“Have enough courage to trust love one more time, and always one more time.”
– Maya Angelou

Vanessa Monroe

Friday, July 14
8:30AM

Rain pelts against the large office window. It’s been like this since yesterday. I wonder if it’ll ever let up. There’s something about rain that makes me think of renewal. Especially when sun rays pierce through the clouds. The rain that’s coming down today, however, doesn’t bring on that refreshing feeling. The sky is too dark and dreary. The towering buildings surrounding my office are gray and bleak.

I survey the overflowing sidewalk below. Everyone’s in a hurry. Umbrellas smack into each other, a few of them collapsing under the weight of the downpour. Some brave souls make a run for it with newspapers covering their heads. It seems pointless, really, since they’re already soaked. It’s sad and somewhat depressing.

I’ve been feeling like this for a few days now. Maybe the weather has nothing to do with my mood. It very well could be him. He’s been on my mind all week.

Sighing, I shut my eyes tight. This has absolutely nothing do with how I left things. Ugh! Who am I kidding? It has everything to do with it. I did something. Well, actually, I didn’t do something. It’s a minor snafu, but it could leave the wrong impression.

A mistake was made, but this time, it’s on me, not him. Hopefully, he’ll understand.

 

 

Saturday, July 1

The salon is crowded with women and children. The scent of shampoo, incense, and burning hair permeate the air. Erykah Badu’s,“Tyrone” is blaring in the background.

Of all days to get my hair done, I choose to come on a Saturday. Unfortunately, this is the only day Alicia has free. Even though we talked two days ago, I haven’t seen her in over a week.

“Remind me again why we’re here?” she shouts over the music.

I glare at her reflection in the mirror, trying not to turn my head. “Because this is the only day I could have you to myself.”

“Yeah, but why aren’t we somewhere fancy, sippin’ mimosas?” She’s still too loud.

I grit my teeth. “Alicia, we agreed to get our hair done together and this was our only option. This was your idea.”

The frown disappears from her round, brown face as she recalls our plans. “Oh, right.”

I catch a glimpse of our regular hair stylists smiling at us in the mirror. We’ve been coming here for years. Normally, we go during the week, but our schedules got in the way. We’ve been at the salon for three hours getting our hair braided. We knew what we were in for, but we were hoping for a kid-free zone.

Shannon’s nimble fingers move quickly as she parts my hair, adds extensions, then braids the hair down my back. I opted for box-braids to give my hair a break. This is usually my go-to hairstyle during the summer. It’s low maintenance, so it’s one less thing for me to worry about.

Alicia’s dark hair is thick and long, like mine. She’s getting goddess locs, hoping she’ll look trendy while transporting my nieces and nephews to their summer activities.

“Honestly, I’m glad we came,” she admits. “I wanted to check on you to see how you’re doing since things went south with ole boy.”

My pulse races. Alicia doesn’t know that Kento came to my job after she and I talked a couple of days ago, which means she has no idea I’m going to see him again. This conversation’s going to be interesting.

“Yeah, about that.” I squirm in my chair. “I’ve been meaning to tell you what happened.”

Alicia’s eyebrows draw together while she stares at me in the adjoining mirror.

I glance down at my hands and clear my throat. “After you and I got off the phone, he came by the museum.”

“What?!” Her eyes widen as she turns her head toward me. Deja kindly turns Alicia’s head around so she can continue locking her hair.

I can still feel my sister’s glare burning a hole in the side of my face.

“I went out to see how busy we were. I was on my way to the veranda, when I saw him. I tried to hide, but I practically mowed down some elderly woman. He caught up to me before I could get away.”

“Good lord, Nessa! Give me the abridged version,” she demands. “I know we’re gonna be here awhile, but I don’t wanna drag this juicy gossip outta you.”

I roll my eyes before recapping Kento’s surprise visit to my job. Alicia listens intently, without interruption, saving her tongue lashing for the end of the story. I stop short of telling her about the kiss that left me reeling. The way his arms felt wrapped around me; how he took control, holding me like I belonged to him…

“Go on,” she presses, pulling me from my reverie. “You’re leaving something out. What did you do?”

