Deadly Satisfaction (22 page)

Donetta smiled. “I've loved taking bubble baths since I was a small child. They're so pampering and relaxing. A couple of years ago I was in Atlanta for a hair convention, and on my last night in town I decided to treat myself. I checked into the Ritz-Carlton and ordered champagne and room service. I saw that they had a bath butler service so I ordered it. Let me tell you, that changed my world. It was the most luxurious, soothing bath I'd ever had. I felt like a queen after I got out of that tub. I asked the lady who drew my bath to tell me exactly what she put in it, and I've been luxuriating in style ever since.”

“Donetta, this is the most relaxed I've felt in a long time.” Phillip opened his eyes and smiled. “Thank you for this.”

“It's the least I can do for someone who walked through a snowstorm for me.” She winked and walked over the small slipper chair beside the tub and took a seat. She had to sit carefully because she was still sore. “You could've stayed in the comfort of your home with your family, but instead you braved the weather and risked your life on the dangerous roads, just to see me. Why?”

“I was thinking the same thing while I was climbing out of that damn snow drift,” Phillip said with a laugh as Donetta joined him. He looked at her, and his voice became low and serious. “All I could think about was how much I wanted to see you, to just be in your presence.”

Donetta felt as though she was half-dreaming. The self-help books she'd read, and even a few customers she knew, had said that this kind of thing was possible—that you could meet someone and instantly know they were the one. While she couldn't say that what she now felt for Phillip had been instant, what she absolutely knew was that this was the first time in her life that she'd felt genuinely respected and cared for by a man. As Donetta stared back into Phillip's deep brown eyes, her heart couldn't deny that what she was feeling was love.

Donetta and Phillip talked by wine and candlelight, laughing and sharing more insights into each other's lives. They discussed their likes and dislikes, and she discovered they had more in common than she'd initially thought. She could tell that Phillip was surprised when she told him that she liked sports, and that she could name all the professional teams along with their stats. And she was surprised when she learned that he was a fan of HGTV, and even liked some of the same shows that she did. Then they moved on to more serious subjects, like social issues, and what they wanted for their future, especially in a relationship. This was when Donetta knew she needed to reiterate her point from last night and remind him about what she wanted, flat-out. Even though he'd hinted about a relationship, she wanted to make her position unequivocally clear, and that if he didn't want the same thing, she wouldn't waste her time or his. “I'd like to get married someday,” she said plainly.

“Does ‘someday' mean soon, as in ‘my biological clock is ticking and I need a husband and a baby'? Or ‘someday' as in ‘when the right man comes along we'll take our time and see how it goes'?”

Donetta shifted a bit in her seat at the sound of ticking clocks and babies, neither of which applied to her biological makeup, so she addressed what she felt comfortable saying. “ ‘Someday' means when I find the man I want to spend the rest of my days with, and he feels the same about me. But let me be clear, once that happens, there's no way in hell I intend to wait till infinity with the promise of marriage.”

Phillip raised his brow. “How long is too long? Would you give him an ultimatum if he didn't propose to you on the timeline you have in mind?”

“An ultimatum implies a demand, and I'd never want someone to make a commitment to me unless they wanted to of their own free will.”

“Ahh, free will rears its head again. That's big with you.”

She nodded. “It sure is. It's something we exercise every day, whether we know it or not. Everything is in our power to either do, or not do. At this point in my life, I know what I want, and I don't believe in wasting time. Patience is a virtue, but so is discernment.”

“Discernment of knowing how long is too long?” Phillip questioned.

“I don't want to get hung up on time, but yes. When you apply the wisdom of your intuition to discover what is essential and true, with contemplative vigilance, you gain clarity of the soul.”

“Damn, that's deep.”

“It should be, I got it off the Internet.”

They shared a long hearty laugh. Donetta loved how easy it was to talk about sensitive subjects with Phillip, who didn't judge or debate. He questioned what he didn't know, which showed his willingness to learn, and he stood firm in what he believed, which demonstrated his integrity. She was becoming more and more confident that once she told him her full story, he would be accepting.

