Just Say The Word

by Tiffany Patterson

  Those were the thoughts I filled my mind with as I squeezed my arms around Damon’s waist, pressing my body to his, trying to seek out his warmth. If only I could hide inside of his warmth until all this blew over. I sighed.

  “Hey,” he pulled back, tipping my chin to raise my face to his, “you ready to talk about what’s going on with you?”

  I began shaking my head. “What? There’s nothing—”

  I stopped short when he began shaking his head. “Don’t.” His voice was stern and full of warning. “Don’t even finish that sentence because it’ll just mean you’re lying to my face. And we both know the truth, which is there is something you haven’t been telling me. I’ve been patient because I am a patient man. I’ve been patient for as long as I could. But there’s a time for patience and a time for action.”

  I pulled back. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I’ll spell it out for you then. You’ve been putting off whatever you’re not telling me for long enough. And I’m tired of waiting for you to let me in. So, once this fundraiser is over, we’re going to discuss whatever it is you obviously don’t want me to know. Because, if you haven’t figured out by now, I’m in this with you for the long haul. I want you and Monique to move in with me, eventually. Someday soon. You know I’m not bullshitting when I say that. That’s not who the fuck I am.”

  “I know that.”

  “Good. Then you should know that who is bothering you, or whatever it is that has you so scared that it puts that ghosted look in your eyes, is in a world of trouble once I find out the truth. Just know that.”

  My mouth dropped. I was dumbfounded, speechless because what the hell are you supposed to say when someone makes a declaration like that?

  Thankfully, I didn’t need to find any words at that moment because the driver pulled into the parking lot of the museum. A minute later we stopped out front of the main entrance while the driver held the door open for us to exit.

  Damon held my hand, helping me out of the car. I dared to look into his eyes and saw again the searing seriousness they held. I didn’t even want to think about what he’d said in the car. I didn’t want to think about forcing myself to tell him the words that were so difficult for me to say.

  When he reached around and lowered his hand to the small of my back, I straightened my shoulders, held my head up, and pushed all of those ugly thoughts to the back of my mind. I’d figure out what to say later that night. Right then, I would focus on taking part in a fundraiser in which Joshua and Kayla were big contributors to and organizers of.

  “You know Joshua started this as a tribute to an old friend of his and Kayla’s that died of ovarian cancer,” I remarked, glancing over at Damon as we made our way up the stairs to the main entrance. I was trying hard to push past the uncomfortable moment.

  Damon nodded but kept his gaze straight ahead. “Chelsea. Joshua’s ex and Kayla’s former best friend,” he replied, obviously knowing the same story I did.

  “It’s kind of them to remember her in this way.”

  Damon nodded but didn’t say anything.

  We made it up to the entrance where he gave the security staff our names, after which we were quickly let inside. I glanced around the entrance and found a number of people dressed up in their gowns and tuxedos as well.

  “Joshua and Kayla are already here,” Damon stated as he looked at his phone. He stuck it back in the pocket of his pants. “You want a glass of champagne?”

  I nodded, not really wanting a drink but feeling like I needed to fill my hands with something. Not only had our impromptu conversation in the car rattled me but I’d never been to an event such as this one. I may have grown up around some of the well-to-do in Williamsport thanks to my grandmother’s connections, but it’d been a long time since I was in these circles. The actual mayor of the city was present, along with the police commissioner, state senators, top business leaders, high-ranking hospital staff, and more.

  And then there was the man I came with.

  I glanced up at his profile. Even with the awkwardness between us, I still couldn’t keep my eyes off him for too long, nor did I want to. He was a true specimen. He also must’ve noticed me staring at him out of the corner of his eye, because he soon peered down at me and gave me a quick wink before lowering to grant me a small peck on the lips.

  I pushed out the breath I’d been holding. Just that quickly he’d reassured me. Perhaps everything would be all right. Maybe I could share with him my deepest, darkest secret. Lord knew I was tired of holding it in.

  “Damon.”

  I glanced up and my eyes widened, stunned to see the youngest of the Townsend brothers smiling as he approached Damon and I, his obviously pregnant wife on his arm.

  “What’s up, Ty, Destiny?” Damon greeted, shaking his hand before leaning down to press a kiss to Destiny’s cheek.

  “Hey, Sandra,” Destiny greeted. I smiled at her. She and I were close to the same height, while the men on both our arms towered over us at six-foot-three inches. However, when Tyler glanced down at his wife, his hazel-green eyes softening, it was evident who really held the power in that relationship.

  I looked up to find Damon staring at me in much the same way. My knees grew wobbly at that realization.

  “Are you enjoying your off-season, Mr. MVP?” Damon asked.

  Tyler chuckled. “Hell yeah,” he answered, pulling Destiny—who cupped her baby bump—into his side. “Running errands all day for this one.”

  Grinning, Destiny shrugged. “The babies want what they want.”

  “Yeah, and last night they wanted chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream at one in the morning.” Tyler frowned.

  “I remember those cravings. I had them with Monique,” I added.

