Walk a Straight Line (4 page)

Keith had seen Gina's hands move down Michael's back before she broke the kiss. He had seen Michael's hands on her bare back, and he could imagine how soft her skin must feel.
It should be me.
He felt an inexplicable churn in the pit of his stomach. It was grinding him on the inside. What was wrong with him? This had never ever happened to him before. He and his brother had never shared the same taste in women.

A pair of hands encircled his waist. Startled, he jumped.

“Miss me?” Eve purred in his ear.

Keith turned around to greet her. He untangled himself from her grip.

“I didn't hear you come in. How was your doctor's appointment?”

She pouted. “Everything is fine, and you would've known that if you had been there with me.”

“I'm sorry. I had a case. You know that. I explained it to you earlier,” Keith answered patiently and reached out to pat her protruding stomach.

“I know,” Eve said, before she relented. He saw the exact moment she spotted Michael and Gina.

Eve tilted her head. She moved her eyes up and down Gina's silhouette. Keith could see the oh-so-familiar female dissection process that began whenever another woman was in his space. Eve considered every woman competition. Even his brother's girlfriend. “That's her?”

“Yes. That's Gina.”

“She's pretty,” Eve remarked.

“Yes, she is,” Keith replied in a careful, noncommittal tone; then he decided it was best to not give Eve a chance to render her final verdict on Gina's appearance, because she'd surely find something wrong with the dress or the hair or the makeup. “Michael, Gina, come here for a moment.” He made the necessary introductions between Eve and Gina, but his mind registered that the couple had entered the room holding hands like . . . lovers. He couldn't help but wonder, were they?

He directed everyone into the dining area. Keith had lit the entire room with candles in lieu of regular lighting. He wouldn't admit that he had painstakingly done it all with Gina in mind. He glanced at Gina. Her lips looked red and swollen. Those same lips were now curved in appreciation at his handiwork, as her hands grazed the tablecloth.

“Nice,” Eve murmured and pulled Keith closer to her, marking her territory. He allowed her the pleasure and motioned for everyone to be seated.

As they ate, everyone complimented him on the food. Keith accepted their praises but every opportunity he could steal, his eyes fell on Gina. It was easy to do too since she was seated directly across from him. He watched her with deep intensity. He saw Gina bite into the meat. He saw her stick her tongue out to lick gravy from her upper lip. He watched her scoop the potato off the fork and into her mouth.
It was killing him.
This had never happened to him before. Attraction had punched him in the guts.

“Michael, I almost forgot to mention that Keith and I will be working together,” Gina said.

“Really? He didn't tell me that,” Michael returned.

“Yes . . .” As Gina filled Michael in, Keith ducked his head and concentrated on his meal. Eve's eyes were burning holes in his skin, but he refused to look her way.

Michael cupped Gina's hand and assured her. “I'm sure you're in good hands, Gina. With Keith on the case, it's in the bag.”

Keith barely acknowledged his brother's bragging, because Eve poked him in his side. He gave her a look.
What?

She scowled. He would catch heat later.

However, Keith wasn't concerned. As Michael's thumb stroked Gina's palm, searing heat rose within him. Jealousy. It was green, and it was ugly. Keith strove for temperance. He loved his brother, and Gina was his brother's woman.

He wanted her.

He couldn't have her.

That had to be the end of it.

What was
she
doing here? That was his first thought. His second reflected gratitude that Gina wasn't with him.

“Hi, Mikey,” the woman said, using the pet name she always called him.

Michael's good mood evaporated. He dropped his briefcase and gasped. Immobile, he swung his head from left to right, taking in the plethora of open albums and scattered pictures. From her position on the floor, the woman looked at ease, as if she belonged there. Michael placed both hands on his hips and asked the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. “Karen, what are you doing here?”

“I, uh . . .” Karen Newton searched for words. She shuffled and gathered the pictures to stack them into piles. “I came by, and since I still had my access card, decided to let myself in. I got bored, so . . .” Karen splayed her hands at the display.

“So, you decided to break in?”

Karen shrugged.

Michael exhaled. He resisted the urge to toss her out. He ambled over to where she sat and squatted to examine her. She'd put on some much-needed weight, because her usually gaunt face looked rounder. He took in her half-inch long nails and the huge hoops hanging from her ears. Karen had abandoned her natural look and had returned to relaxing her hair. She also had it cut and colored various shades of auburn, or chestnut. He wasn't sure which. Whatever, he was pleased by what he saw.

