Once Ghosted, Twice Shy Read online

  In Thesolo, people didn’t fear ghosts; they welcomed visions of the ancestors, but the aftermath was called a “second death” because you were forced to grieve again after that brief reconnection.

  Oh goddess. Likotsi’s throat was rough. Would she have to go through that pain again?

  “I didn’t ghost you. I told you that I couldn’t continue the relationship,” Fab said, the fingers of one hand lifting and her brows drawing together. “You were the one having a fling while in a different country for business. You were leaving, and stuff came up that made it clear I didn’t have time for more heartbreak, okay?”

  The train rattled as it rushed through the tunnel, the jerking motions pushing Fab against Likotsi and then pulling her away.

  “You never responded when I asked why!” Likotsi’s voice was brittle with a sudden anger as she struggled to be heard over the rattle of the train. Seven months and three weeks! That was how long she’d nursed this sorrow, how long it had been since her desperate messages to Fab had gone unread, and now Fab sat there with her warm brown eyes and bright red lips, calmly explaining that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “That’s not ghosting, that’s—that’s having boundaries,” Fab said gently. “You like knowing things, but the only things that mattered were that you were leaving, I was staying, and I had a life outside of our little fairy-tale trysts. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  The train jumped a little on the track and Fab slid toward Likotsi, her body warm.

  “Excellent. I give you thanks for taking time to explain boundaries to me. You and your boundaries could have stayed in the other train car if you really cared to enforce them.”

  Likotsi turned her head away, focusing on the tunnel lights blipping by at regular intervals. At least now she could finally close this sad chapter in her dating life and move on.

  “Hey.” Fab’s voice was soft. Uncertain. “Did you eat yet?”

  Likotsi glanced back at Fab. Her smile was wicked, but her eyes were tired and her face was strained.

  That’s not your problem, Likotsi reminded herself. She tapped her toe on the ground, reminding herself that her shoes pointed toward the future not the past.

  She sighed.

  “I had coffee and a butter roll earlier,” she replied. And even though she knew she shouldn’t ask, she did. “Why?”

  “Have you had a chance to try dim sum yet? There’s a place near here that’s really good.” She gestured out to the train platform as they pulled into Canal Street.

  “I’m not hungry,” Likotsi said.

  “You like tea,” Fab pressed. “They have great tea. Unlimited refills.”

  Likotsi knew she should say no. She’d made a resolution. She had an itinerary. She was going to walk the city alone, make new memories to blot out the ones featuring Fabiola’s big brown eyes and her warm mouth. She was going to leave behind the itchy anxiety that had come with staring at unread messages in the dating app day after day.

  But . . .

  Her role as repository of wisdom had apparently also taken the weekend off.

  “Dim sum is on my list of things to do.” Likotsi patted the inner pocket that held her handwritten list, and she felt her heart beating fast beneath her palm.

  “Can I treat you? To an early lunch?” Fab reached out, but then drew her gloved hands back. “I know this is weird, but I thought I’d never see you again. Like, I’ve been mad busy and this is my first free weekend in forever and—boom!—now you’re here and you’ve been here for months, and—” She took a deep breath. “I’m rambling. I won’t get ahead of myself, but maybe we can start with tea. And some soup dumplings?”

  She stood and started toward the door as the train began to slow.

  Likotsi stared at Fab, weighing her anger against her yearning, and though hope was a thing with feathers there was nothing insubstantial about it.

  If she stayed on the train, she might never find out what Fab had hidden behind those boundaries—what had made her push Likotsi away. If she stayed, her shoes might never point forward.

  The doors were open now. The passengers who’d been stuck with Likotsi were shuffling out and those who had crowded the platform waiting were flooding in, churning Fab through the doors and into the station.

  Just sit. Let the doors close. Move on with your life.

  Then Fab looked back, and those of eyes of hers hid nothing. There was no cunning—just cautious expectation.

