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My Anti-Valentine
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My Anti-Valentine
Danielle Allen
Copyright
Copyright © 2021 by Danielle Allen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be copied, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, pirating, or by an information storage and retrieval system - except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or website – without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: The Art of Being
Cover Photo Credit: Adobe
Dedication
To the love of my life.
A RAW Short
A collaboration between Te Russ, Danielle Allen, and Bailey West, RAW (Russ Allen West) A Valentine Short features three titles that can be read and enjoyed in any order.
My Anti-Valentine by Danielle Allen
An Unexpected Valentine by Te Russ
A Valentine Quest by Bailey West
My Anti-Valentine
After a brunch with my best friends, I usually spend February 14th watching horror movies because Valentine’s Day is not a real holiday. It’s a corporate scheme that was designed to monetize fake romance. It’s a capitalistic scam to profit off performative love.
This year, I agreed to be Emmanuel’s date to his cousin’s wedding because we’re friends and he needed me. But attending a Valentine’s Day wedding was high on the list of things I didn’t want to do.
He wasn’t my Valentine.
He was my anti-Valentine.
And as it turned out, an anti-Valentine was exactly what I needed.
Pre-Wedding
Lifting my manicured hand, I flagged down the car I’d requested to take me to Emmanuel’s house. I was slightly tipsy and in a great mood—despite the day.
Bottomless mimosas for the win!
I always enjoyed brunch with my best friends, Yasmin and LaShae. But our yearly Galentine’s brunch was legendary. I wished we could’ve hung out longer, but I had to be at Emmanuel’s by three. And between Yasmin’s blind date and LaShae’s scavenger hunt, I probably wouldn’t hear from my girls for the rest of the day.
I climbed in the backseat of the car.
“Hey,” the driver greeted me before pulling away from the curb. “How are—Alyssa Daniels?”
I furrowed my brows. There was a familiarity in the way he said my name that forced me to crane my neck. “Dylan Banks?”
“I can’t believe it’s you!” He smiled at me through the rearview mirror. “How long has it been?”
“Our ten-year high-school reunion was nine years ago so…” My jaw dropped. “Nine years.”
“Sometimes when I think about the fact that we’ve been out of high school for almost twenty years, it gets to me,” he told me as he switched lanes. “Doesn’t feel like that long ago.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I leaned forward. “What have you been up to? How long have you been driving for EasyRider?”
“I’ve been doing this on the side for about a couple of years now. Full-time, I’m still teaching.” He shook his head. “On a good week, when I don’t have a lot of stuff to grade, I make more a week doing this than I do when I’m teaching.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Tell me about it. What about you? What are you up to these days?”
“I own Blush Boutique over on Grace Street.”
“Nice! How long have you been doing that? I thought you were a social worker or something.”
I nodded. “I was. I did both for a while, running my boutique online. But once I had enough saved up, I followed my heart. Five years ago, I took the leap of faith.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not at all,” I told him honestly. “Best decision I ever made.”
“That’s what’s up.” He slowed to a stop and looked up at me. “And happy Valentine’s Day, by the way!”
“I’m anti-Valentine’s Day,” I told him. Glancing down at my phone, I made sure I was making good time. “But thank you anyway, Dylan.”
He made a face. “Anti-Valentine’s Day?”
I stared at him through his rearview mirror. “Yes. Anti-Valentine’s Day.”
“But today is a day of love!”
“Today is February fourteenth.”
Dylan made a scoffing noise. “Don’t tell me you hate love.”
“No, I hate performative love.” I leaned forward, closing my coat so that less cleavage would show as I made my point. “There’s a difference.”
“If you hate love, just say that,” he joked.
I laughed. “Okay, wise guy. If the fourteenth is the day of love, what was yesterday?”
“The thirteenth.”
“And what’s tomorrow?”
“The fifteenth.”
“So, does love not exist on those days?”
“It does.”
I sat back in my seat. “I rest my case.”
“But Valentine’s Day is special.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, for the card companies and the chocolate factories.”
“So, what are you doing today?” he inquired.
“I’m doing my friend a favor.”
“You’re babysitting?”
“No, going to a wedding.”
He made an amused noise. “Ahhhh, a date.”
“No, not a date at all,” I clarified. “He’s one of my good friends.”
“Wait wait wait wait wait… Are you telling me you don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day?” he asked with wide eyes.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“A beautiful woman like you? I don’t understand! You have the big afro, the cool style, the nice shape, the big—”
“Thank you,” I interrupted him.
While Dylan was a nice guy, I wasn’t interested, and his compliment was starting to get uncomfortable.
“Sorry. I wasn’t hitting on you. I’m just confused as to how someone who looks like you wouldn’t have a Valentine’s Day date.”
