The Score Page 7

  Tatum used the time to force herself to relax and submerged herself in her surroundings. She smiled as people walked past and watched excited children pull their parents to different locations.

  Sighing, she strolled past a couple of booths. Seth was taking longer than she’d expected, but if he really cared, he’d find her.

  Tatum stopped. There was a black and gold banner tacked on the front of a booth on the far right promoting Seth’s newest nightclub restaurant. Tatum waited until the small group of people walked away. Then, she approached Ralph.

  “Hey stranger,” she said, exited to see him. Her reaction wasn’t anything romantic. She was just happy to see someone familiar.

  Ralph glanced around. “Hey sis.”

  She pointed toward the banner. “What’s this about?”

  He gave her a bewildered look. “Carter didn’t tell you?”

  “No.” Now, Tatum began to question Seth’s explanation for why they were here. It wasn’t because one of his many black girlfriends had brought him here. He was shoving his club down black peoples’ throats.

  “I’m doing a little overtime.” Ralph shrugged, took the slips of paper people had written their information on, and dumped them with the others in a jar.

  “Was this Seth’s idea?” Tatum couldn’t do it. She couldn’t let the subject go. This was going to prove her family right. She didn’t want them to be right, but he’d obviously brought her here to make himself look good to the black community.

  “Actually, it was mine,” Ralph boasted. “I thought we could solve a couple of problems if we advertised here. Carter finally backed the idea.”

  Tatum was confused. “What problems?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I wouldn’t be asking if I did.” She tapped her fingers at the booth’s slim table.

  “Asking what?”

  Seth’s voice made Tatum jump. She turned around, her sudden guilt causing her to act overly excited to see him.

  Tatum kissed him. “What took you so long?”

  He studied her for a moment before turning his attention to Ralph. Tatum grabbed his hand so she could pull him away. “Are you ready?”

  Ralph quickly extended his hand. “What’s up, boss?”

  Seth shook it and gave a backwards nod to indicate the milling crowd. “How are things going?”

  “Actually, pretty good,” Ralph commented before attending to a couple that approached.

  Seth gently pushed Tatum away from the booth. Her guilty feeling still hadn’t subsided. She preferred the feeling of dread. It didn’t make her act foolish. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a booth here?”

  “It wasn’t important.” Seth shrugged. “Ralph approached me with an idea. He thought we could drum up some business if we gave away some free stuff.”

  Tatum thought it was a good idea, but she wished she’d known about it. “It looks fun. Why didn’t we just man the booth instead of Ralph?”

  “I don’t like mixing business with pleasure unless I have to.”

  She stopped and he turned to face her. She didn’t understand his pouting expression. “Yeah right, you’re probably just scared I’d steal some business secrets.”

  He shook his head.

  They began walking again. The silence was getting on her nerves. Tatum had to say something.

  “It would be nice to know a little about the business.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t want the women I date to be involved in day-to-day operations.”

  “Why not? I think it would be cool to have your partner there every day.”

  “Would you like it if your boyfriend or husband helped you out every day at the law office?” His tone sounded harsh.

  Tatum saw his point. During college, she’d loved the idea of marrying the lawyer she worked for because it seemed romantic. But after her first job, she started to change her mind. Her current job totally changed any notion of working with the same man with whom she slept. She dealt with Adam’s whining all day and couldn’t imagine hearing him whine about not finding his socks at night.

  However, she couldn’t let it go. A lawyer was different than a business partner. “So you don’t want the woman you’re involved to know anything about the business?”

  He shook his head defiantly.

  There was a pause in their conversation. “We could at least relieve Ralph for a couple of hours,” she suggested. Tatum was aware she sounded like a spoiled brat trying to obtain her goal.

  “No. He’s getting paid to be there. Let him work.”

  They traveled up the hill to the huge Seasonsgood Pavilion music stage with the half dome. Green benches surrounded the stage in long rows set among the tall trees. They walked up the cement steps until they found an area they liked. Seth sat beside her. Tatum automatically scooted away from him. She watched the children race up the grassy hill to the right and tumble to the bottom.

  Seth leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Why’d you do that?”

  Tatum scooted further away from him. She surveyed the area for any family, and then she looked at him. Tatum knew what he was referring to. She couldn’t sit that close to him. Someone, specifically someone she was related to, might be watching them.

  She lied. “I’m leaving room for the Holy Ghost.”

  “Well, the Holy Ghost is out saving souls, so we can get a little closer.” Seth closed the gap.

  “You’re impossible,” she scoffed. Tatum positioned her body away from him. She regretted it as soon as she did so. Seth placed his arm around her and comfortably slouched down.

  They listened to an array of music from jazz to R&B. Tatum began enjoying herself. She was surprised when he joked about someone in the audience. She joined in. They commented on songs and people dancing in the aisle.

  Both joined everyone and clapped as a dark-skinned man in his seventies danced in front of the stage. He wore a bright green, blue and red plaid leisure suit and white hat. He danced as fast as he could.

  Tatum was actually disappointed when the festivities ended.

