Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Jayson’s townhouse announced itself from half a block away with thumping music before Maxwell saw the three-story building. Jayson was no stranger to noise complaints, and Maxwell fully expected him to generate several during the night’s festivities.
The street outside was lined with cars, some of them blocking in other vehicles.
Maxwell didn’t go inside right away. He stood on the other side of the door, hesitating.
A year ago, maybe six months ago, this party would have excited him.
He used to look forward to the crowd, the noise, the electricity of meeting new people, and having a good time while he did.
Instead, coming here tonight felt more like an obligation than an event to look forward to. Maybe he was just tired.
He knew better than to ring the doorbell because no one would hear him. He and Jayson had keys to each other’s homes in case of emergency, but he didn’t need to use his key because when he turned the knob, the door gave and he let himself inside.
Exactly as he had expected, the house was filled with people standing wall to wall, dancing, leaning into each other as they talked at close range because talking at a normal range wasn’t an option when the music was so loud.
The lights were low and red tinged, and the room decorated with a Valentine’s Day theme.
Foil hearts were strung across the ceiling, and tables along the wall were draped with red and pink and practically overflowing with enough food to feed the entire neighborhood.
Bartenders worked a bar in the corner, and a DJ was set up in front of one of the windows.
The floor in front of him was packed with bodies that moved to a track Maxwell recognized right away—”F**kin’ Problems” by A$AP Rocky, featuring Drake, 2 Chainz, and Kendrick Lamar.
Jayson’s theme song.
In front of the DJ stand, drink raised and wearing a pink feather boa over a red smoking jacket like the one his hero Hugh Hefner used to wear, was none other than Jayson rapping word for word at the top of his lungs.
No, he wasn’t merely rapping. He was belting out the lyrics and performing, with both arms extended and his drink sloshing to the floor with complete disregard for the mess he was making.
In the middle of yelling about how much he loved bad bitches, Jayson spotted him, his face brightened, and he pointed with his drink hand.
He yelled something that couldn’t be heard above the music and the crowd, and then he was moving through the bodies with the ease of a man in his natural habitat, arriving in front of Maxwell with his arm already extended.
“Where you been? I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” Jayson pulled him into a one-armed hug.
“I said I’d be here,” Maxwell told him with a laugh, clapping him on the back.
Jayson stepped back and examined his appearance. “You look too serious. We need to get a drink in your hand.”
“I just got here.”
“Late. You need to catch up, bro.” With one hand on Maxwell’s shoulder, he steered him toward the bar. “A dark ‘n’ stormy for my man.”
“Not tonight. I’ll have a Heineken, if you have it,” Maxwell said to the woman behind the counter. Seconds later, he was holding a green bottle in his hand.
“Look at this turnout,” Jayson said, sounding excited. “People came out of the woodwork looking for a good time.”
The party was certainly jumping, and everyone seemed in a good mood. No surprise. Jayson knew how to throw a party. He’d been throwing them since high school whenever his parents were out of town.
Maxwell sipped his beer.
“There are some beautiful women here. Check out the one in the jeans, at ten o’clock.” Maxwell could smell the liquor on Jayson’s breath when he leaned in to talk.
Following his friend’s gaze, he saw the woman Jayson was talking about. She was definitely attractive, and the jeans hugged her bodacious bottom like cling wrap.
“Oh, my, my, my. Look at the gorgeous woman in the gold dress over there by the window. Lord have mercy.”
Another fine specimen. “I see her,” Maxwell said.
“And?”
“And what?”
Jayson stared at him. “Who are you, and what did you do with my boy, Maxwell Santana?”
Maxwell laughed easily. “I’m right here. Give me a minute to get warmed up, you bastard.”
“The Maxwell I know doesn’t need to get warmed up, but I’m going to cut you some slack. By the way, Jenny’s here. Newly divorced. Lonely. Do with that information what you will.” Jayson winked at him and then danced into the middle of the crowded room.
Maxwell spent the next thirty minutes or so doing exactly what was required of him, which included chatting with the other invitees, laughing at the appropriate moments, and eating some of the delicious food provided by Jayson’s caterers.
There were three things he could always count on at a Jayson party—plenty of liquor, plenty of delicious food, and the best music.
While he was indulging in a hot and spicy chicken wing, Jenny approached, looking incredible in a clingy red dress and dangling heart earrings. Her body was thicker than the last time he saw her, but her caramel-toned skin carried the same glow.
“Hey, Maxwell,” she said.
“Jenny Mays. Good to see you.” He leaned in for a one-armed hug.
“Good to see you, too. Heard you were back and working—as a doctor, right?”
Maxwell nodded. “Pediatrician, at a practice up in Gwinnett.”
“Good for you. You’re doing exactly what you said you’d do. I, on the other hand...” She wrinkled her nose.
“I heard. You’re divorced?”
Jenny, for as long as he’d known her, had talked about getting married and having a family. Her candid conversations had been a turn-off for most men their age, including Maxwell. When he’d heard she’d gotten married right out of college, he hadn’t been surprised, but the divorce was.
“Yeah, it didn’t last.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not. I got a beautiful little girl out of it.”
