Lift Me Higher (2 page)

“M
ama, I already told you that I’m done with the commercials and, for now at least, the stage. I’m concentrating on television and movie scripts, period. Why can’t you get that?”

Torie stabbed at a piece of lettuce in the Cobb salad in front of her and glared at her mother. It was just after two o’clock in the afternoon and the two women were seated inside of Braserie, a French restaurant in midtown, having a late lunch.

“Torie, I just don’t want to see you put all of your eggs in one basket,” Brenda replied.

“Mama, if I want to be successful at this, I have to focus on one thing. I can’t commit to a theater production and still go out on casting calls.”

“But, Torie, you read all the time about how limited the roles are for black actresses in movies. I mean, honey, you have to face the fact that there are a lot of talented, pretty girls out there trying to land that next big movie.”

Torie took a deep breath. Dealing with her mother had always been a trial. No matter what Torie felt or wanted, it
seemed to her as if her mother’s sole purpose in life was to feel or want something different for her. For all of her childhood and much of her young adult life, Torie had acquiesced to her mother’s wishes, but no more. Torie had moved to New York from Atlanta with two purposes in mind—one, to establish her career, and two, to put some distance between her life and her mother’s controlling habits.

“Mama, can’t we just enjoy lunch…enjoy your visit and not get into this again? Just trust me for a change. I know what I’m doing, and besides, if it doesn’t work out, I can always get another commercial or play,” Torie said, looking at her mother imploringly.

Brenda Turner considered her daughter. There were times, like this one, where Brenda winced at the sight of her daughter. Torie was beautiful and, in her face, Brenda saw herself. In her youth, Brenda had been equally as stunning and, she felt, twice as ambitious. She’d wanted so much for herself and had planned on touring the world as a famous jazz singer. Brenda had thought that she could have it all—the career, the fame and the family. She’d married Torie’s father at twenty-one years old, despite her own mother’s misgivings. She’d been singing at local nightclubs in the southeast and had been putting together an arrangement to work with Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock on an upcoming collaboration. Her husband, Hanif Turner, was also involved in the music business as a saxophone player, although considered by most to be just a mediocre talent. Yet, they were happy and excited about their futures, and Hanif was very supportive of Brenda’s musical ambitions. That’s why when Brenda discovered that she was pregnant, neither of them was overjoyed. Due to irregular periods and virtually no symptoms, Brenda was almost six months along by the time she realized that she was expecting. Brenda’s dreams, along with her marriage, paid the price under the strain of caring for their child.

“I just want you to maximize on your opportunities while you still can,” Brenda said now, casting her eyes down to the grilled salmon and steamed asparagus in front of her.

The underlying message of Brenda’s statement was not lost on Torie. She’d always noticed the faraway look that came into her mother’s eyes when she was washing the dinner dishes, vacuuming or undertaking some other mundane task. Torie was still a relatively young child when she’d come to understand what that look on her mother’s face meant. Motherhood had been an unexpected hitch in her mother’s life plan. There was no way Brenda could have known that her first child, a boy named Miles by his young parents, would have been born with a congenital birth defect that they would spend the first five years of his life fighting. Torie was one year old when Miles succumbed to his disease and, by then, Brenda’s dreams of a career in music had shriveled up and died.

“Mama, please don’t worry. Trust me. I know what I’m doing. You’ll see,” Torie said, looking at her mother in a meaningful way.

“All right, well, tell me about these lawyers you hired. How was your meeting? Did you have a good feeling about them?” Brenda asked.

“Oh, the firm is one of the best—a lot of heavy hitters in the entertainment field. They’ve assigned a young woman, a junior associate, to work on my contracts, and I already like her. She’s current, yet very knowledgeable. She’s already made a lot of calls on my behalf, and I get the sense that she’s going to be a tough negotiator,” Torie answered, grateful for the change in subject.

“That sounds terrific, honey, but have you thought about this? Are you sure you want to go with a female? I mean, you know how this business is. Maybe a man might be more beneficial to you,” Brenda said.

Torie sighed beneath her breath, amazed at her mother’s perfected ability to put a negative spin on any subject. As she thought of a response that would put her caring but pessimistic mother at ease, a slow smile came to her face while her mind recalled the image of the tall, dark and scrumptious man she’d shared an elevator ride with that morning.

“What? What are you smiling about?” Brenda asked suspiciously.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about the fact that Cooper & Beardsley is home to more than its fair share of fine male attorneys. I should bring you with me the next time I go there and hook you up with one of those professional men, Mama.” Torie laughed.

“Me? Child, please. You know I’m not even studying no man. All that’s over with for me,” Brenda said.

