No Ordinary Love (G Street Chronicles Presents The Love. Lies & Lust Series)

by Mz. Robinson

  “Girl, this is good,” Tamara commented. She order the chicken penne pasta while Damon and I had the honey-glazed blackened chicken with mixed vegetables.

  “Thank you,” I said appreciatively.

  “You are very welcome,” Tamara said. “Says me and my stomach.” She laughed then continued to eat.

  I sipped on my lemon water while she and Damon talked about the rest of her family. As our meal progressed I started to feel somewhat like a window shopper peeking into their conversation. When Kaitlyn came by to refresh our beverages, I asked her to bring me a sweet tea. If I could have gotten away with something stronger I would have, but tea would have to do it for the moment.

  I looked from Tamara to Damon watching how her eyes lit up with every word he said, how she laughed at all of his jokes, and appeared to hang on his every word. I sipped my drink slowly while wondering if there was more that she wanted then just to have a friendship with Damon and me. You can’t trust theses bitches, a voice in my head said. The more Tamara spoke, the more her voice began to irritate me. It was like someone was dragging their nails across a chalk board; flesh-crawling and annoying.

  “Damon…” she whined. “D,” she purred. “Why does she keep calling his name?” the voice asked. “She reminds me of Lena.” I could feel my nerves shriveling to the point of collapsing, I decided to excuse myself from the table. “I’ll be right back,” I said quickly.

  “Okay babe,” Damon replied. I slid out the booth and walked quickly to my office. Inside the office I shut the door then grabbed my purse.

  “You know she wants your man,” the voice said. “Everybody wants Damon…you better go handle that bitch!”

  “Shut up!” I demanded. “Shut up now!”

  I pulled out the flask I had in my bag, unscrewed the top, then took a long sip until the flask was empty. I screwed the top back on then dropped the flask back in my purse.

  “Remember Nadia?” the voice continued. “She wanted to be Damon’s friend too.”

  The voice continued to speak to me, reminding me of the women who had desperately tried to ruin my marriage. “I bet that’s why she never liked Shontay,” it said. “Shontay knew she wanted your man.”

  I stood with my back facing the door and my hands grabbing the edge of my desk. I could hear myself breathing heavily but there was no way to stop it. The voice kept speaking to me and with her every word my anger began to boil. There was a light tap on my office door.

  “Who is it?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “It’s me Tamara,” Tamara said from the other side of the door.

  “Damon’s not enough Octavia,” the voice chanted. “I bet she wants your daughter too. I bet she wants your daughter too.”

  I looked down watching as the perspiration that dripped from my face fell onto the back of my hands.

  “Come in,” I said, taking a deep breath.

  “Girl, I have got to go but I want to thank you for lunch,” she said, “It was the bomb!”

  “It was my pleasure,” I said, almost breathless.

  “You okay?” she asked. I could feel her moving closer.

  “Let her know Octavia, after all she did ask!”

  “No,” I said, standing up straight. I tugged on the hem of my suit jacket then turned on my heels to face Tamara only to find Lena staring back at me. She stood in the middle of my office floor with her lips puckered and a look of satisfaction on her face. “You mutherfucking bitch! “ I yelled, charging towards her.

  Chapter 14

  Damon

  I slid out the booth quickly when I heard Octavia’s voice. I, along with several of Octavia’s employees, ran straight for the office. I was in disbelief when I found Octavia and Tamara on the office floor engaged in a brawl. I’m talking hair pulling, shirts ripped, and fist swinging. Although Tamara was the bigger of the two of them it was obvious that my wife was dominating the fight. She sat on her ass pulling Tamara’s hair with one hand and hitting her in the face with the other.

  “Stop it!” I yelled, moving in closer. I grabbed Octavia from behind wrapping my arms around her waist pulling her up to her feet. “Let her go! Now!”

  “Stay away from my husband you dirty ass hoe!” Octavia screamed, kicking Tamara wherever she could land her heels.

