Two Steps Back (17 page)

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she stammered. “Your receptionist said you weren’t in a meeting. I’ll just wait in the—“

The
woman turned to look at Jaylah bringing her sentence to an abrupt halt. Something flickered in the woman’s eyes making Jaylah feel uneasy about the scene. Immediately, her heart picked up its beat and every nerve in her body stood on end.

“It’s okay, Jaylah. This is—“

“Fiona,” Jaylah whispered like she’d conjured up a ghost.

She
stumbled backward, resting against the large oak door. Jaylah felt light-headed and fought off the urge to faint—or kick Fiona’s ass for daring to show up at
her
man’s office—but she waited to see what would happen next.

“Jaylah?” Johnny stood and began moving around his desk.

She steadied herself and held up a hand. “I’m good.”

Johnny sat back down, but eyed
Jaylah carefully, worry creasing his face.

“Fiona was just about to leave.”

A smirk crossed her red lips. “Yes, I’m on my way out. Pleasure meeting you.”

Fiona stood, walked toward Jaylah and extended her hand. As she got closer Jaylah noticed the
outline of her protruding belly pushing against the fabric of her shift dress.

“You’re pregnant?”
Jaylah asked, ignoring Fiona’s polite gesture.

“Yes,” she smiled,
rubbing her belly in that sickening sweet way exuberant mothers do. “I’m six months along.”

“Six months…” Jaylah repeated, stunned.

Fiona glanced at Johnny and grinned. “I hear you are, too. I guess congratulations are in order?”

Jaylah looked from Johnny to Fiona wondering what the fuck was happening.
Why was she in his office? Why did she know her business? And more importantly, who was the father of her child?

That last
question knocked all of the fight out of Jaylah. Watching her fiancé interact with his
pregnant
ex-wife made her feel like the walls of Johnny’s office were closing in. Jaylah had to get out of there. She couldn’t deal with what Fiona’s revelation possibly meant to her life.

Six months.

Jaylah turned on her heels and hurried down the corridor. She repeatedly punched the button for the elevator, hoping it would get to her before Johnny,
or Fiona,
saw her tears.

“Jaylah…” Johnny said, moving swiftly to catch up with her. “Jaylah wait…wait!”

The doors opened just in time and Jaylah jumped on the lift, escaping the horror she found at JPFS. When she reached the ground floor her phone began to ring. Johnny. She pressed ignore and took off running through the courtyard to the nearest subway station, just in case he was able to fly down 27 flights of stairs to find her.

Jaylah’s phone ran
g all the way to Canary Wharf station. She ignored all of Johnny’s calls and descended the stairs of the Tube in a daze. She paced the platform replaying the drama of last few minutes.

Until now,
Jaylah had been unable to put a face to the boogeyman, but after seeing Fiona—poised, porcelain-skinned, stunning Fiona—Jaylah suddenly felt like she couldn’t compete.

Fiona was everything she was not. Jaylah was attractive but she wasn’t polished or sophisticated in the
same way Fiona seemed to be. And while Johnny loved her fiercely, his family, and especially his father, loved Fiona.

What if the Poku clan
never accepted Jaylah and her child? Would Johnny continue to stand by her side, or would he grow to resent giving up his family for her?

Jaylah
felt antsy. She couldn’t go home, Johnny was likely already in a cab heading toward their flat, and she couldn’t call Jourdan and beg her friend to take another break from her project to rescue her
again
.

When
the train finally arrived Jaylah knew where she could go to find a sympathetic ear and someone who would make sure she was okay.

Twenty-Two

Jaylah stood in front of the ornate door trying to convince herself to go home, or to the Tate, or anywhere but Faraj’s flat. At that moment she felt broken in a way only Johnny would understand, but she could not bear seeing him, too afraid he might confirm the fear mounting in her body.

This can’t be happening.
He can’t be the father of Fiona’s baby,
her brain screamed.

T
he timing made it possible. Six months ago he still shared their marital home, still probably slept in their bed, still was her husband. Even though Johnny claimed he hadn’t had been with Fiona since his and Jaylah’s first date, how could she be sure?

A new sense of anger
rose up in Jaylah. If Johnny had lied to her, if he had fathered Fiona’s child, it was over. They were finished; there was no coming back from two babies by two women only a month apart.

How could she stick around
if he’d played her for the fool
again?

Jaylah knocked on Faraj’s door
in need of a little ego stroking, and possibly some revenge. The way she was feeling, either one would do. After a few minutes, she heard him bounding down the stairs and Jaylah tried to erase any evidence of hurt from her eyes. She manufactured a smile and waited for Faraj to open the door.

The look on his face said it all; he was surprised to see her
.

