Red Hot (25 page)

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Authors: Niobia Bryant

BOOK: Red Hot
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Quint frowned, already on guard about her intentions. He said nothing as he slid the large suitcase and book bag into the empty trunk. Knowing Lei had another large suitcase, he left the trunk open before he walked back toward the apartment.
Vita suddenly swung her door open, blocking his path. She turned and sat sideways on the seat as she looked up at him. “I said . . . I guess you'll be moving back into that big, old house of yours,” she said.
Quint worked his shoulders in agitation as he eyed her. “What does that have to do with you?” he snapped, losing his patience and desire for false niceties real fast.
“Plenty,” she stressed. “Because you might want to rethink it, since you'll be back on child support. ASAP.”
And that was the other shoe that he had been waiting to fall. Quint eyed her and didn't bother to hide his distaste for her. It was sad that he couldn't stand the sight of a woman he thought he once loved—the woman who had bore his child.
The front door opened. Lei and Kaitlyn stepped out, and he watched as his woman hugged his daughter and kissed her cheek. He shifted his eyes back to Vita; his ex-wife took in the show of affection as well before she smirked.
Quint backtracked and went around Kaitlyn's car to reach them. “Wait until I tell you what she just said to me,” he whispered to Kaitlyn when Lei walked over to greet her mother at the car.
Kaitlyn rubbed his arm. “I'll be inside,” she said, turning to walk back into the apartment with a final wave at Lei.
Quint knew she wanted no part of the drama. He couldn't blame her. He wished
he
didn't have to deal with it either.
C
HAPTER
15
Two months later
 
Kaitlyn parked her car in the small parking lot beside the boutique. She opened the vehicle's back door to pull out the garment bags her boss had asked her to bring to Xena, his co-owner of Adorned. She closed the door with a bump of her hip and turned.
“Kaitlyn?”
Ain't this some shit?
She smiled as she eyed Anola and Tandy walking toward her in the parking lot.
“Oh, my God!” Tandy shrieked, rushing over to Kaitlyn to hug her, with Anola arriving close behind.
“When did you get back from Italy?”
“Did you buy the most amazing clothes?”
“Did you hook any cuties?”
“Did you get a chance to lie out . . . because you don't look bronzed?”
Kaitlyn's head spun as she looked back and forth from each of the fab divas as they shot questions at her like the paparazzi. She held up a hand to stop the barrage.
They both clamped their mouths shut.
Kaitlyn's lips moved, but no words emerged as she struggled with continuing her lie or shaming the Devil with the truth.
“I have to be honest,” she said. “I didn't—”
Anola's Nicki Minaj ring tone sounded off, and she visibly jumped as she dug into her black patent tote.
It was Kaitlyn's turn to clamp her mouth shut.
“Is that Ursula?” Tandy asked, leaning over to look down at Anola's phone.
Kaitlyn's face filled with disbelief.
“Yes. We gotta go,” Anola said, carelessly dropping the phone back into her bag. “Kaitlyn, there's a Botox party at Ursula Griffin's.”
“You totally know Ursula, right?” Tandy asked.
“She's the daughter of that newscaster from Channel 4. They just moved in next to Anola and her parents and she has the best closet in the—”
“Botox?” Kaitlyn asked, her brow puckering as she completely cut off the Ursula Griffin bio. “I don't need Botox, and neither do either of you.”
They both eyed her like she was an alien. “So you don't want to go?” Tandy asked, looking confused.
Kaitlyn shook her head. “No, I'm good.”
“Let's all hook up for sip and shop tomorrow,” Anola said, leaning forward to air-kiss each of Kaitlyn's cheeks. “We have so much to tell you.”
Tandy air-kissed her as well. “Yes, we have
lived
since we saw you last.”
“So have I,” Kaitlyn said, even though she knew they spoke of living in completely different ways.
Kaitlyn had found love, grasped at her maturity, and earned the respect of her family. She loved her friends, but she knew they spoke of parties, fashion, and scandalous gossip.
“We gotta run,” Anola said, pulling Tandy by the wrist to her white BMW Roadster.
“Call us,” Tandy called over her shoulder.
Kaitlyn waved them off and made her way out of the parking lot and into the boutique. Just as she pushed the glass door open, they pulled out of the parking lot, blew the horn, and then sped off down King Street.
Kaitlyn felt like she hardly even knew—or understood—them.
 
