by Diana W
"Is that Elliott?" Her head was damn near out of the window.
"Where?' I asked, slowing the car down to see who she was referring to.
Sure enough, he was standing off on a side street, with the same hoe from the Hilton.
"That's her! That's the same girl!"
I couldn't pull the car over fast enough, but Denise beat me to the punch, jumping out before I even fully stopped.
"Listen, I don't know what the hell is going on between you two," she approached them first, already clapping her hands together. "But one of you better start explaining before I get the swinging." She pulled off her expensive heels. Something I hadn't seen her do since we were school age.
"Denise, I swear it's not like that! You know how I feel about your sister?!"
I headed straight for Elliott, "You love embarrassing me, don't you?!"
"Cassie, this girl is crazy man!" He started.
"Shut up! Just shut up!" I pushed him in the chest to the point of almost stumbling. "You already hurt me and just won't stop. Why?! "
"Nah, let him talk," Denise cut me off. I don't know why she was looking for explanations when it was obvious what was going on. "You got any answers, Tamale?" She directed that to who I now knew was Victoria.
"Look, me and my man were having a conversation until you interrupted," Victoria snapped with no signs of backing down.
"I'm not your man!" Elliott barked at her.
"Well somebody's lying!" I glared at both.
Victoria folded her arms and placed all her weight on one foot. "I ain't got no beef with you," she looked at me.
"Oh, bitch you had beef when you started messing with a married man," Denise took the words from my mouth as her manicured finger pointed a few inches from the girl's forehead.
"I didn't know he was married," Victoria rolled her eyes upward.
"My God," Elliott's hands went to the top of his head. "She's lying! She's really standing here lying." He almost laughed out. "Please don't tell me you believe this, Cassie," he stepped closer to me.
"This is the second time I've seen you with her Elliott. Why wouldn’t I believe her?"
"Because I love you!" He held my face. "I've never loved anyone the way that I love you! I messed up but not like this! Believe me, baby!"
I started crying as the words left his lips. Why was all of this so confusing? The proof of his infidelity was standing right there, but I could see the sincerity in his face. Could hear it in his voice.
Or was that because his ass was getting busted again?
"Cassie, baby, it's me and you. Always. Forever. You know that,” he connected his forehead to mine, wiping my tears away.
"Double moles," Victoria's voice emerged.
"What?" Denise questioned first.
"He has double moles on his right thigh," she spoke up.
I froze and closed my eyes, desperately trying to hold onto the air leaving from my lungs. "How does she know that?
The lack of speed for a response was all I needed.
I opened to regret in Elliot's eyes, "It's not in the way you think."
"Not in the way I think?" I was suddenly aware of the situation taking place, backing up away from him.
This man lying to me was not my Elliott. Not the man I loved more than myself at times. "I gave you everything,” I held my face wishing I could disappear. "I would've given you my life if you asked me to," I felt sick at the thought of that.
"Please don't do this to me," Elliott collapsed to his knees.
"C'mon Cass," Denise took my hand. "Let's get you home."
"Please don't...Cassandra...Please," Elliott's words were breaking up through his audible tears. "She's lying."
"No, you should've been a man and told her about us in the first place," Victoria continued to grill him even as we started to walk away.
"Fuck this," Denise muttered under her breath. I turned back just in time to see her casually walk up to Victoria, cock back, and clock her in the eye. The blow sent her and her long-sleeved, scrunchy dress to the sidewalk.
"That bitch was a little too mouthy for my liking," she coolly came back and cradled me in her arms as we started on our walk back to the car.
“I’m pressing charges bish since you wanna go around hitting pregnant women!” Victoria’s thick accent yelled out.
That stopped both Denise and me in our tracks. That one word was a bullet to my chest.
“She’s pregnant?” I turned back around barely able to formulate the question.
“No. No,” Elliott got up from the pavement and ran towards me frantically. “If she is, I promise you that it’s not mine!”
“She’s pregnant?” I asked again like it still wasn’t registering.
“Let’s go Cass,” I could tell Denise was trying her best not to lose it.
“You have to believe me!” Elliott was still pleading his case.
I swallowed back every vicious thing I was thinking and any hopes of a reconciliation, “Stay the fuck away from me!”
I stormed off, with Denise keeping up with every step. Both of the damn doors to my car were still wide open which surprised me that the cops hadn't shown up yet.
Denise guided me into the passenger seat, locked my seatbelt on, and carefully closed the door. She got in, started the car, and pulled off. Silence overtook the ride back home just like the trip coming.
I reached in my purse for a stick of gum for my dry mouth and Julian’s card fell onto my lap.
I picked it up and stared at it longer than I expected to, trying to figure out if it was a sign.
Maybe it was or it wasn't, but the thought of reaching out to him was now in the forefront of my mind. I didn’t see the point of spending another millisecond crying over a marriage that didn't exist anymore.
Chapter 9
I zipped up the last section of my peek-a-boo shoulder black jumpsuit. The fit and style were perfect despite taking a chance on an online store I'd never purchased from before. The last time I did that, my package showed up two months later missing a sleeve.
