 
## OFF CAMERA AFFAIR 1

#### THE MOTOR CITY DRAMA SERIES

#### By Jazz Jordan

##### SMASHWORDS EDITION

#### PUBLISHED BY:

#### Platinum Life Publishing on Smashwords

#### This novel is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons (living or deceased) is coincidental and a product of the author's imagination.

#### Copyright © 2013 Jazz Jordan

#### All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission.

## Books In This Series:

#### Off Camera Affair 1

#### Off Camera Affair 2

#### Off Camera Affair 3

#### Off Camera Affair 4

## CHAPTER 1

Good sex is harder to find than a pair of Size 11½ stilettos on discount at Nordstrom's. Trust me, the quest for both is exhausting. It's impossible to know what any man has to offer till he pulls down his boxers and unveils the package. Don't get me wrong: Size matters—length and girth—but there's nothing more pitiful than a brotha with porn star-sized equipment but stiff hips or enough stamina to last only about as long as the average YouTube advertisement.

I'd always been as picky about what went on between my thighs as I was about what I put on my feet. In my experience, shoes and men are actually a lot alike: Most stores don't carry my size, and when they do, the style does nothing for me. So what if I can swap footwear with Wendy Williams? As a single sista approaching my thirty-third birthday, I refused to settle for mediocre men or second-rate shoes.

Finally, my fortune seemed to be looking up, because I was wearing a new pair of Prada platform sandals, and I'd finally found a man to indulge all of my fantasies. Deandre Grant, six-three, had skin the color of Hershey's Special Dark. His facial features were sharp and handsome, like Hollywood star Boris Kodjoe's, and I just loved rubbing that smooth, brown dome when Deandre went down on me with that expert mouth of his.

That fine man was a point guard for the Detroit Pistons. He wasn't exactly MVP material, and truthfully, it pained me to admit that he was a benchwarmer. It didn't concern me too much, though, that he didn't have too many skills on the court, because he had all the right moves in the bedroom.

It was a warm August night, but it was about to get even hotter. We'd just returned from Joe Muer Seafood Restaurant. I'd enjoyed the succulent, buttery-sweet crab legs, but I couldn't wait to get him home and savor every inch of his long, juicy third leg. I hadn't seen Deandre in two weeks, and I planned to make up for lost time from midnight till sunrise.

Outside of my twenty-fifth-floor, downtown apartment, the golden lights of the Ambassador Bridge glistened off the rippling surface of the Detroit River. I took in the view of his chiseled body as he stood in front of the sliding-glass doors. He was dressed in a button-down shirt and khakis, but I couldn't help staring at his eight-pack abs and well-defined arms. The radio played, soft and low, on my surround-sound speakers, Rick James and Teena Marie pouring their souls into "Fire and Desire."

"Being with you feels so right," Deandre said.

"The feeling is more than mutual," I replied.

"You're the kind of woman I can take anywhere. It's cool to go to upscale restaurants like that one tonight, but I like knowing you can also roll with me to my favorite mom-and-pop soul food joints too. I guess what I'm tryin' to say is that you're classy but not bougy. And on top of all that, you're fine as hell. You're the whole package."

"Thanks." I looked down at the giant bulge in his jeans. "Speaking of packages..."

He smiled. "Yeah, I've missed you, girl, but he's missed you even more."

"Hold that thought while I change into something a little more comfortable."

Deandre bit his bottom lip. "Don't make me wait too long. It's been two whole weeks already, baby."

"I promise," I said seductively, then sashayed into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. I knew my little hard-to-get game had Deandre frustrated, but no matter how much I like a man, I never make myself too easily available. Most of the time, I let Deandre's calls go straight to voicemail, but unbeknownst to him, I often played his messages over and over again, listening to how horny he sounded: "Kai, hit me back when you get this..."

Despite his career as a pro athlete, Deandre was no different from the other guys I'd been with. The more I ignored him, the more he wanted me. Years ago, I'd discovered that giving my heart to a man would only open the door for him to break it. I had no intention of feeling like one of the main characters in _Waiting To Exhale_ , so I learned to avoid love like Payless shoes.

I slipped out of my sundress and into my black lace and satin negligee. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror—five-ten, with long legs, thick thighs, curvy hips, and perky tits that defied gravity. I have copper-colored, smooth skin and bedroom eyes the same shade as dark brown sugar. Although my flowing, shoulder-length hair was in a Remi weave at that time, it appeared to be growing right out of my scalp.

I turned around and glanced at myself from behind. My ass was the main source of my body insecurity. Unlike many sistas, who strut around with their donkey booties bouncing and jiggling, my rear-end looks like two pancakes. No matter how much fried chicken or sweet potato pie I ate, it's remained stubbornly flat. Even when I gained weight, it only grew wider, never rounder. In high school, I was teased so badly for my flat ass that I manned the burger grill at Wendy's after school just so I could afford an assortment of butt-boosters. However, whenever I slid into my padded underwear, boys and grown men alike craned their necks to watch me walk past them at the park on 7 Mile or around the food court at Northland Mall; I always came home with at least three phone numbers. On the days when I didn't wear my butt pads, I was hard pressed to even get a glance from the grimiest dude.

I was happy that Deandre didn't seem to care that my derriere wasn't _KING_ Magazine material. I took one last look at my reflection and went into the kitchen, then called out, "I've got something for you, sexy." I poured two glasses of Hennessy Privilege and carried them into the living room.

Deandre grinned at the sight of me. "You know just what I like."

I handed one of the glasses to him. "Are you talking about the cognac or this?" I took a shoulder strap down, exposing half of my left breast.

He stood up and wrapped one hand around my waist, then pulled me close to his body, till we were face to face. My heartbeat quickened as I looked into his dark eyes; I felt his erection against my belly. When he teasingly slid his hand between my thighs and under my thong and fondled my clit with his middle finger, my panties were instantly moist, and I let out a little sigh.

"You know something? I get rock hard every time I watch the Channel 5 News. You're the sexiest reporter I've ever seen."

"Oh yeah?" I smiled.

"I didn't give a damn about current events till I met you. Now I know the names of everyone on the damn City Council..." He moved his hand up to my left breast and rubbed his thumb over my nipple until it hardened. "The police chief..." He grabbed my right breast. "The deputy mayor... You schooled me on all that, Reese's."

I laughed. "Deandre, how'd you come up with that nickname for me?"

"'Cause you taste like chocolate and peanut butter when you cum on my tongue."

I bit my bottom lip. "So...watching me report the news really turns you on, huh?"

He nodded. "It's something about the way you hold that microphone."

I slid my hand down his ripped stomach and stroked his dick through his pants. I was anxious to feel him inside of me, but I wanted him to keep his clothes on just a little longer; I like to tease before I please. I stroked him slowly and whispered, "This is Kai Lewis, reporting live. Tonight, there's breaking news—a really, really, really big story—and I've got the exclusive."

He closed his eyes and moaned. "Damn, Reese's! The way you touch me makes me feel like I'm gonna—"

Buzzzz!

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by the doorbell, and I already knew exactly who it was.

## CHAPTER 2

Luther Vandross crooned "Love Won't Let Me Wait" on the radio, and the sultry song echoed my desires. Midnight was only minutes away, and I'd been looking forward to spending some time in my bedroom with Deandre Grant, but my sexual high faded with the sound of my door buzzer. Deandre's dark eyes followed me as I frowned and walked across the room to press the intercom button.

"Kai, it's me!" my sister's voice replied.

"You couldn't have picked a worse time, LaNaya."

"Kai, please just let me stay here tonight. It's an emergency, and—"

"Why don't you go to Mama's house?"

"You know I can't. That's the first place he'll look for me. Kai, please!"

Against my better judgment, I pressed the button to let her in. "It's my sister," I explained to Deandre as I slipped into my silk robe.

"You want me to leave?"

"No way, I'm not letting you go anywhere. Hopefully, it won't take long to sort out her latest crisis, and then we'll pick up where we left off."

He winked. "Sounds like a plan, sexy."

A moment later, LaNaya knocked on my door. I studied her through the peephole for a moment. Her short, wavy hair was slicked back off of her forehead, and her nutmeg complexion was covered with a thick coat of foundation. She was wearing false eyelashes and bright gold lipstick, along with a black, midriff top that didn't look provocative on her because she hardly had any tits at all. Even after giving birth to two children and breastfeeding them until they could eat solid foods, LaNaya could still fit into her first training bra. When we were teenagers, she sent away for a mail-order cream that promised to make her breasts grow a full cup size, but all LaNaya got from Madame Madelyn's Magic Mammary Cream was a nasty rash across her chest.

Her low-rise jeans were a size too small, and I could see the top of her neon-pink thong peeking out over her waistband. Beyoncé, J Lo, Kim Kardashian, and Serena Williams combined had nothing on my sister when it came to her booty, which had literally become her career. Her earnings from dancing in rap videos and strip clubs across the Metro Area rivaled mine, and I'd always been jealous of her phat ass and the fact that she managed to support herself without ever working a legitimate job. On the other hand, she'd always been quite envious of my big tits and my college education. Even though LaNaya is two years older than me, I've always felt like her big sister.

When she knocked again, I finally opened the door and snapped, "What the hell, LaNaya?"

"Thanks for letting me stay here tonight." She opened her arms to hug me.

I gave her a quick squeeze. Up close, she smelled like Newport cigarettes and perfume.

She walked inside and glanced over at Deandre. "Oh, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting y'all."

I took a deep breath. "Deandre, this is my sister, LaNaya."

He grinned at her. "Hey."

"You're the NBA player, right? The real, life baller? Kai told me about you."

Deandre looked over at me as if he'd just won the championship. "She did, huh? And just what did she say?"

I yawned. "It's getting late. We can all chitchat some other time," I said, anxious to change the topic. I didn't want Deandre to know I'd told my family about him, because I didn't want him to put more stock into our relationship than what it was worth; he was just a booty call, for the time being. Besides, even if I did catch some deeper feelings for Deandre, I would never reveal that to him. If the man knew he had my body and my heart, the chase would be over, and I'd just be one in a string of desperate va-jay-jays looking for action. I wouldn't lower myself to that level—not for Deandre or any man, baller or not.

"Wait... Didn't you used to play for the Dallas Mavericks?" she asked.

He nodded.

"What'd you average? About seven minutes a game?"

"Something like that, but that was one of the reasons the Mavericks didn't make the playoffs."

LaNaya sniffed the air. "What y'all sippin' on up in here? Is that yak I smell? Let me get some of that." She plopped down on my couch as if I'd invited her. "I'm celebrating my independence tonight! I'm a free woman now!"

"Free? Girl, please! You been trying to dump Javon since high school," I said. "Y'all are too toxic to ever end, like a modern-day Ike and Tina."

"Kai, don't go putting my business out there like that. And I ain't no soft bitch! I don't let Javon hit me without hitting him back. I give as good as I get. But that don't even matter now, 'cause I'm done with his ass."

"Right. Let's see how long you stay away from that fool this time. I give it a week, tops."

"I'm about to show you how wrong you are, sis." She unzipped her purse while singing Ne-Yo's "Miss Independent" in a nasally voice that made me cringe. As she sang, she counted the wad of cash she now held in her hand: _"She got her own thing..._ $500. _That's why I love her..._ $1,000. _Miss Independent..._ $2,000. _'Cause she work like a boss..._ $3,000. _Play like a boss..._ $4,000. _Her favorite thing to say, 'Don't worry. I got it!'..._ $5,000. _Miss Independent!_ That's $5,000, baby!"

"How in the hell did you make $5,000 in one night?" I wanted to know.

"Yeah, what kinda job you got?" Deandre asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the cash. "Looks like you're the baller."

"Let me put it this way. I got a new gig! I quit Gold Diggers. This is enough for a deposit and first month's rent on a new apartment...and it ain't gon' be no raggedy-ass joint next door to the projects either. I'm movin' on up! I might even be your new neighbor, sis."

"Where in the world are you working, LaNaya?" I asked. "Better yet, I don't even wanna know."

"Did you say Gold Diggers? Ain't that the titty bar on Livernois, next to all them abandoned buildings?"

"You've been there?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Naw. I don't run up in places like that, but I've heard all types of foul shit about the chicks who work there."

My stomach dropped; I couldn't tell if he was lying or not. I wondered if he'd seen my sister popping her big booty on the stripper pole or maybe even paid her for a lap dance. I had to wonder if he'd fucked her in the champagne room, and the thought made me so queasy I almost could have vomited right then and there. I took a sip of cognac to steady my nerves, determined not to let them see me tripping.

LaNaya cut her eyes at him. "I just said I don't work there no more!"

I touched my forehead and massaged my temples. "I'm getting a headache." I pulled on Deandre's arm. "We're goin' to bed. Please put a sheet down if you're gonna stay. Last time you slept on my couch, it took me an hour to vacuum up all the damn body glitter."

"Relax, Miss Neat Freak. I'll put a damn sheet down. But what I really need to know is where you keep that yak."

"In the cabinet on top of the dishwasher...and don't drink it all!"

She hustled to kitchen like a kid running after an ice cream truck.

I was sure she'd guzzle down every drop of my Hennessy Privilege before sunrise. _The girl never knows when to stop,_ I thought. Too much drama, too much bling, and too much alcohol. Then again, excessive was a way of life in our family. With Mama, it was food. With me—well, sexaholic comes to mind. It isn't that I like to sleep around, but whenever I did find a brotha who'd fulfill my desires, my judgment was often compromised.

As LaNaya scurried across the room to get to the liquor, I noticed Deandre taking a glance at her bouncy ass. I couldn't really blame him; LaNaya's ass had caused traffic accidents, and men behind the wheels of brand new cars had run red lights and crashed right into trees just because they were distracted by the sight of my sister in her too-tight jeans. Despite that, I still felt so disrespected. I couldn't believe he'd have the nerve to check her out with me standing right there beside him, about to take him to bed. I wanted to tell him to get the fuck out of my apartment, but I didn't want LaNaya to realize there might be trouble on the homefront. She thought my life was perfect, and she might have been right if I hadn't had to deal with all of her melodramatic shit.

In my bedroom, Deandre was on top of me, kissing my neck and cupping my breasts. I felt his stiff dick against my crotch. I wanted him badly, but I was still pissed about him taking a peek at LaNaya's booty.

"Damn, baby, I don't think I ever been this hard," he said, which I knew was bullshit.

"Didn't you hear me say I have a headache?"

"Yeah, but what I got is better than aspirin."

"It's not gonna happen tonight, so get off me."

"That's what I'm tryin' to do, baby—get off. You gonna blue-ball me?" he asked, his voice so loud that I was sure LaNaya could hear him.

I whispered, "Let's just try to get some sleep."

He rolled over, pulled his dick out of the slit in his boxers, and began to stroke it. It was long and dark and dripping with pre-cum. Normally, I would have celebrated that like I was on paid vacation, but I was too mad to be horny, so I just turned my back on him.

"If you ain't gonna gimme no pussy, I'll have to get the job done myself," he said.

I listened to the sounds of him jacking off for another minute or two, but I said nothing.

A minute later he said, "Lift that thing up and let me cum on your titties."

"Hell no!"

"Then where you gonna let me cum?" Then, just like that, he grunted and muttered, "Reese's! Oh, Reese's!" over and over again.

Before I could tell him to leave me the fuck alone, I felt his warm sperm squirt on the back of my thighs. I looked up at him like he was on crack.

After he finished, Deandre lay on his back and closed his eyes. Seconds later, he was snoring.

Knock! Knock!

Oh my God. Now what? I thought. "What!?"

LaNaya slurred, "Wh-where you keep your shits...er...your sheets again, si-sis?" she said, then let out a hiccup like a drunken sailor.

I climbed out of bed carefully because I didn't want to get Deandre's cum all over my sheets; it was bad enough that it was all over my legs. Usually, I climaxed two or three times before he did, but LaNaya had interrupted any chance at a memorable sexcapade. I cleaned myself off with a fresh towel and called out to her, "Gimme a minute!"

"Oops! My bad. Is you...was y'all fuckin'? Oh shit. I'm sorry. I just need a sheet."

"I said to gimme a minute! Damn, LaNaya!" I looked over at Deandre, who was snoring like a wild animal, oblivious. It wasn't at all how I'd envisioned our night, and my sister, with her phat ass and her drama, was all to blame.

## CHAPTER 3

"Damn! You feel so good in my pussy! I bet my sister don't know what to do with a dick like this!"

When I heard the yelling, I opened my bedroom door to the sight of my sister bent over the couch while Deandre fucked her doggie-style. "What the hell!?" I screamed. "LaNaya, how could you do this to me? All I've ever done is try to help your triflin' ass. And Deandre? My God! Of all the bitches in the world, you had to go and stick your dick in my sister! I can't believe this shit! Both of y'all need to get the fuck outta here right now!"

Like dogs fucking in the front yard, they completely ignored me. I thought I was gonna have to find a garden hose and spray the hell out of them to get them to stop.

LaNaya backed her booty up on Deandre, and he smacked it hard. "I wish Kai had an ass like this," he said shamelessly, not caring at all that I was standing there.

I ran into the kitchen and grabbed my biggest, thickest butcher knife, certain that a ten-inch blade would get their attention, since talking to them was like talking to a brick wall. I was minutes away from becoming the city's top news story, and I could almost hear the reporter: _"This just in! Live, from downtown Detroit, Channel 5's own Kai Lewis has stabbed her sister, exotic dancer, LaNaya Lewis and her lover, Pistons point guard, Deandre Grant, in a jealous rage. Kai, a very talented and usually very professional journalist, was arrested for the heinous crime and is currently in police custody. What happened here is a sobering reminder that anyone is capable of unspeakable things when it comes to matters of the heart. Please stay tuned for more developments."_

I stood behind them with the knife raised high in the air, looking like Kathy Bates in _Misery._ For the first time in my life, I understood the meaning of temporary insanity. In the past, I'd always thought it was just an excuse fast-talking defense attorneys made to help criminals avoid responsibility. Now, I knew it was real. I was about to ruin everything, but I was too numbed by rage to reason with myself or think rationally. Images of my future flashed in my mind: orange jumpsuits, nasty food, and horny women licking their chops for a chance to turn me out.

Still, somewhere beneath all that fury, a rational voice stopped me. I had to walk away. Deandre wasn't worth it, and even though my sister was acting like _Ho of the Year,_ I couldn't hurt her and orphan my niece and nephew in the process. I dropped the knife, and the sound of the sharp blade clanging against the hardwood floor caused them to finally turn in my direction. I expected to see fear in their eyes, so I was shocked when they just smiled at me, then began chuckling like I was the opening act for _The Queens of Comedy;_ LaNaya giggled so hard that her eyes began to water, and Deandre laughed and patted his stomach.

Suddenly, I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, thankful to be delivered from the horrible nightmare. _It was just a dream...just a dream,_ I repeated over and over again in my mind. But it felt so real. With the back of my trembling hand, I wiped the sweat off my forehead, then glanced at the glowing red digits on my alarm clock; it was almost four o'clock in the morning. I rolled over, expecting to see Deandre there, but I only saw crumpled sheets instead.

As my head cleared, I heard laughter coming from the living room, along with the low voices of LaNaya and Deandre. It was eerie how much the moment reminded me of my dream. I pictured them on my couch, groping one another, but I tried to put the thought out of my mind and relax. I had a lifelong habit of thinking the worst about people, especially females, my sister in particular.

I tiptoed to my bedroom door. I considered pretending that I had to go to the bathroom, but I didn't want LaNaya or Deandre to know how insecure I was. I held my breath and pressed my ear to the door to eavesdrop.

"So...that's what you really think about me?" my sister asked.

"Look, I know my boy Rico be on some crazy shit, but what you did was wrong," he said. "He told me all about meeting you in the club. When I saw you tonight, I knew right away that you were Candy Apple."

"Hmm. Did my ass give me away?"

He laughed. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"You broke Rico's heart, ya know. He even shed a tear for you."

"What? He thought I was gonna hop in his limo just 'cause he gets paid to shoot a basketball? Please! What would I look like goin' home with his cheap ass? He was barely makin' it drizzle with them one-dollar bills he was throwing at me. I'm glad he got traded to San Antonio."

"Don't be so hard on him. Pretty-boys like Rico ain't used to being turned down."

"I ain't trippin' off of that Shemar Moore-lookin' motherfucka. If a man's gonna step to me, he best bring his A-game. I'm talking Crystal, not _Coors."_

He laughed. "Damn, girl. Rico only offered to buy you a beer? Well, one thing about him, he don't ever pay a penny more than he has to. When we were on the road, he didn't even eat at the steakhouses with the rest of the team."

"Why not?"

"He was always over at Subway, gettin' those five-dollar foot-longs."

"Well, my mama taught me you can be pennywise and pound foolish."

"What's that mean?"

"It means some things are worth payin' for," LaNaya said. "When Rico saw a dime like me, he shoulda realized that right away. But forget him anyway. I'm done with ballers."

"Not all of us are bad."

"And let me guess. You're one of the good ones?"

"One of the best ones."

"In my line of work, I've gotta be able to scope a nigga out quickly, or else I don't get paid. First, I check out the body language. If he's leaning back in his chair, just chillin', he's trying to look like he ain't stressed. That means he's probably got a lot on his mind. If he makes eye contact and smiles—like you're doing right now—it means he's full of shit."

Deandre laughed. "Hold up. I thought eye contact was a good thing."

"That depends."

"My daddy taught me to always look people in the eye, and he told me not to trust anybody who won't do the same."

"Well, maybe, but that still don't explain that big-ass grin on your face."

"Well, I can't help it. I've got a lot to be happy about," he said, then whispered something so low I couldn't hear it.

## CHAPTER 4

I leaned against my bedroom door, listening to LaNaya and Deandre talk in the living room. Nosing in on people's conversations really wasn't my style, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to hear what my lover had to say to my stripper/video vixen/newly single sister. Suddenly, though, I had to sneeze. I didn't want them to know I was awake, so I held my index finger under my nose and took a deep breath. Controlling my bodily functions proved easier than revealing my insecurities as the sensation to sneeze subsided.

"I'm really glad I met you tonight," Deandre said.

"Oh yeah?"

"I didn't even know if Kai was feelin' me like that. I can't believe she told you about me."

"Yeah, that's my sister for ya. Kai's pretty low key when it comes to her love life. She kicked it with this one dude for two years before she ever mentioned him. She's secretive with her shit."

"Do you think it's too soon to tell her?"

"She probably already knows."

"After I broke up with my baby-mama, I didn't think I'd—"

"Hold up. How many kids you got?"

"Damn, what you gon' ask me like that for? I only got one, all right? My son Corey will be seven next month. That little dude is my whole world," he explained.

Deandre's child was no secret to me. He'd already shown me a gallery of pictures of the cute, brown-eyed boy on his iPhone and his iPad.

"My bad, but some of y'all ballers have a dozen in every state."

"Not this baller. I believe in strapping up. I don't need no _Maury Show_ drama in my life."

I also knew that to be true; whenever Deandre was with me, he always pulled out a Magnum.

"Good. That's smart, 'cause I know a lotta girls who'd love to get knocked up by a baller."

"You one of 'em?" Deandre asked.

"Nah, you see how I roll. I believe in making my own money, just like Kai. We just have...different ways of going about it."

He laughed.

"But I see why you like my sister so much. She really has her shit together."

"Being in the league, I meet all kinds of women, but even back in high school, the girls treated me like I was some kinda god, just 'cause of my moves on the court. It really fucked with my head. Then I met Kai. She's different, and she don't trip off my NBA lifestyle. I love that about her."

"Be careful with the l-word. That'll scare her off," she warned.

My sister knew me well, because that was very true. I would have rather bungee-jumped off the Mackinac Bridge than experience the out-of-control emotion of love again. Heartbreak had made me into such a cliché: I didn't eat, didn't sleep, and I soaked hundreds of little white tissues with my mascara-stained tears. My depression deepened whenever I heard Toni Braxton crooning "Another Sad Love Song" on the radio. Worst of all, I almost lost my dream job! There was no way in hell I was going to risk putting myself through that again.

"I don't buy it. Every woman wants to be loved."

"Did your father teach you that too?"

"No doubt. My old man had a way with the ladies, but he used to tell me, 'Son, don't play no games when the right one comes along.'"

LaNaya laughed. "I'm happy for my little sister. Clearly, Kai's got herself a good man."

"I'm glad you feel that way, because I'm ready to make it official with her."

"Do you plan to turn my sister into a wifey and give me some nieces and nephews, the whole nine?"

"I can't rule that out."

"Well, Kai is thirty-two, and she's never even been engaged. Good luck trying to putting a ring on it," she said.

At that point, I wanted to choke my sister for running her mouth too damn much, one of her many bad habits. How dare she tell him that? I didn't want Deandre to know that no man had ever proposed to me before; it made me seem like a picked-over piece of fruit.

