Just Can't Let Go (11 page)

CHAPTER 14

Blake

S
pencer's picture was replaced with a photo of Max as my screen-saver.

Placing my cell on the vanity, I checked myself in the restroom mirror. The green blazer, matching skirt with my closed-toe black and cream three-inch pumps I'd worn to work was cute. Days of walking in five- and six-inch heels were long gone. My hair was smoothed back into a bun style that Alexis wouldn't dare wear even in her sleep. I removed, then reapplied my chocolate matte lipstick glad I'd made it through the day.

Bypassed Brandon, he was at his desk, on the phone. I'd say bye to him later. Unlocking the door to my office, I sat at my desk, then called Sandara.

She answered, “Mama, you don't have to keep calling me. Max is fine. Ty thinks he's hers. She's taken over feeding him and cleaning his bottom with baby wipes after he craps.”

Max was doing well with his pad training. I'd placed his toy, extra everything—treats, food, pads, change of clothes, bowl, wipes, and water in his RL designer tote. Caring for him was like raising a toddler. Smiling as I scanned through his photo album on my phone, this fella had saved me. If I didn't have Max, I probably would've had sex with Spencer yesterday. God knew it was hard walking out on an erection when I knew how good his dick felt inside of me.

Exhaling, I replied, “That's good. I'll have to put Ty on payroll.”

Ty was my four-year-old granddaughter and Sandara's middle child. Her brother Tyson was five. Tyrell was the youngest, three. He was probably jealous of Ty attending to Max since she was always fussing over wiping his face, brushing his teeth, and dressing him.

“Mama, you sound sad.”

“I'm fine, honey. A hectic day at the bank, that's all.” That was partially true.

I prayed I was closer to getting a corporate promotion. I'd find out next week whether or not I'd get passed over again. My salary was great. There wasn't anything I didn't know about my job. I needed to challenge myself, learn a new position.

Wish I had a man to share my money and success with. Thought that person was Spencer. Make that, a good man. I have to start being more specific when I ask God for a companion.

“Mama, you should really let us have Max. Now that you and Spencer aren't together, can I wear your relationship ring?”

It was refreshing to hear myself laugh aloud for the first time today. Sandara was serious. I wasn't offended. “Girl, don't even think about it.” That went for my dog and the diamond on my right ring finger. “I'll see you at six. Sharp.”

My relay, as he'd called it, with Spencer was over. Didn't mean I shouldn't enjoy his gift. It was mine to keep.

“Mama, let Max stay the night. We all know Alexis is going to be Alexis. Men like Spencer never change. Take it from me. Call your best friend Echo. Go to happy hour. Have some fun.”

Fun. Wow. The last time I felt desirable was my birthday. Being with Spencer was the wildest sex I'd had in over a decade, make that two decades. I had to give going out tonight consideration.

“I'll let you know. Bye, baby.”

“Mama, wait.”

The excitement in my baby girl's words made me perk up. “What is it?”

“I have a go see.”

Now that was great news. I didn't care where. I just wanted my child to get off of welfare, support herself and my grandbabies. “Where? When?”

How was Sandara offering to adopt my baby and she was going to need preschool for her own. I'd better enroll Max in day care.

“I don't want to jinx it, but if I get hired, I'll be traveling.”

I frowned. “Traveling where?”

She screamed, “Internationally! Can you believe it?”

“No, I mean, yes. But, baby, you barely go outside of East Point. Just tell me what agency it is, Sandara, so I can have my lawyer check them out. You know human trafficking is real big in Atlanta. You can get lured in, taken overseas, and we'll never see you again.”

Suddenly her being on government assistance didn't seem bad. She was safe and her kids were healthy and happy.

“Bye, Mama. I love you. Serious about the ring.”

I realized that when she'd asked for it. “Love you, too, baby.”

Soon as I stood, my cell rang. I didn't want to talk to him. Pressed ignore. It rang again. Sandara must've talked him up. I sat down, accepted the call.

“Spencer, what is it?”

“I called to let you know Conner is dead.”

And? So? What was I supposed say. I was done having sympathy for men who didn't deserve it. That included Spencer. The tone in his voice was absent of any signs that he was grieving. My bet, it gave Spencer a reason to call me without his saying “I need to talk.”

“Does Alexis know?”

“I called to apologize to you, Blake.”

His truth came out sooner than I'd expected. Save it. “Does Alexis know Conner is dead?”

“Yeah, she knows. She's here with me. We went to the hospital to visit him earlier.”

