Page 93 of Maxwell

“I didn’t plan to come here, but you didn’t show up to work all week.”

“You’ve been hanging around my job?”

“It’s not as creepy as it sounds. I popped over there early each morning before work to see if I could catch you.”

“How did you find out where I lived?”

“We live in an age where we can access all kinds of information. Also, I’m rich.” He smiled, but she didn’t smile back.

She didn’t trust him.

“If Maxwell sent you, you’re wasting your time. You should leave.” She walked briskly toward the front of the building.

Jayson fell into step beside her, his long legs unfairly allowing him to put forth much less effort than her shorter legs.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me, so you can just listen. Maxwell misses you, and it’s my fault the two of you are broken up.”

Jasmine came to an abrupt stop. “Did he tell you to say that?”

“No.”

“You really expect me to believe you?”

His face changed, as if he was giving the question serious consideration. “Actually, I don’t expect you to believe me, but you know Maxwell. You should believe him. I know he’d love to hear from you.”

“I will not be calling Maxwell because there’s nothing for us to talk about,” Jasmine said in a firm voice.

“I disagree.”

“I don’t care if you disagree, Jayson.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I’ve never seen my boy like this, and I’ve known him for a long time. He misses you like crazy.”

“Well, he should’ve thought of that before he let a woman into his bed.”

“I let a woman into his bed. Maxwell and I have keys to each other’s homes.”

“I know. He has a key to your townhouse, and you have a key to his condo. What does that have to do with the woman who was in his bed?”

“Jenny is her name, and I let her into his place, as a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

He cleared his throat. “I won’t go into details, but she’s an old friend of ours, recently divorced, and she’s always kinda had a thing for Maxwell. We were chatting one day, and she asked me for a favor. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Jasmine stared at him in disbelief. “If I believe what you’re saying, your answer is very confusing. You know me, and you know Maxwell and I were in a relationship. In what world is letting another woman into his house the right thing, Jayson?”

“No need to attack me,” he said in a defensive voice.

“Is this the kind of thing the two of you do often?”

“Slow down. I’ve confessed my sins, but if you want to know anything else, talk to Maxwell. I just want you to know that he didn’t have anything to do with Jenny being at his place. Here’s the truth. When he came back into town from Boston, we were supposed to be hanging out and running the streets together like old times. But that’s not what happened. First, he spent six months working in the Morehouse program as a volunteer and chose to lay low for a while. Then he started his job as a pediatrician around the same time he met you. Next thing I know, he doesn’t have time to do anything. No trips. No wild parties. He’s not the same person that I hung with in high school and college, because even in college with pre-med classes, he made time for a good time.”

Jayson took a deep breath and released it with a sigh. “I messed up, okay? If you weren’t in the picture, the old Maxwell would’ve appreciated what I did for him. I need you to forgive my boy, and then he’ll forgive me, hopefully. Then everything will be back to normal, sorta. I mean, we won’t be running the streets together like we used to, but at least I’ll have my brother back.”

Jasmine almost felt sorry for him. “If what you’re saying is true, I’m sure he’ll forgive you eventually, and the two of you can go back to wreaking havoc on the women of Atlanta.”

“What do you mean ‘if’? I’m telling you the truth. And frankly, I’ll have to find someone else to be my wingman, because Maxwell’s done with all that. Honestly, he was never completely like me. My parents let me run wild, and I kind of pulled him along with me, but Maxwell has always had his limits. He’s always known when to say no. I didn’t. He’s pulled me out of a few crazy scrapes, believe me. He had goals. He wanted to help people. I wanted to get laid and make money so I could spend it on me or whatever hot woman I was trying to get into bed. He and I are friends, but... we’re not exactly the same.