“Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going to use me as an excuse to cut out early.” She dug through her small clutch and pulled out lipstick for a quick touch up. “I say go back in there, do what you do, and I’m going to hang out with Janice. I suddenly feel a little hungry.”
She air-kissed him and hurried away before he could touch her again. A little bit more and she would’ve taken him up on his offer to see his old bedroom.
Chapter Seventeen
Paul struggled to focus on what Senator Alfred Springs was saying as he spotted Martina the moment she stepped out of the kitchen. She roamed around the large great room, taking note of some of the art his parents had collected during their travels.
“My wife and I told your parents that we would be happy to host a fundraiser,” Alfred said pulling Paul’s attention back to the conversation. “I was glad to hear that you’re planning…”
Again, Paul’s gaze followed every move Martina made. A jab of possessiveness punched him in the gut. He wasn’t the only one looking. There wasn’t a man in the room, married or not, whose head didn’t turn when she walked pass. But who could blame them? Any red-blooded man would be defenseless seeing her in that dress.
She turned slightly, giving him a good view of her beautiful face. How many times had he dreamed about this moment, where she would attend a function with him, and he could claim her as his woman? The last few months had given him hope that his plans for the future were attainable.
A closer look at Martina and he could see that she still appeared a little flushed.
“Oh and with the sta—”
“Alfred, I’m sorry, but please excuse me. I need to go and check on my date.”
Paul walked away without giving the man a chance to say anything else. Half way to Martina his mother appeared out of nowhere and looped her arm through his.
“I need to talk to you.” Yeah, and he needed to talk to her, but first, he wanted to make sure Martina was okay.
“Mother, this will have to wait. I need to check on Martina.”
“This will only take a minute.”
She led him to the back hall that connected the main house with the pool house. The stark white ceiling and flooring were such a contrast to everything else in the home. Windows lined each side of the hallway, bringing the outdoors inside.
“What is this I hear about you not planning to do another term in the Senate? And you have no intention of running for president?”
Paul looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I told you and Dad on more than one occasion that I’m done with politics. Clearly, neither of you have been listening.”
“Nonsense,” she waved her hand as if swatting a fly, “you can’t be done with politics. This is who you are. Ever since your grandfather took you to the White House, you said you were going to be president.”
“Mother, I was six. Plans and dreams change.” He didn’t bother mentioning his restaurant ideas. He’d be wasting his time. “I’m done living my life for you and dad. I should have gotten out of politics years ago.” Instead, he lived an unfulfilled life in order to live up to the family’s expectations. Those days were over.
His mother stood speechless as if she didn’t understand what he was telling her.
“What will you do? No wait. It’s that woman isn’t it? I don’t understand why you brought her to this party instead of escorting Antoinette. What were you thinking? She’s not right for you and—”
“And you need to stop right there!” Paul seethed. “I let you get away with looking at her as if she was some second class citizen when we first arrived, because I didn’t want to make a scene. But you need to understand. That woman that you’re badmouthing is the woman I plan to marry one day. So if you can’t show her some respect, not only will you not have to worry about her coming back, but you’ll never see me again either.”
“Paul Kendricks Jr.!” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I will not tolerate you speaking to me like that! I’m sorry if I offended that woman, but she’s classless, this is an all-black affair, and the hussy wore red.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “What’s the big deal? You have on red.”
“But dear, I’m the hostess and besides that’s not the point. I want you to stop telling people that you’re done with politics. The last thing I need is for the media to catch wind of this before I have a chance to change—”
“Stop.” Paul shook his head. Why was he even bothering? “I originally planned to announce to your entire group in there my political plans—”
“You will do no such thing! I will not have you embarrass your father and I this evening with this nonsense. You will not sully the Kendricks family legacy.”
“Fine. They can find out like everyone else at my press conference.” He turned to walk away, but stopped when she grabbed hold of the back of his tuxedo jacket.
“Paul … let’s calm down. I didn’t call you out here to upset you. I don’t want us arguing tonight. Why don’t we go back to the party and try to enjoy the rest of the evening?”
His mother held onto his arm as they strolled back inside.
“Oh, did you get a chance to speak to Antoinette this evening? You must say hello. She looks absolutely stunning and appropriate in her black evening gown.”
Paul shook his head and sighed.
I quit.
*
Martina stood in front of the bathroom mirror and dabbed at the perspiration on her forehead. She’d felt warm all night. At first she assumed the heat in the home was up high. Now she wondered if she was coming down with something.
They had been at the party a couple of hours, more than enough time for Paul to mingle with the guest. A few minutes ago, she had seen him heading in her direction, but he’d been intercepted by three older gentlemen. She waited, hoping the conversation would be quick, but no such luck. Whatever they were discussing seemed as if it would take a while.
Martina rinsed her hands in the sink, finally ready to head home and get out of those ridiculous heels. Her cousin, Jada could walk all day in the mall in heels twice as high all for the sake of looking cute. Admittedly, the shoes were cute, but after a couple hours, it was time to get out of them. They were killing her feet.
