Something's Come Up (15 page)

Once she was on her back, I slowly unwrapped her towel, marveling at the beauty before me. Great in bed? Yes. Fierce in her words and actions? You better believe it. But this woman had a pure, marble-carved beauty that I know even she didn’t see. I took the next hour and a half to show her with my body what I saw in hers.

When I woke the next morning, I was alone in a cold bed. I heard her blow dryer running in the bathroom, so I relaxed back on the down pillows with a contented sigh, recalling her breathless and tangled body in the sheets the night before. Her phone vibrated obnoxiously on the bedside table, and I picked it up and answered it (without looking) on autopilot.

“Stephanie Brier’s phone.” I yawned.

“Who the hell is this?” From the Irish brogue and incensed tone of voice, I deduced that I was about to have my first conversation with Red’s father.

“Pace Turner.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me, young man?”

Yep—it was Steph’s dad, without a shadow of a doubt. And she hadn’t even mentioned me to him. Perhaps I’d misinterpreted the meaning of last night.

“I guess not. I’ll get Steph.”

“An excellent notion, Pace Turner.”

I didn’t like the unnerving way he repeated my name as if committing it to memory. I hit the mute button and carried the phone to the bathroom. The door was ajar and I pressed it open with my palm. Red was dressed in a deep purple shirt, tight jeans, and grey boots. I paused to take in her beauty. She had her hair flipped upside down and when she saw me she shot to standing, flipping it back. She smiled brightly, but I must have been wearing a weird expression, because it fell off her lips immediately.

I extended my arm and held out the phone. “I’m pretty sure it’s your dad.”

She seemed to chew the inside of her lip as she looked at it, then unplugged her hair dryer. Just when I’d decided she wasn’t going to take the phone from me, she snatched it out of my hand. I saw her look at the screen and turn off the mute button.

“Dad.” Her tone was neutral. She turned her head from side to side, admiring her reflection as she listened to him thunder from thousands of miles away. “I told you I was bringing a friend to Rome.”

I folded my arms and leaned naked against the doorframe.

A friend.

Her impish smile manifested and she winked at me in the mirror. “I never
said
it was a girlfriend.”

Indecent images flashed through my mind at her use of the word girlfriend, but I shook them away. I could hear him ranting through the phone. She tossed toiletries into her bag from the sink and seemed bored.

“Dad, I’m twenty-fucking-one years old and I make plenty of my own money. If I want to hop a plane and come see Cedric, I will.
And
if I want to bring a man along for the ride, I will.”

I was following her out into the bedroom when she stopped in her tracks so suddenly that I nearly slammed into her.

“What the hell kind of question is that?” She sounded stone cold, and though I had no way to know it for sure, I felt certain he’d just asked if I was black.

She crossed the room and turned back toward me, her face matching her hair. “I’m hanging up on you now, Dad. Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

She stuffed her phone in her back pocket and crossed to me. “You’d better grab a shower. Cedric’s meeting us here for breakfast. He’s catching a cab and The Pontifical North American isn’t far away.”

I stood my ground. “Aren’t you going to tell me what your dad said?”

Steph’s eyes danced as she looked at me. “He told me I’d better go to confession.”

“What did he ask you, Red?”
The voice
made an unexpected appearance. I saw the fire in her eyes evaporate as she looked at the floor.

“He asked if I was using protection.”

I folded my arms and scoffed with a sanctimonious head shake. “So the good Irish Catholic Dad doesn’t mind condoms as long as they prevent little
brown
babies?”

I wanted to recall the sentence as soon as if left my lips. If he didn’t know about me; he wouldn’t know I was black. And, that aside, it was a harsh assumption. Stephanie huffed loudly, as if my remark had knocked all the wind out of her lungs. She blinked rapidly then looked around in a slightly lost manner. I felt like my stomach hit the floor. My insecurity had once again hopped behind the steering wheel of my temper and I’d gone way too far. I wracked my brain for something clever to say to smooth it over, but there was no taking something like that back.

After what seemed like eons of silence, Red spoke in an admirably diplomatic tone. “I’m going to go get us a table.”