“I'd like to get married someday, too,” Phillip said. “And I pretty much agree with everything you said about when the right person comes along.”

Donetta couldn't hide the smile that had formed deep in her insides and had spread to her lips. “Great minds think alike.”

“I definitely want kids,” Phillip said. “I'd like the chance to be a better father to my child than mine was to me.”

“I can't have children,” Donetta said quietly. There was a brief pause filled with silence that hovered over them.

Phillip cleared his throat. “Does it have anything to do with your bleeding this morning?”

“Yes, it does . . . and it's, um, complicated.”

She could tell that Phillip was thinking, and she was scared to ask him what was on his mind. He leaned forward, drank the last sip of his wine, and spoke. “There are lots of children on adoption lists who need loving homes. Family doesn't mean blood, it means love, and as long as I have a partner I can build love with, I'm cool.”

“So it doesn't matter to you if you don't plant your biological seed?”

“What matters to me is that I can raise a son or daughter, maybe both, with love. I don't even speak to my biological father, and I'm closer to my college mentor than I've ever been to the man I'm connected to only through DNA. So no, it's not a big deal.”

Donetta noticed that every time Phillip spoke of his father, it was with disdain, and she wondered what kind of terrible thing the man had done to make Phillip dislike him so much. Unlike him, she hadn't grown up with her parents because they'd both abandoned her when she was a child, and she'd never been close enough to either of them to feel like or dislike. She made a mental note that she wanted to talk more with Phillip about his family. As a matter of fact, she just realized that she knew what he did for a living, where he lived, and what his favorite color was, but she didn't even know his last name. She was about to ask when he leaned forward in the tub and stood up.

“This bath has been great, but the water's getting cold.” He reached for the towel Donetta had draped on the side of the tub. “Let's continue this conversation over that delicious-smelling roast that's been calling my name since I walked through the door.”

P
HILLIP

P
hillip was full, not only from the fork-tender, perfectly seasoned pot roast and noodles that Donetta had cooked and he'd eagerly devoured, but from the satisfying knowledge of realizing that he'd somehow found “the one” without even looking for her.

As he sat next to Donetta at her dining room table, which was decorated with cream-colored candles, elegant plates, and shiny stemware, he once again thought about his mother's words, and how she'd talked about having someone to come home to. He knew that coming home to a beautiful, independent, kindhearted woman who could cook, decorate a house into a home, and completely satisfy him in bed, was something he now desired. He'd had a lot of women over the years, and he'd sown more oats than Quaker. And now he was ready to take everything in his life to another level.

“This meal was delicious,” Phillip said. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

“Thank you. My grandmother used let me help her in the kitchen, and because I love to eat, I learned real fast about what to do to make food taste good.”

“Is there anything you can't do well?”

Donetta put her hand to her head, as if she was in deep thought. “The list is way too long to name.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Flattery will get you anything you want from me.” She laughed and set her cloth napkin on the table. “I really am glad you enjoyed your meal, and I'm especially glad that you're here.”

“Me too.”

“I hope you won't get sick of me, because from the looks of it, you're gonna be here awhile.”

Phillip looked out of the dining room window at the snow that was still falling just as heavily as it had been when he'd been walking in it. “Let's turn on the news and see what they're saying now.”

They sat close together on her couch, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, as they listened to the weather announcer tell them of the reports of ten inches in some areas of Amber, with snow drifts of up to several feet. His thoughts drew his mind to his mother, and the fact that he needed to call her because she was probably worried about him. “I need to call my mother and let her know I didn't end up in a ditch or one of those snowdrifts,” he said.

“Your phone should be charged by now.”

Phillip stood and walked over to the accent table where his phone had been charging since shortly after he'd arrived. When he pressed the button to bring his screen to life it remained black. He plugged it back in again, but nothing happened. “My phone's still dead.”

