A Hire Love. Candice Dow

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СКАЧАТЬ Do I look like I have time to date?

      “You have to make time. I’m dying watching you battle this world alone.”

      Ah! I think you already died. It’s a great thing that everyone in New York is crazy, because no one questioned my conversation with the sky. I rushed into Starbucks and ordered my medication. As I stood there waiting for it, Derrick made sense.

      When the caffeine circulated through my blood, I woke up. Why am I acting like I’m dead, too? I am young and vibrant. How long am I expected to be the mourning widow? You’re right, Derrick. It is time.

      It was as if all I ever wanted was his permission, because I was suddenly eager to get on the dating scene. I rushed out and hailed a taxi. Again, I told him where I was going. He nodded. I asked, “How much?”

      “Fifteen.”

      I nodded and rested my head on the cracked leather seat. I called my home girl, Mya. As the phone rang, I giggled about how Derrick used to call us C1 and C2. That stood for Country One and Two. She grew up in Mississippi and I’m an Alabama girl and we met first day of freshman year at NYU. We took pride in our country nicknames. Guess that’s the Southern happy side of us, but over the years we’ve become more Northern than Southern. She answered, “Hey, Tima. What’s up, lady?”

      “Hey, C2.”

      “Haven’t heard that one in awhile. What’s going on? I tried calling you last night.”

      “I was reading.”

      “The story of your life.”

      “Pretty much. Anyway, girl, I had that dream that Derrick is still alive. You know the one where he comes to the funeral…”

      Although I don’t believe it was intentional, she sighed impatiently and confirmed that she recalled which one. Her familiar snicker told me her thoughts. She thought I was insane. Considering the circumstances, I do damn good. Imagine marrying the man of your dreams at the age of twenty-two and he ups and kicks the bucket by the time you’re twenty-five.

      “Well, why did my alarm clock come on and his favorite song was playing? I mean I just felt his presence.”

      “Really?”

      “I feel like he wanted to tell me that I’m free to date again.”

      She laughed. “Again? You’ve never dated. He is the only person you ever dated.”

      “I did date.”

      “Who?”

      “Remember freshman year, I went out with…” I paused. “Um…”

      “No! I remember you interning at Vibe magazine freshman year and becoming Derrick Mayo’s assistant.” She chuckled again. “And he scooped your young, tender, country butt up.”

      “I didn’t get that internship until May. What was I doing before then?”

      “Being a nerd.”

      “All right. Whatever. I think I want to start dating.”

      “Tima, are you sure?”

      “Yes, I’m sure.”

      Apprehension rumbled in her sigh. “Tima?”

      “Mya?”

      Time had ticked away so rapidly. It took almost two years to get over the shock. He drove me to work. I kissed him good-bye. He said, “Kiss me again, Fatty.” I kissed him again and he asked, “Do you love me?”

      Though he should have always been stressed, it was never evident in his face. But that morning, his forehead was wrinkled. Dark rings formed shadows under his eyes. There was a cloud over him as I voluntarily leaned in for another kiss. “Of course I love you, honey.”

      “See you at seven.”

      “Where are we eating?” I laughed. He’d worried me all night about going to get ice cream. I said, “Ben and Jerry’s?”

      He chuckled. “We’ll hit BJs after dinner. I’ll call you after lunch.”

      I hopped out of the car and that was our last exchange, our last words. The phone call that came wasn’t from him, but his secretary. He was rushed to the hospital and pronounced DOA. For two years, I waited for the punchline. This last year, I’ve just been trying to stay afloat. It wasn’t until he mentioned it this morning that I internalized my loneliness. I swore if Derrick wasn’t reincarnated, I would be single forever. Hey, some things are easier said than done.

      As my mind reminisced on our last encounter, the phone sat glued to my ear and the taxi driver asked, “Left side or right?”

      I sputtered, “Right.”

      Mya was still on the other end, explaining why she thought I wasn’t prepared for the dating game. “Mya, maybe you’re not ready for me to date?”

      “I guess. It’s just a dog-eat-dog world out here. I don’t want you to have to deal with that. See, I know what’s out here. I think you’ll be shell-shocked.”

      “Whatever. Maybe we can go for a drink later and discuss the pros and cons. I have to go. I’m at work now. What’s your day like?”

      “I have a casting at one. Depending on how many good actors come out will determine how long my day will be. I’ll call you and let you know.”

      I sighed. “Oh the life of a casting director.”

      “Tell me about it.”

      Shortly before one, Mya called. Surprisingly, her first question was, “Are you sure about this dating thing?”

      “Yes.”

      “Okay, if you’re really serious. I guess I should do my part to help you out.”

      “Yes.”

      She suggested I use a dating service. My lips curled. “Girl, please. Only desperate people use services like that.”

      She laughed. “See what I mean? You don’t know anything about dating. Remember, that romance stuff you edit is fiction. Real people are on the Internet, using services, and anything that works.”

      “Whatever? I know some people use those services, but not me.”

      As she rushed off the phone, she did her best to convince me why I needed to go to an upscale dating service. “Although it’s just a date, he needs to be handpicked.” She snickered. “Okay, so I made you an appointment with the Black Love Agency.”

      My nose wrinkled. “That sounds like a porno agency.”

      “See, you are so outdated.” She paused. “Now, would I send you to some sketchy place?”

      “I guess not. When is the appointment?”

      “This СКАЧАТЬ