His Light in the Dark

by L. A. Fiore

  “All kidding aside, you either have to come to terms with the reality that you and Cole will never be and let him go or you need to take the bull by the balls and make your move.”

  But if I made my move he would be forced to put into words what his distance implied and hearing him speak the words I feared, I’d lose the frays of hope I held on to that one day it’d be different.

  “You’re not there yet.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be there, Janie.”

  “Want me to kick his ass?”

  That felt good, laughing when I wanted to cry. “Maybe.”

  “You let me know. Okay so, I’m thinking about getting my clit pierced. Heard it really kicks up the intensity of an orgasm. What do you think?”

  “I think I need wine for this conversation.”

  Returning to the office after lunch, less the wine since it was only lunch, my eyes were twitching thinking about piercings in places that had no business being pierced. A shadow fell over me and looking up I saw Freddie with an older man who looked like a more sophisticated version of him. Frederick Tatum Senior.

  “Mia, this is my father, Frederick, and he wanted to meet you.”

  He did? Why? Nervousness burned through me. Was I getting fired? Had Freddie boy bad-mouthed me enough that daddy was giving me the boot?

  “Miss Donati. I just wanted to meet the young woman whose work has been exemplary, particularly being so new to the department. You are a valued asset and I didn’t want too much time to pass without telling you as much.”

  The temptation to look around the office for the hidden cameras almost had me doing so. “Ah, thank you.”

  “I’ve been telling Fred here that this department needs more hard workers like you.”

  Freddie’s reaction to that was like he’d just been smacked hard upside the head. His gaze slicing to me, anger and something else dark lurked there.

  “Thank you, Mr. Tatum. I enjoy the work.”

  “Excellent. We want to keep you happy. Don’t we Fred?”

  “Yes, indeed.” And yet those words were forced. Clearly there was an undercurrent to this conversation but I couldn’t lie, I enjoyed seeing Freddie uncomfortable; enjoyed it far more than I should.

  The following day every time I saw Freddie I couldn’t help my smirk, remembering his discomfort caused by his own father. There were clearly some familial issues going on and I had the sense I’d been used as a weapon in that battle. Was it possible that Freddie’s dislike of me stemmed from his father’s praise? If so, that put an entirely different light on the situation at work, one that I could potentially work around to find the peace I so wanted at the office. How to go about bringing the change I sought eluded me because if what I suspected was true, the only way to soften Freddie’s opinion of me would be to start slacking in my job and that just wasn’t something I could do. I’d have to ponder the situation, but at least I had hope that things might improve. That was a step in the right direction.

  After work I stopped by Aunt Dee’s and just reached for her door when it opened and a woman appeared, Cynthia. Clearly my mother wasn’t just a prostitute, but a very well paid one. Dressed in designer clothes, she looked like the picture of success. My aunt appeared just behind Cynthia, her face red from temper.

  My focus turned back to Cynthia when she said, “Mia?”

  Even her voice had changed, her words perfectly articulated and cultured.

  “Cynthia.”

  “Now is not the time, Cynthia. If and when Mia decides to contact you, it will be on her terms.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  A slight hesitation followed before she said, “I hoped that Dee would encourage you to meet with me.”

  “For what purpose? What could we possibly have to talk about? Perhaps you wanted to discuss the fact that you walked out as soon as I was born and never looked back. Or maybe you wanted to explain why you didn’t come to my dad’s funeral. Is that what you had in mind when you said talk?”

  “I’ve made mistakes, but we’re family.”

  “I think our definitions of family are quite different. You’re not my family. I don’t know you and I have no desire to get to know you. Coming here and harassing my aunt is not going to encourage me to change my mind on that. Leave her alone and leave me alone. If I have a change of heart, I’ll get in touch with you. We clear on this, Cynthia, or do I need to use smaller words?”

