Single Mama's Got More Drama

“Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be easy for us to fall into bed together, but—”

“And fun,” Lewis supplied. “A lot of fun.”

I flashed a mock-scowl his way. “But,” I continued, picking up my point where I’d left off, “if we wait until we’re married, then I’ll know for sure that your heart is in the right place.”

“You still don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” I quickly went on. “But come on, Lewis. You know me and you when it comes to sex.”

Lewis wriggled his eyebrows. “How could I forget?”

“My whole point about waiting until we’re married—instead of falling into bed together—is that we’ll both know that we’re getting married for the right reasons.” I took a moment to let my words settle over Lewis. “Our sexual chemistry was never the problem. But a marriage has to be based on more than that.”

Lewis nodded slowly, his lips pulling downward in a small frown. I knew he didn’t like my position, but like the last time when we’d discussed this, he seemed to accept my terms without a fuss.

Two women in barely there bikinis strolled by the table. I watched Lewis, waiting to see his gaze follow the women as they passed.

Instead, he raised my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You’re worth the wait.”

My lips spread in a genuine grin. Ever since proposing to me, Lewis continued to surprise me. I expected him to get frustrated with me over my no-sex requirement, but he continued to be patient. I expected the player I’d known to react to the beautiful women who flirted with him, or at least check out the eye candy. But he wasn’t doing that, at least not in front of me.

Instead, Lewis gave me more and more reason to believe that he really did want to marry me for all the right reasons. And more so, that he really was in love with me.

Heck, he’d remembered my favorite wine, white zinfandel, something he hadn’t done before.

Maybe this marriage thing to Lewis was going to work out just fine. Maybe, like I’d tried to convince myself, marriages built on a mutual friendship and respect were the ones that went the distance. It wasn’t necessary for my heart to be overflowing with love for Lewis in order for us to have a good life together.

As long as he would be faithful to me, treat me with respect, be a good father to my daughter, that was all I could want.

Then why was it, I thought as I raised my wineglass to my lips once more, that I couldn’t help wishing that it was Chaz sitting across from me?

6

“So?” Carla asked when I got to the door after my dinner with Lewis. “How did it go?”

“It was nice,” I replied.

“Nice?”

“Nice dinner. Nice ambiance. Good company.”

Carla raised an eyebrow. “Are you still engaged?”

I strolled into the apartment, sighing as I did. “I guess so.”

“You guess so?”

“Yes,” I said. Then with more conviction, “Yes, I am.”

“Vanessa.” Carla frowned. “I thought you were going to tell him that you don’t want to marry him.”

“I was?”

“That’s what you told me last week, remember? Over a bottle of wine as you were crying about the fact that you weren’t in love with Lewis.”

“Vaguely.”

“Vaguely?” Carla asked, her voice full of skepticism.

“I remember,” I said as I plopped myself down on the sofa. “Of course I remember.” I’d been extremely confused that night, pining over Chaz, but knowing that I needed Lewis to help me fight Tassie. “Well, I’ve changed my mind.”

“Now you do want to marry him?”

“Where’s Rayna?” I asked.

“She and Amani are snuggled under the covers on my bed. They’re engrossed in that Barbie Island Princess movie. But don’t change the subject. Have you really changed your mind about Lewis?”

“You should have seen him tonight, Carla. He ignored every woman who tried to flirt with him. Every single one. He even showed me this note our waitress had slipped him when she gave us the bill. The skank had the nerve to give him her phone number! Even though he was clearly with me.”

“That’s the way women are,” Carla said sourly. “A man’s more attractive when he belongs to someone else.”

“Lewis ripped up the number right in front of my face. The old Lewis never would have done that.”

“Score one for Lewis. But—”

“And he’s going with me to that meeting with Tassie and her lawyer I told you about when I called you earlier. He’s going to bring a cashier’s check, which I think Tassie will happily accept.”

“Again, that’s nice—”

“And he’s putting me in touch with a lawyer tomorrow. One who can represent me during the meeting. It’ll be totally foolish for me to go without one.”

“Definitely smart.”

