Breaking All My Rules (10 page)

Twenty minutes later and fresh from the shower, Jerome set the alarm clock beside his bed and settled in for a nap. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought about the surprised look that he knew would come to Jamel's face when he opened the gift he'd gotten him, his very own checkbook, linked to an account with his name on it that had $250 as its balance.

“That's my boy,” Jerome whispered to himself. He turned over, doubled his thin pillow beneath his head, and closed his eyes, preparing to drift off into the clouds. As his thoughts faded to a faraway sleep land, the last thing his waking mind remembered was seeing a beautiful woman standing before him in a bright red dress.

Chapter 9

I
t was early afternoon, and Erica was immersed in her usual Sunday routine, sitting at her desk, going over paperwork so she could get a jump on the week ahead. She was trying to take her mind off deadlines, swag bags, and her frustration about her lonely love life.

Ever since Friday night she'd been thinking about the endearing image she had seen—Ashley and Jason walking hand in hand off into the distance. It was a moment that had touched her and made her heart fill with happiness for her best friend. But it had also struck a chord of melancholy within her soul when she thought about the fact that out of all the men she'd dated, she couldn't think of a single relationship that had made her feel the love expressed in Ashley and Jason's simple gesture.

“Just once, I'd like to know love,” Erica whispered, feeling a sorrowful catch in her throat.

But she knew she couldn't sit around moping and feeling sorry for herself, so she turned her thoughts from what she wanted and aimed them toward what she needed to do. She had to get to work so she could smooth out the problems at Opulence that would be facing her this week. In addition to tackling the issue with the swag bags, she had to conduct interviews so she could replace the employee who had quit last week without notice.

An hour later, Erica was still busy working when her phone rang, jolting her from the stack of papers on her desk. Her face lit up when she saw that it was Ashley. She hadn't spoken with her friend since their near-disastrous girls' night out at Vidalia. She had been wanting to know how the rest of the evening played out after they left the restaurant, but she knew she needed to give Ashley time to recalibrate and sort things out in her mind.

“How's it going?” Erica asked, bypassing her usual hello.

“Honestly, I'm really not sure.”

Ashley explained that she and Jason had gone back to his house and had spent the rest of the night talking about the reality of their present and their hopes for their future—together. They had verbalized some hard truths and had revealed some deep-seated insecurities and hang-ups about race, family, and expectations on both their parts. By the time the sun rose the next morning, they were lying in each other's arms with a mixture of hope and trepidation for what they were about to get themselves into.

“Sounds like you two are approaching things the right way,” Erica said. “Being up-front and honest now will save you a lot of heartache on the back end.”

“Yes, and that's what I'm worried about. The back end. I'm not sure there's going to be one.”

“Do you love him? I mean, really, really love him?”

Ashley took a moment, pausing as she let out a long, heavy sigh. “Jason is the only man I've ever been with who's made me even consider the idea of marriage, let alone make a formal commitment to do it. So yes, I love him. But I also know that it takes more than just love to make a marriage work.”

Erica nodded on her end of the phone. “I'm convinced that everything happens for a reason, and even though that incident Friday night was messy, it spurred a conversation that you two obviously needed to have.”

“That's the same thing I was thinking. And, Erica, I want to thank you for what you said to me. I needed to hear those words and reaffirm who I am.”

“You're a fantastic person, and I hope you know that.”

“Of course I do! And by the way, you left out that I'm awesome, beautiful, and fierce!” Ashley laughed. “But all jokes aside, sometimes we can lose sight of things . . . lose our way. Sometimes we have to be reminded of how special we are. Girl, I'm so glad you did that for me.”

“I'm always gonna have your back, just like you always have mine. You helped me through everything that happened with Claude, and I'll never be able to repay you for that.”

Ashley let out an exasperated breath. “I still can't believe his fake ass had the nerve to slither up to our table while he was on a date, and then lie about it.”

“Well, he did eventually come clean and admit that she was more than a colleague.”

“Yeah, but only after you busted him for trying to front. Deceitful bastard!”

“I'm sorry I mentioned his name.”

“That makes two of us. And while we're on the subject—”

Erica cut her off in mid-sentence. “Before you say another word or ask again, I'm over him for real. I just get lonely sometimes. But I'm not walking back across that bridge. He's clearly moved on, and I need to as well.”

