Leigh’s eyes misted as she shook her head. “You’re only saying that because…” She struggled to swallow the boulder lodged in her throat. “Because…” She turned and hopped up out of her seat. “I can’t do this right now,” she croaked. “Do me a favor and just go to hell,” she said, and raced out of the café.
Two seconds later, her mother bolted out of the ladies’ room after her.
Jeremy watched them race out with his throat tightening and a growing pain inside his chest. “I’ve really screwed this up.”
Rolling in the Deep
Chapter 25
“Frankly,” Quentin said, in an utterly sincere voice, “I thought it was a wrap for my boy. I mean, I ought to know. There are some things that there’s just no coming back from.”
Julianne Turner frowned as she cupped her chin and studied him. “You don’t believe in forgiveness?”
“Well, there’s forgiving and there’s forgetting. In my opinion, a lot of people get the two mixed up. Most of the time when people ask you to forgive them, they are really asking you to forget. Nobody forgets. It’s impossible except, I guess, when you’re dealing with someone with memory issues. Other than that…” He shook his head. “It’s not happening. And if you’re unable to forget, you’ll never truly forgive. It’s all just lip service.”
“You have an interesting belief system, Quentin. You claim not to believe in love—“
“Uh-uh-uh…” Q sat up and shook his head. “I said that I didn’t understand love. I believe in it. After all, my parents are in love—or at least their version of it. I was in love with Alyssa—”
“Was?” Dr. Turner perked up. “You don’t believe that you are anymore?”
Quentin blinked, but as he considered the question for a full minute, the truth tumbled out. “No.” Once the simple answer fell from his mouth, he would’ve bet everything he owned that a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders.
“This is good,” Dr. Turner said, bobbing her head. “I think that we may be getting somewhere here.”
“Huh.” Quentin remained silent as this revelation washed over him.
“How do you feel about it?”
After another minute to run that question through his mind, Q answered honestly, “I’m not sure.”
“Okay.” Dr. Turner bobbed her head and flashed a smile. “That’s okay. This is still good.”
Quentin smiled at the way her eyes lit up. “Reggie is a lucky man,” he said, shaking his head. “I hope he knows that.”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she said sternly, but still holding on to a smile. “But yes, he does.”
Their eyes locked for an indeterminate amount of time before Julianne Turner snapped out of her trance and cleared her throat.
“Uh, w-where were we?” She coughed to clear her throat, but when it didn’t work, she hopped up. “Excuse me for just a second.” She rushed over to the small refrigerator and took out a bottled water. She didn’t bother with a glass.
“Are you all right?” Quentin asked, his dimples deepening.
“Yeah. Sure. I’m good.” She waved off his concern, but she was clearly flustered. She tilted the bottle again and drained it. “Okay. Now, where were we?” she asked as she returned to her chair.
“Several places, actually,” Quentin said, checking out the deep flush of embarrassment on her face.
“Forgiveness,” she blurted, sliding back on her professional veneer. “Let’s back up to that. I’m interested in knowing why you think one can’t forgive without being able to forget.”
It was his turn to become uncomfortable again.
“Forgiving a wrong simply means someone chooses not to let the wrongful deed have power over them—the power to hurt, the power to fester, the power to destroy love,” said Dr. Turner, somberly. “Forgiveness can sometimes be just paying lip service, I agree. In society we toss around the word a lot. But it does happen. I see it every day.”
Quentin was quiet for a long time. “I haven’t.”
“No?” she asked dubiously. “Didn’t Victoria ultimately forgive Eamon for his omission? Didn’t Xavier forgive Cheryl for her deceit?”
Quentin’s brows crashed together.
“And what about Jeremy and Leigh? How did he ultimately win over his wife?”
“Well,” Quentin reflected. “It wasn’t easy.”
Chapter 26
Two months later…
“You called her what?” Eamon said, abandoning the buttons on his tuxedo to cup his ear. “I know I didn’t hear you right.”