“And he’s also going to help me find an investigator, because I need to dig up some dirt on Tassie before the meeting. Hopefully, if all goes well, Tassie will be out of my life forever after next week.”

Carla crossed her fingers. “Let’s hope.”

“Yes. Let’s hope.”

“Any other wonderful things to tell me about Lewis?” Carla asked.

“No. That’s about it.”

“Then can I give you my opinion?”

“Of course.” I pulled my legs up onto the sofa with me and stared at my friend.

“Everything you’ve said is great, and Lewis definitely sounds like he’s changed.”

“No one is more surprised than I am.”

“But—” Carla said, holding up a hand to silence me. “Everything you’ve said also sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself why you should go through with marrying him. And if you’ve got to convince yourself, then should you really be doing it?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” I said.

“Really?” Carla asked. “Because I thought it was as simple as if you love someone, you marry them. If you don’t love someone—”

“I’ve learned that life isn’t as easy as black and white, right and wrong. Being in love or liking someone. There are so many shades of gray, Carla, complicating everything.”

“You’re justifying,” Carla said in a singsong voice.

“But how can I accept his help and not marry him?”

“With a ‘thank you very much for your help, but I’m not in love with you.’ You and Lewis stayed friends after your relationship ended the first time. I’m sure you’ll remain friends if you tell him the truth now.”

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “Lately I’ve been thinking that love is overrated.”

Carla laughed. “Love is overrated? This coming from the woman who has always been seeking the real thing? Hell, when you came back from the Bahamas, you had such a glow. And when Chaz came to visit you here, I’ve never seen you happier.”

“And Chaz dumped me, remember? That’s exactly why I say that love is overrated. No offense—I know some people find the real deal—but for others, maybe it’s enough to find someone you like a lot, someone who makes you laugh. Someone who won’t break your heart.”

“Chaz is going to come around,” Carla said. “I really believe that.”

“I wish I could believe that, but he was very clear. He couldn’t accept any form of dishonesty. I left him a couple messages, but he hasn’t called me back.” My throat grew thick with emotion, my heart heavy. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over him.”

Carla patted my hand. “Oh, sweetie.”

“Which is exactly why I need to marry someone I’m not head over heels in love with,” I went on, trying to push my sad feelings aside. “Lewis and I can have the passion in the bedroom without love. I think it’s a win-win situation.”

“I saw the way Chaz looked at you,” Carla said, her voice encouraging. “It was obvious how much he loved you.”

I swallowed. Hard. I didn’t want Carla talking about Chaz—it was too painful to remember what I’d shared with him. “It’s over,” I said simply. “He made that very clear.”

“But it doesn’t have to be,” Carla insisted. “Not forever.”

“Carla—”

“A man wants to know a woman’s crazy about him,” she said. “Just as much as he’s crazy about her. I say you fight for him.”

“I tried that. It didn’t work, remember?”

“You called a couple times. Maybe you need to call twenty times. One hundred. Whatever it takes to prove to him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.”

I lifted my left hand, showing the enormous engagement ring Lewis had given me.

“I’ve got nothing against Lewis,” Carla said. “Except that you couldn’t trust him to be faithful.”

“But that’s the thing. He’s really changed.”

“Fine. Let’s say he has. If you could return from a date with him and be glowing the way you did after you’d met Chaz, I would wholeheartedly support any union between you and him. You’re a terrific girl, Vanessa. You deserve nothing less than to spend the rest of your life with a man you’re passionately in love with.”

I held up a hand to stop Carla. “Stop, please. I’m confused enough already. Besides, I have the problem of Tassie Johnson. Lewis can make it go away.” I wouldn’t know for sure until after the meeting, but I was hoping that with a big check, Tassie would choose greed over her fight with me. And the only way for me to come up with that kind of cash was Lewis.

What else could I do? I had resolved to think of my daughter’s happiness instead of my own. Thinking of my own happiness had resulted in dating disaster after dating disaster. Personally, I was ready to close the door on my heart once and for all and deal with being a good mother. And being a good mother meant keeping my home for my daughter.

“I’ve given my opinion,” Carla said. “I’m not going to browbeat you with it.”

