Stroke (A Miami Lust Novella Book 2) Page 9

  ***

  I awake to the sound of the front entrance buzzer. I scramble off the floor and press it down in response.

  “Yes, may I help you?” I ask.

  “Miss Moore, it’s Gwen from Sunset Realtors. I believe we have a 9:00 am appointment,” she says. “I’m a little early. I can wait if you aren’t ready.”

  “Yes. I’m so sorry. I’ve had a long night and I’m running just a little behind, but please come up. Number 1010.”

  I race to the bathroom mirror and see, beyond the usual puffiness and sleep-filled eyes, a pale face staring back at me. Salt has crusted my cheeks where my trail of tears dried. I splash cold water on my face and pat it dry with the towel. No sense in rehashing the night. What’s done is done and gone at this point. I take a final look in the mirror and decide I am presentable, after fixing my hair. It’s a good thing my sewing mess is confined to my bedroom.

  The doorbell rings and so begins my day. I have four Realtor appointments set up throughout the day. Hopefully one of them works out, and I can get this process finalized.

  After meeting with everyone and suffering through a ton of questions that I wasn’t prepared for, I’ve survived. Chalk this up to more learning lessons for Cassee. What a process! I never knew selling a condo was so much work. Not one Realtor asked me about the hole in the drywall, thank goodness, but each one noted it would need fixing immediately before they took pictures. I’ve already contacted the head of maintenance and he’s coming later this afternoon to measure the damage. Mateo. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. I want to pick up the phone and call him, but I keep reminding myself that I did nothing wrong.

  With every break between appointments, I go in and work on my mock-ups. The twenty costumes Lindy and I came up with are almost complete. After I get Mat’s approval, I will measure the dancer’s and move into production. Every time I think of him, my heart breaks a little more. I thought we were in a good place, but he never explained why he left early and now this issue...I don’t think we’ll ever get to a good place if stuff keeps happening. How does one small crack in the heart feel like it’s the size of the Grand Canyon? I don’t know if we can get back to where we were, but I must get on with my life and let him work through his issues. Something isn’t right, but I can’t help fix what I don’t know about.

  I distract myself from Mat by texting Lindy.

  C: Hey. I’m almost done with the mock-ups.

  L: Yay. What did Mat say? Does he like them? Did you tell him your great news?

  C: We got in a fight about my news and he left...after punching my wall.

  L: That doesn’t sound like Mat. Shit.

  C: It was definitely him. Could you take ‘em to him and gain approval?

  L: Yes. I’ll stop by at 5:00 on my way to work.

  C: Great. See ya then.

  My deadline with Lindy gives me a great excuse to plow through and finish my designs with plenty of time to spare. In the meantime, one of the maintenance men stops by to measure the hole in the drywall, eyeing me the whole time. I’m sure he can tell it’s a man’s fist punch. He remains silent while he cuts a clean square and places an equal measure of mesh over the hole telling me that he’ll return tomorrow to finish it.

  In the middle of fixing dinner, Lindy buzzes that she’s arrived. I let her in with a mixture of excitement and hesitance. What if Mat rejects what I’ve done so far? I’ll be devastated. I open the door for her, and she hands me a small box of items that need repairing from the club. Thank God this pile is much smaller than the last set. I set them to the side and grab the bag that holds the pieces, quickly walking her through them.

  “Thanks for doing this for me. I really appreciate it,” I explain.

  “Please don’t thank me. We’re in this together, remember? Do you want to talk about the fight?” she asks hesitantly. Her poker face lets me know she’s going to try her best to be impartial. She has known Mat longer, but she’s a good friend to us both.

  “No. It’s between us. I suspect it’s something with his life because it was so bizarre and nothing to get mad about. He’ll come around or he’ll lose me. It’s his choice. I’m just gonna wait him out,” I inform her. Hopefully she’ll take that piece of information back to him. “Do you have any questions about any of the outfits?”

  “No, I’ve got it. I know which costume goes with each number. I can sell him on them. They’re gorgeous. I’m impressed with you. You’re amazing and talented,” she praises me while hugging and squeezing me tight. I walk her to the door, my stomach does flip-flops in anticipation of his response.

