Queen of His Heart

by Adrianne Byrd

  “When the hell did this happen?” Martina snapped, whipping back her ice-blue hair.

  Jalila forced a casual shrug. “Last week. And he’s my ex-producer. No way am I going to do that show now.”

  Martina continued to look incredulous. “After all that time I put in vetting those men? Oh, you’re doing the show.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I just told you why not. Weren’t you listening?” Jalila’s irritation mounted.

  Martina chuckled. “No. You just told us how you got laid—and surprise, surprise, you still ain’t got a man.”

  “Ouch.” Jalila flinched.

  “Martina, behave,” Fantasia chastised.

  “What? I’m just telling it like it is. The whole point of this was for her to find herself a man, a soul mate, a husband. At least that’s what y’all told me. Now if you’re saying that you don’t want that—cool. You know how I feel about a brotha puttin’ a sista on lock anyway. Frankly, I’m tired of hearing the girl whining all over town and on the Internet about how she can’t find nobody. But if this is something that you still want, why are you going to let some fancy Hollywood producer play you? You better get your head in the game.”

  Jalila shifted in her chair, listening.

  “Do the show,” Martina insisted. “Prove to Mr. Hollywood that one monkey don’t stop no show.”

  Fantasia glanced over at Jalila. “I hate to admit it, but she has a point.”

  Jalila didn’t want to, but she felt herself begin to sulk. “If I do the show then that means that I’ll have to see him again.”

  “Not necessarily. Given how he hasn’t called you back, he’ll probably steer clear of you.”

  Despite trying to put on a brave face, Jalila’s anger gave way enough for her to admit the awful and embarrassing truth. “You ladies just don’t understand.”

  “Make us understand.” Fantasia reached over and covered her hand.

  “It’s just that—that night…”

  “Yeah?” Martina and Fantasia leaned in.

  Jalila still fumbled for the right words.

  “He was good, wasn’t he?” Martina guessed with a wicked smile creeping across her lips. “Go ahead. Tell the truth and shame the devil. He knew his way around a bedroom, didn’t he?”

  “The bedroom? Hell, my body,” Jalila finally confessed. “Girlz, that man had me doing things I had no business doing the first time with a man.”

  “Whoooooo!” Martina screamed and then clapped her hands and stomped her feet. “I knew it. I knew it just by looking at his fine ass that he could lay the pipe.”

  The other diners swirled their heads in their direction.

  “Will you keep it down?” Jalila asked, her face burning with embarrassment.

  “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,” Martina carried on.

  Fantasia bobbed her head in shy agreement. “The thought did cross my mind.”

  “Well, at least one of us got his butt,” Martina said. “I know I was sweating him myself.”

  Jealousy kicked Jalila in the gut. “You were?”

  “You weren’t?” Martina tossed back at her. “The man is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, big chest and an ass I betcha I can bounce a quarter off. How could a woman not look at him and think of sex? Shoot, I bet he could power drill—”

  “Okay. Okay. I get it.” Jalila paused. “And yes he can.”

  “Whoooooooo!” Martina screamed.

  Jalila and Fantasia laughed.

  “So you’re going to do the show?”

  Jalila was tempted. “Maybe I’m just embarrassed by how much of a ho I acted like.”

  “See. That’s why you don’t have your kitty-kat on lock that long. Can’t let that pressure build like that. It ain’t natural. Sheeeit. You sure he snuck out? Maybe the paramedics carried him out. You check the hospitals?”

  Jalila cracked up.

  “I can see him now, lying in a hospital bed with a broke dick.”

  The girls howled until there were tears running down their eyes. Jalila needed this, and after an hour of female bonding, her confidence was restored. Maybe Martina was right. Heck, maybe she was the one that was reading too much into what had happened the other night. There were no promises made, no vows broken. It was just…sex. Nothing more—nothing less.

  “I’m so glad that I talked to you girls about this.”

