The Perfect Mistress (17 page)

Matthew directed her to meet him in his office in the administration building. He arranged for her to park right in front, and as she stepped out of her car, a wide smile spread across her face.

Coming here brought back so many memories. The statue of Harriet Tubman rose in the middle of the campus across from the admin building. Her heart warmed as she remembered meeting Matthew at that very spot. That was where he'd
dried her tears after she'd been crying because Jerome Wilson had broken up with her.

“It's not you. It's me,” Jerome had said that gloomy October day.

Lauren had fought back tears, not wanting the students who passed by to see her crying. Jerome had been her first, and she'd hoped they would be together forever. But after a couple of rolls in the sack, he was ready to move on.

“I don't believe you're doing this to me,” Lauren told him.

“Dang, stop acting like a little girl,” Jerome snapped.

Just then Matthew moved in. Lauren didn't know him. She'd seen him a couple of times around campus, knew he was an upperclassman, but they'd never met because she had devoted all of her time to school—and Jerome.

“Hey, Lauren, what's up?” Matthew had said, planting himself in the middle of their conversation.

Lauren looked confused. Matthew continued playing it cool, ignoring Jerome's scowl as he kept his eyes fixed on Lauren.

“So, I hear you're single now,” he said with a sexy smile. “You know, I've been trying to get with you since you got on campus.”

Lauren didn't know what to say, but Jerome didn't give her a chance. “Yo, dude, for real?”

Matthew towered over Jerome—both in height by four inches, and weight by forty pounds—so Lauren didn't think Jerome would try to jump bad.

“So, are you free now?” Matthew had said, continuing to ignore him. “We can go grab something to eat, then go see the new John Singleton movie.”

“Man, you're trying to get jacked up,” Jerome said, taking a step toward him.

Finally, Matthew turned around, looked past him like he was looking for someone, then said, “By who?”

Lauren figured now would be a good time to say something, since Matthew's height and weight didn't seem to be intimidating Jerome.

“Um, I'm okay,” she said, putting a hand between the guys.

Matthew turned back to her. “Not yet. But you will be. Dude tryin' to dump you right out here in public, in front of everyone.” He motioned around to the people standing around staring.

“This ain't got nothin' to do with you,” Jerome said.

Matthew waved him off. “Come on, let's go. You don't need this. Or him.”

Before Lauren could protest, Matthew had taken her hand and pulled her away, leaving Jerome standing next to Harriet Tubman, embarrassed and humiliated.

“Sorry about that,” Matthew said once they were on the other side of campus. “I can't stand to see a guy treat a girl like that.”

“Thank you,” Lauren managed to say. “Thanks a lot, umm . . .”

“Matthew. Matthew King.”

She and Matthew had become the best of friends after that.

The memory warmed her heart as she made her way into the administration building. Matthew had texted her that he was still in a meeting and to come on up. His secretary was waiting and led her back to his office. “He'll be with you in just a few minutes,” the classy gray-haired lady said.

“Thank you.” Lauren took a seat on the sofa in his office. While she waited, she took in the surroundings. The wall was covered with his degrees, awards, and framed photos of him
with notables like President Barack Obama, Spike Lee, and Maya Angelou. Lauren was definitely impressed. She didn't want to appear too nosy, but she leaned over to check out the photos on his desk. She had to make sure he didn't have any pretty young women on display.

There were none, but Lauren couldn't help thinking, as she gazed at a picture of Matthew accepting a medal at what looked like a marathon, that there had to be pretty young women in Matthew's life. He was too fine for there not to be.

“Who is she?”

Lauren's thoughts drifted back to one of her last conversations with Matthew before they broke up.

“For the one hundredth time, she's just a friend,” he claimed.

“You must think I'm stupid,” she had said, realizing she was echoing her mother's words. “That's it. You think I'm stupid.”

“I think you're overreacting,” Matthew snapped. “I'm up here, trying to get my master's, minding my business.”

“Letting tricks answer your phone,” she added.

Matthew sighed. “She's not a trick. She's a friend. And I didn't
let
her answer. She thought she was doing me a favor by answering because I was outside taking the garbage out.”

“Which was it, taking the garbage out or talking to a neighbor, because the first time you said you were talking to a neighbor!”

“I was talking to a neighbor while I was taking the garbage out!” he yelled.

Lauren had rolled her eyes. He sounded so like her father, couldn't even keep track of his lies.

“I'm not doing this with you,” Matthew said. “This is ridiculous.”

“I'll call her myself and ask her are y'all messing around.”

“You do that,” Matthew said, then rattled off her number. “And when you get done talking to her, don't bother calling me back.”

He'd slammed the phone down, and when she'd tried to call him back, she got a busy signal all evening.