  Temper burned in her eyes, which was in contrast to her almost whiny plea. Aunt Dee had said this woman was self-serving and considering the persistence she was demonstrating in her wish to speak with me, I suspected that was true. I couldn’t lie; my curiosity piqued, enough to contemplate accepting her invitation for no other reason than to see what she really wanted.

  She pulled a card from her purse. It looked like a business card, but there was no company logo on it; it just had her name, phone number and email address. “I hope you’ll call me, Mia. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  The words were out before I could stop them. “Whose fault is that?”

  There it was again, temper staring back at me which contrasted her calm voice, “It was nice to finally meet you.”

  She didn’t wait to hear my response and moved down the street on her four-inch spiked designer heels.

  “What was that all about?” I asked Aunt Dee as soon as Cynthia disappeared around the corner.

  “I have no idea. She wants to talk to you, but I’m not sure why. She was going on about Mace, but she wasn’t making any sense.”

  “What did she have to say about Dad?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I think she’s just feeling guilty and has a bit of regret that she treated him as she did now that he’s gone.”

  “Talk about a complete 180. She looks amazing.” I said begrudgingly since as much as it grated to acknowledge it, she really did look great. Aunt Dee looked uncomfortable so I added, “I know what she is.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, overheard her and Dad talking at the house when I was younger. She wanted out of the poverty, looks like she’s done that.”

  “On her back.”

  “To each their own.”

  “That’s generous.”

  “Had she not been my mom, I wouldn’t hold it against her that she found a way to get out of a situation that she didn’t want. If she doesn’t have a problem being a prostitute, why should I?”

  “You’re a better person than me.”

  “Not really. You and Dad were emotionally invested, she was a link to me and she failed. As a mother she sucks and you both had every right to hate her. Since I don’t think of her as my mother, I really don’t have a feeling about her one-way or the other. How did Dad and she meet? They seem like oil and water.”

  “She grew up in the neighborhood. She was different when we were younger, so charismatic. It hadn’t been a surprise that she had caught your dad’s eye. I don’t think he ever loved her, but he liked her. And when he found out she was pregnant, he asked her to marry him.”

  “He did? Now I hate her.”

  “He did it for you because he wanted you to have both of your parents. She turned him down and then gave you up. Your dad being a mechanic, one who made a good living, wasn’t heading in the direction that Cynthia wanted: out and up.”

  “I’m glad he didn’t marry her. ”

  “So am I because he would have ended up killing her and I would have had to help him with burying the body and even that is far more effort than she deserves.”

  “You’re a little cutthroat, Aunt Dee. I like that.”

  “It’s in the blood, darling.”

  “Maybe that’s why I’m constantly plotting my boss’s death.”

  “That and the man’s an asshole.”

  “Truer words, though I’ve had a bit of an epiphany regarding his attitude toward me.”

  “Really? Do tell, but first let’s get a glass of wine.”

  My epiphany
regarding Freddie wasn’t the only one I had. Seeing Cynthia, her persistence with wanting to talk with me, forced me to see myself in a similar light when it came to Cole. And as much as the situations were different—genuine affection existed between Cole and me unlike the non-relationship I shared with my mother—it didn’t change the fact that he wanted me to stay away and yet I didn’t heed that wish. I didn’t know why he wanted me away, why he felt he needed to keep me safe, and until I did, staying away wasn’t going to happen. Especially since I was like a moth to flame when it came to him. I had to ask him point-blank his reason for the distance between us, even fearing the answer. But one way or the other, things between Cole and me were going to be different after tonight.

  On the bus ride to Tickled Ivories after work, I recited the words I needed to say while wishing I had built up my courage with a drink or two. Pride filled me though when I reached the club because my steps were sure as I walked with determination to my destination. His office. Knocking, I didn’t wait before walking in. Cole wasn’t alone, a woman sat next to him on the sofa; really she practically sat on top of him. Pretty, older like him, and based on the look of surprise on her face, she hadn’t expected the interruption. Luckily for me, I had better timing with Cole than I had had with Janie.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Pulling the door closed, I headed for the bar. If ever there was a time for alcohol, now was it. Despite not knowing exactly what I had just walked in on, there was no denying what the woman wanted and Cole was not a stupid man. Anger whipped through me so fierce I almost walked back into his office and slugged him. I was tormented and he was having clandestine meetings with large-chested bimbos. My life sucked.

