#i propose we give this person ANOTHER apple pencil. because these are golden

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 2 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Okay so, to be honest, we really thought that we were doing this for ourselves and that maybe a few people would read it. The fact that so many of you guys have been SO kind and supportive is just lovely and we are infinitely grateful for you all!! Here is Chapter 1. Here’s a link to AO3 if you’d prefer to read there. 💫

Last Chapter: Violet received the thrilling news that Fame intends to promote her to design as soon as she finds and trains a new assistant.

This Chapter: We meet the other department heads.

***

Violet looked out on the conference table one final time, consulting the list in her notebook to make sure that nothing was forgotten. It was Wednesday morning, the 9am monthly creative meeting starting in less than 15 minutes.

The table was set with a light breakfast spread, no one but Trixie and Alyssa ever actually eating at these things, but she had made sure there was a selection of fruits, and that everyone had their favorite beverages besides the ginormous coffee order. Keeping track of the department heads and their various likes and dislikes was almost a job in itself, but Violet had gotten it down to a science.

There were frosted Pellegrinos for Fame, Raja preferring grapefruit juice. Alyssa liked Redbull, Alaska preferred diet Doctor Pepper, Trixie was a regular coke kind of guy while Pearl was a wildcard, but Violet had a good feeling about the chocolate milkshake, since she had heard the rumor that Pearl had been out partying.

Violet had spent most of last night writing the job description for the new assistant, falling asleep with her notebook in hand, only to wake up in a panic at 3 am to realize that the electricity was out yet again. She had slept restlessly for the rest of the night, then missed her first alarm, barely making it to her gym for a shower before coming in to work at 7.30 sharp, and while Violet knew she looked flawless, it felt fundamentally wrong to take a stop at her gym without working out.

The only bright spot so far had been how HR had accepted her initial proposal right away, giddiness bubbling in her chest at the thought that the process of finding her replacement was actually happening.

“- and don’t forget to bring the swatches.”

Raja Amrull was standing by the window, her phone to her ear, a cup of coffee already at her lips as she spoke to her assistant.

Raja Amrull was the chief creative officer, co-founder of Galactica and one of Fame’s very best friends. Violet took a moment to watch her as she gave order after order, her voice filled with a natural authority that always made Violet’s stomach do a flip.

Raja was wearing a mustard fitted pantsuit, the black hair that almost reached her waist put in intricate braids, and Violet knew it was the work of her girlfriend. Raja’s tan skin was practically glowing in the morning sun, the dark brown tattoos on her left hand standing out.

Even though she was in her 40s, 41 if Violet remembered correctly, she still looked every bit the supermodel she had been in the 00’s.

Raja wasn’t a naturally sweet person, but in Violet’s opinion that didn’t matter. She was competent and got her business done, which was something Violet admired in a leader.

“Violet?”

Violet blushed, the sound Raja’s voice cutting through her daydream. She had been so caught up in watching her that she hadn’t actually paid attention, but Raja had never been known for her patience, so she simply snapped, pointing at the room's thermostat, and Violet quickly made her way over, turning it down four degrees to the temperature she knew Raja preferred.

She felt like an idiot for forgetting, and she promised herself that it wouldn’t happen again.

Alaska, head of makeup and fragrances, was the first to arrive. The blonde wasn’t particularly talkative before her third cup of coffee, her every word drawn out in long lazy vowels. Alyssa came second, Violet counting her blessings that the marketing director had shown up on time. Alyssa always got the job done, but getting her anywhere on schedule was always an experience, the woman forever off in her very own world where she was the star of everything.

Fame was third, her first words as she stepped through the door, “Why is no one ready?” and Violet felt her stomach clench.

The meeting wasn’t scheduled to start for another 10 minutes, but that was one of the most terrifying things about Fame. She was never early, she was never late, everyone else was simply supposed to be there the exact moment she wanted them.

Violet was just about to open her mouth to apologize for Pearl, when the woman in question came in through the door.

“Morning everyone.” Pearl smiled, her voice a slow drawl. She was wearing a black turtleneck crop top, a black miniskirt and Violet was pretty sure she could see pieces of golden glitter in her unwashed blonde locks.

Alaska waved, but Fame gave her one single slow judgemental once-over, the kind that Violet had witnessed cause several interns to burst into tears.

“What are you wearing?” Fame’s voice was icy cold, but Pearl only smirked.

“You don’t like it?”

“Did you sleep in your makeup?” Fame reached out, touching Pearl’s chin with a single finger and tilting her head up, turning her face from side to side. “You know how I feel about this mistreatment of your skin.”

Fame dropped her hand, and Violet immediately handed her a tissue. Fame wiped her fingers, giving the now crumpled paperback to Violet, the whole exchange taking less than 10 seconds.

“You smell like an illegal teen party.”

“It’s because I’ve been to one.” Pearl smiled brightly, Fame’s disapproval and rudeness clearly not touching her at all. “Wait until you see the photos. Half the partygoers were wearing our newest print. Trixie was absolutely right-”

Just as Fame said those words, Trixie pushed through the door, the senior creative team of Galactica now all present, to Violet’s relief.

“You rang?” he said with a cheeky grin, earning a fist bump from Pearl.

It had taken Violet months to realize how much of a genius Trixie actually was--his close-shaven brown hair, obvious bald spot, a fondness for colorful t-shirts and love handles all doing everything they could to hide that he was one of the main forces behind Galactica’s success. But Trixie (who’s real name was Brian, though Violet had never heard anyone call him that) was wildly creative, known for his effective management style and outside the box thinking.

While Raja handled the broad creative direction and was the face of the company to customers and consumers, Trixie was in charge of the day to day operations of the design departments. He ruled the design atelier and the tailoring department with a gentle touch, though no one dared cross him, Trixie just as willing as anyone else in the boardroom to do what it took to get the job done.

“I’m sorry I’m late-” Trixie yawned, barely hiding it behind his hand.

“I take it the collection is going well?” Raja smirked, her knife cutting through an apple.

“Don’t even ask.” Trixie groaned, sitting down in a chair, grabbing the coffee - two-pump caramel, whole fat milk - Violet delivered to his hand and drinking it down greedily. “My machine broke and ate most of my prototype.”

“So it’s not here?” Fame raised a brow, but Trixie shook his head, reaching into the paper bag he had brought along.

“I’ve been remaking it all night on Katya’s shitty theater machine.”

“Oh, my poor darling.” Fame leaned against the edge of the table, gently running a hand through Trixie’s buzzed hair. “We’ll get you a new one.” “Thank you.” Trixie smiled, and Violet grabbed her notebook, knowing that Fame without a doubt expected her to find the exact same machine Trixie had broken and get it delivered to his apartment before the workday was over.

***

A knock caught Violet’s attention. She was back in the office, writing out her to-do list from the meeting, her nails clacking away on the keyboard.

“Violet?” Max Malaphany was standing in the door, a smile on his lips. “Is she in?”

Max was an impossibly tall British man, his soft short hair grey, his eyes blue.

“Sorry,” Violet quickly pressed save, turning her chair. “Fame is in a meeting, but I can pencil you in for later?”

Max was Galactica’s main photographer, and one of Fame’s treasured darlings. He had a studio on the top floor, his sure hands and endless patience capturing all in house media, Galactica producing every single shot for their website themself, and while Violet wouldn’t have believed it made that much of a difference, their online portfolio had thousands and thousands of visitors every single day.  

“I’ll just wait here.” Max was carrying a portable light table under his arm, and Violet could only guess what would be in his backpack. “I’ll only be a moment.”

If it had been anyone else, she would have protested, ushered them out of her little front office one way or the other, but Max was different. He was one of the few calming presences at Galactica, he never probed, rarely gossiped, and Violet truly enjoyed that about him.

“Do you want some water?” Violet had a mini-fridge under her desk stocked with the most important supplies, since she never knew when Fame’s cravings or the mood of her guests would strike.

“I’d love that.”

She quickly grabbed him a water, and Max settled down in one of the plush armchairs normally reserved for visitors. He didn’t start talking, wasn’t trying to make chit chat that would inevitably turn awkward, which was why Violet had allowed him to stay.

