Chloe still hadn’t returned and Devon was more than a little curious about where she could be. They had finished laying the cement for the walkway leading to the back of the house and were hammering the planks for the patio when Deshawn stopped.
“Think Chloe will mind if we grab something to drink?” Deshawn asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Nah. I could use a break myself.”
They walked over to the glass patio doors. Thankfully, she had left them unlocked and the alarm disabled. Once they entered the kitchen Devon was assailed by her scent hanging in the air. His gut clenched in reaction to it.
Deshawn reached into the double-door black-faced refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of fruit punch. He handed one to his brother before opening his own to take a healthy swig from it. Devon did the same.
“Where is Chloe, Dev?” he asked once his thirst was quenched.
Devon shrugged. “Who knows? Probably shopping.”
“Let’s get back to work.” He winked at his twin as he threw the now empty bottle into the glass recycling bin Chloe kept for Cyrus to collect once a week. “I wanna finish up as soon as possible. Poochie’s gonna practice CPR on me.”
“How’s everything going with Poochie?” Devon asked as he pitched his own empty bottle into the bin.
Deshawn smiled wolfishly and Devon shook his head. “I meant beside the sex, Shawn,” he said, his voice sardonic.
“Besides the sex?”
At his brother’s nod, he pondered the question. What did Poochie and he have beside explosive sex in odd places? They didn’t talk about much. They didn’t go out to dinner or anything of that sort. Ninety-nine percent of their time together was spent having sex and the other one percent was spent planning to have sex. Poochie was an attractive girl with a fun and high-spirited outlook on life, but Deshawn never even considered a serious relationship with her.
They had nothing besides sex, unlike his twin and Chloe. Although neither seemed to know it, they were crazy about each other. Whenever he saw them together he actually felt the chemistry that radiated between them. They were destined for each other, but they just didn’t seem to know it.
No, he couldn’t compare how he felt about Poochie to what he sensed growing between Devon and Chloe.
He saw that his brother was still waiting on an answer and he was honest with it. “We don’t seem to have anything but great sex. How are things with Chloe and you?”
Devon had never held too much from his twin and he wasn’t going to start now. He shook his head, obviously troubled. “As well as can be expected. She’s leaving for New York this weekend and I don’t want her to go.”
“Is she coming back?”
Devon shrugged. “She says she’ll only be gone two weeks.”
“Why don’t you want her to go?”
His brows lifted. “Because . . .”
Deshawn walked over to playfully nudge his twin’s head. “Because you’re worried she won’t come back.”
He looked over at his twin. He couldn’t lie to him even if he wanted to. “Exactly.”
Deshawn studied his brother. “She’s not Elissa, you know.”
“I know that—”
“Then stop putting all that garbage you had with Elissa onto Chloe.” Deshawn shrugged. “She’ll be back. Believe me, she’s just as anxious to be up under you as you are her, big brother.”
“Whatever,” he said, dismissing the subject. “Let’s walk out the front. It’s quicker.”
They left the kitchen and walked up the hallway, getting to the foyer just as the phone rang. Deshawn was reaching for the front door when Chloe’s answering machine clicked on after the third ring.
“Hey, this is Chloe. You know the routine.”
Beep.
“Cat baby, this is Calvin. Why haven’t you called me back yet?"
Devon’s steps halted and he stopped himself from walking out the front door as his twin had just done.
“Damn, Cat, I miss you. I’m glad you’re coming back to New York this week and getting the hell out of the boonies with those hicks. I can’t wait to see you.”
Devon’s body was rigid with anger, jealousy and yes, fear. Even through the phone lines he heard the wealth and prominence in the man’s voice. So that’s why Chloe was going to New York, to meet up with her old lover.
“We need to talk, Cat. Call me.”
The man’s voice was urgent as he pleaded with his woman.
“Aw hell.”
Devon looked away from the entrance to the living room to see Deshawn still standing on the porch, his expression grim as he obviously overheard the message as well.
