Mr. Mysterious In Black (25 page)

BOOK: Mr. Mysterious In Black
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“Miss Francé? Are you okay?” I heard Cara call from behind me.

Straightening my posture, I flashed my tears away and whisked through the front door without answering. My feet walked at quick pace to the parking lot. I couldn’t let anyone else see me like this. Weak and lifeless was how I felt, wanting to curl up into a ball and cry for days.

Upon pressing the unlock button on the car key of Tevin’s Trailblazer, I noticed a white
Mercedes Cabriolet
parked next to it. The sleekness proclaimed ‘I’m new’. Polished and glistened like a diamond among beads. Out of curiosity, I pressed the unlock button on the car key that came in the parcel. My hand flew to my mouth when the car beeped in response.

Whoa!
He bought me a freaking Mercedes-Benz. What?

On impulse, I walked around it. She was…a beauty. I pressed another button and the roof folded backwards, the scent of new leather traveled on the air. Quickly, I stepped away. No. I couldn’t accept this. But to whom do I return it? I’ve no knowledge of his residence in San Fran.

Didn’t he mention something about an apartment in his letter? I shook the envelope and another key on a heart-shaped key ring slid out. How did he even know that Kelsy had an apartment at Esprit? Jeez, the man was omniscient! Did he really expect me to accept these? Why did he think he needed to do any of this?

I wanted
him
. Only him. His firm, masculine body next to mine. His hard phallus moving inside me. Not what he can give me materially. Come back to me.

A blubbering mess, I climbed into the Trailblazer. How could I move on and forget about him if I were to live in an apartment and drive a car that was bought by him? Did he not see how stupid that would be?

Maybe he
doesn’t
want me to forget about him…

Without even knowing for sure what happened that night, I’d pushed him away. He hadn’t a chance to explain because I didn’t give him one. I was too hurt. Too unforgiving. Too confused.

Now, he’s given up. And he’s gone. Out of my life, again.

Is this what I want?

Yes.

No.

I don’t know.

Maybe, I should do as he’s done. Unclasp, let it go, and move on. Only I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

I fished for my Blackberry and dialed. A smooth Hispanic voice answered, “Sup, baby girl?”

“Tev, I’ve got a gift for you. Brand new. You’re gonna love it.”

Chapter Fifteen

F
ive weeks passed…

“Francé,” Geo Lee began, once I was in his office on my return with Chinese food for lunch. “This is not my normal doing, but I think you are very talented and such deserves to be known.”

I frowned at him, wondering where his ramblings would lead to.

“There’s this bidding on Monday. It’s an annual thing, where talented, novice designers get the chance to model their pieces on a runway. There will be a host of big-name fashion dealers—I’m not sure what enterprises just yet—who will be bidding on the designs they like and want to carry in their stores. If they like a piece, they bid, no lower than forty thousand dollars. If a piece is coveted buy multiple dealers, a bidding war starts and the price for that design can escalate up to two hundred thousand dollars.”

My mouth fell open.

Geo laughed at my astonished expression. “Yes, Francé, you could make a lot of money. That’s if you work your ass off this weekend on some killer pieces. I pulled some strings and got you in. Someone gave me a chance in life once. I’m doing the same for someone I believe is worth it. Now, don’t let me down. Opportunities like this don’t come often.”

At work’s end, I left GLFH in a daze. Whoa. Working with Geo Lee had major advantages. Why did he have so much faith in me?

His fashion show had been a success and we’ve only been busier since then. Stolen clients were soon returning because the renowned Geo Lee had gotten his spunk back. A trail mix of celebrities: movie stars, singers, rappers, etcetera. I’d come face-to-face with people I’d only ever seen on television. My job was amazing. And now Geo Lee was giving me a fiercer push forward.

Oh, can I do it?
Of course I can.

A grin resided on my face; I could hardly wait to relay this news unto my mother. It was Thursday, and her visits were pushed to late evenings because of my job. Hmm, time to visit my mom at her new home—courtesy of Natalio. Something I was sorely vexed for, but could do nothing about, because it was
her
gift from him and not mine. And she’d gratefully accepted it.