  I didn’t actually make the bar; Cole’s hand on my arm stopped me. “What’s wrong?”

  You’re an asshole and I’m a loser, that’s what’s wrong. “I wanted to talk but you’re busy.”

  “Rochelle, we’ll take this back up in the morning.”

  Her angry gaze sliced to me, clearly not happy that their interlude was being rescheduled. Feeling a bit smug, I grinned at her. If looks could kill, Cole would have a mess on his hands. She sounded remarkably calm, considering she looked crazed—like a zombie just waiting to feast on my innards. “I’ll bring coffee.”

  Oh, she’d bring the coffee. I hope her cup had a leak. I didn’t realize I actually said that last part out loud until Cole said, “That’s not nice, Mia.”

  Pulling from his hold, I continued on to the bar. “Whatever.” I needed alcohol. Signaling to Claire—we were on a first name basis; yep, that’s how often I came here. Knew the bartender so well I’d consider asking her to be in my bridal party if I ever got married—she brought me a glass of wine.

  Cole appeared at my side. “You wanted to talk.”

  “Not anymore. You can probably stop Roxy there from leaving.”

  His brow arched slightly. “Roxy?”

  “Yeah, the bimbo with the boobs and the legs. Didn’t mean to ruin your plans for the evening. I’ll just have my drink and be on my way.”

  “Mia?”

  “Cole?”

  “Are you intentionally trying to piss me off?”

  “I don’t know Cole, am I? You’ve spent a great deal of time watching me, so you must know me inside and out.”

  “You’re upset.”

  “Oh my God, give the man an award. You figured that out all by yourself?”

  The air left my lungs when he threw me over his shoulder. I didn’t immediately respond because I couldn’t believe he had actually thrown me over his shoulder. In his office, he dropped me to my feet, affording me a perfect view of the temper burning behind his eyes.

  “Talk.”

  “Talk? Fine I’ll talk. You’re so infuriating.” Pulling from him, I walked to the other side of the room. Turning back to him, he was leaning against the wall looking casual, but there was nothing casual about his focus: one aimed solely on me. “You entered my world and entwined yourself into it so effortlessly. One minute you weren’t there and the next you were like family. For three years, you were family, as close to me as my dad. And then you were gone and you wanted me away. That hurt, but I dealt. Years later you returned so altered and I fought like hell to get you back and in some ways I did, to the point that you came to my dorm, nearly made love to me and then you were gone again, emotionally out of my reach. My dad died and you’re the person who came to comfort me in the worst moment of my life. And then you fucking left me again and pulled so far into yourself that you might as well have moved clear across the galaxy. Our entire relationship has been you pulling me close and then pushing me away. And even now, you don’t want me and yet you give me heated stares like the other night and yet I find you tonight with Roxy, who may just work with you, but she’d devour you if you gave her the go ahead which you damn well know. I didn’t see you pushing her from your lap.”

  Cole didn’t move, not a muscle, his eyes burning holes into me with their intensity.

  “I don’t know if part of what keeps you from me is what happened when you were younger. Your father was a sick son of a bitch. My only regret is that I hadn’t been there to hold your coat for you while you kicked his ass. The fact that he died, karma that he should die from injuries inflicted by his son who beat him to defend himself. Perhaps that’s not the reaction you’ve gotten from others, or how you feel about it, but I know Dad felt the same way because you know as well as I do, he’d never have allowed you near me if he thought you were guilty of anything more than self-defense.