  Seth waited until they were in the car to approach the subject. “Would you like to join me at my place for dinner?”

  She was hungry, but she wondered if she was setting herself up for something she wasn’t ready for.

  “Live a little.”

  “Sure, why not. I’m not going to sleep with you though.”

  “I wasn’t expecting it,” he told her honestly and stuck the key in the ignition.

  Tatum was surprised when they didn’t take the long drive to his house. Seth traveled the short distance to an apartment building a couple of neighborhoods away from Walnut Hills.

  “I thought that was your house we were at the other night,” she said as they entered the enormous, two-level apartment. Her voice echoed throughout the quiet, trendy apartment.

  “I own this place. I purchased it in case I don’t want to take the long drive.” He threw his keys into a glass bowl on the table next to the door.

  She liked the apartment better than the house. Tatum noticed how he didn’t have a lot of furniture, which made the place look more masculine. He showed her the essential places like the bathroom, study and kitchen. The first floor resembled an enormous studio apartment where only the kitchen and staircase were separated by a wall.

  Tatum offered to help with dinner, but Seth declined. She forgot that, for a man, cooking dinner meant using the grill.

  Seth walked from the kitchen to the grill on the patio. When he returned, she joined him in the kitchen. Tatum tried to start a conversation with him, but her constant conversation seemed to break his concentration. So, he gave her a soda and guided her to the couch. Then he continued to attend to the grill.

  After dinner, they sat on the couch and talked about the day and much else. The longer they talked, the harder Tatum had to try to stay awake. The steak he’d grilled along with the salad and mashed potatoes were weighing her down.

  “I’m happy you enjoy
ed yourself,” he commented after taking a gulp of his beer.

  “Yeah, it was cool. Do you think you’ll get a lot of people interested in the club?”

  He didn’t answer. She tapped on the end table next to the couch and still didn’t understand his point of not mixing business with pleasure. “Sorry, I forgot. No business talk.”

  He smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Tatum stopped tapping. Her eyelids grew heavy.

  Seth sat his drink on the end table and reached for her glass. “Do you want a refill on your soda?”

  Tatum didn’t reply. She’d fallen asleep.

  Chapter 8

  Tatum didn’t want to stop dreaming. Seth was in her dreams. She’d wanted him to do things to her that would drive her wild, but the dreams were frustrating. He kept disappearing.

  She sat up frantically. The bed felt unfamiliar, firmer than her mattress. The sheets were cooler and the fabric softer. The birds weren’t chirping as usual, and cars weren’t whizzing by either. This definitely wasn’t her room.

  Tatum searched her memory. She remembered the Juneteenth celebration, the dinner…

  Tatum gasped, horrified. She glanced at her attire. She was dressed in a gray t-shirt with a university logo on it. She could feel was wearing her underwear and bra, but she peeked under the shirt anyway, not positive about much of anything anymore.

  Did Seth drug her? Did he have sex with her? Did she pursue him? Questions raced through her mind like a runaway train. Fear leapt in her heart. Tatum couldn’t remember a thing. Her mind was blank. Maybe Seth was some kind of monster. The more she thought about last night, the more frustrated she became. She couldn’t remember anything except listening to him one minute and dreaming the next.

  There was a knock on the door, causing her to jump.

  “May I come in?” Seth sounded cheerful. She couldn’t decide if he was a threat.

  Her voice was unsure. “Yes.”

  “I come bearing gifts.” Seth slowly entered holding a tray of food. He smelled like he’d just gotten out of the shower. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that showed off his muscles.

  Tatum gave him a leery stare. She didn’t want to ask him about last night now that she was beginning to think her memory loss had been caused by some traumatic event, or perhaps he slipped something into her food or drink.

  Seth must have noticed the look of confusion and fear on her face.

  “You fell asleep on the couch,” he told her, voice gruff. “I tried to wake you several times so I could take you home. You told me to leave you alone, so I carried you up here.”

  “You took my clothes off.” She folded her arms protectively over her breasts.

  Seth sat the food in front of her. “We didn’t have sex and I didn’t see your…assets.”

  She ignored the food. “Yeah right, I believe you. You changed my clothes in the dark.”

  “I saw your bra and underwear.” Seth changed his answer.

  “Nothing else?”

  “Nope, I was the perfect gentleman.”

  Tatum stared at him for a long time before she decided to believe him. He stared back, still ready for battle, and she changed the subject. She finally looked at the food in front of her.

  Tatum expected breakfast, for it was early in the morning, or so she thought. She glanced at digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed and looked at the plate again. It wasn’t breakfast. It was chicken salad, macaroni and cheese, and a soda.

  “You said you didn’t like breakfast. I hope it’s alright.” Seth sounded nervous.

  She noticed the look on his face and wanted to reassure him. “I like it.”

  “You do?” He studied her.

  “Well, let me taste it first,” she joked.

  Seth sat on the bed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He glanced at her. “I can’t believe you fell asleep in the midst of my stunning conversation. I’m insulted.”

