Respect Me, Part 1 by Nia Arthurs
Jerrison
I drove to the gym,hoping to find Fuentes and talk some sense into him.
The last person I expect to meet when I step inside is my wife.
Wait… is she my wife?
She looks different. Better. Happier.
The Harriet I used to know.
Time warps. Becomes something new and something familiar.
I look at her and she dazzles.
The hallelujah chorus rings out.
Can anyone else hear it? Does anyone else spot the angel?
She’s dripping in sunshine, brown skin glowing from sweat and adrenaline. Her hair’s pulled into a long ponytail that cascades down her back. The sleeveless T-shirt has deep cut-outs at the sides, revealing a hot pink sports bra. The pants reveal her petite legs that are no less appealing for being short.
My eyes slide down her body.
The journey is smooth. Butter in a hot skillet.
Her head. Her shoulders. Her hips. Her legs.
The tightening of my chest reminds me of the past. The beginning. Back when Harriet was every breath I took and every thought in my head.
She scowls and the lights dim.
The angel turns dark.
Golden harps go silent.
I return to the reality where my wife left me and my business is about to fall apart.
An answering scowl rises on my face.
If not for Harriet, none of this nonsense with Fuentes would have happened. Maybe Zedina would have jumped off the deep end, but we could have put up a unified front. We could have protected our empire together. Now, I’m left defenseless. My vulnerable parts exposed.
A battle of insurmountable odds.
And I’m fighting it alone.
“What are you doing here?” Harriet lifts her chin. The ponytail bounces harshly. Even her hair has an attitude. “Did you follow me?” That eye roll is probably going to cost her with a steep headache later. “If you hired another PI, Jerrison, I swear I’m not going to let that slide.”
“Relax.” I draw nearer to her because she’s the sun and I’ve been missing her warmth even if I’d never admit it out loud. “I’m here for Fuentes.”
Her eyebrows hike. “Fuentes? He trains here?”
I nod. The kid is a strange one. He could afford to buy out an entire gym. Hell, he could afford to build a mansion and put one inside of it. But he insisted on continuing his training at this old place. Said loyalty is more important to him than a paycheck.
Fuentes and his stinking standards.
I put the blame on them for getting me into this mess too.
“Why would you come all the way down here just to talk to Fuentes?” Her eyes are sharp, gleaming with intelligence.
I’d forgotten that. How perceptive she was. While sneaking around with women, I fooled myself into thinking that I was pulling the wool over her eyes. Seeing her now, with all that crackling intensity, I realize how stupid I was to believe that.
My wife saw everything. She knew and she acted clueless.
It irritates me for some reason. Makes me feel like I’m losing the upper hand.
I don’t like it.
“Why do you care?” I shoot back.
She lifts a shoulder. “I don’t.” Hips swaying lightly, Harriet marches toward me, her eyes on the door.
I raise a hand and bar her way.
She glares in my direction. “Move that hand unless you want me to break it.”
There’s too much hatred in her voice. Too much heat.
She’s the one who walked out.
She’s the one making crazy demands.
I inhale deeply through my nose and remain in place. Fuentes’s words echo back to me. I’ve got two months to convince that young pup I’m working on my marriage or he walks. And takes an incredible amount of my money with him. Along with my good press and all the connections I’ve made with other athletes who want to follow in his footsteps.
As much as my pride demands I tell Harriet to keep on walking, that’s simply not a possibility. If I lose her, I lose my golden ticket to the top. Fuentes was dead-serious during his visit yesterday. There’s no way the kid will stay if I don’t fix this.
My eyes skitter away from Harriet and lands on the boxing ring. Memories of flirting with her inside of those ropes fill my head.
It’s distracting.
I push it out of the way.
“What do you want, Jerrison?” Harriet snaps. Slender arms cross over her chest. Her sneakers tap the ground impatiently.
“Does it have to be Doc?” I mumble. Shame bristles under my skin, prickling me. I don’t want to stand here negotiating with my wife. I don’t want to be the first to give in. But do I really have a choice?
Her head whips sharply to the side. I hear knives sharpening when her eyes bore into me.
Harriet scowls. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean,” I turn fully to her, ignoring the jot of attraction that hits me when our hands brush ever so slightly, “I’m willing to go to someone else. A marriage therapist.”
Her eyebrow twitches.
I press on. “A real one. Someone with an office and degrees on their wall.”
“Really?” Her arms fold over her chest.