She went back to her memo, working for a little while but her eyes were stinging, and she only barely managed to hide a yawn behind her hand.

“Are you feeling alright, Violet?” Max asked gently.

“What?” In spite of her exhaustion, Violet was in a fairly good mood, and while she didn’t have the sunniest disposition, she wasn’t actively annoyed at the moment. She quickly checked her face in the glass door to the office, smoothing down her hair.

“You look lovely as always, Violet.” Max smiled. “I was only asking because, well, I’ve never seen you slouch before. Are you feeling unwell?”

“Oh…” Violet straightened her back, her fingers in her thick black locks. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay.” Max nodded. His expression was so understanding, his manner so patient, that Violet did something she rarely ever did. She offered more information.

“I’m just tired, I-” Violet swallowed down a nervous chuckle, her tongue feeling like it was growing in size in her mouth. “I don’t sleep well these days. The electricity in my building, isn’t, it isn’t very stable, and I keep having these nightmares where my phone runs out of charge so I miss an important call and-”

“Oh dear.”

Violet realized how stupid she had to sound, but she had woken up covered in sweat thinking she had missed calls from Fame, any rest she got broken up by the worry that she wasn’t doing her job.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing to worry about really,” Violet assured him. “The landlord said they’ll rewire the building-” Max didn’t need to know that her landlord had been promising that exact thing the entire time Violet had been living there, but she didn’t really have any other options, her student debt way too much for her to even consider spending another penny on rent. “I’m sure it’ll work itself out.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck with that,” he said sincerely. Just then, the door opened and Jaida, the company's CFO, came out.

“Max!” Fame appeared in the doorway, a delighted smile on her face.

Violet’s stomach turned to ice, everything in her begging that Fame hadn’t heard her complain.

“Hello Miss. I know you’re terribly busy, but I wondered if you could spare a few minutes to discuss the test shoot for the new brochures yesterday?”

“Of course, anything for you!” Fame said. She truly was a different person in Max’s presence, Violet noted. Softer and calmer--as most people were.

“Wonderful.”

***

“Oh I don’t know about this light for orange, it’s so ghastly-” Fame was chewing her lip, a lens in her hand as she went over the pictures Max had brought in for her.

“Fame?”

“Yes dearest?” Fame looked up. She loved Max. When Pearl had told her of a British wildlife photographer she had met in LA and bullied into taking her picture, Fame hadn’t been interested. As always, Pearl had proven to have an eye for talent that few could compete with, her social media director not only able to sniff out trends like a bloodhound, no, she knew people, and she knew them instantly.

Max had a rare talent for capturing the natural beauty of an unnatural world, so much of fashion made up of things that didn’t matter, but when he shot, when he turned his lens on someone, he captured all the best they could offer each and every time.

“I heard Ivy moved in with her boyfriend.”

“Mmh?” It was indeed true. Raja’s assistant, Ivy, had been living in the building Fame and Patrick owned for a few years. Fame and Raja had almost gotten in a fight, something that never happened, when Ivy’s house in Queens had been torn down, but in the end Raja had gotten her will, Ivy moving into the studio apartment on the top floor. “She left two weeks ago.”

Fame had meant to find someone else to take the apartment, but that building was special. It wasn’t just an apartment complex, it was a place where she kept her chosen ones, a safe haven she offered to talent that she trusted.

“You know, Violet doesn’t have reliable electricity. In her building. I mean.”

“Oh Max.” Fame smiled, touching Max’s knee. “You have always had such a tender heart.”

[coyotesongwriting]

May The Best Turkey Win

Avengers - No pairing, just happy fluff of the team

Story Summary:  When you get put in charge of Thanksgiving, you're excited to make a fried turkey. Steve doesn't take it very well, and the two of you end up in a cookoff to see who can make the better turkey!

Author’s Note: Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you enjoy this little bit of fun with the Avengers!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Tag List (if you want to be added or removed let me know!):  @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark @redfoxwritesstuff​ @brokenthelovely  @collinsstanharbour  @rorynne​ @proudhufflepuff77​ @darthhayber​ @alwaysadreamingoptimist​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​​ @carissime72​ @gatorgal94 @samsgoddess

~~November 1~~

Thanksgiving was coming up quickly, and you’d managed to convince Tony to let you plan the family gathering for everyone. Steve, Bucky, Clint, Bruce, Nat, Tony, Peter, Thor, Loki, Wanda, Vision, Sam, Scott, Hope, everyone was going to be there and you were insanely excited. Thanksgiving had always been one of your favorite days of the year - good company and great food? What more could you want out of life?

You’d forced Tony to give up control of the party to you when he started talking about caterers and party planners. Thanksgiving isn’t about having perfectly cooked meals or a big bash, no. You just want to spend the day with your family, eat too much and watch some movies. Steve and Bucky had been quick to back you, and they were looking forward to a more relaxed celebration with you in charge.

You were seated at the kitchen table, working on the menu. You’d need to pre-make anything you could, so you had to get a move on and make the grocery list too. Tapping the pencil against your cheek you stared down at the list in front of you. It always frustrated Tony that you still kept lists like this on paper, but living around so much tech, it was sometimes nice to have something so old school.

Deep-Fried Turkey Salad Mac-n-Cheese Mashed Potatoes Sweet Potatoes Gravy Cranberry Sauce Green Beans Rolls Stuffing Pumpkin Pie Apple Pie

You were too caught up in planning to realize Bucky, Steve, and Sam had taken over the kitchen and you only looked up when Bucky grabbed the list from in front of you. You’d tried to grab it back but he’d quickly jumped back and now all three were looking at the list.

“[Y/N]” Steve cocked an eyebrow, “You can’t deep fry a turkey for thanksgiving.”

“Um, excuse me, but yes we can?” you huffed playfully, “Fried Turkey is superior, and that’s what we’re having.”

“It’s Thanksgiving! You can’t have a fried turkey. It’s just wrong!” his voice was determined as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You mimicked his posture, a cocky grin lighting up your face, “It’s not the dark ages anymore, Steve. Fried Turkey or bust!”

“It’s a classic and it’s traditional to cook it in the oven. Thanksgiving is all about tradition, you can’t go messing with that! Not with the turkey, [Y/N]. That’s a line.”

“I’m team Fried Turkey!” Clint announced as he and Nat strolled in fresh from training, they’d overheard the tail end of Steve’s argument and it was clear they were ready to take sides.

“I have to side with Steve here, there’s a reason the oven-roasted turkey is a favorite” Bucky shrugged, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge.

“I’ve been watching a lot of Food Network, we could spatchcock it?” Sam suggested.

“No!” you and Steve both cut him off quickly.

A slow smirk crept onto your face as you turned back to Steve, “I propose a cook-off. We’ll both make the turkeys we want for Thanksgiving, and everyone can vote on which is better.”

“Oh, it’s on!” Steve smiled, “But what does the winner get?”

You pursed your lips, fingers drumming on your arm as you thought, “I’ve got it. When I win, you’re going Black Friday shopping with me. You can carry my bags and distract people.”

He blanched slightly, you’d been showing him the videos of the pandemonium from the last few years yesterday and the idea of willingly venturing into that pit of crazy was not sitting well with him, “What do I get when I win though?”

“Dealer’s choice. You can pick whatever you want since we both know I’m going to win it doesn’t matter” you grinned.

“Deal, what are the rules?”

You shrugged, thinking for a moment before looking at Sam and Bucky, “You can’t just vote for him because you like him better. You have to vote for the better turkey!”

“But can we vote you just because we like you better?” Nat asked, laughing.

“Well, duh. Just make sure to let me know that’s why, so I remember to thank you properly later” you winked.

“Well that’s fair” Steve huffed, “How about no cheating? We have to cook it ourselves. No help, no buying the turkey. A good old-fashioned cookoff.”

“Of course you’d want it to be old-fashioned” you teased. Steve rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored your teasing, “Is that fair?”

“May the best turkey win,” the two of you shook hands, and you immediately began to plot.

