CH 5: I'm sorry

All I thought about was Yemaya the whole night. When I got a chance to get away from Elio, I hid in the restroom in a handicap stall. I called Yemaya and her phone went straight to voicemail. Fuck. So I called three more times, just hoping she'd pick up.

I lie to myself saying her phone probably died or she was asleep just any fucking thing that would make me feel better but I couldn't breathe, my chest hurts and my vision blurs — I could only blame myself for whatever happened to Yemaya.

"Mr. Jensen?" Elio's voice booms throughout the restroom.

Of course, he would come and find me. Saying nothing would be for the best but I see his brown dress shoes similar to mine standing outside the stall door.

"Come out."

"I'm taking a piss. Fuck off, Elio." And fuck I hate how my voice pitched higher and then cracks.

"You're upset."

"Can you fuck off?"

"Just open the door, please."

Funny how he knew the word, please. Still, I wasn't unlatching the door. I sat on the toilet, wiped my eyes, and tried texting Yemaya and it was like Elio knew what I was doing.

"She's gone," he said remorsefully. "Now please open the door, my patience is wearing thin."

Yelling and screaming at him wouldn't bring Yemaya back and demanding he bring her back wouldn't do anything.

Two men talk to Elio for a moment. They tell rich white people jokes that go over my head. My legs bounce up and down. Elio taps on the stall door.

"I'll count to ten and if you don't unlatch the door, I'll kick it in."

Now I know his threats weren't empty. He's counting slowly. Swallowing the lump in my throat I get off the toilet unlatching the door when he gets to nine. I walk past Elio and over to the sinks. A couple of men were washing their hands. Elio stands behind me, looking into the mirror at me. 

"I'm sorry."

"You gonna bring her back?"

"I can't do that," he said. "You didn't listen."

I walk out of the restroom and down the hall back into the ballroom. A beautiful woman stood on stage singing — I grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiter's trays as they passed by. Why the fuck did he even want me to come with him to this shit?

When I knew Elio wouldn't come find me I stepped out on the balcony. Sea salt and seaweed layered the cool night air. I gulped down the champagne and I didn't realize how tight I held the empty glass – it shattered, pieces of glass cutting into the palm of my hand, and the wet splatter of blood hit the marble balcony floor.

Fuck.

When I turned around I bumped into someone. I stepped back. It's another black dude. He looks down at my bleeding hand.

"You are hurt?" His accent I couldn't place. He steps closer. "May I?" He gently took my hurt hand and guided me back into the ballroom, down the hall, and into the restroom.

He asked the man working the restroom if there was a first aid kit or anything he could use to bandage up my wound.

I leaned against a sink with my bloody hand on my suit and the blood soaked into the fabric. The guy takes my hand again and carefully looks at it. He ran the palm of my hand under cold water and I hissed. Relax. He mumbles -- I found out his name is Mikhail but he tells me I could call him Mike instead.

After checking to make sure there were no little shards in my hand he bandaged my hand up.

"Suit bloody." he points at the crimson stain. "You come with me. For new dress wear."

"It's okay. I'll just get it out with some hot water or some shit."

"You come with me," Mike said as he turned on his heels. 

So I followed behind him. I didn't know this place doubled as a hotel on the top section. Mike slid his key card into the door and it beeps with a green dot before the lock clicks.

I stood near the door while Mike moved about his hotel room. He offered me to sit but I told him I was fine standing.

Mike's a handsome nigga, tall, and his dark skin adds to his allure. He had a rugged appearance with a low cut and a thick beard.

"Come by yourself tonight?" Mike asked.

"Nah with my boss." And I guess that's what Elio was to me since I was working for him.

Mike starts listing off the names of people who he thought were my boss. I told him "Elio Bianchi."

"Oh, my brother."

"Um, you're brother?... But you're black..."

Mike lets out a deep belly laugh. "Not blood. But grew up with Bianchi in Italy."

"Oh, so you're like an Italian nigga?"

He laughs. "Russian."

First time meeting a black Russian. No wonder his accent seemed heavy.

I get changed into the bathroom. The suit Mike gave me was a size bigger. When I came out of the bathroom Mike was speaking with a lady who looked like housekeeping. She takes my suit and Mike says she'll get the stain out and have it back to me by the end of the night.

Mike and I walk down the staircase. Elio was waiting at the bottom.

"Well, look who is it," Mike said as he stood in front of Elio.

And Elio gives me a look before turning his full attention to Mike. They talked a little bit and I was going to leave the two alone when Elio grabbed my good hand pulling me to his side. His fingers laced with mine. I tried to shake him off. He squeezed my hand and leaned to my ear telling me to "behave."

"Oh, your boy Bianchi?" Mike asked.

"I ain't his boy," I said.

Elio looks at me with a tight lip smile.

"Bianchi, are you playing nice?" Mike tilts his head to the side. 

"Always," he said. "I and Mr. Jensen need to get to our table. I'll talk to you later tonight."

"Well, Mr. Jensen hope your hand gets better."

When we got our table Elio pulled out the chair for me. I sat in another chair that was away from Elio but that didn't stop him from taking the seat beside me. He looks at my bandage hand.

"What happened?" Elio asked as he ran his fingers over the bandage. "Your suit?" He finally noticed I wasn't in the same matching suit as him anymore.

For the remainder of the night, I don't talk to Elio. On the table, there was a menu card offering three fancy food options, shit I never had before. You circled what you wanted and a host came and got the card. Elio tried to explain to me what was on the menu but honestly, I wasn't hungry so I didn't order anything but Elio ordered for me anyway.

Turns out this dinner party was for charity. They were having an auction later on in the night. When the food came Elio told me I needed to eat something as he cut up the food for me. I end up pushing the plate away from me. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I fumbled to get it out. I had this hope that it was Yemaya texting me. It wasn't.

"I'm tired," I said. One, I didn't want to be here and two, thinking about Yemaya was making me more and more anxious.

And I thought Elio would say something like No you're staying. But he calls his driver to bring the car around. I don't bother to get the suit back that Mike had got cleaned.

I'm pressed up against the door with my head resting on the window. The city buildings are in motion with their twinkling lights. 

"Do you want to spend the night with me?" Elio asked quietly.

"Fucker does it look like I want to? Take my ass back to my place."

I waited for some smart-ass remark but it never came. Sneaking a look at him— he's looking out the window, his fingers tapped against his thigh.

"You'll get over her," he said.

"Fuck you, Elio."

The car comes to a slow stop out front of my house. Before I could open the door, Elio gently grabbed my forearm and pulled me back.

"Why were you with Mikhail?"

"We was fucking." 

His hand tightened on my arm. "Don't toy with me."

I held up my bandaged hand. "I hurt my hand. My suit got bloody and he took me to his room to give me something else to change into."

"You changed in front of him?"

"Maybe."

"Mr. Jensen."

"I changed in the bathroom."

His hold on my arm loosens some. He takes my bandaged hand and kisses my knuckles -- I snatch my hand away.

"That woman will be fine," he said. " I don't want you to hate me."

I rolled my eyes at his bullshit. "It's too late for that."