His heart melted at the sight of his little darlings. Bending down, he stretched out his arms to hug them. Simone was tall and slender with a ponytail draped down her back, Sierra, smaller and more round, had hair that barely touched her shoulders. Both had smiles that could make the sun rise and his heart dance with joy. Each was a perfect combination of Brandi’s creamy light brown beauty and Vernon’s chiseled features. At least that was something that was purely a natural thing. Because even something as simple as naming them had been an issue.
♥♥♥
Two months before Simone was born Brandi had said, “I want her to have my last name, too.”
Startled out of good sleep, he had turned over and replied, “Children should take on the last name of their father.”
“Why—because it’s tradition?” she snapped. “Well, I’m not going for it. They’ll have both of our names or just mine alone.”
Fully awake, Vernon sat up in bed. “No way in hell is that going to happen.”
“And why can’t I have some say?” she asked, rubbing a hand over her huge stomach.
“Because I’m head of the household.”
“Yes, but you’re not the one who’s enduring the morning sickness, going to the bathroom every ten minutes, backaches that last for days,” she shot back. “Then I’m the one who has to squeeze a couple of heads of lettuce through an opening meant for a carrot. Unless you’re doing more than just getting your rocks off on this one, stud, I suggest you get used to either a hyphen between our names or enjoy the extra space between us in bed. You pick.”
The children had both their names. And it was only when they put Simone in school that he finally understood Brandi’s logic. Caldwell was a lot further up the alphabet than Spencer. Having been called nearly last for the majority of everything in his life, Vernon could see the wisdom in the girls having his wife’s last name. Still, it would have been nice if Brandi had voiced it that way instead of making it a major two-month fight. But then again, maybe he wouldn’t have seen it that way if she had.
He had tried to get Brandi to at least try once more for a son, but she refused, saying she hadn’t wanted children in the first place. At times he realized the mistake of convincing her to have children since it didn’t get the desired result—a wife that would be so devoted to her kids she would stay at home and leave the business end of things to him. That had been wishful thinking on his part, and consistent pressure from his dad. Pressure that created more problems than Vernon could count.
“Daddy, we missed you.”
“You did, sweetheart?” he said, hugging Simone.
“Yes!” Sierra said, gazing adoringly into his eyes. “Where were you?”
Vernon looked up in time to see Brandi’s smirk reappear. “Oooooh, here and there,” he said, glaring at his wife. “I’m going to be away for a little while, but I’ll come and pick you up sometime, okay?”
“Daddy, please don’t go.” The soft, lilting sound of his younger daughter’s voice pierced his heart.
“I have to, baby. I don’t have a choice,” he answered, looking back at a scowling Brandi.
Tanya being around every day wouldn’t be good for them. Had Brandi thought beyond her own selfishness? Okay, he shouldn’t have slept around on her and all that, but damn! He wasn’t hurting anybody. And if someone hadn’t clued her in, she still wouldn’t have a problem. Neither would Tanya. An after careful thought, he knew who that someone was…
The girls held onto him, wanting to know why he had to leave. An instant of understanding coursed through him. If there was any way of pulling things back together, it was through the girls. The look on Brandi’s face when the girls asked, for a fourth time, why he was leaving, had been worth millions.
His wife simply said in a stony voice, “Your daddy brought us a new family member who can help out around here. Then he changed his mind. I haven’t.”
Tanya leaned on the door frame, waiting for him to contradict the woman of the house. Now what could he say to that?
Things were getting real complicated, real fast.
♥♥♥
Hours later, around sunset, after much soul-searching, he realized that he would have to do some tall talking, but maybe, just maybe Mama would let him stay. But after mentally preparing himself, especially after what he had done to her, then going to her house only to find her gone, Vernon ended up at Craig’s house.
Craig opened the door and Vernon quickly made his request. Alanna, a dark-skinned beauty with killer curves and a luscious pair of lips, appeared beside her man, glowering angrily at Vernon. Seconds later, she yanked Craig inside and slammed the door. A stunned Vernon could hear their heated voices through the screen door.
“But that’s my friend,” Craig yelled. “You can’t just leave him out there like that.”
“You want to join him?”
Craig stammered, “I—I—I—No!”
“Then I suggest you keep your nose out of this business. This is my house and I won’t have a lying, cheating asshole like him under my roof.”
“I pay the bills around this place, too,” Craig shot back. “We can’t leave him out in the cold.”
“Well, I’ll give you a choice,” Alanna shot back. “If Vernon comes in, I’m walking out—with the kids!”
Silence from the home team.
Game over, man. Game over!
Vernon strolled back to the truck and drove back to his mother’s place, knocking on the door for what seemed an eternity, but there was still no answer.
A neighbor, Mrs. Morton, peeked over the waist-high bushes, saying, “You might as well give up until next week. She’s in the Bahamas.”
“Next week!” The whole world was against him. “What’s she doing in the Bahamas?”
“On a literary cruise with someone named Zane or Strebor or something like that.” Then the pug-nosed, silver-haired woman added in her raspy voice, “She went with that new fellow of hers. He’s downright fantastic! She deserves him. More than I can say for that bigmouth father of yours.”
