Reaching out, Karla ran her fingers over the length of rubber that looked amazingly like an actual penis. It was large but not as large Ronald’s impressive member.
A slow smile parted her lips. “You know that you’re a freak, Ronald King.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She picked up the contraption attached to an adjustable belt and fastened it around her waist. “Look at me,” she teased. “I have a dick.”
Ronald scooped her off the bed. “Let’s try in the shower just in case I have an accident.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Karla kissed his cheek. “Are you a virgin, Ronald?”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Am I the first woman to sample your bum hole?”
Ronald nodded. “Yes, you are.”
If Karla had asked him if she was the first to have anal intercourse with him, he would’ve said no. However, she would be the first woman.
CHAPTER 62
“Can I refresh your drink?” Lance asked Ronald King.
Ronald waved his hand. “No. I’m good here.”
Cory Cumberland held up a hand. “I’ve already passed my limit,” he said before his host could ask him whether he wanted another beer. He crossed his sock-covered feet resting on a suede ottoman. “I’ve got to give it to you, LL. You’re really doing the damn thing.”
Ronald lifted his glass of brandy. “Ditto. You have a nice apartment, a beautiful fiancée who can cook and a thriving, very profitable business.”
Lance smiled. “Life has been good,” he said modestly.
“Shit,” Ronald drawled. “You’re doing more than all right. Karla said that Dina told her that the two of you will move to Upper Saddle Brook later on in the year. Every time they get together they go on and on about buying a funny-sounding table or chair. What the hell is the difference between a Chippendale and one of those kinky-ass French kings?”
Chuckling softly, Lance shook his head. “I told Dina what goes on inside the house is her domain and what goes on outside is mine. That translates into I bring home the bacon, and how she prepares it is her business as long as I can recognize it as bacon.”
Ronald took another sip of his after-dinner liqueur. Lancelot Haynes and his fiancée had invited the Kings and the Cumberlands to Sunday dinner. What surprised him was that Dina Gordon’s cooking skills were exceptional.
He’d thought her nothing more than eye candy who’d managed to pimp an older man into taking care of her. But when he saw Lance and Dina interact he saw genuine affection between them.
Cory, his gaze fixed on the muted television screen, nodded. “Money—it can make a marriage or break it.” He’d stopped gambling, but he still refused to accept Sybil’s offer to give him what he needed to start up his own company.
“That’s not going to be a problem with Dina and myself,” Lance said confidently. “All she has to do is call me Big Daddy and my wallet opens automatically.”
“Damn, LL,” Ronald said. “You don’t have to let everyone know you’ve been pussy-whipped.”
Cory shifted his gaze, glaring at Ronald. “Mind your neck, King. It could be the man likes being pussy-whipped.”
“Yeah, King, mind your neck,” Lance intoned.
Ronald’s silky black eyebrows lifted. “Oh, I take that to mean her shit is that good?”
Lance felt a wave of heat creep up the back of his neck. In the past he’d never been hesitant to engage in sex talk with his male buddies, yet it was different now. Dina was different. She was the woman he would marry in another two months, and hopefully become the mother of his children.
“I’m not one to kiss and tell, but I have no complaints.”
“How about the lady?” Ronald asked. “Does she have any complaints?” He’d found Dina intriguing because he wanted nothing more than to sleep with her. He knew Karla would never agree to the arrangement, but that hadn’t stopped him from fantasizing about her.
Lance didn’t like the direction the conversation had taken. “Perhaps I should ask Karla if she has any complaints.”
“I can speak for my wife and say unequivocally no.”
“Then the answer would be the same for Dina.”
Cory, cognizant of the rising tension between his friend and their host, came to his feet. “Lance, I think I’ll take that brandy now.” He handed Lance the beer bottle. Waiting until he was alone with Ronald, he rounded on him. “What’s wrong with you, insulting the man in his own home?”
“I just asked him about his woman.”
“No, you didn’t. You wanted to know how she was in bed.”
Ronald drained his glass, set it on a table in the library, then stood up. “You need a vacation, Cumberland. You’re wound tighter than a guitar string. Karla and I plan to head up to our place near Bear Mountain for the Labor Day weekend. You and Sybil are welcome to join us.”
“I…I’ll let you know.”
“Are you okay, man?”
Cory massaged his forehead with his fingers. “I will be. I will be,” he repeated.
Lance returned to the library with two tumblers filled with the golden amber liquid, handing one to Cory. He touched glasses. “Cheers.”
Cory stared at Lance for several seconds before putting the glass to his mouth. “Cheers,” he whispered, taking a deep swallow. The heat spreading throughout his chest seemed to fill him with courage. “LL, whenever you have some time, I’d like to talk to you about something that’s business-related.”
Lance smiled. “You have my card. Call me early tomorrow morning.”
“How early?”
“Better yet, why don’t I call you? Perhaps we can meet for lunch or dinner.”
Cory felt as if a stone had been lifted off his chest. “I’d like that. Thanks, LL.”
“Excuse me, Big—LL?”
