Until her husband stopped being intimate with her.
Suspicion and jealousy drove her to hire a PI.
The detective monitored her husband for two weeks, and she wasn’t surprised to see him at different hotels. It was the image of Allegra St. Cloud entering and leaving those places before and after him that sent her into a tailspin.
She confronted him, ferociously. For the first time ever, she’d seen fear in his eyes, and when he promised to break things off with Allegra St. Cloud, she believed him.
But just because he stopped seeing that whore, it did not mean he was over her.
And that was the greatest pain of all.
#
He waited a few minutes before going upstairs. When he entered the bedroom, the door to the master bathroom was closed and he heard water running. His wife was taking a bath.
Good. He needed some time alone.
He sat down on the bed and took off his tie, thoughts of Allegra spinning around in his head.
He met her when his company was looking for an ad agency to pitch their services. Though her firm didn’t win the account, he made sure to leave his business card with Allegra. She was more than stunning. She had an unquestionable energy and sensuality that crackled around her, touching everyone within its radius and within two weeks they were sleeping together.
Allegra always picked the hotel and never let him stay with her after sex. She was the best lover he’d ever had. She enjoyed sex, and was very vocal with it, but she never attached herself to someone afterwards, physically or emotionally. She was like shadows and smoke; no one could hold or touch her, and she belonged to no one.
His brow contracted as his mind burned with a memory…
They’d just finished having mind-blowing sex and he gave in to the desire to fold her in his embrace. His hands explored the hollow of her back before attempting to wrap his arms around her midriff. She swung her head around to look at him and he thought he detected laughter in her eyes. “What are you doing?”
Abashed, he felt his back stiffen and removed his arm. With a casual movement, he sat up and smiled. “No harm, no foul, right?” he deflected in a mild tone.
“Okay.” She pulled the sheet up to her waist. “Sure.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking.” His eyes darkened with emotion. “About us.
Allegra blinked, her eyes sharp and assessing. “Really?”
“We’ve been seeing each other for few months now. Why don’t we…change locations?”
“To where?”
“My apartment in Charlotte. We can go there on weekends.”
“And what about your wife?”
“I do business in Charlotte at least twice a month, overnight. She won’t suspect anything. And maybe,” he bent down her kiss her lips, “we won’t have hide after a while. We can…make it permanent.”
“I won’t be a kept woman.”
“I don’t want you to be. I’m talking about something more…official.”
A long, slim index finger trailed down his chest. “Are you saying that you want to leave your wife? For me?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes grew amused. “What would your friends and colleagues say? I’m truly flattered, but no thanks. Sex is honest. Let’s keep it that way.”
It was bad enough that she rejected him, but now she made fun of him, too. In a matter of seconds, Allegra hurt him more than any woman ever had, but he didn’t let it show…
His vision cleared as his mind returned to the present. For the first time in thirty years, he wanted to end his marriage, and be with the woman he loved. But when that woman laughed at him, the pain was almost more than he could bear.
#
The next afternoon, Anthony was finishing a workout in the basement when the doorbell rang. Ming let out several short, deep-chest barks and ran upstairs, informing the unknown visitor of his presence. Anthony grabbed a towel that hung on the banister and followed. Wiping his face, he wrapped the towel around his neck and looked through the peephole. It was Kevin.
Anthony turned off the alarm and swung the door open. There was a sinking feeling in his chest when he saw Kevin’s right eye twitch. “What’s wrong?”
Ming barked and darted back and forth.
Anthony snapped his fingers. He gave Ming a directive and the dog went upstairs.
“Someone vandalized Allegra’s last night,” Kevin answered, “and broke a window.”
Anthony’s protective instincts roared to life and he started to rush upstairs to change clothes, but Kevin’s hand on his forearm stopped him. “Mariah’s shaken up, but otherwise fine. The glass has been fixed and we agreed not to say anything to Gran D or Aunt Anna, but I figured you’d want to know.” Kevin gave him a look. “Don’t tell her I told you.”
