For the Sake of Love (8 page)

Bria and Nya met at The Spa Factory early Monday morning. They were still on an emotional high that the doors were officially open to the public. Nya loved herself some Bruno Mars and had turned Bria on to the artist. They popped his CD in the player. Nya fixed a fresh pot of chai tea and displayed the fruit trays and Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

In Bria's office, she noticed the business card Kerryngton had given her sitting on her desk. She picked it up and read aloud, “CEO/President, Up and Up Records.” According to his card, he worked as a record label executive.
Great!
she thought.
Another person in the music industry.
That was the last thing she wanted or needed. She was tempted to toss his card in the trash, but the image of his radiant smile popped in her head.

She hadn't heard a word from Spade, and her heart broke a little more every day. She wanted to believe in Spade and wasn't ready to move on. She wasn't sure she could ever really move on. She wondered if Spade was even thinking about her.

Nya entered and startled her. Bria stuffed the card inside her desk drawer. She didn't want Nya to see the card and start making a bigger deal out of it than it really was. She knew Nya well enough to know that she'd want every detail of her brief encounter with Kerryngton.

Nya told her that the tea was ready, so they each poured themselves a cup and grabbed one glazed doughnut apiece.

“How're you feeling?” Nya said.

“I've been trying to stay busy and keep my mind off Spade, but it's hard. It's especially frustrating, knowing that he's going through something, and he doesn't feel he can share it with me.”

“This is one of those ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus' situations. Spade has a problem, and rather than talk about it, he goes into a cave, figuratively speaking, of course.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” She licked glaze off her lips.

“Wait and not pressure him. When he's ready to talk, he will. If you try to force it out of him, he'll just go deeper into the cave and take longer to come out.”

“When did you become a relationship expert?”

“Girl, marriage is a full-time job. According to the books I've read, you should treat your relationship like a plant. Don't wait until it's withered and dying before watering it.”

They laughed. Members of the staff started coming in and interrupting them. Bria told them to help themselves to the refreshments.

For the next few hours, Bria worked nonstop. She and Nya took an hour and a half lunch break and came right back to work. Bria was typing on her laptop when the intercom sounded. It was Dani, asking if she could speak with her. Dani entered the office and stood in front of Bria's desk.

Pushing her glasses farther back on her nose, Dani said, “A guy named Kerryngton Kruse called. He wants you to call him.” Dani handed her a pink slip of paper. “I asked if anyone else could help him, and he said it was personal.”

“Oh. How did I miss his call?” she wondered out loud.

“He called when you and Nya went out to lunch.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Bria looked at the paper, then back at Dani wondering why Dani was still standing there. “Please be sure to patch him through the next time he calls.”

Dani agreed.

Bria could tell that Dani really wanted to probe deeper and find out what was going on, but when Bria refused to come up off any information, she went back to her workstation.

Bria was curious why Kerryngton had called her and a faint smile appeared across her face. She removed his card from the drawer and studied it again. She considered calling him back but changed her mind. What would she say? Then she placed it in her purse and decided to wait until he called back before speaking with him.
If it's important, he'll call again,
she thought.

A few hours later, Dani's voice flowed through the intercom speaker on Bria's desk. “Kerryngton Kruse is on the line.”

“Patch him through please.”

Bria took a swig from the bottled water on her desk before answering Kerryngton's waiting call.

“The grand opening was really nice,” he said. “Congratulations.” His voice sounded nice with just the right amount of bass. She could listen to him all day.

“Thanks. I'm glad you came out.”

“For sure. I was just calling to see if you were okay, because I noticed a poignant sadness in your eyes, and you're way too beautiful a woman to have eyes so sad.”

“Oh.” Bria didn't know quite how to respond to that. “I'm okay.”

“Glad to hear that. Well, I know you must be busy with a new business and all, so I won't keep you.”

“Thanks for checking on me. That was really nice of you.”

“My pleasure. I'll be in touch.”

After getting off the call, Bria missed Spade even more. He used to be the person who would call or come by just to check on her. With a single look he could tell if something was bothering her. Why couldn't she figure out what was bothering him?

 

 

It was a few days shy of a week since Spade had called off the wedding, and Bria had been left with the daunting task of notifying the wedding guests and vendors. When it came time for her to contact her wedding guests, she wrote out a brief script that read: “I was just calling to let you know that my wedding has been postponed. I'd rather not go into the particulars, but I'll keep you posted.” She needed that script to keep her on track and stop her from rambling or falling apart, because the earlier conversations went like this:

“Hey, Bria! You getting nervous about your wedding?”

