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  Determined to get back into it, he began with a series of grueling strength-training exercises. Goblet squats, lateral lunges, Bulgarian split squats, glute bridges, triceps extensions, renegade rows, push-ups with elevated arm, and then he finished with planks before heading to the free weights. With his workout completed, Mikhail showered, got dressed and headed for work where he met his three vehicle sells quota for the day.

  When he got home that night, he changed clothes, put on some music and began cooking something for dinner thinking about how he enjoyed most of being a bachelor. He also knew there were some parts of his life he wished were shared with someone. As he made his light dinner of breaded chicken breast with a medley of vegetables and red roasted potatoes, he thought of Nova and how the vision of her seated across from him as he cooked for her would have been nice.

  Just then his phone buzzed. He wiped his hands off on the kitchen towel and picked up his phone.

  “Private number.”

  Although he didn’t generally take calls from people who hid their numbers, there was still the glimmer of hope that Nova would one day pick up and call him so he answered, “Hello.”

  “What’s going on, Mikhail,” a singsongy voice called out to him. It wasn’t Nova. That much he knew.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Vicky.”

  “Oh, hey. I didn’t recognize your number.”

  “I’m not calling from my phone, that’s why. I’m with Dante and calling from his phone.” Dante was a buddy of his that also painted. Though Mikhail’s was at hobby level, Dante made a living off of his paintings. Anytime his boy had a show, he was front a center. Being inspired and being supportive.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s good, working on a new piece.”

  “Have you seen it? No, of course not. You know Dante, he threw the black sheet over it before he opened the door.” Mikhail smiled at that. He knew all too well how artists could be, especially painters.

  “Yes, but I also know you and your penchant for peeking when his back is turned.”

  Her laughter made him smile. “Not this time. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight.”

  “So, when’s the big unveiling?”

  “Tomorrow night at the Art Alliance on North Clark. Nothing elaborate, a little wine, cheese, hors d’oeuvres, good people and conversation.”

  “You and Terri always put on a nice event.” Terri was Vicky’s girl and she had been trying to get him to be her plus one in life for a while, but it wasn’t happening.

  “You know how we do it.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll put you on the guest list. Will it be just you or will you be bringing a date?”

  “No, just me.”

  “Great!” She sounded way too enthusiastic, which told him Terri had wanted to know.

  “What time?”

  “Doors open at seven. Unveiling is seven thirty.” He thought about work and that was his late night.

  “I may be a little late getting there.”

  “Not a problem. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Looking forward to it,” he said, ending the call.

  When Mikhail arrived at the Art Alliance the following evening, it was almost eight. He’d missed the grand unveiling. He went inside and the first person that he saw was Terri. She was at the door checking in the invitees. She smiled brightly and put her hands on her hips when she saw him coming.

  “Hey, Mikhail.”

  “How are you, Terri?” he asked and gave her a polite hug, though the tightness in her returned embrace made it clear she wanted it to be more.

  “I am wonderful,” she said and kissed him on the cheek before pulling away. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m doing pretty good. Excited to see what Dante has in store for us tonight.”

  “Come on,” she said, looping her arm in his. “I’ll show you.”

  Though Terri was beautiful and likeable, i.e. fuckable, she was also very into herself. Those attributes reminded him of Toya and that wasn’t his type of woman anymore. Immediately, he thought of Nova and how he was sure she was his type.

  “Here it is,” Terri said with her arms extended.

  “What do think?” Dante asked; coming up from behind them.

  “Hey, Dante,” Terri said as he and Mikhail performed the international black man’s handshake.

  “It’s nice,” Mikhail said slowly, looking at the series of colorful lines that seemed to randomly cover the canvas. He stood there for a moment, wondering what it represented. He hoped if he stared at it long enough, its meaning would jump out at him, but it didn’t. “What do you call it?” he finally asked.

  “I call it Across The Color Line. It was inspired by W. E. B. Du Bois’ use of the term in his essay Of the Dawn of Freedom.”

  “I’d never heard of that.”

  “Du Bois implied that universal exclusivity of color was the greatest problem of the twentieth century.”

  “Twenty-first century too, if you asked me,” Terri added and both men agreed.

  It was then that a small brown-skinned woman came up and whispered something in Dante’s ear. “Excuse me, Mikhail.” He grabbed Terri by the arm. “Come on,” he said and dragged her away.

  “We’ll talk later, Mikhail,” she said, looking over her should as they walked away.

  Mikhail waved and after one last look at the painting, he shook his head and walked away to take in the rest of the art on display. He had strolled around for a while when he was drawn to a beautiful portrait of a veiled woman dressed in the rustiest orange-colored dress with her hands on a crinoline. He was also drawn to the chocolate beauty that was admiring it. Something about the way her curves fit into her A-line dress drew him in.

  He walked up and stood next to her.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said after a while.

  “Yes, it is,” she said and glanced in his direction. “Mikhail?”