"Maybe none of them other dudes measured up, but I think I got what it takes," he said.

"I know what you got. You got it bad."

"At first, Kai was just another pretty face, but the next thing I knew, I was thinkin' 'bout her all the time."

" _You got it... You got it bad..."_ LaNaya sang, sounding nothing at all like Usher. She paused for a moment, looked at him seriously, and said, "Real talk, Deandre, you seem like a good dude."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause you didn't try to fuck me."

"That would be some grimy shit. I wouldn't do nothing to hurt Kai."

"When I first saw you...I'm not gonna lie, I thought you were like the other ballers I know, on a mission to smash as many chicks as possible. I'm glad to see you're different. Kai deserves a good man."

"And I'm gonna be that."

"She's a good woman, and I'm not just sayin' that 'cause she's my sister. She's been through a lot with men. I hear you talking all this shit about love, and it sounds real good, but talk is cheaper than Rico."

"I promise you it ain't just talk, but I'll let my actions speak for me."

"True dat."

"I'd better get back in bed with Miss Kai. Goodnight."

"Do me a favor. Don't tell Rico you ran into me."

Deandre chuckled. "No problem."

"Take care."

I heard Deandre's footsteps approaching my bedroom door. As I hurried toward the bed, I stubbed my toe on the corner of the wooden frame. I wanted to scream out like a woman in labor, but I pressed my lips together tightly instead and slowly climbed back into my king-sized bed. My left pinky toe felt like somebody had banged it with a sledgehammer, and my eyes watered from the pain. I turned my head toward the window so Deandre wouldn't see my frowned-up expression when he opened the door.

A few seconds later, Deandre walked inside and lay down next to me. He pressed his body up against mine in a spooning position and gently stroked my neck and shoulders. The sensation of his touch almost made me forget about my throbbing toe. He held me closer, kissed my cheek, and whispered, "I got big plans for us, Reese's. You'll see."

I smiled through my tears at the realization that Deandre was falling in love with me. Even though I'd built concrete walls around my heart and told myself over and over again that he was just a booty call, what we shared went deeper than that. If it had only been about sex, I wouldn't have dated him exclusively for four months, and I definitely wouldn't have been so intimidated by LaNaya's visit. I was relieved that he didn't try anything with her. It felt so good to know Deandre was all mine.

#### * * *

In the morning, there was no sign of LaNaya, but I was happy to see a neatly folded bed sheet on the couch cushion and a note that read, "Thanks, sis!" with a cute little smiley face scribbled at the bottom.

Deandre walked up behind me. "I'm hungry, Kai," he said.

"I could make some pancakes if you want."

"You're my breakfast, Reese's." With that, Deandre turned me around and slid his hand up my negligee. He caressed my stomach and thighs, then slowly worked his finger inside of my warm folds.

I quivered from the sensation as his touch made me wetter and wetter.

Suddenly, he dropped to his knees, and I couldn't help but scream out when his tongue made contact with my clit. He kept licking as I climaxed, causing me to holler until I was hoarse.

It felt so incredible that I was tempted to yell, "I love you!" Instead, I smiled down and said, "It's your turn, sexy."

I was eager to return the favor, even though I didn't go down on every guy I slept with. Some men couldn't be trusted, some didn't deserve it, and some had a tendency to get too obsessive afterward. If I did decide to kiss a man below the belt, I made it count. Superhead had nothing on me!

My pussy was still soaking wet and throbbing from Deandre's gifted mouth. He sat on the couch, and I pulled his boxers down. His huge, brown dick glistened in the morning sunlight. I flicked my tongue over the tip of his mushroom and slowly inserted him into my mouth.

He moaned as I sucked harder and faster. He bit his bottom lip, and his legs began to tremble a little. "Damn, Reese's. Come ride it," he begged.

Seconds later, I was sliding a condom on him. I climbed on top and straddled him with my long legs. I slowly brought my pussy down on his hard dick and rotated my hips.

Deandre grabbed my breasts and licked my nipples. He looked up at me, locked his gorgeous eyes on mine, and said, "It's got your name all over it."

At the sound of his voice and the feel of him thundering between my thighs, I came so intensely that my body felt weak.

After a few more strokes, Deandre muttered, "Shit, baby, I'm about to cum too." He held my body closer as he grunted, repeating my nickname over and over again, "Reese's, Reese's, Reese's..."

A few moments later, our movements slowed, and we collapsed into each other, nearly out of breath. The aroma of our lovemaking filled the air. We smiled at each other while sharing a glass of ice water.

"You amaze me," Deandre said, then took a long sip.

"Well, you're not so bad yourself."

"You know, you're the first woman I've really connected with since I broke up with my baby-mama."

"Really?" I said, trying to act surprised and pretend I hadn't heard him say the exact same thing to LaNaya.

"I guess...well, I wanted to ask you, uh..."

"Go ahead. Speak your mind."

"I think we should...make it official," he said slowly, cautiously.

I grinned. "Are you asking me to be your woman, Deandre?"

He nodded.

I was both excited and afraid. The safest thing would have been to tell him no, but it was absolutely impossible to turn him down with that handsome face of his.

He sensed my hesitation and took my hand. "I'll do whatever I can to make you happy and keep you that way. So...what's it gonna be?"

"Hmm. Well, I'd say my answer begins with the letter Y."

"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!" He smiled and kissed me.

So, just like that, we made it official, and I had something I hadn't had in years: a boyfriend!

## CHAPTER 5

"Here you go, Ms. Lewis," Madison said with a smile as she handed me a large Styrofoam cup filled with cappuccino. Madison was a petite girl with honey-brown skin; short, spiky hair; and a mouthful of silver braces. Her hazel eyes blinked at me from behind her wireframe glasses. I wasn't sure exactly how old she was, but I doubted she could get into a club without a fake ID. As an intern for Channel 5, she was very eager, but she was also a little awkward. I couldn't blame the girl; I remembered what it was like, because twelve years earlier, I'd been in her shoes.

I took a sip of the steamy beverage. "Thanks. This is good."

"I sprinkled some cinnamon on top and used cane sugar, like you told me."

I liked Madison, and it wasn't only because she could whip up a Starbucks-style cappuccino. Unlike some of the other interns, who moaned and groaned when we asked them do mundane tasks, like make copies and order lunch, Madison always flashed her pleasant smile and said, "Sure!" Also, the girl was never, ever on CP time! No matter how late we worked at the station, she was at her desk promptly at six thirty every morning.

Madison was inspired by my rise from intern to the station's top investigative reporter. The first time she met me, she said, "You must have worked really hard to make it this far."

I told her, "Maybe I'm not working hard enough. I haven't made anchor yet."

"Oh, you will. You've got that whole Tyra Banks/Robin Roberts thing going on. I mean, you're really pretty, Ms. Lewis, but you're also a serious journalist."

I smiled at the comparison; I would have loved to have even just a taste of the success those women had enjoyed, and it was something I thought about everyday. For the time being, though, I was trying to make the most of it in the D. I knew things could be much worse. Some reporters had to slum it in small-media markets like Tupelo, Mississippi and Norfolk, Nebraska. At least I was with my family, and while Detroit was far from perfect, it was never boring. The crazy stuff that happened in Motown was more entertaining than any plot Hollywood could dream up. Every time a politician was indicted or a kinky sex scandal was uncovered, it was paradise for a news junkie like me.

On the company website, my biography referred to me as "a proud graduate of Cass Tech High School and Wayne State University." There were also a few sentences about me volunteering at a nonprofit organization for disadvantaged youth on the East Side and how I enjoyed reading Walter Mosley novels in my spare time. What the biography was lacking was the real reason why I'd become such a rising star at Channel 5.

I didn't want to tell Madison, my would-be protégé, about my secret résumé, but it wasn't because I was ashamed of the path I'd taken to career advancement. Many successful women wouldn't hesitate to do what I had done. In fact, my sister did it every night, and she had a lot less to show for it. Still, there was something about Madison's schoolgirl, naïve, almost innocent smile that made me want to shield her from that sinister part of the news business like a mama bear protecting her cub from predators.

"Now that you've got me all caffeinated and sugared up, let's get to work," I said.

Madison walked behind me through the chaotic newsroom. People were shouting, telephones were ringing, and monitors, computers, and various digital devices were blinking, blipping, buzzing, and beeping all around us.

I turned down the hallway and opened the door to my editing suite.

The small room was dark, except for the glow of several flat-screen televisions. My editor banged his sausage-like fingers on the keyboard. Sam was a big man, six-four and about 300 pounds. He looked like he should have been chasing down a running back in Ford Field, and I was surprised when I learned that he'd never set foot on a football field. All he'd ever wanted to do was edit, and he was fantastic at it.

Sam really knew how to tell a story with video. The previous year, thanks to his help, my special news report about the revival of downtown Detroit had been nominated for a local Emmy. If Sam wanted to, he could have easily packed up and moved to New York to work for one of the big TV networks, but he was far too in love with Coney dogs, Red Wings games, and the Woodward Dream Cruise to ever leave Motor City.

Sam pushed loose strands of blond hair off his high forehead and looked up at us. "Top of the mornin' to you," he said.

"Hey, Sam. How's it looking?" I asked.

"Well, I been at this for fourteen hours, and to be honest, I'm still not happy with it. I really want you to bring home a gold statue this time. You deserve it, Kai."

"Thanks. Can I take a peek at what you've got so far?"

Sam smirked, as he didn't like to reveal his masterpieces early, but then he hit the spacebar on his keyboard, and my face filled up the screen. In the video, I was wearing a hunter-green blazer and a cream-colored shell top. My Victoria's Secret push-up bra transformed my tits into the main attraction. The wind was trying to assault my hair, but my stylist was such a genie with the flatiron that my natural hair and my weave blended together flawlessly and would withstand even a hurricane. Not to sound stuck up, but I looked like I belonged on the cover of _Essence_ , except for the pimple between my meticulously tweezed brows. Despite the layers of airbrushed makeup, I couldn't help but think about my nephew's three-eyed alien stuffed toy, and high-definition video only gave my zit a large shadow all its own. Nevertheless, I tried to concentrate on the footage rather than the fact that I looked like the "Before" picture in a Proactiv commercial.

In the video, I was standing in front of a brick warehouse. I walked toward the camera and said, "The city that was the birthplace of the automobile and was once known as the 'Paris of the Midwest' has been ravaged by poverty. These days, one of the fastest-growing businesses in Detroit is happening far away from the assembly line...

"Sex has become a major commodity. The city's police force reports that prostitution-related arrests have increased by over 34 percent in the past 2 years. Unfortunately, underage girls are driving this demand. Today, we meet fifteen-year-old Tymeisha. She should be out enjoying time with friends and preparing to take her driving exam, like other children her age, but Tymeisha has dropped out of high school and is now earning hundreds of dollars a day in the world's oldest profession..."

"Looking good, Kai," a man said from the doorway of the editing suite.

I knew who he was before I even turned around; I had heard his voice on television, in staff meetings, and moaning my name during our marathon lovemaking sessions. "It's a work in progress," I explained.

Frank Anderson was the lead news anchor for Channel 5. He had a bronze complexion, naturally wavy black hair, suave features, and a dimpled smile. I knew every crevice of his muscular body that was hiding under his Hugo Boss suit. My pussy tingled with the memory of his slightly curved, ten-inch dick, and the scent of his cologne filled my nose.

Every time I saw him, I was reminded of what we'd once shared. I recalled the giddy feeling I used to get whenever he walked into the room. I could still remember his kisses and promises. I remembered that I'd even started to subscribe to bridal magazines and practice signing my name as "Mrs. Kai Anderson."

I was so in love with Frank that I couldn't see the truth about him until it was too late. After we broke up three years ago, I promised myself that I would only maintain a professional relationship with him. Unfortunately, quitting Frank cold turkey was harder than turning down a free sample of Godiva chocolate, and the fact that we worked together really complicated things.

When Frank came around, looking and smelling so good, he put my fragile willpower to the test. Sometimes, I was just too weak to resist the man. I'd fucked him under his desk, on the elevator, and in the utility closet too many times to count. When he was deep inside of me, I closed my eyes and tried to pretend there wasn't a gold band on his ring finger. I never wanted to be the kind of chick who'd sleep with a married man, but "never" seemed impossible when it came to Frank.

It had been seven months since my last interlude with him, and I was very proud of myself for having brushed off his advances for so long. Only God knew how I managed to pull that off and leave him alone. I hadn't even hugged the man recently, for fear of one thing leading to another. Now, I had an even better reason to stay away from Frank.

For the past few weeks, Deandre and I had been spending all of our free time together. When we couldn't see each other, we texted all day and video-chatted on Skype at night.

I'd forgotten how good it feels to be with a man who was single and available, all mine. With Deandre, there were no phone conversations held in hushed tones or abruptly canceled dates, and I was looking forward to spending New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day with him at my side, as opposed to sitting in my apartment alone, drinking Arbor Mist, watching _Waiting To Exhale_ on DVD, and hating everything to do with midnight kisses and cupid. No matter what, I wasn't going to allow Frank to ruin what I had with Deandre.

Frank grinned and asked, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I'm listening," I said.

"I mean...privately."

"Sorry. I'm in the middle of working on this."

"It can't wait, Kai. It's kind of...time sensitive."

I sighed. "What is it, Frank?"

"I'll wait for you in my office. We can discuss it there."

"All right. I'll stop by when I finish up here." I took another sip of my cappuccino. The way he looked into my eyes gave me flashbacks of our intimate times together. I was so nervous that I spilled a few drops of coffee on my pink blouse, right between my breasts; Frank's presence always brought out my clumsy side.

He stared hungrily at my chest for a moment, like he wanted to lick the sticky-sweet spot right off my blouse, then said, "I hope you have something else to change into." He looked down at his platinum Rolex. "Don't keep me waiting too long, Kai. I've gotta drive up to Lansing for the governor's luncheon."

As he walked away, I try to wipe away the brown stains, but I only succeeded at making more of mess. I had no desire to be alone with Frank in his office, but I really didn't have a choice. He wasn't my direct manager, but he was, technically, my superior. As the lead anchor at the station, he might as well have been everybody's boss.

"How rude," Sam muttered under his breath. "Why that guy commands a seven-figure salary is beyond me."

"Huh? He makes a million dollars?" Madison asked, wide-eyed.

"Probably more," I explained.

"I wouldn't even know what to do with that much money."

"Whatever you do, don't ever lose your sense of humility like he did," I said. "Why don't you both take a break, okay? I'll be right back. I wanna get this over with."

## CHAPTER 6

I walked down the hallway to Frank's office, my heart beating faster with each step. There had been a time when my love for him had invaded my emotions, overridden my senses. Back then, his dimpled smile was all I wanted to see, his Armani cologne was all I wanted to smell, his voice calling my name was all I wanted to hear, his soft lips were all I wanted to taste, and his dick thrusting inside my wet pussy was all I needed to feel. That time had passed, but I couldn't help remembering it now and then. I took a deep breath and knocked on his door.

"Come in," he said.

I opened the door and stepped inside, wearing an oversized Channel 5 t-shirt that fit me like a tent.

He smiled. "Real cute, Kai."

"What do you want?"

"Have a seat."

I sat down in the chair across from him. There were plaques for various awards on his walls, dozens of trophies on his shelf, and pictures of him with politicians, celebrities, and world leaders like Nelson Mandela and Kofi Annan. My heart dropped when I saw the photo of Frank and his wife on a yacht, holding glasses of champagne and grinning in the sunlight.

That should be my life. I'm prettier than her. Tisha had beady, gray eyes and a big forehead. Her only attractive feature was her mouth, with very full lips; I figured that was all that mattered to Frank, because he'd always been a sucker for a good blowjob. Tisha also had a mane of wavy hair that fell down to the middle of her back, and every strand of it was real! I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little jealous, because under my weave, my real hair was only about three inches long. Some people claimed she looked like Sade, but I thought that was a bit of a stretch. Maybe she could pass for the soul singer's distant cousin—maybe.

Not only was I better looking that Tisha, but I was also more accomplished. Hell, she'd never even worked. I guess you could say she was born with a platinum spoon in her mouth, because her father owned the second-largest steel manufacturing company in Michigan. Tisha got her undergrad at Spelman and earned a master's degree from Yale, but for her, college was more about looking for matrimony than a higher education. For women like her, finding and being married to a husband like Frank was her career.

I didn't fully understand why he chose to stay with her when he could have had me. My sister reminded me all the time that it had nothing to do with my fake hair or the fact that my family is more at home at the chicken shack than the country club. According to LaNaya, "Leaving ain't easy when you got kids with somebody." I thought of her point of view as I glanced at a picture of Frank's sons at Disney World. Frank Jr. was six, and Winston was four. In the photo, the brown-skinned boys were posing with Goofy, smiling widely in front of the Magic Kingdom.

When I had fallen for Frank seven years prior, I'd had no clue about Tisha. I didn't know she was his fiancée or that she was pregnant with his child. He was at expert at concealing his home life. He simply lied, claiming that Detroit restaurants were "too ghetto" for his "sophisticated palate," so we went on dates in faraway cities like Ann Arbor and Port Huron. Whenever I asked him why he didn't answer his cell phone consistently, he explained, "Oh, I forgot to charge my battery." And, the reason that he rarely invited me to his mansion was because my apartment was "just minutes away from the news station." His place was an hour away, and he was too impatient to make such a long drive with a woman as sexy as me.

Frank convinced me stay quiet about our relationship, stating, "Going public will get me in trouble with Human Resources." He was scared of getting fired or, even worse, blackballed. I knew a scandal like ours would certainly ruin his journalism career. Before Frank was my lover, he was my mentor. He used his pull behind the scenes to land me top news assignments and three promotions.

Back then, I was twenty-five years old, earning enough money to pay own my rent and my mother's mortgage too. I was leasing a brand new Jaguar. It was the entry-level X-Type model, and it didn't have a sunroof, but it was a big upgrade from the rusted Chevy Lumina I'd driven around during my ramen-noodle-and-grilled-cheese college years. Best of all, I had Frank Anderson. If I wasn't me, I would've despised myself for having it all.

My perfect little life unraveled the morning I paged through the Sunday edition of _The Detroit Free Press_ and saw a photograph of Frank and Tisha in the "Wedding Announcements" section. Her round belly, an obvious baby bump, betrayed the whiteness of her wedding gown. I still remembered the caption verbatim: "The lovely couple exchanged beachside nuptials. Their destination wedding in the Bahamas was attended by close friends and family. They are expecting their first child in three months."

The sight of them together disgusted me so much that I vomited all over my kitchen floor. Little did I know that Tisha and I had more than Frank in common, but the next morning, I called in sick and scheduled a doctor's appointment. My piss in that little plastic cup revealed that I was, in fact, two months pregnant. The next morning, I stormed into Frank's office and cursed him out. I told him I didn't want anything to do with him and that I planned to raise our child on my own. Then I marched my pregnant self out of there before he could so much as shape his lips to tell another lie.

I took a personal leave of absence for a much-needed reprieve from Frank and a chance to try to plan some kind of future for myself. I enrolled in a master's degree program at the University of Detroit and bought a copy of _What To Expect When You're Expecting._ I had no illusions about the single-mother challenges ahead of me, for I'd witnessed it all firsthand. After my father passed away, Mama struggled to raise LaNaya and me, but raise us she did, and I intended to do the same for my baby.

Sometimes, though, I got so lonely that I'd pathetically dial the first few digits of Frank's phone number. Despite what he had done to me, I still loved him, and carrying his child only amplified that love. I sobbed whenever I watched him on the five o'clock news. He had disappeared from my life at that point, with the exception of an occasional email and the bouquet of roses he sent for my birthday.

By the time those flowers shriveled up, I was so depressed that I didn't even bother getting out of bed most days. I stopped attending classes and rarely left my apartment at all. I even skipped Mama's Sunday soul food dinners. The whole family was worried about me, but I lied and blamed my antisocial behavior on severe morning sickness. At the beginning of my second trimester, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. LaNaya took me to the hospital, and I left alone, without a baby. On top of the miscarriage, I also received more grim news: a diagnosis of fibroids.

The doctor explained, in an unnervingly calm voice, "Your uterine tumors will make it difficult, if not impossible for you to get pregnant again. If you do happen to conceive, you may not be able to carry a viable fetus to term."

I was a journalist who made my living in communication, but there simply were no words to encompass the sadness I felt. My baby was gone, ripped away from me, along with my chances of being able to have another. I had always wanted children of my own someday, and now there was a good chance that someday would never come.

Frank had the nerve to show up at the hospital. If I hadn't been so emotionally and physically exhausted, the nurses would've had to restrain me from beating his ass, and he likely would have needed a room of his own. I had been crying for hours before he walked into the room. He took my hand and said, "I'm so sorry for everything. I'll never forgive myself. I know you don't wanna see me right now, but I love you too much to stay away. You might not want to hear this right now, but you should know that one day, when you finally decide to give me a second chance, we'll start a family of our own the right way."

I'd been crying for hours before he walked into my room uninvited, and I sniffled and sobbed and told him about my diagnosis.

"Doctors don't know everything," he replied.

As much as I hated to admit it, Frank's attention was a welcome distraction from my pain. Every night after I was released from the hospital, he came to my apartment with takeout from my favorite restaurant and a bottle of wine. At first, we only shared conversation and laughter. When I asked him why he was spending so much time away from Tisha, his relatively new bride, he said, "I'm more concerned about you." He explained that he only married Tisha to keep up appearances, that it was a marriage of convenience. He also said he wished our baby would have lived, and he told me he thought about divorcing her every day.

There was a lot of undeniable sexual tension building up between us, but I refused to give in to it until I had proof that he was done with Tisha. One night, he showed up with a copy of a court petition, stating that he was legally separated from her. That was all the evidence I needed, and I gave into all of my desires. We resumed our affair right where we'd left off, and it was even more passionate and more erotic than before. Everything was on the menu, from handcuffs to anal sex.

Whenever I asked him when he was going to finalize his divorce, he said he had to sort out his finances. A court battle with Tisha would claim half of his income, and Frank wasn't the type of man who was accustomed to life without four-star restaurants. After she got pregnant the second time, he promised he was going to officially leave her after the baby was born. Then, he decided that he would wait until the child started preschool. Eventually, I realized Frank had no intentions of cutting ties with his baby-making, blowjob-lipped wife. When I found out he'd gone so low as to fabricate his separation papers, I broke up with him.

Frank really put the M in manipulation. I got so angry when I thought about all the shit he'd put me through. Worst of all, I was mad at myself for being such a fool for so long. Now, I was sitting in his office, and I had to turn away from the gut-wrenching photographic evidence of his Huxtable-esque family. I looked up at his wide grin and asked, "What do you want? You know I've got a deadline right now."

"You look kinda tense. I know something that would help you relax."

"Me too. Getting away from you," I snapped, then stood up to leave.

He laughed. "Calm down, Kai. It's not what you think." He opened his desk and pulled out a flyer for the National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ) Conference in Atlanta. "It's next month, and I'd like you to come with me."

"Why don't you ask somebody else?"

"You're gonna pass up a networking opportunity like this? C'mon, Kai. I know how much your career means to you, and this could really open some doors. CNN is one of the media sponsors this year. I know you've been looking to jump ship. A little birdie told me you've even been sending your résumé around, and—"

"What!? What little birdie? And why are you all up in my business anyway?"

He shrugged as if it was nothing. "I keep tabs on things that are of importance to me. Don't worry. I won't tell the producers. I like having you around too much to do anything that could get you fired."

"Thanks...I guess."

"Show me your gratitude by coming to Atlanta with me."

"Let me think about it."

"If it's about the money, don't worry. I can get your plane ticket today."

"Frank, if I go on this trip, I'll pay my own way. I can afford my own plane ticket, my own meals, and my own hotel room! I don't need a sponsor, and I most certainly don't want to owe you anything. In case you haven't noticed, I'm grown."

"Well, you've always been the epitome of the independent woman. All I ask is that you let me know by Friday."

"No problem. In fact, we'll probably let you know sooner."

"Wait...'we'?"

I nodded. "I'm sure my boyfriend would love to take a trip to Hotlanta with me."

He smiled. "Boyfriend?"

"Deandre Grant. You mighta heard of him. He plays for the Pistons."

Frank tapped away on his keyboard. "What's his last name again?"

"Grant. Why?"

"Deandre Grant? C'mon, Kai. He's just a kid."

I walked around to the other side Frank's desk and saw Deandre's handsome face on the computer screen. "For your information, Deandre is twenty-eight."

He chuckled. "I remember what you like, and it takes a full-grown man to get the job done."

"Please, Frank. You're just jealous of my younger man."

"Jealous? You know that's not my style. At forty-one, I still look better most guys half my age."

"And you're ten times as vain."

He smiled. "Never confuse vanity for confidence."

"Whatever, Frank."

