Authors: Kayla Perrin
All I Want Is You (27 page)
Gabriel smiled. “And you're cooking?”
“Dinner. Chicken smothered in gravy and onions, rice, collard greens, and corn bread, which reminds me,” she said as she peered into the oven door. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded. “I could eat,” he said, his head bobbing easily above his broad shoulders.
“How about Trey? Do you think he has an appetite?”
Gabriel smiled. “Trey always has an appetite.”
“Good, then why don't you call him down for dinner. The food's ready.”
Gabriel paused to watch as Malisa moved easily around his kitchen. As she pulled the corn bread from the oven, she tossed him an easy smile, the wealth of it warming his bruised spirit.
Moving to her side, he pressed his palm to the small of her back and leaned to kiss her forehead and then her cheek. “I'm glad you're here,” he whispered softly, his gaze locking with hers.
Nodding her understanding, Malisa smiled back. “Go get Trey,” she said, gesturing for him to move. “We're having brownie sundaes for dessert.”
As he stepped out of the room, the two women resumed their assessment of Oprah and Gayle's lifelong friendship. Their comfortable banter made him smile. He felt exceptionally blessed in a way he hadn't thought possible. Trey was coming down the stairs as he was heading up.
“Something smells really good,” the boy said, nervousness wafting over his expression. “I just came to see what was cooking.”
“Malisa made smothered chicken and corn bread, and I'm told there is something really good for dessert.”
Trey smiled. “Can we keep her?”
Gabriel laughed, tousling his son's hair. “I'm going to try, kiddo. I am really going to try.”
Chapter 15
Gabriel lay between Malisa's legs, the woman wrapped around his waist as he rested his head against her torso. The oversized sofa supported them as they reclined in front of the big-screen television, catching up on the nightly news.
As the local weather announcer forecasted another bout of light snow and colder temperatures, Gabriel massaged her feet, gently kneading every ounce of stress from her limbs.
After dinner, the family had spent the rest of the evening simply enjoying each other's company. Malisa had challenged Trey to a game on his Xbox 360, and even though he was on punishment, his father had permitted him a few minutes to show the woman what he could do. After beating her three games to two, he'd excused himself and had gone back to his room, accepting the balance of his punishment without complaint.
Naomi had made date plans with an old flame from high school and had disappeared out the front door shortly after. After stacking the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and packing up the leftover food, the couple had retired to Gabriel's library and the sofa in front of the big-screen television set. It had been an hour and they were still there, still comfortable, still in awe of the depth of feeling that they were having for each other.
Malisa traced her hand across his forehead as she leaned to kiss him. She shifted ever so slightly beneath him.
“I'm not too heavy on you, am I?” Gabriel asked, concern rising in his tone.
“No. Not at all. Are you comfortable?”
“Extremely.”
Malisa draped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him close. “How's your bedroom? Do you need any help getting it clean?”
He shook his head. “No, it's done. It looked worse than it was.”
“I am so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“I feel responsible. None of this would have happened if you and I . . .” She paused.
Gabriel clasped her hand beneath his and kissed the palm of it. “If you and I hadn't met, I wouldn't know how incredibly blessed I am. What Delores did is more about her own unhappiness than anything else. Do not let that spoil what we have between us, please.”
She smiled sweetly, meeting his stare as he looked up at her. “I won't. I promise,” she responded. “Right now, though,” she said, gently pushing him from her, “I need to head home. I have a very long day tomorrow.”
“You can always stay. I do have a spare bedroom that you can have all to yourself.”
Malisa laughed. “And how long would that last?”
He shrugged. “You'd start off there, I'm sure, and then I would probably get lonely and have a bad dream in the middle of the night and you'd have to come comfort me.”
“And then neither of us would get any rest and all of my holiday orders would be a bust.”
“That might happen too.”
She shook her head as she leaned to kiss his mouth. Her lips brushed his, just barely touching, and Gabriel purred, a barely audible “mmmm” spilling out of his mouth. Their lips came together again, gently at first and then with increasing passion, their tongues taking turns probing and receiving.
Malisa pulled away just as she was wanting him to touch her, knowing that it would take very little to have her buck naked and in heat across the cushioned sofa.
