Free.
I have nothing tying me down. I can walk out of here and head right to my hotel room. I don’t have a husband to answer to. I don’t have kids to feel ashamed in front of. I have enjoyed an evening with Jacob and now I’m done. I’m leaving. I’m free.
But aside from that, I don’t know how I feel about what happened. I love Jacob. But yet again, I love Marlon just as fiercely. I think, in a way, I feel like this: Jacob and I may love each other but we’re deeply attached to our spouses in a way that we aren’t to each other. That spousal attachment can only come after years of arguments and resolutions, lovemaking and babies, vacations and quiet nights at home. And as comforting as ‘attachment love’ is, something has to be said about ‘taboo love’. It’s that lusty love you feel with someone with whom you haven’t worried about pre-mature labor, broken business deals, mammograms and prostate exams. That love is freeing. Attachment love is comforting.
Jacob and I would have years to make up in order to reach the level of attachment he feels with Winnie and I feel with Marlon. Years. And then, in the end, we’d be back at square one: searching for that taboo love that we once had because though attachment love is comforting, it’s also boring.
I opt for the steps instead of the elevator, which is a good thing because I hear a condo door opening. I’m sure that’s Jacob looking for me. I dart down the steps, ripping my cell phone out of my clutch. Ten more flights to go. I dial Malcolm’s cell number.
“What’s wrong?” he answers.
“Hi, Malcolm. I, um, need a ride. I’m—”
“Meet me downstairs.”
Jacob
(the. crew.)
“I don’t know about you but I fucking love Hilton Head,” Winnie says as she reaches for my hand and takes it in hers. “But it probably has something to do with a certain guy with a big dick that happens to be here.” She turns to look at me and smiles. “Oh, and you too.”
“Funny,” I say back to her. We laugh together … and my guilt rises yet again.
Two years we’ve been married.
Two years … damn.
We’re in Hilton Head, having come here for an annual Fourth of July vacation. As usual, there’s a shitload of people here. Cousins upon cousins upon cousins upon uncles and aunts and sisters and now the Yates, Winnie’s family, joins us. My mother and Aunt Angie are having their witty repartee as usual, slyly taking jabs at the others’ hairstyle. There’s an unofficial corned beef cook-off where their husbands and children are the judges.
Cadence and his wife Lola are ‘dining’ as he notified us all. They left for their dinner reservation after the yearly basketball tournament the men have in the back of Aunt Angie’s home. Nat and Dena are going for a stroll through the wooded trail around the resort, as per her request. God help Nat. He’s trying his best to make this work with Dena, catering to her every need just so she’ll be tolerable at home. But I can tell it’s hard for him; I’m not sold on his ‘yes, dear, no, dear’ act. I can also tell that he’s pissed that me being married to Winnie isn’t as hard for me as he hoped it would be.
Reason being? I fell in love with her.
Winnie and I are at Oyster Bar right now with Malcolm and Laura. Malcolm’s on his cell phone, checking messages from Senator Carlo Rossi, Laura’s father and Blair and Associates’ newest high profile client. Nat, Cadence, Malcolm, and I along with our girls currently live in London where we’re under the tutelage of Malcolm’s father. There we each have flats in the same building on Holborn, right in Midtown. We have our own firm in the West End that boasts a roster of old-money Londoners, mainly businessmen. We moved to London after graduation to learn how to practice law and to learn from the mistakes along the way. We’d rather do this with a bunch of polite ass tea-sippers than with hot-blooded Americans. We’ll be perfect in our execution once we come back to the States.
Life is London isn’t bad at all; we eat fish and chips, bangers and mash, and shepherd pie like we’re locals. We have late night meetings in the Ambassador’s house, also known as Uncle Wynston’s pad. We’re on top of the world. But we always keep our eventual move back to the States in mind, which is why Malcolm wooed Laura’s father. Carlo Rossi is our only American and only high profile client so we treat him like he’s God.
Currently, Laura’s whispering something in Malcolm’s ear and smiling. Mac has his usual smirk on his face, but his eyes are glued to his blackberry screen. We never rest.