Vernon resisted the urge to flip the woman the finger. His mother would never let him hear the end of it. New man? His mama had a new man? When did that happen? And was the buzzard living with her? Where would that leave him? He turned to walk back to the car.
His mother’s neighbor said, “They’re going to Hedonism with the same group next month.”
Vernon paused, and turned back to the old woman. “Isn’t that the place folks walk around…naked?”
“Yep,” she said, giving him a grin. “That’s the spot.”
His mother? Romping around naked on the beach with some man? Good Lord!
Having depleted the last of his cash, Vernon had little options. Parking the U-Haul in the lot at the office, hoping that the regular security guard would come on duty and let him in, Vernon yanked the blanket over his shoulders and curled up for another cold night.
CHAPTER Nineteen
Brandi stretched out on the solarium sun lounger, reading When Somebody Loves You Back, hoping the Mary B. Morrison novel would take her mind off her husband. Though it was an exceptional read, the steamy sex scenes only served to make her want to sprint to the nearest dildo. She missed her husband already. How arrogant for him to believe that showing up in a U-Haul would make her change her mind and take him back. If she made things that easy, he’d do it again. No, she and her little toys would continue to be best friends for a while until Vernon got the message. But then again, he’d always been arrogant, so she couldn’t expect him to learn quickly. His arrogance almost caused her to overlook him in the first place.
♥♥♥
What was Morehouse doing to those men? Brandi thought as she and Avie cut in front of Fisk’s administration building, trying to get to her dorm room at Crosswaite Hall. Confidence was one thing, but arrogance that boded on a superiority complex was a total waste of manhood—and every one of the Morehouse Seven had it. They came up every other weekend now, working
with the spring line of pledges, and wreaked havoc with the female population the moment they stepped on campus. Fisk men had a southern gentleman edge laced with a Chicago cool that she found attractive. Michael Cobb was the man for her. Vernon had a touch of bad boy, reminding her a bit of Hollywood—a type she’d vowed to stay as far away from as possible. Vernon made that practically impossible. He and the Morehouse Seven showed up for all the parties in Jubilee Hall. Thanks to having a party animal for a roommate and best friend, Brandi showed up for the parties more than she wanted.
Vernon sprinted across the lawn, catching up with her and Avie before the girls reached Crosswaite. “So what’s up, baby?”
“Nothing but education,” Brandi said, giving him a cursory glance. He wore a Morehouse T-shirt over his muscular frame, and a pair of jeans that fit his butt in a way that said, “Touch at your own risk!” He was enough to make any woman spread ’em like Imperial margarine.
“So when are you going to let me take you to dinner?”
Brandi shrugged, but didn’t break her stride. “Monday. Monday’s good for me.”
Avie let out a little chuckle.
Vernon’s thick eyebrows drew in. “But I’ll be back in Atlanta by then.”
Brandi grinned and gave him a little wink.
“Oh, take the dagger out of my heart, woman,” he said, jerking his fist away from his chest. “You’re killing me!”
“You’ll get over it.”
He reached out and swiped the books from her hand. “Why do you think I keep coming up here?”
“Because you have nothing better to do with your time or money.”
“No, I want you and I’ve never hidden that fact,” he said softly. “Even that giant-sized Fiskite hasn’t scared me off.”
She stopped walking. “Michael?”
“Is that his real name? We call him monster. He told me if I hurt you, he’ll slice off my balls and serve them up two days later for Sunday brunch.”
“Ooooo.” Brandi gleefully rubbed her hands together. “Now that sounds like a plan.”
“Why are you so cold to me?”
“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your big head and the fact that you and your crew think that you’re better than everyone else.”
He grinned. “What’s wrong with being confident?”
“That’s not confidence! That’s arrogance. You don’t allow anyone else to admire what’s good about you. I have a huge problem with that.”
“Okay. So what do you admire about me?”
Avie looked over at him and shook her head. “You don’t want her to tell the truth on that one.”
“Try me.”
Brandi shrugged and said. “I admire your gorgeous rear end.”
He perked up with a cheesy smile.
“Because it means you’re getting the hell away from me,” she concluded.
“Woman, you’re just plain mean,” he said as she and Avie laughed. “Do you know what I like about you?”
“Oh, I’d hate to imagine.”
Suddenly all humor left his handsome face as he said, “Your smile, when you grace the world with it, your laugh because it sounds like music, your quick wit because you always have a fast comeback. But mostly your eyes draw me.” He lifted her chin with a single finger so their eyes met. “The sadness in them reminds me that there’s so much wrong with the world.”
She didn’t have a fast comeback for that.
“If there was any way that I could make that sadness go away, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
At that moment, Brandi’s heart opened and allowed Vernon partway in. He kissed her softly, gently—exploring the moist depths of her mouth with a tongue that teased just because it could. Damn, he tasted good. He ended with a gentle peck on her temple before walking away. His rear end, full and gorgeous, really did look wonderful.
Then the next weekend he brought her flowers.
“Cymbidium orchids?” she said, looking at the card. “Why can’t you just bring roses like everybody else?”
