Page 3 of Night and Day
Tamika swung to face him, and Anton cleared his throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut off whatever question she was about to ask.
“What do you have to tell me about Melissa and your boyfriend?”
Planting her hands on her hips, she replied, “You’re not going to like this, but I think your girlfriend and my boyfriend ran off together.”
Anton crossed his arms. “I told you, Melissa’s on a business trip.”
She shook her head vehemently. “She lied. Calvin’s gone, and now you’re telling me she’s gone, too, and I know for a fact they’ve been seeing each other.”
“What proof do you have?” Calvin asked.
“Text messages, plus one day I followed him and saw them holding hands at a restaurant, but I only saw the back of her head.”
Stunned, Anton didn’t speak for a moment. Maybe he hadn’t heard her right. “Holding hands?”
Tamika nodded. “That’s right. Your girl might be on a trip, but it’s not business related. Calvin told me he was leaving on a weeklong guys’ trip, but he took way too many clothes for seven days. And he emptied my bank account.”
“Hold up, he stole from you?” This story was getting wilder by the second.
“Yes. He took everything—almost ten thousand dollars. Thanks to him and your girlfriend, I don’t have any money. I-I’m broke!” Her voice cracked.
Then, as if the gravity of the situation hit her all at once, tears filled Tamika’s eyes and her face crumpled. She dropped to the sofa, burying her head in her hands as she sobbed out loud.
2
Tamika couldn’t believe she’d broken down in front of him. A complete stranger. Like a weakling.
“Here you go,” Anton said.
She took the glass of water he extended. “Thank you.” Sipping self-consciously, she looked everywhere but at him as he settled in the armchair across from her.
“I’m sorry this happened to you. To find out that your boyfriend’s cheating on you and that he stole all your money must be devastating.”
“That’s an understatement.” Tamika cradled the cool glass in both hands. “But I knew he’d been cheating on me for a while. I didn’t know he’d run off with my savings, though.” She gulped down the last of the water before taking a deep breath and finally looking at Anton across the glass coffee table.
At least he didn’t seem as irritated as before. The frown was temporarily gone, and she warmed to the sympathy in his eyes, and thankfully her nipples had stopped tingling from the brief contact at the door.
Anton Bevins was handsome, bordering on pretty. Pretty-handsome. He had the kind of face that made you do stupid shit, like cancel plans with your girlfriends when he called last minute.
Tall, with light-brown eyes, he made her temporarily forget the reason she’d shown up on his doorstep at this god-awful hour in the morning. With thick eyebrows, a light-brown complexion, and serious eyes that didn’t flinch or avert when their gazes met, his direct stare made her insides quiver in an odd way. His hair was cut low, and his sturdy jawline accentuated by a goatee and mustache. She regretted he’d covered up his tight body, which consisted of a sculpted chest that tapered to a lean waist, and abs that could star in ab-crunching infomercials on late night television.
A quick perusal of his place when she was alone had shown that he was the neat and orderly type. Even the photos on the wall, which initially seemed like a haphazard collage, were put together in a sequence that commemorated fun times and special occasions like birthdays and graduation in an obviously chronological order based on his age progression in the photos. She didn’t see any that looked like they might include Melissa. She’d hoped to finally see the bitch’s face.
“How did you find out that Melissa and Calvin are together?” Anton asked. The frown was back.
“A few months ago he started acting weird. Suspicious, really. He started walking out of the room to take calls, and he didn’t leave his phone lying around like he used to. One night he came home smelling like perfume and swore that it was one of his clients—he’s a graphic designer—who’d hugged him after he took her out for a congratulatory dinner. Of course I didn’t buy that bull shit, so I figured out his password. It’s his grandmother’s birthdate. Throw in a random symbol like an ampersand and boom, I got into his phone. I read his texts while he was sleeping one night.”
Anton’s eyes widened a smidge, but he didn’t comment on her sleuthing. “What did the texts say?”
“I learned a lot. One time your girlfriend texted him this address so he could pick her up.”
“He camehere?” Anton asked, incredulous.
“Yes. She said you were working late, so Calvin took her to dinner. I remember that night, too. I make cosmetics and was working late on some packages that had to go out the next day. Instead of helping me, he ran off with her to dinner.” Tamika crossed her arms, fuming at the memory. “Of course I didn’t know that at the time. Mostly they sexted each other—talking about times they’d spent together, how much they enjoyed it, using eggplant emojis, et cetera, et cetera. She also sent him pictures of herself in lingerie—and without. Never her face, though.”
For a split second, Anton looked startled. Knowing his girlfriend had sent sexy photos to another man must be shocking and painful. Heck, she’d been shocked to see them.
“He used the same combination of numbers and symbols with his grandmother’s name as the password for his computer and I logged in there, too, to see what I could find out. I checked his emails, but they’re mostly work-related, a few from friends, and spam. I didn’t find airline ticket confirmations or any information to tell me where they went.”