  Destiny looked up to her husband and pointed at me. “See? I’m not making these things up.” She turned back to me. “Thank you for letting my husband know that I’m not faking these cravings. I don’t even like sweets all that much. It’s the babies,” she insisted.

  I laughed. Destiny was pregnant with triplets. If Tyler knew what was good for him, he’d just comply and get her whatever she wanted.

  We talked and laughed for a few more minutes before Damon and I parted from Tyler and Destiny. Damon grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, one for each of us.

  “Did you really have those types of cravings when you were pregnant?”

  I looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Absolutely. But it wasn’t ice cream. For me it was bananas with doughnuts. Glazed doughnuts only.” I shook my head, shuddering at the memory. It was a snack I devoured while pregnant but hadn’t eaten since.

  “Bananas and doughnuts,” he reiterated, pulling a face.

  I shrugged. “I think it was also because I had access to both working at the diner while pregnant. Thank god the cravings subsided once I had her.”

  He laughed and I stared at his perfect smile.

  “You know a part of me believed that was the reason why she got sick with diabetes.”

  He paused, his champagne flute halfway to his mouth. “Really?”

  I nodded and shrugged, eyes moving around the room of people before looking back up at him. “It’s common. At least, that’s what the doctors told me. Parents often blame themselves when a child ends up sick. I thought because I’d eaten so unhealthily and had been stressed while pregnant that maybe that was why she was diabetic. She was only five when she was diagnosed. But they reassured me this wasn’t something I caused.”

  “But you still didn’t believe them,” he stated, not questioned.

  I smiled. “You know me too well. It took a while. I still have guilt sometimes but not nearly as much as I used to.”

  “Good. From what I’ve read on type 1 diabetes, there was nothing you could or couldn’t have done to prevent it.”

  It was my turn to pause and look at him. “You’ve been reading about Monique’s illness?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”


  My shoulders slumped a little as I took in what he’d said. A lump formed in my throat and I had to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. It was one thing to know that Damon cared for me. In my past life, before Monique, that would’ve been enough. But to know he took the time to learn what he could about my daughter’s illness …

  Just as I opened my mouth to tell him again that I’d fallen head over heels in love with him, a female voice sounded behind him.

  When Damon stepped to the side to reveal the couple standing behind him, all of the air left my body.

  “Angie,” Damon greeted, apparently knowing the woman.

  “Damon, this is my date, Randy Jameson.”

  I nearly cried out as I watched Damon’s hand extend and Randy took it, shaking it.

  “This is my girlfriend, Sandra,” he stated, moving his hand around the small of my back.

  “I-I, pleasure,” I said to the tall woman who stood next to Randy.

  Reluctantly, my eyes moved to Randy’s and I hoped to hell he wouldn’t let on that we knew each other. I couldn’t bear that right now.

  “Sandra.” He nodded, extending his hand. “How are you?” he had the nerve to inquire with his hand out.

  I felt Damon look down at me, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. “You two know each other?”

  I couldn’t reply but Randy did.

  “Yes. I’m an attorney at Wittaker & Wittaker. Sandra works for opposing counsel on a case I’m lead on.”

  I cleared my throat. “Y-yes. The diner case I told you about,” I added, trying to sound as normal as possible.

  “Well, Angie said she knew you from some work you’d done together, and she wanted to introduce us.”

  I silently watched as it was explained that Angie was a real estate agent who’d worked with Damon on a couple of projects before.

  “I don’t do individual properties anymore,” Damon explained. “However, I have just purchased the building on Lakefront. We’re looking to turn that into loft-style condos. They’ll be ready in about a year and a half to two years, so if you’re still looking then, let me know.” Damon pulled out a business card. He paused when I began coughing, choking on nothing but air.

  “You all right?” he questioned, concerned.

  I nodded, sucking in air. “I need to go to the restroom. Excuse me,” I lied and darted off before I even finished my statement. I hightailed it through the expansive space of the museum’s entranceway, that was being used for the fundraiser, pushing through people in pretty dresses and tuxedos until I arrived at the hallway that led to the women’s room. Glad to see there was no line, I pushed through the heavy, wooden door, and locating the first empty stall I could, I burst inside.

  Thankfully, the stall itself was large enough that it contained a sink and I moved to it, grabbing a paper towel and dampening it with warm water. I patted my forehead, neck, and cheeks with the wet towel, hoping that would help bring me back to myself. I tried to steady my breathing and I cursed myself for having this reaction every time I saw him. But it wasn’t just seeing him that had brought this on. It was seeing him so close that he actually shook hands with Damon. He chatted him up, talking about apartments. The thought of Randy living in one of Damon’s buildings sickened me.

  But I needed to pull it together. I couldn’t cower in a bathroom all night, and I needed to prove to myself that Randy Jameson no longer had that kind of power over me. The sick bastard that I knew he was.

