A Seat at the Table

Philadelphia was under attack from Mother Nature, and she was making her anger known. Icy rain and sleet pelted the city like polished bullets striking glass and concrete with relentless precision. Odessa was second-guessing her decision to come to work. The day before a major holiday, and she was out battling the elements. Odessa sucked her teeth and awkwardly tugged at the zipper of her coat, trying to pull it higher. The damn umbrella was, honestly, just an ornament. It did nothing to protect her from the slanted rain pummeling her side. A low growl of annoyance escaped her. It wasn’t like she had a choice but to make the trek into the city. For whatever reason, none of her laptop programs would sync with her employer’s network. Normally, she’d pop into the office a few times a month to check in with her boss, sit in on meetings, and do whatever needed to be done while she was physically there. Today, of all days, when she had a small turkey to cook and sides to make, her computer decided to spaz out and dump a bunch of nonsense into the shared project folder. Now, she had to manually connect her computer to the network. And she still wasn’t done. The office was empty, and she just wanted to grab a bite and get back. The squall had come out of nowhere. She’d left her hometown of Jacksonville years ago to attend college in Philadelphia and had no close family nearby. Thanksgiving was supposed to be an intimate dinner with Preston, her boyfriend. Something she’d been looking forward to since Constance seemed to always be around lately. Odessa exhaled. With Constance, her best friend, around, they were more like a throuple than a couple. A thread of uneasiness rippled down her spine. Sometimes, she felt like the third wheel in her own relationship. She was being paranoid. Odessa dismissed the thought with a shake of her head. Yet here she stood on a sidewalk in a storm that would keep normal people off the streets. Yay her. A gust of wind whipped under her umbrella, snatching the handle from her damp grip. It spiraled upward, surfing a current like a dark bird before disappearing from view. Shit. Cupping her hand over her eyes, she searched for a place to ride out the squall. Like a beacon in the gray haze, a bright yellow neon sign in the shape of a coffee cup flashed across the street, catching her attention. Odessa stepped to the curb, glancing both ways before sprinting to the other side. Dirty water swirled around her feet, soaking her canvas shoes. Puddles splashed the hem of her slacks as she rushed toward the building. Please be open. Odessa sent up a silent prayer as she wrapped her palm around the smooth handle. Her hand slid off the cold, wet metal. She leaned forward to escape the rain pounding her back and gripped the slippery handle again, tighter, then yanked hard. The heavy door swung open, ripped from her grasp. A loud snap echoed through the narrow entrance as it slammed against the exterior wall. Warm air buffeted her body as she crossed the threshold. Odessa spun around, reached for the door, and snatched it closed. Scents of something sweet and freshly brewed coffee assailed her nostrils. She raised her head and looked around. A coffee shop. A uniquely cute one. Muted yellows and oranges colored the walls, and overstuffed chairs the color of rust formed seating groups around built-in booths. The colors shouldn’t have worked, but she found the combination… calming. Classic paintings complemented modern artwork decorating the walls, and nostalgic pieces like an old-fashioned telephone occupied sparse shelves. She slid her hands up and down her arms, trying to wipe off the water. “It must be a mess outside.” Odessa glanced around to find the barista offering her a hand towel. She met his gaze and offered a brief smile. Closing the distance between herself and the counter, she spoke. “That nor’easter finally hit, and it’s a bad one.” Odessa gratefully took the towel and patted at her clothing. “Thank you.” “No problem.” His deep, gentle voice was reassuring. This guy had a way about him that felt calm. She peered up at him. Taller than average, he was a good-looking man. A low fade with a hint of white at one temple. His skin was the color of hot chocolate, deep and rich. She couldn’t hold his gaze. His stare was probing, like he could read everything about her. This life, past life, and next life. He smiled, exposing even rows of white teeth. Sweet baby Jesus. His entire face changed from handsome to stunningly beautiful. She exhaled. Men really shouldn’t look this good. The