“Thank you.”

“Because the truth is, whatever you decide, I’m going to support you. I just want to see you happy.”

“Thank you.” I leaned forward and hugged Carla. “That means a lot.”

“You were there for me when I had my marriage crisis. The least I can do is support you.”

Only a month earlier, Carla had contemplated an affair. I knew she didn’t really want to do that, but she’d been missing her husband terribly, who was in Iraq on a tour of duty. Thankfully, she’d come to her senses and not jeopardized everything that mattered most to her.

“Have you heard from Paul?” I asked.

Carla’s face erupted in a grin. “Just this evening, actually.”

“And how is he?”

“He’s doing well. He misses me like crazy, as I do him. And with every day that passes, I don’t worry as much. The worrying was making me go insane.”

Didn’t I know it. The big issue that had had Carla very worried—and in my mind, thinking irrationally enough to even consider an affair—was her fear that Paul would die in Iraq and leave her a widow. It was a completely natural fear, and all any of us could do was pray for Paul’s safe return.

“I’m counting down the days until he gets back,” Carla said. “As soon as he’s home, we’re going to Disney World.”

As I watched Carla’s face light up as she spoke, her earlier words got me. The whole bit about being passionately in love with your partner and deserving nothing less than that.

Seeing the love in her face made me believe in the ideal. Wish for it in my own life.

Before I got lost in thoughts about Chaz again, I got up from the sofa. “Let me check on my little pumpkin.”

I walked down the hall to Carla’s room and peered inside. Amani and Rayna were lying on the bed, a comforter covering them as they watched the television.

Rayna smiled when she saw me, but didn’t make a move to get off the bed. “I watching Barbie,” she said.

I padded into the room. “Yes, I see that.” I eased onto the bed beside my daughter and kissed the top of her head. “Is it a good movie?”

“Shh!”

“Oh, okay then.” I giggled as I got up. “I’ll let you watch the rest of your movie, then we’ll go home.”

I went back out to the living room, where Carla was still on the sofa. She had the television on to CNN and was absorbed in a story about a missing girl in Omaha.

“This is so scary,” she said, turning to me. “The father was so pissed over losing custody that he took his little girl and took off. No one knows where they are. The mother is devastated.”

“Of course,” I said, only half-interested. Carla was addicted to television. Soap operas and CNN. While she didn’t say so, I figured she watched CNN all the time for any news about fallen soldiers.

“Do you mind if I head upstairs to shower, then come back down to get her?” I asked.

“Sure. Go on.”

I left Carla’s and headed upstairs to my place. In my bedroom, I stripped out of my suit.

That’s when I noticed the red message light flashing on my phone.

I went around to the side of my bed where my phone was and punched in the code to check my voice mail.

“Vanessa, this is Cynthia Martin. I tried you at work, but you’d already gone. Call me back. It’s important.”

Cynthia then rattled off her number, but it wasn’t necessary. I’d committed it to memory. I called her back immediately.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Cynthia. I’m glad I—”

“This is Cynthia Martin. I’m unable to take your call right now, but leave me a message, and I’ll be sure to get back to you.”

I frowned, but left a message letting Cynthia know that I was home now, and that she could call me anytime.

Then I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

As I climbed into the tub, I was both excited and scared. Excited at the prospect that Cynthia might have gotten the dirt I needed, but scared that she hadn’t.

I wished she’d said either way what she had learned. The suspense was killing me.

I showered quickly, hoping she returned my call soon. She had to have good news for me.

I wouldn’t allow myself to think anything else.

7

I called Cynthia Martin no less than five times the next day when I was at work, and was completely dismayed when I got her voice mail each time. How was it that the woman had called with news, but now wouldn’t get back to me?

Every time my phone rang, I hoped it was her calling. All but one time I answered it, it was someone calling regarding my work. The one non-work-related call had come from Lewis, who’d let me know that he’d put in a call to both the lawyers he’d mentioned the previous night and was waiting to hear back from them.

I glanced at my wall clock. It was ten minutes to five. Disappointed that the whole day had passed without a word from Cynthia, I frowned.

