by Donna Hill
Jacqueline squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “You’re right. I hired a Realtor, a moving company and a designer—three months ago. I’d planned to leave and not come back.” She watched the muscles of his throat work but he didn’t speak. He simply stared at her as if seeing her through a mist. Her heart thundered in her chest. She felt the sting in her eyes but she would not cry as she watched him pick up his bag, turn without a word and walk out.
Chapter 17
Raymond stalked out of the apartment. His temples pounded. He had no idea where he was going or what he was going to do next. All he was certain of was that he had to get away before he truly said something that he would regret and could never take back.
He walked along 72nd Street, hurt and anger blurring his vision. For the first time in their often-tumultuous relationship, he had no idea who Jacqueline Lawson really was. That realization gouged a hole in his gut. He’d been in love with her for years. Although unspoken until recently, he was sure that she never doubted that he cared deeply for her and would do anything within his power to keep her happy and safe. Declaring his love for her, to Jacqueline, was akin to staking a claim, and she was not one to be nailed down or possessed in any way. So he’d kept those three powerful words to himself, only declaring them because he honestly felt that they were well beyond the superficial boundaries that had been established. He’d wanted to reassure her that no matter what, he was there for her. That’s what you did for someone that you loved.
But now, he had no idea who that someone was. How could she have been so secretive and deceitful for so many months? She looked him in the eyes day after day, made love with him, shared her life with him and never revealed what her plans were. What kind of woman did that? What else didn’t he know about her and may never know? Is that the kind of relationship that he wanted—one filled with secrets and personal agendas?
He wasn’t sure what feeling was worst, the anger or the sense of betrayal.
Continuing along 72nd Street, he came upon Sambuca, an upscale restaurant. He stopped momentarily, tempted to go, in but decided it was a place for a date and not for a man who needed to be alone with a stiff drink.
He hoisted the strap of his carry-on higher up on his shoulder and kept walking. He turned onto Amsterdam Avenue and saw the Sugar Bar up ahead. He remembered that Valerie Simpson and her late husband Nick Ashford owned the restaurant. He pulled open the door and stepped inside.
The deep dark woods, warm reds and vibrant oranges were like a welcoming embrace. African art and artifacts graced the walls. Soft music played somewhere in the background.
It was smaller than he’d thought, but that gave the space an intimate vibe. He walked over to the wraparound bar and slid onto a stool.
“Hi, what can I get for you?” the female bartender asked.
Today he would forgo his usual brew. He needed something stronger.
“Bourbon.”
“We have Jim Beam black label and white label. Or would you prefer something else?”
“Black label. Thanks.”
She placed a shot glass in front of him and poured the amber liquid to the rim. “Would you like anything from the menu?”
“Sure, let me take a look.”
She took a menu from beneath the counter and placed it in front of him.
He glanced at the name tag pinned to her chest. “Thanks, Denise.”
She gave him a smile that lasted a bit longer than necessary before turning to the next customer.
Ray opened the menu and scanned the selections, just as his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket half hoping that it would be Jacqueline ready with some kind of explanation that made sense. It was his friend Matt.
“Hey, Matt…”
“Hey, bro. What’s up? You back in L.A.?”
“Naw. A change of plans.” He lifted his drink and took a swallow. The warm burn filled his belly.
“What kind of change?”
Ray heard water running in the background. “Detour to New York. Long story.”
“New York? What the…you’re here in the city and you didn’t call a brother?”
“Huh?” Then it hit him. Matt had headed to New York after their assignment in Indonesia. So much had happened in the last week, he’d totally forgotten.
“Sorry, man. Happened kinda fast.”
“Where are you staying?”
His gut shifted. Visions of Jacqueline’s apartment flashed in his head. “At the moment, the Sugar Bar.”
“You’re staying at the Sugar Bar?” He chuckled, believing Ray was joking. “No, seriously, where are you staying? We can get together while you’re in town. Is J with you?”
“Naw.” He took another swallow and it went to his head.
“Naw, we can’t get together or naw J’s not with you?”
“J’s not with me.” He finished off his drink and singled Denise for another.
Matt was quiet for a moment. “I’m just about finished what I was doing.” The sound of running water ceased. “Why don’t I meet you over there in about twenty minutes? We can toss back a few.”
Ray gave a ragged laugh. “I’m way ahead of you on that one, bro.” Denise put his second drink down in front of him.
“Don’t get too far ahead. I won’t be able to catch up. See you in a few.”
“Yeah. In a few.” He disconnected the call then looked at his phone wondering if he may have missed a call or text from Jacqueline. Nothing. He took a long swallow from his drink. Matt better get there pretty quick.
By the time Matt Davis arrived at the Sugar Bar, Ray was seated at a table and on his fourth bourbon. Life was getting fuzzy around the edges.