“Mama, why do you say things like that? You’re a beautiful woman, and you’ve got a lot to offer a man. If you’d stop acting like you have one foot in the grave, you could—”

“Torie, I don’t want to talk about this again. Like I said, I am not interested in offering anybody anything. And just because you’re taking a very wise and necessary break from men right now, does not mean you should be concentrating on my personal life. Hook me up? Please. You just focus on your career and nothing else, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Torie said with another exaggerated under-the-breath sigh.

Torie was seven years old when her parents split up for the last time. It had been a tumultuous relationship, plagued by the resentment born of unfulfilled dreams. The couple had had one more child, a son they named Darius, but that wasn’t enough to save the relationship. Darius was still a toddler when their father moved, first out of the home and then out of Georgia. He eventually ended up in California, where he remarried. After that, they saw less and less of him, and she
watched as her mother grew more and more disinterested in romance altogether.

“Come on, Mama, let’s go do some shopping,” Torie said, purposely changing the subject.

“There are still quite a few stores that I can’t let you leave New York without hitting up.”

The women spent the afternoon trying on shoes and clothes at a variety of trendy boutiques. At various times, when each believed the other to be preoccupied with a dress or a pair of boots, they would get lost in their private thoughts. The faraway look that clouded Brenda’s eyes as she thought of herself on yesterday’s stages was matched by the one in Torie’s eyes as she dreamed of passionate kisses with a gorgeous man in a red tie.

M
onte dropped his PDA into the pocket of his briefcase as he moved past the vacant reception desk and toward the bank of elevators. He glanced at the Movado watch on his left wrist and issued a mild curse beneath his breath. He was late and the boys would already be in bed by the time he got home. He hated not being home for dinner and detested missing the opportunity to tuck them in after a few rounds of XterminatoR video game on the PS3 system. The fact that tonight’s holdup couldn’t be avoided due to a delayed international flight of one of his most prominent clients and a very long meeting did not make him feel any better.

Monte rubbed his forehead, glad that it was Friday night and he could look forward to a relaxing weekend with his sons. Tomorrow morning he planned to take them to the lake for the day where they’d get the canoe out if the weather was good and maybe do some fishing. He stepped into the elevator, pressed the button for the lobby and leaned back against a side wall. The doors began to close, but they stopped just before they met when a slender hand slid between them.
Monte looked, startled to see that the hand belonged to none other than Torie Turner.

“Ooh, I made it,” she said, moving into the elevator with a small hop.

Monte quickly depressed the open button until Torie was completely inside.

“Thank you.” She smiled.

“You’re welcome.” Monte smiled back.

Torie reached out and pressed the already-illuminated lobby button. The doors closed and the elevator began its descent. Torie stared at the buttons, fully aware of Monte’s eyes on her. From her peripheral she could see him studying her, and while an intense look like his should have made her nervous or uncomfortable, it didn’t. She refused, however, to allow herself to turn to meet his gaze, despite the fact that his eyes felt like magnets, drawing her own eyes to his.

Monte started to speak. He cleared his throat, parted his lips and the lights went out. The elevator lurched to a stop, propelling Torie into Monte.

“Oh,” she screamed.

“What the—” Monte began.

He caught Torie in one arm and steadied her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…yes. Whoa, that was scary. What’s happening?” she asked, her voice tinged with panic.

“I don’t know,” Monte answered. He reached out, fumbling with the buttons in an attempt to press the now-blackened one for the lobby. The elevator remained motionless and dark. He felt along the smooth panel again until he located the alarm. He pressed that button and the shrill sound rang out, causing Torie, who was still standing very close to Monte, to jump even closer.

“It’s okay. I’m just ringing the alarm to alert someone that we’re in here,” Monte said.

The rich timbre of Monte’s voice had an almost calming effect on Torie. Almost, because although it was a well-guarded secret, Torie was deeply afraid of the dark.

“Shouldn’t an emergency light come on or something?” she asked.

“You would think so, but I’m guessing maybe the power is out. I’m sure it’ll come on in a few minutes.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yeah, I’m sure of it. This is a state-of-the-art building and we’re constantly having elevator inspections and such. And even if it doesn’t come on, the lobby security will respond to the alarm,” Monte said.

He said these words even though he really wasn’t sure of any of it. But making others feel at ease in any situation was in Monte’s nature and it was a talent at which he was very good. It was what made him a loving father and son, and a superb lawyer. He could feel the anxiety radiating off of Torie, and the last thing they needed while trapped and suspended twenty-odd stories off of the ground was for her to get hysterical.

