Second Thoughts (22 page)

“I bet I know why you’re calling,” Isis answered, as if she had been sitting by the phone waiting for my picture to display across her screen.

“Tell me everything Taylor told you in her session. And I do mean everything,” I ordered.

“You know I’m bound by patient confidentiality.”

“Bitch, please. Since when?”  I walked into the bathroom and began to prepare my bath. “You breached that shit a long time ago. I know as much about your patients as you do. Stop playing with me.”

I sat on the edge of the tub with my back against the glass partition that separated the bathtub from the shower area.  

Isis laughed.

“Is Dillon there?”

“He left for work a few minutes ago,” I said, passing my hand under the spout to check the water’s temperature.

Though it was already a humid Tuesday morning, a warm bath was definitely needed.

“Meet me at Reserves on Chestnut for lunch,” I added and waited for her to respond. She knew I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. 

“See you then,” Isis agreed without hesitating.

After hanging up, I placed the phone on the tiled floor beside the tub. I stood and stared at my reflection in the rectangular-shaped mirror above the bathroom sink.
Something tells me this is going to be a long day,
I thought, shaking my head. Then I noticed Dillon’s sweatpants in the corner behind the door. When I walked over and picked it up, his cell phone fell to the floor. I picked up the phone and touched the screen. I was surprised it wasn’t password protected.

I stared at the screen before pressing the messages icon. His last message was to T.D.―that was it, just the initials―at 6:45.

Me: Good morning, beautiful. Yesterday was amazing.

T.D.: Wouldn’t have been so without you, baby. Can’t wait till next time.

Me:
Next time can’t come soon enough.

I’d seen and read enough. I tapped on the message.
Why would Taylor have a phone number that my husband knows and not her own sister
, I thought, and then pressed the call option.

“He wouldn’t be that obvious,” I said after the first ring. “T.D. couldn’t possibly be Taylor Duncan.”

“Are you calling to say you miss me already, or because you forgot to say you love me?”

I removed the phone from my ear and looked fixedly at the screen before ending the call.

Chapter
25

Taylor

Three’s a Crowd

Have you skipped stupid and gone straight to crazy?
I thought.
What the hell are you doing here?
I
walked through the sliding glass doors and into the foyer of the Radisson Plaza-Warwick Hotel on South 17th Street. I’d been there on other occasions at Dillon’s request, and though it was wrong on so many levels, those visits found me waiting for his arrival in one of the king suites. I never asked him what he was telling Vanessa on those weekend nights he spent with his head between my breasts and his legs between my thighs. He would explore my body in the darkness and quiet of the night and then smiled that perfect smile when morning broke
,
even though he had, a
gain, broken all promises he
made to Vanessa. Honestly, I didn’t care. Though when morning came
,
or when the weekend was over
,
he was leaving me to be with the woman he married, I was content knowing I had just slept with my head in the arms of the man I loved. He never asked what I was telling DaMarcus or Chad because my explanations or excuses to them never mattered
to him. H
e knew where my heart was. He knew where my heart had always been.

I didn’t think twice when I’d received Dillon’s text message that morning. I had just walked back into my office after a quick conversation with my secretary, Roz-Lynn, over black coffee and cinnamon buns. A few moments before, I’d stood looking through one of the two floor-to-ceiling windows, admiring the view from the 76th floor of Park Towers that had been the backdrop since my relocation. My russet brown skin felt Shea butter smooth and glistened under the fluorescent lights. I wore my dark brown hair with honey highlights sweeping across my face. The short cut tickled my collarbone. I smiled as I admired the bouquet of red roses and purple tulips that were delivered the day before. I’ll admit, before his text message, I had no idea who’d sent the flowers. Now I know it had to have been Dillon, his text message had confirmed it.

Dillon: Meet me for dinner and a nightcap

Me: Where, and what about Nessa?

Dillon: The Radisson on 17th…around 5. You don’t worry about Nessa.

I was tired of playing hard to get, living under the same roof with Dillon and Vanessa. I hated pretending I didn’t want him, acting as if I couldn’t stand being close to him when I knew I wanted him even closer. Over the last week, I’d spent less time at home to avoid any slippage of the tongue with Vanessa. I still spoke to Dillon, but only from work. At home I acted as if I couldn’t stomach the pavement he walked on. Now I get to have him in a place where I’ve had him times before, without interruptions, without Vanessa.

I’d stood behind my desk, looking at the printout of meetings, conference calls, and appointments I had for the day. I didn’t know how I was going to concentrate with my secret rendezvous with the love of my life just hours away. I sat back in my chair w
ith images of Dillon and me―mostly Dillon...naked―floating in my head.  The day couldn’t go by fast enough. I’d called the sitter and asked if Quinton could stay the night with her.

After my 11:30 a.m. conference call with Jeremy McIntosh from the D.C. of
fice and Naomi Grant from two floors down, I received a call from Nessa.

“Are you busy,” she asked.

“I would have been had you called a few minutes ago,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “What’s going on Nessa?”

“I was hoping you could tell me that.” 

I got up from the chair and stood looking out the window. I used the silence between my sister and me to craft a response.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, turning back to face my desk.

“You haven’t said anything about your session with Dr. Reeves,” she said, sounding agitated. “I haven’t seen you much since Thursday. Are you okay? You’re not avoiding me, are you?”

“Slow down with the twenty questions. First of all, I’m fine. Second, what reasons do I have for avoiding you?” I paused and acknowledged Roz-Lynn who had appeared in my office door. I pointed at my watch and mouthed for her to come back later before I continued. “And why would I tell you anything Dr. Reeves and I discussed? I thought Isis would have given you the 4-1-1 by now.”

