The Makeover (47 page)

And the voice
continued, gleefully widening the cracks in Phoenix’s shattered shield of
faith.

And with each
word that sprang up in her mind, she became renewed and empowered.  What
did she have to be sad about?  What was there to repent for?  She
hadn’t done anything wrong, after all.  She was thankful to God for
helping her, for sending someone to hold her hand while she went through this
process of change.  But why would God expect her not to have justice after
all she’s been through?  She had been rejected all her life because of the
looks God had given her.  Now she looked better and was still being
rejected.  God had not allowed her justice.

And God owed
her justice for what they have all done to her.

And justice was
something she would seek, no matter the cost.

In time, she
would forgive her mother for neglecting her needs and maybe her friends for
treating her so harshly when she needed their support.  Someone, however,
would have to pay.

And hurting
Cedric for all the things he had done to hurt her was the only way she could
heal.

It was the only
way she could ever hope to move on, to stop the boiling anger from burning her
alive from the inside, out. 

She couldn’t
let him get away with it.  She had taken care of him so much.  She
had loved him with all her heart.  She had treated his son, his mother,
and aunts as though they were her blood.  She had financially supported
him, helped him get visitation with his son, and had provided the means for
Cedric to parent his son.  She had bought him gifts and given him
cash.  She had taken Cedric on trips to places he never thought he would
see.  She had only wanted one thing in return…

His love.

And she had
worked every single day for almost two years to have it.  She had believed
she had earned it when he said he would marry her.  She had even given him
the money to purchase her ring.  She had paid for the wedding that never
happened practically on her own, with some help from her mother.  She had
begged him for a child and he said he wasn’t ready, that he couldn’t afford to
bring another child into the world.  And yet, after a few months, he had
gotten a girl pregnant and was finally stepping up to be the man for that girl
that he had never chosen to be for Phoenix.

No.

She would have
justice and God and Paulo and Cara would just have to understand.

But first—

Phoenix trudged
up the steps, holding a garbage bag she had found in Paulo’s home office. 
The glass glistened all over his steps.  Gingerly, she stepped around the
large pieces to avoid them from piercing the rubber soles of her
Uggs
boots.  She began to pick up the pieces of the
glass, placing them in the bag.

Locating a
broom and dustpan in the small courtyard in front of the ground level office,
she swept the steps, pushing the shards until they were all piled on the
sidewalk.  She gathered the larger pieces and placed them in the trashcan
tucked into the corner of the small courtyard.

“What are you
doing?” he asked, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

She looked up
to see Paulo, standing in the cold, stripped to the waist, wearing only a pair
of basketball shorts and boxing gloves that he was yanking off.  She
didn’t answer, unable to find appropriate words.  She continued to sweep
the glass from the sidewalk in front of his brownstone.

“I asked you
what you are doing, Phoenix?  And why are you still at my house?” Paulo
said as he bounded down the steps to snatch away his broom.

Phoenix saw that
his eyes were swollen and puffy, edged in red.  They shone like canary
diamonds—brilliant, but hard and unyielding. 

She gently
grabbed back the broom stick handle and finished sweeping.  When all the
pieces were in the pan, she walked them silently back to the trashcan and
dumped them.

“I’m cleaning
up the mess I caused,” she answered quietly.  She couldn’t bear to look
him in the eyes, knowing she had caused him to cry.

“I don’t need
you to clean up my messes, Phoenix.”

“But you’ve
cleaned up mine so many times.  This is the least I can do.  I am so
sor
—”

“Save it,”
Paulo snapped.  “Just go home.”

“Paulo,
please—”

“What?” Paulo
tossed the word to the street behind them.

“I am
sorry.  Please forgive me.  I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do. 
But it’s no excuse for using my past against me.”  He chuckled.  “But
then again, that’s what you do, so why am I so surprised?”