Donetta walked over to where he was standing. “Let me take a look and see what's wrong.” She jiggled the cord and then plugged it in again, just as Phillip had done. But the screen was still black, and each time she pushed the On button nothing happened.

“There must be something wrong with your charger.” He unplugged and then plugged it in again, but the result was the same.

“I haven't used it in ages,” Donetta said, “because after I switched from Apple to Android, I really had no need to.”

“Can I use your phone?”

“Sure.” Donetta walked over to the coffee table and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” Phillip dialed his mother's cell phone and watched Donetta walk over to the fireplace. She lifted two logs—one at a time—and gently placed them in the fire. He was aroused by the visual image of her smooth, mocha-colored skin draped in brightly colored lingerie. She'd just made a manual task look sexy, and it convinced him that despite her earlier claim, there was nothing she didn't do well. He continued to watch her, enjoying the way her body swayed as she stoked the fire with the poker. He was lost in the moment, until he heard his mother's voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mom, it's me.” He walked over to the couch and took a seat because he knew he might be in for a mild interrogation.

“Phillip?”

“I've only been gone a few hours and already you've forgotten my voice,” he teased. “Of course it's me.”

“Well, I wasn't sure. The caller ID said unavailable, and I usually don't bother answering those calls because most of the time it's a telemarketer. But because your sister told me about your phone battery, and that you decided to risk your life for . . . um, well, I just had a feeling it might be you.”

Phillip knew she'd caught herself just shy of saying he was out chasing a piece of ass, but her genteel manners would never allow her to mouth something so bold. But even though she'd exercised her typical diplomacy, he could tell by his mother's tone that she wasn't pleased. “Yeah, I didn't pack my charger. I'm at my friend's house and I'm using her phone.” He looked over at Donetta, who was now straightening the magazines in the basket next to the couch. He could tell she was trying to appear as if she wasn't listening, but he knew she was taking in every syllable he uttered.

“Your friend has a blocked number?”

“I guess so.”

“Hmmmm.”

He shifted in his seat. “You were asleep when I left, otherwise I would've let you know I was going out.”

“You could've woken me up, Phillip.”

“You had a rough day yesterday and a rough night. Plus after the blowup this afternoon, I figured you needed your sleep. How are you feeling?”

She sighed. “I'm better now that I know you're alive.”

“Yes, Mom. I'm fine. It's just snow.”

“Just snow?” she balked. “Have you been watching the news?”

“I've been out in it.”

“Then you know it's the worst snowstorm we've had in fifty years. They've been reporting accidents all afternoon. I didn't know if you'd been injured. I've been worried sick.”

“No need to worry, I'm fine.”

“Where are you, son?”

He looked over at Donetta, who had now taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch and was thumbing through an
Essence
magazine. “I told you, I'm at my friend's house. We just finished dinner and it was delicious. She can throw down.” He knew for sure that she was listening because she smiled.

“Umm-hmm . . . I bet she can.”

“So, you guys are okay?”

“We're fine. Your sister's upstairs in the shower, and I'm in the kitchen taking out some of the food you bought last night so I can start cooking our Thanksgiving meal.”

“That's right, tomorrow's Turkey Day.”

“Sure is. We'll be here celebrating and you'll be with whomever you're with, wherever you are. Are you even in town?”

“Yes, I'm in Amber, Mom.”

“I'm not trying to get in your business, I just want to make sure you're all right.”

“I'm better than all right. I'm great.” He winked at Donetta, and she smiled again.

“I guess you'll be spending the holiday with her?” his mother asked, even though the answer was obvious.

“Looks like it.” Phillip looked out the living room window at the snow that was continuing to fall. “I barely got here when there was about seven or eight inches on the ground, and now that there's nearly a foot out there, I doubt if I'll be able to get out for at least another day or two.”

She sighed again. “Well, okay. As long as you're safe, and as you said, you're great, that's all that matters.”

