Taurus_Mr. Persistent_The 12 Signs of Love

by Tiana Laveen

  “Would you stop trying to rush me into a relationship, Heidi? I’m fine being single, really! You and Patrice act like I am somehow handicapped if I don’t have a man. That’s a ridiculous mentality and to me, it’s weakness. We don’t need anyone. We were all born by ourselves and we’re going to die by ourselves, whether we like it or not.”

  “You’re a real trip, Carmen.” Patrice grimaced, looking her up and down with heavy judgement in her eyes.

  “Look, Patrice, you’re happily married and that’s wonderful, but it’s not for me. Heidi, you’re still on the hunt for the perfect guy to settle down with, okay? When and if you find that four leaf clover I will celebrate with you but as for me, and I repeat, I’m fine in my current lane. Staci, you’ve got your hands full with your girls and believe that God will send you a husband but I don’t need any prayers for a man. I don’t want to be married and I’m fine ‘as is.’ I’m serious. I don’t get why you all can’t accept that.”

  “You’re the one making a big deal out of it, Carmen.” Staci drew hard on the straw sticking out from her Bahama Mama drink. “I think you protest too much.” The other two nodded in agreement as they tossed her a suspicious glance. “For as long as we’ve known you, you’ve made it clear that you think marriage is antiquated and silly. In fact, I will only speak for myself,” the woman said, pressing her well-manicured hand against her chest, “but I respect your opinion. I believe we all do but sometimes you act really pompous about this subject matter, Carmen and I for one am tired of it.”

  “What?!” She was mortified as she scanned all three woman’s faces who seemed to hold the same opinion as with Staci.

  “You don’t agree with us, you’ve made that clear, but that doesn’t mean you have to be so condescending about the whole notion of matrimony.”

  “I’m not!”

  “You are,” Heidi stated dryly. “You don’t mean to be, baby, I’m sure of that, but you act as if it’s not progressive and it’s holding women back. You can’t seem to fathom that highly educated, go-getter women could want to walk down the aisle in this day and age. Love is a beautiful thing and I personally have great respect for marriage.”

  “Well, that’s great, Heidi, but most people in this country don’t. The divorce rate is through the damn roof! Look at how quickly people leave one another? It’s serial monogamy. Look at how many guys cheat after the wedding vows? I’m not going to have some bastard take half of my hard-earned money. Look what happened to Mary J. Blige! Case in point. Oprah knows what she’s doing. She didn’t marry Stedman. She’s smart. And happy, too.”

  “How do you know Oprah is happy, Carmen? Have you spoken to her personally?” Patrice chuckled at Heidi’s words. “We’ve talked about this for a long time, baby, and I get your position, I do, but sometimes I wonder if you are saying all of that just to protect yourself.”

  “Really? How ridiculous! Protect myself from what, Heidi?”

  “From knowing that you gave your heart to someone, exchanged important vows with them, and then they hurt you. As long as you don’t believe in marriage, you’re safe. Sounds like the easy way out. That’s the type of protection I’m talking about. You can judge us, but we can judge you, too. We’re all adults here. We care about one another. Again, I know you didn’t mean any harm, but you come at us so hard about this topic, Carmen, every time it comes up, that it really makes me wonder if you’re just scared…”

  They all drew quiet and stared at her. Several seconds passed, but they felt like an eternity.

  “So, anyway, he sent over some designs and I loved them!” She cleared her throat as she steered the conversation in a more pleasant direction. “I have to follow up with him pretty soon. I’ve been a bit indecisive on which one to go with so I had my colleagues weigh in.”

  “Can we see?” Heidi questioned, softening the mood with a sweet smile.

  “What? The designs?”

  “Yeah, that sort of thing interests me.”

  “Of course. Tell me what you think.” Carmen pulled her phone from the table, scanned her emails, and found the images. Then, she passed the phone along. Her friends talked amongst themselves in low voices.

  “I like this one best…”

  “That’s nice, but this one uses the space better I think… He added a window right there; that’s a good idea.” And on they went.