“What I look like isn’t the point though,” I replied.
“If you had a date, would you feel differently?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “Valentine’s Day is not a real holiday and having a date wouldn’t change that fact. And I would want my man to show me love every day, not just because a mass marketing campaign told him to.”
He pulled up in front of Emmanuel’s house. “Not a real holiday? It’s on the calendar, isn’t it?”
I shook my head. “I’m done,” I laughed, opening my door. “It was great catching up, Dylan. Hope you have a great rest of your day.”
“I will. It’s Valentine’s Day after all.” He grinned. “Only a scrooge doesn’t like Valentine’s Day.”
I pointed at him. “I was going to give you five stars until you said that.”
He chuckled. “Bye, Alyssa.”
I hadn’t even made it up the sidewalk when the front door swung open. Emmanuel Asante’s two hundred twenty pounds, six feet, two inches tall frame took up most of the doorway. Wearing a tuxedo over his broad shoulders and muscular body, he looked suave.
I whistled. “Looking good, Manny!” I called out. “I see you glowing. The sun shining down just making you look all chocolate-y and delicious!”
“Get your drunk ass in here,” he demanded with a shake of his head. “You’re late.”
“No, I’m not,” I argued as I jogged up his
front steps. Giving him a quick hug, I entered his home. “I’m not drunk and I’m right on time. And it’s not going to take me long to get ready.”
He closed the front door. “I have to be at the church at three.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, shit! I thought you said we were leaving here at three.”
“No.”
“I’ll be ready in no time,” I promised, taking off upstairs. “Is my stuff still in the guest room?”
“Yes,” he called after me. “Don’t flat iron your hair. We don’t have time and it looks good how it is.”
“Thank you!”
“All your ass heard was the compliment,” he grumbled.
I laughed but since I was on a time crunch, I didn’t reply.
Emmanuel and I met at work twelve years ago and became fast friends. Two years later, when a better opportunity arose, he left the agency. But our friendship remained in tack. I was there when he got married. He was there when I lost my mother. I was there when he got divorced. He was there when I got engaged. I was there when he got promoted. He was there when my engagement fell apart. We always showed up for each other—which was how I got roped into being his date for his cousin’s wedding.
Understandably, he didn’t want to ask just anyone to be his date to a wedding on Valentine’s Day. Especially since his ex-wife might be there. And since he knew I was single and planned on watching horror movies all day while doing an at-home spa treatment, he asked me to be his wingwoman. In return, he would watch horror movies with me after the wedding.
I turned around in the mirror checking myself out. Tilting my head to the side, I ran my hands over my rounded hips and rested them on the soft pooch of my belly. The sweetheart neckline highlighted my full breasts without showing too much. The fitted dress hit below my knees, but it stretched over all my curves. The four-inch heels were my favorite and most comfortable pair, and they made my ass look incredible. I took a minute to appreciate the way the whole outfit highlighted some of my best features.
But is it too much?
I hadn’t tried the dress on since I ordered it last year. I never had a place to wear it. But because the bride and groom insisted all guests wear red or black, I threw it in my bag and dropped it off at Emmanuel’s a couple days prior. But as I stared at myself, I knew that I was going to turn a few heads.
“I’m okay with that,” I decided quietly.
With gold pins in my hair and gold dangly earrings, I sparkled. I didn’t have time for a full beat, so I just used eyeliner and my favorite lipstick to freshen my look.
“Alyssa!” Emmanuel called from somewhere downstairs. “It’s time to go!”
I put on my black cape and gave myself one last look. “I’m coming,” I yelled back, grabbing my black clutch. I stuffed the lipstick, mints, and wallet in it as I walked down the steps. “Okay so let me know your honest opinion. I ordered an eighteen and it’s a little tight, but—”
“Wow,” he said before I could finish.
I opened the cape and turned in a circle. “It’s not too much, is it?”
He took his time scanning me from head to toe and back again. “No, it’s not.”
He was staring hard, so my brows furrowed. “Are you sure?”
His eyes met mine. “You look really good.”
I grinned. “Thank you. I was going for a lady in red vibe, but I put it on and turned into Jessica Rabbit,” I joked.
He licked his lips. “I see.”
“Do you think it’s too tight? I don’t think it is, but I don’t know your people like that. They could be upset that I got all these curves showing.”
His eyes flickered over my body again. “If they’re mad, let them be mad.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Because we have to go.”
I walked out first and after securing the house, he followed. “Is the car unlocked?” I heard the mechanical click. “Thank you.”
I climbed in his roomie SUV and slid like butter across the leather seat. I put on my seatbelt just as he hopped in.
“If we’re late, the wedding planner is going to kill me. And if she kills me, I’m going to kill you,” he said as he started the car.
