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Now, I would be charged with keeping at bay the expectations of another woman I had sex with. Engaging in these relationships, only served one purpose: to keep me occupied while I waited for Zoey. I strategically decided on women I could easily handle. I knew I could never give my heart to a woman like Erika, she was shallow, self-centered, and too image-conscious. For her it was all about stunting. For Jenna it wasn’t about celebrity ego, though. With Jenna it was about something with more substance, like conversation and ideological pushback, but nothing deep that ran and flowed like the river of emotions I had for Zoey. Still.

Zoey began communicating with me again around the holidays, but she wasn’t ready. I’d hurt her too much. Jenna may have been ready, but I didn’t think I was. And that could have been due to being in Zoey’s presence here in Rio de Janeiro.  

After letting Jordan nap for an hour or so, we headed out for a bite then back to the beach for kite sailing and more swimming. Before I took him back to his villa with his mom that evening, we had dinner and I made sure to pick up something for Zoey, not knowing if she’d slept the afternoon away.

I bathed Jordan and put him to bed. When I went toward Zoey’s door, I found it cracked. She was sprawled across it with her bikini still on. The back of her head was facing me, and I didn’t know if she was sleeping or not.

“Zo,” I called from the door frame. “JR is sleeping in his bed. I fed and bathed him.” She didn’t speak or move. “I brought you dinner. It’s on the bar in the kitchen.” I stood there waiting for confirmation. Nothing.

I turned toward the front of the house to leave. On my way there, I couldn’t shake how something felt so fucking off.

~~~~~~~~~~

~
Zoey
~

I woke abruptly to a heavy knock at the door. My head popped up from the pillow. I heard the banging again. I quickly grabbed my robe and headed to the front door. It was an anxious Jenna.

Tightening my robe around my frame, trying to hide my shakiness, I asked, “What are you doing here at this crazy hour?”

She plucked an eyebrow. “I’m looking for my boyfriend!” She tossed her head to the side, challenging me.

Was I missing something?

“And you’d start here?” I wrinkled my forehead, now annoyed. She could have disturbed my child.

“Where else would he be all night?”

“Remember, Jenna. He’s.
Your
. Boyfriend.” My tone was purposely sardonic and I emphasized the word
your
. She did make it a point to remind me just a second before.

She shook her head, clearly annoyed. “Please ask Stenton to come out. Now!”

I moved back, inviting her in. “Jenna, feel free to search the place. Stenton isn’t here. He dropped JR off around eight and left…” Something hit me. “Unless…”

I took off for Jordan’s room. I wasn’t sure if my hunch was plausible, but explored it anyway. I cracked the door open until I saw the back of long hairy legs on the floor in a kneeling position. I gasped with crazy thoughts flying through my head about someone possibly violating my child underneath my nose.

Then I saw his head resting on the bed next to Jordan. His eyes were closed and lips parted as he slept in that awkward position. Jordan was sprawled out in his bed, sleeping contently. His father had fallen asleep next to him.

I felt Jenna gently grab my shoulder and round me with urgency to get to Stenton. I stood there with my mouth agape as she lightly tapped Stenton’s shoulder to wake him. After several tries, he stirred. Eventually he stood, a little dazed.

When he moved for the door where I stood, I murmured, “I thought you left hours ago.”

“I did,” his sleepy baritone that suddenly sounded too personal to occur in my presence rolled out. “When I walked past his room for the front door, I heard him whining in his sleep. I came back in here to calm him back to sleep and closed the door so he wouldn’t disturb you. I guess I fell asleep my damn self.”

With my mouth still hanging open and while still studying a sleeping Jordan, I nodded.

“Let’s go, Stenton. I have an early morning with mom,” Jenna whispered coldly.

She didn’t acknowledge me or apologize for her accusation when at the door as she guided him out to the front of the villa. However, she did whisper very clandestinely, “This is why I need to take this relationship to the next level. This could have been disastrous.”

I glared at the back of her head, confused. Was she threatening me or simply allowing her insecurities to slip?

When I heard the front door close, I went to lock it and then returned to bed with double the questions running through my head than I had earlier.

The next morning, Stenton came by early to pick up Jordan for fishing. He invited me, but I declined, not needing more time with Stenton. Instead, I stayed in bed, catching up on things like, scanning applicants for a newly opened position, and paying bills for the bakery. I’d also started weaving together a business plan for a second location. I eventually decided to move to the sitting area in front of the villa to be out in the sun.