“Are you listening to me, Malcolm?” Laura asks before taking a sip of her Shirley Temple and popping the cherry in her mouth.
“Yeah, baby. I hear you,” he says as he leans over and kisses her on the temple, his eyes still glued to his blackberry. This, of course, annoys the hell out of Laura; she’s convinced that ever since Mac and I graduated from law school, all he’s concerned about is business. Namely, her father. So I can tell Laura’s about to throw a tantrum in five … four … three … two…
“I’m so unhappy right now!” she yells at the top of her lungs, eyes closed, head tilted back.
“And here we go,” Winnie whispers to me.
“Alright, Laura,” Malcolm says with his usual patience as he slides his phone into his pocket. “Relax.” I feel so bad for Mac, I can’t even tease him properly. You gotta understand, Mac is my brother. Plain and simple. And he’s a good dude. He deserves somebody with brains and spunk, not Laura’s bratty ass. “What do you need?” he asks coolly. “Another Shirley Temple? You wanna order some food?” He drapes his arm behind the back of her chair and kisses her again on the temple.
“What I want is for the love of my life to show me some attention,” she says in that whiny ass voice that I can barely stand to listen to.
“I got you,” he says with that perseverance that makes me want to knock the hell out of him. Damn, for once I want him to tell her to shut her ass up. Stop being a brat. Stop acting like a goddamn kid. “I’ll go get you another drink,” he says instead.
“That’s better,” she says with a little grin as she looks up at him through her lashes.
“Ugh,” I hear Winnie say as she takes a sip of her bourbon and coke.
“I know,” I say under my breath as I sip my scotch. “You want another one?” I nod to her glass.
“Sure, leave me here alone with her.” I laugh and raise my hand to give her a fist bump. Be strong. She bumps it back. Hurry your ass up.
“Hey!” I hear Cadence say from behind me. I turn and see him and Lola walking up to our table, arm and in arm, smiling. I have to admit, these two just may have the most perfect marriage I’ve ever seen. Cadence is a damn sucker for love and Lola worships him. He steps out on her from time to time but other than that, their marriage is perfect.
“Oh, you all just have to go to Italiano’s for dinner!” Lola says. “They’ve changed their entire menu and it’s so good.”
“I hate Italian,” Laura says with a pout.
“Laura, we are Italian,” Lola says in disgust.
“Eww, don’t remind me.” She slides her hands down Malcolm’s chest. “I’m going to have Dane babies,” she says with a smile before giving Malcolm a quick kiss on the lips.
“That you are, baby,” Mac says with a smile of his own. So, this is the thing about Malcolm Alexandre Blair: he’s full of shit. And he’s also the best—and I mean the best—bullshitter alive. “Tons of them,” he says with a wink. Winnie kicks me under the table.
“We’re in love,” Laura turns and notifies us. Winnie kicks me again.
“There goes red!” Cadence says out of nowhere. Oh, shit. I watch Malcolm ease away from Laura almost imperceptibly before locking eyes with Cadence. Winnie kicks me under the table. She’s never forgotten about the Danielle Rouge/Danielle Red conversation and though Cadence screams the ‘there goes red!’ phrase out often, I’ve never admitted to Winnie that it’s in reference to Danielle. But let’s be honest, Winnie Blair is quick as hell. She already knows. I look at her and we both smile at each other
before looking away.
“What does that even mean!” Laura says as she laughs. “You better tell us all one day!” She points to Cadence and laughs harder.
“Let me go get you that drink,” Mac says as he stands. I go ahead and stand with him as Cadence assists Lola into her chair.
“I’ll stay here and guard the women,” Cadence says as he takes a seat. “I want to make sure their virtue is protected at a place like Oyster Bar.” He smiles as Laura and Lola laugh. Winnie looks over her shoulder and gives me the ‘hurry your ass up’ look. I nod before smiling at her.
“Rossi saying anything interesting?” I ask Mac as we walk away from the table.
