A Private Affair (26 page)

She heard an engine cut off and ran to the window.

“Here he comes. Thank goodness.” She knew she couldn't hold on to this until tomorrow.

Quinn trotted up the steps, making just enough noise to let Mrs. Finch know he was home.

Nikita practically leaped into his arms as soon as he opened the door.

He started laughing. “What's with you, Little Bit?”

“I have something exciting to tell you.”

“Must be the day for good news. Let's hear yours.” He took off his bold orange fleece Chicago Bulls warm-up jacket and tossed it across the couch. Before he got a chance to sit down, she launched into her story.

“So the deal is, the magazine business can be yours if you can come up with a hundred grand?”

“Exactly.” She let out a breath, stopped her pacing and plopped down on the couch beside him.

“So…How you gonna get it?”

“That's just it,” she hedged. “I don't know.”

Quinn stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He had a few thousand stashed away. He'd been ready to use it to help Maxine. But she hadn't needed it. She'd figured it out on her own. Nick had said there'd be some loot involved with this music deal. He could probably throw in part of that.

“Quinn!” She nudged him in the rib with her elbow. “Don't you dare go to sleep on me.”

He slowly opened his eyes. “I ain't sleepin', just thinkin'. How soon you need this money?”

Her heart started to beat faster. “The end of the year, if not sooner.”

He stood up. “I could probably lend you some of it. The rest you gonna have to figure out yourself. I got some of it, and since Nick offered to buy my recording, I'll be gettin' some more.”

Her eyes widened and she let out an earsplitting screech. She jumped up straight into his arms, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

“I knew it would happen! I knew it, knew it, knew it,” she babbled, planting kisses all over his face.

Quinn was laughing so hard he almost dropped her. “Woman, you goin' crazy, or what?”

“Yes. Crazy about you, baby.” Her eyes softened. “I knew you could do it, Quinn. All those months of hard work paid off. There's no telling where this could take you.”

“Things ain't gonna change that much. I'm still the same person.”

She gave him a big kiss on the lips. “Of course things are going to change, silly—for the better. You'll see. Success changes everyone.”

It's Just So Hard

“M
ax, we need to talk,” Dre said, sitting on the edge of her bed.

Maxine stretched her long, nude body and curled on her side. “About what?” she mumbled, totally satiated from their hours-plus of much needed sex.

“About us, Max.”

Uh-oh.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a hot minute, took a breath and sat up, pulling the floral-pattern sheet up to cover her apple-sized breasts.

“I'm listening.”

He turned, angling his body to face her. “You've been wearing that ring for six months, Max. And every time I mention setting a date, you go into your bag of excuses, why ‘now is not a good time to discuss it.' Now. Tonight is the time, Max. I get the feeling that marrying me is not really what you want to do.”

Her throat tightened when she looked into that Michael Jordan look-alike face. He loved her. Really loved her. And as much as she'd tried, she didn't feel the same way.

“Dre, I—”

He held up his hand. “Don't. Don't give me a long story and try to save my feelings. Just answer me in one simple word, Max. Do you want to marry me, yes or no?”

She drew her knees up to her chest and lowered her head. “No,” she mumbled into the softness of the cotton sheets.

Dre filled his lungs with much needed air, nodded his head and stood. “That's all you had to say, baby.”

She watched him through tear-filled eyes as he kept his back to her while getting dressed.

Finally he turned around and looked down at her. He reached out his right hand and caressed her damp cheek. “It was good, Maxine Sherman. You were good for me. I'll always remember that. But your heart was never really all there for me. I thought I could make you love me the way I love you. But that's a hard thing when your woman's heart is with someone else.”

“Dre—”

He shook his head. “I always knew. I saw it in your eyes and it scared the hell outta me. But I figured once we were married you'd forget.” He straightened. “That'll never happen, Max, until you deal with how you really feel.”

He picked up his nylon windbreaker from the back of a kitchen chair that she'd pulled into the room. “Hope you find what you're looking for, Max.”

He turned, never looked back and walked out.

