Nothing to be concerned about.
“You’re shopping your emotions,” Corey suggested.
“You might be right,” she reluctantly agreed. “But there’s nothing wrong with me. I just need to find another way to channel my emotions.”
She slid back toward him with a wicked smile on her face.
Corey was immediately aroused by her actions, but there was still some caution on his face.
“I don’t think we’re done here, Erica.”
“You know,” she reached for the bottom of his polo shirt and tugged it ever so teasingly, “I like the way you came barging in here like that and pitching a fit.”
“I wasn’t pitching a fit.”
“Most men would back down when I pushed them away,” she continued, her hands now rubbing against his chest. “But not you. You didn’t let me intimidate you at all. That way you grabbed me and took charge of the situation. You got what you wanted.”
“Look, Erica,” he protested. “I think we should—”
She pressed her finger against his mouth. “But now, I’m gonna take charge and you’re gonna give me what I want.”
She looked deeply in his eyes as she moved forward. His lips were ready and eager for her kiss, but she backed away with a coy grin on her face.
“So you gonna play games now?” he asked.
She stood up from the sofa and positioned herself against him, her legs touching his thighs as he looked up at her. She slowly took the belt to her new plush cashmere bathrobe and undid it. The robe slid off the sexy, generous curves of her body, which was still shiny and wet from having just stepped out of the shower only seconds before he’d come over.
She smiled powerfully as she watched Corey drink in her figure and lick his lips. She wanted him so badly right now she could barely contain herself. And as he reached for her, grabbed her, and pulled her down to him, she felt a rush of heat consume her in anticipation of what was going to happen.
He kissed her hard and demanding and she returned his kiss with greed and possession. No, this was not a game. This was Erica’s new life. A life where she got what she wanted and when she wanted it. She was never going back to what it was before.
The condo appeared empty when Billie entered, calling out Michael’s name. He had never returned her call or picked up her phone message in the few minutes it took her to get here from Porter’s apartment. In that short time, her mind had gone in all kinds of directions trying to figure out what to do about Darina’s master plan.
Why else would she recruit Porter unless she was hoping he would help place a wedge between Billie and Michael, giving Darina the space she needed to get what she wanted?
There were a lot of questions, especially how she knew about Porter in the first place. Michael had spent time with her when Billie wasn’t around. Would he really have entrusted the story of his fiancée’s ex-husband to her during that time? Billie was feeling herself consumed with anger not just at Darina. She wanted to strangle Darina, but she was also mad at Michael for confiding in her about Billie’s past.
If, in fact, that was the case. She didn’t know. All she knew was that Darina was a scheming, manipulative bitch and Michael had to know about this before taking one step further in negotiating his relationship with her for the purpose of staying in Duncan’s life.
She called his name again, believing he had to be home. She’d seen his car outside their building, and aside from going to retrieve the blood test results, he had no plans today but to stay at home and get some work done.
When Billie tossed her purse on the chair right at the end of their hallway entrance, she noticed something on the kitchen counter. A phone. It was Michael’s phone, and as she reached it, she thought it was dead. But it wasn’t. It was only turned off. She pressed the power button and the phone, almost fully charged, came on. He had deliberately turned his phone off. He never did that.
Billie turned to head toward the bedroom, but something bright and green caught her eye. She turned to her left and noted the object on their living room sofa. It was all too familiar and she was shocked at the sight of it. Darina’s cheap Navajo-style purse with razzled frills at the edges was sitting right in the center of Billie’s living room sofa.
How could that be? Darina and Duncan had an 8:00 a.m. flight out of D.C. that morning. Billie had checked three times with Michael to make sure. What in the hell was her purse doing there?
Billie suddenly heard a sound and it was coming from her bedroom, their bedroom. The closing of a drawer? A shoe on the hardwood floor? Her heart stopped and she felt adrenaline rush through her at the speed of light. All of her senses were screaming to her and things began to feel a little unreal. She refused to give in to her fear. It couldn’t possibly be what her fear was whispering to her.
Billie rushed to the bedroom, grabbed the doorknob, and flung the door open. Her heart stopped as she witnessed the scene before her.
Michael was sitting on the edge of the right side of the bed. Shirtless and with bare legs, the fluffy white down comforter covering his midsection. Just as he turned to her, looking like a man awaking from a deep sleep, Billie turned to the left of the bed where Darina stood, in the last moments of wrapping the belt of her cinnamon brown wrap dress around her body.
Billie’s gasp was more of a desolated groan, eliciting the shock and pain at what she was witnessing before her.
“Billie?” Michael called her name as if he wasn’t sure that’s what it was.
“How could you?” she yelled at him.
Her shock quickly turned to pure, white-hot anger. She was boiling inside, but felt almost scared as if she was in the middle of a disaster and not sure what would hit her next.
“How could you?” she repeated, walking toward him. She wanted to strangle him.
“Um . . .” Michael looked around the room, as if trying to find something that could answer his question.
