‘YOU WANNA TELL ME what’s wrong?’ I asked through my Bluetooth earpiece, as I brushed my hair back into a gel slicked ponytail.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Conner, you’ve been acting weird for days now. Don’t act like this is all in my head. What’s going on with you?’
We’d been home from Chicago for a few days, and since then, Conner seemed distant. Somber, even. And the last few times we had sex, it was different. There was an all-consuming passion that burned between us while he kissed and caressed my body – that wasn’t what was different. It was the way he looked at me and the way he touched me, like he was committing it to memory. Afterward, he held me tightly as if he were afraid to let me go. When we slept, his legs and arms were entwined around me, almost desperately so. My gut told me something was very wrong. My heart prayed that I was overreacting.
‘I’m fine,’ he assured me. ‘I want to see you tonight…no matter what. My place or yours? Please.’ His voice was deep and coarse.
‘Conner, what’s going on?’ I sat on the edge of my bed, my brain racking through worst-case scenarios.
‘Just promise me…no matter what.’
‘Okay. I promise. I’ll come to your place.’
‘Okay,’ he responded, relief evident in his tone. ‘You’d better get going. It’s almost 9.’
‘I’ll see you soon.’
After disconnecting from the call, I realized that I’d never told him what time I was meeting. She and I had just decided on a time a couple of hours ago. I dressed quickly, stepping into a long flowy skirt and tube top.
I arrived at the eatery fifteen minutes early and managed to snag an outdoor table near the outdoor bar. I sipped on a frozen margarita and browsed through my re-activated social media accounts while waiting for Amy to arrive.
I noticed Amy a short while later walking towards the outdoor bar entrance. She was on her phone and appeared to be engaged in a heated and tearful conversation. She looked in my direction and halted her steps. After relaying a few more heated exchanges into her phone, she disconnected the call. She swiped at falling tears before heading over to me.
‘Hey, girl,’ she forlornly said as I stood and embraced her. After sitting down, she signaled the waiter over with the wave of her hand.
‘Hey, hun. What’s going on? Was that Quentin?’ I reached out and squeezed her hand. Amy and Quentin had been arguing a lot lately. Recently, he shocked everyone by bowing out of the campaign run. Shortly after that, he moved out of their new home and filed for divorce.
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ The waiter came over and stood before us. ‘I’ll have a shot of tequila. Make it a double.’ Amy turned back to me. ‘Men suck.’ I smiled graciously at our waiter. He gave a curt nod and turned away from our table.
She laughed sardonically. ‘Oh, excuse me, Novalee. Not all men. Not your precious Conner, right?’ Her humorless laugh was anything but funny. ‘We can’t all be so lucky.’
‘And here we go, ladies and gentlemen. A front-row seat to the bitchy sideshow.’ Amy had become more bitter with each passing day. Her separation from Quentin and the rumors that surrounded it was the talk of the town. I sympathized with her, letting her cry on my shoulder whenever I could. But as of late, I’d been traveling with Conner and wasn’t as available as she would have preferred. She never let me forget that I was breaking cardinal bestie rule number one: putting my boyfriend and our relationship before my friendship with her. Being her new punching bag was becoming quite exhausting.
Through narrowed eyes, she said, ‘Front row seat, huh? But a front-row seat to my sideshow would require you to surgically remove yourself from Conner’s side.’ She folded her arms across her chest, defiantly.
‘Seriously? We’re really doing this now?’ My anger was palpable as my face contorted in a scowl.
‘Yes, we’re doing this now, Novalee. God knows when you’ll be able to pencil me in on your calendar again.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘You have no idea what’s not fair! You know what? Forget it. Chase Conner around while you can before he moves on to his next conquest.’
My stomach dropped. What were we doing? What was happening to us? ‘I know you’re going through a lot with Quentin. And I’m really sorry about that. But it’s not fair to transfer that negative energy to Conner. What has he ever done to you? What have I ever done to you for you to be such a bitch towards me?’
‘He’s changing you.’ I felt her pity. ‘You’ve always been needy when it comes to the guys you’re with. But Jesus, Novalee. Wake up. Grow a fucking backbone. You’re following him around like some lovesick puppy, hoping that he’ll love you back.’ She’d hit a sore spot. My vision blurred with unshed tears, and I could feel my nostrils flare.
