All Up In My Business (18 page)

Diane frowned as she pondered Candace’s words.
Oh my God, she’s with the other man
. Rather than ask about this out right, Diane chose a roundabout approach. “Fine, I’ll come to you. Maybe it will help to talk.”

Candace’s phone beeped.
Why is he texting me? I said to call!
“Hold on, Diane.” Candace punched her message box.

Uh-uh, Candy. Ima be witchu tonite.

“Candace, what is it?”

“Look, Diane. I have to go.”

“Let me come down and hang out, Can. I’m worried about you … being by yourself.”

“Don’t be! Look, I just need to chill. I’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”

When Candace called Q again, the call went to voice mail.
This shit is over, Q. You’re going to be in for a surprise when your ass is left knocking on the other side of the door!
That decision made, Candace walked over to the minibar, opened a bottle of merlot, and, realizing she hadn’t eaten since lunch, ordered a sandwich from room service. She slowly sipped the wine and pondered the events of the past few months and of the years before that. She remembered her wild teenage days, and her joy at discovering how good sex could be. She replayed her first dates with Adam and the first time they’d slept together, how she’d been a bit disappointed but not deterred. Adam was more conservative and not as endowed as some of her former lovers. But what he lacked in size he made up for in commitment.

With marriage, kids, and a business, the years had passed quickly. She’d been happy for the most part. It wasn’t until she’d walked into the new, upscale gym and laid her eyes on the owner that she acknowledged just how unfilled a part of her life had been. Q must have noticed it, too, because he flirted immediately, made her feel sixteen again—the age she’d lost her virginity. She hadn’t planned on having an affair with him. It just happened. One day, after an entire session of flirting, Q had offered to let her use his private area to take a shower. He walked in naked to dry her off, with his massive sword standing out to greet her. And that is when her first real workout in over thirty years had begun in earnest.

“Do you want it?” he asked softly, the tip of his huge weapon already poised for entry.

“Yes.”

“Louder, baby, I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes!” came her fervently whispered reply.

He lifted her, held her against the tiled wall, and seared her with several inches of power, passion, youth, and will. She moaned and groaned in spite of herself, knowing that she should stop him while wanting him to go on forever. He pummeled her with his manhood, opening her up beyond her wildest thoughts, swiped her nipples with his hot tongue, and teased her rear with his middle finger. Finally she’d crumbled, unable to stand. And there, on the shower floor, beneath a flow of water, he’d taken her again, from behind, until they’d both convulsed with massive climaxes, soaked to the skin and to the soul.

He’d dried her off then, as promised. Before leaving, he simply said, “Good work, Candy. Get ready for next time.”

He’d screwed her after every workout since, and she loved it. “But that’s over, Candace,” she said sternly, getting up to replenish her wine and stop her tingling nana. “Over!”
I’ll make an appointment with Doctor Bronson tomorrow, go stay with Diane and Ace, and start the process of trying to get Adam to forgive me and get my marriage back on track
.

A soft knock at the door caused Candace’s heartbeat to quicken. She breathed a sigh of relief when a quick peek revealed it was the bellhop with her meal. It wasn’t until she opened the door that she found he wasn’t alone.

“Q, I told you not to come.” Even as she said this, she took in his tight black T-shirt, his baggy red shorts, and his long, strong legs.

“I know.” His dark-eyed stare was piercing, and Candace’s hands shook as she signed the bill.

The bellman left. The hotel door clicked. The lovers were alone. Candace frowned at Q. He took two steps and stood directly in front of her. “Do you really want me to leave?”

Candace looked up. She meant to look into his eyes, but her gaze came to rest on his bow-shaped lips, then dropped down to the hard chest lightly sprinkled with curly black hair,
and down farther to what was surprisingly a burgeoning erection.

Q stepped even closer, so close that his shirt grazed Candace’s breasts. He enfolded her in his arms. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked again, his breath hot against her ear.