And then my phone rang. I snatched up the receiver before it could ring a second time. “Vanessa Cain.”

“Hey, Vanessa. It’s Cynthia Martin.”

“Cynthia,” I said, my heart filling with hope when I heard the reporter’s voice.

“I’ve got news for you,” she practically sang.

“You do?”

“Yes. And you’re going to like it.”

I pumped my fist in the air and mouthed the word yes!

“Can we meet this evening?” she asked.

“Name the time and place.”

“How about the Barnes and Noble on Kendall Drive? We can meet in the Starbucks café.”

“Sounds good.”

“I can be there around five-fifteen.”

My office wasn’t too far from that bookstore. And if I met Cynthia now, I wouldn’t have to go home, only to head back into downtown Miami later. “I’ll be there.”

“See you then.”

As soon as I replaced the receiver, I quickly finished with the file that was on my computer and logged off. I slipped into my slingbacks, which were beneath my desk, and collected my purse. Then I hurried out of my office, saying a quick goodbye to the co-workers I ran in to, before heading to the bank of elevators.

Hardly able to contain my excitement, I all but danced around in the elevator, ready to spring through the doors the moment they opened on the ground floor. I watched each floor light up during the descent, and inwardly groaned every time the elevator stopped on a floor other than the first.

About three minutes later, I was the first to get off the elevator when it landed on the lobby level. I caught Edgar’s eye immediately. The building’s long-time security guard raised his hand in greeting and offered me a meek smile.

I’m not sure what kind of look I leveled on him, but I know it wasn’t pleasant.

“Come on,” Edgar said as I neared the security desk. “Are you going to be mad at me forever?”

In reply, I scowled at him.

“Vanessa…”

Edgar and I weren’t close friends or anything, but I hadn’t expected him to betray me the way he had. Edgar was a friend of Rayna’s father, Byron, and had told him about my involvement with Chaz Anderson. Because of that, Byron had shown up at the restaurant where I’d been having lunch with Chaz, confronted me about not wanting to “lose” his daughter—thereby exposing my lie about Rayna’s father being dead—and that had been the end for me and Chaz.

“Come over here and talk to me,” Edgar urged, motioning for me to go to him.

I paused, debating what to do. But after a moment, I sauntered toward him. Reaching the security desk, I blew out a heavy breath and stared down at Edgar.

“Yes, I’m going to be mad at you forever,” I said. “Edgar, how could you have told Byron about me and Chaz?”

“I already told you. Byron said he’d changed—given up the gambling, you know? I know that was a big problem for you guys, and I figured, he seemed like he was telling the truth. And doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?”

Byron was a compulsive gambler. It was one of the reasons that our relationship was doomed to fail. I didn’t know about his habit until we’d already been involved about a year, and when I found out he was in debt to bookies for thousands, he always had what seemed like a reasonable explanation for how the situation had gotten out of control.

Every time I asked him how the “situation” was going, he told me he was working off his debt. I believed him. And then I noticed that some of my jewelry was gone. Like a diamond-and-emerald necklace my father had given to my mother that I’d received after her passing. At first, Byron swore that he hadn’t taken it. Then, he claimed he “borrowed” it.

I never saw it again, or any of the other jewelry he’d taken. I still remember thinking that the reason he was so upset that I was pregnant was because of the money it would cost to raise a child—money he was happier spending on placing bets.

“It was up to me to decide whether or not he deserved a second chance,” I said to Edgar.

“I know. But he kept telling me how he’d changed, and was talking about how much he wanted a relationship with his daughter, that he was ready,” Edgar went on. “But that you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Then there was that article in the paper about you and Chaz, speculating that you’d get married.” Edgar shrugged. “I felt I had to say something.”

Edgar had explained himself already, but no matter how many times he told me the story, I would never understand. He had jumped the gun by talking to Byron about my relationship with Chaz, though he’d rightly assumed that it was serious. I guess it boiled down to the fact that Edgar and Byron had been friends from the time Byron had also worked security at the building, and despite Byron’s short-comings, Edgar must have felt some sort of obligation to tell him about me and Chaz.

