by Donna Hill
“I’m going to kiss you. I want to see what that’s like.”
And he did, slow, tender and long as if he’d loved her all his life and finally had the chance to show it. Stephanie felt herself melting into the comfort and security of his embrace, giving herself up to the sensual kiss.
She didn’t protest when he cupped her behind and pulled her closer. She didn’t stop him when he unbuttoned her blouse and loosened her bra. She didn’t say “no” when he backed her onto the couch and hiked up her skirt. She didn’t push him away when he removed her panties and pleasured her until she trembled. She didn’t say “we can’t” when she felt him enter her.
Instead, she thought about what “no,” “stop,” “we can’t,” would do to her career. Instead, she thought about how good he was making her feel. Instead, she thought that maybe he really did care, that maybe he would leave his wife and kids, that maybe he’d marry her and she’d never have to worry about how she would take care of Samantha.
So she gave him what he wanted and what she needed—time and time and time again.
When she focused, she was the only one left on the elevator. The doors were just about to close when she hurried off.
Her eyes burned as she fought back tears of regret and shame. Walking quickly with her head down, she went to the employees parking garage and got into her car. For several moments she sat behind the wheel taking deep breaths in the hope that it would quell the sinking sensation she had in the pit of her stomach.
She had to find a way out of this pit she’d fallen into. This was not who she was, no matter what Ann Marie thought or said. Sure, she may have played up her associations with celebrities and high-octane executives, but it was all smoke and mirrors. She’d dated them but she’d never bedded them. It was all for show and her twisted way of making herself appear important and wanted just like her friends. Ellie had her husband and her kids to brag about, Ann Marie had her man and Barbara had Marvin until he passed. All she had was her fancy job and a secret sister. But who would believe her now, especially after her confession to the girls about Conrad?
Stephanie put her car in gear and headed out of the garage. Put on a happy face, she told herself as she snatched a glance of her reflection in the mirror. The girls were waiting.
Chapter 18
Ann Marie darted from the real-estate office where she worked. She wanted to go home before her meeting with Barbara, Ellie and Stephanie—if Stephanie showed up—and change clothes.
She was feeling content and quite smug about putting together the potential deal. True, the building she had her eye on needed a ton of work, but the end results would be well worth it. It had always been a dream of hers to own a business. She made a pretty penny as a broker, but there was nothing like raking in the bucks for yourself.
As her luck would have it, she found a parking space right in front of her door. Her mood lifted another notch, that is until she put her key in the door and her real reality was there to greet her.
She put her leather portfolio down on the table in the foyer. Tugging in a breath, she walked inside. Water was running in the kitchen. She headed in that direction.
When she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, Raquel was at the sink washing dishing. For a moment, Ann Marie stood there watching her, listening to the sniffling that rose above the sound of water splashing against the pots and pans. Every now and again Raquel would use her sleeve to wipe her eyes. Then suddenly Raquel lowered her head and her shoulders heaved up and down as the painful sobs drowned out the sound of running water.
Ann Marie felt paralyzed. Not only could she not seem to make her feet move toward her daughter, her mind couldn’t process what her eyes witnessed. When movement and reason returned, Ann Marie turned away and as silently as she’d entered she went to her room, thankful for the background noises that drowned out her cowardly escape.
Once inside her bedroom she eased her door shut and closed her eyes. What kind of mother was she? How could she see her daughter in apparent pain and do nothing to ease it? Was she that callous, that empty inside? The muscles of her stomach tensed.
She tugged in a deep breath of resolve and moved away from the door. Raquel was a grown woman she reasoned, not a small child with a bruised knee. Raquel would work out whatever problem she had on her own, just as she had been forced to do over the years. Who was ever there to help her? No one. Not a bloody soul.
Ann Marie moved across the room, taking off her suit as she did. She changed into a button-down sky-blue oxford shirt and a pair of black Donna Karan slacks. She stepped into her favorite loafers, took up her purse, grabbed her black waist-length leather jacket and headed back out. She eased past the kitchen and was just about to reach the front door when Raquel called out to her.
“Mama, I didn’t hear you come in.”
Ann Marie turned. “Oh, yes, I’m kind of in a hurry. I have a meeting.” She saw the red-rimmed eyes and trembling mouth. She licked her lips and forced a smile. “I should be back in a couple of hours.”
Raquel nodded. “I’ll fix dinner.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll probably grab something while I’m out.” She turned to leave once again.
“Mama.”
Ann Marie stopped with her hand on the knob. “Yes?”
“Why can’t you love me?”
Ann Marie’s stomach rose to her throat, strangling her, keeping the words from escaping from her loose lips. She forced it back down. “Don’t be silly, chile.” She opened the door and walked out, shutting it firmly behind her and separating her from the question that haunted her daily.
Elizabeth got behind the wheel of her Mercedes and headed over to the building to meet the girls. The better part of the afternoon had been spent in her attorney’s office going over her bank account, all the documents that she and Matthew jointly signed and what her options were. She smiled wickedly. If Matthew thought he was going to buy her out and put her in the street he had another think coming. And now that she knew she had the support of her daughters, the sky was the limit. She hummed all the way to One Hundred and Twenty-fourth Street. If things worked out the way she envisioned, Matthew Lewis could put his head between his legs and kiss his ass goodbye! She laughed out loud just thinking about it.