Racing from the room, she grabbed her coat and hat out of the hall closet and exited the home. As she pulled her car out of the driveway, Gabriel stood in the entranceway, his hand lost down the front of his slacks, wishing her to come back to him.
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Miss Etta entered her daughter's room with a large basket of freshly washed clothes. Baylor was lost in front of the computer screen atop her desk, barely acknowledging her mother as she twittered back and forth with some stranger the young girl called her friend.
The matriarch shook her head. “Baylor, did you finish filling out that application you need for the summer dance program?”
Baylor shrugged. “Not yet, Mama. I'll get it done.”
“If you really want to go, you will,” her mother said as she carefully placed each stack of clothing into the appropriate drawer. “I am not doing it for you, Baylor. I told you that, so don't miss that deadline.”
“I won't!” Baylor whined, annoyance tinting her words.
Miss Etta raised her eyebrows, a reprimand perched precariously on the tip of her tongue. She bit back the words, opting to save that battle for another day.
She stood watching as Baylor clicked the mouse and navigated from one Web page to another. She had no understanding of the obsession young people had with computers and smartphones. As far as Miss Etta was concerned, the devices had stifled their social skills and made most of them as brain-dead as dry toast. Few knew how to carry on a successful conversation that wasn't peppered with “you know what I'm saying” or “ya know” or “do you hear me?” Only a select few would ever be able to successfully build careers around the darn things, and yet far too many of them felt like it was the end of the world if they couldn't twitter or Facebook with thousands of folks they knew absolutely nothing about.
She'd been threatening to take Baylor's laptop from her for months now, and she knew that if the first report card that came after the holidays did not show a marked improvement in the girl's grades, Baylor Ivey might not ever see another computer again until she was grown and gone from the Ivey homestead.
As she headed toward the door, Baylor called out to her. “Mama, is Malisa here?”
“No. Not yet. I think she had a date with that nice Mr. Whitman.”
Baylor cut an eye at her mother, noting the woman's wide smile at the prospect of her sister being with a man the matriarch wholeheartedly approved of.
Miss Etta winked at her youngest daughter. “If I see her before you head to bed, I'll tell her that you're looking for her.”
“Thank you!” Baylor chimed as she went back to her Internet search.
Shaking her head, Miss Etta exited the room and headed down the hallway to her own bedroom, bemused by the antics of all her children.
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Baylor was anxious to see Malisa before she took off for the bakery. The young girl had set her alarm to go off at the crack of dawn, knowing that if she timed it right, Malisa would be downstairs in the kitchen consuming her first cup of morning coffee. Racing into the room, her arrival was a surprise to all the members of the family, each of them knowing that Baylor slept in late whenever possible. Since there was no school and no reason for her to be wide-eyed and awake, they knew something was seriously amiss.
Miss Etta pressed a palm to her daughter's forehead. “Baylor, baby, are you all right?”
Baylor shook her mother off. “Yes, ma'am. I needed to catch Malisa,” she said as she dropped her laptop onto the kitchen counter.
Malisa had just taken her second sip of morning brew, the hot cup of coffee warming that early morning chill away. She eyed her baby sister with surprise. “What's up? And before you ask, no, you cannot borrow my clothes.”
Baylor shook her head. “I don't want your old clothes. This is serious,” she said, lifting the top to her computer and powering the device on.
Gattis and Etta stared curiously. Anitra and Malisa both moved to stand behind Baylor.
“What is it?” Anitra asked.
Baylor said nothing, pausing as her computer flicked on. The girl typed quickly and waited as a Web site loaded on the screen. “This,” she said, turning the device so both of her sisters could read the screen.
Anitra gasped first, a hand flying up to her mouth in shock. Malisa's eyes widened as she read and reread the words across the page. She reached over her sister and scrolled down the page.
Seeing her daughters' distress, Miss Etta moved to where they stood, leaning to read whatever was causing them all such angst. As she read what they were reading, she could feel the protective mother in her surging to the surface.
“Who would write such a vile thing?” the older woman questioned. “And put it on the Internet?”
