Chapter 8
Twenty minutes later, Vanna reminded herself that it was just coffee. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of the gray leggings and pink off-the-shoulder T-shirt she was wearing. She’d simply slipped her feet into a pair of Crocs, grabbed her phone, keys, and purse, and walked out the door. All while he waited in the living room with three women and a surly dog staring at him.
“I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” he said when they were settled in a booth toward the back of one of the few diners open at this hour.
“I know,” she replied. “And right about now, I feel like those nights after we’d hit the club and we were all starving, so we found a spot to eat.” The memory made her smile.
He chuckled too. “You’re right. It was usually IHOP, though, and you always ordered breakfast food.”
“Well, it was morning.” She reached for the thick menu on the table in front of her. “It was in the wee early-morning hours, but still. Plus, I can eat breakfast food at any time of day or night.”
“Yeah, I remember that about you.”
Her head snapped up, and she saw that he hadn’t picked up his menu but was watching her. She sighed and thought, Fuck it. Setting the menu down on the table again, she eased back against the seat. “What is this, Aden? And don’t tell me you just wanted to check on me again, because I think we both know that’s not totally true.”
He mimicked her moves and sat back against his seat. “You wanna do this right now? Tonight?”
“If by ‘this,’ you mean be honest with each other? Yeah,” she said with a nod. “I want to do this right now. I’m too old for games, and tomorrow’s not promised, so say what you have to say.”
She sounded like a combination of the cards from her affirmation and motivation box. She should’ve pulled one out tonight when she’d gone up to her room to grab her shoes. But now she’d have to wing it.
“Okay, I wanted to see you again,” he said. “I just wanted to see you.”
“Why?” She toyed with the hem of her shirt.
There was a moment of silence between them. Their gazes held, but neither of them spoke. Then his shoulders rose and fell as he sucked in a breath and released it.
“I met you first,” he said. “You remember that?”
Oh, wow. She did remember, so she nodded.
“We were at that rally in the park, and you dropped the flyers,” he said.
“And you picked them up like we were a meet-cute scene in some romance movie.” Why in the world did she say that? They didn’t have a meet-cute, did they?
His grin was slow to spread this time, and he dragged his tongue over his lower lip. Something no man who looks like him should do at this time of night when he’s sitting across from a woman as sexually deprived as she’d been these past few months.
“Yeah, it did feel like that, didn’t it?”
No. No, it did not, her mind screamed, but she nodded.
“You smiled when you said thank you, and I thought my heart was gonna stop,” he told her, and shook his head. “I was like, what the hell is goin’ on? Having quick physical reactions like that to a shorty wasn’t my thing.”
“Oh, come on, now, you are not gonna sit here and try to tell me you never had a purely physical reaction to a woman before. Especially not when you were in college.”
“Well, I mean, if you’re talkin’ about did I see a fine girl and I got aroused, hell yeah, that used to happen. But this was different.”
The way his tone shifted when he’d said that last sentence had her pulse quickening. Stop it! Stop it, Savannah! Screaming at herself was the best reminder of who and what she was at this very moment. A grown-ass woman who’d just buried a man she’d dedicated way too much of her time and energy to. A man who had, once upon a time, happened to be this guy’s close friend.
“Y’all like to toss that word different out there,” she replied. How many times had one of those early conversations with a new guy included “You’re different from the women I’m used to meeting,” or “I like you because I can tell you’re different,” only for them to end up treating her the same way they’d treated all the other women before? Too damn many.
“That’s what Caleb said about you too,” he told her. “When he came back over to our table that night at the step competition. We asked where he’d been for so long because he’d said he was just going to the concession stand. And he said he’d met this girl, and that just the way you looked at him when you talked was different.”
Why did he remember that? Of course Vanna remembered every detail about the night she’d first met Caleb, but why would Aden remember it?
He dragged a hand over his neatly cut goatee. “I was like, word? And then when we were leaving, he pointed you out and I felt sick to my stomach.”
“Me too,” she said. “Those jeans were so damned tight I was afraid I might faint from poor circulation.” She tried to joke because the look on his face was too serious, too potent. But she hadn’t lied—when she’d finally peeled those jeans off that night, the etchings from the seam, zipper, and snap were red marks along her skin.
“Nah,” he said, half his mouth lifting in a sad smile. “Those jeans looked fuckin’ perfect. Everything about you looked perfect that night, just like it did that day I met you a week before the step show.”
