“I wish you’d told me that was why I couldn’t shower with you.”
“I should have. I just learned not to talk about it when we moved to the U.S. People see me, and they are afraid, so I’ve done what I could to blend in, and not tell anyone about my faith.”
It hurts me to know this. I knew it went on, but it was never this close to me. “I can’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, but I know what it is to hide. I’ve hidden my whole life, pretending not to want friends, because I wouldn’t be able to buy them a present if they invited me to a party. My parents are the best, and they did what they could for me, but I grew up with next to nothing. This apartment is like a palace to me.”
“You take nothing for granted, while I coped by taking everything for granted. I used Matt’s money and power to fit in.”
“Your sister needed that money and power. I remember how horrible everyone was to her when her relationship with Dylan Gallagher became public knowledge.”
He shakes his head. “My sister didn’t need it. She has never tried to hide behind it. It meant a lot to her for Dylan to speak out, and stand by her side, but she would never pretend to be anything else than who she is.”
“I want to know about your culture, about your customs. I want to know everything about you, Sully.”
“I will tell you anything you want to know.”
“I’m going to take you up on that, but right now, I’m pretty dead, so I think we should sleep. Can I ask more tomorrow?”
“You can ask whenever you want.”
There’s one last thing I want to tell him. Or ask. It’s more tell than ask, but here goes. “I’d like to observe the rest of Ramadan with you. Can I? Is it okay to start late?”
“Yes. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but for me, I say yes. It would mean a lot to me. Thank you.”
I kiss him lightly in reply, because I want to do this for him—and for me. I’m not going to convert, because I was raised Christian, and I believe in Jesus, but I want to know Sully, and his religion is a big part of who he is, even if he’s hidden it. You don’t commit to praying five times a day, and fasting for a month, if it isn’t important to you. I need to know it all, so I can understand how to support him. Tonight wasn’t a one-time thing, and when I need to stand up for him, I want to get it right.
Chapter 7
Sully
We don’t get time to talk about my culture on Sunday, because after we eat in the dark, and I pray before sunrise, Nev calls to invite us to her house for a pool party. Every member of the Society, as well as their families, honor Ramadan with us. We honor Dylan, his sister Ellie, and Reina, by abstaining from meat on Fridays during Lent as well. At C&C, all employees are encouraged to share in each other’s customs and fasts. It’s not required, but it’s appreciated.
It was a fun day of swimming, dancing in the grass, and just having fun. We all had a snack of dates and water when the sun went down, Nev and I prayed together, and then everyone ate a larger meal. Oh, and I kissed Beckham every chance I got, which was a lot.
This morning, I can’t keep my mind—or eyes—off her as we all meet in Matt’s office to go over plans for the week. It doesn’t help that I’m sitting next to Brad, who thinks if he whispers his vile thoughts so it’s only me hearing them, it’s okay. It’s not, but I’m trying to remain calm.
“Man, that shirt dress thing on Beckham is so fucking hot. I mean, damn. I want to just pull it down her arms, and see what’s underneath. And is it just me, or are her lips swollen today?”
What’s under her off-the-shoulder white button-down dress with black pinstripes, is a cream colored strapless bra, and matching spandex shorts. I was there when she got dressed, so I know. As for her lips, they’re swollen because I kissed her until we were both panting before work this morning. Not the best idea when we can’t drink water until sundown, but neither of us was complaining.
“Shut up.”
“Is there a problem over there?” Matt asks.
“No, no problem. I just appreciate things more than Sully does.”
My hands are clenched into fists, and I’m so close to punching this asshole, but Beckham speaks up. “We all appreciate different things, and bring different things to the table.”
Matt gets the meeting back on track, but asks me to stay behind while everyone else gets to work. “Everything okay?”
I shrug. “He wants Beckham.”
“Is he still saying things to her?”
“No, just about her. Somehow, he’s decided I’m safe to say his disgusting things to.”
“If he goes too far, come to me, and I’ll deal with him.”
“I will.” Only because if I’m in jail, I can’t be with Beckham.
“You’re doing a great job. I knew you would, and I’m sorry if I was harsh.”
“You did what I needed you to do.”
“Your name is still on the jets, so if you feel the need to whisk a certain woman away for a weekend, feel free.”
“I’m not sure she’s ready for that yet, but thanks.”
“She’s a keeper, Sully. She fit right in yesterday, and she’s observing your fast with you. Make sure you’re not taking any of that for granted.”
“I’m not.”
When I leave his office, I seek out Beckham, watching the UPS guy flirt with her. She laughs with him, but I don’t feel any jealousy. She’s mine, and I know it.
“Private time with Matt, huh? When do I get my private time with you?” Hannah asks, grabbing my ass.
I jerk away from her. “I’m seeing someone.”
“From what I’ve heard, you don’t date, just fuck. All I want is a place in the line-up.”
“I’m not like that anymore.”