“Issues with Cynthia and Eva,” Malcolm says as he takes his blackberry out of his pocket again. “Eva’s been checking his phone records. But that just confirms what I’ve been saying; we need to see if Nat can come up with a separate phone network for us, a private one. I’ve got a feeling that we’ll need it one day.”
“Are we still talking about Nat like he’s a legitimate member of the firm?”
“Come on Jake, he went with his father for six months.”
“No heart. He doesn’t deserve to be at the firm. You, Cadence, me. We’re Blair and Associates.”
“We both know Cadence is on his way out. And cut Nat some slack,” Mac says as we stand in front of the bar now, waiting on this slow-ass blond guy to come and take our drink orders. “Dena’s already driving him up the wall with her prima donna bullshit. And trust me, I have compassion for the man. We all can’t be as lucky as you,” he says as he nods towards Winnie. “His home life is a damn wreck. At least give him an office to run away to.”
“Who’s lucky?” I ask almost offensively. Mac smiles and nods at me.
“You, muthafucka. You’re happy with your wife.”
And the guilt rises again.
I shouldn’t be the lucky one. I shouldn’t be the one who looks forward to going back to his flat. I was the one who fought and screamed the most about marrying a woman for leverage and not love. Out of all of us, I, Jacob Blair, think that people should marry for love. Even Cadence married Lola for leverage, which eventually turned into love. Cadence. I was the one who nearly called off my wedding. And now look at me. I’m probably the happiest.
I’m in love with Winnie Blair.
And there’s that guilt. I’m in love with my wife, though I made a pact with myself that I would never fall in love with her. I couldn’t imagine doing that to Jasmine. It wouldn’t be fair if I fell in love with Winnie when I knew that Jasmine, as good as she was to me, was out there heartbroken. I should be in a loveless marriage where I come home miserable every day and stay in the office all night just to avoid my woman’s face. I should be Nat or Malcolm. I shouldn’t be happy.
But I am.
“Hey, handsomes,” a woman says as she slides in between Mac and me, staring straight ahead. She wants to figure out which one of us will take the bait. Tall, brunette, ample ass. She has nothing on Winnie.
But that’s never stopped me before.
“What’s going on, baby?” I say to her. She turns completely towards me and smiles.
“Nothing. What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing much … drink?”
“An apple martini,” she says as she smiles up at me through her lashes. I watch Malcolm steal a look over at Winnie. “What’s your name?”
“Peter. Yours?”
“Marge.”
“Nice to meet you, Margie.”
“Margie? You’ve given me a nickname already?” She smiles and bats her lashes.
“I have.”
“Okay then, Pete.”
“Pete? You’ve given me a nickname now?”
“I have.”
“Hmm…”
“Yeah … hmm.” We smile at each other before I steal another glance back over to Winnie who’s nodding along to Laura and Cadence who are almost dying laughing over each other. They seem to be having a dramatic and hilarious conversation as Lola just smiles and nods before wrapping her arm inside of Cadence’s. He takes a break from laughing with Laura to look at Lola and give her a quick kiss on the lips. Laura stops smiling. Sweet, I see Laura mouth before downing the rest of her Shirley Temple. I watch Winnie take a sip of her drink.
Winnie. Damn, I love her.
But Jasmine.
Jasmine was too good to me, I shouldn’t love another woman. I shouldn’t have married another woman. I shouldn’t have done that to her. I shouldn’t be in love with Winnie. Karma should have fucked me over. I shouldn’t be lucky. I shouldn’t be happy.
“What you getting into this week, Margie?” I ask as I move closer to her.
“I don’t know, Pete. What are you getting into?”
Jasmine
(the. dream.)
I’m having a dream, or at least I hope it’s a dream. Am I dreaming? God, I hope so.
“It’s my frying pan!” Pearl yells out as she and Tiffany both hold on to it in the middle of Malcolm and Danielle’s kitchen.
“No, it’s not!” Tiffany yells back. “I was about to hit Mom with it first!”
“No, I was!” Did they just say they were about to hit me with it?
