Yep, I knew just how to do it.
I glanced at my watch when I arrived at Blackbird; it was 7:15pm. The host came over to seat me. I thought about waiting for Todd to arrive, but then I figured I might as well head to our table – I could order an appetizer and a few drinks just in time for Todd to arrive.
The host was young and had a fresh, young, innocent appeal. She wore a fashionably tailored white top and form fitted skirt, very simple yet elegant. Her skin was flawless and her makeup was done as if she were going to a photo shoot after her shift. I couldn't help but stare, especially since Simone and I were in search of a new model for our upcoming campaign – and her look would be perfect. She seated me at a corner table, quaint and secluded. I figured it would be perfect; in case I wanted to give Todd a foot massage under the table, no one would have to know.
“Have a great dinner,” the host said as a smile crawled across her butterscotch face.
“Thank you; I will,” I said.
The young girl turned to walk away when I added, “Excuse me?”
The young girl turned back around. “Did you need something else?” she asked.
“No, I mean, yes – I was just wondering if you were a model?”
The young girl blushed, looked down, then back up. “No, I'm not, I'm a film student at Loyola, why?”
“I was looking for someone to do some print work for me,” I replied. “I'm in advertising.”
“Oh, that's cool,” the girl said. “Well, I did do some modeling in high school, but my passion is to become a director.”
“A director, huh?” I wanted to tell her that she could make a ton of money on that face of hers, but who was I to deter her from her dream? “Well good luck with that,” I said.
“Thank you, and enjoy your evening,” the young girl said. She smiled politely and walked away.
I glanced at my watch; it was now 7:30pm, and Todd was officially thirty minutes late. I grabbed my cell phone, dialed his office and heard the machine come on. I then dialed his cell, thinking that maybe he was stuck in traffic, but it went straight to voicemail. Hmmm, why was his cell phone off? I wondered. I then texted him on his cell phone and waited patiently for a response.
7:45pm and still no response. I started to get worried. By eight o'clock, my appetite for food, as well as for sex, had been replaced by a slowly growing rage. I paid for my two drinks and one cold appetizer and headed for the front door. The host gave me a quizzical look as I politely smiled back and headed out the door. No need to stop and explain why I was leaving – and besides, I needed to find out what happened to Todd.
I hailed a cab and headed home, thinking maybe he forgot about our date. Between Alana and opening his practice he had been very forgetful, especially about things that mattered to me. His drive and focus that were once very attractive to me were now thorns in my side.
I took a deep breath and thought, okay, maybe he is working so hard he lost track of time. I mean, what else could have caused him to stand me up, right?
Wrong. As my cab headed down Randolph towards home, it stopped at a red light and as I turned to my left I saw the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the ultimate fucking no-no – my man and Alana having dinner. Together. That's right, I said to-ge-ther. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was hoping it was mistaken identity, but as I stared even harder, I realized it was them.
I told the driver to stop immediately, as I nearly jumped out of the still moving cab. I walked with much purpose toward the restaurant called “Nine” as I focused in on them like a sniper on his prey. I felt heat escaping from my ears, nose, and neck with each step that I took. I picked up my phone and dialed Todd's cell number one last time, but it went straight to voicemail again.
Does this man think I am a fool? How will he explain standing me up on our date to be with Alana, a friend, or so he claims? I felt my heart pumping faster and faster. I approached the door and entered the restaurant, but when the host asked me if I had a reservation, I told her I didn't need one and wouldn’t be there long. I turned, took a deep breath, and told myself not to make a scene. I was headed their way when Todd looked up to see me marching his way – well, their way. I was going in for a slam-dunk. Todd immediately jumped up to block my play.
“What are you doing here?” he said, guiding me back toward the entrance of the restaurant. I jerked away from him.
“What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing here? We had a date tonight.”
“Oh shit!” he exclaimed.
Oh shit! Oh shit! Is that all this mofo had to say for standing me up?
“Did you just say ‘Oh shit?’” I asked.
“Baby, I can explain,” Todd said.
“Please do,” I said, “because I cannot wait to hear this one.”
“Alana called me at work all upset because she found out that Avery was cheating on her.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it's been going on for two years,” Todd said. “Crazy, huh?”
“Who gives a shit, Todd? Is that why you stood me up?”
“Kai,” he said slowly, “this is serious.”
“Serious?” I repeated. “Newsflash, Todd – Avery's an NFL player, cheating to him is like breathing. Alana knew that when she married him. Hell it's probably written in their fucking vows.” My voice was starting to escalate.
“How about you show some sympathy?” he said.
“How about you show some respect?” I shot back sharply.
“Can we talk about this at home?” Todd pleaded. “I will explain everything then, but right now she's really going through it.”
“Yeah?” I replied sarcastically. “Tell her to join the fucking club.”
“You need to lower your voice,” Todd demanded.
“Really? You need to act like you have a goddamn girlfriend.” With that I turned to leave; I didn’t really want to, but I did.