"How about I bring Tisha and you bring Devonte."

"Deandre!"

"Pssh. His name is of no consequence to me. I say, may the best man win."

"Don't even think about trying anything with me."

"You don't have to worry about that. I won't think about it. I'm a man of action, as you well know."

"And I'll take that as my cue to leave," I blurted.

"I hope you decide to come."

I rolled my eyes as I walked out of Frank's office, and I heard him blowing me a kiss as I shut the door behind me. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and sent Deandre a text message: _"Want 2 come w/me 2 ATL next month?"_

" _When?"_

" _The weekend of the 3rd."_

" _Cool! That's B4 the season starts. Love the ATL. Let's do it, Reese's!"_

" _Do what?"_

" _I'll show U 2nite."_

" _I can't wait 2 get you alone, on our first trip 2gether."_

" _C U soon, sexy."_

" _;)"_

## CHAPTER 7

Deandre's profile looked so sexy behind the wheel of his black Range Rover Sport. I sat in the passenger's seat, holding the new Louis Vuitton purse he'd bought for me. It was a gorgeous Sunday on Labor Day weekend. The sky was cloudless, and the bright sun warmed my skin through the open window. I was eager to enjoy what was left of summer, and I loved spending those warm days with Deandre.

I knew autumn's chill was only weeks away. I also knew Deandre would be going to training camp and soon after, he would be traveling the country with the Pistons. I'd heard about the horny groupies that hide inside hotel room closets for a chance to seduce a pro ball player, but I only hoped my relationship with Deandre was solid enough to help him deny those temptations. For the time being, the best I could do was try not to think about it.

"It's right here," I said.

Deandre parked in the driveway of my mother's modest, West Side bungalow.

My heart raced. It was a major step, because Deandre was the first man I'd brought home to meet my family in years.

He opened the door for me and took my hand.

"Thanks," I said as he helped me out of his SUV.

He smiled. "You're welcome, sexy."

Hand in hand, we walked up to the front porch of my childhood home. I rang the bell, and Mama opened the door with a smile, then looked up at Deandre. She was a plump, beautiful woman with ginger-colored skin. Her salt-and-pepper hair was neatly styled in layers of soft curls, and she was wearing her "Motown Sound" t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Mama looked good for her fifty-seven years, but I wished she'd take better care of herself. She had high blood pressure and diabetes, and the year before, she'd had three toes amputated due to an infection in her right foot. After the surgery, she pledged to exercise and eat more nutritiously, and I even paid for her membership at the YMCA.

Unfortunately, she only went to three senior citizens swimming classes before complaining that the chlorine in the pool dried out her hair. I bought her an expensive Olympic-style swimming cap, but she didn't even bother to take it out of the plastic wrapper, and she never went back to the Y. After about a month of following a healthy diet, Mama binged on a fattening feast of Popeye's spicy chicken, Red Lobster Cheddar Bay biscuits and red velvet cake.

"That food's gonna send you to an early grave, Mama," I warned her, and it hurt me when she ignored my advice. I loved Mama so much, and I didn't want to her to go before her time. Sometimes, I thought she neglected her health on purpose. Mama had been lonely since my father's passing twenty-two years ago, and I thought there might be some part of her that was eager to join him up in Heaven.

"Mama, this is Deandre," I introduced.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Deandre said, then gave her a hug.

She wrapped her arms around him. "Ooohhh! And he's got manners too! I pray to Jesus that I've met my son-in-law today."

I blushed. "Mama!"

Deandre smiled. "Your daughter is an amazing woman, and am sure we'll have a long future together."

I was shocked to hear him speak so freely about marriage. I thought he might have said it just to be polite, but there was an undeniable sincerity in his tone. I envisioned myself walking down the aisle in a Vera Wang gown, while Deandre's sexy ass waited for me at the altar.

"I sure hope you brought your appetite!" Mama's voice snapped me out of my wedding day fantasy.

We walked inside, and our nostrils were instantly hit with the aroma of fried catfish, cornbread, and collard greens.

"Is LaNaya here?" I asked.

"No...and don't even get me started on that girl!"

"Is she back with Javon?"

"Heaven only knows where she is and what she's up to. She dropped the kids off on Friday, and I ain't heard from her since."

"You shouldn't let her take advantage of you like that, Mama. You already raised your own kids."

"Baby, I'm gonna do what I can to make sure those children are taken care of, and I'll just give the rest to God. But we're not gonna worry about that now, 'cause I've got good dinner a-waitin'. Ain't that right, Deandre?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Mama limped toward the kitchen. "It'll be ready in a few minutes."

My niece and nephew were on the living room couch, giggling at a Disney Channel sitcom. Their brown eyes reflected the bright colors of the flat-screen television. They both had LaNaya's soft features and brown complexion.

My Cherie Amour was seven years old; yes, my sister named the poor child after her favorite Stevie Wonder song, but we all called her Cher-Cher for short. She was a doll-faced girl, and on this particular day, her braided hair was adorned with rainbow-colored beads.

Javon Jr. was five, but he was tall for his age, and most people assumed he and Cher-Cher were fraternal twins. We called him Li'l JJ. He was an adorable child, with a curly fro and an irresistible, snaggletooth smile.

I cleared my throat. "Excuse me!"

They ran into my arms shouting, "Aunt Kai!"

I knelt for a three-way hug. I kissed their cheeks and foreheads and said, "There's somebody I'd like you two to meet."

Cher-Cher giggled and looked at Deandre and whispered, "Is he your boyfriend, Aunt Kai?"

I smiled. "Yes. This is my boyfriend, Deandre."

Li'l JJ looked up at Deandre. "You're really, really, really, really, really, super tall!"

Deandre laughed. "What's up, little man?"

"Aunt Kai, your man is _fine!"_ Cher-Cher shouted with a grin.

"Hey! That's inappropriate for a young lady your age."

"Sorry. I'm just sayin'."

"Saying...as in s-a-y-i-n-g!" I corrected her grammar.

"My bad. I wanna learn to talk good so I can be on TV like you, Aunt Kai."

"I know, Cher-Cher," I said, wishing LaNaya had given the child a more normal-sounding name. My niece's career opportunities would likely be limited with My Cherie Amour Jackson printed at the top of her résumé.

"C'mon, y'all! Let's eat!" Mama called out from the dining room.

We all held hands around the oak table Mama had owned for so long that it felt like a family member. She said a prayer, and we stuffed our faces with soul food, then chased it with generous slices of pound cake.

Afterward, Mama and I washed the dishes, while Li'l JJ, Cher-Cher, and Deandre went to play outside. I looked up from scrubbing a pot with a Brillo pad to watch them through the kitchen blinds. They took turns dribbling the basketball and aiming for the hoop attached to Mama's garage.

"I ain't seen that look in your eye since you were all caught up with what's-his-face," Mama said; she'd refused to say Frank's name because he'd hurt me so bad.

"It's not that serious, Mama. I've only been with Deandre for five months."

"How much more time do you need?"

"You can't put a timeline on love, Mom."

"That Deandre's a real catch. Just look at him out there, playing with those little ones. If I were you, it wouldn't take me five minutes to make up my mind about that young man."

"You don't even know him, Mama. I'm still getting to know him myself."

"Kai, what's gotten into your head, girl? The man came to meet your family, and just look how well he gets along with the kids! He's ready to start a family! But I guess you won't see the forest for the trees till your stubborn butt gets over what's-his-face."

"Mama, I got over Frank years ago!" I said so firmly that the lie almost convinced even me. Truthfully, I wasn't 100 percent over Frank's lying ass, and a small part of me was still in love with him. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Women around the world would have happily twerked on hot coals for a chance with Deandre; I had him, yet I was still walking around with feelings for a married man.

"Whatever you do, don't break his heart."

"Aren't you concerned that he might do that to me?"

"Child, please. You've gotta open up your heart before it can be broken."

"What's that supposed to mean? I know what love is, Mama."

"I'm not saying you don't know how to love. You love me and Cher-Cher and Li'l JJ and even that your wayward sister. No matter what foolishness LaNaya gets mixed up in, you've always loved her. You love being on TV. You love it when somebody walks up to you in public and asks for your autograph. You love walking into pricy, high-class restaurants without a reservation and still bein' seated at the best table. You love getting dressed up and going to them fancy awards ceremonies. You love all of that! But when it comes to loving a man, that what's-his-face did a number on you."

I laughed. "Frank has nothing to do with—"

"You're thirty-two years old, and you're still dating, like some kinda college freshman."

"Mama!"

"I'm not saying it's gotta be this Deandre, even though he'd be a fine choice. But don't you think it's about time for a husband?"

"It's not like I'm on a mission to stay single, Mama. I'd love to have a rock on my finger, and the tax write-off would be nice too. But Deandre hasn't asked me to marry him. No man ever has. And please, for the love of God, don't start shooting off analogies about cows and milk."

Suddenly, we heard the side door swing open, and Li'l JJ and Cher-Cher walked into the kitchen, with Deandre a few steps behind them. I looked up at his wide grin and wondered how much of the conversation he'd overheard. I was so embarrassed that the pot slid out of my hands. As it fell into the soapy dishwater, little white suds splashed onto my face.

Li'l JJ and Cher-Cher pointed and giggled at me. Mama handed me a clean dishtowel. I thanked her as I patted my face dry. My body tingled. Up until that moment, Frank was the only man who had ever turned me into a klutz; I took that as a clear sign that I was really, truly falling for Deandre. My sundress smelled like Dawn dish soap, and my makeup was smudged, but none of that mattered. I looked over at my tall, dark, and handsome baller and flashed the smile of a woman in love.

## CHAPTER 8

Deandre's six-bedroom, four-bathroom house was situated on a tree-lined cul-de-sac in the suburb of Rochester Hills. It wasn't the first time I had visited, but tonight was different, because I was redecorating the place in my mind. _If this is gonna be my future home, the dark green walls in the living room gotta go,_ I thought. _Hmm. Maybe a light, neutral color...and that oil painting of Tupac? No way. We need a Romare Bearden collage._

Although Deandre hadn't popped the question yet, all signs point to us jumping the broom. He had been to three Sunday dinners in a row at Mama's house, and we would be flying, first-class, to Atlanta together the following weekend. He'd even invited me to training camp to watch him work out. I sat in the bleachers, cheering him on, along with all the other basketball wives and girlfriends. Most of them were half a decade younger than me, with bodies sculpted by a plastic surgeon's scalpel, but the passionate way Deandre kissed my lips at the end of practice made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the arena.

Now, I sat on the couch next to him as he popped open a bottle of champagne and poured us each a glass.

He handed one to me and said, "I'd like to make a toast...to the smartest, sexiest, most passionate woman I've ever known."

I smiled as we clinked glasses. "Wow! You're gonna give me a big head talking like that."

"Reese's, you've got everything a man needs. Plus, you make your own money. I'm always worried about gold-diggers, but I know that's not something I have to worry about with you. That's one of the reasons why I love you."

I blinked at him, wondering if I'd heard him right. _Did he just say he loves me?_ I was so excited I could scream.

He stroked my face. "I've been waiting a long time to tell you how I feel, Reese's. Yes, I love you. It's been so hard to keep it inside."

Joyful tears filled my eyes. "Oh, Deandre! I love you too!"

He kissed me with so much emotion that my whole body trembled. Minutes later, we were naked in his king-sized bed. The satin sheets felt soft against my bare skin. Deandre was on top of me. He kissed my neck and fondled my nipples. I felt the tip of his dick press against my pussy, and I realized in that moment that it was the first time he'd tried anything without protection.

"Let me feel you, Reese's," he begged.

"Deandre, maybe we shouldn't—"

"You're so wet, baby."

"Deandre, I think—"

"Baby, just let me feel you."

I was so turned on that I couldn't say no. Deandre slowly entered me, and I got wetter the deeper he went. The sensation made me moan.

"Damn you feel good, Reese's."

"Deandre!"

"I love you."

"I love you!" I screamed, holding him tighter.

He rubbed on my clit with his finger while he thrust himself deeper inside of me. My body shook as I climaxed, and I screamed his name out over and over again. He pulled his brown, glistening dick out of me, and it was covered with my creamy, white cum. He smiled and said, "That's what I like to see and feel." He penetrated me again, with slower, more gentle strokes this time.

He felt so good that I quickly came again. "Damn, Deandre. See what you do to me?"

His body shook, and he whispered, "I'm about to...Ooohhh! Can I cum inside of you, baby?"

"You wanna...what?"

"Let me cum inside of you, baby. It feels too good to stop."

"Oh God, Deandre!"

"Can I?"

"Yes, I guess—"

"I wanna hear you said it."

"Cum, Deandre. Cum now...inside of me."

He went deeper. "Say it again."

"Deandre, cum inside of me."

His movements slowed, and I felt a burst of warm wetness in my pussy. He bit his bottom lip and grunted, and his breathing grew heavy. He filled me with his seed and muttered, "Damn, Reese's." After a few more strokes, he pulled out and lay beside me, panting.

I rested my head on his chest and looked up at him. I couldn't believe what we'd just done. It felt amazing, but I hadn't had unprotected sex since Frank. I wasn't worried about getting pregnant, since I was sure that wasn't a possibility for me, but I was concerned about STDs. I knew basketball players had access to thousands of horny female fans with who knows how many diseases. My heart began thundering in my chest at the thought; I didn't want to end up at the clinic. "Deandre..."

He closed his eyes. "Yeah? What's up?"

"I, uh...well, I know we're a couple now and, um...I just wanna be sure... Look, I need to know that it's just me and you, especially after tonight."

"No doubt, Reese's."

"But if you do...if something happens out on the road, with another woman, just promise me you'll be...safe."

His eyes popped open. "I'm not cheating on you. Relax."

"I'm serious, Deandre."

"I love you, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"I'm sure Magic told Cookie the same thing."

He frowned. "You think I got AIDS or something?"

"That's not what I said."

"You need to chill, Reese's. I've been tested for everything. The league makes us get physicals all the time."

"I just...I want to be sure I've got nothing to worry about. I mean, I know you'll be traveling soon, and—"

"I love you, and you just said you love me, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we can't have love without trust. Do you trust me?"

I nodded.

He stroked my face. "Then you gotta believe me the first time I tell you something."

"I'm sorry."

"It's cool. I'm glad you ain't goin' raw with no other dude." He patted my booty. "All of this belongs to me, and I'm gonna take good care of it."

"You'd better."

He kissed my mouth, and within minutes, we were making love again, finishing off our weekend with passion, champagne, and more declarations of love.

#### * * *

On Monday morning at work, my body didn't even respond when Frank came to the editing suite to shamelessly flirt with me again. I just knew Deandre was the one for me, and I was counting down the days until our trip to Atlanta.

## CHAPTER 9

My alarm clock buzzed at four thirty a.m. I turned it off and yawned. I'd been so restless with anticipation that I hadn't gotten much sleep. I hopped into the shower, hopeful that the sensation of the warm water on my skin would awaken me. I wasn't feeling very well; it was the last day of my period, and I was a little irritable and slightly bloated. I tried not to dwell on my menstrual drama. Soon, my booty would be in a plush leather seat on a first-class flight, and I could rest my weary head on Deandre's shoulder. We hadn't fooled around when I was on my cycle before, but I was sure he'd enjoy my pussy at any time of the month. Aunt Flo wouldn't get in the way of me getting my groove on, as long as I could wash up first and lie on a towel down while we did it.

I plugged in my flatiron and unzipped my cosmetic bag. Normally, when I traveled, I'd just throw on a baseball cap and put on a little lip-gloss, but I wanted to look extra sexy for my extra-sexy traveling companion. After styling my hair and putting on some makeup, I studied my reflection. I looked good, with the exception of the whites of my eyes being a little pink. I slipped into my black jeans and strapped on my Victoria's Secret push-up bra. I put on my fitted blue sweater, then finished off my ensemble with some high-heeled leather boots and my Gucci sunglasses. I smiled at myself in the full-length mirror, confident that I'd be the baddest bitch at McNamara Airport.

I heard my phone ringing inside of my purse; I could tell by the Alicia Keys "No One" ringtone that it was Deandre. I smiled and answered, "Hey! Are you outside?"

"Reese's...Reese's..." he replied, followed by a bunch of static and then silence.

I called him back, but my call went straight to voicemail. At the sound of the beep, I said, "Hey, sexy. I guess we must be trying to call each other at the same time. I'll try you back in a few. Can't wait to see you."

Two minutes later, he returned my call: "Reese's..."

"Hey, Deandre."

"I'm sending a car service."

"Okay. I guess it doesn't make sense to drive out there just to park your car for four days. It's a rip-off, so—"

"No, I mean I'm sending a car for you, 'cause...well, I'm not gonna be able to make it, baby."

"What!? Deandre, how could you cancel on me at the last minute like this? This is an important trip, and you know that. What the hell is going on?"

"Reese's, I—"

"No! You can't do this to me, to us!"

"Baby, it's Corey. He's in the hospital. He's got sickle cell, and he had an attack last night. I've gotta drive to Milwaukee see him."

"Oh God! Deandre, I'm sorry. I-I had no idea. I feel terrible. I pray your son's okay, honey."

"Yeah, he's been having these attacks since he was a baby, but he's is one tough little dude. The doctors say he should be fine."

"Do you want me to come with you? I can cancel Atlanta and—"

"Not this time. I don't think he's ready to see me with a new girlfriend yet. Since I broke up with his mom, he keeps asking when I'm gonna come back home."

"Aw, bless his little heart. I understand. I just hate to see you go through this alone."

"It's cool, Reese's."

"I don't even want to go to Atlanta anymore, not without you, and with me worrying about you and your son the whole time."

"Well, you said it's important, that the conference might boost your career, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Me and you are supposed to be a power couple, like Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Go handle your business, girl. It'll be all right."

"Okay, but I don't know—"

My door intercom buzzed, interrupting me.

"Hold on, Deandre," I said. I then pressed the intercom and asked, "Who is it?"

"It's Metro Car Service, ma'am."

"Deandre?"

"I'm still here. Go ahead, Reese's. Call me when your plane touches down."

"I will."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'll be right down," I told the car service, then grabbed my bags.

#### * * *

Travelers swarmed around the airport like nectar-starved bees. I weaved through the crowd of over-caffeinated businesspeople, toting super-sized suitcases on wheels. I waited ten minutes for the express tram to my gate, waited in the bathroom line for fifteen minutes to pee, then waited another twenty minutes for a Starbucks cappuccino. By the time I made it to the boarding area for my flight, I was exhausted from all the waiting.

I was also very worried about Deandre, so I sent him a text message: _"I'll B boarding soon. I hope UR son is okay. Please keep me posted. I love U. Thanks 4 sending the car."_

As I sipped my lukewarm, overpriced coffee, I spotted Frank and Tisha walking in my direction. He was dressed in a sharp gray suit, and she had on khakis, a black blouse, and a long strand of pearls around her neck. Her long hair was slicked back into a tight bun. They looked like poster children for the buppie lifestyles. Even more so at the sight of them, I dreaded taking the trip without Deandre at my side.

Tisha flashed an exaggerated smile at me that made me want to throw up. "Hello, Kai!"

"Where is Deronque?" Frank asked.

" _Deandre_ had a family emergency," I explained flatly, scowling at him for mispronouncing my lover's name on purpose.

They sat down in the seats across from me.

Frank smiled and said, "Well, I guess three's company."

"Flying solo does have its advantages," Tisha chimed in. "Atlanta has a fabulous pool of single men! I know someone who might tickle more than your fancy. He's tall, dark, and gainfully employed. On top of that, he's a Morehouse man, and—"

"I'm not interested," I said. "I'm in a committed relationship."

Tisha pointed to the gleaming diamond on her ring finger. "Trust me, this is the only kind of commitment that counts. Right, Franklin?" She kissed him on the cheek.

I was tempted to stand up and shout, "Bitch, do you realize your man still tries to fuck me every chance he gets?" but my anger transformed to joy when I heard my cell phone ding with the sound of a new text message. I checked it, eager to see Deandre's reply.

Instead, I was disappointed to I see a message from Chantel, my best friend—if I could even call her that anymore. We'd been inseparable in college, chasing after cute boys and cheap food. We wore each other's clothes and styled each other's hair. After we graduated, we moved into a loft downtown and made a pact to always live together.

Closer than sisters, we had it all planned out: After we married, we would be next-door neighbors. We wanted to conceive children at the same time so they could grow up together and be best friends, like us. On Fridays, our husbands would watch the kids so we could have a girls' night out. We even picked out two McMansions in Sherwood Forest, with three-car garages and swimming pools in the backyard.

But things changed when Chantel met her husband, Kyle. While they were dating, he had a habit of showing up at her job at the _The Detroit News_ for surprise lunch dates. He also came to our apartment unannounced. When I warned her that his behavior seemed a bit possessive, she laughed it off and said, "He wouldn't act this way if he didn't really love me."

They got married at City Hall and left Detroit the next morning. Kyle worked as a flight officer for the Navy and they'd lived everywhere, from Fort Worth, Texas to Seoul, South Korea. Now, ten years and three kids later, I didn't speak to Chantel often beyond birthday cards, sporadic text messages, and holiday phone calls. When we did talk, she always asked about my love life and made sure to fill me in on the marital bliss I was missing out on.

Still, as much as she bragged about their perfect marriage, I could tell she wasn't happy. In her recent Facebook posts, I could see that she'd ballooned to nearly 300 pounds. Her smile looked strained, and she was always posting lengthy prayers of serenity. She'd even changed her relationship status to "It's complicated" the month before; it stayed that way for a few hours before she switched it back to "Married."

I scrolled through the screen on my cell phone to read Chantel's message: _"I am picking 11 people who have touched my life & who I think would want to receive this. Please send it back to me. REMEMBER 2 make a wish B4 you read the prayer. That's all you have to do. There is nothing attached. Just share this with people and see what happens on the 4th day. Try not to break this and please forward the message."_

I felt sorry for Chantel. I believe in the power of God, but I was relatively certain that forwarding a text message had no sway with the Man Upstairs. Mama taught me that there's no substitution for prayer, so at that moment, I prayed that Deandre was, truly, the good man I'd been waiting for. Lord knows I didn't want to end up in a fake marriage like Tisha and Frank's or a troubled marriage like Chantel and Kyle's.

The gate agent announced on the loudspeaker, "Now boarding Flight 1823 to Atlanta."

So, just like that, we were up, up and away...

## CHAPTER 10

I lay on the king-sized bed in my spacious hotel room at the Omni. From the twenty-first floor, I could see the sparkling lights of the downtown Atlanta skyline. The room was fully equipped with everything from a forty-inch, flat-screen TV to a spa-quality rain showerhead. Still, I would have happily given up those luxury accommodations to be with Deandre, even if we had to check into some fleabag, roadside motel.

I spent the whole day at the NABJ Conference, going to panel discussions and exchanging business cards. I tried to be pleasant while I was networking, but my thoughts of Deandre were overwhelming. I was too distracted to remember details about anyone I met, and I kept checking my cell phone every few minutes. So far, he had only sent two messages: _"Corey is feeling better,"_ and _"I miss U, Reese's."_ I called him from my cell and from the hotel phone, but he had yet to return my calls.

I thumbed through the room service menu, trying to decide between crab cakes with wild rice and mixed vegetables and porterhouse steak with mashed potatoes and asparagus. I was confident that a Caesar salad, a basket of buttered rolls, a delicious entrée, a glass of wine, and a dessert would cheer me up; I had my eye on the chocolate mousse cheesecake. The tab was going to be expensive, but tending to my blues was more important than watching my budget.

When the hotel phone rang, I rushed to the bedside table to answer it. "Hello?" I said, hoping to hear good news and some sweet words from Deandre.

"Hey, Kai," Frank said.

"Oh. What do you want?"

"I'm calling to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight."

"What about Tisha?"

"She'll be there, too, along with her friend, Vaughn."

"Frank, really. You're unbelievable. How could you, of all people, invite me on a double-date? You know I'm with someone. Or is that why you're doing this?"

"It's just a friendly dinner. I respect that you're involved in something...serious with Deandre."

"That's the first time you've ever said his name right."

"You might be surprised to know that I'm happy for you. I'm glad you've found somebody you really care about. This whole double-date thing was Tisha's idea, but I told her you wouldn't be feelin' it."

"I bet."

"Anyway, I don't know the first thing about this Vaughn character, but I figured it'd be good to have him there, so you don't feel like a third wheel. The limo will pick us up downstairs in half an hour, if you're coming?"

"No thanks."

"You sure? We're going to that Brazilian steakhouse in Buckhead, Fogo de Chão."

"Wait...did you say _Fogo de Chão?_ "

"Yeah, and it's my treat."

"It had better be."

"So is that a yes?"

"Okay."

"I knew I'd convince you to come out and play. We'll meet you in the lobby at 8:15."

As soon as I hung up with Frank, I called Deandre again.

