Chapter Nine #3
Just as I was about to share that piece of information with Kendrick, someone bumped into me and my bottle went flying through the air. It hit the floor with a crash that could not be heard above the thumping music, but some people had seen it coming and jumped out of its path, avoiding the impact.
“Oh, shit,” I said and waited for the woman in the sequined red dress whom the beer had splattered on to come storming at me.
She didn’t—she looked at the large wet stain spreading on the side of her thigh and then at me.
She seemed about to say something, but then the DJ changed the song and all the people around her began jumping up and down and waving colorful handkerchiefs in the air.
She got caught up in the frenzy and the crowd closed in around her.
I was still recovering when Kendrick grabbed my wrist and dragged me through the crowd and onto the dance floor. If it wasn’t for his strong grip, I would have been caught like a fish in the net of people that hardly opened up to let us through.
The dance floor was packed. I couldn’t see how another body would be able to fit, but Kendrick made space and began jumping up and down with the rest of the crowd.
I stood before him, watching this man and his massive bulk jump up and down and sing along to the words of a song that I couldn’t understand.
Sweat poured down his face and soaked through his cream silk shirt.
“C’mon, jump!” he screamed over the music. “Jump!”
The floor was alive beneath me. I got up on my toes and gave a little hop, which made Kendrick laugh and grab me around my waist. “Jump, girl, jump!” he said and began lifting me from the floor.
I was embarrassed and looked around to see if anyone was watching.
No one was paying us any mind; they were all caught up in the music.
I began jumping, small jumps that barely made my behind jiggle, until finally I decided to hell with everything and began jumping so hard and so high that I jumped right out of my stilettos.
Four hours later we stumbled out onto the sidewalk, breathless and soaking wet.
“Did you have a good time?” Kendrick asked as we sat shivering in his Mercedes, waiting for the heat to fill the cold space.
“Wonderful,” I said while trying to stifle a yawn. My hair was a damp mop on my head and I didn’t even want to think about what my face looked like.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired,” Kendrick teased. I turned a sleepy eye in his direction. Where did this man get his energy from?
“I was going to take you to this other club I know about…they are just beginning to really get started,” he said as he revved the engine.
“You’re not serious, are you?” I asked, fearful that he might be.
“Naw,” he said with a laugh. “How about breakfast?”
I heard my bed calling me, but I ignored it.
“Okay,” I said as we did fifty down the street.
—
We ended up at this all-night spot uptown. The place was run-down, but the chicken and waffles we feasted on were out of this world.
The sun was coming up as Kendrick told me a little more about himself.
“My father let me do whatever it was I showed an interest in. Soccer, tennis, football. Piano, guitar, whatever,” he said and drained his coffee cup.
“You were a lucky kid. My parents couldn’t afford to pay for anything like that. I wasn’t even a Girl Scout,” I said, surprised at the bitterness in my voice.
When we finally made it to my apartment building, the early-morning dog walkers and joggers were already on the street.
“Ms.Atkins, it was an enchanting evening,” Kendrick said before lifting my hand and kissing it. He didn’t kiss the back of my hand; he kissed my palm. It was a long, seductive kiss that melted my insides.
“Goodbye, Ms.Atkins. Sleep well.”
I could hardly speak. “Goodbye,” I whispered in a weak, trembling voice. I fought the urge to invite him up and into my bed. “Goodbye,” I said again, a bit louder this time.
He waited until I stepped into the building before pulling away, and at the sound of his tires screeching against the blacktop, I panicked and realized that he hadn’t said he would call me. In fact, he hadn’t even asked for my number!
The sleep my body was craving wouldn’t allow me to dwell on it for too long. I turned the ringer off on the phone and fell fully dressed into my bed, where I remained until the loud buzzing of the doorbell woke me up at three o’clock.
“Ms.Atkins, you have a package here,” the doorman’s gruff voice announced over the intercom.
“Would you send it up, please?” I said as my brain pounded inside my skull. A few seconds later I opened the door and was presented with a large gold-wrapped gift box. “Just a minute,” I said to the doorman as I went to get my purse. I thanked him after tipping him five dollars for his trouble.
It’s not my birthday, I thought as I placed the box on top of the living room table.
There was no card attached. I quickly undid the wrapping, being careful not to rip it up.
When I lifted the top the first thing I saw was a white silk rose, and beneath it were two cashmere sweaters, one black and one red. I started grinning like an idiot.
I removed the sweaters, and at the bottom of the box was a blue and white Totes umbrella and a white card:
I had a wonderful evening…I hope we can do it again—soon.
Thank God for rainy days.
Kendrick
I smiled and did a jig in the middle of my living room. I had fallen in love in less than twenty-four hours.
That was two years ago, and while he still managed to excite me and I believed more than ever that I loved him, I had the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right, that maybe Kendrick Greene wasn’t my soul mate, my black knight in shining armor.
I couldn’t shake the feeling, so I just exerted extra effort toward ignoring it.