Some Like It Hot

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Some Like It Hot Page 17

by Brenda Jackson


  “But I had a job, Mitch. I worked every day and had money.”

  “Yes, but I felt that as your husband I was supposed to take care of you and provide you with the things you needed and wanted. I was determined to take care of you, and in order to do that it meant I had to work hard and move up in my career. At some point I became unable to separate work and play. Other than sex, work was what energized me.”

  “And what about now, Mitch?” she asked softly, wanting to know, needing to know. “What energizes you now?”

  He smiled across the table at her. “You. With you I’d rather play than work.”

  “Why now and not before?”

  “Because I’ve changed and I’ve allowed my priorities to change. And because I’ve been so damn miserable without you in my life, Gina.”

  She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that he was no longer working himself to death and that his life was more manageable now than it had been when they were married. She wanted to believe all of that, but a part of her was afraid to. The last thing she wanted was a repeat performance of pain in her life. “When you finish eating, how about we take a walk and I can complete the list of questions I have for today?”

  Mitch nodded. He knew that she was deliberately bringing the interview to an end for now. She didn’t want to accept that workaholism was a disease just like alcoholism and that people could become bona fide workaholics. One day he would tell her how he had met Ivan Spears, a successful banker, at a gym, and how Ivan, a former workaholic himself, had talked him into attending a Workaholics Anonymous meeting. Ivan had organized a group of men and women—all African-Americans—who were in the same predicament as him. After several meetings they had helped each other realize that, as African-Americans, they shared the belief that giving one hundred percent in the corporate workplace wasn’t enough. They had to give one hundred and fifty percent or even more to reach the same success level as their white counterparts. Being supportive of each other had helped. And although they couldn’t change the way corporate America operated, at least they knew what they had to do to recover from workaholism.

  “Mitch?”

  He smiled across the table, bringing his thoughts back to her suggestion. “All right. After lunch we’ll go for a walk.”

  Nine

  “Your father still doesn’t believe in sugarcoating his words, I see,” Mitch said as he opened the door to Gina’s house. They were just returning from dinner at her parents’.

  Gina smiled. Considering everything, she thought the evening had gone rather well. At least Mitch was still alive and in good health. After their divorce her father had claimed that he would do bodily harm to Mitch if he ever came within five feet of her again. He had behaved himself at Trevor’s wedding reception, and had even tolerated the two of them dancing together, but only because at the time he and her mother had reconciled after a twenty-year separation and had been too busy acting like newlyweds themselves to worry about her.

  “Dad is Dad, I doubt he’ll ever change, Mitch. I’m sure Mom told him that you spent the night, and he’s still overprotective where I’m concerned.”

  Mitch nodded, thinking that was an understatement. However, he had to admit that during his and Gina’s marriage, Maurice Grant had never meddled in their affairs. Once he had turned his daughter over to Mitch’s care as her husband, that had been that. But Mitch knew he had let the man down. He had promised to love, honor, and cherish Gina and he hadn’t always done that. He had loved her with every breath in his body; he also felt he had honored her as well. But he had been sorely lacking with the cherishing part. He had been too busy working long and extended hours to cherish anything. He now regretted every minute he had stayed late at the office instead of going home and spending time with her.

  “It’s strange seeing your parents together that way,” he said, following Gina into her kitchen.

  A smile curled her lips as she began making a pot of coffee, remembering how openly affectionate her parents were to each other. “I know. It takes some getting used to. Dad loves Mom and she loves him. Too bad they had all those wasted years when they could have been together.”

  Mitch nodded. “Yeah, but they’re together now and that’s what’s important.”

  “You’re right and they just love being grandparents. Did you see how they carried on over Rio?” She laughed. “That baby is going to be spoiled rotten.”

  Mitch chuckled. “Hey, you were doing a pretty good job spoiling him yourself tonight, Aunt Gina. For a while I thought he was glued to your arms.”

  Gina leaned against the counter knowing that was true. It seemed that every time she held Rio, the desire for a child of her own pierced her heart. He was such a good baby, a beautiful and precious baby who would grow up in his parents’ deep love and protection.

  “You’ve gotten quiet, Gina. What are you thinking about?”

  She looked up at Mitch and decided to be honest with him. “I was thinking about Rio and how each and every time I hold him I wish I had a child of my own. I’ve always wanted a baby.”

  Mitch looked into her eyes and knew he had disappointed her in that department, too. He distinctly remembered the number of times she had asked, almost begged, for them to start a family and how he had refused her on the grounds that he wasn’t ready to become a father. He had to be sure he could successfully provide for a child before agreeing to bring one into the world. He hadn’t realized until now just how wrong and selfish he had been to withhold from her the very thing that would have made her happy.

  With a deep ragged sigh, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Gina.”

  “For what?” she asked, liking the feel of being held by him, pressed so close to his strong body. His chest felt wonderful against her chin.

