by Rina Gray
“I’m sorry, baby. I believe you. I promise I worked it out before I read your email.”
“Oh, suuuuure. How convenient you suddenly believe me. Not when I practically begged you to believe me before.”
His anxiety spiked. He didn’t blame her distrust. He’d done nothing to earn it.
“Baby, let me make it up to you.”
“There is nothing you can do.” Her voice wobbled. “I didn’t answer to work things out. I answered to let you know that I never want to speak to you again. Do not come by my place. Do not call or text or email me. And unless absolutely necessary, do not speak to me at work.”
His heart plummeted. His fault. All his damn fault. Still, he wasn’t giving up. He was a fighter.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you, you’ll see. We can work this out.”
“Do not test me. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Goodbye, Nathaniel.”
She hung up, and he hung his head.
A pale hand slid a drink in front of him. He jerked his head and looked at the bartender. The bartender looked straight ahead, and with a white cloth in hand, buffed the counter. “On me. Sounds like you need another.”
“Yeah. I do.” He grabbed the drink and gulped. The whisky blazed a fiery path from his throat to his stomach.
“You’ll just have to win her back. You’ll have to do something epic, but you’ll figure it out.”
• • •
Tiana had been a woman of her word. It’d been almost a month, and he’d been back in the office for a few weeks. Any time he tried to come near her at work, she turned the corner. One day he got desperate and tricked Julia into planning a meeting to recap the results from Jake’s campaign. Tiana had faked a headache and had the intern be her proxy in communicating the numbers.
So now he was pulling out the big guns and meeting secretly with her best friend, Melanie. He’d tracked down her email from a media list database. She instantly replied and asked that they meet at a restaurant in secret.
He settled into the booth as he waited for Tiana’s enthusiastic friend. He was so glad she was on his side. That would make things so much easier. And he needed all the help he could get.
“I should castrate you.” He heard a low and harsh voice whisper from behind him. His body tensed as he turned.
Arms crossed, Melanie looked at him with undisguised disgust.
“I thought you were on my side?”
Shaking her head, she stomped to the other side of the booth, still standing. His eyes followed her angry path. “No, I came here to determine whether or not I want to risk ten to fifteen years behind bars. I heard prisons were nice these days. Three square meals, and I could still write in the slammer. Maybe I can create a blog. It’ll be the written version of the television show Snapped.”
He leaned in his seat. Damn if she didn’t seem like she was considering homicide.
“I should’ve let her lop off your head like the female dancing spider,” she muttered not too softly under her breath.
He didn’t have time for her crazy rambling. He needed to win his woman back.
“I love Tiana.”
“And?” She tapped her toes on the floor.
“And I want her back.”
“You want her?” She threw back her head and laughed. Her spirally curls bounced around her shoulders. “You know what my husband did to win me over?”
“No.”
“He asked me to marry him in front of thousands of people.” She leaned forward and pointed her finger at him. “What’s your plan? We need magic, drama, and romance. Tiana needs and deserves more than words and, furthermore, to comply with something you want.”
He gestured to the seat across from her. “I have an idea. An epic idea, and I need your help.”
“Fine.” She turned to her seat and settled. “Dazzle me.”
He leaned forward, and for the next hour they hashed out a plan.
Melanie nodded. “I’ve gotta admit. That’s a damn good plan.”
He grinned at her. “Excellent. We shoot for next Sunday. Central Park.”
“Why on a Sunday?”
Nathan shrugged. “It’s her favorite day of the week. Might as well stack the cards in my favor.”
“Good idea. See you then.” She rubbed her hands together. “You know, the word of the day was D-bag. But now, I’m inspired.” She snapped her fingers. “Orison is the word of the day.”
“What the hell does orison mean?”
“A fancy word for appeal. Prayer. You’re gonna need it.” She winked and walked away.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tiana smiled at Mel as they walked through Central Park. Her friend was buzzing for some reason. Tiana suspected she had good news to share. Is she already pregnant?