silence between them stretched. It was unnerving. She swallowed. “How long have you been open? I don’t remember anyone mentioning a new coffee shop opening.” Another barista, who was wiping down the counter, glanced up. “We’ve been around forever.” He uttered in a gravelly tone. Another man, equally striking in a completely different way. Just as tall as the first guy, his paler skin held a hint of olive in its undertone. Sharp features and longer hair. The overhead lights caught something silver at the corner of his mouth. A lip ring. Oh, my damn. Odessa bit her bottom lip. Maybe it was the shop’s theme; sexy servers would bring in a crowd. “Hmm, Maybe, I’m sorry I missed your opening.” She felt an inexplicable urge to apologize to the guy. The first server chuckled. “It wouldn’t be the first time. It’s a select few that actually cross through our entrance.” “Oh well then I’m privileged.” She perked up and smiled. “Depends on how one looks at it.” The other guy muttered before moving toward the other end of the counter. The kind one sighed. “Evander is…” He hesitated. “Moody. What would you like to order?” Odessa stared up at the signboard. “Something hot, sweet and uncommon.” She answered flippantly. “I like the way you think.” He winked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out some damp bills. He shook his head. “You’re the first customer of the day. My treat.” He turned, grabbing a cup and moving through the slim space behind the counter. Her cell buzzed in her palm. In tandem, both men peered her way. She held up her phone and checked the screen. Preston’s number flashed. She slid her fingers across it to answer the call. “Hey. How is Seattle? What time is your flight arriving tonight?” She watched as the guys moved, like they had been working together for ages. “Dessa. Babe, that’s why I’m calling. Business may take a little longer than I expected. I won’t make it home in time. Probably not until the weekend, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise. It’s the weather. It’s bad out here. They are saying the snap won’t break for a few days. Airlines are canceling flights.” “Really?” She tried hard to keep the disappointment out of her tone. “Thanksgiving is tomorrow. You told me you would be here. I asked you about it. You promised when you left that you’d be back in time.” She couldn’t call back the whine seeping into her voice. “I know, I know, Dessa.” He cleared his throat. “But Dezzie, baby, what the hell do you want me to do about the weather?” he snapped, his voice low. “We can have dinner another day. Stop making a big deal about this.” She blinked and looked around, checking if anyone else had heard his response. Odessa sucked in a breath at her foolishness. Who else would hear their phone call? There was a thread of something in his voice she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Resignation, but also… pity? Or was it annoyance? Odessa shook off the uncomfortable slither of unease sliding along her spine. A cup filled to the rim with brown sugar-colored froth was set on the counter in front of her. She lifted her head to peer at the barista. He nodded toward the cup. “I believe you will appreciate this later.” He slid the drink closer to her. “It’s called The Velvet Reckoning.” The name sent her lips curling up at the ends. “Oh, okay. Thank you.” Whispering, she mouthed the words, picked up the warm cup, and searched for a discreet table. “I missed that, Preston. What did you say?” A long breath came through her earpiece. “Pay attention when I’m talking to you, Dezzie. What are you doing?” Now, his tone held clear aggravation. “Hello?” One clipped word bled through the line. “Are you there? I said the weather is shit here. I’ll probably need to return because I couldn’t get much done.” She stared down at the screen, checking to make sure she was still on the same call with her man. The same guy she’d been with for a little over six years. “This is Preston I’m speaking with, right? Are you okay? What’s wrong with you? You knew what the weather could be like when you flew out three days before Thanksgiving.” He didn’t answer right away. