by Stacy-Deanne
She looked at him. “I still do.”
“Really? You just looked me in my face and said you’d be willing to lose our marriage to have a baby.”
“I don’t want that to happen.” A tear fell. “But you knew how much this meant to me. You knew it from the beginning.”
He snatched up his briefcase. “Just like I knew you’d always pick me over anything else?”
“David.” She stood.
“I meant it when I said I can’t do this anymore, Val. I can’t keep fighting with you, and I can’t keep on being ignored. And right now…” His eyes filled with tears. “I can’t stand to even be in this house.”
He left the room and she rushed after him. “David?!... David!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Here you go.” The waitress poured more sweet tea into Layla’s glass. “Would you like anything else?”
“That’s fine.” Layla twirled her fork around in her spaghetti. “Thank you so much.”
The waitress smiled and went to the table behind them.
“Okay, come on and guess who I had the monster crush on when I was in school.” Cross chewed ravioli.
“I thought I named everyone I could think of.” She wiggled in the seat, savoring the hearty spaghetti. “You said she was huge in the eighties, blonde, and had a great body.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He tore off a piece of garlic bread. She shrugged. “Madonna.”
“Nope.” He pointed his fork to her. “Here’s another hint. She’s very tall. She was married to an eighties heartthrob twice.”
“Jeez, now I gotta guess who the guy is?” Layla dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Still I’m getting Madonna. She was married to Sean Penn, and he was definitely a heartthrob.”
“Enough with Madonna.” He tapped the table. “The guy had a hit eighties TV show. It was a cop show.” He waved his fork. “Not the conventional type cop show. Made for the MTV crowd.”
“Oh!” She jiggled.
The woman at the table beside them glanced up.
Layla pointed across the table. “Don Johnson?”
“Yes!” Cross hit the table. “Now who was he married to twice?”
“Melanie Griffith!” She snapped her fingers and guffawed. “You had a crush on Melanie Griffith?”
“God yes.” He sipped from his glass of icy, sweet tea. “I was practically obsessed with her. She was beautiful and stylish. I loved her voice.”
Layla dipped up more spaghetti.
“I never would’ve guessed Melanie Griffith.” She chewed the pasta. “When did you stop liking her?”
“When her face started looking like a balloon.”
“Cross.” She reached over and hit his hand. “That’s not nice.” She laughed.
“It’s true. If only she aged gracefully. I hate how these beautiful women in Hollywood act like they gotta go under the knife to compete. Melanie was a goddess. She didn’t need all that shit.”
“I don’t agree with plastic surgery either.” Layla lifted her glass. “I’m not knocking other people’s decisions. But unless it’s for a car accident victim or someone who’s been severely burned, I find it kind of vain.”
“I don’t like it because the majority of people who’ve had it looked ten times better before they did it. What’s wrong with just getting old and accepting it?” He glanced around the restaurant. “I don’t worry about getting older.”
“You don’t have to, you’re a man.” She chuckled. “Society is a lot more tolerant toward old men than old women.”
He smirked, “You might have a point there.”
“I know I do.” She snapped her fingers and laughed. “Now it’s your turn. Bet you can’t guess who I had a crush on for…”
“Sean Penn.” He sipped tea.
“How did you know?”
“The way your face lit up just now when you spoke about him.” He ate a piece of bread.
“Am I wrong?”
“No.” She laughed. “I had a huge crush on Sean for years.” She looked away from him. “My preference is white guys. I always dated them until Patrick.”
Cross licked his lips. “That’s interesting.”
She nibbled on her lip. “What’s your preference?”
“I don’t have a preference. Just give me a halfway-decent looking chick who’s breathing, and I’m fine.”
She burst out laughing. “Stop.” She covered her mouth. “You’re gonna make me spit out my food.”
“What you really wanted to ask me is if I’ve dated a black woman before.” He leaned forward. “Right?”
“Have you?” She put her fork down.
“Yes, I have.”
She smiled. “I…”
Patrick walked through the glass door of the bistro, followed by an attractive, petite, dark-skinned woman with short hair. He stood aside and guided the woman in front of him. His eyes locked on Layla. She dropped her gaze to her plate.
“What is it?” Cross turned around then faced Layla. “As big as Houston is, who would think we’d run into him of all people?”
Patrick and the lady sat in a booth while a waiter took their orders.
“Layla?” Cross patted her hand. “You okay?”
“Huh?” She tore her eyes away from them. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe him. He claims he still wants me back, but he is having dinner with another woman?”
The lady giggled at something Patrick said.
“What the hell is so funny?” Layla muttered. “He wouldn’t know a good joke to save his life.” She caught Cross’ stern expression. “Wait.” She took his hand. “I’m not jealous or anything. I swear I don’t care who he’s with.”
“It’s natural to be jealous, even if you don’t want to be with him.”
“I’m not, Cross.” She let his hand go. “I guess it is a little shocking to see him with another woman.”
