A Little Bit Naughty (6 page)

“Okay, ladies.” She clapped her hands together. “Take a few minutes to look these over, and then we’ll get to the fun stuff…the kind that vibrate.”

Another round of catcalls resounded around the room.

As the women perused the products, Jada walked over to the refreshment table at the far end of the large den.

Monique Walker, her hostess for tonight’s party, walked up to her. “This is so much fun, Jada. Thanks for coming all the way out here.”

“It was no problem at all.” Based on the number of orders she’d taken already, the commission she would make on tonight’s Naughty Nights party would more than cover the expense of traveling nearly an hour from Maplesville. “It looks as if the ladies are having a good time,” she added.

“I knew they would.” Monique grinned. She leaned in closer and whispered, “You know, I wasn’t sure about that swing when you showed it to us at Joelle’s bachelorette party, but after hearing Valencia, I may just have to give it a shot. I’ll just make sure to put 911 on speed dial,” Monique said with a laugh.

Her mention of 911 instantly conjured up the call Jada had made yesterday, and a shudder of need swept through her. It had become a common occurrence whenever her mind even tiptoed in the vicinity of thoughts about Mason and their sexually-charged exchange.

She had pretty much convinced herself that their near-kiss had been the result of Mason bumping his head and experiencing a slight touch of concussion-induced insanity. She still hadn’t figured out exactly why she had been ready to return his kiss. If Kiera’s call hadn’t interrupted them, she would be standing here right now with intimate knowledge of the way Mason Coleman tasted.

Another shudder shimmied down her spine.

“Get a grip,” Jada mumbled. She swiped a couple of carrot sticks from the vegetable tray before rejoining the party. She wandered over to a glass-topped sofa table where several women were looking over the flavored oral gels, massage oils, and edible body paint. Jada explain how to use the items and deftly dodged questions about which one her man preferred. The hardest part about this job was trying to sell items to women who expected her to have full knowledge of how everything worked. It was embarrassing to admit that she didn’t have anyone to try them out with.

She shut down the mental image of Mason before it could firmly take root. She would
not
go there.

Jada clapped her hands to get the room’s attention. “Are we ready to play the ‘Can You Guess the Lube Flavor’ game?”

The doorbell rang and Monique waved at her to continue as she stood to answer the door. But before Jada could continue with the party game there was a loud squeal at the door.

Monique interrupted, calling, “Ladies, ladies! The newlywed is here. Jada, you should make a
lot
of money off of her.”

Jada looked up to find the new Mrs. Eric Pearce walking through the front door.

Rage, raw and primitive in its intensity, gripped her. She managed to quickly rein it in, counting it as a small victory that she didn’t immediately go all
Real Housewives of Atlanta
on Nikki Pearce. At least she was starting to show some growth from the woman who burned her ex-husband’s clothes on the front lawn.

Monique and Nikki joined the rest of them in the den and Jada took a measure of satisfaction in seeing how uncomfortable her ex-husband’s new wife seemed.

Willing her voice to remain cool, Jada said, “Hello Nikki.”

“Uh, hi Jada,” she answered.

“Oh, you know Nikki?” Monique asked.

 With a smile that she knew had no choice but to look fake, Jada said, “Why don’t we get this out in the open?” She gestured to the other woman. “Nikki’s new husband is my ex-husband.”

The awkward silence that came over the room was akin to a funeral more than a fun Girl’s Night Out party.

Jada put her hands up. “It’s not a problem for me. Is it one for you, Nikki?”

She shook her head. “No. No it isn’t.”

The girl could not be more than twenty-years-old. Eric really should be taken out to a field and shot like a rabid dog.

“Okay, then. Let’s get back to the naughty stuff,” Jada said, still wearing that fake smile that was starting to make her jaws hurt. Continuing with this Naughty Nights party ranked up there with wearing underwear made out of poison ivy leaves on the list of things she most wanted to do, but Jada soldiered on.