“When, Erica?”

“Now.”

Ashley sucked her teeth and sighed again. “How can you do that when you won't even make time to clear your schedule for a date, or go out someplace where you'll meet someone?”

“I told you about everything that's going on at Opulence and the deadline I'm under for Fashion Week. I need to take care of business first. Then I'll worry about finding a date.”

“At the end of the day everything is going to work out just fine. The swag bags will be a tremendous hit, you'll get beaucoup orders from coast to coast for Paradise, which will become the hot new must-have beauty item, you'll be featured in a national magazine that'll have a big picture of you cheesin' in front of Opulence, and guess what?”

“What?” Erica asked excitedly, thinking about all the great things that were about to come.

“After all the accolades and frenzy, you'll end up doing exactly what I know you're doing right now, which is sitting behind that big ol' desk in your home office on a lonely afternoon, all by yourself, with no one to share your accomplishments with except your spreadsheets.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Ouch, Ash. That really hurt.”

“It was supposed to. You need tough love, and I'm going to give it to you because I love you.” Ashley paused before she said her next words. “Please don't live a life full of regrets. You're much too brilliant and fabulous to fall into that trap.”

 

 

That evening, as Erica sat on her couch, eating a bowl of mint chocolate-chip ice cream all by herself, she thought long and hard about her life, and it occurred to her that she didn't like being alone. During the day, when she was out and about at Opulence, attending meetings, running errands, or hanging out with friends, she was surrounded by liveliness and fun. But when she came home to her castle of a row house in the trendy Dupont Circle neighborhood at the end of the day, there was nothing. No one to talk to. No one to laugh with. And no one to hold.

“I've got to make a change,” Erica whispered aloud. She rose from the couch and dumped her ice cream down the sink before heading upstairs to her bedroom.

After a quick shower she was in bed, setting her alarm clock. She knew that change could be unpredictable and full of ups and downs, so if she was going to start a new journey, she needed a good night's sleep to prepare for it. She turned onto her side and snuggled her head against her fluffy pillow as she drifted off into dreamland, envisioning a new life for herself and the beautiful Great Dane, whom she hoped would be a part of it.

Chapter 10

E
rica rose from bed before her alarm had a chance to make a sound. She was glad that on this predawn Monday morning, her excitement, rather than a wretched nightmare, had called her from her slumber. In fact, she was so eager for the day to begin that she practically leapt out of bed. Starting off the day with hope instead of night sweats was a welcome change.

Erica had been secretly excited about today since last Friday afternoon, but she'd refused to acknowledge it or give in to the emotion until her phone conversation with Ashley yesterday afternoon.

Ashley's pointed yet caring words were still lingering in Erica's mind as she walked into her kitchen and turned on her coffee machine. Instead of thinking about Claude and lamenting their failed relationship, she thought about the tall, dark, handsome stranger she'd encountered last week. Knowing she would see him again in just a few hours made her tingle inside. But then, suddenly, her smile went flat when she thought about something that until now had not crossed her mind. There was a very real possibility that he had a girlfriend, or maybe even a wife.

“Damn!” Erica hissed aloud.

She didn't remember seeing a wedding band on his finger, but she knew that didn't mean a hill of beans. Plenty of married men walked around not wearing their wedding ring. But even if he wasn't married, she knew that a man as chocolaty handsome and devastatingly fine as the Great Dane probably had more women than he could handle. There were plenty of women out there who were still into man sharing and wouldn't mind splitting his time with others so long as they got their slice.

“What was I thinking?” Erica asked herself. She finished her coffee and slowly walked back to her bedroom. She felt slightly disappointed, but she knew she had to keep the faith, because even if the beautiful Great Dane wasn't the man for her, there was someone out there who was.

 

 

Erica strode with focus, her head held high, as she made her way toward the jury room. She was glad that she was the first juror to arrive. She was always prompt in everything she did, a character trait she had inherited from her father. She knew that being there bright and early would give her time to settle in, compose her thoughts, and prepare for the day ahead, and more important, it would allow her to buttress her resolve to keep her desire for the Great Dane in check.