  “For all those times you asked me for a baby and I refused to give you one.”

  A tiny, sad smile touched Gina’s lips. “That’s all right, I understand.”

  Mitch looked down at her. “Do you, Gina? Do you really understand? I don’t think so, because I’ve yet to give you a reason to understand. And now I think it’s time that I do.”

  Gina saw the intense look on his face and knew whatever he had to tell her would be serious. “All right.” She nodded. “Give me a second to pour us a cup of coffee and then we can sit at the table and talk.”

  “Okay.”

  A few minutes later they were settled in chairs at her kitchen table. She said nothing as she waited for Mitch to begin speaking.

  “I never told you everything about my uncle Jasper. I know I told you he had a drinking problem and that he was stingy, but I never went into the extent of emotional abuse that I had to deal with, too. He wanted me to believe that I was dumb, worthless, and no good, and he spent every day that I lived with him telling me that. Most of the time he didn’t feed me. For a while I had to eat scraps anywhere I could find them to survive. Other times I went hungry.”

  Gina was appalled. “Weren’t there agencies around that were supposed to check to make sure you were getting the proper care?”

  “Yeah, I suppose there were. But I figured I somehow had fallen through the cracks. Once I ran away, and when I was returned to him, he gave me the beating of my life. In fact it almost ended my life it was so severe. The check he was getting every month was what enabled him to buy his booze and his women, and he wasn’t about to let me get away.”

  “Oh, Mitch.”

  He sat across from her and saw the deep emotions in her face and the mistiness that appeared in her eyes. She was sad because of what had happened to him. Reaching across the table, he captured her hand in his. “Don’t be sad for me, Gina, because I survived. Every night that I went to bed hungry and every day that I went to school ashamed of how I looked made me that much more determined to grow up and make something of myself. I tried so hard, but at times it seemed that no matter how much I studied and tried to do well in school, I couldn’t. I would sit in class so hung
ry that I couldn’t concentrate. But I did finish school, and the following day, without taking anything with me, I left Uncle Jasper’s house and vowed never to return.”

  “Good for you.”

  Mitch smiled. “Yeah, I thought it was good for me, but I still found things hard. Still, I had a determination that no amount of starvation had gotten rid of. I was determined to be successful, no matter what it took. I applied for a loan to go to college and worked two jobs while attending classes, and I kept those same two jobs when I went on to grad school. I had also made up my mind never to become involved with anyone until I had accomplished all my goals. I read every motivational, rags-to-riches book I could get my hands on, and in the end I knew what I had to do. I had to work hard and use my brains.”

  Gina’s heart went out to Mitch for all he had endured. Now she finally understood why he had been so obsessed with making it to the top, why he had been so driven to be successful. She then remembered what he had told her earlier that day. “You really did become a workaholic, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” He was glad she finally understood things. “I also became a perfectionist. Everything had to be perfect and timed correctly. The reason I couldn’t think about us having a child was because in my mind the timing wasn’t right.”

  She nodded and looked at him. “What about marrying me? Had the time been right for that?”

  He released her hand and smoothed his fingers across her bare arm before saying, “No, the timing was all wrong. I hadn’t counted on falling in love with you, Gina. But you came into my life and I couldn’t get you out. And for the first time I became obsessed with something other than making it to the top. I knew somehow and some way I had to have you and still be successful, and I really thought it would work.”

  “But it didn’t.”

  He chuckled. “It sure as hell didn’t. From the beginning you demanded my time, more time than I had ever given anyone. And I found myself liking it. I enjoyed being in bed with you more than I enjoyed attending some seminar about how to succeed in life. I found myself watching the clock every day at work, counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds when I could leave the office to go home and be with you. I used to sit in board meetings and remember how it had been the night before to slip inside your body and reach an orgasm with your name on my lips.” He smiled. “I had it pretty bad.”

  Gina swallowed the lump in her throat as she remembered the first year of their marriage, when Mitch had given her so much attention and so much love. “When did you realize that?” she asked softly.

  “When my boss called me into his office and said that I didn’t seem as focused as I had once been, and wasn’t as sharp and dedicated as I used to be. He thought that maybe something was wrong at home. I was too obtuse to tell him that it was just the opposite and that everything was right at home—my wife was wonderful and my life was happy and I had found a way to balance both work and home. Instead, in my mind I took his words to be synonymous with what my uncle used to say about me. And a part of me was determined to prove him wrong. So I began working harder and staying at the office later.”

  He drew a long breath before continuing. “That meant putting you second and my career first. That also meant not giving in to anything I thought would set us back. I had my eye on a house in McGregor Park. It had always been my dream to live there.”

  Gina nodded. McGregor Park was a very old, established and exclusive area of Houston where the well-to-do lived. “If you felt I was a threat to your career plans, why didn’t you just divorce me, Mitch?” she asked, seeing and now understanding the extent of what he’d been going through.