She deserved a Golden Globe, or better yet, to be canonized into Sainthood, for the way she was able to maintain her affable facade as she suffered through the women joking about Nikki using the different sex toys with her new husband. Jada laughed and snickered with the rest of them as she mentally counted down the minutes until she could wrap this party up.

She was so close, so very, very close to making it through the night with her emotional well-being intact…until Nikki dropped a bomb that imploded her world.

Holding up the Naughty Swing by its leather-covered swing chains, Jada asked who would be brave enough to buy it.

With a cagey smile, Nikki rubbed her belly and said, “I don’t think that’s safe for a pregnant woman.”

All of the women squealed, showering Nikki with hugs and well-wishes.

Jada attempted to offer congratulations, but her ability to consume bad shit and grin only went so far. This was the kind of blow that took everything out of her.

She turned to Monique. “Can you take the last few orders for me? I need to run to the restroom.”

On shaky legs, she made her way to the hall bathroom. The minute she closed the door, silent sobs poured out of her. She covered her face with her hands and slid down the door, crumbling in a heap on the floor.

She could deal with everything else—the raunchy jokes about Nikki and Eric using the sex toys, the infuriating knowledge that her ex-husband was apparently much more attentive in bed with his new wife than he had ever been with her—but not this. News that Eric would be a father, after all the years of her trying and never being able to carry a pregnancy to term, was too much for her emotionally-drained mind to withstand.

Jada hugged her arms around her waist, unable to stop the pain radiating from her womb.

It was just so incredibly unfair. Hadn’t she been through enough this past year? The total annihilation of her marriage, losing her job, having to give up her home and the life she knew. And now this?

How many times had she dreamed of lying in a hospital bed cradling Eric’s child in her arms while he stood at her side, the proud, boasting new father? She’d come close twice, but her dream never made it past the first trimester. Now Eric would get his baby, and she would be left with nothing. It had become a sad, reoccurring commentary over the past year.

Jada forced herself to stand. She splashed water on her face, patting it dry with a hand towel. She stared at herself in the mirror for several more moments. She wanted to make sure there were no lingering signs of her mental breakdown.

When she returned to the den, many of the party attendees were packing up and preparing to leave.

Monique walked up to her, order forms in hand. “I have some orders, but others took down the website so they can go over the products with their husbands. I passed out the business cards with your consultant number to be sure you get the commission.”

“Thanks,” Jada said. “And thanks again for hosting a party. If you know of any other friends or colleagues who may want to host one, give them my card. I’m more than willing to travel outside of Maplesville.”

“I will,” Monique said. She bit her bottom lip, and in a lowered voice, said, “And I’m sorry about Nikki. I swear I had no idea.”

Jada waved off her concern. “Don’t worry about it. Really, it’s fine.”

“You’re more understanding than I would be,” Monique said. “My sister said the rumor around the office is that Nikki was dating her husband before he was even divorced.”

“The rumor would be true,” Jada said. “Which makes me the luckiest one of the three, don’t you think?” She smiled and went over to pack up her travel bag.

By the time she rolled the suitcase out to her car and loaded it in the trunk, Jada felt as if she would crack into a million pieces with just the slightest touch. Tonight had just been
too much
!

She waved goodbye to Monique and backed out of the driveway. The tears started flowing down her cheeks before she reached the stop sign at the head of the street, and by the time she drove onto the highway the torrent was coming so fiercely that she had to drive one-handed, the other too busy wiping away tears.

She cried until her chest hurt. She cried like she had not cried in over a year, since the night Eric had given her an ultimatum after they’d made love: either allow him to see the woman he had been sleeping with behind her back, or give him a divorce. She cried as much as she’d cried both times she’d received the crushing news from the ultrasound technician, telling her there was no heartbeat.

Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, she cried until her throat was raw with it. She’d remained strong as long as she could; she was due this cry.

Her car jerked and sputtered, then started to lose acceleration.

“What the…” Jada wiped her face and looked at the dash. “Oh, God. No,” she moaned.

The car jerked again.

“Dammit!” She banged her fist on the steering wheel before guiding the car to the shoulder of the highway.

