Soraya

 

Of course, Dez had to go into the office late Thursday afternoon to finish something up.

Originally, he was going to come and pick me up, but after I found out he was at Warimber, I decided to go to him. I had a feeling I was going to have to pry him away from his work.

Pulling the collar of my coat closer as I walked up the stairs, I shivered as I walked past a window. Spoiled by the unchanging sunshine of LA, I was baffled how quickly the weather could change here. Earlier it had been sunny, now it looked like it was going to snow.

The sky was dark and the clouds hung low. As the sun vanished, an intense cold had come and the wind had picked up.

Good thing I wore boots and put my heels in my bag, I thought to myself.

At the office door, I went to open it, when I hesitated and laid my fingers on the knob.

An absurd swell of nerves had hit me out of nowhere.

What if this dress is all wrong? What if someone from BU sees us? Is Dez regretting inviting me? Maybe I should have brought different shoes…

I went to pull away when I suddenly realized I could hear music inside the room. Some, old sultry salsa song was playing, one I’d heard before. Curiosity got the best of me and I peeked inside, my nerves vanishing into a ripple of laughter.

Dez was dancing by himself, his hips swaying as he held one hand up and the other at his waist. He had moves, I realized, as I watched him spin and his eyes landed on me. At that, he stumbled and I stepped in, laughing.

“Should I have worn a flamenco dress?” I asked, walking over to him.

“Hi, Soraya,” Dez said, running a hand over his head. “You could have knocked.”

“I have a key,” I teased. “And besides, risk missing that? No way.”

“Yeah, well I finished early and hey –!” He gave me a look. “I’m supposed to pick you up.”

“You would have been late,” I said, shrugging off the heavy jacket I was wearing and tossing it on a chair. “Please tell me you brought your clothes to change into.” He didn’t answer. “Dez.”

Mouth open a little too wide, Dez didn’t seem to hear me and I bit my lip. I was fighting the sudden reappearance of my earlier nerves accompanied by about a zillion butterflies.

“Soraya, you’re stunning,” Dez breathed, breaking the silence, and his eyes tracking across me. A tremor ran up my spine. He’s never looked at me like that, I thought, biting my lip harder as a warm glow burned in my stomach. Then he laughed and the tension broke. “Even with the winter boots.”

“I couldn’t wear heels in the slush!” I protested, glad that was over.

“Still, you make it work,” Dez said, his smile causing heat to rush into my cheeks.

Flustered, I walked over to an old, floor-length mirror that Professor Torres kept in his office and reassessed myself. I guess this dress is okay. It was a deep emerald green, making my eyes look a little teal-hued. Off shoulder, it swept down in low curves in the front and back and fell to my ankles in shimmering folds. My hair was down, in a glorious afro of curls around my head.

“You’re right, I can pull off the boots,” I announced, trying to sound more confident than I felt. I couldn’t believe my nerves right now. Maybe I drank too much coffee earlier.

“Well, I’m going to get changed,” Dez said. “Sorry, do you mind?”

“Oh,” I said, meeting his eyes in the mirror and walking around the corner so he was out of my sight in the back of the office. “I mean, there’s no rush,” I called.

“Who knows with traffic, though?” Dez pointed out.

“Good point,” I said inanely. I wish I could think of something else to say, but the sounds of Dez changing were distracting. I found myself thinking of the first time I’d walked into this office and he’d been standing there with his shirt unbuttoned.

I wouldn’t mind seeing the whole story under those mild-mannered crew necks, I thought.

Soraya! scolded another voice and I put a hand to my face.

Get it together. You’re friends!

“Right, right,” I muttered.

“You talking to yourself?” Dez asked with a chuckle. “By the way, I’m decent.”

Walking back, I saw he was standing in front of the mirror in his socks and holding up a tie. He was wearing a black suit with dark gray pinstripes and a white shirt underneath.

Something about this moment felt oddly intimate. This was something only a significant other might get to witness. Did he check out his outfits before he left for work in the morning like this? Did he have a mirror? How were his clothes organized? What was his apartment like?

