Earl was at work right now, so Lincoln would give him a call later. A load of guilty weight would be lifted from Earl’s shoulders when he found out the good news about his friend, Crowbar.
And Lincoln was somewhat relieved to know that the man that Chevonne had been cheating with, wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.
Being nosey, Lincoln checked around the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections Inmate Locator website to find out if Raheem had been sprung from jail. He keyed in Raheem’s name and…voilà! More good news; Raheem was still locked up. That dude must have had several open warrants to be locked up for this long over an unregistered gun. It served him right!
Lincoln caught a glimpse of Frank and Amber walking past his office, and was reminded that he had to deal with the current issue of reviving his career. No doubt about it, he had to take the plunge and strike out on his own.
Lincoln arrived at the bank fifteen minutes early. As he took a seat on one of the leather benches, a bank representative approached him. “May I help you?”
“I have an appointment with Mr. Wilkes.”
“He’s with a client.”
“That’s okay; I’m early.” Lincoln smiled politely. The rep went back to her desk and Lincoln busied himself, scrolling through his digital contact list. There were so many things to do to get a business started. He was confident that he’d qualify for a business loan. His student loans were paid off; he had an expensive house for collateral. And despite his financial suffering—being already deep in debt, he had maintained A-1 credit.
He was fiddling with his mobile device, but something caught his attention. He looked up, and he saw a stunning woman. She looked oddly familiar. She shook hands with a bank rep and then gathered her handbag, and began walking in his direction. She wore a curve-fitting business suit, a strand of pearls, and sexy heels. Her stride was confident as she approached, smiling as if she knew him.
It wasn’t until she was directly in front of him, that Lincoln recognized her.
“Fancy meeting you here,” the woman said, extending her hand. “Lincoln, right—the honest architect?”
“Ooh, Solay…from the cupcake place!” He shook her hand, looking her over from head to toe with a roving glance. “Wow, you look spectacular. I’ve only seen you in the shop…in the uniform, and my brain couldn’t make the connection.”
“I don’t know how to take that. Are you saying I look a hot mess at the shop?”
“No, not at all. You look real cute in that apron. But this is different. It’s like…Wow! The clothes…even your hair is different.”
“Thank you for the compliment. You look extra spiffy yourself,” she said, indicating his suit, tie, and briefcase.
He laughed self-consciously. “Yeah, I’m trying to make a good impression.”
“I’m impressed.” She looked him over, and the gleam in her eyes was somewhat flirtatious.
“How’s business?” he inquired, getting serious and trying to ignore his sudden attraction.
“It’s going great. But it’s time to expand, so I’m taking the plunge and going into more debt,” she said with a sigh and a shrug. “Oh, I have a new cupcake on the menu. I know that you don’t like sweet things,” she said with a little laugh. “But I have something new and I guarantee that you’re going to love it.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s it called? Oh, wait a minute…let me prepare myself for a scandalous name.”
“The new addition is called The Ho Cake,” she said, laughing.
Lincoln chuckled in amusement. “Nothing subtle about that.”
“You should stop by and try it.”
“Maybe I will.”
“I’m open until seven.”
“I’ll be there at six.” Okay, we’re definitely flirting. But it’s harmless. Just having fun.
He watched the slight sway of her hips as she walked toward the exit sign. Pretty woman with nice legs and a cute little round ass. Sweet disposition. But being such a go-getter, she probably had a fiery side, too.
“Mr. Jennings?” a male voice broke into Lincoln’s thoughts.
Lincoln stood and shook the loan officer’s hand.
CHAPTER 47
He arrived at Scandalicious at six o’clock sharp. There was a big after-work crowd, but Solay spotted him the moment he walked through the door. Well, it wasn’t hard to miss him; she’d been watching the door.
She waved and pointed to an empty seat in the rear. Lincoln was there by her personal invitation and he didn’t have to wait in line for his ho cake.