When they had started dating, Karen had stopped working and had hibernated in his penthouse, doing nothing. She had let herself go to the point where Michael had had to pay someone to come in and do her hair and nails. But now, she looked like her old self.

“You look good—” Michael acknowledged and rose to his feet. He moved to sit on the couch, right before he added to his compliment, “and your hair. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” Karen replied, before addressing the big question. “I guess you must be wondering what I'm doing here.” She gathered his albums and other memorabilia, then placed them back under the coffee table that they had picked out together. When she was done, she joined him on the couch.

“Yes. I never expected to see you again after, you know . . .”

“Well . . .” Karen explained, “time has passed, and I started thinking that, well, perhaps I had been too hasty to just let us go.”

“Well, that was totally understandable after the way I hurt you,” Michael reasoned. His body showed nonchalance, but on the inside, he screamed, “I can't believe this is happening. Why is this happening?”

“Are you seeing anybody?” Her expectant face showed she hoped for a negative response.

“Kind of . . .” Michael trailed off.
Kind of? It was either yes or no.

Karen raised her eyebrows at him.

“Yes,” Michael clarified, “I am seeing someone.”

“Oh . . .” Karen's shoulders drooped, and she sighed. She hung her head.

Her shaking tipped him off that she was actually crying. Michael's heart went out to her, and he reached out to hug his old love.

“I just . . . I just realized that I still love you . . . and . . . I just . . .” Karen sobbed and sniffed. She wiped her nose with her hands, and that simple act touched him. Michael turned toward the end table, plucked out a couple tissues from the box, and handed them to her. Karen blew into a tissue to get some semblance of control. He took another and gently wiped her face.

“I never intended to break down like this. After all, it's been almost a year. I shouldn't have expected you to be waiting, especially when I made it perfectly clear that I wasn't coming back,” Karen admitted.

Worried, Michael's eyes wildly scanned the room. He couldn't meet her eyes. After her big suicide attempt, the last thing he wanted to do was reject her completely.

“I just feel as if I'm going to die without you,” Karen groaned.

“Please don't talk like that.” Michael held his head as the weight of her words hit his shoulders. What should he do? “You're not going to die, Karen,” Michael expressed. “I mean, just look at you. You got it going on.” Their eyes met. He felt a familiar stirring. No, this could not happen. Karen shifted closer and rubbed her face across his neck. He couldn't believe she'd resorted to the oldest trick in the book. Well, he wasn't falling for it. Michael jumped to his feet. “Karen. This cannot happen.”

Karen stalked him. This must be how the bug feels when it realizes it's been caught in the spider's web. She pinned him with an intent, predatory gaze. Panicked, Michael used his hand to impede her from getting closer. “Look, it's over between us, and I'm with a good woman, and I'm not trying to hurt her. So leave my spare keycard here on your way out. I'll give you ten minutes and if you're still here, I will call the cops.”

He retreated into his bedroom after his ultimatum. He hated being so cold with her, but he wasn't taking any chances, for his traitorous body might betray him. True to his word, he was out in ten minutes. He wasn't prepared for the sight before him.

 

 

The next day, Michael called Keith. Foregoing the perfunctory greeting, he stated, “I slept with Karen.”

“You did
what?
” Keith bellowed over the line. “Did you say,
Karen?
”

Michael raged. “Yes! Karen! She was here when I got home. I demanded she leave. I gave her ten minutes before I vowed I'd call the cops. She was naked. You know no man could resist that.”

“That's a poor excuse. When will you stop thinking with your—ah—well, fill in the blank!” Keith roared. “Gina is a class act. Karen is the closest thing to trash that I know.”

Resentment burned inside him at his brother's disgust. “Karen is not trash. I wish you'd stop calling her that.” She possessed redeemable qualities, despite her erratic behavior. But, Keith refused to give Karen a chance once he had her pegged.

Keith was silent for a second. Then he conceded, “Well, maybe trash is a harsh description. But she is psychotic and, dare I remind you, suicidal.”

Michael couldn't disagree. Karen had cut up all his clothes down to his socks in a fit of rage; she had slashed his tires and had broken all his favorite music discs. Still, Michael had not ended things because he had given her good reason to be angry. He had dogged her out.

There was also the fact that she wasn't lacking skills in the bedroom. Maybe it was because she wasn't too far from certifiable, but there was nothing that Karen hadn't been willing to do or try.

