Playing for Keeps

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Playing for Keeps Page 12

by Yahrah St. John


  “I’d never felt such passion,” she admitted, twisting her napkin in her hand. “It was so intense.” It had been much too long since she’d felt so wanted, so needed, so desired.

  “So he rocked your world!”

  “More than that, he turned it over on its head.” Avery ran her fingers through her hair. “Quentin has reawakened me sexually, Jenna. I didn’t even know my sexuality was dormant until he lit a fire under it. And I don’t understand. We’re polar opposites.”

  Jenna smiled. “And you know the old saying—opposites attract.”

  “I suppose so.” Avery shook her head in amazement. “I just don’t know where this is all headed.”

  “Where do you want it to lead?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. We’re so different. I’m reserved. He’s carefree.”

  “But you share common interests too, right? Like art? He’s a photographer, so I’m sure he appreciates it, too. Why don’t you stop making excuses for why you don’t want to be with him and run with it? Don’t be so afraid.”

  “I’m not,” Avery huffed. “We became lovers, didn’t we?”

  “And now you’re trying to find a million and one reasons to end things.”

  Avery hated that her friend knew her so well. She was way out of her comfort zone with Quentin Davis and if she weren’t careful she could fall hard for him. She’d already developed strong feelings for him as it was, and that knowledge scared her half to death. “I’m not,” she lied. “I intend to enjoy Quentin for as long as the feeling’s right.”

  Jenna shrugged. “Sure, you say that now, but I have a feeling that there’s a lot you’re not saying.”

  Avery grinned. If she only knew.

  Quentin met Richard and his assistant across the street from the community center for his meeting with Malik. He didn’t know why he’d agreed to drive over here with Richard. Maybe it was some warped need to show Malik that he would go through with the assignment whether he liked it or not.

  “Can’t you just see some high-rise condominiums here, a movie theater and some specialty eateries?” Richard’s chest puffed at the idea of his latest deal. He didn’t wait for Quentin’s response, but instead he charged across the street and toward the center entrance. Despite his reservations, Quentin had no choice but to follow behind him.

  “I’m Richard King and I’m here to see Malik Williams.”

  “I will let him know,” the receptionist replied. Quentin couldn’t help but notice the sour expression that crossed her face. She, too, must know that this man had the power to bring the center down. “Please have a seat.”

  A look of disdain came across Richard’s face as he glanced across the room. Quentin doubted he wanted to sit down in his Gucci suit in the modest lobby with standard brown chairs that looked as if they’d been sat in one time too many. “Thanks, but I’ll stand,” Richard said.

  Quentin folded his arms across his chest and steeled himself for Malik’s reaction to his being there. Several minutes later, Malik came bursting through the door. He was about to speak when he saw Quentin standing in the corner. “What are you doing here?”

  “Do you two know each other?” Richard asked, looking back and forth between the two men.

  “No,” Malik replied. The look of disappointment he sent Quentin’s way caused him to lower his head. “I meant you.”

  “I believe my assistant made an appointment,” Richard returned coolly. He wasn’t put off by Malik’s brusque tone.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Malik responded, throwing back his dreads. “Because I have nothing to say to you, Mr. King. Trust me when I say that I’m speaking for the Children’s Aid Network and the community center. They are not for sale. Not now or in the future.”

  “Mr. Williams, I understand your apprehension, but if you’d give me a chance to explain.” Richard snapped his fingers at his assistant to hand him his portfolio. “I can explain the benefits my complex would bring to the community.” He extended the portfolio to Malik, but he ignored it.

  “So what are you? The Great White Hope that’s going to save the community?” Malik laughed bitterly. “I don’t think so. You’ve got an uphill battle ahead of you, Mr. King, because we are not going to go quietly. Good day.” Malik glared at Quentin one final time before storming back into the office.

  Richard was stunned. No one had ever walked out on him. The director hadn’t even given him a chance to go over his plans.

  “I told you,” his assistant said from his side.

