Forever: a standalone, interracial romance

by Tiffany Patterson

  “I love how much you care about others, Red, but right now I don’t give a shit about Jeremy’s woman problems. Get on top,” he demands, pulling me on top of him.

  I gladly comply, and I too, soon forget about Jeremy or anyone else who is not the owner of the stiff cock that is now pushing its way deep inside me.

  Chapter Six

  Landon

  “You were supposed to make this shit go away!” I growl at my manager, Michael. We are in his high rise office that overlooks Chestnut Street, not too far from the University of Pennsylvania’s campus. It’s only been three days since Melody and I returned from our too short honeymoon. Mel has returned to work after spring break. And instead of working on my housing developments like I planned before a photo shoot I have later in the day, I am here dealing with this shit.

  “I know, but now she is threatening to sue you for lying to her,” he says.

  “What the fuck did I lie to her about?!” I shout. “The bitch and I weren’t even a couple. We fucked. That was it. Now she’s jealous that I’ve moved on and fallen for Melody.”

  “Calm down, Landon,” Michael implores, as he stands and rushes over to the door, shutting it so the rest of his staff doesn't overhear them.

  “Fuck that! This bitch is threatening to try and ruin my life, and more importantly my marriage, over her own delusions of what she thinks we were. I don’t give a fuck what I have to do, but I won’t allow her or anyone else to hurt Melody. Fix this or I promise I will fix her!” I growl, tossing the papers Mindy’s lawyers had delivered to me at Michael. Before he can respond I stand, and in two steps I am at his office door. I yank it open and stalk out. I know everyone can feel the anger radiating off me because office assistants, interns, and other personnel scurry to get out of my way.

  Normally, I am not the type to call a woman a bitch, but this situation with Mindy is pissing me off. She has been pestering me for weeks, stopping by my real estate developments on more than one occasion, calling my cell until I had to block her, and she even personally stopped by Michael’s office with her threats. Mindy, for whatever reason, thinks we were something we never were, and she swears I left her for another woman. Now she’s going around acting like a scorned lover seeking revenge. I have half a mind to show up at her house and put my hands around her throat. But of course, I would never do that. Instead I follow Michael and my lawyer’s instructions and have no contact with Mindy at all. However, instead of that working, she now has drawn up lawsuit papers and threatened to sue me.

  “Landon, can you look over here,” I hear the photographer shout a while later.

  I’ve had this photo shoot on my schedule for weeks now for an athletic wear company that is one of my major sponsors. I can tell the photographer is losing his patience since I’ve been distracted throughout this entire shoot. I could care less about his damn feelings, but I have worked with this company that has been loyal to me since my rookie season. Blinking back my thoughts about Mindy and how much I want to throttle her, I turn toward the direction the photographer has instructed. When I’m distracted or agitated I play this little trick in which I imagine a favorite memory of mine. For years, most of my favorite memories were football related, but now, the image that brings me back from the brink of exploding with anger, is of my caramel beauty in a white dress as we stand on a hot Puerto Rican beach reciting our wedding vows.

  “That’s it, Lan. Just like that!”

  Even the photographer using the nickname I absolutely abhor doesn’t detract from the calm feeling I get knowing Melody is not just my girlfriend or fiancée, but my wife. I become so stress-free that the rest of the photo shoot flies by and before I know it, the photographer is telling us that’s a wrap. I can expect to get the photos he’s picked from the shoot in a few weeks for my approval. I barely pay Walt a passing glance as he informs me of the rest of the information about the photo shoot and where the photos will be displayed. I make quick work of changing my clothes into a Polo shirt and pair of dark jeans. On my way out, I inform Walt that I need him to make arrangements for someone to pick up Mel’s car from her job and take it home since I plan on surprising my wife and taking her out to dinner and a fun evening. I stroll out of the photo shoot feeling better than when I first entered.

