What A Person Wants (4 page)

What? This woman was unbelievable.

“Yeah,” I confessed. “Yeah, I did. You said you wanted to stay. I didn’t ask you to. You offered.”

“I’m sorry, Rich. I really have a lot of things I need to take care of.  Tiffany sent me a text this morning saying she was having some problems with Rhys so we‘re doing our ‘girlfriend’ thing right now.”

I heard some commotion in the back; it sounded like a man talking. It took everything in me to ignore that sound and focus on what Chloe said.

“Wait a minute, Chloe. You left me to run to Tiff?”

She giggled. “Uh, yeah! Is that a problem? I mean, I do
have a life, Richie.”

“Well, who the hell is that man in the background? If you're with Tiff, who's talking, Chloe?”
So much for ignoring stuff.

“'Who? What the fuck do you mean ‘who’?”

There came the attitude I’d grown to know and hate. A total Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde.

“You’re not my man to be asking me who the fuck I hang around. It’s none of your damn business, Richie! Like I told you, I’m out and about with Tiffany. We have things to do. Don‘t be questioning me like you're a fucking detective or something. You got me twisted for damn sure.”

That little bitch
.

My heart began to pound in my chest as my anger built to a peak. I sat on my bed and stared at the wall without really seeing it. I couldn't believe I was right back where I started from: Pissed and hurt.

In spite of my feelings, I was still determined to get a valid answer from her. I tried to keep my anger in check, but it was difficult. With every second that passed, I wanted nothing more than to shake Chloe.

“What the fuck you mean by that? I’m not your man? What was all that shit we talked about this morning? If I remember correctly, your ass was standing on my goddamn doorstep at four in the fucking morning asking me if we could start over. But I’m not your man? What's going on, Chloe?”

“Oh, that?” Chloe asked unaffected. I could’ve strangled her right then and there for the blasé tone in her voice. It was as if last night didn’t even matter.

“Richie, Tiff and I were talking this morning, and I came to the conclusion that you’re just not ready to have me. You and I had some good fun last night. Let’s leave it as that for now.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you, and I do love you, honey. You always know how to make a woman feel special.  You are hands down the best lover I ever had. But last night, I needed some attention and that’s what I got. You enjoyed it too. I mean, how could you not? You love this ass of mine. Always have, always will.”

I was speechless. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She used me! She lied and used me for my dick and affection like I was a cheap man-whore or something. Deep down, I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised by Chloe Childs. Rhys was right. She was a bitch when she was younger and she’s a bigger bitch today. But that didn’t alter the fact that I felt like refried shit at this exact moment.

“Chloe-”

“Baby, I need to go. I’m being rude to my company. Thanks again for last night. I really do appreciate it.”

Click.
The line went dead.

"That evil little bitch!"

ISABEL

Barnes & Noble had to be one of my favorite places to hang out. I practically lived in my favorite branch located off of Mercury Boulevard in Hampton, Virginia during my off time; it was not too far from where I lived as well. Tara always teased me about my dorky habit by calling me a bookworm and a nerd. I didn’t see a problem with that. If knowledge is power, then a “god” I’ll be.

Today, however, I didn’t really feel like reading or studying. After perusing through some titles in the mythology section, I doubled back to the front toward the comedy aisle. A
Baby Blues
comic strip book was an idle enough read to help take my mind off things. I desperately needed to blank out after last night.

Kyle had finally called me. It was almost midnight when the phone rang. For me, midnight was like high noon. I was nowhere near asleep, as usual. I had been sitting in front of my laptop typing down ideas I knew I would never fully develop. My “backburner” dream of becoming a novelist was turning out to be exactly that: a dream on the backburner. I spent days and nights pouring my heart and mind into a story only to erase the whole thing a week later.

When I was younger, no one could tear me away from my composition books and mechanical pencils. I wrote every day. But now it seems the older I get, the less I write. As with so many other things I’ve come to learn, such is life.

My ringing cell phone was a welcomed distraction from my lackluster writing attempts. As soon as I saw Kyle's name and contact picture on the screen of my cell phone, I couldn't answer it fast enough. Finally, my man was calling.

Hearing Kyle Bennett’s smooth voice on the other end of the line was nothing short of heaven.  I had missed him for so long, just hearing him say my name made my knees weak.

“Isabel?”

“Oh my god! Kyle? Hey, baby!” I jumped up from my desk, writing forgotten, and began walking around my bedroom. Suddenly, I was full of energy. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. We had only spoken all of ten seconds, and yet just hearing his voice had given me that warm and fuzzy feeling in my belly. I knew I was acting like a love struck 12-year-old, but I didn’t care. In that moment, I was with my man and everything was okay.

Kyle did not hesitate to apologize to me for not calling or writing over the last few weeks.

