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I check my watch for the time and wince. It’s almost eleven PM. “Sorry I texted so late. Hope you can get back to sleep.”
“I wasn’t sleeping. Lola and Haley are here.”
I laugh. “Well, let me not keep you from your orgy.”
“You want to join us? They wouldn’t mind.”
“Yeah, but I would. Night, Dave.”
“My man…all grown up and shit.” He’s still laughing when I hang up and hurry to get into the warm lobby of my building. He’s the most talented musician I’ve ever met and is considered this generation’s greatest violinist. He’s got an amazing, close knit family, and looks like he just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad. He’s also the most loyal and dependable friend I’ve ever had. I know all his friends feel that, too.
But he lives the most debauched lifestyle - he’s banned from several hotels in this city because he’s been known to leave his rooms wrecked. He has a short fuse and doesn’t walk away from a fight. If I didn’t recognize the loneliness in his face, I’d think what the rest of the world does - that he’s reckless and irresponsible.
“Carter?” I stop in my tracks and turn back toward the entrance.
Porsha walks toward me with a huge smile on her face. I smile, surprised to see her, but definitely glad, too. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.” She holds up a paper bag. “I came to the Milk Bar and saw you get out of the car. I came in to wait while you finished your phone call. I hope that’s okay.” She bites her lip and smiles up at me through her thick lashes. God, she has terrible timing. Or maybe, not. Maybe this is just what I needed.
I haven’t seen her since that disastrous visit to her place, but we’ve been in touch a lot over the last year. “Yeah, it’s great. Come on. Let’s go up.” She holds my eyes as if trying to gauge my meaning.
“Come on,” I prod. She takes it and we head to the elevator.
“You coming from a gig or something?”
I use my free hand to loosen my tie. “No, a fundraiser.”
“You look good, Carter. Like life is treating you well.” she remarks.
I give her a side long glance. Her cocoa brown skin glows even on a frigid night like this. Her full, shapely lips are slick with a nude gloss and her signature braids are flecked with melting snowflakes that look like crystals in the light. She’s beautiful and there’s no mistaking the interest in her eyes. Yes, I need this.
“You look good, too.” I brush a few locks off her shoulder and she tilts her head and studies me.
I grin. ”Trying to read my mind?”
She doesn’t return my smile. “I’m just wondering if you mean it, or if you’re trying to convince yourself
I draw away and let go of her hand. “Of course I mean it. Why else would I say it?”
The elevator signals its arrival and she turns to face the opening doors and steps on without answering.
I follow her. “Why else would I say it?” I demand when she still doesn’t answer me.
She shrugs. “So, you’re over her?”
I blink in surprise at her question and my heart starts thudding. I’m not sure I’ll ever be over her, but it doesn’t matter. I have to move on.
I reach for her hand, raise it to my lips for a kiss and say what I hope I can one day mean. “Yes.”
49
Beth
/> Lies and the liars who tell them
“You’re a nice young man. Too many tattoos for my taste, but your generation is different,” Joe says by way of his final parting as Carter and I get ready to leave.
He called for the address this morning as promised and was here at 1pm on the dot. Joe made his famous chili and cornbread. Carter brought him a bottle of Johnny Walker 18 and a coffee table book on the history of music in Brooklyn.