  ****

  Melody

  I rounded the hallway toward my office to see the security guard, Donald, who’s always on duty lately, standing attentively. He began working here just this school year, and I often find myself wondering why he is working a security job at a public school. At over six feet, broadly built, with a buzz cut, he looks more suited for the military or high-end security than watching over middle schoolers. His dark brown eyes are sharp, often scouring the hallways for any interruptions. Despite him never being overly attentive, I sometimes get the distinct feeling he is watching me.

  “Have a good evening, ma’am.” He nods as I approach the main office doorway.

  I nod in his direction. “You do the same, Donald. Just think, only a few more weeks and the school year is over,” I joke. While most teachers and administrators love our jobs, we all look forward to the summer with a few weeks off to relax. “You have any summer plans?” I ask

  “Just relaxing a bit, ma’am,” he says, stopping to turn abruptly as we hear the main entrance door open.

  The first thing I see is a pair of long legs covered in dark jeans enter through the door. My body’s immediate reaction tells me who the new visitor is before I even glance at his face. My lips spread into their usual smile whenever he is around. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a photo shoot today,” I question my husband.

  “A man can’t make time to pick up his woman from work?” The grin he throws my way causes the usual butterflies in my stomach. “Kiss me.” He is now standing in front of me, leaning over me, his lips hovering above mine.

  Thankfully, school let out an hour ago, so most students and staff have cleared out of the building. I turn my head up to meet his lips with my own. I attempt to make the kiss quick, remembering we are at my job and not alone, but Landon has other ideas. He wraps one of his long arms around my waist and pulls me ever deeper into the kiss.

  “Landon, don’t be rude,” I say finally pulling back, panting, and acknowledging Donald’s presence. “You remember Donald, right?” I nod in his direction, since Landon still has a tight hold on my waist.

  “Of course, Don. Good to see you again.” He quickly turns his attention back to me, eyeing my white button-down shirt that is tucked into my brightly colored, African-print midi-skirt that stops a couple of inches below my knees, paired with peep-toe tan heels. “You look beautiful.” The sincerity in his voice is evident, as if he didn’t see me leave our home this morning in the same outfit.

  “Thank you, baby. You still haven’t answered my question. What about your photo shoot? You didn’t skip it did you?”

  He frowns at the accusation in my voice, causing me to giggle. Landon actually hates photo shoots. “No, Red, I didn’t skip it. We finished and I decided to take my favorite girl out tonight. That sound good to you?”

  My lips curl upward, “Your only girl,” I retort.

  “My only girl,” he agrees. “Go get your stuff,” he instructs, patting me on my butt.

  “Landon,” I admonish, but he merely grins and places a kiss to my forehead.

  Shaking my head, I step out of his embrace and head to my office to gather my purse and other belongings, feeling giddy. As I open the door from the office I notice Landon and Donald in the hall talking. It almost looks as if the two are familiar with one another, I mean, more than the passing hello and goodbye of someone who’s only been here a few times to pick his partner up from work. Just as I squint my eyes, wondering if Landon ever said he knew Donald, he looks up at me and smiles.

  “Ready?” he questions, as he takes my bag and books from my arms, leaving me with only my purse.

  “Yup. Goodnight, Donald.”

  “You too
, ma’am.” He bows his head as we depart.

  “What was that about?” I ask Landon as he holds the door open for me.

  “What was what about?”

  “You and Donald. You two looked like you were talking about something serious.”

  Landon shrugs one shoulder, and reaches for my free hand. “Football. He asked about my feelings on the upcoming season.”

  I laugh out loud. “Of course.” Sometimes I forget who I’m married to. I see him as Landon, the man of my dreams, and now, husband. The world sees him as the football god he is.

  “What about my car?” I ask as Landon leads me to his Range Rover, which he illegally parked outside the school building.

  “I’ve already taken care of it. I had Walt have someone pick it up and take it home,” he responds to my raised eyebrow.

  I nod. “You’ve thought of everything. So, where are we going?”

