Decadent Desire. Zuri Day
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“Perhaps. But what you will do is accept the generous offer to be ferried in your silver chariot from this building to my car.” He leaned down and kissed her scowling lips. “You’re welcome. How was the flight?”
“Fine, since I slept through most of it. Doctor gave me pain meds. Can’t feel the throbbing ache in my ankle, which is great. But I end up not feeling much of anything else, either.” She pointed out a large piece of hard plastic luggage with a colorful strip of material wrapped around the handle. “That’s mine.”
Julian retrieved it. “How many more?”
“That’s it.”
“You packed clothes for a four-to six-week stay in one suitcase?”
“You said I’d be treated by the best...what did you call him?”
“An orthopedic specialist.”
“Yeah, him.”
“Even the most gifted doctor cannot make the body heal faster. Here, you roll the suitcase and I’ll roll you.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
Julian quickly got Nicki settled into the front seat, and less than an hour from when he’d arrived at Oakland International Airport, they were headed back to PC. With rush-hour traffic waning, he set the cruise control to a law-abiding seventy miles per hour.
“You were supposed to call me last night.”
Nicki spoke through a yawn. “Forgot.”
“That was disobedient. When we get home, I’m going to have to spank you.”
“Lucky me.”
Said so sincerely and with such deadpan disinterest that Julian burst out laughing.
“So...what’s the official verdict? Broken?”
“Technically, no, and did you know that an actual break or full tear of the ligament and tendons would have been better than the partial tears that I have?”
“I’d heard that before.”
“I hadn’t. Doesn’t make sense that a more serious break would heal faster.”
“Life doesn’t always make sense.”
Nicki fell silent. When they were together, she was usually the more talkative of the two. It was one of her traits that made them such a perfect couple. People didn’t recognize how quiet Julian was when he and Nicki were together. The rare occasions when she was quieter than Julian were very obvious. Like now, when the only sound was the neo-soul on Julian’s playlist.
He looked over. “You okay?”
She didn’t answer right away. While staring out the window she finally replied, “Not really.”
“I understand.”
Nicki made a skeptical snort. “Please.”
“I do, babe.”
“You have no idea what I’m going through.” Nicki’s piercing look was only matched by the ever-increasing volume of her delivery. “How could you? You’re not a dancer! You haven’t been working toward a dream for well over ten years and then right when you are just about there, so close you can throw a rock and hit it, and thirty years old, something happens that takes it all away. Unless that exact thing has happened to you, there is no way you can relate.”
Julian became silent, subconsciously and without thought interpreting the behavior from a professional perspective. Hurt. Fear. Disappointment. Misplaced anger. Nicki had lashed out at him, but her anger was actually toward the situation and the man on the bike who’d instigated it. Fear of the unknown and the unproductive projecting of a worst-case scenario upon an unpredictable situation. Understandable, considering the fickle nature of entertainment. In one day and out the next. That’s why he knew better than to comment. There was no right answer for this type of reaction.
The silence lasted through two more songs.
Nicki repositioned her leg. “I hate when you do that.”
“What?”
“Psychoanalyze me—and don’t deny it. Over there all calm and quiet. I know what you’re doing.”
“Okay.” Said low and drawn out, as if testing the word to see if any repercussions would come along with it.
“Stop!” Nicki punched his arm, but she was smiling. “Is there ever a moment when you’re not trying to figure someone out?”
“I can’t help being who I am, love.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven. This is a tough time. What did the director say?”
“I was supposed to call him after meeting with the specialist. I decided to wait until I see the doctor that was recommended to you. Do I have an appointment?”
“The earliest I could get you in was this Friday.”
“Today is Tuesday.” Nicki did a slow exhale. “I’ll call tomorrow and ask Milo to wait until Friday to make any...permanent changes. Dammit!” Nicki used her good foot to stomp the floor.
They continued to talk intermittently between Nicki’s quiet spells. Knowing she was in no mood to socialize, Julian waited until they were ten minutes outside Paradise Cove and then called in an order to Acquired Taste for Nicki’s favorite meal.
“I have some news that will make you feel a little better.”
“What?”
“A place for us to stay.”
“You bought a house?”
“I just closed on it. I hope you like it.”
“What matters is if you like it. I’m only going to be here for a couple weeks.”
“I know, but...you’ve always been uncomfortable staying at my parents’. So I had Terrell bring me a couple listings. I chose a town house that resembles a brownstone on the inside.”
She gave him a look.
“On the inside, I said!” He reached over and took her hand. “I know that no place will ever come close to your beloved Brooklyn or Manhattan. But I want to make you as comfortable and happy as I can while you’re here.”
“Ah, that’s sweet, babe.”
“I do have to warn you about something.”
“What?”
“I just got it, so it’s pretty empty.”
“I’m sure I can make it work.”
“Just letting you know.”
They arrived at the echoing town house a short time later. A sectional sofa was the living room’s lone furniture. The master suite was also sparsely furnished, its major feature a king-size bed. Julian helped Nicki shower, tucked her in bed, then joined her there with two tray tables. They watched TV while enjoying burgers and fries. Once the trays were removed and they’d finished their drinks, Julian pulled back the covers and raised the short nightie that covered the shaved lips that he so adored. The good food, hot shower and crisp clean sheets had been arranged with the intention to make Nicki more comfortable. Now it was time to make both of them happy.
A steady throb served as her alarm clock. The ache forced her eyes open as she slowly floated up from a pain medication–induced fog. Her eyes flickered against bright sunlight and over to the digital clock on a nightstand. Ten o’clock? No way. She fell back against the pillows, but