She cleared her throat because his potent look had just ratcheted up the heat in this joint. Aden had root beer–brown eyes, but as he’d been talking to her, they’d gone almost black, the timbre of his voice dipped just a tad lower, and something flipped and flopped in her stomach that she knew wasn’t hunger because she’d eaten enough at home.
“Then Caleb and I became a couple, and Jamaica and I became a part of your circle,” she said, because what the hell else was she supposed to say?
That she’d thought he was fine that day they first met too? And that she’d been a little jolted by seeing him again at the step show, but Caleb had already sent her pulse into a frenzy with his attention and goofy demeanor? She’d always been a sucker for a man who could make her laugh.
“Nah,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “You wanted honesty, don’t pull back on me now.”
She sighed. “You’re right.” Now she settled her hands on top of the menu, clasping her fingers, which just didn’t want to remain still. “I thought there was something between us that day in the park. But the interaction was so brief. There was so much going on that day. We didn’t even get each other’s names.” Which, later that night, she’d thought was kind of romantic. Again, like something in a movie. They had this encounter and then walked away without knowing how to get in contact with each other, but they were both longing for the other. Such wild nonsense that she almost cringed at the thought now.
“I know. I kept looking for you on campus that week, hoping I’d bump into you again. I was definitely going to get your name and hopefully your number that time.”
His phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen momentarily, swiped to dismiss the call, then put it back. All the while she watched him move, her gaze transfixed by the deep-mocha hue of his skin, bared by the short-sleeve beige shirt he wore. There was a tattoo on his right bicep—the Greek letters of his frat, she recognized by the bottom half she could see. She wondered if he had more ink on his beautiful skin.
“You had a girlfriend,” she blurted out. “When we all went to the movies together that first time, she was with you.”
“She was a date, not a girlfriend. I was still nursing some feelings of regret for not making a move on the girl with the pretty smile and great taste in jeans,” he said.
Vanna had been thick all her life, and she’d never lacked for attention from guys. She knew how to dress to accentuate all her best features and loved the admiration she received for her efforts. Yet she hadn’t forgotten the way Aden had looked at her that first day, or many times after that.
“You and Yvette eventually became a couple,” she said. “You dated her until y’all graduated. What happened after that?”
“We stopped dating,” he said with a shrug.
“Did you ever get married?”
“No,” was his quick reply. “And I wished you hadn’t either. At least, not to Caleb.”
Oh. That was a turn she hadn’t expected in this conversation she’d never imagined having, and she couldn’t have been more thankful for the server who approached them at that moment. They turned their attention to the menus at that point. He ordered food, and she requested that coffee that he’d offered her because she was going to need something strong to keep her wits together during the rest of this interlude. And not alcoholic strong, because that, coupled with the hum of sexual tension circling them, would surely make a dangerous combination.
“So,” he said after the server left them to put their order in, “tell me what you’ve been doing these last fifteen years.”
She was just about to say living through an emotionally exhausting marriage , when he held up a hand. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing, not about who you were married to or what that relationship was like.”
“The two are intricately entwined,” she said, then huffed. “Even after death, it seems.”
“Hey,” he said, and reached a hand across the table to take hers.
She stared down at this connection, his fingers moving along the back of her hand, turning it around until their fingers linked. It was meant to be a casual touch, she knew, but it felt deeper, more intimate. That thought didn’t scare her as much as it probably should’ve.
“Jovani’s a great lawyer. He’s going to get to the bottom of whatever is going on,” he said.
“Why did you pay him for me? Why are you here now?” She frowned as she looked up at him. For as much as she’d always known she could take care of herself, she wasn’t averse to men doing nice things for her. She just hadn’t experienced that interaction frequently.
“This is the weirdest reunion, Aden,” she said honestly. “First, we meet and there’s this buzz of ... I don’t know, something. Then we meet again, and I’m with Caleb and you’re with Yvette. We spend a couple of years around each other more than we were around our family, and then we don’t see each other again until fifteen years later. When Caleb dies.” She released a heavy sigh and felt the prick of tears. “This has been an eventful first two weeks of my birthday month.”
He squeezed her hand. “Then how ’bout we focus on making the next two weeks better?”
Bowling on Saturday was definitely a better excursion than Vanna’s solo club venture last weekend. Jamaica and Ronni had laughed till they had tears in their eyes as she told them about how she’d skedaddled out of that parking lot when Tyson’s baby mama showed up. And she would be forever grateful that even though she’d been ready to follow him to that hotel and ride him like a racehorse, she had yet to give him her phone number, which meant they’d had no further interaction since that night.