This time, he answered, "What's up, Reese's?"

"Hey! How's everything with your little boy?"

"Corey's back home now."

"I'm really glad to hear that."

"Yeah, me too."

"I've been trying to call you, and I know you've got a lot going on, but—"

"How is Atlanta?" he asked, cutting me off.

"It would be better if you were here. I miss you."

"How much?"

"I'd rather show than tell."

"Your voice makes me so hard, Reese's. If I was up in that hotel room with you, what would you do to me?"

"Hmm. Well, I'd start off by kissing your lips, soft and slow, and then I'd unzip your pants and grab your dick with both of my hands and—"

"Reese's—"

"Then, I'd glide my tongue over every inch of your dick and take it all the way in my mouth."

He moaned.

"I would suck you good and hard, till you were ready to explode, and then I would climb on top of you and ride you—"

"God, I love seeing your titties bounce in the air. Where would you let me cum?"

"Inside."

"Mmm. That's what I'm talking 'bout. Damn, I miss you." He paused. "Reese's, uh...I got another call. Gotta go. I'm sorry, but I need to take this."

"It's okay, baby. I'm about to leave in a few minutes myself."

"I might just have to catch a flight down there tomorrow so you can finish what you started."

"Ooh, I'd love that!"

"I'll call you later. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Bye, sexy."

My panties were still moist from my steamy phone chat with Deandre as I decided what to wear. I slipped into an orange, spaghetti-strap sundress, a brown blazer, and high-heeled sandals. The outfit would have been out of the question at that time of year in Michigan, but the forecast for Atlanta was warm and humid, seventy-four degrees. I styled my hair into an up-do and sprayed on a bit of perfume. I felt as sexy as I looked.

I was excited about the possibility of Deandre flying down to see me. I smiled as I imagined his hands all over me while my body tingled from the rhythm of his lovemaking. If he did show up, neither of us would see the outside of those four walls until Monday morning. They'd have to put an APB out on me to find my ass!

#### * * *

At the restaurant, the ambiance was cozy and bright. Atlanta's beautiful people partook in food, conversation, and alcohol. Glasses clinked, and jokes were exchanged as the hostess seated us at a table by the window.

Frank pulled out a chair for Tisha first, then me.

She checked her phone and said, "Vaughn is running a few minutes behind."

Our waiter approached our table and greeted us with a welcoming smile.

"Could you bring us three caipirinhas?" Frank asked him.

"Yes, sir." The waiter nodded and approached the bar.

I looked at Frank, then back at Tisha. Being alone with them was even more awkward than I had imagined it would be, and I realized I should've followed my first mind and stayed in my hotel room. At that point, I didn't care if Vaughn laughed like Urkel and looked like a wildebeest; I just needed him to get there, because there was no way I could survive the dinner on my own.

"If you will excuse me for a minute, I need to go to the ladies' room," Tisha said, then stood up and walked away from our table.

I looked toward the entrance and noticed a tall brother in a dark green suit, checking his cell phone. I pointed and asked, "Is that him?"

Frank shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

The waiter placed our drinks on the table and said, "The salad bar is open whenever you're ready. The meat-carvers will be making their way over to your table. We have some great cuts of filet mignon and leg of lamb. Also, the garlic chicken is quite good. Please let me know if I can get you anything else."

Frank sipped his drink. "Mmm," he said, licking his lips. "We'll have a pitcher of this."

"Certainly, sir. I'll bring it right away." Our waiter smiled, then walked away to check on another table nearby.

Frank touched my hand. "I'm glad you're here."

I yanked my hand away.

"I remember when you used to let me touch you everywhere."

"What's wrong with you? We're in this restaurant with your wife, and you've got the nerve to hit on me! Can you please keep your impulses in check for one night?"

"I loved you, Kai. I still do. And if you ever loved me the way you said you did, you wouldn't be able to shut me out like this. I know I made too many mistakes to count, and I know you've got somebody new, but that doesn't change how I feel about you. I can't even remember the last time I told Tisha I love her or the last time she said that to me, but what you and I had...that was real. Don't you miss it? Miss me? Even a little?"

When I dared to look into his eyes, I saw the man I'd once thought I'd spend the rest of my life with. "Frank, please don't do this to me now."

Tisha sashayed back over to our table, then sat down and cleared her throat. "Am I interrupting something?"

I took a long drink, hoping the Brazilian rum would mellow my nerves a little.

Frank asked, "Any word from Vaughn?"

"He should be here any minute."

"Well, I'm too hungry to wait much longer."

"Oh, my dear Franklin, your appetites always dictate your actions," she said, then smiled naughtily at her own double-entendre.

Our waiter returned with a pitcher of caipirinha and said, "Sorry this took so long," he said. "We're having a busy night." He glanced down at my half-empty glass. "More for you, miss?" he asked, then topped off my glass when I nodded.

"Thanks," I said, then took a long swallow that had me feeling tipsy almost right away.

A few minutes later, the meat-carvers arrived at our table with a delicious display of cured meats. I tasted the beef ribs and cordeiro. I nibbled on fresh garden salad and cheese bread. All the while, I guzzled down three more caipirinhas. Soon, I was so drunk that I almost forgot what Frank had said to me while we were alone.

He excused himself to go to the bathroom.

The moment he walked away, Tisha flashed a mischievous smile in my direction and said, "He's got a nice ass, doesn't he?"

"What?"

"Perfect for squeezing while he delivers you to a sweet, sweet climax. Oh, Kai, please cast aside your whole innocent act. I know you fucked my husband, and I know you loved every stroke."

Suddenly sober, I stared at her in disbelief. My heart began to thump wildly in my chest, and I wanted to run for the door. I closed my eyes, convinced that I had to be having some horrible dream. I prayed that when I opened my eyes, I would be back in my hotel room, with TV buzzing in the background. Unfortunately, though, that nightmarish moment with Tisha was my reality.

She leaned closer to me and said, "We need to have a bit of honest dialogue, woman to woman. I'm sure that what I'm about to tell you will clarify any misunderstandings. First of all, I'm privy to all the details of your affair with Franklin. He's my husband, and I am his wife, and there are no secrets between us, dear. Second, I actually encouraged him to invite you to this conference. And third, you're more likely to meet the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus than Vaughn. I made him up to get you to come out with us. I've been waiting six years to have this conversation with you tonight."

Her words sucked the oxygen out of the room. I took several deep breaths, brought the glass of caipirinha to my alcohol-numbed lips, and mumbled, "You...you knew all this time? About me and your...about me and Frank?"

She laughed. "His libido is rather predictable, and you have two things he greatly admires," Tisha said, pointing to my cleavage. "What are you? D? Double-D? Well, in any case, you've got me beat in that category. In many ways, you're more Franklin's type than I am. Not only that, but the fact that he has a thing for you is also a reflection of his love affair with his career."

"So you...you didn't...care?"

"A quality man should never be discarded because of an indiscretion. Countless wives have made the error of confusing infidelity with disloyalty. All men, even the most brilliant and talented, are simply too weak to control their primal nature. So, to answer your question, I'm indifferent when it comes to your dirty little liaisons with Franklin. Honestly, I'm quite glad to share him with a woman like you, someone who has some class. I hope I'm not being too forward, but I'd like to offer my hand in friendship."

"Oh my God! I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone."

She laughed. "Tonight is only the beginning. You'll see."

## CHAPTER 11

The limo driver held the door open for me, Frank, and Tisha as we climbed into the back seat. Frank sat between us.

I was still in a rum-induced haze, and part of me actually questioned that the strange conversation with Tisha had even happened.

She smiled at me and asked, "Would you like some champagne?"

I shook my head. "No...thanks," I slurred out.

She poured a glass. "My dear, this is Armand de Brignac. I insist that you at least have taste."

"No, no...I-I'm fine," I said, but when Frank lifted the glass to my lips, I sipped a little bit.

Tisha grinned and freed her long hair from its bun. She shook her dark, wavy mane all around and let out a scream. "Let's go for a drive!"

"I, uh...I thought we were going...back, to the hotel."

She asked, "Do you have a curfew?"

"I should...be getting back...I need to check in with Deandre, and—"

"Don't you wanna take in the city sights?" She poured a glass of champagne for herself and Frank.

"I agree with Kai," Frank said. "Let's just call it a night already."

Tisha frowned. "Party poopers! What gives? Besides, this is the perfect opportunity for me to cross something off my bucket list."

"What's that?" I asked reluctantly.

"I don't know why I've never done it before, especially considering that I've been riding in limos all my life. Anyway, I've always wanted to pop out of the sunroof...topless!"

Frank shook his head. "Let's not indulge your teenage fantasies tonight."

She ignored him and began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Please don't, Tisha," he pleaded. "You might get arrested or, even worse, somebody might videotape you. Do you really want the kids to see that on YouTube one day?"

She slipped off her blouse and said, "My dear Franklin, I am miles away from our children, and when was the last time you heard of cops pulling a limo over? Besides, there's no risk of candid camera. For one, it's too dark outside, and for two, I don't have much to look at anyway. Now, if I had a rack like Kai's, it might be a different story. Please let me live a little tonight. I just wanna feel the open breeze on my girls. What's the worst that can happen? I give some lonely trucker a thrill?"

"Don't do it!"

"You say that with such authority. Baby, I'm a grown-ass woman. I can do as I please!" With that, Trisha unhooked her lacy, black and red bra. Her lemon-sized titties had huge, caramel-colored nipples, and I was surprised to see a tattoo of a purple and blue butterfly on her left breast; I didn't expect to see ink on an aristocrat like her, but then again, Tisha had shocked me several times in one night.

"Stop!" Frank pleaded, grabbing her arm. "Put your clothes back on!"

She laughed and said, "Sorry, but the queen's not backing down tonight." She stood up and screamed like she was riding a rollercoaster at Cedar Point. Tisha had another tattoo on her lower back, a pair of large, dark eyes, and a thin red thong peeked out above the waistband of her knee-length skirt.

Despite my tipsy state, I was appalled by her behavior. I looked over at Frank, and he looked down at his champagne glass and shook his head. I knew from experience that he had a freaky side, but his wife flashing half of Atlanta seemed a bit much, even for him.

As we neared the stoplight, a blue Lincoln Navigator with twenty-two-inch chrome rims pulled up next to us, with Jay-Z's latest song booming out of its custom sound system. There were five men in the vehicle, and they rolled down their windows and looked up at Tisha with wide eyes and even wider smiles. The driver even blew a kiss at her.

One of the passengers asked, "What's your number, sexy?"

"I'm married."

"I won't tell if you won't!"

She laughed.

Frank hollered, "That's enough!"

The light turned green, and she shouted, "Tame me, Daddy! Make me behave!"

Frank desperately tugged at her waist and pulled Tisha back inside.

Her hair was wild, her yellow complexion flushed red, and her nipples hard. She grinned. "That felt so fucking good! You should try it, Kai."

"She would never do anything like that," Frank explained.

Tisha's eyes lit up as she turned to me and asked, "So...what _would_ you do?" She slid her hand up her thighs. "Why don't you two put on a little show for me?"

"Hell no! Take me back at the hotel right now, or pull this damn thing over and I'll walk back!" I yelled. As drunk as I was, there was still no way I was going to be part of a threesome then or any other time. I'd never been attracted to women, and if I did ever have the inclination to try it, Tisha would have been the last chick in the universe that I would have wanted to mess with.

"Take us back to the Omni, buddy!" Frank called out to the limo driver. He then turned to me. "I'm sorry, Kai."

Tisha snapped her bra back on and looked at me. "I'm genuinely disappointed. I really thought tonight would be the beginning of a special friendship between three consenting adults." She slipped her blouse back on. "I realize I might not be your type, but there are no words to express all the joy you're missing out on." She flicked her tongue out toward me rapidly.

"Please stop. You're embarrassing yourself...and me," Frank said.

She fastened the last button on her blouse and looked at me. "You two are prudes, no fun, but I guess I can't have it all. I do have something you never will though," she said, then held up her ring finger and showed off her large diamond. "Franklin married me, not you. Haven't you ever been curious about the real reason why?"

"Tisha, don't—" Frank began.

"I'll give you a hint," she snapped, cutting him off as if he wasn't even there. "It wasn't because of my wealthy family. Although, marrying a rich bitch like me did give him an explosive hard-on. As the son of a brick mason and a teacher's aide, Franklin had a deep, profound sense of depravity. His childhood is full of tear-jerking memories of utility shut-offs, visits to the food pantry, and watered-down milk, so—"

"Shut the hell up, Tisha!" Frank shouted in a tone of unrecognizable anger; I'd never seen him so upset before.

"Don't worry, honey. This little bedtime story is almost over. Where did I leave off? Oh yeah, the reason Franklin married me. Like I mentioned before, it wasn't because of money, and it wasn't because I got pregnant with Frank Jr. In fact, I actually considered getting an abortion. It certainly wouldn't have been a first for me. But my dear Franklin begged me not to go through with it. Isn't that right, Franklin? All of those Christian values your mother and father raised you with sparked a guilt trip."

He looked bewildered. "You don't even deserve to be the mother of our sons. You're the most heartless bitch I've ever known, Tisha, but karma's gonna catch up with you one of these days, and then—"

"Karma? Really, Franklin, that's cute. Anyway, as I was saying...Franklin chose a shotgun wedding to me over a life with you. Why? I'll give you another hint. It wasn't because of my abilities in the bedroom. Don't get me wrong. I can suck and fuck better than an upscale call girl, but it wasn't my marvelous pussy that convinced Franklin to propose." She looked right at him and demanded, "Be a man and tell her the real reason."

"Stop," he pleaded.

She laughed. "I knew you wouldn't have the balls to tell her."

"If you weren't the mother of my children, I swear to God..."

Just then, the limo driver pulled into the circular driveway of the Omni, and I was grateful that the crazy ride was over. I ran into the lobby and hopped into the first available elevator. As the metal doors whooshed closed, I watched Frank and Tisha arguing with each other near the front desk. Truthfully, I felt sorry for him; "bitch" was too kind of a moniker for Tisha Anderson. Part of me wondered what she was going to claim as the real reason Frank married her, but given her vindictive nature, there was no telling what she was going to say.

#### * * *

As I rode up to the twenty-first floor, I considered how different my fate might have been if Frank had never met Tisha. If he had been at my side to take care of me and comfort me during my pregnancy, I might never have had a miscarriage. Instead, we would have been the proud parents of a healthy baby girl—or at least I presumed it would have been a girl, since I'd always wanted a daughter. I continued to envision my fantasy in my inebriated, angry state as the elevator carried me up to my floor: Now, Crystina would be six years old, entering first grade. I'd drop her off at school in the morning, and I'd smile back at her when she looked at me with those bright, brown eyes. She'd hop out of the car with her Doc McStuffins lunch pail, and I'd walk her to the front door and kiss her forehead. Then she'd look up at me and say, "I love you, Mommy!"

When I heard the ding of the elevator, I stepped off of it, completely aware that there was no chance of me ever sharing my life with Frank. My best hope for a family of my own was to stick with Deandre Grant.

I slid my keycard through the slot and opened the door. I immediately checked my phone and read Deandre's message: _"I miss U, Reese's. Can't wait till U get back home."_

I texted back, _"I miss U2. :)."_

I untwisted the cap on a bottle of water. Each sip helped rehydrate my body. The combination of caipirinhas and champagne had me so twisted. I hadn't felt so drunk since my college days, when Chantel and I used to get guzzle Bacardi and Faygo cocktails.

I slipped out of my dress and into my oversized Detroit Pistons t-shirt. I lay across the bed and looked at the alarm clock; it was 3:19 a.m. I should have been tired, but too much had happened for me to sleep, and I didn't want to wake up with a pounding hangover.

I heard my phone make a noise, and I glanced back it and saw a long text message from Frank: _"Now U C the madness I have 2 live with every day. I love U, Kai. Not a day goes by when I don't think about us, but Tisha said if I try 2 leave our marriage, she's going 2 make me pay & she's not just talking about alimony. She doesn't even love me. She just gets off on manipulating me. She's not even here right now. She's hanging out with some guy she met @ the hotel bar. I'm so alone right now. Can I please come to UR room? I need to see U so bad."_

I took a deep breath and texted back, _"No!"_

There was a time when I was incapable of resisting Frank, but that was before Deandre. I grabbed the pen on the nightstand and signed "Mrs. Kai Grant" on the notepad. I was 100 percent ready to go the distance with Deandre, and I really hoped he felt the same way about me.

## CHAPTER 12

The next morning, I decided to skip the networking brunch. I really wasn't in the mood to meet strangers wearing oversized "Hi. My name is..." stickers on their lapels or exchange more business cards with people I could easily connect with on LinkedIn. Besides, I wanted to avoid seeing Tisha and Frank. After that crazy limo ride, I wanted nothing to do with the Andersons or their marital drama.

I slipped into my swimsuit and went to the pool. A young family was swimming in the shallow in, and the children were wearing colorful floaties on their arms and around their little bellies. They splashed and giggled as their parents held their hands and cheered them on.

I was very happy to see that the Jacuzzi was empty. I pressed the button to power up the suds and submerged in the hot water. My whole body relaxed within seconds. As I watched the family having fun, I almost forgot about the Frank and Tisha fiasco and about how much I missed Deandre.

One of the toddlers announced, "Mommy, I have to go pee-pee!"

Within five minutes, they were all out of the pool, and I had the entire place to myself.

Moments later, a balding, middle-aged white man with a slight beer gut interrupted my solitude. He waved, and before I knew it, he was sitting across from me in the Jacuzzi. "Hi there," he said.

"Hi," I answered.

"It's nice and warm in here!"

I only nodded; I didn't really feel like chatting.

"My name is Joel. What's yours?"

"Kai."

"That's a really pretty name. I'm sure you get that all the time."

Suddenly, the suds stopped.

"I'll get that," Joel insisted, then got up and pressed the button to restart the soothing bubbles.

I closed my eyes as he climbed back into the Jacuzzi.

"You look so relaxed right now. I didn't mean to disturb you. Sorry. I can be a real chatterbox sometimes."

Then, finally, we sat in silence, and I was grateful Joel had gotten the message. I kept my eyes closed and took several deep breaths, letting my stress dissolve. Jacuzzis always renewed me from head to toe, and this was no exception.

A few minutes later, when the suds stopped, I heard Joel get up and press the button. When he got back in the water, I felt his hands on my feet.

"Hey! Don't touch me!" I opened my eyes and was surprised to see Frank sitting across from me, wearing a wide grin. His chiseled body looked sexy in his navy-blue swim trunks.

A few feet away, Joel walked toward the men's locker room.

"Hey," Frank said.

"What are you doing?"

"I was in the workout room, on the treadmill, and I saw you come in here. I hurried and showered so I could talk to you...alone."

The morning had brought me sobriety and clarity, and now I was so angry that I wanted to slap him in the face. "What was that shit you and your wife tried to pull last night? Getting me drunk for a ménage à trois!"

"That was her idea. I didn't know—"

"But _you_ invited me to dinner!"

"I didn't want to put you in that position. Kai, I-I want you all to myself."

"Last night, you told me you still love me, but you were lying. In fact, you've never loved me at all. I'm just something you wanted to toy with."

"You know that's not true, Kai. My love is real. It always has been."

"Then why are you still married to Tisha? Whether you love me or not, I don't understand how you could be married to someone like her!"

"She's...my biggest mistake. It should've been you. Being with Tisha has been a nightmare. If we didn't have Frank Jr. and Winston, I would've left a long time ago. I realize that's not fair to you, especially considering all I've put you through. Look, Kai, I know I'm not perfect, but I've got plans to be the perfect man for you."

"Ya know, I find it a bit odd that such a liar could be named Frank. Do you ever get tired of lying? Well, it doesn't matter anyway, because I've got someone who really does love me."

"You and I are like Isis and Osiris. Our fates are intertwined. We're going to be together, one way or another. I don't have all the answers right this second, but it'll happen one day. You'll see."

He slid his body closer to mine. No matter how much I wanted to deny my feelings for Frank, the man still had a powerful effect on me, and being so close to him made my heart race. I looked into his eyes and instantly grew weak in the knees. Much to my surprise, my nipples hardened beneath the surface of the hot Jacuzzi waters. When he pressed his lips against mine, it felt as if we'd been kissing for a thousand lifetimes. I thought about Deandre and tried to pull away, but the sensation felt so beautiful that I was paralyzed.

He slid his hands under my swimsuit and squeezed my titties. I let out a sigh as my pussy moistened from his touch. He positioned himself between my legs and rubbed his hard dick against my crotch, then whispered in my ear, "I want you so bad, Kai."

"I want you too, but—"

"If you're worried about somebody walking in on us, we could just go up to your room."

Those words, "your room," jolted me back to reality in a hurry. I pushed him off of me and said, "No, Frank! I'm not gonna let you hurt me again! I've cried more tears for you than I've ever cried for anyone. The way you play with my emotions isn't healthy, and I need a real love that's truly all mine."

Frank frowned as I climbed out of the Jacuzzi. "Kai, please don't leave me like this!"

"Why don't you go upstairs and let Tisha handle that," I said, pointing at his crotch. I wrapped a fresh towel around my waist and stormed away to the women's locker room. I was furious with myself for falling under Frank's spell again, for allowing him to kiss and fondle me, but I was proud that I hadn't given in to him completely.

After a cold shower, my guilt escalated. While Deandre was looking after his son, taking care of his family, I had made out with my married ex-boyfriend. And really, that was the PG-13 version of the facts. The truth was, I'd almost fucked Frank right there in that hot tub.

Still, that _almost_ was my saving grace. As awful as my actions were, at least I hadn't cheated on Deandre, unless kissing counted as cheating. I tried my best not to dwell on my indiscretion. I realized that it was a mistake to fly to Atlanta with Frank, but the good news was that I was going home the next day.

With all of that on my mind, I sent Deandre a text that came straight from my heart: _"I can't wait 2 C U! I miss you beyond words."_

## CHAPTER 13

I grabbed my suitcase off the conveyor belt and walked through the McNamara Airport sliding-glass doors. Outside, I spotted Deandre's Range Rover Sport, with its hazard lights blinking. A gush of brisk wind blew in my face as I walked toward him. I might have looked cute in my little black trench coat, denim miniskirt, and spiky leather heels, but my attire was inadequate for Michigan's frigid autumn weather. I knew if my mother had seen me, she would have told me, "Girl, get some long johns on those legs and a hat on that head 'fore you catch your death!" I smiled at the thought.

Deandre got out of his SUV and embraced me, and I immediately felt warm in his arms. He knelt to kiss me, and the sensation of his lips against mine was so intense that I wanted to make love to him right on the cold sidewalk. "You taste better than I remembered, Reese's," he said.

I grinned. "Ditto."

"C'mon. Let's go." He opened the passenger's door for me.

I climbed inside, and my butt cheeks were warmed by the soft, leather, heated seat.

He put my suitcase in the trunk and got into the driver's seat. He turned the volume on the radio down and looked at me lovingly. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too, but I'm so glad that your son is okay."

"Yeah, Justin's a li'l soldier."

"Justin? I thought your son's name was Corey. Who's Justin?"

"Oh, uh...well, Justin is, um...my nephew. He has it sickle cell too. The trait runs in my family," he stuttered.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to sort out his truths from his lies. "Deandre, please be honest with me. What's going on? How can you not even know your son's real name?"

"I am being honest. Do you have any idea about the shit I had to deal with this weekend? While you were down in Atlanta, I was in a hospital with my son. Then again, you don't have any kids, so you can't possibly understand what it's like."

"I might not have any children of my own, but I-I do everything I can for my niece and nephew, and..." I trailed off, and a tear slid down my cheek. I considered telling him about my miscarriage, but I decided not to. I wasn't really ready to be entirely honest with Deandre; I didn't want him to know Frank had fathered my baby or that I might never be able to get pregnant again.

He looked over at my crying face and said, "I'm sorry, Reese's."

I took a tissue out of my purse and wiped my eyes. I pulled down the vanity mirror to look at my reflection. My mascara was smeared, my eyes were pink and puffy, my hair was out of place, and I looked awful.

"It hurts me to see you like this. Don't cry."

I continued to sob and said, "It's not that I don't want kids, because I do. It's just—"

"You just told me what I needed to hear. I was afraid you were one of those career sistas who doesn't wanna be bothered with a family. But now I see that you were just waiting for the right man to come into your life." He patted my thigh. "Let's make it happen, Reese's. Let's go half on a baby!"

I smiled. "First things first, Deandre. Shouldn't we get married?"

"No doubt. When I do things, I always do 'em right."

As I unlocked the door to my apartment, Deandre kissed my neck and cupped my breasts. "I sure missed these," he said.

We walked inside, and I shut the door behind him and stroked his erection through his jeans. "And I missed this," I whispered, even more seductively.

He fingered the collar of my trench coat. "Take all this shit off."