  She kept on smiling, laughing, and enjoying her time with her girlfriends who had been with her through thick and thin… but though she wouldn’t admit it, Heidi’s words stung. ‘Protect yourself… protect yourself… protect yourself…” She replayed those words over and over inside her brain, fixating on them. For the first time in years, she asked herself…

  Am I against marriage because I think it is oppressive to women or is there more to the story? Do I really believe we become our mate’s property in some regard or are my friends right about me? Am I actually afraid of marriage versus just against it? Do I feel this way because then it’s harder to get away should things fall apart? It’s the ultimate commitment. Have I been condescending to my married friends? Acting like my ideas are superior? Maybe.

  I do feel like sometimes they just follow tradition without questioning it, but does that mean all three of these women are wrong? I mean, they all come from different walks of life, have different experiences, and all have or desire marriage. I respect these women… they’ve kept it real with me for years. I trust these women… so why do I question their judgment regarding this? For years I felt like a piece of paper meant nothing, but as I look at Patrice and her husband, think about my parents celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary and all the joy they’ve experienced, I am starting to wonder… Is it me? Am I wrong? Am I projecting because of being scared shitless?

  That last question left her feeling uneasy, and she wished she could answer it with an emphatic ‘No’… but now? She wasn’t so sure…

  A few moments later they were laughing it up as Patrice described a person who’d come into her pharmacy wanting special cream to use specifically for his itchy balls.

  “Yes!” She cackled. “And he was loud, too! Poor guy was hard of hearing. He said, ‘Ma’am, it’s not for the penis, it’s for my balls!’ Everyone turned around and I busted out laughing. I apologized to him, but he didn’t say balls like you or me, he said it like, ‘bawls!’ He was from out of town.”

  They all had a good laugh at that. Suddenly, Carmen’s phone vibrated.

  “Damn it.” She stood to her feet and grabbed her purse. “Ladies, gotta go. One of my patients is at the hospital in labor. Please pay my portion of the bill and I will give you your money back.”

  “No problem! We know how you roll!” Heidi grinned as Carmen made her rounds and kissed each of them on the cheek.

  “I’ll make it up to you, promise!” She fled out the restaurant but as she made her way to her car, her phone buzzed again to alert her to a new private message coming in.

  Tristan Bellmore – Bellmore Firm

  To: Dr. Carmen Kinley

  Good evening, Carmen. I was just following up to see if you made a decision on which proposals you like best? We can get started as early as tomorrow. If you’ve changed your mind and they aren’t to your liking, please allow me to start over. I don’t mind at all. I’ll do it over and over again if need be. Either way, I want to make you happy. You’re the customer and you come first.

  She paused, smiled at her phone, and shook her head…

  CHAPTER THREE

  Got My Foot in the Door

  Potholes in the lawn was an understatement. Tristan stood off to the side with his phone up to his ear, a stack of printed notes and sketches in hand. As he stood on Dr. Kinley’s property, he was pleased to see that several of the blue beech trees, as well as silver maples, were being placed just as he’d instructed. A large cement truck blocked part of the parking lot as the dug-up walkup waited for its much-needed facelift. He’d promised the lady he’d only bring in the noisier equipment in
the wee hours of the morning and after closing time, thus causing minimal disruption to her business.

  “Thomas,” he called out, snapping his finger at one of the workers. “Thomas!” he yelled a bit louder, but the man just kept on digging, unable to hear him. “Bev, let me call you back.” He stepped briskly over the grass, avoiding the recently turned over soil.

  “Tristan, I need you here for this meeting tomorrow!” Bev screamed into the phone, her desperation clear.

  “I can’t. I have to oversee this project, just like I told you.”

  “Since when do you feel the need to babysit your guys twenty-four-seven? You’ve been over there a lot lately. Is something wrong?”

  “No, just want to make sure they do the right thing. The question is, why do you need me to babysit everyone at a routine weekly meeting for updates? That’s your job, anyway. You can handle it, so take care of it. Gotta go.”

