Two Steps Back Page 11

  “So how did meeting the parents go? Did they warm to Johnny?” Jourdan asked, stuffing a piece of bread in her mouth and Jaylah took a long heavy sigh, like she was preparing to spill all of the gory details. “That well, huh?” Jourdan said. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I happen to like the bloke.”

  “He proposed,” Jaylah blurted, unable to contain the news any longer.

  “Proposed…marriage?”

  “Yes!” Jaylah screeched.

  “With your parents looking on? That takes some balls.”

  “No, no. On the plane. On the way back here.”

  Jourdan grabbed Jaylah’s hands and inspected her fingers for evidence of a proposal. “No ring? Isn’t he some sort of a banker? He couldn’t even give you a—“ Jaylah pulled the teal box out of her purse and set it on the table bringing her friend’s rant to a halt. Jourdan tore open the lid and gasped. “No fucking way!”

  “I know…”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This ring is like…it looks like it cost a million pounds!”

  Jaylah laughed. “I don’t think it’s quite that much, but it’s crazy, right?”

  “Why isn’t it on your finger? I’d wear this rock everywhere, shoving it in everyone’s face like, oh look, my ring costs more than your car.” The women giggled as Jourdan wiggled her fingers in the air like she was the Queen waving to her loyal subjects. “But seriously, why aren’t you wearing it? You would have to cut it off my cold, dead finger.” Jourdan suddenly paused and eyed her friend, “Wait. Did you say no?”

  “That’s the thing,” Jaylah said, lowering her voice and leaning in like she was about to tell Jourdan a secret, “I didn’t say anything.”

  Her friend looked bewildered. “I don’t understand. How can a man ask you to marry him, give you this fabulous ring, and you not say anything?”

  “He didn’t really give me a chance. After he was done with the speech he just slipped it on my finger and kissed me. I guess he just assumed I’d say yes.”

  “Like I said, he has balls, Jay.” Jourdan admired the ring one final time before putting it back in the box. “So what are you going to do?”

  “Wait till he brings it up again?”

  Jourdan looked at her friend like she’d grown a pair of horns. “You can’t be serious. You have to give him a proper answer. You have to straighten this out.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not sure what I want to do.”

  “You love him, yeah?”

  “I do, but is that enough? Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should speed off and get married.”

  Jourdan raised her glass. “Here, here.”

  “Everything is already moving so fast. When you think about it, we really just met. Yeah, we messed up and I got pregnant, but I just want to catch my breath and really think things through before I make that kind of commitment.”

  “Sounds like you two need to have a conversation, sissy,” Jourdan said, patting her friend’s hand. “But whatever you do, keep the ring. It can make for one hell of a rainy day fund.”

  “See, this is why I love you. Always thinking ahead.”

  “Damn straight. Now that you’re all hopped up on baby hormones one of us has to be the brains of this operation. You’re lucky to have me.”

  “You know what, J? You’re goddamn right.”

  * * *

  Jaylah barely had time to breathe since returning to London. As soon as she hit the ground, she threw herself into work, covering musicians at the London Jazz Festival, taking in the explosion of fireworks for Guy Fawkes' Night, interviewing local chefs for her new series on the city’s diverse food scene, and penning columns about being a new transport to the Queen’s city. Jaylah tried to keep busy, never idling around the house or wandering the streets like she used to for fear her mind would linger too long on Johnny’s proposal and what she should do about it.

  Somehow, Jaylah had managed to avoid that conversation for weeks. After all, it wasn’t like Johnny could press her to pick a wedding date or decide on a venue because he was still married and going through a divorce. Plus, like Jaylah, Johnny worked even longer hours since returning to London, dragging home well past nine each night chatting about brokering deals that could help them buy a house “in cash,” he said one evening, “just from my commission alone.”

  These days, Johnny seemed preoccupied with talking about money more than usual. Previously, Jaylah never cared about his finances, but she guessed he was doing just fine. Between his car, home, the expensive gifts he gave her, and the fact that she never needed to pay for anything when they were together (and sometimes when they weren’t), Jaylah never gave Johnny’s finances any serious thought. But with her mother’s advice—be sure he can take care of you—still ringing in her ears, Jaylah actually listened whenever he brought up money.

