Candy noticed that this happened whenever Angelica was angry or when she was upset, but didn’t want anyone to know it. It was her way of showing her displeasure.
“You know who she reminds me of, when she was a child?”
“Who?”
She and Liza exchanged a look.
“Believe it or not, Liza.”
At first Candy was surprised, but then she recalled when Liza disclosed what it had been like for her, growing up. She had spoken to the girls during a group gab session over six months ago, when she first started volunteering, and shared how as a young girl she’d been a lot different than the put-together woman she was today.
The woman had it together. It didn’t matter that her upbringing had been so rocky, Candy thought with a small bit of envy.
“As together as you are now, I have to admit it’s still hard to believe,” Candy replied.
“Yes, I know!” Liza smiled slightly. “But Karina and I both grew up in the same neighborhood, both came to the Club,” she said, referring to Girls Unlimited. “I think the difference was, although we both grew up without a pot to tinkle in, was that Kari always had her Big Momma and mother,” Liza replied, referring to Karina’s grandmother.
Karina picked up the rest by saying, “And Liza usually had to fend for herself.” Karina shook her head sadly.
“Yeah, girl. As a kid my motto was strike out first, before being struck. But as a social worker I learned later that was the way it was for a lot of children who were abused, either physically, or emotionally, as I was.”
“Fortunately, for Angelica, I don’t think this is going on in her home. It appears as though her family home life is positive, nurturing,” Liza both asked and stated to Candy.
“Yes, I would have to agree. Davis is a good dad. I hope I’m able to help them come to some resolution. Maybe I’ll be able to help unearth the reasons for Angelica’s behavior.”
“I’m sure you will. If there’s anything you ever need, if I can help in a professional way—” Liza began.
“I know I can come to you, Liza. I appreciate it.” Candy smiled and glanced up at the knock on her door. “It’s open.”
“Ms. Candy, I hate to bother you, but the volunteers is here and you’d best to come on and get ’em started on what you want them to do,” Pauline Rogers said, barging into the room.
“Okay, Sister Pauline, thank you. Did you happen to see if Angelica Strong and her father were here?” Candy asked, as all three women left her office.
She turned around and turned the light off in her office, closing and locking the door behind her, and missed the significant look that Sister Pauline gave the two women.
“Little Angelica is here, but her daddy dropped her off, she said.” Pauline answered her as she turned back around and followed the women down the hallway.
“Her aunt Milly is here with her, though, so that should be some help for us,” Pauline said, slyly glancing at Candy from the corner of her eyes. “Unless you was wantin’ to know if her daddy was coming here for reasons other than volunteering.”
Candy ignored the question and the sly look the old woman gave and opened the door to the gym. She further ignored the accompanying guffaw from Pauline and the look of amusement she caught from both Karina and Liza as they followed her inside.
24
“C ome on, Miss Candy, come out and dance with us! I know you know how to do this dance! Whenever my mama and her sisters go out clubbin’, this is their favorite!”
“No way! You all are not going to laugh at me,” Candy protested.
Shantella, one of her older girls, tugged on Candy’s arm trying to force her out on the dance floor.
She literally dug in her heels as the other girls teased her. They were trying their best to convince her to come out on the dance floor and do the cha-cha slide with them.
She ignored the part of Sherry’s comment, that she should know how to do the particular dance, because Sherry’s mother knew how. The implication was she was the same age as Shantella’s mother. To girls Sherry’s age, all women over twenty-five were ancient and belonged in the same genre, anyway.
Which, as Candy thought about it, was probably close to the truth. She knew Chanel, Shantella’s mother, was in her early thirties, having had Shantella her senior year in high school.
“Okay okay, I’ll dance!” she grudgingly agreed, and allowed the girls to pull her onto the dance floor.
“Aw, snap! Miss Candy’s gonna get her dance on!” one of the other girls laughingly said as she helped to push Candy on the floor.
Candy jumped into the circle of dancers and after a few missteps, caught the rhythm and shuffled, jumped, and cha cha’d with the rest of the dancers.
Soon, the floor was filled with dancers of all ages, from the younger kids who were surprisingly good at following the simple dance routine, to several of the volunteers, who happily joined in, comfortable with the more familiar dance and music.
By the time the D.J. finished remixing the extended version of the remix, Candy was completely out of breath, and when the music changed to a faster, more furious beat she held up both hands in defeat.
“Sorry girls, I’m out of my element here! I’ll catch the next ‘old chicks’ song!”
Despite her heartbeat pounding against her chest from the impromptu exercise, Candy laughed and readjusted the band she wore around her hair. She wiped the dew of perspiration that had misted her forehead with the tips of her fingers.
“Aww, come on Ms. Candy, can’t you hang?” One of the girls asked as they crowded around Candy, all flushed and laughing.
“Yeah, Ms. Candy…can’t you hang?”
The oh-so-familiar goosebumps feathered down the length of her arms when she heard the whispered comment, against the back of her ear, from the deep, I’ve-got-what-you-need voice she knew too well.
Although it was dark in the gym and no one was paying her any attention anyway, she felt as though a high beam was aimed directly on her and her ridiculous-acting nipples.
