by Dyanne Davis
“He thinks he’s the man she’s going to marry, Tommy. You have no right to hate him just as you had no right to tear up a check that he meant to help the cause.”
“This is not about money.”
“No, maybe not, but a million dollars would have gone a hell of a long way toward saving the bookstores.”
“He was trying to buy me,” Tommy yelled. “Don’t you understand that?”
“So what? For a million dollars he could have bought me. So what if he wanted to make sure you kept your hands off his woman? I don’t blame him. And I don’t blame him for finally telling your ass off. You’ve tied her up for three weeks and you’ve got the sister feeling so guilty that she’s listening to every word you say as though you’re the Messiah. I’m surprised that even she allowed you to take over her life like that.
“Damn, man, she’s a writer. When is she supposed to write? You’ve kept her so busy that I know she hasn’t had time to even write a thank you card. I know she couldn’t have been taking care of her man, not as tired as she was every day when she left here. That shit you pulled on her that day you got that little impromptu party started, man, that wasn’t cool. First you had her crying, and then you kissed her.”
Tommy looked up, stunned; Neal had never told him he’d seen that. “Were you spying on me?” Tommy asked, snarling.
“I wasn’t spying but the way you were yelling at her I was keeping an eye on things.”
“What, you thought I was going to hit her?”
“How would I know? You were angry. I’ve never seen or heard you like that and the look on her face, she was terrified of you.”
“You’re crazy, she’s never been afraid of me.”
“She was that day. It was in her eyes.”
“If she was afraid, why would she let me kiss her?”
“Who knows? Maybe she was too afraid not to.”
Tommy glared at the thought that Mary Jo could have been afraid of him. Why would she—A memory flickered of the one time he’d wanted to. He blinked rapidly and kept it at bay. “I wasn’t going to hit her. I’ve never hit her.”
“You shouldn’t have been yelling at her like that.”
“I agree,” Tommy said, this time sobered and ashamed of his past actions. “Still, why couldn’t she call herself?”
“Maybe her fiancé has noticed that around you she loses her will. It’s like she can’t say no to you, like you’re the puppet master and you’re pulling her strings. I just don’t think you have a right to hate the dude. If she was your woman, you wouldn’t like her hanging out every day with an ex, now would you?”
“No, guess I wouldn’t,” Tommy said, knowing that part of the reason he’d jammed the days with things for her to do was to keep her near him and away from Simon Kohl. It hadn’t started out like that, but it had quickly turned into that as being near her forced the memories of what they’d had to spring up like sweet grass covering a field. He’d been unable to control his jealousy.
“Still, what the hell am I going to do about the signing? I promised Sandra I’d have her there. She has people coming.”
“Give Donna and Andrea a call. They’re in town. If you can get them to go, you can take a bunch of the signed copies that Ms. Lace left in the store.”
“That’s not her signing them in person.”
“No, but for now it’s the best you can do. Besides, Donna and Andrea are heavy hitters. The people won’t be disappointed for long.”
No, Tommy thought, they wouldn’t, but he would.
Chapter Seventeen
Seven days and seven nights of passion. Simon wondered how their honeymoon would ever top it. Who in the world would have believed he would enjoy a week in Branson, Missouri, but Janice had wanted to go and he’d conceded. She’d been right. For once they weren’t pursued by the press.
If he’d known how much of a buzz he’d create when he made the public announcement of their upcoming nuptials maybe he would have done it quietly, as she’d wanted. Still, he was making a point. He wanted everyone to know that Janice Lace or Mary Jo Adams belonged to him and he belonged to her.
Her hair was tousled on the pillows. He tugged at a few strands and she swatted at him in her sleep. He smiled as he looked at her creamy brown skin. It was flawless. He wondered why she would ever wear makeup. For the entire week she hadn’t worn any, not even lipstick. That, she’d tried initially but he’d kept kissing it off, so she’d laughed and said forget it.
“Wake up, sleepy head, I’m lonely,” he whispered in her ear as he ran his hands up the side of her body. Longing swelled in his chest, threatening to consume him. Very soon he would test her. Harold was correct; she had a right to know all of his secrets and he would tell her. After they were married.
“Wake up, baby,” he whispered again.
“Why?” she moaned sleepily.
And he grinned.
Two hours later they were sprawled across the bed, exhausted, sated and happy, not wanting to leave their own special paradise.
“This entire week has been the most fun I can remember having in a long time,” Simon said.
Janice stared at him in amazement. “We always have fun.”
“Not like this,” he insisted. “Not an entire week, with no fighting, no baiting each other, no appointments, just the two of us. I wish it could always be like this.”
She knew what he meant. Once they returned home, their hectic life would return. Besides that, she had a deadline for her book and she had not written a word since they’d decided to just take off.
“God, I hate to go home,” he said softly. “I wish we could just stay here forever.”
“We could,” Janice laughed.
“Real life, baby,” he said wistfully, “real life awaits us at home.”