“Well Shawn,” Devon said tightly, barely able to control the anger, raging jealousy and betrayal he felt. “Now we both know why Chloe’s headed home. To hell with her!”
Deshawn wiped his mouth. “Man, you don’t know what that call’s about. Talk to Chloe first.”
Devon gripped the doorknob so tightly that his hand ached, but not nearly as deeply as his heart. “To hell with Chloe just like I said, and let Calvin finish paving her damn patio. I’m out of here.”
Angrily, he brushed past his twin. Deshawn understood the emotions raging in his brother in that moment. He also knew there was no reasoning with Devon when he was angry, so he didn’t even try. Instead, he closed the front door and walked onto the porch.
Just as he moved off the last step, Chloe’s SUV whipped into the yard. Deshawn looked heavenward, wishing like hell that he wasn’t here to witness the scene that he knew was about to go down.
∞
Chloe pulled the SUV in directly next to Devon’s navy pickup truck, her eyes taking in Deshawn’s pained expression and the angry glare Devon shot in her direction before he got in the driver’s seat of his pickup. Something was up.
This morning she had finally pulled herself out of the bed and called Anika at work, knowing her blunt best friend would help her make sense of her life. And Anika, being Anika, told Chloe to stop moping behind a man who was behaving like a little boy. Not exactly comforted by her friend’s brash advice, Chloe had driven to Saks Fifth Avenue on King Street in Charleston and gone on a major shopping spree.
Leaving her three shopping bags in the vehicle, Chloe got out and walked over to where Devon sat stoically in the driver’s seat looking forward. His profile seemed to be cut from granite.
“Hello Devon,” she said cautiously.
He turned his head and gave her a cold, angry look that froze the blood in her veins.
“What the devil is wrong with you?” she asked, now angry for his unexplained contempt of her.
“Look Chloe, I advise you to just get out of my face or—”
“Or what?” Chloe yelled as she yanked open the truck’s door. “Or what, Devon, huh . . . what?”
Angry, she continuously asked, “Or what, Devon?”
He eyed her with open hostility.
Deshawn dashed toward the truck, coming to stand beside Chloe. “Look, both y’all acting childish. Now stop this before you both say or do something you’ll regret later.”
Devon laughed harshly, his eyes steadily on Chloe. “Too late. I regret the day I got involved with her.”
Chloe didn’t know if the hot stabbing pains in her chest were from hurt or anger. For one brief moment the pure confused pain she felt shone brightly in the depths of her eyes.
Devon fought the urge to pull her into a tight embrace and kiss away the words he just said. He saw the hurt he caused her flash in her eyes. But what about the pain she caused him? She was going to New York to meet her lover, for God’s sake. “Make sure when you get to New York you tell Calvin I said ‘Hello.’ ”
Chloe’s gasp of shock mingled with Deshawn’s heavy sigh of regret.
“What are you talking about, Devon? You know damn well I don’t want Calvin.” Her voice was weary.
“Funny,” he spat. “I couldn’t tell that from his message. Loo
k, go to New York and have a damn ball. I . . . don’t care anyway,”
What message, she thought to herself, but she said, “I’ll do just that Devon.”
She turned, nearly knocking Deshawn over as she ran into the house, tears now freely streaming down her cheeks.
Deshawn shot his brother a resentful look. “You sure screwed that up big time.”
“Shut up Shawn,” he mumbled.
∞
Chloe slammed and locked the doors behind her. Tears welled up in her hazel eyes again, but she refused to let them fall. If Devon wanted to act like a donkey, then let him.
He had said something about a message from Calvin and she wanted to see just how much of this disastrous afternoon was Calvin’s fault. Just as she reached the table where the answering machine sat, Chloe heard the squeal of tires as Devon and Deshawn left. Obviously he was so disgusted with her that he wasn’t going to finish her patio and driveway.
“That’s professional,” she muttered nastily as she pushed the PLAYBACK button on the machine.
