Looking For Trouble (2 page)

Chapter 2

 

 

“O
h no,” Alexandria softly whispered, trying to hide her discomfort. Her body tensed, anticipating the annoyance that was about to come.
This can't be happening again. Not now,
she thought.

“What's wrong?” Peter whispered back, still continuing to nibble on the left lobe of Alexandria's ear.

She moved her head to the side, trying to block out the sound that was making its way back into her mind.
Go away! Please go away and leave me alone!
Alexandria shouted to herself as she repositioned her nude body under the weight of Peter's muscular heft. She turned her head back to face him, releasing a low, measured sigh.

“You okay?” Peter asked; this time, there was a bit of concern in between his heavy panting.

“I'm fine,” Alexandria lied. She hesitated; then slowly pulled him closer against her bare chest. “Kiss me,” she demanded in a not-so-playful tone. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes tightly, and concentrated on her boyfriend's languid tongue as she tried to block out the voice—laced with a deep Southern accent—that was invading her head.

Although she knew that her love life with Peter was woefully lacking, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd had an orgasm, Alexandria had hoped that a quick roll between the sheets would give her mind a break from the recurring loop it had been stuck in. But instead of arresting her anxiety, the physical romp only seemed to kick her senses into overdrive.

As Peter's movements became more urgent, her desire began to quickly wane by the second, sinking into the background of the voice repeating itself inside her head. She tried to concentrate on the moment, but that didn't work, so she willed her mind to take her to another place. But that was no use, either. The harder she fought, the louder the sound of the voice grew. Finally she gave up.

“Peter, I'm sorry, but I have to go.” Alexandria gently pushed him away, freeing herself from his hold.

“What?” Peter huffed, looking confused. “You've gotta be kidding me.”

“No, I really do need to go,” she said as she sat up and kicked her long, slightly thick legs to the side of his king-size bed. She ran her fingers through the mass of long, kinky dark brown curls atop her head as she slumped her shoulders in frustration.

“One minute you want me to kiss you and the next you're pushing me away. What gives?”

“I'm sorry, Peter. I don't mean to send mixed signals.”

“Then don't.” Peter paused as he moved in close, still trying to nuzzle his body next to hers. He leaned into her, giving her shoulder a light kiss. “C'mon, lay back down with me.”

Alexandria ignored his coaxing; instead, she slowly stood to her feet as she spoke. “It's not you. It's me,” she told him, knowing how off-putting and clichéd her response, albeit truthful, sounded. She could feel thick tension rise in the air as soon as the words left her mouth, so she tried to speak in a gentle tone. “There's a lot going on in my life right now. Things that have nothing to do with you, Peter.”

“I don't believe this.” Peter reluctantly reached for his boxers as Alexandria pulled her sundress over her head and then slid it down the length of her curvaceous body. “So where does this leave me?” he asked.

She wanted to tell him,
How the hell do I know? I can't even figure out what's going on in my own life, let alone yours.
But she knew this wasn't the time for such declarations, so she leavened her tone, inserting a measure of compassion in her voice. “I need to be alone tonight so I can think.”

“Think? . . . Think about what, Alexandria?”

“Life, and what I'm supposed to do with mine. Like I said, there's so much going on right now. I hope you can understand.”

Peter shook his head in dismay. “I've been trying hard to understand you, especially over the last couple weeks. I've been patient when you zone out on me, and I've tried to be understanding when you say you have a lot going on, like now, even though you never give a clue about exactly what the problem is.”

Alexandria looked into Peter's dark brown eyes and nodded, knowing he deserved to hear the full truth: She was so scared about what was happening to her that she didn't have time to focus on their relationship. But at the same time, she knew Peter's primary focus was really on himself and his feelings—because not once had he asked her what kinds of things were bothering her.

She'd met Peter two years ago while working as a summer intern at Johnson, Taylor, and Associates, one of the largest law firms in the Atlanta Metro area. She'd been in her last year of law school at UPenn, and somewhat ambivalent about pursuing a career in the legal field. Peter had just graduated from Yale University School of Law, was an ambitious first-year associate at the firm, and was already rumored to be a rising star within the ranks. Although he was a bit uptight and a little too formal in his attitude than what Alexandria liked, Peter's tall, muscular physique, smooth dark chocolate skin, and handsome face had all attracted her to him. They had spotted each other during the first day of new employee orientation and had gone out for drinks during happy hour a week later.

They'd both been seeing other people at the time, but neither had been seriously involved. Their casual lunches and long dinners slowly turned into much more. They kept in touch after she returned to law school for her senior year, and they saw each other whenever time permitted, which wasn't often. Once she graduated the next summer they started dating exclusively, and had been together ever since.

“Who is he?” Peter asked.

“What?”

“Please, Alexandria,” Peter said, looking at her with an accusatory glare. “Don't play me for a fool. If you're seeing someone else, I'd appreciate you being up front with me instead of feeding me excuses.”

“Oh, like you and Monica?”

Peter let out an exasperated sigh. “I told you, that was nothing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I can't help it if the woman showed up on my doorstep out the blue.”

“Excuse me, but it makes a difference when
the woman
you're referring to, just happened to be your ex-girlfriend! And for someone who mysteriously showed up unwelcome, you sure did make her feel at home,” Alexandria said, returning his accusing stare. “I got here and found you two drinking wine and laughing, acting all cozy.”

“Number one, we weren't cozy. We were simply talking,” Peter said in a direct tone. “She was depressed because the guy she was seeing had just dumped her. She needed someone to talk to and—”

“And you were the first person she went running to,” Alexandria countered. “I think that's very strange, especially given the fact that you dumped her, too. So why on earth would she come to you for a shoulder to cry on? It didn't make sense then, and it still doesn't make sense now.”