The three men turned at the sound of the dulcet feminine voice. Dina Gordon stood in the doorway to the library. She was the epitome of sophistication in a pair of tailored white slacks, a black silk blouse, strappy sandals and her hair pinned on the nape of her neck in an elaborate chignon.
Lance smiled. “Yes, baby girl?”
“May I see you for a moment?”
He nodded to Ronald, then Cory. “Please excuse me.”
They watched as he walked over to Dina and placed a protective arm around her waist as he leaned down to hear what she had to tell him.
Yes, both mused, Lance Haynes was really doing the damn thing.
CHAPTER 63
Dina knew she was taking a risk when she’d accepted the offer, but it was one she had to take. A man who’d seen her perform had slipped her a hundred dollars and his business card with a notation that he would pay her fifteen hundred dollars for a private performance. She never would’ve considered it if she’d had the twenty thousand Payne had demanded.
She’d sat on her bed and counted every single dollar she’d saved from her tips working at SJC Catering and her tenure as Sparkle. It added up to eighteen thousand seven hundred fifty-three dollars. Even if she closed out her savings account, she still wouldn’t have all the money.
The date on the calendar screamed silently at her. It was August thirty-first. Labor Day was four days away. Timing couldn’t be better, because Lance had gone to India for two weeks on business, Sybil had closed the catering hall to give the employees time off to spend the week and the holiday with their families and Karla and Ronald had invited the Cumberlands up to the New York mountain hideaway.
Reaching for her cell phone, she dialed a number, listening for a break in the connection. “This is Sparkle,” she said softly when hearing a man answer. “I will meet you at the hotel tomorrow. No money, no Sparkle.” Without waiting for a response, she ended the call.
Her client had suggested she come to his house, but she’d flipped the script, saying that she would make the arrangements. She planned to arrive at the hotel an hour before she was scheduled to perform, get into costume and makeup,
then wait for someone to contact her as to payment. Then and only then would she fulfill her end of the agreement.
Sparkle sat on the edge of the bed, tapping her feet. She sprang to her feet when she heard a knock on the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s the front desk, Ms. Gordon. I have a package for you.”
A bathrobe concealed her skimpy costume and a pair of oversize dark glasses the garish eye makeup as she made her way to the door. She opened it to find a young man dressed in hotel livery holding an envelope with her name and room number on it. She handed the man a tip while at the same time reaching for the envelope.
Dina closed the door and tore open the envelope, counting the money. It was all there. She hadn’t realized her hands were trembling until she attempted to return the bills to the envelope.
She’d done it!
She’d saved enough money to pay off Payne Jefferson.
At exactly eight o’clock she walked out of her room, knocked on the door several doors down the hall and came face-to-face with the man with a sallow complexion who’d given her his business card. She hadn’t remembered what he looked like because she never paid much attention to the men who came to Sybil’s private parties.
“You look different, Sparkle,” he said with a pronounced lisp.
Sparkle stared at him from behind her mask. “So do you.”
“How?”
A slight smile parted her rouged lips. “You’re more handsome than I remembered.”
He gave her a silly grin. “I like you, Sparkle.”
“And I like you, too, Mr. Wells. Did you bring the music?”
He nodded, pointing to a boom box in the corner. “It’s over there.”
Sparkle patted his cheek. “Let the music begin.”
His dark eyes were fixed on her chest. “Can you wait a few minutes?”
Sparkle lifted a bare shoulder. “It’s your dime, Mr. Wells. I can give you thirty minutes, and right now you’re on the clock.”
The door to the bathroom opened and two young girls with profusions of braided extensions fell over each other to get out. They couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen.
“What the hell is going on here?” Dina shouted.
“Wait, wait!” Mr. Wells sputtered, waving his hands. “These are my daughters. They told me they want to be dancers, so I told them I hired you so they can see your work.”
Dina stared at the girls, then their supposed father. “I’m sorry, I don’t entertain minors.”
“But Daddy,” wailed the feminine version of her father.
Mr. Wells looked as if he were going to cry. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your daughters?” Dina countered. “Good night, Mr. Wells. Contact me again when they’re over eighteen—no, make that twenty-one. Don’t worry about your money. I’ll return it to you, less expenses.”
“What expenses?”
“The cost of the room and the driver to bring me here and back. I’ll send you a money order in a couple of weeks. She gave him a long, lingering look. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out.”
She walked away from the eccentric family and into her own suite. Slowly, methodically, she took off the mask, shoes, bodysuit and tights. Dina took off the eye makeup, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Emotion nearly overwhelmed her when she realized Sparkle had just made her last appearance.
CHAPTER 64
Grand Central Station was teeming with people arriving and departing and those waiting to meet others. Dina Gordon was one of those waiting. She’d called Payne Jefferson and told him to meet her in the waiting room at exactly two o’clock. She’d gotten there at one, hoping Payne would arriver earlier than the appointed time.
She went completely still when she saw him weaving his way through the throng. He reminded her of a teenage boy with his baggy jeans, too-large white T-shirt and top-of-the line running shoes. A strap of a backpack was slung over one shoulder. Her eyebrows lifted when she noticed a fading bruise over his left eye.