“Izzy, I have so much on my plate right now. I barely have time to myself with all this damn training I got to do to prepare for this promotion. And my superiors spend so much time goofing off; I’m left cleaning up the mess and trying to get things organized. I swear, I’m working with the most inept unit in the whole damn Air Force. I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I know I haven’t been around much. I’ll do what I can to make it up to you. I promise.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I know you’re a busy man. I just wish I wasn’t left in the dark so much. I didn’t know if you were still in Texas or if you had come back. Wait a minute. Where are you, anyway?”

“I’m still in Texas.”

“What?” I asked. I stopped walking.
He wasn't home?
“Why are you still in Texas? I thought you were reporting back to Langley this week?”

“I was supposed to, but my orders got changed. They want me to stay out here for a little while longer.”

I expelled a harsh breath and sat back at my desk, energy gone. I didn’t want to keep guessing when I was going to be with my man again. Knowing he wasn’t coming home anytime soon irritated me to no end.

“So, I guess Lawanda was right. You’re not coming home.”

No sound from Kyle. After I called his again, name to make sure he was still on the line, he finally responded.

“When did you speak to Lawanda?” he asked.

I took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Yesterday. She came to the job and asked me if I had heard from you. She’s convinced you’re gonna up and disappear on me.”

More silence. “Kyle, are you there? Kyle?”

“I’m here, Izzy. Listen to me, don’t pay attention to what that stupid cousin of yours says. I’m coming home as soon as my work here is done and I’m cleared to leave. I blame myself for not keeping in touch as much as I should have, but trust and believe that’s going to change. As a matter of fact, since I can’t come to Virginia right now, why don’t you come out here and spend some time with me?”

My eyes widened. “You want me in Texas? Is that allowed? I mean, can you have visitors?”

“Of course, I can, sweetheart!”

Well damn. How come we didn’t do this before?
I thought.

“See when you can take some time off of work and get back to me. I’ll pay for your ticket and set you up here. All you have to do is show up. How does that sound?”

“Great. It sounds great.”

We talked for about an hour more before he had to go. For the most part, the conversation was pleasant and much needed. It had been so long since we talked freely; speaking with Kyle was like a breath of fresh air. The only thing that struck me as odd was that Kyle didn’t mention anything about our wedding, and when I brought it up, he dodged the question. I didn’t know if he simply didn’t want to talk about such a heavy subject when we didn’t even have a definite date set or because he was leaving everything up for me to decide. Either way, his lack of interest left me confused. Surely, I wasn’t the only one still anticipating a wedding and a marriage.

That confusion carried over through a measly three hours of sleep this morning. And now here I stand, staring blankly at a colorful comic strip trying to erase the feelings of unease and uncertainty. I knew it was futile for me to try and make sense of the way I felt, so instead I took the book I found over to the Starbucks Café in the back of B&N. All I needed now was a caffeine loaded beverage and I would be set to sit and blank out for an hour or two.

I ambled up to the café counter which was devoid of a barista. As I waited for someone to appear, I looked through the display case at the various muffins and scones they had out for the day.

“Hey, I remember you.”

I turned toward the deep voice and almost choked on my spit. Mr. Gorgeous stood behind me with a big grin on his face. He looked just as good as he did at Rhys’ party a couple months back. His black hair was a little shorter, and the style would’ve made him look a tad bit older except for his outfit. He wore loose fitting denim jeans, a bright white wife beater tank and a crisp white shirt completely unbuttoned. His choice in apparel did nothing to conceal his sculpted body. Once again, the man looked edible and delicious.

I grinned right into his bright eyes. “Oh, do you, huh?” I asked even though I knew exactly where he had seen me. “And where might that have been? I don’t exactly recall meeting you.”

“We never actually met,” he responded.
My God, if he could box up his voice and sell it to the masses, he’d be an overnight billionaire.

“Oh?” I said feigning confusion.

His grin broadened. “You were at Rhys Pediway’s party a couple months ago. I remember seeing you there. You wore a red sweater.”

This time, I didn’t have to fake anything. I was genuinely surprised. We were never introduced, but he still remembered what I wore to the party. I was impressed.

“Oh, yes! The party. Come to think of it, I remember seeing you there, too. You were hanging around Rhys most of the night.”

“Yeah, that’s my partner in crime.” Mr. Gorgeous extended a strong, tan hand toward me.  “My name is Richie Reyes. I’m Rhys’ best friend. And your name is?”

I blushed as I grasped Richie’s hand. His hand was large, warm and pleasantly rough. “Isabel Maldonado. I’m a friend of Rhys’ as well.”

I noticed from the corner of my eye that the Starbucks server had returned from the back and was ready to take my order.  Funny thing was, now I couldn’t remember what I wanted.

“Were you ready to order, Isabel?” Richie asked.

I glanced at the barista and then to the menu behind the counter. I settled on the first thing I knew how to pronounce.

“May I have a caramel frappuccino? Grande.”

“You know that sounds good.  I’ll have the same, but make mine a Venti with whip cream.”

