Seven
My damned arms hurt, and I wasn’t even finished yet.
I dropped my shoulders and tipped my head back to stare at the ceiling, grateful that I’d – finally – successfully removed the last weft of my sew-in weave, but simultaneously devastated by the knowledge that I still had to unbraid, wash, and blow dry the mass of hair that had been waiting underneath.
This shit is going to take all night.
But still, I soldiered on, as I worked on my second bottle of wine. Blake, Kora, Chloe, and Nubia all had stylist recommendations for me after my fiasco earlier in the afternoon, but I’d declined all suggestions.
With my luck, the new stylist had probably been fucking my husband too.
The only safe choice was to do it on my own.
I’d convinced my girlfriends to leave me to myself, and found my way into the bathroom with my Bluetooth speaker, some wine, a pair of scissors, some hair clips, and a comb. In the mirror, I’d carefully snipped the thread holding my expensive bundles to the cornrowed hair underneath, until it was all a tangled pile on the floor. Then, I set to work taking down the braids until my hair – as in, the stuff that came from my scalp – was all free.
And a mess.
But, I felt lighter.
I washed and deep conditioned, taking the time to give myself a fresh mani/pedi while the products soaked into my hair. Afterward, I picked up my blow dryer, to stretch it out before I plugged up my flat iron. I didn’t make it to the straightening step before somebody knocked on the door, which brought a frown to my face.
I wasn’t expecting anybody.
Thinking quickly, I managed to tame it into an oversized bun by the time the knock sounded again, and I rushed through my suite to see who it was. I took a step back from the peephole, surprised at who was on the other side. While I was debating whether or not I wanted to answer, he knocked again, and I took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Asher,” I said, looking up at Kellen’s best friend. “What are you doing here?”
His gray eyes widened a little, and he ran a hand over what looked to be a freshly cut fade. “A man can’t come check on a friend who’s having a tough time?”
“Is that what we are, Ash? Friends?”
He shrugged. “I mean… we used to be. You don’t call me anymore, don’t write, so maybe not.”
“Well, considering the fact that your bestie seemed to always be somewhere he shouldn’t, doing something or someone he shouldn’t… I figured I’d save you the uncomfortable position of having to lie for, or defend him.”
Ash drug his full bottom lip between his teeth, chewing at it for a second before he pushed his hands into the pocket of his dark brown leather bomber. “I don’t have a rebuttal for that. Other than… thank you.”
“Mmhmm.”
Neither of us spoke for a moment, but then a slow smile spread across his handsome, lightly freckled face. “So… are you going to let me in, or not?”
I narrowed my eyes a little, considering it before I nodded. “Sure, Ash. Why not?”
I stepped aside for him to enter, not expecting the way I’d be affected by the aroma of his cologne as he passed. It wasn’t exactly the same as Kellen’s, but it was similar enough that it made my eyes water with tears I had no intentions to shed.
“This is a nice ass hotel,” he said, looking around as I closed the door. “Pat said you were holed up in some “ten-star” hotel, but now I actually believe her.”
So that’s how he knew where to find me.
Pat was Kellen’s mother, and I’d given her my contact info at the hotel in case she needed to reach me before the funeral. Not that there was much conversation necessary between us now that Kellen was gone, but still. She was my husband’s mother.
“So you’ve talked to her? To his family?”
Ash nodded. “Yeah. They uh… wanted me to talk to the police.”
I frowned. “Talk to the police? For what?”
“To… help gauge their conduct on this trip for the funeral, from what I gathered. They wanted to know… if you were guilty. If you killed him.”
“That is ridiculous, and you know it. I did not kill Kellen.”
He lifted his hands, motioning for me to calm down. “That’s what I told them, and what I told the police too. They reached out to me, for questions. I told them everything I knew, because I want them to catch whoever did this – but I know it wasn’t you. You loved him… even when he didn’t deserve it.”
“Told them everything?” I asked. “What is everything?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Just… possible motives and shit I guess. Women, shady business deals, debts.”
“Debts? What debts? I paid for everything, why the fuck would he have debts?”
“Business debts.”
“What business? Kellen didn’t have any business besides screwing anything he could fit his dick in. He didn’t work. What business, Ash?!”
“Monica, damn,” Ash said, approaching me to grab my shoulders, holding me still. “Look, I don’t know everything my friend was into, and that’s not a conversation I’m about to have with his widow. I just want you to know, that the police know there are angles other than “mad wife” to explore. Angles that make more sense.”