Anthony scrubbed his hand across his jaw. Given their last encounter, Mariah would not want to see him. Instinct told Anthony to check on her, but he made himself fight it. “I won’t say anything to her,” he affirmed, “for now.”
#
It was a overcast day when Mariah approached Gran D’s driveway. Blankets of fog covered the streets, appearing to touch the ground with wispy fingers, making her drive a few miles under the speed limit. Gran D’s home was second from the end of the street and not far from Martin Luther King, Jr. Boulevard. The street had several ranch houses on it, nicely spaced apart. She had an acre of land and a small section was set aside for planting. Green beans and tomatoes were already sprouting, and just in case small animals tried to destroy her crops, a scarecrow and some chicken wire were in place. Gran D belonged to the old school: canned vegetables from the grocery store were okay, but there was nothing like growing your own.
There were no fences around any of the properties, but a line of bushes delineated the boundaries of each home. It was an older neighborhood where home values probably hadn’t reached one hundred thousand yet. That was low, compared to the property values in North and Northwest Raleigh, where prices ranged from over one hundred thousand to the millions.
Sam Cooke’s “Long Time Comin’” spilled through an open front window as Mariah hitched her purse over her shoulder and approached the house.
Gran D appeared at the screen door, wiping her hands on her jean shorts. Her off-white shirt magnified the richness of her skin. The elderly woman gave Mariah a big hug before she could get into the house. She released Mariah, keeping a possessive hand on her granddaughter’s arm. Her eyes traveled the length of Mariah’s outfit. “Ya look like a li’l sunflower. Come on, I’ve fixed a li’l somethin’.”
Mariah followed, smoothing out the wrinkles of her dark yellow sundress, and limped into the kitchen in her flip flops. She placed her purse on the chair next to her and accepted the plate Gran D had prepared. Gran D’s “li’l somethin’” usually turned out to be a big meal, soul food: collard greens with ham, macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, cornbread and apple pie filled one large plate. A tall glass of sweet tea sat to the left.
After a prayer, Mariah picked up a fork and dug into the vegetables. She always ate them first.
Gran D sat across from her. “Have ya talked to Anthony?”
Mariah shook her head, focusing on her food. “Mr. Moneybags? No.”
Gran D gave Mariah a sidelong glance of utter disbelief. “He told ya ‘bout that?”
“In a roundabout way,” Mariah dodged.
Gran D studied her granddaughter for a moment. “I doubt that. Anthony not much for beatin’ ‘round the bush. Anyway, it’s a blessin’ that he lives nearby. Isn’t it?”
“He’s very capable,” came Mariah’s noncommittal reply. She raised her eyes to find Gran D watching her. “What?”
“Ya don’t like him.”
Mariah’s fork stopped moving. “What makes you say that?” she evaded with a significant lifting of her brows.
“I know ya, girl.”
“Speaking of him,” Mariah interjected without confirming or denying her grandmother’s observ
ation, “when were you going to tell me that you’d given him a set of keys to the house, or that he’s Thomas’s cousin?”
Gran D stirred in her chair and pulled down her glasses, staring at Mariah over the rim. “That house is still mine ‘til ya name is on the title. As far as Anthony’s concerned, those questions are his to answer, not mine.”
Mariah’s eyes enlarged with accusation. “But he knows about Terry, and probably my father, too.”
Gran D bristled with indignation and shot to her feet for someone of her advanced years. “That bump on ya head’s got ya talkin’ crazy, girl. Let’s get one thing straight, Mariah Janelle Cloud. All he knows is that Terry didn’t deserve ya and neither did ya no-good father. He knows that whenever ya set your mind to somethin’ and got it, I was proud. That’s what he knows.”
Mariah’s voice drifted into a hushed whisper as her eyes darted away from her grandmother. “I’m sorry.”