Matt slid onto the chair opposite him. Raymond glanced up through eyes that were beginning to glaze.
“Good stuff,” he said, lifting his glass to Matt.
* * *
Matt grabbed Raymond by the wrist to hold the ascent of the glass to his mouth. “How many is this one?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
“Hmm. Don’t know.”
“Let’s get some food to soak up all this good bourbon.” He signaled for the waitress.
“We’ll take two steak dinners, baked potato and collard greens,” Matt said to the waitress. He refocused his attention on his friend. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, man?”
Raymond blinked Matt into focus. “Betrayal is kinda f’d up, ya know.”
“Sounds like a blues lyric.”
Raymond stared into the bottom of his glass. The corner of his mouth curled into more of a snarl than a grin. “Yeah.”
“What’s going on, man? What happened with you and Jacqueline?”
“Lied to me…for months. Planned on leaving me,” he muttered.
“What? What are you talking about? J?” he asked in disbelief. He figured it was the bourbon talking but a part of him knew better. Raymond didn’t get wasted. He liked to stay on point. Something definitely happened. But he didn’t think Raymond was in the frame of mind to explain. Instead Matt made small talk until their food arrived.
By the time they’d finished their meal, Raymond had sobered up enough so that he didn’t sound as if he was talking in slow motion. What Matt was able to get out of him was something about Jacqueline being
really ill and she’d come to New York for some kind of special treatment and he’d left her because he didn’t know her anymore.
It didn’t make sense to him even if it made sense to Raymond. What Matt did know for sure was that Raymond had no place to stay.
Matt paid the tab and they headed to his condo on 56th Street.
* * *
Raymond flopped down on the couch and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He leaned his head back against the couch cushion and cl
osed his eyes. At least nothing was spinning, he thought absently.
The aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafted under his nose. He stirred and lazily opened his eyes. Matt was standing above him with a mug of coffee in his hand.
“Thanks.” Raymond took the mug. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Yeah, for about an hour. How are you feeling?”
“Better.” He took a sip of the steaming coffee.
Matt took a seat opposite him in an armchair. “You feel like talking about it?”
Raymond exhaled a long, slow breath. “I don’t understand how she could do something like that. I mean, okay, I got over her pulling up stakes. I went for her reason that she didn’t want to be a burden. But…when we got to New York and I saw where she’d set up her new place, it hit me. She’d been planning all this behind my back for months. I was sleeping with this woman, man, and she was doing all this right under my nose. Feel like a real sucker.” He said the last word like it was a contagious disease.
Matt rolled over in his head what he’d heard. What could he say? Sometimes people did real dumb mess, especially to people that they care about, maybe because they care.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do. You know what you want. I will say that, regardless of how pissed off you might be, this is the time to put your feelings aside and be there for her. She screwed up. She should have been up-front with you. But you know the deal now. You know why she did it. You don’t have to agree with it. But you gotta give it to her. Jacqueline is her own woman. It’s what you love about her. You’ve told me so yourself.” He paused, waiting for his words to sink in. “She thought she was sparing you.”
Raymond’s eyes settled on his friend then glanced away. “Yeah, maybe,” he conceded.
“The couch pulls out,” Matt said as he stood. “I’ll get you some sheets.”
Chapter 18
Jacqueline was the cat on a hot tin roof. She jumped at every creak of a floorboard, distant voice and blare of car horns. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d paced to the front window, pulled back the curtain and peered up and down the unfamiliar streets hoping to see Raymond.
She’d picked up her phone and dialed his number a half-dozen times but disconnected the call before it rang. What could she say? She didn’t know where to begin. She’d deceived him. Had she been on trial she would surely be convicted of premeditated betrayal.
She dragged one of the club chairs up to the window that faced the street, settled down, pulled her knees up to her chest and waited. He had to come back. But what would she do if he didn’t?
Something startled her. She jumped and her body screamed from the pretzel-like position it had been held in for hours. The rattling of a garbage truck began to fade into the distance. She blinked against the rose-colored light that hung above the skyline of Manhattan. She rubbed her eyes and unwrapped her body. Her limbs protested as she slowly stood.
She’d fallen asleep in the chair. Her heart suddenly pounded as her thoughts cleared. Ray. She fumbled on the windowsill for her phone and snatched it up, certain that she’d missed his call.
Nothing.
Her spirits sank. She wandered downstairs to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.
Staring into the dark brew she weighed her options. She could simply go on with her plans. Pray that the treatments worked and move on with her life, however it turned out—alone. Or she could pick up her phone, call Ray and ask his forgiveness and tell him that she couldn’t do this without him. She didn’t want to do this without him.
She gripped her coffee cup. She’d spent her entire life beating odds, defying expectations from her family and her colleagues. But it came with a price. She had to keep everyone at a distance in order to maintain the facade that she’d created.
