Lost In Me (Here and Now 1)

His big brown eyes grow impossibly wider. “No shit?”

“No shit,” I say solemnly. “And the more I find out about what I’ve forgotten…” I swallow, struggling to verbalize the strange but undeniable impulse that brought me here. “The more I learn, the more I realize I need to spend time with Nate before shutting him out of my life.”

“Why would you shut him out? That’s crazy talk,” he says. I hold up my left hand, and Jamaal draws in a long breath, his nostrils flaring as he presses his hand to his chest. “Who gave you that pathetic excuse for a jewel?”

“Does the name Max Hallowell ring any bells?”

He shakes his head and makes a tsking sound. “You don’t remember Nathaniel? Truly?”

Nathaniel. I like that. Fits with the comic book T-shirts and Hulk tattoo. Nathaniel. “When I woke up in the hospital, I didn’t remember him at all. Now I only remember bits and pieces. I just want him to talk to me.”

He hums, noncommittal. “Change and meet me in the bathroom.” With a flourish, he shuts the doors behind him and leaves me alone in the brightly lit closet.

I like Jamaal enough that I decide to follow his directions rather than questioning him. I strip out of my clothes and pull the red dress overhead. It’s too small for me, but he chose a dress that stretches nicely, and after a bit of yanking and tugging, it covers my hips almost respectably. I spot a pair of matching red heels on the shoe rack and grin when I see that they’re my size. I might feel uncomfortable in this dress, but I love shoes. I’ve always loved shoes. Shoes always fit.

My phone buzzes in my purse and I pull it out to see a new text.

Nix: You need to call me. STAT.

I don’t want to talk to anyone from home right now. I can’t handle the sympathy I know they want to deliver.

When I exit the closet, I don’t have a chance to look for the bathroom before Jamaal is whistling at me—à la calling Fido, not à la catcall—and waving me into another room.

I gasp as I step into the glitzy bathroom. Glitz is the only word for it. Marble and glass, mirrors and crystal. It’s a large, shining space that’s too over the top to belong on anything but an episode of Cribs.

“If you’re going to stand there with your mouth hanging open, at least turn to me so I can touch you up while you gawk.”

I obey, and Jamaal’s large hands begin applying mascara, blush, and lip gloss in a rather expert way. When he’s done, I can only blink at myself in the mirror. In less than three minutes, he managed to transform me from Plain Jane to one of the LA-caliber women I saw milling at the airport.

“Wow.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s hurry down to the pool and find that fool man of yours before he does something really stupid.”

“He’s not my man, Jamaal.”

He snorts in reply and leads me back out into the hallway, but instead of taking the stairs that brought us up here, he leads me to the back of the hall and opens a door to a small, narrow set of stairs.

“Be careful in those heels.” When we hit the bottom, Jamaal points the way toward the back door. “There you go, kiddo. He’s out there making an ass of himself.”

I study the large French doors and the scantily clad women beyond. Some of them are dressed like I am now, in dresses and heels. Others are in bikinis and sarongs. Others still in bikinis and heels. Because bitches and hos, I guess.

They’re all painted and more beautiful than I will ever be without surgical enhancement. Knowing I’m going to step out there like I’m one of them makes my stomach cramp painfully.

“You’ve got something none of those women have,” Jamaal says from behind me, as if reading my thoughts.

“What’s that?”

“A mind of your own, kid. Why do you think he likes you so much?” He tilts up my chin and studies my face in the light. “You really don’t remember? That’s not just a bunch of bullshit?”

“I really don’t. Did I come here a lot?”

He shrugs. “A couple of times.”

My gaze drifts back toward the door and the music trickling in from outside. Someone screeches, and I hear a splash.

“What am I going to do if he won’t talk to me?”

Jamaal shrugs. “Janelle will call. We’ll get her to help. He can’t say no to her.”