  Tatum couldn’t believe it either. That rarely happened unless she’d worked a double shift. Adam hadn’t had a heavy workload for her recently, so she didn’t know why she had been that exhausted. “Would you like some?”

  He shook his head, but his stomach betrayed him. Tatum laughed, scooped up a spoonful of macaroni and cheese and offered it to him. Seth didn’t open his mouth.

  “Eat,” she ordered. Tatum pushed toward his closed mouth.

  Seth moved his head away. “You’re bossy in the morning.”

  Tatum stuck her tongue out. “I think it’s called having a two-day date.”

  “Your clothes are in the utility room. If you want to wash all your clothes, I have some shorts you can wear.”

  “Thank you. I’ll do that.”

  Seth allowed her to feed him after stretching out on the other side of the bed. When they were finished eating, he left the room, then returned with the Sunday newspaper. She changed into the shorts he’d given her and washed her clothes. By the time Tatum returned, Seth was stretched out on the bed again reading the sports section. Tatum thought about going to the living room. It was the safe thing to do. She’d already fed him. What was she going to do now, lie in bed with him? She needed her therapist.

  “You can stand there if you want,” he told her after peeking over the newspaper, “but I’m warning you. You look sexy as hell in my clothes. I may not be able to control myself.”

  She hopped in bed, then warned, “Just don’t touch me. I know how your type is.”

  He didn’t reply. They commenced reading sections of the paper like they were an old married couple on a lazy Sunday morning. She wanted to change the channel on the flat screen television on the wall, but every time she reached for the remote, he remarked, still reading the paper, “I’m watching that.”

  “Are you finished with the Business section?”

  “Do you want it?” He didn’t look at her.

  “No. I want you to change the channel.” She pouted.

  Seth didn’t look up from the paper. “Then no.”

  “Are you trying to get back at me for something?”

  “Do you want me to do something to entertain you?” he asked dryly.

  Tatum impatiently tapped hard on the nightstand. She didn’t understand his sudden distant mood. “Is this what you do on Sunday mornings?”

  “Yep.”

  She hit the newspaper. “Even when girlfriends stay over?”

  He reached for a different section of the paper but didn’t respond.

  “Well?”

  “They never stay over.”

  Tatum sighed. She decided to mess with him. She felt like he was closing her out now and she didn’t understand. “They didn’t want to stay over or you—”

  He threw the paper toward the end of the bed. She was surprised to see this kind of frustration so soon. “What are you trying to accomplish here? Are you trying to push me away because you’re doing a good job.”

  Tatum acted innocent. “What are you talking about?”

  His blue eyes were like icicles. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “Fine, maybe I do.”

  He picked up a different section of the paper and began reading it. Tatum watched him. She wanted to punish him for not trying to take advantage of her. Maybe he didn’t find her attractive. Then again, he was white. He was supposed to want her for sex. It’s what her family always told her.

  Tatum decided to straddle him. He didn’t turn his attention to her right away, so she continuously tapped at the paper until it got on his nerves and he lost his temper. “What?”

  “Why didn’t you try to at least take advantage of me last night?”

  “I hate to burst your fantasy, but not all rich guys are looking for sex. I’m not going to rape you. When we make love, you’re going to be very willing.”

  Tatum didn’t know what to say. Was he saying she was undesirable? Her heart told her to stop putting roadblocks in the way. Her head told her to remember what they said,
what her family had told her all her life. She didn’t know which voice to listen to.

  She wasn’t interested in the conversation anymore. She didn’t care about his intentions. It was the last date. “You have to realize how confusing this is for me,” she said, her tone all hurt and bitterness.

  “You don’t think I understand? I do. I know it’s not easy to go against everything someone’s told you.”

  “Yeah, but you can only sympathize.”

  He pointed at her with his left index finger. “Don’t get on your soapbox until you’ve told me that you have looked in your parents’ eyes and crushed their dreams, until you tell me they wanted you to be the first one in the family to graduate from college, but you followed your heart. Do that, and then tell me how it feels when your father dies without speaking to you.”

  Tatum just stared at him. She didn’t know what to say and hoped he wasn’t telling the truth. Tatum didn’t know what was worse, a family divided by race or divided by dreams.

  “You’re serious?”

  “As serious as the heart attack my father had,” his tone softened.

  “He died after you told him?”

  “No. Two years ago. I expected my choice to blow over, but he didn’t budge.”

  “What about your mother?”

  Seth glanced away. “Let’s say we’ve improved our relationship. We send Christmas cards to each other.”

  Tatum caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Seth shrugged. “Sometimes your parents’ dreams aren’t your own.”

  She felt the need to share. “Sometimes I wish it was just that cut-and-dry for me. My parents—”

  “Your parents had class issues.”

  She shook her head. “My mother was wealthy and my father wasn’t. In fact, they met because my father applied at her father’s store. Well, uh, his family had a problem with their relationship and tried to break them up.” She skipped the hurtful stuff. “After my parents died and I had to live with my paternal grandmother, she called me names and wanted me to remember that just because Mom had money, that didn’t mean that I’d be treated better than anyone else.”