chapter 10
Albany
Picture this … A sex-starved woman whose last orgasm was the night before she filed for divorce months ago, fueled by visions of the man who broke her heart, a smutty romance novel, and a drawer filled with sex toys.
Yep, that’s me. And I’m fucked.
I stared out of the window at the slew of people walking down the street.
Outside the restaurant, blue skies and mild temps set a vibrant mood, made me want to soak up the energy.
The fun vibe of Campus Martius Park, an area in the heart of downtown, was electric.
Buildings that were once vacant had been restored, shops were full of customers …
the city was lit with excitement. It felt like another world, a melting pot of diverse cultures, trendy restaurants, and one-of-a-kind experiences.
“Albany?”
I tore my gaze from the fountain in front of the restaurant and met Bri’s concerned gaze, before turning my attention to the waitress. “I’m sorry, what?”
The woman smiled. “Would you like to see the dessert menu?”
“No, thanks.” Once the waitress walked away, I took a healthy sip of my third mimosa. “So good.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Kay asked. She snatched my drink away from me. “I thought we were past your drunk phase. Not another sip.”
Brianna snorted. “Too late. She’s already gone, Sissy.” She snagged one of the brunch potatoes off of my plate.
I let out a loud hiccup. “I told you … it’s me. I’m the problem.”
Kay fluffed her long curls before meeting my gaze. “What did you do?” She glanced at her watch. “And make it quick because we don’t have much time.”
I took my time answering the question because saying it out loud would make it real. Instead, I ate a piece of the glazed cherrywood bacon. Groaning, I held it up. “This is delicious.”
“Babe”—Kay squeezed my hand—“I love you, but the wedding shower is in an hour. And I need you to be there and be the amazing person you are.” She glanced at Bri. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”
Bri hunched a shoulder. “Just that she needed to get out before the wedding shower.”
“And because I missed you,” I added. It had been a few days since I was forced to move. While we’d spoken several times, I hadn’t seen Bri since the night I moved in to the new place because she’d been on maid-of-honor duty.
Kay pulled the plate away from me. “Stop stalling. What happened?”
“Nothing,” I assured them. “I just wanted to brunch with two of my favorite people.”
Raising a challenging brow, Kay said, “On the day of my wedding shower? When I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on bitesized food, cucumber sandwiches, and pastel-colored drinks?”
Brianna giggled. “That’s exactly why brunch was a good idea, Sissy. Crustless bread and watered-down cocktails are not my idea of a good time.”
I held up my fork. “That part.”
Kay leaned back into her chair. “It doesn’t matter. But I swear if I don’t see either of y’all with a plate of stuffed mushrooms, veggie tartlets, caprese skewers, and bacon-wrapped dates, I will kick both your asses.”
“Bacon-wrapped dates?” Bri swallowed. “Yuck.”
Frowning, I finished my pancake, which by the way was delicious. Roasted apples and cinnamon-spiced maple syrup. Yum. “Wait a minute, what happened to the chicken wings, meatballs, deviled eggs, and the fruit table?”
“I’m compromising.” Kay grumbled, glaring at Bri. “You already know this.”
“Still”—Bri finished my potatoes—“it’s bad enough I have to wear pastel colors. You know black is my aesthetic.”
Kay twisted her neck, and for the first time I took a good look at my friend. While her makeup was flawless, I noticed the cracks in the foundation. Her shoulders were stiff, her jaw was clenched, and her eyes … lifeless.
“It’s almost over,” Kay breathed, her chin trembling with emotion. “It’s almost over.”
“Sissy?” Bri’s expression softened. “Are you okay? If you don’t want to do this, say the word, we’re out.”
“I’m fine,” Kay exclaimed. “Please. I’m already hearing this from Mom. I can’t talk about it with you.”
Bri leaned forward. “But, Sissy, you don’t look happy for someone about to walk down the aisle in a couple of weeks.”
The last several months, Bri had been dropping hints that something wasn’t right.
Amir’s mother was one of those society types, like Allisifer.
Nothing was ever good enough for her. She’d made the entire wedding planning experience unpleasant with her lofty expectations.
This shower compromise seemed to be the tip of the iceberg for Kay, and I definitely understood where she was coming from.
Concern took over, and I slid into the side of the booth with her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “Are you okay? I can’t believe Mama G hasn’t told Amir’s mother off yet.”
“Oh, she did,” Bri chimed in.
That wasn’t hard to believe. Genie Cobb grew up in one of the toughest neighborhoods on the East Side.
