Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Mmm hmmm,” Danielle said in disbelief, followed by a husky laugh. “Okay, girl. I got you.”
“Thanks, baby! See you later.”
“Bet. You owe me a drink, heffa.” The call ended.
Nadia turned up her radio which was playing a local commercial about a gas station’s fountain drinks. Some two for one special.
About twenty minutes passed and she pulled into her parking lot, with Lennox right behind her. She parked and he drove past, looking for a visitor space. Once she was at her door with her key, he was walking towards her, a few boxes in his arms, his steps easy and slow. She opened the door and stood there until he caught up. Moments later, they were both inside, and she turned on the lights in her living room and hallway area. She stood by as he brought all the boxes in, setting them exactly where she wanted.
“Thanks so much for all of your help. You’re a lifesaver. Are you thirsty?” she asked as she made her way into the kitchen, flipped the light, then washed her hands.
“I could use somethin’. What do you have?”
“Everything,” her nerves tensed when she noticed him toying with his necklace, the pendant a dark, shiny tooth. He was rubbing the chain between his thumb and forefinger, and biting his lower lip. Damn. “Um, I’ve got iced tea, water, beer, some Pinot Noir, uh… water, of course. Apple juice, too.”
“I’ll have some iced tea. I drank a little too much the other day, so I am laying off until the weekend.” She nodded in understanding, grabbed a can of Lipton Brisk iced tea, and cracked it open. As she opened a cupboard to pour the beverage in a glass, she heard him approach and the faucet turn on. She removed the cup, closed the cabinet and stood there as he washed his hands.
“I need to ask you something, Len.”
“Yeah? What is it.” He pumped soap into his palms.
“How’d you know I don’t like storms? You said it on the card with the flowers.”
“Because some records are public.”
She swallowed, walked around him, and reached for the bottle of wine.
“So, you checked up on me?” She grabbed a wine glass from a cabinet.
“The same way you’d checked up on me. Looking on social media websites. Askin’ some of our mutual associates about me. Yeah. I saw the public record.” He dried his hands, took the glass from the counter she’d poured him, and sat down at the small kitchenette table.
“The details aren’t public.”
“The initial charge was. I paid for them to be public. To me.” He said those words without flinching. Without a care in the world.
“When?”
“Recently.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to know why you disappeared from me, Nadia, all of those years ago, and I knew what you were tellin’ me was only half the story when I was over here the first time. I know when you’re telling the truth and when you’re lying. I always have.”
“How?”
“Because you rarely lie to me. It’s not in your nature to make up shit, or omit important parts. Therefore, you usually resort to just tellin’ half the truth when you have something to hide. That way, you aren’t directly lying, but definitely skipping key details. The times you have lied to me, it was when somethin’ was too unbearable to share. You’d eventually come clean, but it would take you a while. We were friends. Close friends. Good friends. Regardless of you havin’ a crush on me, which apparently I was too stupid at the time to notice, I know you would have stayed in touch. Nope. It had to have been something else. You pulled away, and it always bothered me, but like I told you, I don’t chase women who don’t want to be bothered.”
“I wasn’t lying though when I told you I was afraid it would ruin our friendship, and you’d be a distraction.”
“I know. Your answer about being distracted and all of that I don’t think was a lie, but it wasn’t the full story. Your book is missing important chapters, Nadia, and I want to read the ones you snatched out.”
They sat there, across from one another, drinking. She blinked tears away.
“I’ve had bad luck with relationships, Len.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do. You couldn’t because you’re not a woman. You’re a White man in a White man’s world. You have a courtside advantage. The world sees you as the most powerful, while women like me are seen as low on the totem pole.”
“I’m not rich. My family is. I’m going through shit that doesn’t fit what you think of me.”
“It doesn’t matter. When people look at you, they see power. Privilege. People that look like you make the rules. People like me have to abide by them. Take it or leave it. I’m Black. I come from humble beginnings. My parents eventually split apart. So, I ended up being raised by a single mother. I grew up in a bad neighborhood. I suffered … you knew about that because I told you way back when. Not once though did I feel sorry for myself, and I still don’t, so don’t get it twisted, this is far from a pity party but unfortunately, things didn’t improve for long.”