A brief prick of jealousy poked her chest. She would be happy for her friend, no doubt about it. But she was so dang lonely.
Her only close friend in the city was in newlywed bliss. And Nathan … Sighing, she nearly tripped over the memories that attacked her. She missed him.
But he was wrong, and she couldn’t allow him or anyone to have power over her emotions ever again.
Mel looked down at her watch and then glanced around.
Tiana stopped at the bench. “Girl, what is up with you?”
Her friend struggled to hide a smile. “Nothing.” Her voice squeaked.
Tiana rolled her eyes. “Sure, it’s nothing. And I’m the Queen of England.”
A trumpet heralded throughout the park. It sounded like one of the horns before the battle of Rohan in Lord of the Rings.
“Hear ye, hear ye.” A tall lanky man in a gray and pointy wizard hat stepped in front of her and her best friend. “Gather ’round as we take you through a journey. An epic journey to save Middle-Earth and to find a ring. The one true ring that will allow even the coldest of hearts to forgive and love again.”
A host of other people, dressed like hobbits and elves and dwarves, gathered in a semicircle around the wizard.
Garrett and Martha waved at her from a few feet away.
Tiana’s heart skipped a beat. What’s happening?
She turned to ask Mel, but she’d disappeared. A kid dressed as a hobbit tapped her shoulder and pulled up a chair, gesturing for her to be seated. Martha and Garret moved their chairs to sit beside Tiana. She rolled her eyes, but curiosity won out.
A clomp of hooves caught her attention. Seated astride a horse, Nathaniel wore a black leather cape on his shoulders. A sword—she suspected a fake one—was strapped along his back. A whisper of a five o’clock shadow covered his face. He didn’t smile or look at her. He’s in character.
Despite her reservations, a smile crept up her face. Nathan hated fantasy movies. But here he was, reenacting her favorite one in the middle of Central Park.
With new scenes that had nothing to do with the movie and made-up character names, Nathan had clearly given himself creative freedom over the script. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a bad rendition. So far she’d give it a B-minus. The actor playing Samwise Gamgee could use a bit more emotion.
But it didn’t matter; Nathan stole the show. In one scene, he actually looked at her as he stabbed an orc and yelled, “For Frodo!”
“My son is one talented man,” Garrett whispered in her ear.
She bit back a smile.
Finally, the friends reached the fires of Mordor, which was really a pile of sticks in the middle of the park. Instead of tossing the ring into the fire, Nathan turned around to face her.
“Fair Arwen.”
Tiana looked around. “Who, me?” She pointed to her chest.
“Aye, you, fair maiden,” he responded in a terrible Scottish accent.
Oh, Lord.
Garrett passed her prosthetic elf ears and a tiara. “Here, put these on, darlin.’
Her hands shook as she swung her attention from father to son.
A flash of nervousness robbed Nathan of his usual cockiness
.
“Take a chance on Nate, darlin’.”
Swallowing a tangled lump of anxiety, she nodded. She returned her attention to Nathan, giving him a weak smile as she slid on the elf ears and placed the tiara on her head.
He winked and then raised his sword in the air. Mel entered the scene from stage right. She, too, was decked out in an elf costume with a smirk on her face. Tiana had no doubt that Damien was recording this somewhere in the park.
Tiana’s breath caught in her throat when she noticed her friend was carrying a pillow with a ring box in the middle.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” Tiana clutched her heart.
Melanie waved and smiled. Then she kneeled, in Dramatic Melanie fashion, and thrust the pillow in the air.
Nathan lowered his sword, dropped to his knees, and then dropped the terrible accent. “Peaches. Will you make me the happiest man in Middle-Earth and beyond and marry me?”
“Nathan … I … I don’t know,” she whispered back.