  The scale crashed down in favor of the fluttering in Likotsi’s chest that fanned her anger and her curiosity and her longing.

  Likotsi jumped to her feet and pushed past the people entering the train, body stiff as she tried to prevent too much damage to her jacket and suit, making it through the sliding doors just before they shut and the train pulled off.

  This was probably a terrible idea, but then again, Likotsi didn’t believe in coincidences. She’d made a vow to let Fab go, and then Fab had appeared, as if the goddess herself had conjured her.

  The very practical side of her saw this for what it could be, without the chest fluttering—a reconnaissance mission. She’d spent months creating a shrine to Fabiola in her mind and her heart, extolling all the woman’s perfections and lamenting the loss of them. She’d taken a negligible number of interactions and turned them into some divine experience that she would never be able to re-create with another.

  She would follow Fab’s lead. She would remember that Fab was a woman like any other, and that what they had shared was nice enough, but certainly not worth any further lamentation. Who knew? Perhaps she would find Fab to be utterly dull—as dull as the commonplace winter hat she was currently wearing.

  Everyone on the platform was moving except Fab, a dollop of frozen relief. She seemed shocked that Likotsi had actually joined her. Then the right corner of her mouth kicked up.

  “Took you long enough,” she said, finally.

  Somewhere, the polite part of Likotsi’s mind chided her for blocking the flow of pedestrian traffic, but she didn’t start walking. She slowly adjusted the lapels of her coat and then the hem of each cuff.

  “Well. I’m certainly worth the wait.”

  Chapter Two

  The Previous Spring

  Fab fucking hated first dates, but this time, for the first time since installing the dating app on her phone, she was more excited than nervous to be meeting someone. Maybe it was because she didn’t have to worry about what this date would lead to—the woman she was meeting, Likotsi, had made it clear that she’d only be in town for a few days. Unlike most people Fab met on the app, Likotsi had been adamant about not starting things off under false pretenses.

  Likotsi: I don’t mean to be forward or presumptuous, but I value honesty: I’m only in this wonderful city for a few days, and my work occupies much of my time. If you’re looking for something long term, I cannot provide that, but I’ve been told that I make pleasant enough company over a drink.

  Fabiola C: Wooow. I’m intrigued by this honesty you speak of. Are you free this afternoon?

  Likotsi: When? I’ve just been given leave to take the night to myself.

  Fabiola C: “Given leave”? What do you do?

  Likotsi: I’m an assistant to someone who requires a very particular skill set.

  Fabiola C: Oooo, mysterious. I like mysterious. There’s a great happy hour at my friend’s bar in this neighborhood. It has a nice outdoor area, too. I’ll be there in five minutes.

  Likotsi: Then I’ll be there in ten. Send me the address.

  Fab had been heading to Lakay Sa Lakay Restaurant and Lounge anyway, carrying back Charles’s tax documents, when she’d received the notification from her dating app.

  When she’d seen Likotsi’s photo—a woman in a dapper suit with a bearing that made her think of royalty and a mouth that made her think of worship—a flash of desire had zipped through her body, surprising her. Fab was a bit of a celebrity in her little pinup girl/jewelry artist corner of socia
l media, in the world that existed outside of boring tax statutes and documents sent to the IRS. Her feed was full of people posting the most flattering photos of themselves possible, but she’d never felt this potent attraction when scrolling through her timeline.

  And it was more than the physical jolt of attraction: hope had flashed in her, like sunlight catching on a precious stone. Probability had started a plus and minus column in her head and her heart—then she’d read the message. Fab was tired of flings, but she’d wondered what that instant attraction would translate to in real life, and curiosity had won out.

  In a way, she was glad this would just be a blip on the radar. She had her next few months planned out—preparing to give notice at the small accounting firm she’d been at since graduating, though she’d still do tax prep on the side during the busy season for the clients she’d acquired over the years. Her online jewelry store was doing well, and orders had been exploding as word of mouth spread. By the time Christmas approached, she’d have used her savings to rent a prime space at a holiday market. She wanted to turn her side hustle into her main hustle, and that would require all her time and energy, especially because she made her products herself.

