“I went through the same thing when my marriage ended. I know what you’re going through.”
“Of course.” I suddenly remember hearing the surprising news that he and his wife parted about a year ago.
“That’s why I thought…well, I wondered. You know, if you ever wanted to get dinner sometime. Do something to take your mind off your troubles…”
I appreciate the gesture, even if he isn’t my type. “Maybe in a couple months,” I tell him.
“Why don’t you take my number? Call me. Whenever. If you want, of course.”
Greg rattles off his number, and I jot it down.
We end the call, and no sooner do I drop the cordless handset on my bed, than I shoot to my feet. I head out of my apartment through the door that connects to my parents’ house by way of their kitchen.
I find my mother upstairs in the laundry room, standing at the counter folding towels. Seeing me, she smiles brightly.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
I walk into the room, saying, “I just heard from Greg.”
“Oh, he called.” Her hands rest on the pile of unfolded bath towels and face cloths. “Did you make a date for dinner?”
“What were you thinking?” I ask her. “Greg? He is totally not my type.”
“Which is exactly why I thought he’d be perfect for you. You haven’t exactly chosen wisely before.”
My mouth falls open. “How can you say that? You liked Adam! You couldn’t wait for me to marry him!”
“That’s not exactly true. I always had reservations about your union. His father is a womanizer, and that’s a trait I believe runs in the family.”
“You never said—”
“I was hopeful, but proven wrong. I’ve come to terms with that now.”
I eye my mother skeptically. I’m not sure I should believe her. She was helping me plan the most lavish wedding Atlanta’s black society would ever see. Why would she do that if she didn’t think I’d be happy with Adam?
“But Greg,” my mother goes on. “I’ve never heard a bad thing said about him, nor his father or his uncles. And from what I can tell, they absolutely adore their wives.”
“That’s because they have no choice,” I quip. “They aren’t exactly the most attractive guys in Atlanta.”
My mother stops folding a large white towel to gape at me. “Claudia Fisher. I did not raise you to judge people by their looks.”
“Mom, it’s true.”
“It’s also true that Greg is a well-respected doctor.”
“A plastic surgeon. Hmm, I wonder if he’s ever thought of going under the knife himself.”
“That’s awful!”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…”
“Just that you like all the pretty boys—boys like Adam Hart?”
“Well. Yeah,” I answer honestly. “Besides, Greg’s divorced.”
“With no children. No baggage to tie him to his ex. For a man his age—”
“I’m not interested,” I stress. “The truth is I’m not really interested in anyone.”
Now my mother moves toward me. “If you tell me that you still have feelings for Adam—”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Good. Because given everything you learned about Adam, you need to count your blessings that the two of you didn’t marry after all.”
“I know that. Hell, I was the one who was engaged to him.”
“My point is that Adam is the kind of man you cut out of your life with a clean slash—and you don’t look back. And you certainly don’t shed any tears over him.”
“I haven’t.” Okay, so that’s a bit of a lie. I’m only human. I was in love with Adam for four years. When you really care for someone, it’s not easy to turn off your feelings for him overnight. That said, it took me about a week to really move past him, come to the realization that the motherfucker was a piece of shit I was better off without.
“I’m not saying Greg’s not a nice guy,” I go on. “Clearly he is. But…but I’m not attracted to him. You’re attracted to Daddy, aren’t you? You don’t want me to marry someone simply to say I’m married?”
My mother meets my eyes with a steady gaze. “You’re not getting any younger.”
Wow, that floors me. Renders me speechless.
But only for a moment.
“I’m not going to settle,” I tell my mother, my anger toward her barely contained. “I will never do that.”
And then I turn and walk out of the laundry room. I am seriously tempted to run, but I don’t want to give my mother the satisfaction.
When did my marital status become her biggest concern? What about my happiness?
I know she means well. But still.
When I reach my apartment, I make sure to lock the door behind me.
I’m not sure what rattled me more—my run-in with Arlene or my chat with my mother. I only know that I need to vent, so I grab my cordless handset off my bed and call Annelise. I put her on hold while I call Lishelle, hoping to connect her on a three-way call. But Lishelle doesn’t pick up, which means I can’t have a serious bitch session with both of them at the same time.
“Annelise, you still there?” I ask when I press the link button to connect back to her.
“I’m still here. You okay?”
“I’m pissed.” I take the next few minutes to fill her in on the chance meeting I had with Arlene Nash. “Do you believe that bitch’s nerve? I’m not sure what she was trying to do.”
“Rattle you, obviously. And it worked.”
“What pisses me off is that she admitted she was sleeping with Adam while we were still together. While we were engaged. That whore.”
“She’s that kind of woman. Some are simply like that. They get off on thinking that they can steal your man. People like her make it their life’s mission. What they don’t get is that if they can steal a guy from someone he supposedly loves, he’s not worth having. Trust me, I think Charles’s lover has learned that the hard way.”
“I know.” A sigh escapes my lips. “I shouldn’t let her even get to me. And then there’s my mother. It’s like she thinks I’m a failure because I don’t have a man in my life.”
“She didn’t say that?” Annelise asks, a hint of horror in her tone.
“Well, not exactly. And I know she doesn’t really think that. But she’s trying to set me up with this guy who is so dull…” I blow out a frustrated breath.
“You want to get together?” Annelise asks me.
“I want to get out of town.” It burns me to know that Adam is in D.C., getting on with his life like he never hurt me. He was never charged with embezzlement in the scandal surrounding the Wishes Come True Foundation, but I hope he can’t outrun the tainted brush of scandal. And secrets have a way of coming to light in a town like D.C.
“Out of town, hmm?”
“It’d be nice. Get away from Atlanta and do something fun. Everywhere I go in this city, I feel like people are staring at me. Pitying me because