Reaching into her handbag, she took out a manila envelope. “It’s all there.” He took it, unzipped the backpack and slipped it in. “We’re done, Payne. Over. And if I hear that you’ve gone anywhere near my grandmother or my daughter, I’ll make you sorry you ever drew breath.”
Payne reached for her left hand and stared at her ring. “It looks as if you’ve done well for yourself, Adina.”
She snatched her hand back. “Better than you think.” Her eyes narrowed. “Have a nice life, PJ.” Turning on her heels, she walked away and was swallowed up by the crowd.
Payne hadn’t thought she would come up with the money. And if she hadn’t, he still wouldn’t have done anything to her grandmother. He’d busted up Mrs. Jenkins’s place because Adina had ignored his pages. If she’d said she wanted out, then he would’ve let her out. Besides, he had several new recruits he’d been training to replace Adina. Not only was she getting old, but she’d become a risk. It was only a matter of time before she would be arrested and then the police would come looking for him. Bitches didn’t know when to keep their mouths shut.
What she didn’t know was that it was Payne Jefferson who’d put out the contract on Adina Jenkins. It was the only way he could get rid of her without having it traced back to him. She’d saved her own life when she’d fled Brooklyn.
He knew it would be a long time—if ever—before she would come back.
CHAPTER 65
It was a warm October Sunday morning when Dina Gordon exchanged vows with Lancelot Londell Haynes on the patio of the house belonging to Ronald and Karla King, with Judge Rhys Weichert presiding over the ceremony. Karla stood in as her matron of honor, and Lance had asked Cory to stand in as his best man.
The two men had begun a business relationship because Cory was in the process of starting up his own quality-assurance firm
Adele Haynes’s doctor wouldn’t permit her to fly given her advancing crippling arthritis, so Layne had informed his mother he was bringing his bride to Charleston, South Carolina, so she could meet her.
Pulling her to his chest, Lance kissed his wife, lifting her off her feet. “I love you, Mrs. Haynes.”
Dina tightened her arms around her husband’s neck and deepened the kiss. “And I love you, Mr. Haynes.”
A smattering of applause reminded them they weren’t alone. Turning, they accepted the good wishes from their friends.
Lance, resplendent in a navy-blue pin-striped suit, a platinum tie, a white shirt with French cuffs and black leather slip-ons, smiled down at his wife. She looked like a delicate doll with a simple silk platinum slip dress ending at the knee. She’d fashioned her hair in a twist on the nape of her neck, festooned with a large, fragrant orchid. Her small feet were encased in a pair of gray silk embroidered pumps. Her bouquet was a profusion of orchids, gardenias and baby roses.
The Kings had opened their home for the ceremony and Sybil had prepared the food for the small, intimate reception. Smiling, Lance accepted handshakes and pats on the back and Dina hugs and kisses.
Dina looped her hand over the sleeve of Lance’s jacket and smiled up at him. A photographer captured the moment for posterity. “I just remembered something,” she whispered.
“What is it?”
“I should’ve told Sybil to make a few honey-glazed doughnuts. You promised me I could let Honey Dip out of the closet on our wedding night.”
Shaking his head, Lance struggled not to laugh. “Do you know you almost killed me with that stunt?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did, baby girl.” He escorted her to a long table set up under a white tent decorated with white flowers and ribbons. “You’ve got to be careful with the old man.”
Dina rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re not old, Big Daddy. You’re going to be around for a long time, long enough to see our children married.”
She knew she’d changed when she considered mother hood. Dr. Howe
had given her the name of a fertility doctor who would harvest her eggs for an in-vitro-fertilization procedure.
She’d contemplated telling Lance everything about her past but decided to wait. She had time—they had time. In fact, they had the rest of their lives to learn not only to love but also to trust the other.
CHAPTER 66
Ronald King clicked the button to download the e-mail attachment addressed to him. The subject line read: Do they look familiar?
He usually didn’t check his personal e-mail for days, but because he was waiting for Karla to come home, he’d decided it was as good a time as any. A slight frown creased his forehead when the photographs popped up on the screen. Leaning closer, he clicked on the thumbnail and the photograph filled the screen.
A wave of heat, then chills, swept over him and Ronald thought he was having a heart attack. He clicked the next one, then the next, as bile rose in his throat and threatened to choke him. He couldn’t believe it! He didn’t want to believe it!
Twin emotions of rage and pain warred within him as he stared at the damning photographs. However, rage won out. He hit the forward icon, then scrolled through the directory for two other e-mail addresses. Gripping the mouse tightly, he pressed the button, forwarding the photographs. Then he leaned back in his chair to wait for his wife.
Karla walked into the house, confused. The house was dark. She’d had automatic timers that turned the lights on and off at different intervals. She knew Ronald was home because his truck was parked in the garage.
“Baby,” she called out as she flicked on lamps. She made her way into the home office. The light from the computer monitor shone eerily in the dark.
“Don’t turn on the light.”
“What’s wrong, Ronald? Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Rising from his chair, he touched the mouse and the screen was filled with images that almost brought Karla to her knees. “Where did you get those?”
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