True Confessions (4 page)

Dear Journal,

It’s already day three of my discharge from the hospital and today has been very productive for me. I feel somewhat stronger, physically anyway. I got out of bed and dressed, plus I plan to call my best friend Taylor back. She always places a genuine smile on my face and sometimes I wish I could be more like her. I envy the carefree way she breezes through life. Her motto is: “Life is too short not to live it to its fullest.”

Right now, I am really pissed at Mother. In fact, internally, I am simmering. Mother thinks I’m a little girl with no mind of my own. I am not a child. I’m a twenty-eight-year-old grown woman and I wish she would wake up and realize that. Mother can’t continue to go through life trying to protect me from everybody or everything that she deems evil or unsuitable. She has a good heart and means well, but she has to realize I have to learn to fight my own battles. Mother can’t conquer them for me.

I can’t believe she refused to let Drake talk to me earlier this morning. From what I heard, she even raised her voice to him, and Mother rarely raises her voice to anyone. She just nags, nags, nags. She is the queen of nagging. Even when she and Daddy were going through their divorce, I never heard her screaming or shouting at him. Now, crying was another story. I heard plenty of sobbing and witnessed many tears shed. However, that was water under the bridge because they have both gone on with their separate lives.

Mother is fully in charge of her life now and has been since she and Daddy divorced over five years ago. During their long marriage, she doted on Daddy so much that she almost smothered him to death. She had good intentions, but it was suffocating to him. He said Mother choked the life out of him slowly but surely. One day, out of the blue, he simply left. According to Daddy, he couldn’t take any more. Now, I receive that un-orthodox love from her. Up until now, living in separate households made it bearable.

I knew it was a mistake telling Mother some of the cruel comments Drake had said to me. Sometimes I would start talking, without thinking, and all the negative emotions and feelings would flow freely from my loose tongue. Two Sundays ago, Mother caught me during one of those rare moments on the phone. I didn’t tell her everything, but I told her enough, too much in fact. Now, she can’t stand Drake’s ass. If she knew the entire story, she’d want to kill him with her bare hands.

Let me tell you about the man I loved. Notice “love” is past tense. Drake is such a handsome man. He has movie-star good looks and can have any woman he desires. Yet, he chose me. In the beginning I was flattered, then I realized he sensed something vulnerable in me that he could control. Drake thrives on control and he’s an expert at identifying a person’s weaknesses. That is something I would learn further down the line.

The first time I set eyes on Drake was a year, two months, and a day ago. I can break it down to the hours, minutes, even seconds if you asked me to because I recall it just like it was yesterday. If only I had known or sensed in some way that he’d be trouble. Trouble with a capital T. If it’s too good to be true, then it probably is, and all that glitters isn’t gold. Drake was more like fool’s gold.

I was delivering business reports and correspondence up to the sixth floor to one of the managers, Bill Walker. Mr. Walker managed some of the top-tier clients that I serviced. We were engaged in the usual cordial how’s-the-weather chitchat in his spacious office. Not much of anything was really being said. Then Mr. Walker asked me the question that changed my entire life—for the worse.

“Kennedy, have you met our new manager, Drake Collins? He came to us by way of California roughly two weeks ago.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, come and let me introduce the two of you. You’ll probably work with him periodically on accounts and assist in getting him up to speed.”

We walked out of Mr. Walker’s corner office and strolled four doors over. I envied management. They all had large, stately offices that had floor-to-ceiling windows and were privileged to a spectacular view of Atlanta and could see as far away as Stone Mountain. Me, I had a tiny cubicle that didn’t have a door I could conveniently close for privacy, and I definitely didn’t have a view of the city. My view was the grayish wall of my cubbyhole.

With my degree in business administration I could be in management, but I didn’t have the desire to play the political games that were necessary to be successful in corporate America. Honestly, I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

Whenever I complained to Mother, she encouraged me to go back to school for my MBA. Sometimes I thought it was a good idea, but other times I wasn’t feeling another two or more years of professors, studying, and exams. With a full-time job, when would I have the time or energy?

As we walked into Mr. Collins’s office, sitting with his back to us and talking on the phone was an African American male who spoke with authority and power. He signaled with his finger that he would be just a moment. We patiently waited for him to end his phone call, and I quickly checked out his office space with curiosity.

Everything was neat, in place, and very efficient looking. There were not a lot of personal items such as photos or anything of that nature. So, I wasn’t sure if he was married or had any children. This new manager had a few colorful framed prints and affirmations on his wall and credenza. I still hadn’t gotten a good look at Mr. Collins, but I was secretly thinking about all the work waiting for me.

Finally, he turned around and stood up to address us, and I stumbled head first into his soulful eyes. Standing before me was the absolute most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my entire life. My breath caught in my throat. He was almost flawless; almost too perfect. Drake was the perfect specimen of a strong black man, on the outside anyway. The only imperfection I saw was a small scar, barely noticeable, right below his perfect bottom lip. I wanted to reach out, touch his cheek, and see if he was real, because the man standing before me had to be an illusion.