“You heard him right.” Quentin smirked. “He should count himself lucky that she only slapped him around with a piece of fish instead of him sleeping with them.”
Xavier just stood in front of the mirror holding his cuff links with his mouth visibly gaping open.
“I know. I know.” Jeremy groaned while still fumbling with his Windsor knot. “I don’t think she’s ever going to forgive me.”
“You and me both,” Eamon said. “That’s almost up there with the b-word. I think Victoria would smack the taste out of my mouth if I ever called her that.”
“Of course she would. You’re a borderline domestic-violence victim as it is,” Jeremy shot back.
Xavier roared in agreement. “She does kind of have a temper on her.”
Eamon waved them off. “My baby is just passionate—and as long as you see this smile on my face, just know that your big brother is satisfied.”
Jeremy’s face twisted. “Uh-huh. Has she learned how to cook yet—because you can count me out for family dinners at your house.”
“Victoria doesn’t need to learn how to cook. I handle all that.”
Jeremy and Quentin exchanged glances with each other before they said in union, “That’s a no.”
Eamon refused to be fazed. Nearly a year into matrimony and he was still thrilled about the day his wife stormed into his life like an Amazon goddess, waving around a fifty-million-dollar lawsuit.
“Well, has she even talked to you about the baby?” Xavier asked, worried. “I’m sort of looking forward to being an uncle.”
“No. Not yet,” Jeremy said, trying to tamp down his own nervousness about that. “I don’t mind telling you guys, but I feel like I’m dying over here, man. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I’m hardly at the club anymore. I’m at my wits’ end about this. I’m scared to call her anymore because I’m just a couple calls away from having a harassment suit slapped on me.
“I’ve sent roses, daffodils, irises, sunflowers, daisies—you name it. Friday the florist said that Leigh started refusing my deliveries. And don’t get me started on the chocolates—or the puppy.”
“You sent her a puppy?” Xavier said, frowning.
Jeremy shrugged. “Who doesn’t like puppies? Frankly, I think it’s a good sign that she kept that delivery—but then again it was an adorable Yorkie.”
His brothers shared a look.
“I know. I know. This is never going to happen.” He glanced up, hopeful. “Is it?”
“I’m not one to rain on anyone’s parade,” Eamon said. “But maybe you just need to give her space. Sounds like she’s been through quite a lot. Let all of this process first.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Jeremy bobbed his head. “But patience has never been my strong suit.”
“Check it out, li’l bro,” his brother said. Xavier crossed the room and swung his arm around Jeremy’s shoulder. “You know, Cheryl and I also had to rebuild from scratch. After finding out that she was a cop, I wasn’t even sure that the person I thought I was in love with even existed. Lucky for me it turned out she did. I hate to say it, but you and Leigh have even less invested in each other than even we did at the time. Think about it. You guys really only had that one night. And she’s never given you any indication that she wanted more than that. Am I right?”
Jeremy’s heart sank as he nodded.
“I’m not saying that it can’t happen for you. But I do thi
nk that you need to prepare yourself in case it doesn’t.”
“You’re right.” Jeremy sucked in another deep breath, and then forced a smile. “All right, enough with my pathetic love life. Let’s go see if Cheryl is still crazy enough to take our last name.”
They pounded each other on the back and finished getting ready. And never once after their brotherly talk did Jeremy let on to the rest of his family and friends that his thoughts were swirling around Leigh Matthews.
Cheryl and Xavier’s wedding ceremony at Bradford Galleries was perfect. Cheryl’s small family consisted of a younger sister, Larissa, and her son, Cheryl’s only nephew, Thaddeus. There were a few of Cheryl’s fellow officers from when she was on the force, including her partner, Detective Johnnie Walsh. The rest of the guests were from the Kings’ large family tree—mostly out of Houston, Texas.