What Edgar didn’t understand was that Byron talked a good game. He said the right things about getting over the gambling and wanting to be a decent father to those who would listen, but in reality, he didn’t try. He knew that if he admitted the truth—that he’d simply abandoned his daughter—his friends and family would see him as a schmuck.

“Well, you ruined everything,” I said.

“I was only trying to help. Trying to be a good friend.”

“You want to know something? Something that will show you Byron’s true character?” I paused, made sure I had Edgar’s full attention. “I haven’t heard from Byron since that day he showed up at the restaurant. So. There you go.”

“I’m sorry,” Edgar said. “I really am.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. I still liked Edgar, even if I felt I had to keep up the pissed-off act with him a while longer. It was probably best I didn’t get too chummy with him again, because I didn’t want him running back to Byron with any more stories about my love life.

That was one of the reasons I made sure not to wear the ring Lewis had given me to work. And of course, I hadn’t wanted any questions from anyone in the office. Only Carla and Alaina knew about my engagement. I hadn’t even told Debbie.

“You have a good evening,” I said to Edgar. I knew it wasn’t his fault that Chaz had dumped me, but if only he hadn’t told Byron. If I’d been able to broach the subject of Rayna’s father actually being alive in some other way than the dramatic fashion with which it played out, Chaz might still be in my life.

“Yeah, you have a good night, too,” Edgar said, but his voice sounded off, and he was looking beyond my shoulder, not at me. The wary expression on his face had me alarmed.

“What?” I asked, and quickly followed his gaze over my shoulder.

As I did, I gasped, feeling as though I’d been scalded by fire. Byron. Then I spun back around and glared at Edgar. “Did you set me up again?”

“No!” he protested. “He just showed up, I swear!”

I didn’t know what to believe. All I knew was that my heart was suddenly pounding furiously. There was a chance that he wasn’t here to see me, but rather Edgar. That’s what I hoped as I secured my purse strap over my shoulder and started briskly away from the desk.

Byron promptly blocked my path.

I didn’t say anything to him, just moved to the right to try to step past him. He matched my movement, which made it very clear that he was here to see me.

“Get out of my way,” I said. I didn’t care why he was in the lobby of my office building. I had nothing to say to him.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” I was already frustrated and spoke louder than I’d intended. I glanced around surreptitiously to see if any people were staring. No one seemed to care about me and Byron as they headed toward the exit.

For now. If our “conversation” continued, I didn’t doubt we’d end up with an audience. The last thing I wanted was an ugly conflict with a dozen witnesses. So I made a quick step to the left and moved around him, then hustled to the front door.

Byron was on my tail. I could feel him. But I didn’t turn. I breezed through the door behind someone else who was exiting and hurried onto the street.

I took about ten steps before I felt a hand clamp down on my shoulder. Even though I knew it was Byron behind me, I flinched nonetheless.

“Damn it, Vanessa. You will talk to me.”

“What?” I demanded as I whirled around. My chest was heaving, my breathing labored.

“I want to see my daughter.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, I heard you. But considering you’ve been a deadbeat dad since before Rayna was born, what you’re saying may as well be in Chinese, since it makes no sense to me.”

“I want to see Rayna. Let’s set up a time and meet somewhere you feel comfortable.”

“Like in your bookie’s office, perhaps?” I asked.

“I’m done with the gambling. I already told you.”

“And I’m just supposed to take the word of a liar?” Byron had been around intermittently when I’d been pregnant. One of those times had been when my friends had thrown me a baby shower. He’d gathered the presents and driven me home from my sister’s place—only he hadn’t given me all the gifts I’d received for Rayna. Some ended up missing and—you guessed it—were never seen again.

“A guy can change, Vanessa. I’m ready to be a dad.”

“Not gonna happen,” I said.

“She’s my daughter.”

“No, she’s not.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Maybe biologically, but not in all the ways that matter. And that was your choice, Byron. Not mine.”

“Don’t be a bitch,” Byron snapped. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

I laughed sardonically. “Better a bitch than a deadbeat. This conversation is over.”