Fixin’ Tyrone (14 page)

“Don’t tell me you got a room, too,” Mia said.

Eric produced a key from his coat. “I wouldn’t take you to a mere
room
, my dear. I have a
luxury suite
.”

Nothing Mia had ever experienced could compare her for the romance of that evening. They laughed, and talked, and danced, and held each other close. But as the evening slipped into the twilight hours, Mia began to feel guilty. She had a problem. It wasn’t something she had any control over, but it could potentially turn their enchanted evening into a frustrating nightmare.

They sat on the king-size bed kissing and cuddling. When their caresses turned to heavy petting, she decided to drop the bomb before things got out of hand.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What’s wrong?” Eric asked, his smile as big as a fat kid with a box of honey buns.

“My monthly visitor is here,” Mia said. “I’m sorry. I would have told you, but I didn’t know you were getting a room—I mean, a
luxury suite
. That’s the problem with surprises sometimes . . .”

Eric’s smile faltered only a little. “Well,” he said, and paused.

Mia thought he was going to say, ‘
Well, there are other things you could do
,’ which would have cost him a shot at her goodies for at least a month, but instead he hit her with an oldie, but goodie, a la Jermaine Stewart.

“Well, we don’t have to take our clothes off to have a good time.”

“Oh no?” Mia said.

“We could dance and party, all night,” Eric said.

“And drink some cherry wine?” Mia mused.

“
Uh huh
,” Eric sang, and then he kissed her. He kissed her so tenderly, so softly, Mia wasn’t sure if their lips touched.

MIA IN DEMAND

Mia was neck deep in papers and files and figures. She had a pencil in her mouth, a pen on her ear, and a tension headache stomping on the back of her eyeballs. And it was only 11:00 a.m. Her phone rang, and Mia snatched it up angrily.

“What is it?” she growled.

Fortunately Miss Tenery was used to this sometimes hostile work environment.

“That
Eric
fellow is holding on line four,” she reported.

Mia rubbed her forehead. “Oh, I don’t have time for that.”

“Shall I say you’re out?”

Mia sighed. She hadn’t returned any of his calls this week. “No, I’d better take it.”

“Very good,” Miss Tenery, said and there was a click on the line.

“Hello. Eric?”

“Mia. What’s going on? Good to hear your voice. Glad you’re not dead.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

“I haven’t seen you in
three
weeks,” he said. “The last time I had a chance to kiss those pretty lips was a—”

“At the Ritz,” Mia said. “I remember. I’ll never forget.”

“So why the silent treatment?”

“Eric, you know it’s not like that. I told you we had that Comsec account coming up. We have that new girl here, too. It’s been crazy. By the time we show her how to do everything, we could have been done twice already. Mr. Manitou’s been riding my ass—”

“I know you’re busy at work,” Eric said. “But you don’t call when you get home, either. I haven’t seen you two weekends in a row.”

“Eric, I worked the last two Saturdays, and I’m so tired on Sundays that I don’t feel like doing anything but being with the kids. It’s not you, though. Don’t take it personal. I’m off tomorrow. Maybe we could do something then.”

“Okay. So three weeks later I finally get a date? I take you to the Ritz, get a luxury suite. We can’t even do anything ’cause you’re on your period, but that’s okay.
Three
weeks later you finally have time for me? You know, we haven’t been intimate since that first time. You remember—that night you broke my windshield. But all right, Mia. I’ll take your crumbs. What do you want to do tomorrow?”

Mia exhaled hot fumes from her nostrils. “Eric, I’d better get off the phone before one of us says something we’ll regret.”

“Huh? What’s wrong now? You can’t call me when you get home. You can’t talk to me at work. You seemed to have had a lot of time for me a month ago.”

“Eric, work was different then, and it’ll be different a month from now. This is the way my life is. I’m sorry I haven’t called you as much lately, but I usually don’t leave here until six or seven. I barely get home in time to have a late dinner with the kids, read to ’em and tuck ’em in. I have to get up at six, so by the time the kids are in bed, I’m ready to pass out, too. Yes, maybe I should have called you last night, but we’re not in high school. I figured you could go a day or two without hearing from me.”

“I don’t think it’s immature for me to want more than what you’re offering.”

“Okay, Eric. I get it. I will call you more often. But right now I’ve got a stack of papers on my desk. I’ve got a headache already and it’s not even lunchtime. Nothing I say right now is going to sound good, so why don’t you just let me call you when I get off. It’s Friday. We can stay up all night, fall asleep with the phones on our ears if you want.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“When are you going to let me meet your kids?” Eric asked. “We’ve been dating for two months.”

“How about this,” Mia offered. “We can
all
go out tomorrow.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I usually spend Saturdays with them, but it would be nice if you were there, too. They’ve been asking about you. I think they’re ready to meet you.”

“That’s awesome,” Eric said. “Hey, I’m sorry about getting an attitude. I just miss you is all.”

“I miss you, too, Eric. We cool? I gotta go.”

“Okay,
Miss Busy
. We cool. But, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“That guy, TC’s father, is he still coming by?”

Mia found that question odd. “Um, yes. I started letting him pick TC up last week. He’s coming to get him today, as a matter of fact. Why?”

“So, you been seeing that nigga more than me?”

“You’re not serious.”

“No. I guess not.”

“Good. Gotta go.”

“All right. Bye, Mia,” Eric said and hung up.