  “Get off me you crazy bitch!” Tamara yelled, swinging back. She was practically crawling on her knees due to Octavia still having a grip on the woman’s hair. Octavia held on with her right hand, while continuing to swing and with her left. The more I tried to pull her away, the tighter her grip became. One of the bus boys pushed through the crowd of spectators now standing at the door and managed to pry Octavia’s fingers open to free Tamara. Once he did, I grabbed both her arms restraining her. Tamara pulled herself up to her feet with her fist balled. I stepped in front of my wife, facing her.

  “I said stop it now!” I ordered. Tamara’s chest rose and fell quickly as she looked at me. Her hair stood up on one side and there was a large welt underneath her left eye. The silk shirt she wore was ripped across the sleeve. She looked at me again then turned on her heels marching through the crowd.

  “You heard him hoe,” Octavia babbled from behind me. “Fallback before I beat that ass again!”

  I spun around looking at her. “Do I need to remind you where we are?” I asked, staring at her.

  “No, but you need to remind her!” Octavia snapped.

  I could smell the liquor on her breath. This time there was no denying it. I adjusted the jacket of my suit then looked at the employees and customers who were watching us.

  “Please return to what you were doing,” I said, as professionally as possible. “Immediately.”

  “Let’s go,” Tabitha ordered, motioning to the crowd. “Show’s over.” She looked at Octavia, shook her head then shut the office door.

  “Where is it?” I asked, walking around to the desk.

  “Where’s…where’s what?” she asked. It was like she had done a complete 360.

  “You’re drunk,” I said angrily. I pulled out every drawer that was unlocked looking for the evidence. I knew the only way my wife could be tipsy was because she had something hidden.

  “I’m not drunk!” she snapped, watching me.

  I ignored the lie I knew she was telling and continued my search. When I came up empty handed I grabbed her handbag. I dumped out all the contents on the desk, watching as the silver plated flask landed among Octavia’s possessions. I picked up the empty container then held it in front of her face.

  “What in the hell are you thinking!” I demanded. “What is wrong with you?” She stared at me with a glazed and confused look on her face.

  “Deny it now!” I barked. “Go ahead Octavia. Deny it!”

  “I don’t know what happened,” she stuttered. “I kept hearing this voice and I saw...I saw--”

  “Save it!” I said disgusted. “How many days?”

  “How many days what?”

  “How many days have you been getting drunk?”

  “I’m not drunk!” she argued. “I drink so they’ll stop...” I wondered if she could hear herself. If she believed the things that she was saying. I wondered who the woman standing in front of me was and what she had done with the woman I loved.

  “Get your things,” I said, tired of her excuses. “Let’s go!”

  *****

  I pulled around to the back of my home then shoved the gearshift in to park. I killed the engine then got out slamming the door behind me. I didn’t bother opening the door for Octavia, I was on a mission. I opened the door to our home leaving it open behind me. I disarmed the alarm then stumped over to the kitchen cabinet and swung the door open.

  “Damon,” Octavia called my name.

  I ignored her then continued with my assignment. I pulled every bottle of wine and liquor from the cabinet and sat them on the counter.

  “What are you doing?” Octavia asked.

  “Something I should have done a long time ago,”
I said. I opened and popped the corks on every single bottle then poured the contents down the drain two bottles at a time.

  “Damon,” she said, walking up to me. “Why are you doing this? The drinking isn’t the problem. I told you...I told you what was happening...”

  “What Octavia?” I asked, slamming down two bottles then picking up another two. “That the voices are making you do it? That they make you drink?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes.”

  “Bull shit,” I said, turning to face her. “You drink because you want to. You drink because rather than facing the fact that our son is dead, you would rather wallow in self-pity and bring down every one around you!”

  “I don’t need a reminder of what happened to my son,” she snapped back. “I carried him and I almost died getting him here.”

  I ignored her remarks while emptying out the last two bottles.