She didn’t seem too heartbroken, and he hoped she truly was okay.
The ending of a marriage could be difficult for both parties.
He’d seen firsthand how much pain broken vows inflicted.
His brother, Ethan, had married and divorced a witch, barely escaping with his life, the family believed.
Then, of course, there were his parents, who had split, though they were back together, which he was still trying to process.
He and Jenny slipped into a comfortable conversation, catching up on what each had been up to since they last saw each other in college.
When she said she’d probably gotten married too early, Maxwell didn’t comment, sticking to his decision to simply nod at the appropriate points in the conversation.
“That’s the third time,” Jenny said suddenly.
Maxwell looked up from his phone screen. “Sorry?”
She pointed at the phone in his hand. “That’s the third time in the past fifteen minutes that you’ve looked at your phone. Am I that boring?”
Maxwell slid the device back into his jacket pocket. “I’m checking for messages. It’s a work thing.”
“Are you on call?”
“In my profession, you don’t really get to take the weekends off.”
The lie slid easily from his tongue, because how could he tell her he was checking for a phone call from a woman who would never call him?
That he had given her the number to his personal phone—not the spare phone which he kept for women and acquaintances—the personal phone for close friends and family.
A woman who had made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with him outside of teasing remarks and playful banter at work.
He tossed an apologetic smile Jenny’s way. “What were you saying now?”
The smile worked, and she started talking to him again, updating him on the difficulty she was having with leaving her daughter at daycare so that she could go to work now that she was a single mother.
Five minutes later, she drifted off toward a group of women, but Maxwell didn’t follow. He checked his phone again.
Nothing. His mother and one of his nieces had sent him Valentine’s Day messages, which he had already responded to. But there were no missed calls or voicemails from an unknown number.
He tucked away his phone and went in search of Jayson and found his friend near the food table with a plate in his hand, holding court with a group of women who were laughing at something he had said.
Jayson excused himself and approached Maxwell. “You okay, man? Before you say you’re fine, remember that I’ve known you since high school, and you can save the bullshit answer for somebody who doesn’t know you as well.”
Maxwell acknowledged the truth of his words with a faint smile and leaned against the wall. “I’m good, but I…” He didn’t know what to say, which was unusual. “I’m off tonight for some reason.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely off. You still have your jacket on, bro.”
Maxwell looked down at his leather jacket. He hadn’t paid attention to this detail, and he was a detail person. He was wearing the jacket as if he was passing through and had no desire to stay. He was physically at the party, but mentally elsewhere.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Jayson asked with genuine concern.
“Nah,” Maxwell said, brushing off his concern with the wave of his hand. “But whatever is wrong, it’s not the party. As usual, you’ve outdone yourself.”
Jayson grinned with pride. “I already know the problem isn’t my party. Can’t nobody throw a party like I do.”
Maxwell’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the screen.
Hey are you still at ur friend’s party? This is Jasmine.
He looked up at Jayson, excitement thrumming in his veins. “I need to go.”
“Go? Something wrong?”
“Nah, something’s right.”
A wide grin spread across Jayson’s face. “It’s a chick, ain’t it? Go on then, Casanova. That’s the only reason I’m allowing you to bail on my party. I want all the deets tomorrow.”
Maxwell was already moving through the crowded room, heading for the door with concentrated focus. The night air was cold and sharp, less cloying than the heat of the party. Standing a few feet away from the townhouse, he dialed the number. Jasmine answered on the second ring.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just that you said—”
“You didn’t bother me.” He wanted to allay the uncertainty he heard in her voice. “Matter of fact, you caught me at a good time. I just left the party.”
“You left already? It’s kind of early. You must not have been having a good time.”
“Jayson always throws a good party, but I wasn’t in the right headspace tonight.”
“I understand. Well, since you’re not at the party—”
“You want to get together and do something?”
“Oh. I... well, sure. I guess.”
“Where are you?”
“At home. I was going to go over to my parents’ house, but they went out for Valentine’s Day. They don’t usually celebrate, but Dad surprised Mom with tickets to a play and they’re going for drinks afterward. As for me, well... I need to get out of this apartment. It’s too quiet.”
Maxwell started walking. “You need to be outside.”
“Yes, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and you know every restaurant in Atlanta will be filled with couples.”
“Then we avoid the restaurants. I’ll come get you.”
“And then what?”
“We live in the largest city in the southeast. There’s a ton of stuff to do.”
There was a beat of quiet before she responded. “You know what, you’re right, and I have an idea.” She sounded upbeat all of a sudden.
“What did you have in mind?” Maxwell stopped beside his car in the dark.
“Just come get me. Hopefully, you’re dressed casually, because where we’re going you don’t need to impress anyone.”
“Hmm... that’s going to be tough.”
“Why?”
“Because impressing people comes naturally, no matter what I wear.”
Jasmine groaned. “Why do I feel like this is a mistake?”
“Let me behave before you change your mind. I’ll be there in less than thirty minutes.”
Maxwell hung up and hopped into his car with renewed energy. All of a sudden, he was in a better mood.