Just Be True To Me

Chapter 2

Just as she when she was watching the interview, Mia felt a pull toward Clifford, his features much more pronounced, much more intense. He didn’t shy away from eye contact, checking his surroundings every few seconds or so. A man of power, he wasn’t entranced by beautiful women. He allowed them to pass back and forth without so much as a head turn. His posture was relaxed. Embracing the modern style of the season, his pants ended just above his ankle joint. The white and blue ensemble contrasted well against his tanned skin.

Silence had always made her anxious. She rubbed the outside of her legs and bit her lip. It took all her strength to maintain eye contact, using her peripheral to account for the happenings in the background.

“Were you surprised when I called?” he finally asked.

Her nervousness lessened. Her accomplishments were her fall-back, something she could rely on when there was nothing else she could or wanted to talk about. “Not really. I know what I’m capable of.”

He chuckled, running his fingers through hair, the move causing the grays to stand out.

“What’s funny?”

“Using a preposition at the end of a sentence.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, I think you’re the first person to mention it.”

“There is nothing wrong with it. If you’re talking to a friend.” He tensed for the first time since arriving. “Let’s get something clear.” He leaned forward. “We are not friends. I’m not here because I think you’re beautiful or trying to get in your pants. I’m here, sitting in front of you, for one reason and one reason only.”

“What’s that?”

“My money is on the line.”

Though her face remained straight, inside she was shaken. Having to deal with men on a daily basis, Mia thought herself well trained in dealing with narcissism and debilitating egos.

But he was different. His need wasn’t coming from a source of greed. His reputation was at stake.

She made a mental note that money meant his pride and image.

“Why are you smiling?” Curiosity caused his brow to droop. “What did I say that was so funny?”

“Nothing.” She’d found a point of weakness. Now she had something to work with. Picking up her spoon and fork, she let the ends of the pasta settle into the spoon before beginning to twirl it in a counterclockwise motion. Noticing him watching, she stopped. “Something wrong?”

He picked up his fork, stabbed a glob of pasta, and shoveled it into his mouth.

For a while, the only sound that passed between them was their forks scraping on the bottom of their plates. Clifford pushed his plate away when he was finished and crossed his arms over the bottom of his stomach.

She grinned.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

Her smile widened. “Doing what?”

“Smiling like that. Why do you keep doing that?” He wiped his mouth, then took quick swipes at his nose. He raised his arms. “What the hell is funny?”

Mia folded her napkin into a neat square and set her plate on top of it. She pulled enough money out of her wallet to pay for their meals, leaving a handsome tip then she stood. Removing a business card from her purse, she set it on the left side of his wine glass. “My number. I’m sure you didn’t save it from the first call.” She turned her back, adding emphasis to her hip drop as she headed for the door.

Her hand was on her car’s door handle when her phone vibrated. “That was fast.” Pulling it out of her purse, a part of her was disappointed upon seeing her best friend and main source of information’s face. “Hey T.”

She and Tamara hadn’t been friends for long, their bond coming from trauma. Her parents divorced when she was young. And while her relationship with her father was on the mend, it still had a long way to go to be normal. They were opposites; Mia more refined, Tamara still tapped into the streets, a native of St. Louis, her dad a former leader of the 6200 Brimside Bloods.

“What up girlie. Where you at?”

“Just leaving a meeting with a potential client.”

“Let’s meet up later. I need to vent.”

“I’m done for the day,” Mia said. “You can come over my place.”

“Be there in an hour.”

Mia tossed the vegetables as if she were an executive chef. Catching the piece she threw into the air in her mouth, she turned the heat down before going to open the door. She hugged Tamara. The two chatted about their days while Mia resuming cooking.

Tamara turned the TV on. “So who’s this new client.”

“Potential new client.”

“Right, potential new client. Who is it? Someone I know?” The right side of her mouth scrunched as a picture of Clifford appeared on the screen. “I can’t stand him.” She looked in the direction of Mia’s muffled laughter. “Did I say something funny?”

“That’s him.”

“Who?”

“My next client,” Mia said. “Well, it’s not official yet, still waiting for him to call.”

“What I always tell you? Any man that makes you wait isn’t worth your time.”

“I’m not trying to date him.” Mia handed her a plate before sitting on the opposite end of the couch. She crossed her legs underneath her, turning the TV up. Checking her phone, she wondered if she’d put him off. Not only would representing him increase her clout, it would also add much needed funds to her bank account.

Clifford pointed to the reporter wearing a purple shirt and white pants. “What’s your question Brandon.”

“Is this announcement business or personal? I’m sure you’ve heard Anastasia’s interview.”

Anastasia Lockhart, international model and spokeswoman for Dior perfume, was Clifford’s ex-girlfriend. Rumors had begun to swirl about their break up. Their relationship lasting longer than the standard six months was sure to have ruined the pockets of those betting against him.

“They weren’t good together,” Tamara said, “too pretty.”

“It’s business,” Clifford answered. “It’s about my legal representation. As I’m sure you have already guessed, there has been a change.”

Mia choked on the food she’d swallowed. A cough flew from chest each time Tamara’s hand collided with her back. Water spilled from the sides of her mouth as she hurriedly gulped it down, her chest heaving after she finished it. She prayed that he didn’t say her name. Not one of inch of her moved as she continued watching.