Let Me Love You (McClain Brothers Book 1)

by Alexandria House

  “Good. Your friend okay?”

  “Yeah, just drunk at the club wanting me to be there with her.”

  “You didn’t wanna go?”

  “Wasn’t in the mood tonight.”

  “You hit the club often?”

  “Every now and then. but I get tired of dudes trying to feel on me and stuff. Some of those guys are relentless. Like, they think you gotta be looking for a man just because you’re in a club. Rubbing all on your booty with their junk. Half the time, you have to yell at them to get them to back off.”

  “Damn, really? That’s fucked up.”

  “Yeah…”

  A loud silence settled over the phone line, an odd occurrence for us. Our conversations always flowed well. It felt super awkward.

  “Uh, Everett, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know…I was just thinking about you going to clubs and—shit. Look, you wanna be my lady? Like my girlfriend? I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I’d like for what we have to be exclusive.”

  I didn’t even think before I said, “Yes.”

  I could hear him blow out a breath. “All right. It’s official, then. Uh, I got a ton of promo to do for this album. I’m shooting a video with Bugz in a couple of days. Then rehearsals start for my tour. And then my tour starts. It might be a month before I get back out there to see you since I did all my LA promo before I left and my Cali shows are a ways down the road, at the end of the US leg of the tour. And even then, it might only be for a few hours. A day at the most.”

  “I know you have to work, so it’s all right. You really don’t owe me an explanation of how you spend your time, Everett.”

  “I thought we just established that I was your man.”

  “You are…”

  “Then I do owe you an explanation. I just want you to know this is work and I gotta do it, but what we’re building together is important to me. You’re important to me.”

  “I-I am?”

  “Yeah…and I really do miss you.”

  “I miss you, too, and I’ll be glad to see you whenever you can see me. I’m a patient woman.”

  “You’re too good to be true, baby. You know that?”

  I smiled. “That just means you gotta work hard to keep me.”

  “Shit, that’s what I’m tryna do. Talk to you later, Jo.”

  “‘Night, Everett.”

  14

  I was sitting on my sofa watching Nat play with a little tea set Ms. Sherry bought her and damn near fell off of it when my phone rang, because I was sure it was Everett calling. He had made a habit of calling me before I left for work in the morning and before he hit the stage in the evenings. I wasn’t trying to miss his call.

  “Hello!” I answered excitedly.

  “Hey, what you up to?” His voice sounded so good in my ear, I came close to melting right then and there.

  “Nothing, really. Watching Nat play with some new toys.”

  “Oh, you not watching Top Chef, Master Chef, Iron Chef, the Real Chef-wives of Atlanta, Love and Chef Hop, The Chef Ink Crew, The Chefdashians…”

  I smirked. “You see me a few times, talk to me on the phone every day for a couple of weeks, and you think you know me, huh?”

  “You saying I don’t?”

  “Tell me about myself then since you’re a Jo Walker expert now.”

  “A’ight. Your favorite color is blue, you love hip hop but you’re a hater when it comes to my music, you like food and cooking shows but can’t boil water, you’re a homebody and rarely go out, you don’t drink, Nat is the love of your life, and you try to play hard, but you like me.”

  “I actually can boil water, negro.”

  He chuckled into the phone. “Oh, for real? My bad.”

  “Mm-hmm, and I’m not playing hard. I told you I liked you.”

  “I know. Just wanted to hear you say it again.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So spoiled.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, I know you, too, Big South.”

  “A’ight, shoot.”

  “You like hip hop and you’re your own biggest fan, you like dressing up and going out, you love the spotlight, you love your daughter, you’re not particularly fond of the paparazzi but see their value as far as your career goes, you don’t give even half a damn what folks think about you and prefer to let them guess, you can’t cook, either, you do like to drink, you like—no, scratch that. You LOVE women, and have been with lots of them, tons of them, shit…scads of them, heaps of them, buckets of—”

  “I ain’t never told you I’ve been with tons of women.”

