Page 17 of Rekindled

Seven

At the suggestion of Journee, we all piled into Zyair's army green Range Rover to head to a local market fifteen minutes away from the cabin. Journee kept her husband company up front and I sat in the backseat with Maven. She kept her head turned to her window, watching as the trees and open land moved on the other side of the vehicle. I knew this because every so often, I'd glance her direction to see if she'd glance mine.

Maven looked phenomenal and smelled even better. An odd thing to point out, but honestly, you don't realize how much you miss a person until you reunite with their scent. I pulled out my phone and skimmed through a few emails to distract myself twice during the ride, but that was useless. There was much to see in my email inbox, but the woman sitting beside me kept stealing my attention.

I missed her, I definitely missed her. Knew this before arriving at the cabin and seeing her standing in front of the window. Thought I was hallucinating, but when I realized it was really her, I remembered how many wakeful nights I've spent thinking about her.

Most of the ride to the market was quiet, giving all of us an opportunity to think, I guess. I couldn't be all that mad at Zyair or at Journee. They just wanted to spend time with their friends, even if they got their wires crossed. I just prayed that Maven and I could get through the next few days without getting into it... an argument, that is.

When we arrived at the local gourmet market, Zyair parked the truck and we all hopped out. Maven walked up ahead with Journee, and I fell back in step with Zyair.

"I'm really sorry," he apologized for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

"It's cool," I replied, adjusting my wool scarf around my neck to block out the cold. The air outside was brisk but not harsh. A comfortable winter in one of the most stunning cities in the country. Things had to be cool.

I could see streams of our breaths in the air as we made our way closer to the market's sliding doors. Dust of snow covered the ground. Snow removers had cleared a path to the market's entrance, piling snow on the sides of the road in heaps.

We'd stepped into the market. Journee grabbed a shopping cart and she and Maven went in one direction while Zyair and I went in the other. I selected a couple of things to snack on before dinner and cradled them in my arms until I was close enough to the cart to drop them in. Journee promised a surf and turf dinner back at the cabin, and I was looking forward to it. She was an excellent cook who knew her way around a spice rack, so I knew I could rely on her coming through with a delicious meal as always.

"How's work?" Zyair asked, as we caught up with the women in produce and tailed behind them.

"Great," I replied. "Signed a few new artists last month. They're about to change the game in a major way."

"Dope."

"I'm hosting a showcase next spring. I'll send you an invitation. You should hear some of them." I tapped him on his chest with the back of my hand. "I feel a collaboration in the works between the label and your production team."

He laughed. "Oh, no doubt. I would love to be a part of that. You got the vision, so if you say these artists are artists to know about, I want to know them."

I snickered while nodding. We'd made it out of produce and into individual aisles, weaving around shopping carts.

I'd switched my focus to the middle of an aisle and caught a pair of green eyes focused my way. I connected with them and the moment I maintained eye contact, she smiled, making me smile back. The woman looked away shyly and continued up the aisle.

It was never difficult to catch the eyes of women. With more women than men, I found myself constantly surrounded by them, but honestly, I didn't spend too much time entertaining their attention. Work has been my focus. Moving up at Dope Records has been my primary purpose. All else fell to the wayside, including Maven.

Man, I didn't want that relationship to end. From what I remembered, it was beautiful. I loved the freedom that came with being with Maven. She never pressed me about spending more time because she had her own thing she was doing. But even when we were investing late night hours at the office or in the studio, we still found time to check in with each other and to arrange days where we hung out just she and I. And the lovemaking. The lovemaking was whenever we were around one another. The attraction never faltered, not even the night before Maven told me she couldn't be my girlfriend anymore. I loved that woman, still did. But she wanted something I couldn't give her. Something I was sure I couldn't give anyone at the time.

We all turned down a second aisle, and I was again within feet of the green eyed beauty. She stood on the arches of her riding boots, doing her best to reach for a jar of pasta sauce located on a higher shelf.

I left Zyair's side and approached her, easily extending my arm high, grabbing the marinara sauce she was reaching for, then placing the glass jar into her cart.

She tilted her head back to look up at me, wearing an even bigger smile than the one she flashed me earlier.

"Thank you," she said. "That was thoughtful."

"It's no problem," I told her. "From what it looked like, it would have been difficult for you to get it yourself."

"Lana," she offered without missing a beat. I smiled, and she giggled to herself. "My name is Lana, and you are?"

"A waste of time, girl," I heard over my shoulder. "Trust me."

I switched my head to my left to find Maven there grabbing two jars of organic tomato paste.

"I'm sorry?" Lana questioned to my right.

"Oh, you will be if you entertain this one." Maven rolled her eyes up at me and my jaw dropped.

"Excuse you?" I challenged.

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