Mariah: The M Series: Book Two

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Mariah: The M Series: Book Two Page 23

by Ryanne Anthony


  Somebody else is pissed off and miserable, huh? Well, cheers to them.

  I grabbed Nathan's martini and killed it, too.

  “Mariah,” Nathan scolded.

  “No! Not tonight,” I pleaded, my eyes welling.

  There were no more martinis on the table. I wiped my eyes with my fingers then grabbed Lisa's margarita. I was about to bring it to my mouth when I heard...

  “She has shared the floor with my brothers and I'm hoping she can put our differences aside and indulge me in a dance as well.”

  I froze. Someone took the glass from my hand.

  “That's Marcus talking,” I breathed.

  Was he talking about me?

  Who the hell else, fool?

  Every eye at the party turned and looked at me. Shit! So much for thinking things through. I put my hand over my eyes and sank in my seat.

  “Shit,” I uttered loudly. Lisa and Monica snickered.

  “Girls,” my mother warned. They stopped instantly.

  The music swelled, perfect for a slow tango. I looked at the dance floor. It was empty, except for Marcus. He stood in the middle of the floor without his jacket, his hands in his pockets as he stared at me. He looked so fucking good! My whole body heated and turned the same color as my dress and my sex contracted tightly.

  Shit!

  “Mom! Do something,” I whispered.

  She smirked. “Do what, honey?”

  “Pops?” I looked at him, desperately. He shook his head.

  The music stopped, and I thought 'whew' as I looked up in time for Marcus to twirl his finger in the air, signaling the band to keep going. They played again and I frowned.

  “Get your ass up,” Ethan snarled at me.

  Why are we not in his arms, now? You wanted this, only minutes ago! I agree with our brother! Get your ass up!

  “No,” I snapped back. I was glued to my seat. I stared at my fingers, still frowning.

  “Damn it all,” someone muttered.

  A hand gripped my arm. I looked up and Nathan was glaring down at me. He pulled me and I didn't move, so he gripped harder and practically yanked me to my feet.

  “Atta boy, Nathan,” T cheered.

  “Traitor,” I muttered, scowling at him.

  T winked at me. I rolled my eyes at him then turned to Nathan.

  “You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make her drink,” I grumbled.

  “Maybe,” he glared and spoke in a low, venomous tone at my ear. “But sometimes you have to give a mule a swift kick on her ass to get her to move before she fucks everything up with her stubbornness.”

  I gasped and stared at him. He had never talked to me that way before.

  Nathan wrapped my hand around his arm and led me to the dance floor. We stopped in front of Marcus. I felt like I'd just been walked down the aisle on my wedding day. My face heated and I scowled at the floor; I just couldn't look at Marcus.

  Nathan nudged me and I looked up at him. “Let it all go, Mariah,” Nathan advised and kissed my temple. “Marcus,” he nodded and went back to the table.

  I watched him walk away, catching a glimpse of my table. Katherine was standing with Mom, holding her hands, beaming; Lisa and Monica had their hands over their mouths. They appeared to be emotional. I frowned and shook my head at the lot of them. What did they think was going to happen here?

  The band lowered their volume to a soft hum in the background.

  “You asked me to think. That was not enough time. Let's not do this now,” I whispered, still looking at the table of betrayers.

  Marcus gripped my chin and turned my head toward him. He held it until I looked at him.

  “Your sadness is breaking my heart and I need to do something to make us both feel somewhat better,” he whispered back.

  Ooh... the things he says.

  I threw my head back inhaling and brought it back down as I exhaled. I took a step back. I think he feared I was about to flee.

  “Okay, just... stop talking.”

  My eyes closed and I waited for his touch. I felt him walk behind me then gently pull the band off my waves, making my hair flow down my back again.

  Yeah, he likes our hair down.

  His hand touched my cheek. I involuntarily tilted into it and sighed as I opened my eyes. All too quickly he moved his hand. It slowly traveled down my arm to my hip, my thigh and down my leg. He reached my ankle and lifted it to his bent knee and attached the anklet he gave me for his birthday, then gently placed my foot back on the floor. He stood, gracefully, as a fresh tear rolled down my cheek at his sweet gesture.