  He disconnected the call and stomped up to Thomas who was clad in dirty denim oversized overalls. Rivulets of sweat fell down his face as if he’d been caught in a downpour. The man smelled of sweat and earth as he drove the tip of the shovel into the dirt and turned over the soil in a perfect scoop. “Thomas!” he yelled, startling the guy who suddenly jumped and blinked.

  “Goodness gracious, Mr. Bellmore! You about gave me a heart attack!”

  “Thomas, sorry about that. You didn’t hear me. And another thing, please stop calling me Mr. Bellmore. I’m thirty-eight, and when you call me that it makes me feel like I should be in a rocking chair somewhere.” The guy grinned and nodded, showcasing his pearly whites. “I’ve told you for years that Tristan is fine. Look.” He placed his hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Please make sure you don’t place these Virginia Bluebells too close to the shrubs. They are supposed to be two feet away and though I have not measured where you are digging for the shrubs from the distance that the flowers are to be, it looks to be only a foot and a half. Double check, please.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Tristan gave Thomas’ work the once over. It was almost 7:00 P.M. and the sun was going down.

  I’ll have them wrap up a bit early tonight. We can start again first thing in the morning.

  Before he could make the announcement, a pearl white Cadillac XT5 pulled up into the lot and parked next to his Mercedes. The door opened and out poured the sounds of “Body Smile” by DVSN. One long leg, clad in denim leggings, slid out and feet in wooden wedge shoes made it slowly to the ground. Soon, the angel stood on her feet, all five foot seven inches of her, looking gorgeous in an off shoulder red and white striped blouse and black hair piled all over her head in a messy updo. Closing the vehicle door, she swiftly approached, arm swinging and her purse over her shoulder.

  His lips curled in a smile for he realized he was in the presence of quintessential royalty, the queen of making sick pussies better and aiding in bringing new life into the world – the one and only, Dr. Carmen Kinley.

  “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” He extended his hand, shaking hers.

  “I’m sorry that I’ve been M.I.A. today,” she said with a huff. “I was attending a conference as one of the keynote speakers. I got home and realized I’d forgotten something, so I stopped by to pick up my computer. Want to take the laptop home tonight.”

  “You’ve been busy; no explanations needed for your absence today. Whether you are here or not, this situation is in good hands. I’ve got everything under control.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  She glanced around, her gaze slow and discriminatory. Her expression morphed from confused to blank, then back to the land of bewilderment in a nanosecond.

  “Trust me, in a couple of days, you won’t even recognize the place.”

  “I don’t recognize it now,” she teased, and they both shared a laugh.

  “Speaking of which, I, uh, did have time to take care of your office personally today. I figured you’d see it in the morning but since you’re here, maybe you’d like to—”

  “Of course, I want to see it right now! What a surprise!” She dug frantically in her oversized white purse and zoomed past him, key in hand, to the building’s front door. All the staff had left a couple of hours ago, and the interior was in a state of upheaval. Chasing behind her, he put pep in his step.

  “You did my office today? The whole thing? Wow!”

  “Yes. I locked it back up when I was finished, too.”

  Carmen turned the alarm off when they entered. Flicking the light on, she scanned the area, which was bare save for a few fold up chairs and a comfy couch he’d borrowed from a furniture store his firm had a contract with. The decorations, pictures, and knickknacks had been rounded up and put out to pasture.

  “I can’t believe you already totally redid my office.” She shot him a look over her shoulder as she hightailed it down the long hallway. “I just can’t get over that.”

  He purposefully kept some distance between them. Not so much that he couldn’t hear the woman, but just enough so she could take it all in. Besides, he wanted to get her full reaction, from all angles. He’d be close to her soon enough…

  Soon, he heard the jingle of her keys once again and her door swung open. As she walked into the place, he stood right outside the threshold, his heart beating fast though he was already convinced she’d love it.

  “Oh, my goodness, this is beautiful!”

  “Thank you.” He crossed his ankles and leaned against the door frame.