  “I’m going to be home a little later than I planned tonight,” Johnny said as Jaylah wrestled with a story she was working on at the dining table. He was gobbling up the last of the eggs and toast she fixed for him before he ran off to work.

  “Again? I thought you were done with that project?”

  “I am. I’m meeting with my solicitor after work,” he said, draining his coffee in one large gulp.

  She glanced up. “Everything alright?”

  “Yeah…” he hesitated, seeming to weigh his words. “Fiona filed her own divorce petition. We’re meeting to discuss it.”

  “What does that mean? Is she fighting it? I thought you said wanted to get divorced as well.”

  “She does. She she’s just filing her own petition under different grounds.”

  “Which mean what exactly? What grounds is she using?” Jaylah asked, cutting him off.

  “Adultery,” he said quickly, sending a pang of guilt down Jaylah’s spine.

  “Adultery,” she repeated quietly, her eyes instantly filling with water.

  Johnny walked around the table to comfort her; he was never any match for her tears. “Shhh. Don’t do that, please? It changes nothing, I promise. My solicitor thinks it’s just her way of negotiating.”

  The words home wrecker, flashed before her eyes, once again making Jaylah feel like she’d destroyed Fiona’s life. Despite telling herself a million times that Johnny had ruined his own marriage—that it was his choice, not hers—Jaylah couldn’t help but feel like she and the baby had put the final nail in its coffin.

  “Hey,” he said, trying to coax her away from the sickening feeling that she’d shattered another woman’s world. “Why don’t you come with me? We can have dinner at after the meeting, yeah? We’ll go someplace really lovely.”

  Jaylah shook her head and willed her emotions into check. “We’re supposed to go to that gallery opening tonight, remember? I promised Jourdan we’d come. She’s been working on it for months and this is a huge deal for her company. I have to be there.”

  “Shit, I totally forgot,” he said, kneeling in front of her like he was getting ready to propose again. “Let me cancel the meeting with the solicitor then. What time’s the opening?”

  “Seven, but don’t cancel it. You go to the meeting and get that sorted out. I’ll go hang with Jourdan. Maybe we can all have dinner afterward.”

  “You sure? I can make another…” Jaylah put a finger to Johnny’s lips, silencing him. Then she caressed the side of his smooth face. The truth was she wanted to hang with Jourdan alone. Every moment she and Johnny were together Jaylah was afraid he would bring up their engagement, and although she adored him, there were other things Jaylah felt she needed to focus on first before committing to be Johnny’s second wife.

  “Okay babes,” he said, kissing her palm and noticing her naked ring finger. He scrunched up his face. “Where’s your ring?”

  She froze. It was still in her purse where it had been for the past few weeks. “I put it back in the box,” she said slowly.

  Johnny looked puzzled. “In the box? Why?”

  Jaylah had a choice. She
could either come clean about her ambivalence about their engagement or she could conjure up a lie.

  “I…” She started to speak the truth, but changed her mind when they locked eyes. “My hands were swelling, so I took it off. I didn’t want it to get stuck. I guess I need to drink more water or something.” She shrugged, hoping he’d believe her.

  “Oh…” Johnny seemed to run her answer through his head. “Do you need me to go to the store to grab some water or ginger ale before I leave? I don’t want you to get dehydrated again.”

  She kissed his lips. “No I’m fine. I can’t drink water on an empty stomach anyway or it’ll come back up.”

  “Then eat something. How come you didn’t make yourself any eggs?”

  “I will, babe. Eating makes me sleepy and I want to finish this first,” she said, trying to smile wide enough to put him at ease.

  “Okay. I’ll call you later, yeah? If you feel up to it, maybe we can meet for lunch.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She walked him to the door and met his lips.

  “Jaylah? Please drink water, okay? You have to get that ring back on. I don’t want guys out here getting their hopes up,” he said, smiling. “You’re already taken.”