However, Gina made him a better man. Yet, better man or not, he hadn't called her all day, which was unusual for him. Every time Michael picked up the phone to dial her digits, guilt engulfed him. He felt as if he were about to choke on it. Call him paranoid, but he just felt as if Gina would be able to tell by osmosis what he had done. She seemed as if she could see through his very soul whenever they spoke. No, he couldn't chance it. He had to avoid her for a few days until his equilibrium returned.

He also had to figure out what to do about Karen. She had still been at the penthouse when he'd left. Michael vowed to get rid of her, pronto. Now that his head had cleared, he admitted that Karen was a parasite, and he knew that she was about to latch on with all four claws. He could not afford for that to happen, but how could he slither out of this one?

Michael felt like a coward, but he was going to have to get out of Dodge for a few days.

Atlanta?

Hmmm
. . . Michael thought. Atlanta sounded good. He had a legitimate reason to go there because he had some work he needed to get done there. He had been contracted to design the layout for a new chain, Simmonds Synthetics. He had delayed his start date, because he knew it would take a few weeks and he hadn't wanted to be away from Gina. But now was the opportune time to go. He figured if he left now, he would kill two birds with one stone. He could get some space to think and get paid for it.

Without another moment's hesitation, Michael called and booked his first-class flight. His fingers shook when he dialed Gina's number. He sighed with relief when he got her voice mail. He left a brief message explaining his “sudden” trip, and hung up before he made any foolish confessions.

Colleen scurried over to where Gina waited. She'd missed the 1:08 p.m. Long Island Railroad train to Manhattan, and had had to wait fifteen minutes for another. Then, the ten-minute trek from West 4th across the park made her even later and colder. It was a good thing she'd worn her cashmere sweater. She and Gina met up by their favorite gyro and pizza shop. They'd been coming here since their college days at New York University—always crowded with limited seats but so worth it.

Gina was being her usual impatient self, tapping her feet and looking around in every direction. Colleen chuckled. She knew what was coming next.

“Late. As usual,” Gina said, as soon as she spotted Colleen. “I ordered a large pizza for us to share.”

“Sorry I'm late and thanks for ordering because I'm starved.” Colleen bent down and hugged her friend. They broke apart, looked at each other, and hugged again.

“I missed you. You look good. Seeing you is so much better than just talking on the phone,” Gina said.

“I agree. And so do you, look good, I mean,” Colleen answered, while she situated herself at the table. “I can't believe all this time has gone by, and we're now just getting together.”

“I know,” Gina concurred. “But, you're a busy married woman now, and you know how crazy back to school can be. August just flew by, and now, here we are in the third week of school. Plus, didn't you and Terence go out of town for Labor Day?”

“Yes, there was a church trip to Pennsylvania and a cookout, and . . . Girl, who knows! Church life is hectic and busy. There is always some function going on or some crisis. It never ends.” While she spoke, Colleen rummaged through her purse and retrieved a beaded necklace that she'd brought back from Jamaica for Gina.

“It's beautiful!” Gina exclaimed, while examining the beads. She clasped it around her neck. “Turquoise is such a beautiful stone. Looks expensive.”

Colleen lowered her chin and arched her eyebrows. Gina laughed as understanding dawned. Terence had given her a hard time when she decided to purchase it, but Colleen had stood her ground. She had let him know that she was going to get it whether he liked it or not. Seeing her determination, Terence had backed off. He had even magnanimously paid for it with his credit card, and Colleen let him, without any remorse or guilt.

“So, how is Terence?” Gina toyed with her necklace. “How was the honeymoon?”

This was the first time Gina mentioned Terence's name without a snide rejoinder. Colleen pretended to swoon with dramatic disbelief. “What? No biting comment?”

“Maybe I'm reforming my ways.” Gina raised her hands in mock surrender. “If you're happy, then so am I. I'm not going to interfere, especially since I do not even know the man, and he is your husband at this point, so . . .”

Colleen appreciated that. “Thank you. And, to answer your question, he's doing fine.” She looked at her watch. Terence had probably called her at the house already. He usually rang at one o'clock to say hello. Colleen was always at home, waiting to hear from him. However, even though she would never admit it out loud, she felt a little uneasy about his daily phone calls, which came like clockwork. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was really checking up on her.

He was jealous, controlling, and possessive, but kept that side to him veiled under politely worded requests. The requests, however, were more like demands.

Their pizza came, and both women bit in. Colleen loved the homemade sauce filled with the right amount of tomato and basil. Gina loved the thick mounds of stringy cheese when she took a bite.

“So Bohlander & Associates accepted Payton's case!” Gina said, between bites.