I obeyed him and completely undressed.

Deandre smiled at the sight of my nude body. He softly stroked my neck with both of his hands and slowly worked his way down to my shoulders and started to rub my chest. Then, I felt the sensation of his wet, warm tongue on my hard nipples. He took turns on my titties, licking, sucking, and giving gentle bites.

I let out a loud moan.

He slid his hand down my stomach, to my belly button, and toward my pussy.

I trembled when he inserted two fingers inside me. I shouted, "Stop teasing me and let me feel every inch of you!"

Deandre smiled. "You used to always tease me before you let me hit it, so I'm returning the favor."

My breathing grew more labored. "Please don't do this to me. I-I need it."

"How bad? How bad do you need it?"

"Oh, Deandre! I've never needed anyone so bad."

"All right. But tonight, we play by my rules."

"Anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Yes!"

He slipped off his sweater and unbuckled his belt. Seconds later, Deandre was standing there in nothing but his boxers. "Turn around," he said.

I reluctantly bent over on the couch. I arched my back in an attempt to make my ass look more plump. I was very self-conscious about doggie-style because of my flat booty, and I had only tried it with Deandre in my darkened bedroom after several drinks. Now, I was completely sober _and_ out in the open under the glow of my bright living room lamp.

He penetrated me like a prisoner on a conjugal visit, so hard and fast and desperate that I was relatively certain he hadn't cheated on me while we were apart.

I screamed out his name when I felt his dick push deep into me, almost up into my stomach.

He smacked my ass and said, "This pussy feels so good, I'm gonna have to marry it."

"Ooohhh!"

"Do you wanna be my wife?"

"Yes!"

"Do you wanna be my everything?"

"Yes!"

"Then you gotta be my freak."

"Yes!"

"Turn around and look at me, Reese's."

I looked back at him; his skin was slick with sweat.

"Tell me you'll be my nasty bitch," he demanded.

"Yes!"

"I need to hear you say it."

"I'll be your...nasty bitch."

He fucked me harder and smacked my ass again. Then he said, "Say that shit like you really mean it."

"Deandre, I'll be your nasty bitch."

"Louder!"

"Yes! I'll be your nasty bitch!"

"Let me fuck you in the ass."

"Hell no!"

"What?"

Frank was the only man I'd ever had anal sex with, and it had always involved a lot of foreplay and plenty of lube. It had started with him tossing my salad; the way he moved his tongue around the rim of my booty hole made me curious about what it would feel like to have his dick inside of it. When Frank penetrated me there, he was patient and gentle. The first time hurt so bad that we had to stop after a few seconds. The second time was less painful, but it still didn't feel good. After a few more tries, I got into the rhythm of it. Frank would slide his fingers inside my pussy while he slowly moved his dick in and out of my ass. He was so good that he could make me cum like waterfalls.

But now, with Deandre, it was totally different. He was screwing me with the vigor of a college freshman, and I was worried that his rough strokes might send me to the emergency room. On top of that, I was still uneasy about the words he was ordering me to scream out loud. I didn't mind a little role-playing, but I didn't like the way he'd sprung it on me. Within seconds, I'd gone from being his future wife to his nasty bitch. I knew it often requires a balance of both to keep a man satisfied, but something just didn't feel right.

Deandre slowly pulled out of me, then put on his boxers and reached for his jeans.

I sat down on the couch, a bit disappointed, and asked, "So what? You're just gonna leave now?"

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Reese's. I thought you loved me."

"I do."

"Then what's wrong? We've been together for seven months. Why are you still holding out on me?" He zipped up his jeans and grabbed his sweater. "If you're my woman, you're supposed to do whatever it takes to please me."

"It's not as simple as you make it sound."

He put on his sweater. "You ain't just some chick I'm fuckin', Kai. All types of bitches wanna fuck me. You realize that, right? Supermodels, porn stars, movie stars... They constantly throw their panties in my face, but I turn them all down 'cause I got you. The only reason I asked you to try something new with me tonight is 'cause...well, sometimes, I like that freaky shit, and I'd rather fulfill those urges with you than to cheat on you." He then snatched his car keys off of the coffee table and said, "I'm ready to do everything with you...marriage, kids, you name it. But I can't be bothered with you if you're gonna hold back." Then he simply turned his back on me and walked out the door.

"Deandre!" I put on my trench coat and ran after him. I chased him all the way to the elevator.

The metal doors shut on him as he said, "Lemme know when you're ready to stop playing games."

Back inside my apartment, I was naked, alone, and confused. Maybe I should have fulfilled Deandre's fantasy. After all, he's twenty-eight, a professional athlete who could moonlight as a model if he wanted. I knew he wasn't lying or exaggerating about having access to the world's most beautiful women, all of whom would eagerly indulge his desires without any mention of marriage or even commitment.

#### * * *

For the next few days, my calls to Deandre went unanswered. One night, I sent him a text message: _"I'm ready to 2 B UR nasty bitch. Come over 2nite & let me show U,"_ but he never replied.

The next night, I drove to his house. I parked across the street, hoping the dark blue exterior of my Lincoln MKZ would blend into the night sky, and waited until his Range Rover pulled into the garage.

I was happy to see that he got out of the SUV alone. I wanted to run to Deandre, but I chickened out; the last thing I wanted to do was come across as a deranged stalker. So, I decided to drive back home.

On the I-75 highway, I sobbed like a baby. I knew that far too many relationships fell apart because of infidelity or money problems or both, but I'd lost Deandre for an almost-laughable reason. I couldn't believe it was over between us simply because of my refusal to engage in a sex act.

The next time I saw him was on TV, when the Pistons played the Cavaliers in Cleveland. His face flashed across the screen for a moment while he was sitting on the bench next to three of his teammates. I wanted to touch him through the flat screen, and it was then that I realized I missed him far too much to give up on what we had.

## CHAPTER 14

Freezing raindrops pelted the windshield of the Channel 5 news van. The cameraman parked in front of an abandoned house surrounded by bright yellow crime scene tape. Half a dozen police officers were wandering around the premises, writing notes, examining evidence, talking to witnesses, and snapping pictures.

Madison sat next to me with a frown on her face. "Is it true that one of the bodies has been in there for over a year?"

I nodded. "Maybe longer. As morbid as it sounds, there is a bright side to this though. In Detroit, a lot of bodies are never found."

"That's sad."

"Yeah, but it's a self-perpetuating cycle. The police force gets cut. Crimes go unsolved. The population and tax base dwindle. More budget problems, more police cuts, more unsolved crimes. Then, all that corruption at the top trickles down... Boy, I could write the book on this place."

"Maybe you should."

I laughed at the thought. "How do I look?"

Madison smoothed my hair. "Good, as always, Ms. Lewis."

"Thanks. I'm gonna go talk to our boys in blue and see what I can find out. Could you please try to find a neighbor who'd be willing to talk to us on camera?"

"Sure."

I hopped out of the van, with my oversized umbrella in tow. I walked across the street, toward the officers. I recognized Detective Vince Palmeri right away, my closest connection at the Detroit Police Department. With his help, I'd broken several exclusive stories. He was six feet tall, with olive skin and dark green eyes. True to his Italian heritage, he had handsome, Sicilian features and a toned body, as well as thick, straight, black hair. He looked like a sexy bad boy right off the set of a popcorn Mafia flick, but in real life, Vince had more integrity than any police officer I knew.

Corruption was so rampant in the DPD that being a clean cop was somewhat dangerous. I admired Vince's respect for the badge, but on the flipside, he was only thirty years old and still single. A few years into the future, when he had a family and a pricey mortgage, I feared that even he might fall prey to the temptations that tainted every level of the city's law enforcement.

"Hey, Kai," he said.

"Good to see you, Vince," I said. "Can you tell me anything at all about what happened here?"

"I can't really speak on the record, except to say that seven unidentified bodies were found in the basement."

"Seven? Oh my God!"

"Yeah, I know. It's gruesome, even for the D. I've gotta get back inside, but I'll keep you posted on any new developments."

"I appreciate it, Detective."

We looked at each other for a moment, with the rain dripping down on us, and we both offered a small smile. There had always been a bit of sexual tension between us, and it was clearly felt by both sides.

"Kai..."

"Yes?"

The look in his eyes told me he wanted to ask me out, but he only said, "Take it easy."

"You do the same."

As he walked back into the abandoned house, Madison approached me with an elderly woman at her side, a dark-skinned lady with short, kinky, silver hair. "This is Mrs. Frieda Jenkins," Madison said. "She lives in the house across the street."

I extended my hand to the woman. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. Thanks for agreeing to be interviewed."

Mrs. Jenkins said, "I've always wanted to be on television, but Lord knows I never wanted it to be for a sad reason like this."

Ten minutes later, the camera was pointed at me. Through my earpiece, I heard Frank's voice say, "Let's check in with Kai Lewis, live on the city's East Side."

"Thank you, Frank. I'm at the corner of East Nevada and John R Streets, where police have made a horrific discovery. In the basement of the abandoned house behind me are the bodies of seven unidentified males. I'm here with Frieda Jenkins, who lives across the street. Mrs. Jenkins, what's your take on this tragic finding?"

When I held the microphone up to Mrs. Jenkins's mouth, she said, "Well, I've lived on this block for fifty-two years. When I first got here, it was a real nice place to live. I don't know what's happened to this neighborhood, to this city. Now, you're tellin' me they found seven dead bodies in that house over there! Lord Jesus! People nowadays ain't got no respect for human life."

"Have you noticed any strange activity in the house?"

"That house has been empty since the first George Bush was President, and I ain't never seen no kinda goings-on over there. I just can't believe anybody would do something so terrible."

"Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins." I looked back into the camera and said, "Forensic detectives hope to identify the bodies soon. In the meantime, police would like to encourage anyone with any pertinent information to call Crime Stoppers. This is Kai Lewis, reporting live. Back to you, Frank."

Through my earpiece, I heard Frank say, "Thank you for that report, Kai. What a sad day for the city of Detroit. Coming up next, we'll be joining the police chief's conference, live. Please stay tuned."

The television broadcast then broke into a commercial break.

"Kai, can you hear me?" Frank asked. "We need to talk."

I removed my earpiece; I had no interest in speaking to Frank. Even though I hadn't heard from Deandre since the fateful night he left my apartment a month ago, I was still hopeful that we could reconcile. I refused to allow Frank—or anyone—to complicate that.

My cameraman started to pack up the equipment.

I asked, "Isn't Madison supposed to help you with that? Where is she?"

"I think she went back to the van."

I shook my head. "Hmm. It's not like her to slack off. Is she feeling all right?"

"I think so."

Mrs. Jenkins, who was still standing there, said, "I sure hope they catch whoever did this. It hasn't been safe around here for a long time. My purse was snatched so many times that I stopped carrying one. Also, some knuckleheaded kids broke into my house one morning while I was at church. They only stole my diamond ring, though, and it was a fake. My poor husband, God rest his soul, couldn't afford anything better than cubic zirconia. But this? This is just plain evil. Seven bodies? Seven dead people?" She shook her head and looked down at the sidewalk. "I won't be able to sleep till they throw whoever did this under the jail! I probably won't see this city turn around in my lifetime, but I sure hope it happens soon. My children live here, and so do my grandchildren, and I got one great-grandbaby. This just ain't right—no way, no how. Well, God bless you, sweetheart."

"You too, ma'am," I said.

Mrs. Jenkins walked back to her small, single-story brick home.

I felt sorry for her. I knew it was unlikely that the crime would be solved. I also feared that my mother would end up like poor Mrs. Jenkins, an aging woman surrounded by danger and blight. I knew life with Deandre would make it easy for me to move my mama out of the 'hood. With his NBA salary and my income as a reporter, I would have been able to buy her a brand new house, with the open kitchen she'd always wanted. I was sure I could still make it happen on my own, but it was going to take a whole lot longer.

Madison jogged toward me and said, "Sorry. I was talking to a man who knows something about the case, but he doesn't want to speak on camera." She handed me a slip of paper.

I looked down at the note and read: _"Meet me @ Banko's Bar @ 8 p.m. 2nite."_

"Who gave you this?" I asked.

"He wouldn't tell me his name, but he claims he knows you personally."

"There are a lot of crazy stalkers out there," I said, balling up the note. "You're gonna have to be more careful."

"He knew you wouldn't believe it, so he told me three facts about you to prove he's legit. Is your middle name Sarita? Did you go to Vernor Elementary? Did you have a golden retriever when you were growing up?"

"Uh, yeah, but...he could have Googled that, maybe found it on Facebook."

She shrugged. "It's not my place to tell you what to do, Ms. Lewis, but I really think you should meet this guy. He seems to know a lot. I can go with you if you want."

"No, I'll handle this on my own."

## CHAPTER 15

The Dramatics' classic "Whatcha See Is Whatcha Get" played from the jukebox as I walked into the West Side lounge. Banko's Bar was empty, except for two middle-aged men shooting pool and a plump barmaid with a short afro.

As I sat down on a barstool, the barmaid approached me and asked, "Can I get you anything?"

"White wine please."

She poured a glass of Chardonnay and placed it on a napkin in front of me.

I thanked her and took a sip.

One of the men shooting pool looked over at me, and I wondered if he was the mysterious man who had slipped the note to Madison. I hadn't been totally honest with her earlier when I'd said someone could simply search those very personal details about me online; I wasn't that famous—at least not yet—and I didn't post that sort of thing on Facebook. Whoever had written the note definitely knew me, but I didn't recognize the man holding the cue stick.

He walked over to me with a big grin on his face. "How you doin' tonight, sweetheart? Ain't you that girl from TV? I'd offer to buy you a drink, but with all the money you make, you oughtta buy _me_ a whole _bottle_ of something real nice!" He laughed until he wheezed, exposing a mouthful of missing teeth.

I opened my purse and pulled a ten-dollar bill out of my wallet. I was anxious to pay for my drink and go home.

The front door opened, and Alfonso "Ace" Brown stepped inside. His hazel eyes lit up as he turned in my direction. He had a caramel complexion and rugged features. His neatly groomed goatee framed his sparkling smile, and his wavy, jet-black hair was done in neat cornrows. He was dressed in a brown leather jacket, a white shirt, jeans, and Timberland boots. Platinum chains adorned his muscular chest.

Ace and I had a history. We'd grown up in the same neighborhood, and he was the first boy I'd ever kissed with any sort of tongue action. In fact, I'd lost my virginity to him many years ago, when I was only sixteen years old and he was nineteen. He'd held me so close that he had me believing he was going to be my first and only, but a few months later, I caught him in bed with my sister.

I still hadn't forgiven Ace or LaNaya for their betrayal, but deep down inside, I realized everything worked out for the best. Over the years, he'd been in and out of penitentiaries for selling drugs and a few robberies. I had also heard that Ace had enough baby-mamas to set a new record on _The Maury Show._ Surprisingly, he still looked just as fine as he had sixteen years ago, when he'd popped my cherry to the sound of Aaliyah's "One in a Million" playing on my stereo.

As Ace made his way over to me, the middle-aged man with the pool cue said, "You sure are a fine thing, but I'm too old to be getting into brawls over females. My grill wouldn't be so jacked up now if I hadn't..." He looked at Ace and said, "Oh! I don't mean no disrespect, man," and then he hurried back to the pool table.

Ace wrapped his arms around me and kissed my cheek. He whispered in my ear, "I knew you'd come."

I smiled. "Actually, I was just about to leave."

He sat down next to me. "You look good, Kai. How's the family?"

"Well, Mom's okay, and I guess LaNaya is too. I can't say for sure. We both know how she can be."

"I'm real proud of you. Every time I see you on TV, it brings back memories of me and you."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not here to walk down Memory Lane with you, Ace. Can you please just me what know about the case?"

"Why you gotta be like that? You can't just chill with your boy for a second?" He called out to the barmaid, "Lemme get some Rémy!"

"My being here is work related. I'm just following up on a lead."

"Yeah, you was always about that paper chase. I respect that. To tell ya the truth, I just wanted to see you up close. Damn, you look even better than you do on TV."

"So you don't know anything about what happened at that abandoned house?"

"I didn't say that."

"What do you know?"

The barmaid brought him his drink.

He took a sip, licked his lips at me, and said, "How bad do you wanna find out?"

I grabbed my purse and stood up.

"Calm down, girl. I'm just playin' with you. You look uptight, like you're missing a little of the f-word in your life."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Fun! You used to like to have fun. What happened?"

I rolled my eyes. "Are you gonna tell me about the case or not?"

"Yep, but you gotta promise to answer one question for me."

"What?"

"You mind sitting down first?"

I sat on the stool in a huff.

He took a long swig of his drink and asked, "Are you still mad about what went down between me and LaNaya back in the day? Be honest."

"Well, I'm not as mad as I used to be."

"I was on some real stupid shit when I messed with your sister. One night, she came over to my crib wearing them Daisy Dukes. I was all twisted off some Mad Dog 20/20. I know that ain't no excuse, Kai, and if I could do it all over again, I'd pick brains over booty. I know you still care. Otherwise, you wouldn't be mad at me. I know I ain't one of them six-figure niggas you used to, but what you see is what you get with me. We should kick it sometime, for real."

I brushed his hand away. "I'm in a relationship, and even if I was single, it would never work out between us."

"You can't know till you try, but I know you ain't tryin' to hear that right now."

"Look, I kept my promise, and now it's time for you to do the same."

"All I can tell you about the case is what a friend of a friend told me."

"What's that?"

"It ain't no ordinary 'hood shit. When the truth comes out, some high-profile motherfuckas are gonna take the fall. I'm talking about businessmen, politicians...even some preachers."

"How are they involved?"

He shook his head. "Baby girl, I can't tell you nothing else, no names, 'cause snitches get—"

"Stitches? I've heard that before."

"I wouldn't be worried about no li'l stitches. You don't understand, Kai. These people are dangerous as hell. If I say too much, I might end up being the eighth body to be found."

"Then why are you even here? Why'd you put your life in danger to talk to me?"

"Two reasons. First, I trust you, and I know you're gonna do your job, even if you find out some foul shit about some powerful people."

"What's the other reason?"

"It'll come to light soon enough."

"Why so much suspense?"

"It's safer that way—for both of us. Baby girl, I gotta make my way back over to the East Side. Lemme walk you to your car."

In the parking lot, we exchanged phone numbers. When I was safely inside of my car, Ace got into his electric-blue Camaro parked at the corner. It had twenty-four-inch spinning chrome wheels, tinted windows, and a vanity license plate that read, "REALITEE." He waved goodbye, then drove off.

## CHAPTER 16

At 2:31 a.m., I woke up to the ringing of my iPhone. I looked at my nightstand and saw Ace's name flashing on the screen, and I was sure it had to be a booty call. I hesitated. Part of me was still holding out hope for Deandre, but Ace had looked so sexy at the bar that I didn't think I'd be strong enough to resist him. I turned the ringer off and closed my eyes.

A few seconds later, my phone rang again.

I decided to answer this time. "Hello?"

"What's up, baby girl? Did I wake you?"

"Yeah."

"Are you alone right now?"

"That's none of your business."

"I'll take that as a yes. I thought you had a man."

"I did...uh...I do."

"He must be triflin' as hell if he ain't lying next to you right now."

"He has to travel, for work."

"Later about him. What's up with me and you though? I been thinking about you nonstop since I saw you last week. You looked so fuckin' sexy. I don't even know how I controlled myself. I remember everything about you, even that sexy-ass birthmark on your left thigh. I used to love the way you wrapped your long legs around me when I was deep inside you. You told me I was the only man you'd ever wanna be with, baby."

"Okay. I'm hanging up now!"

"I dare you."

"Bye!"

"You know what was on my mind when we were in the parking lot the other night? All I wanted to do was put your sexy ass in the back seat of my Camaro, lift up your skirt, and lick all over your pretty-ass coochie. I still remember exactly how it looks. Just seeing you made me so fucking hard."

"Ace, I'm really hanging up this time."

"Naw, you ain't goin' nowhere. Your pussy's too wet for you to hang up now."

"You're so cocky."

"Tell me I'm lyin'. Tell me you ain't thinkin' 'bout the way I used to make you cum two or three times with my tongue before I made you cum all over my dick."

Memories of my intimate encounters with Ace flooded my mind. The man used to eat me out like I was a three-course meal. I sighed and open my legs wide, picturing his handsome face between my thighs.

"Are you touching it for me?"

"Yeah." I slid my finger into my moist pussy and massaged my clit with my thumb.

"I'm stroking my dick right now, thinking about how sexy you look fingering yourself. Put the phone down there so I can hear how wet it is."

I hesitated for only a moment, then put the phone near my crotch and let him listen to the squishy sounds of my fingers going in and out of my pussy. I put the phone back to my ear and let out a moan. I asked, "Did that get you hard, baby?"

"Yep."

"How hard?"

"Like a fuckin' stone...and it's got your name on it. You need to quit playing and lemme come get at that pussy."

"We can't—"

"I know you wanna feel this dick deep inside you, baby. I remember how you used to scream my name. I know you miss it, Kai."

"Hold on."

"What?"

"Just hold on."

I pulled a vibrator, the largest of the three I owned, out of the shoebox that I kept under my bed. For several years, I'd refused to buy one because I'd always thought they were only for desperate, pathetically lonely women, but now I was proud of my sex toy collection. They certainly came in handy when I was between relationships: safe sex on demand! "I'm back."

"Where did you go, sexy?"

"Not far." I turned the vibrator on and inserted it in my pussy. The pulsating sensation was so intense that I shut my eyes and screamed. I yelled louder as I stroked myself with the vibrator. After a few deep thrusts, I came all over the plastic, battery-operated dick, and I slowly slid it out of my pussy.

"Did you cum real good, baby? Real hard?" he asked.

"Yeah...with a little help from my vibrator."

"Why you wanna fuck with a toy when you can have the real thing? Quit playing and gimme your address."

"Not tonight."

"Aw, you got me rock hard, baby. Can you at least send me a picture of your titties so I can think about how good it would feel to nut all over 'em? You got perfect titties. You know that, right?"

"Thanks, but I don't do pictures."

"Hold on."

A few seconds later, I saw a new message on my phone, a digital picture of Ace's dick. It was long, thick, and caramel, just like the rest of his sculpted body. The sight of it made me want to change my mind about inviting him over; I knew he could make me cum better than all three of my vibrators combined.

"Did you get it?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"So let me come over so I can make you cum over and over, baby."

"Ace, I—"

"C'mon, baby. I know you want it. I heard how wet you are."

"But we can't just—"

"Why not? It's clear to me that you ain't got a man, at least not tonight. Your fine ass shouldn't be sleepin' alone."

"It's...complicated."

"Naw, dis shit's easy, Kai. Just gimme your address, and I'm there."

"I'm going through some things in my relationship, Ace, and I don't wanna make it worse."

"You love him?"

"Yeah."

"Then how come you talkin' all that nasty shit to me?"

"I don't know."

"Lemme guess. He's a good dude, but he don't satisfy you."

"It isn't that."

"You ain't makin' no sense to me, but females be impossible to figure out anyway. Do me a favor and take another look at the picture I sent you before you go to sleep. You got my number, and you can use it whenever and _however_ you want."

After I hung up the phone, I thought about Ace's parting words. I had gone over a month and half without sex, and my last time with Deandre left a lot to be desired. My collection of battery-operated toys could get me through my horniest moments, but there was no substitute for being in the arms of a real man.

Ace was sexy as hell, but I was reluctant to rekindle anything with him. He'd done me wrong once, in a big way, and I had a feeling the drama wouldn't end with him. For all I knew, if I gave in to the urge to go to his house one night, I might encounter anything from a fanatical baby-mama to some kind of New Jack City-style cocaine operation. Still, I needed to get some soon, and if enough time passed without any word from Deandre, I knew I just might have to give in and take that old flame up on his offer to put my fire out once again.

## CHAPTER 17

Mama and I were in the kitchen, preparing Sunday dinner. I opened a box of Jiffy cornbread mix and poured the yellow powder in a bowl. She stood at the stove, stirring a big pot of seafood gumbo; the aroma made my mouth water. My maternal grandmother was from New Orleans, and the recipe had been passed down through several generations. I was glad I was wearing my most loose-fitting jeans, because I planned to have seconds and thirds, if I could even stop there.

I smiled at my mother. "Mmm, that smells so good, Mama."

She nodded. "I wanted to cook your favorite dish today."

"I hope you didn't go to too much trouble."

"Hush, girl! It ain't no trouble at all to make sure my baby girl has a happy birthday."

"Thanks, Mama."

"I know you're still feeling down about Deandre, but all you need to do is pray over it. If he's the man God wants you to be with, it'll all work out."

"You've always got such a positive outlook, even when things get rough and confusing. How do you do it?"

"That's the only way to be, honey. How do you think I've managed to look so good at my age?" She fluffed her curls like she was doing a photo shoot for _Ebony._

I chuckled. "Oh, Mama! I love you so much."