“Hey, this is Chloe. You know the routine.”
Beep.
Her anger soared after she listened to Calvin’s message. That Calvin! Why can’t he leave me alone?
Okay, she had to admit that her ex-boyfriend did make it seem as though they were going to meet up in New York. But, Devon should have asked questions first before jumping to conclusions. It’s like Anika always said, when you assume you make an ass out of u not me.
To think, he thought so little of her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go when she first set out to bring Devon into her life. He wasn’t supposed to be able to hurt her. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting in the middle of her living room floor numb with hurt, embarrassment and anger. Slowly the boundaries had begun to fade and she had missed it.
Bitter tears began to fall down her cheeks, and Chloe wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest as she rocked. Even in anger, she missed the tall, bronzed and brooding man. Even now she had to fight the urge to run to her SUV, drive to his home and explain about Calvin. She wanted to throw herself at his feet like a sniveling idiot and beg forgiveness for something she hadn’t even done.
She could not ... no, would not let that happen.
Chloe quickly unfolded her body and grabbed the cordless phone from the base. Within minutes her arrangements were made. Then she dialed Anika’s private line in her office.
"Anika Foxx."
“Girl, this is Chloe.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ll be arriving in New York late this evening.”
“Today,” Anika shrieked. “What does country boy have to say about the early departure?”
“He can go to hell.”
“Oh,” was all Anika said, immediately understanding. “You’ll be at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I’ll just catch a cab from the airport.” Chloe carried the phone with her out of the living room and into her bedroom, grabbing one of her suitcases out of the walk-in closet.
“I’ll drive over as soon as I leave work.”
“Uh, Anika, bring chocolates. Lots of ’em.”
“That bad?” Anika asked softly, her voice concerned.
Chloe remembered the scene with Devon in the yard. “Worse.”
Chapter Nineteen
Never had the environment around the Jamison household been so stilted. Usually the rambling three-story structure was filled with a comfortable silence, but now the quiet was tense.
Deshawn had filled Nana Lil in on Chloe and Devon’s argument a week ago. Both now blamed Devon for the fact that Chloe was gone, although neither came right out and said so. He knew how they felt nonetheless, especially since his grandmother had stopped speaking to him at all and shot him hard looks every chance she got. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words.
It wasn’t as though Devon was in a talkative mood anyway. He became even more withdrawn and spent most of his nights in his suite, especially when Nana Lil got the note Chloe left saying she had left for New York and would call her in a few days.
Devon just assumed that Chloe had run to her lover, anxious to be back in his arms, and he would admit to no one how deeply that thought hurt and angered him.
The Friday after Chloe left, word had already spread around town that she was gone, and speculation on why she left moved through the small community like a tornado. Devon didn’t miss the odd looks he received, or the whispered comments, anytime he went near the main street in town. In fact, one afternoon he stormed into the house after a particularly harried session with Cyrus, who tried to command him to go get his woman.
But she wasn’t his woman any longer. She was Calvin’s now.
Devon groaned in exasperation when his grandmother threw a now familiar nasty look at him before turning back to the afghan she was knitting. Bah, everyone blamed him! Chloe left to be with another man, yet this was his fault?
“Let ’em be mad,” he muttered as he stomped up the stairs and into his bedroom.
Right now, as he frequently did, he envisioned Chloe having a ball in the big city. A beautiful sparkle in that unique smile of hers directed at Wesley, winking mischievously at Denzel, pouting those full luscious lips at Tyson, being serenaded by Kenny Lattimore, or giving Calvin that lazy-eyed look she got when she was caught up in passion . . .
Devon punched violently at the air in an attempt to vent his anger as the images plagued him. He forced himself to stop thinking of her. For his sanity’s sake, he had to forget Chloe. She was in New York, reunited with her ex-boyfriend, with no thought of him or Holtsville on her mind.
“To hell with Chloe,” he muttered, reaching in his wallet to rip up the picture of her he had carried there. If only he could get her out of his blood, his dreams and his heart that easily.
