This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad

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by Ngontang Mba, Danielle-Claude


  Callia answered, escorting me to the door, “Because we don’t believe in ambush. We wanted to settle this ‘situation’ before her return. So if we could get all of this signed up by then, it would be super.” As we walked in the hallway, she seemed to relax a little. “Lloyd is very protective of Lucia.” She turned and faced me. “Not in any inappropriate ways. She was only fifteen when he met her. Our youngest, Doris, was just a baby and she took an instant shine to her. And believe me, that kid hated anybody who was not her parents or siblings, even her own nanny.”

  I heard something similar last week. “I understand… At least I think I do.” Did she know what happened between Lucia and I the weekend before?

  “Anyway, I’m really excited to have you here. I mean that. You’re one of the best in the business,” she added when reached the elevator.

  “Thanks. All things considered, I’m glad to be here,” I told her and I sincerely thought so.

  “So… Charisma… Were you a fan?” She asked, laughing me as I was getting in the elevator.

  “Want an autograph?”

  “I will hold you to that,” I said, smiling back, the doors closing on us.

  A couple of hours later, I’m still brooding about my conversion with Lloyd and Callia. John is in a much better mood than I am, talking to Nella on his cell phone. We’re having lunch downtown; my treat. It’s the least I can do after he’s letting me stay with him and Nella for as long as I need.

  “I miss you too, love. Say hello to your mother for me,” he tells her then winks at me. “Marcus and I will behave. I promise.” He laughs; I’m sure at my expense. “Gotta go. Marcus is getting antsy. I love you.” Then he hangs up.

  “How long will she be gone for?” I ask him. “And I’m not antsy.” I take a sip of my drink. Toronto has decent ales but nothing beats a good one from home. “I’m just displeased.”

  “Bollocks! You’re pissed off,” he shouts. We share a knowing look. “And with good reason.” He takes a bite of his burger. “Or not?”

  “I have to work with an amateur songwriter producer, Johnny. I don’t do teamwork. What do they say here? There’s no I in team? Well, I’m the I.” I drink more of my ale. “Now I have to break it to Matt; that’s not going to be pretty. You know how he is.”

  “He’s a wanker; a real one. And you’re a good friend,” he says. “Look on the bright side; you met Charisma and you’ll get to see her again.” He smiles. “I meant Lucia.” He takes another couple of bites. “Just before she cuts your balls off.” He grins at me. “She just seems like the type to do such a thing.”

  I can’t help but grinning at that thought too. This reunion would be very entertaining. It’s too late to ring her now. In my defense, I really thought she would have been part of this morning meeting. Does she even know what’s going on?

  “‘Head to Toes’ was a good song. It went Platinum,” John says without a trace of humor. “Twice. Nella used to hum it all the time.”

  “I guess.” I wave to the waitress. “Could we please get the bill? Thanks.” John looks surprised. “My treat. That’s the least I can do for letting me stay with you.”

  “Don’t mention it, ever really. Nella thinks you’re paying rent,” he jokes. “But you barely touched your food.” He leans the table. “Can I get your fries?”

  “Suit yourself.” I give him my plate. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  The waitress comes back with the bill and I give her my credit card without looking at the amount. It’s a nice pub and reminds me of Manchester. Home. Maybe I should just go back to London then spend a couple of weeks in Manchester with the family. I’m dreading the next few weeks. John has a point, though; a pissed Lucia doesn’t seem like someone you would like to be around. And she’s going to be pissed.

  “Thanks. They have amazing fries here,” he says.

  “Johnny?”

  “Yes?”

  “You really think she’s going to cut them off?”

  John bursts out laughing. “And feed them back to you, mate.”

  I spoke to my parents after my lunch with John. Mum, as usual, caught me up on my dad’s latest inventions. I’ve been only gone a week and he’s already found a hobby.

  “If it keeps him busy, I’m not complaining,” Mum said.

  “But really, Mum? Greeting cards?” I inquired with a sneer. “You’re family doctors; I’m the writer of the family.” I think it sounded whinier that I had intended it.

  “Cushion, what’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I just miss you guys. I was supposed to spend spring with you, not in Toronto.”