  “That’s what we’re here for,” Fantasia said. “Does this mean that you’ll do the show now?”

  “Well, since I still don’t have a man—I don’t see why not.”

  “Then let’s make a toast.” Martina held up her glass.

  Jalila and Fantasia followed her lead.

  “To Jalila, may she find her soul mate on Queen of Hearts.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Jalila said and then tipped her glass against theirs. Who knew, maybe it just might happen.

  Keenan felt like an asshole—and that was putting it mildly.

  Every time he picked up the phone to call Jalila, he hung up. What exactly was he going to say? Hey, thanks for that night of incredible sex but I’m just not looking for a relationship right now?

  The words were true, but complicated by the fact that he knew that she was looking for a relationship—a relationship that he was supposed to be helping her find.

  For the past week, Keenan hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything. His mind just kept playing that wonderful night over and over in his head. No one woman had the right to taste and feel that damn good. Not to mention the number of times he’d had tears in his eyes.

  Tears!

  Oh, no. He shook his head. The situation just wouldn’t work. He’d vowed five years ago that he would never let a woman leave him strung out again. Besides, he knew what Jalila was all about. She wanted the whole enchilada: the ring, the house, the two-point-five children. Keenan had already tried that path before. It wasn’t for him.

  His interest in Jalila Goodwyn started and ended with a television series. Business. Nothing more.

  Then why the hell were you so eager to take her to bed?

  “Hell, she’s beautiful,” he argued with himself. “We’d been drinking and then the music and then…I kissed her.” He swallowed the thick lump clogging his throat as he remembered. “And…damn the things she could do with her mouth.” He expelled a long sigh and his body shuddered with a phantom orgasm.

  The taping for Queen of Hearts was to start next week. So far, he hadn’t heard a word about whether Jalila was pulling out. He was relieved and disappointed at the same time. If she elected to still do the show, then he had every intention of steering clear of the set. Nitara was more than capable of overseeing everything. He needed to focus on finding new material for the winter and summer seasons.

  He spent most of the morning networking and combing through some potential material with the William Morris Agency before rushing back to his office for an afternoon conference call with NBC studios. However, when he walked into the office, Dee Dee was blasting the Fugees’s “Killing Me Softly” from her iPod.

  “Turn that off,” he snapped.

  When Dee Dee jumped, he softened his tone. “I mean, please turn that off.”

  She rushed over to her iPod and shut it off, still looking as if he’d slapped her or something. He marched into his office.

  “Oh, you have a visitor,” she called to him just as his hand landed on the doorknob.

  He turned. “Who is it?”

  “Tenetria.”

  Keenan’s heart sank. He didn’t need this right now. “Did she say what she wanted?”

  “Why don’t you come in here and ask me?” Tenetria shouted through the door.

  Keenan rolled his eyes.

  “Sorry,” Dee Dee whispered, frowning.

  Keenan drew a deep breath and then marched into his office like a soldier off to war. The minute he entered, his gaze zoned in on his ex-wife sitting behind his desk with her legs propped u
p.

  “Comfortable?”

  Tenetria smiled. “I figured that you wouldn’t mind if I made myself at home.”

  “As a matter of fact—” he closed the door “—I do mind.” He walked toward his chair and then waited for her to stand up.

  “Aren’t you at least going to say hello first, sweetheart?”

  His brows lifted. “Sweetheart?” He chuckled. “Endearments usually mean you want something.”

  Tenetria lowered her legs from his desk and slowly rose to her feet. The moment was undoubtedly meant for him to get a good long look down her pink shirt. “I just wanted to try the chair out for size,” she taunted. With a catlike smile, she walked her fingers up his chest.

  Keenan’s face turned into stone as he swiped her hand away. “I’m not in the mood for any of your games.” He moved around her and dropped into his chair.

  “Now to what do I owe this wonderful honor?” he asked sarcastically.

  “I need some money,” she said.