  He gave me a small smile, wiped my tear with his thumb. He turned his head a little and nodded. Immediately, the music swelled, and the same intoxicatingly slow song begging to be danced to sensuously-slow filled the air around us.

  I didn’t think I was going to survive this sweet torture.

  Marcus grabbed my waist and pulled me into his arms. He swung my left arm around his neck and held my right hand in his left and squeezed gently. His right hand planted on my back and we stared in each other’s eyes as he slowly started our dance.

  We moved along, taking advantage of the slow, erotic melody that compelled us to practically stick together.

  The swell picked up and he pulled away, twirled me at my nape, and brought me back to his chest backwards. He splayed his right hand on my belly, with his left, he held my left hand on his chest and took us around, nuzzling my forehead as the song whined her sensuous wail again.

  We glided across the floor as though we were making love.

  The song threatened us again and Marcus kissed my nose and twirled me away and brought me back. He pulled my head against his chest and leaned his chin on my forehead. My hand was spread over his heart and I felt his rapid heartbeat, but still we move in an agonizingly slow and sensuous rhythm.

  I heard the warning that the song was ending soon and so did Marcus. He twirled me once, making us chest-to-chest again. He wrapped his arm tightly at my waist, while he extended the other behind him with my hand in his. My other hand laid on his nape, and my fingers softly caressed it. His breathing picked up at my touch and he squeezed me tighter. When the song wailed to her climax, Marcus dipped me low and I wrapped my leg around his, my hand still caressed his nape as the other rested on his chest. He slowly brought me back up, and fisted my hair in the way that I loved and pulled me into a slow, sensuous kiss that matched our dance.

  When the song finished, he released the kiss and hugged me tight then buried his face in my neck. I wrapped my arms around him as tight as I could, while my tears freely flowed.

  Marcus and I received the biggest round of applause of all three dances.

  When he pulled back, Marcus held my face and wiped my tears with his thumbs again. He kissed me again as the applause started to die down. I reluctantly pulled back and looked around. I saw nothing but the smiling faces.

  The women at my table were crying, especially Mom and Katherine. I frowned at them as Nathan leaned to Ethan and said something to him. Ethan froze and stared daggers at me. Whatever Nathan said to Ethan, he must have repeated because Tom looked over and shot daggers my way, too.

  Marcus took my hand and led me to my family's table. Finally, the applause died and the band played something upbeat. My mom grabbed me, breaking my contact with Marcus. I instantly missed his touch.

  “Honey, that was beautiful! Just poetic! And Marcus, you are such a wonderful dancer! I felt like I was being told a story, watching you two.”

  I felt like Marcus was telling me a story as well, and I understood every word.

  “Thank you, Rachel,” Marcus dryly replied, reminding me of his tone when he answered Adina on the day I met him.

  He turned and held out his hand toward Katherine and called, “Mother?”

  Katherine frowned but took his hand and he tucked it under his arm. Marcus turned, looked at me for a moment then around the table.

  “Good night, everyone. Please enjo
y the rest of your evening,” he murmured then led Katherine away. I watched them until they disappeared into the crowd.

  I stood stunned for a moment and then I plop in my seat and stare down into my hands. A fresh tear hit my wrist.

  Stupid, stupid, STUPID!

  I know! Not now!

  “Mariah, what's happened? I thought...” Monica started.

  Someone grabbed my hand and squeezed.

  “Cookie, is everything all right,” Lisa asked. “What was that?”

  I looked up at her, excruciating pain written all over my face. My tears flowed freely down my cheeks.

  “That was goodbye,” I whispered. Quickly, I remembered where I was.

  Pull it together and get us out of here.

  I reached over to Tom and pull his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped my face.

  “I'll return this later,” I mumbled to him.

  “Don't worry about it,” Tom answered then shook his head.

  I looked around the table and everyone was staring at me with that look of pity which, to this day, I abhor.