  “You just sit back and enjoy the evening, Red,” he tells me as he climbs his big body into the driver's seat, after helping me into the passenger’s side.

  “As you wish,” I say, placing my hand on his right thigh.

  He looks down at my hand on him and then up at me, slyly. “It’s going to be a fun night,” he states before pulling off.

  He is right about it being a fun evening. We first go to an early dinner at Lacroix at The Rittenhouse where we dine on delicious seafood and vegetables cooked to perfection. After eating and people watching for an hour or so, we head over the bridge to New Jersey to race go-karts. Landon hired some security to allow us some privacy as we enjoy the evening. Luckily, most of the patrons at the go-kart place are respectful enough to maintain their distance, only asking for an autograph here and there. I’ve gotten used to the instant shock and then awe people express when they realize the great Landon Rogers is in their midst. Sometimes I can hardly believe that I had no idea who Landon was when we first met in Puerto Rico. I was never a huge football fan before I met him, and I barely watched TV. In these moments, I am glad that Landon and I met in Puerto Rico, away from the fame that often comes with dating a big athlete.

  “Having fun, Mrs. Rogers?” A chill runs down my spine as he wraps his arms around me from behind and whispers into my ear. I absolutely adore this man and love when he refers to me as Mrs. Rogers all possessively. We have yet to announce to the world our nuptials that took place close to two weeks ago. I’m not in a rush to make that announcement, knowing the barrage of questions that will come from the media and fans wanting to know exactly when and where we were married. I’m happy in the knowledge that Landon and I are finally man and wife and we don’t have to worry about planning a huge affair.

  We remain at the go-kart place until it closes at ten o’clock and then head back over the bridge, stopping for a dessert of fudge brownies smothered in vanilla bean ice cream. Landon had it ordered special from one of our favorite restaurants. We take our dessert home and Landon practices finding how many places on my body he can eat the ice cream off of before it melts.

  Chapter Seven

  Landon

  I wake up the next morning feeling lighter than I have since we returned from Puerto Rico. I look down at Melody who is still sleeping soundly in my arms and the feeling of contentment washes over me. I am the most at peace a moments like these when I know she is completely mine and not going anywhere. If only, that crazy woman, Mindy, would leave me the hell alone. I decided a week ago to take the advice of my attorneys and manager and ignore her tantrums, but my gut is telling me that she is going to escalate and not move on as they said she would. I can’t help the feeling of uneasiness that grows in the pit of my stomach as I think more and more about the situation.

  “Hey, what are you thinking about?” Melody’s sleep-filled voice startles me out of my thoughts.

  “I’m wondering if we have any more of that ice cream from last night,” I say, smoothly, lying.

  She stares at me for another second as if she’s contemplating whether or not she believes me. Instead of letting her deliberate anymore, I reach down and place my hand at the soft spot between her legs, rubbing her. When I hear her purr in the back of her throat, I know I have effectively switched topics. For the next thirty minutes, not another sound, aside from moans, groans and skin slapping against skin, is heard throughout our bedroom.

  Just over an hour later, Melody is doing her usual running around trying to make it out the door on time so she won’t be late for work. I’ve thrown on a pair of workout shorts and t-shirt. I’m preparing to head down to the athletic arena for a workout once Mel leaves. All of a sudden there is a loud pounding on the door.

  “Mr. Rogers this is the Philadelphia Police. Open up!”

  “What’s going on?” Mel looks toward me, eyes wide.

  I’m just as confused as she is. I have no idea why the police are at our door at seven-thirty in the morning, but I don’t let her see my concern. That uneasy feeling I had earlier returns like a tidal wave. Somehow before I reach the door I know this has something to do with Mindy’s threats. “It’s fine,” I lie again to my wife for the second time that morning. “I’m sure it’s just some type of misunderstanding,” I try to assure Melody as I twist the handle to open the door.

  “Yes,” I say, frowning at the three officers standing at my door.