He was a six-foot-two god with slightly wavy close-cropped hair, light brown eyes, smooth dark brown skin, and a thin mustache that framed his beautiful smile. Even through his business jacket, I could make out the six-pack that was beneath his dress shirt. It was obvious he worked out at a gym because he was tight. I figured he was around thirty, no older than thirty-three. Yes, he was all man because just his presence was affecting me.

I was truly shocked that I hadn’t heard the women on my floor talking, gossiping, and placing claims on this manly specimen. You couldn’t miss Drake. When he walked in a room, he was the kind of man who made you pause in whatever you were doing and just drool. He commanded attention. I had merely blocked out my coworkers’ comments regarding him, or maybe they hadn’t bothered to inform me about him. I know they didn’t consider me competition, not because of my looks, but because they knew I didn’t date on the job.

I didn’t believe in office romances. I had witnessed what messing with the boss could do for you—give you your walking papers when the relationship went south, or maybe an internal black ball followed you out the door. Yes, the termination of office affairs had ended some promising careers at my company.

“Kennedy, Kennedy?” Mr. Walker repeated, giving me an odd look with a slight smile on his pale face.

Mr. Walker was forever in need of a few hours of sun, but he was pretty decent. He always treated me with respect and valued my opinion regarding clients. Recently, he personally called and asked me why I hadn’t interviewed for one of the management positions that were open. Internal associates always received first priority over external candidates. Mr. Walker thought I was a perfect candidate to interview for the position.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. “I spaced out for a moment. I guess I was thinking about the workload waiting on my desk.”

“Well, yes. You guys have been swamped with a high volume of calls lately, since we installed the new software. Don’t worry, Drake and I won’t keep you long.”

Drake and I awkwardly stared at each other. I longed to hear what his voice would sound like directed toward me. I thought it would be rich, deep, and sexy. Suddenly, images of him whispering sweet nothings in my ear clouded my brain. What was going on?

“As I was saying, Kennedy, I’d like for you to meet Drake Collins. Drake, this is Kennedy Logan. She’s one of our best senior relations service representatives. Kennedy has helped me out on numerous occasions and has an excellent rapport with many of our top-tier clients. She’s a great asset to the company.”

I held out my slightly shaky hand and tried, un-successfully, to stop the huge blush that had assaulted my face. I was pretty light skinned, so I knew that Drake and Mr. Walker noticed the redness that flushed my cheeks, neck, and face.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Collins. Welcome aboard.”

“Same here, nice to meet you too,” he stated as his huge hand swallowed mine. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast of our skin tones as they meshed in a handshake. I observed that Drake had perfectly manicured nails. And his hands, they were smooth and soft to the touch. I knew then that this man took care of himself and hadn’t done any hard labor a day in his life. He had been pampered and catered to.

Even though we were in a professional setting, I saw Drake quickly and discreetly take me in from head to toe. Starting at my feet, Drake swiftly admired my long legs, paused at my hips, made his way up to my chest, and finally took in my glowing face. All in a matter of seconds. When I went out with Taylor, this was the same look that I typically received from the men in the clubs. In the clubs, it turned me off because I always felt I was being sized up like a piece of raw meat by the hungry lions. For some reason, with Drake, my heart gave a quick flutter. This completely caught me off guard.

“Kennedy. What a lovely name.” My name just flowed off his tongue like a fine wine poured into expensive crystal glassware.

“Thank you.”

“Are you originally from Atlanta, Kennedy?”

“Yes, born and raised here. I am a true Georgia peach.”

“I can’t believe it. I’m finding it’s rare to find a true Atlanta native. Everyone here seems to be a transplant from New York, Florida, or someplace up North.”

“Well, you’ve found me.”

“Indeed I did.”

He smiled.

I smiled.

“Maybe you can suggest some good restaurants for lunch and dinner, for that matter. I just relocated from Los Angeles, and I’m still learning my way around and finding the hot spots in the city.”

“I’m afraid I’m the wrong one to ask. I usually eat lunch at my desk. I’m a diehard brown bagger,” I explained. Drake’s eyes never left mine. I could get lost in them. Drown. When the sunlight from his open window blinds hit them just right, the specks of green in his eyes danced around in merry circles.

When we heard Mr. Walker politely clear his throat, we came back to reality. As I brushed my wild hair out of my face, I quickly blushed again and looked down at the floor. Suddenly, I wished I had worn my nice black Donna Karan suit and put on some makeup. Plus, I was in dire need of a manicure. I quickly balled my fingers into tight fists at my sides and hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“Well, Miss Kennedy. It is Miss, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” I wanted to scream out, Yes, I’m single. Single and available. It had been awhile since I’d been in a long-term relationship. Any relationship.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I may have to call you so you can explain to me some of these reports you guys generate in your department. And if Bill recommended you, then you must be great,” he said, holding my hand again, a bit too long. I shuddered and felt a moisture that surprised me.

“Nice meeting you too, and I’ll be glad to explain the client reports. They can be a bit confusing to someone not used to reviewing them. Just give me a call. I’m in the directory, extension 3-5123.”