Desired Too

by Lessly, S. K.

  I wasn’t completely out of a job, though. I actually had one client… Angel.

  I know, I know! Stupid and delusional, right? But, I couldn’t help myself. His words had gotten to me that day. He trusted me… Beyond his own blood, he trusted me. I couldn’t leave him hanging so I had my calls forwarded from my work phone to my new cell and waited for a message from his assistant Shayla. When she finally called, I thought about telling her right then that I didn’t work for my father anymore. Yet, again, I kept going back to Angel’s words. I sent her the contract, and she gave me the business ventures that Angel was interested in investing. Since then, I’d been working for the interests of the Leonetti Family. I didn’t care where his money was coming from. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know who Angel was or what his family was. That didn’t matter to me. What mattered was his interests. If there were any questionable transactions or businesses a part of the Leonetti’s name, I made sure it didn’t exist anymore. He asked me to handle his money; to invest where I thought would bring him the highest dividends and returns. And that’s what I did. It was important to me that I made sure Angel didn’t regret his words.

  So even though I’d been in hiding, I didn’t think it would last this long. I thought the one person who would tear down this city to find me would’ve found me by now. “I won’t be denied,” he’d said. However, he hadn’t come after me.

  I will admit, the silence from him bothered me more than anything else. The things that he’d said to me- I belonged to him and I needed to take my rightful place next to him- all of that shit bothered me too. Hell, it down right scared the shit out of me.

  I’d finally realized that for a long time, I’d been living in a dream world. I took the blue pill instead of the red pill and started believing in fantasies. Now that I was home, the red pill had been shoved down my throat and the possibility that he and I wouldn’t work started to surface. Angel was dominant, controlling, was capable of anything and had an atrocious temper.

  I hated to be controlled. I hated to be handled as if I wasn’t capable of speaking and acting on my own. I didn’t want to be dominated, and I had a helluva temper too. Weren’t those things ingredients for disaster? I didn’t want to make a hasty decision, so I figured maybe he and I could start off as friends. I figured maybe we could get to know each other first, before we claimed one another. That sounded good, right? Now, all I had to do was tell him.

  I can do this.

  He was just one of those guys that was good for one thing; to make you lose your mind in fits of passion while calling him a god, and that’s it.

  “All right, it’s time to be that grown ass woman you claim to be.”

  I grabbed the food that I bought for us and headed to his door. I pushed his buzzer and hoped he wouldn’t ignore me while praying that he was home.

  Angel happened to live on the first floor of this three-story warehouse style apartment building. He told me that there were six apartments, two on each floor. The crazy thing about that was that I’d never seen anyone come out of the building, but him. I never heard any neighbors either.

  Anyway, I pushed the angry sounding buzzer again and stepped back from the door.

  Just when I was about to give up and go home, I heard the buzzer releasing the front door. I opened it quickly feeling as if this would be my last chance to see him. I walked through the door, trying to think of what all I needed to say. Humbly, all of my thoughts died the moment my eyes fell on him. He wasn’t dressed in one of his signature, tailored, dark, expensive suits. He was dressed in a tank style t-shirt and basketball shorts. I fought the urge to lick my lips as I noticed how low his basketball shorts sat on his hips. Okay, mainly it was the impression I saw pushing out of the front of his shorts that I’d noticed. Apparently, he was letting the boys hang free.

  Goodness me!

  Stay focused.

  His hair was slicked back and damp, revealing to me a very sexy, very attractive, and a very pissed off man. I blinked a few times, unable to move from the doorway of the building.

  I couldn’t play off my attraction for him for all the money in the world. I knew he could see it in my eyes. I knew he could feel the heat between us because I felt it too.

  I also felt how pissed he was at me. He just stood in front of his door watching me. I tried to smile at him. Hell, I even thought about telling a few jokes to lighten the mood, but as his gray eyes grew darker, I knew I was two seconds from being sent home.

  “Hey,” I said and smiled. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked dryly.

  I shifted under his scrutiny. “I brought you dinner.”

  “That’s it? You brought me dinner?” he questioned, his frown seemingly permanent on his face.

  “No, but if you let me in, we can talk about the other stuff.”

  It seemed he wasn’t budging so I moved closer to him. “Look our dinner is getting cold, and you know how you hate cold Chinese. Please let me in so we can eat, and I promise we can talk after.”

  After what felt like forever, he shifted over, giving me room to enter, and I quickly moved past him. When I walked inside, I headed straight for his kitchen, trying my best to ignore the jazz coming from his stereo and the candles and lighting that made this space quite cozy and romantic.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I called back to him.

  Is he expecting someone else? Goodness, I hope not!

  I needed a distraction to stay focused on my plan and not on the ideas that were popping into my head. I shook my head, trying to focus again.

  Angel’s apartment fit him to the tee. It was a bachelor pad. It was a loft style setup with a bit of uniqueness. It was a huge space that he transitioned to fit his personality and likes. It was quite genius how this space was decorated, so I knew he had help. No way had he done this on his own. What I didn’t want to know or think about was who had helped him.