I pushed out a breath through my nose and shook my head. “Sorry. It’s just that this is a lot.”
Ash nodded. “I know,” he said, stepping in closer, and moving his hands from my shoulders to my face. “I’m sorry. For everything you’re going through right now. Anything I can do to help?”
Again, I shook my head. “No. Not that I know of, anyway.”
“Come on,” he grinned. “There has to be something.”
I chuckled. “Ummm… do you have a spare time machine lying around? Cause if I just go back and change a few things around…”
“Really now,” he said, walking away to take a seat at the counter, and motioning for me to follow. “That’s a line of conversation I’ll bite. What would you change?”
I scoffed. “Man, too many things to name. So many mistakes.”
“Ah, don’t wimp out on me Monica. At least one thing. Come on.”
Wrinkling my nose at him, I fought – and lost – the urge to smile. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t have gone to that frat party Junior year.”
“Which party?”
“Boy you know which party,” I laughed. “Me, you, Kellen, Amanda, drunk as fucking skunks walking home in the snow, no coats, stopping every five minutes because somebody had to puke?”
Ash’s eyes went wide. “Yooo. Yes. Yeah. Yep, all that. Definitely take that one back. That was not a good look for any of us.”
“Not at all. Whatever happened between you and Amanda? I never really understood why you two broke up?”
He sighed. “Just… grew apart I guess. Shit happens. What looks good in college looks a little different once you’re grown.”
“I sure do know all about that,” I said, then closed my eyes. “Anyway… what about you? What would you take back?”
“Ah, shit,” he said, crossing his arms as he sat back in his high-backed bar chair. “Uh…. Shit. Okay, so… I had this little work-study job freshman year, right? So, one day I stayed up all night studying, took the test the next day, and then I was so exhausted that I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. So I called in, and they called somebody else to take my place. Well that dude ended up getting an opportunity that should have been mine. I regret that shit to this day.”
“What was the opportunity?” I asked, and Ash shook his head.
“See, now you’re all up in my business.”
I laughed. “Oh, is that it?”
“Yes, it is. You don’t see me telling you how to run your little press-on nail company.”
“Oh my God, nooo you didn’t!” I shrieked. “My “little” company, that’s what you’re doing right now?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I call it like I see it. Not like you’ve been on magazine covers, lists of entrepreneurs to watch, signing exclusive deals with major cosmetic stores, anything like that.”
I tucked my top lip between my teeth, trying my hardest not to grin like a fool. “So you’ve been keeping up with me, huh?”
“Hell yeah I have. Gotta keep up with your investments, make sure they’re growing, right?” he said, nudging my shoulder.
“Ah, but I bought you out two years ago, Ash,” I reminded him, and he nodded.
“Yeah, and I let you off cheap. Should have charged a “knew you way back when” fee on top of the value of my stake in the company.”
“But because we’re friends, you didn’t do me like that.”
“Only because we’re friends. If you were anybody else, I’d still have my ten percent.”
Now that was a memory to hold on to.
Four years ago, not too long after Kellen lost his job, Ash had taken a chance on me. Vivid Vixen was a fledgling company back then, still considered indie in the nail world. I had the drive, and I had the ambition – what I didn’t have was the money.
But I knew people who did.
Some were friends, and some weren’t, but everyone I approached, I approached with the same energy. “I can do this. It will be big. If you invest in me, I promise you will get your money back, if I have to mow lawns and wash dishes to do it.”
I don’t know if it was friendship, genuine belief in me, or simply a desire to get me out of their face, but I ended up with the money I needed, for the building I was in now. My own production facilities, my own research lab, my own everything.
Two years later, I bought back every single percentage of my business I’d sold to make it happen. Ash had been one of those investors.
“I’d think you’d congratulate me on being a shrewd enough businesswoman to know you were a softy, and take full advantage.”
He laughed. “Uh, that’s… a way to look at it.”
“The only way to look at it.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll drink to that… if I had a drink.”
I rolled my eyes. “Wow. Very subtle way to tell me you’d like a drink.”
His shoulders hiked up. “I mean, I’m not gonna pretend I don’t see that very nice mini bar over there, that I just imagine is full of top shelf liquor.”
“Oh I’m sure,” I told him, standing up from my seat. It wasn’t until I was halfway there that I got a little self-conscious, remembering that I hadn’t bothered with underwear underneath my yoga pants and tank, since I wasn’t expecting company. Suddenly, I felt like I was jiggling all over the place, but when I glanced back, Ash’s attention was out the window, admiring the view of the city.