“Answer me!” she demanded. “You fucking asshole! You can’t even answer me!”
“Wait a second,” Michael cautioned, holding up his hand to her. “Calm down. Let me think.”
“Think?” Without thinking herself, Billie reached for the first thing she saw, a single shoe on the floor. She picked it up and threw it at him.
“Ouch!” he yelled as it hit him in the shoulder. “What are you doing? Calm down.”
“Calm down?” Billie couldn’t believe what was going on.
Was he really going to act like this? Like he didn’t really get what she was so angry about? Who was this man? How could he do this to her? How could she be so wrong?
Billie noticed that Darina was trying to wipe something off the nightstand next to her. She wiped it into her hand and tossed it in the garbage. For the first time, Billie noticed the smell of marijuana in the air. They had been smoking weed and making love in her bed! In their bed!
“You fucking bitch!” Billie yelled as she rushed over to her. “Get out of my home! Get out now!”
Darina didn’t smile. She frowned deeply, showing her true face, one of anger and resentment. “You better watch it, Billie. I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be, bitch. You fucked with the wrong woman!”
“I didn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to!” Darina insisted, slipping her feet into her shoes.
“Darina?” Michael was standing up now, fully naked, looking at both women. “Hold on a second, Billie.”
“Hold on?” she yelled. “You want me to hold on? How dare you? Both of you!”
She was so full of rage, she wanted to set the room on fire. Her head was spinning and her anguish was consuming her.
She took a step closer to Darina, a woman about four inches taller than her. “I said get the fuck out of my house, you hoe!”
Darina didn’t move and stared Billie down defiantly. “If you’re thinking about slapping me, you better think twice!”
“Bitch, I don’t slap!”
Billie clenched her fist
and with a fast right cross, she connected with Darina’s left cheek. Darina let out a pained scream as she stumbled backward against the wall.
“You bitch!” Darina yelled, holding her hand to her face as she tried to stand up straight again.
“You want more?” Billie asked, pushing her so she fell against the wall again. “I got more for you, you fucking slut!”
“Billie!” Michael was slowly coming up behind her, reaching out to her. “Stop.”
“Fuck you!” Billie yelled at him before turning back to Darina.
She grabbed the larger woman by the arm as tight as she could. Darina let out a sharp yell as Billie, with all of her strength, threw the woman forward. When she let go, Darina stumbled again, this time falling to the ground on her knees in front of Michael.
Michael looked down at her. “Darina, what are you doing?”
“Don’t try to blame this all on her!” Billie demanded. “I’m not falling for that shit!”
Darina reached for Michael to help her stand up, but he backed away. He stepped around her and started for Billie.
“Billie,” he pleaded, “I can explain all of this.”
He reached out to her, but she slapped his hand away and stepped away from him. She took two steps toward Darina, who had stood up now.
“You have two fucking seconds,” she warned.
“Go to hell, bitch!” Darina yelled before turning and running out of the bedroom.
Billie hurriedly followed her out and watched as she grabbed her purse off the sofa and rushed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. It wasn’t until that moment that Billie actually started crying. In a fraction of a second, her body began to feel the emotional pain and tears were streaming down her face. She was still angrier than hell, but was heartbroken.
“Billie, wait a second!” Michael, more aggressively than before, spoke as he stood in the doorway to the bedroom. “This isn’t what you think. I promise you.”
“Promise me?” She returned to face him.
He had grabbed the bed sheet and wrapped it around himself.
“You’re a lying, cheating asshole!” she yelled. “How could you do this to me? After everything! I thought I could trust you! You’re no different than Porter!”
“I’m not Porter!” he yelled. “I didn’t cheat on you, Billie!”
“I saw it with my own eyes!” she spat back, using the back of her hands to wipe her eyes, clouded with tears. “Don’t you fucking try that with me. I’ve been through this shit before! I’m not falling for it again!”
“This was Darina,” he accused. “It was—”
“It was both of you!” She rushed over to him. “That bitch is a whore, but you, Michael. I would have never thought you’d do this! You’ve ruined everything! Everything!”
She clenched her hands in fists and hit him in his bare chest several times, forcing him to back up into the bedroom.
Begging her to calm down, he grabbed her hands, using his strength to stop her. She tried to pull her hands away from him, but he held them tight.
“I didn’t do this!” he said. “Billie, please.”
“I hate you!” she yelled, her voice barely able to form full words as her emotions had crossed a threshold. She was not in control of her own body at this point.
“I hate you! I hate you!”
“Billie, please!”
“No!” she screamed and jerked her hands out of his grip. With all of her might, she pushed against his chest.
The force was only enough to make him take a step back, but it was all that was necessary. The bed sheet, which had been hanging to the floor, had gotten under his feet and he tripped over it. He fell backward, slamming against the ground, letting out a pained groan.
Billie didn’t waste another second. Unable to trust herself not to get more violent, she knew she had to get away from him. She wasn’t in any condition to drive, but she had to get out of there. She turned and rushed toward the door, grabbing her purse on the way. She felt like she was choking. She needed some air. She needed to breathe.