“Sure, you aren’t. Leopards don’t change their spots.”
“This leopard did.”
“When you realize I’m right, you know where to find me. In the meantime, please grab my latte.”
I happily walk away, taking a little extra time to make her drink, because I’m thinking about what she said. I only want Beckham; she’s all I think about. But, what if that changes? What if I’m attracted enough to another woman to cheat? I’ve never cheated, because I’ve never had a girlfriend, but now that I do, what’s to say I won’t mess up?
Me. I’m the one to say it. Beckham is too special, and I want to keep her. I won’t cheat, or give her a reason to leave me. I just won’t.
Beckham
The morning flies by, and Sully’s heading out to lunch with Hannah, Mark, and Val before I know it. I hate that we’re missing each other again, but we’ll be together later, so it’s not as bad as it could be. Still sucks, though.
I make my way up to the Foundation, because I was invited to hang out with them during my lunch time. The invite came during the pool party yesterday, which was my first day of fasting. I knew I could fast, because there were days in my childhood when I only ate one meal a day, but it was hard not having water. Reina said they keep each other busy, so it’s harder to notice that we’re thirsty.
Alex is at her desk, and gives me the option to hang with Stella or Sierra. I choose Sierra, surprised to find another woman already in her office with her. I recognize her from being at Sully’s dinner, and I know she’s his mother, although she wasn’t at the party yesterday. This isn’t awkward at all.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” Sierra assures me. “Have you met Aqeelah, Nev and Sully’s mom?”
“No,” I say, striding forward, with my hand held out. “Nice to meet you.”
“You as well.”
“Aqeelah’s helping me with my Arabic, and keeping me on my toes with my Portuguese.”
“You speak Portuguese?”
“Yes. I was born, and raised in Guyana, which is next to Brazil.”
“Oh. You spoke Spanish then, or Portuguese?”
“I speak them both, but the native language of my country is English.”
&nbs
p; “Maybe I should just stop speaking now.”
She laughs, and squeezes my hand. “Not many Americans know where my country is, much less what we speak. Please sit down, and join us.”
“Thank you.”
“Perhaps we should get rid of the elephant in the room.”
Oh God. Here we go. “Okay.”
“My son got you fired, and Matt has hired you to work in the same office as Sully.”
“Yes.”
“Has he behaved? Sully, I mean?”
Behaved? Is this a trick question? “He’s a very hard worker.”
Sierra nearly falls out of her chair, because she’s laughing so hard. “I’m sorry, but I can’t I just can’t. Behaving, working hard, oh God.”
“Am I missing something?” Aqeelah asks me.
“Sully and I are kind of dating.”
“Oh. He didn’t tell me.”
“It’s new.”
I’m saved from the awkwardness by my own mother calling me. I excuse myself to take the call in the hallway.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re at work.”
“It’s lunch time. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to invite you to a neighborhood party on Saturday.”
Most neighbors don’t know each other anymore, but when you’re poor you sometimes lean on each other for support. Not always, but in the case of their neighborhood, that’s how it is. They have get-togethers at the park next to the apartment building at least once a month over the summer. Everyone gets their taxes back, and they feel flush for a few months. They block parties are fun times with hot dogs, beer, popsicles, and splash pools.
“Can I bring a friend?”
“A boyfriend?”
Is he my boyfriend? I think he is. “Yes.”
“Of course, you can bring him. I can’t wait to see you!”
“You too.”
She hangs up, and I plan how I’m going to leave half my paycheck somewhere in their apartment. My parents won’t want to take it, but they will anyway, because they need it. I have free food, and rent, plus a new wardrobe, so I can afford it.
“Sorry about that. It was my mom,” I say, when I walk back into Sierra’s office.
“Never apologize for taking the time to speak to your mother,” Aqeelah tells me, but her smile is sad. I don’t think it’s my place to ask, but I want to know why she’s sad.
I spend the rest of my hour with them, intrigued as I listen to them converse in two different languages. Languages that sound so complicated, I’m not sure if my brain could understand them. French, I know, and some Spanish, but while Portuguese is somewhat similar, Arabic is like Greek to me. Another language I don’t think I could learn.
My defeat must show on my face when I get back to my desk, because Alma looks concerned. “Are you okay?”
“How many languages can you speak fluently?”
“Four, if you include code.”
“Let’s include it. Are any of the others hard?”
“Latin?”
“Oh God, I am so dumb. Why am I dumb?”
“Weren’t you the one saying how we’re all different during the meeting this morning? You are so much better at dealing with people, and multi-tasking. We all have our strengths, and weaknesses.”
“I couldn’t code to save my life.”
“And I couldn’t walk into a private dinner, and pour a drink on Sully.”
I drop my head into my hands. “Everyone knows about that?”
“Oh yeah, but most of us think it’s badass. Except Val, because, you know, she’s always fawning all over him.”
