11. Kamaya
CHAPTER 11
Kamaya
“No, do not wear that!”
I turn the dress on a hanger in my hand and move it frontwards and backwards, and Nicole only shakes her head harder. This is the third dress option she has swiftly vetoed since she arrived.
“No, you should wear this instead,” she says, moving up on the stepstool and grabbing a dress.
I scrunch my face at her selection. “That’s very showy,” I say.
Nicole releases a deep sigh. “Kam, you wear too much black. Zach sees you in drab work colors all the time. For your first date, you want to stand out in something he hasn’t seen you in before.”
I should have known inviting Nicole over while I was getting ready for my date was going to be a mistake. The best and worst thing about our friendship is she always pushes me out of my comfort zone. She was right, however. Zach only saw me in the confines of the office building or while I was working. The only exception was Brandon and Ava’s wedding. I certainly never looked glammed. Working behind a screen most of the time, it felt silly going to work with a beat face every day.
“You really think this will be better?” I ask, waving my hand towards the dress she’s holding.
“Absolutely! Red will make you pop,” Nicole says, shoving the dress towards me. “Now, you get ready to change, and I will look for shoes.”
I shake my head at her bossiness while heading towards the bathroom to start straightening my hair. “Who made you my stylist?”
“I did, since I need to save you from yourself! Besides, I need this date to go well so that we can go on double dates.”
“Of course, this is all personal gain for you!” I call out from the bathroom’s open doorway.
“What about these?” Nicole appears, showing a platform heel.
“Yes, that works.”
“See? You need me,” she says. “Seriously, I do hope this goes well tonight and that Zach is everything you’ve been obsessing over since you started working in that building.”
“Yeah, I think we’ll have a good time,” I say, removing the iron from my hair.
“Are you having second thoughts?” Nicole asks, her tone turning serious. “Here I was expecting you to be over the moon.”
“I’m looking forward to the date, it’s just…” I falter, not ready to voice my true feelings about the date tonight with Zach.
“Just what?” Nicole prompts, leaning on the doorway.
“I can’t help but think of Maxwell. I should be excited to finally go out with Zach and get to know him where it’s just the two of us, with no one else we know around. But I’m not thinking of him. I’m thinking of Max.”
What I didn’t say was that Max had infiltrated my every waking thought. Beyond working on the FJ assignment together, I thought about him in the small space of my apartment. I saw him at work. Max was everywhere, and I couldn’t shake how right that kiss felt. I tried desperately pushing it out of my mind, but it played like a song on repeat, and I couldn’t turn it off.
Maxwell advised he’d be working late today and would head over to his place when he was done. So far, no other car had been seen tailing us since that day, so he felt okay to spend a night back in his place. Besides, it’s not like I would be all alone tonight.
Still, the conversation had been awkward today as I left the office and returned home to get ready. Heading to the train station and back to my apartment, I had my weapon with me just in case.
Maxwell’s face as I left was crestfallen, as if he wanted to say more but didn’t. Or couldn’t.
“I say you go on the date and get to know Zach better. As a single woman, you have options. Besides, how many times does Max have to tell you that he’s not interested in relationships? I’ve been through that with men before. If they tell you they are not looking for anything serious, believe them.”
“You’re right,” I say. I didn’t know if a relationship was something I wanted with Zach. If Max showed up here right now and told me not to go on this date with Zach and to be with him instead, would I do it? The only relationship I knew of with Max was an ex-girlfriend he was on and off with, and after their breakup, he’d vowed to be single. I didn’t want to encounter another man who was so stuck in his ways. Been there before.
Also, our friendship mattered more than a great kiss. It was an epic kiss but one I was trying to put out of my mind.
“Of course I’m right!” Nicole exclaims, taking her phone out of her back jeans pocket and glancing at the time. “No more talking. You need to get going because you’ll need to leave here soon.”
I spent the next forty-five minutes getting ready and thinking about Nicole’s advice. Why was I so pressed about Max? He was my friend. Yes, my handsome friend who I felt I could be completely myself around, but he always talked about his lack of belief in relationships.