Once outside, she grabbed the railing that bordered the stairs to her building and leaned against it to keep herself up. Her knees felt weak and she wanted to throw up. She tried to inhale, but through her crying and choked tears, all she could do was cough.
She imagined the second he got some clothes on, Michael was going to come looking for her, so she used that to muster the strength to keep going. She’d gotten halfway down the block before she saw a bus stop and sat down. She fumbled through her purse, searching for her phone. She needed her girls. They were the only ones who could save her from her own insanity.
14
“You know you can pay the lady at the store to do this,” Justin said.
“It’s not the same,” Sherise responded. “Just find the scissors.”
Wrapping Christmas presents was a tedious thing, Sherise would admit to that. But with her enormous task ahead of her, she needed something tedious to do. It wasn’t so much a distraction because all she could talk about was her discovery of the real Stephen Northman and what she was going to do to get her job back and help him.
“Found them,” Justin proclaimed after sifting through discarded wrapping mistakes strewn across the floor of their den and pulling out a pair of scissors.
“Thanks.” She took them. “I’ll cut the paper and wrap. You do the bows. You’re wasting too much paper with your mistakes.”
“I didn’t want to do this at all,” Justin reminded her. “You’re the one who needs this tedious therapy. Both of the kids are sleeping. You know what I’d rather be doing.”
She rolled her eyes in response to his suggestive grin.
“Not right now.” She pointed to her head. “All of my energy is focused on one thing right now. I’ve gotta figure out what to do.”
Shaken from her conversation with Stephen, Sherise had rushed home to tell Justin. Her anxiety and doubt had only gotten stronger since. She was racking her brain trying to figure out what she could do, but was coming up blank.
“I’m scared,” she said. “It’s just not like me to . . . not know what to do. To not have a plan.”
Justin reached out and placed his hand on her thigh. “We’ll figure something out, baby.”
She looked at him with hope in her heart, but the look on his face told her what he really thought.
“You think it’s over, don’t you?” she asked.
He sighed, but shook his head, sending two separate messages. “I feel like it’s a dead-end situation for anyone. That is, anyone except you.”
She smiled, hoping he meant it. She needed his support. She needed his ideas. “I just feel like I’m cornered, like I’m trapped.”
“You’ve been there before,” he said. “We’ve been there before together and you’ve always saved yourself and us.”
“I won’t let Maurice do this to me or Jerry. None of us deserve this.”
“I don’t know,” Justin said. “I don’t think Stephen is suffering as much as he should.”
“He’s not the bad guy here,” Sherise said.
“He kind of is. He could have killed someone. He needs to be in rehab.”
“I know he does and I’ll get him there, but . . .”
“That’s not your job,” Justin interjected. “Baby, I get that you care about the kid and you’re grateful he told you the truth, but you don’t owe him anything. If it wasn’t for his criminal behavior, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“I know,” she agreed, “but I sort of blame Jerry more for that. He should have gotten Stephen help at the beginning instead of covering it up.”
“He’s an ambitious politician,” Justin said. “That’s what they do. They keep their own from dealing with the consequences that we all have to deal with every day.”
“He did what he had to in order to protect his child.” Sherise offered Justin the perfectly wrapped present. “We’d do the same for our little bits, wo
uldn’t we?”
He nodded. “Good point.”
Sherise stood up and walked a few steps over to the sofa, sitting down. “Everything I think of leads me to exposing what happened with Stephen in order to loosen Maurice’s grip on Jerry.”
“You can’t do that,” Justin told her. “He’d never forgive you for poisoning the beginning of his administration and for embarrassing his precious son.”
“There’s no way for me to do this without him eventually finding out what I know and why it’s happening,” she said. “At least I can’t think of any way.”
After placing the final ribbon on the present, Justin placed it down and got up, joining Sherise on the sofa. She leaned her head into his chest as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, baby, but I have to tell you how I feel.”
Sherise knew what was coming and wasn’t happy about it.
“Northman said it himself,” Justin continued. “Maybe the best plan is to wait it out. Press secretaries never last very long. Maurice wants the prestige of being the first. Once . . .”
“I know, I know,” she said. “Once the press starts hammering him with questions, making him do the actual job, he won’t want it anymore.”
“Then he’ll move on to something else,” Justin said. “You’ll get what you want. Not in the perfect way you wanted, but I think we’ve learned that there are many ways to get to the promised land.”
Sherise understood what he meant. He was referring to their marriage and the struggles and obstacles they’d faced. They had cheated on each other, lied to each other, and somehow found their way back to each other. They were happier, closer, and more in love than ever before. Sherise couldn’t be happier with her personal life now, despite the messy road it took to get here.
“You know I’m too stubborn for that,” she said. “If things had just happened the way that, you know, shit happens, maybe I could take sloppy seconds.”
Power, Seduction & Scandal Page 22