But I owed myself this.
Couldn't remember the last time I'd bought anything new and I figured doing it was a step in the right direction to feeling better. Even though I realized I was done with Elliott that night he made the ultimate fool of me, it took me another two weeks of crying and boxing some of his shit up to finally decide to actually dial Julian's number. Now, no way was Julian in the clear for basically ruining a portion of my collegiate life, but I didn’t mind being showered with a free meal and the chance to look kind of cute for a man that still found me attractive even though my boobs no longer defied gravity. The weird thing was Julian’s reaction when I called though. He seemed more relieved than surprised which made me think he expected me to, but I couldn't recall giving off any indication that I wanted to eventually meet up with him.
So yes, confirming a meet up with Julian did give me a push for a new addition to my wardrobe, but that didn't change the fact that it was something I deserved. Honestly, it felt weird looking for something to wear to go see an ex, in a closet I somewhat still shared with Elliott. He had yet to fully move all of his things out despite me making it very crystal clear that a reconciliation wasn’t in our future.
My phone pinged, and I assumed it to be a text from Julian with the address of the restaurant. My phone started ringing and I answered it on my way out of the bedroom and down the steps.
"Yeah."
"So, you're still going huh?" Denise questioned me for the third time in two days. She made her stance clear on the matter. It was fuck Elliott, but it was double fuck Julian.
"Yes, heading out the door now," I grabbed my car keys.
"I don't like this Cass," she sighed. "I don't like this at all."
"It's just dinner,” I reminded as I locked the front door.
"With Julian," she added.
"And?"
"And it's Julian," she fussed, "that left you high and dry. Never even tried t
o contact you. The same Julian you admitted wanting to kill yourself over!"
I squeezed my eyes shut at that reminder. That was an entirely different version of me and I was sick of it being thrown in my damn face.
"Denise!" I screamed louder than I expected as I sat in my car. "I don’t need your shit right now!"
"I'm just trying to look out for you!" She sassed.
"And stressing me the fuck out in the process!" I gripped the steering wheel. "I'm not a child and I'm not your responsibility," I ended the call before she could respond.
What was the big damn deal? She saw Elliott with her own two eyes out here disrespecting me but wants to be the moral police for a damn dinner outing. Yes, outing not date because it wasn't that. We were catching up and that was the end of it. I had no plans of doing anything past a church hug and I was tired of trying to convince her of that.
Denise was, of course, calling me back to curse me out no doubt, but I ignored it this time. I was in a pretty decent mood before her call and decent moods had been far and few between these days.
I found Julian's message and put the address he provided in my GPS. Twenty minutes later, I was pulling up to the valet stand in front of a restaurant I’d never been to before. I could've opted to find street parking, but God knows that was a challenge I wasn't up for right now with these heels on my feet.
One of the attendants assisted me out of the car and I approached the large gold entrance doors, searching for any sign of Julian.
"Ms. Cassandra Taylor?"
A petite Asian woman approached me with a smile. I was confused as to why she would be referring to me by my maiden name but then I remembered that I had no contact with Julian since before my marriage. He probably didn't know what my new last name was or that I was even married.
"Yes," I smiled, pushing a few of my freshly moussed curls away from my face.
"Please follow me," she nodded and took off in the opposite direction.
We passed up a few occupied tables of lively conversations and ended up down a darkened hallway only to enter a room of about five large red booths accented with tall black curtains on each side of them. I almost lost my footing at the sight of Julian standing from the seat of one. All black tailored suit with a black tie and shirt to match, commanding my attention.
"Thank you," he nodded to the hostess.
She returned the gesture and disappeared.
"Cass...you look," he took my hand, grazing his lips across it, "absolutely perfect."
I unexpectedly blushed, temporarily breaking the game face I made myself put on. "Thank you. And you...you look aight, I guess."
He smirked holding the sides of his blazer open. "You know I have to up my game with you."
"Whatever," I waved off.
He laughed and offered the seat to me. The fact that we were about to sit in close proximity to each other was starting to make me nervous, so I decided to be blunt about it.
"Kind of intimate for a catch up, don't you think?" I scooted into the booth.
"Or just being discreet," he took his seat. "I’m aware of your situation."
Well, that was news to me.
My head drew back as my eyes narrowed. "Why have me addressed by Taylor then?”
“Because I’m aware, not necessarily concerned."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, "So, you make it a habit of meeting up with married women?"
How often did he do this type of shit?
He brushed his hands over the scruff on his face that I decided in that moment did look pretty good on him. Gave him an edge he didn't possess back then.
"Nah, just trying to make up for lost time with you. You tell me how concerned I should be about a man who would let his woman, who looks like you, dressed like this," he bit his bottom lip, “come and have dinner with me. You'd be too busy being fucked."
I snatched the glass of already poured water and gulped it down, hoping to cool the involuntary heat radiating from my body. This was not how a conversation between us should be starting off. A few talks about what he was doing now and if he had kids, a relationship, or hell, even a damn dog, but not flirting. And definitely not talking about fucking.