“Well, uh, that's the reason for my call.” Pregnant pause. “We aren't getting married. At least not yet.”

“Oh, honey, no.” Sadness mixed with pity topped with disappointment. Then the uncomfortable, “You two were so in love. What happened?”

Fighting back tears, “I'd rather not go into that right now. Sorry. I'll talk to you later.”
Click.

She seriously appreciated voice mail so much that day. Nya had warned her that making those phone calls would be difficult—that was an understatement—and to let her do it on her behalf, but Bria insisted. She felt she should be the one to notify everyone. By making the phone calls herself she was sending the message that there was still a chance she and Spade could get back together.

However, she did agree to let Nya contact the vendors. Overall, her family and friends had been so understanding and supportive when she notified them of her changed wedding plans, but that didn't take away the sting. People would still call her back just to see how she was holding up.

She had her good days and her bad.

Spade had already started taking steps toward a healthier lifestyle. The first thing he changed was his diet. He started eating more organic and less processed foods. No more white foods—foods made from white flour or refined sugar—for him. And he replaced white rice with brown rice and white pasta with whole wheat pasta. He even enrolled in a yoga class. It helped Def Jam Founder/CEO Russell Simmons find his yen, he figured. Spade was determined to beat this cancer by focusing on his mind, body, and spirit.

He still worked hard, but not in a stressful way. Music became his release, his therapy.

A little over two weeks passed before Spade was able to see the oncologist. The oncologist sent him for blood work and a CT scan, both of which came back negative for any abnormalities. Spade thought that meant he didn't have cancer.

Rather than encouraging Spade, the oncologist discouraged him by insisting, “The previous lab work takes precedence over the lack of other evidence.”

“What?” Spade sounded shocked. “If the other tests didn't back up the original findings, isn't it possible that either the first test was wrong, or I don't have cancer?”

“You should seriously begin chemo right away. If not, you'll be dead by the end of the year.” The oncologist acted as though he hadn't heard anything Spade had said.

Hearing the oncologist say he'd be dead by the end of the year really pissed him off. Something just didn't seem right to Spade. He thought about what Mr. Murray had told him. “Look, you're not God. You can't say something like that to me. That's some bull—” He cut himself off and inhaled and exhaled loudly. “Is there a possibility that the original lab results could be wrong?” he challenged.

“No. Not a chance.”

There was no way Spade was going to accept this as an answer. If this oncologist wouldn't work with him, then he'd find another one who would.

“Are you ready to begin chemo?” the oncologist asked.

“No.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Spade wasn't feeling this guy at all. He had lost confidence in him and didn't like his attitude. “I want a second opinion,” he stated matter-of-factly.

The oncologist's face flushed, but Spade wasn't the least bit concerned about offending this guy.

“You can, but you're just wasting precious time. You should be getting treatment.”

Spade wanted to punch this cocky mofo in the face. This dude . . . All Spade could do was shake his head. Apparently this dude thought he was God with a big G. Well, somebody told him wrong.

In Spade's mind, this wasn't adding up. And before he started such an invasive treatment, he needed to be sure he had what they said he had. He wasn't about to go along with the flow just because this doctor said so.

 

 

Bria had spoken with Kerryngton a couple of times. During their first conversation, he'd asked her how business was going and gave her some insight into being an entrepreneur, totally impressing her with his business acumen.

When he called a second time she said, “I'm curious. How did you know my last name?”

“I'd rather not say.”

Bria didn't like him trying to be all mysterious. She wondered what was up with that shroud of mystery. She felt like she was at a disadvantage. He knew about her, but she didn't know about him. “Why are you holding back information? It's not fair that you knew about me before we met.”

“Honestly, I just think I heard somebody say your name,” he assured her.

She wasn't sure whether she believed him. With a smirk she responded, “Uh-huh,” and let it go.

Today, though, the conversation took a different turn. “Are you seeing anybody?” Kerryngton asked.

Bria hesitated for a second. She hadn't seen or spoken to Spade in three weeks. This would've been their wedding weekend, and she felt a bit depressed. She was trying to hang on in there, but she was starting to have her doubts about them getting back together. Maybe Spade really was serious about dumping her. They had never gone more than a day without speaking to each other. Every day she was tempted to call but fought the urge by working harder or calling Nya instead.

She hadn't expected it to take this long before Spade told her something—anything. But there had been no change, and she was even more disillusioned.

