Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance Read online

  I glanced over towards the living room where a college basketball game was playing quietly.

  “Wanna sit down?” he asked as he motioned towards his couch.

  I kicked off my shoes and followed him to the living room, taking my place next to him but keeping a safe distance. I didn’t want him to think I was being too girlfriend-y just yet.

  “Sorry I had to cut our date night short,” he said. “Ended up getting called in last night, just as I thought I would.”

  “I completely understand,” I said with a shrug. “Work comes first.”

  He smiled, lighting up his entire face, and I about melted. I wanted to kiss him so badly. I wanted to jump him right then and there, but I stayed frozen and firmly planted in my space. I knew were weren’t there yet.

  “Are you on call today?” I asked.

  “I got someone to switch with me,” he said. “A guy at work owed me a favor.”

  “How nice,” I said. I wondered if he did it because he wanted to spend more time with me.

  “Do you like college basketball?” he asked.

  “Um, it’s okay,” I said. So that’s what it was about. He wanted to watch basketball games all weekend. I dared not tell him that I loathed sports. I’d never really gotten into them, and watching them on T.V. was pure torture to me.

  The only times I’d ever enjoyed watching sports was when I had to accompany my parents to one of Preston or Alston’s games. I could get into it when I knew the players. I probably couldn’t name a single current college athlete to save my life.

  “It’s okay if you don’t,” he said with a chuckle. He was particularly perceptive that day.

  I sat, bored out of my mind, and tried my hardest to pay attention to the game. My mind would wander every so often, and I couldn’t help but think about what Antoine and Ayla were doing that Saturday.

  When I dated Antoine, Saturdays were spent either hiking or riding our bikes or laying around in our sweats reading good books. We were inseparable, and he was always up for whatever. He wasn’t a sports nut, so our activities never had to revolve around which games were on. I missed that.

  “So do you see Ayla Giovanni much?” I asked without thinking. I couldn’t help myself. They were at the forefront of my mind in that moment and knowing that they were neighbors, the question didn’t seem too out of line.

  “What?” he said as he paused the game and turned towards me. He was probably confused as hell.

  “Living right across from her,” I said. “She’s practically famous.”

  He scrunched his face and shifted a bit in his seat. My question clearly made him uncomfortable and I didn’t understand why.

  “I guess I see her sometimes,” he said. “Why?”

  “I just think it’s cool that you live by her,” I said. Good bluff, I told myself. “I watch her on the news all the time to see what she’s wearing.”

  He laughed. He probably thought I was a typical girl.

  “Do you ever talk to her or anything?” I asked.

  I could tell he wanted to get back to his game. I felt like I was annoying him.

  “Um, just casually I guess,” he said. He raised his remote and started the game back up.

  “I just found out that my boss is her stepmom,” I said.

  “Julianne is your boss?” he asked as he turned towards me.

  I furrowed my brows. “How do you know Julianne?”

  “Oh,” he said as he stalled a bit. “Um.”

  He picked up the remote and paused the game again. He was totally trying to buy time.

  “I helped them move some things when she first moved in,” he said. “I met her family then. Her stepmom was really nice and brought me dinner. I guess I just remember her from that.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said. It made sense, but I wasn’t so sure I was buying what he was trying to sell. If he hadn’t acted so weird about it, it might have been more believable.

  He resumed his game and fast forwarded through the commercials, and I’d decided to officially end all talk about Ayla Giovanni for the time being. I never expected to get that sort of a weird reaction from him, and now it was going to bother me.

  “Hey,” I said. “I have a favor to ask of you. And you can say no. It’s not a huge deal.”

  “Okay, sure,” he said, though his eyes remained glued to the game.

  “I have this stupid little work party coming up,” I said. “It’s like an awards banquet. Attendance is mandatory, but there’s awesome catering and free drinks. Would you maybe want to go with me?”

  He turned towards me and smiled. “Sure, why not.”

  “Really?” I was shocked that it was that simple with him. He didn’t even have to give it a second thought.

  “You had me at free food and drinks,” he said as he reached over and patted my knee with his hand.

  “Oh!” he yelled out as he stood up. He muttered a few profanities at the screen before sitting back down. “Damn it.”

  I looked up at the score to see that it was a very close game. They were going into overtime. His head clearly wasn’t into our “game,” but I was just happy he’d agreed to go with me to that banquet. Things were headed in a promising direction.

  CHAPTER 9

  My stupid awards banquet was a week after our Saturday afternoon hang out session. I’d forgotten to mention to Kevin that it was a black tie affair until the day before, but luckily he just so happened to have a tuxedo hanging in his closet. That Kevin was a classy guy.