Bowling was something Vanna didn’t do often, but she did enjoy it. For a couple of years, Caleb had been part of a league, so she’d spent some time at bowling alleys, trying to support him. And on weekends when he would practice, she would join him. She didn’t want to feel like tonight was paying any homage to him, but from the moment she woke up this morning, he’d been on her mind.
And not just Caleb, but also their college years, their friends, the life they built together. Aden.
Vanna had always treated her experience with guys as an adventure. It was fun flirting and meeting them, nice when she allowed some of those meetings and flirtations to turn intimate, and, more often than not, disastrous when their end came. Caleb hadn’t been her first run of bad luck with a guy. He had just been her longest. Still, each time had seemed to hammer home the fact that she wasn’t meant to be in a lasting and loving relationship. She wasn’t meant to be loved and cherished.
A heavy sigh followed that observation.
One small positive thought in the morning can change your whole day.
The favored words from one of her cards in the box popped into her head like an alarm reminding her that she could choose to be happy.
Not yet ready to get out of bed, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, returning her thoughts to the man she’d spent two hours talking to at a diner last night. Or rather, earlier this morning, because it had been almost two thirty when he’d dropped her off at her house. Jamaica had texted her not long after she’d left the house to let her know they were leaving, and that, yes, she would follow Granny home to make sure she got there safely. And Vanna had texted their group thread to let Jamaica and Ronni know when she’d arrived home. Jamaica’s reply had come quickly.
Jamaica: We want all the details at first daylight
A slow turn of Vanna’s head showed that the large, bright numbers on the clock on her nightstand read 7:23 a.m. She’d always been a morning person, even though she woke up groggily; she couldn’t sleep late into the morning unless she was sick. The sun was up, she could see the golden rays trying to peek through the closed blinds at her window, but she made no move to pick up her phone and give her friends the details she knew they were both waiting for.
There weren’t any details to give. Unless they wanted to know that she’d revealed to this man—who had once been a very close friend of her husband’s—that a long time ago, she’d had a crush on him. And he, apparently, had had a crush on her too. She still didn’t know how to feel about that. For a brief moment after she’d arrived home last night and climbed into bed, she’d allowed herself to wonder what her life would’ve been like if she and Aden had exchanged names and numbers that day at the park. She would’ve never met Caleb under the circumstances that they had and would have gone on to become romantically involved with Aden, because that man was just as fine back then as he was now. Would they have gotten married? Had children? Would he have been the happily ever after she craved but was afraid to hope for?
She dropped an arm over her eyes and groaned. That line of thought had been pointless last night and was even more so in the morning. Especially since there had been Caleb, and she had loved that man to distraction. Why else would she have given him all those years? More importantly—and the point she kept trying to push out of her mind, but because it was such a big damn deal, it kept resurfacing—what the hell had Caleb gotten her involved in?
In two more days, she would hopefully find out more, but damn if she didn’t want all the answers now. Was she actually in danger of being sentenced to a long term in prison now? She knew what embezzlement was, but since she’d only worked in torts and litigation during her career in the legal field, she didn’t know the specifics on the actual charge, and the sentences that went along with it. So she’d researched, and succeeded in scaring herself even more at the implications.
Being charged with conspiracy to embezzle, she could get some crazy fines, probation, or a combination of all the above. What in the world was her life now? This was supposed to be her birthday-celebration month, she was supposed to be in a perpetual good mood from the first of August until the big birthday-dinner party she had planned for the 31st. Yet here she was, getting another headache from worrying over some mess she hadn’t gotten herself into, nor could she get herself out of on her own.
For as much as she cherished the people closest to her—Granny, Jamaica, and Ronni—and knew they were her ride-or-dies until the very end, Vanna hated depending on anyone. As a child, she’d depended on her mother for love and affection, and Diane had paid her dirt. Vanna vowed she’d never need someone like that again. There’d been a part of her that had even held back from Caleb. While she’d given their marriage 98 percent, the 2 percent she’d kept locked tight was a result of having been disappointed far too many times before. Now, if she ever even considered another serious relationship, unfortunately that person would only get part of her. At this point in her life, she wasn’t willing to risk any more than that.