“I'll call you tomorrow to check in on you guys. You know, I have to make sure that you and that bullheaded sister of mine are all right. By the way, how is she?”

His mother's sigh grew heavier. “It's a long story. I'll tell you when you come home.”

“Mom, what's wrong?” Phillip leaned forward to the edge of the couch and rubbed his chin. His mother's voice sounded painfully distressed, and he knew whatever was going on couldn't be good. He could see that Donetta felt the same thing because she'd stopped pretending to read her magazine and was staring at him.

“I'll tell you when you come home,” his mother said again. “It's too much to get into over the phone.”

“You can't say something like that and then not tell me. If she's in trouble or something has happened, I need to know.”

“Lauren's pregnant. That's why she dropped out of school.”

Phillip closed his eyes and shook his head. “Is that clown she mentioned the father?”

“Yes, but they're not together anymore.”

“When did this happen? This afternoon she said he was the only one who understood her.”

“She lied. The short part of this long story is that once he found out she was pregnant, he told her she was on her own. But she's not, and she and I have already started planning what her next move is going to be.”

Phillip exhaled deeply. He knew that the road Lauren was getting ready to travel wouldn't be easy, but if anyone could take a bad situation and turn it into something good, it was his mother, and for that reason he felt a little relief.

“Phillip, are you still there?” his mother asked.

“Yeah, I'm here.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm okay, just thinking.”

“That's all I've been doing all evening. Like I said, we'll talk more about it when you come home.”

“Definitely.”

“Speaking of you coming home, am I going to get a chance to meet this one?”

This one!
His mother's words stung, but Phillip knew she was well within her rights to phrase her question the way she did. He looked over at Donetta and smiled, knowing she wasn't
this one
, she was “the one.” She was the first woman he wasn't skeptical about introducing to his mother, and, in fact, he was excited about it because he knew they'd hit it off. “I'm not sure. The weather's going to make it a challenge. But if not now, definitely in the near future.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he said with confidence.

“I have so many questions. But we'll table them until I see you.”

“Okay. Love you, Mom, and I'll call you tomorrow.”

After Phillip hung up, he set Donetta's phone on the coffee table and let out a deep breath.

“I couldn't help but hear,” Donetta said. “Is your sister okay?”

“She's pregnant.”

“I guess that's not a good thing, huh?”

Phillip turned to her. “She dropped out of school, and the father of her baby dumped her.”

Donetta shook her head. “Wow, I'm sorry to hear that.”

“My mom's putting up a strong face, but I know she's so disappointed. My sister had a full scholarship to med school, and now it's down the drain, not to mention she's got to face being a single parent.”

“Your sister was in med school?”

Phillip nodded. “Johns Hopkins.” He looked into Donetta's eyes and knew something was wrong. “Are you okay?”

Donetta put her hand to her mouth. “Is your sister's name Lauren?”

“Yes, how did you know that?” Now Phillip looked just as startled as Donetta was. “Do you know my sister?”

“No, but I think I know your mother.” Slowly, she set her magazine on the table and swallowed hard. “Is your mom Councilwoman Harris?”

Phillip nodded. “Yes, I don't advertise it because when people find out, they always want me to ask her for favors for one thing or another.”

“Sweet baby Jesus in heaven. I can't believe this! I just can't believe this!”

“You're starting to make me nervous,” Phillip said with concern. “What's the deal between you and my mom?”

Donetta rose from the couch and started pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. “I can't believe I didn't put two and two together before now. You live in DC, you're a lawyer, you obviously come from money, and you're home for the holidays. Why didn't I realize who you were before now?”

Phillip stood to his feet and walked over to Donetta. He reached for her hand, but she pulled away and it jarred him. “Who I am is obviously a problem for you, so tell me why—”

“It's not who you are, it's who I am . . . or at least, who I used to be.”

“What are you talking about?”

She took a deep breath. “Let's have a seat. We need to talk.”