“Good for you, Gina. They're a top law firm.”

“All I did was write a letter on Payton's behalf,” Gina demurred. Then she added. “Michael's brother, Keith, works for them . . .”

Her pizza finished, Colleen nodded at the appropriate times while Gina elaborated, but her thoughts drifted to Terence. She refused to entertain the notion that she might have made a mistake and jumped the broom a teeny bit too soon. Her pride prevented her from telling Gina.

Besides, in her heart of hearts, Colleen believed that somehow, things would work themselves out for good. That's what the Bible said, and God's Word was gold. She and Terence were just undergoing an adjustment period, she reasoned. Things would get better between them.

“Are you even listening to me?” Gina cut into Colleen's thoughts.

She jumped out of her reverie. Gina had been saying something about . . . Stumped, Colleen could only shake her head. She gave Gina a sheepish grin.

“See what married life does to you! It affects your brain.” Gina cracked up good-heartedly.

Thoughtful, Colleen rested one hand on her chin. Gina glowed. Her eyes sparkled. Her sunny persona appeared for two reasons—Money or Men. Colleen would stake her vote was on the latter.

“So, you and Michael hit it off, huh?” Colleen pried.

“Yeah, we sure did. He's away now in Atlanta for a few weeks, but that is just a slice of the pie . . .” Gina filled her in on her lunch date with Keith, and her fantasizing about him.

“Brothers!” Colleen shook her head with a slight grin, not the least bit surprised to hear that her friend was mixed up in such a love triangle. This was not the first time Gina had attracted the attention of brothers.

“This sounds like Jason and Justin Browben all over again,” Colleen said, reminiscing.

Gina hissed through her teeth. Colleen wiggled her eyes and ears. She would never let Gina live that down.

“That was ages ago,” Gina smirked and rolled her eyes. Her cheeks were rosy from embarrassment, though. “This is nothing like that.
Believe
me.”

Colleen delighted at her friend's discomfort. Jason and Justin Browben were identical twins who both had taken a strong liking to Gina in college and who had become her shadow. Gina called them Double Dragons and Twin Trolls, but that didn't make a difference to either of them.

“I wonder where they are now,” Colleen said.

Gina shuddered. “I don't care. As long as it's nowhere near here! I'll never forget their invitation to a threesome.”

Colleen slapped her thigh. “I had forgotten about that.”

“Well, Michael and Keith are nothing like Jason and Justin. They're like mincemeat compared to these guys.” Gina bragged. “And just wait until you meet Keith. The man is beautiful. I'm sure he'd cringe if he heard me say that, but it's the truth.”

Colleen raised her eyebrows at the airy inflection in her friend's voice and became a little concerned. “Girl?”

“What?”

Gina refused to meet her eyes.

“You know what!” Colleen persisted. She leaned over to look Gina in the eyes. “You're attracted to him!”

“Him, who?” Gina hedged.

“Cut out the games, Gigi,” Colleen warned. “You're too smart to play dumb. Gina, you can't be messing with two men, especially in this day and age. Plus the fact that they're brothers . . . Ugh!”

Gina hung her head. But Colleen didn't care about the censure in her voice. She knew her friend needed a tough talking to.

“I
do
like Michael,” Gina insisted, “But there's just some sort of magnetism about Keith that draws me to him.” She whispered the words to Colleen, as if she were in a confessional.

“Well, Keith is engaged, so you know that nothing can ever come of that,” Colleen warned, using her schoolteacher voice.

“You do not have to reprimand me like I'm one of your students,” Gina answered, a little testily. “I would never try to play two brothers like that. Haven't I always walked a straight line?”

Colleen exhaled and relaxed. “You're right, girl. I'm sorry if it seemed as if I was judging you. But I guess I'm just being overprotective. I know you always do the right thing. Speaking of doing the right thing, are you coming to our Friends and Family Super Sabbath? I'm going to be getting rebaptized and I need someone there who's in my—”

Colleen's cell phone rang, interrupting the conversation. She saw relief wash over Gina's face. Gina welcomed the reprieve. “Hi . . . Yeah . . . I ah . . . I have no idea . . . All right . . . Give me a couple of hours.” Colleen hung up the phone. She looked over at her friend, who was giving her
that
look. A look that Colleen knew all too well, for it was usually followed with a snippy comment. “Don't give me that look,” she scowled at Gina with irritation.

“What look? I guess you just got your summons to return home, huh?” Gina balked. “I'm not surprised. Even when you both were just dating, he'd always find a reason to call you away whenever we hung out.”

