“I, um, I.” She stuttered, so I knew a lie was coming out of her mouth next.
“I am not at the Dollar Tree. I work at a club.”
Her confession, even at the low volume she told me, still blew my fucking head back.
“What did you just say, Ryan?”
She sighed because her next words, I could tell, she didn’t want to say.
“I work at a strip club, Bria. I’m sorry for lying to you.”
“What fucking club do you work at, Ryan?”
“Raw.” She whispered, and I punched my steering wheel, wishing it were her mouth.
“Why would you lie about where you work and since when did you become a fuckin stripper? Why didn’t you call Nathan to pick you up? That’s your man, right? I’m sure he’s the one who convinced you to work there anyway.”
“No, he didn’t know. He thinks I work at the Dollar Tree too. Plus, he is busy working on a building in Brooklyn, so that’s why I didn’t call him. He just started that construction job.”
I tried exhaling to calm myself down because this girl had my blood pressure high once again. It's always something with her ass.
“I’m on my way, Ryan. Don’t leave that fucking restroom until I get there.”
“Okay, I won’t. Thank you, Bria.” She answered softly and then hung up the phone.
When it rang again, I thought it was my sister, but it was instead Marcus, and I was preparing myself for the lies before I could even accept the call. The only reason I wanted to answer was because we had made a secret bet that I would beat him in our first head to head. I was positive even before the star witness was murdered that I would beat him. His age and accolades doesn’t make him a better lawyer than me.
I met Marcus on the train after leaving class on a cold January day. I remember hugging my books to my chest like they were the only thing holding me together on my way to my mama’s house, needing comfort only she could give. I was going through a lot that week. My older brother Orlando had just gotten locked up for stupidly running drugs for the Hernandez Mafia, like that group of men wasn't known for getting caught and locked up. Orlando was just hungry for fast money, as many men are these days. We knew something illegal was going on with him when he started giving mama money on the bills and bringing home new boxes of sneakers every other day.
The day the police picked him up from our house, I got the call minutes before a midterm exam, and my hands shook the entire time. I couldn't focus because Orlando and I had been close, so when I turned in the paper, I just knew I had bombed it. That same day Marcus sat down across from me in the cluttered, crowded chaos of the train and got my attention at the first chance he got.
“Are you okay, Ms. lady?”
His voice melted into the chaos of the train before it fully registered. He leaned over the aisle, deep brown eyes full of concern, as if he knew me for years.
I lied, said I was fine, but eventually, small talk softened into real conversation, and being the man of many words, he pulled the truth out of me, slow and gentle, like he was unwrapping a secret I’d been holding too tight.
By the time the train screeched to a stop, he knew everything that was running through my mind, and my number.
I mean, how could I ignore a man so fine? Tall, broad shoulders under a perfectly tailored coat, skin rich and smooth like dark chocolate. His jawline could’ve cut glass, and his smilecarried heat. He looked like a nineties Morris Chestnut with a smile to match.
And maybe that’s exactly why I should’ve walked away. Any man who is that fine and that emotionally intact was a red flag. No man has it all and looks good while having it, without shady ways, and that was indeed Marcus.
When I hit accept on the call, he started talking right away.
“Are you okay? I wanted to check on you outside the courthouse all day, but you know how that is.”
“I’m fine, Marcus. Trust me, I am good.”
I cut off his words because I still wasn’t over him standing me up on my birthday when he promised we would link up. Him standing me up didn’t help the fact that I hadn’t seen him much at all over the past month, because we'd both agreed we needed space so we could prepare for the upcoming trial. I don’t get much time with him as it is, so, of course, I wanted my birthday to be special as he promised. I however spent that night dressed in a nice gown for hours until I took it off and put on my robe to go to sleep.
“I’m glad you are okay, baby. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Oh, you know what you would do, Marcus. Had I got shot today and died, I would have died a side piece and you would've went home to your wife. Why are you still trying to play this game?”
“Don’t say what we have is a game, Bria. You know I want to marry you, and I will marry you one day. Why do you think you have that ring? The one that I didn’t see on your finger at the courthouse today.”
I rolled my eyes because the audacity of him thinking I would wear a ring every day for a marriage that may or may not ever happen. He gave me this ring months ago, and we hadn’t talked about marriage since. These days, I feel that ring was just another way to string me along.
