Stealing the sun, p.7

Stealing the Sun, page 7

 

Stealing the Sun
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  “I’m afraid not. We’re all blood and bones over here.”

  At his words, I stall my breath and narrow my eyes to slits. What the hell is happening?

  “You don’t look so good,” he says, shifting to get up.

  “No, I’m fine. I need to use the restroom. Be right back,” I say and sprint off to the back.

  CHAPTER 12

  Clarissa

  I rush down the side hall and take a glance behind me. Tyson is focused on his phone, and I pause. I shake my head and continue to the bathroom, checking the stalls before I dial Rissa.

  “Hello.”

  “Rissa, oh my gosh. I’m having a meltdown.”

  “What? What’s going on?”

  I take a deep breath and spill everything. How I showed up and the guy from my dream was here. How Tyree had to leave early, and how I’m hiding in the bathroom, loudly whispering, trying to make sense of this.

  Her laugh fills my ear, and irritation comes over me.

  “Rissa, this is serious.”

  “Is it, though? Okay, okay, you’re right, But let’s take a moment and be fucking for real.” Rissa always has a way of getting right to the point. “Lis, I love you, but you’re doing too much. Like do you think this is some kind of premonition or bad omen?”

  “I mean, maybe,” I say, biting my nail and clutching the phone to my ear.

  “Let’s break it down. You can’t conjure up faces you’ve never seen before. Even artists need real people as a reference to create. So is it more or less likely that you saw a picture somewhere from Tyree or social media, forgot about it, then pulled it back into your subconscious while combating the stress of wedding planning solo dolo?”

  I press my fingers into my temple and turn to stare at my reflection in the mirror. “Damn, Rissa.”

  “I’m just saying. You’re freaking out for nothing. That man doesn’t know you from a can of paint. Whatever feelings you had in your dream cannot be held against him.”

  This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this. One time, I had a lively dream of Tyree in bed with twins, and I held onto that anger for days. Eventually, I did have to accept it was only a dream and he didn’t actually cheat on me, no matter how real my heartbreak felt. She’s right. Tyson is a perfect stranger and Tyree’s best man.

  I take a breath and stare at my reflection. “Thank you, Rissa.”

  “Hey, what are best friends for?” she asks with a laugh, and I throw my head back with a groan.

  “I know, I know. Let me get back out there.”

  She laughs again, and we say goodbye. I fluff my hair and walk out of the bathroom. Tyson is still on his phone, but as I get closer, he puts it down and gives me his attention. I give a closed-mouth smile and take a seat.

  “So, do you mind if I call you Issa?”

  What would Rissa say to that? What are the odds of him calling me the same name from a dream as a nickname no one in my life has ever used?

  “Sure,” I mutter as the waitress approaches us with her arms full.

  “Oh, can we get this to go?” Tyson steps in about Tyree’s lunch.

  “Sure thing. Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, that’ll be all.”

  A chicken sandwich is placed in front of me with a small cup of chicken soup.

  “Oh, that smells good,” Tyson says as he unwraps his silverware. He has a salmon and shrimp dish with a side of green beans and salad. We begin to eat, and this is still so awkward. I’m typically not a girl who is afraid to eat in front of a man, but he still makes me nervous. Those eyes continue to dart away from his plate, and my stomach churns when he gives me such intense focus.

  “Issa, so what do we have on the agenda?”

  I cover my mouth to finish my bite and take a sip of water.

  “Agenda?”

  He places his fork on his plate and claps. “I’m here to help with anything you need. Tyree mentioned you’ve been handling a lot by yourself, and I’m still finalizing things with the move, so I have more free time than I know what to do with.”

  “You’d help me…with wedding stuff?”

  “Absolutely. I know Tyree is not the planning type. Even back in college, he just wanted to be told where to show up for the party, but his ass refused to set up.” Tyson’s laugh is deep, and my eyes snap to him. Again, I get another flash of a distant memory from that dream, but his words ring true.

  “That definitely sounds like Tyree.” I finally got his mom to stop adding new people to my guest list, and he was very little help with that. She was really about to invite her nail tech and wax lady to my wedding.

  “So, give me something,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts. I tilt my head and put my napkin on the table.

  “I can be particular. I mean, I’m no Bridezilla, but I have a vision.” I shrug.

  “Cool, fill me in on this vision, Ms. Issa.” His voice comes out with that unique accent—a mix of his past and present selves co-mingling.

  “Your accent is so different.”

  “I know. My mom won’t let me hear the end of it.” He smiles and gives me his focus. “Let’s stay on track, though. Willing participant at your disposal here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”

  I lean back with a half-smile and dig into my purse for my phone. I forgot my book at home, or it would have been packed in my purse. However, I keep a running list in my notes and update it each day as things are completed.

  “Let’s see. How are you with taste testing?” I ask, finally relaxing in my seat.

  “The best.”

  “Okay, I’ve been on the hunt for a decent menu. All our recommendations so far have been terrible. I really need to get that full menu booked. It’s one of the last major things still on my to-do list.”

  He takes a bite of his food and chews as I speak, humming and giving me his full attention.

