Cheesecake and Teardrops (16 page)

“Sure, why not?”

“I'll be there in about five minutes,” he told her.

“See you then,” she said simply. Charisma had just enough time to touch up her makeup. She headed for the lounge, hoping to run into Chase. Unfortunately, Chase was nowhere to be found.

Nico was ready and waiting in the front of the building.

He picked her up and whisked her off to a diner down Sunrise Highway famous for their cheeseburgers. After just one bite, Charisma had to agree that they were definitely in her top five.

“Top five?” Nico asked. “These cheeseburgers have got to be in the top two at least.” He wiped his mouth.

“Top two? Why stop there?”

“Because there's only one other place that has these burgers beat.”

“And where might that be?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“What are you doing Friday night?”

“I have a date—with the best burger in New York.”

“Great, I'll see you at my place around seven.”

“I should have seen that coming.” She feigned surprise.

“I'll just have to stay on my toes.”

“You'd look good in a tutu.” He took another sip of his coffee and smiled.

Charisma looked across the table at him and smiled back, not quite sure what she was getting herself into. He seemed like a nice man, but could she go through with her plans?

And was Heather right? Was she merely selling herself to get back at Chase? On one hand, she
was
attracted to Nico.

After all, he was handsome and successful with just the right amount of confidence. What available woman wouldn't want an eligible bachelor vying for her attention? On the other hand, he was still a white man, and that was a line she had never crossed in thirty-four years. She adored brothers too much to have it any other way. So why was she agreeing to dinner at his place knowing full well that she was encouraging him to go a little bit further? To get back at Chase. Simple as that.

 

When Charisma arrived home from work she took a nice, long shower and tossed up a garden salad to go with her broiled steak. Normally, she tried to stay away from red meat, but every now and then she craved a good steak.

She was just sitting down to dinner when her phone rang. It was Tangie.

“What's up, girl?” Charisma asked.

“You're not going to believe this. Blade came by, begging me to take him back. Said his life hasn't been the same without me, and he's finally ready to introduce me to his family.”

“What?”

“It gets better. He pulls out a jewelry box from his pants pocket, drops to one knee, and proposes.”

“Get outta here.” Charisma put her fork down.

“I could've caught a swarm of bees with my mouth. He apologized for every single mistake he ever made, every single one, and you know how good my memory is. Oh well, it was just too much, too little, too late. His run is done. Ya know?”

“I know, girl. I know, but what did the ring look like?”

“Oh, it was beautiful. It was a pear-shaped soli-tare with little stones on the side.”

“I almost forgot to tell you. Nico's cooking for me Friday night.”

“So the plot thickens.”

“Yep. I'll talk to you later. I got another call.” Charisma clicked over. It was Nico.

“Hey, gorgeous. I'm at the market shopping for Friday's dinner and it suddenly occurred to me. Are you allergic to seafood?”

“I love it,” she said.

“Great, that's all I needed to know. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she said simply. What happened to the burgers?

That Nico was slick, inviting her over under false pretenses.

If it hadn't been for her BlackBerry, Charisma would have missed her gynecologist appointment. She was on her way to work when she realized that she had a nine o'clock appointment with Dr. Vale. She called Nate to tell him she'd be late.

Dr. Vale's office was in Elmont, but since she had the first scheduled appointment of the day, she was seen on time.

Dr. Vale was a friendly fortyish woman with warm brown eyes and auburn, shoulder-length hair. She examined Charisma, taking an annual Pap smear and giving her a routine breast exam. After the exam, Charisma got dressed and met with Dr. Vale in her office.

“Charisma, how have your periods been lately?” she asked.

“You know something?” she answered. “They're actually heavier than usual. I thought they were supposed to lighten with age, but lately I'm flowing heavier.”

“What about cramping?” Dr. Vale asked, removing her glasses.

“No more than normal.”

“You're still young, but it's time you start thinking about children if you plan on having them. You're clock is ticking loud and clear.”

“I know, Dr. Vale. I know, but I think I'll wait a little longer.”

“Do you need another prescription for the Pill?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Dr. Vale said as she wrote out the prescription.

“See you in six month.”

“Thanks, Dr. Vale.”

When Charisma finally got to work that morning, there was a beautiful bouquet of fuchsia roses in her office. She assumed they were from Dex. He always sent fuchsia roses.

She opened up the card.
Looking forward to Friday night, Nico.