~~ Thanksgiving Morning ~~

You guys had gotten back from a mission yesterday afternoon, and you were exhausted. You’d remembered to apply the spice rub yesterday before you passed out thankfully. Unfortunately, you’d barely had a couple of hours of sleep before you had to get up and start cooking. Pepper, Clint, and Bruce were all in the kitchen helping you. You’d decided to go all out when cooking, and wanted to make sure there was something for everyone, and that meant there was a lot to do. You’d been unable to premake anything like you’d wanted, missions had been keeping everyone running, so there was a lot to do and so little time.

The day was flying by, and you’d barely even noticed when Steve prepped his turkey and placed it in the oven you’d left available for him. Finally, it was time for you to fry your turkey. Martha Stewart’s recipes had never steered you wrong, and you could only hope she wouldn’t this time either. You carefully lowered the turkey into the hot oil, careful to splash any out and sat by to wait anxiously.

When the timer went off and you were sure the turkey was cooked to the perfect temperature, you pulled it out and set it on a rack so the excess oil could drip off. The turkey looked absolutely perfect, a rich golden brown and the smell was pretty amazing too. You carefully picked up the turkey and brought it inside. Steve was the only other person in the kitchen when you got there, everyone else had finished what they needed to do and had (wisely) decided to get out of the way of you two.

It looked like Steve had just pulled his turkey out of the oven, and set it out to rest when you walked in. His turkey was a lighter gold than yours, but it smelled amazing too.

“How’s it going Rogers?” you grinned.

“It’s almost the moment of truth, so I guess we’ll know then” he shrugged, smiling.

“I guess we shall” your nerves were beginning to grow as you waited anxiously. Tony and Clint had been harassing you all month, telling you that if you lost they would make sure you paid dearly, and you really didn’t want to see what they’d come up with if you lost.

You carved your turkey, relieved to find it wasn’t bone dry, and when you snuck a piece you were pleasantly surprised. Having never made a turkey before in your life, you honestly hadn’t had too high of hopes. Apparently, even you couldn’t screw up a Martha Stewart turkey, and now it wasn’t just arrogance that had you smiling, it was actual hope. The food was arranged around the serving table, and the turkeys were placed on opposite ends of the table.

When you announced that dinner was ready, you’d made sure to stand back, and for good reason. Clint, Scott, and Peter were the first to the table and you were glad you’d gotten out of the way because they arrived much like a stampede. The others soon followed, and once everyone else had grabbed their plates you grabbed yours and joined them at the dining table.

During dinner, you pushed the turkey competition out of your mind, enjoying the little moments like this. Who knew how long it would be before all of you were gathered here again, between missions and living in different places with families and friends and outside lives, it was never a sure deal when you’d all be together.

Tony, Bruce, and Vision were all caught up talking about the latest experiments they were working on in the lab. Their eyes lit up as they spoke, new ideas flying back and forth like a ping pong match, and you didn’t understand half of the words they were using.

To your left, Steve, Nat, and Hope were talking about movies again. You and Nat had been helping him catch up on more movies, and he was enjoying it. Lately, though you’d made it your mission to show him some cult classics, and it was always so much fun to see the look on his face. The last movie you’d made him watch was Rocky Horror Picture Movie, and you weren’t sure you’d ever laughed so hard at someone’s face before. He’d banned you from picking movies after that.

Peter, Clint, and Loki were your trouble makers, always, and tonight was no exception. Any hope you’d had that they would mind their manners today quickly went out the window when you saw the green beans discreetly flying towards Tony. You softly cleared your throat and when they turned to you look at guiltily, you merely cocked an eyebrow. Peter shot you an apologetic smile, but Loki and Clint quickly returned to whispering plans. That was never a good sign, but you’d find out what they were up to later when they pulled some insane prank on everyone, like always.

At the opposite end of the table, Bucky and Sam were in another heated debate. To anyone outside the team, the two looked like they hated each other's guts with the constant teasing and trying to one-up each other. It hadn’t taken you long to realize though that that was merely their friendship. Some days you half wondered if Sam had replaced Steve as Bucky’s best friend considering how often the two were together. Tonight it appeared that they were busy arguing over who would be able to take down a Kree faster.

Wanda and Thor were listening to Scott’s latest story about Cassie (she had convinced her parents to let her go on a trip over Thanksgiving, and it was clear he was missing her today). Apparently, Cassie had taken a lesson or two from her parents. Last week she’d gotten in trouble for threatening a kid at school, and everyone had been horrified until they found out she’d been standing up to a bully who had been picking on some of the other kids.

Sitting here in the middle of our family, everything felt right, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere but a part of this group of mismatched people. Soon enough, dinner was over and after the plates were piled in the sink - Clint, Scott, and Peter would be doing the cleanup tonight since they’d insisted on sending so many green beans flying tonight - you eagerly turned to the others.

“Well?” you asked, bouncing up and down lightly on the balls of your feet.

“Well, what?” Tony asked, smirking. The asshole knew what you wanted to know and wanted to tease you about it a bit first.

“Oh my god, Tony if you guys don’t start telling me which turkey is better I’m going to lose my mind! I need to know if Steve’s coming with me in the morning” you snorted, grinning at the super-soldier.

“Fried!” Clint and Peter cheered, and you grinned widely.

“Sorry [Y/N], I’m sticking with the good old-fashion roasted turkey” Bruce apologized with a shrug.

“Fried is obviously better” Tony smirked.

“I have to agree!” Nat laughed

“I’m sticking with the traditional” Sam explained.

“That’s because Steve’s your best buddy” you teased, playfully frowning.

“No, it’s not!” Sam argued.

“So… you’re saying you don’t like my cooking” your eyebrow raised.

“That’s no- This isn’t fair!” Sam huffed, causing Clint, Bucky, and Steve to burst out laughing at their friend

“I’m going with the classic as well” Loki shrugged.

“I preferred your creation” Thor grinned, clapping you on the shoulder hard enough you stumbled forward half a step.

“I don’t know how this is even a question, anything fried is the better option. Think about it, deep-fried twinkies are even better!” Scott argued.

Vision and Wanda shot you a small grin, “Sorry, we have to go with Steve here.”

The only two left to vote were Bucky and Hope, and your nerves were growing. You figured that Bucky would end up going with Steve, so you needed Hope to side with you if you had any chance of winning or even tying. Steve looked just as nervous as you, and you weren’t sure if he was just excited by the idea of winning or terrified of going Black Friday shopping.

Hope thought for a long moment before speaking, “Sorry [Y/N]. Yours was delicious but I have to go with the good old-fashion oven roasted.”

All eyes turned to Bucky, and he blanched as his thoughts raced. He didn’t quite enjoy being the center of attention, but he was busy debating each one. Everything came down to him, and he needed to make sure he made the right choice.

“Sorry, I have to say the best turkey was the…” Bucky paused, and you were about to throw a leftover roll at him before he continued, “Fried.”

Loud cheers and groans echoed around the room, and you quickly swept Bucky up into a brief hug before high-fiving Tony and Clint. Steve sighed and as he accepted defeat, giving you a congratulatory hug. Before anyone could begin to debate, Friday interrupted to let you all know that a mission was incoming and everyone needed to head to the briefing room.

You smiled softly as you all headed there, the movies would have to wait for another day, but today had been perfect and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[aviationfiction]

XXVI

Dante St. James

“Your total today is five thousand four hundred and thirty two dollars and forty cents. How will you be paying sir?” I passed my American Express Centurion card off to the Apple sales technician while doing my best to concentrate on the e-mail I’d opened up on my phone.

I achieved what I deemed to be the impossible by signing on Apple for the sake of collaborative work in public relations and marketing. Over the course of three days of grueling meetings with Tim Cook and a team of seven other executives, where I did far more listening than speaking, I presented arguably one of the best business proposals of my career in hopes of even having a narrow chance to work with the number one hardware company on the globe. Unlike anything I’ve ever dealt with before, I allowed them to pick apart every line, bullet point, concept, and strategy I mapped out for a time frame of five to seven years. Aside from internet fodder that anyone has access to and can speculate about, I’ve never been behind the scenes or apart of any of their immensely classified meetings for their highly renounced products so there was quite a bit of improvisation meshed in with a ton of research I’d done to pull together this vision for sole dominance in every promotional avenue possible. I’d always known Apple to be a easygoing company in terms of approach and marketing style, but the pensive expressions on their pale faces left three days worth of sweat beads trickling among my neck. I never expected the applause, smiles, handshakes, and even welcoming hugs I received once we were in agreement about figures and myself being the sole partner and consultant for the account on the A&M side. In two weeks, I’m heading out to their new multi billion dollar campus headquarters in Cupertino, California for an official welcome and tour of the state of the art facility.

