Tempted to Love You

1. Latia Revish

Latia Revish

“ I t’s got to be real. Girl, I could write a book on how you’re making me feel.”

Holding my brush like a microphone, I stare at myself in the mirror while singing my heart out.

My bathrobe is open, revealing my naked body since I’m fresh out of the shower and in the process of styling my hair.

Thankfully, I live alone because I’m sure I’m a sight to see, but this song is an oldie but goodie that I can’t pass up.

Thanks to Rita and Herbert Revish, I’m a sucker for old-school R&B music.

Born to older parents, I can’t help but enjoy timeless classics that most people my age don’t even know.

“I know I’ll never find another who could match the loving you’ve given to me. So... this is for the lover in you. This ring means I’ll always be true.” Gripping the brush, I belt the lyrics like I’m the person who wrote them. “Alexa, what time is it?”

“The time is 4:27 a.m.”

“Shit!”

The time ends my mini-concert, forcing me to focus on taming my hair so I can get dressed and be on my way.

I’m a news journalist for Ribax 8 News, and getting up early has become second nature for me at this point in my career.

Obtaining my journalism degree from Ribax University was a highlight of my life, as I had switched majors several times before settling on this field.

My parents had been ready to cut off my educational funding because I had wasted several years wandering the campus without declaring a major.

I’m not sure what led to my interest in the field, but after diving into it further, I found I loved the idea of storytelling from that capacity.

Moving quickly through the routine of bringing my long hair into a contained bun took me another fifteen minutes. Running out of the bathroom toward my bed where my blouse and dress slacks lie, I roll my ankle, causing a jolt of pain to alert me of my mishap.

“Damn it! Slow down, Latia. Hurting yourself won’t get you out the door any faster.”

Hearing a new song flowing through my Echo Dot, I bob my head, walking briskly to my dresser before applying deodorant and perfume.

With no time to spare, I quickly dress before walking to my walk-in closet in search of some heels to slip on.

My mouth twists while I explore my options of black heels before deciding to go with a pair of leopard print ones instead.

My camel-colored blouse and black slacks could use a little pizzazz, so the heels will give me the subtle embellishment needed.

“Alexa, what time is it?”

“The time is 5:07 a.m.”

“Well, I don’t have time for my avocado toast this morning. Maybe somebody will have brought donuts or something.”

Rushing from my room, I grab my purse, messenger bag, and keys before exiting the front door.

“Good morning, Ms. Revish.” One of the cameramen, Don, greets me when I exit the elevator at the news station.

“Hey, Don. How are you this morning?”

“Great. The sun is gonna be shining, and there’s not a single drop of rain expected,” Don returns, smiling.

Don is typically the first person I see when I get to work each day, and most of the time, there’s a wide smile on his chubby porcelain face.

Thankfully for Don, his job doesn’t require him to do anything but stand behind the camera because Don’s stomach protrudes like Santa Claus.

The suspenders Don wears are worn and tattered from years of assisting the belt he has to wear with his pants.

“Make sure you stop by the break room to grab some breakfast. Boss lady must be in a good mood today because she brought in several quiches, donuts, and bagels. They’re all delicious, so you’d better hurry before the vultures eat everything up,” Don informs me while looking around.

“Duly noted. Thanks for the heads up.” Smiling, I continue toward my cubby to store my purse so I can grab something to eat.

My grumbling stomach is happy about the idea of options for breakfast this morning.

I generally have avocado toast with everything bagel seasoning and a fried egg, but time wasn’t on my side today.

While most people are still rolling over in their beds at 4:30 a.m., I’m typically awake, making breakfast to start my day.

My phone buzzing prevents me from securing my purse inside my drawer.

Unzipping it, I remove my phone, and a grin slides into place, causing me to answer the call.

“Good morning. What are you doing up so early?”

“Girl, I have no idea, but I knew you would be up, and since I can’t sleep, I figured I would chat with you right quick,” Keisha tells me.

Keisha Patton and I have been best friends since our freshman year of college when we became roommates.

Initially, I hadn’t been open to the idea of making friends, but that went out the window the minute Keisha walked through our room.

Keisha’s presence instantly brightened the room and removed the freshman jitters I had been dealing with.

Despite being local, I hadn’t ever been away from home for an extended period, so I was beyond nervous.

Keisha, on the other hand, had been pumped about getting away from her mother and stepfather.

“What’s wrong, boo?”

“I’ve been lying here wondering if being single is something I’m gonna have to endure forever. I give so much of myself that I think I might be broken. When will someone love me for all of me?”

Taking a second to type in my password to start my laptop, I contemplate how I can respond to Keisha’s statements. My bestie works the third shift, so knowing she’s up with these thoughts has my chest tightening and the desire to help increase by the minute.

“Love can be tricky. Sometimes, you don’t have to do anything to receive it. I’m learning that you can do everything right, and still, love plays in your face. Be patient. It’s going to happen for you because you are an amazing woman.”

“I hope so, but I’ll let you get off here. Sorry for bothering you this early with my problems.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Let’s talk a little longer so I can make sure that you’re good. What brought on these thoughts?”

