by Jayce Ellis
Also available from Jayce Ellis
and Carina Press
High Rise
Jeremiah
André
And watch for Learned Reactions, coming in 2021!
Also available from Jayce Ellis
Reverence (Book One of the Devotion Series)
Learned Behaviors
Jayce Ellis
To Heathcliff Maximillian Spit
the Third Earl of Fire—the original Spitfire.
May you forever annoy your owners,
whether by using the new suede couch
as a scratching post or sharpening your claws
by removing keys from Mama’s keyboard
(who needs the letter E anyway).
You’re forever loved.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Excerpt from André by Jayce Ellis
Preview of Reverence by Jayce Ellis
Chapter One
“Dad, over here!”
JaQuan Reynolds grunted, hefting his daughter’s two suitcases up and filtering out the shrieks of dozens of other eighteen-year-olds to follow Tanisha’s voice. What in god’s name had she packed in here? She was going to Howard, not the Amazon. No way she needed this many clothes.
He passed by an older woman with gray sisterlocs piled high on her head, holding a clipboard and giving him a wary glance, past scores of giggling girls who shouldn’t be looking at him that way, to the end of the hall on the second floor. The place smelled like the fragrance counter at a department store on Mother’s Day weekend, which is to say ten times better than the men’s dorm. He didn’t need to be there to know.
Jaq found Tanisha in her room, dark curly hair halfway down her back, waving her arms and talking excitedly with a young lady Jaq assumed was her new roommate, standing there with a short fro, those chunky glasses that were in now, and a broad smile. Tanisha never had learned how to talk with just her voice. Amazing that in eighteen years she hadn’t whacked someone in her enthusiasm.
Jaq couldn’t stop his grin. His baby girl was all grown up. Sort of. She was eighteen and had chosen to live on campus rather than stay home. He’d been against it, explaining that commuting wasn’t such a bad idea, but Gran—his mother—had encouraged her to go. She told Tanisha her independence was calling, and T had run with it. Jaq’d taken some convincing, and not just because of the lower tuition costs, but eventually relented. As Gran said, Tanisha deserved this time to fly. Home would be her soft place to land.
And now he was being an emotional sap.
His phone buzzed and he closed his eyes. Only one person would call, and he was not answering it. He hadn’t taken a scheduled day off from Kingsley Enterprises in five years, and Patricia Kingsley could survive eight hours without him.
The girl T was talking to leaned in and whispered something, and Tanisha turned, her face lighting up. She laughed, the sound airy and carefree and music to his ears. “Girl, he is not fine. He’s my dad.” She tugged him into the room to make introductions.
“Dad out here lookin’ like a whole meal,” someone yelled from the hall. Laughter exploded, and Tanisha flushed clear to her roots.
Poor baby. Tanisha was as fair as Jaq was dark, having taken after her mom in that department, and seeing her blush was cute. “You all right there, pumpkin?” he choked out through his mirth. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead, even as his phone vibrated again. Holy mother of god, what did that woman want?
Someone knocked on the door and they all turned to a girl in the hallway. “Umm, Mr. Reynolds, can you help us bring the couch to the living room? It’s a sleeper, so it’s mad heavy.”
Jaq looked down at his daughter. “You good here?”
“Yeah. Just stop looking so...so,” she finished, waving her hand at him.
He got it. He was one of the few men here, most mothers having chosen to move their daughters into the dorms. Had T’s mom not skipped out fifteen years earlier, she’d probably be here too. As it was, Tanisha’d had him and Gran, and Gran had to work. At only thirty-five, Jaq was used to people assuming he and Tanisha were brother and sister instead of father and daughter. A few years ago it’d disgusted him. Now it disgusted her.
Jaq stepped outside and saw a host of girls lounging on the couch in question. His phone buzzed again, and he finally yanked it from his pocket. Just like Patti. No voicemail. No text messages. Just calling and calling until he got tired and picked up. He pocketed the offending device. Whatever it was clearly wasn’t waiting until tomorrow; that would make too much sense. But there was nothing he could do about it now, and she could wait. She might be near to exploding by the time he returned her call, but she knew how important this day was to him.
“Excuse me, ladies,” he said to the women, ignoring the way five sets of eyes roamed over him, “but they asked me to get this couch inside.”
“So...you want us to move?” The young lady sitting curled up at one end of the couch looked genuinely confused, like the thought was ludicrous.
It was the dead of August, just about noon, and the sun was beating down on him. In other words, too hot for this. He smiled, knowing it was strained, and spoke. “It would help.”
“And if we don’t?”
Jaq shrugged. “Then I’m positive you’ll be able to move it.” He was pretty sure men weren’t allowed in the women’s dorms outside of move-in day. Unless they wanted to do it themselves, which they were more than capable of, the window for him to help was getting short.
“Wanna be a big strong man and move it with us still on it?” One woman raised a brow and leaned back, throwing an arm across the back of the couch, a tiny smirk on her face.