There’s no hiding anything from Alicia. She knows me all too well. “I kissed him.”

Apparently, Alicia isn’t the only one anticipating my answer. The shocked look on Shannon and Deja’s faces confirms they were all waiting on bated breath. Deja stops what she’s doing while Shannon continues braiding my hair, looking as though my life is the best soap opera ever.

“Oh, Vanessa, you didn’t,” replies Alicia.

“How was it?” Shannon asks bluntly. All eyes train on her. “What?! I’ve been so busy here that I haven’t had time for a date, let alone kiss anybody. I have to live vicariously through my clients.”

“It was sensual,” I explain, regaining everyone’s attention. “He was very generous. It makes me wonder what else he can do.”

The left side of my face heats up from my sister’s impenetrable stare. I’m afraid to look in her direction.

“Not that I’m not proud of you for getting some tongue action,” she sighs. “I’m just trying to figure out how we went from going out with an insensitive prick to kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. Vanessa, you’re not a desperate woman. Why act like it?”

Alicia’s words sting. I appreciate my sister’s honesty, but it still hurts. Truthfully, I did wonder if I behaved rashly. I keep telling myself my actions were based on an attraction that could potentially lead to more than just sex. But after hearing Alicia’s words, I wonder if they were purely based on lust. Did I give any consideration into how this made me look or what kind of person he is?

“Nessa, don’t get me wrong,” she says tenderly. “I’m sure Kento’s a nice guy. I’m just not sure he’s the one for you. You’ve been through too much to end up at square one again.”

“Give me some credit. I wouldn’t end up at square one. I’d just end up two boyfriends back,” I joke.

My smile fades when I see the care in my sister’s eyes. She’s serious. She’s seen where I started, as well as what I had to go through to get my self-esteem in check after the first heartbreak. Then I moved onto another guy who broke my heart, too. After scraping up the pieces, I did what I could to mend it. I exercised and kept busy with work, family, and friends.

Then I met Brandon Marsh, my ex-fiancé. He was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He initially made time for me, then his work took my place. Turns out, he was cheating on me with his co-worker.

Now, there’s Kento. We’ve only gone out on one date, but it’s clear he has issues. He said his family doesn’t want him dating black women. I’m sure it’s true, but I don’t think he dates black women because he probably believes the nonsense his parents fed him. He ruined the date, then came to my job to apologize. Something about his words and sincerity made me want to give him another chance. It’s not like I’ve invested a lot of time in him.

“I know you’re concerned for me, and I appreciate it,” I say, “but this one feels different. I don’t know, I can’t explain it. Besides, it was only one date.”

“There you go again, calling that monstrosity a date,” she murmurs. “You’re way too forgiving.”

“Well, I’m going to see him again next Saturday. If he fails to redeem himself, then I’ll call and tell you that you were right all along.”

“Nessa, that’s just it, I don’t wanna be right.” She peeks over at me. “I truly hope he proves me wrong.”

 

 

There’s a knock at the door. It opens before I have a chance to give permission to the person standing on the other side.

“Sorry to barge in.” Mark, my colleague, rushes into the office. “I just wanted to see if you were ready. We have to be at the Jenkins Studio in an hour. Traffic is horrendous.”

He runs his manicured hands through his short, chestnut brown hair while he waits for my response. I’ve been immersed in our project since the wee hours of the morning. I was hoping to be done by now, but I can’t seem to focus.

I feel Mark’s stare. I glance up in time to find his piercing gray eyes fixed on me. He runs a hand along his neatly trimmed beard, while his foot taps the floor.

I finish up the portfolio I’ve been working on since yesterday. The rain hasn’t let up. We need to leave as soon as possible for this presentation. It’s extremely important it goes well because we need this grant.