 

Parris ran her hand along the rows of suits and dresses in her closet. “Why don't you ask your parents for the money, Niki?” she asked into the mouth of the closet that resembled a designer's warehouse.

Nikita rested her head on her palm. “Believe me, I've thought about it, and if I don't come up with some other miracle, I just may have to.”

Parris turned around, holding up a silver sequined cocktail dress with spaghetti straps.

“There's my dress!” Nikita sputtered, pointing her finger at the shimmering creation.

“Really? I had it so long I thought it was mine, chile. You want it back?”

“At some point,” she answered dryly.

She returned it to its spot in the closet. “So how much is Quinn giving you?”

“He said fifteen thousand. He's using his savings and some of the money from the record deal.”

“That's a pretty generous loan, Niki. I mean besides the money from the deal, where did Quinn get all that money from?”

“He said he'd been saving it.”

Parris arched a brow. “Hmm.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Not a thing. Anyway, why don't you just take out a bank loan? I mean, Nick and I would love to lend it to you, but we have everything tied up in the club and he's in the process of trying to open another one on the coast.”

“I appreciate the thought.” She blew out a breath. “I've thought about the bank thing, but I don't want to get myself into that kind of debt, Parris. If anything goes wrong, I'll be liable and could lose everything.”

Parris sat down on the paisley chaise lounge. “People take out business loans every day. If you're going to be a businesswoman, then you're going to have to start thinking like one.”

Nikita tossed around the advice for a moment. “Maybe,” she said finally. “I'll think about it as a last resort.”

“Even the money that you get from Quinn and your parents, if you decide to ask them, you're still going to have to pay it back sometime.”

“That's different.”

Parris simply looked at her friend, at a loss for something to say. Nikita was so accustomed to everything being handed to her that she didn't know any other way. She sighed. Nikita would just have to learn sometime. Even if it was the hard way.

 

“So you finally told him, huh?” Val asked from across the cafeteria table.

“Yeah.” Maxine stuck her fork in her salad, which she'd
drenched in diet Russian dressing. “I think he took it pretty well. I'm the one who's all bent out of shape. I just feel so awful about how everything turned out.”

“It had to come to a head at some point. Would you have preferred to have that conversation after you married the man?”

“Definitely not.” She ate a mouthful of salad.

“You'll be all right, girl. It'll just take some time. And you have plenty to keep you busy.”

Maxine smiled. “You got that right. I'm about beat. The girl who helps me out is cool, but there's still so much to do. I'm gonna hang on to this gig at the bank a little while longer, and then I'm callin' game.”

“Still thinking about opening an office?”

Maxine took a breath. She'd been thinking about that, all right. Now that it was over between her and Dre and she was planning to leave the bank, anyway, now was the time to tell Val what she'd been thinking.

Maxine put her fork down, crossed her forearms on the table, and leaned forward. “Val, I've been thinkin' about…not just leavin' the bank…but leavin' New York.”

“Max, you can't be serious.”

Maxine slowly nodded. “I am. Val, this past year and a half has kicked my butt. After Lacy was killed nothin' seemed the same no more. Ya know. I figured gettin' married would plug up the hole in my life, but hey…you see what happened with that.” She fiddled with her water glass, slowly spinning it around. “And I just need to put some distance between me and the memories. Go somewhere and start fresh.”

Val looked at her childhood friend—all grown up, successful, smart, funny as all hell, pretty and so very unhappy.

“Girl, lemme tell you something. You could go from here to the ends of the earth and it'd never be far enough away to keep your heart from feelin' the way it does.”

She reached out and covered Maxine's hand, ceasing the spinning.

“You're going to have to find a way to settle what's inside,
Maxine, or you'll be running for the rest of your life. But, sister friend, if this is what you think you need, I'm behind you one hundred percent. And you know it.”

“Thanks. I can't ask for more than that.”

 

Quinn and Nikita sat across the paper-piled desk listening to Sean and Khendra bring them up-to-date.