  “Don’t you worry. I’ve got this. He’ll love them,” she hugs me again and says, “Later, Tater.” I smile big before she leaves, letting her know I’m okay. Lindy is special. She’s one of those women that exudes positivity and can always make you feel good.

  After dinner, I sit down and sort through the Realtor contracts, comparing and contrasting them. It seems they can all do the same thing. The only difference being fees, and it’s not much of a difference. The realty market here in Dade County is pretty standardized, with little room for bartering. I let the choice boil down to whom I feel comfortable with, and make a decision. It looks like my life here in Miami is coming to a close quicker than I anticipated. The contracts are signed and I left a voicemail for the agent to call me with a date and time for pictures and open houses.

  Although I’m excited to almost be done with this particular process, I’m depressed and physically feel sick. When I first arrived here in Miami, I was hoping for a quick ending. Now that Mat’s come along and this design project, I want time to slow down. I want to reset the clock on the other night with him, and pace the carpet a few more times waiting for a better celebration idea. Damn it. Why are relationships so hard?

  My phone rings interrupting my thoughts. I race to it, hoping it’s Mat. I slide the bar across the screen but see it’s Lindy.

  “Hey,” I say, trying not to sound too disappointed.

  “Hey. I showed him the costumes. Well, I made him look at them,” she explains, trying not to make it sound as bad as it does.

  “Oh,” is all I can say and I had to force that out. I’m silent for a minute. Her words sink in, and I sit down in shock. “And?”

  “He said nothing except that he trusts you and he was good with whatever you made,” she blurts out quickly. “He also took several of the pieces. I didn’t ask him for them back. I hope you don’t need them?”

  “No, I don’t need them, but I wonder why he took them?” I ask. With a deep breath and a stronger resolve than I feel, “It’s okay. I guess it’s good that he trusts me. Fine then,”.

  “Fine? Really?” she asks, her voice is raised in shock and attitude. “You and I both know that when a women says “fine” it’s anything but “fine”.”

  “No, Lindy. It’s okay,” I say reassuring her. “We’ll move forward. When should I come and measure the dancers?”

  “We have group practice on Wednesday’s at 2:00. I’ll pick you up, if you can find a way home? We’ll both measure and tackle it faster, getting you out of here quickly,” she grunts in anger.

  “Yes, I can get home, and Lindy, thank you. See you then. Bye,” I say.

  “Later,” she whispers solemnly before hanging up.

  I snuggle down into the couch cushions and cry. It’s a torrential cry. One of those soul-cleansing cries that weeps for the loss of my grandparents, the frustration over Mat, and the uncertainty of my future. Yes, Lindy. I’m anything but fine. I’m overwhelmed with despair and I’m paralyzed with fear. They say God doesn’t give you things you can’t handle, but the devil certainly knows how to dish out catastrophe.

  Where do I go from here? I should be excited, but I just can’t muster it.

  Chapter 13 – Mateo

  I wake up late, having spent way too much time on the floor after closing with Dante and Thiago drinking. Turns out Thiago is in love with Brooke, our alcohol vendor. Dante and I
knew it; we were just waiting for him to acknowledge it. His mood seems to be improving while mine has hit the pisser.

  I have a meeting with Julian Chiange this morning at 11:00 that I’m going to present Cassee’s costumes at. I’d hoped to take her with me, but it didn’t work out that way. Her work is astounding and thoroughly impressive. I’m sure he’ll see that and maybe take her on as a protégée. She deserves a place in the fashion world. Her “unmentionables”, as she likes to call them, are delicate and beautiful; a true testament to her talents.

  I realize I’m smiling as I think about her. She is my sunshine. I’m just so damn confused as to why she wants to have sex in my private room. It represents a side of me that I don’t like. It’s dirty and seedy; it brings out the unscrupulous nature in me, and I don’t like it. Degradation at its worst. I’ve not used my room near as much as Thiago has. When I do go in there, it’s usually by myself to take care of my own personal needs, not someone else’s. Yeah, I’m not proud of that fact, but I’m even less proud of the times I’ve taken women back there.