“You wanna go?” Cross gestured to his plate. “I’m done here anyway.”
“No.” Layla watched Patrick. “We were here first. Besides if we leave, he’ll think it’s because he got to me. I want him to know that he hasn’t.” She took her napkin out of her lap and laid it on the table. “I gotta go to the bathroom to check my makeup.”
“No you don’t.” Cross drank tea. “You couldn’t look more gorgeous if you tried.”
She smiled as she told him, “I’ll be right back.”
Layla walked across the restaurant and turned the corner toward the men’s and women’s restrooms. As she pushed on the door to the women’s room, someone pulled her back. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” Patrick smiled so big she could see every tooth.
She pulled away from him. “Let go of me!”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Don’t be like that? So you want me back? I’m supposed to believe that, and you’re out here with another woman?”
“What do you care? Thought you didn’t want me.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I see you and Cross are all cozy as usual. Is this where he brings you for a date? This cheap-ass place?”
“Excuse me?” She pointed past him. “Isn’t this where you and your date are having dinner?”
“She’s not my date, for your information.”
“Then what is she?”
“She’s a new accountant the firm has hired. I’m working with her to show her the ropes.”
She crossed her arms. “I bet.”
“We worked late, and we decided to ride through and get some dinner. She happens to like this place.”
“Patrick…”
“Nothing is going on, Layla.” He pointed behind him. “If you don’t believe me, then you can go ask her yourself.”
“That’s not necessary, because I don’t care.”
“Right.” He moved closer to her. “That’s why you’re jealous? Because you don’t care?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“And you don’t have to be.” He put his arm around her waist. “The only woma
n I want is you.”
“Stop it.” She wiggled from his hold. “I’m not your wife anymore.”
“You’ll always be my wife to me.” He lowered his head to kiss her.
She turned her head and shoved him away. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”
He put his hand on the door to stop her from opening it. “Lay.”
“Get outta my face, Patrick.”
“You know how hard it is to contain myself right now?” He sniffed her hair. “With you wearing that suit and that perfume? You know how much I love you in this suit.”
“Move.” She slapped his hand off the door.
He pulled her to him again. “You have no idea how much I miss you.”
“I do, and I don’t care!” She pushed him. “It’s over, Patrick.”
“It’ll never be over for me. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was a fool for taking you for granted.” He took her hands. “I love you, Layla. Please give me another chance to show you how much.”
“I don’t want you anymore. What do I have to do to make you believe it?”
He stood back. “Nothing, because I know its bullshit.”
“Forget this.” She shoved him aside and walked out of the restroom area. She made it back to her table. “I wanna leave.”
“Are you all right?” Cross stood. “Thought you wanted to stay.”
“I changed my mind.” She pulled her purse strap on her shoulder. “I can’t stand to be in the same building with Patrick right now.”
She marched past tables, glanced at Patrick, and walked out of the bistro. Cross ran out behind her.
“You’re not okay. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
She swung her arms as she marched down the sidewalk.
They stopped at his car. He got out his keys and unlocked the car with the remote. “I hate we have to leave because of him,” Cross told her as he held the door open.
Layla got into the passenger’s seat, saying, “Its okay.”
Cross slid in beside her and closed the door. “You don’t wanna go home, do you?”
“Are you kidding?” She looked at her watch. “It’s not even nine yet. You promised me some fun, so I wanna have some fun.” She put her seatbelt on. “I deserve it.”
“All right.” He put the key in the ignition and started the car. “If fun is what you want, fun is what you’ll get. I hope you like to sing.”
“Hope I like to sing?” She gasped. “I can’t sing to save my life.”
“You will tonight.”
“What? Where are you taking me?”
He winked and took off down the street.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“It’s hard to explain, Momma.” Corrine sat upstairs in her bed with the phone to her ear. “I guess when a woman gets to be my age, she starts analyzing what she has and doesn’t have. It’s depressing.”
“This doesn’t even sound like you, sweetie. You’re always so confident and sure of yourself. That’s what makes you, you.”
“I don’t know why, but for the last few weeks I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I have a great job, I live in a beautiful home, and I’m healthy.” She grabbed the pillow beside her and held it to her chest. “Other than that, I have nothing.”
“That’s not true. You have me and your entire family.”
“That’s not what I mean.” She groaned. “I don’t have anyone who belongs only to me in my life. I don’t have any friends. I don’t have a man.” She propped her legs up under the sheets. “Maybe I deserve being miserable.”
“Don’t say that.”
“This could be payback for all the dirt I did when I was younger.”
“But you’re not like that anymore.”
“Still doesn’t mean I don’t have to pay for what I did. Like they say…karma’s a bitch.”
“If you want a man, Corrine, I know twenty of them that beg me to hook you up with them on a regular basis.”
“I don’t want any more hookups, Momma.” She moved the pillow. “I’m too old for hookups. I want what Layla had and what Valerie still has. I want marriage and maybe kids.”