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. She waited. It grew. Ambient noise filled the quiet. There was a feminine voice in the background. Another muffled sound. Odessa set the cup down on a bright orange square table beside a russet-colored velvet, overstuffed chair in a corner and claimed the seat. “Baby, I’m stress—” Preston started. She changed the subject. “Have you heard from Constance? She said she was spending Thanksgiving with her family in Chicago, but I haven’t heard from her.” Idle conversation. Odessa wasn’t sure if she even cared. Constance was her best friend. They’d been close for almost ten years, longer than she’d known Preston. She’d been there when Odessa met Preston and helped them move into their first apartment together. Thinking about it, Constance had been a part of many of their firsts. Odessa sank into the chair and pressed her lips together. Preston pivoted to the new topic. His voice softened. “Constance is fine. You know how she is.” “Yeah, lately though, I feel like she’s avoiding me.” “Why would she do that? You’re not making sense. You’ve been best friends since college. Stop creating situations where there aren’t any.” His exhale was loud. “You always do that.” “Do what?” Odessa sighed. Something was wrong. She and Preston seemed to go from good to bad to worse in a matter of minutes lately. That’s why she wanted to have an intimate dinner with him. Try to hash out whatever was happening between them. It was actually a relief that Connie planned to spend the holiday with her family. She didn’t want her best friend around to interfere in what she and Preston needed to talk about. And that was happening a lot. Connie was always defending him and spending more time with her man than she was. How many times had Odessa called to discuss something with Preston, only for him to casually mention that he’d run into Constance? “Nothing. Maybe she got a new man or something.” “You would know sooner than I would,” Odessa commented dryly. Never one to interfere in anybody’s anything, she’d wait until Constance returned to Philly to have a talk with her friend. Things were happening around her, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on exactly what was happening. Another uncomfortable feeling tightened her chest. Was the stress inducing a panic attack? A chime sounded through the space. Odessa lifted her head, searching for the source. A couple walked into the shop. Odessa’s eyes narrowed as she watched Preston walk up to the counter, his phone to his ear and his other arm wrapped around Constance’s waist. He lowered the cell. Odessa listened to the scrape of material as she watched him press it to his chest. He brushed his lips against Connie’s temple. “Order for us while I get rid of Dezzie.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he may as well have been screaming. Odessa sat upright in her seat. Watching. Constance nodded, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Don’t take too long. You know that bitch will try to keep you on the phone forever.” “I know, baby,” Preston whispered. “Don’t worry.” He urged Connie forward. Odessa shot to her feet. Waiting. Preston raised the cell to his ear. “We’ll talk when I get back, Dezzie. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll bring you back something nice from Seattle.” Like a lodestone squeezing her heart, pain seared through her chest. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She bit her lip. There was no way in hell she would cry. “There is nothing I want from you, Preston.” Odessa raised her arm and called out, “Wow! funny finding you two here! No wonder the weather is bad!” Preston’s head jerked up as Constance whirled around. Time stretched as Odessa’s gaze darted between the two people she trusted most in her life. From somewhere behind the counter, someone commented, “And there it is. Cyrus, where the hell is the popcorn?” Preston took a step forward. Constance pushed past him, crossing the room to stand in front of Odessa. “Why the hell are you here?” Constance’s usually pretty face contorted into something ugly, her brows drawn together and the corners of her mouth twisted into a smirk. “I told Preston you didn’t trust him, but I didn’t think you were so desperate as to follow him to Seattle.” Odessa snapped her head in Constance’s direction. “Seattle? Bitch, I get you want me to be crazy, but it’s obvious you two never left Philly.” Preston stepped up beside Connie, confusion clear on their faces. Connie’s throat worked, but no words escaped her lips. “I knew something was wrong, but this? And you have the nerve to keep calling me out my name?” Odessa cocked her head. Her hand curled tightly around her cell as she dropped her arm. She looked around, her gaze touching on everything except the two of them. Ambient sounds filled her head. The heater cycling on. A clink of glasses. The hiss of an espresso machine. Her gaze returned to the people before her, and a deep sense of calm