernard?” I turned to face him. “Has my dad been around?” I asked, feeling the urge to satisfy that mystery once and for all, especially since I hadn’t bothered to ask before. I’d always been too distracted to even think to ask.
“He was here last week and brought those.” Bernard pointed to the roses sitting on my mother’s grave.
I nodded, knowing all along it had to be him. “Thanks, Bernard. I’ll see you again soon.”
The older man nodded and followed me out of the cemetery and to my car where he watched me drive away. He always accompanied me out, and once I drove off he usually locked the huge metal gates. As I glanced back through the rearview mirror, I saw him do just that.
***
By the time I arrived home Audrey had diner ready. Nothing fancy, just spaghetti and meatballs, but it was delicious. We ate together in the kitchen as we normally did, missing our third party of course. Although Audrey tried to hide it, I could tell she, too, wondered about Delilah and who she was seeing. The girl was keeping it a secret and it nagged at my brain not to know the reason for that. Since she was one of my best friends, pressuring her for an answer wouldn’t be appropriate so I had to wait for her to come forth on her own.
After offering to do the dishes, I joined Audrey in the living room, and we sat for about two hours watching reruns of American Idol. Even when it wasn’t my favorite thing to watch, I welcomed the distraction sitting down staring at the TV provided. It definitely kept me from thinking about my inner sorrows, or about Dakota for that matter.
Not long thereafter, I retired to my bathroom and took a nice, long bath, soaking in the water until the tips of my fingers resembled dried prunes.
From there I moved into my bedroom where I locked myself in, and, as surprising as it was, decided to start the research for an upcoming paper I had to write for
English Literature. So much work nearly bored me to death, but it also kept my mind from wondering to Dakota over and over again. Even when we’d barely known each other for three days, his presence had really impacted my life.
I had sought him out with the intention of using him to achieve a goal, but now I couldn’t think about him without bringing up how good it felt to be in his arms. Or how good of a kisser he was. With just one kiss I wanted him to throw me down on the floor, rip my clothes off, and use that delicious looking mouth on me in any way he wanted.
I could only assume that Dakota had been trying to warn me about our reaction to each other, which, if I were to look at it from his point of view, made perfect sense. Since he still had feelings for his bimbo of an ex-girlfriend, he didn’t want things to get out of hand between us because, he could only give so much.
Whatever he gave would have to be strictly physical. There would be no feelings or emotions involved because those were already reserved for someone else. And perhaps he figured that wasn’t okay with me. Or he simply didn’t want to hurt me in any way. After all, Kirk had already caused enough damage.
Yes, I could be sensitive if the need arose, but it was the thought of him still caring for that girl even after how she betrayed him what really bothered me. I mean, maybe I could get over a cheating bastard like Kirk in twenty four hours. But Dakota was probably the kind of guy who gave his all to his other half. He probably poured his heart and soul into the relationship—not that a girl like Margaret would appreciate something like that. She certainly acted as if she expected him to take her back whenever she decided to snap her fingers. And to be perfectly honest, he probably would. What he felt for her was clearly written in his eyes, and there was no denying the emotional turmoil brewing inside of him.
I had no way of knowing for sure but maybe the girl just got a little bored with him and decided to have some fun before their marriage took place. In my opinion, if she really didn’t want to get married yet, she should have just told Dakota. I would have.
If I were to look at things from my point of view, which I had to, there was one very important point in my favor: Dakota was attracted to me. He was fighting off an attraction to his partner in crime—me—probably with the belief that his five year relationship could be fixed. He probably didn’t want to start anything significant with me knowing that his heart wouldn’t be in it. This I could understand. What really confused me was my own attraction to him.
My inner she-devil raised her head and smiled as an idea crossed her head. What if, instead of giving Dakota some space, I seduced him? The tables would turn drastically if instead of pretending to have a relationship with him, I actually had one. Besides, there were no risks of a broken heart if my heart wasn’t involved.
The sound of my cell vibrating loudly on top of my computer desk brought me out of my thoughts. I stretched, arching my back as my hands shot up and reached for the ceiling. I’d been sitting on the damn chair so long my butt felt numb. Rubbing the haze created by staring at the computer screen for long hours out of my eyes, I pushed myself back with my feet and picked up my cell.
Unlocking the screen, I found a text message from an unknown number displayed in large black letters. For a second or two I just sat there and stared, not really understanding who the number belonged to, but when I read the message a second time, it dawned on me that the only person who had my number and I did not have in my contact list was Dakota.
And with the message reading, Are you still mad at me, I was pretty sure it had to be him.
Yes, I felt a strong sense of self satisfaction in knowing that he’d texted me. Because it meant that he wanted to communicate with me. He wanted to talk. He wasn’t ready to part ways with me, and I could use that to my convenience.
Realizing the importance of this development, I texted back: I was never mad at you.
The reply came right away.
So we can talk?
Smiling, I quickly replied with, I’d love it if we talked.
Good, because I want to see you.
