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Authors: Mary B. Morrison

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BOOK: Never Again Once More
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Chapter 25
M
onday morning Darius proceeded with the usually scheduled executive meeting. His life was fucked up. The man he thought all his life to be his father, wasn’t. A basketball legend was his real dad. That just went to prove money didn’t make the man. Darryl could have helped his career into the pros instead of benching him, but his mother never said a word. Why now? Her lies were why she hadn’t come to any of his GT games. Darius balled up his fist. “This doesn’t make any sense.” The pound against the desk left an imprint in the black leather pad.
Marrying Maxine, all of sudden,
was
what he needed more than ever. No one had spared his feelings, and if he didn’t straighten up, eventually she’d turn on him, too. His mother would be out of the office for another week. That was enough time for him to annihilate her little conference. Vengeance was his. Darius arrived in the conference room fifteen minutes before his ten o’clock scheduled meeting.
The burgundy leather high-back chair where his mother usually sat was all his today. He stared at the tapestry on the wall until it became distorted. The colors resembled his past. Patches of blue for how he had suffered yesterday. Red. Anger. That was how he felt right now. Yellow. Sunshine. He’d had the best childhood. Green. Financially, he was set for life. Kudos. Wellington and his mother had done something right.
Ginger cleared her throat. “Darius, did you hear me? I said good morning.”
“Oh, yeah. Good morning,” Darius responded. His eyes were glazed and heavy with sadness. His heart was aching, but how could a Scorpio man express any outward signs of weakness. That was against DL. “Excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.”
Inside his restroom, he splashed cold water on his face, placed an Altoid underneath his tongue, and slapped on aftershave. “Aaahhhh. That’s more like it.” The cynical smile in the mirror awakened the personality he knew best. Darius briskly moved down the corridor to the conference room.
“Good morning, ladies. We really appreciated your support this past weekend. It meant a lot to the family. Thanks for the cards, flowers, expressions of sympathy, and for coming.”
“You’re more than welcome,” Ginger replied.
Everyone’s eyes followed his to Ginger. Then Darius picked up his Mont Blanc pen and jotted down,
That bitch will be the first to go!
The pressure applied at the exclamation point left a dent. “Ginger, Zen, Miranda, and Heather in that order, you know what to do.”
“Do we have to go over this again?” Heather protested. “What about the shortage of hotel rooms?”
“Yeah, and inadequate conference space,” Miranda followed with support.
“Ginger, I’m waiting.” Darius wrote
, Move Heather and Miranda ahead of Ginger.
Then he drew the head of a hangman. Naturally, the ones who didn’t have their shit together would be the first to object. By the time each of them gave an update, the hangman was dangling from the post.
“Zen, I want you to accompany me to New York tomorrow. We’re doing site visits for your locations.” Before Darius could finish, Ginger chimed in.
“Don’t you think
all
of us need to go?” Ginger questioned.
“Ginger, make that your last time interrupting me,” Darius continued.
“Miranda, you’ll meet me on Wednesday. Heather. Thursday. Ginger. Friday. Bring your project managers with you. Shannon will make your arrangements. Meeting adjourned.” Darius stood and walked out of the room. Again he’d saved the best for last. Ginger could stay the weekend in Manhattan with him if she wanted. He’d dehumanize them one at a time in more ways than one.
Bouncing back to his office, Darius decided Ginger couldn’t stay. She’d talk marriage the entire time, and he planned on never making a commitment. Not with her anyway. Ashlee could come instead. He needed someone who’d listen to his problems. Soon as he walked into his office, Shannon buzzed.
“Yes,” Darius answered.
“Maxine is on the phone,” Shannon replied.
“Okay.” After Maxine had left the morning after his birthday party, Darius had ignored her calls all weekend because he’d spent his time with Kimberly. Not responding to Maxine’s voicemail messages the following week hadn’t helped, either. Then he’d virtually ignored her at his grandmother’s funeral. “Hi, boo. How are you?”