Mia hung up too and stared at the phone for a second. Eric was tripping, but she knew she had a lot to do with it. This was an ongoing problem, and not just with this boyfriend. Mia was so focused on her dream that sometimes she didn’t consider how it affected others. Some men could go a few days without talking to their woman, but Eric wasn’t one of those guys. Now she knew. She would try to be more attentive to his needs, but there was no ring on her finger, so the dream still came first.

Mia wondered why Eric had asked her about Tyrone. While it was true she saw TC’s father more than her boyfriend lately, Mia didn’t see why that was a problem. She never spoke positively about Tyrone to Eric, and she certainly never said anything that would make Eric think she liked the hoodlum. She hoped these weren’t signs that Eric was going to be insecure and whiny. Mia hated those types.

Miss Tenery marched into her office a few minutes later. “You haven’t made plans for lunch yet, have you?”

Mia looked up at the clock. “No, why?”

“Mr. Manitou is expecting you at Kapparis at noon.”

“
Kapparis
? Who picked that? Why couldn’t we just do lunch here with a couple of sandwiches?”

“I’m not sure,” Miss Tenery said. “I believe Mr. Manitou
wanted
to meet there.”

“That man is weird.”

“Most Africans are,” the secretary said, and then turned beet red. “Um, I’m sorry, I mean to say—”

Mia shook her head. “That’s not cool. You really need to work on that negativity.”

Miss Tenery was very embarrassed. “I’m sorry . . .”

“I guess I’d better get ready to go,” Mia said. “Do you have the reports?”

“Yes ma’am,” Miss Tenery said, happy to leave the room.

* * *

Mr. Manitou was a senior analyst for Prospect Investments. Mia didn’t know which African country he was from, but she knew his family was wealthy. He was very dark-skinned with short, salt-and-pepper-colored hair, although he was only forty. Mr. Manitou was a stickler for details. He carried himself with an air of superiority Mia wished more black men possessed, but kids in America aren’t taught about African kings and queens. Mr. Manitou had firsthand experience.

He stood and pulled Mia’s chair out for her as she approached his table. She couldn’t get used to this sort of pampering, no matter how many times it happened.

“Thank you, sir. You’re very polite.”

“It is my pleasure,” Mr. Manitou said. He spoke with a rich accent Mia found charming.

Mr. Manitou wore a beige suit with a white collar shirt and a trendy tie. He was dark-skinned and exceptionally handsome. He reminded her of R&B singer Tyrese. He had large, rough hands, but his nails were manicured. Mr. Manitou was a nice enough guy, but too much of a hard-ass for Mia’s tastes. She was a hard worker herself, but didn’t think this guy ever stopped to smell the roses.

Eager to start and be done with their meeting, Mia popped her briefcase open, pushed her menu to the side, and dropped three large file folders on the table.

“I think you’re going to like these projections,” she said. “The Comsec account is going to make us look real good in the next quarter.”

Mr. Manitou smiled. “Too much work. You look stressed. Let us eat first.”

“Well, we have a lot to do,” Mia said. “I thought we could get through the quarterly stuff before lunch gets here. We can look at the accrual calculations while we eat, and—”

“No, put it away,” Mr. Manitou said. “You should calm your nerves. We’ll talk about work after we eat. Okay?”

That was actually
not
okay. Doing it his way would stretch this one-hour lunch into two, but technically Mr. Manitou was her superior, so Mia returned the folders to her briefcase and picked up her menu.

“Okay. What’s good? Have you been here before?” she asked.

The analyst studied his own menu. “What would you like for an appetizer?” he asked.

Mia couldn’t hide her frustration. “Mr. Manitou, I don’t believe we’ll have time to go over all of this if we get an appetizer. It’s gonna be hard enough with just lunch.”

Mr. Manitou shook his head and smiled. “Mia, you must
relax
. Forget about work for now. Pretend your briefcase isn’t even there. The food will not taste the same on a stressed palate.”

“I’ve never heard that before.”

“It is true.”

“So, you’re not concerned that we may not have time to go over these projections?”

“If we do not finish, I will come by your office Monday or sometime next week. ’Tis no rush.”

“Okay,” Mia said. She was a little perplexed, but this was Mr. Manitou’s meeting. He could conduct it in whatever manner he wished, as far as she was concerned.

“I’ve only been here once,” she told him. “I don’t know what I would order for an appetizer. I’m not even sure I can eat an appetizer an
d
a lunch, but if you get one I’ll take a few bites.”

Mr. Manitou smiled. “Great. I was thinking about the funghi ripieni.”

“You have a nice accent.”

“I speak five languages.”

“I’m impressed,” Mia said. “I’ll be more impressed when you tell me what
funghi ripieni
means.”

“You said it very nicely yourself.”

“I was just mimicking you.”

“That’s great. Mimicking is the most basic form of learning.”

He sounded like a wise griot. Mia loved listening to him talk.

“Funghi ripieni is mushrooms stuffed with crabmeat and fresh herbs,” he said.

“That sounds good. I think I will have a few of those.”

“And your main course?”

“Mmm. I don’t know. You seem to know what you’re doing. What would you suggest?”

Mr. Manitou looked over the menu. “Would you like a pasta or chicken? Or maybe steak, or perhaps fish?”

“Something with chicken,” Mia said and closed her menu.

“Do you like the breast?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Mr. Manitou summoned their waiter.

“You guys ready to order?”

“Yes. We are going to start with the funghi ripieni. The lady is having pollo portobello, and I will have the bistecca alla griglia this afternoon.” He looked over at Mia. “Would you like a red wine?”

She was startled. “Um, I have to go back to work. Don’t
you
?”

Mr. Manitou smiled. “Yes. Of course you’re right. I’ll have tea.”