Candace shook her head as her arms encircled his waist. Wordlessly, she took his hand and walked to the room’s sitting area.
Just one more night
, she reasoned as she and Q shared the dinner she’d ordered and finished off the wine. They didn’t make love right away, but rather talked, more conversation than they’d ever had—about Q’s background, Candace’s marriage, why she would cancel her gym membership, and why this would be their last night together. And this time when he fucked her, Candace decided to let him in raw. They were both already infected, he didn’t have AIDS or HIV (the only paper she’d demanded he show her), and this was the last time. The last time in life that she’d have this man’s gorgeous, skilled dick inside her. So she opened, Q entered, and, stroke after powerful stroke, he replaced the day’s pain with the pleasure that had caused it all.

33

T
he next day, Malcolm entered Toussaint’s office and closed the door. Toussaint stood and came from behind his desk, anger and concern evident in his hastily hissed words. “Man, what the hell is going on? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning!”

Malcolm slumped onto the dark brown leather love seat in the sitting area of Toussaint’s large, corner office. “I’ve been over at the house. Talking to Dad.”

“Mama showed up at my doorstep last night,” Toussaint said, joining Malcolm on the couch. “She had a carry-on with her. What’s going on with her and Daddy, man?”

Malcolm shook his head, wearily rubbing his forehead and then his eyes. “Mama cheated on Daddy,” he said finally, a sigh accompanying these words of doom.

Silence filled the air. “You’re bullshittin’,” Toussaint said after he’d found the air to breathe again. “You’re bullshittin’,” he said again, louder this time.

“Keep your voice down,” Malcolm whispered. “We have to keep a lid on this shit!”

Toussaint stood and paced his office. He stopped at the window and looked out, not seeing the beautifully colored
leaves announcing October’s arrival. “Who with?” he finally asked without turning around.

Malcolm joined Toussaint at the window. The conversation continued but instead of looking at each other, both men stared out into a world turned crazy with one simple line:
Mama cheated on Daddy
. “The owner of the gym where she works out—her
personal trainer,”
he finished sarcastically.

“That young, thug-looking muthafucka on the billboards around town?”

“Quintin Bright. He just turned thirty.”

“Damn. I can’t believe it.”

“Me either. And neither can Daddy.”

“Aw, man. I know he’s upset.”

“To put it mildly. I’ve never seen the old man tear up before … but he did this morning. Yesterday he was angry. Today he’s just hurt.”

“But how could it have happened, Malcolm? How could Mama do this? The last time we were all together, they seemed to be grooving like always.”

Malcolm didn’t have an answer.

“What’s Daddy going to do?” Toussaint looked at Malcolm, his eyes, questioning as he awaited the answer.

Malcolm walked over to a table containing a water pitcher and four crystal goblets. “That’s the million-dollar question, brother,” he said as he slowly filled his glass.

“Do you think he’ll divorce her?” Toussaint’s question was more to himself than Malcolm. “No, that can’t happen. Livingston men don’t cheat or divorce.”

“And Livingston women don’t …” Neither son wanted to think about what their mother had done. “Is Mom still over at your house?”

“No, she didn’t stay.” When Malcolm shot Toussaint a questioning glance, he continued. “Alexis came over and Mom left.”

“And she didn’t say where was going? Because Daddy said he put her out.”

“She’s at the Ellis Motel.” Toussaint walked to his desk and grabbed his cell phone. His office line beeped at the same time.

“Look, I’ve got to go talk to Ace. Daddy’s not coming in today, so we need to rearrange some meetings. Then I’m going back over to the house. You’re calling Mama, right?”

Toussaint nodded. “Need to find out how she is and hopefully …” Malcolm was out the door before he finished the sentence. “Man, this is messed up.” Toussaint hit speed dial. “Mama, where are you?”

Candace cringed at the concern mixed with anger mixed with judgment she heard in her son’s voice. “I’m all right, son. On my way over to Ace and Diane’s.”

“Damn, Mama. How could you? After thirty-something years! And with a young-ass thug?”

“I know I messed up, Toussaint. But this is still your mother you’re talking to. This situation is between me and your father.”

“Evidently not,” Toussaint retorted. “If things had stayed just between you and him, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Candace said, sighing. “And I understand your anger. Things got out of hand. But don’t worry, son. I’m going to do everything in my power to fix this and make things right with your dad”

“You know this doesn’t just affect you, right?” Toussaint unexpectedly felt the urge to cry. “I love both of y’all, can’t imagine y’all not together. And think of what will happen if the public finds out? It’ll be a PR nightmare.”