The waiter came back with Amy’s double shot. She downed it in one chug and winced before sucking on a slice of lime. Her ivory skin was now flush. Her heated glare softened as she looked at me. We were both on the verge of tears. ‘I don’t want to see you get hurt, Novalee. I don’t want you to go through what I’m going through. I married a man who is incapable of loving me. He’s incapable of loving anyone but himself. Quentin and Conner are cut from the same cloth.’ Amy had just voiced my biggest fear.
My phone vibrated between us. We both looked down at it. Conner’s name was displayed on the screen. I ignored the call. Amy reached for my hand and clasped it.
I gave her hand a squeeze. I had nothing to say about her observation of Conner and Quentin and their similarities. I was too fearful of voicing my doubt. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you, Amy.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m such a raging bitch right now. You don’t own me an apology. I owe you one. I’m so sorry…for everything.’ She signaled the waiter for a refill. ‘I think Quentin’s having an affair,’ she said after a moment. ‘Probably banging some black trashy video vixen. He likes to slum it, you know.’ She looked up at me through red-rimmed eyes. ‘No offense. I didn’t mean anything racist. But he and his little bro have always had a weakness for black chicks. The low-class types. Runs in the family, I guess.’
‘Oh, Amy. Is it time for us to have another lesson in racial sensitivity? Another place, another time.’ I sighed, exasperated with this entire night. ‘I already knew Victor liked black girls. But Quentin, really?’ I sipped on my margarita. ‘Got any proof that Quentin’s cheating?’
She shook her head. I relaxed the tension in my shoulders. ‘Enjoy it while you can, Novalee. Men like Quentin and Conner aren’t meant for happily ever afters. They’re meant to be beautiful mistakes that scar us a little.’
This was so not helping my insecurities. ‘Amy, please. Why do you always do that? I really don’t need this right now,’ I shouted through gritted teeth. ‘Why is it so hard for you to believe that what Conner and I have is real?’
‘Oh. My. God. Are you serious? He’s not going to settle down with you, Novalee. He’s eventually going to find a socialite who’s hand-picked by mommy. He’ll settle down, get married out of duty, and make a bunch babies to further the Brathwaite empire.
‘Have fun. Get laid. But please don’t fall in love with a man like Conner. He is going to use you and spit you out.’ Amy glared at me, nostrils flaring, her pale cheeks beet red with anger. ‘You deserve so much more, Novalee.’ She broke eye contact with me and looked out at the spraying orchestrated fountains across the street. ‘You deserve someone who really loves you.’ The waiter brought Amy another double shot, which she quickly consumed.
The need to defend what Conner and I had was strong. ‘Why don’t you worry about your failed marriage, rather than worry about the state of my relationship. Conner and me? We’re good.’
‘Wow, really?’ She gathered her bag, abruptly stood, and threw a few bills on the table.
‘This is getting out of control, Amy. It’s exhausting.’ I pinched the bridge of my nose.
‘You’re right. This is. I can’t sit back and watch you be with him.’
‘What am I supposed to say to that?’
‘Call me when you’re ready to be around those who really love and care about you.’ She shook her head in disgust. ‘I ran into your father last week. Apparently, you’ve been avoiding your parents too.’ She adjusted the shoulder strap of her purse and flipped her long hair. Turning on her heels, she stormed out of the restaurant.
I tossed a few bills on the table and went after her. ‘Amy, you can’t drive. You’ve had too much to drink. Let me hail you a cab. You can get your car tomorrow.’
‘Fine,’ she bit out. We walked out of the restaurant together and sat down on a nearby bench. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. Amy did the same. After a few minutes, she said, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you. All those things I said about you and Conner. I’m just so unhappy. Nothing is working out for me the way I planned.’
I sighed deeply as I looked over at her. I didn’t have it in me to console her. Not now. Not tonight, at least. ‘I appreciate that,’ I solemnly said.
‘You really love him, huh?’
I nodded, not even wanting to vocalize the words. ‘I’m not sure he feels the same, though,’ I confessed. I sat back and looked out into the street.
‘He does,’ she soberly said.
I shrugged. ‘Conner called me tonight. Something’s up…’
‘What?’ She looked over at me with furrowed brows.
‘Nothing. Never mind,’ I said with a wan smile. My problems were minuscule compared to hers. Amy didn’t need to hear about my doubts and fears. Besides, she might use them as ammunition with an I told you so campaign.
We both stared ahead at the passing cars. ‘I’ve been a terrible friend to you,’ she said, her words choked with tears.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t always been there for you. We’ll get past this.’
‘Yeah.’ She seemed unconvinced.
