"Jay, you know I don't drink liquor. You know what it does to..."
He interrupted, "that's why I gave it to you. I have never seen you so upset. You really scared me."
Moving closer to her, he put out his hand to help her off the settee. Glancing deeply into his eyes, she turned as a tinge of emotion welled up again. He leaned in and pushed her wet bangs out of her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. His grip on her shoulder electrified her and firm enough that she knew he was serious. "Come on, I'll get you into a cab. I informed your assistant that you were not feeing well and going on; she will make your apologies for an abrupt departure."
No!! she could feel herself screaming loudly, but only she could hear. Feeling her world crumble around her, she wanted to frantically grasp all the pieces and somehow hold them together.
As she stood up, she could feel the effects of the brandy. Coupled with the glass of champagne she had at the ribbon cutting, Deandra knew she would be asleep before long. As Jarvis led her out the side door of the minister's office toward a waiting taxi, she contemplated each move, each word to maneuver him out of her way.
He opened the door for her and was holding her hand to steady her inside; she resisted.
"Lemme put my stuff in first," she drawled slowly.
He complied and handed her her bags and purse. She slid them into the seat and turned to face him fully. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and in the distance behind the skyline, she could see flashes of lightening. "I miss West Texas sometimes," she sighed.
Jarvis tried to help her into the cab, smiling at her but impatience growing.
She pushed into him and kissed him. It created the desired effect, so Deandra had the opportunity to climb into the cab quickly while Jarvis recovered from shock. Closing the door, she lowered the window.
"I am sorry, too. Thanks for everything; I appreciate you calling me a cab."
"Deandra, wait! Please permit me to see you home." He tried to open the door, but she had locked it. He could see her mumbling to the driver as the window was raised. "De!!!"
The cab pulled from the curb and into the street leaving Jarvis Williams standing in the drizzle confused and angry.
"Radisson Warwick, 17th street," she said before she slouched into the seat and allowed the tears to overtake her. Deandra Shelby had worked very hard to control her emotions, to push them out of reach, but the events of the afternoon were too much. The first few months she lived in Pennsylvania, Deandra could barely go anywhere without thinking about Jay and all the pain she felt. Taking the job with the Philadephia Historical Commission was a risky move for her, but so was turning down the job just because she had some painful memories of her time with Jay.
As the cab rolled down Lombard Street, Deandra watched the sights she knew so well and struggled to compose herself.
Your thoughts only, she thought. Remember your time here.
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