“Terrible. I’m worried about our relationship. Darius, we need to talk.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised; he seldom returned her calls. That was how he’d treated her when they first started dating. Things hadn’t and weren’t going to change. Deal with it or leave. Whenever he required time to think, he didn’t want to listen to some female chattering in his ear. “I have a lot of shit on my mind. That’s all. Let me make it up to my boo next week.”
“Next week? I have to wait an entire week just to speak with you face-to-face?” Maxine’s annoying whine reminded him why he hadn’t returned any of her calls.
“Look, you know I have to run the company. I’m leaving for New York tonight. I’ll be back Sunday evening. I’ll take you to dinner. You make the reservations.” Dinner was out of the question. Darius would be too tired, but at least it would minimize their discussion today.
“Well, in case you were planning a rendezvous, I thought I should let you know.” Maxine began to sob continuously. Suddenly she was gasping for air.
“Let me know what?” Darius whispered.
Maxine wasn’t that sensitive. What did he do?
“I really need to see you, Darius,” Maxine pleaded.
Good try, but not today. “I’ll call you when I get back. We can talk then.” Darius hung up the phone and keyed his new schedule into his palm pilot.
Shannon buzzed again. “Ginger would like to see you.”
“Uuuuhhhh. Send her in.” Darius powered off his palm pilot.
Ginger’s perfume arrived before she did. Ginger sat. One leg overlapped the other as she swiveled in the chair. Her nails tapped on his desk. “So why separate dates?”
“You can excuse yourself. Close the door on your way out.” Darius stood and loosely folded his arms as he moved over to her and peered down.
“Okay. I apologize. Don’t be so touchy. Can I see you tonight?” Now Ginger was close enough for him to feel her breasts touching his wrists as she stood and slowly brushed up against him.
Damn. His dick said, “Yes.” But the words, “I don’t have time,” came out.
“So do you have time now?” Ginger’s tongue traced her full lips which were covered with a clear gloss outlined in bronze.
“New lipstick color. Looks good.” He lowered his left eyebrow. Darius hesitated as Ginger walked over and locked his door. Then she moved over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. As she brushed her face against his white shirt, Darius made a mental note to change it. Like his mother, he faithfully kept a change of clothes in his office.
The unzipping of his pants made his penis expand. His head stuck out the top of his white silk boxers. Ginger maneuvered to get the goodies. Her pink tongue circled around the tip several times. Then she slipped it into her warm mouth. Darius looked down. He couldn’t believe his eyes because Ginger had never sexed him in the office. Maybe Ginger was trying to secure her position. His cellular phone rang. Ginger didn’t stop. She looked up at him. He hated that. “Don’t watch me watch you,” he wanted to say. Instead, he cupped his hands on Ginger’s head and redirected her focus. It was probably Maxine calling back. The sex felt so good Darius refused to budge.
“Awk,” Ginger gagged and pointed at her mouth as she headed to his restroom.
“Sorry,” Darius said, moving out of her way.
Darius tucked in his Johnson and zipped up his pants. When Ginger stepped out, he walked in. “I’ll be out in a second.” Darius washed his privates and changed his suit. He opened the door, looked around, but Ginger was nowhere in sight. Good.
Glancing at his palm pilot, he turned it off. But hadn’t he powered it off already? The red message light flashed on his cell phone. Darius hit the message button. Punched in his code.
“Darius, this is Maxine.”
“Duh,” Darius said as Maxine’s trembling voice continued.
“I wanted to tell you face-to-face, but since you don’t have time to see me . . .” Maxine sniffled. “I just received a call from Rodney, and he’s HIV positive. And so am I.”
Darius stared out of his corner office window. First Darryl. Now this. What was next? He slammed his phone to the floor so hard the battery pack popped out. Darius grabbed his keys.
“Shannon, I’ll be back in about two hours.”
“Okay, have a nice lunch,” Shannon said.
All kinds of thoughts invaded his mind. Darius did ninety-five on the freeway whenever he could. Then he zigzagged between cars. Parking behind Maxine’s PT Cruiser, he got out of his car, hit the lock button on his remote, and walked to the door. He rang the bell.