“You still drink that frilly shit from college?” he asked, once we made it to the bar. “Lemon Drops, Appletinis and shit?”
I fake-gasped. “I’ll have you know that my tastes have matured. I drink sweet red wine now, the cheaper the better,” I laughed. “You still a Mauve and coke man like your friend?”
“Til’ I can’t lift the glass by myself anymore.”
He was quiet as I fixed the drink for him, and then slid it to him. He looked at it, confused.
“You’re not going to have one?”
I shook my head. “No sir, I was halfway through my second bottle of wine when you knocked on the door, so I probably shouldn’t.”
“Just a sip, Monica. Come on. Enough to drink to Kellen’s memory… the good years.”
My eyebrows went up when he first mentioned drinking to Kellen, but honestly, the good years we’d had together definitely deserved a toast. I splashed enough Mauve into a glass of my own for just a sip, laughing when Ash grabbed my hand while I was still holding the bottle, to tip in a little more.
“Okay, now that’s more like it,” he said, raising his glass, and I followed suit, even though I really was feeling a bit tipsy from my drinking earlier. “To a friend, a husband, to… a deeply flawed man, who was loved in spite of, and taken before his time. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I said, clumsily tapping his glass with mine before I swallowed the liquor inside. “Oh, shit,” I chuckled, putting a hand to my throat as the Mauve burned its way down.
“Goddamn lightweight,” Ash scoffed, shaking his head as he chugged his drink back.
“Whatever. I’ll be right back,” I told him, leaving him at the bar to duck into my room. If he noticed that I’d put on the matching jacket to my yoga pants when I came back, he didn’t react, or say anything. But, it was more for my comfort anyway.
Having my titties out around my dead husband’s best friend wasn’t a good look.
I took a seat on the opposite end of the couch from him, and didn’t think twice about it when he moved closer to the middle as he started talking. That was just Ash, always wanting to be right in your face as he talked, and talked, and talked, but honestly, I didn’t mind. As adamant as I’d been about wanting to be alone, the company was nice, and being around Ash really did make me remember the good times I’d had with Kellen, which were honestly plentiful.
Four years of friendship, friends with benefits, dating, being exclusive, breaking up, fucking, hating each other, and then cycling through it all again. That had been college. After that, those first ten years of marriage, building our careers, trying and failing to start a family, learning each other and growing together. Ash had been a pretty consistent presence around our home – he and my friend Amanda, who’d dropped off the face of the earth apparently, after she and Ash broke up.
But it had been beautiful, even with the dark moments. Really, really beautiful.
Until it wasn’t.
“Hey, I’m gonna grab another drink,” Ash said as he stood. “You want one?”
I shook my head. “No thanks.”
While he was off taking advantage of the – probably expensive – mini bar, I took a peek at my phone, my heart racing when I saw that I had a text from my lawyer, Demetria.
“Great news – I think you’re in the clear. I got Sam Turner to look into the investigation. Police are heavily pursuing other angles, possible suspects. They may have more questions for you later, but hopefully this helps you rest a little easier. – Demetria Byers (Olivia Pope)”
“Yes, that IS great news. Any developments with the break-in at my house, or the hacking?”
“Not yet, but I’ll stay on Sam about it, and keep you posted. – Demetria Byers (Olivia Pope)”
“Oh, and Monica, SERIOUSLY, try to get some rest. – Demetria Byers (Olivia Pope)”
“I’ll try. Thank you.”
“Do you remember that night before you and Kel got married, how he kept calling, and calling, and calling you?” Asher asked as he returned to his seat beside me, drink in hand.
I nodded. “Vividly. I could hear all the loud ass partying and debauchery in the background, and y’all told me it was just butt dials.”
“It was not butt dials,” Ash laughed. “Kel was wasted beyond belief, and the strippers wouldn’t leave him alone.”
“Um, it was his bachelor party! Why would they?”
“Because he wanted them to.” He shrugged. “He was cool with the lap dances and stuff, but then, it all started getting more and more raunchy, and it was messing with his head. He spazzed a little bit. He didn’t want anything to do with all that – all he wanted was you. He was terrified that something might happen that night that would… I don’t know, disappoint, or disrespect you, and he didn’t want that. I guess when he called though… he couldn’t find the words.”
