Every Woman Needs a Wife (17 page)

His mother? Romping around naked on the beach with some man? Good Lord!

Having depleted the last of his cash, Vernon had little options. Parking the U-Haul in the lot at the office, hoping that the regular security guard would come on duty and let him in, Vernon yanked the blanket over his shoulders and curled up for another cold night.

B
randi stretched out on the solarium sun lounger, reading
When Somebody Loves You Back
, hoping the Mary B. Morrison novel would take her mind off her husband. Though it was an exceptional read, the steamy sex scenes only served to make her want to sprint to the nearest dildo. She missed her husband already. How arrogant for him to believe that showing up in a U-Haul would make her change her mind and take him back. If she made things that easy, he’d do it again. No, she and her little toys would continue to be best friends for a while until Vernon got the message. But then again, he’d always been arrogant, so she couldn’t expect him to learn quickly. His arrogance almost caused her to overlook him in the first place.

♥♥♥

What was Morehouse doing to those men?
Brandi thought as she and Avie cut in front of Fisk’s administration building, trying to get to her dorm room at Crosswaite Hall. Confidence was one thing, but arrogance that boded on a superiority complex was a total waste of manhood—and every one of the Morehouse Seven had it. They came up every other weekend now, working with the spring line of pledges, and wreaked havoc with the female population the moment they stepped on campus. Fisk men had a southern gentleman edge laced with a Chicago cool that she found attractive. Michael Cobb was the man for her. Vernon had a touch of bad
boy, reminding her a bit of Hollywood—a type she’d vowed to stay as far away from as possible. Vernon made that practically impossible. He and the Morehouse Seven showed up for all the parties in Jubilee Hall. Thanks to having a party animal for a roommate and best friend, Brandi showed up for the parties more than she wanted.

Vernon sprinted across the lawn, catching up with her and Avie before the girls reached Crosswaite. “So what’s up, baby?”

“Nothing but education,” Brandi said, giving him a cursory glance. He wore a Morehouse T-shirt over his muscular frame, and a pair of jeans that fit his butt in a way that said, “Touch at your own risk!” He was enough to make any woman spread ’em like Imperial margarine.

“So when are you going to let me take you to dinner?”

Brandi shrugged, but didn’t break her stride. “Monday. Monday’s good for me.”

Avie let out a little chuckle.

Vernon’s thick eyebrows drew in. “But I’ll be back in Atlanta by then.”

Brandi grinned and gave him a little wink.

“Oh, take the dagger out of my heart, woman,” he said, jerking his fist away from his chest. “You’re killing me!”

“You’ll get over it.”

He reached out and swiped the books from her hand. “Why do you think I keep coming up here?”

“Because you have nothing better to do with your time or money.”

“No, I want you and I’ve never hidden that fact,” he said softly. “Even that giant-sized Fiskite hasn’t scared me off.”

She stopped walking. “Michael?”

“Is that his real name? We call him monster. He told me if I hurt you, he’ll slice off my balls and serve them up two days later for Sunday brunch.”

“Ooooo.” Brandi gleefully rubbed her hands together. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

“Why are you so cold to me?”

“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your big head and the fact that you and your crew think that you’re better than everyone else.”

He grinned. “What’s wrong with being confident?”

“That’s not confidence! That’s arrogance. You don’t allow anyone else to admire what’s good about you. I have a huge problem with that.”

“Okay. So what
do
you admire about me?”

Avie looked over at him and shook her head. “You don’t want her to tell the truth on that one.”

“Try me.”

Brandi shrugged and said. “I admire your gorgeous rear end.”

He perked up with a cheesy smile.

“Because it means you’re getting the hell away from me,” she concluded.

“Woman, you’re just plain mean,” he said as she and Avie laughed. “Do you know what I like about you?”

“Oh, I’d hate to imagine.”

Suddenly all humor left his handsome face as he said, “Your smile, when you grace the world with it, your laugh because it sounds like music, your quick wit because you always have a fast comeback. But mostly your eyes draw me.” He lifted her chin with a single finger so their eyes met. “The sadness in them reminds me that there’s so much wrong with the world.”