I grab my things and follow Mark down the corridor. If Kento were here, he’d walk alongside me. He’d be close enough to let me know he’s there, but he wouldn’t hover. He’d assure me that everything’s going to be alright.

My steps are brisk in order to keep up with Mark’s long strides. His clean cut appearance and expensive suit reminds me of Tabitha. She understands what I’m doing. After what happened the last time, I’m allowed one mistake. To be honest, it really isn’t that big of a deal. I just don’t like leaving things the way I did.

 

 

Monday, July 3

I hear her before I see her, which is unusual. She’s probably flirting with the security guard. I don’t know why she does that. She knows he has a thing for her, and she has no intentions on giving him the time of day. And for good reason – he’s married.

I round the corner to see the five foot nine beauty standing next to an unknown Latino man. He’s definitely taken with her. His dark eyes drink her up from head to toe.

Tabitha wraps her finger with her necklace before letting the silver strand fall against her fire engine red dress. His eyes follow her hands as they rest on her slender hips. He smiles down at Tabitha as the tips of his fingers graze her forearm.

Before he takes her hand, Tabitha reaches up to tuck her long, blonde bangs behind her ear. I shake my head and chuckle when she bats her ocean blue eyes at this man who doesn’t stand a chance.

When she spots me coming toward her, she excuses herself from Mr. Thirsty Eyes and sashays in my direction. Like clockwork, Mr. Thirsty’s gaze follows her.

“Wow! You look amazing.” She embraces me.

“Thanks,” I say as my eyes grow wide. “You actually think I look amazing? You usually give me a hard time about what I’m wearing.”

She giggles, gesturing at my orange-yellow-black mosaic print dress. “You’re gorgeous. You can do no wrong, but sometimes you play it safe. So when I see you taking risks, I have to congratulate you.”

Tabitha owns a fashion boutique in the trendy part of town. Having a friend in the fashion industry comes with perks. However, when fashion is her first, middle, and last name, you can expect unsolicited advice, even if you’re satisfied with your clothing choices.

“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” she says. “We haven’t really talked since the shit hit the fan with Kento. I want to make sure we’re good.”

We’ve seen each other on our daily morning runs since that night. Although, we haven’t really exchanged words with each other. I needed space, and she respected that. Considering what happened, I’m sure she’s wondering how this will affect our friendship.

Smiling, I playfully smack her arm. “Of course, we’re good.”

We’ve been friends since freshman year in college. I first met Tabitha in our ceramics class. I didn’t really care much for her. I thought she was arrogant and didn’t have a filter.

It wasn’t until our professor assigned us a group project that I got to know her better. What I thought was arrogance was actually confidence. She was sure of herself and knew her worth, which was unusual for an eighteen year old. Her lack of a filter, however, was just that.

Though her personality turns off some women, I know deep down that Tabitha is fiercely loyal. She’s a woman’s woman.

“You sure?” she asks as we stand out of the way of several patrons. “I feel like I made things worse for you. I haven’t spoken with Kento since that night. If you want, I can cut all ties with him.”

That’s Tabitha – ride or die. In spite of her loyalty, I can tell she really doesn’t want to end her friendship with Kento. Even though she would if I asked. However, that’s not something I’d do to her. I know there’s something good about Kento if Tabitha carved out a place for him in her life.

“That’s not necessary.” I watch as relief spreads across her face. “I have a confession. He stopped by the museum the day after to apologize.”

Her eyes pop out as her jaw drops. Tabitha isn’t great at hiding her emotions around me. She wasn’t lying when she said she hadn’t heard from Kento.

“Yeah,” I nod, leaning against a cement column. “At first, I wasn’t feeling it, but I didn’t want to cause a scene in the middle of the museum, so we talked in my office.”

As I relay the rest of the details, Tabitha’s sun-kissed face goes from a look of shock, to intrigue, then back to shock again. After what feels like forever, a wide grin appears on her face.

“Don’t get too happy,” I warn as I put up a hand. “He told me about the day he first saw me. The conversation he had with you about setting us up.”