Nate dropped off some paperwork. “Nice flowers,” he said, admiring the roses. “I bet you have lots of admirers. You must have a hot date.”

“What can I tell you?” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Apparently, you're doing something right.”

“Somebody thinks so.” She grinned.

“Do me a favor. If there's any question in your mind after tonight about who's the better man, give me a call.”

Moments later he was gone and the secretary popped her head in the doorway. “They're beautiful, but Chase and Lacey have been snooping around trying to read the card all morning long.”

“Thanks, Dee,” Charisma said, smiling, the card still in her hand.

Chase fluttered around Charisma like an annoying gnat, searching for clues. Finally, she cornered Charisma in her office.

“Are those from Nico?”

Charisma rolled her eyes. “What do you care? I thought you liked coffee in your milk, at least
this
week anyway.”

“Don't worry about how I like it,” Chase told her.

“Hmph, you better wake up and smell the crappuccino.”

“You gutter girls are so ignorant. It's cappuccino,” Chase gloated. “C-A-P–”

“No, in your case it's
crappuccino '
cause you're full of shit. Now get the hell out of my office.”

 

Friday came sooner than Charisma expected. Once again, Nico sent a dozen roses to Charisma's office. Later that day, Charisma and Nate were engrossed in conversation around the printer. Everyone else had gone to lunch, leaving them both behind.

Nate grabbed her left hand. “What, no engagement ring?”

“No.”

“The way he's been wining and dining you with roses and Lord only knows what else, I thought for sure you'd be off the market by now.” He dropped her hand.

“No,” she repeated.

“I'm sure he's fine with vanilla, but I bet he wouldn't even know how to handle chocolate thunder. Does he do it for you?”

Charisma didn't answer.

“You want a white boy over me?”

“You don't understand.”

“Then make me.” His eyes searched hers. When she didn't answer, he spoke for her. “Yeah, that's what I thought,” he said, walking away.

Charisma locked herself away in her office for the rest of the day. She didn't want to see or hear from her boss. She was too ashamed to admit that she wasn't feeling Nico at all. He was just a pawn in her scheme to get back at Chase.

It was all an act. If Nate found out the truth, he'd probably lose all respect for her as a woman and a human being. That would devastate her.

She worked a full day, came home, showered, and got ready for dinner with Nico. She drove to his condo in Baldwin, dealing with heavy traffic the whole time. She found a parking spot not too far from his building and sat in her car for a few minutes, collecting her thoughts. She looked over her hair and makeup one last time. Satisfied, she got out of her car and walked the block-and-a-half distance to his building. It was a bitter cold night, and by the time she reached his building, she wished she had worn a hat. When he buzzed her inside, the warmth was a welcome relief.

She took the elevator up to the fourth floor. When the elevator door opened, Nico was right there waiting for her.

He ushered her inside, helped her off with his coat, took her into his arms, and planted a nice, warm kiss on her lips.

“It's good to see you, gorgeous,” Nico told her.

“Likewise,” she said, looking around at his black leather and cherrywood living room. “Nice place.”

“Glad you approve.”

“Oh, I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know. I was just joking. Can I get you some wine?” he asked her.

“I'd love some. By the way, the roses were beautiful.”

“My pleasure. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”

He walked over to the bar and poured her a glass of white wine.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “I bet you're some cook.”

“Well, I do all right,” he said modestly.

“I bet you do more than all right,” she said, grinning.

“You can be the judge of that. Let me check on dinner, and I'll be right back.”

“Can I help with anything?” she asked.

“No, just sit back and relax. Everything's under control. I hope you're hungry.”

About twenty minutes later dinner was served—Caesar salad, lobster Alfredo, asparagus, and Italian bread. The aroma alone could have led Charisma to the dining area.

“Oh, this is why you asked if I was allergic to seafood,” she said, twirling her pasta.

“I didn't want to have to make a run to the emergency room.” He laughed.

“It's delicious.” She gazed into his hazel eyes.

“So you work with Chase Martini.”

“I guess somebody has to.” She shook her head.

“I know the feeling. She's been sweating me for years.”

Nico grabbed a piece of Italian bread. “But she has a good heart, Charisma. She really does.”

“Oh, yeah? Maybe one of these days, I'll see it.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“I hope you saved room for dessert—apple pie à la mode.”

“I couldn't eat another bite,” she admitted.

