Under My Rules

by Rhonda Bowen

  “Am I going to need a restraining order?”

  His eyebrow lifted but the mischief never left his eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “Why are you here, Khai?”

  He slipped his hands into his pockets. “For work, of course.”

  “Really.” Portia narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t see you for six months and then it’s twice in less than twenty-four hours? Kinda feels like I’m being followed.”

  He leaned forward. His voiced dropped low enough to send tingles up her spine. “Listen, PJ. I don’t know what kind of fantasies you have running through your head, but I am here strictly for business.”

  Right. And she was the Miss Universe runner-up. Solid had concluded their business with Khai months ago. If he was here for something new, she would have heard about it. Which meant Khai was up to something. She just didn’t know what.

  “If you’re gonna stalk me, can you not involve my brother and my company? This is a really important time for us.”

  He smiled. “I’m not stalking you, but you might want to look into your neighbor Carl. That wall in your bedroom closet? I think it has a view.”

  Portia gasped “Eww! Creepy Carl is spying on me? I knew it!”

  Khai nodded. “Yeah, you should probably get that dealt with.”

  She shuddered. Her weird neighbor had always made her skin crawl. He was home all the time and never had visitors. Whenever Portia was in the backyard, she was convinced he stared at her over the fence. She should have known the shared wall separating her house and his was also a problem.

  Khai stepped closer, well within her circle of personal space. “So, have I earned enough goodwill for a do over?”

  She let her eyes roam over the man standing in front of her, appreciating the view for a moment. He was taller than her, lean and wiry, but with just enough muscle roping his upper body to keep a girl looking. Even beneath today’s outfit of leather jacket over jeans and a graphic tee, she could tell. Especially since the t-shirt was so well worn it was almost threadbare. He was hot, and not just for a white guy. Which was probably why he had walked his fine self into her dreams more than a couple times since she’d met him. But Khai was a problem that she couldn’t take on right now. He was the kind of guy that could mess up a girl’s schedule, and ain’t nobody got time for that.

  She shook her head. “Khai, you don’t want to date me. You’re just bored. I wouldn’t even have heard from you if we hadn’t run into each other in the supermarket.”

  Khai looked at her for a long moment. “Sweetheart, I bury and find information for a living. Do you really think I accidentally ran into you in the supermarket?”

  Portia pursed her lips.

  He reached up and fingered a strand of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. “You shop at that supermarket every Wednesday. You show up at around 2:35, park two spaces away from the entrance and leave around 4am. You and Bob are on a first name basis and he’s the only cashier you go to. You usually go straight home after but sometimes you stop at the gym for a quick workout which makes me wonder when you ever sleep.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You are stalking me.”

  He shook his head. “Not stalking. Just looking out for the people I care about.”

  Okay.

  He’d gotten her. She had absolutely no response.

  None.

  “Come on, Portia.” The usual confidence that lived in his eyes flickered momentarily. “One date. One do-over.”

  Her chest tightened. Her resolve weakened. He always did this. No matter how much she prepared for him, he always found a way to creep under her determination to resist him. But she wouldn’t back down this time.

  She stepped back. “You just creeped me out and failed to prove that I shouldn’t report you to the cops. Besides, you don’t even tick the boxes on the list.”

  He opened his mouth. “The list?”

  Portia stepped around him and headed to her office. She could feel his eyes follow her down the hall.

  “List? What list?”

  She chuckled to herself and kept walking. “Bye, Creepy Khai.”

  Chapter 3

  “Triple Crown, Derek? Really?”

  Portia laid out the plates and silverware on the dining table.

  “Have you been sneaking a look at my calendar again?” Derek placed a glass at each of the three settings. “Does privacy mean nothing to you?”

  “I wouldn’t have to sneak if you would share what is going on,” Portia folded her arms and scowled at her brother across the table. “You do know that I own the same percentage of Solid as you do, right?”

  “What happened to all that talk about letting me take the lead?” Derek headed back to the kitchen.

  “I was okay with it until you invited Terrence Howard and the Empire crew into our business,” Portia trailed behind him.

  “Oh no, the both of you are not coming into my kitchen with all that arguing,” Yvonne Wynters placed a hand on each of their shoulders and turned them back towards the exit.

  “But, Mom...” Portia whined.

  “She started it,” Derek retorted.

  “Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you both are three years old instead of thirty-two,” Yvonne said dropping her hands to her hips. “How you managed to run a business together for five plus years is beyond me.”

  Portia huffed. “Believe me, there are days I am just as shocked.”

  Derek leaned over and kissed both women on the cheek. “It’s because I’m so good at what I do.”

  “Ugh.” Portia wiped the side of her face off with the back of her hand as their mother shook her head and smiled.

  “Go get the rest of the food off the stove,” Yvonne pulled off her oven mitts. “And once it hits the table, that’s it. No more work talk until after dinner.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Portia and Derek said at the same time.

  As soon as their mother’s back was turned Derek stuck his finger in Portia’s ear. She shrieked and whacked him with the oven mitt in response.