We heard the jingle of keys unlocking the side door.

"Hey, y'all!" LaNaya called out as she walked into the kitchen.

I hadn't seen my sister for months and a lot had changed about her appearance. Now, she was wearing her hair in a long, silky, golden weave. She was dressed in a fitted black jumpsuit and matching alligator boots. I also noticed that her breasts were bigger than mine. LaNaya's boob job and blonde hair had transformed her into a chocolate-dipped Anna Nicole Smith.

She embraced Mama and kissed her cheek, then hugged me and said, "Happy birthday, big head!"

"Where the hell...uh, excuse me," I said, stopping my profanity when my mother glared at me. "Where the heck have you been?" I asked.

"My new job has been keeping me busy, but I wouldn't miss the opportunity to celebrate your b-day."

"Where are the kids?" Mama asked.

"Javon has them this weekend," she explained.

Mama shook her head. "Lord, help my grandbabies!"

"Mama, as triflin' as he might be, he's still their daddy."

"God as my witness, that man better not lay a finger on those little ones!"

"He never has, Mama. Javon only took his anger on me, but that's all in the past."

"I'm real proud of you for leaving him. I know it's not easy for a woman in your shoes to walk away."

"It's a whole lot easier now that I've got a career so I can support myself and the kids."

"What exactly is your job, LaNaya?" I asked.

"I work for an IT company."

"Huh? What in the world qualifies you to work in IT? I bet you don't even know what IT stands for."

"You can hate all you want, but that IT company got me that brand new whip!"

I looked out through the blinds and saw a sparkling gold Mercedes Benz E-Class, parked right there in Mama's driveway.

Mama threw her hands up. "Girls, please stop this carrying on. I'm ready to sit down and have a nice dinner. Can we make that happen?"

"Yes, ma'am," LaNaya and I said in unison.

The moment brought back childhood memories. Back in the day, Mama didn't hesitate to swat our little behinds with her belt when we were disrespectful; she'd come from a spare-the-rod-spoil-the-child generation, and she had no problem exercising that doctrine on us when she found it necessary. Nevertheless, even Mama's corporal punishment had never managed to tame my sister's wild ass. I knew LaNaya would have turned out better if our father were still alive, and I was sure I would've turned out better too. At a minimum, I might have had healthier relationships with the opposite sex. Part of me believed the source of my issues with men came down to just missing my daddy.

We all sat at the living room table and helped ourselves to bowls of gumbo and big pieces of warm cornbread.

After dinner, LaNaya dimmed the overhead light, and Mama disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, she came out holding a cake with two giant "3" birthday candles on top. My eyes teared as LaNaya and Mama serenaded me with a duet of "Happy Birthday."

Mama smiled and said, "Don't forget to make a wish, baby."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. In my thirty-three years of life, I had been blessed with an exciting career and a good family. I had a beautiful home, with a closet full of designer clothes and shoes. Most material possessions were within my reach, between my salary and my two platinum credit cards.

There was only one thing missing from my life. I thought I'd found it with Deandre, but I could no longer fool myself into believing he was still mine. Whether he'd really broken up with me because of our sexual mishap or some other reason, it didn't matter. He was gone, and I was going to have to start over again.

I blew out the candles and wished for a love of my own: a love who was genuine and true; a love who didn't play games or hold back; a love who would bless me with a ring on my finger and a baby in my belly.

As I cut into Mama's delicious red velvet layer cake, she said, "Just cut me a thin slice, baby—just a little taste. I've gotta watch my sugar intake. I'm trying my best to listen to my doctor."

"I'm glad to hear it, Mama."

"Well, you can help me stick to it by taking the leftover cake with you. The only temptation I need in this house is David Ruffin's sweet voice on my Motown's Greatest Hits CD. You remember when your daddy used to sing, _'I've got sunshine, on a cloudy day...'"_

I joined in, _"When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May..."_

LaNaya, Mama and I harmonized, _"Well, I guess you say, 'What can make me feel this way?' My girl, my girl, my girl...talkin' 'bout my girl! My girl!"_

LaNaya riffed with, _"Oooohhhh!"_

We all let out big laughs.

I took a bite of the moist cake and looked at Mama. "Wow! You really outdid yourself! Homemade icing and everything?"

She nodded and said, "Of course, for the birthday girl!"

"I know I can't top Mama's cookin', but I did get you a little somethin'-somethin'." LaNaya reached under the table and held up a bottle of Hennessy Privilege.

I thanked her and smiled. I could count on one hand the number of gifts LaNaya had given me through the years, and that was, by far, the nicest and most expensive. In fact, we'd often feuded on each other's birthdays and holidays about her abusive relationship with Javon, so I was happy this year would be different.

"I figured I owe you this much. How about a toast?"

Mama stood up and said, "You two go ahead. I'll get started on the dishes."

I said, "I can help, Mama."

"No, you're off the hook tonight. I've got 364 other days to take you up on that offer." Then, with a smile, she collected a pile of plates and walked into the kitchen.

LaNaya grabbed two glasses from the middle shelf of Mama's built-in wooden cabinets and poured each of us a shot. She lifted her glass. "I'd like to make a toast to my beautiful, smart, big-headed sister." She grinned from ear to ear at the shocked look on my face. "Just kidding...but I meant what I said about you being smart and pretty, and you've finally grown into that big ol' head. Anyway, may this be your best year yet!"

I smiled as we clinked glasses. I swallowed a bit of cognac. "Mmm," I said.

"Glad you like it. So...what's up with you and Deandre?"

I shrugged.

"Girl, he wasn't all that anyway. If you're gonna go pro, it shouldn't be with no bench-warmer."

"FYI, he's been getting a lot more playing time this season."

"Look at you, gettin' all sensitive about your man. Deandre must really have you sprung."

"It's much more than that."

"Hold up. Are you talking 'bout the l-word?"

I nodded.

"Aw! My little sister's in love!"

"Well...I love him, but we're kinda broken up right now. I mean, I'm not really sure, and I think I may have—"

"What happened?"

"It's hard to explain, but we kinda had a...misunderstanding," I said vaguely. I didn't want to share the gory details, especially not with Mama standing a few away in the kitchen.

"He was cheating on you?"

I shook my head.

"He was on the down-low?"

"No!"

She shrugged. "I had to ask. You can never tell with ballers. Some of them have had so many women that they get curious about men."

"Oh God, LaNaya!"

"What? I'm just tellin' like it is."

"Deandre's not like that!"

"Well, since you won't tell me what really happened, can you at least tell me what you plan to do?"

"Right now, I'm just...playing the waiting game."

"Screw that waiting-to-exhale shit," LaNaya said.

Mama cleared her throat and yelled from the kitchen, "You oughtta be ashamed, usin' language like that on the Lord's day!" she scolded.

"Sorry, Mama," she said. Then LaNaya giggled and whispered to me, "You oughtta at least get something on the side while you wait it out."

I thought back to the night I'd had phone sex with Ace.

"There's nothing wrong with it, Kai. Guys do it all the time."

"I know, but that's not my style." I took another sip of cognac. "You won't believe who I ran into the other day."

"Who?"

"Ace."

"Yeah? I heard he got out last month."

"We'll see how long it takes for him to get locked up again. Can you believe he had the nerve to ask me out?"

"People change, sis. Maybe you should give him a chance."

"Funny. I might still be with him if you hadn't—"

She rolled her eyes. "Girl, that was how many years ago? You need to just charge that to the game already."

"But why did you do it? You knew he was my first, that I loved him."

"You really wanna have this conversation right now?"

"Just tell me the truth, LaNaya."

"To be honest, it didn't have nothing to do with him. I...just wanted to get back at you."

"Huh? For what?" I asked, shocked.

She took a long swig and answered, "For being so damn perfect. You had everything I wanted—an after-school job, a full college scholarship, and a hot guy. All I had was Javon, giving me black eyes. I was angry at you, angry at the whole damn world. But I've grown up now, and I know what I did was selfish and stupid. I'm sorry, Kai. Really."

I touched her hand and said, "It's okay, LaNaya. I forgive you."

She smiled. "Thanks."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, I just...worry about you. What's really going on with this job of yours?"

"Well, if you must know, it doesn't involve me selling my goodies or stripper poles."

"Then what is it?"

She leaned across the table and whispered in my ear, "It's a webcam operation, easiest money I've ever made."

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "I'll tell you more about it some other time. I gotta go pick up the kids."

"Just promise me you'll be careful. There are plenty of weirdoes and axe murderers online."

"I'll be fine." She stood and hugged me. "Happy birthday, Kai."

"Thanks."

My iPhone rang as my sister walked into the kitchen and gave Mama a kiss goodbye. I opened my purse and picked it up. I was surprised to see Deandre's name light up the screen. "Hello?" I answered cautiously.

"Happy birthday, Reese's!"

I walked upstairs to my old bedroom for a little privacy. "Where have you been?"

"It's a long story, but I'd like to tell you face to face."

"I haven't heard from you in weeks." I sat down on the bed and looked at the wall I'd decorated years ago with magazine pictures of my favorite R&B singers, from Maxwell to D'Angelo.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I really need to see you. Will you at least give me a chance to explain what happened?"

"You can't just pop back into my life this way."

"You've got the right to be mad at me, but please don't throw away everything we have. Reese's, I miss you. I need you. I love you. I've been thinking about you every day since I last saw you."

"Then why'd you disappear on me?"

"If you give me chance to explain—"

"Just tell me now."

"Please let me tell you in person. Can I see you?"

"I-I don't know."

"If you'd feel better about it, we can meet in public somewhere. All I ask is that you hear me out. If you don't like what I've got to say, you can leave, and I won't bother you again."

Lord knew I needed closure with Deandre if I was ever going to move on; if I really planned to start over, I couldn't do it with all that unfinished business hanging over my head. All of my slip-ups with Frank had taught me that much. On the other hand, if Deandre had a good reason for disappearing from my life—a damn good reason—I thought I might be willing to really forgive him and give our relationship another chance. No matter what, I had to be strong and resist his advances. I promised myself I wouldn't give up my panties for at least a month, maybe longer. I had to make him understand that what he did was not okay. Still, resisting him wasn't going to be easy; just the sound of his voice was making me wet.

"You still there, Reese's?"

"Yes."

"So does that mean you'll meet up with me?"

"Okay."

"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!"

## CHAPTER 18

I rode the elevator up to the seventy-second floor of the General Motors Renaissance Center. When the doors opened, I walked into the Coach Insignia Steakhouse. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of downtown Detroit and Windsor, Canada. I looked around the room and spotted Deandre sitting at a table alone.

He waved, and I made my way over to him. With each step, I was torn between running for the door and straddling him in front of all of those nicely dressed strangers. As much as Deandre had upset me, there was no denying that I was still weak for him. It had been sixty-two days since I'd last had sex. But who's counting?

Deandre was wearing a black suit with a blue, button-down shirt, the dressiest outfit I'd ever seen him wear, even if he didn't have a tie. He looked so sexy that I couldn't help but grin at him. When he stood and wrapped his strong arms around me, I knew I should push him away so he wouldn't think I was so easy, but the sensation of his muscular body against mine felt so amazing that I wanted the hug last forever.

He kissed my cheek, then pulled out the chair for me like a true gentleman. "You look real good, Reese's."

"Thanks," I said and sat down.

He sat across from me, and the glow of the flickering candlelight danced on his handsome face. He looked at me for a moment and said, "I wasn't sure you were gonna show."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a little late."

"It's okay. You're here now. That's all that matters."

"Now that we're face to face, I can't wait to hear what you have to tell me."

"First, I wanna show you something." He took off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his right sleeve. He pulled his shirt back, and I saw a tattoo on his arm: "REESE'S" in calligraphy, right there on his flesh forever.

I smiled a little. "When did you get that?"

"Last weekend." He took my hand and guided it over his body ink.

I was impressed by the permanent ode to me above Deandre's wrist, and touching him—even just his thick forearm—made me horny. It took a couple seconds for me to regain my composure and pull away. I cut my eyes and said, with all the Detroit attitude I could muster without causing a scene at the upscale restaurant, "I hope you realize that a damn tattoo ain't gonna change shit."

The redheaded waitress, oblivious to the drama unfolding at the table, hurried over to us and said, "Good evening, and welcome to the Coach Insignia. Did you get a chance to look at the drink menu? I'm not sure if you're aware, but we have one of Michigan's largest wine lists, and—"

I looked at her and said, "Can you please give us a minute?"

"Oh, uh...absolutely. I'm sorry. Just let me know when you're ready." She turned to walk away.

"On second thought, I'll take a glass of Chardonnay please," I said, hoping a drink might take the edge off of the tension I felt. I didn't even know why I'd bothered to come. Deep down, I knew Deandre never would have disappeared from my life if he really loved me, and none of his excuses would take away the sadness and uncertainty I'd felt on all those lonely nights.

"Well, we have an excellent French Chardonnay and also one from Argentina that's quite popular, and then there's another from—"

"Surprise me."

"Sure thing." She looked at Deandre. "Can I get anything for you, sir?"

"Cognac please."

"Well, we have quite a selection of that too. Would you like—"

"You can surprise me too."

"Great. I'll be right back with your drinks," she said, then turned and walked toward the bar.

"So, Deandre, talk to me. What happened to you, to us?"

He bit his bottom lip. "You might wanna wait for her to get back with those drinks."

"I'm tired of waiting."

"I know, and you deserve to hear the truth. I just...well, I went through some hellified baby-mama drama, Kai. When I told Janice about you, she got so jealous that she threatened to leave the country with Corey. She's got people down in Jamaica, so I knew she wasn't lying. I remember seeing a story on _Dateline_ about a man whose baby-mama took their son to Brazil, and he never saw his kid again. I got scared that Janice was gonna do the same shit to me, so I pretended like I wanted to get back together, just to keep a close eye on her. She had one condition—that I break up with you. As much as it hurt me to do it, I decided to play along. The only problem was that you are so perfect for me that I couldn't think of a good reason to leave you. That night when I picked you up at the airport and we were gettin' it on, I had to think of something, but I didn't want to do something so terrible that you'd hate me forever. I know that what I did was foul, but it was the best I could come up with. Trust me, I'm never gonna make love to you like that again. It's not my style to pressure a woman into anything, sexually or otherwise. I felt real bad doing that, but like I said, it ain't me at all."

"How did you know I wouldn't go along with it?" I asked, skeptical.

He said, "I wasn't sure. I'm not gonna lie though. It really was a test, to see if you're wifey material. I figured if you went along with it, you'd be just like all these other females, but if you told me no, it would mean you have too much respect for yourself to let a man do whatever he wants, even me. That's the kind of woman I wanna be with, Reese's, and I'm glad you didn't disappoint. All dudes need to be told no sometimes. Don't get me wrong. There's gonna be a time and place for us to try all that freaky shit, but only when you're ready and into it. Maybe on our honeymoon—"

I blinked, taken aback. "Wait...our honeymoon?"

"Yeah, Reese's. We can go wherever you want—the Caribbean, Paris, maybe even Saint-Tropez."

"Before we talk about honeymoons, we need to finish this conversation. You still haven't explained why you pulled a disappearing act on me."

"Janice is crazy possessive. When I was there, she was always checking my cell phone, my email, and my Facebook. As much as I missed you, I couldn't take no chances. When I explained the situation to my sisters, they offered to jump her in the parking lot. My whole family is sick and tired of her gold-diggin' ass, but I didn't wanna put my baby-mama in the hospital either. I could never do that Corey. I had to come up with a real plan to keep Janice from taking my son away. The first thing I did was buy him a cell phone so he can call me if she tries anything stupid. Then, I hired a private investigator to put a tracking device on her car, so I'll know if she goes anywhere near an airport. Now that all that's taken care of, we can make a new start, you and me," he said, looking deeply into my eyes.

I wanted to believe him, but I still had many questions. "Did you sleep in the same bed with her?"

The waitress returned to our table and set our drinks down in front of us. "Have you had a chance to look at the dinner menu yet?" she asked.

Deandre took a long swig of his drink and said, "Could you come back in a few minutes?"

She took notice of my angry expression and said, "Absolutely," then hurried away.

"Answer me, Deandre. Did you sleep in the same bed with her?"

He nodded.

"Were you intimate with her?"

He nodded again. "A couple times, but my heart wasn't in it. Every time I touched her, I thought of you. Janice ain't done shit with her life except mooch off me. Even when we were in college, she had dollar signs in her eyes. Everybody knew I was gonna go pro, so when she got pregnant, she tried to pressure me into marrying her, but I refused. Don't get me wrong. I love my son with everything inside me, but the thought of marrying Janice never crossed my mind. I'm looking at the woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I've got it all planned out. After we get married, I'll apply for full custody of my son. No judge will give it to me now because of my travel schedule, but all of that will change when you become Corey's stepmom."

"Hold on. This is too much, too fast."

"If there's one thing I've learned on the court and in life, Reese's, it's that when life comes at you fast, you gotta go with it."

The waitress returned to our table with a small plate of grilled shrimp and placed it between us.

"Excuse me, but we didn't order this," I said.

"This appetizer is compliments of the chef. Enjoy!" she explained before checking on another table.

Deandre grinned. "What's wrong with you, girl? You gonna turn down free _scrimps?"_

I laughed and grabbed one of the shrimp. Underneath it, I was shocked to see a glistening diamond ring in the middle of the plate. I screamed when Deandre picked up the ring and dropped to his knees.

Everyone in the restaurant watched as he took my hands and said, "Kai Lewis, you would make me the happiest man alive if you would be my wife."

"Deandre!"

"Tonight is the beginning of forever. All you have to do is say yes."

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

The restaurant patrons cheered, and a few shouted, "Congratulations!"

He slid the gorgeous diamond onto my ring finger, and we both stood up. I was elevated all the way up to cloud nine when he knelt down and parted my lips with his tongue, a kiss rich with passion and desire. I wrapped my arms around his strong back. He grabbed me by the waist and literally swept me off my feet; I kicked my legs in the air. My birthday wish had come true, and I felt as if I was living my own version of happily ever after, the ending to a perfect romance novel.

#### * * *

Later that night, Deandre and I lay in bed together, naked.

He kissed my lips slowly and whispered, "I miss kissing you here, but I really miss kissing you there." He fondled my clit with his middle finger. Before I could say another word, he stuck out his tongue and glided it down my torso. He started by circling my hard nipples, saturating them with his saliva.

I let out a sigh as he worked down to my belly button and finally stopped at the warm folds between my thighs. Each of his slow, wet licks made me holler out with pleasure. My breathing grew heavier, and my legs began to tremble. I closed my eyes.

Deandre moved his skilled tongue faster, bringing me to a sweet climax. After I creamed all over his sexy lips, he climbed up my body and positioned his long, hard dick an inch away from my mouth.

I sucked on the tip of it and licked his shaft with tongue. He moaned when I began to tongue his balls. Next, I took as much of his dick into my mouth as possible and sucked it hard, then slow, then hard again. Suddenly, I tasted a burst of pre-cum.

"Damn, Reese's! You 'bout to make me cum too." He pulled out of my mouth.

"What's wrong, baby?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Nothin'. I'm just not ready to cum yet." He grabbed my breasts and positioned his long, hard stick between them like a hotdog nestled in a soft bun. As he glided back and forth, he flicked his thumbs over my nipples.

I sighed from the sensation. It had been a long time since I'd been titty-fucked and it felt amazing.

"Your tits are so sexy, baby, the best I've ever seen."

I smiled. "And they're all yours now."

He stopped and climbed down my body. He spread my legs apart and penetrated me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. I looked into his eyes, and I was so emotional that a tear slid down my cheek. I muttered his name as he moved deeper and deeper inside of me. It was the best sex we'd ever had.

He asked, "Is this all mine?"

"Yes!" I screamed as Deandre filled me up, moving in and out of me in a sensuous rhythm.

"Did you give it to somebody else while I was away?"

"No!"

He stroked me harder and stared into my eyes. "You sure, baby? You sure I'm the only one?"

"Yes!"

"You gonna let me be the only one for life?"

"Yes!"

"Let me hear you say it."

"You're the only one."

"Tell me I'm the only one for life!"

"You're the only one for life!"

We both climaxed at the same time, and it felt beautiful as our love juices mixed together inside my pussy.

He pulled out of me and lay on my chest.

I stroked his bald head and smiled. "I love you so much, Deandre."

"I love you too, Reese's. I realize I almost messed everything up between us, but I'm so glad you didn't get with no other dudes. I knew you're wife material, and that's why I had to put a ring on it tonight."

My cell phone rang, and I glanced at my nightstand and saw Ace's name light up the screen.

Deandre rolled over on his back and asked, "Who is that?"

"Just, uh...a friend of mine."

"Calling this late, after midnight?"

"Yeah. I'll just call him back later."

"If he's just a friend, why can't you answer it in front of me?"

"I, uh...well, he—"

"You can be honest with me, Reese's. Did you do anything with him?"

"No. Well, yeah...I mean, years ago, but—"

"So I guess I'm not the only one who's been keeping secrets."

"It's not what you think. I'll prove it," I said. I answered the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey, sexy. I been thinkin' about you," Ace said.

"Listen, there's something I need to tell you."

"What's up?"

"I'm engaged."

He laughed. "It turns me on when you play hard-to-get. When can I come over?"

"Did you not hear me? I'm getting married."

"You think I care? Me and you got a forever connection, girl. I'm your first! No other dude can top that, no matter what kinda ring he buy you."

"We have nothing more to talk about. Lose my number!" I said, then hung up the phone.

"You didn't have to do that," Deandre said. "It's my fault if you stepped out. I was with Janice while I was away from you, and if you had him, then—"

"I hear what you're saying, but I want you to know nothing happened. I didn't do anything with him, even though I could have. I didn't because...well, because of you. I'm not sure how much of that conversation you heard, but he was my first. I swear I haven't touched him since I was in high school. Anyway, I'm sorry he messed up our special night."

He took my hand and said, "He didn't mess up nothing. All I want is right here." He stroked the ring on my finger. "I don't expect you to be perfect, Kai. I just want you to be real with me, and I'll do the same from here on out. Never mind Janice, and never mind what's-his-name."

"Ace."

"Never mind Ace."

My phone started ringing again, and I powered it off.

Deandre smiled. "I can't blame him for being obsessed with you, as sexy as you are, but if he calls back here again, I'm gonna have to handle his ass."

I laughed.

He kissed me. "Just kidding, baby. I know I don't gotta be jealous over you, because I can trust you. You can trust me too. That's all that matters. I can't wait to get you to the altar, Reese's."

## CHAPTER 19

The next morning, I called Mama on my way to work to tell her the good news.

"See? I told you it would all work out! I'm so happy for you, honey. I think Deandre will make a wonderful husband. Now we've got a whole lotta planning to do! My baby's getting married! I'm sure you'll want Pastor Robinson to conduct the ceremony, and we can get flowers at—"

"Mama! He just proposed last night."

"There's nothing wrong with trying on a few gowns, right? Just let me call around to some bridal shops and see if I can schedule some appointments for Saturday. I know it's short notice, but considering that my baby girl is famous, I'm sure something can be arranged."

"Mama, we've got plenty of time for all that." I pulled my car into a parking space on the first floor of the garage.

"Chile, please! The early bird catches the worm. If you wait too long, all of the good dresses will be picked over, and my baby deserves the best." She paused and added, "I know you don't always get along with LaNaya, but I think she should be your maid of honor. At the very least, she oughtta be a bridesmaid."

"Of course," I said. Truthfully, my prospects for bridesmaids were pretty bleak. Considering my lack of close female friends, I was sure I'd only have LaNaya, Chantel (if she'd even agree to fly in from whatever country she was living in) and maybe Madison. I'd had issues with women since LaNaya slept with Ace. It was sad to admit, but one of the reasons why I struck up a friendship with Chantel in college was because she was less attractive than me. With her freckled face and buckteeth, I didn't really have to worry about reliving the horror of catching the love of my life and a trusted female with their pants down.

"This is the best news I've heard in a long time, and I just can't wait to meet my new grandbaby. I'm sure he'll get along real good with his little cousins. Maybe he can even teach them to clean up after themselves. Those kids got popcorn kernels all up in my couch cushions."

"Are Cher-Cher and Li'l JJ staying with you again, Mama?"

"Yep. LaNaya dropped 'em off last week, and I ain't heard from her since."

"That's my sister."

"I know how you feel, but the kids shouldn't have suffer because their mama is still trying to get herself together. But enough about that. What's my new grandbaby's name again?"

"Corey."

"What's he like?"

"I haven't met him yet. Things are a little sensitive between him and Deandre and the child's mother. It's...a long story."

"Maybe I'm old school, but I think you shoulda met Corey before Deandre even thought about asking you to marry him. I mean, what if...God forbid, but what if the two of you don't get along? I'm sure it's all gonna work out, but—"

"Mama, please stop worrying."

