What's Done in Darkness (10 page)

It opened to my wall, where I saw the same messages from after graduation:
Sorry about grad. Hang in there!
And the one that annoyed me the most, a poem about how challenges in life made you stronger.

No new private messages, either. But I'd already known that, because I had Facebook synced to my phone and got alerts when I received new messages or postings on my wall.

A feeling of sadness gripped me as the reality that I no longer had friends I could count on hit me.

I drew in a deep breath. Then, though every part of me told me not to, I ventured over to Wesley's page. The first thing I noticed was that his relationship status had changed from
IT'S COMPLICATED
to
SINGLE
.

My stomach fluttering, I then went to Michelle's page. She had unfriended me but so far hadn't blocked me, so I could still see her wall. Her new profile picture was one of her and Wesley on graduation day. But it was her current status that made my stomach drop:

I got the job with Amazon! I'm moving to Seattle!

As I stared at her status update, my head began to swim. She was moving to Seattle?

I blinked, feeling the tears stinging my eyes. Obviously, this wasn't a coincidence. Since when had she even been applying for jobs at Amazon? Wesley was in Seattle and now she was moving there, too?

Suddenly I could see it all. The wheels that had been in motion from months earlier. Michelle had clearly wanted Wesley, and she had probably been lying to me about wanting to head to New York City after graduation. She must have applied to Amazon a while back, knowing that a job there would put her in the same city where Wesley would be living.

Their relationship hadn't been a spontaneous thing. This had been her plan all along.

“Bitch!” I yelled.

I pressed the COMMENT button to reply to her latest status update. Anger flowed through my body, right to my fingertips.
Don't do it,
a part of me cautioned.
Just forget it.

I went back to Wesley's page and typed on his wall:
MICHELLE IS A WHORE!
Before I could change my mind, I hit the ENTER key. Then I tossed my phone onto my bed and sat up.

As my heart beat harder from the anger pulsing through my veins, I got off of the bed and started going through the clothes I'd hung up in the small closet. I wanted something tight. Revealing. It was time I hit the town and got over Wesley once and for all.

I settled on a mini tube dress. Black. It hugged my large breasts and my butt. Then I did my makeup in a dramatic style. Lots of mascara, bright red lips. I capped off the outfit with hot red pumps. I took a look in the mirror and I knew what men would see when they looked at me. I looked like I wanted to get lucky.

And I did. Anything to make me forget Wesley.

I opened my door, hoping that Katrina was in her room. But I gasped in shock when I saw her standing outside my door.

“My God,” I said. “You scared me.”

She offered me a smile, one that looked genuine. “Sorry.” She paused. “And sorry about earlier. I just talked to Marie—”

“What?” My eyes bulged. “Marie called you?”

“Actually, I called her. I sort of figured you would call her about our tiff, and I wanted to talk to her … make sure she knew not to worry.”

Katrina had called my sister before coming to speak to me? Damage control?

“You caught me at a really bad time,” Katrina began, “and I blew up with you.” She exhaled harshly. “I know you weren't spying on me. It's just … I was talking to my ex, and … I owe him some money. He's pretty insistent that he get it quickly.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “I see.”

“I was upset with him. Not with you. I know I was rude and hurtful, and I'm sorry for that.”

Rude and hurtful … She'd been more than that. She'd been downright scary.

“What?” she asked, guffawing. “You're not accepting my apology?”

“I…” I swallowed. Her tone was rubbing me the wrong way.

“You've never overreacted in your life?”

“Of course I have.” I nodded. “I accept your apology. And I didn't intentionally eavesdrop on you.”

“I know.” Smiling, she extended her hand to me. “Truce?”

“Truce.” I shook her hand. Then I asked, “You owe your ex money? A lot?”

“It's significant.”

“Why don't you ask Christian for the money?” I found myself saying.

Katrina's smile fell. “Why would you suggest that?”

“Um … it's just…” Shit, I didn't want to let her know that Alexis had told me he had money. And maybe the truth was that his family had money, not him. “Just wondering if he can help you out, that's all.”