How in the hell did we go from ‘hey” to “fucking”?
"Julian," I scooted away, closer to the edge of the booth, trying to create as much distance as possible. "You're being inappropriate."
"How so?" He gave me a look laced in confusion making me wonder if maybe I was overthinking this.
"Your choice of vocabulary."
"What? Fucking?"
I shifted in the seat, "Yes... that."
He slid to the middle of the booth in my direction. A mix of amusement and amorous intent in his expression.
"When has fucking," he dragged out, letting the intention hover in the air, "ever made you uncomfortable?"
I closed my eyes from the dizziness I was suddenly experiencing. The smell of his delicious cologne was attempting to swallow me whole.
"I'm not," I pushed my curls away from my face once again trying to get some air. Why was it suddenly so damn hot? "I'm not uncomfortable with the word. Just-"
"Me using it?" He slid even closer, diminishing the space I'd created. We were now sharing one side of the booth.
I was paralyzed. Stuck between wanting to end the night right there and wanting to push the limit of this conversation. Intrigued that a lewd word like “fucking” could make me uncomfortable and aroused at the same time. I shouldn't have been surprised though. This is what Julian did and had always done to me. Made me unravel whether it was emotionally or sexually. It’s why his absence sent me spiraling the way it did.
That was then. I had developed some sense of strength and willpower over the years, no matter how desirable he made himself.
“You need to simmer down,” I put my hand up ceasing his advances. “Can we actually have a conversation? You know, like adults?”
A laugh erupted from his chest, “Sure, I can do that too.” He brushed his hands over his waves and sat back but still didn’t bother moving away from me.
A waiter appeared wanting our order, but I hadn’t even had a chance to browse the menu.
“You mind if I order for us?” Julian’s eyes glanced over to me.
“Ummm, yes I actually do mind,” I replied even though I hadn’t the slightest idea of the type of food even being offered. Who’d he think he was? I barely allowed Elliott to order for me.
I continued perusing until I heard a subtle throat clear. I rolled my eyes in his direction only to see this smug look on his face.
“Order the damn food,” I mumbled.
I could tell he was trying to contain his amusement as he directed his attention back to the waiter.
“Can we get a dozen charbroiled oysters for our starter and two orders of the Redfish Ponchartrain.”
“Awesome selection and any drinks other than water for the two of you?”
What the hell? Was he going to ask what the capital of Idaho was too?
I quickly looked over the drink menu still in my hands, but I couldn’t decide which type of wine I was in the mood for. Especially around him. Couldn’t afford to be tipsy and have a lapse in judgement.
“Sex on my face.”
My eyes bucked as I looked over at Julian who was wearing a devilish grin.
“Excuse me?” I muttered out, embarrassed that he would say something like that in front of a total stranger.
“She’ll have a Sex on My Face and I’ll take a Crown and Coke.”
Oh...duh.
The waiter who was obviously in on the joke, nodded and took off.
"I wanted wine" I placed the menu on the table a tad irritated.
“Why? That's probably something you drink every day. Am I right?” He clasped his hands together on the table.
I rolled my eyes, “And if it is? I like what I like.”
“You can like what you like but step out of that little bubble every now and then. Let yo
ur tongue get a taste of something new.”
Even the way he said tongue had my mind drifting to impure thoughts.
“Anyway,” I crossed my legs. “So, cinematographer? What does that entail?”
He gave me a look that told me he knew I was changing subjects but went with it anyway. “Everything you can think of. Commercials, some indie films, and even a few music videos. The creatives explain to me what they want, and I get to make their visions a reality. Evoke emotions just from shooting at a certain angle or time of day. It’s on some mad scientist type of shit but it’s whatever for me. Whatever lets me tell a story.”
I smiled at that personal tagline of his. Whereas everyone had normal occurrences happening around them, Julian saw stories unfolding. We would people-watch for hours in the downtown area of our little college town and he would create these elaborate scenes and stories from watching strangers interact, no matter how brief it was.
“Wow, that’s a gift,” I shook my head in awe. “You’re able to have others see what you see. I’m happy you’re living your passion.”
“Thank you,” he nodded appreciatively. “Yeah it can get hectic at times. Long hours. Demanding as hell especially for artists who don’t like to get out of their damn heads sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. The seclusion of it all is the best part. I don’t ever have to be seen to make my impact.”
Hearing him describe his work reminded me so much of Elliott. I could never be upset with someone who found their purpose. I must have a knack for men who were flawlessly devoted to their crafts.
The drinks were dropped off and I stopped the waiter before he could leave.
“Hey, can I get a glass of Merlot?”
“Of course,” he nodded and disappeared.
“Really Cass?” Julian sat back and shook his head.
“What?” I shrugged. Did he think I was joking about wanting wine?
I looked at the frosted, tall glass in front of me with all the tropical fruit stuffed in it and around the rim. “Now what in the Caribbean crayon box is this mess?” I stirred the straw around a few times.
“Something you’ll appreciate,” Julian took a sip from his brown liquid filled glass.