She didn’t have a fast comeback for that.

“If there was any way that I could make that sadness go away, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

At that moment, Brandi’s heart opened and allowed Vernon partway in. He kissed her softly, gently—exploring the moist depths of her mouth with a tongue that teased just because it could. Damn, he tasted good. He ended with a gentle peck on her temple before walking away. His rear end, full and gorgeous, really did look wonderful.

Then the next weekend he brought her flowers.

“Cymbidium orchids?” she said, looking at the card. “Why can’t you just bring roses like everybody else?”

“Roses? Too common, baby,” he said with a little bow. “Roses say, ‘George Jetson, you must’ve goofed up somewhere.’”

She laughed. “You’re been watching too many cartoons. George Jetson goofed up most of the time and Jane had to get him out of it.”

“I guess that’s a matter of perception,” he said softly. He spread his jacket
out in the center of the open field which ran along all buildings of the campus. He lay down making himself comfortable before beckoning her to take the place next to him. Placing her books to the side, she sat down and watched him for a moment, marveling at how easy he could tune out the outside campus circling around them. Soon, he reached out, pulling her close and held her as they stared up at the Nashville sky, watching the clear blue coloring draped across the atmosphere as though it was an oil painting.

Her hands were laced in his, her heart raced at almost the speed of a locomotive, and perspiration peppered her forehead: Anxiety, curiosity, and fear trying to occupy the same space at the same time.

He turned his head, kissing her cheek.

Curiosity won, but only slowly. “I’m afraid.”

“I know. That’s why we’re going to spend the whole summer getting you to a point where you don’t pull away from even the simplest touch.”

Their heads were touching at the hairline. She glanced down. “Uh, is that part of you going to be cool with that?”

“Hey, I got him under control.”

“Famous last words!”

“Your eyes remind me of my mother,” he said, stroking a finger across her cheek. “She’s been hurt, too. Being married to my father is no picnic. I should’ve seen what was really going on with you at first, but I was too busy being your favorite asshole.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. You weren’t being an asshole, you were being a
whole
ass.”

He jerked his fist away from his chest, removing another imaginary dagger. “And she still manages to sneak one in.”

“You asked for that.”

He paused for a moment. “Brandi, I know this is short notice, but I was wondering, when you come home for spring break next week, will you come to my house and meet my parents?”

She rose up, resting on one elbow. “Really?”

“My mother’s dying to get a look at you.”

She was elated by the thought, but what he didn’t say scared her a bit. “And your father?”

He tried to come up with the words. “Well, my father’s a bit…he’s um—”

“Indescribable. Sort of like you when I first met you.”

“We’re gonna have to do something about that sharp tongue of yours. Two teaspoons of honey every morning.”

“I thought I’d get a call from you in the mornings.”

“And so you shall.”

Vernon was right about two things. She had his heart and William Spencer was indescribable. He hated Brandi on sight.

V
ernon strolled up to the front door of The Perfect Fit early Monday morning, still grumbling about his lost wallet. His key card was in there and the office sofa would have been a damn sight better than sleeping in the U-Haul all weekend. Today the regular guard was on duty and let him in, unlike that big bear of a bitch that had given him a hard time when he showed up on Saturday night. He would have her ass fired as soon as he got her name.

He walked through the slate-gray marble foyer, with its plush navy seats, and past the conference room. His gaze scanned the entire floor. A single light was on in an office at the end of the hallway.

Rage lit a fire inside him as he stormed down the hallway, past the file room and the cafeteria, realizing that the only person who could have started this whole thing had nerve enough to be in the office early. If things had gone as planned, he would have put back the money he used to purchase Tanya’s house and ring before Brandi figured it out. Even if she had, he was ready with an explanation.

“Can I have a word with you?”

Michael Cobb, their accountant, looked up from the pink documents in his hands, staring expressionlessly at Vernon as he placed it to the side. “Sure.”

