by Pamela Yaye
“I wasn’t planning on going back.”
“But Jordan has a dentist appointment at eleven-thirty.”
“I’ll try to be there on time, but I promised the boys I’d take them to see a movie at Sherbrooke Mall, and I don’t want to disappoint them.”
“Tell my mom I said hi.”
At the sound of her husband’s voice, Simone spun around. Marcus must have seen the smoke coming out of her ears, because the broad smile sitting on his lips slid off his face. He wore a troubled expression, one that wrinkled his forehead and eyebrows. “What’s the matter? Are the boys okay?” he asked, striding toward her.
“Is that Marcus?” Gladys chirped. “Put him on. I need to talk to him.”
That makes two of us!
Simone pointed the receiver at him. “Set your mother straight, Marcus, or I will.”
Pacing the length of the room didn’t help calm Simone down, but it was either walk off her frustration or wrestle the phone away from Marcus and tell Gladys off. She watched Marcus stretch out on the bed and close his eyes. He looked serene, at ease, like he was luxuriating on a tropical beach.
Simone waited for Marcus to scold his mom for being irresponsible, but the rebuke never came. And when he hung up the phone seconds later, he was actually grinning. How come he’s not upset? His brother had put Jayden in harm’s way, and Simone refused to turn a blind eye, refused to brush this under the rug. No way. No how. Prepared to war, she arched her shoulders and folded her arms. “Did Gladys tell you that Jayden went for a ride on Derek’s motorcycle?”
“Yeah, Mom said she’s never seen him so excited!”
Simone blinked, shook her head. “I can’t believe this....”
“I know, huh? The kid hates bugs, but he loves motorcycles! Go figure!” Marcus chuckled. “I told mom to make sure Jayden wears a helmet the next time—”
“That’s it? That’s all you said?”
“What else is there to say?”
“How about, ‘He’s not allowed on that bike again!’” she snapped, throwing her hands up in the air. “Jayden’s five, not fifteen. He has no business being on Derek’s motorcycle.”
“D.’s been riding bikes since he was a kid. He’s the safest driver I know.”
“Yeah, when he’s not stoned out of his mind....”
“He doesn’t smoke anymore.”
“Sure he doesn’t, that’s why he can’t keep a job longer than a week.”
“D.’s been working full-time since March, but you’d know that if you talked to him when he called instead of passing the phone off to me.”
Simone swallowed a retort, one that was sure to pour more gasoline on the fire. The truth was, she had no interest in talking to her brother-in-law or anyone else in her husband’s family. Being raised in the inner city herself, Simone knew how difficult it was growing up in government housing neighborhoods, but she didn’t condone violence of any kind and Marcus’s older brother enjoyed living on the wrong side of the law. If it were up to her, she would see Derrek only during the holidays. But she had children who adored their uncle, so for the sake of her sons she put up with her husband’s wayward sibling.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. It was a ten-second ride—”
“Without a helmet, on an icy street, after dark,” she added, spitting out the words.
Marcus opened his mouth, then quickly closed it.
“Last month, I forgot to buckle Jordan into his seat belt, and you reamed me out, but it’s okay for your brother to take Jayden for a spin around the block on his motorcycle? Tell me how what I did was wrong, but what Derek did is right?”
Silence descended, settled over the master suite like thick, lung-scorching smoke.
“This was a bad idea. We never should have come here.”
More silence.
“I’m sorry, baby, you’re right.” Marcus held out his hands. An apologetic expression covered his face, and his voice was filled with remorse. “Anything could have happened....”
His declaration stunned Simone, left her speechless.
“Jayden could have fallen or gotten seriously hurt.”
Simone had been thinking the same thing, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually speak the words. Not about her baby. Being a social worker, she’d seen firsthand how quickly life changed, how accidents involving minors devastated lives. That’s why she was angry.
“I’ll call Mom back later.”
Simone wanted Marcus to call Gladys now, but she decided not to push it. They were finally on the same page, and that was enough for her. She wanted Marcus to spend more time with her and the boys, and she was willing to do anything to improve their marriage. Simone knew how to get her husband’s attention, and she hoped once she met his needs in the bedroom he’d be more receptive to what she had to say. Isn’t that what the little pink book guaranteed?
Marcus reached for her, pulled her into the safety of his strong, powerful arms. For a long moment, they stood there, in silence, enjoying the feel of being so intimate, so close. The scent of his cologne fell over her, and the light, refreshing fragrance evoked thoughts of making sweet love. Marcus ran his fingers through her hair, twirled and coiled the ends.
“Want me to order in some room service?” he asked, assuming a tone as crisp and formal as their personal butler. “I hear the quiche is to die for.”
Simone giggled. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
“But I thought you were hungry?”
“I am,” she conceded, touching a hand to his chest. “But not for food....”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“I’ve always fantasized about making love on a bearskin rug.”
“Is that right?”
“Are you game?”
“Hell, yeah, I’m game!” Scooping her up in his arms, he set off across the room toward the fireplace. “Come on, baby. Let’s kick off our romantic weekend right!”