Candy twisted her body around and came face-to-face with the owner of the sexy, deep, voice.
As she’d spun around she’d nearly lost her balance until his big hands reached out and spanned her waist, catching her before she could fall. One of Candy’s hands splayed across his muscled chest, the other grabbed on to a bicep to catch her balance.
“Davis, I didn’t think you were going to be here.”
“And why would you think that?” he had to lean closer so she could hear him speak. The smell of his breath was warm and minty, and Candy’s reaction was predictable and immediate.
She pushed away from his hard body and adjusted the fabric covering her breasts.
“I assumed you wouldn’t be coming when Angelica came alone, with Milly.”
Davis had pulled her back closer into his arms and maneuvered between the dancing couples, finding them a spot in relative isolation from the wild dancing teenagers.
“I had some things to attend to, so I could be here. I told Milly to tell you I’d be here, didn’t she?” he asked.
Although the song was a fast-paced rap tune, Davis pulled her close as they danced. The feel of his hard body moving back and forth against hers had Candy wanting to go into straight cat mode and slide her body up against his, despite her conflicting feelings about him.
There was no denying the man had a body that was lethal, more sex appeal than should be legal, and the way he was moving against her made her want to do things to him, right there in the middle of the gym floor, that she knew would get her arrested.
Aware of the sweat on her body after dancing with her girls, she tried to move away, but Davis wouldn’t allow her to.
“This is a fast song, Davis! Besides, I’m nasty and sweaty. You don’t want to dance close to me, now.”
“And since when did a little sweat hurt a man? Last night the way our slick bodies ground against each other as we exchanged all that good and nasty sweat wasn’t
a problem…what’s changed?” Davis asked, lowering his face close to hers, murmuring the words directly for her ears alone.
Their surroundings seemed to fade into the background as their eyes never left contact with the other.
“Okay, kids, let’s switch the pace!” The D.J. said as the final beats ended for the remixed version of the remix version of some song, Candy had not a clue. “Let’s mix it up so our volunteers can catch their breaths!” he finished. “There’s nobody who does it better than Mr. Luther Vandross, as I’m sure our volunteers would agree.”
“This is better. Come on, dance with me, Candy.”
Candy slowly, at first with hesitancy, raised her arms and rested her hands on his chest, and allowed him to pull her tight as they danced.
The new song began to pour from the speakers booming from the center stage where the D.J. had set up his equipment.
The song was considerably slower and much more sexy. Although it was one of Candy’s personal favorites, she eased out of Davis’ hold, more than ready to leave the dance floor, and even more ready to clear her mind and get away from him.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve been dancing for the last twenty minutes straight! Besides, I need to check on the kids,” Candy answered, her voice breathy, although their dancing had nothing to do with her breathless state.
“The kids are fine, there are plenty of volunteers. Besides, I don’t think one more dance will hurt, do you?”
Before she could answer, Sister Pauline was right behind her, pushing her back into Davis’ arms.
“Go on and dance, Ms. Candy, I’m on patrol, don’t worry ’bout a thing. I don’t like how close some of these boys is dancing with our girls, I think I need to circulate on the dance floor.
I got my baton right here,” she said pointing to the small club she had holstered to her side, better than any cop. “And my whistle,” she said and pointed to the whistle dangling from the familiar string hanging around her neck. “Just in case I need to separate ’em.”
With a gleeful look in her eyes she turned and surveyed the kids as they began to dance. “You have fun, I got this, baby.” Sister Pauline murmured, and with an absent-sounding goodbye she left Candy and Davis.
“See, even Sister Pauline thinks you should keep on dancing with me. Come on, we’ll move to a corner away from the others,” he said and led her to an isolated area of the gym.
As she allowed him to pull her back into his arms, she gave up fighting it. She wanted to be in his arms, wanted to feel his arms wrapped around hers. She lay her head against his chest, and felt the steady, strong beat of his heart against her ear.
Davis pulled Candy against him and began to sway to the soft music.
Before he’d found himself in the parking lot of the center, Davis hadn’t been sure he was coming, although he’d told Angelica and Milly he’d return later. After he’d dropped Candy off at home, he’d driven to his sister’s house. Surprised, she’d welcomed him inside, and he’d disclosed to Milly, or better yet Milly had manage to pry out of him, the conflicting emotions he had surrounding the woman he now held, nestled, in his arms.
“What brings you here? This is supposed to be a girl’s weekend,” Milly said and briefly hugged Davis. She moved to the side and allowed him to enter.
“I know,” Davis replied shrugging off his coat. “I won’t stay long, just thought I’d drop by and see Angel before I head in to the office.”
“Angel is still asleep. We stayed up pretty late watching a SpongeBob marathon,” Milly groaned.
“Hell, better you than me. I can’t tell you the times I’ve been forced to watch that particular marathon,” Davis grunted, completely unsympathetic to his sister’s pain.
“Aw, come on Davis, loosen up. You know you like the square one just as much as Angel does!” Milly accused.