“Roses? Too common, baby,” he said with a little bow. “Roses say, ‘George Jetson, you must’ve goofed up somewhere.’”
She laughed. “You’re been watching too many cartoons. George Jetson goofed up most of the time and Jane had to get him out of it.”
“I guess that’s a matter of perception,” he said softly. He spread his jacket out in the center of the open field which ran along all buildings of the campus. He lay down making himself comfortable before beckoning her to take the place next to him. Placing her books to the side, she sat down and watched him for a moment, marveling at how easy he could tune out the outside campus circling around them. Soon, he reached out, pulling her close and held her as they stared up at the Nashville sky, watching the clear blue coloring draped across the atmosphere as though it was an oil painting.
Her hands were laced in his, her heart raced at almost the speed of a locomotive, and perspiration peppered her forehead: Anxiety, curiosity, and fear trying to occupy the same space at the same time.
He turned his head, kissing her cheek.
Curiosity won, but only slowly. “I’m afraid.”
“I know. That’s why we’re going to spend the whole summer getting you to a point where you don’t pull away from even the simplest touch.”
Their heads were touching at the hairline. She glanced down. “Uh, is that part of you going to be cool with that?”
“Hey, I got him under control.”
“Famous last words!”
“Your eyes remind me of my mother,” he said, stroking a finger across her cheek. “She’s been hurt, too. Being married to my father is no picnic. I should’ve seen what was really going on with you at first, but I was too busy being your favorite asshole.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You weren’t being an asshole, you were being a whole ass.”
He jerked his fist away from his chest, removing another imaginary dagger. “And she still manages to sneak one in.”
“You asked for that.”
He paused for a moment. “Brandi, I know this is short notice, but I was wondering, when you come home for spring break next week, will you come to my house and meet my parents?”
She rose up, resting on one elbow. “Really?”
“My mother’s dying to get a look at you.”
She was elated by the thought, but what he didn’t say scared her a bit. “And your father?”
He tried to come up with the words. “Well, my father’s a bit…he’s um—”
“Indescribable. Sort of like you when I first met you.”
“We’re gonna have to do something about that sharp tongue of yours. Two teaspoons of honey every morning.”
“I thought I’d get a call from you in the mornings.”
“And so you shall.”
Vernon was right about two things. She had his heart and William Spencer was indescribable. He hated Brandi on sight.
CHAPTER Twenty
Vernon strolled up to the front door of The Perfect Fit early Monday morning, still grumbling about his lost wallet. His key card was in there and the office sofa would have been a damn sight better than sleeping in the U-Haul all weekend. Today the regular guard was on duty and let him in, unlike that big bear of a bitch that had given him a hard time when he showed up on Saturday night. He would have her ass fired as soon as he got her name.
He walked through the slate-gray marble foyer, with its plush navy seats, and past the conference room. His gaze scanned the entire floor. A single light was on in an office at the end of the hallway.
Rage lit a fire inside him as he stormed down the hallway, past the file room and the cafeteria, realizing that the only person who could have started this whole thing had nerve enough to be in the office early. If things had gone as planned, he would have put back the money he used to purchase Tanya’s house and ring before Brandi figured it out. Even if she had, he was ready with an explanation.
“Can I have a word with you?”
Michael Cobb, their accountant, looked up from the pink documents in his hands, staring expressionlessly at Vernon as he placed it to the side. “Sure.”
“What in the hell possessed you to tell Brandi?”
Michael’s skin turned a shade darker. His eyes flashed with anger although his full lips curved with a trace of a sad smile. “Because at the rate you were spending, it wouldn’t just cost me the account with The Perfect Fit for keeping my mouth shut, it would also cost other people their jobs.”
Michael’s secretary, Jackie, wearing a fur that swallowed her small frame, stopped in the entrance. Her eyes swept briefly over Vernon, then took in Michael’s angry glare.
Vernon kicked the door closed. He couldn’t quite catch what she said next, but he sure heard her as she stormed to her desk.
“That was real special. A gentleman through and through,” Michael snapped, eyeing Vernon angrily. “Let me tell you what raised a red flag for me. Ten thousand for an engagement ring? The money to cover that had to come from somewhere. Next thing you know the bills don’t get paid around here, then pay cuts and layoffs follow.” The tall, well-built man leaned back in his chair, leveling a steely gaze at Vernon. “I value my job, even if you didn’t value your wife. She should’ve married me when she had the chance.” He smiled, but it don’t quite reach his light brown eyes. “But I believe in second chances. I’ve known since day one that you were going to mess up. All I had to do was wait. Thirteen years is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”
“So that’s what this is about,” Vernon said, crossing the distance in long strides to lean over the man’s glass desk. “You want my wife?”
“Correction, my man. I will have your…ex-wife.” Michael stood, leaning into Vernon. “I’ve waited long enough and now that she’s seen what an asshole you are—it’s prime time, baby. The only reason’s she stuck it out this far is because she hates failure. I’ll make her see that divorcing you is not failure. You were just a starter husband, like the number zero—a placeholder until a real number comes along.”
Every Woman Needs a Wife Page 13