“Hold down the fort, Vidal. I’m taking a little break.”
“You’re doing what?” Vidal whipped his head back and forth. “Do you see this long line of pests?”
“You can deal with the after-work rush crowd for a few minutes,” she said and pushed open the kitchen doors. She could have given Lincoln a savory cupcake from the bakery case, but she wanted him to taste one that was hot and fresh out of the oven.
She set the red paper plate in front of Lincoln. The Hoecake was large…the size of a muffin. She placed a napkin, plastic knife, and fork beside the plate.
“Looks good; smells good,” Lincoln said with admiration.
“And it tastes even better,” she said in a slightly seductive voice.
Why am I flirting so hard with this ring-wearing married man? Because I’m lonely, horny, and a married man has responsibilities at home…he won’t complicate my life, she responded.
Solay was back where she’d started when she’d first called the Rent-A-Man agency—looking for sex without any emotional entanglements. She hadn’t given up on her and Deon, but she refused to live every day of her life, waiting for a phone call or a text. They’d tried Skyping, but that hadn’t worked out too well. They’d agree to a time to Skype, and Solay would get dolled up and sexy…only to be staring at her blank computer screen…stood up because the film schedule had run later than Deon had anticipated.
Deon was always distracted whenever they did have a phone conversation. Their long distance romance was dying a slow death, and Solay had no choice but to accept it and move on. Maybe they’d get another chance when Deon finished filming…in the meantime, she had to live her life.
Solay liked Lincoln. He wasn’t hot like Deon…no one was, but he had a level of maturity and a chivalrous spirit. It was so sweet, the way he’d gone out of his way to repay the money for those cupcakes that he’d said his coworker had swindled.
“Mmm. This is awesome.” Lincoln frowned and shook his head at the scrumptious flavor. He cut into the Hoecake and forked up another big chunk. “Does this have meat in it?”
“Uh-huh. Chunks of slab bacon.”
“What else is in it? Damn, this is hitting the spot.”
“Cornmeal and bacon are the two main ingredients. But I added extra seasonings and spices, but I can’t tell you what they are.”
“Why not?”
“Because…they’re my sexy little secret.”
Lincoln made eye contact with Solay. Her eyes sparkled with desire.
The bell jingled, announcing another stream of customers.
“I have to get back to work.”
“Definitely, didn’t mean to keep you. Go handle your business.”
“I want to extend a more personal invitation…”
“Oh, yeah? An invitation to what?”
“An erotic invitation…a sensual adventure…blissful sex…no emotional complications,” Solay said boldly.
Lincoln thought about the fuck-free card he’d gotten from Chevonne at the therapist’s urging. “When and where?” he asked without hesitation.
“I have a place upstairs, and if you’re interested, I’d like to see you tomorrow night, around eight?” she suggested.
“Sounds good; okay.” Lincoln nervously moistened his lips.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
On the way home, thoughts of Solay’s invitation had his dick as hard as iron, making a tent in his pants that was
a hella distraction while he was driving.
He wondered how Chevonne would react when he told her that he was finally going to take the therapist’s advice and get some pussy on the side. As appalled as he’d been at the therapist’s suggestion, Chevonne would want to know what changed his mind, and he’d be honest. Solay was an attractive woman who’d made him a “sex with no-strings attached” offer.
Tomorrow night was a long time to wait; he needed to do something about this boner as soon as he got home.
He threw his keys in a basket on the kitchen counter, paced across the marble floor, and bounded the stairs. He checked on the kids. Amir was in his room doing homework on his computer. Tori was in her room playing with dolls.
And Mommy was where he wanted her to be…in their bedroom. “Hey, baby,” Lincoln called as he opened the bedroom door.
“Hi, Lincoln; what took you so long? You know it’s gym night.” Chevonne’s back was to him, and she was wearing workout gear.
“I forgot,” he murmured, feeling letdown and horny. There was something else. He wanted to tell her about his plan to start his own firm. But that could wait until later tonight.