“Jaylah? What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and I thought I would drop by. I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?”

“No, no. Not at all. I was just working on a painting.”

“Oh. I don’t want to wreck your flow. I’ll catch you another time then.”

Jaylah
turned to leave, slightly relieved he was already preoccupied and she wouldn’t make a fool of herself, or do something reckless.

Faraj caught her by the hand.

“No, please stay.” He smiled so brightly Jaylah was briefly dazed. “I always feel more inspired when I see you. Come on up.”

She followed him up the stairs,
trying to keep her eyes off his perfect ass. Faraj was built like a light heavyweight boxer with muscular arms, tight abs, and a strong, capable back. Months ago, after making out in the back of a cab on the way to her place, Jaylah had felt like she’d won a prize when he shed his clothes and exposed his defined physique.

They reached his living room and
Jaylah gravitated toward the photographs lining Faraj’s mantelpiece again, looking at each one as if she was seeing them for the first time.

“Can I take your coat?” he asked, standing behind her.

Jaylah swallowed hard, aware of how close they were to actually touching.

“Sure”

He slipped off her coat, letting his fingers trace the tops of her arms as he removed it. Instead of putting it away, he took a step closer and gently brushed her hair aside.

“You have a
lovely neck, Jaylah,” he whispered. “Perfect for…”

She whipped around to face him, hoping to stop whatever was about to happen
from happening.

“Thanks!”

Faraj smirked. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A glass of wine would be great,” she said, feeling on edge.

Jaylah had gone to Faraj’s looking to take her mind off the scene in Johnny’s office, but as she stood in the middle of his flat, Jaylah wondered if she had made a terrible mistake. Sure getting back at Johnny would feel good in the short term, but was she really ready to do something impetuous and throw away her future before she even had all the answers?

“I hope you don’t mind red.”

Faraj handed her a glass, temporarily quieting the doubt and confusion growing in her mind. Jaylah took a large swig of the wine and waited for the familiar lightheadedness to set in.

He watched her gulp the merlot. “Long day?”

She took another generous swallow. “You could say that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not if we can help it.” Jaylah offered a weak smile, needing to change the subject before saying something she couldn’t take back. “What were you working on when I popped up unannounced?”

“
I’ll show you.” He offered his hand, and after a few seconds of deliberation, she took it.

Faraj led the way, stepping aside for Jaylah to enter once they reached
his painting room. Like last time, the walls were covered in sketches and a canvas sat on an easel in the middle of it all. This time, however, the canvas wasn’t empty; it held the beginnings of a woman’s face.

He led her to a chair
in the corner of the room near the window.

“Sit here.”

Jaylah plopped down, feeling the soothing buzz of the wine. Faraj returned to the easel and started sketching.

She
watched him for a few seconds before realizing what was happening.

“
Are you drawing me?”

He continued
drafting, stealing glances in her direction while his hand moved across the canvas.

“Umm hmm.”

“No, no, no, no, no. You can’t draw me. I’m covering you remember? I can’t be a part of any exhibition. How would that look?”

“This isn’t for the public. It’s a gift.”

She cocked her head to the side. “A gift?”

“Perfect, keep your head
just like that,” Faraj said, his hand feverishly working over the taut fabric.

“What kind of a gift, Faraj?”

“To go with the other one.”

She stared at him
, perplexed. “What other one? What are you talking about?”

He
continued outlining her features, adding details and using his finger to shade lines.

“The one I sent you this afternoon.
Didn’t you get it?”

She thought back over her chaotic day and shivered.
“No. I’ve been out all afternoon. What is it?”

“I sent you the other painting. The one from the gallery exhibit.”

Jaylah gasped. “Of the woman?”

He sm
iled, but kept working. “Of you.”

She was stu
nned. Jaylah was drawn to the painting at the opening because it felt sensual and powerful in a familiar way, but it was also expensive. Faraj could have easily netted thirty or forty thousand pounds for it if he wanted, but he had given it to her instead. Could she accept such an extravagant gift from a man she’d been intimate with?

What would Jo
hnny think

The thought shot through her brain without warning, making her feel uncomfortable.

Jaylah quickly drained her glass of wine. She wanted to forget
about Johnny for a while. She couldn’t stomach the possibility of her life crumbling in such a spectacular way: pregnant by her married fiancé who had possibly also knocked up his ex-wife. The whole thing sounded like a tragic episode of Jerry Springer and Jaylah couldn’t believe she’d gotten herself into such a fucked up predicament again.

“Can I have another glass of wine?”

Faraj added a few more touches to the sketch. “Sure, love.”