  I grabbed my clutch, pulled out a mirror and checked my face. It was pink and swollen and my eyes were red but, thank God, I didn’t look the least bit scary. I had minimal make-up and was only devoid of lip gloss. I dabbed my face, applied a light coat of gloss then put everything back in my purse, vowing to get a car very soon.

  “I’m going to wish good night to Joshua and Mandy then I want to leave. Can someone give me a ride, please?”

  Lisa grabbed my hand and softly said, “Nathan and I can take you, Cookie. We don't have to stay.”

  “No, you guys stay. Please. Mandy's your friend and you should enjoy the evening. I insist,” I said and squeezed her hand, reassuringly.

  “I'll take you, Cookie,” T offered.

  “Are you sure, T?” I asked.

  “Yes. My shift starts at seven a.m. anyway, so I should go. It's already after eleven.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  I walked around our table and kissed everyone good night and set off to find Joshua and Mandy. I found them talking to Marcus, who walked off as I approached.

  If was there ever a show of finality, that was definitely it.

  “Mandy, Joshua. I wanted to thank you for inviting me and wish you good night. I apologize for the spectacle. Congratulations and best wishes.”

  “No, Mariah, please stay longer,” Mandy implored, grabbing my hands. “The party won't end for hours. Please don't go yet.”

  “Thank you, Mandy, but I feel like I should.”

  Besides, I don't belong here, I wanted to add.

  She pulled me into a hug and whispered, “Please, don't let go yet.”

  I sighed, knowing she was talking about Marcus. I damn near informed her it was not me that did the letting go.

  Joshua kissed my cheek and gave me a brief hug. “It was great to see you, Mariah. I especially enjoyed our dance. I still look forward to the next, so please don't be stranger, regardless of what happens, all right? I would still like to see you at our wedding.”

  I half-smiled back thinking, fat chance of that happening. “Thank you, Joshua. Good night.”

  I turned; T and Monica were behind me. They wished Joshua and Mandy a good night as well. As I waited for them to finish, the band played a slow melody and I recognize it immediately. The singer's voice was strong but full of pain, as I was. I stepped back and looked at the stage as I listened to the singer wail. I shook my head as Monica wrapped her arm around my waist.

  As we walked through the house, I thought of the look on Marcus' face as I approached to say goodbye to Joshua and Mandy. I stopped in my tracks and cried, feeling the finality of my relationship with him.

  It was really over, I thought as Tom's arms wrapped around me, while Monica rubbed my back.

  “Come on, Cookie,” Monica quietly urged. “Hold on, at least until we get to the car, sweetie.”

  Sobbing softly, I gripped Tom's waist and allowed them to lead me away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I am a stubborn fool…

  I hated Sundays now. I'd lost Marcus and I couldn't think of anything or anyone else and there was nothing to do but dwell on my lost love. I spent the day lying in my bed doing just that while looking at the same spot on the wall, only getting out of bed to use the bathroom. I didn't even shower. Don't even ask me about eating. Lisa and Nathan tried throughout the day to get me to eat something but I refused every effort.

  I heard the house phone ring several times but I didn't ask who it was and they never said it was for me. I knew at least one of those calls was my mom.

  Nathan came to my room around six on Sunday evening to say good night. He was going to do a double at the hospital, starting at seven, and Lisa was going to drop him off. He kissed my temple and started to say something, but he changed his mind and walked out, muttering something about elective pain.

  When Lisa returned, she came to my room with pasta from my favorite restaurant. Cavatappi… one of the restaurants the Cannons owned.

  “Cookie, come on, sit up and eat this. You need some strength for work tomorrow.”

  After a few minutes of her coaxing, out of sheer annoyance I sat up and ate about half of it, crying, while Lisa watched me silently, sympathetically.

  When I'd had enough, I gave it back to her. I immediately laid down and cried some more. She snuggled in behind me and held me close, not saying a word, just smoothing my hair as if I were a hurt child.

  I finally fell asleep. When I awoke the next morning, Lisa was still there, her arms snugly around me.

  * * *

  Monday, I decided not to use the elevators, fearful I would run into Marcus in one of them.