A tear plopped into her mug of coffee. She didn’t want to do it alone anymore.
She picked up her cell phone and this time she let it ring.
“I’m sorry,” she said the instant that the call connected. The seconds ticked away with no response. She felt as if the surf was pounding in her ears. “Ray…please talk to me.”
“I don’t plan on spending any more days or nights without you, J. You either let me in for the long haul or we part ways now. It’s up to you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, fought against the instincts that she’d guarded with all of her being. “I want you in it for the long haul.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He disconnected the call.
* * *
When Raymond pulled up in a cab twenty minutes later, Jacqueline was waiting for him on the stoop, with the forlorn look of the last child to be picked up after school. He’d never felt such a surge of relief and happiness. He paid the driver.
Jacqueline stood as he approached and flung herself against his chest. His arms wrapped around her and lifted her off her feet. His mouth covered hers in a searing kiss that tingled all the way down to her toes.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she murmured against his mouth. Her heart pounded like crazy in her chest.
“It’s going to be all right, baby,” he said, kissing her cheeks, her throat. He ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s going to be all right,” he repeated. Slowly he lowered her to her feet.
Jacqueline looked up into his eyes and saw the truth of his words reflected there. She believed him because she needed to believe him if she was going to get through this. She took his hand and led him inside.
* * *
They wasted no time in reconnecting. They went at each other with a kind of hunger that would not easily be satisfied.
Raymond paid homage to every inch of Jacqueline’s body starting at her ankles. His tiny kisses along the slender bones and sensitive skin sent shivers running up her legs. He slowly and methodically worked his way up, stroking and laving until her blood was on fire. Her insides fluttered like the wings of a bird and when his hot kisses met the back of her knees and the insides of her thighs, bright hot white lights exploded behind her lids.
Her moans were music to his ears. He wanted to conquer her body and soul. He wanted her to let go, really let go and give herself to him—commit.
He parted her thighs and in maddeningly slow degrees he reached her epicenter. He teased, he nibbled, he tenderly suckled her until her cries rose to the cathedral ceilings and wrapped around them in an erotic burst that made her body buck and whine. Her head thrashed back and forth on the thick downy pillow as she gripped the sheets in her fists. She called out to the heavens, but it was Ray who answered her.
He answered her with every caress, every kiss, every whisper of her name. He answered her as he slowly entered her, stopping the air from reaching her lungs. He answered her when he moved deeper and deeper inside and then remained perfectly, crazily still while he filled her. He answered her when he began to move inside her, urging her with each thrust of his hips to join him on this inexplicable ride of pleasure.
And she did. Her pelvis rose hard against him. Her thighs tightened around his waist, binding him tightly to her. She offered up the fruit of her breasts that he feasted on while he cupped the globes of her behind and buried his length to the hilt.
Jacqueline bucked and wound her hips when the pulse began deep in her belly. It was that electric flurry that skims the skin and short-circuits the nerves then erupts in a cascade of pure pleasure. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he drove into her faster and harder, his own climax seconds away. His raw growl of release set her off again and their union exploded in a barrage of unmitigated bliss.
They remained entwined together, their breathing pantlike as they slowly recovered, cooing and stroking each other.
Raymond kissed the top of her damp forehead. “Today is a new day, baby. For both of us.”
She nodded her head in agree
ment against his chest.
“That means you have really got to trust me and I’ve got to remember to give you the space that you need—even when I don’t like it.”
She bit back a giggle and then peeked up at him. “We have to deal with the treatment my way,” she said, all humor gone from her eyes. “I can’t handle it any other way.”
“Sometimes you don’t know what’s best for you,” he countered.
“Maybe not, but I have to do this my way. Promise me.”
He heaved a long, deep breath. “All right. Your way.”
Her taut muscles relaxed. “Thank you.” She brushed her fingertips across his chest. “My first appointment is tomorrow but we have all day to explore the city.”
The morning light streamed in through the long windows reflected in his eyes and made them shine. “I’d go to the end of the earth with you, baby,” he whispered, and captured her lips, binding her to him once again.
* * *
They spent the early part of the morning strolling along the streets near Fifth Avenue, then went across town to the West Village to shop for clothes for Raymond, since it was clear that his stay was going to be much longer than he’d anticipated. They took a cab over to Amsterdam Avenue to Land Thai Kitchen, a place that Ray remembered from one of his trips to New York. He put in a call to Matt, who joined them for a late lunch, and Matt was happy to see that all was apparently back to normal.
Jacqueline was tiring but she didn’t want to say anything to Ray. She followed the banter between the two men and realized how happy—almost giddy—she felt inside, like someone was tickling her and she couldn’t make them stop. She wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize these emotions of simple happiness. She wanted “normal” for as long as possible. But what she was beginning to realize was that her good days were getting shorter and shorter in length. She wouldn’t focus on that. She couldn’t.