Relationship Goals

by Christina C Jones

  I giggled. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  I tipped my head up, meeting his eyes with a grin. “Maybe in a few hours. First... I have to make sure your dick goes down.”

  11

  #NICK

  “Oh, shit, they let you out the sweatshop bruh?”

  “Man, chill,” Parker laughed, shaking his head at my reaction to seeing him out. We slapped hands and bumped shoulders, and I tried to remember the last time I’d seen him in person. Dude was always working, and with him, I knew “work” wasn’t a code name for any bullshit. He really was always working.

  “You know I had to come out and support.” He raised the glass of champagne in his hand and gestured to where Sav was standing in front of a wall covered with the logo of his cookbook, flanked by pretty women as he grinned at the camera. If any image outside of the kitchen spoke to Savion’s aesthetic, it was this one. This was Sav’s night.

  “If I play my cards right... shit, maybe y’all will throw something like this for me one day,” P laughed, swallowing the rest of the champagne in his glass.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh word? Something happen at work? They promoted you from account manager?”

  “Nah, nothing like that. Just thinking out loud.”

  “Well... you ever need to talk it through, you know I’ve got you.”

  Parker scoffed. “As many times as I’ve saved your ass, you better.”

  A hush fell over the crowd as Sav’s voice came over the sound system, announcing he was about to screen his commercial for the cookbook – the one I’d shot for him. I waved as the spotlight came to me during his shout outs, and then the lights dimmed, and the commercial played.

  I’m really fucking good at this.

  I felt free to let the full spread of my cocky flag fly in the confines of my own thoughts. The crowd oohed and ahhed over the visual playing on the huge screen, laughing and talking along as Sav gave his well-written spiel about the book, and what it meant to him. When it was over, everyone clapped. The lights came back up, indicating we should go back to whatever we were doing before, but there was a noticeable buzz of positive energy in the air, even more than before.

  They’d enjoyed the commercial, and were talking about it.

  I considered it a job well-done.

  Parker and I were still in the same place, talking about the video when a pair of women – probably friends – sidled up to us. “You’re Nick Davison, aren’t you?” one asked, with a confidence that let me know she already knew the answer to that question.

  “I am,” I told her anyway, extending a hand. “You are...?”

  “Catherine – well, Cat. And this is Kim,” she said, gesturing at her friend. “And you are even finer in person. Who’s your friend?”

  I chuckled. “This is my single homeboy, Parker.”

  “Hi Parker,” they said in unison, and I noticed Kim moved closer to him, as if we were pairing off.

  “So... don’t you fellas want to go see what’s happening over at that open bar?” Cat asked, draping herself onto my shoulder – some shit I put an immediate stop to by taking a step back.

  “Pretty sure that’s going to depend on what you think is happening after those drinks,” Parker chimed in. He put his arm around Kim’s waist, sending a clear signal he was interested, but again – Parker was a single man. He could do that shit.

  Cat smiled. “Well... another drink. And maybe another. And then maybe a third... in our hotel room. This party is kinda boring.”

  I raised an eyebrow at the lack of self-awareness required to say that shit to us, of all the people in this room. Besides that – this event was popping – full of celebrities supporting Savion, liquor flowing, people dancing and live streaming. If that was boring, I wasn’t trying to find out what her idea of “fun” was.

  “I’m gonna have to pass, Cat. I’m nowhere near single enough to take up that offer.”

  She frowned. “I know you aren’t out here being loyal to that trash box Noah chick.”

  My whole demeanor shifted as soon as Noah’s name crossed her lips. “Yo, you can keep her name out of your mouth unless you have something positive to say, aiight?”

  Cat smirked. “Okay, defend your woman then, brother.”

  “Right?” Kim chimed, excited for no reason. “I like that – not that she deserves it. I knew that chick was a fraud.”

  “What are y’all talking about?” Parker asked, his expression a mirror of how I felt. “Noah Houston?”

  Cat and Kim nodded. “Yep,” Cat said. “Noah Homewrecker Houston. Sleeping with a married man all this time while she was spouting all that love yourself and don’t settle bullshit. A hypocrite just like the rest of these social media stars.”

  “You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, so you should probably chill with spreading misinformation,” I told her, trying to be calm, and she shook her head.

  “Ain’t no misinformation, that niggas wife came forward, saying they’re in marriage counseling trying to work it out, but they can’t move forward because he’s all stuck on Noah. It’s all on her Instagram, this woman begging Noah to leave her husband alone.”

  Parker kissed his teeth. “So it’s automatically true? For all you know, Noah doesn’t even know those damned people. She showed some pictures? Texts? Anything?”

  “We don’t need all that,” Kim said. “It’s called women’s intuition. Woman to woman, we know.”

  “Well your intuition is some bullshit,” I said, pulling out my phone as I walked away to find a quiet spot to call Noah. I ended up in Sav’s empty dressing room, where I saw I had a ton of social media notifications. Some were praise about Sav’s video.

  The others were about Noah.

  She was in Seattle this week, for another event, so I didn’t have to consider the time before I called. Instead of a voice call, I chose video. I needed to physically see if she was okay.