“Maybe later,” he said as they made their way back to the sofa. They both sat and he pulled her legs up onto his lap, removing her shoes and massaging her feet. She eased back onto the sofa, closing her eyes. Nico removed her kneehighs, and she smiled to herself, enjoying his touch on her bare feet. Before she realized it, he had made his way up to her end of the sofa and had begun massaging her neck and shoulders. His technique felt so marvelous that she didn't want him to stop. When their lips met, she didn't stop him.

His tongue darted into her mouth, and his hands slid down to her breasts, milking her nipples through her silk blouse until they stood erect. Finally, he began to unbutton her blouse very slowly, revealing a lacy, black bra underneath.

Though their lips never left each other's, they managed to stand and remove her blouse and his sweatshirt. They stopped kissing just long enough to remove their pants and return to the couch. Charisma stretched out on her back, and Nico slid on top. He reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. He gasped at her beauty. Charisma smiled to herself, enjoying the sensations she felt as he pleasured her breasts with his mouth. Before long his hand slid from her shoulder down to her panties.

His slender finger found its way inside to her swollen lips. She spread her legs ever so slightly, allowing him easier access to her privates.

Slowly, he stood and removed his briefs. Charisma stole a quick glance at his dick before he sat down on the leather sofa. It was all pink and wrinkled. He pulled her up next to him so they sat side by side. Then, he reached for her hand and covered his dick with it. She squeezed him gently and a tiny drop of semen oozed out. All she could think about was raw chicken. She began to gag. Charisma looked at him apologetically. This was not going to work.

“We'll have two martini pops,” Tony told the bartender over the weekend crowd.

“A martini pop? That's a new one,” Tangie said. “What's in it?”

“Vodka, strawberry and banana puree, and a splash of pomegranate juice.”

“Well, I'm game,” she said as the bartender returned with their drinks.

“Cheers,” Tony said simply as he took a sip. He waited for Tangie to do the same. “Whatd'ya think?”

“Mmm, it's good,” she admitted.

“Stick with me and we'll go places,” he told her, smiling.

“I may have to take you up on that,” she said.

“So tell me, Tangela, we've been on what, six, seven dates now and each time I see you, you're wearing a ring on your left ring finger. What's up with that?”

Tangie smiled slightly and took a sip of her martini pop before speaking from the heart. “I wear a ring on my left ring finger as a bandage. Every time I look down on my bare finger, I'm reminded of all the men in my life that I've given myself to who have rejected me. I'm reminded of the takers. So this ring hides my pain from the world. If I were bald, I'd wear a weave. If I wanted green eyes, I'd buy contacts. If I wanted to cover gray, I'd dye my hair. It's a defense mechanism. People do what they have to do to survive.”

Tony was silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

He raised his glass in a toast. “No more scars.”

“From your lips to God's ears.” Tangie changed the subject.

“Where in the world did you ever find lime roses?”

“Did you like them?”

“Like them? I
loved
them. I never even knew lime roses existed. Where'd you find them?” she repeated.

“A special lady deserves special roses. I had them flown in just for you.”

“Oh, you got it like that, huh?” she joked.

“Well, you know I have my connections.”

“I bet you do,” she agreed.

Tony looked around, his eyes fixated on a guy across the room. “Let's get outta here,” he said, draining his glass.

 

A few days later Tony surprised Tangie by meeting her for lunch. It was an instant day-brightener.

“Nice,” she said simply as they ate at the food court. “No work today?”

“I'm always working in one way or another,” Tony replied, looking fresh as new money in a black turtleneck and trousers. “But no more job fairs, thank God. So, you'll never know where I'll show up.”

Tangie sipped a smoothie while Tony enjoyed a brisket of beef on rye. She was too excited to eat even though she did her best to appear laid-back about their lunch date. Inside, though, she was like a little wiggly worm.

“So what are you doing tonight?” he asked her.

“I'm just going to take it easy.”

“What about you?”

“I have to go out of town tonight—on business.”

“Oh,” Tangie said simply.

“But I'd love to see you tomorrow night if you're free.”

“I think that can be arranged.” She laughed.

“Good. Pencil me in.”

“I already have.” Tangie checked her watch. “Oops, I'm late.”

“Let's get you back to work.” Tony stood and helped her with her coat. They hurried across the street just as raindrops began to fall. Right before she went inside, Tony leaned forward to kiss her. This time Tangie allowed his lips to gently cover hers. As Tony left and Tangie returned to work, the grin on her face remained for the rest of the day.