The elderly woman squared her shoulders, the material of her shirt tightening across them. “Ya should be.” She sat back down, her elbows on the table, her hands clasped in front of her. “He said ya quite stubborn.” She pushed her glasses up.
“Did he?” Mariah’s eyes narrowed as they connected with her grandmother’s. “And did he tell you how overbearing he is? I told him I wouldn’t need him anymore. He lets himself in without warning. I tell the man, ‘I’m fine’ so that he can go home, and he takes the knife out of my hand, pushes me out of the way to make my salad, then tells me to ‘have a seat’ like he’s in charge.”
Gran D regarded Mariah, pulling down her glasses again. “Anthony pushed ya?”
Mariah’s conviction faltered a little under the weight of Gran D’s stare. “He didn’t exactly push me, but he didn’t have to take over, either.”
“Humph.”
“I know a lot of women would’ve taken advantage of his help, but that’s not me. He’s efficient and unbelievably handsome, but –”
“So ya noticed?”
Mariah rolled her eyes. “Gran D. Please. Dead women in a morgue would’ve sat up and noticed.”
Gran D shook with full-hearted laughter.
Mariah’s spirits lifted a little. Gran D hadn’t laughed since Allegra died. Mariah was glad to hear it, even if it was at her expense.
Mariah watched her grandmother with a critical squint. “Has he always been so… insistent?”
Gran D sobered. “Life with his mama…was full of troubles. He had to take care of himself, and that meant takin’ charge. Then when Lilly died…” Gran D sighed and gave Mariah a pointed look. “He can be a bit much sometimes, ’specially when it comes to takin’ care of others, but he means well.”
“What happened to his mother?”
Gran D shook her head and the line of her lips compressed. “Ya have to ask him.”
Her comment made Mariah even more curious.
#
Anthony slowed his pace as he neared the tree-lined street of his home, sweat trickling down the side of his face, saturating his T-shirt. Ming loped beside him, his pink tongue hanging out of one side of his mouth. The day was a bit steamy, but even after his years in New York City, Anthony could still deal with the North Carolina heat, to a point.
Anthony started running after his mother’s sister took him in. It was free, alleviated stress − something he had plenty of growing up with her − and it kept him out of her house so she wasn’t making demands. After Anthony entered the academy, he ran a couple of miles several days a week in all types of weather, unless a severe snowstorm or heat wave hit. Running built his stamina, which helped when chasing down suspects, and he stayed the course ever since.
Since his argument with Mariah, he ran twice a day. It was either that, or cold showers.
Anthony came to an intersection and waited for the light to turn red before running across. Ming tried to run ahead of him, but Anthony reined him in.
Not far from home now, he thought. Anthony’s house, brick and split-level with three bedrooms and two baths, wasn’t far from the intersection of Creedmoor and Lynn Road. On his block, the house was one of the few that had a basement, which was why he bought it three months ago.
Many conveniences abounded here. Anthony was close to the three malls, Triangle Town Center, Crabtree Valley and North Hills Mall. I-40, a major highway that stretched passed Asheville and the Blue Ridge Mountains near the Tennessee/North Carolina border to Wilmington and its beautiful beach on the East Coast was about 15 minutes away during light traffic, and he could reach Allegra’s house in five.
Anthony had a condo in Queens, but always longed for a house. He was thirty-eight years old and planned to have a wife and kids one day, and this place would accommodate a growing family, thanks to some wise investments. Besides, he craved the space, the ability to walk from one room to the other and not hear his neighbors through the walls. He craved a home, something he lost when he was five, and then again at ten.
He unhooked Ming’s leash and the dog went straight to the water bowl in the dining room. Anthony showered and then fixed lunch. Thoughts of Mariah intruded as he ate. He knew she wasn’t in danger because Kevin would’ve told him otherwise, but he wanted to know more. So, he picked up the phone to call Ms. D.
#
Oh, no.
