Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage (8 page)

C
aribbean music floated through the air. A calypso band flavored the room with saucy beats and rhythms that had partygoers unloosening bow ties and lifting dresses so they would not be stepped on as they danced the night away. The Gordons’ fund-raiser was a huge success, raising more than two million dollars for breast cancer research. While the elite gave for the cause, it didn’t hurt that next year’s tax return would reflect their generosity, too.

The seafood gumbo and jambalaya had been replaced with fine wine, and Mona sipped along with everyone else. Shoulders moved from side to side; Mona’s did as well. Sylvia and Kenny were lost in the crowd, and Mona smiled, happy that Sylvia was enjoying herself. She stopped for a moment to contemplate the likelihood of Sylvia and Kenny getting back together, but it was their business. After all, she wouldn’t want Sylvia interfering in her affairs.

Mona made a last check to see if her workers had enough wine and all was in order, sashaying around the room, stopping at different points, until she was satisfied. Everyone was having a good time, and the music continued as if there was no end.

“Would you like to dance?” whispered a male voice from behind Mona.

His breath was warm on her neck, and she felt her body tingle. She turned around slowly, and Michael Broussard stood nose to nose with her.

“You seem to be enjoying the music; if we hurry, we can get a in a few twirls before the song ends.”

Mona looked into his eyes, not wanting to move. “I’d like that, Mr. Broussard.”

“Michael is fine.”

Mona kept quiet and followed Michael onto the dance floor. His movements were fluid and quick, and he moved Mona around with the air of a professional. He was light on his feet, and the wine Mona consumed caused her to loosen up and follow his lead. He swung her back and held her, twirled her around and lifted her at the waist giving the illusion she was a star flitting across the sky. When the music stopped, Michael had to hold Mona up to keep her from spinning out of control and landing on her behind.

She put her hand up when Michael begged for more. Mona was intrigued and wondered if he moved like that in every thing he did. At the moment, she needed a time-out to assess what had just happened.

Michael sat next to Mona and clapped to the music, glancing occasionally in her direction. He smiled, getting his second wind.

“Can’t keep up with me, heh? I had you pegged for someone who could stay on the dance floor all night long.”

“I believe it’s the wine. It won’t let me back on the floor.”

“Had a little too much to drink?”

“Something like that. You’re very discerning, Mr. Broussard…I mean Michael.”

“I like you, Mona. You have class and style, and I love the way you walk.”

Mona blushed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you will have breakfast with me.”

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t usually go out with someone the moment I meet them.”

“I’m not just ‘someone,’ Mona. I’ve known you my whole life.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean that we were destined to meet. I’ve waited my whole life to meet someone like you. Tonight, I saw a first-class businesswoman handle a classy affair with ease and grace. Your flair and elegance are beyond words, not to mention the wonderful food the host told me was your doing.”

“Well, thank you for the compliment. I’m glad you enjoyed.”

“And breakfast…”

“There you are, Dr. Broussard,” Kohara Gordon called. “Kessler and I wondered where you were.”

“Enjoying myself, Mrs. Gordon. This has been a wonderful evening.”

Did she just say
Dr
. Broussard? He never said he was a doctor
, Mona thought. No, he introduced himself as Mr. Michael Broussard.
Who was this man?

“Mona is being swept off her feet by the gentleman who was admiring her earlier,” Sylvia commented to Kenny as they watched the couple dance by.

“Good for him. Mona is not one of my favorite persons.”

“Kenny, you know how Mona is. She’s very opinionated and doesn’t hold anything back. I believe it comes from her being so sheltered while growing up and experiencing quite a few disappointments in her young life. Now she has to prove to the world that she’s confident about who she is. No one can pierce her wall unless she allows them to.”

“Well, good for Mona. I’m with her as long as her opinions don’t interfere with me and you.”

“What do you mean?” Sylvia asked.

“I’m not going to tell a lie, Sylvia. You feel so right to me.”

“Not so fast, Kenny. I’m just getting used to going out on dates.”

“I know but I’m going to say this anyway. You have rekindled something in me. The person you knew twenty years ago is no longer the person you see. I’ll admit that I’ve done some things in my life that I’m not proud of, but I’ve changed. I’m a better man.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“The Kenny you see is the real deal.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You can say that you’ll give me a chance.”