“Hi, Mrs. Moore. Is Maxine home?” Darius was too upset to fake a warm hug, so he stood erect.
“It’s a pleasant surprise seeing you here. Come on in. Maxine is in her room. She’s not feeling well. She won’t tell me what’s bothering her, but I’m sure seeing you will cheer her up.”
“Thanks.” Darius walked upstairs and knocked on Maxine’s door.
“Come in.”
When he walked in, she hurriedly hung up the phone. Darius closed the door. “Who was that? Rodney?”
“Darius, I didn’t want you to find out that way.” Maxine sat on the padded vanity stool and faced him.
Pacing back and forth, Darius stopped in front of her and said, “So you’re serious about this HIV?”
“I wouldn’t lie about something like this.”
As his backhand descended toward Maxine’s face, Darius halted. What if she was infected? He might contract the disease, too, if her blood mixed with his. “So you fucked Rodney? Is that what you’re telling me!”
Scurrying to her bedroom door, Maxine opened it. “Yes, I did. I told you I had.”
Thinking about the fruit salad and how he’d eaten Maxine inside out after his party, Darius threw up on her Persian rug. “Give me back my ring, and I don’t ever want to see you again.” Was that the same way Darryl had treated his mom?
“But, Darius,” Maxine pleaded.
“But Darius nothing! Give me my fucking ring, Maxine!” Darius retrieved his handkerchief and wiped his mouth.
“Fine!” Maxine removed the ring and hummed it at his head. “I’ll report all of those Jezebels you work with, too, because I know you’re sleeping with all of them! I hate you, Darius Jones!”
“Hate yourself.” Catching his ring in midair, Darius walked over to the door. “I’m so angry right now, Maxine, I don’t even need a reason to beat your ass or anybody else’s. You’ve already given me two. One, you cheated on me. Two, you fucked a mutherfucker who’s HIV positive. Strike three, Maxine, and I will lay your ass to rest.” Darius rushed past Mrs. Moore on his way downstairs. “And bitches have the audacity to call us dogs.”
Chapter 26
“L
ook, Simone, I’ve heard enough. Get your purse and let’s go.” If Simone didn’t leave soon, Wellington would be late picking up Jada.
“I told you he wasn’t your son. Just admit that I was right and you were wrong, and I’ll leave.” Simone followed Wellington into his bedroom.
“I have one better,” Wellington said, putting on a splash of cologne. “Darius is my son. So are you prepared to let Jada meet Junior?”
“Hell, no! You’d better not bring Junior anywhere near her lying ass. My son is not related to her or Darius.”
“Don’t sit down on my bed. Let’s go. And what do you mean your son?” Wellington had already decided Jada could meet Junior whenever she wanted because Junior was his son, too.
“Where’re you going?” Simone sat back on the bed, looked at her watch, and said, “Why are you all dressed up and smelling good and it’s not even eleven o’clock?”
“That’s why I divorced you, remember? For the last time, Simone, let’s go.” Wellington left her sitting on the bed and went downstairs. The last time she played this game, he’d locked her in his house and gone to Los Angeles for five days. She’d unsuccessfully tried to break his advance security system by calling the police, but they wouldn’t assist her. Instead, they had phoned him and he’d simply advised them Simone could leave whenever she was ready. If Simone hadn’t been so upset the whole time, she actually knew him well enough to have figured out the code was Diamond.
Simone stumped down each step. Wellington escorted her to her car and drove off in his Bentley. Parking in front of Mrs. Ruby’s house, Wellington lowered the volume on his radio and said, “Dial.”
His automated female voice system responded, “Who?”
Wellington responded, “Darius.”
The system replied, “One moment please.”
“Hello,” Darius answered.
“Hey. I thought I’d call and check on you. How’re you doing, son?”
“As well as could be expected. I’m headed to New York tomorrow to manage a site visit for the conference.”