Their father, Jorell King, was also the youngest of three brothers: Ivan and Deon. To date, Uncle Ivan had produced the most children: seven boys and two girls, while Uncle Deon often complained about having to chase men away from sniffing around his five girls.
Having just seen them all at Eamon’s wedding, everyone poked and prodded Jeremy about when he was going to tie the knot. His old cries of “Never” had now morphed into “Who knows?” And every time he said it, an image of Leigh racing from him on a moonlit night in Malibu surfaced in his mind.
“So when are you going to tell him?” Ariel asked, sitting across from Leigh on the back deck of their friend Cathy’s Malibu home. “You’re already past your first trimester.”
“I know. I know.” She glanced off toward the ocean and watched the rumbling surf take out a few exuberant surfers. As usual, the young and not-so-young guns would pop back up, looking like a cluster of bobble-heads, laughing and ready to take on another wave.
“I tell you what, I’m more than impressed by how long you’ve made the man grovel. A couple more weeks, and a deed to a house or the keys to a brand-new car might show up.”
“I’m not trying to punish him. I just needed some time,” she said. “Time for myself to reflect, to mourn, to grow—to plan.”
“Do you think that you’ll ever forgive him?”
“That’s just it. I think I did that the day at the Breakfast Café. There’s no doubt in my mind that his apology was sincere. At the time, I thought that I just wanted to hang on to my anger, but I just couldn’t.”
A strong breeze swept across the deck. Leigh closed her eyes and the let the wind comb through her hair. Once it died down, she sighed and opened her eyes.
“You know what’s crazy?”
“What’s that?”
“I miss him.”
“Please say you mean Jeremy King.”
Leigh nodded. “One night. One glorious, uninhibited night of pleasure and I can’t get the guy out of my head. Everything from our dancing at the party to playing in the ocean and…” Her smile almost wrapped around her head.
“Damn. That good, huh?”
“Oh. The sex was out of this world—but there was something else, something I can’t quite put my finger on.” She closed her eyes just in time to feel the next breeze. But this time, she imagined that it was Jeremy who was running his fingers through her hair.
“In the end, I know it could never work. I learned the hard way that you can’t take the play out of a playa. And men like Jeremy and DeShawn are not the settling-down type. They can never be content being a one-woman man. And I refuse to go back to a life where I always get this sickening feeling every time my man doesn’t answer his phone, or he’s always texting on the damn thing when he is around, or when he’s looking me dead in my face, lying—and I know he’s lying. With men like that, women are too readily available and willing, and are nothing more than eye candy or toys.”
Leigh sighed. “No. It could never work, but it is time that I see him and talk to him about the baby. But that’s it.” She turned her head away from Ariel just as the threat of tears burned in the back of her eyelids. It was strange to mourn something that never existed. It was like mourning the death of something or someone you never knew—the death of possibility and of hope.
As the tide crashed onto the rocks along the shore, Leigh closed her eyes again. As she began to drift off, she could have sworn she heard Jeremy’s deep laughter amid the sound of the ocean’s waves.
Chapter 27
“You promised!” Quentin shook his head and fumbled to get the folded piece of paper out of his breast pocket. “I have it right here in writing. You cannot sell your shares in the business.” He smacked the agreement down and pointed to Jeremy’s signature.
“Sorry, cuz,” Jeremy said, pushing away the paper. “I guess you’re just going to have to take me to court.”
Q’s mouth fell open as a feeling of betrayal cut across his face.
“C’mon, man. Don’t look at me like that.” Jeremy slumped back in his chair. “I feel guilty as it is.”
“As you should. You’re breaking your word—and what is a man if he can’t keep his word?”
It was Jeremy’s turn to be shocked. “Damn. You’re going hardcore on me like that?”
“You damn right I am. I’m tired of everyone thinking that it’s okay to just skip out on me. You know, just because I like to joke and be the life of a party, doesn’t mean that I don’t have feelings.”
