Page 42 of Crave

“I knew it! I just had a feeling.” He gets up from his chair, walks around my desk and slaps me across the head.

“What the hell?”

“That’s for being stupid. What the hell were you thinking?” I just shake my head at him, unwilling to tell him about running into Samantha. No one, except for JD, knows about her, and only JD and Troy know about the DUI arrest.

“I just got in my own way, Dad. I thought I’d screw it up just like I always do, and I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“Why do you have it in your head that you’re a screw up? You’re not, Son. You’re human and you’ve made mistakes, just like everyone else who walks this planet. All is not lost here. Find her and do what men have done since the dawn of time. Beg. And when you’re done, bring her over on Sunday.” After that declaration, he comes up and slaps me on the shoulder. “It’s about time, Son.”

“Dad, did you hear what I said to you? Begging won’t change anything, and she’s not coming over on Sunday.”

“I have faith in you, Jake. She was willing to listen to you, and she’ll be willing again. You’re tenacious enough to make it happen.”

“What about all the other shit?”

“What other shit?”

“Jesus, old man. Are you hard of hearing? Besides the fact that she won’t return my calls or texts, our families do business together. She has an issue about the race thing. And I haven’t even told her about why I got into that fight with Troy at Mom’s party. Weren’t you listening?” I run my hands over my face again, totally irritated by my father’s inability to pay attention.

“I heard all of that. I guess I just don’t see what the problem is. Our families will continue to do business together. You two getting involved doesn’t change that at all. And the race thing? Who cares? We don’t. You two won’t be the first or the last interracial couple on the planet. I have a feeling she doesn’t really care about that either. Now, that scene you made at the party, that’s probably what she’s worried about. Why you made that scene, and how you’re going to convince her that you won’t be making any more of those scenes in the future. That’s your biggest hurdle. The other stuff is just fluff. Now, I didn’t raise you to wallow. Grow some balls, think of a plan and get her to listen to you. If I can chase after your mother for an entire year before she would even look at me, you can fix this. Come on, let’s go have some lunch.” He grabs my arm, and I get up from my seat. He slaps a hand on my back and guides me towards the door.

“Thanks for listening, old man.” I won’t admit it to him but talking to someone else has made the situation seem somewhat fixable.

We walk outside my office, only to find Troy standing a few feet away from the door. He looks at Dad, and Dad just nods to him.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” I’m not sure if he says that for my benefit or Troy’s, but as soon as Troy hears it, he heads towards the break room, leaving us to follow him.

“Seriously, Dad? What the hell?”

“I didn’t tell him anything. He was concerned about you.” Typical fucking Troy. Always the so-called good guy, making sure everyone is okay. Five years ago, it would be him in my office, but unlike Dad, he wouldn’t have had to pull it out of me.

“I don’t need his concern.”

“Son, if you want that woman in your life, you’re going to have to let go of that bitterness. No woman is going to want to be involved with you if she believes you are holding on to resentment because of your feelings for another woman. She won’t care what the circumstances are. And Jake, be honest with yourself. You don’t have any more feelings for Tracy. This is about you and Troy, plain and simple. And sooner or later, you two are going to have to figure this out.”

CHAPTER 11

JAKE

I’m Jacob Clark. I want what I want, and I won’t stop until I get it. Until a few years ago, I had the perfect life. Everything I’ve ever wanted has been handed to me on a silver platter. Some would say that I’m spoiled and entitled, unable to take no for an answer. Some would think that those are bad attributes, but I don’t. I’m tenacious. Determined. Persevering. Persistent. Never willing to give up. Those are the traits that I’ll need to use today.

These characteristics are what propel me to into La Belle Bakery on Saturday morning. After getting a professional haircut and my beard trimmed the evening before, at exactly 9 o’clock, with my head held high and my laptop bag slung over my shoulder, I walk through the front door.

The bell rings as I open the door, but with the throng of people already inside the bakery, no one pays attention to me as I get in the back of the line. I’m practically invisible among the chatter and laughter. I peek to the front of the line, and I see her. Her back is turned towards me as she fills an order, so I take a moment to study her body. She’s wearing a black t-shirt today with black skinny jeans, but her Converse are pink. No headband rests on top of her curly hair. I don’t know if she’s aware, but she’s dancing. Her hips are swinging from side to side to an old song, Chaka Khan’sAin’t Nobody.

I look at her body from the top of her curly head, to her narrow waist, and her tight, round ass. An ass I could have had my hands on all week if I wasn’t an idiot last weekend, but that’s the past. Today, I can make things right.

My mouth goes dry when she finally turns around. Instead of her trademark headband, she has a black rose behind her ear. Her black t-shirt, with the pink bakery logo written across the front, shows off her perfect breasts. Breasts I could have had my mouth on all week if not for my stupidity.

I reluctantly stop ogling her breasts and look at her face, and she’s stunning. Her skin is flawless and she’s only wearing lip gloss today. She laughs at something a customer says, and I find myself smiling along. She scans the long line, and her eyes land on me. Almost instantly, the smile vanishes from her face. Her nostrils flare and her full lips thin out into a straight line, but she doesn’t look away immediately. She locks eyes with me for several seconds before she breaks eye contact, effectively dismissing me before she helps the next customer.

The line moves along quickly, and when it’s my turn to order, the friendliness that Sandy showed towards the other customers is gone.

We stare at each other, neither one of us saying a word, but I take note of how she looks at my body. I purposely put on this gray V-neck, long sleeve tee because of the way it shows of my pecs and upper arms. I wonder if she’s aware that she licked her lips as she looked at me? She returns her gaze to my face, arches her eyebrows, signaling that she’s waiting for me to speak.

“Large coffee, a couple of those muffins,” I say as I point in the general direction of the muffins. “And one of those things over there.”

Without a word, she fills my order, rings me up and hands me a to-go bag.

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