Cuffing Season

by Danielle Allen

  “Oh yeah, you did say that.” She sighed. “I know it sucks, but maybe you have to tell him again to make sure he knows the truth.”

  “I shouldn’t have to do all that. And even if I had slept with all five of them, that wouldn’t make me a ho either. The people spreading these rumors are perpetuating this idea that I’m some kind of gold-digging slut because over the course of the last few years, they’ve pinpointed five men who had decent financial stuff going on to link me to. Five! So, sleeping with five men in three or four years is all it takes to be labeled a ho nowadays? That’s bullshit. And if Luca subscribes to that same mentality, he’s not who I thought he was.”

  “I feel you. But I can’t see Luca listening to a podcast that is focused on giving out horrible advice and dating tips to men who don’t have a clue. So, maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with the podcast or the rumors… maybe he’s just being a typical single man. Sometimes a man is just looking for someone willing to sleep with him, and sometimes he’s looking for a relationship. And when they run game, it’s hard to know which is which. So… just because he’s MIA doesn’t necessarily mean it’s tied to that podcast.”

  I crossed the room and plopped down on the couch beside her. “Maybe. I don’t know.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “He just seemed so sincere. I believed him.”

  “Call him.”

  My eyes popped open. “What?”

  “If you call him and he blows you off, you’ll know. If you call him and he was just missing in action for the day, you’ll know.” She patted my leg. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Uhhh… he could decide to not work on my campaign. He could decide that he doesn’t want to use me in his campaign. Even worse, he could tell me that everything he said was a lie and that he was just testing me.

  She stuck her hand out. “Where’s your phone? Call him.”

  “No!” I stuffed my phone in my pocket.

  “He may be the most famous man you’ve ever almost-kissed, but he’s not famous, famous. Don’t let the fact that he’s a big deal make you forget that you are, too.”

  I smiled at my best friend as I considered her words. I appreciated her more than she knew. “It’s not that.”

  “Well, what is it? You weren’t even this bad over Randall, and you loved that man.”

  I burst out laughing. “That was different.”

  I dated Randall for a little over two and a half years and just broke up in January. He got a job in Portland, Oregon and we tried long distance for a little while, but it was too hard. It was a great opportunity for him, but I knew he wasn’t the man for me because he wanted me to leave school to follow him. As much as I loved him, when he gave me the ultimatum, I knew I had to let him go.

  “Call. Luca.”

  I sighed. “If he isn’t interested in me because he isn’t interested in me, I would be okay with that. But the idea that some bullshit makes him not want to pursue me is what gets me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he gets it.” I looked at her for a long time before saying it out loud. “Because he gets me.”

  Vanessa’s jaw dropped. “You like him.”

  “He’s okay.”

  She laughed. “Oh, you really like him. You like him, like him!”

  “It doesn’t matter because it’s over now.”

  “Because you haven’t heard from him in twenty-four hours?”

  “Yes.” I pouted, not understanding why my best friend wasn’t following my completely rational line of thinking. “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because you sound crazy.”

  “I know,” I wailed covering my face. “I know!”

  “Have you ever thought that maybe he hasn’t called you because he made a move and you didn’t reciprocate?”

  That thought crossed my mind at first. But as the voices of The Lost Boys echoed louder and louder, it became all I could focus on.

  I pursed my lips but stayed silent.

  “Call him.” She stood and slipped on her shoes. “Call him now.”

  “Fine. But if he doesn’t answer—”

  “If he doesn’t answer, we riot at midnight! But if he does answer, you tell him that you like him and that you should’ve kissed him.”

  “If he answers, I’ll just feel him out. If he doesn’t answer, I’m going to put it all behind me and focus on my show. It’s in less than a week.”

  “I think that’s a good plan.” She pointed at me. “So, call him.”

  “Okay, okay, okay,” I conceded with a dramatic sigh.

  “I’ll text you when I get home.” She blew me a kiss before walking out of my apartment.

  I laughed. She lived within the same complex, in the building next door.

  Two minutes later, I got her text message and I smiled.

  Vanessa Franklin: I’m home. Call him.

  “Okay, I’ll call,” I muttered as I stared at her text.

  Scrolling to his name, I took a deep breath.

  The phone rang.

  And then went to voicemail mid-ring.

  I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. It wasn’t quite eight o’clock so as time ticked by and my call wasn’t returned, a text message wasn’t sent, I felt more and more bothered by it. I replayed everything that happened between us—both when we were alone and when his team showed up—and I analyzed everything that we said to one another. But what made my heart clench was the way he looked at me.

  “There’s no way he could’ve been faking that,” I breathed as I tried to blink away the mental image.

  I checked my phone one more time to see if he’d reached out.

  He hadn’t.

  I fell asleep that night with my phone face down on the nightstand. When I woke up, I resisted for two whole minutes before checking my phone to see if I had any missed calls or text messages.

  I did.

  But not from Luca.

  The rational part of my brain knew he could’ve had a reasonable explanation since we weren’t together, and he wasn’t obligated to talk to me every night. But the irrational part of my brain assumed the worst, and I wasn’t quite ready to admit that my feelings were hurt.