Why go after a man who could never truly be mine?
If it didn’t work out, that would make work hella awkward and ruin our friendship. I’ve had my share of fuckboys, commitment-phobes, and men in general who can’t pull their heads out of their asses. I don’t need to deal with that ever again. Nope. I was going to have a good time on this date and forget all about Max and the kiss we shared.
Or at least I would try.
Zach lived in lower Manhattan near the Tribeca neighborhood. Returning from Jersey City to New York made the West Village central to us both. My rule was to always meet dates because you never knew who was crazy, and the need may arise to have to escape. Or, if the date was going badly, the last thing I wanted was to be trapped in a car with a man I already lacked chemistry with.
Zach remained secretive about our outing. The heels I was wearing had a thick enough heel that I didn’t think I’d be falling in the melee that was moving about Manhattan.
When I googled the address, the building didn’t give too much info about what was inside. It only made me more curious about what was in store for Zach and I this evening.
Nearing the last corner on Christopher Street, I think of Maxwell and where he is in that moment. I’m aware that I should not be thinking about the man I kissed when I was on my way to a date with another man.
“Kamaya!” I hear Zach call my name. “You look amazing,” he says, giving me a hug that lingered a little longer than we normally would have.
“Thank you,” I say. “So what are we doing tonight? You’ve kept me in suspense long enough.” I decide that I will put Max out of mind for the remainder of the night. He wasn’t sweating me; I wasn’t going to do the same.
Or at least I’d try.
“Instead of the boring dinner and movie, I thought you’d like a cooking class, since you mentioned wanting to learn new cuisines.”
I’m surprised at how much Zach was paying attention to details and immediately admire this about him. “A cooking class is perfect!”
Zach smiles, pleased with his choice. “I’m so thankful that you like it,” Zach says, glancing down at his watch. “We gotta get going.”
Our conversation is amiable in the elevator up to the cooking class. The usual first date jitters are absent. No worrying about pulling my stomach in or making sure to always say something clever. I could be myself with Zach now that he’d started reciprocating interest. It was almost like speaking with a friend.
No, that wasn’t right. I definitely didn’t feel the same way with Zach that I felt with Maxwell. With Maxwell, at times it was like we shared our own secret language that only the two of us could decipher. I didn’t have that kind of relationship with anyone else. Even with Nicole or my sisters.
Ah! I’m doing it again. Cannot think about Max at any point tonight.
We make it to the fifth floor of the multi-business space and Zach leads us to the New York Can Cook! doors.
“This is so cute!” I say to Zach.
New York Can Cook! is a small space with countertops wide enough for two, almost reminding me of the desks used in high school chemistry classes. Instead of Bunsen burners, there’s cutlery, knives, mixing bowls, and cutting boards. Also, along with cooking instruments, there’s a box of pasta, sauce, and black pepper.
The instructor and their assistant quickly start passing out white aprons and begin the lesson in a prompt manner. While listening to their opening instructions, Zach and I make eye contact, trying desperately to hold back our laughter at their extreme antics.
“Prepare to make a feast!” the male instructor says a little too loudly to the small room.
“You ever had cacio e pepe?”
“I love it! This is my first time making it,” I respond. I think back to the last time I had the pasta at Milano’s with Max. I couldn’t seem to get him off my mind.
“It’s my favorite too. Tried making it once and the sauce came out disastrous,” Zach says.
While the pasta continues to boil, Zach chops fresh parsley. “I know we shouldn’t talk shop while on our date, but I will admit that not knowing what’s happening has been driving me crazy. How has it been going with the FJ leak?”
I don’t mind talking about the assignment with Zach. Unlike Max, I tended to see the best in others.
“One of your former employees we looked into wasn’t very helpful, but Max and I are hoping he’ll come around.”
“You spoke with Franco? What did he say?”
Zach stops his ministrations and looks up at me with, dare I say, panic in his eyes. I’d never seen that expression before, and Zach continues to stare back at me expectantly.
I answer carefully.
