Four of his mother’s division directors had earned international notoriety. Promoting him to such prestigious levels was brilliant, but Darius also wanted his birthday gifts. In order to avoid jealousy and controversy over promotions, clearly she had to light his torch. If the women weren’t so preoccupied with trying to persuade him to put in a good word for them, they would have seen his promotion coming. Fortunately, his mother didn’t take sides with his father’s delaying his well-deserved advancement. Any one of his subordinates could name their price and Black Diamonds’ competitors would hire them on the spot, especially Zen Chin.
Zen was five feet, one inch, Asian, and worth her weight in platinum. Aggressive. Confident. Overachiever. Merely getting the job done wasn’t enough. Darius didn’t know where she found the time or energy. Married. Three kids. Fifty. Zen never lingered. In. Out. That was her style with her clients and with him.
During their first encounter, Zen’s hands massaged his neck, shoulders, back, ass, and hard-on in ten minutes tops. “You cum too fast. Next time you go slower.” Orgasm timing was one thing Zen eventually made him master. His entire being—mind, body, and soul—was so relaxed he didn’t move well after Zen had left her office. The family picture on Zen’s desk stared at him, so he placed it facedown.
Dressed in an earth-tone leisure suit, Jada’s assistant, Shannon, quietly entered the room. Shannon’s hair was combed into two afropuffs—one on each side. Her style was cool. Shannon was fly but not his type. The number one rule of “Darius’s Law” was never gamble with anyone who had nothing to lose, so each of his women had intangible valuables as well as monetary wealth. Maxine’s parents owned several floral shops around the country, so that made her legit.
“Mrs. Tanner,” Shannon bent over Jada’s shoulder and said, “excuse me for the interruption. Ms. Ruby is on line one.” Shannon’s whisper was the volume most people spoke normally. Darius knew his mother wouldn’t keep My Dear waiting. Why hadn’t My Dear phoned him instead?
“Thanks, Shannon.” Jada’s hazel-colored eyes gazed in his direction. “Darius, take over until I return.”
Great. Now he could strong-arm his staff. Maintaining eye contact, his bodybuilding physique rose simultaneously as he strolled to the head of the asymmetrically shaped table. Darius stood adjacent to his mother, flashed a million-dollar smile, and softly stroked his well-trimmed mustache and his irresistibly thick, milk-chocolate lips. Darius slid into his mother’s seat and firmly said, “Black Diamonds’ Fifteenth Annual International Cultural Convention will be held in Manhattan exactly three months from today.” His pointing finger bounced on and off the desk four times for emphasis.
The corners of Jada’s mouth partially spread while her coffee-colored lips pressed together to conceal her smirk. Her eyes glistened as she watched in amazement, then exited through her private door.
Focusing directly on Miranda’s forehead, Darius said, “Miranda, I need your updated status report on the Mexican, Latino, Panamanian, and Puerto Rican participants ready for posting to the website by eight o’clock Monday morning.” As Darius turned to Zen, he stared dead center at her nose and said, “Zen, let’s review your budgeted expenditures for the Asian, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean telecommunications requirements . . .” As Darius spoke, he made contact with Ginger’s temples and Heather’s eyebrows.
Variety had always spiced his life, so why should his sex life be any different? Why did women falsely accuse him of cheating when they were the perfectionists of seduction? Like vultures, those females swarmed, waited, and then practically raped him as often as he permitted. Why did he crave sex every day like it was food? Was that normal? Not even My Dear could help him if his mother ever found out about his dealings. That would unquestionably be the day he’d die or wish he were dead.
He smiled softly, knowing it secretly turned his women on. Sex had become an academic sport. At least, that was what he learned while in high school and college. Emotions were for nerds who had sugar in their tanks, like his foe, Rodney Banks. Once Darius’s heart was involved, he was vulnerable to losing control, and by no means would he allow that to happen. Only weak men relinquished their power. Maxine was the only exception to Darius’s law, because she’d never hurt him. And he would love her as long as she allowed him to dominate their relationship.
After dictating for half an hour, Darius peeked his head into his mom’s office. “Ma. Is everything all right?” Darius whispered, since his mother never left a meeting for more than five minutes.
