Intensity (14 page)

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Authors: C.C. Koen

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BOOK: Intensity
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Not sure I wanted the conversation focused on me right now, I remained fixed on my original target. “He’s here every night. I mean, he’s—”

Before I could finish, she cut me off. “If you’re referring to his sexual appetite, yeah, you’ll see him
all the time
,” she rushed out, emphasizing the frequency and cementing an image of the bad boy engaged in hot and heavy deeds in the same breath. Dammit, I didn’t want him in my head that way. “He’s got tons of money to throw around. His gramps left him a trust fund he’s intent on blowing on every girl in this place, except for me of course, and you,” she clarified in a hurry.

Goodness, should I tell her about his full-blown efforts to get me in bed? I set my empty bowl down and glanced at her. She scooped them both up and yelled over her shoulder as she walked inside. “You want more to eat? I have some sushi in the fridge for lunch. We need healthy munchies to cancel out the bad calories.”

It might help, so I agreed. I needed something good to cancel out—bad Jax.

Cement pounding below my feet, lungs huffing, head clearer than it had been in weeks, a five-mile jog had been the perfect way to start the day. Seagulls dashed into the bay, searching for their bounty. The whistling breeze, a perfect combination of warmth with a dash of cool felt wonderful against my sweaty flesh. The boardwalk this time on a Sunday morning included quite a few runners and bikers enjoying the shoreline. Most of them wearing headphones or earbuds, but not me. I loved every sound. The water, people, boats, everything. It calmed me. Regardless of what happened in my life, running had always helped set or reset the tone to a positive one. It had become a regular habit to spend at least a portion of my time outdoors.

Accepting this job five weeks ago brought a number of surprises—an angel—Mylaynee. After the amusement park outing, Miss Chatty Pants blabbed to the other servers about our excursion. From that moment on Paulette, Fallon, and Sage joined us. We hung out as much as possible. The Fab Five, as Mylaynee called us, were inseparable. It stuck and couldn’t be a more perfect description of our combined personalities.

An activity Gram and I often did to “spread the sunshine” brought our group to the local children’s hospital, reading, and making crafts, and just having fun with the kids. A nonverbal challenge commenced at that moment. The next week, Fallon decided we’d volunteer at the local homeless shelter. Mylaynee chose the “Best Buddies” organization, spending our day with disabled adults. Paulette wanted us to go to a nursing home. After I told her about the one Gram’s girlfriends lived at, we ended up there. It had been a while since I’d visited, and having my new friends with me made it extra special. Sage chose the local animal shelter because she wanted to be a vet. Since she hadn’t fulfilled that dream yet, she wanted us to contribute to their care in some way.

Sunday night became movie time. Choosing from Mylaynee’s vast collection, we each threw one in a bag, and selected two. It caused a lot of razzing, but in the end added to the fun. Last week, Mylaynee announced our volunteer time would be known as “Sunshine Sundays” in honor of my gram. I bawled like a baby. Spending time with them had been an excellent ego boost. They were a dust-off-your-pants, get-back-out-there bunch. The only girlfriends I’d ever had, I cherished our time together. Beautiful women on the inside and out, they became my saving grace. Without them, I don’t think I would’ve gotten through the disastrous B.B. incidents.

Linc continued to disappear on our days off. Most of the time I didn’t see him again until Monday evenings. My heart told me one thing, my mind another, and my body screamed directives that screwed them both up. He spent the other nights with me, however nothing progressed any further. B.B. could be why he kept his distance. I had a strange feeling though, intuition maybe, that something else was going on with him. I could ask, but my conflicting feelings, along with risking getting fired and losing a hefty income, kept me in reserve mode. Holding it all inside created gut-wrenching tension. Add in to the mix, the conversation I overheard between Linc and Jax weeks ago produced another wake up call. I kept readjusting, reminding myself of my goals. It became a daily mantra, and if anyone heard me chanting
stay focused, don’t let anyone get in your way, you can do it
every morning in the mirror, they’d die from laughter.

When difficult times hit, it amazed me where strength came from. Determined to do what I needed to, I garnered support from multiple places. Paychecks continued to roll in. Creditors were happy and my “in the red” debt ratio got smaller each week. Granted, I had a long way to go, but the strides I made served as a pick-me-up too. Bartending until wee hours of the morning didn’t help with loss of sleep, but the enjoyment I got from watching and playing with the Millers’ kids made up for it. Bookkeeping always rejuvenated me. It kept memories of Gram at the forefront and preoccupied the remainder of my daylight hours. It didn’t matter how busy I got, I loved working. Less time to worry about other things that would only upset me.

Monique had finished renovating my apartment. All new furnishings indoors, including a luxurious lounge set for the balcony. Bamboo flooring throughout and sea-green walls gave it a serene feel. Decorative knick-knacks, a combination of antiques and contemporary pieces, embodied my style perfectly, even though I had no idea what it was myself. She created a harmonious balance, including pieces of furniture similar to the ones I grew up with and modern selections that suited my personality, making the place feel like home. She even made sure I got a cushy couch like Linc’s. Any free second, I had my butt on it with a book in hand.

Now though, relief came in the form of a 5K. Two steps at a time, I barreled up the back stairwell. The last stretch before I fell into a cold and refreshing shower. Not a foot from my door and it burst open, my heart lodging in my throat.

Decked out in a Vera Bradley floral sarong she’d purchased on one of our jaunts last week, Mylaynee had a glorious smile stretched ear to ear. Her eager palms rubbing told me she was up to no good. What the heck?

“I’ve been waiting two hours for you.” Her smile vanished as she glanced at her Brighton bracelet watch. Another recent buy.