“Soraya?” Dez was looking over at me. “You hear me?”

“No, I’m a little spacey today,” I said, moving in closer. “What?”

“What do you think?” he asked, holding up three ties. One was a plain, deep forest green. If it had been a little bolder, it would have matched my dress and been perfect. But it was too dark. The next was a black tie, classic and simple, while the third was a pattern of purple and gold.

“Hmm," I said, eyeing them. "I think I'd have to go with the black."

“It’s too bad I didn’t know about that dress,” Dez said with a grin. “I think I have a bow-tie that would match it perfectly.”

“Oh,” I said, watching him thread his tie around his popped collar, my fingers itching to do it myself. “Do we have time to go get it?”

He stopped and looked at me. “You think we should go all the way to Cambridge to get a tie? That another level of sartorialism.”

“Of course. And isn’t the reception in Cambridge?”

“You’re serious,” Dez said, shaking his head and grinning. “I mean, sure. Let’s go.”

I’m going to get to see his place?! I thought, my heart skittering in my chest.

Five minutes later, I was tucked into the front seat of a blue Kia and watching Dez walk around the front of the car. He slid in and started it, expertly navigating out of the faculty parking lot and pulling onto Comm Ave. A rosary jangled from the mirror.

“This is your car?” I queried.

“Oh no, it’s my Dad’s,” he replied. “He’s actually been hounding me to get it out on the road and make sure the engine hasn’t rusted over from disuse.” I glanced at him puzzled and Dez nodded. "Right, you're from the West Coast. We have this thing called ice and salt, totally can ruin an engine, but so can the cold. Gotta start 'em once in a while or they die."

"I see. Wait, are you staying with family?" I asked as he drove over the BU bridge.

“Well, I’m staying in the family apartment, yes, but no one is up north except for me,” he replied. “Actually, this is where I grew up from ten onwards, in the first apartment Grams bought.”

“Right, because she owns the apartment building,” I said. “And they’re snowbirds.”

A few minutes later, Dez was pulling behind a squat building I recognized from that first week when I was following him. My cheeks flamed. I’d forgotten all about that and I wondered if I should confess about spying on him.

“You can wait in the car,” Dez said as he switched the engine off. “I’ll be quick.”

“Oh, um, I’d love a glass of water,” I blurted out. Dez sat back against the door and tapped his hand on the wheel, giving me a look. “What?”

“Subtle, Lafi.” He shook his head. “Come on in and watch your step. Irv, our maintenance guy, has a bad cold and I haven’t gotten around to putting down more salt for the ice.”

He wasn’t kidding, I almost slipped when I put my feet down on the pavement. Dez came around and offered me his arm. We went through a narrow back door and up a flight of stairs to a cozy lobby. There were a few offices off of it and a wide elevator. It had an old-fashioned charm to it and everything was scrupulously clean.

Hanging on the wall was an oil portrait of a smiling woman with a gray bun. Stepping up to her, I stared, then I looked at the placard. Miss May, proprietor.

“Is this your Grams?” I asked as I realized why she looked so familiar.

“Yes, that’s the famous Miss May,” Dez said with an affectionate chuckle. “For a long time, she let this struggling artist live here and kept his rent a lot lower than she should have. She was absolutely certain he’d make it big – even though I sometimes wonder if he did – never mind everyone else. And then, after three years of my aunts telling her she was crazy, he did. Almost overnight. Lives in New York and sends her all kinds of presents. One was that painting.”

“Oh, I love that story,” I said as the elevator chimed. Inside, it was all sepia toned glass and wavy mirrors. “This place has so much character and charm. I love it.”

“Grams wanted to keep everything how it was back in the day,” Dez said, tracing his fingers across the metal filigree edge of the glass. “It was built in the 1920’s. Sometimes it winds up costing her, but she’s stubborn. And she has the money, so who are we to argue?”

We got off on the top floor and Dez led the way down a quiet hallway. The door had a cheerful wooden placard on it saying, Welcome.

