Lake heard the profound love in her voice for her four-year-old twin sons and for his brother, as well. Considering what she did for a living, she and Quinn had a good marriage, a sturdy one. For years, long marriages never seemed to work in the Masters family. His paternal grandmother had been married three times, and his paternal grandfather was on his fifth wife. That’s why his generation of Masterses had vowed not to marry until they were sure they had found the right mate. He was proud to say that his brothers had married wisely.
“So when are you coming back out to L.A.? Your nephews are dying to see you again.”
Alexia knew the best way to get to him was through the kids. He was considered the fun uncle to all his nieces and nephews because he knew how to do magic tricks, something he’d picked up from one of his roommates in college who had a knack for it. “Once I’ve come up with a few new routines. Don’t want to bore them with the old ones.” He laughed. “Last time I think Bennett was on to me.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Blake sleeps through anything, but Bennett misses nothing. Now, how about joining me in a late dinner? I’d love the company. Besides, I want to hear about all the things you’ve been doing since I last saw you.”
“You’ll be bored to tears.”
She smiled and patted his arm affectionately. “I’ll take my chances.”
He couldn’t hold back his grin. She intended to pump him for information she could pass on to his other two sisters-in-law, Faith and Brandy. The three of them thought his days as a single man were numbered—or should be, anyway. “Are you sure about that?”
“I am.”
“Then I’d love joining you.”
“Why me, Toni?”
Peggy Morrison stopped pacing the office of her boss and friend, Antonia Siplin, not sure she could handle what she was being asked to do.
“Because you are the logical person to do it, Peg. We both know you’re here, working away in the media office, getting lost in the shuffle when your real level of expertise lies in public relations. And I need to utilize that expertise to make sure Willie Baker understands just what we’re all about.”
Feeling a headache of defeat coming on, Peggy dropped into a chair across from her best friend’s desk. Her friendship with Antonia went back a long way, all the way to their high school days. Toni had been there for her through thick and thin, had given her a shoulder to cry on when Joe asked for a divorce to marry a younger woman, had been the one to convince her to join Dropped Wives Anonymous when her self-esteem had plummeted so low, she’d nearly driven everyone around her crazy. Now almost three years later, she had finally gotten her act together. She no longer blamed herself or everyone else for the breakup of her marriage. The fact that her husband had left her for a younger woman didn’t rush her to tears and bouts of hysteria as it once had. Her support group of women who’d gone through the same thing was wonderful, and because of them she now thought of a brighter future and new beginnings.
And Toni had been instrumental in hiring her when she’d been out of the workforce for more than twenty years, to take charge of the media department for Making Dreams Come True, a nonprofit organization that granted dreams to terminally ill kids.
She turned her full attention back to Toni and said, “But everyone knows what we’re about, Toni. Why is this donor being given special treatment?”
Toni flipped a mass of blond hair from her face, and her blue eyes shone with determination and dedication when she said, “Because we’re not talking about the sponsorship of a dream trip for a few of our kids. I’m talking about him footing the money to build our own amusement park here in Orlando. Can you imagine such a thing?”
Peggy smiled. Yes and no. Yes, she could imagine such a park and knew how instrumental one would be for the kids. And no, because the very thought that a single person would consider solely footing the bill for such a place went beyond her level of comprehension. “That’s a lot of money.”
Toni nodded. “Yes, and it’s either going to come to us or our sister organization in Atlanta. We want it here, and it’s important that while I’m gone Mr. Baker gets a special tour and breakdown of our facilities by someone with exemplary charm, grace, and style.”
Peggy rolled her eyes, knowing Toni was laying it on thick, or at least trying to. “There has to be someone else you can get.”
“But there’s no one else that I’d trust. My first grandchild picked the worst possible time to be born, but nothing is going to keep me from being there to see it happen, and I want to arrive in Detroit knowing everything is under control back here. So please tell me that you’ll do it.”
“Toni, I—”
“Please. Pretty please.”
Peggy released a long slow breath and then said, “Okay, I’ll do it, but you knew that I would. Didn’t you?”
Toni smiled, satisfied. “Yes, I knew that you would.”
Barbara locked her office door and went back to her desk to open the package that had been delivered to her. It was in a plain wrapper so she figured it was the video she had ordered a few weeks ago titled, Improving Your Sex Performance.
She knew she was one of those women who had sexual hang-ups. The therapist had assured her she wasn’t alone. A lot of women much preferred traditional when it came to sex, but she knew she had to change her thinking about a lot of things.
One day while at the dentist’s office, flipping through a magazine, she had come across an ad for the video and ordered it. Now it was here and she was determined to be open-minded. She would do whatever it took to spice up her performance in the bedroom if it would help keep Ron from straying.
After opening the package she saw the book that accompanied the video. She blushed after flipping through the book and seeing all the different positions for making love. Did couples actually try them? Well, she hoped to find out one day.