  After tossing the used paper towel in the trash, I opened my clutch and reapplied my pressed powder to smooth over my makeup. Even though I didn’t need it, I recoated my lipstick for good measure. With my hand to my stomach, I inhaled and prepared to go back out there. I came up with the excuse that I had an upset stomach to tell Damon but that I was fine.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t even have time to properly construct the lie in my head, because as soon as I pulled open the door to the women’s room, there stood Randy Jameson. I inched backwards, backing myself farther down the hall simply because I didn’t want to be within ten feet of him. I looked up at his face to find him glaring down on me as if I’d stolen something from him.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, trying to sound intimidating. I tried to remember all of the self-defense moves I’d learned over the years, but my mind was drawing a blank. I might be capable of taking down a stranger in a nightclub, but staring at my real life monster under the bed was a different story entirely.

  “Your daughter …”

  My eyes widened. “She’s none of your—”

  “How old is she?” he demanded through clenched teeth, stepping closer.

  “I will never tell you anything about her.”

  “I bet you fucking will. Is she mine?”

  “Get the hell away from me,” I warned.

  “I wo—” Randy’s response was cut off from behind when a large hand cupped the back of his neck, pulling him backwards.

  “She fucking told you to get the hell away from her, right?” Damon growled, pulling Randy away from me, and moving so he was in between us.

  “I was just asking her a question.”

  “No fucking reason to be asking her a question when I’m not around.”

  Randy attempted to look at me over Damon’s shoulder, which was a stupid move on his part because before I knew what was happening, Damon had his left elbow in Randy’s throat, pinning him against the wall.

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time. I said there’s no reason you ever need to confront my woman.”

  “Damon,” a male voice shouted.

  I groaned inwardly when I looked over and saw Joshua Townsend rushing toward Damon and Randy. I felt even more terrible when a heavily, nine-months-pregnant Kayla rushed over as well.

  Joshua separated Damon and Randy.

  “Are you okay?” Kayla asked me, staring in worry.

  I nodded. “I’m fine. I’m so sorry.”

  “Was he—”

  “No,” I shook my head, not even wanting to hear what she was going to ask with that question.

  “I don’t know what the hell you did to get him that upset, and I don’t give a shit either.” Joshua stared at Randy. “But you need to go. We’ll give you back your check,” Joshua swiftly cut off any protestations from Randy and had security escorting him out. He and Damon exchanged a few words before Joshua wrapped his arm around Kayla’s waist and left, leaving Damon and I alone in the hallway.

  I took a chance and glanced up at him. I wanted to avert my eyes, but I was tired of being a coward.

  “Let’s go,” was all he said.

  Within seconds, his hand was at my back as we made our way through the crowd once again, only this time there was no mingling. No stopping to talk to any of the who’s who of Williamsport. We exited through the same way we entered, and a half a minute later our town car was pulling up. Damon waved the driver off and held the door open for me to enter before entering and shutting the door himself. He hadn’t said a word to me.

  My eyes went to the partition as it was rolled up.

  “That motherfucker is Monique’s father?” His question broke the tense silence that had surrounded us in the car.

  I looked away, unable to answer his question.

  “So now you don’t hear me?”

  I tightened my fists in my lap, feeling all sorts of emotions. Pissed at Randy, not only for tonight but for the way his actions had disrupted my entire life. Pissed at myself for being so naïve back then and so cowardly now. And ashamed at the idea of having to open my mouth and actually give Damon an answer.

  “Sandra, is that motherfucker Monique’s fath—”

  “I don’t know!” I blurted out, finally turning to look at him. “I don’t know who Monique’s father is!” I shouted.

  Chapter Twenty

  Damon

  I blinked, feeling like I’d just been knocked the hell over, and not in a good way. Sandra had moved as far away from me in the back of the town
car as she could after yelling out her response to my question. I was too stunned and angered to even respond. I didn’t say anything else until the car stopped moving and the driver got out to hold the door open.

  It wasn’t until that moment, that I realized he had brought us back to Sandra’s place instead of mine. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have in the vicinity of her family, but we were there now. Monique was likely asleep anyway and I was much too anxious to get some answers than to wait until he drove all of the way across town to the building where I lived.

  I held out my hand for Sandra to help her out of the car, but she refused it, helping herself out instead. I didn’t have time to give the driver instructions before Sandra was rushing into her building. I caught up quickly.

  “Where the hell are you going?” I asked like a damn fool, as if I couldn’t figure it out.

  “Home,” she responded, tersely. “You have your answer, okay?”

  “The hell I do.” I took her by the arm, cupping it, but not tightly. Thankfully, she didn’t pull away. I reached for the key she held, and used it to unlock her apartment door, once we arrived in front of it.

  I moved inside with her arm still in my grasp. Her grandmother, who by the looks of it, had been laying on the couch, reading, stood. However, her smile dropped when she caught the expressions on either one of our faces.

  “We need to talk privately,” I told her without waiting for an answer. I moved down the hallway, behind Sandra.

  She entered her bedroom and I closed the door behind us.

  “Explain.” That was what I needed, explanations. Because none of this shit made any sense. Sandra wasn’t the type of person to not know who the hell the father of her child was. I could surmise that about her from the first moment we met. And I didn’t not believe what she’d blurted out in the back of the town car, so something wasn’t adding up.