Rituals for Love (9781476761893) (23 page)

The toughest time we ever had in our relationship was during my breakup with Bryce. She was gunning for me to be with her brother. She wanted to overlook all of the crazy things he had done, the lies and the cheating, because she thought love would conquer everything. Thankfully, I wasn't willing to overlook those things. She didn't think love was capable of conquering all of that in her own life, but for Bryce and me she was convinced. I heard stories about their rough upbringing and how their parents fought all the time. She always wanted to make concessions for her brother. I understood why she felt the way she did. They were twins. She loved him unconditionally and wanted the best for him. I was the best. However, he wasn't the best for me. When I looked back on
my time with Bryce, I wasn't proud of the person I had become. Ignoring the obvious, accepting disrespect, and giving someone more chances to do wrong by me. I couldn't deny that I was partly responsible for the state of my relationship. I could have left numerous times, yet I didn't. I was hanging on to the illusion of love when love was nowhere in sight. I knew better. I had seen better growing up. I had loving parents that demonstrated real love. My parents provided me with a template of what a relationship should be. Bryce and I weren't even close. I dodged a big bullet when it came to him.

My bag vibrated next to me. I pulled my phone out. Omar.

Did you make it home safely?

I'm still in one piece.

Are you all showered and smelling good?

I always smell good.

I would like to find out.

I craned my neck and looked at the phone. He was a mess. So much for the chat we had at Blaze. He didn't care if he tipped the boat over.

He fired off another text.

It's true…

You need to find a girlfriend.

You're right. I need someone special that I can shower with after a night at the club.

I tried to tell you to find someone at Blaze.

I got distracted when you started talking about your panties.

What's with you and my panties? I said you should charm the panties off a cutie at the club.

I was trying.

These panties are spoken for…remember?

I hope they're being taken care of. Gently, delicately, lovingly.

Sounds like you're interested in doing laundry.

I'd do your laundry. Your panties and your bras.

I laughed out loud while I texted my reply.

I wouldn't want you messing up my expensive unmentionables.

I have experience.

Not with these.

Let me see and I'll let you know if I've worked with them before.

Let you see?

Send me a pic.

He was relentless. I sat up and grabbed my La Perla catalog from the coffee table. I flipped through the pages until I found a model with my caramel complexion. I snapped a picture of her in a sheer, black bra. I cropped the photo so only her neck to navel were visible. I sent the picture to Omar.

Could you launder this for me?

I held the phone in my hand, smiling at the display. He replied immediately.

Is that really you?

LOL! Goodnight, Omar.

T
wo days and not a word from Jade. I left her a message the night before and she hadn't returned my call. It wasn't like her—it wasn't like us—not to communicate with one another. She was entitled to be mad and deal with her anger in her own way. I didn't like it, but I wasn't going to push the issue. I was sure she had received my message and when she was ready to talk, she would reach out. Until then, I'd let her be. Hopefully, I would be in the mood to talk. If not, we'd deal with the fallout.

I was in love with a strong-willed woman. I appreciated that about her, but sometimes she couldn't see past her own awareness of a situation. She wanted things her way and if she felt she was right, then she was right. I had never been the type of man that had to prove I was right about an issue. I'd rather find a resolution and move on from the problem. I wanted to talk, she didn't. She was mad and wanted to stay mad. I had replayed our conversation in my head a few times. I didn't think I said anything that should have made her angry, but the conversation had definitely taken a wrong turn. When we first started dating, we were both consumed with one another. It was as if we were so surprised at how someone right under our noses sparked such an immediate reaction. Our chemistry was off the charts. I was always attracted to Jade, but she was involved with someone else. The day she opened her eyes to me, it was as if a veil was lifted. We were drawn to each other
in ways neither of us expected. I stopped doing things that I normally would, as did Jade. We spent more time with each other than we did with others. It's natural. That's what happens in new relationships. It's over a year later and relationships evolve. We were lucky enough that our relationship was experiencing a positive evolution. In my mind, there was room to evolve while retaining elements of what got you to your current situation. Apparently we disagreed. I was fine with a difference of opinion, but I didn't subscribe to someone trying to impose their opinion on me. There was nothing wrong with agreeing to disagree. I was working on too many projects to be able to spend time coaxing Jade out of her feelings. I had a multimillion-dollar commercial real estate project in the works and that's where I needed to direct my focus.

After my meeting with the project manager earlier in the week, I determined that I would have to spend a lot more time in Atlanta. Yet another issue I wanted to discuss with Jade. The more business enterprises I embarked upon in the area meant the more I had to stay on top of them. I had a house and car at my disposal and Atlanta did feel like a second home. Admittedly, whenever I was in town most of my time was spent on work. I didn't go out much. I was usually at home.

I didn't have any meetings this morning, and I was sitting on the sofa in the living room with my feet on the coffee table. Blonde hardwood floors glistened in the morning sunlight. When I bought the house, I had a decorator come in and furnish the place from top to bottom. All sorts of designer knickknacks, artwork, and furniture that would have never been on my radar were splashed throughout the house. The area rug alone cost upward of $15,000. My house in Atlanta was more than comfortable, yet I had no social ties. That would be an area I had to work on improving.