Jeremy blinked. “What? I’ve never thought anything like that.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Quentin jumped up and snatched the paper off the desk. “You know, I should’ve known this was coming. If you could do your boy dirty, then planting a knife in my back was just something you’d do before taking out the garbage.”
Jeremy had a hard time keeping up with the conversation. “What? Whoa. I didn’t do anything to Roy.”
“You slept with his girl,” Quentin charged.
“I didn’t know she was his girl!”
“But have you talked to him since you found out? Does he know that you’re the one that knocked her up?”
“I’ve tried. I’ve called, texted and emailed him to try to set a date to talk to him. I’ve even rolled by his place, but he’s never there. What else am I supposed to do? Roy won’t talk to me. Leigh won’t talk to me. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is when people won’t even pick up the phone?”
Quentin dropped his head. “I might know a little something about that.”
“All right, then! So what do you propose I do? I’m hoping like hell that Leigh talks to me soon because I’m not going to let her keep me from my kid—and I still have to tell Roy about the whole situation because it will eventually get out that Leigh and I have a kid together. I’m on a wire here and you’re stressing me about this?” Jeremy tossed up his hands. “C’mon, cuz. Does that piece of paper mean that much to you?”
Q turned away to avoid revealing his hurt and disappointment.
“It does mean a lot to you,” Jeremy said and plopped back against his chair. “All right, I won’t sell.”
Quentin shook his head, but refused to turn around. “That’s all right. Don’t do me any favors.”
Jeremy frowned. “You’re acting like this decision means I’m severing ties from you. We’re still cousins, man. We’re family. We don’t need a document to hold us all together.”
Quentin glanced back over his shoulder and found his cousin’s gaze. You mean that? He didn’t say the words, but it was the question that lingered his eyes.
Of course I mean it. Jeremy confirmed their bond with a smile.
Q’s shoulders slumped in acceptance. “All right. But you’ve got to give me time to find another investor.”
“You got it.”
“And…” Quentin continued. “I didn’t mean any of that other stuff. Truth is, you and your brothers are some of the best men I know.”
Jeremy smiled. “Thanks. And back at you.”
His cousin gave him a look like he wasn’t buying the compliment, but it was true. Jeremy was certain that he und
erstood Quentin more than most. Sure, he’d perfected the party-boy image, but it was a facade. His cousin was surprisingly sensitive, smart, gregarious and disarmingly charming. If Jeremy was a betting man, he’d wager that Quentin hadn’t married so that he could get his inheritance back. But instead, he believed Q had given in to his father’s demands to win his love and approval.
Only it just didn’t seem to have worked.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Come in!” Jeremy shouted.
Delilah poked her head through the door. “Are you two decent?”
Quentin laughed.
She cracked a smile, as well. “Laugh all you want, but one never knows when you are in a dick-measuring contest around here.”
“Speaking of which—” Quentin turned toward his boy “—you still owe me two hundred dollars.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to renege on that, too,” Q challenged.
“You know what? It’s time to shut you up, old man.” Jeremy hopped up out of his chair and started unbuttoning his pants.
“Bring it, Junior.” Quentin went for his zipper.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Delilah shouted with her hands up. “Let me just give you this.” She held up a set of keys. “Your real estate agent just sent them over a few minutes ago.”
“Ah, the keys to my new crib.” Jeremy perked up as she dropped them into his hand.
“You bought a new place?” Q asked.
“Yep. I bought Dylan’s old Malibu pad.” Quentin smirked.
“What? It’s a great place. I was just out there yesterday doing a final walk-through. It’s perfect.”
“Uh-huh.” The twinkle in his cousin’s eyes told Jeremy that he was on to him. “Maybe you should give her your Porsche, too?”
Delilah’s brows dipped in confusion. “Give who his Porsche?”
“Nobody,” Jeremy said, signaling to his cousin that he didn’t want his employees all up in his business. “Thanks for bringing this to me, Dee.”
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