  “Yes, well, I never give up,” Richard said, heading toward the door.

  Quentin stayed put. He wanted to tell Malik that although he was there in a professional capacity, he was still behind the center one hundred percent, but he doubted Malik would even listen to him.

  “Quentin?” Richard turned to him. “Are you coming?”

  “Uh, yes,” Quentin said, grabbing his photography bag off one of the chairs and following him and his assistant.

  “The meeting did not go as I anticipated,” Richard said once they were outside.

  “Did you expect anything less,” Quentin responded, turning sideways and staring at Richard. He’d come to the center since he was a child and would hate to see it demolished to make room for a multimedia complex and condominiums.

  Richard spun around at Quentin’s sharp tone. “I take it you don’t approve of my new development?” He’d noticed that the photographer hadn’t been particularly pleased when he told him they were driving to Harlem this morning. Matter of fact, he’d made every excuse in the book not to join him.

  “Approve?” Quentin asked. “I think it’s a travesty to this community.” He was relieved to finally get the words off his chest.

  Richard didn’t understand Quentin’s hostility to his new development. “I’m willing to relocate the center a few blocks away.”

  “So that makes it okay to tear down a landmark?” Quentin asked. “That center,” Quentin pointed to the building, “has been there for nearly fifty years. The community depends on it. Yet somehow your money-making trumps that?” Once he’d spoken his frustrations out loud, Quentin realized just how unprofessional he’d acted. As a photographer, he was supposed to be objective and take pictures, but this assignment hit too close to home. He’d lost all objectivity.

  “Well, well,” Richard chuckled. “I’m glad to see you’re not a yes man and speak your mind.” Richard despised cowardice. “I can appreciate that.”

  “Even though you don’t agree with it,” Quentin returned facing Richard.

  Richard smiled. “No, I don’t. My development will benefit the community and bring in precious revenue and jobs.”

  “After you’ve displaced all the storeowners and residents,” Quentin snorted. “Sounds great.”

  “How do you know so much about this area?” Richard replied, eyeing him strangely.

  “Because I grew up around here.” Quentin didn’t offer more details.

  “And yet you’re doing an assignment on me. When it’s clear you don’t approve of what I represent. Why?”

  “I made a commitment and I’m honoring that.”

  “A man of integrity.” Richard smiled. In his line of business, it was hard not to be jaded. “I don’t see many of those in my world. And I appreciate your honesty, Quentin Davis.” Richard extended a hand, which Quentin reluctantly shook. It was just too bad Quentin couldn’t say the same about him.

  Sage showed up unexpectedly at Quentin’s apartment later that evening. He’d been standing near the window remembering the weekend he’d spent making love to Avery. He’d enjoyed giving her pleasure and watching her intense reaction as she came. She was wanton and sensual and just the type of woman he wanted in his bed. So why did making love to her throw him into such a panic? Because he was accustomed to being in control, but he’d gotten completely lost in her. He was struggling with the possibility that any woman could make him feel any sort of emotion, but Avery had. She’d gotten to him. Him? A man who did
n’t do commitments.

  “What are you doing here?” Quentin asked when Sage walked in carrying a bottle of wine and a large foil package.

  “I brought dinner from Dante’s,” she replied, holding up the container. He joined her in the kitchen and started opening cabinets to remove two plates. “Since you haven’t been to the bar in over a week and haven’t returned any of my calls, I thought I’d better come by and check on you.”

  “Yeah, well,” Quentin said, shutting the cupboard door, “I thought perhaps it was better to keep a low profile. That way Malik would come by and not feel uncomfortable at my presence.”

  “That’s very magnanimous of you,” Sage said, pulling a large spoon out of the drawer underneath the counter and ladling spaghetti carbonara onto the plates. “Now open that bottle of wine. Dante whipped us up some pasta.”

  Sage loved being bossy, so Quentin walked over and playfully yanked the bottle away from her. “You know, you didn’t have to do this, Sage.” He uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.