I looked up when I heard familiar voices.

“She’s right here, J,” Stenton called out.

I found Jordan, carrying a tray of food.

“Thanks, baby! I’m starved.” I beamed as I accepted the tray. I hadn’t eaten a full meal since breakfast the day before. I picked through the salad Stenton brought back last night with no appetite well after I thought he’d left.

When I opened the cover, I found lots of bacon that managed to stay crispy with eggs over easy.

I paid a gander over to Stenton, who was now at the top step. “Thanks.” I knew it was his idea and the food choice was strategic. He knew I overdosed on bacon.

“Dad, I have to use the bathroom,” Jordan announced.

“Go ‘head, son. We have time,” Stenton returned.

“You guys have had a full agenda,” I offered for small talk.

“Yeah. Always fun with that little dude. It would be nice if you came.”

I shook my head. “I think last night with Jenna, alone, proved that I need to give the two of you space. The same can be granted for you and JR,” I tried offering an appeasing smile.

He glared, bunching those thick brows.

“You’ve been cold since Jenna showed up on the beach yesterday. What happened, Zo?” I also caught the flare in his nostrils.

“How was your first time with her last night?”

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. If Jenna was so open to share, why couldn’t I at least let Stenton know that I was aware of him having sex the night before while my son and I were arbitrarily here with him and his lover?

“Huhn?” Stenton’s head angled and forehead wrinkled.

“With Jenna…how was it?”

Stenton seemed lost for a few seconds before he caught on to the activity I was alluding to. “I didn’t have sex last night, Zoey.” He then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, that’s what that shit was about last night,” his tone turned revelatory.

I didn’t know if he was referring to Jenna showing up with guns blazing, thinking she was about to bust us, or her finally having sex with him.

“Which part?”

“The eagerness to fuck all of a sudden,” he muttered while still pinching. Then he looked up at me. “Listen, Zo, I’m sorry you were exposed to this shit while out here. I’m sorry you were brought out here without full disclosure. One thing that I can tell you is Jenna is an attractive woman and all, but I won’t be fucking her with you and Jordan out here. That’s not why I invited you.”

“Then why did you?” My voice was clipped and elevated. “You don’t get it; I don’t understand you. I don’t get how you view me, or what exactly I am to you. You’ve always confused me about me…about us.” I exhaled. “Just like when we returned from Cayman and you said you weren’t breaking up with me and then you did just that! You don’t want me, but you keep me within arm’s reach. I never understand your decisions. I thought I was the only person who understood you, but I now see that isn’t true. You play with people’s heads. Mislead them. Look at this beautiful and intelligent woman you have here, wanting to give herself to you, but you invite me under false pretenses; the woman who, for some reason, holds on to the possibility of there being a future between us. But I get it now. There will never be. I am not good enough for you for some reason, and that’s okay.”

I saw Stenton’s jaw clench. “That is bullshit and couldn’t be further from the truth, Zo—”

“No, it is the truth and I get it now. And I will get over it. I have to stop doing this, Stenton. I have to move on!”

“What the fuck do you mean?” he nearly growled.

“What I mean is, I thought you needed to grow…you know, sow your oats. So, you got with Erika. I get that. But it’s been three years”—I gestured behind me in the villa to reference Jordan—“and you still haven’t gotten whatever it is that’s preventing you from noticing me and loving me, out of your system. Now, you have a classy woman with education, dignity and sex appeal and you’re still struggling with commitment.” Putting my fist to my mouth, I tried catching my breath.

“Jenna feels she’s missing something. She asked me about why we didn’t work and hell, what could I say? I’ve never felt suitable enough for you. I’ve never been that one for you.” I found myself looking out to the water while pausing. “But I have to get over it. I can’t secretly wait on you, hoping that one day we’ll be the family that I’ve craved to be since day one. What you said yesterday about us being your family isn’t true. You and I are Jordan’s family, but
I’m
not
your
family, Stenton. I need to work on getting a family. I need to move on.” I paused again. A part of me wondered what was taking Jordan so long; I didn’t want him hearing this. 

“Every time I think I’m strong, you fly into my life and do things like this to weaken my resolve. I don’t know what to do! I have to move on!” I whispered forcefully.