“Steph—”

She kept walking and closed the door quietly as she left. I would have felt a whole lot less uneasy had she slammed it.

I showered and shaved, worrying the entire time that Steph was ranting to her brother about what an asshole I was. When I finally arrived at the Restaurant Roof Garden, I was too nervous about Red’s state of mind to fully appreciate the incredible view of the ancient Forum. I saw her and made my way toward the table. She was nodding happily as she spoke with an auburn-haired guy wearing a clerical collar. They were seated at arguably the best table in the place with an unobstructed view of the forum ruins. The man, who I presumed to be her brother, stood when he saw me. He gave me a friendly nod and in no way seemed surprised by either my presence or my skin color.

If I had imagined a brother for her, he wouldn’t have been more accurate. Cedric was a male clone of his sister. He was significantly shorter than me, but much taller than Red; I put him at around 5”11”. His hair was red with a widow’s peak, but a more muted shade than Steph’s, and he had the same pale skin and eyes. He smiled brightly and extended his hand.

“You must be Pace.” His voice sounded polished, like a newscaster or a politician.

“I am.” I took his hand and returned the grin. “And you must be Cedric.”

“And I must be invisible, because the waiter keeps walking by and
not
bringing me coffee,” Steph complained, suddenly very engrossed in her menu.

I took a seat between them and Steph quickly gave me the rundown of the breakfast options as if everything between us was cool. As in pre-Valentine’s Day/friends with benefits cool.

Shit.

I only heard how she spoke, not what she said, so I groped blindly and told her I wanted eggs, prosciutto, and toast.

Once we’d ordered, she started speaking to Cedric in Italian. He gave me a knowing glance and then shifted cool eyes to his sister.

“Don’t you feel it would be appropriate to speak English? For Pace’s benefit?”

Steph seemed properly chastised and picked up her coffee mug. “Sorry, Pace. Force of habit. I just asked how PNA’s soccer team was this year. Last time I was here they stomped the other team into the ground.”

“You like soccer?” I asked her.

She seemed embarrassed that I didn’t know this about her, and nodded with a sideways glance at Cedric.

I turned to him and saw him looking at Steph with inscrutable eyes. “Do you play?”

They both seemed surprised by the question, and Cedric frowned at Stephanie.

Steph blinked rapidly and shrugged. “He used to,” she said pointedly, “and he was quite the distance runner too.”

Cedric pressed his lips together and shook his head. “In high school. I’m no longer...athletic.”

The weight behind his statement appeared fairly dramatic and the atmosphere seemed to shift a bit. Thankfully, our breakfast came and I had something to do with my mouth besides continuously put my foot in it.

As they chit-chatted over our meal, I was struck by how little I really knew about Red. I focused hard on their conversation and managed to glean small bits of information about my lover through her small talk with her brother. Cedric had forced her to learn Italian when he’d moved to Rome. He’d threatened her with a communication blackout and she’d risen to the occasion. She’d also studied Japanese in high school and was fluent. She was actively starting to learn French.

“I thought it might be a good thing, since I spend so much time in Paris. The French hate me—I slaughter the verbs. And I talk down to them, so that probably doesn’t help my cause. After a while, they get tired of listening to me try and just start speaking English.” She rolled her eyes skyward.

“Still working with Dad?” Cedric asked, picking up his glass of orange juice.

She nodded. “I’m afraid so. But only about half of the time. The bulk of my gigs are freelance...album covers and fashion mags. It’s getting to the point where I’m working more in the fashion industry than music. It seems like every designer wants to use movie stars and musicians as models.”

I sipped my coffee quietly and said nothing. I had a hard time visualizing my mother describing Steph as unfocused, which was their term of choice when it came to girlfriends, but I had a harder time imagining either of my parents considering her work a contribution to society. Not that their approval was vital to me, but they were blood and their values ran pretty deep through my veins.

Seeming to sense that I felt disconnected from their conversation, Cedric turned to me with a smile and started asking questions.

“So, Pace, Steph tells me you’re a law student, and left medical school?”

I nodded. “I love law. In order to make my parents feel better about my decision to make the switch, I tell them that they mend sick bodies, and I’ll mend sick societies.”