  “I know but work got in the way. It’s fine, Cushion. Just take care of yourself.” Mum is the only person who still calls me Cushion, and Beesly sometimes.

  I asked her to send some of my dad’s greeting card samples; should be fun to read. After we hung up, I wondered what she would think of me if I told her the whole story about Lucia. I would not be the good-hearted son she knew and loved anymore. All that sneaking around and back-stabbing wasn’t me at all. I’ve never needed to do that to get a contract before. People usually chase me, not the opposite. Now, with my new contract in hand, I realized that I could have just walked away from all this. I had a lot to worry about on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean with Mary’s album and her ever-changing mind about us. So why was I still here? Lucia? My friendship with the Marshes? My fucking pride? I really should have rung her at least to warn her about tomorrow.

  Reflecting on last Friday, going to the Origin Lounge to find her was a stupid idea from the start. But after hearing all those things about Lucia Mpobo-Riddell, I wanted to take a real peek at her. I just didn’t know how far that would go. It was almost 11.30 p.m. when we got there; I forgot how much going out in the company of women could make you late – Nella changed five times. God forbid her perfectly fit, dancer silhouette should look anything but, well, perfect.

  The place was crowded for a guest-passes-only lounge. We got a table and drinks and I started to scout.

  “Are you sure she’s here tonight?” John whispered to me.

  “My sources said she would be here with her sisters,” I whispered back.

  Nella suspiciously looked at us. “What are you men up to?” she asked.

  I looked at John and carefully said, “I heard that some of the Noël-Sarrow creative team would be here.”

  Nella smiled. “Who?”

  “We’re not sure,” John said and then he kissed her.

  Nella finished her martini and got up. “Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, I’m going for a refill at the bar.”

  “You’re not going after her?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “She’s fine.”

  With Nella gone, I started to look more closely for Lucia. I noticed two women standing at the other end of the room. John saw them as well. “Twins. Over there. Nice,” he said.

  Their features were almost identical but what really struck my attention were their eyes; they were just lovely. One of them had long, straight hair and it was partially covering her naked back; she was wearing a short, open-back, blue dress. The other twin’s hair was shorter and curly but was pulled in a very tight ponytail; she was wearing a light-grey tube top with a wavy, matching skirt and black tights. Her curvy body alone made my mouth dry. She smiled to her sister.

  “That’s Lucia,” I whispered to John. I recognized her smile from her office pictures. She turned around and was now facing me. Our eyes locked. She smiled. I smiled back.

  “Are you sure?” John asked. “They look the same to me.”

  “No, not really,” I told John, not breaking my connection with Lucia. “Not at all.”

  “That’s Noor and her younger sister, Lucia” Nella said and sat back at the table.

  “You know them?” I asked, surprised.

  “Just Noor Mpobo really. She was a professional dancer before opening her own dance school.”

  “Of course!” John sai
d. “I met her before. They’re not twins, Marcus.”

  “Thanks, mate. I’ve got this one.” I got up and walk toward Lucia and her sister. How could I have ever thought they looked identical? They were both beautiful but you could see Noor’s blunt mischievousness contrasting with Lucia’s not-so-innocent, flirtatious ways from the other end of the room. Quite a pair those two. I was about to introduce myself to them when I heard Lucia first – in French.

  “Il est la[3],” she whispered to Noor.

  This part of the lounge didn’t play music, so people were able to have conversation.

  “Who?” she whispered back.

  Lucia eyes didn’t leave mine. “The hot guy,” she said before she brought her drink to her lips – most sensual thing I’d seen in a long time.

  “That’s my cue,” I whispered. “Hi, I’m Marcus,” I told both of them.

  “Well, hi, Marcus. I’m Noor and this is my sister, Lucia,” she flirted back at me. “Do I hear an accent, Marcus…?”

  “Just Marcus,” I said winking.

  Noor look surprised. “Manchester accent! Luce, how random is that?”

  “We were born in London and grew up there,” Lucia explained.

  “So, ‘Just’; never heard of that last name before, especially so close to the Highlands,” Noor said.