“Would you like your receipt e-mailed to you, printed, or both?”

“Uh. Both, I guess.” I used my finger to sign my signature on the digital receipt and quickly responded to yet another one of Mike’s text messages summoning me to the nightclub. It was the third one he sent within the last half an hour so I have no choice but to rush over there. I’d already been on my way but decided to stop once I drove past an Apple store. I haven’t physically been with Autumn since the morning after my birthday celebration and that was eight days ago. That morning, we were playfully fondling one another and she dropped her iPad on the marble flooring in my apartment and shattered the screen. Though she shrugged it off and mumbled that she’d replace it at some point, I made a mental note to grab her another one whenever I passed by one of the simplistic yet easily noticeable stores in the city. While here, I remembered her saying she left her laptop in Miami so I had Megan, the sales tech, add in the latest Macbook Pro with the iPad Pro I’d already picked out. Of course, she wouldn't be a great saleswoman without finessing me into grabbing the Apple Pencil for the tablet, Apple Care for both products, and additional physical protective accessories.

“Well, here’s your receipt Dante. Thank you so much for shopping at Apple today.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your service. You were a great help today Megan.”

“You’re so very welcome.” I stuck the receipt down into the bag and pulled the strings on it until it was sealed while making my way out of the store and over to my Aston Martin. I didn’t have a chance to rest in the seat and get my seat belt on before Mike was sending over another text message pondering about my whereabouts and what was taking me so long. Just as I was about to laugh off his urgency as him being purposefully dramatic, his follow up message about Issac Dupont showing up caught me off guard and left me riddled with confusion as I took off into the traffic filled New York City streets. Over this week of being apart, Autumn and I spoke a few times through FaceTime and phone calls, but for these past three days of meetings our few text messages back and forth turned into silence on both ends as I became consumed in trying to close that Apple deal and her with taking on the role of planning Meridian’s annual Christmas party. I can recall just about every word of every conversation we’ve held over the week and aside from the Christmas party, she never mentioned Isaac so his pop up is certainly nothing more or less than random.

“Come on taxi driver.” A huff slipped past my lips while I watched him move at a snails pace to get back into the passenger seat of the mustard yellow vehicle and drive off. I’d been driving fifteen minutes longer than I should have been just to get to Chelsea. Rush hour would be starting in another two hours and yet traffic is already hell. It’s times like this when Mike’s persuasive rants about why I should buy a house in New Jersey enters my subconscious but when I add in the reality of myself living in such a large space alone just like he is, I toss his idea out of the imaginary window yet again. I have Marv for those days when my patience for these streets are thin.  

My car replaced the taxi driver’s in the usual spot I park in when I’m at the restaurant or club and I swiftly exited the vehicle. While adjusting my tie, I tossed the bag full of Apple products into the trunk of the car and disappeared behind the upper level golden door. As soon as I descending down the stairs, I spotted Issac standing at the bar with a glass of what I could tell was nothing more than juice and an expression of frustration written all over his face. Mike was no where in sight and that within itself was odd. He’s a people person and on any other day, he wouldn’t dare leaving anyone standing alone within our establishments if they were here to speak to Fredrick or myself. Something had to have been said or the vibe must have completely threw him off to the point of him needing to walking away.

“I’m not sure how long you’ve been waiting for me, but I’d just gotten out of a business meeting and I had something else to handle before I could make it over here. My apologies for the wait Isaac.” He nodded instead of acknowledging my sentiments verbally. His hand gripped the cocktail glass to the point of the tips of his fingers reddening and the tension radiating from his frame caused both of my eyebrows to rise in curiosity.

“You’re screwing my sister.” I’d pictured this moment in my head in multiple different scenarios but overall, I didn’t picture it happening one on one, nor with this type of response and yet I have no fear, hesitance, or doubt about myself or what I have with Autumn. If anything, I’m far more offended by what he assumes to be going on and how he’s belittled it to me using her for sex.

“Did she tell you that? I have to ask because if she did, I doubt she said it in such a shrewd and inaccurate manner.” Autumn’s the only person who I could assume would have told him about our relationship. No one on my end knows Isaac well enough to approach him with such information and despite his stares and what ideas he may have been concocting in that head of his, we’ve never done anything in front of him that pointed out what I believe is now the obvious. Autumn doesn’t speak to me in front of him unless he coerces her to do so and when she does, she refuses to make eye contact. Though it irritates the living hell out of me, she still references to me by last name in front of him, and we don’t communicate with one another on his company’s grounds. I considered sending her flowers just yesterday and I had to stop myself because there was a possibility that she would have either been flustered by such a risk or she would have been livid.

“Page Six. There was an article written about her that came out this morning. You know, though she may be in denial about it, people know who Autumn is. Whether she likes it or not, she has that cliche basketball wife title lingering over her head and it’ll be there forever. In the article it speaks about her being spotted around with a mystery man who she’s been seeing for months. In addition to that, it speaks about her being spotted leaving this nightclub hand in hand with said mystery man after his birthday festivities. Though the mystery man’s name isn’t mentioned, it is noted that he is said to be a wealthy and successful New York City business man. Based upon your file, your birthday was a few days ago right?” The glass rattled as it landed on the golden surface and splashes of it’s contents splattered around it.

“It was.” I slid my hands down into the pockets of my pants and my eyes narrowed at the way he was introducing this situation. I don’t read gossip sites. I don’t keep up with anyone’s business but my own and those around me and that’s to a certain extent. Sure, I’ve had articles written about me and there may have been a few on Page Six given that I’m a nightclub owner, but gossip? Never. Stacey would have told me. Surprisingly, I can’t believe I’m hearing this from him first. I don’t give a shit either way. Whether mystery man or Dante Elliott St. James is written all over the article, it doesn’t deter me from my everyday life and most of all, my woman.

“I’ve watched you and the manner in which you stare at her. I’ve questioned the random lies Rachel would tell me. Autumn’s budget reports from every trip taken would never make much sense but I sat on it and decided not to jump to conclusions although I should have.”

“Autumn and I grew close to one another and developed a bond that was not only undeniable, but also special. We didn’t expect to fall for one another but it happened. I believe that’s typically how natural attraction and acting on said attraction works. We got to know one another and in doing so, we continuously gravitated towards one another. Eventually that developed into the both of us wanting to be in a relationship.”

“A relationship?” His condescending laughter filled the space like something out of a movie. In all that he’d already said, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint what his anger was about and how he was going to go about handling it. His words don’t faze me, but the tension between he and Autumn affects her no matter how much she tries to brush it off as typical sibling friction. “Autumn just got a fucking divorce and you’re talking to me about a relationship with her. You have to be kidding me.”

“She got a divorce from a man that she wasn’t with for two years prior to the divorce. What’s your point?”

“I don’t think you know the details of Autumn and her poor choices in how she got into that marriage, what she gave up for that sham of a marriage, and the behaviors that she had while within what ended up being nothing more than bullshit.”

“I know everything.” I’m confident that there’s nothing he can say to me that she hasn’t already explained. She’s gone into detail about she and Andreas’ marriage in an approach that I never thought she would do it in. No woman has ever shared the inner workings of the former relationships or current relations with me in such a manner, not even Stacey. She took a raw approach and allowed me into the six years of her life she spent with and without him in such a vivid manner that I was left sympathetically wallowing in her sorrows and yet still trying to figure out how he could give up on someone who stood by and believed in him and them despite the toxicity of their union. I know enough to hear the pain within her voice lingering in my mind as I stare at her only living sibling who refuses to relinquish the pain of the past and move forward in a positive manner.

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

“Issac, I’m lost. What are you getting at?”

“She’s your flight attendant. Do you realize that?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t mean to shrug my shoulders so nonchalantly. It happened out of a reflex and that seemingly set him off even more.