  “Because as much as I wanted to be successful, and as much as I wanted all those goals I had been determined to achieve, I loved you and couldn’t give you up. I had convinced myself that in time I would be able to handle both you and work. It hadn’t dawned on me then that a workaholic is never satisfied. They constantly take personal inventory and come up with other things to aspire to and they buy into the belief that more money will solve all the problems in their life.”

  He was silent for a brief moment before saying, “After our divorce I realized the mistakes I had made. I had never really given our marriage a chance to work because of the way I was.”

  He sighed deeply. “I joined Workaholics Anonymous and met other men and women like myself who were suffering from the same affliction. My group consisted of African-Americans who knew that the issues we face in corporate America aren’t faced by our white counterparts. We have helped each other tremendously, most of us have since recovered and have found that balance between work and family.”

  He captured her hand in his again. “I love you, Gina. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d like you to give us another chance.”

  Another chance? Gina felt battered from her emotions, she could barely think straight. “Mitch, I don’t know. I need time to think. You shared a lot with me tonight. Most were things you should have shared with me long ago. Then I could have been more supportive and understanding. But I don’t know if we can put the past behind us.”

  “We can at least try, can’t we? I don’t expect you to make a decision tonight, Gina, or even this week or this month. All I want is for you to agree to let me back into your life. I want to see you, be with you, as a friend and a lover. I want you to give me the opportunity to make things up to you, to wipe the slate clean and start fresh. I want to have the chance to prove that I do love you and that I have always loved you and that I will always love you. Will you agree to at least give me a chance, Gina?”

  She sat still, unsure of herself and the situation Mitch had placed her in. She looked down at their joined hands. He wanted them to establish a relationship; a very serious and exclusive relationship. He wanted to be her friend and her lover. But what happened if things between them didn’t work out? What if…

  “Gina?”

  She slowly lifted her gaze, suddenly ensnarled in the imposing silence that filled the room and the heat that flowed from his eyes to hers. This was the man who had taught her everything she knew about the physical aspects of love. He was the man who had provided so much for her while they were married.

  She sighed deeply. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she loved him and wished she had been stronger and had fought harder for him and their marriage. But she had to wonder if love would be enough. It hadn’t been the last time, and she didn’t think she could go through that again. But a part of her was willing to do what he asked and give him—give them—another chance. They were sleeping together again anyway, and she didn’t see that coming to an end any time soon—especially when her body wanted him something fierce. She might as well have a relationship with him, because like she had told her mother, she had never been into casual sex, and without a relationship, that’s what sleeping with him would become: casual, a way to appease her sexual hunger. And he meant more to her than just a bed partner.

  “All right, Mitch,” she finally said. “We’ll date and do the relationship thing. But if things don’t work out the way we think they should, then we should bring things to an end, before either of us gets hurt. Agreed?”

  He looked from her face to their joined hands and then back to her face again. He gave a satisfied nod and said, “Agreed.”

  Ten

  During the following weeks, Mitch and Gina settled into a nice, satisfying routine. She had finished the interview and had given him the rough copy to read and approve. He had told her he had been impressed with what she had written. The article would satisfy the public’s curiosity but at the same time keep his privacy—and his secrets—intact.

  Work had started on the ranch house and she was astonished with the results. Retaining the structure of the original house, the Madaris Construction Company was fulfilling Mitch’s dream of returning his grandmother’s home to the place he remembered and loved.

  Their relationship blossomed more every day, and on occasion, they would dine with her p
arents. She had explained her and Mitch’s relationship to her family and had been adamant that they understood that just because they were together as a couple did not necessarily mean that they would remarry. At the present what they were trying to do was build a solid relationship, one that could and would withstand anything, especially the pressures of marriage.

  She found that she and Mitch were communicating more. She also found herself included in a number of his business decisions, and he often asked her advice and opinions on a lot of issues. They spent every night together, either at her place or his, and Gina had to admit that she was the happiest she had been in a long time.

  “You’re glowing, Gina.”

  Gina smiled as she looked up and met Corinthians’s smile. The two of them had decided to do lunch together at Sisters when Gina’s mother had eagerly volunteered to keep Rio. “Am I?”

  Corinthians arched a dark brow and returned Gina’s smile. “Yes, you are. In fact you are glowing all over the place.” She tilted her head to study her. “You have a certain look about you. It’s a happy and a serene look, a satisfied look. I would say Mitch definitely agrees with you.”

  Gina chuckled. “Thanks, I think I’ll keep him around.”

  Corinthians’s smile widened. “Does that mean the two of you have finally decided to remarry?”

  Gina frowned. “No, it means just what I said: I think I will keep him around.”

  Corinthians placed her menu aside and leaned back in her chair. “And how long before you decide to make a decision on your future with him?”

  “There’s no rush.”

  “Maybe not for you, but it’s obvious that Mitch would remarry you in a heartbeat if you gave the word. What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.”

 

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