Though it had been more than five weeks ago, I could still hear the ecstasy in her voice when I’d finally gotten through to her that Friday—the day after Natalio’s letter. The preceding day, I—in my solemn state evoked by the letter—had made my usual stop at Miss De’Lacy’s to see her. Only, no one was there, neither her nor Miss De’Lacy. When I’d phoned her, Miss De’Lacy had told me, in brevity, that my mother was “Busy, um, occupied.”

Busy doing what? Occupied how? She barely even speaks to anyone, I’d thought to myself. And so I was left confused and deeply worried.

The answers to my questions came on the subsequent day when she was, by then,
unoccupied.
That was when I gained knowledge that while I was sobbing profusely over Natalio’s letter, he was out entertaining with my mother…

“Oh darling, he’s such a sweetheart!” She’d blushed over the phone as soon as I answered it. And I was staggeringly taken aback by the springiness in her usually frail voice.

“W-who?”

“Your Natalio guy.”


What
? How do you know Natalio? You’ve seen him?” At that point I was beyond confused.

“Yes, darling. He came by to see me yesterday morning. Was such a courteous young man. Struck me up into conversation—not that it was hard for him to do so, for he’s one helluva man—and somehow got to me to agree to spend the day out with him,” Mom gushed.

I’d listened with my mouth hanging to the floor. More for the fact that my mother spoke with such vivacity than for the irritating fact that Natalio had visited her. “We had a wonderful day. He’s so polite and intelligent and attentive. I was enthralled. Except that he was an obvious workaholic. His cell phone was a nuisance…There’s something oddly familiar about him though.”

Wouldn’t try to refute that observation.

“My evening culminated with the keys to my
own
house. How generous to a sickly old croon like me?”

“What?!” I’d screamed, appalled.
Oh I could kill him!

“You should come see it, sweetheart. The basement is furnished as a design room, loaded with fabrics and designer’s apparatuses. It’s splendid! “

“Mom, Natalio and I are
not
together. We’ve…parted. And I can’t believe you accepted a house from a complete stranger! How could you?” I could hardly contain my anger at Natalio’s presumptuousness and my mother’s lack of discretion.

“Darling, calm down. He’d never once made me feel like an infected human. Not for one second. I’d almost forgotten I was ill. It was one of my best spent days in years. I accepted because I will soon die from this insidious illness. It’s been years since I’ve smiled or felt special or normal. And you try very hard with me, and I don’t make things any easier for you. I’m sorry. My state is ignominious, I’m not at a point in my life to be prideful. If some heavy-pocketed man wants to buy me a house to put a smile on my face and make my last days’ worth living then I’ll accept. He told me you’d be mad. And that when you were calm, I should remind you that his brother’s a real estate tycoon.”

“Oh, you don’t have any idea how mad I am! I could kill him!” I’d yelled. “I can’t believe he did that! He promised me he’d stay away.”

When she spoke again, her soft and delicate voice had returned. The voice she’d told me stories with when I was a child, the voice she’d sang to me with, the voice that had assured me of a mother’s love, the voice that belonged to
her
, Theresa Francé. “You are so much like your father: Stubborn, full of pride, abusive and
blind.

My voice fell. “I can’t…I can’t believe you just compared me to that horrible man. How am I abusive?”

She sighed. “Can you not see how much that man loves you? Every time he mentions your name he winces with pain, then smiles to hide his shame.”

My eyes brimmed with tears. “Mom, you don’t know what he did to me. You can’t take his side.” Well, she did know. I just needed to remind her who Natalio really was.

“I’m not taking his side, darling. I’m only taking what he offers,” she laughed.
Oh! Theresa Francé laughing again!

“He told me you left him and he’s accepted it. He explained to me that he understood you wanted nothing more to do with him, but that he just wanted to make sure you faced no more hardships, because you’ve been through a lot. And I agree. I encouraged him to come see me again, but he said he was positive you wouldn’t want that, and that he’d promised to stay away, and besides, he wouldn’t be on U.S soil for a while.”
Damn, my mom was talking more than she’d ever done since her attempt at suicide. And where was Natalio going?


