“Bella told me you all had brunch a few weeks ago and your coworker just so happened to be there too. His name is Porter, right? She said the man was fine as hell. So…when am I going to meet him? Is he future son-in-law material?” Doris said in her usual, quick cadence.
“Mama, we’re just coworkers. Nothing more. I can’t and won’t date any more coworkers. We know how that turned out.”
My mother took a lengthy sip of coffee. “Well, that was then. Every situation is different. I said the same thing. Swore up and down I’d never date a coworker and ended up marrying your father. Honey, anything is possible. I just want you to be open to that possibility. It’s been such a long time since you had a nice man around. When’s the last time you’ve had a date?”
“I date. Remember Korey? He’s a nice boy that I have around sometimes,” I said, finally admitting that Korey was basically a booty call. “Besides, I don’t need a relationship to make me happy. I have my job and need to focus on that.” My mother’s meddling in my love life was a nuisance but came from a good place. I didn’t need a man to make me happy. Even if that potential for happiness had dazzling green eyes, a kilowatt smile, and kissed me like I was water, and he was on fire.
“Ari, dear, that’s a load of crap and you know it. Either shit or get off the pot! One minute you want to be in a relationship, the next you want to be like those girls on that show. What’s the show? Where those tired, but well-dressed white women just have a bunch of boyfriends and work all the time?”
“Sex and the City.”
“Yes! Sex and the City! You want to be a Samantha!”
I frowned. I always thought I was more like Carrie. But knowing my mother, she probably had the names and characters all mixed up. If it wasn’t reruns of In the Heat of the Night or Law and Order: SVU, Mama had no clue about popular television shows. Even if they’d been off the air for almost twenty years.
“Anyway,” my mother continued. “Bella said you got all weird when he came to your table. You like him, don’t you?”
I turned my chair to get a look across the hall at Porter’s office door. He wasn’t at his desk.
“I don’t know about that, Mama.” I held the phone, trying hard not think about it. It was a moment. A moment that we’d vowed not to have again.
“Just be open to whatever happens. Everyone could use a little romance in their life. And by the way, I can hear you frowning through the phone, Ari! You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”
Dammit! I swear, there was no hiding anything from her. “I wasn’t frowning. I swear.”
“Sure, dear. Well, I got to go, sweetheart. I’m meeting Connie, Delores, and the girls at the mall. We’re shopping for our fiftieth high school reunion. Maybe I’ll convince Delores to invest in a girdle. Or what’s it called? Spanx? I’ll call you when I get back. If not, I’ll just see you at choir practice tonight. Love you, daughter.”
I shook my head, laughing, then an idea came to me. Everyone could use a little romance in their life. The conversation with my mother had given me a jolt of inspiration. I put on my headphones, deleted my last designs in REVIT, and did a rough hand-drawn draft of some ideas for the fan experience. Something that would mimic a night in the Serrano vineyards combined with the greens at Wimbledon. Something romantic that could be enjoyed by everyone, every day. After twenty minutes of designing, I’d had something rough around the edges, but I was excited to show Porter.
I jumped out my chair, grabbed my tablet, and headed across the hall. Beaming, I flung the door open to Porter’s office, taking a quick look over my notes. “Hey, Porter, sorry I took so long, I was just finishing up a call with my mom. But she…” When I looked up from my tablet, it took a few seconds to adjust to the sight of Porter in the arms of a woman who looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of Italian Vogue.
I held my tablet firmly with one hand, clutching it against my chest, its weight as heavy as a ton of bricks. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were occupied. I can come back.” The woman was a bronzed slender beauty, tall, with hair up in a topknot, a Louis Vuitton satchel slung on her arm, and designer shades perched on her head. Who was this woman?
“Oh gosh, Porter!” said the woman, playfully tapping Porter’s shoulder. “Is this another one of your secretaries? My God, are they rude! Can’t they see you’re indisposed? Listen, why don’t you be a darling and come back in a few minutes. Or at least bring back a coffee. Black is how you like it, right, Porter?” She then shook her hand dismissively at me.