“I guess he’s not that bad,” he laughed. “Actually, it’s okay that Angel’s not up yet. It will give us a chance to talk. We haven’t talked about how the return to the office is going for you,” Davis said.
The smell of bacon pleasantly assaulted his nose as he followed Milly into the kitchen.
“Oh, it’s going fine, I guess.”
She handed him a glass of orange juice before walking over to the stove and turning the sizzling bacon in the skillet. Davis sat at the island in one of the high-backed bar stools and thanked her before taking a sip. After taking a cautious drink, he put the glass down.
He thought he’d hidden his grimace, but when she turned accusing eyes in his direction he knew he’d been busted.
“Sorry, Mil, you know I don’t like it from a carton. At least get the kind in a glass container. This stuff tastes like cardboard.”
Davis knew he had it coming when Milly turned away from the stove after turning off the flame beneath the sizzling bacon and faced him, one hand on her ample hip.
“You know Davis, at first you had tendencies. But now I think you’re a step away from some kind of compulsive disorder. You know what’s next, right?” she asked, biting the inside of her cheek to prevent the laugh from escaping.
“No…what?” Davis knew her answer.
“Full-out dementia, big brother. Drink the damn juice,” she laughed and turned back to the oven.
“So, how’s it going Mil?”
He carefully observed Milly as she bustled around the kitchen, removing plates from the hutch and setting out silverware, and gave a mental sigh of relief when he noted that her limp was barely discernible. When she turned to face him again, plate in hand, he made sure his expression was light.
“It feels good to be back. I think I’ll have to relearn the office. In the short time I’ve been gone, there’ve been some changes,” she said and turned back and filled his plate.
“Take your time, there’s no rush. Rodney has an assistant who seems to be working out—”
“Yes, I know. Letty,” she interrupted, her smile tight. “I met her when I visited yesterday.” She placed his food in front of him.
“Didn’t know you’d come by the office, yesterday. I was there most of the day,” he said and took a bite of the bacon, his eyes trained on Milly.
“I think you were with a client. I wasn’t there long. I met Letty, she seems nice.”
“She is. But I think Rodney would prefer working with you. He said no one could ever replace you.”
When Milly stumbled and nearly upset the plate of food she was carrying, Davis leapt to his feet and steadied her and the food.
“I’m okay, Davis! Just a little stumble,” she said, averting her face.
Davis took the plate from her hands and settled his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “Are you okay? Look, Milly, we know each other too well to try and bullshit each other. Lately, every time I mention Rodney you either get angry or butterfingery.”
“Butterfingery Davis?” she chortled.
“You know what I mean. What’s going on with you two?” he asked after leading her to sit in one of the matching high-backed stools.
“I wish I knew. I’m just about as clueless as you are. I’m not sure what to make of him. He’s so damn irritating, I swear! I’m back for less than a few weeks, and already the man is trying to dictate to me what I can or can’t do.”
“I think I’m missing something! When did this all start?”
Milly shook her head. “It’s confusing, Davis. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I don’t even have it worked out in my own mind what’s going on with us. If anything. I’m not ready to talk about that, right now. When I need to talk, I know where you are,” she smiled, slightly. “I think you have much more pressing things going on with you than anything I have going on with Rodney, at any rate. So spill, before Angelica makes it down here.”
They both heard the unmistakable sounds of Angelica pounding her way down the stairs, and knew she’d be in the kitchen in a matter of moments.
“What the hell is going on with you and Candy,
and did you two finally do the horizontal shuffle, or what?”
Davis nearly choked on the toast sliding down his throat as he turned to face his sister.
“How the hell did you know?”
The look on her face told him that she hadn’t…but now she did. Chin perched in her hands, elbows on the counter, Milly listened in open-mouthed surprise when he quickly filled her in, in succinct detail, on what happened between Candy and himself.
25
T he singer crooned over the loudspeakers and Davis rested his chin lightly against the top of Candy’s head, moving it softly back and forth against her soft curls.
Angelica had saved him from giving his sister a detailed account of exactly how well he and Candy had done the “horizontal shuffle,” as she put it, even if he’d been inclined to give details.
Which he wasn’t.
But he’d never been able to hide anything from Milly for long. He had no idea she’d even known he’d been attracted to Candy, much less that she would guess they’d made love last night.
Pressed as close as he was to Candy, he could feel every soft curve on her small body molded to his larger one, perfectly. As though they were two halves of the same whole.
He pressed his nose close to her hair, and inhaled deeply the intoxicating scent she seemed to naturally exude.
Chocolate and sweet peppermint.
Sweet and addictive, just like her name. Just like Candy.
From the first time he’d met her, her unique scent had reached out and enveloped him in its heady embrace.
The scent was all over her, and not simply her hair. He’d discovered for himself last night how much a part of her it was, how intoxicating it was to all of his senses. As he’d licked every part of her body, her scent had transferred to him, and his to hers in a tango of bodies and hot desire.
The thought of the things she’d allowed him to do, how he’d handled her in the way he’d dreamed of…he felt his body’s instant response; the front of his button-fly jeans grew taut and his cock swelled.
It had been the hottest night of his life.
Just Like Candy Page 15