Just like that, her smile fades. “I’m sorry, Vanessa. I was trying to help out two friends. I really do think you and Kento are right for each other. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. But I should’ve just stayed out of it.”

“I appreciate what you tried to do, but you left some things out when you explained this blind date to me.” My voice is low, but serious. “You made me think this was something you conjured up on your own when, in fact, Kento was the one who initiated everything. You lied by omission. That can’t happen again. You’re like a sister to me. We’ve been rocking this life together for over ten years. You’re the Laverne to my Shirley. The Thelma to my Louise.”

“You’re right.” Her shoulders slump. “I should’ve been up front with you; but on the bright side, I’m glad you’re giving him another chance. Even though he screwed up royally, Kento’s a pretty decent guy. Hopefully, he’ll show you that side of him.”

“After talking to my sister over the weekend, I’m not sure I made the right decision.”

Our lowered voices bounce off the wall and fill the hallway. We pass by a row of African masks before we turn the corner. The outdoor light pours in through the windows of the tall doors. A young, blond-haired man holds the door open for us as we walk out onto the veranda.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Tabitha stops, putting a hand gently on my arm. “Tell me you’re not having second thoughts? Wow, you and Kento are something else.”

“I told Alicia what happened. She doesn’t care much for Kento,” I sigh. “Also, I’ve been thinking of my bad luck with men. I always try to give guys a chance, but I always end up getting hurt. Maybe Kento really isn’t any different.”

“I understand why Alicia’s concerned,” she begins, “but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. He fessed up and apologized. He knows he needs to make this right. Since you’ve agreed to see him again, he’s going to do everything he can to make sure you know his true intentions.”

Tabitha has known Kento for a few years. She’s more familiar with him, but that doesn’t mean anything. She didn’t know his parents have issues with black people or that he’d only dated white women. I trust Tabitha, but she only knows what he’s shown her.

 

 

Traffic is at a standstill. Mark checks his watch for the eighth time in five minutes. Our meeting isn’t for another thirty minutes, but we were hoping to be at the studio by now.

“Malik, I thought we were taking the faster route,” Mark snaps at our driver.

He doesn’t hide his anxiety very well. I try not to let his emotions affect me. Mark’s inability to remain unphased makes me think of Kento, who has no trouble staying calm. If he were here, I wouldn’t worry about what lies ahead of me.

“Sir, if I take that route, I’ll get a ticket,” points out the dark-haired, olive-skinned man with the Middle Eastern accent.

“I’ll pay for the ticket,” Mark states.

Malik rolls his eyes at the same time I raise my eyebrows. I have a feeling that Mark’s privilege wouldn’t extend to Malik. Everyone in this car knows this except Mark.

I stare through the back passenger side window at the nameless faces sitting in the nearby vehicles. Everyone has somewhere special to go. Some place where someone is waiting for them. I wonder if Kento is waiting for me.

 

 

Monday, July 3

I spend some time with Tabitha, showing her the latest exhibit. She updates me on her upcoming travels. She’s going to India to pick up some authentic pieces for her boutique. She can have them shipped, but she prefers to lay her eyes on them to make sure the quality is up to snuff. I think she just wants an excuse to travel.

On our way to the lobby, the front desk clerk, Maria, waves to get my attention. The heavy-set, fair-skinned Latina beams as I approach her.

“Ms. Vanessa, these came for you,” she smiles, handing me a tall vase of burgundy roses.

I inhale the sweet fragrance of my favorite flower. I wonder who could’ve sent them. Sometimes I receive flowers or cards from donors and artists, but it’s rare. I pull the tiny card out of the envelope.

Tabitha looks over my shoulder, trying to read the card. “Who are they from?”

“Kento,” my jaw drops. I turn the card over several times between my fingers. “Did you tell him these are my favorite?”

Tabitha shakes her head and shrugs. “I never mentioned it. Are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

Shaking my head, I answer, “I was too pissed off.”