His eyelids collapsed and Stenton appeared to be in pain. “Again, Zo, what does this mean?”

“I need to date other people. For real. I need to get into the game and explore men. And not even for sex. I just need to connect with someone else. You know, I’m busy with Jordan and work, but I need something especially for me. I need someone to be with me when
my
mother goes in for surgery. Someone devoted to me, and not simply obligated.” My eyes found his reddened and glossy. “And you’ve never loved
me
, Stenton. You’ve always taken care of me financially, provided for me. You’ve always coddled me, but you never took care of my heart when you stole it. You didn’t nurture it, or acknowledge it. Now I need it back. I need to find someone who can carry it properly for Elizabeth, not Zoey, the girl you damaged.” I swallowed back my tears. It wasn’t the time for those, but I needed to make something clear.

“So, for the duration of my time here, you go ahead and spend yours with your son. I’ll stay behind and allow you that with him here. He needs you. He should be your sole priority. As far as me, I’m not your family; he’s your family.” I stood to go search for my child in the house.

If there was a point in time when I could identify where my bitterness for Stenton Rogers ignited, it was there in Rio de Janeiro where I let him go. Let us go. For too long I’d spent my early adult years waiting on his ultimate commitment to me only to watch him give it only to someone who incubated in me for nearly ten months. It toyed with my heart for so long. Made me feel less than desirable, even when I couldn’t articulate it. No more. From that day on,
I
looked out for my heart once I’d confiscated it back from Stenton.

 

Chapter 8

Then

September 2012

~
Stenton
~

“I’m proud of you, StentRo. This is wild, man!” Quincy scanned the rowdy restaurant.

“Thanks, Q. And thanks for participating this year. I think we’ve had a nice turnout.”

“Yeah, you’ve proven to me that I need to hit the court more often.” Quincy rubbed his chest at our booth while tightening his face.

“You sure you okay, man? You sure put on a show out there, trying to show Jackson his old man still got it.”

“I’m good. She needs to hurry on up with my brewski. That’ll sure relax me.”

Just then the brunette waitress appeared with tall mugs of ice cold beer.

“Here you are, Mr. Rogers and friend,” her bright smile beamed and her hazel irises twinkled.

As she ogled me, I took the opportunity to cruise her long legs in short black shorts. Not too thin, but not thick enough if I were interested.

“Awwww… C’mon, baby. Mr. Rogers here isn’t the only tipping customer at this table. Show some equity in attention,” Quincy’s flirtatious ass poured out, being sure to give her his twinkle of the eye.

Quincy was like that; very much a ladies man. At fifty years old, the only thing tipping off his seniority was the gray of his hair. And if you knew him as long as I had, that fact would even throw you, considering he was a premature grayer. He’d once told me he started graying in high school. In all, it worked for him. Not only was he a smooth cat with hordes of lady fanfare, but he was a good looking dude, pretty type of fucker. The ladies loved Q and he them. The only problem for the ladies was that Quincy had been married for nearly thirty years. That was not a factor in his pursuit of prey, though. Q had three loves: his son, Jackson, who wasn’t his only child, his job, and women.  

The waitress winked before leaving our booth. She had customers waiting on her. The place was packed. It was my third annual “Hooping for Our Youth” fund raiser and by far the best attended one. I couldn’t think of anyone I knew who didn’t come out or donate. Even Zoey donated on behalf of her bakeries. I’d only wished she could head up my nonprofit organization. With the way she quickly turned out two bakeries in Philadelphia in just about the same amount of years, and considering a third in Jersey, she was a genius.

“So, where’s Jenna?”

Before taking a gulp of my beer, I returned, “Out of the country.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

I had to pause to think. “Southern Europe somewhere.”

“Okay. For work?”

“Nah. Her birthday.” I offered as I waved at someone in passing.

“And you’re not with her?”

I shook my head. “She wanted to go. I wrote the damn check.” I shrugged.

“Southern Europe as in Greece?”

Again, I paused, trying to recount the names of places on her tour from one of the dozens of times she told me.

“Nah…at least I don’t recall that. I would, because I sent Zo out there some time ago.”

“But you don’t recall where you sent your lady…in South Europe?

“I remember her mentioning the skirts of Bosnia and Serbia. Some shit.”

“Where there’s known duress…?” Q’s face dropped as he eyed me suspiciously.