“You know I got your back! I’ll tell her that I needed immediate help and you saved me.”
He eyed me skeptically. “You are a horrible actress. She’s not going to believe shit you say.” As he backed out of the driveway, he added, “I’m an usher. I’m a big deal. So you making me late is not a good look.”
“I’m hearing a lot of complaining and not enough thank you for dropping all of your plans to come with me to this wedding, Alyssa,” I said imitating his voice.
He laughed loudly. “I’m sorry. I really do appreciate you coming. I know you don’t fuck with Valentine’s Day and for you to come with me is huge.”
I pointed at him. “Don’t you ever doubt how much I love and support you.” Turning, I stared at the trees as we flew by them. “And you’re welcome.”
Valentine’s Day always felt forced to me. I would purposely do anti-Valentine’s Day things on February fourteenth which was how I met the man I thought was the love of my life. Six years ago, I walked into a horror movie triple feature at the multiplex and walked out with a date. Three years later, on Valentine’s Day, that man proposed to me. And one year later, on Valentine’s Day, he said he wasn’t ready to get married and broke our engagement. So, going to a wedding on Valentine’s Day was near the top of a list of things I didn’t want to do.
But Emmanuel needed me. And I was always there when my friends needed me.
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” He laughed. “What are you daydreaming about over there?” he asked, hitting my arm to get my attention.
I pointed at the clock on his dashboard. “I was just thinking about how I got ready in record time.”
“I didn’t think you were going to pull it off.”
I bounced my shoulders. “And yet, I did.”
We laughed and joked our way to the next city over. As the GPS let us know we were getting closer to our destination, Emmanuel got quiet.
“What’s on your mind, Manny?” I wondered, staring at his pensive expression.
“It’s nothing,” he answered with a shake of his head. He looked over at me and smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
I sucked my teeth. “You know I know you better than that. What’s wrong?”
He picked up his phone and showed me he had a missed call.
“Nicole,” I read before meeting his gaze. “Your ex-wife?”
“That’s the one.” He tossed the phone back into the cup holder and stared straight ahead.
“Well… you knew that it was a possibility that she would be at the wedding,” I said gently.
“Yeah, but what would be the purpose of her calling? We don’t have anything to talk about. We haven’t talked in over two years.”
“Maybe that’s why she wants to talk. Maybe she wants to apologize.”
“Apologizing is not her style. But what is her style is being dramatic and trying to start shit for no reason.”
I frowned. “Or maybe she wants to apologize for how everything went down between you two. Or maybe she wants to make amends. Or maybe she wants to ask you to join her pyramid scheme.”
He let out a short, dry laugh. “What?”
I smiled, reaching over and patting his arm. “My point is that it could be anything, but you are in control. She called you. You can decide if you want to return the call. Or you can decide you don’t want to know what she’s calling about and never call her back. If she’s at the wedding, you can ask her what she wanted—or not. You have the power.”
He smirked. “You know… you’re kinda smart sometimes.”
My mouth dropped as I feigned shock. “Kinda? Sometimes?”
“I guess that’s why I keep you around.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please! I’m the one keeping you around.”
He pulled into the church p
arking lot and parked. Looking over at me, he put his arm behind my headrest. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” He kept staring at me, so I added, “I promise.”
“Thank you for doing this. If we get to the reception and you want to dip out early, let me know.”
“I appreciate you. But I’m fine.” I opened the door. “Now let’s get this show on the road.”
His eyes pinged my face before he gave me one solitary nod. “Let’s do this.”
*****
Wedding
“The wedding was beautiful,” I remarked as we walked out of the church. “It was a little cold in there, but besides that, it was beautiful.” I glanced over at Emmanuel’s clenched jaw and focused eyes as he unlocked his car doors. “I got to keep my cape on the whole time and that was nice. The bridesmaids’ dresses were really pretty. Was that tulle? It looked like tulle,” I rambled.
We climbed into the SUV and as soon as both of our doors shut, I grabbed his arm. “What the hell happened? You went to the bathroom smiley and happy and came back with your grumpy face on.”
He started the engine and backed out of the parking spot.
“Hellllllllllllllo?” I dragged the word out as he drove toward the exit.
Still silent, he unlocked his phone and then handed it to me. “The last message.”
“I called to extend an olive branch since I’ll be at the reception. I don’t want things to be awkward between us, so I want to put this out there now. I’m open to being friends. But I’m not interested in revisiting our past. I heard you were still single because you were hung up on me and as flattered as I am, I am not interested in going backward. I want to move forward with my life. So, I want you to make peace with that. Namaste,” I read in complete shock and a little bit of horror. I put the phone down and stared at him, understanding why he looked so perturbed earlier. “Ummmm… I don’t have the words…”