“Why would she do that, Taylor?”

“Maybe you could tell me that,” I repeated sarcastically.

“You know I’m here if you want to talk. Why don’t you meet me for dinner after work?”

I thought about Dillon’s text message from earlier that morning, and then politely declined. “I already have plans,” I said.

I waited for Nessa to press for more details, but all I got was a long pause.

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Have a good day, Vanessa,” I replied and then quickly hung up.

I’d left work at exactly 4:30 and now stood in the grand lobby of the Radisson surrounded by hues of gold and yellow. A magnificent Phantom of the Opera-like chandelier of gold and crystals hung above. I walked to the middle of the three check-in counters.

“What are you doing here, Taylor?” I asked aloud.

“Excuse me?”

I didn’t repeat.

“Dillon Aldridge,” I announced. “Has he...?”

Before I could finish my question, my cell phone indicated a new message: Suite 1248.
Perfect timing,
I thought. I thanked the front desk assistant then turned and headed towards the elevator.

In the elevator, I smiled from ear to ear, thinking about the evening and what Dillon had planned for me. He never disappoints. I exited the elevator and turned right towards the room. When I got to the door, it was slightly ajar. I pushed the door and smiled when I saw him standing across the room, looking out the window.

“So, what are you going to do with me, now that you’ve got me here?” I asked, closing the door.

I walked towards him, removing my suit jacket and then stood behind him wearing a white sleeveless cowl neck blouse, white pencil skirt, and rouge pointed-toe metal-heel pumps. I tossed my purse on the couch and slung my jacket over the back. I posed with my hands on my waist and waited for him to turn around.

“Taylor,” he said, looking perplexed, “what are we doing here?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, smiling. “I got a message from you telling me to meet you here.” I folded my arms across my chest. “You specifically said to meet you here, Dillon. I asked you what about Nessa, and you said not to worry about her. Now, if you’re still playing games to see if I still have feelings for you, you won. I showed up,” I said, reaching for my purse and jacket. 

“I didn’t send you a message, Taylor. Why would I do something like that?” 

“If you didn’t, then who?” 

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Dillon said. “I got a phone call from you telling me that you needed to see me, and that if I didn’t show up, you would know exactly how I felt.”

“But your message said to meet you here.” I removed my cell phone from my purse. “What do you mean you got a phone call from me? I didn’t call you.”

“I didn’t send you a message, Taylor,” Dillon emphasized.

“Then who…?”

“He’s actually capable of telling the truth.”

His voice came from the bedroom. I looked up and saw DaMarcus standing in the doorway. “I am curious though,” he said. He walked towards me but kept his eyes on Dillon. “How are you going to explain to Nessa that you got a message from her husband asking you to meet him at a hotel room and you actually showed up?”

“I don’t owe Vanessa any explanation,” I said, and turned to leave.

“Oh, but you do,” Vanessa said.

She stood at the entrance to the suite with the door open. She kept her hand on the doorknob for a moment.

“Think fast, Taylor, but this shit better be good. And while she’s thinking,” she said, looking over at Dillon, “you should be halfway through that lie you’re creating in your head.”

“Nessa, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I began, giving Nessa the explanation I didn’t think I had to.

“When have you never meant to hurt someone? You are Taylor DeAngela Duncan, or have you become someone else in the last years?”

“I’m not the same Taylor you knew,” I started to explain.

“Bullshit.” Vanessa stood with her face inches from mine. “You know, for a minute I actually doubted you would do something like this, at least not to me. And you,” she turned to Dillon, “you could have been a little more discreet. I mean, saving her number as T.D. was a little obvious.”

“Huh,” Dillon stood with a dumb expression on his face.

“Here,” Vanessa said, tossing the cell phone towards Dillon’s chest. “The phone you searched frantically for this morning, you left it in the bathroom behind the door, wrapped up in your sweats. That’s where you left if after your message to Taylor about how amazing yesterday was.”

“What is she talking about, Dillon?” I looked at him from the corners of my eyes. “Nessa, I wasn’t with him yesterday.”

“So, Dillon was thanking you for an amazing day that never happened. You can stop with the lies now. I saw Dillon’s messages to you this morning. I sent you the message from his phone about coming here this evening. I was hoping you didn’t, but you actually had the balls to show up.”

“Vanessa,” Dillon called out.

“What?” she answered furiously.

“I need to tell you something,” he pleaded. 

“You don’t get to explain anything, Dillon,” she quickly shut him down. 

“Vanessa, I wasn’t with Dillon last night, and it wasn’t me he, or you, texted this morning,” I attempted to clarify.

“And I’m supposed to believe you because…”

“Because you don’t have a choice,” I shouted.

“Have you ever tried sleeping with a broken heart, Taylor? Well that’s what I’ve done since it was confirmed my own sister was fucking my husband.” She kept her focus on Dillon. “And that morning in the kitchen when I asked you what can’t happen again, you lied, telling me you were talking about mommy and her dying in your arms. You think I don’t know bullshit. I’m a doctor, and I’m married to a man. I’m more than familiar with bullshit.”

“Are you done?” I asked. 

She had been standing in the same place since she stepped into the room.

“Not even close. I’m just getting started. I guess when I asked you to move back here after that debacle with DaMarcus, you thought this was your chance to come back to the arms of the one who loved you,” Nessa said, continuing her accusations.

“Even if I were, I didn’t ask you to put me up. But you had your own agenda. If I were going to be in Philly, close to your husband, why not have me where you could keep an eye on me. The only person you needed to watch had his head on the pillow next to yours.”