I swallowed and matched his expression. “And your fucking point?”

“My point is a vacation like that is not only potentially dangerous, but it requires at least three weeks away from home.”

I nodded at someone across the room at the bar before answering.

“Jenna’s a grown woman. She cleared the time with her job, I cleared the check. Win/win for her is how I see it.”

Quincy snickered with a strained expression. I knew he was busting my chops about this, but incongruently, I didn’t give a damn. I’d been appreciating the break. Things were getting too…progressive with Jenna; far more than I intended. Our conversations had begun to change from individual interests to talks of a future. The requests to spend time with Jordan had increased, too. And the sex…

Since the first time Jenna and I finally indulged, she’d been a different creature. A damn fiend. Don’t get me wrong, a hypersexual woman is a man’s dream, even Zoey turned greedy once we started, but this was different. I couldn’t explain the lack of connection with her. The disinterest in stretching her boundaries. My being satisfied with mediocrity in intimacy. I could however, feel reprieve from the rope she was tightening around my neck. That wasn’t the plan for this.

“Let’s turn the spotlight onto you, Q,” I attempted to change the course of the conversation.

With another tense expression, Quincy stretched his arms wide. “I’m an open book.”

I shifted over the table for discretion. “You’ve been married to Joyce for decades and still out here acting like a single man. What’s up with that, Q? Why not just divorce her?”

Quincy relaxed in his seat, exhaling. “It ain’t that simple, man. Joyce and I have been together since we were kids…right out of college. In retrospect, that was too early to be getting married, man, but she was pregnant with Jackson and that was the only option for us back then…so I thought.”

Far more intrigued than he knew, I asked, “So, what would you have done differently? Aborted the baby?”

“Hell no! I was in love with my son at the knowledge of his conception, man. He is one of my greatest accomplishments, if not
the
greatest. What I would have done is let her grow up a little.” His face hardened, but in a different manner than earlier. “Could be why she turned to drinking. Me upstarting the firm, leaving her to raise a kid while so young was probably a bad idea.”

“But you’ve been a good dad. Jackson…” I tossed my chin in the area where he was drinking and laughing with his boys. “…has been tucked at your side since I’ve known you. You weren’t negligent.”

“To him I wasn’t. To her I have been. Having a child together doesn’t guarantee spousal chemistry. It only gives the opportunity for parental partnering. Even that hasn’t been the best with Candice. Having her seemed to add to our troubles. I’ve been a shitty father to that girl. I…”

His face turned morose…actually stricken.

“You okay, Q?”

He grabbed his chest again, grunting.

“Yo, Srey!” I called over to my assistant not too far away. “Call 911!”

At that moment, Quincy fell onto the table. I jumped out of my seat and over to him to pull him from the booth and flat on the floor. I heard the gasps and murmurs of the other patrons.

“CALL 911 NOW!” I demanded to anyone in earshot. His mouth slackened. “Who knows CPR?”

~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t make it. Quincy Hunter. My friend of over ten years died of a massive heart attack. That astounding fact scared the shit out of me. As I stood in the waiting room of the hospital, rolling this shit over in my mind, I felt a small hand at my back.

“Sir, Jackson is resting now. He’s been sedated for his safety,” Srey informed. I nodded. “You need rest. Can I call you a car?”

“No.”

“Pardon, sir? I can give you a ride if you’re worried about the news reporters downstairs. I can pull into the other side of the building. The admin staff has already recommended a pick up spot to get you out of here clandestinely.”

I shook my head, turning back to the city view. There was a long pause.

“Well, sir, who can I call to assist you?”

I knew she was referring to Jenna, whom she knew was out of the country. I couldn’t think of anyone. I’d sent Alton home about an hour ago. One of his little girls was sick. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to be alone with these thoughts. My fucking friend died in my arms less than six hours ago. He’d
died in my arms
. And Jackson… He’d pretty much been an even tempered kid, but when we learned just after arriving here that Quincy was DOA, he lost it. Unable to accept the truth he turned violent and had to be restrained and then sedated. Hell no, I wasn’t going to my apartment or to a big ass empty mansion in Alpine. I needed to be around life. And there was only one place I could think of.

“Please call Zoey.”

With a bit of hesitation, I heard Srey sputter, “
Ye
-yes, sir. I’ll go call her now.”