"I'm not trying to rain on your parade, baby, but when children are involved, certain things can't be overlooked. What's Deandre's mama got to say about all this?"

"I haven't met her yet either."

"What!? That's not a good sign at all."

"Deandre has a strained relationship with his family. Ever since he went pro, they've been treating him like a bank account."

"I see."

"Anyway, I gotta go, or else I'm gonna be late."

"Sure thing. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Mama. I love you."

"I love you too, honey."

After I hung up the phone, I reflected on Mama's wisdom. Even before that conversation, I'd been bothered that Deandre hadn't introduced me to Corey. _Is Deandre hiding something from me?_ I blinked away a tear as I looked down at my sparkling engagement ring. He had seemed so genuine when he'd proposed, and he'd even had my nickname tattooed on his arm, in plain sight. I felt that man's love in my bones, and I'd waited my whole life for someone like him. I remembered the night when LaNaya had come over my apartment. If Deandre was really a dog, he would've screwed her or at least hit on her, but instead of lusting over my sister and her ghetto booty, he climbed back in bed with me. I knew I was just being a fool, and I didn't want my worries, suspicions, and insecurities to spoil things.

I got out of the car, resolved that when I saw him later that night, we would plan a trip to Milwaukee. Mama's right. I needed to get to know Corey before I become his stepmom. I also needed to meet Janice and his whole family. I knew there might be some drama, but I was sure it would be worth the trouble to ensure that my marriage with Deandre had a solid foundation.

When I walked into the news station, Madison was the first to notice my engagement ring. She looked down at it and asked, "Ms. Lewis, is that what I think it is?"

I nodded and smiled.

"Who's the lucky man?"

"Deandre Grant. He plays for the Pistons."

"Well, that proves it," she said.

"What's that?"

"You're the woman who has it all."

My phone started ringing. "Hello?" I answered.

A man's voice said, "Kai?"

"Yes?"

"This is Detective Palmeri."

"Oh! Hi, Detective. How are you?" I asked.

"I'm okay. I, uh...I have a video that might be of interest to you. It's regarding the house on East Nevada, where we found the seven bodies."

"Really? That's great. I'll stop by on my lunch break."

"You might wanna come in sooner."

"Is everything okay?"

"Well, it involves...someone close to you."

"I'll be right there, Detective."

After I hung up the phone, Madison grinned at me. "I don't mean to be nosy, but was that a policeman?"

"Yes."

"Can I come with you? I've always had a thing for men in uniform."

"I need you to stay with Sam to finish up the edit before deadline. Besides, you've got your whole life to worry about men, uniformed or not."

She frowned. "No problem, Ms. Lewis, but will I ever get the chance to cover a really juicy story?"

"Patience pays, Madison. Trust me on that. I'd better get going though. Call me if you need anything."

#### * * *

The lobby at the Detroit Police headquarters was decorated with a fake Christmas wreath and dusty red ribbons.

The receptionist was a morbidly obese, middle-aged sista with a red ponytail weave. She grinned at me and said, "You're that Channel 5 reporter, right? Girl, I watch your special reports all the time. That one you did about teen prostitution was real good. It's such a shame what them girls are willing to do for a twenty-dollar bill. Hell, that's cheaper than a bucket of chicken!" She laughed at her own joke.

I wanted to add that I was sure she knew the colonel's menu by heart, but I managed to say merely, "Thanks. I'm glad you liked the story."

"Unfortunately, I still need to see your ID. It's our policy."

"I'm here to see Detective Palermi," I said, handing her my driver's license. As a local celebrity in Detroit, such interactions were common; the people who saw me on TV every day felt as if they knew me.

"I see you just had a birthday. Did you do anything special to celebrate?"

"Not really."

She looked down at my engagement ring. "Girl, is that a rock on your finger? Oh! Let me see!"

I held my left hand in her face.

"That's real nice. Who's the lucky man?"

"Deandre Grant, he plays for the–"

"Pistons, point guard, Number 14!"

"You must be a big sports fan."

"My nephew cleans the locker rooms at the Palace. He gets me tickets to the games, so I've met all the ballers—Tayshaun, Chauncey, and Deandre too."

"Really?"

"You bet. Listen, girl, I don't mean to talk bad about your future husband, but I'd keep my eyes open if I were you. At the rate he's going, he'll be the next Wilt Chamberlain."

"Excuse me?"

"It ain't none of my business, but I thought you should know. I mean, I'd hate to see a nice girl like you walk down the aisle with a man who has a harem of women from coast to coast."

"You don't know what you're talking about, and you need to keep your damn mouth shut." I practically ran to the elevator and pressed the "Up" button as fast as I could. I stepped inside and pressed the button for the fifth floor. Clearly, the receptionist was jealous because a man like Deandre wouldn't touch her, not even after guzzling down a pool full of liquor; but I knew hating was a religion for Detroit females. She embodied all the reasons why I avoided friendships with other women.

I got off of the elevator and walked over to Detective Palmeri's desk, waving at a few of the other officers on the way. He was sitting at his desk, talking on the phone as I approached his cubicle.

He hung up quickly and said, "Hey, Kai."

"Hey. How are you?"

"Getting by. Have a seat. I'd like to show you that video I was telling you about." He turned around in his chair and punched some keys on his keyboard. He seemed distracted and down, and it was the first time he hadn't offered me any coffee. His typical flirtatious manner had been replaced with a distant demeanor, and he was barely even cordial.

I started to ramble, hoping to break up the tension. "With the bankruptcy and all the cutbacks, I can understand why the Christmas decorations aren't Martha Stewart quality, but I think the boys and girls in blue still deserve a little holiday cheer, given the state of morale in the D."

He took a deep breath and said, "What I'm about to show you might make you uncomfortable, but you need to see it."

## CHAPTER 20

I sat at Detective Palmeri's desk, watching his computer screen fill with a grainy video of a police interrogation. I recognized the man in the video right away: Ace, wearing the same leather jacket he'd been wearing the night I'd seen him at Banko's Bar. His hair was slicked back in a ponytail, and in the video, Detective Palmeri lit Ace's cigarette...

#### * * *

"I've been trying to quit this shit," Ace explained as he took a long drag, "just like I been trying to quit the game. I swore I was gonna go straight this time when I made parole. I even got me a li'l bullshit job at Popeye's for a minute. But then I got sick of fryin' chicken for slave wages, and the streets called me again."

"The best thing you can do for yourself is talk to me," Detective Palmeri said. "Tell me what happened...and don't leave out a damn thing. I need to hear your side, because it doesn't look good for you right now, Ace. The only way out is to tell me your side."

"What's in it for me? I ain't trying to go back to Jackson."

"I can't promise you immunity, but I will talk the prosecutor on your behalf."

"Fuck dat! I want an attorney!"

"Have it your way, but I can guarantee that you'll do time if you don't talk. Our informant will testify that you were responsible for everything that happened at that house on Nevada Street."

"You talkin' 'bout Boo-man's crack-head ass? Hell naw! He's lying! Ain't no jury gonna believe him no way."

"You're looking at a mandatory life sentence, and I know you're too smart to take that gamble. Talk to me...so I can help you."

Ace took another long drag of his cigarette. "This is some bullshit, man! I wanna lawyer up!"

The detective stood and walked to the door.

"Hold up! Hold up, man!" Ace pleaded. "Are you serious about...mandatory life?"

"Yeah, but if you talk to me and I can corroborate your story, I'm sure the prosecutor would be open to a reduced sentence."

Ace puffed his cigarette. "Reduced? As in...parole?"

"That depends on what you have to tell me." Detective Palmeri sat down again.

"I ain't no snitch, man! But I can't be locked up for life."

"I know it's not easy, but you're doing the right thing."

"I swear, I never meant to get caught up in none of this shit! I can't believe a man is dead. It's been on my mind ever since that night. I've done some dirt in my day, but I ain't never killed nobody."

"Just start from the beginning."

"A'ight. Well, one night, my brother took me the strip club, where he worked as a DJ. I had only been out of the pen for a few weeks, and I was on the prowl for some ass, ya know? I ran into a home-girl I knew from back in the day. She goes by the name Candy Apple. We had a few drinks, and I told her 'bout my money troubles. A few weeks later, she called me and told me she had a new job, chatting online with horny motherfuckas for crazy cash. She wanted to get me hired there too.

"I told her, 'Hell naw! I'd rather put up with hot grease and rude ass customers at the register than to show my body to strange motherfuckas on the Internet.' I was never down for that gay shit. Even when I was locked up, I did whatever I had to do to keep them horny niggas off my ass. So, anyway, she starts laughing and says, 'No, stupid. I'm talking about you working security.'

"The building was way on the East Side, and there was nothin' around 'cept for empty fields and a streetlight that didn't work. When I walked inside, it looked like a normal office, till I went upstairs. In every cubicle, there was a different girl, sitting in front of a computer screen, getting naked and talkin' 'bout all types of freaky shit. They was all races, all sizes, all ages. Hell, one of 'em looked like my grandma, and she was dressed in some Aunt Jemima getup!

"The guy who ran the place was this preppy-ass white boy who went by the name of CyberKing, one of them Silicon Valley rejects. In his office, he had a big TV, and he could see all his girls in little boxes on the screen. CyberKing told me he liked to watch. He also asked if I knew how to use a gun. I told him, 'Yeah,' and he offered me the job. He paid me a $1,000 a week to sit in my car and watch people comin' and goin' in and out of the building.

"I knew CyberKing was up to something, but I didn't worry about it. I was making decent money, and everything was cool. Then, one day, he introduced me to this cat named Boo-man and told me he was gonna be working with me on some special projects. Right away, I knew not to trust that freaky nigga. He was high as hell, and it wasn't off no weed. I seen enough crack-heads to know better. They all got a certain look, a smell. It was clear to me that Boo-man was hooked on the pipe, even though he had a fresh haircut, nice clothes, and all that. That fool didn't fool me.

"I thought about quitting my job, 'cause I know crack-heads are always getting caught up in some kinda craziness, and I didn't want no part of that, but I needed that bread. I got a lotta kids, man, and going back to frying chicken wasn't an option for me. It didn't take long for me to figure out that CyberKing was stealing credit cards from the dudes who looked at the website. Then, he charged all types of shit and resold it on another website.

"If one of the customers caught CyberKing, he blackmailed them with a video of them talking to one of his girls, getting off with them hoes. Most of the guys were married, with kids, so they backed off. But CyberKing didn't steal from everybody. He even gave freebies to council members, judges, you name it. The governor's nephew was one of the biggest customers. Those connects in high places kept him from getting busted.

"CyberKing was making over a million a year, but too much ain't enough for some folks, so he came up with another angle. The dudes who checked out the website was from all over the world, but there were a lot of local cats too. I guess it's just too cold in the Midwest to go long without some ass.

"CyberKing set up shop in a house nearby and named it the CyberQueen Love Shack, a spot for johns to meet the freaks of their dreams. Them horny fools drove up from all over the state, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky even. My job was to be the lookout.

"He only used his most trusted girls, but he paid 'em top dollar. When the dude walked into the house, the chick was waiting for him. She'd get him to take his clothes off, then tease the poor motherfucka like crazy and invite him upstairs. Then, Boo-man's would come outta the first-floor closet and steal the man's clothes, wallet, and car keys and drive the whip to a chop shop.

"Upstairs, the dude would be seconds away from getting some hot pussy, and he'd hear his car ignition. Ten times out of ten, he'd come running out of the house screaming, and that motherfucka was literally ass out! CyberKing upped his game from stealing credit cards to identities. They were all too embarrassed to press charges. Things went smooth for a minute.

"Of all the girls, Candy Apple was the baddest. For starters, her ass is a thing of beauty, and she was the best at scheming those dudes and getting them all worked up while Boo-man did his part. Anyway, one night, a dude walked up in the house. I was in my car, on the phone with my baby-mama, playing lookout. Next thing I knew, I heard three gunshots. When I got in the house, I saw the dude's dead body on the floor. There was blood all over, and the gun was on the floor. Boo-man said Candy Apple shot him, and she said he did it. I don't know who the fuck to believe, to tell you the truth.

"At first, I thought it was Boo-man. I mean, with him being a crack-head and all, murder wouldn't be nothin' but a thang to him. But Candy Apple had this look in her eye, like she wanted to pick up the gun and pop off a few more to make sure the motherfucka was dead. Anyway, Boo-man popped open his trunk, and we put the dude's body in there. He swapped the license plate on the dead man's car with one he stole."

"What kind of car was it?"

"I think it was a Lexus...maybe it was a Benz. Whatever it was, it was real nice, the kind of ride that would give niggas wet dreams."

"So, then what happened?"

"Boo-Man told Candy Apple to drive the car to the Paradise Motel parking lot and wait for us at the twenty-four-hour Coney Island across the street. But she never showed. I wouldn't be surprised if she kept it the whip for herself. I know I would have."

"Enough about Candy Apple. What happened to the body?" Detective Palmeri asked.

"Me and Boo-man took it to that crib on East Nevada. When we got inside, there was a funny smell in the air. It turned out that CyberKing had another website called CyberHitMen.com. He didn't trust Boo-man to kill nobody. He hired professionals for that. Boo-man's job was to chop up the bodies and make 'em disappear, but all his crack-head ass did was pile up them dead motherfuckas in the basement of that empty house."

"Can you identify any of the seven we found?"

"Naw. I don't know nothing about them."

"What about the man you helped him take to the house?"

"Boo-man stole the man's ID. I don't know his name. All I know is that he drove a souped-up whip."

"You can't remember anything else about him?"

"I tried to put that shit outta my mind, to be honest with you. I already told you everything I remember, man." Detective Palmeri slid his notepad across the table toward Ace. "I'm gonna need you to write down the real names of everyone involved."

"I never found out CyberKing's real name, but I can tell you anything you wanna know about Candy Apple." Ace picked up the pen. "Will I get immunity?"

"I doubt that. You're not innocent by any stretch, but if you help me, I'll try my best to help you."

#### * * *

Detective Palmeri then stopped the video and looked at me. "I realize that wasn't easy for you to watch, but I wanted you to see it, because I consider you a friend. I know Candy Apple's real name is LaNaya Lewis, and I know she's your sister."

I couldn't believe what I'd just seen. I thought back to her mentioning that she'd made $5,000 in one night. I remembered when she'd come to Mama's house to celebrate my birthday, when that new Mercedes Benz was parked in the driveway. I remembered her telling me she was working for a webcam operation. It was sad and terrifying to think that my sister would drive around in a dead man's car, but I knew she wasn't capable of murder. I pleaded, "He's lying to save his ass from prison! LaNaya would never kill anybody. He probably shot that man!"

"This is an ongoing investigation, Kai, but if I can corroborate his story, she'll be facing criminal charges."

"Detective Palmeri, you have to understand. My sister... I know she's no saint, but she wouldn't do this."

"Have you see her driving a Mercedes or Lexus recently, maybe one she just recently acquired?"

"No," I said, but I was in shock, so my lie didn't sound very convincing at all.

"LaNaya's actions make her guilty of second-degree murder. If you love your sister, you should call her right now and tell her to turn herself in. If she tells her side and everything adds up, I'm sure the prosecutor will be lenient. With a plea bargain, she won't even have to do much time."

I started to cry. "But you don't understand, Detective. She has two children. She can't go to prison!"

"I sympathize with your situation, but things will be even worse for your sister if she doesn't do the right thing and turn herself in. There's a warrant out for her arrest."

## CHAPTER 21

Sitting in my car in the parking lot of the police station, I nervously called LaNaya several times, but the calls went straight to voicemail. I left her six or seven messages, each more frantic than the last. I sent her a text message that read: _"Please call me ASAP!"_ Then I called Ace, but I only got the annoying three-toned beep and a message by an automated operator, telling me the number had been disconnected.

Back at work, my mind replayed the detective's words: "second-degree murder...turn herself in..." Despite all the grimy shit LaNaya had done in her life, I refused to believe that she was guilty of something so heinous. I was also pained by the fact that Ace had implicated her. The man I'd trusted with my virginity years ago, the same man I'd strongly considered inviting into my bedroom just a few weeks prior, could be responsible for putting my sister behind bars.

Frank approached my desk. He was wearing a green Armani suit and his seductive cologne. "Madison told me the good news. Congratulations on your engagement. I hope Deandre realizes he's got an extraordinary woman, and... Hey," he said, pausing to look at me closely. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and kept staring at the blank page on my computer screen. I was supposed to be writing voiceover copy for a special news report, but I was too distracted to be productive. "Nothing," I said flatly.

"I know you better than that, Kai. Talk to me." He placed his hands on my shoulders and rubbed them gently. Frank had gifted fingers; if he hadn't gone into journalism, he would've thrived at massage therapy.

My first mind was to tell him to stop, but his touch felt good after the stressful ordeal I'd just experienced at police headquarters that I was practically putty in his hands. Even though there were dozens of people around, I felt like we were all alone at that moment. Only the sight of my glistening engagement ring inspired me to pull away from his soothing massage. I knew it wasn't fair to Deandre for me to get close to Frank. In the near future, I would be a married woman, and any physical contact with him would be out of the question. Our shared history would never vanish, but from that point on, I had to be 100 percent committed to Deandre. Still, there was a small part of me that was going to miss my connection with Frank.

He knelt down and whispered in my ear. "What's on your mind?"

"Just trying to make my deadline," I said as I looked up at him.

"Does he make you happy?"

I nodded.

"Sometimes I wonder...never mind. I've gotta get back to some deadlines of my own. I just wanted to personally congratulate you. And in case you're wondering, you can invite me to the wedding. In fact, I'd be hurt if you didn't. I promise not to make a scene."

I smiled. "Thanks."

As Frank walked away, memories popped into my head: the joy of falling in love with him seven years ago, the anger of finding out about Tisha, the pain of losing my first and only child, the genuine affection he'd shown me after my miscarriage, the disappointment of being only his mistress, and the wild night when Tisha had shown her true colors and I realized just how unhappy Frank really was in his marriage.

I did love Deandre, but it wasn't the deep, complicated love I'd felt for Frank. In time, I hoped those feelings would evolve and that we would be a cute old couple, holding hands on a porch swing and sipping iced tea spiked with Hennessy Privilege. I felt guilty for comparing the two men. After all, Deandre had given me something Frank never had: a real commitment. I looked down at my ring and smiled, assured that I was making the right decision.

#### * * *

A few hours later, I unlocked the door to my apartment and changed out of my business suit and into a pair of jeans and a Pistons jersey. I had plans to see Deandre play the Lakers at the Palace. I wasn't in the mood to go to the game, but I still wanted to support my future husband.

I sat in the stands, drinking beer and wishing for something much stronger. It was agonizing to watch the Lakers slaughter the Pistons. Deandre only got a few minutes of court time toward the end of the fourth quarter, and he missed both of the shots he aimed for. The final score was 98-71; it was the worst game of Detroit's season.

Later that night, when we got back to Deandre's house, he said, "I'm sorry you had to see that. I was so off tonight. Maybe it's because of what you put on me last night."

"If it makes you feel any better, I had a shitty day too," I said.

He frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"My sister's in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Legal trouble. She might end up doing time."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I thought your sister was good people. I wish there was something I could do to help."

I smiled. "Do you know any good defense attorneys?"

"I can't say I do. I've never been caught up in the system like that."

"That's a good thing."

"I know something that might cheer us both up though."

"What's that?"

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body close to his, so I could feel his erection. He kissed my neck. "It's got your name on it, Reese's."

I pushed him away. "Hold on, Deandre. We need to talk about something first."

He frowned. "What is it?"

"When can I meet Corey?"

"Well, uh...actually, that was gonna be one of my Christmas surprises for you. I plan to take you home next week to meet him my whole family."

I smiled. "Really? Wow!"

He took my hand. "You're gonna be my wife, so that's a given."

"Have you talked to Corey about me?"

"He knows his daddy has a girlfriend, but I haven't talked to him about us being engaged. I think it would hurt him if he figures out that I'm marrying somebody besides his mama, but when he meets you and sees how cool you are, I think it'll be easier for me to break the news."

I kissed him and said, "You make me so happy, baby!"

He picked me up off my feet and carried me upstairs to his bedroom. He tossed me on the bed, and we made love like lions in the African wild. It was so intense that I had a double-orgasm from him stroking my clit with his finger and stroking my G-spot with his dick at the same time. I'd never experienced that before, and the sensation made my pussy feel reborn. After it was over, I fell asleep in his strong arms.

#### * * *

Just before three o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by the sound of a vibrating cell phone. I looked over at the nightstand and saw Deandre's iPhone next to mine. Both of them had silent, black screens. I glanced at Deandre, and he was snoring softly. I slowly climbed out of bed and tiptoed across his carpeted floor, following the sound of his secret cell phone to his closet. I opened the door quietly and located it inside of his gym bag, sandwiched between a headband and a pair of socks.

Janice's name and picture were flashing on the screen. She was a pretty, dark-skinned woman with wavy hair and almond-shaped eyes. Her bright smile looked like the stuff of Colgate commercials.

In one quick motion, I grabbed the phone, ran into the bathroom, and closed the door behind me. I thought about answering the call, but I decided to wait for her to leave a voicemail instead.

Seconds later, I played the message: "Hey Dre, listen to who woke me up..."

I heard the sound of a baby crying in the background.

"Hey, Mackenzie, say 'We miss you, Daddy!' This girl is getting bigger every day. I know she's gonna be tall, like you. I watched the game tonight. Don't worry, you'll do better next time. Kobe ain't all that. Corey and Justin keep asking me about you. All I hear is, 'When is Daddy coming home?' I can't wait to have you here for the holidays. Anyway, I guess you're asleep. I love you, babe. "

Tears streaked down my face at the realization that Deandre had lied to me about everything. Janice was not the mother of one of his children, but three! I sobbed even harder when I looked through the photo gallery on his phone and saw the faces of seven other children who shared his dark eyes and dimpled smile. Based on their light skin tones and wavy hair, I assumed their mothers were different ethnicities, but there was no denying that Deandre, my fiancé, had fathered them all.

I felt like the biggest fool on the planet. As a reporter, my livelihood depended on my ability to find reliable sources and fact-check everything, but I had neglected to see the truth about the man I thought I was destined to marry. As it turned out, that overweight receptionist at the police station knew more about Deandre than I did. In shock and overcome with anger and heartbreak, I dropped the phone, and it skittered across the floor.

Deandre called out to me from the bedroom, "Reese's? Are you okay?"

I opened the bathroom door and screamed, "Did you ever love me at all?"

He sat up in bed. "Of course I love you."

I wiped my eyes. "For once, can you stop lying to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I found your other cell phone! When were you going to tell me Corey has ten siblings!?"

He took a deep breath. "Look, Kai, I've only got six kids, three from Janice and three from other chicks I messed around with back in the day. That's the truth. I'm still waiting on the paternity results for the other ones."

"This shit is unbelievable! Are you still in a relationship with Janice?"

"I, um...we—"

"Does Corey even have sickle cell?"

"No, but Justin does."

"What kind of monster lies about something like that?"

"My family life was none of your business anyway."

"So what was I to you? Some chick you could fuck whenever and however you wanted? If you just wanted a sexual relationship, I woulda been fine with that. Why'd you go to all this trouble to make me think it's something else? Meeting my family, telling me you love me, fucking proposing to me? I just don't get it!"

"You want the truth? Here it is. I can get any chick I set my sights on, Kai, but cheerleaders and groupies don't exactly do it for me. I get off turning out career women. You were a real good piece of ass when we first hooked up on the casual tip, but after I told you I love you, you took the sex to another level. Your pussy got wetter, and your head game was off the charts. You fucked me better than a porn star...and believe me when I say I'm speaking from a whole lot of experience."

"You're so fucking pathetic!" I slipped his engagement ring off of my finger and threw it on the floor.

"You might as well keep it. The shit ain't real anyway. I keep a drawer full of 'em."

"Asshole! All I ever I wanted from you was love. You're heartless for pretending to love me. What kind of man does something like that?"

"Don't be so mad about it, baby. Part of you had to know I was too good to be true—too good for you."

I looked down at the two-carat, princess-cut cubic zirconia and thought about burning his house down like Left Eye did to Andre Rison's, but Deandre wasn't worth me doing a bid for arson. In fact, I knew he wasn't worth a damn thing, and I was furious at myself for being a fool.

Deandre's declarations of love and his fairytale proposal had suspended my sense of reality, but those cruel revelations allowed me to see the selfish man he really was. I felt emotionally bruised, but a bigger part of me was relieved to know the truth. Something had always felt a little off about Deandre, and right then and there, staring at that fake man and his fake ring, I promised myself that I would never, ever ignore my inner voice again.