  She... was not.

  It was clear as soon as the call connected and I saw her puffy, red-rimmed eyes.

  “I know your friend’s event can’t be over yet, so... you must’ve heard.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I heard. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because you’re busy, Nick. You should be with your friend right now, not worrying about me. I’m gonna be okay. It’s just still fresh.”

  “Dude is surrounded by plenty of people right now, he isn’t even thinking about me. Tell me what the hell happened?”

  From the angle, I could tell she was laid back in the hotel bed, but then the camera went crazy as she sat up. A few seconds later, her face was back on the screen. “Well... you remember I told you about my ex – Sam, the one who showed up at my place that day?”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna kill him when I see him.”

  “Nick...”

  “You’re crying, Noah.”

  “I know, but please, Nick. Just listen for now.”

  I was still gonna punch that motherfucker in his face, but for now, I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Well, when he came by that day, apparently he called himself wanting to apologize to me, for everything, one last time. Closure, I guess. But I have him blocked, in every possible way I can short of a restraining order, so showing up there was the only way to get to me. Since you were there though, he left. He mentioned all of this in the couple’s counseling he’s doing with his wife, and for some stupid reason, he told her who I was, and she got irate. Stormed out of the session, and took her rage straight to Instagram to tell the world I’m a homewrecker.”

  I scoffed. “But you’re not. This dude lied to you, for a long ass time, and as soon as you found out the real deal, you stopped it cold. It wasn’t even like that!”

  “I know that. He knows that. And she knows that. She doesn’t care. She’s hurting about her marriage, so... she wanted to hurt me too. I get it.”

  “Wait,” I frowned. “You’re not excusing this shit, are you?”

/>   “No! Not excusing it, I’m just saying I get it. Hurt people, hurt people, and I ended up in the line of fire. It’s my own fault. I keep thinking I should have known better. Like there had to have been some sort of sign, and I missed it.”

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this!” I demanded, pissed this was the route she was taking. It was silly to be surprised – her attitude fell right in line with her mandates of personal responsibility, but shit. This was taking it too far. “Noah, listen – I know you want to try to understand and relate and empathize and all that shit with everybody you encounter, but like you told that girl at your event, sometimes you have to say fuck them. This is not okay. You didn’t insert yourself into somebody’s marriage – you were pulled in, blindly. That is their issue, and they don’t fucking get to take their problems out on you.”

  On the screen, Noah swiped tears from her face and shook her head. “That sounds good Nick, but what am I supposed to do? The damage is done. People are going to see this and believe it. Of course I’d claim I didn’t know. Of course I’d say I stopped as soon as I found out. I don’t have any proof. Anything I say looks as if I’m trying to save face.”

  “But at least you’ll have put the truth out there. People will decide who they want to believe, and yeah some are going to stick with the wife, but that’s okay. Your light is way too bright to be dimmed by something like this. You’ve done too much good, touched too many people. Don’t give into the urge to shrink.”

  She didn’t say anything right away, just kept her head bowed as she gave in to a moment of quiet, heartbreaking sobs that made me want to put “Sam’s” head through a wall. “I wish I was at home,” she said finally, laying down again. “So I could talk to my grandmother. Or there in LA, with you.”

  “So do I gorgeous. Tell me what to do to make it better.”

  A little smile came to her face. “Just the fact you care enough to want to make it better is sufficient for now. I’m tired though. Drained. I’m going to try to sleep. I have to be up early to prepare for tomorrow’s event.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you go so you can get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Of course. Bye.”

  I didn’t want to let her off the phone, but if sleep would help, I wasn’t about to keep her from it.

  Besides... I had something in mind.

  #

  I felt a certain sense of deja vu as I hung toward the edge of the room with the crew, trying not to be seen. Once again, the room was packed full of women, but it wasn’t them I was trying to avoid this time – it was Noah.

  Even though I wanted to surprise her, I couldn’t resist seeing her in action at these events. Today, her mood was noticeably subdued, but I could tell she was giving the crowd every bit of energy she had – as usual.

  “Good looking out,” I told Rashad, who was standing beside me, camera in hand. I felt like it was one of the safest places to avoid Noah spotting me – As a rule, she didn’t look at the camera when she was doing these things.

  Rashad had taken on more than a photographer role today though – he’d been the one to coordinate me getting in. He was the key to me being able to – hopefully – put Noah in a better mood. It was cold in Seattle, and my joints weren’t happy about it, but if this all put a smile on Noah’s face, it would be worth it.

  She’d already answered several questions from the crowd, but then the mic went to a woman whose whole vibe was off.

  “So, Ms. Noah,” she started, and I already knew this was about to be some bullshit. “You talk a lot about being good to other women, not accepting table scraps, all of that, but apparently, you don’t live it. I’ve been a fan of yours since that fro on your head was a buzz cut big chop, and I feel betrayed, finding out you’re a hypocrite. You tell us you live this stuff you preach, but then we find out you’re sleeping with somebody’s husband! What’s up with that?!”