“Max and I met with Franco. He didn’t know much and maintained his innocence,” I finally say. I move to turn the pot down and drain the water for the pasta. While draining the pasta, I’m stalling. Why was Zach so interested in Franco now? He should be trying to get to know me better away from our workplaces.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be surprised if Franco is behind all this. Sometimes people can’t be trusted, Kamaya. Not you though. I think you’ll see that I’m right about him.”
A weird chill goes through me despite the warmth of the room. How did we get on this subject, and why did his words feel like a threat? This was supposed to be a cute date night, for God’s sake.
“Yeah, well, as I have mentioned, we’re still working on it,” I stammer out, laughing to cover my apprehension.
“Cecily is anxious for this all to be resolved and so am I,” he says, returning to his normally affable disposition.
“What else have you found out?” Zach asks.
I go into detail about Harry and City University as well, as well as the abrupt phone call with Charles Dennis. Zach listens patiently while I explain what Max and I have found.
“Sounds like everything is going according to plan. I knew Cecily and I made the right move coming to you all,” he says, smiling, but it looks hollow and is not meeting his eyes.
Disingenuous.
“We just have to mix in the cacio e pepe sauce, and soon we’ll be ready to eat,” I say. I couldn’t name the strange feeling that overcame me, but I was ready for this date to be over.
I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of being with Zach tonight. Under normal circumstances, a date night with a cooking class would be a fun activity that I would have relished instead of the routine dinner and movie. The handsome, charming guy I’d grown to like now made me apprehensive. It was difficult at times not to talk shop, but using our date as an interrogation about the case gave me bad vibes.
Was Maxwell right about Zach?
Tonight more than ever gave me probable cause that he might not be as innocent as I had assumed. Was Zach asking those questions out of genuine concern, or because he wanted to know if Max and I had somehow connected the case to him?
I finally make it back to the PATH station at Journal Square and head directly to my car, thankful that there is a small crowd moving so I’m not completely alone. I always park my car near the north entrance, even when Maxwell is with me, because this area of the garage is well lit.
Looking around, there are now only a few people on this level of the garage. I’m almost near to where I parked, and I hear footsteps increasing behind me. I keep moving, but I slide my hand into my bag for my taser in case I need to take it out and use it.
I’m only a few feet away when the steps behind me get faster.
“Kam?” asks a deep voice behind me. The sudden loud timbre scares me, and I whirl around with the weapon in my hand.
“Whoa,” the older man says, stopping with his hands up. “I was just trying to return this to you. You dropped it back there.” He points towards the door that led from the station to the garage.
I look at his proffered hand. He’s holding the pink KAM keychain from the Jersey Shore that Maxwell bought for me last summer when we spent time with my family. I didn’t even hear it slip from the key fob.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Thank you,” I say, taking the keychain.
“Um, ah, you’re welcome. Take it easy, miss,” the older man says before moving towards his own vehicle.
My date with Zach was making me paranoid, and I desperately wanted out of this constricting dress and heels and back into the safety of my apartment.
I decide to call Maxwell on my way back to my studio. On the short drive, I keep my eyes trained for any vehicles potentially tailing me, but the coast seemed clear.
“Hey, it’s Max. Why aren’t you texting me?” comes the sound of his voice before the beep, and I hang up. I can wait to discuss what happened with Zach at a later time. Hopefully Max will call or text me back soon.
Once I arrive home, I carefully observe the area outside my apartment building. I see my neighbor Ms. Dean out walking her yapping Yorkie while smoking a cigarette. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but I walk with my taser and move quickly, locking my door and slipping the deadbolt once I’m safely back in the confines of my apartment.
“So, what do you have for me?”
“Not much, unfortunately,” he answers. The person he was hired by smacks the back of the driver’s seat before them.
“What do I pay you for exactly?”
“I got the information you asked for, and I haven’t been able to uncover anything else.”
They lean back against the seat and clasp their hands together. “It’s just these pictures you have with them and some waiter? Very grainy, by the way.”
“I did my best. It was hard having to hide the phone behind a menu and snap as quickly as I could.”
They shake their head and swipe through the photos. “They’re getting closer. Time to up the stakes.”