Erica looked up when she heard the door open.

“Well, look at us. Aren't we the early birds!” the old woman practically chirped as she walked inside. She took a seat right beside Erica, smelling like lavender talcum powder. “I didn't get a chance to formally introduce myself last week. My name is Maudelene Feinstein, but my friends call me Maude.”

Erica smiled and extended her hand. “I'm Erica Stanford. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Maude.”

“Likewise. I know you're not too excited about being here, but I sure am. I've been looking forward to this all weekend. It's gonna be so interesting.”

“I hope you're right.”

Maude winked. “Honey, I know I am. Matter of fact, I bet there'll be just as much excitement in this jury room as there will be in the courtroom.”

Erica raised her brow.

“From my thirty-five years of experience in the classroom, I know what happens when you put a bunch of different people together in one room. Everyone has a different opinion, and everyone thinks theirs is right. What will make this interesting is that we all have to come to the same conclusion. You can't help but have some excitement from that.”

Erica nodded in agreement. “I hadn't thought about it that way, Ms. Maude. I guess you're right.”

Erica and Maude continued to chat as one by one, the other jurors slowly began to fill the small room, taking their places around the conference table set for twelve. Each time the door opened and a new person walked in, Erica felt her heart jump a tiny bit, thinking it might be him. And each time it wasn't, she felt a small tug in her stomach, mixed with something she couldn't place. Finally, nearly twenty minutes after the time they were supposed to have arrived for duty, the Great Dane walked through the heavy wooden door.

Although Erica had been bracing herself for his entrance and willing her emotions to remain calm, he managed to hijack the breath straight out of her lungs. Her heart quickened with excitement. Her hands trembled with anticipation. And despite her best efforts to control them, she felt the same butterflies that had stirred inside her when she first laid eyes on him last Friday.

She watched the beautiful man as he walked into the room, slow and self-assured, as if he were right on time and not a minute late. His bold confidence made her smile to herself as she leaned back in her chair, taking inventory of him.

Today he wore tan khakis that moved with him when he walked, fitting every inch of his tight behind and long legs like a man's pants should, not too loose and not too tight, but oh, so right! His crisp white shirt was tucked into his pants, exposing a slim waistline, which she knew had to contain a sexy six-pack. He switched his black jacket from his left arm to his right as he moved through the tight space around several chairs. He glanced around the room, looking for a seat, until he found the last empty one.

Erica glanced down at her watch and once again thought about her father's take on men who didn't wear one. She noticed that the Great Dane's wrist was still bare, and that his tardiness didn't seem to faze him one bit. She didn't want to discount him, but already things weren't looking good.
Damn!
she thought.

“Good morning,” the Great Dane said, nodding his greeting to everyone before claiming the seat at the end of the long conference table.

Erica watched him as he scanned everyone, and when his eyes finally connected with hers, she felt a jolt of energy that her morning cup of coffee couldn't match. And his voice! It was the first time she'd heard him speak, and his simple “good morning” sounded like thunder and music all at once. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and locked it into her memory for safekeeping. She'd always listened to her father's wise words, but she decided this was one case in which she was going to forfeit his advice. She had always trusted her gut, and right now her gut was quietly telling her to take a chance.

Once everyone was assembled, they quickly went around the room and introduced themselves. Jerome Kimbrough was his name.
Jerome,
she said to herself, rolling his name around inside her head.

Erica thought his name suited him perfectly. Jerome was a bad boy name, rugged and tough with a biting edge of sexiness. And Kimbrough sounded like a strong family name, uncommon and distinctive. She thought all these things were exactly who he appeared to be, and she wondered if she would get a chance to find out for sure.

Minutes later, the court clerk began to line up the jurors, preparing them for the order in which they would enter the courtroom. Ironically, Erica stood sandwiched between Maude, who was in front of her, and Jerome, who was causing earthquakes and tidal waves behind her. They were in the hallway just outside the courtroom, waiting to make their entrance so the trial could begin.

Erica was glad to have the old woman's bubbly, enthusiastic energy to balance out the unsettling, if not intense heat she felt from just being near Jerome. As he stood behind her, close enough to reach out and touch her shoulder, she hoped she would be able to contain the wanton desires that kept surging through her body. It was one thing to think about him, but it was another thing entirely to have to sit next to him in a jury box all day long.