“Kai!” he yelled.
“Go to hell!” I yelled back.
By the end of our fight, the whole restaurant was tuned in, and Alana had a front row seat.
I headed out to the street to hail a cab. I couldn't believe that Todd wasn't coming after me; he just stood there and let me walk out of the restaurant. Fucking bastard.
For the first time in my life I was hyperventilating. I always thought it was an act when others did it, but, now, I knew it could happen, because right then I needed a brown paper bag more than a homeless man needed a bath. I walked down Randolph Street, and could barely feel my feet and legs propelling me forward. I didn't know what to do. I felt helpless, frustrated, angry, and sad. Alana Brooks had a hold over my man that I couldn’t seem to penetrate.
***
A few hours later, I was in the bed in a fetal position, trying to hold back the tears, but they had a way of forcing themselves out. I didn't know what to do; I loved Todd with all my heart, and we had an amazing relationship, with just one exception – Alana. Her mere presence was driving a wedge between us and I didn't know what to do.
I heard the front door open and close, so I wiped the tears away and pretended to be asleep. I listened as Todd slowly headed towards the bedroom. The door slowly opened and I could hear him walking towards the bed. I didn't want him near me, but at the same time I longed to be held in his arms. I listened as he took off his shoes, slacks, and shirt. He slowly, carefully slid into bed next to me.
I didn’t want to let him know that I was still awake, wondering, worrying, and crying. Todd slid closer towards me and I felt the heat from his body, smelled his cologne, and wanted to cry – but didn't. His hand gently touched my side as he slid his arm around me and a tear fell from my eye. He pulled me into him as I felt his breath on my neck. A lump was quickly forming in my throat as a stream of tears continued down my face. I sniffed; he spoke in a faint, gentle whisper.
“Baby, please don't be mad. I never intended to stand you up tonight, and I’m sorry. I know it's hard to take that my best friend is a woman, but underst
and that nothing is going on between us. I love you and only you.”
I was silent; the lump in my throat as well as in my heart wouldn't let me speak.
“I wanna make this work. The truth is –” Todd paused to take a deep breath. “Alana was so upset she was contemplating suicide, and I couldn't let her be alone, not at that moment. Sacrificing our night out to be with her was a hard decision to make and I'm sorry, but I promise I will make it up to you.”
I listened but did not respond.
Todd nestled his face in my neck, as he kissed it two times. “Baby, I don't want to lose you. I love you.”
More tears fell, and my pillow was soaking wet. I couldn't turn to face Todd, not knowing what type of reaction I would have. So I lay there and silently cried. I don't remember when I finally fell asleep, although I do remember Todd's arms around my waist – and a void in my heart.
CHAPTER 11
LIVING IN EMERALD CITY
The next few days were hard to deal with. I felt so confused, I couldn’t think straight. Was I being insecure and irrational? Was Todd telling the truth? Was Alana just a friend, or was she positioning herself, waiting for me to walk out of the picture? My thoughts bounced back and forth like a Ping-Pong match; I hate him. I love him. I'm going to dump him. I need to stay with him. The one thing I hated, even despised, was coming off as the insecure girlfriend. That's why I had been biting my tongue.
Dumping Todd would be the ultimate insecure move, not to mention it risked throwing him into Alana’s arms, and I can't go out like that. I needed to regroup and figure out how to handle the situation like the creative and intelligent person that I am. I needed a plan, a solution.
I needed Simone.
I dialed Simone's extension and her voicemail came on. I told her that it was imperative that she called me, that I needed to talk about something very important. I hung up and a scant few seconds later my phone rang. Thinking it was Simone calling me back, I was shocked when I heard my assistant telling me I had a visitor. I quickly checked my daily planner, hoping I didn't forget about a meeting or appointment, but I had nothing scheduled. I asked my assistant who my visitor was and she replied, “Alana.”
“Shit!” was my initial reaction.
I paused, not knowing what to say next. Why in the hell was she at my job? I mean, hell, Todd wasn’t there, so why was she? I told my assistant to wait five minutes and send her in.
In those five minutes I tried to think of every reason why Alana wanted to talk to me. Is she finally going to tell me that she is in love with my man? Or worse, my man is in love with her? Or even worse, they are in love with each other? Shit. I started to feel droplets of sweat forming under my armpits. I didn't like being in situations like this; I hated surprises, especially when the surprise was on me.
My assistant buzzed me again. I felt rushed, almost irritated, as I told her to send Alana in.
Alana entered my office, almost apologetic in a way. I could tell by her body language that she was just as nervous as I was, which oddly enough made me feel a little more at ease. I couldn't imagine for the life of me what she wanted, but I knew it had something to do with Todd. We locked eyes as she made her way towards my desk. She wore a mint green wrap dress that hugged her body perfectly. Her hair was slicked back into a small ponytail and her make-up was perfect. I couldn't help but think that whatever this woman puts on, she looks flawless in it. It wasn't fair, and it was almost as if the universe was playing an ironic joke on me.