Until last month when Alexandria had caught Peter and his ex in that precarious situation, he hadn't given her much reason to question his fidelity. He was a pragmatist who preferred diplomacy over drama, and he avoided the latter at all costs. Having extra women on the side only upped the ante for chaos, and Peter wasn't one for the kind of trouble that fooling around could bring. He was the dependable type, almost to the point of being predictably annoying. Because of his anal manner, a small part of Alexandria believed that even if Peter wanted to stray, it would be challenging for him, given the fact that he also spent most of his time at the office.

Peter routinely worked twelve- and fourteen-hour days, sometimes six days a week, all in his self-imposed race to climb the ladder of success, following in his mother's large and looming footsteps. She was a circuit court judge and was currently being courted to run for one of Georgia's congressional seats. She was a demanding overachiever, and Peter wanted to make her proud, which meant working insanely long hours and forfeiting a social life beyond networking functions, where he could make business connections. When he wasn't at the office—which was hardly ever—he was either working from home, working out at the gym, or spending what little time he had left over with Alexandria.

But Alexandria also knew that just because Peter was a busy, regimented man, that didn't mean there weren't opportunities for him to cheat, or that he wasn't capable. Experience had taught her that regardless of one's work schedule and personal demands, a person could make time to do anything they really wanted. The only reason she hadn't followed up on the suspicions lurking in the back of her mind was because of the voice that had been penetrating her thoughts, forcing her to come to grips with a part of her life she'd been trying to avoid since she was five years old.

“I know it doesn't make sense to you,” Peter said, “but that's exactly what happened when Monica came over here. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm telling you the truth.”

Alexandria shrugged. “Whose truth?”

“If I wanted to sleep with her, I could've done that a long time ago.”

“And that's another thing. Why do you still keep in contact with your ex-girlfriend?”

Peter let out another frustrated sigh. “We only talk once in a blue moon, like at the holidays, just to wish each other well.”

“And why is that even necessary?”

“It's not. It's just a polite gesture. Besides, if I was trying to hide something, trust me, you'd never know that I'd had any contact with her at all.” Peter pulled his T-shirt over his broad chest and taut waist. “But listen, my ex—whom I have absolutely no interest in—isn't the issue. Let's talk about our relationship.”

“What I'm going through right now has nothing to do with our relationship. Like I told you, it's about me.”

“Cut the shit, Alexandria.” Peter smirked. “Call me ‘crazy,' but I thought that when you're in a relationship with someone, everything that involves you involves the other person, too.”

Although she knew Peter's comment was absolutely right, she didn't like the sarcasm or nasty tone that was planted behind it. Deep down, she knew that he only half-meant what he'd just said. She'd slowly come to realize that he was a bit selfish, hence his “Where does this leave me?” remark. So she knew what he was saying now was clearly meant to draw out a reasonable explanation that would put his mind at ease about the possibility of her cheating on him.

“I hear what you're saying,” Alexandria responded, slipping on her turquoise-colored thong-toed sandals, “but this really is about me, and only me.”

“Okay, then what's bothering you?”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “This is the first time you've asked me about
me.
”

“No, it's not, but I won't waste time arguing that point right now. Tell me what's going on with you?”

She wanted so badly to call him on his lie, but she knew it would be a fruitless cause. “For one, I'm not happy with my career. I feel like I'm settling.” This part was true, and she didn't hesitate sharing it.

“You graduated in the top of your law school class and now you're a fast-rising associate at one of the most powerful lobbying firms in the city. You work closely with one of the senior partners, and they even handpicked you to present and testify before Congress last year, which got you that major raise you're enjoying now.”

“You act like you're giving me information that I don't already know.”

“Okay, since you already know that, you also know how many people would kill—and I mean that literally—to stand in your shoes.”

Alexandria looked down at her neatly polished toenails, then up at Peter. “I'm not concerned about other people. I'm talking about me, and what I really want. Being a performing artist is my calling. I've always known that, and now, every day, I feel it more than ever.”

“Why did you work so hard in law school if this wasn't what you wanted?”

“That's just it. I didn't work hard in law school at all. It came easy for me, just like high school and undergrad. I went through the motions and I did what I was expected to do. But now, I'm ready to pursue my passion like my mom did.”

Peter looked up at the ceiling. “Here we go with that again.”

“I'm one of the best spoken-word artists in the city—hell, in this region. Whenever I perform at the Lazy Day, people pack the house to hear me.”

“You know that's not a sustainable profession, don't you? What do you make doing that? Fifty dollars a night?”

“You know what . . .” Alexandria drew in a deep breath. “Never mind, I'm leaving.”

Feeling tired and frustrated, Alexandria didn't say another word. She gathered her handbag, picked up her leather overnight duffel, and walked toward the door.

“Hold on,” Peter said, gently clasping his hand around Alexandria's slender wrist. “I don't want you to leave like this . . . upset with me.”

“I'm not upset with you. Like I said, I need to be alone right now so I can clear my head.” She leaned into him, planted a small kiss on his right cheek, and told him she'd come by the next day.

 

Twenty minutes later, Alexandria found herself sitting alone on her couch in her small one-bedroom apartment, devouring a small bowl of Ben & Jerry's chocolate ice cream and three dark chocolate truffles from her Godiva box. Whenever she felt down and out, ice cream and chocolates always seemed to lift her spirits. The cold, chocolaty sweet taste tickled her tongue and almost made her forget about the voice that kept repeating the same words inside her head:
“I'm ready for the fight.”
The words were fragmented bits and pieces of a longer sentence that Alexandria couldn't fully understand.