“Maybe you should take those flowers and put them somewhere else,” I suggested.
“Why? They’re for you. Jay went all out with this arrangement.” She turned the vase this way and that until she found the perfect position to highlight each individual petal.
Damn it. They were beautiful.
“Whatever,” I muttered and threw the blankets up over my head.
* * *
Post Funeral—Day Three
“As God is my witness I’ll never go hungry again,” Scarlett O’Hara said on the screen.
I sniffled as I watched Gone with the Wind for the umpteen millionth time in the course of my life. You could never see it too many times in my opinion.
“I love Clark Gable.” A dreamy sigh accompanied my admission. “Rhett Butler is like the perfect book boyfriend. He showers her with affection, treats her like a queen, and tries so hard to get her to love him. Then he totally goes all alpha and is like ‘Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn’. Even being an ass and leaving her makes you want him.”
“I know,” Kim said around a spoonful of ice cream as she sat on the couch next to me. “I’m so glad Jay had this delivered today. And that I called into work.” She bumped my shoulder with hers, and we giggled at that.
“Even though I wish he’d go away and stop making me think about him, I’m glad he did too. It’s therapeutic.” I dipped my spoon into my own ice cream and pulled out a huge bite.
The digitally remastered collector’s edition discs of the movie were sure to become the highlight of my collection and were very thoughtful of Jay.
Last night he called me, but I let it go to voicemail. Then he sent me text after text until finally, I caved with a roll of my eyes and a grin on my face when I texted him back. I hated myself for caving. Jay was a weakness of mine for sure. I only hoped that over time the urge to talk to him or be with him lessened.
“You sure the two of you aren’t getting back together? He seems a bit determined to show you he cares.”
“I’m sure. He’ll give up eventually.”
* * *
Post Funeral—Day Seven
A driver knocked on the front door to Jeff’s house. I could hear muffled words between him and the maid for several minutes before there was a knock on the door to the sunroom where I was sitting.
“Miss Victoria, there’s a driver here to take you to your hair appointment,” Maria told me.
“There must be a mistake. I don’t have a hair appointment.” I could sure use one though. I was overdue and too frightened I might find split ends if I looked closely.
“He assures me you do. Please come see.” She motioned for me to follow her. Reluctantly, I pushed myself out of the chair I was in and joined her at the front door.
“Hello,” the nice older man greeted from his perch at the door. “Tori Watson?”
“Yes, that’s me. I’m afraid there has been a mix up of sorts. I don’t have a salon appointment today.”
“I was told you’d say that.” He gave me a wide grin like he was privy to information I wasn’t. “Mr. Santiago arranged for the appointment for you. A Mr. Ken Paves is waiting for you at the Blanc Hair Salon.”
“Ken Paves?” I asked incredulously. Everyone knew who he was. He was a reigning God over hair thanks to Jessica Simpson. And he was going to put his hands on my head?
“Yes, ma’am. If we don’t get going we’re going to be late and Mr. Santiago was very specific when he said you should not be late.”
“Of course. I’ll be right back. I just need to grab my things.” Excitement coursed through me as I raced upstairs to throw on more presentable clothes and a quick layer of makeup. I was meeting Ken Paves after all. I couldn’t have him seeing me looking like a bum.
Damn that Jay. He sure knew how to perk a girl up. I bit my lip as I descended the stairs. The line between us was starting to blur. I couldn’t find it in me to give a shit though. Especially not when I was off to have my hair done by a celebrity stylist.
* * *
Post Funeral—Day Ten
A knock on my bedroom door had me coming out of the bathroom in just a robe and a towel tied around my hair. A quick glance at the clock showed it was nearly nine at night. Must be Jeff, I thought.
Opening the door, my eyes were met with the sight of Jay in baggy shorts and a wife beater. I tried hard not to notice how good he looked in his bad boy way, but I wasn’t that strong. My eyes widened, my jaw slackened and drool pooled at the corner of my mouth.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, and moved out of the doorway so he could enter the room.
I pulled the towel from my head and sat at the vanity to brush my wet locks. A strangled noise came from him as his eyes raked over my body from my pink toenails to the top of my head. The robe had parted when I sat down, exposing a good amount of my legs. Glancing from his reflection in the mirror of the vanity to the front of my robe, I noticed that my cleavage was exposed as well. The swells of my breasts evident through the parted material.
“You’re killing me,” he groaned and flopped back on the bed. His eyes never left me though and they ricocheted from my legs to my boobs.
I shook my head in mock disgust and said, “You boys are all predictable.”
Leaving my robe parted, I decided to continue his torture. Served him right.
“You haven’t told me what you’re doing here,” I reminded him.
“Sorry. All the blood rushed to my cock leaving me speechless.” I laughed at his joke, but then sobered when I realized he looked serious. “Got a gift for you from Jazzy.”
He pulled a homemade card from his back pocket and held it out to me. I stood up and tightened my robe before walking over and plucking it from his fingers, careful not to touch him for fear I’d give in to the urges I had to be with him again.