“Well, we’re out, aren’t we?”

“I’m talking about more than tonight, Sylvia. Let me show you how a real man treats a woman.”

“I don’t think I’m ready…for anything else.”

Kenny reached into his pocket. “Hold out your hand.”

“For what?”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

Sylvia closed her eyes. Kenny laid a key in the palm of her hand.

Sylvia opened her eyes. “What is this for?”

“Room 628 at the Intercontinental down the street—right next to your favorite mall. You can come with me or I can drive you home and let you think about it. I have another key. What will it be?”

T
he air was brisk and stung Kenny’s face as he cruised down Peachtree Road with the window down. Soft sounds from Will Downing, Jr. floated in the early dawn.

Kenny hummed along with the music, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Maybe we can just get away…maybe lay in bed for a day,”
Kenny sang along with Will Downing. He rocked his head slowly to the beat, enunciating every word as if his life depended upon it, stealing the song away from Will. His thoughts were on the lady he had asked to come to his room. The tapping continued until the hotel came into view. Preoccupied with his thoughts, Kenny jerked the car left into the parking lot, cutting off a 1966 Ford Mustang barreling down the street heading north.

“Whoa, that was close,” Kenny said.

Kenny found a parking space in the parking garage close to the hotel entrance, parked and then sat a moment, wondering if Sylvia would take him up on his offer. They were not the young, inexperienced kids of twenty years ago when life was an experiment in the making. They were two grown adults. Kenny drew his lips together and let out a stream of air. It was time to find out what Sylvia was thinking.

Kenny moved around the car until he came to the passenger’s side and opened the door. There sat Sylvia, still beautiful in her evening gown—her ample breasts bountifully displayed above the bodice of her dress—not moving or saying a word as Kenny extended a hand to her. She looked at it as if it were foreign, then turned her head and looked at her lap as if searching for something. Kenny stood at attention, in no obvious hurry.

Creases formed in Sylvia’s face. Kenny would have rather seen her dimples, but he understood that this was a big decision for her. Sylvia swung her legs out of the car and reached for Kenny’s hand to pull her up. She looked into his face and gave a faint smile without saying a word.

They rode the elevator to the lobby floor and exited in a hallway that led to the lobby. Sylvia’s head turned. Kenny’s head turned.

“That was Boris Kodjoe,” Sylvia said. “My God, he’s fine.”

“Look over there. It’s his wife Terri with their baby,” Kenny said.

Then Tyler Perry walked past. Sylvia and Kenny were speechless and their mouths hung wide open.

The Intercontinental Hotel still reeked of its brand-new smell. The lobby of the hotel was grand. Kenny led the way to the elevators. Sylvia was still at his heels, although she hadn’t uttered a word since the Kodjoe family sighting.

The pair rode the elevator to the sixth floor in silence.

Ding…ding.

Sylvia looked at Kenny, and he nodded. This was it. They walked the fifty feet to room 628.

“Do you still have the key?” Kenny asked.

“I thought you said you had an extra key.”

“I do, but I was curious to know if you were still holding onto the one I gave you.”

Sylvia didn’t answer. She reached into her small bag, produced the key and handed it to Kenny without a word. Without looking at Sylvia, Kenny took the key and opened the door.

Kenny saw Sylvia’s eyes dart around the room, little flashlights trying to discern what lay hidden in the dark. He rubbed her back and gently ushered her into the room. Two queen beds were draped with heavy off-white spreads, and the pillows were fluffed to perfection.

Sylvia glanced at a bed, but stood in the middle of the room. Kenny strode to the window to close the drapes, then returned to where Sylvia stood and faced her. He raised her chin with his fingers and gingerly kissed her lips.

“What’s on your mind, baby?”

“I can’t do this, Kenny. I don’t know why I came here.”

“Is it me?” Kenny arched his eyebrows.

“Don’t try and play me, Kenny. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Sylvia, I want to be with you. It’s as simple as that. And not just for the night. I hope this will be the night of all nights…and days…the beginning of a new friendship.”

