Chapter 2: Lonely Night.
"These came in for you." Naya says, walking into my office with a bouquet of white roses in her hand.
"Is there a card?" I ask her.
"Yes." She says, handing me the card after she places the bouquet on my table.
I open the card and I read it.
"Happy Birthday Valarie. I love you."
Smiling at the letter, I place it down on my desk.
"Who are they from?" She asks me.
"Andrè. Now, send Mrs. Lopez in." I tell her and she walks out of my office.
Seconds later, Mrs. Lopez walks in.
She looks broken.
She slowly sits across from me and takes her gloves and sunglasses off. Her puffy eyes and red nose signify that she has been crying.
"Good morning, Mrs. Lopez." I say, smiling at her.
"Morning, Valarie." She replies. "I asked for this meeting so that we can go over some things." She says and I nod, listening to her.
"My husband's funeral will be in a week's time and I want you to give a eulogy." She tells me.
"Um...sure. I'll do it, your husband was a very dear friend of mine and the company. So, yes I will be honored to say a few words." I tell her.
She smiles at me before she breaks down in tears. I hand her a tissue and she wipes her nose with it.
It's so hard to see her this way.
This shit sucks.
"I'm sorry. You probably don't need this, especially not on your birthday." She says and I shake my head.
"It doesn't matter. Today is just a regular Tuesday to me." I tell her.
"I'll be on my way now." She says, standing up from the chair. I stand up from my chair and I walk over to her before I give her a warm hug.
"Everything is going to be fine. I'm here if you need anything." I tell her, rubbing her back.
"Thank you, Valarie." She tells me, pulling away. She puts her sunglasses back on before she walks out of my office.
***
It's lunch time now and I am starving. My staff just sang me the happy birthday song and I've never felt more awkward. I just stood there and didn't know what to do with my hands.
I'm currently at the restaurant across my office. I just ordered a Caesar salad and Naya is sitting across from me, sipping a margarita at one in the afternoon.
"I know that face." Naya says, staring at me.
"What face?" I ask her.
"What are you thinking about?" She asks me, folding her arms.
"Nothing. Look, I'm hungry okay. I just wanna eat and go home." I tell her, truthfully.
"Mhm." He hums, before she brings the straw to her lips again.
"Stop staring at me like that, for real." I tell her.
"What? I'm not doing anything." She says, chuckling.
"So, how is Logan?" I ask her.
"He's good. But very busy. We barely spend time together." She says, swirling her straw in her drink.
Logan is Naya's boyfriend. He is a professional boxer. He is away most of the time and it really takes a toll on Naya because she gets lonely.
"He has to work, you know this." I tell her.
"I know, but shit gets lonely. New York is so boring when you're all alone." She says, downing the rest of her drink.
"It is not. You're just a homebody and you're lazy as fuck." I say, eating a piece of tomato.
"You're lucky you're my boss, I was about to say something way out of line." She says and I roll my eyes at her.
"Oh, please. It's the truth. You need to get out there. I would suggest a girls night out, but it's my birthday and Andrè is waiting." I tell her, wiping my hands with a napkin.
"Check please." I yell at the waiter.
"Oou, you're gonna get dicked down." Naya says, clapping.
"I am not. We're probably gonna have dinner and then he'll head home." I tell her.
"Sure." She says, putting on her jacket.
The waiter comes to our table with the check and I hand him my card. He walks off and I stand up from my seat, grabbing my purse from the table.
"Here you go, Miss." The waiter says as he hands me back my card.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Andrè is here." I say, hugging her.
"I'll see you. Don't break the bed." She tells me, pulling away.
"You're something else." I say, shaking my head at her before I leave the restaurant.
As I step out of the restaurant, I see a black town car waiting for me. Hurrying into the car, I get into the passenger seat and put on my seatbelt.
"Hey." I say, staring at Andre.
"Hey." He says, smiling at me. His eyes brighten up as he looks at me.
"What?" I ask him.
"I can't look at you?" He quips back and I blush.
"Shut up and drive." I say, laughing.
He revs the engine to life before speeding down the road.
***
"I would have never guessed that." I say, laughing.
"Of course you wouldn't." Andrè says laughing with me.
"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask him, pretending to be offended.
"No, I didn't mean anything by it. You're just kinda slow, that's all." He says, taking my hand in his.
I swat his arm away and he laughs.
Andrè and I are at this French restaurant called "Chez Maman." I just finished the most delicious apple pie I have ever tasted. This is the highlight of my day.
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot to thank you for the flowers you sent to me today." I tell him.
"Um... I didn't send you any flowers." He says, staring at me with a confused look on his face.
"You didn't?" I ask him and he nods.
"Did it come with a note or something? Maybe you can use that to figure out who sent it." He tell me.
"No, it didn't." I lie.
There's only one person that would send me white roses and I don't even want to think about him.
It's been five years since I left him at that hotel. I never spoke to him after that. Not even when he won his first Super Bowl, or his second, or third. I kept my distance like I promised myself I would. And he did too, but now he's sending me flowers?
"What if they weren't from him?" My subconscious asks.
I hope and pray that they weren't from him because it's hard getting rid of Zachary Henderson.
"Are you okay?" Andrè asks me.
I nod.
"Let's get out of here. I think there are other things we can do." I say, flipping my hair as I stare at him.
I lean across the table, my boobs pressed against the mahogany wood. Andrè stares at my cleavage and gulps.
"I'll pay and then we can go." He tells me.
"Good." I whisper.
Andrè stands up and heads towards the host and my phone buzzes in my purse. I don't bother checking it. I grab my purse and I walk to where Andrè is standing.
"Are we good to go?" I ask, placing my hand on his back.
"Yeah." He says, holding me by my waist.
We walk to the car and drive to my house in total silence. The sexual tension between us is driving me crazy. Andrè parks the car in the underground garage and I step out of the car.
I walk towards the elevator as Andrè trails behind me. Stopping in my tracks, I reach under my dress and take off my lacy thong and toss it towards him.
Quickly, I rush inside the elevator and I close the doors before he can get in. I press the '10' button and the journey to my apartment begins. After a short elevator ride, I arrive at my front door. Walking inside my house, I take my shoes off and then my silk olive green dress meets the floor. I take my bra off next and I drop it at the door of my room. Lying naked on my bed, I wait for Andrè.
It's cold in here.
What is taking him so long?
"Well, he did have to take the stairs?" My subconscious reminds me.
I need to put something on or I'm gonna freeze to death in here.
I walk towards my dresser and I grab a pink silk robe and I wrap it around my body.
Walking to my living room, I pick up my bra, shoes and dress.
It's been five minutes, where the hell is André.
My phone rings in my purse and I take it out.
It's Andrè.
"Hey." He says.
"Where are you?" I ask him.
"I'm on my way home. My sister called me, it's my mom." He tells me and I gasp.
"Oh God, is she okay?" I ask him.
The only reason Andrè decided to work for me is because his mother is suffering from breast cancer and he needs the money for her chemotherapy. I offered to give it to him for free, but he insisted on working for it.
"I don't know." He says and I sigh. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay." He tells me.
"Yeah." I say, softly.
"I'm sorry about tonight." He apologizes.
"Pfft, don't be. Making sure your mother is okay is way more important than sticking your dick inside of me." I tell him and he chuckles.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Vee." He says, before he hangs up.
I sit on the bed after placing my clothes and purse on the chair in my room. Staring at the clock, I yawn before I get in my bed.
It's so quiet in here, but the silence doesn't bother me. For me, it's just another lonely night in New York City.