## CHAPTER 22

From behind a thick sheet of glass, Mama and I watched the prison guard escort LaNaya to the seat across from us. Tears formed in my eyes at the sight of my sister in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs. Her short, kinky hair was wild and matted. I barely recognized her without her fake eyelashes and Mac foundation.

I couldn't even remember the last time I'd seen her without makeup. LaNaya's bare skin was smooth, with the exception of a cigarette burn on her jaw; the facial scar was the result of an altercation with Javon years ago. She had cuts on her limbs from his knife attacks and a bruise on the side of her stomach from when he pushed her down the stairs during her second pregnancy.

The men in my life had put me through a lot, but I thanked God that I'd never had to live through the horror of domestic abuse. I understood nothing about the hell LaNaya had experienced. I thought back to all the times I'd gone to see her in the hospital after she'd fallen victim to Javon's rage. She would look at me with two black eyes and muster just enough strength to defend him, saying it wasn't as bad as it looked. Today, though, there was no denying that things were even worse than they appeared.

When she sat down, Mama reached out for her through the glass and hollered, "Mercy!"

LaNaya frowned and picked up the receiver.

I picked up the other receiver and held it between Mama and myself.

Mama was crying even harder than me. She said, "My precious baby..."

"Don't cry, Mama," LaNaya said, blinking hard to hold back her own tears.

"I've been praying every night for you. We're gonna get you outta here. Jesus will see us through this."

"Does Jesus have my bail money?"

"I'm trying to see about getting another mortgage on the house, and—"

"You shouldn't have to do that, Mama." LaNaya looked at me. "I know you've got it! How you gonna sit there and let Mama mortgage her house?"

"I don't have $100,000 lying around, LaNaya," I said.

"Bitch, please. You got it, and even if you ain't, you could borrow it from Frank. I know that nigga's paid."

"Don't use that language in front of Mama!"

"Sorry, Mama. That was wrong of me. I'm just frustrated as hell right now. I shouldn't be in here. I didn't kill nobody! You gotta believe me!"

"Honey, I know you would never do anything like that, not for nothing in this world," Mama said.

"What we need to focus on right now is finding you a good attorney," I said.

"And posting my bail!"

"The retainer fee is going to cost thousands."

"Are you tellin' me I gotta spend Christmas up in here? I ain't never spent Christmas without my kids."

"Maybe we could, uh...bring Cher-Cher and Li'l JJ here," Mama suggested. "I realize it's not the best of circumstances, but at least we'd all be together as a family on Christmas day."

LaNaya shook her head. "No. I can't let them see me like this." She cried the tears she'd been holding back. "I couldn't imagine seeing them and not being able to hug them and kiss them. That would hurt me more than anything in the world."

Mama lifted her head to Heaven. "Lord, give me strength!"

Snot ran down LaNaya's nose as she sobbed. "Mama, I swear on my life that I didn't kill nobody! My only mistake was being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I know, honey."

"We know you didn't do it, LaNaya, but if the jury sees that video of Ace—"

"What?"

"I saw his police interview."

"He said _I_ did it? That motherfucka is unbelievable!"

The guard announced that visiting time was over.

"I can only imagine how rough it is in there for you, but hang in there," I said. "We're gonna find you a good attorney and get you out as soon as possible."

LaNaya smiled through her tears. "You'd better. Don't let me turn into a prison wife."

"Hush that talk!" Mama said, cringing.

"I'm just kidding, Mama. Big Bertha ain't got to me yet."

We exchanged I-love-you's as the guard escorted her away.

#### * * *

Slushy snow fell on windshield as I drove Mama back home. For most of the ride, she prayed quietly. I hadn't seen her like that since my father had passed away two decades ago. Even though LaNaya was physically behind bars, Mama was emotionally imprisoned.

When I turned onto her street, she looked at me and asked, "What do think is gonna happen to her?"

"Hopefully, she'll be out soon, and—"

"Don't tell me what I wanna hear, baby. Tell me what you honestly think."

"With the help of a good attorney—"

"Even the best lawyers in the world can't guarantee nothing."

"So far, the whole case is circumstantial, based on the eyewitness account of a convict. Any competent jury will question that."

"I'm not gonna live forever."

"What are you talking about?"

"There is a chance LaNaya might end up in prison for a long time. I might be in the grave before my baby gets out."

"Please stop being so morbid, Mama."

"If something happens to me, how would you feel about raising the kids? I know that's what LaNaya would want. It's what I would want."

I felt tears coming on. I didn't want to think about Mama passing away. I knew it was going to happen eventually, but it was still a painful thought.

"You've got what it takes to be a really good mother," she said. "You've got a heart as big as Lake Michigan, and those kids love you to pieces. Cher-Cher wants to be just like you when she grows up."

"Mama, I—"

"I want you to think about it. I know you've got a career and everything, but you should never lose sight of the Lord's most precious gift, family. Ours may not be perfect, but it's always been full of love."

Tears streaked my face as I said, "I promise to do everything in my power to get custody of the kids if something happens to you, but we aren't gonna have to worry about that for a long, long time. Jesus can't have you yet, Mama."

"I love you, honey," she said, "and I'm not trying to scare you. Lord knows I plan to be here for a long, long time. I only want what's best for this family. I only brought it up...just in case. And I meant everything I said about you being a good mother one day."

"Well, if that day ever does come, it won't be with Deandre."

"I know you're still hurting, but don't dwell on it. You're still young, and there are plenty of fish in the sea. If you want, we can hit a singles' night together. I hear Flood's has a two-for-one drink special."

I chuckled.

"Seriously, don't give up on love, Kai. Too many women make that mistake. To be honest, that's what happened to me after your father died. I carried that grief around for years. I missed out on a chance to be with a wonderful man because I was too afraid."

"What were you afraid of?"

"I was afraid of losing him like I lost your father, but if I could go back in time, I'd choose love over fear."

"Mama, I never knew—"

"I realize I haven't discussed this before. I guess the only reason I'm talking about it now is because I don't want to see you repeat my mistake. It means a lot to me that you promised to take care of the kids, but I want you to promise me something else."

"What's that, Mama?"

"Promise not to give up on finding true love."

"Mama, I can't promise you that. I-I can't even think about love right now."

"Giving up on love is the easiest thing in the world to do, but it takes a lot of courage to love again after you've been hurt."

"All I can promise is that one day, I might try."

"Fair enough." She smiled and extended her arms toward me. "Give Mama a hug, honey."

I wrapped my arms around her. "I love you, Mama."

"I love you too! So...when are we going to Flood's? You know I still got some moves on the dance floor. I can do a mean electric slide!"

I laughed. "Oh, Mama!"

## CHAPTER 23

Alcohol was abundant at the Channel 5 Christmas party, making it an all-more-festive occasion. I sipped on my third Chardonnay as I chatted with Sam and his wife, a petite brunette with a funny laugh, who shared his obsession with _Star Wars_ films. As they recited quotes from the wise Jedi, the wine buzz went to my head. As much fun as I was having, I also felt like everybody's third wheel. As I looked around the room, I realized that all of my co-workers were there with a significant other. Even Madison had brought a date, a young police cadet who favored Bow Wow.

After my ugly breakup with Deandre and my depressing visit to see LaNaya behind bars, I wasn't feeling an ounce of holiday cheer. I thought about staying home, but I knew it was important for me to network with the station producers: One of them might hold the key to my next big story, and, considering that everything else had seemingly fallen apart in my life, my career was even more important to me. Plus, the party was an excuse to get my hair done and show off my badass red Donna Karan dress and Versace shoes. Usually, I felt better when I looked better, but at that soiree, my glamorous appearance and inner sadness were painfully mismatched; in fact, they clashed something awful.

I swallowed the last sip of wine from my glass and picked up my purse. I offered Sam and his pretty wife a quick, "Goodnight," and an early, "Happy New Year," then made my way to the coat rack.

Just as I pulled my coat from the hanger, Frank walked in. He smiled and asked, "Are you taking off already?"

"Yeah. Merry Christmas."

He touched my arm. "Stay and have a drink with me."

"You should have a drink with your wife."

"She's not here."

"Well, the answer is still no." I put on my coat and walked to the elevator.

Frank stepped into the elevator with me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.

"I've got something to tell you," he said.

When the elevator stopped on the garage level, I got out, but he continued to follow me. I turned and spat over my shoulder, "I'm going home, Frank."

"It's done, Kai. It's official. Tisha and I are getting a divorce."

"You don't have to lie to me. In fact, I'm gonna scream if I have to listen to another batch of your bullshit, Frank."

He took a few more steps in my direction, till we were standing only inches apart. As he looked into my eyes, I saw the man I'd never really stopped loving. "What do I have to do to prove it, Kai? I want to be with you. I love you so much, and if you give me a chance to be the man I should've been years ago, I promise I'll make it all up to you. If you tell me no, I'll just have to keep on doing whatever it takes to change your mind," he said.

"I can't go there again with you, Frank. I won't."

"Why? Because of this Deandre?" He looked down at my hand. "Why aren't you wearing that fancy ring he bought you?"

I looked away from him, and a tear slid down my cheek.

He lifted my chin up. "Look, whatever happened...well, it happened for a reason. This is our chance to finally be together, baby. For real this time."

I shook my head. "It's not that simple. If you're serious about getting a divorce, then we can wait until after it's final."

"That won't be easy, but if that what's you want."

"I won't allow myself to be hurt again, and my heart needs time."

He kissed my cheek. "I love you, Kai. I hate myself for ever hurting you. I was a fool, and it won't happen again, but I'll let my actions speak for me."

I ignored the fact that Deandre had said those exact same words once. "Good."

"Do you still love me?"

"Like I said, we can discuss it after your divorce is final."

"That's fair. Can I at least get a hug?"

"Sure."

As I wrapped my arms around Frank, I realized that being close to him felt like home. Deandre had done some foul shit to me, but even before that, my love for him had only been a fraction of what I'd felt for Frank all along. Deep down inside, I knew Frank was the one for me; he always had been. But this time, I wasn't going to be a fool. I promised myself not to be intimate with him again until his marriage with Tisha was truly over—real divorce papers signed, sealed, and delivered.

#### * * *

The next night, I heard the buzzer on my door intercom. LaNaya was my only midnight visitor, and considering that she was still locked up, I knew it wasn't her. When I pressed the intercom, I heard Frank's voice: "It's me!"

"You can't just come here unannounced," I snapped.

"So you're gonna leave a brotha out here? C'mon! Baby, it's cold outside!"

"Fine. I'll let you come up, but don't get the wrong idea," I said as I pressed the button to allow him entry.

Seconds later, he knocked on my door.

When I looked through the peephole, I was shocked to see that he had three suitcases in tow. I opened the door and asked, "Are you moving in?"

"If it's okay with you, I'd, uh...can I stay here till I can move into my own place? I put a deposit on an apartment, but it won't be ready for two weeks."

"No offense, but you should probably check into a hotel or something. I don't think it would be a good idea for you to stay here. I still mean what I said about—"

"On second thought, maybe you're right. I mean, I could find a hotel, but I'd rather be here with you. I promise I won't try anything, Kai. I just need a place to lay my head."

I smiled as let him in. "Gimme a minute to set up the guestroom."

"Why? You don't think you can keep your hands to yourself if I lie next to you?"

"Please! Frank, you promised!"

"That's okay. Go ahead and put me in the guestroom. I'm not gonna let you violate me, girl! My mama raised me better than that."

I laughed as I grabbed some clean sheets from my linen closet.

That night, when I went to bed, I thought about Frank, sleeping in the bedroom right next to mine. I was unable to sleep as I remembered our epic sexcapades, so I was thankful that he was only going to be in my apartment for thirteen more days. I feared that if he stayed any longer, I'd give in and break the promise I'd made to myself about not having sex with him until his divorce was final. And, once I opened the floodgates and broke that promise, I was sure I'd break it over and over again—and in every conceivable position.

#### * * *

Since Frank and I were on vacation, we spent a lot of time together, enjoying carryout and Netflix movies. He looked even sexier lounging around my apartment in his casual sweats than he did in his designer suits. Don't get me wrong: I loved to see Frank all dressed up, but there was something very endearing about seeing him relaxed.

Frank knew me so well that he could finish my sentences. On top of that, he made me laugh. As the days passed, I found myself more and more drawn to him. I also liked the fact that he didn't seem to be hiding anything from me this time. When Tisha called, he answered the phone while I was in the room. Sometimes their conversations got heated, which was to be expected in any breakup, but I heard him tell her several times that he was with me and that he planned to stay there.

I also heard him scheduling an appointment with high-profile divorce attorney. In the past, Frank had only gone through the motions of leaving Tisha so he could keep me on the side, even creating those fake separation papers to trick me. This time, it was clear that he was serious about ending his marriage.

#### * * *

On the night of Christmas Eve, heavy snow fell outside my window. Frank and I sat on my couch. He massaged my feet and asked me what happened had happened with Deandre. After I told him, he said, "I hate that he hurt you, but I'm not sorry it happened. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here with you right now."

I asked him why he stayed with Tisha for so long, if he wanted to be with me so bad.

"It had nothing to do with love. Tisha is a chronic cheater, and she likes women as much as I do. She was always down for a threesome, and that shit turned me on. It's sad for me to admit it now, but that was one of the reasons I married her.

"But she went from sexually adventurous to skank when she started fucking all these random people. She had men _and_ women on the side. After we had kids, I thought she'd slow down, but instead, her one-night stands were outta control, to the point where I didn't wanna touch her anymore. We even slept in separate rooms, but we kept up a solid front for the boys.

"Around that time, I tried to get back with you, but when I messed that up, I figured I was stuck with Tisha. We went to marriage counseling, and the psychologist encouraged me to indulge her fantasies to help heal our relationship. On that crazy night when we hung out in Atlanta, I didn't mean to put you in that position, but Tisha put this guilt trip on me and...well, I know that's still no excuse. What I did was so wrong, and I'm sorry. I later found out that she was sleeping with the psychologist, too, but that's not the point.

"I'm glad you didn't go along with it, because I want you all to myself. I want to give you all of me. I've matured enough to know that having the right woman is better than having many of the wrong ones. I've always loved you, Kai. I've always known that you're the one for me. I'm sorry it took all of this for me to get here, but now that I'm here, I ain't going nowhere." Then he leaned closer to me and kissed my lips tenderly.

I wanted him so bad. He stroked my face gently and worked his hand downward, to my neck and my left breast. I pushed his hand away. "I love you, Frank, but we can't... I'm sorry. Just...not yet." I stood up and sprinted to my bedroom and closed the door behind me.

I was so horny that I considered using my vibrator, but I decided against it because I knew he would hear that distinctive buzzing noise and realize I was indulging in a round of battery-operated self-pleasure. I tossed and turned in my bed and stuffed a pillow between my legs. I fondled my breasts, imaging that his hands were touching me and not my own. I let out a sexy sigh and quickly covered my mouth.

Soon, I heard Frank's footsteps approaching my bedroom door. He knocked and asked, "Are you okay in there?"

"Mmm-hmm," I said.

"What's that?"

"I said I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Can I come in?"

I closed my eyes and pictured him inside of me.

"Kai?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you hear me?"

"You, uh...you can't. No, Frank."

"You sure about that?"

"No. I mean, uh...yeah...no..."

Frank opened the door and he walked toward me with a wide smile. He removed the pillow from between my legs and climbed on top of me, till I could feel his throbbing erection between my moist thighs. We shared a kiss so erotic that I thought was going to cum right then and there, before he even took his boxers off.

I pulled away. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

"You sure?" He kissed me again.

"Frank, I..."

He slipped his hands under my t-shirt and caressed my breasts. He whispered in my ear, "I need you, baby." He pulled my sweatpants off, then pushed my thong aside and slid his middle finger into my soaking wet pussy. Frank curved his finger slightly and stimulated my G-spot.

My legs shook, and I let out a loud moan. As nice as it felt to be touched by him, I lusted for much more. I pulled his dick out through the slit in his boxers. Seconds later, he was deep inside of me. As he moved in and out of me, I screamed Mariah Carey high notes. The pleasure was so intense that I felt tears coming on. I looked into his eyes as I climaxed. As my pussy walls tightened around his dick, I felt him explode inside of me.

He stroked my face. "I love you, Kai. I always have, always will."

"I love you too," I said, feeling an indescribable glow inside.

At dawn, yellow sunlight illuminated his handsome face.

"Merry Christmas," I said, kissing his cheek.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "This might be my best Christmas ever. You're the gift I've been wanting for a long time."

## CHAPTER 24

Outside, the frigid February weather blanketed the city with ice and snow. I stood under the fluorescent lights in Dr. Wilson's office, dressed only in a backless, disposable, thin hospital gown. Goosebumps covered my bare arms as I took it off and threw it in the wastebasket. I put on my bra and panties and slipped my wool sweater over my head, then zipped up my jeans and sat on the examination table.

My heartbeat doubled as I looked at a poster of women of various ethnicities and ages, captioned: "One in seventy-two women will contract ovarian cancer. Listen to your body and get tested!" Right next to that was another poster with a picture of a young black couple: "Stop the HIV epidemic in our community. STRAP UP!" I prayed I hadn't been infected with some kind of fatal disease, but I knew something was wrong with me. For the past few weeks, I'd been suffering from severe fatigue, urinating nonstop. Based on my own Internet research, that panic-inducing, self-diagnosis that is never recommended, I'd concluded that I probably had the beginning stages of Type 2 diabetes. Considering that my mother had it and my grandmother had passed away from it, I was sure it would attack me someday. I just didn't expect to receive such a grim prognosis at the ripe old age of thirty-freaking-three.

A knock came at the door, and Dr. Wilson's voice asked, "Kai, is okay for me to come in now?"

"Yeah," I said.

Dr. Wilson opened the door. She was a petite, brown-skinned woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair. She'd been my gynecologist since I'd had my miscarriage all those years ago, so even though I'd been leery of hospitals and people with lab coats and stethoscopes long before that tragic experience, I trusted Dr. Wilson. She always asked plenty of questions, let me ask as many as I wanted, and made me feel like I was in control of my own health. Too many other doctors I'd met, particularly the male ones, liked to think they were experts on every damn thing.

"So...how's my favorite reporter?" Dr. Wilson asked.

"Not so good, to be honest, Doc," I explained. "Is it diabetes?" I asked, cutting right to the chase. "Please don't tell me I have to start insulin. I can't imagine sticking myself with a needle. Aren't there pills I can take?"

She laughed and shook her head. "WebMD, huh? No, it's not diabetes."

"Oh my God! Don't tell me I've got... Look, I know you told me to always used a condom, but I've slipped up a few times. Actually, more than a few times, so—"

"That's quite obvious."

I frowned. "Oh God! Is it curable?"

"You don't have to worry about that, Kai. Your blood and urine tests came back clean, so that rules out any STDs."

"Thank God!"

"But still, it is very important to use protection, especially if you are not in a monogamous relationship."

"Yes, I know that, Dr. Wilson. My boyfriend and I have been exclusive for two months," I said, reflecting on just how serious my relationship with Frank had become. Instead of moving into his new apartment, he'd asked to move in with me. Every morning, we went to work together, and every night, we got down to business in the bedroom. On the weekends, we spent time with his sons. Just the previous Saturday, we'd taken Frank Jr. and Winston to see the newest Disney 3D animated movie, and Cher-Cher and Li'l JJ went along as well. As the six of us sat in the dark theater, eating buttered popcorn and sugary candy, I felt warm inside, enjoying the glow of family and love.

Dr. Wilson looked down at her chart and grinned. "Kai, I have some important news."

"What is it?" I asked, taking a deep breath, not sure if I was ready to hear the answer.

"You're pregnant."

I smiled. "I'm what? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"I thought I wouldn't be able to—"

"Based on your medical history, I understand how surprised you must be."

"Dr. Wilson, I'm so, so happy—too happy for words—but...well, I'm afraid too. I mean, what are the chances that, uh....will I have another miscarriage?"

"I realize that experience was extremely difficult for you, but let's put things in perspective. That happened six years ago, Kai. Since then, there have been several significant scientific advances to help women who suffer from fibroids. There is no reason why you shouldn't be able to carry a healthy baby to term."

A tear slid down my cheek. "I want this child more than anything in the world. After all I've been through, I'd given up on ever having my own baby."

"The months will zip by quicker than you think, and after the baby is born, things will go even faster. I was around your age when I had my oldest daughter. Now, she's filling out college applications and picking out prom dresses."

"Dr. Wilson, I-I want to ask you something, but it's...well, it's sort of a sensitive question."

"Everything you tell me is completely confidential. You have my word, and I'm legally bound by patient/doctor confidentiality anyway. What is it?"

"I know, it's just that I'm kind of embarrassed about the situation, and I was hoping maybe you could shed some light."

"Go ahead, Kai."

"I don't really know how to say this." I paused. "I-I'm not exactly sure who the father is. Is it possible for me to find out before the baby is born?"

"Let me begin by saying you have no reason to feel embarrassed. This is a common dilemma faced by women in all walks of life. Now, to answer your question, there is a prenatal DNA test available, but such a procedure is a bit invasive and may pose a risk to the fetus. I would suggest that you wait until after the baby is born."

"Of course. I wouldn't wanna do anything to harm my child." I patted my belly.

"It's completely up to you, but I would advise that you talk to your partner about it. He might be more understanding than you expect."

I shook my head. "Boy, that's gonna be an awkward conversation. He was the father of my first child, and I really hope it's him. Lord knows I don't want it to be my ex's baby."

"Try not to concern yourself with that right now. Focus on that little bundle of joy. I know you're going to be a great mother."

"Thanks, Dr. Wilson. I'm so excited!"

"I'm going to prescribe some prenatal vitamins. You also need to make sure you get plenty of folic acid in your diet. Greens, lentils, and sunflower seeds are excellent sources."

I smiled. "That won't be a problem. I can always get down with a good pot of greens!"

The doctor smiled. "Congratulations, Kai. I'll schedule a follow-up appointment for next month. We should be able to hear the baby's heartbeat at that time."

"Really?"

She nodded.

"Wow! That's so amazing!"

#### * * *

A few minutes later, I was sitting in my car, saying a special prayer, thanking God for the gift of life growing inside of me. I looked down at my belly and said, "Whether your father is Frank or Deandre, it doesn't matter. I'm your mama, and I'm gonna do everything in my power to take care of you. I promise to give you a good life, with plenty of love and all the support you need to realize your dreams.

"I can't wait pick out all of your cute little outfits and paint your room and decorate your nursery. I can't wait to hold you in my arms and kiss your forehead. I can't wait to hear your little cries and laughs and see your smile. Believe it or not, I can't even wait to wake up in the middle of the night to change your stinky diaper. You are the blessing I have waited my whole life for, and I promise to be the best mother I can for you. I love you so much already, and I haven't even met you yet!"

I unzipped my purse and pulled out my phone. I called Frank, but the call went straight to voicemail, so I assumed he was getting ready to go on the air. At the sound of the beep, I said, "Baby, I just left the doctor's office, and everything is fine. I don't have diabetes or anything like that. There's just...something else I want to share with you, but I want to tell you face to face. I can't wait to see you tonight. I love you!"

After I hung up, I didn't even consider calling Deandre. I had deleted that fool's number the night he'd shown his ass. I wanted nothing to do with him, even if he was my baby's father. "Sperm donor" would be more like it. What's the point of trying to include him in my child's life after the way he disrespected me? On top of that, my poor baby would have eleven siblings and counting, my mind raged.

I turned on the radio and heard Mary J. Blige belting out the lyrics to "Fine." I turned up the volume and sang along with her as I drove home, albeit a little more off key than she was: _"I'm a lady, so I must stay classy. Gotta keep it hot, keep it together if I wanna get better. See, I wouldn't change my life...My life's just fine!"_

The music was interrupted by an incoming call. I pressed the button on my steering wheel to activate the Bluetooth calling feature and was greeted by a computerized voice: "You have an incoming call collect from the Wayne County Jail. Press one to accept this call."

While I had been caught up in the joy of my surprise pregnancy, I did feel guilty about LaNaya suffering behind bars, so I was anxious to hear my sister's voice and to tell her that I loved her. "I'll accept," I told the operator. When the phone clicked over, I said, "LaNaya?"

Silence.

"LaNaya? Are you there?"

More silence.

"Sis, I can't hear you. Please call me back if you can."

Finally, a man's voice said, "Do yourself a favor, baby girl. Watch your back, 'cause I guarantee the streets are watching you."

Click.

When he hung up the phone, my heart began beating viciously against my ribs inside my chest. I knew it was Ace, even though he'd tried to disguise his voice. Instinctively, I looked around me, wondering if I really was being followed.

##### Now Available:

#### The Motor City Drama Series continues with...

#### OFF CAMERA AFFAIR 2

#### Please email **JazzJordanWrites@gmail.com** to get a free expended excerpt of the _Off Camera Affair 2._ Please visit JazzJordanWrites.com for updates on when the next books in the series are available. Thank you for reading : )