  “Ha! Don’t tell me that you’ve already run through the ten and a half million you got in the divorce.”

  Tenetria shrugged. “I may have made a few bad investments.”

  “I’ve been there before.” Keenan’s gaze raked over her so that she didn’t miss his meaning.

  “Ha-ha. I’m serious.” She lowered herself into the chair across from his desk.

  “I’m serious, too. And in case you’ve forgotten, we’re divorced. I’m no longer your personal ATM. If you made some bad investments maybe you should write Congress and apply for a bailout. I can’t help you.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “What difference does it make? The bottom line is that I’m no longer capitalizing your drug habits, shopping sprees and eighteen-year-old boyfriends.”

  “There’s no need to get nasty.”

  “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.” He glanced at his watch. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a phone conference to prepare for.” He left the sentence hanging in the air between them.

  Bitter disappointment twisted Tenetria’s face. “Please don’t make me beg.” Her chin dropped a few notches. “I really do need some money. The house has been foreclosed on, the Mercedes has been repossessed and what money I did invest was tied up with some jackass in New York running a ponzi scheme. I have nowhere to go. I’m flat broke. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

  Keenan’s heart tugged and he dropped his harsh tone. “What about your parents?”

  Tenetria rolled her eyes. “I can’t go back there,” she murmured.

  What she meant was that she wouldn’t go back there—not after she’d treated everyone like dirt when she had money. She wasn’t humble like her sister Nitara. Money had changed Tenetria, and to go crawling back empty-handed would be a humiliating experience for her—which was exactly why Keenan was eager for her to do so.

  “I was thinking that maybe I could stay with you for a while,” she said, giving him a smile. “I can earn my keep.” She stood up and made her way back to his desk. “I could pick up around the house, cook a few meals and even keep the bed warm for you at night.”

  “I have a maid, a cook and electric blanket that can do all of that quite well, thank you.”

  “C’mon, Keenan. You’re not about to let me live out on the streets, are you?”

  “How on earth can you make it sound like I’m doing this to you? You broke my heart, remember? And I still did right by you. I gave you the house, the cars and half of everything I owned. Now that it’s all gone you want to come back and play house?”

  Guilt flickered across her face.

  “Naw. I don’t roll like that,” he said.

  “I’m not saying it’s a permanent situation.”

  “What about Nitara—can’t you stay with her and Martin?”

  Tenetria stomped her foot. “I’m not staying with my family. I won’t be a laughingstock.”

  Keenan laughed in her face. “Sounds to me like you don’t have a choice.”

  She switched tactics. “C’mon, baby.” She sat on the desk. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I know I put you through a lot of unnecessary changes. But I’ve changed.”

  As her mouth moved, Keenan envisioned a snake hissing.

  “I’ll do right by you. I swear.”

  He wasn’t trying to hear any of this.

  “You loved me once…and seeing how you’re still not with anyone, maybe you still love me.” She slowly crossed her legs so he was sure to see that she didn’t have on any panties.

  “Tenetria—”

  “Shh.” She pressed a finger against his lips. “Don’t say anything.” She placed her foot in his lap and then leaned back and started unbuttoning her top. “Just think about it, Keenan. You and me. We used to be good together.”

  The office door burst open and Nitara marched inside. “Keenan, do have those contracts for—” She stopped, her mouth falling open.

  Tenetria hopped off the desk and turned, her silk bra falling out of her shirt. “Hello, sister dear.”

  However, Keenan didn’t pay any attention to the drama unfolding between the two sisters. His eyes zeroed in on the woman who’d walked in with his business partner.

  “Jalila.”

  Chapter 11

  Jalila blinked—and then blinked again. Still she was having trouble processing what she was seeing. Keenan was closed up in his office with a half-dressed woman. Was he truly one of those producers who operated using the proverbial casting couch?

  “Did we catch you at a bad time?” Nitara asked, crossing her arms.