She was out of gas.

She folded her hands on the crest of the steering wheel and dropped her head on it. How else had she expected tonight to end?

Maybe if she hadn’t been crying her eyes out, she would have remembered to put gas at the filling station she’d spotted on her way to Monique Walker’s house.

“Dammit!” Jada said again.

She pulled up the number for AAA in her phone and dialed. She quickly hung up, remembering that she had not renewed her membership, considering it a luxury she could no longer afford. Funny how quickly a luxury turned into a necessity.

She pitched her head back against the headrest, trying to decide which of her friends would be able to refrain from shouting
“I told you so”
in her ear. Probably Callie.

Of course, calling Callie had its disadvantages. Ever since she’d started dating her new boyfriend, Stefan, she was nothing but sunshine and roses. It was sometimes hard for Jada to rein in her envy, which made her feel like a total bitch for begrudging her friend’s happiness.

Just as she was about to call Kiera, a car pulled up behind her.

“Oh, shit,” she murmured. She hit the automatic door locks and positioned her fingers over the keypad so that she could dial 911 if necessary. She kept her eyes on her rearview mirror, her heart pounding as the driver’s side door opened. The interior of the dark car lit up and Jada let out another groan.

“Seriously? Of all people?”

Her heart continued the rapid hammering as Mason walked up alongside her car. She pressed the down button, bracing herself for his censure as the window descended.

“Car trouble?” he asked.

“Do you stop for all stalled vehicles on the side of the road?” she asked. “How did you know I wasn’t some crazy serial killer who pretends to have car trouble to lure his victims?”

“I considered that for a moment, but I figured serial killers don’t have shiny, metallic Hello Kitty bumper stickers that you can see from a mile away even in the dark.”

“Good point,” she drawled. “And it’s not car trouble; I ran out of gas.
Please
, don’t tell your sister. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You do realize that’s one of the easier car problems to prevent, right?”

Jada rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “Please, Mason. Tonight is not the night for a lecture.” She dropped her hands and sighed. “Not tonight.”

Mason reached inside and unlocked her car door. “Come on. I’ll drive you to a filling station and get a portable gas can. That’ll get you enough gas to get back to the filling station so that you can fill your tank.”

He opened her car door and the cabin was awash in light.

“Jada, what’s wrong?” Mason fell to his hunches and captured her chin in his fingers. “You’ve been crying.”

She ducked her head and wiped at her cheeks. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“If that was the case you wouldn’t have tracks down your cheeks.”

“I’m fine, Mason. Really,” she insisted, but her shaky voice betrayed her. Jada bit her trembling bottom lip, but she no longer possessed the strength to hold it all in. The dam broke again.

She dropped her chin to her chest and allowed the tears to fall with singular abandon.

She felt Mason reach over her and feel around for the keys. He took them out of the ignition, then he wrapped an arm around her back.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll bring you home.”

“No.” Jada shook her head as she got out of the car. “Just take me to the filling station.”

“I’m not letting you drive home in this condition.”

“It’s not as if I’m drunk, Mason.”

“Crying your eyes out while you’re trying to drive is just as bad. Your car will be fine until tomorrow morning. Come on.”

Jada hesitated for only a moment before reaching in to grab her purse from the floorboard on the passenger side.

As they walked to his car, her footsteps halted.

“One second,” she said as she used her key fob to open the trunk.

She’d paid too much money for the consultant package to chance someone breaking into her car and stealing it. She reached in for the travel case, but Mason stepped around her and grabbed it. His other hand went to the small of her back as he escorted her to his car and held the passenger door open for her. Once she’d slipped by him, he closed the door and deposited the travel case on the backseat.

Jada just stared at him as he walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side. His navy blue suit must have been tailored because nothing off the rack could fit so perfectly.

He got behind the wheel, but left the door slightly ajar, preventing the overhead light from shutting off. Jada was tempted to reach above her head and turn it off manually. She could only imagine how blotchy and puffed up her eyes must look after the crying fest she’d been engaged in for the past forty minutes.