  “You did this by yourself? Tristan, no way!” She squealed and bopped about like a ball. Racing from wall to wall, checking things out, she talked a mile a minute. Her excitement and exuberance filled the place, becoming contagious. “You must have had magic elves helping you,” she teased. She pulled out drawers and opened closet doors, her eyes wide.

  “I promise you it was a solo act. I’m glad that it’s to your liking.”

  He stepped into the office and watched closely as she toured the place with renewed enthusiasm. Her old, rickety bookshelf full of overstuffed three-ring binders had been replaced with a large antique armoire. On the top shelf sat all of her medical books, neatly stored, and inside hung several of her jackets and coats, freshly cleaned and arranged by size and color. The lower cabinets were filled with her binders from most recent to the earliest dated; he’d had a bit of assistance from a couple of nurse aides with that task. In each corner was an olive tree planted in natural stone vessels. Her old, ratty and dusty blinds were now replaced with plantation shutters and long white drapes that tied to the sides with black sashes.

  He’d pitched her desk, the metal thing having been nothing but poorly made garbage that belonged atop a pile of rubbish in the junkyard. She moved about in circles, and he followed her wide gaze, her movements like fluid jubilee. The room had been completely decluttered. Sitting catty corner was a multi-tiered maple desk with a built-in compartment to help tuck and hide computer wires. Clear containers with rhinestone accents were filled with pens, highlighters, and paperclips. Within reach was her laptop that now had a classy protective cover to guard it from dings and spilled coffee mishaps. In the center of the room lay a large white and black striped rug with her logo printed on it, only this time it looked more like a black and white flower than, well, the womanly floret she’d depicted previously on the makeshift sign that had hung from the front of the building.

  Her overstuffed, hoarder’s paradise closet was now filled with black and white bins, the trash discarded and the keepsakes and important items labeled and filed for easy retrieval. An old-fashioned replica vintage radio sat atop a large filing cabinet, should she wish to indulge; it was pre-set on a contemporary jazz station.

  “This is so different, but I love it!” She spun around, clasping her hands together. “It’s so modern, but comfy. It smells great in here, too. What is that?” The woman closed her eyes and took a deep inhale.

  “Hmmm, yes, I put in a plug-in diffuser. Nothing fancy.” He pointed to one of the outlets wh
ere a floral-shaped electric warmer dispensed the scent of lavender all around. “There are some refills in one of your desk drawers. They typically last three or four weeks before needing to be replaced.”

  “You really outdid yourself. I have no idea how you got all of this done in one day. That’s amazing, but I’m grateful. This is so nice I never want to leave.”

  He approached her, lessening the distance between them as she sat behind her new desk, taking it all in while running her long, feminine fingers along the wood surface. He leaned over and placed his hands on the surface as he looked down at her. Their eyes locked and her smile slowly dissipated. The attraction between them was so strong, he simply stared at her, tiptoeing the line of professionalism while he contemplated his desire to toss the rules aside and kiss her.

  “Once I was told you wouldn’t be in today, I changed the schedule around. I figured this would be a nice surprise.”

  “It is… I’m surprised. Definitely astonished and amazed.” Her voice was low and sultry, her eyes never left his, and he didn’t move a muscle. On a deep breath, he stood erect and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Well, the crew and I are going to get going but I—”

  “Oh yes, of course, of course.” She grabbed her computer as if suddenly out of a trance.

  “But before I go, I wanted to ask you something, Carmen.”

  “Oh? Yes.” She got to her feet, her computer in hand, rounded the desk and approached the file cabinet. “Do you know where my hospital log is, by any chance?” She tossed him a sweet smile.

  “I believe it was placed in the second drawer of that cabinet.” She set the laptop back down, opened the drawer, and began to riffle through it.

  “You had a question?” She kept on moving about, her arms in motion… back towards him. His eyes wandered from the thick waves of her hair going in all directions to the arch of her exposed shoulder, down the curve of her spine, past the ample bulge of her ass, over the length of her legs … and up again. So sexy…