  “Nova?” He looked at her, his heart rate accelerating as he remembered being deep inside of her over and over again.

  She nodded her head quickly, almost with embarrassment. “It’s me,” she said, displaying the smile that he’d grown so fond of during the cruise.

  “How are you?” He was trying to play it cool. He had tons of questions, starting with where the hell had she been? He played it cool Though.

  “I’ve been fine. What about you?”

  “Still trying to get my head out vacation paradise.” He stared at her and she stared back.

  After a while, she turned away to look back at the painting. “This is my first time attending a viewing of Dante’s. A friend of mine has been telling me for years how wonderful he is. So, when she heard about this opening, she invited me to join her but she had to leave here to help a client going through crisis.”

  He just stared at her. Just happy they seemed to be alone again. He realized they had moved fast on the ship and that he wanted to pick up where they left off, but he wanted her to want that too.

  “Now that you’re here, would you consider trying to procure one of his pieces for your gallery?”

  This time her smile was soft, and he noted that talking about art made her happy.

  “Yeah, definitely. One of my current goals is to work with more contemporary artists of color.”

  “Maybe one day I’ll have to hand you one of my paintings I keep hidden away. That way we’ll have a connection again.”

  “I’d love that,” she said in a pleased tone, her eyes large, expressive and beautiful like he remembered.

  Though her voice betrayed another emotion. It said she wasn’t interested in going back to paradise.

  “Cool. What do you say I get us a couple of glasses of wine, some finger foods and then find a nice quiet place to talk?”

  Over the next hour, the two caught up and Mikhail was tempted to ask her to come back to his place but knew that he couldn’t. She was skittish and he knew he had to mo
ve slowly in hopes of securing her number.

  Not for the first time, he wondered why he was going through so much trouble to get next to this woman. It’s not as if he lacked for female attention. Shoot, he could walk over to Terri, and take her home now.

  Chapter SEVEN

  When Nova disembarked from the ship last month, she was still tender from their lovemaking. There were still days that just a glimpse of a memory would assail her and her core clenched as it remembered Mikhail stroking her body over and over. He had been an expert lover and great company.

  She was also trying to figure out how to move on from it knowing there was no such thing as moving on when it came to him. After their first night together, they were inseparable. The next port found them much the same. They took a bus tour of Freeport and stopped at a restaurant where they ate jerk chicken and sipped on Carib beer.

  They laughed with each other and had so much fun that even when they ran into Toya and her buddies from high school, they ignored her sneers and returned to Nova’s cabin to make love. She was on a high with him and didn’t want to come down. His attention and his sex were making her feel like she was catching up from a year's long drought.

  But on the last night, as he held her whispering sweet nothings against her temple, reality started to sink in. There was absolutely no way they would return back to Chicago and continue this affair. Paradise was one thing; real life was another. In her mind, Mikhail would eventually figure out he had too many drinks and wouldn’t want to be seen with Nova the Scum.

  So as he slept, she slipped out of his cabin. She rushed to pack so that she would be in the express departure to get off the ship. She’d never given him her number so there was no way for him to reach her. Nova did have his if she ever decided to reach out, which she knew she would want it, but would never actually do it.

  Days later, Debbie was still trying to get all of the details. Nova only shared that Mikhail had, in fact, been on the cruise and that they were friendly now.

  “Did anyone tease you like you were worried about?” She asked, her eyes big with curiosity.

  “Nope, not one person had a bad thing to say.”

  “See, I told you. Not that it was ever warranted back then, but girl, you got it going on today. No one can deny it.”

  The part that had always bothered Nova was the fact that she was never scum. Sure, she had glasses and the occasional acne breakouts. Sure, her glasses were so thick that you could use them to burn ants on asphalt. But, she wasn’t atrocious, so she could never understand the issue.

  “They are just jealous of you,” was what her mother would say. That explanation never sat right with Nova back then. It still didn’t.

  What did they have to be jealous of? They were the ones that had everything she wanted at the time. Lots of friends, popularity, and the fashionable clothes.

  Her parents worked hard to provide for her and her little brother, but there wasn’t much for extras, like brand name clothes and shoes, which meant she didn’t fit in. Toya represented a long line of girls she attended school with who had everything, while Nova had to make do.

  Nova knew that’s the reason why she spent more time focusing on what was beautiful in the world, especially art. It led her to a career of buying, displaying and vending art pieces she found, which represented her passion for her culture. Which is why Deb buying the Eternity piece from her warmed her heart. It would go perfectly in any room where conversations took place. What she ended up sacrificing for the sale was what she questioned being worth it.

  The sex had been amazing. The time they spent talking and frolicking was what she had only dreamt of until it happened, but she knew she wasn’t his type. Even with her confidence much improved, and stylish clothes, she was still a plain Jane in comparison to Toya. Toya wore a cute pixie cut in honey blond tones that complimented her hazel eyes. Every time Nova ran into Toya, her face was full of makeup, complete with eyelashes that she seemed to switch out for different outfit choices. Wearing makeup in that sweltering weather seemed a lot to go through and would probably run, but she did it and she seemed to get attention for it.