Give me a break. Nothing positive happened when those two were together. He could stay every night with Alexis and Chanel. I didn't care anymore. That wasn't exactly true, but if I were going to get over Spencer, I could not accept his apology.

“Good.” I ended the call not caring about Conner's cause of death. He was a deadbeat the entire time I've known him. Having had sex with Conner Rogers wasn't worth it. Even the child I birthed with his DNA was constant trouble.

My cell rang again. This time it was my daughter.

I answered, “I know. I know that you know that I know. And I don't care about Conner. He—”

“Mama, please,” she said. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?! What do you want from me, lil girl?”

“We called to apologize, Mama.”

“For what! Having sex with each other after I started dating Spencer? You're both grown. Lying about having had sex? I don't care, Alexis. I'm over it. Manipulating the people who love you? You got it from your father. Go bury him. Oh, wait. Is that it? The two of you need money from me to bury him. I wouldn't give you a discount coupon for embalming Conner Rogers if I had one. I hope he burns in hell!”

Alexis started crying. Couldn't recall the last time I'd heard that. Maybe I was too hard, but I was tired of being the considerate one.

“Mama, we're sorry.”

“Apologies accepted.” I ended the call.

“Knock. Knock.”

Before I said, “Come in,” my VP, Brandon, opened the door. I was heated, heaving, and started having a hot flash.

“Honey, it's four thirty, the bank is officially closed, and thank God everyone except you, me, and security are gone. I heard you shouting from my office. Get your purse. Let's go. I'm driving.”

I was an emotional mess. I did not object.

The drive to the Lobster Bar at Chops in Buckhead was short. We valet parked, went inside to the host stand.

“Reservation for Brandon Cutter.”

The host said, “Yes, sir. Are you expecting one more?”

Brandon answered, “Maybe.”

The host seated us right away. I sat on the booth side. The host pulled out a chair across the table from me for Brandon.

Exhaling, I placed my purse next to me, then relaxed my shoulders. “Who's coming?”

“Me, tonight, if he's lucky.” A smirk spread across his face.

I figured no one was joining us. “I have to keep that reservation for three strategy in mind.”

“Works to get a bigger table every time. Besides, I never know whom I'm going to run into,” he said.

The well-groomed young waiter placed two flutes on the table and then opened a bottle of champagne. I blew Brandon a kiss.

“Honey, we are going to celebrate your being fifty all over again. You are going to forget about Spencer, and I'm going to help you find some new dick today. Cheers, bitch,” he said, holding up his glass.

“I don't know, Brandon. Dick is not the answer.”

Covering his mouth, he gasped. “Bitch, you'd better take that back. Dick is always the answer as long as you always wrap it up and never question where it's been, honey. Trust me on this one. If dicks could talk.” Brandon perched, then licked his lips.

He tipped his flute to mine.

“Honey, that twenty-something made you squirt. You should never be mad at him.”

Glancing at the people seated near us, they looked embarrassed. I was not. I knew who'd invited me out. I had to laugh. Protesting was not going to calm Brandon down.

“So what, he turned out to be Alexis's brother. Who cares if they hooked up? They're not in their forties. That's what twenty-somethings do. Make mistakes. Yes, repeatedly sometimes. My best advice is always assume that your guy is attracted to someone else, but never accuse your man of cheating. A lie hurts more Blake when you decide to tell the truth. The real problem is you women don't know how to take shit to your grave. I—”

I had to interrupt or Brandon would never inhale. “I just need to process all of this.” Since there were no kids close to us, I stopped worrying about who overheard what.

“Process what, honey? What you need to do is move forward with your life. Oh, snap,” Brandon said, popping his fingers twice. “Am I good or what. Look who just walked in the room? Boom!”

The man who had tried to take me out for years was near the host stand, dressed in a tapered cerulean suit. His six-foot-eight-inch frame commanded attention. The forty-year-old millionaire Bing Sterling was scanning the room as though he was here looking for his date.

“Let me snag him for a sec,” Brandon said.

Reaching across the table, I tried to grab his arm. “Brandon, don't. He's looking for someone?”

“And what if he's not.”

When Bing saw Brandon, he smiled and headed in our direction.

CHAPTER 15

Phoenix

E
bony's wardrobe changes were my private show. Wished I could join her in the dressing room, recline in a chair, and just watch her put on and take off outfit after outfit.

Emptying my bladder, texting, eating, all that had to wait. I only took a break when she did. I hadn't missed a single shot of her entire shoot.