“She doesn’t have shit going for herself. This is what I’ve spoken about with Autumn multiple times and she refuses to get it. She’s reckless, impulsive, erratic, and she lives her life in the moment. I should have known that she would do this shit once she started working for you because that’s just who she is. Instead of getting her life together, now she’s with you and you’re financing her. That’s not helping Autumn grow. You’re enabling her to be everything that she was with him and that resulted in her being a failure in so many aspects. You want that on your hands?” He’d officially put me into a maze and I was mentally trying to figure out every direction to take without insulting this man and yet every fiber of my being was in defense mode for all that he had to say about a relationship he knows nothing about and the woman that the both of us loves. Love makes this far more complicated than I need it to be because I can’t figure out a boundary.

“I’m not enabling anything. What is it with you and your negative outlook on everything that she does? Why are you so affected by the decisions that she chooses to make for her life? How is any of it hurting you? The past is the past. She’s no longer married and she’s moving on with her life. You have to allow her to do that in whatever capacity that she chooses to do so. You’re treating her and speaking on her as if she’s just gotten out of prison after committing a heinous act. She’s not a criminal Issac. She’s a human being that made very human choices. She’s doing so much better and I believe you know that, but you’re holding a grudge against her so this is how you’re getting back at her I suppose.”

“I’m not getting back at her. I want what’s best for her.”

“And you think I don’t?”

“You don’t know her.”

“By the way you’re speaking about her I’m more prone to believe that currently, I know her better than you do. This isn’t a competition for me by the way. She’s your sister. We play two different roles in her life and much like yourself, I only want and encourage Autumn to be and have the best. The progression that she’s made as a person is nothing less than incredible and you should be proud of her. The manner in which she handles her job and the way she respects the dignity of your company should tell you how much she loves and respects you. She’s precise, a quick thinker, and extremely intelligent. I don’t even think she recognizes how intelligent she truly is. I’m not enabling anything because she won’t allow me to do it nor will she allow you all to do it. I’ve spoken with your mother and one of the things she spoke with me about is how stubborn and headstrong Autumn is about getting her life together on her own terms without handouts from anyone. If she’s not letting you all get in the way of that, what makes you think she’s going to allow me to do so? She’s happier. She’s laughing more and living her life. She’s lost so much and she’s pushing forward. Give her a pat on the back for it. Why the hell would you continuously kick her down?”

“You said it yourself, my mother described her as stubborn and headstrong. Shane was always the one to enable the parts of Autumn that are erratic and all over the place while I was the one who pushed for her to stay focused on what matters.”

“And her being happy personally doesn’t matter?”

“It’s secondary.”

“That’s not for you to determine. That’s also a fucked up way of thinking, by the way.”

“What’s for me to determine is her working for me and being romantically involved with a client which is inappropriate. I’ve dealt with tons of unnecessary drama because of bullshit like that and the last person I want to deal with that from is my sister.”

“You’re not going to deal with that on this end because my personal life is exactly that. No offense to you, but I don’t see a reason to involve you or anyone else in it. Our work situations are irrelevant. I’m not stepping on your toes or hers. If she quit today, that wouldn’t change anything. I’m not out to hurt or make a fool out of your sister. I’m not that guy. I’m not Andreas either and right now, you’re speaking to me like I’m him.” Autumn’s purposeful distance from her family and their lack of truly getting to know her ex-husband has left all of them with resentment towards him that they’ve never been able to express to the person responsible for it. Though Autumn believes Isaac anger is all in reference to what she didn’t do professionally and her lack of attendance at his wedding, I know the majority of it is pent up emotions towards the man who hurt her in so many ways for so long. I’d feel the same way if I had a sister and she unraveled mentally and physically because of pain being inflicted upon her. Unfortunately, I cannot resolve those issues for any of them. All I can do is be an upstanding man for Autumn and take care of her in the manner that the guy before me didn’t.

“You’re not Andreas, but you’re coming too soon after Andreas.”

“That’s not for you to determine Isaac.” My shrug was intentionally this time. He cannot speak for her and I’m not going to allow him to. This is no Romeo and Juliet, forbidden love story.

“Is it that good?” He stood up straight and my condescending snicker eventually turned into a deep frown as his question replayed in my head.

“This is your sister we’re speaking about right now. Show her some respect.”

“Show me some respect.”

“I’m respecting you by entertaining a conversation that we technically don’t need to be having. Despite how you may feel or what you do or don’t want, I don’t have to ask for your permission to be in a relationship with Autumn. I don’t even have to ask you for her hand in marriage if that should come about between she and I. I’d like for you and I to get along as professionals and personally as well, but it’s not on me at this point. There’s no hostility on my end and I doubt there ever will be, unless it’s necessary. I love your sister and I’d rather not hear some type of if I love her, I’ll let her go and allow her to get her life together type of ultimatum because that’s not going to happen. Her life is together. She’s breathing, living, and progressing at her own pace. Whether that is or isn’t good enough for you, that’s perfect for me.”

“You love her?” I don’t know if my eyes deceived me when I noticed a bit of the tension in his shoulders loosening or if it was simply my emotions being in overdrive about a genuine truth I admitted to Isaac before I expressed it to the woman of my affections. I had to let it out one way or another and I didn’t want him to leave here today thinking anything less than that.

“I love her.”

Silence loomed between the two of us and our staring match didn’t falter as we remained in the same spots we’d been in throughout the entire exchange. There seemed to be nothing more to say and Issac proved that to be true when he grabbed the glass filled with cranberry juice, tossed all of it back into his throat as if were the most potent shot we serve, and walked past me to make his exit. As I began my walk to the office, I could hear the door close behind him and the tension he filled into the place left with him.

“What did he say to you?” Mike didn’t bother turning to face me. He was focused on the security monitors in front of him and whatever he was concentrated on was far more important than him turning to face me with silly banter or our usual manner of greeting one another.

“What?”

“You usually stick around if we have someone coming in for a meeting if Fredrick and I aren’t here yet. You’re courteous. What happened?”

“I wasn’t texting you about Issac Dupont being here. He just so happened to show up so I let you know. I also didn’t stick around with him because I was consumed with this shit. I had to come back in here to make sure I saw what I saw. Have you heard about or seen this shit?” He finally up glanced at me.

“Seen what?”

“This shit from the night of your birthday.” His finger tapped a button to rewind footage from the outdoor camera and he quickly stopped on a specific time frame. “You know I tend to go through the footage just to make sure things are flowing correctly and to catch whatever I wasn’t able to see while being consumed with whatever is happening in the moment. This shit threw me off. Look at this and tell me what you see.”

He pressed play and my stomach instinctively tightened at the sight of my brother and Autumn being within inches of one another. A force within me caused me to lean forward to get a better look at the monitor and I watched as he spoke to her. There was no way possible that I’d be able to make out what he was saying because the camera wasn’t zoomed in enough. Though I cannot read lips from a side profile, I could easily sense whatever was pouring out of his mouth was insolent because that’s all he knows how to be.

“Rewind it just a few seconds.” Mike did as I instructed and I watched Autumn flinch. She flinched at least twice. “Rewind it again.”

She flinched three times and took a step forward to create space between their bodies as she responded to him. Matthew invaded her space within a second of her moving and fury filled my core as I watched his fingers trail up the back of her thigh.

“You seen that shit right?”

“Rewind it again.” I watched it over and over again; at least eight times to take in every single minute, second, and millisecond of the man that is supposed to be my brother, intimidating and sexually harassing my woman. She’d gone from flinching, to frowning, to a chilling blank stare as she froze in place in reaction to his fingers igniting a fear within her.

“Dante…”

“Rewind it.”

I tortured my mind once more; further worsening the vexing of my being. What I felt was like anything I’d ever experienced before. I could feel a fire flushing through my veins and viciously creeping up every inch of spine, as the acidity residing in my stomach awaited the moment for me to allow it to flow out of my mouth by the way of a verbal attack. Every muscle in my face tightened in unison with my jaw and lastly, my fists balled to the point of aching as I glanced at Mike.

“Take a ride with me.”

Mike’s words of rationality were on deaf ears as I tried to the best of my ability not to test out the two hundred mile per hour speed maximum my car has the capability of doing to quicken the drive to Richard and Elizabeth’s Scarsdale, New York home. Between the traffic on the Bronx River Parkway and the sound of my horn irritating me far more than it did the drivers I was trying to rush out my way, the rage within me worsened beyond my control and was far beyond whatever influence to calm down Mike could get into my irrational mind.

