Fremont Street, tourists snapped pictures of everything and nothing and evening traffic moved at a snail’s pace.
Deciding against flagging down a taxi, he pulled up the collar on his suit jacket and stepped around a group of high-school students in ghoulish face masks. If not for their costumes, he would have forgotten it was Halloween. As he passed a row of cafés and convenience stores, he caught a glimpse of Tangela. Or rather, of her picture on a stack of People magazines. Was there no escaping this woman?
His eyes narrowed. How many more times would she intrude on his thoughts today? Last he’d heard, Tangela was living in Mexico studying Spanish, something she’d always wanted to do, but never did because she hated the thought of them being apart.
Warrick grunted. Funny, she’d professed her love with more conviction than a Keyshia Cole song, but didn’t have a problem sneaking out in the middle of the night in the car he’d bought her. No, she wasn’t the loving, devoted, fiancée she’d pretended to be. Tangela had been out for herself from day one, but he’d been too stupid to realize it.
Without thinking, he stopped at a convenience store, counted out the exact change and requested a bag for his purchase. He couldn’t risk someone seeing him with the magazine. They might think he was still carrying a torch for his ex. Or worse, that he wanted her back.
An hour later, behind the privacy of his office door, Warrick stared disbelievingly at one of the November issues of People magazine. He scarcely remembered what he’d eaten at the Third Street Grill or the ten-minute walk back to his office. But now that Payton and her posse had left for the day, he could read in peace.
Appraising the cover, he emitted a low, hollow sound from the back of his throat. Tangela Howard. The small-town girl with the big heart. Raised by a drug-addicted mother, she’d relocated to Las Vegas at seventeen and worked two full-time jobs to pay for university. A year after earning a degree in employment relations, she’d applied to American Airlines in hopes of working her way up from flight attendant to operations manager. Warrick admired the way she’d coped with all the misfortunes in life and had made it his job to give Tangela her heart's desire. His efforts had all been in vain.
Warrick held the magazine so close to his face he could see her clear nail polish. This was the first day since Tangela had walked out on him that he hadn’t woken up thinking about her, and as he searched inside for the cover story, he wondered how seven years of love, companionship and earth-shaking sex could have flatlined so quickly.
Shifting on his high-backed leather chair, he released a quick, inaudible sigh. Seeing Tangela again unnerved him. Made him think about things he had no business thinking about. Like how she used to kiss him the second he came through the door. Or how she’d gently caress his face when he was nestled deep inside her.
To keep from taking another trip down memory lane, he studied her picture intently, as if she was a stranger. And she was. This woman with the slender face, toned arms and lissome shape bore no resemblance to his ex-girlfriend. Her eyes were slightly tinted at the corners and had a hint of gray. Definitely contacts, he decided, continuing his appraisal. Gone were her short, springy curls. In their place a high ponytail that grazed her bare shoulders. The ruffled halter bikini made a strong statement: she was a bold, sexy woman who was thirsty for adventure.
Warrick flipped through the magazine and stopped when he saw another full-length picture of Tangela. A small, passport-size photograph was on the corner of the page. Above the snap was the word Before. Tangela was in her navy American Airlines uniform, smiling directly into the camera. Warrick recognized the photo. He’d taken it the night she’d aced her final exam. Almost two years to that day, she’d left him.
Feelings of nostalgia assailed him, but he refused to think about what they’d done on the kitchen counter that afternoon. Face pinched in concentration, he pored over the interview as if he was studying for the Nevada bar exam.
According to the article, Tangela had lost the weight through diet, exercise and nutritional supplements. Why? circled in and out of his mind. Why would she put herself on such a stringent diet? Warrick found the answer at the end of the first paragraph.
“I didn’t set out to lose a lot of weight, but when doctors diagnosed a blood clot in my right leg, a friend sat me down and told me to get my act together. I took his words to heart and that was the beginning of my transformation. Walking, exercising, eating well…Now I’m fit and healthy and ready to begin the next chapter of my life.”
His? The word was more painful than a slap shot between the eyes. And, as if it were a real-life blow, he needed time to gather his thoughts. Tangela had a boyfriend? It had only been two years since they—correction, she—had broken off their engagement. Not enough time for him to heal, but obviously enough time for her. He continued reading, his frown growing deeper with each fatuous sentence. Warrick snorted. Emotional eating is the driving force behind weight gain. “Who wrote this crap?” he wondered aloud. “There was nothing wrong with her!” He’d dated Tangela for seven years. If she’d had a food addiction he’d know. Fast food had always been her weakness, but everyone had their vice. He liked beer, she liked cheeseburgers and for others gambling, porn or alcohol did them in. Who was this People magazine reporter to judge?
Warrick was so engrossed in reading the article he didn’t notice his sister in the doorway until she cleared her throat. “Is this a bad time?”
Startled, he stared up at his sister. “Rachael, what brings you by?” he asked, sliding the magazine into his top drawer and coming around the desk. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“Do I need an excuse to visit my little brother?” She gave him a one-armed hug. “My Pilates class just finished and since the studio is only a few blocks over, I decided to swing by. What are you up to?”
Scratching his cheek, he shrugged with an affected air of boredom. “You know, this and that. Working hard to keep our clients happy. In fact, I was just reviewing contracts when you walked in.”
“Liar! You were checking out Tangela’s spread in People,” she announced, plopping down on the padded chair in front of his desk. “And you were slobbering all over yourself, too!”
Unzipping her leather handbag, she retrieved her copy of the magazine. Shaking her head, she gestured to the cover with her hands. “I still can’t believe it’s her! The last time I saw Tangela, she was a mess. Wailing, crying, rambling about how much she loved you. It was awful. She was a pitiful sight back then, but now look at her.” Her voice was a mixture of awe and respect. “Tangela’s one bad-ass chick!”
“Why didn’t you tell me she was upset over the breakup?”
“Would it have made a difference? You didn’t want to marry her and there was no getting around that.” Abandoning the magazine, she wore a fond smile. “You’re a good man, Warrick, and one day you’re going to make some woman very happy. But Tangela’s not the one. You know it, I know it, and so does she.” Rachael softened the blow by saying, “Don’t look so glum, bro. The breakup was the best thing ever to happen to you. You said so yourself.”
Tongue-tied, he listened to his sister say he was too immature for a commitment as enormous as marriage. Warrick started to defend himself, but the words didn’t come. What could he say? Rachael was right. He wasn’t ready. And at thirty-one he didn’t have to be. He had his whole life ahead of him. Why would he want to ruin it by giving up his freedom? A ball and chain held as much appeal as taking a spin in the electric chair.
“I don’t mean to be harsh, but you get an A in business and an F in relationships. You’re just not the settle-down type and that’s