Mama answered, “Yes, baby,” and her entire face smiled back at him.
When Jada stepped back into the room, Darius immediately relocated to his seat. Everyone was so silent, Darius heard air blowing through the vents.
“Darius, I need you to accompany our potential client, Mr. Barnes, on his business stops today. Shannon has his schedule.”
Damn. Why now? Mom knew he hated receiving a special assignment during an important meeting. Jada nodded, so he squared his shoulders and silently exited. Those bitches had better not say a word about what just happened.
Chapter 17
A
fter leaving work on his birthday, Darius dropped off Mr. Barnes and picked up his friend Kimberly Stokes. She was the type of woman who didn’t care if he phoned her the day after having sex or a month later. When he’d called her yesterday morning, she was en route to work.
“Hey, Kimberly. What’s up?” Darius used her whole name because Kimberly hated when people called her Kim. The first time he shortened her name, Kimberly had politely said, “If you’re too lazy to use the name my mother gave me, then don’t call me again.”
“Darius, baby, what’s up? I miss you, dawg.”
If a woman called a man a dog long enough, eventually he’d bark. Why was Darius really marrying Maxine? Better yet, why was Maxine marrying him? She knew he wasn’t faithful. The only commitment he’d ever kept was sitting courtside at the Lakers’ home games.
Although
dog
sounded sweet coming from Kimberly, Darius knew she had the 411 on his modus operandi. Having pledged Omega, he was a pure breed in more ways than one and had the brand on his left arm to prove it. But Kimberly didn’t trip, and that was what made her special. “Let’s hook up for a few hours for my birthday tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at five.”
“Sounds like a plan. Now, you know I’m going to use your credit card and shop my ass off today.” Kimberly had laughed.
“That’s my girl. See ya tomorrow.” Darius hung up the phone. Kimberly was generally upbeat and ready to go with a moment’s notice. If more women were like Kimberly, he’d be happier. Hell, they would, too. He didn’t mind wining and dining ladies, but he refused to pay for headaches when he got that crap for free. Willingly, he paid the monthly maximum on the platinum VISA account he’d opened in Kimberly’s name, because she kept him satisfied.
As he parked in front of his condo now, his cell phone vibrated. Looking at the display, he answered, “Hi, Mom.”
“Darius, where are you, sweetheart? I need you to stop by the house ASAP.”
Darius pulled his keys out of the ignition. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“No, it cannot,” she said firmly.
Picturing the expression on his mother’s face, Darius restarted his engine and said, “Fine, I’ll see you in a minute, but I have plans, so I can’t stay.” His mother lived on the same block, and they could have walked, but Darius didn’t waste any time since he had made plans with Maxine later that night.
“Thank you, sweetie.”
He heard the smile in her response. His mom was a trip. As long as she had her way, she was happy as hell. But when she didn’t, and things went his way, she made him feel guilty. Darius noticed she did the same with Lawrence and Wellington. Hanging up, he said to Kimberly, “I have to zip by my mom’s, but we won’t be there long.” Finally, somebody remembered it was his birthday.
“Cool.” Kimberly refastened her seat belt.
Zipping into the driveway, Darius parked and opened Kimberly’s door. Entering their home, he heard his mother call from the banquet room.
“Darius. I’m in here, darling.”
He didn’t want Kimberly standing in the spacious white marbled foyer alone, so he motioned for her to follow.
Click. Click. Click.
Kimberly’s red stilettos tapped on the tiles and dissipated into the carpet. Darius peeped his head into the dark room. “Mom?”
As the lights came on, everyone yelled, “Surprise!”
Oh, shit!
Michael Jackson didn’t have brighter lights during the Pepsi commercial when his hair caught on fire; Darius wanted to shift into reverse and moonwalk his ass back out the door. Like a vampire exposed to the sun, Darius covered his face and stood in the doorway. Slowly, he placed his hands by his sides. His head remained motionless as he viewed the well-known faces. Unfortunately, he knew too many of them intimately.
