Stuck-Up Suit
“Graham? Are you alright?”
“Everything is fine, Meme.”
“You don’t normally call me on a Thursday.”
“I know.”
“What’s going on? You seemed preoccupied last Sunday. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Well, what is it?”
Letting out a deep breath, I cut to the chase. “Am I a bad person?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
“There’s this…woman I’ve been seeing. She seems to distrust me. And I have to wonder if there’s a legitimate reason for that. Maybe I’m not good for her. Maybe I’m not good for anyone.”
Never one to mince words, Meme laughed and said, “You do have a tendency to be a dick, sweetheart. But from what you tell me, that’s par for the course when it comes to your business dealings. Dealing with a woman, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game. And you’ve certainly played the field…”
“That’s the thing. I have…but this one is different. It feels different. I don’t even know how to explain it. It makes no sense, really. We’re nothing alike at all. She’s from Brooklyn…an Italian, hot-tempered, loose cannon with multi-colored hair. She calls me out on stuff. She can even be downright mean sometimes. Yet…I can’t get enough of her. But I can tell she doesn’t trust me. I don’t know how to get through to her.”
Meme snorted. “I’m assuming by get through…you also mean she hasn’t allowed you to have your way with her?”
“She hasn’t allowed anything to happen in that area, no.”
“You’re just not used to women keeping their legs closed. There is such a thing as a lady with self-respect, you know. I think I like this girl.”
I sighed into the phone as she continued.
“It takes time to see people for who they really are. You need to be yourself and have patience, and eventually, she will see the real you.”
“But what if the real me isn’t good for her? What if I’m toxic?”
“Who said that?”
“I don’t know if I am capable of love anymore…”
“Just the fact that you even care, Graham, is a good sign. If it’s the right person, we’re all capable of it. You fell in love with that Genevieve, didn’t you?”
Just the mention of her name made my stomach sour.
“Look where that got me.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you’ve been trying so hard to control everything, intentionally picking the wrong people, just so you won’t get hurt. And now you’re starting to believe that you’re incapable of anything more. You’re beginning to believe your own lies.”
“Maybe.”
“I think this girl…what’s her name?”
“Soraya…”
“Soraya…huh…pretty.”
I closed my eyes and twirled my watch around my wrist. “She is.”
“Anyway, I think this girl is a wake-up call for you, that we don’t always have control over things. Just go with the flow. Let things happen on their own. Give up control. But more importantly, for God’s sake, don’t be an asshole.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “I’ll keep that in mind, Meme.”
The realization hit that Soraya was definitely not the first woman in my life to tell it like it is.
CHAPTER 9
SORAYA
AVOIDING GRAHAM OVER THE PAST COUPLE OF DAYS had been really difficult, but I felt like I needed to step back for my own good. The truth was, I couldn’t trust myself. Any little bit of contact might have pushed me over the edge. It was bad enough I thought about him all day and pleasured myself to images of him at night. For all I knew, the second I gave in, he would be gone. And I didn’t want this to end. I loved the excitement of wondering what he’d say or do, wondering what would happen next. I couldn’t risk giving in too soon and losing this feeling…or losing him. I hated that a part of me still felt like he might disappear once we slept together.
Nevertheless, I was prepared for it whenever it might happen because I didn’t really trust myself around him. Even though I vowed not to have sex with him yet, I made sure my legs were shaved and that I was wearing the laciest lingerie I had. I also made sure my birth control was up to date.
I poured orange juice and rum into the punch bowl that sat atop the buffet table we’d set up in the tattoo shop. Delia had hung up festive red Christmas lights as decorations even though it wasn’t the holidays. Bob Marley was playing while she set out some appetizers. Tig was still working on the last customer in the back before closing for the party. A makeshift bar was stationed in the corner with our friend, Leroy, serving as both the bartender and DJ.