Barbara was the first to arrive, still in her work uniform. She paced outside in front of the building that Ann Marie swore up and down was a diamond in the rough. Well, she was no expert on building rehab, but even Stevie Wonder could see that this place needed a lot more than a little fixing up.
Did she really want to sink the money that Marvin had left her in what was obviously a money pit? She glanced up at the facade. The windows were broken and the ones that weren’t were boarded up. The grass and weeds in the small front yard rose with threatening determination past the ground-floor windows. The parlor floor door that led to the upper floors from outside had a chain lock around it, bringing to mind a dozen movies featuring the haunted house. If the outside looked this bad, she didn’t want to entertain what the inside resembled. A shiver went through her. This definitely had to be the “before” picture, as it in no way resembled the building that Ann Marie had showed them and raved about.
Barbara glanced up and down the street. The block that the house sat on was relatively quiet, tree-lined with two small businesses: a Caribbean restaurant and a dry cleaner, one on each side of the long street.
She had to admit, it was an ideal location. Right around the corner was everything you could want: shopping, restaurants, bakeries, the train station within walking distance and One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street was a stone’s throw away. Hue Man and Nubian Heritage bookstores were also nearby. She looked at the building again and shook her head. She was going to strangle Ann Marie.
A car horn blew, drawing her attention to the street. It was Elizabeth. Barbara waved and leaned against the rickety iron fence while Elizabeth parked her car.
“Hey, girl,” Elizabeth greeted, and kissed Ba
rbara on the cheek. She looked up at the building and frowned with dismay. “Tell me this is not the building.”
“Unless both of us have the address wrong, this is it.”
“Oh, my goodness.” Elizabeth stepped closer. “It looks like it needs to be condemned.”
“I know,” Barbara sighed. “Oh, here comes Steph. She’s going to flip.”
“I’m surprised she showed up,” Elizabeth said in a pseudo whisper.
“Hmm. Expect fireworks.”
“Hey, ladies.” Stephanie kissed Barbara’s and Elizabeth’s cheeks. Her right brow arched. “I know this ain’t the building.”
Barbara and Stephanie nodded.
“Aw hell naw!” She folder her arms and began tapping her foot against the cracked pavement. “Unless there’s gold up in there, she ain’t getting a dime from me.” She shook her head back and forth, her weave whipping across her back.
“Let’s give it a chance,” Barbara offered, but she wasn’t feeling it, either.
Just then Ann Marie pulled up. She saw the trio in front of the house and their expressions ranged from distressed to outrage. She would have her work cut out for her, but she was confident that she could pull it off. She parked her car and got out.
The instant she approached, she held up her hand to stave off what she was sure would be a barrage of negativity.
“Before you all say one word, all I ask is that you reserve your comments until after we go through the house.” She looked from one to the other. “Agreed?”
Reluctantly they each nodded their heads in turn.
“Great, come on. I have the keys.” She pushed open the creaky front gate and walked toward the ground-floor entrance. After juggling with several keys she found the right one and opened the door. “Watch your step,” she warned and led the way.
The trio trailed closely behind her.
When they stepped inside, even in the dim dusty interior, the majesty of the house shone through. The entry foyer opened to a long mahogany staircase. To the right was what was once a grand ballroom. The tops of the windows were stained glass, hardwood-parquet flooring ran throughout. A massive fireplace with an enormous mirror was the centerpiece of the room, accented by a crystal chandelier. The wooden archway led to another sitting room with yet another fireplace and a built-in wood-and-glass étagère. Beyond was another room that looked out onto a surprisingly large backyard. To the left was a kitchen the size of which was only seen on the Martha Stewart cooking show.
Ann Marie could feel their awe, heard it in the soft sighs and gasps of delight. “Let’s go upstairs.”
On the parlor floor were three large rooms with sweeping archways and sliding mahogany doors and all the original touches of historic brownstones, from the intricate molding to the cathedral ceilings. Along the hallway was a master bathroom.
“There’s more,” Ann Marie said, and took them up another flight of stairs while she pointed out the amenities.
Here was another small kitchen and two large adjoining rooms with another bathroom tucked away at the end of the hallway. A stately mantelpiece was the focal point of the hallway.
“This is one of the few four-story brownstones,” Ann Marie offered, “and it has a livable attic, as well.”
She took them up to the next floor, which also had three smaller rooms complete with all the elegant touches and a nice-size alcove that could be used for a variety of things.
“Let’s check out the attic and then we can talk,” Ann Marie said.
The attic was so much larger than the women expected. It had two bedrooms, a full bath and a small kitchen.
Ann Marie turned toward them with an “I told you so” smile on her lips. “Well, what do you think?”
The trio began talking all at once, saying how exquisite, beautiful, incredible it was.