I hear a heartbeat.
“Ladies,” Marlon says as he appears beside me. “I need to use that pan as a paper weight. I have work to do.” He turns to me. “I think I can explain what’s going on.”
“Marlon, do something!” I scream to him.
“You see,” he says, ignoring me, “they both want to hit you with the pan but they both want to be the first one to do it.”
“Do something!” I yell at him as Tiffany and Pearl’s tug of war continues.
“I’m turning on the stove,” Danielle says as she breezes into the kitchen, her red hair trailing behind her like fiery flames. “I need to make some tea and scones.”
“Danielle, do something!” I say to her as she begins turning on the stove.
“Like what? I’m not even talking to you.” She opens the oven door and I see a fire burning inside of it.
“It’s not supposed to be on fire,” Marlon says with an observant look. “But I could use the flames to burn my files instead of shredding them. The shredder is too noisy.” He turns to leave.
“Marlon get back here!” I say grabbing a hold of him. “Help your daughters!”
“I could sing for them,” Nicky says as he walks into the kitchen. “That could help.” He starts singing “Silly” by Deneice Williams.
“Is everyone crazy?” I ask as I look around.
“Come on.”
Did Jacob just say that? I turn to my left and see Jacob standing there, a motorcycle helmet under his arm.
“Where did you come from?” I didn’t even hear him sneak up beside me. He points to the stove and into the fire. “You came out of the stove? I didn’t see you come out of the flames.”
“Where else would I come from? Coal is used to start fires, Jasmine,” he says as he points to a stack of gleaming hot coals in the stove. Nicky is now singing at the top of his lungs.
“Nicky, please!” I yell out.
“So, come on,” Jacob says again.
“Where are we going?”
“For a ride.”
“Where to, Jacob?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does. I have a family now. I need to know where I’m going and when I’ll be back. I need to know that I’ll be safe; my family depends on me to stay alive.”
“Well, I’m not sure where we’re going, Jasmine.”
“Well then I can’t go, Jacob.” What does he expect from me?
“Why?”
“I need to know where I’m going.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know.”
“Then I’m not going with you, Jacob. At this point in your life you should know where you’re going and when you’ll be back.”
�
��Why?”
“Because of the children!” I start to hear the sound of my heart beating. Thump. Thump. “Can hear my heartbeat?” I ask him.
“I don’t understand what that means.” Disappointment fills my chest.
“And you probably never will.” He looks at me in confusion. The sound of my heartbeat stops. We both stare at each other as the girls continue to fight over the pan, as Marlon continues to stand by me and watch them, as Danielle starts to gather ingredients for her scones, as Nicky starts to sing even louder.
“I hear it now,” Jacob says as we lock eyes with each other.
“Huh?”
“I hear the heartbeats.”
I look at him like he’s crazy. The heartbeats have stopped. “I don’t hear my heartbeats anymore.”
“You don’t?” he asks.
“You do?”
“I do.”
“No, you can’t.”
“I do.”
“I don’t hear my heartbeats anymore, Jacob.”
“I hear heartbeats, Jasmine,” he says. And like a ghoul, Winnie climbs out of the oven and Jacob looks at her. “I do.”
“Let me help you,” Winnie says to Danielle as she stands in front of the oven now, the flames sparking and popping around her legs. She doesn’t even flinch.
“Stir this,” Danielle says as she hands Winnie a bowl.
“I hear heartbeats,” Jacob says as he looks at Winnie.
“Jacob is here,” Winnie says without turning around, as if she doesn’t see us at all.
“Is he?” Danielle says.
“Yeah, I hear his heartbeats.” I strain my ear to listen. I don’t hear a thing.
“Malcolm is coming,” Danielle says as she turns around and looks towards the kitchen door.
“How do you know?” Winnie asks.
“I hear him.”
I look towards the door and watch Dustiny come in.
“Introducing Malcolm Blair!” he screams out before clapping wildly.
“Umm, thanks,” Malcolm says as he walks in.
Forever. (This. Is. Not. Over. Book 3) Page 14