God grant him patience today. He pinched the bridge of his nose and dipped his head. “That’s not gonna happen.”
Another girl hopped off. “Stop fucking with him, Claire. Lesgo.”
“But I wanna fuck...with him,” Claire finished.
Whoever said women were the fairer species had clearly never set foot on a college campus.
The rest of the ladies bounded off, laughing. Jaq crouched down to lift one end of the couch and dropped it. A sleeper, like the girl had said. He could pick it up, but his back would make him pay for it sooner rather than later. He’d look weak just pushing it—and why did that matter? He wasn’t trying to impress anybody.
“You need help with that?”
Jaq straightened and saw a man behind him, with light brown eyes and hair that actually coiled, chewing some gum and inspecting the couch like it was a riddle to be solved. “That’d be great. The ladies asked me to get it inside, but it’s heavy and my knees ain’t what they used to be.”
He laughed. “You ain’t said nothin’ but a word. Gimme a mi
nute.” He turned to someone behind him. “Aye yo, Trey! Hold up a sec.”
Jaq followed his sight to a young man standing guard over a couple of suitcases and some boxes. When he tilted his head in acknowledgment, the other guy turned back. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Together, they hefted the couch, which could undoubtedly use another set of hands, though he doubted they’d ever admit it, and maneuvered it into the common sitting area. Girls crowded it almost immediately and Jaq backed up.
“Thanks, Daddy!” Tanisha yelled out, rushing over and squeezing his waist.
Damn. He was really letting her go. Jaq tightened his arms around her shoulders and fought the surge of emotion that swelled in him. He was not the touchy-feely emotional dude. That hadn’t been a luxury since she’d been born. But now she was here, in college at Howard, where she’d always wanted to go, and he was returning to an empty house. Sure, Gran would be there, but Tanisha was the life that made their home sing. Without her, without someone to come home to, what the hell would he do but become a workaholic? Patti would love that.
He shuddered and T pulled back, her brows drawn together as she bit her lower lip. Never could break her of that habit. He tugged on her chin until she let go. “You okay, Dad?”
He nodded, willing himself to relax. “Yeah. You all set? Need me to do anything else? You got your inhaler? Nebulizer? Albuterol?” T’s asthma was well controlled now, and she was excellent about taking her corticosteroids and monitoring herself, but he couldn’t help but worry. The early years after she’d first been diagnosed stayed with him.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, but he saw the wetness in them. “No, I’m good. I’ll see you in a few weeks?”
For Parents Weekend, and for any other weekend, day, hour or minute she wanted to come home. God, he’d miss waking up to his pumpkin’s laugh. “Yeah, T, I’ll be back soon. Love you, baby girl.”
“Love you too, Daddy.”
He left the dorm to a chorus of awws, the watchful eye of the older woman, clipboard still in hand, following him.
“Trey’s gonna be pissed. I’ve been farther into the girls’ dorm than he’ll ever get.”
Jaq startled. He hadn’t realized the guy who’d helped him was still there, but he laughed. “That’s fucked up.”
“Indeed.” He held out a hand. “Carlton Monroe.”
Jaq shook it. Nothing. Not even a hint of attraction. Carlton Monroe was the definition of an objectively fine-ass man who flipped not a single switch. C’est la vie. “JaQuan Reynolds. Thanks for your help in there.”
“No problem. Your wife couldn’t make it?”
Jaq startled at the question. “Wife? No wife.” He looked pointedly down at his hand, then Carlton. He wasn’t wearing a ring. What was this guy on about?
Carlton followed his movements and snorted. “My dad was in construction and never wore one. I prefer to assume all Black folks are married unless told otherwise.”
Straight people were weird sometimes. Jaq huffed. “I can dig it.” He nodded to Trey, who had his headphones on and looked oblivious to the world. “That your son?”
“Nephew actually. My sister passed and he decided to stay with me.”
“Man, I’m sorry. That’s gotta be rough. How’d your wife take it?”
Carlton stopped midstride and snorted, wagging a finger at him. “I see what you did there. No wife, girlfriends, anything like that. And as for instant fatherhood for a confirmed bachelor? It’s been something.” He started walking again and Jaq fell in line. It had been a minute since he had someone around his age, not a coworker, to talk to.
“I wouldn’t know. I picked fatherhood first, so you’ll have to tell me how to do this bachelor thing.”
“Shit. Pardon my saying, but I thought you looked young to be a dad. I didn’t know if daddy was real or affectionate.”
Jaq choked.
“I mean, I’m not kink shaming or anything. If she’s of age, do you. But—”
“Stop, man. That is my daughter. My child. My flesh and blood. The...the—”
“Fruit of your loins?” Carlton asked with a grin.
“That is gross. Don’t say that shit again.” But Jaq was laughing. This guy was a riot.
“I’m fucking with you. How old were you when she was born?”
Jaq sighed. “Seventeen. And she’s been my world since.”
Carlton paused and looked at him. “Damn. That’s wild. That’s younger than my nephew.”