  Drinks with no expectations of more was about all she could promise anyone right now, anyway.

  Her phone vibrated and she glanced at the text message, expecting it to be from her late date, but finding a message from her mother instead.

  Maman: Lise has her check-in in two days. She told me she had a nightmare that she was trapped in a cage.

  Fab: I looked over all her paperwork and everything is in order. It’s been fine every year and it will be fine this year, too.

  Maman: Si bondye vle.

  If God wills it.

  Fab sighed and put the phone away, not telling her mother that she’d also awoken from unsettling dreams about Tati Lise, the woman who had brought Fab her first jewelry-making kit one long ago birthday, stocking it with beads she’d brought back from Haiti. It was Lise who’d taught Fab, well, everything.

  It’ll be fine.

  Likotsi’s ten minutes had come and gone, and Fab was starting to cop a bit of an attitude. She sipped her water and stared at the door that led from the bar to the small tropics-themed backyard space with annoyance. Charles poked his head out, his thick brows raising toward his bald head. Fab scowled at him.

  He disappeared back inside.

  If she got stood up, at least it wouldn’t have been after special date prep. She was wearing what she’d worn to take some springtime photos in Fort Tryon Park before heading to the lounge: yellow and lime-green wax print dress, sky-high heels, her hair soft waves from the pin curls she’d set before bed the previous night. If this woman didn’t show, Fab could go home and edit her photos or watch some of the jewelry-making tutorials in the online course she’d signed up for . . . but Fab really hoped she would arrive.

  And then she did.

  Likotsi’s hair was shaved on the sides, the edge-up fresh, with her hair on top long and twisted into locs. She wore a brown suit that had clearly been tailored to both accentuate her curves and minimize them, a starched white shirt that would have made Fab’s Clorox aficionado mom proud, and gleaming brown leather loafers.

  Likotsi looked as put together in person as she had in her photos, but her smile was much more becoming. There was a certain . . . regard in the tilt of her mouth, a mix of courteousness and insinuation. Like she would ask politely before giving you the best head of your life.

  Heat rushed to Fab’s face and she looked down to hide the thirst blazing in her eyes.

  Her gaze landed on Likotsi’s hands, and the bouquet of flowers they held. An actual bouquet. Yellow roses, purple carnations, and pink chrysanthemums, from the bodega down the street judging from the plastic wrap around them. Some people might make fun of flowers from a dusty corner store, but Fab always kept fresh flowers on the coffee table in her studio.

  She always had to buy them for herself.

  The attraction that she’d felt when she received the dating app notification was nothing compared to the odd, tangible certainty Fab felt in Likotsi’s presence. They’d barely spoken yet and Fab knew. Whatever the night held would be good, and she needed something good to distract her from the gnawing worry about Tati Lise.

  “Took you long enough,” Fab said before wrapping her lips around her straw. She knew what she was doing with her mouth—Likotsi executed a polite bow, but her gaze rested on Fab’s lips even as she bent at the waist.

  “I got a bit waylaid,” Likotsi said in a lovely accent that was clearly African, but different from the ones Fab had heard growing up in Brooklyn. “But I’m certainly worth the wait.”

  She handed over the flowers, and dammit, no bodega bouquet looked this good without some post-purchase arrangement. The flowers weren’t supposed to assuage Fab because Likotsi was late—they were the reason Likotsi was late.

  There was a fleck of green on the nail of Likotsi’s well-manicured index finger, and the sight of it took Fab’s resolution to enjoy this fling for what it was and reformed it into a heart-shaped wreath of yellow, purple, and pink.

  Fab looked up, knowing the smile on her face was goofy as hell. “I think you just might be. We’ll see.”