“That's not true,” Colleen denied, but Gina's accusation pierced her heart, because it resonated with truth. She had made the same observations herself, but was not as willing to admit it out loud.

Defensive, Colleen sought to wipe off that smug expression on her friend's face. “Well, at least I don't have to worry about mixing up names and keeping track of my lies.”

Gina's mouth popped open with shock and appall from Colleen's crass statement. In all their years of friendship, she had never come at her friend like that. Gina's face contorted with hurt. Colleen squirmed. Pride prevented her from apologizing.

“Well,
Sister
Hayworth,” Gina began, with tears stemming her eyelids, “I guess there is no need for us to continue this discussion, is there?” With that, she snatched her handbag, tossed a twenty-dollar bill onto the table, and walked out without even a good-bye.

Once Gina had left, Colleen felt miserable. She couldn't believe that she had taken a cheap shot like that at the very best friend she ever had in the whole world. Especially since what Gina said about Terence was true. She knew she could have apologized or said something to ratify her nasty comment, but she hadn't. Gina's spine had been ramrod straight, and Colleen knew that she had hurt her friend with that crude remark. She all but called her friend loose and trifling, when that was the farthest thing from the truth. Colleen didn't have any idea what the matter was with her lately.

Lie
. She knew. Her new attitude could be summed up in one word.
Terence.

She looked at her cell phone and pressed Gina's speed dial code but stopped just before it could ring. She'd call her, later.

Later, turned into days . . . days turned into weeks, but Colleen couldn't bring herself to make the call. Gina had texted her a couple times, but she refused to answer. So, it was no surprise that Gina didn't come for Super Sabbath, which Colleen was glad about, because it was surprisingly uneventful. She had seen the whole day as an ordeal, and maybe Gina would've picked up on her discomfort with the fanfare of her rebaptism celebration. A part of her wondered if that wasn't a subconscious stimulant for her fight with Gina.

Then one day, Colleen entered her house, having just returned from a shopping spree. She had enjoyed herself, but had to admit that it was just not the same. Colleen missed Gina. Shopping was something that they almost always did together. Though Gina was usually kicking and screaming, it was always still fun.

She hunched down in the couch, dead tired.

“How was your day?”

She'd had her eyes closed but cracked them open at Terence's question. He had come out of the kitchen to greet her. She could tell because he held the remnants of the turkey sandwich she'd left for him before going out.

“Okay,” Colleen said, and boosted her tired body high enough to give him a kiss on the cheek. “But it feels weird, not working. This is the time of year I'd usually be dress hunting with Gina for the high school's Homecoming Dance. So I decided to go shopping. I've rarely gone shopping without Gina,” she bemoaned.

Terence merely shrugged. Secretly, Colleen believed that he rejoiced that she and Gina were not on speaking terms. Why would he? That meant that Colleen was paying him even more attention, and he was basking in every moment of it.

She hoisted herself upright when Terence went over to where she had placed the bags. He peeked into them, looking for something. “I'm sorry, honey, I didn't buy you anything this time,” she yawned. Still he persisted. Why was he so interested in her purchases?

Terence hauled out a pair of pants and looked over at her. Askance, he raised one eyebrow. Colleen's heart thundered in her chest. She leapt off the couch, eyeing him like a cornered prey. The air between them intensified under his silent question. “They were on sale.” Colleen's voice quivered. She rubbed at her arms to kill the goose bumps, hating her transparency.

Terence did not reply. Instead, he dove through the other bags. She stammered, “What are you doing?” He ignored her. Colleen shivered as her husband maniacally divided the clothes she had purchased into two piles. “What are you doing?” she repeated, with more emphasis.

“Get rid of those,” Terence ordered and abruptly departed.

Colleen watched him go before expelling a small sigh of relief. She held up her hands. They were actually shaking. Colleen picked up the pants—the culprit. Terence was angry that she had not taken his subtle advice to only wear skirts since he was about to become the church's associate minister. He had stated that as a pastor's wife, she should wear more demure dresses instead of what she was used to wearing. But Colleen was not having it. She was her own woman, and being married was not about to change that.

If he thought for one second that just because she was now spending his money, she had to answer to him, he had another think coming. If that was what he expected, Colleen would just go back to her job at the school. It was at his insistence that she'd resigned and devoted herself to his ministry—well, she hadn't resigned, just put in for a year's leave of absence. She could have her old job back any time she wanted.