He watched her talk into a few different walkies controlling the organized chaos that surrounded them. She was like a conductor, and all the production assistants were different parts of her orchestra, getting everyone in sync working together. Richard had never met someone who could make such a taxing job look so easy.
He watched her in her signature stance. Hand on one of her curvy hips, smirk embedded in the corner of her lips, and eyes always on alert, but still kind.
They'd worked on his show together for four years. With each passing year, he grew more and more fond of her. Now it was hard to be in the same room without making a fool of himself.
Luckily, she didn't seem to mind.
If you asked him, Richard couldn’t pinpoint the one thing that made Jameelah, or Jam, as he affectionately called her, great. It wasn't just that she was beautiful... because she was. Smooth dark skin, bright smile, a perfect ass he wanted to sink his teeth into.
And it wasn't just because she was competent at her work... because she was. Many a man had tried to put her in her "place" only for her to smack them right back down with no more than a few words.
No, it was all of that and more. She was a giver, constantly teaching those under her, learning from those who'd been there. Making the impossible happen. Being the first one in and the last one to leave. Never taking anyone's shit, including his. She was everything he'd come to realize he wanted.
And couldn't have.
"Alright Richard, you can go home now." she announced walking up to him.
Today had been rough. Screaming kids, melted marshmallows, and man-made windstorms would drive anyone mad, but she held her own.
He smiled up at him from his seat. "Can you even stand? You look like you'll topple over any minute."
She smiled back with that amazing smile that was better than sunshine. "Oh, I'm going to topple, right in my house as soon as I get home! These kids were a mess! How's your shin?"
He shrugged. "I'm sure I'll manage. The kick hit my ego harder."
She reached up and picked something out of his hair. The proximity was like a breath of fresh air to him.
"You'll be just fine."
He watched with longing as she walked away. it could've been his imagination, but he was sure there was an extra sway in her hips. His smile was short-lived as the weight of his wedding ring came crashing back into focus. It often felt like an anvil on his hand, reminding him of the choice he made so long ago. The wrong choice. With a wistful sigh, he limped towards his changing room. Something would have to give soon. He was tired of living a lie.
To Be Continued...