  “I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for you to come to me and I’m getting tired of waiting. I think you feel it too, but I have a terrible feeling that what could be between us will go unrealized and that, too, is a tragedy.”

  He said nothing, not one word.

  “Nothing, you’ve got nothing to say? I’m spilling my heart out here and you have nothing to say? You know what? Fine, you win. Keep your distance, live your life in the past, I’m moving on. You and me, I guess we really don’t have any unfinished business.”

  I walked away that time, my legs unsteady and my heart broken. Janie had been right, it was time for me to let him go because I’d just grabbed the bull’s balls and he had no reaction.

  “Mia, this needs to be done yesterday.”

  My boss was in a particularly demanding mood and since I was still fuming over the epic fail last night with Cole, his attitude wasn’t helping my mood. He apparently had forgotten a deadline and dropped the project in my lap and was now riding my ass to get it done in record time.

  “I’m working as fast as I can. Perhaps you could ask for an extension?”

  His expression changed, turned dark like a storm cloud. Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. “An extension is out of the question.”

  A vein popped out on his forehead. He looked like a man about to explode. If I wasn’t battling my own anger, I’d have actually enjoyed watching his temper tantrum.

  “You work for me, so my deadlines are your deadlines.”

  “But I can’t work on something if I don’t even know about it.”

  “You know about it now, so stop arguing and get back to work.”

  He stopped my work when he stomped to my desk like a spoiled child. I was tempted to say that and possibly trip him when he marched off, but what would be the point? I really needed to find a new job.

  When the clock struck five, I was so ready for a drink, several in fact. As usual, I completed the project but received not one word of thanks. Shutting down for the evening, I grabbed my purse and headed for the elevators. My boss’s light was still on which was odd since the man never stayed past five. Not wishing to get caught by him and pulled into whatever work he needed to stay late to do, I took the stairs. Once outside, I breathed deeply as I walked toward the bus. I didn’t usually drive to work since the bus got me there so much faster; plus, getting street parking around South Street was not easy and having a spot almost in fron
t of my building, I wasn’t moving my car.

  Checking my watch, I picked up my pace since I was meeting Kevin Lowell in an hour. Normally, I’d have ignored his invite, but after last night I needed a distraction because if I thought too long on Cole, it was likely I’d burn his club down. I refused to think about him, about last night. I’d thought and had fought for him enough over the years. It was his turn. Kevin was a few years older than me, we had met through Janie my last year in college and though I tried dating him, the truth was, I didn’t like him very much. On the outside he was perfect: hair perfectly coiffed, perfectly tailored clothes, perfect features. He reminded me of the Stepford Wives—too perfect and just under that perfect veneer lurked ugly. He needed to control everything: where we ate, what we ate, whom we socialized with. Even in the bedroom, he sought control. The one and only time we slept together, it had been consensual but it hadn’t been love making, it had been fucking. I wasn’t opposed to fucking with the right person; I think fucking could be quite a lot of fun, but with Kevin it bordered on unhealthy.

  He had called out of the blue and told me he had something rather important to discuss with me. I knew he was a private investigator, but I had no idea what he could possibly have to discuss with me that I’d find even mildly interesting. But he offered to take me to the Taproom for dinner, a stone’s throw from Vincent’s, and since I had always wanted to try the place, I accepted. Shallow, absolutely, but if I got a belly full of good food, I was okay with being shallow. And since my date was equally shallow, he probably wouldn’t even pick up on it.

  Dressed in one of my more stylish suits, I didn’t bother going home first. Besides I was starving. The bus dropped me off a few blocks away and being a bit early, I took my time walking. I loved this neighborhood, still came back often to visit Aunt Dee, but my heart was heavy walking the streets because Dad’s death was still too fresh. He had been too young. There was so much he wanted to do; so much we had wanted to do. Like visiting Vegas. Dad and I wanted to see Vegas in the worst way. We had planned a trip this past summer, a part of my graduation gift, but I didn’t go. The idea of going without him seemed wrong.