She tried to focus her mind on the instructions the court clerk had given them and on the task at hand, which was a huge responsibility. They were charged with determining whether a woman would walk free or be locked away for five to ten years. Erica hoped that civic charge of duty would help her concentrate her thoughts on where they needed to be.

A few minutes later, Erica and the other jurors were seated inside the jury box, listening to the opening arguments from both the prosecution and the defense. Right away, she knew that Ms. Maude was correct—this was going to be an interesting trial.

The unlikely defendant was a short, mildly attractive African American woman of considerable girth who appeared to be in her mid-thirties. Erica watched the woman as she pushed her small glasses up the faint bridge of her wide nose, looking frightened behind her thick lenses. Her hands looked as though they were shaking as she raked her stubby fingers through her long hair weave, which was a bit of a mess. Looking at her, Erica couldn't imagine the timid woman jaywalking, let alone committing a felony.

The woman stood accused of embezzling three hundred thousand dollars from her employer, Allsource Inc., a large consulting firm that specialized in representing government hospital insurance claims. She had been hired by the firm two years ago as a case manager in their patient advocacy department. Her position was one in which she worked from home on a company-issued laptop and was paid by billing the firm for her time, which they calculated from the weekly time sheets she submitted. She recorded the number of hours she worked each week, whether it was more or less than the standard forty. And therein was the problem.

The defendant's time sheets showed excessive overtime, earning her well over three hundred thousand dollars in the last two years, and that was in addition to her modest fifty-five-thousand-dollar-a-year salary. There had apparently been no oversight of office procedures or forms, but when a new CEO was appointed last year, everything changed. A probe had been conducted in relative secret so as not to alert any wrongdoers. Once enough evidence had been gathered, they moved in and started making arrests, and that was how the defendant found herself staring down a possible decade-long prison sentence.

What made the defendant's situation even more serious was that not only was she charged with dozens of counts of embezzlement, they were federal charges because she'd submitted her time sheets electronically.

Erica crossed her legs, perched her small writing pad on her thigh, and began to take notes. She tried to concentrate on listening to the current witness on the stand. She wanted to absorb as many details as she could. But she found it difficult to focus because her mind kept moving to her right, just six inches away, where Jerome sat by her side.

She inhaled deeply, letting the sensual musk scent of his cologne tickle her nose and excite her senses. She wanted to lean over, nestle up to the side of his neck, and breathe. Erica knew that she was attracted to him, for sure. But until that very moment she hadn't realized how much she wanted him. Then another thought occurred to her. She was enthralled by him, but she wondered what he thought of her. Beyond their brief stares and slight smiles, she couldn't tell if he was attracted to her, or if he was just being polite.

Erica knew she was an attractive woman. She'd been told that enough to know it was true, plus her mirror gave her living proof every day. She had the kind of face that men found beautiful and the kind of body that made them take a second, and sometimes third, look. She was smart, kind, and successful, all attributes that went above the superficial surface of her obvious good looks. These things made her confident in her ability to attract a man.

She didn't doubt that Jerome had taken notice of her beauty, but she wondered if a man like him would be interested in a woman like her. Judging from what she'd observed of him, she wasn't so sure she was his type. She had deduced that he was definitely a blue-collar, low-maintenance kind of brother—given the type of clothes he wore, his lack of accoutrements, and the subtle gangsta street swagger he exuded—which probably made him more comfortable with women of his same social ilk.

This is one time I hope my analytical mind is way off base,
Erica thought. There was something about this man that she liked, and she wanted him to like her, too.

She shifted her body in her seat, silently examining herself. She brushed a small speck of lint from the hem of her slim black pencil skirt and adjusted the sleeve of her off-white blouse. She looked down at her red manicured toes, which teased the open space of her black patent leather peep-toe heels. She thought her outfit looked good, and that her double-strand cultured pearl necklace, medium-size silver hoop earrings, and diamond tennis bracelet, which her father had given her five years ago for her thirtieth birthday, all accessorized her clothes nicely. Her outfit was simple with a hint of sexy, but she wondered if Jerome thought so, too. Erica sighed to herself, hoping he did.