The sky was so bright it hurt the eyes, but there Anthony was, shirtless, pushing a lawn mower across Gran D’s grass as the sun beat down on him.
Mariah wanted to deny that he’d been on her mind since their last encounter, but she couldn’t. She wished she could blame the explosive currents that raced through her at the sight of him on the hot breeze that rustled the tree leaves, lifted the ends of her hair and floated up her dress, skimming the insides of her legs, but she knew better.
Mariah started salivating like Pavlov’s dog as she got out of the car, and she was glad her sunglasses shielded the fact that she watched Anthony like a hungry lioness.
Chapter 5
Mariah squared her shoulders and pushed her sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t evade the man forever, and after her talk with Gran D her stance softened somewhat. Anthony was a bit forceful, but he did take good care of her. Besides, it would be rude to ignore him.
She raised a slim arm and waved as he turned around.
Anthony touched two fingers to his forehead and returned to his work. Even though Mariah wasn’t expecting him to do cartwheels when he saw her, she felt snubbed by his response; it felt like he was mocking her.
She straightened her shoulders and entered the house. “It’s me,” Mariah announced and placed her purse on the couch.
Gran D came out of the kitchen, wiping a wet spot on her black shorts with a dishtowel. The ends of her wavy hair brushed the shoulders of her tan T-shirt. “Please tell Anthony to come inside and get some water. He’s been workin’ hard for over an hour.” She returned to the kitchen, the dull sound of her house slippers shuffling on the carpet.
Mariah moistened her lips and did as her grandmother asked.
#
Anthony turned off the mower. He’d seen Mariah out of the corner of his eye when she drove up and couldn’t help the burst of adrenaline that raced through his veins. He was irritated with Mariah for ignoring his call, but he couldn’t deny how good she looked in her light yellow sundress that attracted one’s eye to her shapely legs. If only she knew how her presence made his nerves stand up.
When she got within five feet of him, he looked over his shoulder, his eyes studying her with pointed deliberation.
#
Mariah felt her self-control slip. She tried not to make any noise as she approached. How did he know she was so close? “Water break.” She pointed a thumb in the direction of the house. “Gran D’s orders.”
He nodded and grabbed his white T-shirt off the chicken wire fence. Mariah swallowed hard as she watched the slabs of moist abdominal muscles ripple when slipped his arms into the sleeves.
Mariah realized that she wa
s still looking at Anthony’s bare abs, because he tugged the shirt over his head and chest, then stopped and stared at her.
When their eyes met, electricity zapped between them, and though the exchange was only a split second, it felt like eons.
Caught, Mariah turned back to the house to hide her embarrassment. “I’ll tell Gran D you’re coming.”
#
Gran D ushered Anthony to a seat at the kitchen table after he wiped the sweat off his brow with a small towel and washed his hands. She patted his firm shoulder and slid a plate and tall glass in front of him. “Here’s some apple pie and glass of water just for bein’ so helpful.”
Seeing the elderly woman directing the larger, younger man into a chair would have amused Mariah, if her body didn’t feel so warm and responsive whenever he was around.
“It’s no problem, Ms. D.” As he dug a fork into the dessert, he looked up at Mariah from beneath his brows. “What about you?”
Mariah started to shake her head, and then changed her mind. Refusing a slice of pie just to impress him reeked of vanity, and there was no reason for it. It’s not like she was the beauty in the family.
#
When Ms. D went to check on her garden, Anthony saw how Mariah left the table and headed to the sink. She washed her dish and glass for nearly two minutes.
Mariah was trying to avoid him. Again.
The muscles of his jaw compressed. Screw that.
He rose in one fluid motion, with the empty plate and fork in one hand and the glass in the other, pushing the chair away with the backs of his knees. Her stoic pretense made him want to do something childish – like pull her hair – just to get a rise out of her. Something inside him couldn’t help it, when he knew she was attracted to him, too.
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