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“I’m just concerned, Zac, and I also cannot wrap my brain around the fact that Avery hasn’t called to talk to Malcolm. I would need to hear my little boy’s voice every day I was gone, as well as yours.”
“Same here.”
“To back that up even more—I’d never abandon you and our child as Avery has repeatedly done.”
“I know. I wouldn’t either.”
Stevie sighed again. “Does Malcolm ever seem to miss her?”
“Not really. And when he was in here with me a minute ago and asked if it was her on my phone, I saw the worry in his eyes where excitement should’ve been and would’ve been if Malcolm had a normal mother. I could tell that he wouldn’t have wanted to talk to Avery, had it been her on my phone and asked to speak to him. I wouldn’t have pushed him to do it either. Shit, Bash is calling me.”
“Okay, take his call and don’t forget the chicken nuggets in your oven,” Stevie reminded me.
“I’m on it.”
“And Buchanan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for talking to me about all of this.”
“I like being able to talk to you about all of this, Sinclair. You’re part of my life now and what goes on it is your business as much as it is mine.”
“Same goes for you with my life.”
I paused to think about what she’d just said to me. Or more specifically—the gift of her willingness to let me into her life to this degree.
“I really do love you,” I finally said.
“I know. I really do love you too.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.”
“Bye, lover.”
“Bye, Moby Dick.”
The limousine driver pulled up in front of Stevie’s house at 8:30 p.m. as scheduled. Bash had rented this big black beast as part of Brooke’s birthday celebration just like he did last year so that we could all ride to the party together, drink as much as we wanted, and safely make it back home. This time, instead of going to Theory Nightclub in Dallas, we were going to Candleroom. It was another upscale bar/dance club and one of Bash’s favorite places to go to because of the “posh” setting, as he called it, and also the crowd and music.
Another difference between this outing and last year’s was that this year, there was no chance of Avery being part of it since she was still in Lubbock. When she happened to walk into my bedroom and see what I was putting on to wear to Brooke’s last birthday celebration, she’d asked me where I was going and so I told her. Because of the mostly separate lives we’d been living, I hadn’t previously mentioned where I was going or why. Not only that, but I didn’t think Avery would be interested in celebrating Brooke’s special occasion since she never had been before. She suddenly was last year, though, and my only conclusion as to why was that she happened to be bored on that particular evening.
When it came to official events within the Dallas legal and business communities, however, Avery was always adamant about attending with me. I knew it was only because she wanted to make a show in front of everyone, acting like she was something she was never going to be.
In preparation for those events, she always had her hair professionally colored, cut, and styled, had her fake fingernailsredone, and always dropped hundreds of dollars on a new outfit, along with matching jewelry. And at those events, she would always look at me, talk to me, hold my hand and lean her body against mine, behaving as if she was really interested in me, proud of me, and also loved me. I knew better but played along anyway because at the time, I was still concerned about presenting a positive family image in front of those in attendance whom I knew.
The only thing that I was concerned about doing now was continuing to uphold my hard-earned positive image in the community. Not Avery’s artificial one. She was on her own and what she didn’t yet know was that I would be attending all future events without her. That also included get-togethers with my friends, such as the one that I was participating in tonight.
I viewed the timing of Avery being in Lubbock as another open door for Stevie and me to see each other again. No, I wasn’t going to be able to pull my lover into my arms and kiss her when I saw her in a minute. That would come later tonight. For now, I was going to have to desire and admire her from afar. Not because of Bash, of course. It was because of Brooke, her boyfriend Ian, her team from the office and their spouses/significant others.
“Shall we go let Joan of Arc know that her chariot has arrived?” Bash asked me.
He was sitting across the aisle from Brooke, Ian, and me while everyone else was scattered around us, talking and laughing.
“Sure. Let’s go,” I said, playing it cool.
Bash was playing his part too. He and I had already discussed how this was going to go. Once we arrived at Stevie’s house, he was to take the lead instead of me so that no red flags came close to being raised.