Palms pressed to my knees, I sucked down massive gulps of air, attempting to recover from the jaunting three-story dash. Dang it, if I didn’t love her to death, I’d bulldoze over her to get some water. Soaked head to toe, I needed relief and quick, but she stood sentry at my door. Her hip-holding posture and narrowed eyes cast a miffed attitude at me.

“Did I forget something?” I expelled each word on a short breath, inhaling and exhaling faster than normal. Damn, I’d pushed it hard, punishing my body on purpose. It worked too, easing my twisting emotions. Until now.

Her foot tap, tap, tapping and crossed arms answered me. When I glanced up, Mylaynee swung my apartment door shut and leaned her back against it.

What in the world was going on?

I straightened up from my bent position and waved my hand back and forth. “Are you gonna move so I can get in there?”

All of a sudden Mylaynee’s smile returned, followed in quick succession with three raps on the door. I stepped forward while she moved backward, opening it.

“Happy birthday, Serena!” Paulette held at least a half-dozen-balloon bouquet, containing various exclamations. Sage tilted forward a sheet cake with vibrant turquoise, gold, and lime-green icing and well wishes on top. Fallon, arms full of decorative foil gift bags and wrapped boxes. Mylaynee wrapped an arm around my back, squeezing my hip, and pecked me on the cheek, calling out, “Surprise.”

Particular moments reminded me of life’s blessings: love, friendship, and selfless acts. They transcended words and renewed a person’s spirit. Consumed in so many other things, I’d forgotten today’s date. Heart alight, I placed a quick kiss to Mylaynee’s temple, careful not to cover her in my sweat. The gesture repeated on the cheer line awaiting my regards.

After I took a quick shower, we piled into Paulette’s car and ventured into New York City to one of the many spas. Another treat the girls planned. It turned out to be a relaxing event, complete with a hot stone massage, EmerginC facial, Moroccan rose organic body scrub, Argan manicure and pedicure, and a Samadi healing ceremony. A holistic, naturalist approach that had Mylaynee stamped all over it.

Peace and serenity infused in every fiber of my being.

Exactly what I needed.

Gifts unwrapped, half a cake gone, and on our second flick, we vegetated on any available surface in Mylaynee’s apartment. Sage pegged it as Classic Film Night. Tonight for our viewing pleasure,
On the Waterfront
with Marlon Brando and
Some Like it Hot
with Marilyn Monroe. A huge Brando fan, Mylaynee got lucky when her choice was selected, and the one I picked with Marilyn also made it. Who didn’t love Monroe?

Our snacks expanded too. Popcorn now included Goober chocolates. Paulette’s contribution and concoction—the bomb!

Before I realized it, the screen credits had rolled by and the cleaning commenced. Paulette, Sage, and Fallon bid good night while I stayed behind, reluctant to return to my empty apartment. Mylaynee washed dishes, and I dried. “You heard from him?”

Crap. How did I know she’d go there? I mumbled, “Nope.”

She handed me a dish and prompted, “Did he do anything for your birthday?”

I stacked the dried plates and cups in the cabinet and shrugged at the long shot. “It wasn’t on my mind, so I doubt he knew.”

Silverware in hand, she rinsed and questioned, “Have you asked him what’s going on yet?”

“I’m afraid to. My heart might not be able to take it.” I dried my hands on a towel and passed it to her. We finished in the kitchen and settled on the couch, continuing the heart-to-heart.

“I’m embarrassed to tell you this.” After a pause that seemed an eternity I confessed, “We haven’t had sex. I think it’s because he’s with B.B.” Mylaynee shook her head, but I was on a roll and couldn’t stop expelling my pent-up frustration. My face buried in my hands, I muttered, “What’s he doing with me?” Pieces of my heart scattered everywhere, I gazed at her and pleaded, “
To me?
” She reached out, but I got up and paced in front of the TV. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Have no clue how to handle a man like him.” I flicked through a few DVD cases, pretending to study them. As I picked up the next one, her hand pressed on top of mine and pulled me into a comforting embrace.

I took a few steps back, but held onto her arms, unearthing my painful past for the first time. “Do you know what it’s like not to be wanted? My mother didn’t. She left me
after birth. Twenty-two years and I’ve never met her.” Her mouth dropped open. Not giving her a chance to interrupt, my explanation turned heartfelt. “Gram took me in. Filled my life with love and acceptance in more ways than one. But something happened—” I choked on the rest.

Returning to the couch, I tucked my legs up, wrapping my arms around them in a protective ball. She joined me, rubbing my back in a soothing way. I stared at the door and attempted to gather my overwrought thoughts. “My grandmother was the sweetest, kindest person you could ever meet. It didn’t matter who you were. If you came to her and asked for anything, she’d give it to you without question. And she loved to cook and bake. We always did that together. She taught me so much.” A thousand images of her flashed in my mind in a colorful kaleidoscope.

“But there’s—a void.” My chest constricted and in the next breath, I expelled with vehemence. “Not for my mother.” I laid my hand on my heart and expressed with passionate conviction. “For
someone
right here.” Her eyes filled with tears. She took hold of the same hand and wove our fingers together.

“Linc and I don’t know each other well, but there’s something there. I can
feel
it.” My head pounding, I dropped it along the back of the couch and whispered, “Do you believe in fate?”

She nodded with a tender smile, almost like she’d gotten lost in thought herself.

“Me too,” I crooned.

Her hand squeezed mine, and with the other she wiped her eyes. “Your friendship means so much to me. I love that you’re here, Serena.” She nudged my shoulder with hers. “You’re my girl, right?”

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