  “You didn’t have to. I’ve got eyes and ears. Seen the pics, the naked-assed evidence…”

  “So you tryna call me a ho’? I ain’t no ho’, Jo.”

  “If you say so…”

  “This is about the Sheena thing? Look, I haven’t been with another woman since then. Been too busy trying to get you to act right.”

  “So I’m supposed to believe you met me and the player in you just bowed down?”

  “No, you’re supposed to understand that I’ve never been a player. I’ve been with some women, yeah, but I never played anyone. They were mutual arrangements, just like ours. I give the respect that’s demanded of me. Some women are good with casual sex; some won’t settle for anything less than a commitment of some sort. I figured out from jump you weren’t someone who would be down for a purely physical relationship, and to be honest, I knew from the start that I wanted more than that with you anyway.”

  “You did? I mean, really?”

  “Yes, Jo. I pursued you with the intention of us having a future together, and that’s still my intention.”

  “Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll let me keep pursuing you.”

  “But aren’t we a couple now? I mean, if you’re my man, why would you need to keep pursuing me? You can’t pursue something that’s already yours.”

  Silence from Everett.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I asked.

  “No…you said—shit, Jo, what you just said makes me want to hop on a plane and fly to LA just to stand in front of you and hear you say it to my face.”

  “Say what?”

  “That you’re already mine.”

  “I am, and you’re more than welcome to hop on a plane and come see me whenever you want to. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Damn, girl. You messing my head completely up right now. I hate I have to leave for the venue, because I could stay on this phone and listen to you say this stuff all night. Man…thank you, Jo.”

  “For what?”

  “For confirming what I knew from the moment you chucked that necklace at me.”

  I leaned forward on the sofa. “I didn’t chuck anything at you!”

  “Shiiiiiid! I was like, does this woman play softball or something? You hit me right on my dick with it!”

  “Everett! No, I didn’t!”

  His laughter through the phone was so infectious, I was soon joining him. Nat gave me a curious look before laughing herself, even though she had no idea what was going on.

  “Whatever, Everett. What did I confirm?”

  “That you are the one thing I’ve been needing for a long time, and I don’t think I even realized I needed it until I met you. Gotta go. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye, Everett.”

  I ended the call and joined Nat on the floor, sipping imaginary tea and grinning from ear to ear.

  *****

  I was tired and frustrated and aggravated as hell. Nothing seemed to be going my way. After having to miss a couple of days of work because Nat was sick—and so was Ms. Sherry, and I didn’t have sense enough to have a backup babysitter—I was faced with Peter Park’s wrath. He sent me from one corner of LA to the other on errands for a full week, crowding my time at work with foolishness and making it nearly impossible to work on Everett’s piece, and I was having a hard enough time wit
h it without his bullshit making it even more difficult.

  Making jewelry by hand is complicated and tedious as hell, especially with the concept I’d conceived. It was taking me forever just to get the platinum casing to look like a damn E, let alone the butterfly wing. It had become painfully clear that my ass wasn’t an artist. By the third week of me working on it in the little snatches of time I could get when Peter Park wasn’t pulling me away, I was ready to give up, surrender, and admit that this career, like being a makeup artist, wasn’t for me.

  And besides my professional failures, after nearly three weeks of him being gone, I missed the hell out of Everett. Sure, we talked on the phone literally every day—sometimes for hours, other times for mere seconds—but I still missed him, his smile, his laugh, his kisses. It was like I was having withdrawals from a drug I’d only tried a couple of times. Everett was that potent. I was almost afraid to have sex with him if I was already this attached to him.

  It was a Tuesday, and I was feeling particularly down as I grabbed the sack holding Peter Park’s meat-only burrito and headed back into work. Just thinking about how much I missed Everett and how jacked up work was had me near tears, and to top it all off, before I could close my car door good, my phone rang with a call from the fool of the century. I stood next to my car for a second, took a deep breath, and answered it. “Hello?”