wrapped her in a thick cocoon. This bullshit wasn’t her burden. “Dezzie,” Preston started. “Dessa.” “Preston doesn’t want you. You couldn’t take the hints, so you followed us out here? Why won’t you let my man go?” “Whoa, wait… what?” Odessa focused on Preston. “Let’s ask Mr. Bastard, here.” She angled her head in his direction. “When did you ever tell me you wanted to be free? I am always home. When did you ever say, ‘Let’s talk’?” She sucked in a deep breath and deliberately sat. Slowly, she crossed one leg over her knee and set her cell on the table before wrapping her hand around the coffee mug. “Take your time to answer. I got all day.” She took a sip of the sweet concoction in her cup and set it down. For a moment, there was panic in his eyes. Then, it was gone. “Dezzie, don’t do this. Don’t make it sound like I haven’t tried to talk about our relationship. I told you before I left we needed to talk, and you made me promise to come back for Thanksgiving so we could settle things. I didn’t realize you loved me so much you would follow me instead of letting me go.” Preston rushed through the words. He reached out to touch her face. She slapped his hand away. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.” He was turning their conversation around and making himself the victim. Why hadn’t she seen this side of him before? She was the one who said they needed to talk. He was the one who promised to come back and spend more time with her, stressing that they had years together they couldn’t throw away. Constance cuddled in beside Preston, wrapping her arm snugly around his waist. “It’s good she’s here.” She peered down her nose at Odessa. “Since you can’t stop the clinginess, let’s clear some things up.” “Hmm, is someone worried Preston won’t stay put?” Odessa snorted. “Okay. Tell me.” Odessa intertwined her fingers over her knee. “I’m listening.” Her tone was level and quiet. The couple appeared unsettled. Like whatever they were expecting from this confrontation… it wasn’t what they were getting. Odessa rested her head against the back of the chair and snorted. “Cat got your tongue? I’ll start.” She paused, ignoring the heaviness that locked her in place. No matter her feelings, these two would never know how deeply the blade of their betrayal cut her. In the time it took to order a cup of coffee, she was ending a long-term relationship and a decade-old friendship. She shook off the melancholy threatening to overshadow her. Was she really, though? “Your shit will be packed and waiting for you. All you have to do is collect it.” Odessa directed her words at Preston. “No,” Constance sneered. “You should be the one to leave. Preston pays for everything. Your greedy ass needs to go. He has taken care of you long enough.” “Is that what he told you?” Odessa slowly turned her head to watch the microexpressions cross Connie’s face like a movie. For the first time since this bullshit farce started, Odessa felt the squeeze around her heart lighten. Laughter burst from her lips. These idiots deserved each other. Her income was higher, so she paid most of the bills, including the rent. They shared a household bank account, but his paycheck as an account rep for a major warehouse supplier depended on bonuses. Additional income he didn’t always earn. She was the one who held them down. “Like I said,” she resumed quietly. “Your shit will be at the door. Since you never left, it shouldn’t take you long to come and collect it.” She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling at the idiocy of the situation. They gave each other strange looks. Constance started. “What are you tal--” More chimes rang through the space. Louder than before, a barista commented, “Evander, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” “Ye-ah.” There was a moment of silence. “You think the shop made a detour?” “I don’t know, but there is a giant standing in our doorway.” “Damn, Cyrus, they never tip.” The server sighed. Surprised by the conversation happening beyond them, Odessa turned her attention back to Preston. His eyes were reptilian cold. He studied her like he was measuring his options and coming up short. Preston inched closer. “Why do you have to be like this?” There was a low growl in his tone. “Everything was perfectly fine until you got jealous. You realize it’s creepy as fuck that you would follow me.” He bent, reaching a hand toward her. “Dušo?” someone called out in a deep, melodic voice. Silence. Preston tapped Odessa’s forehead with his knuckle. “Stop creating drama where there is none. Why did you do this? I