  And she was serious, I thought, laughing.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lucia mouthed. “Noor, his name is not Just; it’s just Marcus,” she told her sister, finishing her drink, “for now.”

  Now was the perfect time to tell who I really was and we could all have a laugh about it. But all I could say was, “So, what are you ladies doing here tonight?” Pathetic; I knew exactly why there were there.

  “Well, Marcus,” Noor said. “Would you believe that I’m the older sister?” She put her left hand to her neck, showcasing her big engagement ring. “I’m getting married in London this fall.”

  “Oh really?” I silently asked Lucia.

  “Really,” she mimed then she addressed Noor. “Honey, tonight is not about you.” She hugged her and laughed a very sweet, loving laugh. “Focus, please.”

  Noor burst out laughing. “Alright. My baby sister here is a year older tomorrow,” she told me, caressing Lucia’s cheek. “But really,” she added, looking at me, “if I wasn’t getting married –”

  “Nooradine!” Lucia said.

  “Okay, okay! I have to call my fiancé anyway, to tell him I still want to marry him,” she joked. “He’s a keeper you know, my Andrew.” She walked away but not before giving Lucia two thumbs up.

  “Please get me another drink,” Lucia said. She then came closer to me. “She’s a gem, a crazy gem but a gem nonetheless.”

  This was another perfect moment to come clear. I got a little closer and the smell of vanilla and cocoa butter hit me and I just kept staring into her eyes – large, hypnotic, dark grey.

  “Are you in Toronto for business?” she asked, her sight drifting from me and back to my table where John and Nella were still sitting.

  “Why can’t I be a local? You know, an import.”

  “Well, let’s see.” She took a step back to look at me, a wicked smile on her face. “Don’t get me wrong; this place is all about who is who, but you’re so well dressed and groomed. You haven’t been corrupted by Toronto yet.”

  I laughed. She was good. I was a different dresser than the rest of the crowd. I have been a different dresser all my life. My dark-grey suit jacket was a designer one, but I always got them fitted.

  “Hold on,” I said. “I’m groomed? Don’t men enjoy personal hygiene in Toronto?”

  “They do,” she smiled, “but not the posh way,” she added with a perfect London accent. “That’s right; I can switch back into it, especially after a few drinks,” she smirked and winked at me.

  “Luce… Can I call you Luce?” I asked her. She nodded yes. “Happy Birthday. It’s midnight.”

  She checked her phone. “Oh, already? Thank you, ‘Just Marcus’. This has been the best couple of weeks ever!” She looked around. “Now where is my –”

  “Happy Birthday, sweetie!” Noor shouted, behind us with a few drinks in her hands. She gave Lucia a glass of champagne and handed me a shot. “To my favorite sibling – don’t tell Axelle. And to Second Coming!” she toasted before she and Lucia emptied their drinks.

  “Delicious,” they murmured at the same time.

  I emptied my shot too. It was disgusting. What the bloody hell was that? I looked at Lucia.

  “I know,” she mimed. “Thanks for the drinks, Noor,” she added louder. “This is going straight to my head.”

  “Thank you for the shot Noor; you really shouldn’t have.” The bloody awful testing shot. It’s all over my face I’m sure. I couldn’t believe she just mentioned Second Coming. It was time to walk away, before causing too much damage, but instead I said, “Do you want to come and sit at my table?”

  Noor and Lucia shared a conspiring look.

  “Thank you. We’d love to,” Lucia said.

  Not exactly what I had planned. On our way to the table I ordered a bottle of champagne.

  “Lucia, Noor, meet my good mate John and his girlfriend Nella. It’s Lucia’s birthday,” I said before showing them their seats.

  “Nice to meet you.” Lucia shook both their hands.

  “Happy birthday, Lucia,” Nella said, genuinely smiling back to her then she turned to her sister. “Noor.”

  “Nella,” she said, matching her cold tone. “Long times no see,” she added, sitting next John while Lucia sat next to me. “I see you’re still with John.” She turned to John. “Always a pleasure to see you, John.”

  “Congratulation for the wedding,” he replied then quickly turned to Lucia. “Happy birthday, Lucia, and may I say you look dashing tonight.” He took her hand for a kiss, which made her blush.