7
Could that have gone as badly as she remembered? Courtney wondered, thinking about her date with Harper and his subsequent arrest. A huge article had appeared in the newspaper the next morning about how an FBI sting operation had resulted in the arrest of five individuals, employed at three different banks, and how they had worked together to filter money from various investment accounts to a dummy one they had established.
She thought about what a nice-looking brotha he was, how articulate he’d spoken, how well educated. What a waste—what a stupid mistake. What could he have been thinking to assume he’d get away with it?
“If you’re not going to pay me any attention, we can end this session.”
Courtney glanced across the table at Jetrica. She was right. Courtney hadn’t been paying attention.
“Sorry about that, Jetrica. My mind wandered off for a second. I apologize.”
The fourteen-year-old had been sitting in the office when Courtney arrived, not in anticipation of their meeting but because she had gotten kicked out of class for disrespecting a teacher. With a mass of shoulder-length dreads on her head, Jetrica was a pretty girl, if you could look past the bad attitude she displayed most of the time. But Courtney had quickly caught on to her. All Jetrica wanted was attention, and she was willing to do just about anything to get it. She had beautiful features, although she was trying to make herself appear older and grown-up with the use of an eyebrow pencil, mascara, and lipstick. Then there was that fake beauty mole that dotted her chin, right beneath her bottom lip.
Her clothes, donated from one of the local thrift stores, were all hand-me-downs. But at least the shirt that seemed a deliberate size too small and the jeans that were somewhat too tight, were clean.
“Like I was saying before your mind began wandering,” Jetrica said smartly, irritatingly poking out her lip. “Mrs. Peyton doesn’t like me. She always calls on me to answer a question when she knows good and well that I won’t know the answer.”
“And why won’t you know the answer?” Courtney asked her.
Jetrica rolled her
eyes. “Because I have better things to do with my time than study.”
“Not if you want to get promoted to the next grade.”
Jetrica lifted her chin. “I’m not worrying about that. My grades are good.”
Courtney knew that to be true, which was one of the reasons Vickie had talked her into being Jetrica’s mentor. As amazing as it seemed, even with her badass attitude and deciding to skip school whenever the feeling struck, Jetrica had the ability to ace all her exams, which meant she either did study or she had this ingrained knowledge that was unreal. Courtney leaned toward believing the former. According to Jetrica’s sister, the girl locked herself in her room most of the time with a book in her face. So why couldn’t she come clean and admit she had a thirst for knowledge, and why did she continue to paint herself as a dummy in the classroom?
“There’s nothing wrong with being smart, you know,” Courtney told her.
“I’m not smart,” Jetrica all but snapped.
“Oh, I tend to disagree. And you’re also talented. Several people have asked me about that painting you did for me. They were impressed.”
Courtney saw the flash of interest that lit Jetrica’s eyes moments before she put her nonchalant mask in place and gave a sarcastic remark. “Well, they shouldn’t be, and I hope you told them who did it for you was none of their damn business.”
“Excuse me,” Courtney said, frowning. “I thought I told you that I would not tolerate you saying curse words in front of me.”
“For crying out loud, Ms. Andrews. Damn is not a curse word.”
“It is to me, and not one I want coming from your mouth.”
Jetrica rolled her eyes, which was something she did so often, Courtney figured one day they would get stuck in the top of her head. “And what if I don’t want care?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring.
Courtney was determined not to be put off by Jetrica’s mood. Jetrica was trying her, which she did often enough, but considering how her weekend went, she wasn’t in the mood. “You don’t have a choice, at least not for this school year anyway. You’re stuck with me.”
The frown on the young girl’s face suddenly turned soft, and she giggled. “Okay, I’m stuck with you, which means you’re stuck with me, too.”
Now it was Courtney’s time to roll her eyes. “And I pray every day for God’s strength to endure.”
“Hawaii?” Ron Andrews asked in surprise.
“Yes,” Barbara said excitedly as she stared over at her husband. They had just left from meeting with their marriage therapist and had stopped by a restaurant for dinner. “You heard what the therapist said. Considering everything that’s happened, it will be good to get away for a while, just the two of us, unwind, relax, and rebuild that foundation for our marriage.”
Yeah, he’d heard everything the therapist had said and he’d gotten pretty damn bored just listening to it. When Barbara had given him an ultimatum—they had to seek professional help or else, he had jumped at the idea, willing to do just about anything to save his marriage. But now that Ashira was back in his bed, or rather he in hers—and on a regular basis—he wasn’t all that committed.
But he was cautious. This time he wouldn’t screw up. He had explained things to Ashira, and for once she hadn’t whined, sulked, and complained. She was willing to get him back on any terms, even if it meant playing second fiddle to his wife. She claimed she could handle that. But what she couldn’t handle or put up with was him dropping her again. She had done things for him, both in and out of bed that she hadn’t done for any other man, and wife or no wife, she was in it for the long haul. She didn’t mind being the other woman as long as he knew her place and provided her with the things she wanted. She liked her single life and had no desire to be any man’s wife. She actually relished the thought of being a man’s personal whore. Those had been her words and not his. But the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. His own personal whore. And a willing one. He shifted in his chair, feeling a boner coming on.