Hurt briefly flashed on his face. Quickly it was placed with determination. She’d seen this expression before when he was fighting his opponent in the ring. Nathan was digging in and ready to fight. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“I’ve heard your apologies too many times, Nathan. And when you hear the same thing over and over and nothing changes, you dilute the sincerity. You wield your words like a weapon, and I’m tired of being attacked. I’m sick of—”
“I love you, Peaches,” he interrupted her rant. “You haven’t heard that from me before, have you?” He sighed. “That was my first mistake.”
Her heart twisted and squeezed. It’s a lie. Don’t let him hurt you again. “No, I haven’t heard those three words from you, but I have from my mother … from Greg.”
Nathan shook his head and leaned closer. “I’m sorry for what they did. Just like you’re sorry about my mother. But we shouldn’t let what has happened in the past drive our future. We deserve to allow ourselves to be loved.”
Tiana stood and stepped behind Garrett, still seated in his chair.
He waved his hands in the air. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just here for the popcorn.”
She ignored the comment, using his father and the chair as a shield. “We aren’t compatible. We argue all the time.”
“So?” He stood his ground and stared.
“When people argue all the time, that generally indicates the relationship won’t last.”
“We don’t argue all the time. We challenge each other. I call you out when you’re wrong and vice versa. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here giving me shit, knowing full well that you love me, too.” Closing the distance between them, he pulled her close. His hypnotic scent held her in a trance.
“Tell me, Tiana. When we challenge each other, how do you feel?”
“Alive,” she answered before she could stop herself. “I feel alive.”
“I feel the same way. I didn’t realize it until you, but I was bored. I wasn’t challenged in my work, in my relationships, or in my life. And then you strutted in, a blast from the past, and turned my life around. You remember the list I had for the perfect woman?”
She gripped his shoulders and nodded. His dark brown eyes stared back, confident. A whisper of a smile jerked the corners of his full lips, turning her steel resolve into mush. “Yes, I remember.”
“I was talking about you. You’re everything. All the woman I’ll ever need. I want everything from you. All your joy, and all your pain. We live, and we fight together. You’re not a ghost. You’re alive. Be alive with me.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she silently considered his words.
Mel grabbed Tiana’s knee and smiled encouragingly at her. Tiana moved her gaze from her best friend to Garrett.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, take the begging man out of his misery and get started on making me some grandbabies.”
“Pops.” Nathan groaned. “I’m trying to tell the woman of my dreams that I love her. In a leotard and chainmail armor. Can I have this?”
Giggling, she tilted her head up to him. “I suppose I can give you another chance on one condition.”
“Anything.”
“You have to promise that no sticks will ever get stuck up there again,” she whispered so no one could hear.
Nathan’s deep chuckle warmed her heart. “As long as you promise to knock some sense into me when I’m acting bull-headed.”
Lightly thumping his head, she smiled. “Look at me, being all proactive.”
Nathaniel cupped her neck, all smiles gone. “I love you, Peaches. Let me erase all your bad memories. I’m going to love you better—the way you’ve always deserved.”
She encircled her arms around his neck. “I love you, too.” She stood on her tiptoes and whispered, “Let’s get going on practicing for Garrett’s grandkids.”
He grabbed the ring from her bestie’s proffered hand. “First, the ring.” He stepped back and slid the ring on Tiana’s finger.
Mel jumped from the ground. “Huzzah for the newly engaged couple!”
“Huzzah!” the crowd, including passersby, cheered.
Tiana shook her head and giggled into his chest.
“Are you ready, Peaches?”
“Ready for what?”
“For us?” He gave her a quick peck on her head. “For me?”
She tilted her head up and grinned. “It’s been you. It’s always and will always be you.”
Acknowledgments
To my husband, Jason—thank you for cheering me on, keeping me sane and taking care of me. It’s a tough job, but somebody has to do it. I’m so happy that it’s you! Also, thank you for encouraging me to step away from the computer and have fun.