  “I know I didn’t but you’ve been a little too quiet all week.”

  “Have you ever thought there was a reason I hadn’t called?” Quentin handed her a glass. Suddenly, his mind raced with illicit thoughts of how incredibly responsive Avery had been in bed and the little sounds she’d made when he’d been buried…Quentin stopped dead in his tracks. He was getting in too deep. Perhaps he should pull back before there was no turning back.

  “Oh?” Sage’s eyes widened. “Have you and Avery grown closer?” When Quentin remained mum, Sage got her answer. “I see. So she’s the reason you’ve abandoned your friends.”

  “One week does not abandonment make. Avery and I are two adults who are enjoying each other’s company. Is anything wrong with that?”

  “Of course not,” Sage replied. “But if I recall, you weren’t supposed to get involved. Just get the ice diva to melt.”

  “Thanks, Sage.” Quentin already felt guilty enough about gaining Avery’s trust under false pretenses. He’d pursued her relentlessly and now what? Guilt gnawed at his insides.

  “I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” Sage said.

  “I know, I know,” he said. He hadn’t been looking for anything serious either, just a little fun. But in the short time he’d known her, Avery had been real and honest with him. She’d let her guard down and opened up to him about the fact that she’d been adopted, and he’d trusted her with his rocky childhood. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d trusted a woman with his feelings, but he had with Avery.

  “If you didn’t feel anything, I’d think something was wrong,” Sage said. She walked around the counter and peered at Quentin. “But you do, so something tells me that Avery’s become more to you than you’d envisioned. Am I right? Are you falling for her, Q?”

  “Of course not.” Quentin denied it even though deep down he knew Sage spoke the truth. “I’m not a relationship kinda guy. I don’t do commitment.”

  She peered into his ebony eyes. “You’re lying. You’ve developed feelings for her, but you’re afraid to admit it.”

  “I’ll admit that she’s not the ice queen I originally thought she was. She’s warm, kind and passionate. Extremely passionate, but that doesn’t mean this is going anywhere. Matter of fact, I’ve won the bet, so if I wanted to, I could move on.”

  “But you don’t want to, do you? You’re going to continue seeing her, aren’t you?” Quentin didn’t answer. Sage patted his back. “It’s okay, Q. It’ll be our little secret. Enjoy Avery. You deserve all the happiness you can get.”

  “I didn’t find any matches in New Hampshire,” Woody told Avery over the phone on Thursday. “So I expanded my search to include the East Coast and I located several matches.”

  “That close?”

  “Yes, I figured given the times back then, your biological mother probably went to Manchester to give birth to avoid controversy in her hometown.”

  “And?” Avery held her breath. She was sure there was more that Woody wasn’t saying and she was almost afraid to know the answer.

  “I’ve found her, Avery.”

  Suddenly, all the air went out of the room and Avery grasped for her chair to avoid passing out. “You…You found her?” She pulled her chair underneath herself.

  “Yes. She lives in upstate New York, in Buffalo to be exact,” Woody replied. “I have an address for you, if you want to write it down.”

  “Give me a minute, okay? To catch my breath. This comes as quite a shock.” Avery hadn’t expected Woody to find her biological mother so quickly. Once she had a few minutes to compose herself, she finally asked, “What can you tell me about her?”

  “Well,” Woody paused. “Her name is Leah Johnson. She’s married and a mother of three.”

  “She has more children?” Avery gasped. She had never thought about that.

  “Yes, two boys and a girl.”

  “I see.” So her birth mother had gone on to have more children. They’d had the mother Avery had been denied.

  “Avery, I know this must be upsetting for you. But your mother was only twenty when she had you and wasn’t ready to be a parent. She waited to have children until she was in her early thirties,” Woody tried to explain.

  “How old are they?” Avery inquired. “My half brothers and sisters, that is?”

  “The oldest boy is twenty-one, the youngest is nineteen and your half sister is sixteen.”

  “And her husband?”