  “Where were you Damon?” she screamed, pushing me. “You want to save me now! Where were you when I needed you then?”

  I stopped what I was doing by throwing the bottles in the steel sink. The force of the impact caused the last two bottles to bust.

  “I came as soon as I could,” I said, with my back to her. “As soon as I knew. I can’t change that.”

  I was hurt by her words. What Octavia didn’t know was that I had been blaming myself ever since that day and silently telling myself that I could have prevented everything that happened. I had been reminding myself that if I hadn’t been so obsessed with love for her, half of the bad shit that happened to her would have never taken place; including the loss of Savoy and Shontay.

  “You should have moved faster,” she taunted.

  I clinched my fist, feeling the burning sensation of rage as it flowed through my body. I inhaled through my nose then slowly exhaled through my lips attempting to manage my anger. I failed.

  “I’ll tell you where I wasn’t,” I said, spinning around and looking at her. “I wasn’t laying on my ass sloppy drunk, playing make believe, like you were when you should have been taking care of our daughter.” I paused staring at her. “But then I really shouldn’t be that surprised with your behavior, we both know whenever there is something too heavy for you to deal with, your first stop is by a bottle. At least this time you didn’t take that bottle and run to another man.”

  My mentioning the day Octavia had a breakdown when she discovered her mother had cancer was a low and childish blow, but at that second I didn’t give a damn. She looked at me with her eyes wide and her lips slightly open then pulled back her hand and slapped me hard in the face.

  “You go to hell,” she said, shaking while she backed away from me.

  “What do you think you’ve been putting me through?” I asked. I walked off then out the door.

  I sat behind the wheel of my car, driving in the direction of my office, while attempting to process the things that had taken place throughout the day between me and my wife. I felt defeated and lost without a clue of how I was going to get the two of us back to the place where we belonged. I was willing to fight against any and every principality Octavia and I faced, but I couldn’t and would no longer attempt to fight alone. I picked up my cell phone and dialed Tamara’s number.

  “Hello,” she answered with attitude.

  “Can we talk?” I asked, ignoring the anger in her voice.

  “I don’t have time for other people’s drama,” she ranted. “Trust me, if I wanted that I got plenty of that back in Atlanta. For real.”

  “I’m not trying to pull you into any,” I said. “I would never do that, but I would like to talk.” Silence.

  “Please Tam,” I said. “Right now you’re the closest thing I have to a friend.”

  “Where you at?” she asked.

  “On my way back to the office,” I said.

  “Nope,” she said quickly. “Not there. That could be a setup.”

  “Where?”

  “Highland Pointe,” she said. “196 Jeff…”

  *****

  Tamara opened the door to her apartment wearing grey shorts and a grey Crimson Tide t-shirt. The welt underneath her eye had gone down revealing the scratch Octavia had put there. She stepped back from the door allowing me to step inside. I glanced around the living room admiring the retro style furniture and décor before sitting on the bright red sofa against the living room wall. Tamara sat down on the sofa next to me then turned facing me. I had it made up in my mind that I would open up and tell my friend about my thoughts, feelings, and even the death of my son, but when I opened my mouth to begin no words came, instead the only thing I shared was my misery and regret in the form of tears.

  “Damon,” Tamara said moving in closer to me. I dropped my face in my hands to cover my vulnerability, but everything I had pushed back, every fear and every strand of guilt pushed through leaving me open. Tamara put her arms around me allowing me to rest my head against her breast.

  “Shh...” she said, stroking my hair. “It’s okay...it’s okay.”

  I cried like a child with no pride; like a man with no shame. “I’m sorry,” I said through my tears. “I’m sorry…” I sat up then wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hands. Once I felt like I could speak without breaking down, I shared with her the details of what Octavia and I had been going through. I didn’t stop there. I told her about the pain I felt when Savoy was murdered and how hard it was for me to deal with it. I opened up and poured out my heart and Tamara listened without interruption. When my confession was complete, I exhaled, feeling like the weight of a three-story building had been lifted off my shoulders. I sat on the edge of the sofa staring down at my hands.