Would she come, was the question I tossed in my mind. I hadn’t seen Zoey in over a month. She’d become so entrenched in the bakeries. I’d even missed her at functions her family held. All I had available to observe what was going on in her world was Facebook. I never made reference to us still being friends because I didn’t want to remind her of the connection and end it.

I’d turned manipulative when sending her on vacations over the past two years now that Jordan was old enough to have an opinion and influence. This was to Ezra’s dismay, but I continued on my mission of sending her away, sometimes twice a year. I’d have Jordan present her with a gift from
us
, being sure to get him pumped up about going so she couldn’t turn away
his
gift. It was all I could do to feel connected to her, to feel useful in her world.

Since Brazil, she’d shut down even more, drawing thicker barriers between us. What the fuck could I do without intruding? Expending her favorite pastime felt like the only connector. She was still posting pictures from her Tokyo excursion in June. Viewing those pictures on my birthday a few months back, stirred something within. My family seemed to be having a blast without me. And Zoey… She looked amazing in each picture she posed for. She looked strong, unbothered, and sexy as he—

“Stenton?”

I turned my neck to find her standing in the middle of the floor tentatively. She still looked young, but now coated with far more sex appeal than when I met her at twenty. Zoey’s wild hair was in a messy arrangement on top of her head, she wore a loose white ribbed tank t-shirt, short denim shorts with a lumber button up wrapped around her waist and Converse sneakers. A white powdery substance splattered about her body, I’m sure an occupational hazard. When I fully pivoted, excited by her presence, I noticed she inspected me from head to toe. I didn’t know why, I hadn’t been hurt. Then when I saw her eyes close and her chest descend from exhaling, I found myself doing the same. I found my body floating over to her and wrapped my arms around her small shoulders. Within seconds, little hesitation, I felt her arms encircle my waist as she melted into me.

Thank you, Niña…

I didn’t need her resistance or stubbornness. I needed her comfort and loving arms. My arms ascended and hooked her at the back of her head. I buried my face in her shaggy mane, inhaling her vanilla fragrance.

“I’m glad you’re okay. Srey told me what happened,” she spoke into my chest, the reverberation extending to my core. My grip on her tiny frame tightened, and I held on to her for moments long. Zoey lifted her head, her doe eyes framed with concern. “Jordan’s staying over Karen’s house tonight. I can go pick him up early. I know he’d love to see you. I don’t think you should be alon—” Her words abruptly halted. “
I
-I don’t mean to imply you’d be alone. I know Jenna would like to see about you. I just know how you and Jor—”

“Jenna’s out of the country. Won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”

Processing my words, with wide eyes, Zoey murmured, “Oh…” She was beautiful, even when at a loss for words. I was yet again confusing her. “Do you want me to have Karen get him ready for me to pick up? I can bring him to your place, or you could come over. Maybe you two can bake cookies and have some milk?”

Stoically, and getting lost in her eyes, I shook my head. “I don’t want to kill his sleepover. But I would like to be there when he gets home. I prefer merlot with my cookies.”

How that shit came out I didn’t know. I couldn’t believe I was fucking asking her if I could go to her place. Just twelve hours ago, I was planning on having drinks with a few teammates and participants from the charity event, and now I’m asking to go over to my son’s house in his absence because I don’t want to be alone with the memory of a lifeless Quincy in my arms.

With her mouth still open, Zoey whispered, “
O
-okay…”

Once we were down in the basement of the hospital, we were led by security to the transportation docks, apparently where Zoey was told to park. I ducked into the tented backseat and stretched down as much as was possible with my long legs. There was total silence on the drive to her place. I wrestled with my torn thoughts of alone time with Zoey. It’s not like I’d wanted to fuck her. I just didn’t want to be alone. I hoped I wouldn’t be imposing. Did she have a man? If she did, would he be okay with me being there? Shit! If he did, would she put my black ass out?

“I hear your stomach back there. Don’t chew the leather. I can give you real food before your cookies.”

I saw Zoey’s eyes trying to focus on me through the rearview mirror. I smiled on the inside.
Same Zoey
.

That evening, Zoey did feed me before serving me fresh cookies and wine. She made a casserole, saying it was good comfort food and likely what I needed. It was good as hell, just like everything she made. I didn’t go in on the cookies and wine though. Out of nowhere, I lost my appetite. I felt weak and lightheaded.

BOOK: Love Delivered
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