Oh, I know. I have a front row seat to it sometimes, but I’m not worried. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I trust Sully. He won’t cheat on me, or hurt me intentionally. Getting to know the “real” Sully has shown me that. So, Val and every other woman in the world can try to make a move on him, but in the end, I know he’s all mine.
Chapter 8
Beckham
It’s been another busy week at C&C during the day, and in Sully’s bed every night. He hasn’t slept over with me again, because his place just seems more convenient. He has food he can eat, his prayer rug, and while I guess we could bring it all next door, it just seems easier to stay there.
Today, we’re heading to the party, and he seems nervous. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’ve just never met anyone’s parents before.”
“They’re going to love you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they love me, and you make me happy.”
“You make me happy too.”
“Does your mom love me?” I ask, because he didn’t seem too excited about me meeting her.
“She hasn’t said anything about it, so I don’t know.”
“Oh.”
“Our relationship is complicated right now. I’ll explain it to you another day, okay.”
I’m not going to push him when he’s already nervous, so I let it go. “Okay.”
We arrive at the park, and I tell him where he should leave the truck. It’s Dylan’s truck, because he decided a truck was better to bring here than his Porsche. I didn’t disagree with him.
I kiss his cheek when he helps me out, and take his free hand when he offers it. His other hand is holding the cupcakes we picked up. If this party goes until dark, I’ll get to try one here. If not, I’ll just take it home with us.
“What’s going on?” one of the guys I grew up with asks.
“Nothing much,” I reply, walking past him.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“No.”
“Bitch.”
Sully starts to turn, but I stop him. “He’s not worth it.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come.”
“They aren’t all like him. He’s just mad, because he couldn’t get in my pants back in high school.”
“I can sympathize with him, because your pants are a very nice place to be inside of.”
“Aww, you say the sweetest things.”
“Beckham!” my father yells, practically running over to hug me. I let go of Sully to hug him back, before hugging my mom, too.
“I’m a little confused here,” she says, glaring at Sully. “I’m pretty sure he’s the guy who got you fired.”
I take his hand again. “He’s redeemed himself. Mom and Dad, this is Sully.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Williams. I’m sorry our first encounter was so unpleasant.”
He holds out his hand, and they both shake it, even though my mom gives me a look, telling she’s going to want more of an explanation later. I’ll withstand all the grilling she wants to throw my way, because I know he’s who I want to be with.
“Why don’t you take the cupcakes over to the dessert table, and grab yourselves some food? We saved you seats,” my dad tells us.
“We can’t eat,” I say.
My mom looks at me like I’m insane. “What?”
“It’s Ramadan, Sully’s holy month. We don’t eat or drink during the daylight hours.”
“His religion isn’t yours!”
I see Sully flinch, making me harden my voice. “No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t support him.”
Before this escalates, I grab Sully’s hand, and lead him to the dessert table. He helps me make room, as I try to think of something to say. My parents aren’t racists, but while there are people of many colors here, none that I know of are Muslim. They just don’t understand, but I hope they’ll try.
“Don’t touch our food.”
My head whips around to see the guy from earlier, along with a few of his friends. They’ve always been mean, but I didn’t expect this.
“He can touch whatever he wants.”
“Beckham, leave it,” Sully says.
“She’s not one of yours to order around,” a woman says, joining them.
“Sh
ut up,” I growl at her.
“What? Are you going to start covering yourself up, and praying to some Al-ah.”
“It is Allah, and our God is the same one,” Sully says quietly.
“My God doesn’t believe in killing innocent people,” one of the men tells him.
“Nor does mine.”
They won’t stop. “Lies. He probably poisoned our food. Does he have a gun?”
Sully lifts his hands, so his t-shirt lifts past his abs. He has on a pair of basketball shorts with Dylan’s name on them, and there’s no place he could easily hide a weapon. I pull at his arm, because he doesn’t need to do this.
“Leave. Him. Alone.”
“I cannot believe you would bring one of them here! We have children! What were you thinking, Beckham?”
This came from the sweet old woman who used to babysit me. “He is a good man, and I wanted my parents and the people I thought I respected to meet him. I didn’t expect this level of hate and bigotry from all of you.”
“It’s not worth it, Beckham.”
I look up at Sully, and see the indifference on his face. It’s not real, though. He feels this hate, as I do. I know he does.
“You are worth it.”
I need him to believe that. There is a bigger crowd around us now, and they just won’t leave him alone.
“What have you done to her? Have you brainwashed her somehow?”
“Where is your turban?”
“Do you have friends coming to shoot us?”
“How dare you wear Gallagher’s name, terrorist!”
“Someone take the children inside!”
“Shut up!” I roar. “All of you, just shut up!”
“We’re going to go inside,” my father says, leading us away.
The crowd continues taunting Sully, and at one point I turn, ready to fight them all. He stops me once again. “It’s not worth it.”
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