Phoenix felt
she deserved that so she let the words smack her in the face and slide down to
the ground.  She placed a hand on his arm.  “I am apologizing to you
for what I said this afternoon.  Please forgive me.  I didn’t mean
it.  I was angry about something else and wasn’t ready to talk about
it.  You were right.  Either I should have gone home and taken some
time to myself or discussed it.  I should never have taken it out on you
by shutting you out, then lashing out.  Please forgive me, Paulo.”

Paulo’s face
softened from stone to half-dry cement.  “I do forgive you.  Now, I
just want you to give
me
some space, okay?  Go home.”

“But all we’ve
been doing for three months is giving each other space, Paulo.”  When
Paulo turned away, Phoenix’s tried again.  Placing a hand on his shoulder,
she said, “You are going to catch pneumonia, P.  You should get upstairs.”

“Not until you
leave my property Phoenix.   I want to make sure you head home.”

“How can I do
that when I am going inside with you?”

“Phoenix—”

But Phoenix, in
her new body, had sprinted up the steps two at a time and was already letting
herself into his duplex apartment. 

“Wow,” she said
when she heard him enter.  “I can’t believe I’ve never been up here. 
I’m always at your office or you come over to my house.”

“My
pai
, my father, before he died, taught me that the
man should go to the woman as much as possible,” Paulo answered gruffly. 

“You are such a
gentleman.  Still, I wish I had been invited up here.  This is
beautiful.  Why didn’t you ever have the Bible studies up here?”

“We used to,
but we started having them downstairs when Mariana broke both her legs in a car
accident, and couldn’t get upstairs in her wheelchair.  I guess it just
became our hangout spot ever since.”

“Wow.  But
this is so lovely, Paulo,” Phoenix said in awe.

The large
open-concept living/dining/kitchen area was spacious and bright.  The
walls were painted a cool greenish-gray, with black leather furniture.  A
sleek bachelor pad, the space was sparsely decorated.  There were black
and white photographs on the wall, ivory blinds, and several pieces of art and
sculptures that added splashes of vibrant color.   Of course he had a
large flat screen taking up the wall opposite his sectional.  His
dark-cherry floors extended past the dining area into the spacious galley-style
kitchen that included a breakfast bar with space for four. 

“I love this
place.  What? Did HGTV come and do this place for you?”

“Cara,” Paulo
responded.  “I bought it abandoned and she oversaw the renovations.”

“She decorates
too?  My goodness that girl is going to be famous.”

“Yeah.”

“So are you
going to show me around?”

“I didn’t invite
you in, so why do you get a tour?”

“Because you
forgive me and want me to finally see your home,” Phoenix murmured as she
walked over to Paulo.  Her mouth went dry as she stared at the ridges and
contours of his heavily muscled upper body.  She traced his jaw line with
her fingertip and let it trace a pattern down his neck to his chest before
finally resting on his firm abdomen. 

Paulo stiffened
and let out an involuntary gasp, as he parted his lips.  He didn’t want to
react to her touch.  He really didn’t.  He swallowed. 
I
won’t get sucked in.  I refuse.  Jesus…

“My, my…” she
whispered, letting her eyes sweep over his body, as her finger traced the
ridges of his eight-pack abs.  She bit her bottom lip as she stared boldly
into his eyes.

Paulo, watching
her bite a lip, finally drew a long breath and stepped back.  “Are you
finished or should I turn around for closer inspection?” Paulo snapped. 

“Please!”
Phoenix grinned.  “By all means,
do
turn around for closer
inspection.”

“Mighty
confident nowadays, aren’t you?” Paulo frowned as he left the room to get a tee

shirt.

“Well you
helped me with that, transforming me into my gorgeous self,” Phoenix called as
she walked into the dining area to look at the antique wood table.  “Hey,
I understand about your old-fashioned charm, but I still don’t get why you
haven’t invited me into your main living area.  I would have loved to hang
out with you outside of your office downstairs or my apartment.”

“I would have,
but you had more pressing matters to attend to, right?” Paulo raised his
eyebrow.  “Like introducing you to God, not that it’s made a huge
difference.”

“Paulo, I—”

“You wanted a
tour, so go look around.  Go on upstairs and look just to put your mind at
rest,” Paulo said curtly, jumping into his reclining armchair and turning on
the television to a news network.  “Then you can go home.”