“Ron?”
Barbara reclaimed his attention. He looked up at her. His wife wasn’t so bad, and she definitely wasn’t bad looking. In fact, he thought she was rather attractive. And when he imagined truly loving someone, he would immediately think of her. Over the years she had kept her body pretty much in shape. She always dressed nice and looked nice. Some men, probably most, would find her sexy, even at fifty. In a way, he did, too. Until they got into the bedroom.
She was too traditional to suit his taste. At first being traditional had been fine, until he’d gotten a taste of the wild side. It had blown his mind, given his pecker a whole new perspective, and made traditional unattractive. He liked the feel of a woman stroking him first with her hands, then with her mouth. He appreciated, loved, and simply cherished a good blow job, something his wife of almost thirty years still had never performed on him. Once, years ago, he had mentioned it and he’d actually watched her almost gag at the thought. To say she wasn’t adventurous in bed was an understatement. Oral sex was simply something she refused to consider. And after finding out about all his other women, not once had she considered that perhaps the reason he’d sought out others was because of her lack of being creative, spontaneous, and a little freakish.
“Baby, I think the two of us going to Hawaii is a wonderful idea, but have you forgotten I’m teaching classes this semester and finals will be coming up soon?” he asked, hoping that would be an end to it.
A little pout formed on her lips. “Surely you can take off two weeks, Ron. I bet Elijah would be glad to cover for you.”
“I don’t know, Barb.”
“Then ask him. You do want us to spend time together, don’t you?”
To say he didn’t want that would start an argument, which he’d rather avoid. Lately they were getting along just great. He could play the part of the doting husband as long as he was getting some on the side. And Ashira was really laying it on thick. “Yes, of course, I do.”
“And you want our marriage to work out this time.”
“You know I do, sweetheart.”
He saw disappointment settle in her eyes. “Courtney doesn’t think that it will.”
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Courtney doesn’t know everything.”
Barbara pulled her hand back and met his gaze directly. “She knows enough, Ron. Our daughter is the main person who’s been suffering through our marriage, when we couldn’t get our act together. That’s why she’s so cynical. Why she refuses to believe we can make it work this time. We have to prove her wrong.”
Ron scowled down at his plate of food. It was getting cold from him having this damn conversation. He didn’t want to leave town, not even for two weeks. His pecker had gotten spoiled. There were some things it needed on a regular basis, things Barbara wouldn’t deliver for two weeks in Hawaii. But he didn’t want to get her upset. He didn’t want her thinking there was a reason he wasn’t interested in leaving Orlando for a while. Surely he would be able to survive without a mouth down south on him for two weeks.
“If it makes you happy, then I’ll check with Elijah to see if he can cover those classes for me.”
Barbara smiled. “Truly?”
He nodded. “Yes, truly.”
She reached back over across the table and took his hand. “Thanks, Ron. I think it’s a good beginning for us.”
If she said so, but personally, he wasn’t all that certain.
Courtney sat on her screen porch and enjoyed the mixed drink she’d prepared. It had rained earlier, but before dusk had settled, the sun peeped out through the clouds again.
She thought about her meeting with Jetrica. The girl was trying to make it unpleasant to continue mentoring her, but Courtney refused to give up on Jetrica. And then there was that extraordinary talent the girl had. She could be an awesome artist if she put her mind to it. What Courtney had told her earlier that day was the truth. That painting Jetrica had done and
given her for Christmas was simply amazing.
A few moments later, Courtney got up, went into her bedroom, and pulled her little black book out of the night-stand drawer. She was determined not to let what happened on her date with Harper deter her from seeking out another name. Besides, she had made Sonya a promise. She had marked out Harper’s name after that first night, and the next name listed was Don Woods.
She reached for the phone, hoping her experience with Don would be better than the one she’d had with Harper.
8
Don Woods was a brotha on the down-low.
And it was a downright dirty shame, Courtney thought, sitting across from him and sipping her drink. She hadn’t picked up on it immediately, but it hadn’t taken too long to figure it out. He was handsome in a manly sort of way, well built and muscular. His voice was deep and husky. His mannerisms didn’t raise suspicions either … at first.
But when she had looked up from studying her menu and caught him giving their waiter more than a cursory glance, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something wasn’t right. To be fair, she hadn’t wanted to jump to conclusions, so for the rest of the evening she’d had to rely on her keen sense of observation. By the end of dinner, she was convinced Don should be calling himself Dawn instead.
“You never did say where you got my number?”
Courtney met his gaze across the table. When she had called him, unlike Harper, he had asked about that. She hadn’t told him then, and she had no intention of telling him now. “Why does that matter since you decided to meet me tonight anyway?” she asked, wondering what his response would be. Chances were, he wouldn’t argue the point.
He smiled. “You’re right, it doesn’t matter. I’m here, and so are you. You are a very beautiful woman.”
Her Little Black Book Page 6