Amy’s car arrived first. ‘Take care of yourself, Amy-bear,’ I said, using the nickname I used to call her when we were kids. She nodded, a slight smile forming across her face.
My car came soon after. ‘Can you make a stop at the corner market?’ I asked my driver. I needed to pick up some ginger ale. The margarita from earlier was messing with my stomach. It was most likely due to drinking on an empty stomach. When was I going to learn my lesson? Nausea rolled around in the pit of my stomach.
‘Sure, no problem,’ my driver said as he turned into the parking lot of a mini market.
As I made it out of the store with my ginger ale in tow, bile rose from my throat. I vomited in a store-front garbage can before getting back in the car. I gave my driver Conner’s address before tilting my head back against the headrest and closing my eyes.
As we neared Conner’s neighborhood, I sent Conner a text.
Novalee, 10:32pm
Hey babe. Finished having a drink with Amy. Almost at your place. I feel like death rolled over twice.
A few seconds later, he called. ‘Hey,’ I answered.
‘Hey…everything alright?’
‘Besides the fact that I just vomited in a public garbage can due to drinking on an empty stomach? I’m peachy. Not to mention, I had an argument with Amy?’
‘Sorry, angel.’
‘No worries. Just an upset stomach. And Amy and I will be okay.’
‘What was the argument about?’
‘Oh, you know, I suck as a friend. I haven’t been there for her like I should.’ I decided against mentioning Amy’s ‘Hate Conner Movement.’
Silence.
‘Conner, you there?
‘Yeah, angel. I’m here.’
The driver pulled up to the neighborhood security gate, and I used my remote to enter through.
‘I’m not feeling too good.’ I felt dizzy and out of sorts.
‘Where are you?’
‘About three minutes out, actually.’
‘Okay. I’ll meet you outside.’
Upon entering Conner’s estate grounds, I popped a breath mint in my mouth and took a swig of my ginger ale. Conner was waiting in the driveway as we pulled up. After paying the cabbie, Conner retrieved me from the backseat by gathering me up in his arms. I didn’t protest to being carried.
‘Conner, are we okay?’ I asked as he carried me up the stairs to his bedroom.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. ‘Of course.’
‘Okay.’ I didn’t buy it. Not one bit.
‘Let’s get you to bed, angel.’
‘Sounds good,’ I said on the yawn.
∞∞∞
I LOVED COOKING IN Conner’s large gourmet kitchen. Top of the line appliances blended in with the clean lines of stark white cabinetry. The white quartz countertops were large enough to prep for an entire army. Conner’s chef, Javier, had gotten every single item that I needed to make my Grandma Rose’s Famous Seafood Gumbo.
I knew that it was inevitable. I had to get down to the bottom of Conner’s recent cryptic and strange behavior. As I sorted through the groceries, Conner busied himself by gathering pots and supplies from the high cabinets. He hadn’t said anything about our conversation yesterday, and my fear and cowardness caused me to remain silent. A knot formed in my stomach and self-disappointment lay in the center of my chest.
‘Here. Slice these links while I dice the onions.’ I pushed a cutting board over towards him.
‘Oh, you want me to help?’ He looked surprised. I stared blankly at him. He replied, almost to himself, ‘Okay, I can do this.’ I couldn’t help but smile at his self-pep talk.
‘Slice it like this,’ I instructed, as I sliced a few pieces for demonstration. We worked side by side while I softly sang R&B oldies from my playlist, which resounded throughout the kitchen. Conner learned months ago that I cooked all my meals to Rhythm and Blues music of the 60s. It reminded me of cooking dinner with my father’s mother, Grandma Rose. Luckily, I inherited Grandma Rose’s vocal ability, so Conner’s ears didn’t bleed as I sang along to Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s If This World Were Mine.
After slicing the onions, scallions, and garlic, Conner was still only on his second sausage link. ‘You okay over there?’ I called over my shoulder, as I dipped the battered chicken into hot grease.
‘I think I got it,’ he chuckled.
I’d asked Conner to give Javier and his housekeeper, Mildred, the day off. We could surely manage the kitchen on our own. I put Conner on dishwashing duty, while I finished up the gumbo. At times, the overpowering aroma of the gumbo made me a bit queasy, so I made sure that the windows were open and that the ceiling fans were spinning. While the gumbo simmered, we cuddled on the sofa, sipping wine and kissing, while my R&B 60’s soundtrack continued to play in the background.