When he left the room Jaylah checked her phone: 14 messages. She scrolled through
the texts from Johnny, each asking where she was and why she wasn’t answering the phone. She hit delete, erasing them en masse, but paused when she spotted one from Jourdan.

“Johnny called looking for you. Everything alright, sissy?
??!”

Jaylah
wondered what Johnny was thinking. He must have been going out of his mind if he called Jourdan to locate her. The way she bolted out of his office, Jaylah figured he was afraid she was going to leave him, or jump off Tower Bridge. The idea caused a self-satisfied grin to dance across her face.

Serves him right
,
she thought before replying to Jourdan.

“I’m fine, J. Just clearing my head.
Will explain later. Love you.”

Jaylah
turned off her phone and slipped it back in her purse.

Faraj returned with her
merlot and a suspicious look on his face. “Here you go.”

She
took a gulp and smiled.

“You know
, you can tell me about it right?”

“Tell you about what?” she
asked, trying to ignore his concern.

“
Whatever’s troubling you. Don’t pretend like it’s nothing, Jaylah.”

She shrugged and took another sip. “Shouldn’t you get back to sketching?”

He shook his head and a smirked. “Now you want me to paint you? You don’t have to hide from me, you know.”

Yes, I do
, she shot back in her mind, but didn’t utter a word.

He crouched down in front of her
and Jaylah’s face began to feel warm. “Tell me what’s bothering you, love. Please?”

Jaylah
stared into his dark, glimmering eyes trying to decide what to do. It would be easy to confide in Faraj and unleash the storm of emotions brewing in her belly. But if she told him the whole sordid tale about her and Johnny and Fiona, Jaylah was afraid Faraj would look at her differently, or worse, try to save her.

She
put a hand to the side of his face and traced his stubble with her fingertips.

“It’s a long, long story.”

“I have time.”

She outlined hi
s full lips with her index finger. “And it’s not pretty.”

He kissed her palm. “That’s okay.
Mine aren’t either.”

Jaylah draped her arms around Faraj’s neck. “It’s about me and a
man.”

He nodde
d. “Figured as much.”

“
This man…” she hesitated, “he might be having a baby with someone else, and…”

He put his hand over her heart. “It
hurts right here.”

“
Yes,” Jaylah whispered, trying to dam her tears before they hit her cheeks.

Faraj leaned forward and kissed the spot
where his hand had been. “All better?”

She
chuckled. “I wish.”

He
skimmed his lips across her neck, then hovered over her mouth. “Better?”

Jaylah shook her head.

Faraj kissed one cheek and then the other. “How about now?”

Jaylah held her breath and tried to quell the
craving snaking up her thighs. Faraj was not only incredibly handsome, but he was also achingly tender, only going as far as she would allow.

He found her forehead with his lips. “Any better?”

Jaylah released a lusty sigh. “A little.”

It had been weeks since Bordeaux, weeks since Johnny covered her
body with his, and she yearned for his touch. Jaylah wanted to be back in her flat making love to her man like they did before things got so complicated and hard, but Faraj was right here, offering himself up like an exquisite gift. How could she turn him away?

He met
her gaze and stared into her eyes; Jaylah trembled with nervous excitement when she saw desire flash across his face.

“Tell me what I can do to make you feel better, Jaylah,” Faraj whispered.
“Tell me, please.”

His hands caressed her face like it was a delicate piece of art.
Faraj’s breathing slowed and deepened, and his hunger for Jaylah was palpable. His eyes bore into hers, but he held back, waiting for permission.

Jaylah
knew she could make love to him if she wanted. She knew he would consider it his duty to please her in every way possible. And she knew she would enjoy it.

But w
as she ready to jeopardize what she loved most for a few hours of relief?

“Kiss me,”
Jaylah said before she could take back the words.

Faraj
moved swiftly, pulling her closer and nibbling her bottom lip before kissing both of them. His tongue played against hers and his hands found their way into her thick mass of curls.

Jayl
ah was spinning out of control. Her mind told her to push him away, grab her coat, and run out the door, but her body rebelled, delighting in Faraj’s touch, which ignited the pent-up yearning that had been building for weeks. Jaylah wanted so, so badly to give in.

Faraj pulled back and looked at her.

“What?” she asked, breathless.

“Just admiring you. You’re such a
stunning woman, Jaylah, and you don’t even seem to know it.”

She felt
awkward and exposed under his intense gaze, which seemed to look past her reserved façade to catch a glimpse of who she was on the inside--ardent, wanton, and fiery.

Faraj
found her lips again and slid his hand under her tunic, inching it up her torso until he slipped it over her head and let it fall to the floor. He palmed her breasts, moving his mouth to her neck, sucking her skin gently.