5: ONYX

I pull the Porsche into a cobblestone driveway on the other side of town, get out, and hand my keys to the valet driver.

My wife hates this place. She says it's full of elitist assholes who are all full of shit. Every time she says that, I can't help but laugh. Even now, a little giggle escapes me as I think about it.

I shouldn't be here, but it's far enough from home for me to forget about everything. It's the perfect place for me right now.

Meadow and I had another argument yesterday. When I told her that I didn't want to talk about babies, and I just wanted to spend a night with my wife, it erupted. Things got so heated between us that I left the house for an hour just driving around long enough to cool down.

When I returned, she'd locked the bedroom door, and I had to sleep in the guest room. When I woke this morning, not only was our door unlocked, but she was also gone. Tonight, I decided after getting off work I didn't want to go home.

I passed Shep's on the way here, and I could have stopped there. I could have slept over at his place tonight, but going there meant being surrounded by his wife and kids. That's the last thing that I want or need in this mood that I'm in. He would commiserate with me, but that's the last thing that I want as well.

Everyone, or rather almost everyone in our family, thinks that Shep's a bad guy, but he's not. Whorish? Yes, in the past. Not a bad guy, though. Reckless decisions? Sure, but still not a bad person. He's got a heart of gold, but he doesn't buy into the entitlement and white privilege my father's elitist side of the family promotes. He could give a shit about the money or his trust fund. Shep simply wants to live his life according to his rules.

"Welcome to 3rd Level," the hostess greets.

"Gin and tonic, please," I tell the bartender after I take my seat.

The mahogany encased, glass bar is serpentine in shape creating sitting groups. It runs the length of the club allowing patrons to sit alone and watch what's going on in the rest of the lounge or to sit in small, enclosed groups around the bar chatting.

A smoky glass wall holds shelf after shelf of high-end whiskey and liquor. It is an elitist club. Meadow didn't lie about that. Annual membership starts at fifty grand a year, but people pay for the experience, the anonymity, and the privacy guaranteed by being here.

"Here you are," the bartender smiles flirtatiously as she sets my drink in front of me before she walks away.

I nurse it before ordering another as I take in all the people who are out tonight. It's a Friday, and I knew 3rd Level would be busy. Just enough noise to let me not be alone with my thoughts, but still enough privacy that I don't have to be pulled into the fray.

I sit on the outside curve of the serpentine shaped bar people watching tonight because I don't want to sit in a group with any of the people I sometimes mingle with.

I want to be an observer but not completely alone.

By the time I'm on my third drink, someone takes the seat beside me.

"Hello."

Her accent is lovely. I glance at her and give a brief nod.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt your solitude," she says just before ordering a drink.

She's facing the bar, and I'm facing the opposite direction.

"You're fine," I lie.

"Good. You don't look it, though," she says. "Stressful work week?"

"I wish."

She laughs. "Sometimes business problems, no matter how complicated, are preferable. When your personal life is on the edge, it's hard to find hope."

"Spoken like a woman with experience."

She chuckles again. "Something like that. You look like you could use someone to talk to."

Shaking my head, I reply, "No, I just needed a change of scenery."

"Oh?" she says, lifting an eyebrow.

"Nothing too dramatic."

"I believe that when you get away from the problem, and you're not up close looking at it, you can see all the issues clearer as well as the resolutions," she says.

"Maybe," I reply with a sigh as I toss my drink back.

She smiles again and eyes me carefully over her drink.

"Another one, please," she says, holding her glass up.

"What're you drinking?"

"Agua de Valencia," she replies with a smile.

"I'll get her drink," I say to the bartender.

"Gracias."

"De nada."

Her laughter is a light tinker.

"I'll have one, too," I tell the bartender.

"You don't even know what's in it."

"No, but it seems to be some magic elixir. It's making you happy. Better than me sobbing in a gin and tonic."

"I don't think that you're sobbing," she says smiling warmly at me and turning her back to the bar with me.

"Oh? What do you call it?"

"Chasing away the blues."

"Okay."

We sit in silence for a while before she speaks again.

"I love this."

"What's that?"

"People watching. You can tell a lot about a person if you watch them for just a few minutes."