  He picked me up in his squad car, he in his tux and I in my black, floor length, strapless gown, and we headed downtown to the Crystal Ballroom. The Harrisville Tribune was the biggest newspaper in the area, and when things went digital several years ago, they were one of the first to jump on board when all the other newspapers were stuck trying to hold onto traditional paper publications.

  Because of that, Harrisville was able to buy out a few other local papers and made some good investments with some online news and advertising companies. They could afford fancy banquets and competitive wages for their employees. I was lucky to be a part of the group, even if my job could’ve been easily outsourced to a computer.

  “You look amazing,” he said with a grin as he opened the car door for me. He couldn’t peel his eyes off of me the entire time.

  I climbed in, pulling the rest of my dress behind me, and noticed he’d cleaned up his car. It no longer smelled like day-old donuts and all the other things it had smelled like before. The dash was oiled up and the chrome knobs were sparkling.

  “Car looks good,” I said to him.

  “Thanks,” he replied. “It was due for a good cleaning.”

  “Are you on call again this weekend?” I asked as it had just dawned on me that he was driving his take-home car.

  “No,” he said as he reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m just driving this because I can.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Didn’t realize it worked that way.”

  “A lot of guys do it,” he said. “Not a big deal.”

  We pulled into the parking ramp by the Crystal Ballroom a little while later and found the nearest elevator. It was a long walk, but parking was at a premium in that part of town. My shoes were starting to dig into my heels already. I just hoped they weren’t a bloody, torn up mess by the end of the night.

  Arriving a tad bit late, we checked our coats and found a table with a couple of empty chairs towards the back. The president of the Harrisville Tribune, Mr. Vilotti, was making his opening speech up at the microphone and the crowd was hushed besides the occasionally clinking of wine goblets and silverware on china.

  The ambience was romantic. The lights were dimmed and candles were everywhere. I’d heard that the president’s wife got to plan the banquet each year, so it was no shock that it was always this over-the-top, romantic evening. It didn’t have professional or work vibes at all, and that was a good thing.

  “So I’d just like to start out by acknowledging our gue
st of honor tonight,” Mr. Vilotti said into the mic as feedback dinged our ears. “This person has been with the paper for over fifteen years. She’s my right hand gal, and I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s the one who insisted we get a jump start on digital news, and she’s the reason you are all still here. The Shining Star Award goes to Julianne Renner!”

  It was no wonder I never knew she was Ayla’s stepmom. She’d kept her maiden name. It didn’t surprise me at all. Julianne was a ball-busting feminist who took shit from no one and blazed her own trails.

  The spotlight suddenly turned towards Julianne, illuminating her entire table. To her right sat her husband, Ayla’s father, who was beaming proudly and clapping like a lunatic. To Julianne’s left sat none other than Ayla Giovanni herself, and to Ayla’s left sat Antoine.

  My heart sunk, and for a split second I wanted to throw up. I did not expect to see them there that night. The thought never even occurred to me that there might be a chance I’d run into them. It made perfect sense, though. They were there supporting Julianne.

  Julianne stood up and slapped a gracious smile on her face. She grabbed her long skirt, pulling it up a bit, and made her way to the stage. Her bright red hair played off her lavender dress perfectly as the stage lights reflected off the sequins.

  “Thank you, Stan,” she said into the microphone as she accepted her award. “What an honor. Wow.”

  The entire audience began to clap, and eventually everyone stood up.

  “Thank you, thank you,” she said to the crowd. “As Stan just said, I’ve been with the paper for fifteen years. It’s been my life. I’m proud of the work I’ve done here, and I’m proud of all of you. We make such a great team, and together, we’re going to go places. Thank you again.”

  She held up her engraved glass obelisk and exited the stage, making her way back to her table where her husband wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. Ayla followed suit before they all sat down. Antoine was smiling like an idiot, but he seemed genuinely happy for Julianne.

  I couldn’t help but feel a ping of jealousy in that moment. They seemed so happy. Antoine was happy. Antoine was happy without me.

  I felt a nudge and snapped out of it. I’d completely neglected Kevin.

  “You haven’t said much tonight,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I replied. “Guess I just don’t want to be here.”

  “That’s dumb that they make you attend,” he said with a shrug. “But man, the food is amazing.”

  I hadn’t even realized we’d already been served our dinners. I was too busy gawking at Antoine and the rest of the Giovanni clan to even notice.

  I glanced down. My dinner was still piping hot at least. The steam rose off the top of my chicken and entered my nose. I wasn’t even really hungry, but I grabbed my knife and fork and began cutting anyway.