“Wow.”
I blinked, hard.
The truth behind that story was… unexpected, to say the least. Kellen had never been the kind of guy who wasn’t up for a good time. As a matter of fact, I would imagine that a stripper in his lap, a drink in his hand, and titties in his face was how Kellen would define a “good time”. Back then, it never would have occurred to me that he would take it beyond that, but being distraught enough about whatever was happening at his Vegas bachelor party to feel bad about it?
“It had to have been the liquor,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s the only way that makes any sense to me.”
Ash hiked one shoulder, then dropped it. “Maybe, but I think it was more. He loved you just that much, that he didn’t want to mess it up.”
“Yeah,” I scoffed. “That sentiment certainly faded.”
“Life changes all of us,” Ash agreed, then took a long sip from a drink that looked to be more Mauve than coke. “He lost his job and never recovered.”
“Well, when you’re a black man, insider trading allegations will do that to you.”
“They fucked him over. Left him bleeding out.”
I swallowed, then dropped my gaze to my hands. “Yeah… and I didn’t do anything to try to stop it.”
“Monica, don’t do that shit,” Ash warned, putting his hand on my knee and squeezing. “You did do something. You worked, while he was down.”
I sucked my teeth. “Oh please. All that did was make him resent me.”
“Not at first though.”
“Right. He cared about not disrespecting me, at first. He loved me, at first. He wouldn’t cheat on me, at first. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. You keep wanting to talk about what he did at first, but like Janet said – what the fuck had he done for me lately?”
“Whoa, shit, Monica,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to upset you. I’m sorry, I just miss my friend, and I’m trying to focus on the positive memories, instead of… the other shit.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t quite have the same luxury. In case you forgot, your friend was murdered in the condo he lived in with his pregnant mistress, and paid for with money I earned. Since we’re strolling memory lane, did you talk to your boy about how fucked up that was?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” he insisted, any humor from before completely removed from his tone. “Don’t think that just because I considered the man a friend, I supported that shit. He was wrong, and I told him so.”
“But he didn’t give a damn, did he?” I snapped. “I know you loved him as a friend, and I loved him as a husband, but don’t you sit in my face and try to martyr him in death as if he was perfect in either role.”
“Hey…” His tone was soft as he reached for my hand. “That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m not trying to upset you. I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes as his thumb moved back and forth across my palm, then shook my head, trying in vain to hold back tears. “I’m sorry. My emotions are all over the place today. One second, I’m reminiscing my damn self, and the next I’m wondering why the hell I chose him in the first place.”
Ash’s grip on my hand tightened, and I looked up to find him staring, with clear sympathy in his eyes. “Well, first of all, for the record, he and I both thought you were too good for him,” he told me, sitting his drink down on the glass coffee table, freeing his hand to swipe away the tears that had started spilling down my cheeks. When I laughed at that, he grinned. “There we go, there’s that beautiful smile again.”
“Whatever, Asher.”
“I’m not lying on you,” he teased. “And second… I’m pretty sure that what you’re feeling… the up and down, the regrets, the wondering… it’s all a normal part of the grieving process. I don’t want you beating yourself up over it.”
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right,” I told him, then squeezed his hand. “Thanks Ash.”
“Thank me for what? For doing the shit a friend is supposed to do?”
I shrugged. “Well… yeah, actually. I mean, you and I were friends back then, sure, but Kellen was your homie. You could easily have pretended I didn’t even exist, which is what I expected. You’re the only one of Kellen’s friends to reach out to me at all.”
“Definitely don’t take that personal. Over the last year or so, Kellen pushed everybody away really. I was the only one who gave him any pushback, so there’s no telling where their heads are with all of this.”
“Wow.” I frowned. “I didn’t know that. But I guess there was no reason I would’ve, since it’s not like I was around him either. Once I moved into the house by myself… that was it. I tried to pretend he didn’t even exist.”
“Which meant pretending I didn’t exist,” Ash reminded me, making me shake my head.
“Not intentionally, but… you’re right. And that’s my bad. We used to kick it so hard. Me, Kellen, you, Amanda… I wonder if she even knows about Kellen. Have you talked to her at all lately?”
“Nah,” he sighed. “Haven’t heard her voice in years.”
I nodded. “I might try to call her tomorrow. I used to try all the time, but she never answered, so I just stopped.”
“Recently?”
“No, this was years ago. Around when she up and left after y’all broke up. I never did hear her side of that story by the way.”
