Somebody Else Will

Chapter 1

He slid his arms around me as I brushed my teeth, mentally preparing for a busy day. I had twelve deliveries, and that didn’t include bouquets I had to get ready for tomorrow. I glanced at Will in the mirror and wanted to roll my eyes. We’d been together for nearly two years, but he was hanging on by a thread.

“Good morning, baby,” he said and kissed my cheek.

He thought he put it down last night. That mediocre shit only irritated me and left me craving more. I snatched my rose off the nightstand and got myself off immediately afterward, while he lay there watching me. He was so fucking clueless. Like, how didn’t you understand that you didn’t satisfy me if I had to use a toy to get off after you were done?

If there was some logical medical explanation as to why he couldn’t seem to get me off, I would do my best to understand. He assumed I just didn’t cum during sex. The problem was that he didn’t try to figure out how to make me cum during sex, despite my direction. My pleasure and satisfaction were second thoughts, if a thought at all, and I was sick of it.

I was glad I had my toothbrush in my mouth. I didn’t have to respond to him. It seemed I brushed even longer to avoid greeting him. When he walked out of the bathroom, I rolled my eyes and rinsed my mouth. If all the other aspects of our relationship were top tier, I would be willing to work with him on the sexual aspect of it. The truth was, he’d become an inconsiderate, self-absorbed jackass. Everything that concerned him revolved around how he felt and no one else.

He never thought about how his lack of attention and affection impacted how my day went. I wanted to feel loved, cherished, adored… all that shit people in love were supposed to feel. My grandmother had it right when she said love could be like a flesh-eating cancer, just eating away at everything good until there was nothing left. It felt that way with me, because for some crazy reason, I was still with him, putting up with his mediocrity and toxicity.

It felt like I was on the bullshit that said it was better to have a piece of man than to not have a man at all. I used to be the first person to roll my eyes at the thought of that, but after evaluating myself, I realized I was doing that exact thing. Masking it as being patient and waiting for him to fulfill his potential was toxic at best, but I couldn’t seem to find the audacity to tell him to get the hell out of my house.

I believed I was on the rebound and lonely. The man I had crushed on for years had me in the friend zone. I wasn’t as confident, and felt like he didn’t like big girls, so I never took my shot. However, when he called me to order flowers for a woman he was feeling, my heart dropped. What made it worse was that she was a fabulous BBW just like me. I had been treating him like a friend instead of a man that I wanted and missed my opportunity. My body language when I was around him said I wasn’t interested. That was my fault. Now he was married to her, and they had a beautiful baby girl.

Once a month, I had to travel to Houston to pick up purple magnolias for his wife, and it only depressed me more, knowing that I could have had a man that worshipped the ground I walked on. Ford was everything I wanted, and I let his fine ass slip right from my fingertips. Struggling with the loss, I picked up Will, hoping he would be just as great. Wrong!

He was great in the beginning. They all were. Once he got comfortable, that was it. The excessive affection slowed to barely any at all. The only time he was affectionate was either before sex or right afterward. I was lacking so much, and he couldn’t see it because his own desires were blinding him to every and anything else.

I finished my hygiene routine then went back into the bedroom to get dressed, and he was lying in bed, stroking his dick. I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Will, I don’t have time. I have a lot of work to do today.”

I walked right by him and headed to my closet while he frowned. He could fuck himself. Staring at him while he was naked didn’t even turn me on anymore. Why am I still putting up with this shit?

“Come on, Nishia. You know you want this dick.”

I rolled my eyes for the umpteenth time, then walked back into the bedroom and got in bed with him, sliding down his dick. Why am I this way? My mind was never in the moment, so I didn’t know how I stayed wet. She definitely had a mind of her own to achieve that. He didn’t care about passion or love. He just wanted to be fucked. I bounced on his shit fast and hard to get him off so I could leave.

Within literally three minutes, he’d fired off in my depths. Thank God for birth control. “Damn, girl! I knew you wanted this. You can’t resist it.”

He chuckled as I hurriedly left the bed and went to the shower. I didn’t understand why I did this shit to myself. It was like I needed to be reprogrammed. I realized that he put his needs first because I put his needs first too. How could I make him see the things I needed when I pushed them to the back burner all the time?