  Just as I was about to put my phone down, it vibrated. My heart fluttered, and I hated that I hoped it was Luca.

  It wasn’t.

  Marcus: My girl and I agreed that it’s not the best time for me to be in your show or campaign. Maybe once this whole thing dies down, we can try it again. But right now, with scouts looking, I need to distance myself from this whole thing. And Veronica isn’t cool with things not being discreet. Sorry.

  I stared at my phone, processing what I read.

  He pursued me for the majority of the year. He didn’t tell me he even had a girlfriend. He paraded me all around town. He was an active participant in everything that went down at his house. And now he’s pulling out of modeling for Simply Serena because he needs to distance himself from me? Seriously?

  “I can’t even deal with this right now,” I muttered as I composed a short text in response before blocking him.

  Serena: Lose my number.

  Falling back against my pillows, I felt my anger and frustration building up. I slammed my phone down against the bed before aggressively jerking the covers over my shoulders. I still hadn’t heard from Luca. Marcus had hung me out to dry. And everyone seemed to think that my sex life was their business—when, in fact, it wasn’t. The Lost Boys made things worse with their toxic line of thinking and sexist attitudes. But the person who started the whole thing was whose head I wanted on a stick.

  Besides the fact that it was a bold faced lie, the stupid rumor shouldn’t have even been a big deal. But I realized that it changed the way people interacted with me, the way Luca communicated with me on a personal level, and the business arrangements I set up to promote my business. The way I was being judged and slandered was ridiculous because even if it were true, it was no one else’s business.

  Frustration gave way to a
nger as I considered the fact that if I were a man, none of the bullshit I was being put through would be happening.

  My phone vibrated and even though I was riled up, the idea that it might be Luca gave me butterflies.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Serena! It’s Akila. Do you have a minute?”

  I sat up in bed. “Hey! Yeah, I’m free. What’s up?”

  “You’ve heard of Re-Mix Magazine, right?”

  “Of course! Luna Daniels is an inspiration.”

  “Well, I want to do a profile on you for Re-Mix.”

  “What?” I let out a shocked laugh. “Really?”

  “Yes. I think because of your reputation as a trendsetter and the fact that you’re launching your clothing line soon, you’re Re-Mix material. During the Friday staff meeting, I pitched the idea to Luna since your fashion show is Saturday, and she agreed.”

  “Wow! Thank you!”

  “Can I be completely honest with you?”

  My brows furrowed. “Yes, of course.”

  “After this weekend, I was fired up and this morning I was able to convince Luna to give me more space to focus on turning your profile into a feature.”

  A feature is a multiple page spread. Oh. My. God.

  “Are you serious?” I whispered, scared it was a practical joke.

  “Yes. I’m serious, but here’s the thing… this will be a feature for you and Simply Serena. But it’ll also be a ‘fuck you’ to Date Night with The Lost Boys for that vile podcast they released.”

  “You heard it?”

  “Yeah. They are trash, and they need to be stopped. But I want you to know that you can accept the online profile or the feature or both. The profile will go online and will talk solely about Simply Serena—a review of the fashion show and a quick glimpse at your Black-owned, female-owned business. And like I said, the feature will be about you, Simply Serena, and female sexuality. My first thought was to go after The Lost Boys, but then I thought about how I could use this to give you the opportunity to change the narrative. I could call them out while promoting you at the same time. Or I could just call them out. I don’t know if you’re interested in—”

  “Let’s do it.” My jaw clenched with determination.

  “Are you sure? You can think about—”

  “There’s nothing to think about. Fuck The Lost Boys.”

  Akila laughed. “Fuck The Lost Boys.”

  Chapter Ten

  Akila Bishara arrived at my workspace on campus around three o’clock in the afternoon. She looked fashionable yet seriously dressed in a mulberry-colored business suit. With a notebook in one hand and a pink handbag in the other, she followed me around the space for a quick tour.

  “You are extremely talented,” Akila gushed, eyeing the pieces for the fashion show. She looked over at me with her eyes wide. “It’s mind-blowing how good these are. And the quality? Wow.”

  I grinned. “Thank you.”

  She eyed a black dress that was short in the front and a little longer in the back. The flirty dress had a plunging lace neckline that met the chiffon skirt. “Is your stuff going to be available for purchase after the show?”

  Joy seeped through my pores as I let the sentence roll around in my head a few times. “I’m doing an official launch of my business in January, but I’m going to start taking preorders after the show. Do you have something in mind?”

  “This.” She pointed at the black dress. “I want this dress. My parents are renewing their vows at the end of the month on the same day as my boyfriend’s gala. I feel like this is the perfect dress to wear to both.”

  “Your boyfriend has a gala?”

  She laughed. “No, it’s not his gala. It’s a gala for a charity he’s been involved with for years. They’re honoring him and a bunch of other community donors. He’s a teacher and did different drives and initiatives through his school.” Her smile fell. “He also used to be on Date Night and raised money through the podcast.”

  My smile fell at the mention of Date Night. “He used to be one of The Lost Boys?”

  She nodded. “I’ll tell you all about it once we get started. But first…” She pointed at the dress again and then clasped her hands together in prayer. “Is this a possibility?”