“How did you find this?” Malisa asked, turning her gaze to Baylor.
“My friend Sam sent me the link. His dad found it. Apparently, they Googled you when he found out you were my sister. But it gets worse, Malisa,” Baylor said, typing a second time.
Malisa watched as her sister pulled up the Goggle search engine and typed in her name. Scanning the headings on the list of articles about her, it appeared that almost overnight, the Internet, which had been one of her best marketing tools, was no longer her friend.
Malisa was shaking as she dialed the New York telephone number of her publicist, Charles Dwayne. She knew it was early, but she had no fear of waking him up. She knew the man had been up even earlier than she had. He answered on the first ring.
“Malisa, do not panic, baby!”
“Charles, have you seen it?”
“It came across my desk late last night. Do you have any idea who would have written it?”
Malisa heaved a deep sigh, meeting her mother's gaze as her whole family stood staring at her. “Yes,” she said, the response a loud whisper. “I can't be positive, but I have an idea.”
The man on the other end shook his head. “Now listen to me carefully. I am going to make this go away as quickly as I can. So I don't want you to panic. If anyone in the media calls for an interview, refer them to me. Don't even bother to say you have no commentâjust hang up. Is that clear?”
“Yes. Has the network seen it yet?”
“Probably, but don't you worry about them either. I have a call in to your attorney, so he's already in the loop. I assure you that this will just feel bad for a moment; then it will go away as if it never happened. There is far more good publicity out there about you than there is bad.”
Although Charles Dwayne was trying to be comforting, Malisa wasn't finding an ounce of assurance in his words. As she disconnected the call, her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her shoulders, whispering into her daughter's ear as she hugged her tightly.
“We're all right here for you, baby. Everything is going to be just fine.”
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Gabriel turned on his computer before he headed into the bathroom for his morning shower. He had a long list of things he needed to accomplish before the day was done, and first on the agenda was going through his e-mails. He hadn't looked at an e-mail since Christmas Eve, and he could only begin to imagine the number of responses that needed to be made.
As his computer booted up, he scrolled through his iPhone. There were almost fifty-four text messages that beckoned for his attention. At least forty of them had come from Delores. Gabriel deleted each one, in no mood for his ex-wife's antics.
Signing into his mailbox, an even lengthier list of messages awaited his consideration. One hundred eighty-seven of them, to be exact. His attention was drawn to the fact that each one listed Malisa's name in the subject line. The sender's name for every one read
Anonymous
. He clicked the first message, and the message linked him to a Web site, also titled with Malisa's name. He clicked the link, then settled back in his seat and waited for the page to load.
Anonymous
. He clicked the first message, and the message linked him to a Web site, also titled with Malisa's name. He clicked the link, then settled back in his seat and waited for the page to load.
The Web site was titled
THE REAL MALISA IVEY
. A dozen or more promotional photos of Malisa graced the page. They made Gabriel smile as he thought about the woman who had come to mean so much to him. And then his smile faded as he began to read the text. His phone rang as he was rereading the hateful words for the third time. Delores's number was reflected on the caller ID.
THE REAL MALISA IVEY
. A dozen or more promotional photos of Malisa graced the page. They made Gabriel smile as he thought about the woman who had come to mean so much to him. And then his smile faded as he began to read the text. His phone rang as he was rereading the hateful words for the third time. Delores's number was reflected on the caller ID.
He answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Are you ready to talk to me yet?”
“Why did you do this, Delores?”
“Do what?”
“You know what. Why would you smear Malisa's name like that?”
“I don't know what you're talking about, but if I did do something to that woman, she deserved it. I don't take kindly to anyone messing with my son or my family. You know how protective I am of Trey, and Malisa Ivey is not a good influence on my child. I don't lay down for her kind of foolish mess.”
“Well, I can assure you, Delores, that Trey isn't going to take kindly to your foolish mess either. He likes Malisa. I'm not sure your son likes you. You may very well have damaged your relationship with Trey beyond any kind of repair.”
There was silence on the other end. Gabriel could hear her breathing heavily.
“Well, like I said, I didn't do anything.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Delores, this has your fingerprints all over it. And I hate that you would stoop so low.”
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