“I'm not into using people,” Katrina said. “I'll sort this out myself.”

“Of course.”

She turned on her heel, and my stomach sank. So much for the truce we'd just made.…

But Katrina suddenly faced me again. “Where are you going?”

“Honestly—I don't know.” I shrugged. “I just figure it's time I meet some people. Maybe some guys.”

A knowing look in her eye, she nodded. “Good. Head to Duval Street. Turn right; walk three blocks. There are a lot of bars and clubs there. If you're feeling a bit more adventurous, you can head to Garden of Eden, a clothing-optional garden roof bar.”

My eyes bulged. “Have you been there?”

“Hell, no.”

I chuckled, relieved.

“Well, not yet,” Katrina amended.

My laughter dying, my eyes widened again. Was she serious? But then it occurred to me that maybe I needed to change my entire outlook on life and love. What I'd been doing so far wasn't working for me. “Actually, sounds like a hot spot.”

“This is Key West. I think the possibilities are endless … if you keep your options open.”

I gestured to my outfit. “That's kind of my thinking right now.”

“You have your cell?” Katrina asked.

“Yep.”

“Christian's out getting some groceries right now, but maybe we'll meet you for a drink later.”

I smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dusk was slowly being swallowed by night as I made my way down the street, following Katrina's directions. Even if she hadn't told me where to go, I would have known when I was nearing Duval, because I could hear the buzz of excitement in the air.

Duval Street was most definitely the center of the nightlife here in Key West. Everywhere I looked, I saw restaurants and bars. Neon lights lit up the sky, proclaiming the names of the various establishments. And the street was populated with people.

Four young women wearing tight skirts and high heels strolled into the intersection, their arms linked. They were chatting and laughing, and the sight of them made me think of my own friends. Of Saturday nights in Buffalo and going out with my girlfriends for a night on the town, just like these women were doing now.

It was a glaring reminder of the fact that I was alone here. Sucking in a deep breath, I straightened my spine.
No—don't you go feeling sorry for yourself. As Katrina said, Key West has a whole host of new opportunities for you.

And it was time to explore those opportunities. That was exactly why I was bravely venturing out on my own tonight. It was time to make new friends, find a new groove.

I looked left and right on Duval Street, feeling the energy of the place lift my soul. This was what I'd been missing since I'd gotten here. I hadn't gone far from the shop for the first week, not with the hours I'd been working. On Sunday, the only day I'd had off, I had finally headed to the beach, where I'd dipped my feet in the gorgeous water but not gone for a swim. My true reason for going to the beach had been to sit with my laptop and try to get some inspiration to write my novel.

In the near future, I wanted to go to the Ernest Hemingway Home and Museum. Be in an actual place where a literary genius had spent his time. But tonight was about partying.

The girls I'd seen walking together now crossed the street and trotted toward Margaritaville. I glanced around, trying to decide where I should go. Close by was a place named Irish Kevin's. It had a lineup, but the folk music I heard was not my style. Sloppy Joe's Bar seemed to be a popular spot, with a lot of people sitting on the patio and also lined up to get in. Too busy. I looked down the road and saw another apparent hot spot. But the people hanging outside and lining up to get into the Bourbon Street Pub were all men. Nope, definitely no women in the crowd. The place had to be a gay bar.

A car drove past me, and a guy stuck his head out of the passenger window and whistled. He was probably drunk, but I smiled nonetheless. The attention was nice.

Then, suddenly, my body jerked forward as someone slammed into me. In the next instant I realized that my clutch purse was no longer under my arm. Had I dropped it?

As I looked down, I caught the guy in a denim jacket running in my peripheral vision. And then it clicked. He'd bumped into me on purpose and snatched my purse!

“Hey!” I screamed, turning to give chase as he ran around the corner. “Stop!”