  “I’m sorry for this,” I said, referring to my emotional outburst.

  “Look at me Damon,” she said. She stroked my cheek with her fingertips. “Look at me.” I slowly raised my head doing as she requested. She looked at me with compassion and understanding. “It’s okay,” she said. “Baby you have nothing to be sorry about. The best men cry and feel pain. It’s okay.”

  She brushed her index finger over my cheek again. There was a foreign tension in the air around us, one that I never anticipated would ever develop between me and the woman I knew as my friend. The silky feel of her fingertips stroking my face over and over again turned from soothing to sensual as she leaned in allowing our lips to meet. She pulled away looking at me with eyes that looked as if they were asking me for permission. When I didn’t protest, she pressed her lips to mine again. I reciprocated allowing my tongue to dominate hers while my hand slipped in between her legs. I pulled myself up using the weight of my body to push her back against the arm of the couch. She spread her legs allowing me to assume position in between them. Our tongues played intimately while my hands caressed and massaged her breast. I felt my nature rising with every kiss and every stroke of her warm wet tongue. As the two of us continued to engage our lips, I allowed the yearning pushing against the inside of my crotch to overshadow the reasoning inside my mind.

  Chapter 15

  Octavia

  I was embarrassed and humiliated by the events that had taken place in front of my customers and staff, but what hurt me more so was that even after I told Damon the truth about what had been going on with me, he didn’t believe me. I could handle his anger. I could even handle his disappointment, but I couldn’t handle the thought of him no longer believing in me.

  I sat behind the wheel of Damon’s Land Rover, outside of the ABC store. Damon had poured out everything we kept in our home, but he couldn’t stop me from using my money. I grabbed my bag and phone and climbed out my car walking towards the store. I was halfway inside the store when my phone began to ring. I pressed the end call button assuming it was Damon, sending the call to voicemail. A second later my phone rang again. I rushed through the glass doors of the store while glancing at my caller ID, the name Stanley Security appeared on my display.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “This is Jonah from Stanley Se
curity I’m looking for Mrs. Whitmore.”

  “This is Octavia,” I replied.

  “Mrs. Whitmore can you please verify your billing address?”

  “For my home or office?” I asked annoyed. “You monitor both.”

  “For the Ambiance,” the young man said.

  “Yes, it’s 2099 Main Street.”

  “Thank you for verifying and if you don’t mind can you verify your pin?”

  “You called me,” I said loudly. “Why do you need me to verify? You should have my information there!” The cashiers behind the registers inside the store looked at me. I wanted to tell them to mind their business but decided against it.

  “Mrs. Whitmore verification is for your protection,” Jonah said calmly.

  “It’s 9869,” I said, reminding myself that he was right.

  “Thank you for verifying,” he said. “Mrs. Whitmore I’m calling to notify you that the monitors in Zone 4 is still offline.” The area of the Ambiance referred to as Zone 4 was my office. I originally only had my offices wired with cameras, but after my kidnapping Damon and I agreed it would be good to include cameras that viewed each of the exits as well.

  “What do you mean by still?” I asked.

  “It’s been offline now for over a month.”

  “A month? Are you serious? Why didn’t I get a call when it first when offline?” I questioned.

  “Actually, ma’am, you did.”

  “Actually, no I didn’t,” I said sarcastically. I scanned the stocked shelves with my eyes while attempting to decide on my poison for the day. I finally decided to go with my old faithful, better known as Ciroc. I grabbed the first flavor I saw then strolled to the counter.

  “Mrs. Whitmore we called the Ambiance and spoke with the manager on the first, and the fifteenth of this month, as well as the first day we noticed a problem. We were advised that you were working on getting some of your wiring replaced. We also sent you a courtesy email.”

  Tabitha, I thought. She had been such a smartass earlier telling me all the shit she was handling but it was obvious she was coming up short on what was important.