  “Hey, I just thought about something,” was his greeting.

  “What, Sid? And make it quick. I’m at work.”

  “You be fucking niggas in front of my baby, Jo?”

  I shook my head as I shut my car door with force and began stomping toward the building. “I don’t have time for this today.”

  “Answer me, Jo. Do you?”

  “Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Do you be fucking niggas?”

  “Okay, you wanna play today, huh? Let me find out, Jo. Let me find—”

  I hung up on his stupid ass and tucked my phone in my purse, ignoring its buzzing as I made my way to what was becoming my own personal hell hole. Oba, who was guarding the door, gave me this weird look as I breezed past him, and I almost dropped Peter Park’s burrito when I stepped into the lobby. Standing just on the inside of Bijou Park leaning against the wall with his head tilted to the side and his eyes on me was Everett.

  I fell into him so fast I think I startled him. He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me and said, “I missed you, too, baby.” Squeezing me closer to him, he added, “Yeah...I really missed you.”

  “You have no idea how much I missed you,” I said into his chest.

  He released me and gazed down at me with concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Just feels like I have nothing good going on in my life but Nat. Things are…never mind. I’m just glad you’re here. Wait—what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Indianapolis? Don’t you have a show there tonight?”

  “I’m here because I missed you.”

  “But your show…was it cancelled or something?”

  “No. I gotta be on a plane in two hours so I can make my show.”

  I frowned. “You flew here just to see me?”

  “Yeah. You had lunch?”

  I shook my head. “Of course not. Been too busy... not side-piecing.”

  “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “So damn mean,” he murmured, and then leaned in close to my ear, and said, “and sexy.”

  I whispered, “Really? How sexy?”

  “Keep playing.” Before I could process it, his lips were on mine, he was pulling my body against his, and his tongue had invaded my mouth. I moaned softly and heard someone clear their throat.

  Breaking away from Everett, I gave Freda and Tommy, who was sitting in front of her desk, a sheepish look. Hell, I’d forgotten we weren’t alone and that we were at my job just that quickly.

  “Hey, why don’t you go let Park know you’re going to lunch?” Everett suggested, pulling my attention back to him.

  “If he’ll let me,” I mumbled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing…be back.”

  I walked across the lobby, past the huge tank full of exotic fish that served as the focal point of the decor, and knocked on Mr. Park’s door.

  “Yeah!” he barked, the tone of his voice instantly telling me he was in a worse mood than when I left him.

  I eased the door open, and before I could utter a word, he lit into me.

  “About damn time, and it better not be cold! If it is, you’re gonna take your ass right back there and get me another one because I don’t eat microwaved shit!”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. It was a daily internal battle for me not to curse his ass completely out. Taking a deep breath, I opted not to speak, and instead, moved toward him, handing him the sack.

  He pulled the burrito out and placed it on his desk. “No cheese dip? You brought me a burrito with no cheese dip? Damn-it, Jo!”

  “Uh…you never mentioned cheese dip,” I said.

  “Do I have to tell you everything? Who the fuck eats a burrito without cheese dip?!”

  Shit, I do. “Mr.—”

  “Park!”

  I jumped at the sound of Everett’s voice. I’d closed the door behind me, but I was sure anyone within a ten-mile radius had heard Peter Park screaming at me.

  Mr. Park hopped up and rounded his desk, bumping into me on his way to Everett, extending a hand to him that he ignored. “South! I didn’t know you were here!” He cut his accusatory eyes at me. “What can I do for you?”

  I could see Everett clenching his jaw. “Stop screaming at my lady so I can take her to lunch.”

  Peter Park whipped around and looked at me with wide eyes, returned his attention to Everett, and uttered, “Uh…your—Jo?”

  Everett nodded.

  Mr. Park checked his watch and looked back at me again. “You haven’t been to lunch?”