  * * *

  Victoria Miro’s Hackney gallery was abuzz with art lovers from every corner of the city. Expansive, colorful canvases, gritty photographs, and intricately woven tapestries clung to the stark white walls, and from the looks of things, the well-heeled hipsters seemed to eat it all up.

  Jaylah moved through the space looking for Jourdan and trying to decide on whether or not she’d finally have a glass of wine. Although she’d Googled “wine + pregnancy” several times trying to be sure that an occasional glass wouldn’t harm the baby, she hadn’t decided if she would actually take the plunge.

  Walking through the gallery Jaylah admired Jourdan’s work. Her friend’s PR firm had spearheaded this year’s 30 Under 30 opening, showcasing the most promising emerging artists in the city and connecting them with the people who could be the difference between giving up their passion to get a day job, or being a world-renowned artist.

  For months Jourdan vented about the difficulty of putting on such a show and how some of the more pretentious assholes, as she called them, took longer to confirm they would attend. But gazing out over the crowd it was clear Jourdan had pulled it off, and hopefully, it meant the tiny PR firm she’d started after dropping out of university at 21 to throw parties could finally spread its wings and fly.

  “You did it, J,” Jaylah said, looping an arm around Jourdan’s waist, startling her friend. “This looks amazing!”

  Jourdan hugged Jaylah and grinned. “Can you believe it? I thought it would never come together!”

  “But it did!” Jaylah said, letting her eyes travel around the room again.

  “I’m such a bloody mess, though. I need a drink to calm me down. My heart is pounding like I just ran a fucking marathon and you know I don’t run!”

  Jaylah laughed and shook her head. “Girl, me either. I believe a toast is in order. Let’s get you a drink.”

  The pair walked toward the bar, which was situated along a wall of windows overlooking Wharf Road. Seeing her friend dressed in a chic paisley print jumpsuit, black blazer, and red heels made Jaylah feel underdressed. She’d planned on wearing the Duro Olow pencil skirt Johnny had bought her a few months ago and burgundy blouse, but she couldn’t zip it up. Jaylah was forced to settle on a black shift dress that made her feel like a cow and a pair of nude wedges instead.

  “What would you like to drink?” the bartender asked them when they made it to the front of the line.

  “Two glasses of champagne, please,” Jourdan said before Jaylah had a chance to speak up. “The good stuff from the bottom shelf. And don’t be stingy,”

  Jaylah cocked an eyebrow at her friend. “It’s a celebration. I won’t let you make it a habit, and I won’t let anything happen to Nemo on my watch.”

  When Jaylah got her glass she inhaled deeply, letting the bubbles tickle her nose before taking a tiny sip, hoping to stretch the decadent glass out for as a long as possible.

  “So where’s the boy. Working late?” Jourdan asked after taking a gulp of her champagne.

  “No, meeting with his solicitor. He might meet us later for dinner if you’re up to it.”

  “Everything alright?”

  Jaylah shrugged. “He says so, but I’m not sure. Fiona filed her own divorce petition. She’s suing him for adultery.”

  Jourdan’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Exactly. When he filed the papers he chose ‘unreasonable behavior’ as the grounds because he said it was the easiest, less messy option.”

  “Right, so I’ve heard. But she doesn’t want to go along with it?”

  “I guess not. His solicitor thinks it’s just a negotiation tactic. Maybe she’s just trying to protect herself. I can’t really blame her. I mean, if I were in her shoes I’d probably do the same thing.”

  Jourdan nodded in agreement, but her head suddenly snapped up. “Wait. Is she naming you?”

  “Naming me in what?”

  “Her petition. That’s an option, you know, especially if you claim adultery. You can name the other person and they get pulled into the proceedings.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me,” Jaylah said in disbelief.

  Naming me? Would Fiona do that?

  “Not at all. Happened to a mate of mine. He had an affair with this older woman, I didn’t quite get it, but whatever. Anyway, when the husband found out, he divorced his wife and named my mate in the petition. He had to go to court and everything.”