told you I’d come back.” Long, pale fingers wrapped around Preston’s wrist, and he was yanked upright. His hand was bent back at an awkward angle. There was the slightest snap. A roar shattered the quiet. “You touched my wife. You obviously don’t want your life.” Odessa lifted her head to find an impossibly tall, athletically built man gripping Preston’s wrist. A lock of deep sable hair hung over one eye. His jaw was covered with a close-cropped beard, and a mustache curled around his mouth, a shade darker than his hair. The stranger flicked his gaze toward Odessa. “Are you alright, dušo?” he asked in a thickly accented voice. He released Preston’s arm and cupped her jaw in his palm, his clear amber eyes searching her face. She brushed his hand away. “What did you call me?” Connie’s head swiveled between them. “What the hell is going on?” She waved a finger between them. “Why did you bring a man with you? Who the hell is he?” She stepped beside Preston, who was cradling his hand. “Why would you hurt him?” she yelled. “Bring me where? I haven’t left Jacksonville.” The stranger’s tone was disturbingly quiet. His gaze never left Odessa’s face. “Dušo, I don’t understand. Where do you find these strays? They follow you like you’re a pied piper. I keep telling you. Not everyone deserves a seat at your table.” There was a thread of confused exasperation in his voice. She stared up at the man who stood a head and shoulders taller than Preston, who was already six foot one. His suit jacket clung to his shoulders as though tailored for his body. Strands of hair that had escaped a messy ponytail brushed his collar. His dress shirt was open at the throat, exposing a length of smooth skin. The sleeves tightened around his biceps as he crossed his arms. Mouthwatering. The word flitted through her mind. Odessa ignored Preston’s crying and Constance’s shrieking. She pointed an index finger at herself. “Who am I?” She really couldn’t make this up. The whole situation was getting stranger and stranger. “And where did you say you are?” She was firmly in Philly, and there was a storm raging outside. Subconsciously, she glanced out the picture window to verify it. Fat raindrops slammed into the glass and formed rivulets down the massive pane. The guy who claimed to be her husband followed the direction of her gaze and shook his head. “Odessa Vukadinović. Are we playing one of your catch-me-if-you-can intimate games?” His voice dropped to an intimate growl. One side of his mouth inched up. “The kids are with your mama, so we have a little time, dušo.” “Kids!” Odessa, Preston, and Constance repeated in unison. Odessa opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “And you are? Whoa, what did you call me?” The sexy giant studied her, his expression shifting before his eyes narrowed. “I am Luka Vukadinović. And you are my wife.” “When the fuck did you get married?” Preston’s eyes widened as he screeched. “I don’t understand,” Constance whispered. Odessa ignored them. “We play games?” Luka’s smirk bloomed into a full-blown smile, turning his face from handsome to devastatingly attractive. “Ah, dušo, your games are quite entertaining.” He tapped the tip of her nose with a bent finger. “I don’t know what is going on, but this bullshit ends now!” Preston yelled. He reached for Odessa with his uninjured hand, grabbing her wrist and snatching her forward. “You are coming with me to the hospital.” She stumbled forward, landing on her knees. Odessa looked up. Satisfaction gleamed on Constance’s face, while Preston looked aggrieved. But Luka, the stranger who claimed to be her husband, looked thunderous. Luka clutched Preston by the throat. His long fingers covered Preston’s Adam’s apple as he lifted him, the toes of his shoes scraping the wood floor. Preston released Odessa’s wrist as he was yanked away. Luka spun around and slammed Preston into the wall hard enough to rattle the framed art. Preston grunted. He crumpled to the floor. Constance shoved between them to crouch at his side. “Hey, giant, you break it, you buy it,” one barista called out. “Some of those pieces are priceless,” the other added. Luka flicked his wrist. “Send me the bill,” he barked. He peered down. “Listen, little man. My wife is my bottom line, and you obviously don’t understand boundaries. “You’ve got until I count to five. Go.” He flicked two fingers between them. “Or I promise, you will forever be on someone’s missing person flyer.” He sighed and turned back to Odessa. “Dušo, they are killing our vibe,” he whined. “Are they?” She chuckled softly and winced. Pain