“Well, I didn’t tell him,” she assures me. “Regardless of how he knows, he did his homework.”

“He sure did.” I close my eyes, once again, taking in the sweet aroma.

“Okay, well, this is my cue to go,” Tabitha giggles. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

After Tabitha leaves, I stroll into my office. The huge bouquet leaves a perfumy trail. I wonder how he knows I love burgundy roses. I clear some space on my desk, then set down the vase.

I need to thank him, but after everything that’s been on my mind, I’m not sure I’m ready to make the call. I agreed to see him again, but I’m so torn. My sister’s worried I’ll get hurt. Tabitha thinks I should go for it. Neither of them knows the real Kento; and just when I think I have a handle on him, he goes and surprises me.

“Hey, Vanessa,” Jordyn Lewis, my co-worker and friend, chimes as she raps her knuckles on the office door.

“Oh, hey, Jordyn.” I take my eyes off Kento’s gift.

“Those are gorgeous.” She swipes her curly bangs out of her face as she walks in for a closer look. “Are they from a secret admirer?”

I focus my attention on the flowers, wondering how I should answer her. I don’t know what Kento is to me at the moment. Talking about him to anyone outside of Alicia and Tabitha gives him space in my life. I’m not sure I want to do that.

Suddenly Jordyn waves her hand in front of my face. “Is everything okay? You seem distracted, lately. Does this have anything to do with that hot Asian guy I saw leaving your office last Thursday?”

So much for not giving him space. I didn’t know someone had seen Kento. My cheeks grow warm remembering what we did in this office last week. To find out that someone saw him has me on edge.

“Relax. I didn’t see much, but I could tell it was more than just a business meeting.”

Jordyn saw more than I would’ve liked. “Did anyone else see him?”

“I don’t think so,” she replies. “Something’s clearly on your mind. Do wanna grab lunch? Get some fresh air?”

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s just before noon. “Sure.”

I sling my purse over my shoulder on our way out. I step into the sunlight and I feel less claustrophobic. We walk over to a moderately busy bistro across the street and get a table for two in a short amount of time.

We make small talk while we’re feeding our stomachs. After the plates have been cleared and all that’s left are glasses of water, Jordyn gets serious.

“Alright, Vanessa.” She leans back, crossing her short legs. “I’ve let you tap dance long enough. Now, what’s going on?”

I’ve known Jordyn since I first started working at the museum several years ago. We’ve developed a great friendship in and outside of work. She’s mature beyond her thirty years, so I feel comfortable sharing what transpired last week. She interrupts only when she needs clarification, but her face doesn’t reveal what she’s thinking.

“You did the right thing by giving him a second chance,” she says. “I don’t know if I’d be able to do that, but that’s just me.”

I smirk at her. I wish she’d left that last part out.

“My comment is based on my personal experience,” she clarifies. “I don’t think you’re making a mistake with him. You never know, he might surprise you.”

Sighing, I close my eyes. The last thing I need is more surprises.

“He might,” she declares. “Where’s he taking you?”

“I have no idea.” I take a sip of water. “I hope it’s someplace fun. So far, I’ve only seen him buttoned-up. It would be nice to see him more relaxed.”

 

 

Mark and I walk swiftly through the front entrance of the studio. I hope to get through this presentation as fast as possible. I want to get out of here. My mind is elsewhere, and I don’t like working this way. It’s not that I’ve never done it. It’s just that I’m more preoccupied than I can handle. I can’t stop thinking about Kento.

Who would’ve thought someone I barely know could fill every spot in my mind, crowding out the necessary thoughts? Like the thoughts I need to do my job.

We enter the studio filled with paintings and busts. There are men milling around in business suits. Their attire clashes with the environment. It’s odd not being in a conference room, but we had it arranged this way so they could see what their funds would cover.

I force Kento out of my mind, focusing on my work. It’s important this goes off without a hitch. This could mean my job. Sorry, Kento, but you’ll have to take a back seat.

 

 

To be continued…