  “Are you Landon Rogers?” My frown deepens as that is one of the dumbest questions I have heard in a while. There’s likely not a soul in this city who doesn’t know who the fuck I am. Not to sound arrogant, but my damn picture is as big as day on one of the most prominent billboards in this city.

  “I’m sure you already know the answer to that question or you wouldn’t be here,” I smugly state.

  “Landon,” my wife admonishes, stepping next to me. “What is this about?” she questions, worriedly.

  “Ma’am, please step back,” one of the officers says as he makes a move to step closer and push her back with his arm.

  Without thinking I push her behind me, and stand directly in front of the officer who I hover over by at least four inches. Although he is the one with the gun, I can tell he is intimidated by the look I am giving him. “Don’t touch her,” I say alarmingly low. His eyes widen a bit and he takes the smallest step back.

  “Landon, it’s okay. I’m sure this is some type of misunderstanding, right?” Melody tries to smooth things over. “Gentlemen, what is this about?”

  “Landon Rogers, we need you to come down to the station with us for some questioning,” one of the other officers says, stepping closer with a pair of handcuffs in his hand.

  It’s not these officers, their handcuffs, or their guns that intimidates or worries me. It’s the gasp that I hear behind me from my wife that nearly causes my knees to go weak.

  “What are you talking about?” she questions frantically.

  “Ma’am ple—” the officer stops when I step closer to him.

  “Sir, we need to take you down to the station,” the third officer finally speaks up.

  “And you needed three officers to do that? What is this questioning for?” My tone is clipped, obviously agitated.

  The officers looks over at Mel for a second before looking back at me. “A Mindy Carlisle is accusing you of attacking her in her home two nights ago. We would like you to come with us to the station to answer some questions. Please do not make this more difficult than it has to be.”

  “Landon would never hurt any woman. Who the hell is this Mindy person?” Mel’s questions come one right after the other.

  I know I need to calm her down. She is my first priority. “Mel, baby, go to work. I’m sure this will all be resolved by the time you get home today.” I place a quick peck to her lips and turn to the officers. “Fine. I assume I can call my attorney at the station?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Landon,” I hear Mel call.

  “It’s okay, babe. Go to work. Have a good day. I’ll be here when you get home.” I give her one last kiss on her forehead before g
rabbing my keys off the stand by the door and walking out with the officers. Clearly, I know my wife is not going to listen to me by going to work and acting like this never happened, but I put on the performance of my life by not completely losing it in front of her. Right now I can feel my erratic heartbeat and the warmth of my anger rushing through my veins. I promise myself that Mindy will pay for this bullshit.

  ****

  “This is un-fucking-believable!” I yell at my attorney. I am entering my fifth hour down at the police station. Although he’d arrived within twenty minutes of my being here, it took the police another hour for them to actually let him in to see me. As predicted, Melody did not go to work, instead she immediately called Tony, my attorney and followed me down to the station. I made Walt take her home. There is no way I want her involved in any of this bullshit. I will keep her as far away from all of this as possible if I can help it, and I can help it.

  “I know, Landon, but they have some convincing evidence in their favor,” Tony tells me.

  “Fuck their evidence. I didn’t do shit to that bit…woman!” I bite my tongue.

  “As your attorney, it’s not my concern whether you did it or—”

  “No! Stop right there! As my attorney it’s my concern that you know for a fact that I did not do what she is accusing me of. Otherwise, we can settle up right now and I’ll have another lawyer down here within the hour.”

  Tony pauses and looks at me with his keen, dark eyes. He’s been an attorney for a long time. I trust his business sense, but if he thinks I’ll keep him on board if he doesn’t believe me, he can get the hell out of here. “Okay, Landon.” He nods. “We’ve worked together a long time, and I know you would never do something like this. I’ve come across enough pompous, asshole athletes who I’d bet money would not hesitate to harm a woman. You’re not one of them.” The sincerity in his tone lightens my load just enough, and I breathe a little easier.