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“It’s a long story,” I said. “Stop it, Ian. Xavier explained everything. I have to believe him.”
“He’s playing you, Rachel. I can’t believe you can’t see it. It’s all a show.” Ian walked over to me and took the file from my hand. “Ever since we were in New Orleans for the wedding—when X saw you leave that witch doctor’s house—he’s been putting on this routine. Trying to pretend he’s something he’s not.”
“Saw me? X saw me at Tante Heru’s?” My mind went back to that night in the Quarter. Kete’s breasts in my face. Tante Heru. The knocking at the window. “I was alone. He never said anything about seeing me.”
“He came to my room and he told me he saw you down in the quarter at a roots woman’s house.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” I asked.
“I don’t know. What happened there?”
I remembered everything I said to Tante Heru—my prayer said aloud to the spirits in the corners. In my mind, I looked around the room. Remembered it all. Was he there? In the window? Did he hear me? I was the fool. I was the Big Easy fool. If Xavier heard what I said at Tante Heru’s, then he—the art, the music, the hugs, how he held me? Lies? I couldn’t think of it.
“I have a client coming in soon,” I said, wiping tears with my sleeve.
“No, you don’t.”
I looked at Ian. “Fine. Well, I just need you to leave.”
Ian came in right up on me. I could smell his cologne. See the little hairs growing above his lip.
“You don’t know what you need,” he said.
“You don’t either,” I said.
Ian grabbed my shirt. There was this aggressive intensity and passionate determination in his eyes. “You told me you loved me,” he said.
“Yeah, I did. That was then—in New Orleans.”
“You told me you loved me before. Say it again,” he demanded.
“No.”
“Say it again.”
“No. No, I won’t.”
“Well, I love you.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t say that!”
“I love you. I love you, Rachel. I love you.” Each time he said it, he grabbed me tighter. “I love you. I want to be with you.”
“What?” I started struggling to get away from him. “This is fucking crazy. Get the fuck off of me.”
Ian would not let me go.
He grabbed my arms and held me right in front of him.
“I love you,” he said. “I love you. I love you.”
I looked away.
“Look into my eyes.” He shook me. “Look at me. I love you. And you love me, too.”
I couldn’t say anything.
“You love me, too.”