  I was still in a state of shock. “Yeah.” I nodded, still trying to wrap my mind around what she was telling me. “With school and everything, it’ll take me a couple of days after I get your measurements.”

  “Ah! Thank you!” She clapped excitedly. “Okay, I know you don’t have a lot of time before your fitting and rehearsal, so we can go ahead and get started.”

  If her boyfriend is a former Lost Boy, how is this going to even work?

  “I have a question,” I started as we sat down at the table.

  She pulled out her voice recorder before looking at me expectantly. “Sure, go ahead.”

  “You said that you wanted the feature to be about me and combating the rumors about me, in addition to highlighting my work.”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “And this is also going to be a ‘fuck you’ to Date Night.”

  She nodded. “Yes, definitely.”

  “How?” My face scrunched in confusion as I looked at her. “You’re dating a Lost Boy…? I don’t understand.”

  She took off her jacket and exposed a pink camisole that matched her shoes. “No, he’s not a Lost Boy anymore. It’s a long story, but I met Carlos through Luca’s class…”

  My stomach fluttered at the mention of his name, but I ignored it as I listened intently.

  Fifteen minutes later, I wiped tears from the corner of my eyes as I watched her do the same.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you,” I whispered, reaching out for her hand.

  “And I’m sorry that happened to you,” she murmured back, squeezing my hand in solidarity.

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe these assholes. They are given this platform and are unbelievably reckless with it.”

  “I have an article coming out in the print version of Re-Mix that reads them for the filth that they are.” She grinned. “It’ll be out this month.”

  “Good. Because they need to be stopped.”

  “And this is exactly why we’re going to stop them.” She opened her notebook and clicked her pen. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  She hit the record button. “Let’s start with the rumors and then end with Simply Serena. That way, we can end on a high note.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I agreed, crossing my legs and sitting back in my chair.

  Akila leaned forward a bit. “For the record, are you a ho?”

  “No.”

  “And that’s that.” She sat back and nodded. “Is everything they said a lie?”

  “Just about.” I went back and forth in my head about telling her about Marcus before deciding to cop to it. “I slept with one of the men they are alleging I slept with—one. The others are just people I know.”

  “Why do you think the rumors started in the first place?”

  “Because Luca Romano is in town for business. He’s a well-known guy, and someone saw us having dinner together and made some assumptions. The five people they handpicked for this fabrication all happen to be successful in their fields. They wanted to create a certain narrative, and they framed it the way they wanted to with lies.”

  She nodded. “That’s good.” She wrote down everything I said verbatim. “Have you denied the rumors?”

  “People who actually know me know it’s bullshit. But people who know of me…” I shrugged, “apparently are prone to believe what they hear. I just keep getting told that the lies are being spread all over, but only one person ever asked if it was true. And it was one of the men they included in the rumor!”

  “What bothers you most about the ho allegations?

  “The fact that it was based on lies, but also that the word ho was being tossed around in the first place. This wouldn’t have happened if I was a man
. They named five men and called me a ho because they lied and said I slept with them. Five men? By whose standards does that make me a ho? And even if they had listed ten, twenty, thirty men, why would that make me a ho? Why is female sexuality scrutinized harshly by both men and women, but male sexuality is just accepted? The implications of a woman being a ho keeps her from exploring her sexuality and moving on to new experiences when she isn’t being satisfied by her partner. It shames a woman into ‘keeping her body count low’ in order to be considered a lady. But that same logic isn’t applied to men. Men will have multiple partners and explore their sexuality, moving on to someone else when they aren’t satisfied and aren’t typically called hoes. And even when they are, the significance of that title isn’t as severe, and they aren’t judged harshly.”

  Akila nodded. “I completely agree.” She paused for a second. “Who do you think would start a rumor like that?”

  “No comment.” I gave her a look.

  “Off the record, do you have an idea?”

  “Off the record, yes.”

  “Off the record, who?”

  “Off the record, I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was this asshole named Jennifer.”

  Akila’s eyes narrowed and her mouth hardened. “Jennifer. Blonde bob, completely bitchy attitude, nasally voice, rude as hell?”

  “That’s the one.” I connected the dots and nodded. “It makes sense that you’d know her. Luca did say she was in his seminar and came on to him.”

  “He was being modest. She only took the seminar because she wanted to get with him, and she used every opportunity she could to parade herself in front of him. She didn’t just come on to him; she threw herself at him.”

  “Well, that explains why when she saw us, she went off. She called me a ho before she stormed away and then by Monday, everyone thought we were dating, and a fake sexual history had been created.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her. I’m not going to write any of that in the article, but would you mind if I looked into it?”

  I shrugged. “Go ahead. If she admits to doing it, then I don’t mind name dropping in the article. Because that’s part of what’s wrong here. I truly think this whole thing started because of Jennifer’s petty jealousy. She is a grown ass woman, and she called me a ho because I was out to dinner with a man who isn’t her boyfriend or husband. She wanted him, and she thought I had him, so she called me a ho. She doesn’t know anything about me but because I’m her ‘rival’ and she wants me out of the way, she spread lies about me.”