  The half-dressed woman, who looked eerily like Nitara, responded, “As a matter of fact—”

  “No, no,” Keenan insisted. “Tenetria was just leaving.”

  Tenetria? Jalila ran the name down in her memory database. His ex-wife? This information didn’t have the same emotional effect as her ex-fiancé telling her that he was gay, but it was certainly up there. It took everything Jalila had not to tear across the office and whack him upside his head. Somehow she kept the presence of mind to realize that she had absolutely no claim on Keenan. None whatsoever.

  So why did Keenan look so guilty?

  “But we haven’t finished talking,” Tenetria said, turning her wounded expression toward Keenan.

  “Yes, we have.” He took the woman by the elbow and ushered her toward the door.

  “Wait a minute.” Tenetria snatched her purse up from the desk as he propelled by. “Keenan, what about my situation?”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” he hissed.

  “But…but…”

  Keenan shoved her out and slammed the door in her face.

  Typical, Jalila thought. Once he’s done with a woman, he certainly knows how to get rid of them. She ground her teeth together and coached herself to stay cool.

  “Sorry about that,” Keenan said, walking back over to his desk.

  Jalila wondered if that was a personal apology or a professional one. She licked her lips and lifted her head. One monkey don’t stop no show.

  Nitara cleared her throat. “I just came to see whether you had the final contracts for Ms. Goodwyn. I didn’t know that you were, ah…busy.”

  Keenan ignored the barb and pulled out his desk drawer. “Here you go.” He handed Nitara a manila folder.

  She accepted the folder and then turned to escort Jalila out of the office.

  “Glad to see that you’re still on board,” Keenan said.

  There. That said it all, didn’t it? He wanted her to move on. Jalila stopped and glanced at him from over her shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be?” After a beat of silence, Jalila made the mistake of looking him in the eye.

  “No reason,” he said softly.

  She nodded and then walked out of the office. When she cleared the doorway, it felt like her Jell-O-filled legs were about to drop her like a stone. Suddenly, her eyes burned as if the tears she fought were made of acid. Keep it together, gi
rl.

  “Are you all right?” Nitara asked. “I apologize about that. Keenan and my sister…well, it’s a long story. I’m so sorry you had to witness that.”

  “It’s okay,” Jalila said.

  “Tell you what, let’s just use the conference room to sign these papers.”

  “Fine.” Jalila marched behind Nitara to a spacious conference room toward the back of the building.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “Water would be great,” she said, wanting to steal a moment alone.

  “One bottled water comin’ up.” Nitara set the manila folder down on the table and exited the conference room.

  Once the door closed behind her, Jalila released a long, frustrated sigh. Not until then did she realize that her heart was pounding as if it was trying to escape her chest. “Goddamn it, Jalila. What did you expect?” she asked herself.

  Nitara returned with a cold bottle of water for her and something that smelled like rum for herself. For the next hour, Nitara went over everything from the basics of the contract to Jalila’s health history, also peppered in were permission and waiver forms, and of course, a confidentiality agreement. “I know you broadcast on YouTube,” she said, “but we need you to refrain from mentioning anything about the show for now.”

  Jalila shrugged. “I can just take a little break from uploading videos for a while.”

  “Great. Taping begins Saturday,” Nitara said. “The first night we’re throwing a party out in Beverly Hills. There will be music and drinks. You and your girlfriends will work the room, talk to the men one on one. The cameras will film everything. At the end of the night, you and the girls will confer and then you will select three men out of the twenty-five that you’d like to date.

  “From there, the three men will plan their courtships for the next four weeks. This is the part where we will follow you around your job and your friends, parents and, of course, your dates. This is to give the audience a thorough sense of who you are. The taping schedule will start from 9:00 a.m. to 11:00 p.m. That will give you ten hours a day to yourself—some private time.

  “We’ll also arrange a room in your house where you can do a video diary. You’ll talk directly to the camera and just tell America what you’re thinking from day to day or date to date.”