  I was floated to the Internal Medicine floor. I was told Dr. Cannon asked for me specifically, and wondered why as I made my way up in the stairwell.

  During lunch, I went to Pops’ office and asked if I could borrow a car. I rode to his home with him after work and after I greeted her, Mom asked if I'd spoken to Marcus. I shrugged and told her I was still debating, because, even though I felt the finality of the relationship, I was still not willing to accept we were over. I was genuinely surprised when she dropped the conversation immediately and insisted I stay for dinner. I did and after, we went to the garage.

  “Take your pick, Cookie, and keep it as long as you need,” Pops offered.

  I smiled at the champagne colored Lincoln MKX and chose that one.

  “You like that one, honey,” Mom asked, holding me at my side.

  “Yes, I love it... it's everything and understated,” I breathe, still staring.

  “Why don't you keep it, Cookie, since you like it so much? Let's say it's an early birthday present,” Pops gently urged.

  “Oh, no, Pops, I couldn't. It's just for the week... until I can get something on my own. Really.”

  Pops looked at me and shook his head. “Oh, you stubborn, stubborn girl! Anthony, please bring the key to the MKX,” he called to his garage attendant.

  “Yes, Dr. Harvey!”

  I stared at the car, resolving to find a dealer on my birthday. Pops is right, this car will make a great birthday present, from me.

  Anthony returned and handed the key to Pops. “Thank you, Anthony,” he murmured and put the key in my hand.

  “Thank you, Pops. I'll return it when I come for dinner Sunday,” I breathed, anxious to get in it and drive.

  “Anthony,” Pops called out. “If Mariah here shows up Sunday, or any other day for that matter, trying to return this car, do not accept it. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir. Don't take this car back. Got it.” he smiled and walked off.

  “But Pops –”

  He tapped my nose. “No buts, Cookie.”

  “Take the car, honey,” Mom encouraged, smiling. “Or I'll put you over my knee.”

  I stared at it a moment, and with tears in my eyes I turned and hugged him tightly.

  “Thank you, Pops
. Thank you so much.”

  * * *

  On Wednesday afternoon, Regina, the Internal Medicine receptionist, and I were at the reception desk sorting the charts for the next day's patients when the stairwell door opened and Marcus strolled out. He looked at me and faltered slightly but recovered quickly. He was in his deep blue scrubs, the ones that made his eyes jump off his face, and his doctor's coat.

  My heart skipped a beat, my clit throbbed and my insides tingled. I gasped, praying he didn't hear it. Ooh, I still wanted him.

  I perched on the edge of the desk. Marcus walked over and smiled at Regina.

  “Good afternoon. Is my father with a patient? I'd like a quick consultation.”

  Regina looked at him questioningly. “Your father, Dr. Alexander?”

  “Dr. Cannon is his father,” I quietly informed her.

  “Oh! I'm sorry, Dr. Alexander, I didn't know. I'll see if he's available,” Regina said, picking up the phone. “Dr. Cannon, please call reception,” she paged.

  I put my head down, pretending to put a file together but really trying to ignore my betraying body. I peeked at his wrist. He was wearing the watch I gave him. That made me swell inside and I bit my lip to keep the smile away. I hadn't taken off the anklet since he put it on me at the party. I won’t ever again.

  The phone buzzed. Regina answered as I fought the urge to throw myself at Marcus and fuck him on the reception desk.

  “Internal Medicine. This is reception ... I did, Dr. Cannon. Dr. Alexander is here and would like a moment for a consultation ... Right away, Doctor.” She hung up then smiled at Marcus. “Dr. Cannon asks that you join him in room four, Dr. Alexander. He's not with a patient.”

  “Fine. Thank you,” he replied but didn't leave.

  I looked his way and he was staring at me, intently. I tried to read his face but he gave away nothing.

  “Mariah,” he said with a quick nod then turned to the double doors.

  “Whew,” Regina breathed when Marcus was out of earshot. “I sure would like a shot at mending his broken heart. I'd also like to kick that stupid girl's ass for letting that go.”

  “Heartbroken?” I whispered. “He didn't appear heartbroken to me.”

 

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