She quickly dried her hands and exited the bathroom. Paul’s mother glided toward her.
Oh great. The last person I want to see.
All night the woman had been looking at her as if she were a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of her Louboutins.
So far Angelica hadn’t said much to Martina. Really, she hadn’t said anything. It was the various glares she’d lobbed across the room that said she didn’t want Martina there.
“Did my son mention to you that this was an all-black party - meaning everyone was to wear black?”
“Yes he did,” Martina answered. She let her gaze slide over Paul’s mother before making eye contact again. “But like you, I march to my own beat.”
Mrs. Kendricks gasped, her hand covering her chest and eyes blinking rapidly in shock.
Martina wanted to laugh at her dramatic reaction but held back.
“I’m familiar with your grandparents,” Angelica huffed. “Surely they don’t condone this type of behavior.”
Oh, crap. Why’d she have to mention them?
“No they don’t,” Martina finally said, feeling duly chastised. She should have kept her previous response short and sweet, but no, she had to go there. Being tired and finally a little hungry wasn’t helping.
“Well, I don’t tolerate that type of behavior either. As a matter of fact, I should insist you leave.”
Anger swelled inside of Martina and her hands fisted at her sides. She ground her teeth together, fighting to keep her mouth closed, but knowing it was a losing battle.
Her grandmother’s speech about respect swirled inside of her head. Martina hesitated before speaking, trying to choose her words carefully.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Ke
ndricks if you feel that I’ve disrespected you. But you’ve been giving me the side-eye since I walked through those double doors, but that’s okay. I honestly don’t care what you think of me though there’s something you should know. I love your son. He is an incredible man and the best thing that has ever happened to me. So we can either try to get along for his sake … or not. It’s your choice, but right now, I’m not doing this with you. I’m going to find my man.”
Martina turned too quick on her too-high heels and stumbled, but quickly righted herself with the help of the wall.
Shoulders back, head up, Jada had coached. Walk like you own the place.
Feeling the daggers through her back from Paul’s mother’s gaze, Martina kept it moving. It was time for her and Paul to make their exit, before she forgot all of her home training.
Chapter Eighteen
Three days after the Kendrick’s party, Martina sat in her mother’s kitchen, finally ready to make amends. She had put the conversation off long enough. Dealing with Angelica Kendricks made her realize that the problem between her and her mother could be fixed. As for Paul and his mother, Martina wasn’t so sure.
Her heart went out to him. On their way home from the party, he had told her about the conversation with Angelica. Martina felt his disappointment in his mother deep in her soul, but had no idea what to say to him. All she could do going forward was to support his decisions and his dream of opening a restaurant.
“Are you sure I can’t get you something else?” Martina’s mother asked when she walked back into the kitchen. “Soup, maybe?”
“No, the ginger ale is good. I guess my two chili dogs, onion rings and the macaroni salad I had for lunch today didn’t mix well. And Blaine’s girlfriend brought some cute little pecan pies out to the job site during our afternoon break. Oh, my goodness, they were incredible. I think I had three too many. Now that I think about it, that combination of food in one day, probably wasn’t a good idea.”
Her mother laughed and a warm feeling flowed through Martina, glad she could put the smile on Carolyn’s face. How many times had they argued about one thing or another? The mother daughter relationship had gotten so bad at times that the family tried keeping them apart, especially during Sunday brunch.
“Sometimes you scare me in how much alike we are. Your lunch sounds almost identical to mine, except I had two regular hot dogs, garlic fries and a humongous chunk of sweet potato pie.”
Their healthy appetite and cast iron stomach was definitely something they had in common. Martina inherited her mother’s metabolism as well. Carolyn was a perfect size six despite the way she put away food.
“Hopefully, your stomach is handling your meal better than mine,” Martina said, rubbing her belly as if that would ease some of the nausea. “It feels as if there’s a tidal wave crashing inside of me tossing my organs around.”
They shared another laugh then sat in silence until Carolyn spoke.
“I guess your grandmother was right. We are a lot alike.” Carolyn sat in the chair across from Martina. “By the way, you weren’t the only one who received a speech from Momma. The day after she talked to you, she gave me an ear full.”
“Tell me your talk wasn’t as painfully honest as the one she gave me.”
“Oh but it was. It was probably worse. However, I needed to hear everything she had to say.”
“Mom, I’m sorry for my jacked-up attitude all of these years. I know an apology this late in the game isn’t much, but I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you. Nor should I have disrespected you the way that I did.”
“I deserved it, MJ,” Carolyn said without hesitation. “I should have been straight with you from day one about your father … about everything. If you want to meet him, I can—”
“I don’t. He’s dead to me,” Martina said without emotion. What little she knew about the man, she didn’t like. Her grandparents were good judges of character and if they hadn’t seen fit for her to get to know him from day one, she trusted their decision. Besides, meeting him now wouldn’t benefit anyone as far as she was concerned.