Cedric smiled. “That’s a nice way of looking at it. Guess I’ll round it all out by mending sick souls.”

“Perfect.” I gave a pleasant chuckle, finally feeling a little at ease, and leaned back in my chair.

“There are so many churches in the city, how did you pick one to go to?” Cedric’s not-so-left-field question squelched any comfort I’d just gathered.

I shrugged. “Honestly, right now it’s only a priority when my parents are in town or my grandmother is in a fifty-mile radius. I intend to take it more seriously when I settle down with a family.” It wasn’t a total lie. I did intend to take
it
more seriously, once I figured out what
it
was.

Steph set her glass down forcefully. “I thought you said you were agnostic.”

Cedric looked let his eyebrows shoot up in surprise for a moment, but then cast an almost annoyed look at Steph. So did I.

“That’s what I said.” I nodded. “But, it’s a path, right?” I looked to Cedric, praying, ironically, for another break.

He grinned and nodded. “That’s for sure.”

I began to see why Cedric had been eyeing us the way he was throughout the meal. His concern didn’t seem to be about how we
looked
as a couple; he seemed concerned about what we
weren’t
as a couple.

I was struck by how completely delusional I was to think we’d blossomed into something substantial, but I was even more horrified at how silently the notion took over my brain. Quickly. How suddenly I slipped into the boyfriend role with someone with whom I’d outlined the exact opposite expectations. We were still virtual strangers. No, she was a stranger. I’d poured out some deep and dark secrets to her and she hadn’t even mentioned her brother was in seminary until she’d invited me to Italy. How could I have even entertained the notion that we were in a relationship of any substance? And why had she played along?

“So,” Steph started as we were wrapping up our meal, “Pace isn’t into religious mumbo jumbo, but he’s up to seeing the pomp and circumstance of the Vatican.”

I shot her an insolent glance.

“I think you’ll find it educational,” Cedric responded levelly. He was obviously an insightful person, and I could see he would shine as a leader or a counselor. He seemed to be the polar opposite of his sister...the anti-Red.

“Don’t get any kinky ideas, Pace. The Pope’s security is better than the President’s. They’ll whack your ass. And not in a fun way, in an
Italian
way.” When I blushed severely, she looked from Cedric to me and laughed. “Please. Cedric was the biggest manwhore in the tri-state area. He may have that annoying reformed man thing going on, but he’s been there and done that—believe me.”

“Nice, Steph.” Cedric shook his head and took a sip of coffee.

“Don’t act like I’m exaggerating, Ced. How many times did I walk into a room and catch you all over some chick? I should probably be in therapy.”

“On that point, I agree wholeheartedly.” His retort was dry and their similarity in that moment was uncanny.

Stephanie didn’t alter her language around Cedric in the slightest, dropping the f-bomb casually not only to punctuate a point, but stating that we “hadn’t been too tired to fuck” after our day of travel. I found her openness with him both fascinating and mortifying. Soon Stephanie excused herself and I found myself alone with the soon-to-be priest.

“Ummm... I feel like I should be apologizing for her mouth,” I blurted and he smiled warmly.

“Oh, Pace. Don’t ever start apologizing for her. She’s an adult, believe it or not. Besides, if you say I’m sorry every time she’s inappropriate, you’ll go hoarse before the end of the day. Anything special you’d like to see while you’re in Rome? It’s your first time here, right?”

I shook my head as if trying to clear it from a drugged fog. I’d practically forgotten where we were as I was too obsessed with how completely out of control and impulsive this whole...
thing
was. I needed more sleep. To regroup...and find me again. To get my head out of my fourth point of contact.

“How long have you been with Steph?”

He was reading my tells again. If he ever changed his mind about entering the priesthood, I had a feeling that Cedric Brier could have had a celebrated career as an interrogator or a poker player.

“We met in October, but we started getting serious about six weeks ago.” I shook my head, thinking about how ridiculous I sounded. Getting serious by doing what? Going out in public vs. screwing on every surface in her place or mine? “I’m sorry, Cedric. This must be really awkward, but I’m just now realizing how completely ludicrous it is that she brought me along.”