  When you walked into his apartment, you come to a space in the loft he’d deemed as his living room area. He had a dark gray leather couch that reclined on both ends and was hella comfortable. There was a matching loveseat and a seventy-inch flat screen television attached to a TV console. He had a beautiful coffee table and end tables and a soft area rug that completed the space. There were four floor-to-ceiling windows that had long thick black floor to ceiling style drapes covering them.

  He had a bar that separated the living area from the dining area. A study looking oak table and four matching chairs occupied the dining room and French Doors that opened to a decent view of the Delaware River and parts of New Jersey.

  The loft had two bedrooms and two bathrooms that were separated by a very nice galley kitchen. The kitchen was a simple galley kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. What he had built, adding charm to the space, was a rather large island, giving him additional counter space, storage, and seating. Now, if you are facing the kitchen, with the living and dining room behind you, to the left was a hallway. Typically, a loft apartment had an open floorplan. Angel, of course, was different. He told me he wanted to make this place functioning to fit his needs. The hallway took you to a small bathroom with a standup shower, sink, and toilet. Further down the hall was a room that he used as his gym.

  To the right of the kitchen was his bedroom that was as open as the rest of his place, go figure. He had a poster king sized bed and to the left of the bed were two rooms, a large walk-in closet, to house all of his many tailored suits, and a huge bathroom.

  The bathroom had large black and white slate tile that made the bathroom modern, yet classy at the same time. And his tub…Woo-wee! I wished I could live in it. It was a huge garden style jetted tub. The stand-up shower was large enough to fit two people; trust me, I know. The shower walls were created using the same type of slate tiles along the floor of the bathroom, only smaller with decorative glass splash tiles intermittently around the shower wall. Granite countertops and nickel facets added to
the modern style of the room.

  He had various plants sitting around, some paintings hanging on the walls, and other décor items that made the space inviting. It didn’t change the fact that it still was a bachelor pad.

  Angel came to the island and sat down as I started pulling out the Chinese food.

  I wanted to focus on why I was there and not how good he looked in his wife beater or how my eyes keep traveling to the front of his shorts. Damn. And oh how hard it was not to focus on the memories of how good his arms felt when he wrapped those arms around me and when he used them to hold me up as he…

  Concentrate, girl.

  “I tried to remember what you liked. I got a little of everything. Beef and Broccoli, fried rice, Lo Mein, Shrimp fried rice.”

  “Egg rolls?” he asked.

  “Yup, I have them too.”

  I moved around his kitchen with familiarity and grabbed plates, realizing instantly how comfortable I felt; like I was home, which made me frown.

  I placed a plate and the containers of food in front of his smirking ass, saying, “There you go.”

  There was no way in hell I was going to make his plate too.

  He laughed though, which I hoped was a good sign, and started spooning food on his plate.

  As we ate, our conversation was light. He asked me about San Francisco, and I asked him about his vision for his investments. He seemed surprised that I was still working for him. I was sure that he figured since we argued, I wouldn’t help him. I didn’t want to go into detail about why I decided to do it. Instead, I told him what I had been doing for his interests. I explained the research needed to make sound decisions on his investments. He seemed impressed and started animatedly talking to me about his vision and not about my rightful place, which I was thankful for.

  After we had eaten our food, we relaxed on the couch, both on our respective cushions, listening to instrumental jazz, sipping on our fourth bottle of wine. I watched, amazed, as he smoked a cigar, something I didn’t have a clue he did.

  I was starting to relax. This was going better than I’d expected. I felt good about telling him that we should start out just being friends. Yup, things were going great… Right up until he asked, “Why did you leave California?”

  I sat there quiet for a moment, hoping I could ignore the question. When I looked over at him, I realized it wasn’t going to work.

  I sighed and gave him my safe answer. “My dad and brother called begging me to come home. They said the company was in peril. I found out once I got here that the only thing in ‘peril’ was them.”

  “Bullshit,” Angel countered.

  “Why is that bullshit?” I quipped.

  “Please, Raquel, you were losing your mind being up under them. You couldn’t wait to leave. Now you’re trying to tell me that all it took was for them to ask you to come home and you were on the next thing smoking? I don’t buy that. So tell me what really happened?”

  Irritated that things were now heading south, I got up from the couch and went to his bar. It seemed the night had shifted. I needed something stronger to drink. I grabbed the vodka and poured it into my wine glass.

  “I saw you with him,” I heard him say behind me.

  I frowned confused, “You saw me with who?”

  I added pineapple juice to the vodka that I’d also found on the bar. Then I turned to face him. I stayed where I was, feeling that I needed to keep space between us.

  He offered, “I had some business in San Francisco about six months after you left. Since I was in town, I figured I’d look you up to see how you were doing.”

  I asked skeptically, “And you knew where I lived?”

  He chuckled. “Come on, baby, there’s no place you could hide from me where I wouldn’t find you. I just made a few calls, and I had your address just like that.”

  I didn’t believe him. If he was able to find me anywhere, why didn’t he come for me? What I couldn’t do was bring myself to ask him that.