Genesis would be opening soon and I would do my best to support
the effort whether I was in New York or Atlanta. However, this was Jade's baby and she had to spearhead its success. She was aware of my business dealings and that Genesis was only one of many. I'd make sure she had the best resources and team in place to help run the business. I never intended or would have been able to give Genesis my attention on a daily basis. Neither could Jade for that matter. She still had an obligation to Rituals. She wanted this business and I could afford to make it happen. The rest was up to her. We were partners, but I needed her to
own
the project. If I could offer my guidance, I would. If there were capital requirements, I'd meet them. We had something special in the works and I had every confidence in her ability. I smiled in spite of myself. Even though she was upset with me, the thought of her made me smile.

I reached for my tablet and perused my growing list of items that needed to be taken care of for the barbecue. Instead of a start of summer bash, it would be an end of summer blowout. Traditionally, the event was something I looked forward to hosting. Year after year, friends, family, and even some business associates descended upon my house in Old Westbury for good food, good music, good company, and good times. I thought about what my man Davis said and realized he had struck a nerve. My lifestyle had changed some. The annual barbecue was a big part of who I was and what I enjoyed doing. Riley sort of reminded me of my conversation with him when she said I should live a little. She was referring to my time while in Atlanta, but it certainly applied to my life in New York, as well. It was rare for me to allow myself many indulgences. I worked hard and the barbecue was one of a few manifestations of the recreation I justly deserved.

I added one more thing to the list. What would an end of summer blowout be if we didn't have any fireworks?

T
he ringing of a phone lured me from a state of semi-unconsciousness. I rolled over and stared at my cell on the coffee table. It was off. It took a moment for me to process that it was my house phone ringing in the kitchen. It stopped briefly and then immediately resumed. I sat up on the couch, my skirt twisted around my waist. My head was pounding. I clutched my scalp as if holding on to the source of pain would calm it. No such luck.

I pushed myself up off the couch and wandered slowly into the kitchen to grab the nagging telephone. “Hey,” I croaked.

“Don't you sound lovely?”

“What's up, Bria?”

“I have your car, Ms. Tipsy.”

“Oh yeah.”

“When you get yourself together, take a cab to Rituals. We can have lunch together.”

“All right, let me get showered and I'll be there. I'm giving you advance notice that I'm not in the mood for another lecture.”

“I'll see you when you get here.”

Bria hung up before I had a chance to respond. I carried the cordless back into the living room and curled up on the couch. I dialed Cain's number. It went straight to voicemail. I waited a few minutes and dialed again—voicemail. Knowing Cain, he was probably in a meeting with his phone turned off. I would call later
rather than leave a message. It was probably for the best that he didn't answer. Having a serious conversation with a splitting headache was not what I had planned for the day.

I tried to will myself to go get a couple of aspirin. My body didn't move. The trip from the living room upstairs to my bathroom seemed like a journey I wasn't ready to take. Had I thought happy hour would result in my having a horrible headache the next day, I would have skipped the drinks. It was then I realized that I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast yesterday morning. I was drinking on an empty stomach. It was no wonder the drinks made me tipsy so quickly. They were certainly potent, but there was nothing to absorb the alcohol. I wasn't a novice at drinking, maybe a lightweight at times, but making sure to eat first was Drinking 101.

I thought about Ernest having to call Bria to get me. That was a little embarrassing. He obviously thought I was in no state to take care of myself. It wouldn't have been the smartest thing to drive, but did he really think I couldn't handle Omar? And what type of person did he think Omar was if he didn't trust him with me? I've never seen him be anything other than a gentleman. Or, maybe he didn't trust me with Omar. Perhaps he thought Omar was the one in danger from me. Ernest may have been trying to save his friend from a drunken attack from a wayward woman. I laughed weakly at the thought.

I really did appreciate that Ernest thought enough to look out for me. Although I wasn't concerned that anything inappropriate could have happened as a result of Omar taking me home. I stood by exactly what I told Bria; Omar was harmless and, more importantly, we were just friends. I didn't have a doubt that I was in good hands when we were together.

T
he dining room was filled halfway to capacity when I entered Eden2. It wasn't bad for an early evening right after work. I walked straight through the restaurant and into the kitchen. Riley looked up from her workstation and a smile slowly crept upon her face. I greeted everyone before stopping in front of her.

“I was hoping you were going to come in today,” she said, glancing up from the avocado she was slicing.

“Why is that?” I asked, attempting to keep my tone neutral.

“Because,” she wiped her hands on a towel, “I met with Zaire today.”

I thought for a moment. “He's one of our suppliers, right?”

“Right. We get all of our beef from him.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Not at all. He's having a charity event Saturday night and invited all of his clients. It's a fancy affair downtown and he wanted both of us to attend.”

“I don't know. I have an early morning flight on Sunday—”

“He insisted and won't take no for an answer. Apparently, his family founded the charity ten years ago. They come from old money and have a lot of influence in the community. There's going to be press and a lot of the big restaurants in Atlanta will be present. He wants to list Eden2 as one of the sponsors.”

“That means he wants Eden2 to contribute to the charity.”

“He didn't mention that, but he left an invitation and asked for an RSVP by tomorrow.”

“Talk about last minute.”

“I could attend, but I told him I didn't know your availability.”

I was available, but it seemed as if my attendance was going to cost me money. I didn't know anything about Zaire on a personal level or his old money family's charity. I headed to my office with the invitation in hand to do my own research.

I looked up the charity and the previous year's event. The charity was actually doing great work in Atlanta with feeding the homeless and providing food to soup kitchens. Apparently, Zaire's family owned acres of farms and a few meat packing plants. The event last year received a fair amount of local coverage and some of the restaurants were featured in the stories for partnering with Zaire to provide soup kitchens with meals. Partnering with the charity could be a good opportunity for additional exposure for Eden2.