Now to the real business, Ann Marie thought as they poured out their accolades. “As I said, it does need work. It is an old house, with all the original wiring. Many of the floorboards are loose, the sliding doors are off their hinges in some of the rooms, windows need to be replaced in the entire building. The stairs will have to be redone, the ceilings replastered where they were damaged by water and most, if not all, of the plumbing must be replaced.” She took a breath. “And as I said the other night, the roof has to be replaced, as well.” She looked from one to the other.
Barbara looked around, her eyes sweeping the space, taking snapshots in her head of what she’d seen. “I think if we can get it, we should.”
“I can already see what we can do with each of the rooms,” Elizabeth said. “And the kitchen downstairs is a cook’s dream.”
“As much as I ever hate to admit that you’re right, you are,” Stephanie conceded. “This place is a palace in disguise.”
Ann Marie clapped her hands in delight. “So… we’re going to go for it?”
“Yes!” they chorused.
“Great! First thing tomorrow, I’ll start working up the numbers. I’m going to have to get all of your information to run the credit checks and get an idea from each of you how much you are willing to invest. Deal?”
“Deal!” They all joined hands.
“This is going to be awesome,” Barbara said, imagining herself as a business owner, giving massage therapy to a stream of handsome men.
“I’m so excited,” Elizabeth sighed, thinking that for the first time in forty-two years she would actually be out on her own.
Stephanie nodded slowly. “Yes, ladies, I think we hit pay dirt.” She was already envisioning the PR campaign she would put together to get the business off the ground.
“Did we ever decide on a name for our daring enterprise?” Ann Marie asked.
“I have just the thing,” Barbara said. She held her hands up and slowly spread them left to right in dramatic fashion. “Pause for Men.”
“‘Where time has no limits,’ could be the tagline,” Stephanie added.
“I love it,” Elizabeth giggled.
“Then, Pause for Men it is,” Ann Marie concurred.
They put their hands one atop the other. “To success,” Barbara said.
“Success!”
“I think this calls for a drink,” Stephanie said.
“To drinks!” they chimed and headed out.
“Or three,” Ann Marie giggled as she locked the doors behind them and opened the gateway to a new future for them all.
“Why don’t we stop by Delectables?” Elizabeth asked once they were outside. “The girls can fix us a nice healthy dinner before we ply ourselves with booze. Besides, I’m so excited I can’t wait to tell them.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Barbara said, walking toward her car. “I haven’t seen the twins in a while.”
“I’m open.” Stephanie took her car keys from her purse. “No one is waiting up for me.”
“I’m game. I’ll meet you all there.” Ann Marie got behind the wheel of her Lexus. “Then we can decide where we want to go for drinks.”
The quartet pulled off and met up shortly afterward at Delectables.
“Oh, my goodness,” Dawne squealed when her mother and friends came through the door. “It has to be a special occasion to get all my favorite ladies here at one time.”
“It is,” Elizabeth said, barely able to contain her excitement.
“Well, come on in,” Desiree said. “Have a seat. We were just getting ready to close, but we can certainly whip something up for you.”
“Yes, we’re starved,” Barbara said, hugging each of her goddaughters in turn.
Once the ladies were settled and their orders taken, they all sat around a large circular table sipping smoothies until their food was ready.
“So…” Desiree began. “How long are you going to keep us in suspense?”
The ladies looked at one another with Cheshire cat grins on their faces.
“You go ahead and tell them,” Ann Marie said to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth took a breath. “Well,” she began…
“This is so exciting,” Dawne said.
“When are you going to get the house and how can we help?” Desiree asked.
“I’m going to put the paperwork in first thing in the morning,” Ann Marie said. “Then we can take it from there.”
“Wow, a building full of physically fit, handsome men,” Dawne said on a sigh, her gaze drifting happily off.
Barbara laughed. “Our sentiments exactly. And you two can provide the healthy meals that our healthy men will be craving once I’m through with them.”
“What more could an eligible girl ask for?” Desiree said.
Ann Marie sat in momentary silence watching the love exchanged between Elizabeth and her daughters and wished that she could muster up just a semblance of it for her own daughter. Why couldn’t she? This question plagued her countless times. Why?
So this was family life, Stephanie thought as she began to eat her plate of grilled salmon and seasoned yellow rice that was put in front of her. There was a time when having children of her own was the furthest thing from her mind. And the longer she stayed under the influence of Conrad, the more dismal her chances became as her biological clock was set for alarm mode. Even the bitch Ann Marie had a child, not that she deserved one…but still. How fair was that?
Barbara looked at her goddaughters with pride. She could still remember them as tiny infants in their bassinets. And now they were grown women with a thriving business and the whole world at their fingertips. It was the one thing she’d regretted during her marriage to Marvin—that they’d never had kids. They falsely believed that they had time. Ha, time. Time could be your friend or foe. It was too late for her, that much she knew. But at least she could live vicariously through Dawne and Desiree, whom she showered with all the love she would have if she’d had children of her own. The thought of children brought Michael zooming to the forefront of her mind. He was young, eligible and childless. At some point, if their relationship continued, he’d want more from her than a hot night in bed and stimulating conversation.