Once I was done, I hurriedly went back to the bedroom to get dressed. I wouldn’t have time to stop at Starbucks before going to the storefront now. Happily Ever After Floral Shop was my baby. I put my all into it to make it a successful business. It was the one thing I invested a lot of time in that benefited me. Because of my hard work, the revenue sustained me… and Will, apparently, since the nigga only worked part-time.

He didn’t have to go to work until noon, so he was under the covers, going back to sleep. He didn’t have a care in the world. After losing his full-time job, he hadn’t been in a hurry to find another one. When we met, he was working both jobs, showing me that he was a hustler… a go-getter. I spoiled him. I took care of him too well, especially since he wasn’t my husband. I was trying to show him that I was wifey material.

That engagement was still pending. At this rate, I didn’t want the shit. He was living with me because I wanted to help him after he lost his job. The only thing he did that benefited me was keep the house clean. Thankfully, he was a neat freak. He couldn’t stand clutter, chaos, or disorganization. Every now and then, he cooked as well.

After I finished getting ready, I left the house without telling him bye. He was asleep anyway. Checking the time, I saw it was a quarter to eight. The shop opened at eight. I typically liked to be there twenty to thirty minutes before. As I whipped my car around the corner, my phone rang. When I saw Ford’s number, my heart softened a bit.

“Hey, Ford. What’s up?”

“Hey, Denishia. I need to cancel my delivery for the month. I forgot to reschedule it for earlier this month. We’ll be out of town.”

“Okay. No problem. How’s everything?”

“Everything’s good. We’re taking Naima to Disney World before it gets too hot.”

Naima was his daughter. She was only two or three. “Oh, okay! Well, y’all have fun.”

“We will. You good? You sound somewhat down. I can tell you’re trying to force excitement.”

I took a deep breath, wanting to close my eyes. “I’m okay. Just some personal stuff going on.”

“Well, you know I’m a great listener. I would like to think we’re friends, right?”

“Of course, we are.”

A friend I wish was more. There was no way I would go into telling Ford about my relationship drama, bullshit I was allowing for the sake of not being alone. We knew one another from school but only as acquaintances. We were closer now than we were back then. I kind of hid in the shadows, and he was a star basketball player. He was so laser focused on the game, though, he didn’t notice all the girls that were crushing on him.

“Okay, Denishia. I hate to hear you sounding down, but do your best to have a great day. And… evaluate what’s making you upset. If it’s something you can change, take the leap and change it. If you can’t change it, let the shit go. Stress is so unhealthy, especially for sistas. Y’all already have so many risk factors working against you. Stress only makes those underlying issues metastasize. Take care of yourself.”

“Thanks, Ford. I really appreciate you for that. I promise to take your advice. I have plenty of deliveries to keep me busy this morning, but as soon as I stop to make floral designs, I’m going to go over things.”

“Floral masterpieces, girl. That’s what you make. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Thanks. Okay. Y’all be safe and have fun.”

“Will do.”

I ended the call as I turned in the parking lot of the shop. One of my workers was sitting in her car, waiting for me to arrive. I needed to just give her a key. My problem was that I didn’t trust people easily when it came to my business. I wanted to be in control. That way, when things failed, I had no one to blame but myself. I quickly grabbed my things and hopped out of the car as she did the same.

Once we got to the back door, she said, “I was just about to call you. It’s not like you to be late.”

“I know. Sorry. I got a late start.”

I unlocked the door and went to the refrigerators to begin loading today’s deliveries in the van. I needed to hire someone to do this too. Then I could focus on making beautiful bouquets that people raved about. Jamia handled the front desk, along with another part-time receptionist named Jerzey. Jerzey was a phlebotomist, but she loved being around flowers. She was single and didn’t have children. So, in her spare time, she was here at the shop.

She was a lot like me. She liked to see love through the floral designs. Unfortunately, it was expressions of love that we both craved but couldn’t get. At least she was single. I wasn’t single and was still craving it. That sucked. I just wanted to feel all the things I was supposed to feel. Was that too much to ask for?

After I finished loading the van, I went up front to let Jamia know I was leaving. She was on the phone, though, and her eyes were big. “Yes, sir. Just a moment, and I’ll let you speak to Denishia. She’s the owner and the only one that can approve something of this caliber,” she said while staring at me.