“Hey, Kai, I don't mean to bother you, but I really needed to talk to you,” Alana said as she sat down in front of me, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap.
“Sure, what's on your mind?” I responded with a convincingly calm demeanor.
Alana began rubbing her hands up and down her skirt as if she were attempting to smooth out the wrinkles, but there was not a single wrinkle to be seen. Alana was nervous.
“About last night, I wanted to apologize for what happened. I was a basket case and well, I didn't know who else to call.”
“Alana, it was not a big deal,” I said as I swallowed extra hard, knowing damn well it was a huge deal. I hated that I had just said that.
“The way you ran out of the restaurant, I thought, well…” she said, her voice trailing off without finishing.
Alana’s hands stopped moving for a second, and then started up again.
“I just thought you were extremely pissed off,” Alana continued.
I knew that was my chance to correct what I had just said, to tell Alana that I was so freakin' mad I could have body slammed both of them right there in the restaurant. Then I would appear insecure and jealous – you know, the kind we all read about in those “Dear Abby” columns. I wasn't going out like that. So I took a deep breath and threw on an “I’m cool with it” smile.
“Actually, Alana, I was more disappointed than pissed. I was looking forward to spending last night with my man.”
“Believe me, Kai, I understand and I am sorry that I took your night away.” Alana shifted in her seat, looked me dead in the eye, and added, “Did Todd tell you what happened with my husband?”
I sat there for a minute wondering if I should tell her that I knew about her cheating husband even before she did.
“He didn't,” I lied.
“Well, I don't want to bore you with the details, but long story short, I'm getting a divorce,” she said. “I got married for all the wrong reasons and, well, it's just not working out.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” I said with my sincerest voice ever. Of course, I wanted to add, I guess when you take a vow to love, honor, and fuck everything breathing, things tend to take a turn for the worse, but I held my tongue.
“Yeah, it's for the best,” Alana said.
“I guess everything happens for a reason,” I said as we held an awkward stare. In that moment I knew that Alana’s divorce translated into sucking even more time away from Todd and me. Could I honestly say she was doing it on purpose? My insecurities said, “Hell fucking yeah!” but my rational side saw a woman who was lonely and needed friends. Either way, something had to change. I needed a plan, and fast.
CHAPTER 12
THE PLAN
“So what am I going to do?” I asked Simone as I sat across from her in her office. I couldn’t believe that this situation had come down to this, asking my best friend how to keep Todd’s best friend away from him.
Simone sat, contemplating. She took a deep breath, and then announced, “This is perfect.”
“What?” I said.
“Simply perfect,” Simone said again.
“Perfect how?” I was having a hard time seeing exactly what Simone was seeing, but I waited patiently for her explanation.
“Alana’s getting a divorce because her husband cheated on her, right?”
“Like a champ,” I said.
“Kai, don’t you see how perfect this is?” Simone said again.
“No.”
“Honey, when a woman gets divorced there is already a self-esteem factor involved, and it only doubles when the reason she’s getting divorced is that her loving husband cheated on her.”
I was starting to see where Simone was going with her simply perfect idea.
“Ah, so her self-esteem is probably low right now,” I said.
“I'm talking rock fucking bottom; can’t get any lower than that,” Simone said as her mind continued to churn. “So this is what I propose: we need a new model so we hire her.”
“Hire who?”
“Alana.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “You can't be serious. I'm not hiring Alana.”
“Hear me out, please. We hire Alana and her deflated self-esteem; pump her up; make her feel beautiful again, you know. Tell her what she needs to hear right now to lift the suicidal bitch up, and at the same time you have a bird’s eye view of her every move, as well as an opportunity to keep her so busy on our camp
aign that she won't have time to fart.”
“Damn, that is good,” I said.
“No, it’s fucking brilliant,” Simone boasted.
“Is it smart to have her around so much?” I asked.
“Kai, are you familiar with the saying, ‘Keep your friends close but your enemies closer?’”
At that moment I got exactly what Simone was trying to do and I loved her even more for it.
“I love you.”
“I know,” Simone shot back with confidence.
“Now all you have to do is fire that mousy face model I just hired, meet with Alana, and offer her the modeling gig.”
“Do you think she'll take it?”
“Please! Can a gay man work a runway?” Simone said, raising the rhetorical question with a lift of her left eyebrow. She grabbed her daily planner and headed out of her office.
***
I called Alana the next day and asked if she could meet me at Avenue M at noon, a restaurant on North Milwaukee Ave. I clearly let Alana know that I had some very important business to discuss with her. She called me back to say she had to make it 1pm since her nanny wasn’t available until 12:30.
Alana arrived at 12:45, wearing a white strappy dress that stopped right above her knee and her shoes of choice, a pair of turquoise Prada sandals with a matching purse. Her hair was slicked back into a neat bun and her face looked as if the sun had kissed it. Just a mere glance at Alana made me think that we had made the right decision.