  Instead, I asked, “Wow…Um…That’s a bit on the stalker side, don’t you think? You could’ve just called me, saved yourself the grief.”

  His reply was a shrug of his shoulders.

  I laughed and shook my head, “You are a mess.”

  “Yeah, I’m a lot of things, aren’t I?” he queried.

  “Yes, you are,” I agreed.

  “But I can be so much more if you let me,” he added, his gray eyes aflame.

  I tried to keep my eyes on him, but it was hard. The intensity and focus that was there was too much. I nervously brought my glass to my lips and concentrated on wetting my mouth.

  This was a bad idea coming here. I can’t handle this shit. Grown woman my ass!

  I shook off the feeling and asked, “So you found me, and then what?” I moved to the loveseat, keeping as much space between us as I could. I just couldn’t remain standing on my weakening knees.

  “Well, I was surprised to see someone else, either your roommate or company, answer the door.”

  I frowned again. “What do you mean someone else? I didn’t have a roommate and no one was staying with me. I lived alone.”

  He shrugged, showing his confusion as well. “Yes, I know you did, which was why I was so surprised. I asked the man his name and he told me... something… Igor or Iraq…” he frowned and shook his head.

  I was stunned yet again. “Ira?”

  He snapped his fingers and pointed at me, “Yes, that’s the little shit’s name.”

  Forgetting that I was trying to keep distance between us, I moved to the couch. “If you’re speaking about Ira, I have to say, one, he wasn’t little. Ira is at least as tall as you.”

  Angel however just looked at me blankly as if I hadn’t said a thing. I added, “And, two, I know for a fact that he wasn’t living with me. He and I weren’t roommates, and he couldn’t be my “company” if I wasn’t there. Besides, he always left when I did. He couldn’t have answered my door.”

  “Well, baby, when I came to visit you, you were living right outside of Chinatown, about five blocks from it. I may not remember the address specifically, but I know that much. So, yes, he answered your door.”

  “And you talked to him? You told him that you were there to see me?”

  “Of course I did. He told me you were at work and told me when you were getting home. He was very forthcoming.”

  I shook my head. “No, that couldn’t have been Ira. First, he never told me that you came by. Second, he was a very jealous man. He wouldn’t have freely given you that information.”

  Angel stared at me for a minute as if he was waiting for me to remember something that I was missing. When I didn’t say anything or give him the reaction he wanted, he sighed. “I never said he freely told me anything.”

  My eyes grew. “You didn’t put your hands on him, did you?”

  He shook his head, leaned back against the cushions of the couch and pulled from his cigar. “Nope, I didn’t.”

  Confused, I asked, “Okay, so if you didn’t then-”

  “He and my cousin Lincoln had some words. My cousin is not the kind of person that possesses patience. I asked Igor some questions and he said a few things that I didn’t like and neither did my cousin, so…”

  I stood. “Oh my God!”

  Somethings were slowly starting to come back to me. First, I had a table that I purchased from some Asian guy in Chinatown. I’d put it right by my apartment door. One day, around the early months of our relationship, I come to find it broken. Ira had told me that while I was gone, he’d tripped over his bag and broke my table. And second, I had noticed Ira had fresh bruises on his face. I had asked him about it but didn’t think anything of it when he told me he got into it with someone from a case he was working on.

  I stared at Angel as if he’d grown a third eye. “I can’t believe you!”

  “He started it,” he barked.

  “He started it?” I asked incredulously and shook my head.

  Angel, ho
wever, remained unfazed by me and added, “All he had to do was answer my questions. Instead, he wanted to make things hard on himself, test my fucking patience. Do you actually think I would let that kind of shit go?”

  “You are such a thug, a bully. Do you know that?” I started pacing in front of him, trying to calm down. “I mean who does that? Who goes to someone else’s home and assaults their company because you didn’t like their answers?”

  “Oh, so now he was your company? A minute ago you said there was no way he could’ve answered your door because he left when you did.”

  I frowned, “Don’t try and change the subject.”

  Angel shrugged indifferently, “Look, he had a choice to cooperate with me and he chose to be difficult. I didn’t provoke him at all.”

  “I know that’s a lie,” I rebutted.

  “Is he the reason why you left California?”

  “It’s none of your business why I left.”

  It was time for me to leave. I came here with the intentions of just being friends, getting to know each other first, taking this slow, but I realized he didn’t know the meaning of slow. He wanted control. I refused to give it to him.

  I went to his kitchen and placed my glass in his sink. I grabbed my purse, thankful for the confirmation that he and I just weren’t compatible. When I turned to make my exit, Angel was standing in front me, that hard look in his eyes back with a vengeance.

  “Tell me why you’re home,” he ordered.

  “It’s none of your fucking business!” I answered.

  I was heading for the door when he grabbed me.

  “Would you rather me go find him and ask him myself?” he asked

  “What?”

  “I suddenly have all the time in the world. I’m sure it’s not hard to find Innis. And when I get to him, I pray he tells me to go fuck myself again.”

  There is something very wrong with this man.

  I tossed my purse on the couch and folded my arms underneath my breasts.