Her bladder wouldn’t let her lie in that bed with racing thoughts a moment longer. She pushed the sheets off and got up.
Just as she came out of the bathroom, her phone chimed from the nightstand with a notification.
“All right, y’all, it’s barely eight on a Saturday morning. So damn impatient,” she said as her bare feet padded over the wheat-colored carpet on her bedroom floor.
But when she picked up the phone and swiped to view the text, she was surprised to see that it wasn’t from the J so not technically an ex—or estranged, as she most often thought of it. Still, Aden didn’t know that. Or did he? She had no clue what Aden knew about her marriage to Caleb; he’d admitted himself that they hadn’t kept in touch. So him turning up at the funeral was odd. Well, maybe not. He was in the fraternity with Caleb, so him turning up at the funeral wasn’t that strange. Him showing up here last night was. Unless he liked her now too.
Her fingers flew over the screen to open the J you’ve played together before. This is my first time with the fellas, so we had to find our rhythm,” he said.
“Oh, I’d say you are finding a rhythm just fine, sir,” Jamaica said, and Vanna knew she wasn’t talking about bowling.
Clearing her throat, Vanna stood and walked over to the table where their food and drinks were since they couldn’t have them down on the game floor where the benches were. Luckily, the table was close enough for them to keep an eye on, so she picked up her glass and finished the fruit punch she’d poured a while ago. She didn’t like beer, and when the bartender on duty had fixed her the worst mojito she’d ever had when they first arrived, she’d decided to stick with juice.
By the time she made it back to the bench, Jamaica was still talking.
“So, what are your intentions here, Aden?”
Vanna almost choked at the question. She froze and considered turning around and making a trip to the bathroom until this conversation was over.
He frowned at Jamaica, then looked up to meet Vanna’s gaze. “I’m here to help Vanna celebrate her birthday.”
Why did that make her feel all warm and tingly inside? Like, really, they were just words, and yet ... “He’s right. We’re all here to celebrate my birthday. The big four-oh,” she said, and tried to act like those damn butterflies weren’t back and having a whole party in her stomach.
“Not what I meant, and both of you know it,” Jamaica said with a smirk. “You haven’t been around in fifteen years. Where have you been, and why pop up now and suddenly want to celebrate her birthday? She’s had a lifetime of them without you.”
Jamaica could be as bad as Granny with her slick mouth, and usually it didn’t bother Vanna because she didn’t normally bite her tongue either. She also tried not to embarrass the hell out of her friends when she could help it. There was also the fact that the question she’d just asked had been one gnawing at Vanna too. So instead of penalizing her friend, she kept moving until she was seated again.
Aden looked from her to Jamaica, then gave a small nod. “That’s a fair question,” he replied. “As I told Vanna last night, I worked for Tomlin Karn at the office here in DC for five years. Then I moved down to their Miami office for seven years. Just came home three years ago and opened my gym.”
“Really?” asked Ronni, who had been sitting at the scoreboard table but was still listening to their conversation. “Croy works at Tomlin Karn. He’s been there for two years.”
Aden nodded. “It’s a great firm.”
“He also has a nutritional supplement line he’s launching next month,” Vanna added, because he had already given her his career rundown. And she had to admit to being extremely impressed with how much he’d accomplished and how much more he set out to do.
Jamaica narrowed her gaze at him, but she crossed one leg over the other and finally nodded. “Good, you’re not broke, so she won’t have to pay your car payments and buy your clothes.”
“And that’s enough now,” Vanna told her, immensely embarrassed. She prayed Aden wouldn’t take Jamaica’s words to heart. While her friends knew all that she’d put into her marriage emotionally and financially, she didn’t want that information broadcast. Didn’t want anyone knowing just how much of a fool she’d been for love.
Ronni leaned over and slapped Jamaica’s knee down. “You never know when to shut it off. Get up there and take your turn.”
Jamaica had the decency to toss Aden an apologetic look. “You know how I am about my girl.”
He nodded. “I do. But you don’t have to worry—I’ve got her now.”
Ah, what?
Her expression must have screamed those words, because when he turned back to her, he gave her a tentative half smile. “I just meant I can pay your bills and mine if that’s what’s required. But I’m definitely not here to use or hurt you in any way.”
When she didn’t immediately respond, he reached for her hands, holding them both in his. “I didn’t know it was your birthday when I showed up at the funeral. But the one thing I did know was that if this turned out to be another shot with you, I wasn’t missing it again.”