To my critique partners (I have a lot of them) Connie Gilliam, Ison Hill, Mary Marvella, and Pamela Varnado— thanks for making me a stronger writer. And I so cherish our Tuesday and Saturday meetups! Thank you Annie Oortman for encouraging me to dig deeper.
I’d also like to thank my Mastermind Group—Renne Simpson and Mike Gresham. Here’s to another great year for us!
To my best friends, Ashley Clark, Cedrick Hayward, Saba Long, and Charidee Wootson—thank you for inspiring the close friendship between Melanie and Tiana. Love you guys to the moon and back.
To all my family and friends who supported me through social media, word of mouth, or just checking in on me! I love and appreciate all of you.
And last, but certainly not least, thank you dear reader for taking the time to read my book.
About the Author
Rina Gray writes romance, paranormal romance, and women’s fiction. She is also digital marketing professional who explored her love of writing a few years ago. Writing has always been Rina’s passion, though initially, she tried to deny it. In college she served as the copy editor for the entertainment magazine and newspaper. During her tenure, she had the opportunity to interview various talented entertainers. Rina has always been an avid reader; sneaking to read her mother’s books she had no business reading, which sparked her love for horror. As a preteen, she received a load of romance novels from a family friend, and from that point on she devoured any book related to romance or horror.
Rina tweets about her writing journey and her unhealthy obsession with the NBA @rinagraywrites. Feel free to connect on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorRinaGray. Her website is www.RinaGray.com.
More from This Author
Fool for You
Rina Gray
If Wile E. Coyote ever successfully trapped the Road Runner, he’d have the same just-won-the-lotto grin as Melanie Foster.
She texted her best friend, Damien, the thumbs-up, prayer hands, and dancing hippo emojis—he’d get that she had good news to share. He always got her. Striding up to the receptionist counter at her brand-spanking-new job, she glanced at the woman’s nameplate. Meena. No last name. Just Meena.
“Meena, you are now looking at the new associate editor for SportsFanatic.com. I g
ot the job!” Melanie sang and moonwalked backward in her stilettos. Well, she tried and tripped. Not smart considering she wasn’t much of a high-heel enthusiast. Luckily, she managed to grab the counter for balance before the hardwood floor became the most action she’d had in eighteen months.
“Good for you.” The receptionist rolled her brown, Betty Boop eyes and resumed her clicking and clacking on the keyboard.
Melanie gave her a strained smile. Seriously? This chick didn’t get how awesome this was. Not only had Melanie scored the associate editor position at SportsFanatic.com, but she was also the first African-American female editor for the online magazine. And, to make her dream job even more amazing—like triple-fudge-brownie-with-hazelnuts-and-caramel amazing—she would be the exclusive writer for the Yankees. The freakin’ New. York. Yankees.
The receptionist leaned away from the desk and folded her slender arms. “You haven’t started the job yet so … bye?”
“Let’s do lunch when I start. My treat. See you soon!” Melanie pivoted toward the elevator, all smiles on the outside but mentally flipping the finger with both hands on the inside. Meena would not kill her vibe.
Pressing the down button, Melanie slid her wire-framed glasses back on her nose, tapped her toes, and waited. Under her breath, she hummed a celebratory got-the-job song. This needed to be celebrated. Nearly all her goals had been achieved. Bomb.com job: Check. Next item: Convince her best friend to be the father of her two-point-five kids and live in a brownstone in Chelsea. Is there such a thing as half a check? A ding from the arriving elevator answered her.
But she wasn’t worried. If she could beat out eighty-seven candidates for her dream job, she could win the heart of her dream man. The elevator doors slid shut, and she let loose.
“I just got the jooob. I just got the joooob! Happy job dance, happy job dance!” She diva-fied her dancing with a hip swirl that would make the founders of Zumba proud.
The elevator dinged, groaned, and stopped on the ground floor. She walked out of the ancient elevator and, with each step, closer to her best friend.