Читать книгу I Want It Now - Sydney Molare - Страница 13

Have you ever made a mistake and were glad when you realized it was a mistake and happier than hell when the situation ran its course and you got away unscathed? That was my relationship with Michael. Good looking, but that’s as far as the goodness went—eyesight level. Beneath the skin he was Mr. Conniving to the Bone…Marrow.

“Heeeyyyyy! I called your job and they told me you were on vacation.” His braces-straight teeth gleamed in the sunlight, illuminating his angelic-appearing golden face and curly hair, reminding those not yet disillusioned about his true character of a halo. A bouquet of multicolored flowers was encased in his flesh-covered claws.

I pulled my robe closer before folding my arms across my chest. “I am.”

“I see. You’re looking like it’s been a good vacation, too. Girl, you…are…glowing!”

And you have nothing to do with it, buddy. “Thank you. What can I do for you?”

He didn’t even blink at my terse attitude, instead forged ahead. “Well, girl, I haven’t seen you in a minute and I’ve left messages but can’t seem to get a callback, so I thought since I couldn’t catch you at work, I’d take the day off and see if I could catch you at home.” He moved a step closer, held out his arm. “Here. These beautiful flowers are for my beautiful girl.”

Michael was well aware of my one cardinal rule of dating: No dropping by unannounced. No telling what one would find, and I wasn’t into participating in drama. But I guess he’d gotten amnesia, just like he was apparently an amnesiac about us no longer seeing each other.

I held up my hands but avoided taking the flowers. “Michael, we don’t date anymore, remember?”

He flipped his eyes heavenward and dropped his arm before replying, “Girl, I know what we said, but I figured that I’d give you a moment to get your mind together, come to your senses, and so…here I am.”

Did he say get my mind together and come to my senses? Time to set the record straight. I took a really deep breath. “Michael, for the last time—I hope—I will not, am not, planning on seeing you again romantically in this lifetime.”

His lips slowly closed over his smile. Not surprising since he was a person used to getting his way. “Why not?” Petulance.

“Look, Michael, we didn’t work. I’m not your type”—’cause I won’t put up with your bullshit and cheap-assed ways— “and you’re not mine. Simple. So, have a great life and thanks for the flowers, but you keep them.” I moved back and pulled the door closed.

A foot stopped it.

This was not good. The hand that shoved the door open wider was even worse. Michael pulled himself up to his full height, dropped the flowers to the stoop, and said loudly, “What! Woman, I’ve invested time, energy, and money into you and you acting like you too good to give me the damn time of day?” He shook his head. “You tripping.”

I kept my voice neutral, hoping to defuse the situation quickly. “Time for you to go, Michael.” I pushed at the door to close it. He pushed back.

“I’m not going nowhere, girl, until we get this shit straight.” His eyes were hard, serious.

Just as I was going to reply, a voice from behind me said, “Is there a problem, honey?”

I sighed in relief. Dubois. I turned to him. Michael took this opportunity to fling the door wide and step inside. His eyes bounced around as he took in the sight of Dubois—in underwear only—standing just at the foot of the staircase.

“Who the hell is this?” Michael’s eyes vacillated between us.

“I’m Dubois Harrington, Dina’s husband. And you are?”

Déjà vu, just swap Michael’s face for Stacy’s. “Husband? Dina…you…Let me get this straight.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “You got married? Since the last time we dated?”

“Yes,” I deadpanned. It was true.

“Uh-huh. I don’t believe you.” Michael vigorously shook his head, denying everything I’d stated.

“Sir, we don’t care whether you choose to believe it or not. You just need to leave as Dina asked you to numerous times.”

“Dude, I don’t know who your funny-talking ass is, but I need to get my conversation finished with Dina.”

I felt the pecs in Dubois’s chest bunch up. He pulled me to him and gave me a peck on the lips. “Dina, if you would leave me and your friend alone for a moment, I believe we can get this entire thing cleared up.”

This was definitely new territory for me, but my heart said to trust that whatever Dubois did, it would be the right thing. “Okay.” I hugged him before walking up the stairway. This must have incensed Michael even further. “Dina! Dina! We’re not finished talking! Don’t you walk—” Michael’s last words were drowned out by the slamming of the front door. I looked back to see that Dubois was outside with Michael. I’m guessing it was him who slammed the door shut. Since Michael was out-matched by at least five inches and fifty pounds, I figured Dubois didn’t need my help.

The shrill ringing of the phone pulled me toward it. I lifted it wondering, as Bette Davis said in an old movie, “What fresh hell awaits?”

“Hello?”

“Dr. Charles?”

I recognized the voice of my graduate student Terrell. A serious young man, he was well aware I insisted that I never be contacted when I was on vacation unless it was an emergency. I tensed, waiting for the bad news. “Yes. What’s happened?”

“I know you hate to be called when you’re on vacation, but we received a fax from the Orion Group for the Egypt dig. There’s a problem.”

The Orion Group was the funding agency that had committed nearly two hundred thousand dollars for an excavation in Egypt’s newly opened minor pyramid, the Tegreis. “What’s the problem?”

“They’re stating that the downturn in the stock market has severely affected their holdings and they’re scaling back and terminating funding for many projects already committed to.”

Big problem. “Did they say which we were? Scaled back or terminated?”

“They’re asking for us to resubmit a revised budget by tomorrow at three for continued consideration. If we don’t, we’re definitely terminated.”

I glanced up at the clock. “I’ll be there in an hour or so. If you would pull the file and start thinking about areas we can scale back—number of students, equipment needs, time of stay, those types of things—I’d appreciate it.”

“Will do. I’ll have it laid out on your desk when you get here.”

“Good. See you soon.”

I clicked off the phone and turned, deep in thought. I was surprised to see Dubois sitting on a bar stool, a slight smile on his face. I hadn’t heard him come in.

“Michael’s gone?” I asked, suddenly remembering the mini-drama playing out on my front porch.

“Yes. He wasn’t happy, but he now understands that life is…different…now.”

“You sure?” Michael could be quite pigheaded at times.

“Absolutely. He will not bother you again.” He stated this with confidence. “Sounds like you have some work to complete.”

I let out an agonizing breath. “Unfortunately, I do.” I explained what Terrell had told me.

He walked up to me, pulled me into his arms. “And I so wanted to finish what we’d started.”

I looked up at him. “Me too.”

“But it sounds like this is very important, so we’ll just have to shelve our…explorations…until later tonight.” He licked his lips, making me want to say damn the Egypt trip, the Orion Group, and the university—but I couldn’t. My work was very important to me.

“Looks like we have to.”

“Well, why don’t we get dressed? The sooner we attack the problem, the sooner we can find a solution.”

“Agreed.” Unexpectedly, Dubois scooped me up into his chest.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, I just like holding you close to me, sweetheart.”

Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. I started humming Salt ’n Pepa’s “Whatta Man”: What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man!