“Don’t worry,” Candace repeated. “That’s part of what Diane and I will talk about. And hopefully I’ll be back home tonight, with your dad, to work out the rest.”

34

A
ce was still reeling from last night’s drama and was hurting for his brother. He’d not been surprised when Adam hadn’t come to work, and he wondered if he’d be in the office on Monday.
Is a weekend enough time to recover from someone taking your heart and stomping on it?

Shyla waited patiently for Ace to continue. It was obvious his mind was elsewhere. “Ace, you were saying?”

“Sorry, Shyla, a lot on my mind. I was saying that since you’re meeting with the Food Network next week, I thought this would be a good opportunity for Zoe. She will basically be coming along in an assistant capacity. But as your star continues to rise to the level of director of marketing, as it is currently poised to do, I’d like to groom her for a junior management position in that department. This trip will show her another side of business operations. How does that sound to you?” Ace studied Shyla’s calm expression as he awaited her answer. He knew she’d planned to rendezvous with Toussaint in LA, and that she’d be pissed to learn that Zoe was going instead. Yet this anger wasn’t written all over her face.
Impressive
.

“I think that’s a great idea!” Shyla replied, thankful she didn’t actually choke on the lie. “The idea of me being promoted, that is.” Shyla chuckled and tossed her hair, hoping her
devil-may-care act was convincing. “Zoe seems to be a determined and capable worker. However, I didn’t know she aspired for a marketing career.”

“Her taking this trip was my idea, as are the thoughts of her moving to the marketing department. One of the secrets to our success in employee retention is that we promote from within. Zoe has been with us for three years and has done an excellent job. She’s excited about her future here.”

“And so am I,” Shyla readily agreed. “I’ll schedule a meeting right away and—”

“Ace, I need to—” Malcolm burst through the door to Ace’s office. “Oh, sorry, Uncle. Didn’t know you were in a meeting.”

“It’s okay, Malcolm. We were just finishing up,” Ace answered from the sitting area on the far side of the room. “Come on in. Get back to me as soon as possible,” he said to Shyla as she rose to leave. “And keep what I’ve shared with you regarding Zoe’s future promotion confidential.”

Shyla left Ace’s office and couldn’t reach the other side of the building fast enough. Her four-inch heels clicked a hasty rhythm on the hall’s bamboo flooring before being silenced by the thick, plush carpeting of the common area between the business development and marketing wings.

Shyla felt she deserved an Academy Award for her performance in Ace’s office. In truth, she was livid at the thought of Zoe going to LA instead of her. Not only was it a bad idea in terms of the business, but also it would totally ruin a perfect opportunity for her and Toussaint to have quality alone time. It had been a month since they’d been intimate, and Shyla was more than ready for some Livingston love. That’s why she, and not Zoe, should be taking the trip to LA and exactly what she planned to tell Toussaint just as soon as she reached his office.

*   *   *

“I thought I asked not to be disturbed,” Toussaint barked into the intercom.

“I’m sorry, Toussaint,” his assistant replied. “But there’s someone here to see you.”

“Who?” The last thing Toussaint wanted to do right now was talk to anyone about business. He hadn’t been able to focus on work since Malcolm left his office.

“Alexis St. Clair.”

Toussaint started, then smiled.
I don’t feel like seeing anybody, except her
. “Sorry for snapping at you, Monique. Please, send her in.”

Toussaint stood and walked around his desk. When Alexis came in, he motioned for her to close the door and then opened his arms. She stepped into them, hugging him tightly, breathing in the woodsy scent she so adored.

“To what do I owe this unexpected visit?” he whispered.

“Would you believe I was in the area and decided to stop by?”

“Baby, I’d believe just about anything you told me.”

“I was interviewed by a potential client just down the street. That gave me the perfect excuse to stop by, see how you’re doing, and find out if everything is okay with your mom. I probably should have called….”

“No, Alexis,” Toussaint said, hugging her tighter and lazily running a hand down her back. “I’m glad to see you.” Reluctantly, he released her but reached for her hand and led them over to the sitting area he and Malcolm had recently occupied. “Would you like something to drink?”