  Our bottle arrived and we all toasted the birthday girl. Apart from some strange looks from Nella directed at me, things were going well. We all talked and laughed, ordered a second bottle, even started a third one. My hands were never far from Lucia’s arms and her eyes never left mine.

  A familiar guitar solo started in the other room, making Lucia and Noor get all excited.

  “Oh my God! ‘Head to Toe’!” Lucia shrieked. “I wrote this song for Jonnie Lynch! Her biggest hit to date.” She took my hand. “Just Marcus, let’s go dance.”

  Nella whispered to me as I was leaving, “That’s not right, Marcus.”

  Lucia led me to the dance floor downstairs and I spun her around.

  “Oh my, Twinkle Toes, you weren’t kidding earlier; you do know how to dance. Let’s do this!” And we did. We danced to the next song, then the next and the next. Lucia was sometimes lip-singing to the words, staring straight into my eyes. Eventually, her hands traveled from my back to the back of my head and she lowered it and kissed me – a soft, sweet, teasing kiss. I couldn’t let her get away with that and deepened that kiss. She tasted like champagne and something else, something addictive and of course, I instantly got hooked on it.

  She slowly released my lips. “Hi, Twinkle Toes.”

  “Hi Luce,” I whispered against hers and took them again. I held her closer and tighter to me. I looked around and noticed that Nella, Noor and even John were also dancing like the professional dancers they were. Show offs! Lucia was very good too. I’ve been blessed with rhythms but five years in The Royal Academy Of Music with John made me much better.

  “I Need to know” from Marc Anthony started and John came to us, leaving Nella dancing with someone else.

  “May I? I really like what I’ve seen so far.” Not even waiting for a response, he took Lucia away from me with a wink.

  “Of course you can,” she giggled, then announced, “Now dancing the samba, Lucia and her partner, John.” And I watched as they started to execute a perfect samba. Scratch that; it was a professional executed one and John had never been an easy-to-follow partner. I went to Noor and we
started dancing.

  “She’s adorable isn’t she?” she said.

  My look shifted toward John and Lucia, dancing and laughing. “Yes she is,” I answered, smiling to her. “And so are you.”

  “I know,” she smirked back.

  “Is she a professional dancer too?”

  “Until the age of twenty she was the best dancer I’d ever seen,” she answered. “She moved to other passions after that.”

  My gaze was always on Lucia and hers on mine. By the time they started to play “No me Ames”, I went to get her back from John.

  “Missed me, Luce?” I asked her.

  She brought her lips to mine for a kiss – a real, deep, long kiss. “John is a better dancer,” she answered.

  “I bet he does this for a living,” I said before kissing her again. “What’s with the Marc Anthony marathon here?”

  Lucia laughed, turning around and pressing her back against my chest. It felt amazing. “Noor’s doing, I’m sure.” Her hands were caressing my face and I kissed her neck. “It’s her favorite singer.”

  She turned around at the end of the song. I couldn’t speak anymore; my body was in full arousal. I kissed her with all I had and she kissed me back matching the same passion.

  “Luce, you are so beautiful,” I hoarsely said.

  “You’re not so bad yourself, Just Marcus.” Her fingers were under my shirt now; she kissed me some more then whispered “Do you want to get out of here?”

  How could I say no? There was at least one good reason, but all I could think about was her lips, her smell, her touch, her smile. “Noor?” I whispered back.

  “Like a cat always, she falls on her feet,” she laughed. “Andrew is waiting for her outside; we’ve all been drinking way too much.”

  “Lead the way then.”

  She took my hand and led to the exit. I took my jacket and after a quick, awkward farewell to John and Nella. Lucia hugged them both then we headed outside. Noor was already there kissing somebody I presumed to be her fiancé. She waived us goodbye and got into his car. Now it was just Lucia and me. I hailed a taxi and kissed her. I looked at her sweet, trusting face and felt a like real dick. She kissed my neck, giggling, and for some reason I giggled back. At that moment I was sure we would be able to talk about the whole Second Coming situation in the morning. But we never did. So now I’m going to have to confront her tomorrow.

 

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