Lauren had never called the girl. After she simmered down, she told herself that was something her mother would've done—accosted the other woman. And not only was she not about to become that chick, but this conversation told her she needed to change her approach to men altogether.

“Hello,” Matthew said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “What are you thinking about that put such a scowl on your face?”

Lauren had to push back the anger she hadn't realized was still simmering after all those years.

“Hey,” she said, standing and giving him a halfhearted hug. He was being so friendly, just as he had been so friendly all those years ago—to her and everybody else.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, but umm, I just, umm, I just realized I have an order that needs to be completed by tomorrow. So I'm not going to be able to go to the lecture.”

He looked surprised. “Oh, wow. You can't spare a couple of hours?”

“Not really,” she said, heading to the door. “I just wanted to tell you that. Maybe we can hook up another time. Thanks for the invite.”

Lauren hurried out the door, leaving Matthew bewildered.

W
hen it came to creating, Lauren put her full heart into it. Whether she was creating the perfect cover-up story, creating the perfect atmosphere to make a man happy, or in this case—creating the perfect piece of jewelry.

“That is so nice,” Vivian said, running her fingers along the oversize marble pieces.

“You like it?” Lauren held the intricate necklace up to her neck. Pink and green alternated, with a splash of marigold.

“Yeah, it's gorgeous,” Vivian replied. “You don't see those colors together a lot.”

Lauren laid the necklace back down on her kitchen table, where she did most of her custom jewelry designing. Her eye for a beautiful stone had led to her custom pieces and a comfortable career.

“You must not have had sororities on your college campus,” Lauren said.

A forlorn expression swept over Vivian's face. “No, I didn't go to college. I got married right out of high school. After I spent the first five years trying to get pregnant, I spent the rest of the time trying to be the best mother and wife possible.”

Lauren didn't know how to respond to that. She never understood
women who devoted their lives to a man. When that man left them, they often ended up right where Vivian was—alone, unskilled, and working for pennies in retail.

“Well, this piece is exclusively for one of my clients,” Lauren said, not feeding into Vivian's suddenly somber mood. “She's presenting it to her mother to celebrate fifty years in her sorority.”

“Were you in a sorority?” Vivian asked.

Lauren gently packed the necklace into a suede-lined box. “Naw. That wasn't my thing. I'm a loner, I'm afraid. I don't play well with others.”

“Was that because you were always stealing their men?” Vivian tried to laugh like she was making a joke. Lauren gave her the side eye because she didn't see anything funny.

“Girl, I'm just playing,” Vivian said once she noticed Lauren's sour face. “I didn't mean anything by it.”

Lauren let the issue drop. She wasn't going to let Vivian spoil her mood. Matthew had called and all but demanded that she meet him for breakfast this morning. She had expected him to be a little salty about her bailing on the lecture yesterday, but he didn't even bring it up. He'd cracked jokes, made her laugh, and put her at ease. He always made her laugh. By the time breakfast was over, Lauren found herself promising to stop focusing on the negativity from the past and remember only the good times they'd had.

“But seriously,” Vivian continued, like she was trying to clean the situation up, “you just like keeping to yourself?”

“I prefer to keep my circle tight, let's put it that way,” Lauren replied.

“Then I guess I should be honored.”

“You should.” Lauren flashed a smile in her direction to let her know that all was well.

They were interrupted when Lauren's cell phone rang.

“Oh, I have to take this,” Lauren said when she noticed her mother's doctor's office number appear on the caller ID.

“I'm gonna run use your bathroom,” Vivian whispered as she stood and motioned toward Lauren's bedroom. Lauren started to tell her to use the guest bathroom, since she didn't like people in her personal space. Instead, she just nodded and answered the phone.

“Hello, this is Lauren.”

“Hi, Lauren, this is Sonya with Dr. Rodriguez's office. I have him on the line.”

“Okay,” Lauren said, easing down into a chair. She dreaded the doctor's calls because he never called with good news.

After a few seconds he came on the line. “Hi, Lauren.”

“Hi, Doc.”

Dr. Rodriguez was very thorough, but he was straightforward, so she knew he was going to skip all the formalities. “I just got your mother's test results back. Unfortunately, the cancer has returned.”

Lauren let out a deep, wounded sigh. They'd been hoping that between the surgeries and radiation, their mother would go into remission.

“So, we're going to have to get more aggressive with her treatment.”

“That radiation drains her,” Lauren protested. She hated seeing her mother's vibrancy sucked away by the chemo treatments. She rubbed her temples, trying to process the bad news. How could the cancer come back? “Will this really help, Doc? It's like we keep doing this stuff and nothing works.”