  “Don’t make me get my wooden spoon for the two of you!”

  Portia and Derek looked at each other then dissolved into laughter before grabbing the two remaining dishes off the stove. There was something about being home in their mother’s house that made them descend to grade school level. But Portia didn’t mind it. It was nice to be silly like this with her brother. It rarely happened anymore.

  Derek nudged her as they walked back to the dining room. “Listen, just so you don’t start panicking, James is thinking of being an investor...”

  Portia snorted. “Yes, I am sure having Triple Crown at our shareholder meetings will go over well with our other ultra conservative investors.”

  “A silent investor.” Derek assured. “Trust me, Morgan had the same concerns as you. But James is just looking for somewhere to park some money.”

  Portia put her dish on the table. “Hopefully, not money with traces of white powder all over it.”

  Derek opened his mouth to respond but the look their mother gave them shut it down.

  Yvonne Wynters was already seated at the table, a four seater made from rich cherry wood that their mother had found at an antique sale. It was nothing like the ten seater heavy oak dining table that sat in the grand dining room they had grown up with as kids. But then nothing was like it had been when they were kids. When their parents split up, everything changed. Their mother was awarded the huge six-bedroom house in the settlement, but it seemed like a mausoleum of bad memories. She sold it and downsized to a comfy three bedroom that was more suited to the coffee shop owner she was now than the NFL wife she used to be several years earlier.

  Portia preferred what they had now. Sure it was smaller. You could see the living and dining room and almost the whole first floor from the front door, but it was homier. With all its windows and light colored walls, it seemed brighter and warmer than their previous home. But that may have also been because it was devoid of the shadows of thei
r father’s life. Who really knew?

  “Where is Morgan?” Portia asked after they had blessed the food and passed the serving dishes around. “I didn’t know there was a surgery that could successfully separate you two.”

  Derek smirked at her. “Jealousy is not a good look for you, Portia.”

  “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised myself not to see her,” Yvonne glanced at her son. “Sometimes I think if you could fit into that woman’s purse you would let her carry you around all day.”

  Portia almost choked on her potatoes laughing.

  “Mom!”

  “Oh don’t get so bent out of shape,” Yvonne pinched her son’s red tinged cheeks. “I think it’s cute. And I definitely prefer her to the last one.”

  Portia shuddered as she thought of her brother’s previous girlfriend before Morgan. “I think we all do.”

  “She actually wanted to come,” Derek said. “But she has to do a presentation for work with a retailer that is looking to buy some of her make-up products.”

  “Sounds like her cosmetics business is taking off,” Yvonne cut into her steak. “You must be really proud of her.”

  Derek beamed. “I am. I can’t believe I was lucky enough to find someone so amazing.”

  “No luck there,” Portia pushed half her potatoes to the side. “That was definitely all God. Ain’t no other reason you managed to snag a woman like Morgan. Definitely playing out of your league there, chump.”

  She expected to get a smart response back from her brother. When she didn’t, she looked up and found her mother and brother watching her. They had both stopped eating.

  “What?”

  Her mother’s eyes fell to her plate.

  “I took too much mashed potato.” Portia explained. But she caught the look that passed between her mother and brother.

  “I am eating!” she protested.

  “Okay.” Derek nodded. But he didn’t pick up his fork. Neither did her mother.

  “I had breakfast. And lunch. And a snack.” Portia’s eyes darted between both of them. She didn’t like what she saw. She pushed back from the table and walked over to get her purse.

  Her mother’s voice followed her. “Honey, please don’t leave.”

  Portia dug through her purse until she found her cell phone. She dialed a number as she walked back to the table.

  “Hey, P. What’s up?”

  Portia put her cellphone on speaker mode and placed it on the table. “Milo, can you please tell my brother and mother what I had for lunch?”

  “Oh, uh… Hey, Derek. Hey, Miss Wynters. She did eat today, a lot actually. We went to that Chinese place down the block and she had the lemon chicken with fried rice. We finished everything. And you know how much they serve.”

  “Okay thanks, Milo,” Derek said. “Sorry to bother you.”

  “No bother,” Milo said. “Talk to you later, babe.”

  Portia ended the call and folded her arms. “Satisfied?”

  Derek picked up his fork. “I am.”

  Yvonne gave Portia an apologetic look. “We just want to make sure you’re okay, honey. That’s all.”

  Portia frowned. “You know I actually would like to walk out right now, but me skipping dinner would probably lead to more of this harassment so I guess I have no choice but to stay.”

  She fell back into her chair and picked up her fork. She could feel her mother’s eyes on her but refused to meet her gaze.

  She understood where her mother was coming from. When you had a daughter who had been hospitalized with an eating disorder you did everything to make sure she never ended up on that dark path again. But what Portia’s mother couldn’t have known was that no one was more committed to ensuring that didn’t happen than Portia. Anorexia had taken her to hell and back and she would do everything to make sure she never ended up a friend of Ana again.

  “So how’s things going at Brown Sugar?” Derek reached for his second serving of steamed veggies. “You put out your Christmas menu yet?”