  Kevin took a few sips of red wine before finishing off the rest of his food. His plate was practically empty. He must have been hungry. He set his silverware down and leaned back in his seat, stretching out his belly in the most nonchalant way possible. He was such a gentleman.

  I tried to eat my food as fast as I could without seeming like a wild animal. I could tell he was bored. His eyes danced around the room as people began to get up and socialize. Most of the patrons were already done eating. We must have been one of the last tables to be served.

  I ate about half my meal and threw my napkin over my plate.

  “I’m stuffed,” I said as I patted my stomach. “That was good though.”

  I took a few sips of wine followed by a little bit of water to cleanse my palate and hopefully rinse off any redness lingering on my pearly whites.

  “Should we go make our rounds?” I asked. “I think if we say hi to enough people we should be able to get the hell out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to kick my shoes off and change into something comfortable.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Kevin said as he scooted his chair out. He stood up next to me and helped me up, fixing my arm onto the crook of his elbow as he led me around the room. “Who do you want to talk to first?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. No one, really.”

  Kevin laughed. “Just pick someone.”

  I scanned the room only to have my eyes land on Michael.

  “Wanna talk to that guy?” Kevin asked after he noticed where I was looking.

  Poor Michael had presumably come all by himself (as he usually did), and was standing over by the dessert table mulling over the wide array of cheesecakes, carrot cakes, and tiramisu.

  “I guess,” I said as he pulled me in that direction.

  “Hi, Michael, how are you?” I asked, throwing on my nicest smile and friendliest voice.

  “Hey, Rashida!” Michael’s face lit up in my presence and then quickly fell as soon as he noticed my date.

  “Enjoying yourself?” I asked as I eyed the tempting treats.

  “Always,” he said with a wink. I knew he didn’t mind coming to these banquets, and I knew he didn’t mind coming alone. I was pretty sure he went to most of his movies alone, too. In fact, I was pretty sure he did most things alone.

  “Rashida,” I heard a woman’s voice say from behind me. I spun around only to be faced with Julianne in her vision of lavender.

  “Hi,” I said as I leaned in for a hug. “Congrats on the award! That is awesome. You deserve it.”

  She poo-pooed my comment and laughed. For a woman in power, she could be unexpectedly humble, and I loved that about her.

  “I wanted to introduce you to my stepdaughter,” she said as she stepped aside.

  Towering behind her was Ayla Giovanni. Her long, dark hair was thick and lustrous and framed her face perfectly. Her wide set, dark eyes were framed with the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen, and her skin was the perfect shade of flawless bronze.

  “Hi,” she said as she extended her right hand.

  I shook her hand, which was softer than a baby’s bottom, and realized that I was speechless. I wasn’t expecting to see her, let alone talk to her or even touch her.

  “You two are about the same age,” Julianne said with a smile. “I bet you just have loads in common.”

  I smiled, trying to be courteous, and Ayla said nothing. She seemed annoyed.

  “Antoine,” Ayla said as she turned around.

  Several steps back from Ayla was Antoine, standing with his hands in his pockets, probably keeping a safe distance from me.

  “What kind of dessert do you want?” she called back. “I’m going to get us something. Want to share it?”

  “Whatever you want,” he said back.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she squeezed between us to grab a plate of tiramisu.

  “Antoine,” Julianne called over to him. “Come up here. I want you to meet Rashida.”

  Neither Antoine nor I had the guts to tell her we were already very familiar with one another. It was probably in both of our best interests to pretend like we were complete strangers.

  “Mmm,” Ayla said as she squeezed back into our little circle and stood next to Antoine. She held a forkful of tiramisu up to his lips and fed him like a little baby.

  Antoine seemed a little embarrassed, but he went with it.

  “Oh, you two,” Julianne laughed. “Rashida, you haven’t introduced me to your date yet.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said as I placed my hand on Kevin’s arm. “This is Kevin Harris.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said as she shook his hand. She didn’t let go though as she peered at him through the corner of her eye. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

  I recalled Kevin’s story about helping Ayla move some furniture, and I thought for sure he was going to bring it up, but he stood there in silence. The cat had his tongue or something.

  “Anyway, you four should get out of here. Go get some drinks or something. Get to know each other,” she said. I could tell she’d had a few too many goblets of wine, and
she was clearly still reeling from winning her big award.

  I looked at Antoine and we exchanged awkward looks. I could tell he didn’t think it was a good idea.

  “On me!” Julianne added. She could sense the hesitation. “Tonight’s a night to celebrate, and you don’t need to stick around with us old fogies.”

  She reached down into her sparkly lavender clutch and pulled out a crisp hundred dollar bill and handed it to Antoine.

  I looked over at Kevin, who was staring at Ayla. Ayla scrunched her nose at him, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell that meant.