“No. My fiancé and I broke up,” she finally answered.

“Wow. I'd be lying if I said I was sorry to hear that. I mean, I'm sorry if you got hurt, but not sorry that you're single.”

“I know what you meant.” Bria folded her lips.

“Can I take you out to dinner?”

Bria massaged her temple. She had gone on dates with guys before, but not since she and Spade had become exclusive. She felt conflicted. A part of her wanted to get to know Kerryngton better because he seemed nice enough. The other part of her wondered if she was giving up on Spade too soon.

Right now she needed to preserve herself since Spade had tossed her to the side like yesterday's newspaper. She remembered hearing that the best way to get over a man was with a new man. She reasoned that an innocent dinner wouldn't hurt. Besides, she didn't want to spend her wedding day alone, feeling rejected, eating ice cream.

Kerryngton picked Bria up at the spa in his Mercedes-Benz SL-class convertible and treated her to a delicious pan-grilled mountain trout dinner at the upscale Vinings restaurant Blackstone Steaks & Seafood. She thought Vinings was quaint and upscale but felt weird being on a date in that area knowing Spade lived nearby. She prayed not to run into him.

Kerryngton opened doors for her and acted the perfect gentleman. They had reservations and were immediately seated in a cozy booth with soft, inviting lighting. Bria liked the warm wood décor, exposed brick walls, and colorful paintings on the walls.

“How did you end up at the grand opening for my spa?” Bria asked.

He chuckled. “Not trying to sound arrogant, but I'm a novelty in Atlanta. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing about it.”

She laughed. “Duly noted.”

“Seriously, though, I went because I work with a lot of women and all of them are into spa treatments. I like giving gift certificates as gifts. I wanted to check the spot out first.”

She took a sip of her ice water. “How did you get into the music business?”

“When I was a senior in high school I got a job as an intern at a major radio station in New York. All kinds of artists used to come up through there. I became cool and even friends with most of them. I hung out in studios and saw how the artists and producers made the music. Behind the scenes I'd hear the artists complain about not getting paid what they should while the execs made all the money. So, I knew I wanted to be an exec. Like the Wu-Tang Clan said, ‘Cash rules everything around me.'” He grinned.

His smile reminded Bria of Song of Solomon, chapter 4, verse 2: “Your teeth are as white as sheep, recently shorn and freshly washed. Your smile is flawless, each tooth matched with its twin” (New Living Translation).

“I was trying to get the money,” he added.

Bria nodded. Although the restaurant was full and a local band performed, Bria felt as though they were the only two people in the room.

“After I graduated from high school, I lost my way.” He clasped his hands together. “I found out that I was adopted and lost it. I joined a gang, more like a black Mafia. We rolled deep from L.A. to the ‘A.' Made a lot of money drug trafficking. I started my label and made even more money. Produced some popular artists too.”

At a loss for words, Bria's jaw dropped. Deep down inside she actually felt sorry for him.

“And then I got busted and went to jail for three years.”

Suddenly, he wasn't looking so good to Bria anymore.

“While I was gone my label still ran successfully. Everything I had before, I still have it. I've been out of prison for three months.”

Three months?
“How's it possible that you still have everything? I thought when people got busted for drugs, all of their assets were seized.” Bria felt confused.

“Depends.” He stared into her eyes. “There are ways around that.”

A part of Bria felt like ending the date, but there was something about Kerryngton that held her attention. Maybe it was his dreamy eyes or rugged good looks, but whatever it was had a hold on her.

“That life is behind me now.” He sounded sincere. “I no longer have those affiliations.”

So, he's been punished for his crimes, and now he's reformed. Everyone deserves a second chance, right? Bria pondered.

“But you know what?” he said.

“What?”

“Having money isn't what makes me happy.”

She gave him a curious look. She found that hard to believe.

“Money gives me options, but now it's all about helping people. To whom much is given much is required. My goal is to directly touch one million lives before I leave this earth.”

“How do you plan to do that?” She hung on to his every word.

“I'm glad you asked that question.” He seemed more than willing to share his intentions with her. “I started a foundation that helps disadvantaged youth and low-income families. You know how the churches give school supplies to kids in need?”

“Yes.” She knew firsthand because she had personally donated items to her church.

“Well, my organization takes that a step further. We give $500 clothing vouchers to 10,000 kids every year for school clothes and uniforms.”

Bria thought that was phenomenal. Not only was Kerryngton a shrewd businessman but a philanthropist too. Somehow he had managed to impress her again. “That's incredible.”