"Yeah, like what?"

"See that blonde over there staring at the guy with narrowed eyes?"

"In the burgundy dress?"

"Yes. She's flipped her hair and licked her lips several times. She's trying to show him that she's interested, but he's not."

"Oookay."

"He is trying to ignore her flirtatious efforts."

"Why? Because he's married?" I ask, spotting the ring on the man's finger.

"No, that has nothing to do with it. His eye has been on their server every time the guy returns to their table, and trust me, he's returning far more frequently than he should. I'm willing to bet that has nothing to do with the high price tag we pay for our memberships."

Laughing, I shake my head. The bartender returns with our drinks after a few minutes, and I take a sip of mine.

"This is good. What's in it?"

"Gin, vodka, cava, sugar, orange juice, and ice."

"I like it. So, what did you observe about me while you were people-watching?"

She smiles and looks down for a second. When she looks up again and brushes her dark hair back from her face, I notice the mole on the left corner of her mouth as she looks at me full-on with big, beautiful brown eyes.

"You look like you need a friend. I think something very painful has happened in your life recently, and you don't have anyone you trust with the pain. No one that you can talk to that will truly get what you're going through."

"Is that what you think?" I ask.

"Pretty sure."

"What makes you think that?"

"Just the way that you came to sit here in this space away from everyone else. How you are running your hands through your hair every few minutes, and though you're looking at the people, you're looking right through them. Then let's not forget that I came to sit right beside you, and it took you a couple of minutes before you noticed me."

Laughing, I say, "That did not happen."

"It did. You didn't realize I was here until I said hello."

"I knew you were here. I was just lost in thoughts."

"Mm, is that why you jumped when I spoke?" she asks, resting a hand on my arm. I don't move it away.

I don't even do the subtle shrug that I usually do when a woman touches me.

I smirk. "Okay, you got me."

"Well, at least you're smiling now. Looks like I accomplished my job."

"Your job is to make people smile?"

"It is. I just have different ways of doing it."

"Well, thank you for the smile, Miss..."

"Rodriguez. Veronica Rodriguez."

"Thank you, Miss Rodriguez. I had a lot on my mind tonight and many decisions to make."

"Well, if one of those happens to involve looking for some company tonight, I'm available," she says, leaning close to me.

She reaches up and boldly touches the curls in my hair, raking her hand across the back of my neck as she stares into my eyes.

I smile and then glance back down into my drink.

"I don't think I should do that."

"Why not?"

"I'm vulnerable right now," I tease, winking at her.

"That's the perfect excuse for why you should accompany me across the street to my hotel," she says, winking.

"Can I get a raincheck on that?"

"Sure," she says, recognizing the brush off for what it is. She reaches into her purse and grabs a pen and a card.

She leans over the bar and scribbles something on the card before handing it to me as she gets off her bar stool.

"R and E Properties. Veronica Rodriguez. Broker and Realtor. What does the ‘E' stand for?"

She smiles brightly at me as she tugs her purse up her arm.

"Estes. My best friend and partner, Emilia Estes."

"Ms. Rodriguez, I'll be in touch."

I stare at the card in my hand, and by the time I look up again, she's disappeared.

"That was really nice, O," I hear on the other side of me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, turning to face MJ.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're a married man in a place like this—"

"A place like this? Somewhere that I come quite often?" I grit out.

"Flirting with women."

"I always flirt with women. You know this. It's never been a problem."

"Do you always allow them to touch you, too? The way that she was all over you, I've never seen you allow a woman to do that to you before."

"What the fuck, MJ? Are you following me? Spying on me?" I ask.

"Should I have a reason to?"

"I don't know. You tell me," I say, tossing my drink back.

"Just wanted to see how you play it when I'm not around," she tosses back.

"Same way I would if you weren't."

"Liar!" she hisses. "It's almost two in the morning, and you're not at home. Not answering your calls. I was worried about you. But then I knew exactly where I'd find you," she grits through clenched teeth.

"So, what's the problem?"

"You should've come home, Onyx."

"Maybe if home were more appealing, I would have. Look, I'm tired of the arguing and the tension."