“Dante!”

I didn’t bother with properly parking the car as I snatched the key out of the ignition and slid out of the drivers side. I left Mike to fend for himself.

For the first time in all of the years they’ve had their home, I used the key I’d been given to open up the door. The first person in my line of view was my mother and her olive green eyes lit up in glee at the sight of my presence.

“Hi sweetheart.”

“Where the fuck is he?” Her gleam dimmed instantly and confusion filled her expression as I brushed past her to find the source of my wrath.

“Who?”

Richard’s laughter from the kitchen gave away their location and my heart thrashed against my chest as my lungs tightened because of the pace I’d chosen to move in. Matthew’s position was on a stool at the kitchen’s island and I didn’t bother with any words as my fist connected with his jaw. I lost the ability to have visuals and detection of my surroundings. My mind strayed from the capability to exude logic and reasoning in my actions. The adrenaline within my frame heightened and the mission of my hands and feet was to destroy the source of my outrage. The piercing screens of the woman who birthed me and the stern voice of the man who helped her did nothing to stop the blows I was inflicting upon him and the few he was landing on me in self-defense and retaliation. I’d had many moments over our years of growing up together when I wanted to do nothing more than throw a punch in his direction for his bullshit and there were a few times during my pre-teen years when I actually wanted him to beat me down one good time so he’d finally get those resenting emotions out and be done with it. Though the spats were often and the violence was non-existent, I quietly knew one day it would happen. I could never pinpoint exactly when nor what it would be over, but of all the opposing things that have been said and done between the two of us, him violating Autumn supersedes all of it.

“Dante stop it!”

I could taste my own blood as it gushed from the inside of my mouth and rather than that being the signal to end the onslaught of blows, I spat it on him in hope that such a disrespectful gesture would further entice him to continue warring with me.

“That pussy must be phenomenal.” He could barely let out his laughter through his rigged breathing and I took a chance on my harshly aching hand. He avoided one fist only to collide with another and a black haze hovered over me as our bodies crashed into the island and glass went shattering.

Richard’s arms were tightly wrapped around my body; just about cutting off my air supply and signifying that a few of the blows Matthew landed on me did damage somewhere within my rib cage. I’d underestimated the strength within his sixty year old frame as he pulled me away from his son and put enough distance between us so the scuffle could finally end.

“This shit isn’t over. I’ll catch you slipping again and I swear on my life if you utter another word to her I’ll finish you off.”

“Alright Dante man, that’s enough.” It was the first time Mike said anything since my exit from the car. I hadn’t even noticed he came inside.

“Say to who? What is hell is going on here?” I thought Richard would be amused by such a moment between the two of us. He thrives off of the competition he created and gets joy out of making sure to keep the both of us humbled by slyly knocking one down for the other; it mostly being me. I figured he’d let us go at it until I was near the point of being in a casket. That just tells me I’d done enough damage to Matthew to alarm him.

“Get the fuck off of me.” I felt more pain in snatching myself out of Richard’s grasp than I did when those punches were landing on me. The shrilling sound of my mother’s voice calling for me was an afterthought as I made my way through the halls and out of the door. I didn’t want to spend another minute in that residence if I wasn’t going to be able to finish what I came to do.

“I’m driving you to the hospital.” Mike held my keys in his hands as I pressed against the drivers side of the car and I quickly shook my had to negate that.

“I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine.”

“Your mouth is gushing blood. You’re going to need stitches somewhere in there. We’re going. Get in.” I didn’t bother to argue with him about it as I slid into the car on the passenger size. I couldn’t. All I planned to do today was pick up Autumn, take her out for lunch at her favorite pizza spot, and head home so we could spend some time together until we fly out to Turks and Caicos tomorrow. When they say life throws you curve balls, I certainly experienced that today but I don’t regret anything. The conversation with Isaac was necessary and beating the shit out of my brother had to happen. There was nothing to talk about between he and I because there is nothing that I can say to him that will get through that demented mind he has.

From the moment a friendship developed between the two of us, I never wanted Autumn to meet my family. I was unnerved when we were conversing in Miami and she revealed that Matthew flirts with everyone at Blue Star and Meridian, despite having a wife. Though she didn’t elaborate on it, I wanted to be informed about his exact words to her so that I could put them to a stop immediately. At the time, it was less about myself and more about him being a vulture with no regard or respect for women; that aspect of him seems to be six feet under with his mother. Richard’s already paid to sweep two sexual harassment accusations about him under the rug and tossed under the table money at a number of news reporting publications to keep it out of their news reports. I’ve never sexually glanced at, lusted over, or flirted with a single employee since the day I was officially brought on board despite the advances, blatant staring, and supposedly innocent offers for lunch. I didn’t and still don’t want my brother’s reputation and the last thing I want to do is lay with the same women he’s been with.

Because there was only footage, I don’t know what he said to Autumn but his body language expressed his lust loudly. I’m not surprised by that because I expect it not only from him but from just about every man that encounters her whether taken or not. Her presence stops movement within rooms. Her beauty turns the head of bother genders. In all the times that we’ve been out and about somewhere on this continent, I’ve observed men reacting to her. My presence hindered their approach. I observed my own colleagues undressing and eye-fucking her at my birthday party when they assumed I wasn’t looking and though he's my brother, he's as much of a stranger to me as they are. I always expect the worse from Matthew, but I can take his ignorance. I’ll never allow him to direct that in Autumn’s direction. I will ruin his life before it ever gets that far.

“You feel better?” I don’t know how long Mike had been standing there watching us but he did absolutely nothing to stop the altercation and I’m amused and appreciative of it. He could have never shown me the footage. He could have  chosen to never take the ride with me. He could have done his best to stop me from getting into that door but he did nothing. I’m now prone to believe he wanted all of it to happen because he too has a disdain for Matt. Had it been anyone else, Mr. Zen would have talked me out of it.

“I feel good enough.”

“Here man. Put this up to your face.” He passed me the hoodie he’d been wearing and I did as he instructed to save the interior of my car from bloodstains that a thorough detailing wouldn’t even be able to erase.

“Hopefully there aren’t a lot of people in the emergency room and they can take you right in. You have all of your information in your wallet? Insurance and shit?”

“Yeah, it’s on me. My fucking rib cage has this piercing pain. He kept punching me there.”

“Body blows. He was trying to get you to stop. You fucked him up though. I’ll tell you that much. Your Jon B ass face only has one bruise on it and then there’s the lip. I think it’s split from the inside.”

“I can feel it.”

“They’ll probably do a few stitches. I called Autumn by the way.” I quickly whipped my head in his direction and frowned at random revelation. “I didn’t know what you were going to do so I called her because you weren’t going to listen to me and I kind of didn’t want you to, so I was going to let her be your voice of reason but by the time I got inside, it was too late.”

“So why did you call her?”

“You were going to have to explain yourself one way or another.”

He pulled the car over at the White Plains Hospital emergency room entrance so I wouldn’t have to make the trek with him from the parking lot and I headed inside to resister myself to receive some type of service. Either they were having a slow day or my lip looked worse than I thought because they offered to take me in and have registration done from an examination room. I’ve never been a fan of going to the doctors or having people putting their hands all over me for whatever reason it may be, so the nurses and doctor checking my vitals, cleaning my lip and bruised cheek, and constantly asking me questions that I didn’t care to answer ruined my calm.

“They’re going to do x-rays of your face and your rib cage.” Mike felt compelled to finally glance up from his GQ magazine to make his presence known despite seeing me exasperated by all that continued to go on around me. I’d heard the doctor loud and clear for that part. Him speaking about the swelling in my lip and the bruising on my rib cage entered one ear and went right out of the other because I was too focused on my phone to truly pay attention and the pain killer administered by the nurse probably played it’s part in that too. Medicine is another thing that I dislike but the sensitivity and pain I felt with every move I made outweighed my ego.