He also wanted to have an open and honest discussion about his sexual attraction toward Solay, and his decision to act on his feelings—get it out of his system.
He sat on the bed, watching Chevonne stuff her gym bag with a towel, a change of clothes, bath gel, and other toiletries.
Rushing, Chevonne zipped up the bag. “Can you make sure that Amir and Tori both take a shower before bed? I think Amir needs to start wearing deodorant. That boy has developed a musky, teenage odor and he’s only six.” She kissed Lincoln on the forehead, then left the room and disappeared down the hall.
With extra time on his hand, Lincoln checked out office space online. He ran a troubled hand down the side of his face. Whew! Renting space in downtown Philadelphia was through the roof. With a disgusted grunt, he shut down the laptop, deciding to focus on more pleasurable thoughts.
His mind wanted to conjure up an image of Solay in that sexy black suit, but thoughts of her would lead to jerking off in the shower. Then he remembered Crowbar!
He called his brother. “You not gon’ believe this. Guess who turned up!”
“Crowbar?” Earl said, his voice hushed.
“Alive and well. That dude was out on a long drug-binge.”
“Yo, that’s whassup!” Earl yelled in delight. “You got a number for him? You know I lost all my numbers when I lost my phone.”
“No, but why don’t you call Michelle and get that information. She really wants to hear from you. She wants you to tell her why you left her.”
“I’m not doing all that. Why can’t you call her and get the info?”
“Because…you need to deal with that situation like a grown man. How would you like it if Ivella bounced on you with no explanation?”
“I’d be out there looking for her; she’d have to tell me something!”
“So how do you think Michelle feels? Man, stop tryna dodge shit. Act like a grown man, and call that woman. Be honest with her—tell her why you left her.”
“I left her because I thought it was hot in Philly; I had to get out of town.”
“Do the right thing, Earl. Call her and let her know that you’re sorry that things didn’t work out. She deserves some kind of explanation.”
“Aye, man. Goddamn. Always preaching. Why you gotta come at me like that? Talking to me like I’m a child,” Earl grumbled.
“Then act like a man.”
“Yeah, aye. Whatever. Get on my nerves, fuckin’ with my high.”
Lincoln chuckled as he hung up the phone.
“Tori and Amir! It’s bedtime,” he shouted in the thundering voice that made his children react more promptly than usual. Five minutes later, he poked his head inside Amir’s room. Amir was slipping his legs into a pair of pajamas.
“Are you allergic to water? Hit the shower, little man.”
“I’m tired,” Amir complained, dragging his feet toward his private bathroom.
Lincoln went into Tori’s bathroom. He turned on the faucets and poured in bubble bath. Unlike her brother, Tori was thrilled about bath time. Carrying an armful of dolls, she jumped in the tub with a big splash.
Lincoln took a moment to count his blessings. Two healthy kids and a beautiful wife who was successful in her field. What had he been thinking when he accepted Solay’s invitation? Chevonne and the kids meant the world to him.
Revenge sex wasn’t worth upsetting the balance of his happy home.
Close to the time that he expected Chevonne to be back from the gym, Lincoln poured himself a glass of brandy, something he occasionally drank to unwind at the end of the day.
Perhaps it was all the excitement of the day…or maybe it was the brandy that caused Lincoln to doze off while watching TV and bored with the latest cheating politician story that was being covered by every news channel.
Lincoln didn’t realize that Chevonne had come home until the sound of her soft laughter lured him out of a dream. She was in the bathroom, talking on her cell phone.
“You should cut out spicy food altogether. I’m sure that’s what’s been upsetting your stomach.” A long pause. “You’re too young to have an ulcer.” She laughed again. There was something different about her laughter. She sounded happy and girlish—practically giggling.
“So you’re going to keep coating your stomach with milk? Who told you to do that? Your grandmother…well, that figures. That old home remedy isn’t proper treatment.”