His face seemed to light up as he talked about helping others. Bria could tell he had a heart for people. He didn't come across as bragging, just thankful to be of service.

“And you know how the recession has caused a lot of people to lose their homes?”

“Yes.” Some of the people in her neighborhood had lost their homes due to foreclosures, and she felt sad for them.

“I know I can't help everyone—Lord knows I wish I could—but I do the best I can. Instead of just giving meals during the holidays and toys at Christmas, my foundation identifies 10,000 families with children and pays their mortgages during the months of November and December. That's my way of saying Happy Holidays.”

Bria felt all warm and fuzzy inside. That was the sweetest, most generous thing she'd ever heard. “You're very generous, Kerryngton. Have you ever been married? Got any kids?”

“I was married for three years.” He cut into his blue cheese lamb chops. “I was young and trying to make it. I thought I could build my career, make a whole lot of money, and then focus on my marriage.” He cut a piece of meat and ate it. “Well, my wife had a different view. She wanted me to spend more time with her and stop spending so much time away from home. When I wouldn't, she found another guy who would. She cheated on me, and I found out about it. After that we tried to make it work for our daughter's sake but couldn't. She was only two years old when we got divorced. But you know what?”

“No, what?”

“I don't regret any of it, because I learned a lot. At least I know how
not
to treat a woman.”

That got a chuckle out of Bria.

He ate another piece of tender lamb. “My daughter Alexis is the bright spot of my life.” He showed her a picture of Alexis on his phone.

“Very pretty,” Bria complimented. His daughter had light brown hair that went all the way to her waist. “Look at all that hair.” She thought the little girl's hair was gorgeous, like the fairy-tale Princess Rapunzel.

“Her mom's Puerto Rican.” He put the phone away. “She's eleven now. Really good kid. Honor roll student, plays the piano and violin, and speaks three languages fluently.”

“That's impressive.”

“I work hard so that she can have opportunities I didn't have.”

Bria could tell that he was a devoted father and that impressed her even more. She had respect for men who actually raised and provided for their children. Never in a million years did she ever think she'd be interested in a guy with a kid, but now she understood why one should never say never.

“Does she live in Atlanta?”

“Yes. My ex and I have joint custody. Our relationship is pretty cool. I bought them a house in Alpharetta, about ten minutes away from mine.”

No baby momma drama, Bria reasoned. “That's good.” She ate some more of her fish. “So, how old are you?”

He chuckled. “I'm thirty.” He stared into her eyes. “Is that too old for you?”

Even if she thought that was too old for her before, she didn't now. “Not at all.”

“If I'm overstepping my bounds, just tell me.” He paused. “What happened with your engagement?” He seemed genuinely interested.

She told him how abruptly her engagement ended about a month ago, surprising herself with how comfortable she felt talking to him.

“That's pretty recent.” He took a sip of Hennessy. “But I'm a patient man. I can wait for you.”

He had scored major points with that one. All night he kept her laughing with his wittiness. He held her interest by telling her fascinating stories about the many countries he'd visited and the famous artists he'd worked with. She found him intriguing and hung on to his every word.

As far as Bria was concerned, the time went by too quickly. It was 10:30 p.m. when Kerryngton dropped her off at her car.

“When can I see you again?” he asked.

“When do you want to see me again?”

“As soon as possible. I enjoyed your company.”

That made Bria feel good. She felt desirable again. Being rejected by the man she loved had taken a toll on her psyche, no matter how hard she tried to act like it hadn't. She found herself wondering if Spade was still attracted to her. What if he no longer thought she was pretty? Perhaps he didn't find her sexy. When nothing else made sense, she questioned herself.

Bria said, “Maybe we can have lunch one day this week.”

“I would like that. Just let me know.”

She opened the car door. “Good night.” She kissed him on the cheek.

“Call or text me to let me know you made it home safely,” he requested.

“I will.” She found his concern endearing. She got out and closed the door behind her. Kerryngton waited until she was in her car and pulling out before driving off.
Now that's a man,
she thought.

Bria decided to call instead of text Kerryngton when she got home, because she liked the sound of his voice. Apparently he liked the sound of hers too, because they spent two hours on the phone talking about Bria's love of flowers, the spa, her friendship with Nya, his job, and whatever else they chose to discuss. To Bria's surprise, by the time she got off the phone with Kerryngton she not only felt as though she knew him, but she could see herself dating him.