  Cassee shouldn’t be in this world of mine. She’s too pure and innocent. I can’t bring myself to jade her too. Maybe it’s best if I walk away. She’s young and will find the love she needs in a better man than me. One who doesn’t have parent issues and leads a life that she can be proud to be associated with. One who can give her the white picket fence she needs. Right now, she can focus on her career and designing her dreams. She doesn’t need me for that.

  Enough wallowing. I grab the costumes and head out to Julian’s offices. I’m greeted at the reception desk by a beautiful woman with long, dark curly hair. She reminds me of Cassee, and my stomach drops. The entire time it takes to escort me to Julian’s office, I can’t take my eyes off her hair. It bounces and sways just like Cassee’s, but it doesn’t cause any butterfly fluttering like I usually feel.

  I’m greeted as soon as we arrive by Julian himself, who offers me a drink but I decline.

  “So, thank you for agreeing to this unusual request for a meeting, Mr. Chiange. I appreciate it,” I announce.

  “Please, call me Julian. I enjoyed myself at your club the other evening. I consider it an honor to have you here,” he says. “You mentioned a business opportunity when we last spoke. What may I help you with?” he asks.

  “I have a young lady in my employment at the club who has recently graduated from the Savannah School of Art and Design. Her specialty is lingerie,” his face lifts in curiosity, so I’ve got his attention. “Her talents are wasted at my club with costume repair. Her dream is to design and have her own line, but she needs a mentor. I’m hoping that is something you’d be willing to take on yourself?”

  “Might I ask why she isn’t here chasing her dreams herself?” he inquires.

  “She would be, if she knew I was here. I’m just hoping to open a few doors for her. Give her opportunities. Options for a better life, as it seems,” I explain. “She’s recently experienced tragedy and I’m just trying to bring a little joy to her life. Give her some direction.”

  “Tragedy?” he asks. “Can you share this tragedy?”

  “She’s recently lost both of her grandparents here in Miami. From what I understand, they raised her and she has no other family. She’s alone, and I’d hate to see her talent get lost without proper fostering. I’ve brought examples of her work.” I open the bag that lays on the chair next to me and present the individual pieces to him.

  He takes each piece and evaluates the workmanship extensively. Pulling and lifting the seams, he’s looking for defects. He walks them over to several mannequins in his office and fits them appropriately. Without notice, he calls his assistant to assemble “the team” in his office immediately. Within minutes, several people enter and they all gather around the mannequins. It’s all very interesting, hearing their comments. Several are making verbal comments about necessary changes, but Julian is the one I’m interested in. He seems genuinely pleased.

  “Mr. Solis, please join us?” he asks.

  I stride over to where they stand, feeling quite nervous. For a brief moment, I’m glad Cassee isn’t here. She gets that diarrhea of the mouth talking thing when she’s nervous.

  “As luck would have it, we have recently discussed taking on a lingerie designer in-house, so this is actually perfect timing,” he admits. “It’s also one of the reasons we were in your club. We see several opportunities in taking on this new line and wanted to get some ideas, dancewear being one.”

  “As a matter-of-fact, she designed these for a re-grand opening of some bar renovations that we are experiencing. There will be new shows introduced that night, and these are the dancers’ costumes,” I explain. “I would love it if you’d come as a guest of honor and meet Cassee that night?”

  “I’d be delighted,” he offers. “Please send the particulars to my assistant and we’ll make it happen.”

  He unclasps the pieces from the mannequins and I shake hands with his team. This has been a very productive meeting, and I leave with a huge sense of accomplishment. I hope this all works out for her. She needs to rise to the top with her dreams.

  ***

  I’ve been busy with the renovations now that we’re moving forward and making real progress with construction. We got a little side-lined with the passing of Brooke’s father. He had a stroke and died suddenly, leaving a gaping hole in their business. Brooke took the reins of the company, and that caused us to be a little slow moving on the budget and plans. We are back in business and catching up quickly.