Ash shrugged. “I told you, we just grew apart. She wanted to move back out west, and I wasn’t interested. Neither of us wanted to do long distance, so the choice was made. She thought keeping up with each other would just keep us from being able to move on, so I respected her wishes and let it go.”
“Ugh. She was probably right, but still. That was my homegirl, and she just disappeared. I bet she stopped taking my calls because talking to me would remind her of you.”
“Sure, blame me for everything.”
“I’m not blaming you, just saying,” I laughed. “I miss those times.”
“So do I. And now, it’s down to just us two.”
Damn.
It sounded so gloomy when he phrased it that way, but… he was right. Through college, and after, the four of us had been super tight. Double dates, Sunday breakfasts, trips. I’d honestly thought we’d be friends forever, until Amanda up and disappeared. Once she was gone, and it was me, Ash, and Kellen, I started feeling like a third wheel in their bromance, so I left them to their manly shit, and ended up tight with other friends – Blake, Kora, Nubia, and Chloe. And now, like he said… both of our partners were gone.
From the foursome of friends we’d started with, it really was down to just us two.
When I looked up at Asher again, I noticed how much lower his eyelids had gotten, no doubt from the Mauve he’d drained from his now-empty glass. But there was something else… a gloss of sadness in his eyes that made me feel so bad for him. My relationship with Kel had severely deteriorated over the last years, but his hadn’t. Ash was mourning the loss of a dear friend.
“We’re gonna be okay,” I told him, covering his hand with both of mine before I moved to get close enough to pull him into a hug. “I know you miss him. And I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
“Thank you, Mon.” His voice was thick with emotion as he rested his head in the curve of my neck and shoulder, returning the hug and squeezing me a little. “That means a lot.”
I pulled back to see his face. “Like you said… this is what friends do for each other, right?”
“Yeah… right.”
For several seconds, Ash stared at me with those half-closed eyes, and then suddenly his face was coming closer – too close – to mine. It only took a moment for me to register his intent, but by that time, his lips were already on mine.
“Asher, what the hell?!” I asked, jumping up from my seat as soon as I pushed him away.
For a moment, he looked dazed, and then his eyes went wide and he stood too, holding up his hands. “Monica… shit. I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… shit!” he exclaimed, swiping a hand over his head. “I didn’t… I wasn’t… I’m so sorry, you have to believe—”
“Ash, chill,” I told him, attempting a soothing tone, even though my heart was racing with the shock of what had just happened. “It’s… it’s not a big deal, okay? You’ve been drinking, and we’re both emotionally raw right now, and… I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Monica, I am sorry.”
I nodded. “I know, okay? You didn’t drive, did you?”
“No. Not tonight. I uh… I used a car service.”
“Perfect. So, call your service, so you can get back to… where are you staying?”
“I’m at the Drake. A regular five-star property – everybody can’t afford this big-money shit like you,” he teased as he pulled his phone from his pocket – something I was glad for, because it broke the heavy, awkward tension in the room.
“I’m only here because the privacy was necessary,” I assured him. “Otherwise, my behind would be somewhere else too.”
“Yeah, yeah. I uh… I got the car ordered, so, I’m gonna go ahead and bid you goodnight before I go wait down in the lobby.”
I sucked my teeth. “Boy if you don’t stop. Waiting down in the lobby for what? Like you can’t keep your hands off me or something? Please.”
“I just think it’s probably for the best, after that,” he said. “And you weren’t expecting company anyway, so I should probably let you have your room to yourself again.”
“If you say so, Ash. I just feel like ten years from now, this story is going to turn into, “do you remember that time you kicked me out of your hotel room”, and I’m telling you now, me and you are gonna box.”
He laughed. “You aren’t gonna fight anybody Monica, you’re too pretty for all that.”
Immediately, my thoughts went to earlier in the day, when I’d tried to snatch Tika bald, and I shook my head. “You know, you’re right.”
“Conceited ass,” he chuckled. “I’ll see you at the funeral, right?”
“Since it’s probably poor form to plan it all and then not show up… yes. You will.”
“Good. Good night Monica.”
“Good night, Ash,” I called after him, rolling my eyes at the fact that he threw up his hand to wave, instead of giving me a hug. Once he was gone, I let out a heavy sigh, trying to push out all the conflicting feelings about Kellen that his visit had stirred up.
In two days, we’d be committing his body to the ground.
With any luck, I’d bury these feelings with him.