I jerk my chin down. “Look, I don’t want to do this, but if that’s the only way we’re going to solve what’s wrong then…” My shoulders hike to my ears. “Let’s do it.”
Brown eyes fix on me, studying me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. I lean back when Harriet starts walking toward me. One step. Two. And then she’s practically on top of my body.
My heart thuds, beating so fast and loud I’m sure she can hear it. “You could go to another marriage therapist…”
“Good because going to Doc is—”
“But for this relationship,” her eyes harden right along with her voice, “you go to Doc or I’m done.”
My eyes bug. “Harriet.”
“I trust no one else but Doc.” She steps back. Arms over her chest. Lips pressing tightly together. Hips cocked at an angle.
Big breaths, Jerrison. She’s intentionally trying to get under my skin. Finding new ways to provoke me.
I’m not going to sink to her level.
I’m not going to be that petty.
My business depends on it.
“You said you wanted me to see someone. I told you I would.” My voice drops to a blistering whisper. “What the hell is the problem?”
“I made myself clear, Jerrison. There’s no need to discuss this further.”
“Of course there is.” I fall into step beside her, hissing past gritted teeth. “What does that man even know? He’s a mechanic for crying out loud!”
That long, dark ponytail keeps swinging as she stomps to the door. “Goodbye, Jerrison.”
“Harriet.” I scramble behind her. “Harriet, wait!”
Her steps don’t falter for a second.
It’s getting later now. More people are pulling up to the gym. They all stare at me as I run after my wife.
My cheeks go red.
Irritation and embarrassment mingle in my chest.
I slow my steps from a dogged pace to a gentle lope. A nervous grin flutters over my face. I hear the whispers from the crowd.
A man hollers to Harriet. “Ma’am, is he bothering you?”
My wife spins. The ponytail slaps me in the face.
I spit out the hair that licked my mouth and wince.
“Are you bothering me?” She arches an eyebrow.
I lean toward her. “We need to talk.”
“Talking time’s over, Jerrison.”
“Harriet.”
She prances to her car. Opens the door.
I keep an eye on the barrel-chested guy who’s still staring at us. Trying to keep her door open without looking like a crazed stalker, I growl, “Harriet, we are not finished. Don’t you dare drive away from me.”
She hauls the door closed.
I almost face-plant on the sidewalk.
The car engine purrs in the silence.
I call her name one more time. It falls to the ground, right along with my patience.
Harriet doesn’t look back as she drives away.
I pull my fingers into a fist and press it against my mouth to keep from exploding in public.
That did not go well.
A huff of exasperation billows my chest. I release it while rubbing my fingers against my temples. Fuentes doesn’t seem like he’s coming to the gym this morning. And talking to him was a long shot in the first place.
I was entertaining thoughts of getting through to Harriet and working this problem out my way, but that doesn’t seem like it’ll go well either.
Rather than linger around the gym, I drive to the one place I swore I’d never return to.
Doc’s Love Repair Shop.
I step into the caverns of the mechanic bay, surprised to see Doc already there and working. He’s dressed in oil-stained overalls that look like they’ve been through several washes and yet couldn’t get the grease out. His dark hands grip a wrench as he works on a car engine.
I stride right up to him. “Doc?”
“Morning.” He straightens. Arches an eyebrow. “Are you ready to start repairing what’s broken?”
Every bone in my body aches to rebel. To put him in his place. To inform him that I don’t need his help.
But I bypass those words.
“Look, I want to make one thing clear. The only reason I’m here is because I’m in a bad position. I need my wife and I need my job.”
Doc doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.
He takes everything in with that aggravatingly calm expression.
“I already lost my wife and now my company is at stake. In order to get them both back, I was told that I have to come and see you. That’s why I’m here.”
“I see.” Doc strokes his goatee and gives me a look that tells me he does see me. Even the parts of me I’d rather no one ever knew existed.
It annoys me. Makes me want to punch a car. Beat my chest. Demand his respect rather than earn it.
“What exactly do you see?” I press.
“That you didn’t come here because you want to change.” His voice is steady. Almost gravelly. “That you came as a matter of convenience.”
“As long as we’re clear.”
“I’m clear on exactly how far you need to go.” He turns. Plods to the truck he was working on. Picks up the wrench. Doc holds the tool out to me. “Here.”
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I snap.
“Hold it.” His lips quirk up in a shadow of a smirk. “And hand it to me when I ask you to.”