  Nova, with her simple, bronze lip gloss and kohl black eyeliner, was the star of the ship. Mikhail made her feel like she was a star all five days and nights. She just wasn’t foolish enough to get wrapped up in it. Her heart betrayed her each day she was tempted to call, or she played with herself to the memory of him watching her do it for him. And when he moved her fingers out the way to replace them with his tongue, lapping and sucking her to another orgasm, her body would tighten around her trusting fingers until she would squirt on the clean sheets.

  This is how she spent the last month. So when she bumped into him at the gallery, her body started to respond. It wanted to go home with him ― but she resisted. When he got her number to take her out on a date, she told herself she would lie when he called and decline, but that’s not what she did. She told him to pick a place and time.

  There was just something irresistible about Mikhail that made Nova care less and less about the past, because the present kept saying he was into her now and that was all that mattered.

  Why keep fighting what felt inevitable?

  Chapter EIGHT

  All day, Mikhail had been excited, anxious and a bit apprehensive thinking about his date with Nova. So much so, that he could barely concentrate on anything without thinking about Nova. He was excited because she wanted to see him again. Just the prospect made his dick hard and he had to stop himself from jerking off in the shower. It wouldn’t be satisfying, he knew. He needed her.

  Mikhail was anxious because he knew that a lot of what held them back after the cruise was the past. The fact that his classmates and he, by default of not stepping in when he should have, teased her for years.

  The apprehension was because he really liked Nova and wanted to get to know her. Honestly, he thought they might make a good couple if she gave him half the chance, but once he put himself out there, he could be hurt if she pulled back from him.

  He had sent Nova a text earlier that day and asked if she wanted to have dinner with him at Bubba’s Shrimp. He waited and hoped she’d say yes.

  Let’s start small and hope she replies. Baby steps.

  He was in the middle of explaining a car’s features for a customer when he got her text. It caused him to stumble over a few words when he read, I can be there at six. He recovered quickly enough for the mom of four not to notice. She bought the minivan with a smile on her face.

  “You must really love to sell cars,” she commented.

  He chuckled and slid the next document for her to sign in front of her. “Why do you say that?” He wouldn’t go as far as saying he loved selling cars, his true passion was in the paint, but he did enjoy it most days. He was a people person and had always been told he could charm the skin off of a snake.

  “I don’t know,” she smiled. “You just seem so happy about showing me the car.”

  Mikhail returned her smile. “I have a date with a lady.”

  “She must be special.”

  Mikhail thought about how special Nova was. Special enough that he felt like a teenager going out on his first date.

  Later on, after he parked and walked toward the Pier, Mikhail took time to admire the beauty of the Centennial Wheel and the Chicago skyline as a backdrop. It was one of the first things that he ever tried to paint during the days when he had to hide his passion for art.

  When he got closer to the spot that he had designated to meet her since she insisted on coming separately, Mikhail saw that Nova was already there waiting for him. Her dark brown face lit up revealing the groves in her cheeks. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled the way they had when he first saw her on the ship. Her hair, coily and free, swayed with the blowing wind.

  Damn, she was fine.

  He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

  Remember, baby steps.

  “Hi, Nova.” He wanted to hug her, pull her small
frame into his so he can feel her curves, and smell her sweet perfume, but he sensed she wasn’t ready. He felt very comfortable and familiar with her, given they had already been intimate, and that part of him wanted her in his arms but he sensed she wasn’t ready to return back to that place they shared just yet.

  “Hey, Mikhail,” she said, still considering whether she was doing the right thing.

  “I hope that I didn’t keep you waiting long?”

  “Not at all. I had just walked up when I saw you coming.” She was curious, so she asked. “What were you looking at?”

  “The view. Chicago at this time of day is beautiful,” he said, extending his hand.

  “I think so too,” Nova took his hand and walked away with him toward Bubba’s Shrimp. While he tried to ignore the tingling in his hand that she held firmly, she asked him, “Have you ever painted it?”

  “A lot.” She looked surprised for a moment before smiling. “Why a lot?”

  “It was the piece that I wanted to perfect. I think every artist has one. One that shows them just how much they’ve evolved. Well Chicago’s skyline is one of those for me.”

  “I’d like to see one someday.”

  “I would like to show one to you,” he admitted.

  He wanted to show her all his art and he wanted her to be his art. Let him paint all over her and with her. More than that, he wanted to hear her laugh, and listen to her ideas. He just wanted this woman.

  They were each searching for the right words to say, each hoping not to mess up the good vibe, each remembering what they shared. “Did you have a good day?” they both asked at the same time.

  “Jinx.” Again, at the same time. This time they started to laugh together.

  “Looks like we are in sync,” he said while she tried to stay quiet to avoid them jinxing each other again. His words took the smile from her face and replaced it with wonder.