radiated up her arm, and she rubbed the spot where Preston had grabbed her. She’d obviously stepped into something she wasn’t ready for, but she would go with it. It just didn’t seem wise to piss off a huge, clearly foreign man who believed they were married… with kids. Luka flipped his wrist and glanced at his watch. Preston grumbled. “Connie, baby, I really think I need to go to the hospital.” A sharp burst of giggles escaped Odessa’s lips. It was the absurdity of it all. Luka crouched, cupping her elbows with both hands to help her into the chair. Constance helped Preston up. Draped against Connie’s side, Preston turned a venomous gaze toward her. “You will regret this, Dezzie.” “That would require that I care, Preston.” She didn’t bother to hide the weariness in her tone. She couldn’t honestly say that his, no, their cheating didn’t hurt. After all, one was her boyfriend, and the other her best friend. But the pain itself wasn’t unbearable. There were still real issues she needed to deal with, but right then, they weren’t going away. Odessa turned her gaze to Luka. “Tell me. Luka, right? Where are you from?” His crooked smile widened. “Serbia. Is this going to be one of our ‘we just met’ pickup dates?” He winked. “Oh, okay. Yeah, let’s go with that.” She nodded. “And how long have we been married?” She picked up her cup and took a sip of the cooled beverage. “Dušo, we have two children and have known each other for ten years. We’ve been married nine years and we live in Jacksonville, Florida, and we met six months after you moved from…” He paused. “A city up north in Pennsylvania. Philadelphia. You don’t talk about it much.” He rattled off the information. Luka peered over his shoulder and muttered, “Perhaps, now I understand why.” He dipped, curling his fingers around the arms of her chair to cage her in. Peering into her eyes, he continued. “We are extremely happy in all aspects of our relationship.” She choked, coughing as the drink went down the wrong pipe. He leaned forward, rubbing a soothing hand down her back. He pressed his cheek to hers. “Can we go home now? I can think of so many other things we could be doing.” Luka straightened and offered his hand. Odessa glanced at the baristas, working quietly behind the counter. She took in everything about the strange little coffee shop. “Luka, I’ll meet you at the car. I want to grab the kids some cakes.” “Don’t take too long, dušo.” He nodded before turning to leave. At the exit, he stared at her for a heartbeat before leaving. She watched him go and sighed. Such a strange encounter. She scratched her temple. Pulling all the bills out of her pocket, she set the money on the table under her cup. “I’m leaving this tip for the giant, so you can’t say he doesn’t tip,” she called out. The server with the lip ring nodded curtly. She followed Luka’s path between the chairs toward the exit. Odessa pushed the door open to a steady rain. The storm had lulled, but the streets were still empty, and the sky was still gray. She lifted her cell and tapped the screen before easing the device against her ear. “Hey, baby.” Her mother’s clear, upbeat tone flowed through the connection. “Happy Thanksgiving.” “Hi, Mom. I want to come home,” she blurted, blinking back tears. Even if most of what they had was hers, it would be better if she left. Preston might be… unpredictable. If what she thought happened really happened… “Baby, you can always come home.” There was a thread of concern in her mom’s voice. “You never have to stay anywhere you don’t want to be.” Her chest grew heavy. The idea that this man she’d loved for years could… Odessa sucked in a deep breath. “Mom.” It was the only word she could get out. “Come home, baby. I will… no, your daddy and I will be right here waiting.” She couldn’t be sure when Preston would return to the apartment, but she needed to have all her things out, including herself, before he came back. Everything else could be worked out later. She would go home. “I’m booking you a flight right now.” Her mom’s words interrupted her thoughts. “It’s a holiday tomorrow. That’s expen—” “I don’t care about the cost. My daughter is coming home!” “Yes, ma’am.” Packing and getting to the airport would be her only concern for now. She brushed her fingers against her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “It’s done. Check your email.” “Thank you, mama.” She glanced over her shoulder and peered through the dust-streaked glass. The storefront was empty. Had she been standing there all along, using the little alcove as shelter from the rain?