The keys jangled in his hand as he opened the door and suddenly stopped.

“Dez?” I asked. “You okay?”

“I-uh, I just realized I’ve never brought a girl here,” he said, glancing back at me and laughing a little. “I mean, friends who are girls, but you’re a friend.” He shook his head. “Never mind. I think it’s because I was thinking about Miss May and she’d want to be here for this…”

Pushing on his shoulder, I followed him inside and smiled upon seeing it. “I think Miss May and I would get along very well.” Peeling off my jacket, I gazed around.

It was as cozy and old-fashioned as the rest of the building, but with a flair of quixotic taste. Lovely pieces with curves and curls, no modern clean lines, crowded the room. The floors were shining and spotless, a deep golden color to the wide planks of wood. And it was warm, like a good hug. I half-expected to see Miss May come around the corner and pull Dez down for a hug.

“It didn’t look this when I was a kid, but it’s still home,” Dez said as he went into one of the bedrooms. I was walking around, admiring the glass cabinets and many, many picture frames. A bespectacled, grinning boy was overrepresented in each of them.

I smiled. Dez, you were so cute.

“Wait, what do you mean?” I asked, turning as he came over, the bow in his hands.

“Only that it was pretty sparse. One couch and one armchair. Money was tight until I was about twenty or so.” Dez fiddled with the bow. “But, then, Miss May finally bought the building, my Dad finally landed a good job and I was working while I was in school. So, now that’s all past.”

I suddenly thought of my childhood home, the Malibu mansion in a gated shifter community. It’s sprawling rooms and sleek furniture. The views of the ocean.

I didn’t know what to say.

Dez gave me a soft smile. “Don’t look like that, Soraya, like I said, it’s all good now. And this place was always filled with laughter and love. We struggled, but we had each other.”

I brushed at the lapels of his coat, forcing myself to smile and nod. “Of course. Here,” I said, taking the bow, eager to distract myself from the pressure in my throat. “Let me.”

Dez was so, so damn loveable. His honesty and his bravery, his light way of casually talking about the hardships of his past. But I knew it couldn't have been easy. An older black woman trying to buy an apartment building and his dad struggling to find work? Dez, as a kid, probably all too aware of what was going on and how much they sacrificed for him.

Yet he never wanted pity and didn’t complain.

No, Dez focused on the positive with all his might.

I remembered, suddenly, those days of following him and how, even from a distance, he’d given me a sense of contentment. I knew now I hadn’t imagined it. All I wanted to do was fall against his sturdy chest and feel his arms around me. Let myself sag into him.

Dez could hold me up, crossed my mind and I had to restrain myself from testing that.

Reaching up, I was surprised I needed to get on my tiptoes to get the straps of the tie around his throat. His breath was warm on my forehead as I focused on trying to tie it, but my fingers were oddly shaky and clumsy. But Dez was patient even as I huffed and plucked it apart.

More than Dez holding me up, I wanted to hold him. Once he’d asked me if anyone took care of me. But, now I wondered the same about him. Who takes care of you, Dez?

“Soraya,” Dez asked a note in his voice like a caress of fingers on the back of my neck. His hands took mine and I looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

My eyes were burning with tears and I couldn’t understand it. “You,” I finally said, my voice cracking and he raised an eyebrow. “You’re too caring, you just give and give, no questions. And you’re so damn fearless and positive, it’s just…”

A laugh rumbled out of his chest and he squeezed my hands. “No wonder why you and Kesari get along so well. You both have bleeding hearts.” He squeezed my hands harder. “Please, don’t be sad. I promise you, we were always going to be okay. I’m good. Better than good, in fact.” He let go of my hands and gestured at his bow tie. “So, come on, now.”

Opening my eyes wide, I rubbed a thumb carefully along the bottom lid of each and shook myself. “I think I need a shot of espresso or something. I’m out of it today,” I muttered, fingers flying as I finished the tie. “There, you’re done.”