  My bed calls to me every night with an exhaustion like I’ve never felt. We’re still open for business during construction, making life tricky for the moment. It’s taken a lot of planning and flexibility with the shows on the manager’s parts, but everything seems to be working out.

  I haven’t seen Cassee in three weeks. She came in to measure the dancers for their costumes, and I walked into the lounge not knowing she was there. I stepped back into the shadows quickly not wanting to distract her. This allowed me to take in her southern drawl and mannerisms without notice, and I loved every minute of hearing her again. A few dancers made her laugh and her fairy chime washed through me making my knees buckle and give way. I ran away to the silence of my apartment, sulking at my life without her. Dante and Thiago have noticed a change in my focus, both offering differing opinions on how I should fix my problem. But I simply can’t.

  She’s too good of a person to be in this environment forever, and if we forged a relationship I know I’d corrupt her. I can’t do it. We’d end up like Mom and Dad, together but separate and that’s what I can’t live with. She needs to find that person who can be her Earth. The solid rock; the one she can rely on, who keeps coming back to her because they’re good for her. I can’t take her innocence away. That’s a guilt I can’t live with either.

  I know Cassee’s out of town now with the contest that she won in Savannah. Lindy has kept me up-to-date with her whereabouts since our falling out. I don’t ask about her, but Lindy feels the need to advise and I let her. She means well, and I know she’s a good person and friend for it. Cassee will be back tomorrow, since it’s dress rehearsal day. The grand renovation re-opening is in a few days, so I’m mentally preparing myself to run into her. But how do you prepare to watch the love of your life move on without you, knowing your bad for them? It fucking sucks being a nice guy.

  There’s a part of me that wants to scream at my dad for giving me his DNA and my incomplete resume. I’m ashamed of what the Solis name is because of him. He’s dirty and has tainted our family reputation with illegal sex and his greed for money. It makes me sick. He neglected our mom because of his greed. A great woman died a lonely wife. All she wanted was the love of her husband. Dirty blood runs thick through all of us. Who knew a grown man could have Daddy issues? He made sure of it, and I can’t force them onto Cassee. I was wrong that day I asked her for more, and that eats at my soul daily.

  The minute she asked
me to take her to my private room here at the club, I knew it. Clarity dawned like the bright morning sun. I suddenly felt all my past dirty, lustful actions thicken my blood. Anger washed over me, and I took it out on her. I’m ashamed of myself, and I can’t get past it.

  She’s better off without me.

  Chapter 14 – Cassee

  It was great to be back in Savannah, but I’m glad to be home in Miami. Home. It feels like home here; not since I left Eclectic have I felt like I belonged somewhere. The only thing missing is my relationship with Mat. He’s the one corner piece of my puzzle that fell to the floor and I can’t find it. I no longer know where to look or what to do to fix it.

  Weeks have gone by since we started this project, and now the big day has arrived. Dress rehearsals were perfect yesterday. Everyone’s costumes fit, and were praised by all the dancers. I couldn’t be more thrilled with the outcome.

  I finally got to meet Thiago. He’s intense, and that voice...man oh man, but he’s a genuine man who loves his brothers. I wasn’t prepared for the family resemblance to Mat, but I survived. Dante even came to welcome me with a tight hug and a wish for much luck. I don’t know how much they know about myself and Mat, but I got the feeling they knew something. My heart hurts deeper; it’s like a bruise that just won’t heal.

  My bag is jammed pack full of extra materials, thread, needles, buttons, Velcro, and elastic. I’m prepared for anything. The dancers are starting to arrive, and the mood is energetic and contagious.

  “Hi, Cassee,” I hear a familiar voice from behind me. Mateo. I turn and become paralyzed in the memories that flood forth in an instant.

  “Hi, Mat. How’ve you been?” I ask, curiosity and my own insecurities push the question through my lips. He looks tired and defeated. Dark circles have faded under his eyes, but are still visible enough to draw my attention immediately. I suddenly become aware that I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm when I spoke. I draw it back quickly, causing him to flinch at its removal.