  “I have a few ideas. What type of food did you have in mind?”

  “Honestly, I wanted to go with Chinese and be done with it, but Tyree’s not the biggest fan. He’ll eat it, but I could have it every day.” I smile, thinking of the next time I can indulge.

  “I feel you on that. There’s this little spot I found in London. The food over there is definitely an acquired taste, so I was on a mission for something with flavor,” he says with a laugh. “I found this small Chinese spot just outside of the city, and I ate there damn near every day for a few months.”

  He gets a faraway look. “Shit, I’m going to miss that place. It was a hole in the wall, and you wouldn’t think twice about it, but their dumplings? I’m telling you, the best food you’ve ever tasted. One day, I have to get y’all over there when I go back.”

  “That sounds amazing. I’ve never been to Europe. Have you always traveled? My friend Rissa, who you’ll meet at some point, travels all the time too.”

  I really want to start traveling more. It’s just my job is pretty set, and working remotely is not an option with them. I envy that about Rissa. She can literally work from anywhere in the world, and she does it frequently. Last year, she was in Barcelona for about a month. I missed her terribly, but the stories she told were amazing. She had so many tales of celebrity parties I still can’t believe it.

  “We didn’t travel when I was younger. I’m the oldest, and I have two little sisters; other than summer vacations spent at my grandma’s house, we didn’t do too much. So when I got an offer, after my internship, to work in the Spain branch, I jumped on it. But I didn’t stay in Spain. I could work from anywhere, so I’d spend time in different parts of the country and then sort of work my way around Europe, even making a few trips to South America and Canada, just because nothing was stopping me and I’d never been, so I did it.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, and I sit back in my seat.

  “Wow, you’re kind of goals right now.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you done something about it? No judgment, but if you want to travel, then travel,” he says so smoothly. True to his words, I feel no judgment from him. It’s a fair question that I don’t mind answering.

  “My job isn’t really structured for remote work.”

  “Do you get paid an astronomical amount of money to stay put?”

  “I mean, I do okay, but no.”

  “Are your current job duties so niche there are no other opportunities for you to explore?”

  “Well, no, not really.”

  “Well, then I’ll tell you like my dad always told us. There’s nothing wrong with being selfish sometimes. If your cup is empty because you never refill it and you’re breaking your back at a company that would post a help wanted ad before you’re cold in the ground, God forbid, how would you feel?” He pauses and tilts his head. “Life waits for no one, Issa. This is the final show before the curtains fall. What do you want when you look back? A flash of you at the office or eating the best fucking dumplings in a little spot over in London that I’m now certain I’m going to get you to?”

  He laughs and sits back deeper in his chair. The steady flow of traffic in the restaurant has died down, and there are only a few tables filled next to us. “If your goal is to stay put, then go for it, but if not, you should do something about it.”

  His words settle in my mind and seep into my skin. I never heard anyone put it quite like that. Rissa travels a lot, but it’s just a thing that she does. I never thought about how I could shift my life to make those things a reality for me.

  “I appreciate that, Tyson. My mind is now spinning.” I laugh, and he joins in.

  “Cool, well, let’s spin it into a menu. I think I can come up with a few places for us to try. Tyree is coming too, right?”

  “Yeah, he will.”

  “Okay, cool, I’ll have a list for you before the end of the day.”

  We continue our lunch, and that awkward haze has lifted. Tyson is funny and has so many stories about Tyree from their college days. I think we’ll get along well.

  CHAPTER 13

  Clarissa

  I sneeze into my elbow for the fifth time in a row as I walk from my car to Rissa’s shop. Damn, my allergies. She found a place downtown that was perfect. The front is all glass, and her shop name is displayed in perfect cursive lettering.

  Rissa’s Boutique.

  Mannequins in the shop window are dressed in sequin and rhinestone gowns. Her placement is perfect as she’s centered between a custom jewelry store and a hair salon. I smile as I open the door to walk inside. There’s always a giddiness I feel on Rissa’s behalf for the success of her shop.

  My phone chimes, and I pull up a text from my soon-to-be mother-in-law.

  Mother-in-law: Hey, I just wanted to check in to see how you’re doing?

  Me: Thank you. I’m good, everything is coming along. I’m about to go to the shop now. Rissa is doing our fitting.

  Mother-in-law: You’re so lucky to have a friend design your gown. I resembled a shower loofah at my wedding.

  I laugh because I’ve seen the wedding pictures, and she is not exaggerating. She was all frilly layers of fabric that completely took over her frame.

  Me: You were still a beautiful bride.

  Mother-in-law: So sweet. It’s a lie, but still sweet. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Enjoy your day.

  Me: Lol. You too, talk later.

  I tuck my phone in my back pocket and walk into the shop.

  “Rissa!” I call out. The shop is closed to the public since she’s doing a fitting for my bridal party. “Hey, y’all!” I shout when I see my cousins sitting in the back.

  “Hey, cousin!” they reply in unison, and we laugh.

  Only four of the eight could make it, and I walk up and give Becca, LaDi, DaDi, and Mia each a hug. I was disappointed at first, but since it’s the middle of the day, I understand. Rissa has a time scheduled later this week for final measurements for the missing bridesmaids.