"Then maybe you should find someplace else to be. Like that woman's room," she says, getting a little louder.

"Lower your voice."

"You don't tell me what to do, Onyx!" she says a bit louder.

"Don't play with me, MJ," I say, looking around and noticing that we're gaining attention.

Just as the bartender makes her way down the bar towards us, I get off the stool and grab MJ by the hand.

"Let me go!" she hisses, jerking away from me.

She storms from the bar, and I'm hot on her heels. We both hand the valet attendants our stubs and wait in strained silence for the two attendants to return with our vehicles.

Throughout the twenty-minute drive home, I'm on her tail all the way. She's flooring her Lexus, but no matter how fast and reckless she drives, she can't shake my Porsche.

Anger rushes through me because I don't give a damn how upset she is, she has no business driving the way that she is. She's not only jeopardizing her life but anyone who crosses her path.

She slams the car door after pulling into the garage, but I don't bother to park my car. Grabbing her by the elbow when she's on the step leading into the kitchen from the garage, I spin her around to face me.

"What the fuck was that? Why did you follow me to the club tonight?"

"I didn't follow you! I went there because I knew that's probably where you were when you didn't come home!"

"You know what the fuck I meant! Why are you going around town looking for me?"

"You didn't answer your goddamn phone, Onyx!"

"Maybe because I needed a break! Maybe because I needed some peace and a fucking reprieve from what we've been going through!"

"Is that what she was offering, O? Peace? A reprieve?" she asks as tears pool in her eyes.

"What?"

"You're fucking cheating on me, and you think that I'm stupid!"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not cheating on you, MJ! This insecurity bullshit you're on lately is not like you!"

"Insecure?"

"Yes!"

"You'd feel the same way if you saw men hitting on me."

"I've seen countless men hitting on you, and you entertain it until I show myself, so don't come at me with that bullshit. I don't allow it to distort my image of who you are, though!"

"That's because I don't cheat with those men!"

"And I haven't cheated!"

"Why? Because I showed up? Was she so intriguing that you were tempted to fuck her?"

I know that I shouldn't push it, but I can't seem to help myself. The anger in me rivals the compassion for her pain right now. In fact, my anger is quickly turning into fury and outweighing it by far.

"Yes, she was!"

MJ breaks my hold on her elbow and fumbles with the key in the lock. She finally unlocks it and races for the steps.

"No, you don't get to run! You came looking for me, and I'm here!"

"I can't do this anymore, Onyx!"

"Do what?"

"This," she says, waving her hand back and forth between us. "The arguing, the not being on the same page, the tension...the...the flirting! The cheating!"

"I have never given you a reason to doubt me. Not once have I ever tried to change you, MJ. I accepted you for who you were, with flaws and all!"

"My flaws? What flaws, Onyx?"

"That's the problem right there. You think that your shit is so perfect. That you do nothing wrong! You're not the only one that's tired! I'm tired of the nagging, the pressure to have a baby, and lately, the incessant phone calls where you feel the need to check up on me!"

"Then leave, Onyx! You don't have to deal with me!"

"Maybe I will," I sneer, pushing past her on the steps.

I head into our bedroom and grab the bags that I have packed for my business trip that I'm supposed to be flying out for in two days.

"I need a man who's faithful, Onyx."

"I have been. Always have been. But if this is what we're doing now because we've got other shit between us, then maybe I should've cheated. Maybe I should've took her up on her offer and took her back to her hotel and fucked her real good. At least that way, you'd have a reason to accuse me. If I'm going to be what you call me, then I shouldn't hold back!"

I hear the gasp in her voice, and then she says, "Go to hell."

"Lately, I've been there."

"If you pack your bags, don't come back," she says, watching me from the doorway.

"This is my house! I pay the annual property taxes on this, and I can come and go as I please."

"Then maybe I should be the one who leaves," she says in a teary voice.

"Maybe we need some space," I say as I come to stand in front of her.

"Yeah, maybe we do," she says.

I eye my wife up and down, and as much as I want to say I love you or hold her, I can't right now. There's too much space and too much hurt between us.

"Call me if you need me," I say.

"I won't," she replies coldly.