“Okay,” came Torie’s measured reply.

She accepted Monte’s rationale and allowed it to sink into her mind and racing heart. Of course he was right. This was, after all, the Time Warner building, located in the center of midtown Manhattan on a Friday night. This building and its personnel was equipped to deal with this type of emergency, and it would just be a matter of minutes before they were rescued. Torie inhaled a deep breath. She closed her eyes and allowed her muscles to relax. As her pulse slowed and the queasy feeling in her stomach began to subside, she became aware of how close to Monte she was still standing after having been thrown into him. Although she could not see his face and could only make out the outline of his form, her other senses kicked in, drawing her into his presence. She felt the warmth of his body next to hers and the scent of him, a
mixture of maleness and a heady aftershave toyed with her sense of smell. She suddenly felt wobbly again and reached out for him. Her hand found his strong forearm, and she clenched it.

“Maybe we should sit down,” Monte said, interpreting her move as a sign that she was unsteady on her feet, perhaps near fainting.

He quickly removed his suit jacket and laid it on the floor beside him. He felt for Torie’s elbow and then slowly guided her to the floor and onto his jacket. He slid down the wall beside her, loosening the knot in his tie. Monte stretched his long legs out in front of him and let out the deep sigh that he’d been holding in.

“This really sucks, doesn’t it?” Torie asked.

“Well, I guess you could say that it’s not my idea of how to spend a Friday night.” Monte chuckled.

He thought for a moment about his boys and his mother, who were at home in bed for sure. Cheryl, the nanny who looked after them while he worked, would probably call the office soon, to see how much longer he would be delayed. She’d have given his mother her sleeping pill and made sure the guardrails on her bed were in place. He’d had the bars installed a few months ago when his mother had either rolled off the bed or fallen while trying to get up. She’d broken her wrist when she’d hit the floor and now he made sure that she was secure in bed every night. Cheryl would begin to get worried soon and would then call both his cell and car phones. Monte felt around in the dark until he found his briefcase. He reached into the side pocket and retrieved his PDA.

“Humph, just like I thought. No signal,” he said.

All the device was able to provide was a sliver of light from the small screen when he depressed the power button.

“And then there was light,” Monte joked.

He lay the device onto his lap and let his head roll back against the elevator wall.

“So what would you be doing tonight if you weren’t trapped in this elevator?” Monte asked.

“Me? Uh, I’d probably be home, curled up on the sofa by now,” Torie answered.

“Yeah, right. On a Friday night in New York City? Come on, for real. What would you be doing?”

“I’m serious,” Torie cried. “I’d be watching
20/20
or whatever’s on right now. Ooh, and tonight was the season finale of
NCIS,
too. Shoot.”

“Listen to you, sounding like a regular couch potato.” Monte laughed.

“And what’s wrong with that? I happen to have a very nice couch, I’ll have you know,” Torie said over Monte’s raucous laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m sorry,” Monte said, putting his laughter in check. “It’s just that I can’t really picture you with curlers in your hair, flannel pajamas and a big bowl of popcorn,” Monte said, chuckling.

“You know, if you’re going to make fun of me, you could at least introduce yourself first.”

“Monte…Monte Lewis. I’d shake your hand, but I’m not sure where it is,” Monte said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Monte Lewis. I’m Torie…Turner.”

“I know who you are,” Monte responded. “Oh?”

“We, uh, actually shared an elevator a couple of weeks ago. You were coming up to the office to see Monica Schwartz. You’re an actress, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. Don’t tell me you’ve seen my work?” Torie asked.

Monte realized at that moment that he could lie and say, yes, he had. He could tell her that she was a terrific actress
and possibly score big points with her, but that wasn’t his style. He believed that when you start off telling one lie all you’re doing is setting yourself up for a dozen more lies to follow.

“No, I can’t say that I have. What have you done?”

In the darkness, Torie’s smile broadened. She hated when she met people who, immediately upon learning that she was an actress, pretended to recognize her. Someday she was certain that she would be a face that people knew immediately, but that day was not here yet. Torie Turner’s was not an ego that needed to be stroked with false praise. She found Monte’s honesty refreshing.

“Well, let’s see. There was that mouthwash commercial last winter. Then there was the Reynolds Wrap foil spot around the holidays. And my personal favorite, the genital herpes medicine gig.” Torie laughed. “Pretty impressive résumé, huh?”

“I guess I don’t watch much TV,” Monte said apologetically.

“I’m just teasing; that’s not all I’ve done. There have also been a couple of small theater productions in Atlanta and in Philadelphia. But all that is about to change.”