“Is he in here?” My head rose at the sound of a voice I not only wasn’t expecting but most of all didn’t want to hear and I huffed once she drew the curtain back and stared at me with a frown on her face that I hadn’t seen since I threw a football and shattered the glass of her china cabinet when I was twelve. It’s moments like this when I lean in the direction of her possibly loving me but then I have to realize that at some point during whatever conversation we choose to have, she’s going to tread in an area that will further enlighten me on how much she actually doesn’t. I’ve yet to figure out what she feels. Is she indebted to me because I passed through her birth canal or am I something to gloat about when she’s draped in diamonds and furs while having pretentious tea parties with the women she deems to be her friends? Am I a physical example of the love that she shares with her husband or am I the nuisance that mistakenly became of it?

“What the hell has gotten into you?” I didn’t expect her to ask about my health, how I felt, and if everything was alright. I’d did some damage to her kitchen, disrespected her home, and most of all attacked the child that she caters too most although he’s technically not hers. I crossed a couple of lines. “Do you hear me speaking to you?”

“I don’t have to answer to you.”

“Dante Elliott St. James, you broke his nose, blacked his eye, and chipped one of his teeth.”

“That’s it?” My attempt to smirk was far more painful than I needed it to be but I still did it just enough to further nettle her.

“I don’t know. That’s all the doctor has said thus far. You can please talk to me about what caused all of that? I really want to understand what brought you to the point of violence. That’s not like you.” I didn’t bother to answer because she’ll never understand me. She never has. Our conversations have always been one sided and filled with her opinions and emotions on who I am and the state of our relationship. She’s never gravitated towards my side no matter how I felt or how valid my points were. She thought I could handle it all and eventually, it didn’t matter to her anymore which is why I was shipped off to London. I don’t ever recall having a heart to heart with my mother because she’s oblivious to what doesn’t directly affect her. For as long as I was laced in designer clothing, sleeping in a bedroom filled with whatever I supposedly wanted, fed, attending the best schools, and not punching holes through walls and breaking laws like Matthew, I was fine in her eyes. I accepted my black sheep position within the St. James family and I’ve been living it for thirty years. I’m fine with it at this point, for as long as they stay out of my personal space, and that’s a boundary that they’re respecting less and less these days.

“You alright in here?” Richard stepped beyond the curtain and took a good look at me. As he stood there with his hands stuffed down into the pockets of his slacks, I nodded and returned my attention to the unanswered text messages on my screen. Autumn hadn’t responded to the two I sent and I didn’t know whether to be worried or panicked.

“I didn’t know you could fight.”

“Richard. Please. Okay?” Her hand quickly flew up to cease his amusement and she stared at me with disdain while awaiting an explanation that was never going to happen. She stood there staring at me for so long that her companion walked away and left her to it.

“Dante. Fighting is not you. Is it really over a woman?”

“Ask him.”

I finally decide to properly utilize the bed and I laid back against it’s uncomfortable surface. My body was giving in to the potent pill’s side effects no matter how much I fought against it and I suddenly felt like I weighted far more than I actually do. The last thing I remember was Mike warning me that my sleep wouldn’t be long.

I only hoped that it would be long enough for her to have left my personal space.

“Mr. St. James. We’re going to stitch your lip now. You may not remember because you quite groggy but we did the x-rays. There are no fractures in your face nor are there any fractures or bruises within your rib cage. You most likely pulled a muscle. There’s really nothing we can do about that other than letting it heal and that should take about a week or two. You’ll probably feel some pain when you take deep breaths and during movement, so we’ll prescribe some ibuprofen to help with that. Take them as needed. Ice packs help and most of all, rest. If you can get some rest for a couple of days, that should do you some good. You have a pretty deep cut in the inside portion of your lower lip. We’re going put about four or five sutures in there and that should heal within two weeks. You can either come back to the hospital or go to your primary care doctor to have those sutures removed. Do you understand?” I don’t remember the x-rays or the length of time that I slept. It didn’t feel like a long or short length of time. I oddly felt like I was out of it and like I could do nothing more than let whatever was happening take it’s course.

“Does he ice his lip as well?” Her soothing voice filled my ears and for the rest time in hours, the tension in my body subsided and chills trickled along my spine and the nape of my neck. My eyelids shot open and my head twisted in search of her physical form and I found the other worldly beauty standing along side the bed and glancing down at me in a distressed state. The frown on her face filled me with guilt and yet I could still do nothing more than admire the beautiful presence that stood in an establishment full of life and death.

“He can, if he wants to.” I placed my hand on hers as it held onto the railing of the bed and she immediately laced our fingers together. She didn't bid me a smile. Her eyes were scolding me for my actions and most of all for being in such a place for all the wrong reasons, in her opinion.

“Did you just get here?”

“I’ve been here for twenty minutes.” We were unexpectedly alone; no Mike. He mostly likely left so I could feel her wrath on my own. Her piercing eyes were filled with the beauty that they always contain but the pain in looking at me a bit bruised up slightly overshadowed it. Still, she said nothing. She simply held my hand while her eyes followed the doctors every move to make sure he handing my lip properly. She questioned every move he made from the shot of Lidocaine he injected into my lip for numbing to the type of stitches he’d be using so I wouldn’t have any allergic reactions.

“Everything looks good Mr. and Mrs. St. James. The nurse will bring back two prescriptions for you; one is an antibiotic to prevent any potential infections and the other is for the pain. You’ll also get a couple of papers with some instructions for taking care of that lip. Then you’ll sign your discharge documents and you’re free to go.”

“I appreciate all your help.”

“It was my pleasure.” He closed the curtain to give us privacy as Autumn shook her head and grabbed my face to exam the bruise on my cheek.

“Mike told them that I was your wife so they’d let me in.”

“I figured it was something like that. Where is he?”

“He went to get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria.”

“Did you see my parents?”

“No.” That was exact the answer that I wanted to hear.

“Baby, I’m okay. You don’t have to stare at me like I’m not going to get up and walk out of this bed within the next ten minutes.”

“But you’re not okay. The last time we were on FaceTime with one another, you were okay. Right now, you’re laying here with a bruise on your cheek, a busted lip, and your chest is hurting. That doesn’t sound like someone who’s okay to me Dante.” There it was. The contempt written all over her face had finally come out of her mouth and I grimaced at the tone she chose to use. I knew she’d be upset but not to this capacity.

“I’m fine Autumn.”

“Okay.” Her lips thinned as she pursed them together. She still held onto my hand while awaiting the nurses arrival but she had nothing else to say to me. Her silence disgruntled me more than it should have and had the nurse and Mike not broken it within minutes, I’m certain an argument would have happened in the midst of myself trying to get her to speak to me.

“All set?” Mike bought a hospital t-shirt from the gift shop for me to wear home because my white Tom Ford shirt was no longer wearable. He’d also gotten me a milkshake to cure the hunger I hadn’t even complained about just yet.

“I am. How’d you get here?” Autumn flung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed the plastic bag containing my now ruined shirt and the papers I’d left on the bed.

“Glen. He dropped me off.”

“Autumn if I drive back to the club so I can get to my car, will you drive him to get the prescriptions and then to his apartment?”

“Yeah, that’s no problem at all.”

“I can drive. I feel fine.” I wasn’t as groggy as I felt prior to falling asleep. Sure I was still sightly floating but it was manageable.

“They gave you Vicodin for the pain. You’re not driving anywhere.”

Suddenly my best friend and girlfriend felt like my parents as they left me to trail behind them while they discussed my state and just how I’d be looked after for the time being. There was no room for me to give any input because Autumn had no interest in hearing me out and Mike kept his attention on her out of respect and probably intimidation that he wouldn’t admit to having. While in the car, Autumn sat in the backseat so I’d have the option of stretching my legs out and we barely had anything to say to one another for the forty five minute drive back into the busy streets of Manhattan.

“I’ll call you and check on you tonight. Alright?” Mike extended his fist in my direction and I bumped it with my own and gave him a nod of my head.

“Thanks for rolling with me.”

“Where else would I be? Besides, I’m posting that shit on World Star Hip-Hop.” I smirked because the pain would have been unbearable if I laughed. Hell, it would have been unbearable if I winced in response to the pain from the laughter.

“Make sure they cut a check first.”