There was something about the way he said “whip cream” that damn near made me reach back and kiss him square on the lips. I peeked over my shoulder and saw that he had taken a credit card from his wallet and was now handing it to the guy behind the counter. He caught me staring at him.

“My treat. I hope you don’t mind?” he asked as the barista got busy filling in the order.

“No, not at all!” I decided to be somewhat bold and asked Richie if he wanted to sit with me for a few. He grinned again with those shapely lips and nodded his head. I had forgotten all about
Baby Blues.

RICHIE

I couldn’t believe I had a chance to lay my eyes on the thick lady again. Since Rhys’ party, Isabel had crossed my mind a few times, but every time I brought her up to my boy, he was quick to change the subject. Though he insisted they never had anything going on, I had to admit the fact that he didn’t want us to meet was a little strange. I was never one to be a pussy hound or treat a female bad no matter how badly I may have been treated myself. Chloe Childs could attest to that. Besides, Rhys ain’t my keeper. I saw Isabel out in public.
She’s fair game now.

I walked with her over to a little table near a huge window in the back of the café. It was then that I noticed the book in her hand.

“I take it you’re a fan of that comic strip, lugging around a book that thick,” I said as I pointed to it. She glanced down with her brow furrowed, and then realized what she was carrying. She blushed and giggled as she set the book down on an empty table next to us.

“Yeah, it’s funny enough. Reading
Baby Blues
is more of a therapeutic thing anyway.”

“Oh really?” I leaned forward, my interest piqued. “Do tell.”

I never believed that a person with such a light caramel complexion could blush like a fire truck, but Isabel proved me wrong.

“Well…”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool,” I said once I noticed her hesitancy. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her away.

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “It’s just that sometimes when I have a lot on my mind, I tend to read comics and space out for a while. Clear my head kind of thing.”

“Ah.” I thought about it for a moment before speaking again. “So, you needed to space out today? Do you need some time alone?” I prayed to myself that she would say no.

“No. Not at all. Actually, I would prefer to talk to you.” She smiled and leaned forward, her elbows on the table, drink untouched.

Yes!
I smiled as I looked into Isabel’s eyes. They were beautiful. While Chloe’s eyes were a smoky gray, Isabel Maldonado’s eyes were a light chocolate brown with a darker brown outer ring, almost like amber. A man could get lost in them.

“Um, Richie?”

“Huh?”

“You okay? I think you spaced out a little bit yourself for a second there,” Isabel snickered as a sudden heat rushed to my face. It was now my turn to change colors.

“Well, I was just admiring your eyes. They’re very pretty,” I confessed.

She appeared to be a little flustered and started batting her long eyelashes. She was a little taken aback by my compliment.

“My, my, my! Are you flirting with me?”

I chuckled at her mock innocence. I could see instantly why Rhys was cool with her.

“Maybe,” I said. I knew I was laying it on a little thick, making sure she saw my strong hands as I cracked my knuckles and gave her my best “I-could-eat-you-for-hours” eye contact. It must’ve worked because she cast her eyes down and started sipping on her drink. She was still grinning, though.

“You know, I’ve been friends with Rhys for years now and I’m surprised that you and I haven’t met,” I said after a few moments, deciding to change the subject. I tasted my own drink and gave her a chance to respond.

“Well,
I’m
not,” she responded. “Rhys and I met like six years. I ended up moving to Philadelphia for a few years after that, so I was never really around. Even now I’m usually busy with work or something, so we don't get together as often as we like. Sometimes, I feel more like a phone buddy than anything.”

“Oh, you’re definitely more than a phone buddy. Rhys thinks pretty highly of you.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. He bragged about you when we were back at the house that night. Told me you were a writer.”

Isabel’s eyes widened at my remark.

“I don’t know how much of a writer I am. I haven’t finished anything in ages. I have a little procrastination problem.”

“Well, that’s alright. If you know you have a problem, then you can work on fixing it. If you were clueless, then you’d really have a problem.” We shared a quick laugh.

“Yes, Ms. Isabel. Big Brother Rhys talked well about you and he‘s very protective of you, believe it or not. He didn’t even want me to talk to you at that party.”

Isabel gave me a strange look and a smile. “You wanted to talk to me at the party?”

Damn! Busted
.

“Well, yeah,” I confessed. “Like I said, he’s real protective of you. So when Papa says no, Papa means no.”

Isabel gave me a sexy grin and pushed back a lock of hair from her face.

“That’s cool of Rhys, but I’m a big girl—no pun intended—and I can handle myself.”

Something about the tone of her voice had me ready to tell Rhys to kiss my ass and take this woman for myself in spite of what he said. Technically, Isabel wasn’t the type of woman I normally went for, but she was so damn cute sitting across from me, even with her messy ponytail, cargo pants and low-cut pink tee shirt. I want to see if she really could take care of herself. I excused myself and went and bought a few oversized chocolate chip cookies from the café for the two of us. It was going to be a long afternoon.