  “Y’all been waiting long?”

  “Nah, we just got here,” Mia says.

  A few minutes later, Rissa and her assistant Jonathan walk up from the back.

  “Ladies, we’ve got wine!” he says. Jonathan is so cute. His hair is styled long and pressed with a slight curl at the ends. He has a full, thick beard with skin so dewy I ask him what his skin routine is every time I see him. He’s dressed in dark blue slacks and a button-up shirt with a metal mesh vest. It wouldn’t work on anyone but Jonathan. He could wear a trash bag and look like something from Fashion Week.

  “Jonathan, skin,” I say with my head tilted. I’m thirty and still have the occasional pimple, which I find unacceptable. Please, hormones, recognize I’m grown. We are not in high school.

  He comes up to me with a smile. “You staying hydrated, Ms. Clarissa?”

  “Of course, I love H2O.” I laugh, and he bumps my shoulder.

  “Lis, I love you, but he’s got genetics on his side. He barely has a consistent routine and not one blemish in sight,” Rissa says, coming up to give me a hug.

  I knew that. It comes up every time, but I still ask. That chestnut brown complexion is beautiful. He should be preserved in a museum somewhere.

  “I’ll take a mimosa,” Becca says, lifting a drink from the tray Jonathan wheeled in.

  All the girls get up and grab a glass, and we talk for a few minutes. I sip on a mimosa, and my phone buzzes.

  Tyson: Who is the absolute best person in the world?

  Me: In general, I’d say myself, but Beyoncé ain’t at the bottom of the list, lol.

  Tyson: Funny. But the correct answer is me

  Me: Me? Isn’t that what I said?

  “Who is she smiling at on the phone like that?” LaDi asks between sips.

  “Girl, you know that’s Tyree’s bighead ass. He really got my cousin in love,” DaDi says with a fake crying tone. I look up from the phone with my forehead creased.

  “Uh, this is not Tyree.”

  “Who are you smiling at, then?”

  Suddenly, the entire group is focused on me. Hands are on hips, and the space is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

  Rissa places her glass down on the table and pulls me to the back by my elbow. “I want to show you this fabric I just got in.”

  Once we’re in the back, she moves us out of sight and whispers lowly. “Is everything okay? With you and Tyree?”

  “Of course, why?”

  She lets out a breath. “You know I’m on whatever you’re on. So, I just want to be clear on if we need to cancel this fitting because you want to be on your runaway bride. Julia Roberts was amazing in that movie. I should rewatch that.”

  “What?” I shake my head and laugh. My phone buzzes in my palm, but I focus on Rissa.

  “You just really looked happy, that’s all. Let’s get back out there, though. I need to get all the final numbers so we can finish up the dresses.”

  Rissa smiles at me before she’s out the door and moving back to the front. My phone chimes again, and I look at the screen.

  Tyson: Lol. It’s me. I’m the best person.

  Tyson: I found a spot so good. Can’t wait for you to try it.

  Tyson: Where’d you go?

  Me: Sorry, we’re doing the dress fittings today, but that sounds amazing. I can’t wait.

  Tyson: Cool. I’m setting it up now. I already checked your calendar. I’ll update it once it’s booked.

  Tyson has been great these past few weeks. He really took the task of finding the perfect menu to heart and has been relentless with his plans to “blow my mind,” as he says.

  I press the phone to my chest and peek down the hall. From this angle, I can see Jonathan and the girls laughing as Rissa pulls out her measuring tape and he takes notes on a tablet. I clear my throat and walk back out.

  “Leave me like five inches everywhere because six months is a long time and I like ribs,” my cousin says, and we all laugh.

  “Girl, I got you. I’m leaving room for any last-minute adjustments.”

  After all our measurements are taken, Jonathan goes to the back to upload the data and adjust the fabric for each style. We talk and laugh, and it’s one of the best days I’ve had in a while, besides the constant sneezing.

  “Girl, you sure that’s allergies and not a cold?”

  “Of course, I get them every season. I just need to go home and get my dehumidifier.”

  Everyone shakes their head at me like I made it up. I know the difference between allergies and a cold. I’m good for some essential oils to make me feel better before I dip my toe down a medicine aisle, though. Not that medicines aren’t necessary in some instances, it’s just not my first choice. But the way my head is spinning, I might have to make that decision.

  Since I’ve already taken off half a day, I decide to stop for some food on the way home.

  “Siri, call Tyree.”

  “Calling Tyree…”

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, babe, I just finished with the dress stuff and was thinking of getting something to eat. What do you have a taste for?” I press my nails into the steering wheel while I wait.

  “Sorry, Clarissa, I’m not going to be done anytime soon. You go ahead, and I’ll get myself something when I’m done here.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, why don’t you call Tyson? He’s still getting settled, and I think he’s still at the hotel because his place isn’t ready yet.”

  I pause and get over into the next lane. Tyson has been spending a lot of time at our place. I think Tyree feels bad since he’s still in the hotel. So, the idea of him having dinner with us is not new.

 

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