 

When Tangie woke up Saturday morning, her first thought was of the night to come. She rolled over onto her side and hugged her pillow, feeling calm, excited, nervous, anxious—in other words, all of the above.

The phone rang and she rolled over onto her other side to answer it. It was Blade.

“You trying to make me look bad?” he asked.

“What?”

“You heard me. I saw you and your little friend yesterday outside the gym. Don't be throwing your little boy toy up in my face 'cause two can play that game.”

“Go crack another rib,” she told him before hanging up.

Blade called her right back. She let her answering machine pick up.

“Tangie? Pick up the damn phone.”

She picked up and immediately slammed the phone down into the receiver. Apparently, he got the message because there was no third call. Tangie was seeing Tony that night. She wasn't about to let Blade spoil her mood.

She spent the day cleaning her house from top to bottom and running errands. She went to the grocery store, the drugstore, and the dry cleaner's. By the time she got home, she had three messages on her answering machine. The first was from Charisma. Her father hadn't had a heart attack after all. His heart was fine. He'd had an anxiety attack.

He was out of the hospital and home recuperating. Thank God for that. She erased the second message the moment she heard Blade's hostile voice.

The third message was from Tony. She instantly perked up.

“Hey, babe, it's Tony,” he began. “Listen, I'm going to have to cancel on you tonight. Something came up, and I can't get out of it. I'll give you a call as soon as I get back in town.” Sure, she was disappointed, but Tangie didn't stress or get upset. Smiling, she recalled a quote from Diane Ackerman in an old issue of
O
magazine: “Give a man enough rope and he'll wrap himself around your little finger.”

“So how's that mystery man of yours?” Charisma asked Tangie over Heather's one night.

“You probably know as much as I do,” Tangie replied, sitting on the couch. “I mean, I can't even get him on the freakin' phone half the time. I might as well be dating a ghost.”

“At least you know there's not another woman,” Heather said.

“Are you kidding me? A woman I can compete with. A job is a whole different story,” Tangie admitted.

“How long was he gone?” Charisma asked.

“Too long.” Tangie shook her head. “But he did bring me Cold Stone ice cream.”

“That was sweet,” Heather said.

“Yeah, that he is. I gotta give the man his props.”

“What else did you give him?” Charisma asked slyly.

“You are
so
bad,” Tangie told Charisma.

“I was joking,” Charisma said.

“No, you weren't,” Tangie insisted.

“So what's new with Blade these days?” Heather changed the subject.

“Nada. He's still a first-class ass,” Tangie said. “The other night he was waiting for me when I got home from work. When I didn't let him in, he called me from his cell phone every fifteen minutes until I finally had to take the phone off the hook. Why can't he just let me go?”

“Now, if you were chasing him, he wouldn't give you the time of day,” Heather said.

“You know a man can't handle the thought of another man savoring his ex's flavor,” Charisma told her.

“Rubber or not, if he even thought he was gonna stir his dick in Miss Crappuccino's cup and then put it back in me . . .”

Tangie shuddered at the thought.

“Just be glad you found out when you did,” Charisma told her. “It may have been a blessing in disguise.”

Eventually, the conversation made its way to Charisma and Nico. Apparently, Charisma had surprised herself.

“I thought I'd do just about anything to get back at Chase, but the bottom line is, I'm too much into the brothers.

Life is too short to waste on the wrong guy. I tried, but I just couldn't.” Charisma shook her head.

“In other words, you dissed him,” Tangie said.

Charisma thought for a moment. “Uh . . . yeah.”

“What exactly turned you off?” Heather asked.

“Hey, if you weren't feeling it, you weren't feeling it,” Tangie decided.

“Do you think you could sleep with a white man?” Charisma asked them.

“Don't get me wrong.” Tangie laughed. “Brothers can put you through hell, but I love 'em too much to even think about going anywhere else. On the other hand, when a white man is into sisters, he's really into sisters. Don't get me wrong, I've had offers, but none that I couldn't refuse. I guess it comes down to what price are you willing to pay?”

“I had a white boyfriend in college,” Heather admitted.

“Where were we?” Charisma asked.

“Oh, you guys had already graduated,” Heather said.

“How was he?” Tangie asked.

“Different,” Heather admitted. “Not unpleasant, just different.”

“Would you do it again?” Charisma asked.

“I don't know.” Heather thought for a moment. “So getting back to Nico. I still can't figure out why you even thought you could go through with it.”