Chapter 11
“Miss Universe ain’t got nothin’ on me!” Simone shrieked, striking a fierce pose in front of the full-length bathroom mirror. “I’m not stick-thin with fake boobs, but I’m one bad mama jama!”
Giggling, she hiked her foot up on the bathtub and zipped up her leather boots. It was Saturday night, and Simone was ready for a night out on the town. To complete her va-va-va-voom look, she gathered her hair in her hands and pulled it up into a high, sleek ponytail. Encrusted in diamonds, the silver clip gave her instant glamour and made her appear youthful and sophisticated. A few gold accessories, a spritz of perfume and Simone was done. Ready for her six-o’clock dinner date with her gorgeous husband. Simone couldn’t wait to tell Marcus about the job offer she’d received that morning from the director of Friendship House. Anxious to see him, she did one final twirl in the mirror and turned off the lights.
Tucking her metallic clutch purse under her arm, she strode into the living room with her shoulders squared and her head held high. Just like a supermodel gliding down a Paris runway. At the front window, Simone pulled back the silk drapes and stared outside. No sign of Marcus, but plenty of activity going on around the Chateau LeBlanc. Families skated on the rink, guests socialized in front of the lodge and starry-eyed couples strolled along the trails.
Simone peered down the road, hoping to catch a glimpse of the stretch limo. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Marcus’s face when he saw her outfit. Thanks to the boutique owner, Simone felt like a million bucks. Marcus was always imploring her to show off her legs, so she’d selected a ruffled minidress that kissed her thighs. The clingy burgundy number gave her a slim silhouette and made her waist appear smaller, which was a definite plus.
Glancing at the wall clock, Simone realized she was ready fifteen minutes early. She thought of calling Jayden and Jordan,
but remembered they were at the movies with Gladys.
On the coffee table, she spotted A Sista’s Guide to Seduction and picked it up. All day, she’d been running around, getting pricked and plucked and waxed, and she relished having a few quiet minutes to herself. Simone had only one more chapter left to read of the titillating self-help book, and she had a feeling the good doctor had saved the best for last.
Opening the little pink book, Simone settled into the armchair in front of the fireplace and crossed her legs. Outside, snow was falling in sheets. The wind was howling, beating the tree branches against the windows, but the cabin was cozy, filled with such warmth and tranquility, it was easy to ignore Mother Nature’s fury. Simone read the title of the epilogue, and frowned. If it’s broke, fix it? Dr. RaShondra sure has a way with words, she thought, laughing to herself.
I’ve given you dozens of tips and ideas on how to seduce the man of your dreams, and if you follow my advice, he’ll be worshipping the ground you walk on! I’ve done my part, ladies. Now the rest is up to you. I leave you with one last piece of advice. Do not, I repeat, do not be anyone’s doormat. If he doesn’t want you, let him go...
I think the R & B singer Mya said it best: “It’s all about me, me, me, me, me, forget about you, you, you, you, you.” Women have the tendency to want to be everything to everybody. It’s not enough for us to be a girlfriend, a wife, a lover. No, we want to be a therapist, a doctor, a pastor, a lawyer. We think we can run his life better than he can. It’s not enough for us to give advice and let it be. No, we feel compelled to fix whatever’s wrong.
Girl, you’re not a Ms. Fix-It. If he doesn’t want you, let his rusty butt go! And work hard at being the best woman, sister, daughter, friend that you can be. Spend time enlightening your mind, feeding your soul, developing your inner and outer beauty and enriching the lives of others. A Seductress does not wait around for him to call and refuses to be disrespected. She has her own life to live and no time to waste chasing after a man who doesn’t want her. Okay?
The telephone rang. I hope Marcus isn’t calling to cancel, Simone thought, shooting across the living room floor. Worried she was going to miss the call, she snatched the receiver off the cradle and panted a breathless “Hello?”
“Hey, baby. What’s shaking?”
“Nothing much. Just waiting for you to get back. Are you, um, on your way?”
“I’ll be there soon. Give or take five minutes.”
At the sound of his voice, a smile warmed her lips. They’d been married so long, she could tell what kind of mood Marcus was in by his tone, and it was obvious her husband was very excited about something. “I guess I don’t have to ask how your meeting went....”
“They loved my idea of filming a competition-type reality show at Samson’s and promised to get back to me by the end of the month,” he explained. “The studio head said they need time to work out the logistics, but that was just a front. I’ve got it in the bag!”
“That’s wonderful! Now, we have two things to celebrate tonight.”
“Baby, what’s your good news?”
“Remember that woman’s clinic I was telling you about?”
A pause, then “No.”
“The one that opened last month on the South Side?”
Her question was met with silence.
“Anyways, they HR director at Friendship House wants me to come in—”
“For what?” he questioned, his tone turning serious.
“They’re looking for a part-time case manager.”
“So, why are they calling you?”