I ran as fast as I could, silently cursing the fact that I was wearing four-inch heels. Rounding the corner where the guy had disappeared, I stumbled to a stop as I saw a man tackle the guy who'd taken my purse. They fell onto the sidewalk, arms and legs flailing.

My adrenaline pumping, I hurried over to them. The guy who'd done the tackling jumped to his feet, producing the purse. “I believe this belongs to you.”

“I—thank you,” I said, then watched as the man who'd robbed me got to his feet and took off. “Shit, he just took off!”

As the man ran down the street, the stranger watched him, then faced me. “Are
you
okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He began to brush grit off of his thighs, which was when I started to
see
him. Dressed in a T-shirt that hugged an incredible torso and jeans that were slung low on his hips, this brother was the definition of fine. Golden-brown skin. Bald. He had muscular thighs, and my God, those biceps. His arms were ripped, his shoulders wide.

He stood tall and regarded me, and I felt a jolt of heat.

Good Lord, he was gorgeous. Though he was bald, he had a goatee … a seriously sexy look on him. This man looked absolutely scrumptious.

Where had he come from?

“What?” he asked, the edges of his lips curling as his eyes narrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Um, I … it's j-j-just…,” I stammered. “It's just, suddenly you were there.” I knew I hadn't properly voiced the question that I wanted to, but for a moment I could barely think straight. It's like my tongue wouldn't work.

“Ahh. Where did I come from?” he said, summing up my question. “I was on the other side of the road when I saw that guy swipe your bag. So, I went after him.”

He was grinning at me, his eyes crinkling. Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd ever seen a more beautiful man. It was distracting.

“I'm glad you were there,” I said, finally finding my voice. “My phone, my money, my ID … it's all in my purse.”

“I'm glad I was here, too,” he said, and his eyes held a little glint, and I couldn't help wondering … or hoping that he was flirting with me.

“Where were you heading?” he went on. “Margaritaville?”

“I was planning on it.”

“Then let me walk you over there.”

He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder blade and guided me across the street. But as we approached Margaritaville, I was no longer sure I wanted to go there. The line was long, and I was sure that the place was packed inside.

My eyes ventured to the establishment right beside it, named Pippa's. It was smaller, and as we neared it I could hear the sounds of lively jazz coming from the open windows. As with many of the establishments here, there was a patio filled with people.

“Actually, I think I'll go to Pippa's,” I announced.

The sexy stranger glanced at me as we stepped onto the sidewalk. “What—you're not meeting someone?”

I shook my head. “I'm exploring Key West on my own.”

He gave me a questioning look. “Really?”

“It's not a crime, is it?” I asked, my voice light.

“Of course not. I'm doing the same thing. Maybe we can explore Key West together.…”

My stomach flinched from nerves. “You, um, you're here alone?”

“Not anymore,” he answered.

He
was
flirting with me! A part of me wanted to tell him that he was wasting his time, that I had a boyfriend. But I quickly mentally chastised myself. What was wrong with me? I'd just seen on Facebook that Michelle was heading to Seattle to shack up with my man.

“What do you think of Pippa's?” I asked.

“I like the vibe. Let's go there.”

I turned to walk toward the front door but felt the man's hand on my shoulder, so I faced him. “By the way, I'm Brian,” he said. “If we're going to hang out, we should know each other's names.”

“Of course,” I said, blushing. “I'm Jade.”

“Nice to meet you, Jade.” He extended his hand, and I shook it. And again he grinned at me. It was a breathtaking smile that lit up his face. Good Lord, what a smile. It reminded me of a Shemar Moore or Taye Diggs kind of smile that made Brian even more attractive. I could only imagine it had had many women dropping their panties.

Together, we started toward the entrance to Pippa's. I was surprised that there wasn't a bouncer at the door, but once we got inside I understood why there hadn't been. Two of the tables I could see had adults with their children. Perhaps this was still the dinner crowd before the night action took over.

This was a far cry from the hip-hop clubs I'd frequented with Wesley and my friends in Buffalo. Ones crammed with sweaty bodies.