“The district attorney had set up a complete investigation of the incidents surrounding your sister's death. Their conclusion is that it was accidental,” Khendra said.

Quinn reared up from his seat.

Sean held up his hand.

“But, in order to avoid a civil suit, they have agreed to pay you damages for wrongful death, if you're willing to settle out of court,” she continued. “Internal Affairs has dismissed the two officers involved for attempting to cover up what they'd done. The two boys they arrested have been released and all charges have been dropped.”

Quinn was silent. It was Nikita who spoke up.

“In other words, if we keep our mouths shut they'll give us the money without a hassle?”

“Exactly,” Sean said. “We could still take this to trial, reject the offer. But as I said before, it could drag on and get very ugly. The P.D. will do whatever it has to, to save as much face as possible. Even if that means trying to discredit your sister in the process. They'll close ranks on us.”

Nikita looked at Quinn, whose face was unreadable.

“I don't want that. Make the deal.” He stood. “But you'd better squeeze them for every dime. Their blood money will never replace my sister, and draggin' her name through the mud ain't gonna bring her back, either. But if the digits ain't high enough, take 'em to court. I'll just have to handle it.”

“Done.” Sean closed his portfolio. “What are you willing to settle for?”

“Nothin' less than a mil.”

“We'll start at three.”

“How long you think this is gonna take?”

“It's hard to say. A couple of months just to work out the deal. Getting the actual money is when the real wait begins.”

Pressin' On

Q
uinn was finished with his classes at ASCAP. There was no studio time today, and he didn't feel like going to Nikita's office.

Matter of fact, he felt like going there less and less, the same way he felt about going home. And she was starting to complain about that again, too.

He drove down Malcolm X Boulevard, seeing who he could see. Felt like hanging with the fellas for a minute. Get himself grounded again.

He wasn't sure what was happening to him lately. He just felt that he was pretending to be somebody else all the time. Putting on a front.

He slowed as he approached Shug's and spotted T.C. and his crew.

“Yo. T.C.!” He honked the horn. T.C. turned and, seeing Quinn roll to a stop, moved away from the group and strolled toward the car.

He was still long and lanky, looking like he could use a good meal, Quinn observed. But there was something else about him that he noticed as he approached. There was a new swagger, a defiance, a hardness that he'd never noticed before.

T.C. came around the front of the car and leaned down against the driver's-side window. “Whatsup, man?”

They exchanged the handshake of the day.

“It's all good.”

“Ain't seen you around much no more,” T.C. said.

Quinn could have sworn he heard a challenge in his voice. “Been busy, brother.” He smiled.

T.C. didn't return it. “Yeah, so I hear. You all big-time now that you outta the hood.”

“Naw, man. It's still me. Ain't nothin' changed.”

“
You
changed.” He cut him a look. “Yo, I gotta roll. Take it light.” He turned and walked away to rejoin the group, who then moved down the block.

Quinn sat for several minutes in the car, replaying what had just transpired.

Was he different?

Finally he pulled away and headed downtown. Maybe he'd stop by and see Nikita, anyway.

 

Nikita sat at her desk reviewing a pamphlet about soliciting an international contingent of authors, editors and publishers for a symposium in Nigeria. The group was just forming and needed volunteers to help with the coordination.

She read the information again, her adrenaline flowing like the Nile. She crossed her stockinged legs and began tapping her foot.

It sounded fantastic, something that she definitely wanted to be a part of. She and Quinn could work on it together.

Maybe that was just the thing they needed to get them back on track. Lately he seemed so distant, detached. He was coming home at more normal hours, more or less…since she'd put her foot down. He was working at the studio, and had finished his classes. Things looked as if they were going to work out about his sister's case. Their sex life was great.

She sucked her teeth and sighed. She just couldn't figure him out. She'd done everything within her power to enhance his life, open up new avenues to him, but…

A knock on the door pulled her away from her thoughts.

She pushed away from her desk, crossed the room, the seashell on the end of her lock swinging with her hip-swaying stride. She pulled the door open.