  Likotsi pulled out the seat across the table, her gaze intent as she adjusted her suit and sat down in one fluid movement. “Tell me your life story, the four-minute version,” she said without preamble.

  Fab’s smile tilted into a grimace of confusion. “What?”

  Likotsi relaxed into her chair, back straight and eyes knowing as she leaned toward Fab.

  “I recently read an article that said there were thirty-six questions you could ask a date that lead to falling in love. Most of them are boring, though, so I’ll only be asking you four.”

  “Are you trying to fall in love with me?” Fab laughed. “Before we even order our drinks?”

  “Come. Your profile implies that you enjoy math. Four is only one-ninth of thirty-six. That’s only a little bit!” Likotsi lifted one shoulder in a move too smooth and refined to be called a shrug. “I’m trying to fall a little bit in love with you.”

  On any other date, Fab would have rolled her eyes, or maybe plastered on a fake smile as she snuck a peek at her phone to see how long it would be before she could leave. But now she felt a slightly unsettling jolt of fear, like when she momentarily lost her balance on her high heels but righted herself just before she fell.

  She rested her fingertips on the edge of the table and leaned forward a bit.

  “Okay. Challenge accepted. My family came here from Haiti before I was born. I’m an only child. I grew up in Brooklyn, but live in this neighborhood now. I love food and travel, though I indulge the former more than the latter. I’m an accountant, which is sometimes not as boring as most people think it is, but my real love is making jewelry. I used to do it just for fun and my family, then I took some night classes at FIT and started getting serious. Now I have a small business and I’m looking to expand it soon.”

  Fab felt a little strange calling her online store a small business, but that’s what it was, and something about how Likotsi sat with such self-assurance made Fab surer of herself, too.

  “Impressive. When did you start making jewelry?” She looked appreciatively at Fab’s necklace, giving a nod that felt like approval Fab hadn’t asked for but was still glad to have.

  Fab tilted her head. “Is this one of the four questions? If so, that’s an oddly specific questionnaire or this is kinda creepy.”

  Now it was Likotsi who laughed. “No. That was my own question. I’m going off script.”

  “What happens if you end up asking me thirty-six questions, though?”

  Likotsi brushed a couple of stray locs behind an ear with one hand. “Let’s find out.”

  Fab sipped her drink just to look away from Likotsi’s eyes. She felt a little dizzy and she was still only drinking seltzer.

 
“I started making jewelry when I was a kid. My aunt enjoyed it, and when she saw how much I loved the stuff she made, she started teaching me. Brought me my own kit and taught me to make simple necklaces, bead bracelets, earrings, stuff like that. After I graduated college, I took classes on my own.” Fab took a sip of her water. She was growing more nervous as the date went on instead of less. Butterflies in your stomach kind of nervous. “What about you?”

  Likotsi rubbed her palms together absentmindedly. Fab looked at her long fingers and her short, well-manicured nails, and her face went hot yet again, a new record for her since blushing wasn’t her usual reaction to anything outside of scandalous video clips her friends sometimes sent her and she accidentally opened in public.

  “I am from Thesolo. I grew up in the country’s capital, but most of my family lived in a smaller village, so I had the best of both worlds. I love technology, and travel, and interesting things.”

  Fab had heard some things about the country, possibly as questions in the lounge quizzes Charles held every two weeks, but didn’t know much. It felt rude to say that, though, so she nodded as if she was well-versed in all things Thesolo.

  “And you said you were here for work?”

  For the first time, Likotsi looked a bit reticent, but she recovered quickly. “I’m an assistant to an important man in my country who is here for meetings and some other, personal business. He is very nice, if a bit thickheaded.”

  Fab was curious about the vagueness of Likotsi’s work description—sometimes vagueness meant lies, but sometimes it meant protecting someone. It wouldn’t be cool for Likotsi’s boss if she was going out with randos from dating apps and immediately putting all his business on the street. She didn’t press.

  Likotsi pivoted quickly. “Is there something you’ve dreamed of doing?”