“Change is good,” Monte said.

Several minutes of silence ensued before either spoke again. Monte was reminded of his first date with Shawna and how comfortable he’d felt with her, as though they’d already known each other for a lifetime. That same sense of familiarity had come over him now, and he secretly thanked whatever higher power had orchestrated this dilemma for him.

“Is it getting warm in here to you?” Torie asked suddenly.

She didn’t wait for an answer before unbuttoning the top two buttons of her blouse and removing the lightweight leather jacket she wore. She knew that her nerves were shot, which
probably attributed to the warm flush that had invaded her flesh.

“Yeah, definitely warm,” Monte said, removing his tie altogether.

“So, Monte, what fun and exciting evening are you missing out on?” she wanted to know.

Monte talked animatedly about his sons and their weekend plans. Without offering much detail, he told Torie that since becoming a single parent, he dedicated his weekends to activities with his boys and found their outings to be the perfect break from work and the other demands of life. Surprised and intrigued by this revelation, she asked how he managed to care for two boys on his own and he told her that his boys had a middle-aged woman named Cheryl, who was the best nanny, cook and housekeeper in the world, caring for them. She wanted to ask about the boys’ mother, but she didn’t want to be obvious.

Hours passed as they opened up about their respective childhoods, sharing stories of playground mishaps and adolescent insecurities. Torie laughed raucously at Monte’s jokes, vulnerable to his understated yet undeniable sense of humor. Their conversation had its serious moments when Monte shared his concerns over his mother, who was ailing, and Torie talked about the hole created in her life by her father’s absence. However, those moments were cathartic for both of them, as they felt unexplainably comfortable sharing such intimacies in the secluded space of their private bubble. After being caught up in a cozy tête-à-tête, it was finally Monte’s growling stomach that reminded them both that they hadn’t eaten since midday. Monte reached into his right pants pocket.

“All I’ve got is a half pack of Doublemint gum. How about you?”

Torie sifted through her Dooney and Bourke giraffe print.

“I’ve got a few orange-flavored Tic Tacs mints and I think…yes, here it is. A half a roll of Mentos candies,” she exclaimed excitedly.

Despite his efforts to keep Torie calm, Monte had begun to grow uneasy himself. There had been no contact from security and it seemed as if no one knew that they were trapped in the elevator. He began to consider the possibility of them running out of air, but quickly chided himself for being silly. That was probably the last thing that could happen to them.

“We’re going to starve to death,” Monte said half-jokingly.

“No, we’ll probably get dehydrated first. It takes the human body about thirty days to starve after the cells feed off of one another,” Torie answered.

“That’s encouraging.” Monte chuckled.

“Sorry. Here,” Torie said, offering Monte a handful of chewy peppermint Mentos candy.

Their fingers bumped as Torie placed the candy in his hand. The contact sent a charge through Monte as it had done every time their shoulders or sides had touched over the past couple of hours. He liked being near her, listening to the softness of her voice when she spoke or the sound of her breathing when they were silent.

They polished off the candies in minutes and their hunger seemed to be cranked up a notch in spite of it.

“Well, at least we’ll have fresh breath while our bodies dry out.” Torie laughed.

Her face was turned toward his and he felt a burst of minty air hit his cheek. On impulse, he angled toward her, leaning forward until he was inches away from her. She did not move away, nor did she speak. His stomach muscles contracted and he held his breath. The next move was his, and his heart raced
at the thought of kissing that beautiful mouth and having her respond in kind.

He hesitated, all sorts of thoughts running through his mind. There was always the possibility that his advance would be unwanted. Yet, the urge was too compelling for Monte to back away from it. He brushed his lips lightly across Torie’s mouth and the quivering in his stomach only intensified. He covered her lips and, to his surprise, she parted to receive him, allowing his tongue to melt into the softness of her candy-coated mouth. She leaned her body into his, and he slid his arm around her torso, securing her against him. Monte had not allowed himself to think about how much he missed the feel of a woman in his arms, but suddenly he was overwhelmed with a sense of longing for feminine suppleness. If he had not known it before, this moment confirmed for him the fact that it was a woman’s touch that made him feel most like a man.

Monte shifted his weight, drawing Torie closer to him. A soft purr escaped from her lips and was lost inside of his mouth. He reached out in the darkness, his hand finding her shoulder. He rubbed through the material of her blouse and wished that he could touch her skin. Instinctively, he knew that it was soft, covering toned limbs. He moved his hand up to her face, running two fingers along the line of her cheekbone. His hand slid to the nape of her neck and caressed silky hair. He gently pushed her head closer to him, wanting to devour her.