Looking at the card, my heart immediately squeezed with love for his daughter. The front was a stick figure picture of her and me holding hands with lots of daisies and hearts surrounding us. With shaky hands, I opened the card to see her words stretched across the white paper from end to end.
Don’t be sad. I miss you. Love, Jazzy.
I couldn’t help the big smile or the watery laugh I let out at the thoughtfulness of the little girl. She was so special. A rare gem that I was fortunate to have a part of my life.
“You like it?” Jay asked. His head was tilted as he studied me.
“Love it,” I assured him. “Did you put her up to it?”
He shook his head and stood from the bed, coming to me and resting his hands on either side of my neck. “My girl loves you. Just like I do.”
“Jay—”
“I need to get going. Keesha’s watching her while I’m over here. I wasn’t sure you were ready for her to come over yet and I don’t want to leave her alone too long. You okay that I can’t stay tonight?”
My heart shuddered. He could be so sweet when he wasn’t breaking my heart. “I’ll be fine.”
His warm lips brushed mine twice before he pulled back. He gave me a beautiful smile, but he made no moves to leave.
“Go,” I urged him. I gave him a smile of my own to let him know I wasn’t upset he was leaving. “Go be with your daughter.”
“Alright. Sweet dreams, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He kissed me lightly again and then headed for the door.
“Bye,” I said to his retreating back.
He turned at the door and blew me a kiss. I laughed at his uncharacteristic silliness as he winked and shut the door behind him.
Sitting back down to finish brushing my hair, I couldn’t help the dopey grin on face.
* * *
Post Funeral—Day Fourteen
Regardless of how sure I was on day three after my father’s funeral, Jay hadn’t given up yet, and I was screwed. Every time a new gift arrived, I tried to return it. Well… for the most part, anyway. When I couldn’t return it, I tried to dislike it. That was near on impossible. Jay and his attention
to detail was wearing on me. Slowly chipping away at the flimsy wall I had erected around myself.
Flowers, chocolates, spa trips, music, books, and movies were just some of the things that either got delivered or he brought to me over the last two weeks. It seemed as though he paid perfect attention to my likes and dislikes over the course of our friendship and subsequent relationship. How could you stay mad at someone who not only remembered your intimate thoughts, but also took the time and effort to make them come true?
My favorite gift by far had to be the professionally matted and framed portrait of my mother, father, and myself that he found in my belongings when I was living there. The black and white picture was elegant and utterly gorgeous in the modern frame that he chose. What made it so special was the fact that it was the last picture taken about six months before my mother died. Every time I looked at it, I smiled remembering the happy times. And the more I looked at it, the more they came to me. They were quickly erasing the horrible pain that sat in my chest at the thought of them both being gone. I supposed that was his plan all along. To give me sweet to take away the sour. Just like I always wanted to do for him.
Almost every night Jay showed up and held me while I fell asleep. It wasn’t sexual in nature. He just crawled into bed, wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. He would whisper sweet things like how beautiful I was or how much he loved me as I drifted off to sleep.
I know what you’re probably thinking. It went against my plan to stay away from him by letting him lavish me with gifts and sleep in my bed. We were broken up, and I was well aware of it. I just couldn’t stop myself from indulging. I needed comfort and security, which is what sleeping in his arms gave to me. But most of all, I needed to know I was still important to someone, and he made sure that was crystal clear in his words and actions.
I told myself I would give this to myself just once. Soak up what he was giving and then the next time I’d send him away. It just never happened that way. The next night I found myself rationalizing all over again.
I wasn’t ready to admit that he was making me better. Making me feel normal again—more like myself.
There was a fence that I was teetering on top of and I was ready to topple over the side and into Jay’s waiting arms. I could feel my resolve crumbling and becoming non-existent. It was slightly terrifying actually.
“Hey,” I answered my phone when I saw Keesha’s face pop up on the screen.
“How you doing girl?” She asked, and I rolled my eyes at the concern in her voice. Had I really been so bad that two weeks later I still had people walking on eggshells around me?
“I’m fine. Just reading a new book. What’s up? Shouldn’t you be getting some work done?” I teased her.
Setting my book down on the table next to my chaise, I tucked my feet up under my butt and got more comfortable.
“I wanted to see if you were busy. The boys are recording a song and need some vocals. They’ve requested I drag your ass down here and make it happen. You know you need to do it just to help me keep my status as the baddest bitch here who can accomplish anything.”
“Do you really think guilting me into doing it is going to work?” Like I would really say no. I adored recording in the studio. I had planned to ask Jay if I could do background vocals more frequently, but had never got around to it so this was an excellent opportunity.
“Well… yeah,” she said like I was dumb.
“Fine. You know me too well. What time?” I looked at the clock and was surprised to see it was already two o’clock. Time flies when you have a good book.
“Say four o’clock?”
“Jay isn’t going to be there is he?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing him again today. I wasn’t ready to stop being stubborn, and I didn’t want him to rush me into making a decision as big as taking him back.
She paused for a second before clearing her throat. “No. I don’t think so.”
“You are such a bad liar!”
“Alright. You got me. He’s here.”