Maxine was dressed in a black strapless minidress. Savvy haircut. She must have gotten that done today. The style resembled the singer Eve’s, but he was pleased she hadn’t changed her natural black color, because that would have required a trip back to the salon. Maxine was outright edible. Her sensuous expression vanished when Kimberly stepped beside him and smiled as if the surprise were intended for her. Maxine clinched her teeth and stretched her cocoa brown, succulent lips so far Darius saw doubles. Thinking of which, two fingers of cognac would surely help right about now. Maxine’s eyes bulged and squinted at the same time as if to say, “Your ass had better be able to explain!” If looks could kill, he’d be in transit to ICU. But God must have blessed him with nine lives. Seven of which he’d already used. So at the speed of light, Darius closed his eyes and prayed for nine more.
Kimberly stood five feet, four inches. Slender and completely nude under a red leather coat that scarcely covered her voluptuous ass. Ah man, he hadn’t even licked her marshmallow nipples or seen the new strip dance she’d created as his gift. Darius had serious plans to finish what Kimberly had started while he drove on the freeway. An erection stirred in his pants just thinking about her pierced tongue. She’d seriously made him consider pulling over to side of the road. Now he wished he had an emergency exit lane to aid in his escape. Kimberly hid her body behind his and wrapped her arms around his waist. Electric sliding, Darius glided forward and broke Kimberly’s grip.
Walking over to Maxine, he said, “Hey, boo,” and quickly moved on before her mouth caught up with her wanting-to-destroy-him attitude.
The décor was on the mark. Wild magnolias were his favorite, and they were beautifully arranged throughout the room. If only he could lay Kimberly across the dessert table between the peach cobbler and chocolate mousse, he’d be satisfied for the moment.
“Hi, Dad.” Darius hugged Wellington.
Wellington tapped Darius on the shoulder and whispered, “Son, that Johnson of yours is going to get you in bigger trouble. I’m sleeping in the guest quarters tonight, so stop by and see me after you take Maxine home.” Wellington patted again.
There was his aunt, Jazzmyne. Funny how a woman could be married to a man, give birth to two children, and neither one was by her husband. Wellington had told him the story about how Jazzmyne’s father died not knowing she wasn’t his daughter. But at least Granddaddy Keith, who was Wellington and Jazzmyne’s real father, knew he had at least two. Even Darius’s children would have to take a paternity test. And thank God—from what Wellington had told him—Melanie and her twin, Stephanie, were not related to them.
“What’s up, Shelly? Brandon?” Those were Auntie Jazzmyne’s kids. Thank heavens Shelly was his cousin. Darius had standards and didn’t knowingly do family, no matter how far removed.
His mother’s best friend, Candice, was standing next to her husband, Terrell. Since acting worked out so well, Terrell had finally married Candice, and he retired from modeling. Said he was tired of being on the road all the time and was ready to have a few kids.
Then there was his stepfather, Lawrence. “Happy birthday, son.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
If things got too hectic, he could disappear out the back door and jog to his place. The remaining unwanted guests—Ginger, Zen, Miranda, and Heather—he evaded. Heather and Zen were cool, but it was going to take some serious explaining to Ginger and Miranda to convince them it wasn’t his fault. Latino women were far more dominating than sistahs. And the lie he’d have to tell Maxine, huge. Damn, what was his problem? He didn’t owe anyone an explanation, especially his fiancée.
That reminded Darius of the time Maxine had shown up at his condominium unannounced. It was her first time stepping out on the wild side, trying to be freaky. When he opened the door, there she stood flashing him. A black G-string was all she wore. She was hot. He was heated and tempted, but all Darius remembered saying before closing the door was, “I’m busy.” No one was there, but someone was on the way. If he allowed her to get away with that shit, she’d do it again. And that wasn’t happening. He wanted his future wife the way he’d met her, conservative. Darius could get a freak anytime he wanted. Maxine’s house was less than a block from his place and closer than that to his mother’s.
Jada gave him a big hug and whispered, “This is the last surprise party your mother will give you, darling. Darius, how could you?”
Darius held on to his mother and replied, “You should have told me. Look, Kimberly isn’t wearing any clothes under her coat.” Kimberly was now at the dessert table, talking with Maxine and swaying her ass to the classical music playing in the background.
“I’ll take care of her, Darius. You need to greet the rest of your guests.”