“Because I sent in my résumé, Einstein!” Simone laughed, shook her head. Marcus knew every pro football player by name, all their stats and personal history, but he couldn’t remember the conversation they’d had a week earlier. Go figure. “I applied for fun, just to test the waters, so I was stunned when the HR director called me and practically offered me the job. We talked for almost an hour, and at the end of our conversation, Mrs. Alvarez invited me to come in next week to check out the center. Isn’t that great?”
“And what will Jayden and Jordan be doing while you’re off working?”
Simone stared down at the receiver. She heard the edge in her husband’s tone, the shift from playful banter to stone-cold seriousness. “I’ll work while the boys are at school. The position is only twenty hours a week, and they’re open to me working evenings and weekends.”
“I see....” Marcus paused, cleared his throat. “Are you dressed and ready to go?”
“I sure am.”
“Cool. Meet me out front in five minutes.”
“I’m on my way.”
Snatching her purse off the chair, she whipped her shawl around her shoulders and hurried through the cabin and out the front door. Walking along the icy path in stiletto boots was nerve-racking and if the blue-eyed concierge hadn’t rushed to her aid, she would have slid to the ground in a heap of Prada couture. “Thank you so much—” Simone smiled and paused to read his name tag “—Luca.”
“It’s my pleasure. Can’t have a beautiful guest like you getting hurt on my watch.”
Upon reaching the lobby, Simone slipped a twenty-dollar bill out of her purse and stuffed it into his front pocket. “You’re a lifesaver. I couldn’t have made it here without you.”
“It was no trouble at all.” His eyes dipped to her cleavage, settled there for a long beat. “Have a good night.”
“I will, and you enjoy the rest of your evening, as well.”
The concierge didn’t move. He remained in place, his gaze sliding down her hips and curves. “We’re not supposed to fraternize with guests,” he began, ruffling his mop of thick, black hair, “but I’ve been kicking myself all day for not approaching you when I spotted you outside the spa earlier.”
Glancing around, he leaned forward and dropped his voice to a throaty whisper. “You’re an incredibly gorgeous woman, and if you’re not busy tomorrow I’d love to take you for coffee.”
Simone’s felt her eyes bulge, pop square out of her head. Imagine that! This young, cute Zac Efron look-alike was hitting on her! Concealing a smile, she held up her left hand and pointed to her diamond wedding ring. “I’m married—”
“Happily?”
Simone wore a straight face, but inside she was cracking up. The hotel concierge had some serious game, and his infectious smile was a killer. “My husband should be here any minute now,” she explained, glancing at the revolving doors. “He’s taking me out for a dinner.”
“How nice.” His tone was as stiff as his upper lip. “Do you have any sisters or friends as beautiful as you are?”
Simone told Luca that he should catch the first flight to L.A. because he could have a bright future in Tinseltown. More laughter came, and soon they were chatting about their favorite movies and trading jokes like longtime friends.
Seated at the hotel bar drinking a scotch on the rocks, Marcus watched the exchange between his wife and the obviously smitten concierge with growing interest. Amused, he looked on as the kid handed Simone his business card. This happened all the time. He couldn’t leave his wife alone for ten seconds without someone approaching her.
Marcus shook his head and shrugged. He didn’t mind, though. Simone was stunning, the single most beautiful woman in the room, and he was proud that she carried his last name. And tonight she was working the hell out of that burgundy minidress. Fashionably dressed in a tight, hot number that showed off every mouthwatering curve, her long ponytail swishing against her back, his wife looked sexier than ever before.
His heart beat in double time. Marcus couldn’t wait to get her out of that dress and into bed. But first, he had to romance her. Charm her. Show her that she was still the woman of his dreams. Thinking out of the box had never been his specialty, but he’d promised his wife a memorab
le evening and he planned to deliver. And if he was lucky, she’d forget all about getting a part-time job. For one, they didn’t need the money, and he hated the thought of her running herself ragged when she should be at home with him and the boys. Truth be told, he hated the idea of Simone returning to work. The only thing he wanted her to work on was getting pregnant. He wanted more children—lots more—and the sooner she had a little bun in the oven, the better.
Marcus thought about last night. After making love, they’d headed over to the hotel lounge to grab a bite to eat. They dined on prime rib, shared a fifty-year-old bottle of wine, then took a short walk through the grounds. Strolling along one of the many trails, the light from the moon illuminating the path, they’d reminisced about their first date. Then, before turning back, they’d stopped in a thicket of pine trees and kissed so deeply, so intensely, he’d almost lost his footing. Thinking about it now, and seeing Simone in that dress, made Marcus want to ravish her.
Time to go get my wife, he decided, downing the rest of his drink. Marcus stood, dropped a tip on the counter and strode out of the bar. Wearing a proud smile, he greeted the hotel concierge with a nod of his head, slipped an arm around Simone and led her through the lobby. “Are you trying to get me killed?” he teased, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“Is that your way of telling me I look great?”
“You look better than great, that’s why that young pup was champing at the bit!”
Simone wore an innocent face. “What? He was just making small talk.”
“Sure, he was. Five more minutes of ‘small talk’ and he would’ve popped the question!”