Ebony texted me photos of her in lingerie. Red lace, black see-through mesh, thongs, teddies, and a few pussy pics registered while she was out of my sight changing. I watched her spread for the photographer, like she'd done for me this morning. Classy. Sophisticated. I could taste her pussy juices in my mouth.

I licked my lips. In consideration of my fiancée, I should've rinsed and brushed after going down on Ebony. Lucky Dev couldn't detect Ebony's sweet vanilla flavor.

“Phoenix . . . Phoenix!”

Oh, damn. I was so engrossed, didn't see Dev staring in my face. Immediately, I pressed the side button on my phone. I prayed she hadn't seen my screen before it faded to black.

“Hey, Dev. We got this. I approve of your photographer. We're moving on up, babe.”

She rolled her eyes, told me, “You're drooling,” then walked away. No matter how many steps she took, Dev wasn't going anywhere. I did a few things behind her back, but I never gave her a reason to distrust me.

Wow! Ebony, Brea, Misty, and Emerald strutted out in expensive bras and panties. The kind Ebony wore exclusively for me. I felt like I was seated front row to a Victoria's Secret runway. Shifting my eyes to Dev, she was deep in conversation with the show's director, Trés. That was good.

He wasn't slick. A guy knew when another man was making a move on his girl. Best characteristic about my Dev, she was faithful. Both of my women were.

I rubbed the back of my hand across my lips. Kept admiring the cast. More like lusting, daydreaming about having an eight-hand massage. Ebony was the only one who I'd let touch my dick. She knew exactly how to jack me off. I had to be the luckiest dude in the ATL right now.

Not sure how long I'd be able to reframe from getting a full erection, I exhaled when I heard the photographer say, “That's a wrap.”

I had a few ideas of doing a separate set of pics with Ebony. A lot more risqué. A few nude for my personal collection.

The only part of the day I hated was my imagining my gurl sandwiched between West-Léon and Travis tomorrow. My frame was tight. But those guys' pics on social media, shit! They were Trai Byers ripped, from their legs to their neck. Pumping iron, running three miles a day, core training, all that was officially back on my daily schedule.

I'd done as Ebony had asked. Stayed my distance. Did the same with Dev most of the day. Didn't want her to see my dick growing and shrinking, especially when Ebony posed by herself. I was impressed seeing Dev in action. My fiancée was definitely a boss.

“Hey, babe,” I said to Dev. “This was an amazing first day. I'm proud of you. I have a few suggestions.”

“Later, Phoenix. I have to go over details with AJ Alexander for tomorrow's shoot. We can talk at home.”

I thought I recognized AJ's face, but his body was about a hundred pounds lighter. He was that dude who discovered Usher.

“You don't have a minute to hear what—”

“Hey, Dev! Great job. You're a natural at this,” the director said, sounding as though he were speaking through his nose. “You have a sec, beautiful? I want to run several suggestions by you for tomorrow's shoot.”

Dev? Trés called my fiancée Dev? I was supposed to be the only one with those privileges. She obviously liked it, him, and his proper English accent.

“Of course, Trés. Let me speak with AJ; then I'm all yours,” she said, sounding like a high school virgin with a mad crush on this guy.

Soon as Dev walked away, I extended my hand to Trés. “I'm
Devereaux's
fiancé and Ebony's manager. And—”

Trés said, “Yes, Devereaux Crystal. Phoenix Watson is it?”

Obviously, he'd heard about me. Dev should've stuck with the guy who'd directed the pilot. I had to compose myself for Dev. Didn't want to give our company a bad rep.

Knowing exactly who he was, I asked, “And you are?”

“You'll see my name in the credits, ole chap.”

Chap? That was fucking rude. I wanted to bust dude one quick time in his mouth.

“Hey, Trés,” Dev said, grinning ear to ear. “I have an hour before meeting my sister. You want to grab a drink?”

“You're amazing, darling. I'd love to,” he said.

I noticed she didn't say where. That was cool. I had plans. He escorted Dev off set. Neither of them looked at me.

I called out, “Bye, babe!”

She continued talking, to him. Kept walking. I knew she heard me.

Ebony texted me:
Something came up. Don't come by tonight
.

Yeah, I bet. Dev, AJ, Trés probably put something in my Ebony's head. I could see Trés plotting to get me out of the picture completely. I wasn't blind or stupid. He was making a move on my woman.

Setting a date for my wedding was happening this weekend.

I got in my car and went to Ebony's with the intent to find out exactly what came up.