∞
One week back in New York, among the same fast-paced bright lights and hustle-bustle she had fled from, had Chloe anxious to run back to the small-town charm of Holtsville. Luckily the press was not aware she was back in town and she just thanked God for small favors.
She looked out of the bay windows of her luxury apartment. New York was busy with activity at even seven in the morning. Everyone seemed to be racing, afraid to slow down or they might miss success or some other attainable goal. Sighing, she turned away from the windows to look around the same black and marble decor of her bedroom.
Funny, she had been away from the apartment for more than a year and did not feel a twinge of regret about it. She had been away from her house in Holtsville only one week and missed it so deeply that she actually felt pangs in her chest at the thought of it.
This was the most lived-in the apartment had ever looked. For the past five days she moped and lounged, in FUBU and thick socks, watching television, listening to music, gobbling up hordes of gourmet chocolate ice cream, and generally feeling sorry for herself with perpetual tears. Nearly every room looked like a disaster had hit and Chloe didn’t care that it did.
Anika thought she was losing her mind and came by nearly every night after work to check on her. They did say that one of the first signs of someone going crazy was a complete change in their cleaning habits. Maybe Devon had succeeded in driving her insane.
She winced at the thought of him. Not being with him, and knowing she never would, hurt Chloe far more than stumbling upon Calvin’s infidelity. Constantly she thought of him, wondered what he was doing, envisioned him spending his time dating beautiful southern women, and not caring that she had left. That last bit always sent her into a fit of tears, or into a fresh bucket of ice cream.
Plus she missed Nana Lil’s bluntness, Deshawn’s charm and Cyrus’s sweet nosy nature. She knew they missed her as much as she missed them, even if Devon didn’t.
Chloe looked over at the phone on the bedside table, peeking from beneath the navy blue sweatpants she had worn yesterday and carelessly thrown aside. She did promise Nana Lil in the note she left in their mailbox that she w
ould call her. And she could check up on Devon, killing two birds with one stone.
Sighing, she walked over to the phone, flinging the sweatpants over her shoulder onto the dresser across the room behind her. Quickly, before she chickened out, Chloe dialed the Jamison residence in Holtsville, South Carolina.
The phone rang three times. “Hello.”
“How are you doing, Nana Lil?” she asked, forcing gaiety into her voice.
“Chloe?”
“Yes ma’am. How’ve you been?”
“Hi stranger! You know, I’m gonna get you for runnin’ off up that road and not coming to see me first.”
Chloe closed her eyes against a wave of homesickness that hit her at the warm, deep southern accent in Lil’s voice. “I’m sorry about that but things got a little hectic. How’s everybody doing?”
“Shawnie’s still sniffing around Poochie and Devon’s grouchy as a bear woke up early from hibernation.” Lil sighed. “You know, Chloe, just because you and Vonnie had a falling out didn’t mean you had to move back to New York.”
“That’s not the only reason I came to New York,” Chloe assured her. “I was nominated for an award and the ceremonies are next week, here in New York. That’s the original reason for my trip here; I just came a little earlier after our argument. At first I was only going to be here for two weeks and I told him this.”
Lil sighed in pleasure. “Congratulations sugar, and I hope you win. But why didn’t you just tell Devon that’s why you had to go back?”
The older woman’s voice was obviously confused, but Chloe shook her head, ready to voice her protest. “Nana Lil, when I first told Devon about my going to New York he didn’t care about why. Then the next day we argued over a message an ex-boyfriend left on my answering machine. A message that he overheard and misunderstood.”
“Calvin?”
“Yes.”
“Baby, it’s none of my business, but are you back with him?”
“No . . . heavens no, Nana Lil,” Chloe shrieked, slumping down onto the bed among the disheveled sheets and duvet. “I never told you, but I caught Calvin in the bed with . . . another woman. That’s why we’re not together.”
Admission of Love Page 24