From what I’ve seen so far, darling, he’s a good man. And he obviously cares about you. Too bad things couldn’t have worked out between you two.”

“Looks are deceiving, mom. You don’t know the pain he’s caused me.”

“Come by, darling. Come tell me about it. I want to be your mother again. Let me.”

I’d promptly done so, and she’d lapsed into a lecture about forgiveness. But I was so mad at Natalio, I didn’t take heed. On the sunny side, Natalio’s interference, I had to admit, had aid in my mother’s betterment. She started sewing again. Laughing again. Cooking, gardening and enjoying her new home. And I knew she’d love this news. It had always been a dream of hers. But she’d been stagnant at a small fashion house working for an ungrateful designer who didn’t believe in giving others a chance.

I’d been given one.

Looking back, I’d been so low, lost and empty that I’d subjected myself to climbing poles half-naked for the entertainment of bored husbands.

But I was saved. Saved by someone who saw that I needed to be rescued. I only wished he’d come rescue me from the heartache he’d caused, too. For whilst he helped me, he’d hurt me.

Things were all fun and bright when I was busy inside the building of GLFH. But as soon as I was out, I’d be somersaulted by the pain again. It has been over five weeks since The Letter.

Natalio had kept his promise. For once. He hadn’t called, texted, or bothered me at all. And almost every day, I was wishing he did. My heart leaped each time my Blackberry chirped, hoping it was him. But it never was. He was truly done, given up, gone.

It was what I asked for. Yet weeks later I was still crying myself to sleep at nights. I’d realized then that I’ve never really stopped loving him at all. My memory had, but my heart hadn’t. When my eyes had seen him again, my body had known before
I
did who he was. That’s why I’d felt so close to him, so at peace with him, so familiar. My spirit knew his, knew his touch, knew his kiss. And I now know why it was so easy for me to melt in his arms, enslaving myself to him. Unable to stay away.

I loved him.

I missed him.

And as each day went by, I loved and missed him even more. Because the memories, the good ones, habituated themselves in my mind, reminding me that he was once the light of my world.

Why hadn’t I allowed him to explain? Whether he’d be lying to me or not, any excuse would’ve sufficed because I still wanted him. Still loved him. No longer did it matter why he did what he did. For me, it had faded into insignificance. What mattered was that he came back, but my obduracy had muscled him out of my present and back into my past.

Misery was what I’d brought upon myself.

I scaled into Tevin’s Trailblazer and turned the key in the ignition. The jeep wouldn’t start. Repeated the process for another five minutes and failed. Frustrated, I called Tevin for aid.

“You have to put gas in the vehicle if you want it to drive, Sadie,” Tevin admonished me like a middle-aged man as I hopped into his jeep.

I laughed. “I said I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy I—”

“I know. I’ll come get it tomorrow. Right now, there’s something I have to deliver and I’m tardy.” Tevin pushed the pedal to the metal and weaved through the heavy traffic. It was that time of the evening when everyone was wearily leaving their jobs and was impatient to get home. The air was thick with carbon dioxide emanating from mufflers, car horns honking inharmoniously, people dashing out to cross the streets without warning, bikers squeezing through narrow spaces, making this time of the evening what it was: rush hour.

Sagaciously, I buckled my seat belt, because if Tevin was in haste, then he was about to find his way out of this chaos by hook or by crook. “Why didn’t you tell me you were busy? I could’ve called Kels.”

“Because you’re like my little sister. I can’t say no to you. Ever. Even when I try,” he said, winking a long-lashed eye at me. A black tam sat slanted on his head and his long gold chain panged on the steering wheel due to his crouched posture as he concentrated hard on overtaking every car so he could make it on time to…wherever he needed to be. And as always, I wanted to ask him if he didn’t feel hot in that oversized graffiti shirt and baggy jeans, but knew he’d only roll his eyes at me. “And Kelsy’s busy unpacking at the store. You know that.”

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