* * *
Real life hit with a bang. Simon had a stack of urgent messages to return, all from Harold. It was the first time in his life that Simon had never told Harold where he was going. He hadn’t wanted anyone or anything spoiling the week.
Janice had her own pile. Her lips twitching, she smiled up at Simon. “Honey, we’re home.”
He laughed and kissed her. “I guess we should both return some of these calls.” He turned to walk toward his office but Janice put her hand on his arm to stop him. “Why don’t we forget waiting and just go down to city hall and get married today?”
“Are you serious?”
“What’s the matter, you’re getting cold feet now?” She stared at him, issuing a challenge.
“You’re serious.” He gave her his full attention. Flipping the mail back into his basket, he smiled and asked, “What about your family?”
“I think it’s better this way: We get married, they come, they go home and we go off on our honeymoon.”
“Oh baby, I forgot I promised your mother that we would have her here before the wedding, so she could get to know me.”
“Tell her we changed our plans.”
“Do you really want to start off our marriage with your family hating me?”
“Join the club. Besides, we’re in a good place right now. I think we should do it.” She stood before him, her hands planted on her hips. “We should do it before something happens to change things.”
Simon kissed her, breathing in her essence. “Don’t worry, baby, nothing’s going to happen.” He drew her into his arms.“It’s up to us to either keep the spirit of what we found on our vacation or go back to our old routine of fighting. I’m giving up fighting. What about you?”
“I don’t want to fight either,” Janice finally admitted.
“So, do you want to make the arrangements for your family to come or shall I?”
“Just remember that I warned you about my family. This was your idea. You make the arrangements. I have to work on my book.”
Something was happening to her. Janice could feel it deep inside. Her heart felt freer than she could ever remember. It was as though she was coming into the light afte
r a long period of darkness.
Janice passed the mirror on her way to her study. She saw the grin on her face and stopped, not believing at first that the face was hers. She was happy. Damn, she was really happy; there was no pretense. Simon made her happy.
And for the first time in twelve years the desire to make another person happy filled her. She wanted to make Simon happy. She wanted to give him what he wanted: her total trust, her love and most importantly, the words.
She stood still for a long moment thinking about it. The thought of giving her all to Simon, to anyone, still left her petrified, but she wanted to try. He deserved so much more than she’d given him over the years. After all, she trusted Simon totally with her money; maybe it was time she trusted him with her heart. She grinned again. She knew just how to start.
* * *
“Tommy, hi, sorry that I had to bail on you.” Janice waited, determined not to let Tommy’s opinion change her mind. If he didn’t like Simon calling him and canceling her schedule, he certainly wouldn’t like what she was about to tell him now.
“Tommy,” she laughed, “come on, stop pouting.”
“I’m not pouting,” he answered. “You really messed things up for me,” he lied. “I have a reputation and if I don’t come through with the things I promise then my word is no good.”
“I know and I apologize for that.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“No reason.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“It was no big deal.” Janice sighed. “Don’t make more out of it than it was.”
“How can you stand letting Simon Kohl run your life? You were never like that before.”
Now she was getting annoyed. She’d wanted to try to keep this conversation friendly but Tommy was determined to make it personal. “Tommy, you complain about Simon running my life but when we were together you seemed to do a pretty good job of doing it.” She heard him sputtering his objections on the other end of the phone.
“You were not like that with me; you were a fighter.”
“With everyone else, Tommy, not you. Tell me one time you remember our fighting.”
“I remember one time,” Tommy answered immediately.
Janice winced and closed her eyes to stop the pain of the memories. “Don’t do this to me, Tommy. That’s not fair. You’ve never once tried to understand how I felt.”
Her stomach clenched and she swallowed. This wasn’t what the call was about. “Other than that time, Tommy, I never fought with you. You controlled me, my thoughts, my wants, my dreams. I don’t know now if my plans were things that I wanted or things you told me that I wanted.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to save the bookstores?”
“I’m not saying that. I’m saying I don’t know if any of the plans we had then were my plans. Look at me now, I’m a writer, not a revolutionary. Maybe that’s what I always wanted to be.”
“You were never interested in writing. You started that to take a dig at me.”
“You think that’s why I started writing?”
“Yes,” Tommy answered without a pause. “Look at the things you write about: men who can’t be trusted, women in pain. You don’t think I knew all of your books were aimed at me? I knew they were.”
“Then why did you bother reading them?” For that he had no answer. “Maybe in the beginning I did write things to get over you, to not hurt so much, but that’s not what I’m doing now, Tommy.”
“Of course not,” he almost shouted. “There isn’t a black man anywhere in your books, let alone a strong black man. If you’re going to write, the least you could do is show the African American male in a positive light.”
“I’m not out to change society. I’m writing books about and for women.”
“Yeah, right. You could do so much good if you wrote stories showing black men how to step up to the plate, or stories that champion black men who take care of their families, who don’t leave their women when the going gets rough.”
“Besides my father and my brothers, where would I find such a man, Tommy?”