Now, she was deputy mayor of Detroit and the third Black woman to serve in that role.
Before that, she helped run Cobb Law LLC with her husband, Marc.
Needless to say, she didn’t play. Not about her business, her husband, or her kids. Or me.
The difference between Ma and Pop, as I called them, and Amir’s parents was stark.
They were prominent members of the community, but they didn’t flaunt their wealth.
They were down-to-earth and never forgot where they came from.
And it showed in their community work. That wedding shower menu?
It had to be Amir’s mother who’d come up with it because Mama G hated that high-brow food, as she called it.
Sighing, Kay thumped my hand away.
I rubbed the sore spot on my knuckles. “Ouch,” I muttered. “Can I be concerned about my friend?”
“This conversation is supposed to be about you.” Kay bumped my shoulder. “Move.”
Returning to my seat, I bit down on the last piece of bacon. “Fine. But I refuse to eat bacon-wrapped dates.”
Kay laughed finally. “Girl, will you stop with the baconwrapped dates. Yo’ ass better eat everything else, then.”
“What is a veggie tartlet?” I asked.
“Enough.” Kay sliced a hand through the air. “Talk. Is this about Wes?”
Yes. I pointed my fork at her. “No,” I lied.
It wasn’t my fault that I’d reverted back to drowning my sorrows. In my defense, Wes’s charms had waged a full-on assault on my emotions. So much that I’d spent the last few nights dreaming about him. Our last interaction had only made my desire for him stronger.
Bri’s eyes widened. “Uh-oh.” She smirked. “She lost our bet.”
“No.” My denial was as lame as a cucumber sandwich because as much as I wanted that to not be true, she was probably right. I was going to lose the bet. “Shut up.”
“What bet?” Kay asked.
“I’m just sayin’.” Bri shrugged, ignoring her sister. “You look flushed. Just like you did when you and Wes came back in the house from the balcony.”
“Stop,” I hissed. Glancing at Kay, I grumbled, “Get your sister.”
“Our sister,” Kay corrected with a smirk. “I have to say, though. You’re glowing.”
I muttered a string of curses as I waved the waitress over.
To sober up, I placed an order for coffee and waited until we were alone again before I put their suspicions to rest. “I did not fuck Wes.” Yet.
Although the thought did cross my mind several times since I moved in.
It was a big part of the reason I’d gulped down three mimosas in less than an hour.
Because I wanted to forget. I’d even skipped a potential client meeting in favor of bacon, pancakes, and scrambled eggs.
Bri rolled her eyes. “Girl, then why are we here getting day drunk?”
“I know why I’m here drinking,” I retorted. “Why are you?”
Bri’s mouth fell open. “Solidarity. And Hendrix gets on my fuckin’ nerves, so there’s that.”
Shaking her head, Kay massaged her temples. “This is stupid. Just answer the question, Albany.”
“Work is stressful,” I offered.
The legwork involved in any case was rejuvenating.
Yet, being so close to Wes, interacting with him on a daily basis, was torture.
I ran into him in the hallway on most mornings, and I found myself looking forward to seeing him in his gray sweatpants after a run.
I liked watching him interact with Erica and his cousins.
Despite everything that happened between us in the past, he was still a pretty awesome guy.
The proof was in his willingness to do small things that mattered.
Bringing me coffee from the shop around the corner in the morning before he left for the office.
Assembling my new ergonomic office chair.
Helping me set up a few security cameras in my place. Just in case.
Our banter. I swear, I couldn’t get away with anything. He called me on my bullshit every time. Lord, he stayed on my last nerve. I liked it, though. I kinda like him.
And he was right … I picked arguments on purpose when I felt like we were getting too close. Yesterday, I yelled at him for not getting my Big Mac without pickles. He didn’t even have to buy me anything, but he did because I told him I was craving McDonald’s.
The Wes he’d been for the past several days was the Wes I’d always known, the man that would burn the world to the ground for me because he cared so much.
Hard shell. Soft, chewy inside. Like Skittles.
It was difficult to reconcile that person with the one who broke my heart.
And I reminded myself of that every time I saw him.
Still, the more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to spend with him.
Then, there was that almost kiss. The way his gaze had dropped to my lips, the smell of his skin, the stubble on his jaw.
The lean, the way he’d slowly inched closer.
So close I felt his breath on my mouth and the heat of his body against mine.
And damn it, as much as I hated to admit it, I had wanted him to kiss me that night.
My phone buzzed. I glanced down at the screen.