Later that evening, with our stomachs full, we lounged out on Conner’s temperature-controlled deck. Conner proved to still have a healthy appetite as he feasted on my honeypot, licking every drop, as I reclined back with my hands threaded through his hair. After my third orgasm, I returned the favor, licking and sucking his rock-hard cock until he exploded in my mouth and down my throat. Afterward, Conner rested his head in my lap, as I lazily ran my fingers through his silky mane. We stayed like this for a while, basking in the sun and enjoying each other’s company.
‘Sorry I missed your call last night while I was out with Amy. You wanna talk about whatever was on your mind yesterday?’ I reluctantly broached.
He raised his head up from my lap, and he laid down beside me. He laced our fingers together and focused his eyes down on our joined hands. ‘It’s about Amy.’
I turned to him. ‘Is everything okay? Did Quentin do something? She was really emotional last night.’
He hesitated for a moment as if he were warring with what he was going to say next. At such an inopportune time, my queasiness returned. ‘Hold that thought. I think I’m going to be sick.’ Bile rose up my throat, and I hurriedly bolted from the lounger. I ran towards the balcony doors, but vomit spewed from my mouth and into a nearby potted plant. In an instant, Conner was beside me, squatting down and holding my hair back as I now dry heaved. I wiped my mouth with the hem of my dress. ‘I’m so sorry. I killed your plant.’
‘It’s okay,’ he soothed. He helped me stand to my feet before swooping me up in his arms. ‘Let’s get you inside,’ he consoled, as he carried me through the balcony doors which opened to his master suite.
‘I need to brush my teeth. You can put me down.’ He ignored my request. I felt so light in his arms, as he effortlessly carried me to the master bath. Once planted on my two feet, I grabbed my toothbrush and proceeded to brush the vomit stench out of my mouth.
Conner went over the jetted tub and drew a bath for me. He poured a few drops of my favorite bubble bath and oils into the water and turned on the low jets. He then proceeded to undress me. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail before climbing into the jacuzzi style bathtub.
Conner sat down on the edge of the tub and began massaging my shoulders as I tipped my head forward, enjoying the pressure from his skilled hands. He washed my back with a sponge, warm water running down my shoulders and breasts. After my bath, he wrapped me in a cool lush towel and led me over to the massive bed in the center of his room.
I slipped between the cool sheets, already dozing. ‘I’ll go get you some soda crackers and ginger ale.’
I nodded. The last thing I remembered was Conner pulling the blanket up to my neck and kissing me on my forehead.
∞∞∞
I STIRRED AWAKE TO find Conner sitting in a nearby chair by the bedroom windows. He was staring aimlessly out of the window at his million-dollar view of acres of green forest. ‘Hey, babe,’ I said, through a yawn and stretch. I sat up against the headboard.
Conner rose from his chair and sat beside me on the edge of the bed. ‘You don’t suppose you’re pregnant?’
‘What? No. I’m on birth control, remember?’ I pointed to the implant in my arm.
‘When was your last period?’ he asked calmly.
‘My periods have always been irregular.’ He just stared at me. ‘It’s impossible Conner. I mean, not impossible. But the implant is 99% effective. I’ve had it for three years. Don’t worry.’ If only I could take my own advice.
‘I’m not worried,’ he said matter of factly as he brushed his knuckles along my cheek.
‘I would never try to trap you by getting pregnant.’ I’m not like my mother.
He reached out and gently palmed the sides of my face in his hands. His green eyes bore into mine. ‘You’re probably not pregnant. But if you are…it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’ He kissed the tip of my nose, before tucking a few loose curly strands of hair behind my ears. ‘I love you. I’m in love you. You need to know that. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I was just to chicken shit to admit it to myself…to you.’ He leaned his forehead into mine.
I closed my eyes. It felt as if a million tons had been lifted off my shoulders. ‘I’m in love with you, too.’
‘I still don’t know why you love me, but I’ll take it. Because I can’t live without you,’ Conner said, his voice a husky whisper.
Our lips met. We kissed hard and clumsily, our teeth thrashing against each other’s. We nibbled and bit each other’s bottom lips, and our tongues wrestled as he climbed on top of me. I needed him inside of me like I needed my next breath. I quickly unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down over his muscular ass. When he thrust inside of me, I choked on a gasp, the intense feeling of our connection momentarily overwhelming me. We made passionate love into the night and orgasmed at the same time. That night, when we fell asleep, he spooned me from behind with his palm splayed across my abdomen.