That was what he was afraid of. “Thanks, Mom,” Darius said as he kissed his mother on the cheek.
Jada graciously escorted Kimberly out of the room. Knowing he’d have another chance to taste that chocolate cream pie tonight, maybe he’d leave his party early and spend the night at Kimberly’s place. Darius bounced his head and did the Harlem Shake to P. Diddy’s “We Ain’t Goin’ No Where,” when what he really wanted was for everybody, except his family, to get the fuck out. His shoulders bounced up and down; first the left, then the right. His body joined the movement.
My Dear landed a huge kiss on his jaw. “How’s my favorite grandson?” Then My Dear did her version of the dance in slow motion, so Darius moved faster.
Laughing, Darius said, “I’m your only grandson.”
Darius missed his grandpa, Robert. He’d died three years ago of heart complications caused by his diabetes. The doctor had said if My Dear hadn’t changed Robert’s diet, he would have died a lot sooner. But all the years of unhealthy eating had caused irreversible damage to Robert’s heart and kidneys. My Dear had faithfully taken him for dialysis treatment. First once a week, then twice a week, and eventually the doctor had prescribed a home machine because Grandpa needed his treatment every day.
Never opening a single present, Darius briefly thanked his guests for coming. All of his women had left with the exception of Maxine. Two or three family members relocated to the pool.
“Darius, can I speak to you out front?” Maxine politely grinned with a fake smile because My Dear hadn’t left yet. Her tone indicated she was blazing mad. Just like his mom. The softer she spoke, the madder she was.
“Sure. Give me a minute, boo.”
Darius kissed My Dear good night and looked at his watch. Ten o’clock. He reflected on how much he appreciated Grandma’s protection, not only tonight, but all the time. It reminded Darius of his childhood when he knew his mother wanted to punish him for doing something he had no business doing, but whenever My Dear was near, Darius would run as fast as he could and lay his head in her lap. My Dear never failed him. Jada would say, “Just wait until we get back to L.A.” or “Wait until
your
My Dear leaves.”
Jada was kind, but when Darius pushed too far, she’d fiercely lash back. The verbal beating was worse than any whipping he could imagine. Each word would break him down until it was impossible to hold back his tears. Darius hated when his mother made him cry. Dealing with Maxine was a piece a cake. She’d never see him cry. Fortunately, his mother didn’t harbor bad feelings, because a day or so later she’d always apologize. Then she’d sit down with him and have a heart-to-heart talk. She actually helped him to become more understanding of women’s impulsive behaviors. But heaven help him if he screwed up and My Dear wasn’t around. That was his ass for sure.
Interrupting his thoughts, Maxine said, “Darius, who was that—”
“A friend. I was giving her a ride home and needed to stop here to pick up, um—”
“Darius, stop lying! I’m sick of your lies. You were planning on having sex with her and then with me in the same night!” Maxine was so courteous she wouldn’t curse him out like she should have.
“No, I wasn’t going to fuck you. No, I mean her. Look, Maxine. Do you.” Darius shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head.
“Do yourself.” Maxine took off her engagement ring and put it in her purse. “The wedding is off.”
Darius nodded. “Yeah, but you’re no fool. I see you tucked away the five Cs of ice. It’s yours. I’m not going to ask for it back.” That was unless she was serious.
“You would if you knew I started seeing Rodney again. And yes, we did make love. On your birthday because I knew something like this was going to happen
again
.” Maxine stood there with one hand on her hip and the other on her purse.
If his fathers hadn’t taught him never to hit a lady, her ass would be kissing the concrete right now. Darius was speechless. Pissed! Furious! How could she say that fucking shit to him? He knew she was lying, but the shit still hurt.
Maxine spoke softly. “Darius, I’ve stood by and watched you screw all these other women, yet you claim you love me.”
“I do.” Darius gently held Maxine’s hand.
Jerking away, Maxine said, “No, you don’t. You may want to, but I’m convinced you don’t know how. And I can’t take any more. I can’t change you. If that’s the life you want to live, then our engagement is off.”
“Okay. Then, give me back the ring.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t. This was the first time she’d crushed his ego.