  Jourdan’s words crashed into Jaylah like a hurricane, threatening to knock her off balance. Would Fiona actually sue her for adultery? And what would that even mean? Could it mess with her immigration status? Would the UK suddenly find her unworthy of a Visa because she was amoral?

  Jaylah resisted the urge to bolt out of the gallery and find Johnny to get some answers. She could deal with helping him through the divorce, but she absolutely did not want her name sullied by Johnny and Fiona’s relationship drama. He said it himself; this was not her fault. But why did it always feel like it was?

  “Be right back, Jay. I need to go chat with that bloke over there. He owns a galley in Mayfair. A big one. Maybe I can convince him to come on as a client.”

  Jaylah could do little more than nod. All of the excitement she just had was zapped away by the thought of being branded an adulterer in court. Jaylah couldn’t give Jourdan her typical “go get him girl!” pep talk right now, not that her friend needed it anyway.

  She fumbled through her purse to get her phone and sent Johnny a frantic text message: “CALL ME WHEN YOU GET A CHANCE!”

  Forget dinner, there was no way she could eat now until she knew whether or not Fiona was going to stamp her with a scarlet A in the pages of her divorce document.

  Does she even know my name?

  The thought gave Jaylah a momentary reprieve. Johnny wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t give his ex-wife Jaylah’s name as ammunition; he had probably told her that he’d met someone. Some vague, ambiguous woman who had reminded him what love was supposed to look like.

  Jaylah exhaled and drained the last of her champagne, immediately wanting another glass.

  “Dammit,” she said under her breath, knowing that another round of bubbly would be irresponsible, although it might calm the jumble of nerves growing in her gut.

  She fired off another message. “Does Fiona know my name???? Is she naming me in the petition??? I NEED TO KNOW!”

  Jaylah fidgeted in place like someone trying to conceal a drug habit. Normal movements like gazing around the room, or checking her phone, or waiting for Jourdan to drift back over and put her mind at ease suddenly looked manic and uneasy. She thought about leaving and running off to find Johnny again, but she couldn’t do that to her girl. She promised Jourdan she’d be here, and no matter how uncomfortab
le or crazy she looked, she was staying until her friend was ready to leave.

  Instead of grabbing another drink or heading to the exit Jaylah decided to walk around and actually look at the art. She hoped focusing on something other than the shitstorm brewing in her mind would release the knot growing in her belly.

  After checking out a group of black and white photographs chronicling Brixton in the 1970s and 1980s, Jaylah paused in front of a painting of a naked woman with wild hair and round hips. The woman was leaning against a multicolored wall, her expression lusty yet forlorn, and her hands gesturing to someone that was out of the frame. Jaylah couldn’t take her eyes off the woman whose dewy brown skin made her seem regal and almost otherworldly.

  “You like that one?” a man’s voice said from behind her. Jaylah nodded, but never took her eyes off the canvas. “She reminds me of you.”

  Jaylah laughed to herself. How could this magnificent woman remind anyone of me? she wanted to ask, but she politely thanked the man without looking in his direction.

  “I’m serious, Jaylah,” he said, rolling her name through his mouth like it was a familiar tune. Jaylah’s headed ricocheted toward the voice, and she saw the man shrug. “You were my muse.”

  She studied his face, took in his thick eyebrows, perfect olive skin, and gorgeous brown eyes. He smiled and a bolt of electricity shot through her body as a scene from their night together flashed through her head. “Faraj…”

  He stepped in close, gently kissed both her cheeks and squeezed her hand. “It’s been a while, yeah? I guess that night wasn’t as great as I remember.”

  Jaylah blushed. He had it wrong, all wrong. Their night together was incredible. Jaylah had never had the gall to take a man she’d met in a club home, but there was something about Faraj she just had to have. He looked at her with unabashed desire and it made her feel sexy in a way that she’d never felt before that night. Jaylah could have easily gone back for more, much more, but she told herself that she didn’t want to get caught up in anything serious.