I didn’t know if that was a request or if he was simply communicating a desire, but my response was almost automatic.
You need a ride?
No. A ride I got. But I think we should talk.
It was hard to say for sure, since we weren’t face to face, but it almost sounded as if he was desperate to talk to me. Maybe the way I peeled off the campus parking lot earlier had something to do with that.
We can talk. Do you want to come over?
I could have asked him to meet me anywhere else. Well, anyplace still open at – I gazed at the digital clock in my phone and noted the time: 10:45. Damn. Where had the hours gone?
I know it’s late, but do you mind?
My lips split into a grin. How could I mind? I wanted to see him too.
I don’t mind.
I’ll be there in five minutes then.
I jumped off the chair as soon as the text came through. I looked like I was getting ready for bed, and he was within a few minutes of knocking on my front door. My hair was tied back into a messy pony tail; I wore a pair of long pajama bottoms and a tank top. I had no time to sassy myself up.
Scrambling to text a quick message, asking him to message me as soon as he arrived, I set my phone down and hurriedly organized the desk. Though my room was immaculate, as always, my nerves became instantly rattled by the prospect of seeing him again. Especially since I’d been thinking about him literally seconds before his first text came through.
Scurrying to my walk-in closet, I went in search for my favorite perfume and sprayed some on my neck and the back of my wrists. Just as I stepped out of the closet, my phone vibrated. I picked it up and read a text from Dakota that announced his arrival. I responded by saying I’d be right down and tossed the phone on to the bed on my way to the door. Tossing one last glance over my shoulder to make sure nothing was out of place, I rushed out and practically flew down the stairs, across the hall and into the living room where Audrey and Delilah were busy watching TV.
“When did you get home?” I asked Delilah, who was sitting on the love seat, clad in her pajamas.
“About an hour ago,” she replied. “Didn’t you hear me talking with Audrey?”
“If I had, I wouldn’t be asking you when you got home.” I made a face at her.
“Where are you going?” she asked as I stepped toward the front door and unlocked it.
“I have a visitor,” I said just as I swung open the door.
Chapter Sixteen
My heart nearly stopped when I glanced out and didn’t immediately see Dakota standing there as I expected. But when I walked out to the front porch, I spotted him standing at the bottom of the steps, staring straight at me.
Wearing a leather jacket, a black button down shirt, blue jeans, and black boots, he really looked good enough to eat. So good in fact, I wanted to jump his bones right there. I wouldn’t, of course. But I wanted to. It was getting harder and harder for me to deny to myself the attraction I obviously felt for him.
How could I be so attracted to someone that wasn’t even my type? If anything, Dean, with his sexy smirk, and dangerous bad boy vibe was more like the type of guy I’d usually go for. But Dakota, with his calm, almost sweet demeanor really stood out. And I liked him. A lot.
“Hey.” he started up the stairs, and it wasn’t until he moved that I noticed a car going in reverse on my driveway, slowly backing out on to the street. “I got a ride here from a couple of friends from work.”
I met him at the top of the stairs. “I thought your shift ended at twelve.”
“It does. But we had a big brawl break out at the club, and the police had to be called.” He shook his head, his long black hair swaying from side to side. “We were forced to shut down early today.”
“Things got that bad?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I had to rough up a couple of guys.”
I had the sudden urge to reach out and touch his rugg
edly handsome face, but after what we had very briefly discussed earlier, I opted for folding my arms over my breasts instead.
“It sounds like you had a tough night.” As I gazed at him, I noted he really did look tired. Exhausted really. “Do you want to come in?”
“Well, I stopped by because I thought we should talk.”
“We can head over to the kitchen, but if you want more privacy we can always head up to my bedroom.” It sounded bad. The second the words left my mouth I realized that. But I honestly had no intention of jumping the poor guy’s bones. At least not tonight.
Dakota’s eyes traveled over me, slowly taking in my appearance. I waited with my breath stuck in my throat as his gaze returned to my face.
“You weren’t in bed already, were you?” he asked, seemingly concerned.
I smiled. “No. I was just finishing up on my research for an upcoming paper I have to write.”
He nodded. “Good. I was worried I was pushing things by texting so late.”
I shrugged. “Don’t be. I told you to text or call whenever you wanted.” I took a step back, suddenly requiring some distance. He not only looked good but he smelled great too. “So, what do you want to do?”
Dakota seemed to think over his response before he actually opened his mouth to say, “I think your bedroom should be fine.”
Holding back the grin trying to work its way out, I held out a hand to him and said, “Follow me.”
He slipped his big hand in mine and said nothing more as I led him inside the house. As soon as we set foot inside the living room, Dakota shut the door and we both turned to face two stunned roommates of mine.
“Hey, Dakota.” Delilah looked like she’d just seen a ghost. Her eyes traveled from Dakota to me then back to Dakota as if asking what he was doing there.
“Hey, girls.” He raised his one free hand in a greeting.
Payback is Sweet Page 15