  “Boy, please. Thanksgiving hasn’t even come yet,” Yvonne broke off a piece of her roll. “But my cranberry muffins are flying off the shelf. Portia, you should bring in some of your pumpkin spice muffins. The ones with the nuts? People always love those.”

  Portia stuck a piece of steak on her fork. “Maybe.”

  “You know which ones I love? The banana nut,” Derek nodded. “I know they’re not really Thanksgiving, but I’m thinking of getting some for the office breakfast. I know the guys in accounts love them too.”

  Portia let the conversation swirl around her without joining in. She knew she was sulking, but she couldn’t help it. Her mind kept going back to the earlier incident. Her own family didn’t even believe her when she told them she had eaten. They still saw her as she was. The woman who used to lie about food; lie about her eating habits and exercise. The woman so obsessed with controlling her weight and counting calories that see saw eating as torture. Didn’t they know she wasn’t like that anymore?

  She pierced another piece of meat with her fork and paused.

  Or was she?

  Maybe they saw what she couldn’t. Maybe they saw extra weight on her that she had missed. Maybe they weren’t alarmed that she was eating, but that she had eaten so much.

  She looked at her plate.

  It had been full when she started and now it was half gone. How many calories were in the butter her mother used to mash the potatoes? And in the gravy? Was there butter on the vegetables too? Her heart pounded in her ears. What if –

  No!

  She was healthy. This was a healthy meal with good proportions. She deserved to eat. Her body needed the nutrients to survive from day to day. Just because she ate a full plate didn’t mean she was going to become as big as a house. One supper on one day. One meal at a time.

  She took a deep breath.

  Portia, you’re fine. You are in control of your habits and your life.

  She closed her eyes and put the fork in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. When she opened her eyes, it felt like she had stepped back into the room after being gone for ten minutes.

  “...it’s like they’re in there all the time,” Yvonne said with a laugh. “Do you tell your employees you’ll fire them if they don’t come to my shop?”

  Portia smiled. “No. They just love it, Mom. Trust me. They’re there because they want to be.”

  After dinner, Derek disappeared like he always did. Portia helped her mother clear the dishes and stack them in the dishwasher.

  “Honey, I don’t want to bring it up again, but I just want to tell you that I know you’re recovered. I don’t doubt it.”

  Portia took the plate her mother handed to her. “I know.”

  “I just...” Yvonne blinked rapidly and Portia caught the wetness in her mother’s eyes.

  “I know,” Portia frowned. “None of us want to go back there. Most of all, me.”

  Her mother was about to say something more when the chirping of a phone interrupted them. Portia glanced back.

  “Mom, I think that’s yours.”

  “Oh, is it?” Yvonne glanced back at the counter where the lit cellphone continued to ring. “Let it go to voice mail.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” She went back to washing dishes. “I barely get to spend time with you like this. Whoever it is can wait. And speaking of whoever, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  The phone stopped ringing making the silence in the kitchen more pronounced.

  Portia looked over at her mother. “What is it?”

  She watched her mother’s jaw tense slightly before she took a deep breath. Before her mother could utter a word, the phone rang again. Both women turned to look at it.

  “Clearly someone really wants to talk to you,” Portia tilted her head towards the counter. “You should just get it.”

  “It’s probably nothing serious. It can wait...”

  But Portia had already d
ried her hands and walked over to the phone. She reached to pick it up and froze. Her hand hovered in the air as she saw the name on the screen.

  Douglas Wynters.

  Portia only knew one Douglas Wynters. Her chest tightened.

  “Why is he calling you?”

  She heard her mother sigh just before the water stopped running. Yvonne walked over to the counter and swiped the red button to reject the call.

  “Portia...”

  “Just answer the question, Mom.” Portia turned and found herself staring into her mother’s weary eyes. “Why is he calling you?”

  “That is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Portia could feel her heart beat faster. Her breath became more shallow as her chest filled with emotion.

  She saw the nodes in her mother’s neck move as she swallowed. “He…she wants to meet you.”

  Portia blinked several times before asking the question to which she already knew the answer.

  “She who?”

  “Your sister.”

  “I don’t have a sister.”

  “Portia...”

  “You are my mother. You have two children, me and Derek. He is my brother. You both are my family. Whatever that man has done since he walked away from us has nothing to do with me. You can tell him that.”

  Yvonne reached out to touch her daughter’s arm. Portia stepped out of reach.

  “How can you even talk to him?” She narrowed her eyes at her mother. “Why do you still have his number in your phone?”

  “Because regardless of what has happened, he is still the father of my children,” Yvonne raised her hands before letting them drop to her thighs. “Ten years, a hundred years, will not change that.”

  “He left us. And then went and made another family,” Portia spat.

  “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  Yvonne shot Portia a look that reminded her who she was talking to. “He has made a lot of mistakes. But his daughter, the one who wants to meet you, didn’t have anything to do with that. I am not asking you to say yes, right now. I am just asking you to think about it. Think about her.”