“Marriage and kids?” Vanessa exhaled. “I thought after that last so-called relationship—that I won’t speak of—you didn’t want to get into anything serious.”
“I’m tired of coming home and being alone.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I’m tired of not having anyone to share my deepest thoughts with or to share my bed. I know I did some bad things to Val growing up, but I was just acting out because I didn’t know how to deal with Daddy’s schizophrenia and his suicide.”
“Yeah,” Vanessa whispered.
“I just wanna move on and start fresh. I want to have the white picket fence and the husband. I want all of that.”
“Then you can have it, honey.”
“I can’t have anything until I make things right with Val once and for all. We can’t keep going like this.”
“I agree. We can’t have this kind of fighting in the family. If you don’t have family, then you have nothing.”
“I know that now.” Corrine caressed the pillow. “Momma, you don’t believe that I purposely pushed Val down the stairs and—”
“Don’t even say it. Of course I don’t believe it.”
“I wish Val would see that. I’m willing to make amends if she’d forget all this other crap. The ball’s gonna be in her court though.”
The doorbell rang.
She got out of bed and grabbed her robe. “Someone’s at my door, Momma.”
“Is everything okay?” Vanessa asked.
Corrine looked out the window. David’s car sat in the driveway.
“Shit,” Corrine whispered.
“What?” Vanessa asked.
“I guess if I’m gonna start everything off fresh, I’ve got something major to take care of. I’ll call you soon, Momma.”
“Okay, I love you. Please, cheer up.”
The doorbell rang again.
“I love you too, Momma.”
Corrine hung up and laid her cell phone beside her bed. She closed her robe, slipped on her house shoes, and went downstairs. She turned on the front hallway light and opened the door.
“Hey.” David leaned against the doorframe, looking at her as if she were naked.
“David.” She held her robe closed. “What are you doing here? I was in bed.”
He stood up straight. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
She sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”
“Hold on.” He chuckled. “I had a few drinks at a bar. I’m not drunk. I wouldn’t drive drunk. You know that. May I come in?”
“I don’t know.” She looked back into the house. “Not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“You acted like it was a good idea before.”
He walked in without her invitation. She cursed to herself and closed the door. “I gotta work tomorrow, as I’m sure you do.”
“Your broadcast isn’t until tomorrow night.” He stood close to her, smirking. “And I’m debating whether or not I wanna go to work at all tomorrow.”
“You claim you have that big marketing campaign coming up. Shouldn’t that be your main concern?”
“I’m tired of worrying about shit all the time, Corrine.” He leaned against the wall. “I know you feel the same way.” He looked at her cleavage.
She laid her hand over it.
“We’re connected.” He sniffed her. “You smell good as always.”
She backed away. “David.”
“Like I said, we have a connection, Corrine. I’ve been thinking long and hard about this. Get it?” He held his hands out as if to measure something. “Long and hard,” he emphasized with a chuckle.
“You say you’re not drunk, but you’re sure as hell not all here.”
“No, no, no.” He took her hand with a dazed look. “I’m here, Corrine. I’m finally here, and that’s what you wanted all along isn’t it?”
He grabbed her and kissed her.
She shoved him. “David!” Then she slapped him. “How dare you?” she asked as she went over and stood by the door. “I think you should go.”
“Go?” His astonished expression turned into amusement. “Oh I see. You’re gonna play hard to get now?”
“I’m not playing anything. I’m serious.” She pointed to the door. “You need to leave.”
“What?” He seemed to come to his senses as if someone had flipped a switch. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me.”
“I do want you, David. I’m even in love with you.”
“Then why are you pulling away?”
“Because I can’t do this, and you can’t either. This isn’t you, David. You know you love Val.”
“I’m sick of Val.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m sick of the fighting and having to beg for attention. Do you know what she did? She went behind my back and set up an appointment to talk to Dr. Seun when I told her ‘no.’ Who does that?”
“A woman desperate to have a child.” Corrine crossed her arms. “A woman desperate to be loved and who feels she needs someone around to feel important. I know the feeling.”
“Why do I feel like you’re accusing me of something, Corrine?”
“Rarely is it just one person’s fault when a relationship starts crumbling, David.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
David peered at Corrine.
“Since when are you Val’s cheerleader?” He reached for her. “Is this some act you’re playing so you won’t feel guilty in the morning?”
“Believe me…” She pushed his hand away. “I won’t have anything to feel guilty about in the morning, but you will when you’re sober and realize you made a pass at me.”
“I need someone tonight, Corrine.” He groaned. “You said you’d be there for me whenever.”
“And I meant it at the time.”
“At the time?” He cocked his head to the side. “You don’t even sound like yourself.”
“I’ve just realized that I gotta stop wanting men I can’t have.”
“You can have me, Corrine.” He touched her cheek. “Believe me you can.”