Dez was looking down at me and I suddenly realized my hands were resting on his chest. His heart was a steady rhythm under my right hand. But we were so close, I thought I could hear it as well. Eyes wide, I caught my breath at the expectation filling the room.

Is he going to kiss me? shot through my head.

The question had me, Soraya Lafi, weak in the knees. In that instant, I was a teenager all over again, dizzy and dreamy-eyed. Nervous as hell, too.

What is happening to me?

None of this was right. I wasn’t like this. I always held all the cards.

But in a rush of intuition, as I stared at Dez, I knew they were all gone. I’d dropped them one by one. Now I was standing here, a vulnerable and wanting mess.

How could I have not noticed?

I’m falling for you, I thought, as an intent and serious look came into Dez’s eyes.

His head bent and I stepped back, dropping my hands and eyes. Panic swamped my gut and I could barely process my own thoughts. “Wow, what time is it?” I asked in a breezy voice, clasping my shaking hands together. “We have to go.”

“Yes, I suppose we should,” Dez said, a darker note in his voice than I’d heard before.

I couldn’t look at him. I was too afraid and too infuriated with myself.

What was I thinking? How could I let this happen?

I’m not – I don’t rely on people, especially men!

Even as I said that to myself, I felt a flash of heavy guilt. That wasn’t fair to Dez, a true king among men. He was everything you could ever want and so much more.

To hide the tumult of emotions pouring through my entire body, I kept up an ongoing chatter as Dez helped me into my coat again, walked us down the hall and into the elevator. There, my panic spiked higher and I found myself desperate for the evening to be over.

“You know, you should call me a nickname, Dez, everyone does,” I rambled.

“Oh really?” he asked, glancing over at me.

“Yeah, I’ve got a million. Sora, Ray, Ray-Ray, Raya…” I babbled, sounding like an idiot. “Everyone kind of picks their own, but most people call me Sora.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” he said vaguely.

Poor Dez barely got a word in edgewise until we got to the gala. There, as I walked up the steps, my toes freezing as I’d changed out of my boots in the car, I ran out of steam. I couldn’t think of another thing to say.

Dez was oddly quiet, a strange and meditative look on his face.

But his face cleared as we walked into the opulent dining-room, all high ceilings, chandeliers, and lavishly decorated tables. My shoulders relaxed somewhat at the crowds and chatter.

Honestly, this wasn’t a place I’d expect to find Dez. Yet he fit in with ease, charming, gracious, and completely at ease.

Multitudes, I’d said to him.

And I found myself wondering what else I didn’t know about Desmond Devoy.

More than once glance came our way, some female and far too appreciative. In another second, I was bristling like an angry cat and thoughts went hissing through my head like, who do these bitches think they are looking at my man?

Not yours, idiot, pointed out a bored voice in my head.

Jealous and irrational. Another new one for me.

But I was, and I realized I was gripping Dez’s arm a little tighter than I should have been. When he looked over at me, there was a small, knowing smirk on his face and I let him go, tossing my head. Don’t even go there, Dez.

At our table, he pulled out my seat and said, “I have to go talk to a few people, okay?”

“Okay,” I said. “No worries, take your time.”

“I’ll introduce you later, don’t worry,” Dez said, that damn provoking smile creeping over his face and his eyes not leaving mine. “Right now, you can take it easy. Relax.”

Was there an emphasis on that last word or was I imagining things?

“I’m a grown-ass woman, Dez, I don’t need you,” I said and blinked. I meant to say I don’t need a babysitter. “I-I mean…”

“I know what you meant,” Dez said, moving closer and his breath tickling my neck. Chills shot down my body and he slid an arm around my waist, pressing me to him. His lips were at my ear. “Do not leave, Soraya. You and I have the first dance.”

I let out a shaky breath and then he was gone. My body shivered violently with the loss of his warmth. Turning, I barely got a glimpse of his wide shoulders pushing through the crowd as I fell into my seat and tried to slow my heart-rate.

How did he know…?