“Yep.” And he was not going down memory lane, at least not ’til he got home. “It’s like starting over. Don’t have the first clue who I am outside of being a father.”
“I bet you and your friends are about to get buck now, though, right?”
A snort-laugh escaped, one that didn’t quite match Jaq’s bitterness about the “friends” who’d bounced because he had responsibilities early. “Can’t really say I have a ton of those either.”
Carlton stopped and held his hand out again. Jaq frowned but shook it, and Carlton smiled. “You do now.”
Jaq laughed but shook harder, then pulled back to fist-bump him. “That’s what’s up.”
“Besides, I’m sure you and me could get into some shit.” Carlton winked as they approached Trey.
They probably really could. “You need any help getting his stuff moved in?” he asked, pointing to the boxes Trey was sitting on, paying them no mind. The definition of oblivious.
“You sure?” Carlton asked. “I don’t want to keep you from anything if you have plans.”
“If it’s not work or T, I don’t know what a plan is.” His phone buzzed again as he hefted a duffel on his shoulder and grabbed a bag.
“You need to get that?” Carlton asked, carrying two boxes while Trey juggled the bags of textbooks it looked like they’d picked up on the way.
The phone stopped, then immediately started again. Patti was tenacious when she wanted something. Still, Jaq hadn’t worked directly for her for five years without developing a little tenacity of his own.
“Nah, it can wait.” The phone vibrated against his leg again and he grinned. It damn well could.
* * *
Jaq waited until he was good and comfortable in his car before using the Bluetooth to call Patti. Thirty-nine missed calls in less than three hours. Jesus effin’ Christ.
Patti answered before the first full ring. “JaQuan! Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all morning,” she practically spat through the phone, eschewing any manner of greeting.
“Good morning, JaQuan. Did your daughter get settled in at Howard well? Yes? Oh, I’m so glad to hear it. I’m sorry for having to call on your first day off in five years, but we’ve had an emergency.” Jaq paused for effect. “Should I go on?”
He could practically hear the steam whistling through Patti’s ears. She was dynamic, a force to be reckoned with, but Jaq was the only executive assistant she’d been able to keep for longer than six months. He rarely used the leeway that afforded him, but given he’d called instead of mentally telling her to go fuck herself and not responding at all, he figured he could be forgiven.
“You’re right,” Patti said slowly, her voice dropping as she got her bearings about her. “But you can’t imagine I’d call nonstop if it wasn’t critical.”
“If it was critical, I’d imagine you’d have left a message or text, and then I’d know what the problem was. What is the problem, by the way?” He was good and tired of the banter, and traffic was light, so he should be home in ten.
“Bernhardt called.”
Oh shit. Jaq straightened in his seat, suddenly at attention. They’d been in negotiations with Bernhardt for months, trying to get Patti’s luxury line of bedding, home décor, throws, and pillows into the department store. But they played hardball and their point man was an absolute jackass. Discussions had s
talled for a while, then picked up with a fury a few weeks back. Jaq assumed they wouldn’t hear anything before Labor Day, but apparently not. Hell, he couldn’t even be mad at her for blowing up his phone. He’d have done the same thing.
“Did we get it?” When she didn’t answer immediately, Jaq pressed harder. “Dammit, Patti, did we get it?”
“We got it!” she yelled, her voice booming through the speakers. She sounded as hype as Tanisha had been this morning, but as quickly as she shrieked, she sobered. “But that’s also the problem. They want a holiday release. We have eight weeks to get a full Bernhardt exclusive put together. We launch Black Friday.”
Fuck. This was a big break. Huge, and could make the brand. And the deadline wasn’t impossible, assuming no one had a life and spent their every waking hour working on the project. Getting this right would be a nightmare. He craned his neck to the side, groaning at the satisfying crack that resulted. “Okay, what’s the game plan?”
Patti laughed, the low, nervous sound telling Jaq all he needed to know. “No goddamn clue. That’s what I have you for.”
Of course it was. “Right. So a team meeting tomorrow morning?”
“I wish. Matt wants one today. At three, in fact.” Her voice ticked up as she spoke, a sure sign her anxiety was taking hold.
Matt was Matthew Donaldson, Bernhardt’s guy. A more pompous, arrogant ass Jaq hadn’t had the displeasure of meeting. Not that they’d met in person, but his voice held the over-stiff tones of someone who thought his shit didn’t stink. He probably breathed a different air than the rest of the mere peons on Earth. Jaq was not looking forward to having to spend more time with him.
Besides that, it was two already. Jaq hadn’t had the chance to eat, let alone grab the nap and Aleve that his lower back and knees were begging for. He wouldn’t have time now either, pulling into the McDonald’s drive-thru while thoughts of lazing around evaporated in front of his eyes. Tanisha would cluck at him, admonishing him as she often did about his poor food habits when she or Gran wasn’t cooking. Cooking was a level of energy he didn’t have. Not for just himself.