Jaded (20 page)

“You’re being impolite,” she said.

“You’re a very pretty woman.”

“You’re still being impolite.”

“What was all that business at dinner the other night? I felt like you were putting on a performance.”

“Maybe that’s just what I’m like when I’m sober.” She sipped her drink and grabbed a cookie. “This is my better side.”

Their attention was pulled back to the television. The beast made his appearance. Looked like a badly computer-generated King Kong to her. And probably to Rodney too. He shook his head and turned his attention back to her.

“Jade’s been very tolerant of your staying here this past week. Unusual for her.” He turned back to Syeesha. “She must really like you.”

“What’s not to like?”

He smiled. “You remind me of her. Feisty. Smart.”

Syeesha felt her heartbeat speed up. Is this where it happens? Instinctively, she looked around the room.

Where are the cameras? Can they record in the dark?

“Can I borrow your jacket?” Syeesha asked. “I’m a little chilly.”

As she wrapped it around her shoulders, she smelled the spicy cologne he wore. It brought to mind the cover of a romance book, all heat and desire.

Rodney picked up the remote control. “Mind if I mute this?”

“Ashamed of your movie? Playing the badass cop who kills the beast should make you proud.”

He silenced the television. “You know you’re slurring your words?”

“Do you know you have a habit of copping out?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“First acting. Now voting. One of these days you’ve got to start taking your work seriously.”

He turned toward her, one elbow resting on the back of the sofa, a hand propping up his head. Syeesha could feel his knee graze her bare leg. She wanted to move away from him, but she didn’t trust her loose limbs to support her. She was a sip away from being drunk. If anything happened between them now, maybe she could convince herself that it wasn’t consensual.

“What makes you think I didn’t take being an actor seriously?”

“You walked away from it.” She yawned, wiped her face.

“I left the business because I had to do things that I became increasingly uncomfortable with doing. I didn’t want to compromise myself.”

She laughed, but it came out sounding more like a snort.

“Don’t tell me casting couches still exist? What, you were asked to screw one of the producers or something?”

“Eventually, my refusals started to affect my reputation. Suddenly, I was the rising star turned anathema to everyone who mattered. But . . . who knows? Some time has passed. Maybe I’ll give it another go one day.”

“That sounds very noble of you, but I bet for the right price you would’ve had no qualms.”

She tossed the cookies on the table, took a sip of her drink, then leaned her head back on the sofa.

The light from the television illuminated the room. Rodney reached over and stroked the corner of her lip with his thumb.

“You’re dribbling,” he said.

“You’re evading the question,” she replied.

“What was the question?”

“If the money was right, you would’ve done whatever it was that got you so bent out of shape, right?”

He shook his head. “I wish it was that easy. But no. There are still some emotions out there that are more influential than greed.”

“Like what?” she asked. Syeesha felt herself losing consciousness. Her eyelids fluttered in a vain attempt to stay awake.

“Like fear,” he said. “Maybe you should go to bed.”

“Maybe I should.”

It was the last bit of conversation she remembered. His arms swooped beneath her knees and back. Rodney draped her arms around his neck and he carried her out of the room.

Syeesha drifted in and out of consciousness. She wanted to tell him to put her down, but sleep pulled at her in a willful game of tug-of-war.

Moments later she felt the comfort of her new bed. The jacket slipped from her shoulders. Her lips moved to protest. Words were uttered, but they were distant and garbled.

She felt his finger graze her shoulder then slide down the length of her bare arm. He gently pushed her to the side, pulled down the duvet and wrapped it around her body.

Syeesha let herself completely succumb to her unconsciousness, but not before wondering if she had just let a golden opportunity pass. Or averted an inevitable disaster.

***

Chapter 31

As Jade stepped onto the hotel’s elevator, she realized that she was ravenous. Tonight she would order a steak. And a good wine. And then what? Two nights she’d been at the hotel and she was getting a little restless. She hadn’t called Syeesha because she hadn’t wanted to distract her from her mission. When she’d attempted to call Rodney, she’d gotten his voice mail. She’d let him know she was attending a wedding—working it, actually—so she would be busy getting the soon-to-be bride and her family all dolled up for the dinner, wedding, and reception, and all the professional videos and photographs that would accompany the three-day event. She hadn’t heard back from him.

In truth, Jade was on the west side of town at the London. A self-imposed vacation. She’d cleared her calendar and now she had more time to think about her increasingly dire situation than she wanted. Rodney had bought an apartment without telling her. It was under the name of a trust, in his name alone. Jade surmised that it was only a matter of time before the door was officially closed on her marriage. And then where would she be? Without the prestige of being Rodney’s wife and the access it gave her, Jade wasn’t sure she had the skills to cope with being a divorcée getting by on just a few thousand a year. A divorcée with a couple of million in the bank and her own company was a much more palatable option.

Jade stepped off the elevator. She had a reservation for one at Gordan Ramsay and she hoped she could get a seat in a dark corner of the restaurant.

“Jade? Jade Jackson?”

Jade turned, wondering who could possibly be calling her by her maiden name.

“Don’t you recognize me?”

Jade tried to place the face. The woman was about her age. Her brown eyes were shrouded by heavy makeup and her caramel complexion was peppered with freckles. Thick, black hair was twirled into a complicated updo, formal enough for a black-tie affair. A black pantsuit covered the extra thirty pounds of weight on her frame. Jade noticed a crease down her sleeves. A telltale sign that she’d washed and ironed the suit herself. The stark red lipstick she wore clashed with the heavy black eyeliner she wore around her eyes.