  For real, motherfucker? “Um, no. I haven’t.”

  “Go! Go!” he said, stepping towards me and grabbing my arm. “Go—”

  “Hey, you need to chill with touching her like that. Matter of fact, don’t ever fucking touch her again. At all.”

  My eyes skirted over to Everett as Peter Park quickly dropped his hand.

  “Oh…sorry. Jo, go on to lunch. Uh, you know what? You can have the rest of the day off. With pay.”

  What? “But I need to work on Ev-Big...his piece,” I protested.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not in a hurry for you to finish it. Come on, let me feed you,” Everett said.

  I nodded and took his outstretched hand. When I thanked Peter Park for letting me leave early, Everett almost squeezed my hand to death.

  The walk to his car was silent, and the tension was palpable. Everett was obviously pissed about what he had heard, and I was beyond embarrassed. We were well on our way to…somewhere when he asked, “That motherfucker talk to you like that all the time?”

  I shook my head. “Only when he’s in a mood.” Which is eighty percent of the time.

  “Why don’t you quit?”

  I frowned as my eyes met his, which were trained on me as his arm rested on the windowsill of the car door, his finger on his bottom lip. “I-uh-working for him is a good opportunity. I’ve learned a lot. And I—shit, I don’t know, Everett. He’s mean, I hate him. I hate the job. I’m struggling to make your piece. I don’t even think this is the career I want anymore.” I basically vomited my words. I guess I needed to share my pent-up frustrations with someone, and since he’d asked, he was my victim of choice. “I honestly don’t know what I wanna do with my life. Well, that’s a lie. The only thing I’ve ever wanted to do was be a wife and mother, to have what I never had before—a real family. But that didn’t work, so I’ve gotta do something.”

  “But this? That motherfucker almost got dealt with back there. Jo, I’ve gotta work. Too many people depend on me for me
to start missing shows, but my mind can’t settle the fact that Park treats you like this and I feel some kind of way about leaving you knowing you work for his ass. I mean, is that as bad as it gets?”

  I shook my head. “No. It gets worse.”

  “Worse than him yelling at you?! He touch you? Hit you? Try to fuck you?” He looked like he was about to jump out of the moving SUV.

  “No—no! I mean, he can yell louder, use more foul language. Today is the first time he’s ever put a finger on me, and that was because you had him frazzled.”

  “He don’t wanna lose my business. His ass is scared now. Jo…why would you think it was okay to stay there and take that abuse? Is it that you need the money that bad? Baby, I’ll help you. I’d be glad to. I can’t deal with you being mistreated like this.”

  I didn’t need money. The child support and alimony Sid was court-ordered to pay covered me and Nat’s expenses and then some. Plus, the lump sum I received from the divorce was still sitting in the bank untouched. So, I honestly didn’t need money. I needed a purpose. I had hoped it was making jewelry, but I now realized that wasn’t it. I shared these thoughts with Everett.

  “Then quit,” he said.

  “And do what? Live off my ex’s money? He already—” I cut myself off. I’d dumped enough of my sad existence on him.

  “He already what? He bothering you?”

  “He’s just…being him. Look, before I got a job, I was losing it sitting around the house all the time.”

  “Okay, but who said you had to sit around the house? You could do stuff with your little girl, get to spend more time with her. I know you said you wanted to do that. We talked about that the other night. And you could take a class or something. Jo, you’re in a unique position a lot of women wish they were in. You’re financially able to do what you want. Shit, you could hit the road with me if you wanted to. Bring Nat with you.”

  I smiled as my heart swelled in my chest. “I don’t know if Nat is ready for the road, and I’m not quite ready to give up on my job yet. I want to at least finish your piece, but I appreciate what you’re saying.”

  “Jo, I don’t care if you never finish that piece. Shit, at this point, I don’t feel right giving Park any more of my money. I care about your wellbeing. That’s what’s important to me right now.”