“You’re talking to one,” he snarled.
“You weren’t that man when I needed one.”
The phone slammed in her ear and she looked at it. She hadn’t taken care of the reason for the call. She dialed again.
“Neal, would you ask Tommy to give you the schedule he’s worked out? If you’ll fax it to me, I’ll see if it’s doable.” She gave him her fax number and waited. The fax beeped at the same instant that the phone rang on her desk.
“You need to look at what I’ve planned and get back to me.”
“Yes,” Janice answered. She’d known Tommy would call back.
“Do you have it?”
“It’s coming through now.”
“What’s been wrong with the way things have being going?”
“I’ve not bothered to ask Simon his plans. I neglected to see if your plans conflicted with his.”
“Are you telling me that some fancy dinner or an award ceremony compares with saving the bookstores?”
“I’m telling you that I’m getting married in six weeks and my husband’s schedule will influence my own.”
“Where the hell did you disappear to, Mary Jo? You’re acting like you’re his slave.”
“I’m not his slave, Tommy. I’m going to be his wife and he deserves my consideration. We both know why you keep using that analogy; you’re trying to rile me up. It’s not going to work. Just a minute,” she said and retrieved the papers from the fax machine. “I have the schedule.”
“And?” Tommy barked.
“And I have to check it out with Simon and get back to you.”
“This isn’t about Simon. Do you think he gives a damn if every black bookstore in the country closes down? He’s not black, Mary Jo. You are. Or did you forget it?”
“I don’t see how I could, Tommy, but I can tell you that Simon has done more for the black community than you’ll ever know. And he cares, Tommy, you’re wrong about that. And he doesn’t care because of me. He cared long before he ever met me.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a decent man.”
“I find that most decent white men working hard to help black people have a reason, some guilt some baggage. What about Simon Kohl? This entire country got rich off the backs of our people. You don’t think Simon Kohl money’s tainted?”
“Do you have any proof of that?”
“No.”
“Then you’re reaching for straws. Don’t try to sully Simon’s reputation because you don’t like him. Another thing, Tommy, you should have taken that check he gave you and used it to help the bookstores. The fact that you tore it up tells me you haven’t changed that much. You’re still arrogant, determined to do things your own way.”
“You know, I should just forget about you, stop trying to help you find your way back to being Mary Jo. I use to think that I knew you, knew what was important to you. What the hell happened to you, Mary Jo?”
“You happened, Tommy.” This time he didn’t hang up and neither did she. “I’ll go over this with Simon and I’ll let you know what things work with our schedule.”
“Why don’t you just forget it. The bookstores can get along just fine without you.”
“If that is the case why did you ask for my help? Why did you get me on national television and make such a big deal out of it?” Janice’s voice was rising and she caught herself and stopped. Simon’s study was at the other end of the mansion but still she didn’t want him to hear. She didn’t want anyone to hear her.
“It’s your choice, Tommy, but you’re not going to make me feel guilty. This is my life and I’m going to do what I please. Like I said, I’ll call you back later. Bye,” she said and placed the phone on the cradle.
Janice clenched her teeth and flung her arms around her trembling body. Tommy was not going to get to her. She’d given him too much power once in her life. She was
not going to do it again.
Disgusted, she turned on her computer and attempted to write. She found herself writing about Tommy, things she didn’t know she still felt. When she heard a soft knock on the door, she deleted it.
“Ms. Lace, Mr. Kohl wanted me to tell you that he’s going to work for another couple of hours returning phone calls. He wanted to know if you would be able to take a break then. He’d like to take you out for lunch.”
Janice smiled. “Why didn’t he just buzz me?” she said, pointing to the intercom.
“He didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Tell him I’ll be able to take a break in two hours and I’d love to go to lunch.”
As the door closed, Janice looked at the schedule in her hand. She had hoped that she and Tommy could be friends; they’d both agreed that they’d like that, but their past kept coming back. He couldn’t forgive her and she couldn’t forgive him.
One day they would have to bring everything out into the open. Maybe a fight to the death, Janice thought. She laughed, then sobered immediately. Death was what had caused the hole in her heart. Because of the abortion she’d stopped trusting. It was her reason for hating Tommy and his reason for hating her.
* * *
Simon was doing his best to keep his temper. He’d been going back and forth with Harold for two hours. One week, that was all the time he’d asked for to try and have a normal life. Yet in that one week utter chaos had erupted and Harold had barely contained things. To say Simon was livid was an understatement.
“Harold, are you telling me that an official investigation by the group has been launched into my past?”
“Well, it’s not government initiated.”
“Do you think this is funny?” Simon snarled. “I thought you said this would never happen on your watch.”
“I said no information would be found. I didn’t say people wouldn’t come looking. Hell, what with everything that’s going on you knew they would.”
Harold was a bit annoyed himself. “You should have left it alone. You never had to involve the man. You threw money at him thinking he wouldn’t know what you were doing. Well, he did. He was insulted and rightly so. I don’t blame him.”