Page 15 of The Best Man: Unfinished Business

“True, but she should probably be with someone else by now, whether it’s serious or not.” The truth was complex and hard for Harper to admit. “She deserves it.” He knew that was the adult and mature thing to say, and he had no right to think otherwise. “Hell, I’m out getting mine.”

“When you ain’t fake bussin’ nuts,” Lance remarked with a chuckle. Harper laughed too, then exhaled a cloud of vapor after a large breath.

“I just didn’t think about it. I didn’t think about her…moving on. Maybe she’s…happier without me,” Harper admitted. Lance’s head tilted, but he didn’t interrupt. Harper searched for a better explanation. “I think in the back of my mind I felt like she’d have a harder time. Like, like…”

“Like…?” Lance prodded.

“Like me.” Harper looked away from his boy to the wives still posing, laughing, retaking photos. “I feel like—like I been kicked out of my life, L.” Harper declared. “And I want back in.”

“What does that look like for you, Harp? I mean, what are you missing?”

“Companionship I guess?”

“Seem like you got plenty of that.”

“I’m fucking a lot. No doubt. I am squarely in my ‘hoe’ phase.”

“You getting your glory pussy.”

“Right. But I don’t know if any of them get me. No one seems to fit. Not with me, not with the crew. And clearly I don’t know how to set boundaries.”

“You not gonna replace Robyn overnight.”

“I don’t know that I’m trying to replace Robyn.

I don’t know that I can.” Harper stabbed at the ground with his foot.

“We met when I was trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted. She helped me discover those things. I mean she’s special and unique and we had a lot of time together, to build a life. How do I replace that?”

“It takes time, Harp. Me and Jas been married a little over a year and I have to remind myself a lot that she’s not Mia. She’s never going to be Mia. So replacing someone you love, your life, your rib, that’s hard. That takes time.”

“You guys are cool though, right?”

Lance looked askance, not as if he was avoiding but being thoughtful about his response.

His voice lifted an octave as he uttered, “Ehhh, we have our moments. What couple doesn’t, right?

But we’re finding our stride. God willing, we’ll get there.

The honeymoon never lasts forever and real relationships take work.

Communication. Commitment. You ain’t there yet, fam. ”

Harper considered what his best friend said. He knew Lance was right. But he still wanted to be “there,” wherever that was, desperately.

Over by the fountain, Quentin began his rebellion against the impromptu photo shoot. He passed the ladies’ bags he’d been holding to Murch and walked toward the street in protest, raising his arm in salutations to the fellas. “Catch y’all later,” Quentin declared.

Shelby implored Quentin to wait “just one more minute,” but her long legs in spike-heels began striding in his direction, each of them like a magnet drawn to the other.

She only paused to turn back to Candace with one last air-kiss good night.

Jasmine embraced both women separately and then turned to retrieve her purse and an embrace from Murch.

“What’s up with Jordan?” Lance inquired as he walked toward his newlywed.

Harper matched strides with him. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug.

“For what it’s worth,” Lance offered, “she didn’t reach out to me either. Not sure if she spoke to the kids.”

“Probably. Auntie J is usually on the case.”

“Yeah, you right. Y’all cool?” Lance stopped walking to face Harper and wait for an answer. Harper stopped too.

“Me and Jordan? Far as I know, yeah? Why?”

“She may have some insight for you on your dating escapades. She always has.” Lance’s words were an understatement.

Jordan Armstrong had made a mark on every aspect of Harper’s dating and married life, all the way since college at Westmore.

From the time she friend-zoned him back in the day, Jordan could always be counted on to give him insight into himself and the women he desired.

All the women, except for Jordan herself.

As long as they had been friends and flirted with the possibility of being more, they never could get in perfect sync.

There was always some barrier, some obstacle that kept them from consummating their relationship.

Even when things got hot and heavy between them, cooler heads prevailed.

Well, her cooler head. It was always Jordan who corralled him back whenever Harper deigned to escape their platonic status.

Unlike Harper, Jordan knew how to set boundaries.

Jordan was about Jordan. And handling her B.I.

, Jordan rarely involved her heart. She was always measured.

Harper knew she liked having him as a friend.

At least that’s what she seemed to value from him.

He was mostly happy to be there if for nothing else but to be close to her.

They were as intimate a pair as could be, just not physically.

Crossing the line was likely never going to happen given their respective and similar ambitions.

Equally yoked, but destined to stay in their respective corners.

That was, until he wrote Unfinished Business and fictionalized their relationship into a fantasy of what they might have become had they taken the leap.

Had they had their night. The handful of times they had time and opportunity, the serial monogamist was dating, then married to the woman that Jordan had declared was “the one” for him.

That union lasted over twenty years, produced a thriving career and a beautiful young spirit named Mia.

So presumably she knew what she was talking about.

And when that relationship ended, what did the even-keeled Jordan say?

I can’t be your safe place to land, Harper.

So there he was, back in the friend zone.

Seemingly where he belonged. He should at least repair that.

Yeah, Jordan would have an opinion about getting back into his own life.

Harper could hear her now remarking on the Bailey situation: You’re fuck-boy adjacent, Harper. Harper smiled and shook his head.

Harper and Lance resumed their pace and quickly reached Jasmine, Murch, and the birthday girl.

“Good to see you again, Hoppa.” Jasmine lifted her arms out to Harper who returned her hug and a cheek kiss.

“Same here, Jasmine. Y’all be safe going back to Jersey.”

“Oh no. We staying in the city tanight. Lance doesn’t like driving at night. Sometime I think he forget where we live.”

“Stop,” Lance declared.

But Jasmine continued. “And working fa a hotel chain has its perk. You need a room tanight?”

“Nah, I’ma get a ride back.” Harper gestured to Murch and Candace. “Y’all wanna ride back to BK?”

“Oh no. Jasmine got us a suite,” Murch said. “So we’re staying in Manhattan too. The girls’ll be good. You wanna join us for a drink? Little nightcap?”

“Ahhhh…” Harper mused.

“Have a quick one, Harper,” Candace offered. “It won’t be long because I’m trying to see what’s up with that ass play I heard about tonight.” The group laughed as Murch rolled his eyes, smiled, and shook his head.

“Fucking Quentin…” Murch sounded off in faux frustration.

Harper weighed Candace’s offer. “Thanks for the invite, Candace,” he responded. “But I should call it a night and get back. I gotta deadline. Need to get some work done.” He leaned in to kiss her goodbye. “Happy birthday again. And I can return the salt lamp if it’s lame or you don’t want it.”

“Stop it, Harper,” Candace reassured him. “I’m going to put it to great use. Thank you for the gift. And more than that, thanks for coming. I know you’re busy.”

Harper nodded as he contemplated the statement that had always been his default. Just busy. His MO. His excuse. But that wasn’t working anymore. And it was time to make a change.

“Night, y’all.” Harper turned to head down the street, away from his friends, focused once again on what awaited him back at home.