“I should refuse now that you lied to me. You’re lucky I love you.”
“Back ‘atcha babe. Now get ready. I’m looking forward to seeing you,” she said into the phone, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
“Me too. See you soon.” I hung up the phone and stared longingly at my Kindle. I really did want to keep reading more about Elizabeth, the personal concierge and Grant, her shit hot client. Someone else’s drama was better than my own. Besides, I wanted to see what happened on their Valentine’s Day trip. If it was anything like the earlier chapters it was sure to get me hot and bothered.
With a sigh of regret, I pulled myself from my chair and headed towards the bathroom to shower.
Butterflies bloomed in my chest at the prospect of being back at Rucker Records and in the studio with Jay. It felt like old times. I was definitely screwed.
* * *
Keesha squealed when I walked in her office. She jumped up and rounded the desk taking me in her arms. I gave her a tight squeeze in return, grateful that she cared so much about me.
“I’m so excited you’re here. The boys are too. It’s like Christmas morning for them,” she said after letting me go.
“Why? It’s no big deal.” I couldn’t understand their reaction. It was just background vocals.
“If you honestly don’t get why they miss you then you’re not very smart.” She gave me a look of annoyance and crossed her arms.
“Wait. What? They miss me? Me?” I pointed to myself, confused by this news.
“Yes, you!” She exclaimed. “You’re a riot to be around. Most people at the label miss you now that you don’t work here. They’ve all been harassing Jay about you leaving and how he needs to bring your ass back here. Even Marsha in accounting who gives everyone the stink eye.”
I laughed at her description of Marsha. It was so very true. “Well, I miss everyone too. A lot. Even Marsha.”
Going back to work at the label had crossed my mind a time or two. Now that I was feeling more like myself, it made sense to make some real plans for my future and working at Rucker Records was a great career choice. Plus, I did miss everyone.
“Then come back. Jay wouldn’t let me hire anyone to replace you.” Keesha read my mind.
We started walking towards the elevators that would take us down to the studio space. She pressed the button and leaned against the wall.
“I’m offended you thought I was replaceable,” I joked with her. I really didn’t take it personally that she was doing her job. The business still needed to run with or without me.
“Never!” She joked back.
We rode the elevator down to the basement and exited towards the main studio, which was the largest and Jay’s favorite. I pushed the door open and was greeted by extremely enthusiastic men. A quick glance told me Jay wasn’t there, and I felt disappointed. I didn’t have much time to think on it though, because Jerome, Mike, Plado, and Zeke took turns giving me bear hugs and kisses. Jerome even attempted to kiss my mouth, but I successfully turned my head before his lips met mine.
“You’re a dog,” I told him. All at once everyone in the room broke out in laughter. “What?” I was suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“It’s dawg,” Mike corrected me.
“That’s what I said.” My hands went to my hips, and I leaned in with attitude.
“No you said dog,” he corrected me. Incorrectly, I might add.
“This is stupid. That’s what I said!” I threw my hands up in the air.
“D-a-w-g. Dawg. Not d-o-g. We aren’t going to start barking and doing tricks for you. Although Jay might.” They all started laughing again after Mike spelled it out for me. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t incorrect. Maybe I was just idiotic.
“Whatever. Are we going to do this or not? Because I have a hot date with a sexy man named Grant tonight and wouldn’t mind getting back to him.”
The room instantly went still and glances
were exchanged between each and every one of them. It made me uncomfortable.
“What?”
“You have a date?” Keesha asked when no one said anything.
“I guess. I’m reading a book and the character’s name is Grant.” Then it dawned on me why they were worried. “Ohhh… you thought I actually had a date. Nope. I can honestly say that isn’t happening.”
“Good. ‘Cause none of us wanted to be the one to tell Jay that,” Jerome was the first one to speak.
Wanting to be done with that topic, I semi-repeated my earlier question, “Are we going to do this?” I clapped my hands and rubbed them together.
“Get in there, sweet cheeks.” Plado swatted my ass playfully before he opened the door to the isolation booth. Once inside, I picked up the headphones and settled them on my head.
“The lyrics are on the stand,” Jerome’s voice came through the headphones.
I nodded and flipped the sheet, looking over the lyrics. My breath caught when I saw Jay’s name at the top of the sheet.
“I’m singing for Jay?” I croaked out behind a suddenly dry throat. Why the thought of singing with him made me nervous, I wasn’t sure. But it did.
“Yeah,” Jerome answered.
“I thought Nessy was recording this. He… he said she was contracted to do his next song.” I didn’t understand what was happening. He had just told me the night before that he had new material to record and that he was stuck with her due to a contract.
“He’s got a new leading lady,” Jerome said with a chuckle. “You ready?”
Was I ready? I. Did. Not. Think. So. My palms were clammy, and my stomach was a ball of nerves.
I took a sip from the bottle of water on the stand and lied and said that I was ready.
The music started and once Jay’s voice came over the headphones and my eyes tracked the words on the page there was no way I could pay attention to what was expected of me. All rational thought left my brain as I soaked in the words.
Urban Love Prophecy Page 27