“Okay,” her mother said slowly, as if waiting to see if Martina was going to say more. When Martina didn’t, she continued. “I also should’ve tried harder to connect with you, but I was too ashamed. I made so many mistakes on so many different levels over the years. You had every right to feel the way you did about me, especially since I didn’t try harder to be a good mother.”
“And I know I didn’t make it easy.”
Martina had made her share of mistakes as an adult and hadn’t considered that her mother was just a woman, trying to figure life out like everyone else. It was so easy to put her in a certain category and expect her to behave the way Martina thought a mother should behave. But she shouldn’t have judged her, especially since she hadn’t known what all her mother had gone through.
“I’m sure we could go back and forth on who’s the one most at fault for our broken relationship. Why don’t we call it even?” Carolyn said.
“Works for me.”
Her mother lifted a finger. “I have one condition.”
Martina laughed remembering a conversation with Paul. “In the words of my man, I’m not negotiating for love. We either hug, and make up, or we don’t.” They both laughed, and Carolyn pulled Martina up and into her arms.
“I love you, baby.” She placed a kiss against her hair.
Martina held on tight. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed her mother to hug her. It felt good. Real good.
“I love you too, Mom.”
“Speaking of your man. Tell me about him. Do you think he’s the one?”
They talked and laughed, comparing dating horror stories. Martina knew they would never get back the years they had lost, but she had every intention of making the rest of the years the best she could make them.
*
When his doorbell rang, Paul turned down the heat under the bacon and went to the door, Charlie hot on his heels.
“Sit.” Paul pointed to the floor just inside the front door. For the past few weeks, Charlie had spent more time with his sister and her family than he had with Paul. His nieces wanted to keep him all the time, but Paul was thinking about getting them a puppy of their own for Christmas.
Paul opened the door for Davion, who walked in with a carton of orange juice.
“This is my contribution to breakfast this fine Sunday morning.” He shook out of his coat and tossed it on a nearby chair before ruffling Charlie’s fur. “What’s up, boy? I haven’t seen you for a while.”
“Come on back. I’m in the kitchen.”
Davion made a beeline for the half bathroom to wash his hands, and when he stepped into the kitchen, he said, “I’m not interrupting breakfast with you and your baby by not calling first am I?”
“Fine time to ask. You’re here now.” Paul turned the bacon. Since being back together, Martina had been spending most of her days at his place, whether he was in town or not. He loved having her around.
“I’m glad you stopped by. I might have gotten a little carried away with breakfast.” Paul had cooked as if he were expecting a basketball team.
“Oh good, you made chocolate chip pancakes. I was hoping for more than just hash browns, bacon, and eggs.”
“For a person who can’t cook a lick, you sure are demanding.” Paul pulled down plates, glasses, and a couple of coffee mugs. “Dig in.”
“So where’s MJ?”
“She’s at her house meeting with a realtor.” Paul told him about how Martina flips houses. She never ceased to impress him. If he wasn’t mistaken, this was the third house she’d done in five years with a desire to do more.
“So her selling her home might feed right into your plans of making an honest woman out of her. When are you going to pop the question?”
“Soon.” Paul had no doubt that she was the woman for him, but Martina was still a little skittish. He knew she loved h
im. She was all in as far as them going public with their relationship, but he had to tread lightly when it came to the subject of marriage.
“Is Aunt Angelica still giving you the silent treatment?”
“Yep. Three weeks and she acts as if I stole one of her fur coats. Myra had me drop the kids off over there a couple of days ago, and I figured that my mother and I could talk through our differences. Wrong. All of her attention was on the kids, and she pretended as if I weren’t there.”
Davion chuckled. “Unbelievable. She acts as if the sun rises and sets on her grandchildren, but with you and your sisters, it’s another story.”
“I know, right? I can’t ever remember her or my father spending that much time with us. Granted, they were trying to build their legacy, according to my father, but it was at the sacrifice of building a relationship with us. I’m sure that has something to do with why Kacy only comes to town once or twice a year.” His sister and her family lived in Los Angeles and usually only visited Ohio in the summer, if then.
“I’m still shocked your mom and MJ had words. Then again, neither one of them could ever be accused of keeping their thoughts to themselves.” Davion laughed. “I just wished I’d been there.”
“Yeah, me too.” Paul wished he had been there for other reasons. Martina didn’t tell him about her encounter with his mother until they had left the Kendricks’ estate. Paul wanted to turn back around, but Martina insisted that it had been handled. She warned him that there might be some backlash, but he wasn’t concerned with the repercussions. He hated that she had to deal with his mother alone. He should have kept Martina close, protected her from his mother. However, knowing Martina, his mother might have been the one who needed shielding.
A smile spread across his lips. Martina was a fighter. Not so much physically, but her words could cut a person down with little or no effort on her part. He had been on the receiving end of her verbal beat-downs on more than one occasion.
Yep, she is definitely more than capable of fighting her battles.
Negotiating for Love Page 16