“Aye, you know me. I always make sure the numbers are right. Rest up brother.” Once he was out of the drivers seat and outside of the car, he the shut the door and had yet another brief conversation with Autumn about God knows what. I didn’t care to ease drop. Not only did I want to do nothing more than go to sleep, but I was more focused on making it to the pharmacy so I could fill those prescriptions before whatever they gave me in the hospital wore off.

“What pharmacy do you usually go to?” I looked on as she put her seat belt on and shrugged in honesty. I don’t have a specific pharmacy. The last time I filled a prescription was three years ago and I wasn’t even in New York when I did it.

“I think I have an account with Walgreen. So we can stop by any one of them.”

“Okay.” Silence again. At every red light, she fingers tapped on the steering wheel in aggravation and refused to look at me no matter how many times I adjusted myself in the seat just to draw her attention. Though she’d consider the figure fitting black maxi dress and the white Converses she paired with it as something she just threw on, I was left to just about drool over how it hugged every curve and crevice of her unrivaled form. My mind transitioned to lust filled thoughts of all the ways I wanted her once we were in the privacy of my apartment. Fuck the pain. She’d cure it.

“So you’re going to give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day?”

“What do you want me to say Dante?” I’ve never been indifferent about my name until now. It flowed from her lips with venom.

“What exactly are you mad about?”

“You can’t be serious right now, right?” Her laughter was filled with disbelief and hints of emotional exhaustion. “You fought your brother and based upon what Mike explained, it was over me. Do you think I’m going to approve of that? I don’t ever want you fighting and especially over me. You can’t even go to work. Look at your face. Just imagine what they’re going to say around that building if they find out that you two were at one another in such a capacity. You’re so much more rational than that and you posses more logic than most people do. I’m pissed that you felt compelled to do that. I don’t want to be the cause of you doing that type of shit.” My attention left her and my eyes panned over the melting pot of humans walking along the sidewalks. I heard every word she said and yet they’re probably the most pointless ones she’d expressed to me since we met.

“What did he whisper in your ear?” I needed to hear the answer to that more than anything else she has to say about what happened.

“I’m not telling you. Why, so you can go and start another round? Your brother is an asshole. You know that much better than I do. He said some asshole shit and I’m sure you know that based upon what you saw. I didn’t feed into it. That’s really all I have to say about it.” My body straightened in the seat and I whipped my head back in her direction. Her dismissal of my question was fuel thrown on the budding fire between the two of us.

“What did he say Autumn? And why didn’t you tell me what happened in the first place? After I parked the car and returned to you, you pretended like everything was just fine although that shit happened. Why wasn’t I notified of it then?”

“Because everything was just fine. That didn’t ruin my night and I wasn’t about to let it ruin yours. Don’t turn me into a villain because I didn’t want to ruin my man’s birthday with his brother’s bullshit. We were having a good time and we continued to do so even after they left. We went home that night in peace. That’s what the night was about. Should I have enticed you to swing on the man then? In front of your colleagues and friends? Be realistic.” She parked the car on the corner of Broadway and pointed at the Walgreen down the street. There was no way possible she’d be able to move closer to it.

“You should have told me. We’re honest with one another. We’ve been that way since the start so why would you ever feel compelled to keep something from me, especially some shit like that. How am I supposed to feel?”

“Spared. Give me the prescriptions and I’m going to need your identification and insurance card. I’m not sure if they’re going to give it to me but we’ll see. If not, you’re going to have to go inside.” She held her hand out for the papers that were resting on my lap and I didn’t budge. Yet again an answer of hers was the complete opposite of what I was looking for and didn’t make much sense in reference to this situation.

“Spared? Spared of what? I’ve been dealing with him since I was three years old. You’re not sparing me from anything, but I’m so glad that you thought one night would make all the difference.”

“Great. I’m so glad to know that you don’t appreciate the effort I put forth in trying to make sure your thirtieth birthday went smoothly. You’re welcome.” She reached over and swiftly snatched everything off my lap. I was on the verge of biting my lip to refrain from responding but the swelling and unpleasant sting of the sutures halted me. Her attitude didn’t falter as she reached between the two front seats and snatched her neon green bag out of the backseat. As she requested, I handed over what she asked of me.

“Don’t try to paint it as me being unappreciative because we both know that isn’t the case. It’s about me looking out for you. Is that not what I’m supposed to do? You were looking out for me right, so am I not allowed to reciprocate that?”

My question went unanswered just as the others did. I didn’t expect her to welcome me with open arms and applaud my actions. I know who she is and what is inexcusable by her standards though I firmly stand by my actions and the reasons why they took place. She’s protective of those that she cares and she would have taken a swing at Matthew for me before she ever encouraged me to do it for her. She’s a giver and not much of a taker. She compromises and sacrifices far more than she ever should have to. She’d deal with Matthew’s ignorance for the sake of sparing me of it even if it’s for a night but I can’t respect or fall in line with her not allowing me to play my part in my half of our relationship. I’m protective of those that I love and care about. I’m a giver. I know how to compromise and make sacrifices. I will go to war with whoever for the sake of sparing those that I love from pain and disrespect, especially when they’re innocent. Matthew targeting her wasn’t an indirect attack on me, it was as direct as he can possibly get it.

I had a twenty minute conversation with Stacey, who wanted every single detail down to the attire I was wearing during the altercation, and Autumn still didn’t return until ten minutes after my phone call ended. While waiting for the prescription to be filled, she went shopping in the store for at least four bags worth of products. The drive to my apartment sounded like typical medication commercial where the pros and the cons of whatever pill is being advertised. She ran down every possible side effect of the typically prescribed pain killers and had even purchased an over the counter substitute if they should start effecting me negatively. She didn’t stop when we were walking into the building I reside in and nor did her medication talk cease while we were taking the elevator up to my apartment. I would have rather her continue giving me the silent treatment instead of her suddenly morphing into a walking pharmacist who had nothing better to do other than to speak about work.

“I bought you some ice packs. I’m going to put them into the freezer now and once they’re nice and cold, you should put them on your chest to keep the swelling down and for pain relief. I’ll make you a sandwich or something to hold you over until I cook something. You need to take the medicine before whatever they gave you at the hospital completely wears off.”  

“I spoke with your brother today.” She halted once she opened the freezer and eventually nodded her head as she tossed the gel filled plastic pads inside of it.

“Yes, I know. You’ve had quite an eventful day. He cursed me out twice.” Her starting sarcasm wasn’t enough to obscure what she mentioned immediately after it.

“He cursed you out?”

“Twice.” Her verification came with a smirk and those scolding eyes she’s been giving me since I opened my own in that stale examination emergency room pierced through me. Her frustration was clear, as was mine, but hers stole her cool and has had her zipping around like a bee and lost in her thoughts since she arrived to be by my side.

“I didn’t know he would show up. He began speaking about some Page Six story and…” before I could finish the rest of my statement, she interjected it for her own.

“And you confirmed it.”

“Was I supposed to lie?”

“You were supposed to wait until I was ready to tell him.”

“And when would that have been? When we’re married?” The statement flew out of mouth before I could regain control over my discontentment with her mood and the day. My shoulders sunk in unison with my internal thoughts and emotions as I watched her eyebrows rise in response to my words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for that to come out that way. I apologize baby.”

“Right.”

“Autumn.” My sigh was loud and I rested my elbows on the island as she rummaged through the fridge for the ingredients to put together my favorite type of sandwich.

“You should just stop talking. That works too.”

I took her advice.

We were trapped in our thoughts as she continued on with her task without much regard or acknowledgement of my presence. Once the pills were down my throat, she sent me off to the bedroom with the plate and a bottle of Gatorade to wash it down with. My attempt at a nap was a failure until she adjusted the pillows on the bed for the sake of my comfort, positioned the ice packs on my chest, and shut the redundant ESPN off so I would stop distracting myself. I yearned for her to lay beside me but it was a wish not granted. I craved her lips on mine, but I’d seen more of her back as she walked away from me than her beautiful face and perfectly shaped supple lips. I desired her touch, but all I was left with was the sound of her being everywhere within my home except where I was.

And still, she looked after me.

I love her and I know now more than ever that she is on the same accord.

She showed me better than she could tell me.

That’s an honor I’ll defend at any given moment.