I frowned slightly as she put the call on hold. “Denishia, Ezekiel Wheeler is on the line, wanting you to provide flowers for his mom’s birthday party.”

“Ezekiel Wheeler?”

My eyes were just as wide as hers. Ezekiel Wheeler was an actor who had played in one of my favorite Christmas movies, Unwrapping Your Love: The Gift . In the movie, he was a single father who was also an athletic director for the school district as well as a little league baseball coach. He’d met a single mother, and sparks flew. The story was so beautiful. Ezekiel portrayed the role perfectly. Hallmark had hit it out of the park with that production. However, knowing that this man was on the line, inquiring about my services, had me cemented in place.

Jamia nudged me, and I quickly snapped out of it and picked up the phone. “Happily Ever After Floral Shop, this is Denishia. How may I help you?”

The line was quiet for a moment, and I thought he’d hung up. Before I could check, I heard him clear his throat. “I’m sorry, Miss Denishia. This is Ezekiel Wheeler. The richness of your voice caught me off guard.”

I could feel my face heating up. Was this fine ass man flirting with me? He didn’t even know what I looked like. I chuckled. “What were you expecting?”

He chuckled too. “A little dainty sounding voice.”

“I’m not in Hollywood, Mister Wheeler. I’m as real as they come.”

“Mm. So I hear. I’m needing someone to provide flowers and work with the event planner on placement for a formal dinner party for my mother. It’s somewhat short notice, but I wanted to know if you would be available.”

“What are the dates and location?”

He chuckled nervously. “It’s in Houston, and it’s in less than two weeks. Not this weekend, but the next.”

I quickly opened the schedule book at the desk and marked out that Friday evening and Saturday. “I’m available for that. What type of flowers were you wanting, and how many arrangements?”

“Honestly, Denishia, I don’t know. Are you free to meet me at the venue on Wednesday?”

“I have to make a trip to Houston’s North side on Wednesday, so a meetup can be arranged. What time?”

“What time is good for you? They will open the venue whenever I want them to.”

“Preferential treatment must be nice,” I said before I could filter myself.

I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip. “Sorry, Mister Wheeler.”

He chuckled. “Call me Ezekiel. And it’s definitely nice. I don’t hesitate to use my status since they don’t.”

I smiled slightly. I knew he was referencing white people. My voice wasn’t as professional as it should have been for a professional. I wasn’t up for the faking. When I knew I was speaking to someone black, the professional tone seemed to drop. I wasn’t hood or ratchet sounding. I still used correct English, for the most part, but one could definitely tell I was a black woman on the phone simply from the inflections in my voice.

“Hmph. I know that’s right,” I said. “Where is the venue?”

“It’s downtown.”

“Okay. I can meet you around ten. Is that too early?”

“No, ma’am, it’s perfect. Is there a number I can text the address to?”

I smiled slightly. I didn’t have a business mobile. My personal line was dry as hell. The only personal calls I got consistently were from Will, my mama, and my grandmother. “Yes.”

I proceeded to give him the number. Once he’d sent the text, he said, “I can’t wait to see what magic you create. My mama will be so excited. Her sister recommended you since she lives in Beaumont. Her name is Jocelyn Bridges, if that will give her brownie points.”

I smiled big. “It absolutely will. Thank you so much for choosing me for such an extravagant occasion. See you Wednesday at ten.”

“Yes, ma’am. Is it okay for me to call that same number if anything comes up?”

“Absolutely. It’s actually my personal line, so I always have it on.”

“Good to know. Talk to you soon.”

He ended the call, and I literally wanted to pass out from holding in all my excitement. Once I made sure that I’d ended the call as well, I screamed. I grabbed Jamia’s hands, and we jumped around like little girls. When I finally exerted enough energy, I huffed. “I guess I better get to work.”

Jamia giggled, then said, “I’m so happy for you. No one works harder than you. You deserve this, boo. See you when you get back.”

I smiled at her then hugged her. Receiving compliments was hard for me. I often felt awkward, not knowing what to say in return. “Thanks.”

I quickly turned on my heels and made my way to the van. That one phone call had brightened more than just my day, but probably the entire week. I couldn’t wait until Wednesday.