“What in the hell possessed you to tell Brandi?”

Michael’s skin turned a shade darker. His eyes flashed with anger although his full lips curved with a trace of a sad smile. “Because at the rate you were spending, it wouldn’t just cost me the account with The Perfect Fit
for keeping my mouth shut, it would also cost other people their jobs.”

Michael’s secretary, Jackie, wearing a fur that swallowed her small frame, stopped in the entrance. Her eyes swept briefly over Vernon, then took in Michael’s angry glare.

Vernon kicked the door closed. He couldn’t quite catch what she said next, but he sure heard her as she stormed to her desk.

“That was real
special
. A gentleman through and through,” Michael snapped, eyeing Vernon angrily. “Let me tell you what raised a red flag for me. Ten thousand for an engagement ring? The money to cover that had to come from somewhere. Next thing you know the bills don’t get paid around here, then pay cuts and layoffs follow.” The tall, well-built man leaned back in his chair, leveling a steely gaze at Vernon. “I value my job, even if you didn’t value your wife. She should’ve married me when she had the chance.” He smiled, but it don’t quite reach his light brown eyes. “But I believe in second chances. I’ve known since day one that you were going to mess up. All I had to do was wait. Thirteen years is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

“So that’s what this is about,” Vernon said, crossing the distance in long strides to lean over the man’s glass desk. “You want my wife?”

“Correction, my man. I
will
have your…ex-wife.” Michael stood, leaning into Vernon. “I’ve waited long enough and now that she’s seen what an asshole you are—it’s prime time, baby. The only reason’s she stuck it out this far is because she hates failure. I’ll make her see that divorcing you is not failure. You were just a starter husband, like the number zero—a placeholder until a
real
number comes along.”

The man flipped his collar in a confident manner that irritated the hell out of Vernon, but he recognized the determination in Michael’s voice. He had used it himself when trying to win Brandi over. “If you even
think
about touching my wife—”

“You’ll do what?” Michael came around the desk, covering the short space between them with the agility of a panther. “Hit me? Negro, I’d like to see you try. I’ll beat all the natural black off you, then go for the cowardly shit that’s left behind. How dare you treat her this way!

“You know what?” Vernon said, as anger shot through him, “You don’t
have to worry about losing the account with us. You’re fired! Get your shit and don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya.” The man was so close, Vernon could smell cinnamon on his breath. Silence expanded between them.

Then Michael said, “You’re firing me? Good! Then I can go out in style—at
your
expense. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

“You will never have Brandi. Not as long as I draw breath on this earth.”

Michael perched on the edge of his desk. “Well, I can arrange for you to draw breath somewhere else.” He shrugged as he walked back behind the desk and sank down into the chair. “Six feet under sounds good to me. Buried alive is something I can handle.”

After a moment the words penetrated. Vernon turned to walk out.

“Mr. Spencer, there’s a place that all divorced men go,” Michael said in a somber tone.

Vernon yanked open the door, but turned back to face his self-proclaimed enemy.

“It’s called Never, Never, Ever Again Land. I’ll mail your tickets.”

“Stay the hell away from my wife.”

“Ex-
wife.” Michael pointed a single index finger at Vernon’s chest.
“Ex
marks the spot.” Then he grinned. “Come to think of it, maybe I should tell her the real truth about things before I make my exit. Your choice. Still want to fire me?”

Vernon stormed out of Michael’s office, nearly trampling over a shrieking secretary who had the misfortune of stepping in his path. Minutes later he stood in front of Brandi’s assistant. “Is my wife in?”

Renee gasped sharply, soft brown eyes scanning over him as she pinched her nose. “She…hasn’t been in yet.”

“I want to know the moment she steps in.” Vernon turned. Every employee stared back at him, not a single movement among them. “What are you looking at?”

The group scattered, some turning back to their desks to begin working again. All left a wide berth for Vernon to go any direction he chose—as long as it wasn’t too close to them.