Before drifting back to sleep, Lincoln wondered which of her girlfriends Chevonne was talking to.
CHAPTER 48
Mornings were complete chaos inside the Jennings household. Cartoons blared from the TV in the kitchen, Tori and Amir fought at the breakfast table, and complained about the lunches their mother had packed for them. Adding to the bedlam, Chevonne tended to yell out the current time every five minutes. “We’re running late; let’s get a move-on!”
Lincoln’s workday started two hours later than Chevonne’s and so he normally stayed away from the pandemonium. Preferring to start his day on a peaceful note, he hardly ever ventured downstairs until he heard Chevonne starting up her car.
Once Chevonne and the kids were gone, Lincoln came down for coffee. He turned those damned cartoons to HLN, creating a much calmer environment.
It wasn’t unusual for a lunch bag, backpack, or a sweater to have gotten left behind during the fray. Today, it was Chevonne’s cell.
There it was—her city-issued BlackBerry in plain sight on the white marble island. Tempting him. Beckoning him.
The honorable thing to do was to call and leave a voicemail at her work, letting her know that she’d left the BlackBerry at home, but Lincoln was drawn to the phone as if being pulled by a magnet.
Chevonne’s phone felt hot in his hands as he powered it on. He checked recent calls and saw that she’d gotten a call at 10:17 last night.
Next, he checked her texts.
Like someone had pulled a rug out from under him, Lincoln sagged. Annihilated by the words he read, Lincoln was nearly rocked off of his feet. Palms pressed firmly against the kitchen counter, he steadied himself and took a seat.
We on 2nite?
Can’t. 2 nights in a row is risky.
I’ll make it worth the risk. lls.
I want to, but I really can’t.
Ok. When?
Next gym night
Ard. But no panties, no thongs. Leave dem shits off. Bring my pussy to me raw.
I will.
He leapt to his feet. Kicked a stool over. Muttering obscenities, he paced around the kitchen. The vile…vulgar…disgusting sext messages had taken place a mere half-hour ago, while Chevonne was in the kitchen—supposedly parenting their kids.
That bitch! That dirty…cheating…fuckin’ bitch, pulling this same bullshit again! Grim-faced, Lincoln stalked upstairs, grabbed his laptop, and powered
it on. Two minutes later, a visit to the inmate information site enflamed Lincoln further.
The gun-toting, pyromaniac mechanic had been released last night at six.
It all came rushing back to him. Chevonne whispering and giggling on the phone last night. She was talking with concern and sweetness in her voice, and now Lincoln realized she’d been talking to that fuckin’ Raheem.
Lincoln read the text exchanges so many times, the words were imprinted in his mind. His first thought was to storm into Chevonne’s office. Holding the incriminating BlackBerry in his hand, he’d expose her in front of her staff as the dirty, skank hoe that she was. But that idea brought only a small measure of satisfaction.
The only way to feel better was to go upside a disrespectful nigga’s head. Remembering that Amir’s baseball bat was still in the trunk of his car, Lincoln dressed quickly. Murderously angry, he threw on a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and a jacket—didn’t bother to shower or shave.
It took being outside and breathing in the chilly autumn breeze to bring him to his senses.
Calm resolve replaced fury. Two can play the same game, he decided.
He went back inside. In the kitchen, he picked up the stool that he’d knocked over, and then returned Chevonne’s BlackBerry exactly where he’d found it.
He climbed the stairs purposefully. After showering and shaving, Lincoln dressed for work.
Solay finished mopping the floor and checked the clock. Shit! Vidal had done a shoddy clean-up job and Solay could not turn out the lights out in the kitchen unless it was sparkling clean. Lincoln would be here in five minutes, and she’d never gotten a chance to change out of her work clothes.
She dashed out of the kitchen and went into the dining area. In the rear, she stood before the full-length dressing mirror, examining herself. She looked tired and frumpy. How could she slip into seductress mode, looking like this?
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