A woman her age should know better.

“Lydia . . . Collins, right?”

“Girl, I haven’t seen you since nineteen–“

“High school. I remember. And it’s McCann now.”

“I know that. I’m sorry. What are you doing here? Don’t you still live in the city?”

“I do.” Jade looked around fruitlessly for an escape. “Just relaxing and wanted to get away but not too far away.”

“Woman like you can afford to go to France for the weekend. I love seeing you in the paper. Home girl makes good. That’s what I think every time I see you.”

Home girl is clinging to a life that’s slipping away.

“Thanks, Lydia. That means a lot. Are you checking in?”

“Already did.” She sighed and looked around. “Going to find something to eat. I can barely afford to stay here, much less go to these fancy restaurants.”

“What do you mean?”

Lydia hooked the cheap metal strap of her handbag around her shoulder.

“I always wanted to stay at the Ritz and I promised myself one day I’d save up enough so that I could splurge for my fortieth birthday. Well . . . this is my fortieth birthday.”

Jade furrowed her brow. “But this isn’t the Ritz.”

Lydia shrugged. “No, but it’ll do. Turns out the rooms I could afford at the Ritz were all booked up and this place was substantially cheaper. But at three ninety-five a night it still ain’t a bargain. Bet you’re staying in a big-time suite.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How much are they?”

“Umm . . .” Jade stammered. She had no idea. “I got a deep discount.”

“That’s how you big-timers do it.” She shook her head and smiled as if that confirmed previously held knowledge. “Well, I won’t waste any more of your time.” Lydia looked around the hotel. “I was wondering if there’s a Red Lobster on this side of town. I’d hate to find I got all dressed up for nothing.”

There was an innocence about her that Jade found refreshing. It wasn’t just that she was middle-class and ignorant about how the other half lived. There was something pure about her old classmate that both surprised and confounded Jade. Exploring that suddenly seemed more intriguing than worrying about her own issues.

“Lydia, how ‘bout I buy you dinner? I was just on my way to the hotel’s restaurant.”

Her face lit up then quickly dimmed.

“I couldn’t intrude on you and your husband.”

“He isn’t here. It’s just me.”

Lydia covered her lips with her hand. “Are you two . . .?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m just taking a little vacay. Come. Let me treat you.”

Tentatively, Lydia followed her into the restaurant, clutching her purse tightly beneath her arm. After they were situated, she read the menu. “Good Lord.“

“I’m treating, Lydia. Please. Order whatever you like.”

Lydia shook her heard and folded the menu.

“You order for me. I can’t look at these prices.”

After Jade ordered the seven-course meal, she sipped her wine and silently cursed herself. What was she thinking? She had absolutely nothing in common with this woman who was as invisible in high school as she was today.

“This is turning out to be a very nice birthday. Boy, wait ‘till I tell Leonard about this?”

“Your husband? Wait, you don’t mean Leonard the Skynnard?”

Lydia guffawed. Patrons looked at her. She didn’t notice.

“Girl, don’t let him hear you call him that!”

“Is he still a hundred and three pounds?”

“Chil’, please. He’s made up for those days. He’s close to two twenty.”

“He was such a sweetheart, though. You two married?”

Lydia seemed to relax. “Never. But we’ve been together for twenty-three years.”

“Why haven’t you married?”

“Why should we? He ain’t going nowhere and neither am I.”

When the waiter arrived, Lydia stared at the food on her plate. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s an amuse-bouche. It’s an hors d’oeuvre.”

“Looks like fish.”

“It’s salmon.”

“It looks raw.”

“Taste it.”

“Is this all I get?”

“It’s a seven-course meal.”

“This counts as a course? If they’re all gonna be this small we might as well go to Red Lobster now and save ourselves the calories. Not that this is gonna take up much space on my thighs.”

Jade laughed.

“I used to feel the same way but I guess over the years I kinda got used to these restaurants.”

“Um-hmm.”

Lydia slipped the fish into her mouth and chewed. “Tasty. But not as tasty as the fried catfish I make at home.”

“So do you and Leonard have kids?”

“Four. All boys. Calvin and Melvin are twins. Seventeen.”

“Graduating soon.”

“Yeah. I’m so proud of them.”

Her face beamed with an internal light so warm Jade could’ve sworn she saw a glow around her.

“And your other two?”

“Jason is fourteen and Marcus is four.”

“Four?”

“An accident. But a blessing, nonetheless.”

Their plates were removed and another set before them.

“Some help here, please?”

“It’s like an eggplant and artichoke salad.”

“This is the wimpiest-looking salad.”

“It’s not really a salad.”

“It’s not really much of anything, is it?”

“So your boys will be off to college later this year, right?”

“Leonard and I don’t have that kinda money. My boys enlisted in the army.”

Jade watched as Lydia’s mind drifted for a moment. She sighed heavily, shook her head, then finished her course in two bites. Her eyes wandered about the room. Jade wondered what she thought of these rich people who lived lives she’d never be able to imagine, with limitless black cards and custom-built jets at their disposal.

“Twenty-three is a long time to be testing the waters.”

“Leonard’s a keeper. No doubt about it. I don’t know. We just never saw the need to be married. Love isn’t defined by a piece of paper. I cherish my independence and so does he. It’s a mental thing, I guess. Knowing that you can walk out the door at any moment but also knowing that you never would. In the beginning, I needed to have that option. Now it doesn’t matter so much.”