  “A prominent surgeon. He’s well respected in the community. Leah’s a full-time homemaker.”

  Avery felt sick to her stomach. Sounded as if her biological mother had had a wonderful life after she’d given up her first child. “Thank you, Woody. I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  “It was my pleasure. Now if you have a pen and paper, I can give you her address and phone number.”

  Now that the information was right in Avery’s grasp, she hesitated reaching for it.

  “Avery?”

  “Oh yes, go ahead.” She jotted down Leah’s address and phone number in Buffalo.

  “Give me a call, Avery. I’d like to know how it goes.”

  “Sure, Woody,” she said as she hung up.

  When her fingers began dialing Quentin’s cell phone, it surprised Avery that he was the first person she wanted to confide in despite the fact that she hadn’t told him about her search. To say that she had mixed emotions about finding out the identity and location of her biological mother was the understatement of the year. “Quentin, it’s Avery.”

  “Is something wrong?” he asked because she sounded upset.

  “I need to talk to you. Are you going to be home later?” Avery sniffed.

  “Whatever you need, baby. I’m here.”

  “Great, I’ll see you after work.”

  Avery walked through the afternoon in a daze. She even ignored Hunter’s snarky comments. She was thankful when the clock struck five and she could leave the gallery.

  When Quentin slid open the door to his loft, Avery rushed into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly, he could hardly breathe. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Everything,” she replied, finally releasing him. She headed to his sectional leather sofa and plopped down.

  “Talk to me,” Quentin said, closing the door and coming to sit beside her. “Has something happened?”

  “I hired a private investigator to find my biological mother,” Avery blurted out.

  “I see. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Because I thought you might be upset. You told me to be thankful for the loving parents I do have and I didn’t want to appear ungrateful.”

  “Avery,” Quentin sighed. Why did she always underestimate him? He wouldn’t judge her for wanting to know her birth parents. “You’re welcome to your feelings. I would never begrudge you that. My experience and your experience are totally different. I knew who my mother was. She just chose not
to care. On the other hand, you have no idea who she is. If I were you, I would want to know where I came from, too.”

  “You would?” Avery’s eyes grew wide with amazement.

  “Yes, of course.” Quentin smiled, stroking her cheek.

  She nodded. “Well, I know now.” She attempted a smile. “My private investigator found her, Quentin, and I don’t know what to do. When I started this, it was more of an issue of entitlement. I had a right to know who she was, but now that it’s here…” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m scared, Quentin. I’m not sure if I should have opened Pandora’s box. She has a whole new family.”

  “You don’t have to do anything with this information, Avery.”

  She turned sharply toward him. “Why do you say that?”

  “I only meant that you can take some time and digest all of this.”

  “And what aren’t you saying, Quentin?”

  “I’m cautioning you, Avery.” He scooted closer to her on the couch. “I don’t want you to get hurt, baby, or be disappointed. Because as you said, she has a whole new life now. She may not want to include you.”

  “Or it could be the reverse?” Avery replied, struggling to be optimistic. “She may want to get to know me.”

  “I would love for that to be the case for you, Avery, but what if it isn’t?” He tried to be the voice of reason. He’d hate for Avery to have her hopes dashed.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, Quentin.” Her entire body began to shake as fearful images built in her mind. “I suppose you’re right, I could get hurt, but I don’t want to spend my life staring at strangers to see if someone looks like me. For once, I’d like to know where I fit in.”

  Quentin understood more than she knew. He remembered all too well what it felt like to be an outsider. He’d felt like one at the orphanage, but once he’d made friends with Malik, Dante and Sage, it hadn’t seemed to matter as much anymore. He’d found a safe haven, a place to call home. That was what his friends were to him. They were like home.

  “Come here,” Quentin said, leaning back and sinking into the cushions. Avery moved closer until she was sandwiched between his big strong thighs with his solid chest as her pillow. When she rested her head on his chest, Quentin softly stroked her hair. “I’ll support you in whatever you decide.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead.

 

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