“Then this is all wrong, Kenny. We should try and get to know each other first. That’s the biggest reason people get a divorce. They fail to become friends, and as their relationship moves ahead, they try to fill in the stuff that should have been there in the beginning and set themselves up for failure.”

“Now where did all of this come from?”

“I’ve been thinking. After twenty-something years of what I thought was a marriage that had ‘happily ever after’ written at the end…somewhere, something went wrong and I have no clue what it was. Adonis leaving tore me apart. I gave my marriage everything I had and then some, but it wasn’t good enough. Kenny, I still love my husband in a crazy sort of way.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I let you talk me into it?”

“Oh, don’t blame it on me! Yes, I want to be with you, but I didn’t put you in handcuffs and drag you here against your will. I’m only guilty of forcing you to make a choice. All you had to do was say yes or no. It wouldn’t have been the first time that you told me no.”

“It was the look on your face.”

“I’m not desperate, Sylvia. I’ve just been blessed to find the woman who I should have been with in the first place had I known how to treat her right.”

“Listen to you, Mr. Kenny Richmond.”

“Yeah, listen to me, Ms. Sylvia St. James.”

“You smell good…real good.”

“And your lips are fab-u-lous.”

Kenny put his arms around Sylvia and held her tight. Sylvia’s arms now hung around Kenny’s neck. Their lips met in a tender kiss. Heads cocked to the side, they held each other tight and continued to kiss and let their tongues roam in search of all there was to discover. Kenny was afraid to let go—afraid that Sylvia would use it as an excuse to stop what was the beginning of what he believed was a lifetime together.

They stopped kissing and Kenny said softly, “Let me turn on the radio to a nice jazz station. That will help lighten the mood that is quite right at the moment.”

Sylvia gazed at him as he moved to the radio. Kenny wasn’t sure what to feel, but he thought that any minute Sylvia would pounce on him and lick him to death. She had that crazy seductive look about her. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but Sylvia stayed glued to the spot.

“Do you want to get comfortable?” Kenny asked.

“You mean take my clothes off?” Sylvia responded.

He laughed. “If that will make you feel more comfortable, then by all means.”

“Kenny, I’m serious.”

“Let’s dance. This must be a Will Downing night. They’re playing my jam.”

Sylvia fell into Kenny’s arms, and they slow danced, punctuating every word Will sang with their bodies. Sylvia laid her head on Kenny’s shoulder, and he stroked it until Sylvia was cooing.

A fast number played and they broke out into a swing number, throwing themselves at each other, making erratic movements at each bend and turn—foreplay by another name. Kenny and Sylvia were so lost in the mood they created, no one noticed that the music had faded and the disc jockey had gone to commercial.

Kenny touched the base of her neck. His finger slowly pulled the zipper down. The zipper moved like a train moving along the tracks, splitting the track in two. The top of the gown fell into his hands, and he laid her on the bed.

Kenny placed kisses on her breasts. Sweet adoration purred from Sylvia’s lips as Kenny continued to climb up and down the mountain ranges. His kisses were potent, and Sylvia surrendered easily.

As Sylvia’s lips continued to enjoy Kenny’s, a sudden vision of Adonis invaded her subconscious. Almost as if someone had dropped a bucket of ice on the twosome to douse out flames, Sylvia sat up.

“Please, Kenny, I can’t go there with you.”

“We were so far along the way, Sylvia. Trust me.”

“I have to trust what my head is telling me. I can’t have sex with you. If we are to have anything at all, you’ll have to respect my wishes.”

“Didn’t you feel what I was feeling, Sylvia?”

“What were you feeling, Kenny? What was your head telling you? You must have missed the signals that said I’m vulnerable, fragile, not sure if this is what I want to do although I’m is in the room with you. It’s your…your…thang that’s ruling your heart. You don’t care about me.”

Kenny was afraid that he might lose her again. “That’s not true. I was caught up in the moment, but I do care about you. We don’t have to do anything, but I’d like it if you would lay with me tonight. No touching and no feeling.”

Her smile warmed his heart.

“Okay,” Sylvia said, almost in a whisper. “I’ll stay as long as you behave even though I know I’ve put myself in this compromising position.”

“I’ll behave. I promise,” he said.

Sylvia smiled and kissed Kenny full on the lips.

“Thank you for understanding, Kenny.”