“Maxine…” She sort of frowned in confusion.

“Hey, Nikita. Sorry to bother you. I thought Quinn might be here.”

Nikita's gaze moved quickly over Maxine's long, toned form, the mint green linen skirt suit showing off those damned hips and dancer's legs.

“He's not here…at the moment. Come on in. Something I can help you with?”

“No. Not really.”

Nikita caught the hitch in her voice. “Everything okay? You…look a little upset.”

She smiled and Nikita noticed the little gap between her two front teeth. Men had a thing for that, she'd heard. That and bowlegs. She wasn't sure why, though.

“Everything's cool. Listen, just tell Quinn that I dropped in to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“Yeah. I'm leavin' for San Francisco in the morning. Just wanted to see him before I left.”

“Oh.”
San Francisco.
“Big move.”

“Somethin' like that. Anyway, just tell him for me.”

“Sure.”

Maxine turned to leave, then turned back. “How are things with Lacy's case?”

Nikita braced her hand against the doorframe. “We've agreed to settle out of court. We just have to see how long it's going to take them to pay, and how much.”

“That's good. Glad to hear it. It's been a long time comin'.” She smiled again. “Take care, Nikita.”

“I will. And good luck,” she called out to the retreating form.

She shut the door.
Well, if that wasn't the strangest visit.

Maxine gone. Hallelujah.
That was the one element in Quinn's life that she feared more than his love of the street—Maxine Sherman. He always said they were “just friends.” Ha.
She felt the vibes. And she knew that given the chance something would get going between them. But she'd made sure that never happened. Not on her watch. She had no intention of losing Quinn. Not now. Not ever. She'd worked too hard to get him, and them, to where they were.

With Maxine out of the picture her life became that much simpler.

 

Maxine walked toward the train station. She shouldn't have gone there. She shouldn't have put herself in that position…facing his woman. But she took a chance. She hadn't heard from Quinn since Christmas, more than six months ago.

Be real, girl. You wanted to see Nikita. Wanted to see
her
face again, and maybe that would, once and for all, knock reality past first base, all the way home.

They were a couple. Nikita and Quinn. Still together. End of story.

 

Nikita couldn't dial Parris's number fast enough. Parris picked up in time with her answering machine message, and had to shout over Nick's recorded voice.

“Hey, girl. Sorry about that. Just got out of the shower. Hang on a sec.” She hugged the phone between her shoulder and her ear, draped a towel around her wet hair, and tugged on the belt of her robe. “Whew. Now, I'm listening.”

“Guess who just paid me a visit?”

“Those guys from Publisher's Clearinghouse?”

“Parris…please.”

“Okay, okay. Who?”

“Maxine Sherman.”

Parris jerked her long neck back, her green eyes squinting. “Say what?”

“You heard me.”

She went on to tell Parris about the impromptu visit and Maxine's announcement. “So what do you think about that?”

Parris sat on the edge of the chaise lounge. “Do you really want to know what I think, Nikita? Or is that just a rhetorical question?”

“If you have something to say, tell me.”

Parris took a breath. “First of all, I think you're too happy, for all the wrong reasons.”

“Too happy! Shouldn't I be?”

“You want to hear me out, or what?”

“Go ahead.”

“Maxine, from everything I've gathered, has been a good friend to Quinn for more years than you've even known him. If the man loves you, his friendship with Maxine wasn't going to change that.

“He's lost a lot over the past two years. But you've been so hell-bent on proving something that you haven't taken the time to see what it is that he needed in his life…just your own.”

“That's not true.”

“Isn't it?”

“Parris, I've only wanted the best for Quinn. To see him reach his potential. If that meant doing some of the things I did, then so be it. Look at where he is now, from when we met.”

“Yes. But is he happy? Was all that work, effort and energy really for him, or for you?”

 

Quinn got halfway to Nikita's office and turned around. What he really needed was some peace and quiet. He knew that wouldn't be the case with Nikita. She'd find something for him to do, or talk him to death.

He headed home, and for the first time in months, he began to write again.