Phoenix was
disappointed that he refused to walk through his home with her and considered
waiting for a better time.  Curiosity, however, took control and she found
herself in the kitchen.  She was so happy to see he had a deck that led to
the ground-floor outdoor space.

“This is how
the better half of Harlem lives,” she sighed.

She found a
small half-bath, just underneath the circular stairs, before taking them to the
second floor.  There she found another large spacious bathroom in between
two jack and
jill
-style bedrooms.  In the middle
of the long
hall
was the master, which was decorated
in a lovely blue with black furniture, and again was very sparse, masculine,
and sleek.  She saw he had a master bath and a huge walk-in closet that
was barely filled with his belongings.

“He’s
right.  He does need a wife,” Phoenix murmured, picturing what she would
add to the spa-like master suite. 

There was
another very large room that contained an armchair, a loveseat, a huge table
filled with religious items, a stereo, a television, a desk, and bookshelf
filled with bibles and religious books.   On the door was a sign that
read “The Lord’s Room.”  Phoenix loved that Paulo actually had a room
dedicated to God in his house which he had called his “prayer closet.” 
She had not fully believed it when he’d told her about it.  He’d said that
there may be a time when the Church may have to worship privately in the last
days.  “Wow, he was serious about that,” she murmured.

 There was
a smaller room that was clearly Paulo’s home gym.  There stood a small
Nordic track treadmill, an elliptical machine, a bike, and a weight-lifting
machine.  Tucked into the corner was a punching bag and two chairs.

Phoenix saw
that there were several sets of gloves and grabbed the smallest set.  She
struggled to put them on for several minutes.

“Need some
help?” Paulo said, from his position in the doorway.

“Yeah.”

Paulo came over
and pulled the glove off her hand before grabbing bandages to wrap her
knuckles.  Then he deftly pulled each glove onto her hand.

“Thanks,”
Phoenix smiled before turning to the bag.  “Now what?”

“Now you hit
the bag.”

“Aren’t you
going to show me how?” Phoenix said, taking a sloppy swing at the bag.

“No.  I’m
off the clock.  You’ll figure it out.”

Pouting,
Phoenix took another swing at the bag and another, while it swung in every
direction.

Frustrated,
Phoenix took another wild swing, effectively missing the bag.  Tripping on
her own feet, she slipped onto the floor.

Phoenix looked
up to see Paulo’s shoulders shaking.

“Are you not
going to help me up?” she barked.

“Why? When you
were down before, and I tried to help you up, you ripped my head off.  You
don’t need my help, remember?  With your new clothes and your new body and
your new makeup and your new hair, you got it all together, right?”

And Paulo was
no longer laughing.

Sighing,
Phoenix used her gloved hands to push herself up from the ground.  Walking
over to Paulo she took a swing at his chest as hard as she could.

He didn’t even
blink.  “Nice.  You might want to bend your arm a little more to get
some power into your punch.”

“That didn’t
hurt?” Phoenix said, through clenched teeth.

“Didn’t even
tickle,” Paulo grinned.  “But nice try.”

Phoenix swung
again, harder, hitting the deep ridges of his stomach.

Paulo took a
breath that time.  Nodding, Paulo said, “Better.”

Phoenix was
tempted to swing at his face, but stopped herself.  “Get these off of me.”

Paulo took his
time getting the gloves off.

“Did I hurt you
at all?”

“Not
physically,
”
he responded, looking deeply into her eyes.

“Paulo?  I
said I was sorry for what I said.  I am sorry for treating you that way
after all you’ve done for me and—”

“Listen, I
already said I forgive you, but you shouldn’t treat people that way whether
they’ve done something for you or not, Phoenix.”

Shame flooded
Phoenix so powerfully,, she could barely keep her head up.  “I know. 
Still, it’s worse because you have been nothing but kind.  I had no right
to bring up things you told me in confidence and use it against you.”

“No, you did
not have a right.  But bitterness does that too you.”