 
Quint stood back and observed his handiwork on the crib he was commissioned to design and build as a surprise for an OB-GYN's wife. They had struggled for many years to conceive, and the doctor wanted a unique and sturdily built crib that they planned to pass down through their family for the generations to come. He got the job off a referral from the widow for whom he had done the custom picture frame.
In fact, he got that job and two more. He was swamped. He yawned as he began cleaning his tools. He was exhausted. Between his work at the apartment complex, the increased carpentry work, carving out quality time with Lei, and still making time to devote to his relationship with Kaitlyn, Quint was beat.
Quint hadn't been running or gone weight lifting in weeks. Although he missed the physical exertion, he was enjoying working—and making good money—from his craft. So much so, he was seriously considering walking out on faith and leaving the job at the apartment complex behind to focus on building a real business of his custom cabinetry.
He took the job to be able to be there for Lei, but that was when she was living with him. Now that she was back living with her mother, he could speed up his plan to move back into his house and live off his savings while he focused on woodworking. He had only delayed the move so far because he wanted to make sure his ex-wife wouldn't fly the coop again and leave him to willingly rearrange his life to suit his daughter living with him.
Quint glanced at the time on his cell phone. It was well after nine. He finished up in his shed and locked it securely, glancing up at Kaitlyn's rear windows to see her apartment was still dark. He made his way to the front of the property, and her car was nowhere to be seen.
Usually she got home from work around six and she would call him or come back to the shed to sit with him as he worked. He frowned.
Did something happen?
As he unlocked the front door and entered his apartment, he called her cell phone. Relief flooded him when she answered the call.
“Hey, baby,” she said cheerfully.
The background chatter was so loud that he barely heard her.
“Hey, I was just checking on you when I didn't see your car,” Quint said, turning on the lights as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge.
“Oh, I'm at my parents'. Everyone in my family was here, just cutting up,” she said.
“Tell Quint I said chill out. You good,” he heard one of her brothers holler out in the background.
Quint smiled. “Just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
“Aww, thanks, babe. My mama already made you a plate. We had baked spaghetti.”
The mention of food made him remember that he hadn't eaten and his stomach grumbled in protest as he dropped down on the couch and turned on the television. “I can use it. Thank her for me.”
“Be there soon.”
“A'ight.” Quint ended the call and tossed his cell phone on the chair as he flipped through the channels. He had barely settled on an old Richard Pryor movie before his cell phone vibrated.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Hey, Daddy.”
He smiled. “What's up, Lei?”
“Nothing. Just got done with my homework.”
Quint put the TV on mute with the remote as he noted the odd inflection in her voice. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I just wanted to call you before I went to bed. I know you miss me,” Lei teased.
“I damn sure do.”
“I miss you too, Daddy.”
He thought of his little girl toddling toward him as she took her first steps. “Movie night?”
“Definitely.”
He was still smiling when they ended the call. Lights flashed against the wall of his living room. He rolled off the couch to look out the window at Kaitlyn parking and then climbing out of her car to pull shopping bags from her trunk. Many, many shopping bags. All glossy and designer labels.
Quint frowned as he opened the door. “Hey, baby, you need help?”
Kaitlyn nodded as she handed the majority of the bags to him before reaching for a couple more bags and a Styrofoam to-go container. “Thanks.”
“Been shopping?” he asked dryly before easily jogging up the stairs to her front door.
“Yesssss,”
she said with emphasis from behind him. “My parents turned my credit card back on today, and I treated myself to a little shopping excursion after work.”
Quint made a face. “You mean
they
treated you,” he pointed out.
Kaitlyn remained quiet.
Quint reached the top of the stairs and looked back at her. She had paused midway.
“What?” he asked.
“You say that like it's a problem, Quint,” she said.
“They see I'm working hard and congratulated me, but you're making me feel some kind of way.”
Quint shrugged. “Kaitlyn, look, if you okay with your parents paying your bills again, then it has nothing to do with me.”
Kaitlyn dropped her head as she continued up the stairs to stand before him with the straps of the shopping bags around her wrist and the container of food in her hand. “You're right. It doesn't.”
He eyed her. “Whatever, Kaitlyn. Could you unlock the door?” he asked, irked and sounding it.
She literally stomped her foot. “What do you mean ‘whatever'?” she snapped.
Quint looked annoyed. “Yo, why all the attitude?”
“Why all the judgment?” she shot back.
Quint bit his bottom lip and shook his head as he stared at her.
Kaitlyn brushed past him to unlock the door with her free hand and hold it open for him to carry in her bags. “Why are we arguing?” she asked as she flipped the switch to bask the living room with light before sitting the bags and food by the table under her oversized photo.
Quint set the bags on the sofa. “Look, I apologize, okay? It's none of my business and I'm out of it,” he said, coming over to press a kiss to her temple before picking up the plate.
Kaitlyn held up her hands. “Okay, I don't get it. That's all.”
Quint looked down at her. “I know,” he said with the utmost seriousness.
And that's what concerned him.
He said nothing, and he had hoped for the best, but he had not missed little things that proved Kaitlyn was reverting back to some of her old ways, and her family was once again enabling it. He had not missed that last month the check to pay her rent had been drawn off her father's business checking account, not her own. She was beginning to miss a random day here and there of work. Last week she was looking through catalogs for new cars.
Quint noticed it all and said nothing, but he thought a lot about it because the woman he fell in love with was the funny, confident woman who faced adversity and overcame her shortcomings to kick ass and take names to be a better person.
It frustrated him that the same family that had done a great thing in making her take responsibility for herself couldn't see that they were slowly undoing their work.
He could see it, even if they couldn't, and it frustrated the hell out of him.
Kaitlyn stirred in her sleep and rolled over to find her bed empty. She lifted her head off the bed and looked around. Quint's spot was cool, so she knew he had been gone from her bed for a while.
Flinging back the covers, she climbed from the bed in her footed pajamas to leave the bedroom in the darkness.
Maybe he's watching TV,
she thought.
But the living room was empty as well.
Kaitlyn turned and walked across the short length of the apartment. In the kitchen she opened the back door; and through the slats of the wrought-iron railing, she could see the light on in his shed. She made her way down the stairs and over to the workshop. Without knocking she eased the door open.
Still dressed in his pajama bottoms and a wife beater, Quint looked over his broad shoulder at her before turning back to the piece he was working on.
Kaitlyn frowned at the coolness she felt from him. His dismissal was colder than the January air whipping around her. She stepped inside the shed and closed the door behind her, glad for the space heater he had running.
“Couldn't sleep?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he answered.

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