Page 61 of Tender Offer
Shock catapults into my lungs, taking the air with it. My eyes prick at the memories slicing me open, tiny paper cuts of our serendipity and its demise. I can’t forget our last day together, but keepsakes from the good times are piling up.
They’re here now. The way we fall into easy conversation and our bodies’ reactions to each other. Him refilling my wineglass without my asking and me passing him the baking dish for the second helping he always gets.
The choreography of us is practiced, but the idea of an us again is terrifying.
If eyes are the window to the soul, Preston’s are a lifeline, compelling me to peek behind the curtain. He’s not staring with a haughty rebuke, numb to my cries for him to see the woman he fell in love with and not the opportunist he asserted I was. They’re ablaze with sadness for what never was. What was smothered and never had a chance to grow.
He reaches for my hand. “We lost three months because of how things ended. I want them back. I want you back.”
Chapter 32
Madison
“Take me off speaker before I embarrass us both. Matter of fact, let me call you back.”
Kojo’s tone is a ten-second warning. My phone rings with enough time for me to jump into a dressing room and answer his video call.
“Yes!” I whisper-yell in a dash to close the fabric barrier. This four-by-four space has a full-size mirror, navy carpeting, and zero privacy. There is a long gray curtain, but it won’t block out our antics.
“You called me, Regine.” His eyes bulge to tell meduh. He scoots off the bed, revealing a man in a durag lying facedown and knocked out. Onyx satin ripples above the nut-brown backside taking up the space behind my friend, who’s ready to breathe fire down my neck.
“Football player” is all he says, unamused. His slippers pad across the hardwood to the kitchen, where he props the phone next to the coffee machine.
Morning sun from the Midtown skyline creates a kaleidoscope through the living room behind him. Kojo fiddles with a mugand leans back against the kitchen island. His arms fold across the olive floral silk robe that covers his lean frame. Only my friend coordinates a durag with his sleepwear.
“What is so important you woke me up at dawn?”
“It’s ten a.m. over there.”
He dismisses the obvious with a wave and yawns. “Anything before noon is early.” His eyes narrow. “Where are you?”
“In a boutique, shopping for a client.” My entire morning consisted of responding to emails before navigating from store to store across neighborhoods. I need a cigarette and a tray of pastries after dealing with London traffic.
Kojo’s lips purse. “Okay, coin. Back to the mystery at hand. What did this man offer you? Aside from a homecooked meal.”
“A tender offer,” I say.
“A tender what?”
I chuckle. It’s the same reaction I had. “It’s some business term, when a person wants to submit a bid to buy shares or something.”
“What kind of mess is that, Regine? Preston is fine, but his game is lacking.” Kojo scoffs and rolls his neck.
I fold my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from laughing. Why am I cheesing in a boutique dressing room?
“Excuse me. What isthat?” Kojo’s head tilts, and he points at me like I have a stain in the middle of my lilac blouse. “Regine, did—” He’s in front of the camera in half a second, his big eye staring down. “Did you finally give that man your panties?!”
“I—”
“My friend got that ding-a-ling!” he sings, doing a blasphemous holy ghost two-step.
“Kojo!” I seethe. This whole boutique will hear his “Hallelujah” if he doesn’t close his big mouth. It takes two more pleas to get him to stop jumping up and down. “I didn’t have sex.”
That stops him mid-twerk.
“Then what am I shaking my ass for?”
I shouldn’t laugh at how serious he turned after all that hollering, but I can’t help it. “Preston wants to pursue me during my time here. He wants another chance at my heart.”