“I don't know what I was thinking. He's a nice guy, but it never should have happened.” Charisma slid down into the love seat, relaxing to the sounds of Alicia Keys..

“What happened?” Tangie and Heather said in unison.

“I told you we went out on a few dates, right? No problem. I didn't mind the stares we got on the street from the brothas.” Charisma paused for a moment to rub the back of her neck. “And you know I couldn't care less about the stares from the little blonde chicks.”

“So what was the problem?” Tangie asked.

“He cooked dinner for me one night, and afterward we relaxed on the sofa. One thing led to another, but I couldn't go through with it. I was so embarrassed. All I could do was put my clothes on and leave. He's tried calling me a few times since, but when I saw his number on my caller ID, I just let it go to voice mail. Eventually, he got the hint and stopped calling.”

“You should never have gone out with him in the first place,” Heather said. “I know you just wanted to get back at Chase, but happiness is the best revenge.”

“That's what they say,” Charisma sighed.

“It really is. She'll get hers one day,” Tangie reminded her. “Trust me.”

“I know. I'm just tired of waiting,” Charisma said.

“We know,” Heather agreed.

Tangie woke up Tuesday morning feeling like a worn-out dishrag. She had nausea, diarrhea, and a fever. Achey and damp, she promptly called in sick and made herself a cup of tea. Tangie barely had enough time to make it to the bathroom before the bile rose up in her throat. She crawled back into bed and drifted off to sleep. Somewhere around eleven her phone rang, jarring her awake.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice raw and irritated.

“Tangela? Are you okay?” It was Tony.

“Oh hi, Tony. I think I'm coming down with the flu.”

“Poor baby. I just got back last night. Can I bring you anything?”

“All I want is sleep.”

“Have you eaten?”

She looked over at the cold cup of tea on her nightstand.

“I don't think I can keep anything down.”

“I'll be right over.”

“No, I'm a mess.”

“I don't care. I'm on my way.”

Tangie tried to brush her teeth without gagging, took a super-quick shower, and changed into fresh pajamas. She lay down for a few minutes, mustering enough energy to get the door for Tony when the bell rang.

“Hey,” she greeted him simply.

“You look terrible.” Tony walked in carrying a big bag of groceries, which he proceeded to take into the kitchen.

“You didn't have to bring me anything.” Tangie ran her hand through her hair and followed him into the kitchen.

“So sue me,” he said, emptying the contents of the bag onto the table. There was chicken soup, orange juice, oranges, herbal tea, a box of tissue, and throat lozenges. Tony took off his coat and washed his hands. “Why don't you get back into bed, and I'll whip you up something?”

“The pots are . . .”

“I'll figure things out,” Tony reassured her.

“Ooh, I feel a little light-headed.”

“Go get some rest.”

Tangie did as she was told. She got back into bed and turned on the television. Naturally, nothing much was on except daytime soaps. Thank goodness for the remote. She channel-surfed from one station to the next until finally Tony appeared with lunch.

“Hungry?” he asked, placing the tray on her lap.

“Starving,” she admitted.

“Good. I have a bowl of nice, hot chicken soup and crackers for you and a big, greasy burger for me,” he said, sitting in a nearby chair.

“You have some nerve eating that big, fat hamburger in front of me. Is it topped with red onions?” she asked.

He nodded.

“What I wouldn't do for a bite of that.” Tangie blew on a spoonful of soup before tasting it. The chicken soup was good, but she knew it couldn't compare with Tony's lunch—flu or no flu. She slurped it down, even though the smell of the burger was beginning to make her nauseous.

Unfortunately, she didn't make it to the bathroom in time and ended up throwing up all over her sheets. Embarrassed didn't begin to describe how she felt.

“Stop apologizing, Tangela. Where's your linen closet?”

“Down the hall, second door on the left.”

Tony got up from the chair. “Can you make it to the bathroom okay?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to talk. When she returned to the bedroom after cleaning herself up, he had already stripped the bed.

“Here, sit in the chair while I clean the bed and the mattress pad.”

“I'm so sorry, Tony.” She shook her head. “I mean, you don't even know me that well.”

“I'm here for you, Tangela, for as long as you need me, okay? And all those fly-by-night guys in your past are making it real easy for me because I'm not going anywhere.”

Tangie threw her head back and laughed. “You are too much.”

“And something tells me you can handle every bit of it.”

She laughed even harder and Tony joined in. He ended up spending the night with Tangie, watching over her from the recliner.