Logging into my email, I stare at the various things waiting for me to address and sigh softly. Playing the background is great and what I prefer in this industry. I love to work behind the scenes while allowing my creative energy to flow freely.

“I ran into Monty and his new girlfriend. They seemed so happy, making me think about what I did wrong.”

“Girl, you and I know Monty cheated from sunup to sundown, so he wasn’t the man for you, unless you like playing second fiddle, and I know better than that.”

“Right. I’m not in the business of sharing, but I hate being lonely and not having someone to curl up with after a long night.”

My forehead wrinkles, and my eyes squint because I’m not sure how seeing her ex has Keisha forgetting all the mess he took her through when they were together.

“I’ve been curling up with a body pillow, and trust me, the heat necessary to sleep well is about the same. I suggest buying one, and if you’re feeling that lonely, get you some YSL, spray that thang down, and take your tail to sleep.”

“Girl, replacing a man with a body pillow is nasty work. What is wrong with you?” Keisha laughs, making me smile at the sound because knowing I have effectively shifted her mood allows me to start my day.

“Anyway. Let me get off this phone so I can grab some breakfast before the scavengers leave nothing but breadcrumbs. Love you, babe.”

“Love you more, baby mama.”

“Calling me baby mama when neither of us has kids is wild. Later, girl.”

Once the call ends, I drop my phone into my purse before locking the drawer and heading to the break room for something to eat.

“The police aren’t doing enough to find Jessica, and the people over there won’t speak up. I’ve been popping up randomly, but no one will talk. I know she’s over there because it’s the last location her phone pinged from,” one of the desk anchors informs me. Melancholy oozes from her pores.

Her little sister seems to have gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd and hasn’t been seen for six months.

I can imagine a petite, blonde-haired young woman with green eyes would be quickly swallowed up in the Ritown Projects.

I understand Melinda worrying about her sister and how she’s fairing in such a neighborhood.

“What are the police saying?”

“Nothing. According to them, Jessica is grown, and since we know where she is, they’re unable to force her to leave. It’s a bunch of mess, and if something happens to her, I’m suing them.”

Humph. Interestingly, RPD isn’t moved to action because Jessica and Melinda don’t belong anywhere near the Ritown Projects. It’s surprising to hear that RPD is turning a blind eye because I assumed that white privilege alone would have them jumping to rescue Jessica.

“Have you tried to get the station to investigate or shine a light on the activities over there? Sometimes, the seedy individuals force an outsider out simply to stop the negative press,” I weakly suggest.

“No. I don’t want to use my resources here, nor do I want anyone in my business. It’s embarrassing to tell people that my sister is mixed up in something I’m unsure of.” Melinda’s eyes shift from me to the floor before shifting her weight from side to side.

Rolling my eyes, I stare intently at Melinda, waiting for her to return her gaze to me so there’s no opportunity for her to misunderstand what I’m about to say.

“You do know that white people aren’t exempt from doing drugs, prostitution, or whatever else goes on within Ritown Projects, right?

I hate to break it to you, but for all you know, your sister is chasing that big dick energy and is good where she is.

She doesn’t have to be on drugs or doing anything other than sitting and spinning on something she’s never had before. ”

The sharp gasp escaping Melinda’s mouth and her bulging eyes has a smirk forming on my lips.

“Seriously, Latia? I’m not insinuating that Jessica?—”

“Let’s not mince words. You’re worried, and the lack of communication from Jessica has you assuming the worst. I understand, and I completely get it. However, you could be sounding an alarm that Jessica disapproves of.”

Do I think it’s possible that Jessica is smoking that shit? Hell yeah. Do I believe Jessica found something more intriguing than the suburb she’s grown up in? Again, hell yeah. However, adding to Melinda’s panic doesn’t seem fitting despite her assumptions about black people corrupting her sister.

“I know. I ultimately blame Jessica’s friend Mandy, who had her sniffing glue and cleaning products during her last two years of high school.

My parents sent her to rehab, and she was clean for a while.

However, Mandy got her hooks in her again, and I’m scared to know what’s happening.

Jessica won’t answer my calls, and she’s stopped sharing her location with me.

I’m scared that if I return to that neighborhood, I could be hurt or endanger Jessica,” Melinda admits with water glistening in her eyes.

“Okay. How about I go over there and see what I can get from the residents? I can’t guarantee they’ll talk to me either, but I’m willing to give you some peace at night. While I’m an only child, I can understand your plight.”

“Oh my God! Will you, Latia?” Hope dances in Melinda’s eyes before she throws her arms around me, hugging me tight.

“I’ll go, but if something happens to me, just know I’m gonna haunt you,” I tease, smirking.

“Deal.”

Laughter escapes my mouth because I didn’t realize I had presented a reason to negotiate.

“I didn’t realize we were working out terms and conditions, but I’m as serious as a heart attack.”

“I hear you, and I appreciate you doing this for me, Latia.”

Lord, I don’t know why I opened my big mouth because I ain’t got no business wandering around Ritown Projects either.