  As soon as the woman lowered the mic, handing it back to a shell-shocked looking production assistant, the crowd went up. Out of nowhere – or so it seemed, security stepped forward, watching to make sure nothing popped off as people shouted – at Noah, and at each other.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Noah’s clear voice rang out as she stood. When she reached the middle of the stage, she propped a hand on her hip, her face set into an expression that was entirely too neutral to be natural. Just those three words had quieted the crowd, and all eyes were on her, rapt.

  “Pull out your phone and record, livestream, whatever, because this is the one and only time I will address this. I am only doing it because as that beautiful sister said a minute ago, some of you have been with me from no hair to too much hair. I feel like I owe you these words – I would never give anybody a line of advice, an affirmation, a cliché, and old wives’ tale, whatever, that I did not absolutely believe, and try to live by. I hold myself to the same standards I ask you to place on yourselves. I have not ever, and I will not ever knowingly engage in an intimate relationship with someone who is committed – or supposed to be committed – to someone else. I’m a selfish lover – I do not care to share. That’s not my thing, it never has been, and it never will be. I conducted myself with a level of naivety I warn others about, and you’d better believe I learned my lesson. Currently, my interests lie with one man, and one man only, and he has no marriage licenses on file in the United States or any of its territories. That is more than I should have to say, and all I am going to say about that. I will not be accepting questions about it.”

  Overwhelmingly, her response was met with a round of applause, but a few people got up and left. I looked to Noah, watching for her reaction, but she seemed unbothered, focusing instead on the people who’d chosen to stay.

  As if she felt me watching here, suddenly Noah’s eyes were right on me, going wide as she recognized my face. For a second, it was like she was frozen, but then I raised my hands to join her applause, and a little smile crept over her face. Because I was watching her so closely, I saw the signal she gave the event host, who stood up, mic in hand.

  “Okay ladies... let’s move on to the next question.”

  #

  “Nick!”

  The pure joy on Noah’s face when she came around the corner after taking pictures and signing autographs made the trip feel worth it. She launched herself into my arms, not caring that even though the crowd had thinned, the backstage area was still populated.

  “How long have you been planning this?” she asked, between kisses, and I shook my head.

  “I haven’t, since I knew you had a trip to San Diego coming up. But when I saw your face last night... I knew what I needed to do.”

  Noah bit down on her lip, then shifted her gaze away from me. “Um... let’s go to my dressing room?”

  “Lead the way, gorgeous.”

  Noah’s movements were slow as we made our way to her private dressing room, allowing me to take it easy on my aching joints. As soon as we were inside, with the door closed, she rounded on me.

  “Are you okay? Do you need pain relief?” she asked, and I frowned.

  “How in the world did you—”

  “You flinched. When I grabbed you, earlier. You flinched, because you’re having a flare-up, aren’t you?”

  “It’s the weather,” I assured her. “I’m not used to the cold.”

  Noah raised an eyebrow. “It’s like high forties today...”

  “I’m from LA.”

  “Fair point,” she laughed. “But seriously, you’re good?”

  “Yes,” I insisted. “Now close your eyes. I know you didn’t think I showed up empty-handed, right?”

  Her eyes went big. “I get another surprise?”

  “You do. Come on. Sit down right here, and close your eyes, okay?”

  She gave me a suspicious look at first, but then nodded, taking the seat I’d offered and closing her eyes. I went to the open box Rashad had helped me sneak into the room earlier and carefully picked it up, keeping it balanced as
I approached her. I put the box down beside her, and then lifted the contents out, carefully placing it in her hands.

  “Ah!” she shrieked, her eyes springing open in response. Her gaze came to me in confusion at first, but then her expression changed as the fluffy, chocolate-colored puppy in her lap put its paws on her chest, wiggling excitedly as he licked her face. “Nick... how did you...?”

  “You mentioned it to me before,” I said, taking a seat on the other side of her to get off my feet. Her hands closed around the happy puppy with a gently touch, stroking his soft fur until he sat down, apparently pleased. “You didn’t say what kind, but you mentioned you’d been wanting one for a while. I made a call last night to a friend who runs a shelter in LA, who put me in touch with a shelter here. I already made transportation arrangements and everything to get him back home for you, and after the weekend, I’m gonna get training and all that lined up. I even made sure you can have him in your apartment.”

  I’d done all that rambling, but Noah was quiet, head tucked down as she stroked the puppy. So quiet I got a little worried, wondering if I’d made a misstep, but then she finally raised her head.

  Her eyes were filled with tears. “Nick,” she started, then cleared her throat, laughing a little as the puppy decided it was time to play again, in her lap. “The reason I never got the puppy for myself is because I couldn’t. I’ve started the process so many times, and let it go, because I didn’t want to confront what it might bring up for me. I’ve wanted a puppy for a long time, since I was a very little girl. Since... before my grandmother got me,” she said, pausing to look at me for a moment to make sure I understood the significance of that.

  I did.

  “I was a little girl in very desperate need of a friend, but I was isolated. So, I invented one. A fluffy, dark brown puppy, named Puppy. Puppy was my... escape. When I needed that, you know? We went for walks, and had ice cream, chased balls, all while I tried to pretend nothing horrible was happening to me.”

  Holy.