“You know burying yourself in work is not going to take away the pain. Hey, maybe we should take a trip. Just the two of us.” Perhaps if they were alone, Darius would confront and stop suppressing his true feelings, instead of staying mad at everyone. The last time they traveled together, Darius had been seventeen.
“Thanks, but no. I can handle this. Really.”
“I know you’re still upset, but think about seeing your brother while you’re in New York.” Having two older brothers could be good for Darius if he’d get to know them.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You the man.” After Jada’s confession, Wellington clearly understood why she’d prematurely promoted Darius. “I’ll check on you tomorrow. Bye, son. I love you.”
“Yeah, I know. I love you, too. I’ll catch you later, old man.” Darius paused, then said, “Hey.”
“I’m listening,” Wellington responded.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” Wellington said.
“Bye.” Darius hung up the phone.
Going up to the house, Wellington rang the bell three times and waited about sixty seconds. When he released his phone from his waist holder, Jada opened the door.
“Come on in,” she said, walking away.
Wellington followed her. “You ready?”
“If you are,” Jada responded. “Let me get my purse.”
“Whoa. You know I have to ask. What’s up with all the gray?” Jada was dressed in all gray: boots, denims, and a waist-high sweater with no bra. “You hate that color, but, ba, it looks great on you,” Wellington said.
“It’s my mourning color. I didn’t want to wear black, and since I hate that my mother’s gone, this was the best color to coincide with my feelings.”
Women made the simplest things complicated. “So have you eaten at Cioppino’s?”
“No,” Jada said, without exhibiting any curiosity.
Despite the fact that Melanie had introduced him to the place, Cioppino’s had become one of Wellington’s preferred Italian restaurants. Wellington drove to San Francisco and parked at the Mission and Fifth Street garage. Sunshine and crisp breezes greeted them.
“We can take the Powell and Hyde Streets trolley from Market Street. Hopefully, Saturday lunchtime isn’t too busy. Besides, it’s a beautiful day,” Wellington said. By taking the trolley, he could avoid Pier 39, because they had shared too many memories there. Most of them good, but it was also the place where they had last dined prior to breaking up.
When they reached the San Francisco Maritime National Historic Park at Beach and Hyde, a tall black man dressed in a brown uniform announced, “Okay, folks this is the end of the line. Everyone must get off. My trolley, that is.”
Wellington laughed, but most of the tourists didn’t. They started snapping pictures of the driver as he pulled the cord sounding the bell. Jada had been quiet since they had left the house. Wellington glanced around. What were the odds they would run into Melanie? He jumped off the car and helped Jada.
Walking downhill toward Jefferson Street, Wellington asked, “How’s Lawrence?”
“Huh. What? Oh, he’s fine. Working, I guess,” Jada said.
Okay, no more Lawrence questions. They crossed the street, turned right, and as they walked another block, Wellington put his arm around Jada’s waist. “What do I have to do to perk you up?”
“Bring back my mother. Make up for the twenty years Darius didn’t know Darryl. I really don’t want to eat. My stomach hurts,” Jada said, folding her arms under her sweater.
“But you need to eat something, so let’s go inside.”
“Why do you keep looking around? Are you expecting someone?” Jada asked.
“Of course not, ba.” Damn, was he that obvious? He’d better stop being paranoid. Why had he brought her to Melanie’s place anyway?
“Table for two?” the young Italian girl asked.
“Can we sit outside?” Jada asked.
Before Wellington could protest, the hostess grabbed two menus, a wine list, and said, “Sure.”
Wellington pulled out the black wrought-iron chair and pushed it under Jada. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He dashed across the street and paid the artist to paint a portrait of them dining. Then he slipped into Cartoon World and purchased a small stuffed Tweetie Bird and raced back to their table.
As their waiter approached, Wellington placed the Looney Tunes bag on the yellow cement plant holder next to their table.
“May I take your drink orders?”
Looking at her nametag, Wellington asked, “Suzie, is Danté bartending?”
“As a matter of fact, he is.” Suzie smiled.
“Then, we’ll have two Danté specials.” Jada needed to loosen up a bit. Danté’s potent mix reminded Wellington of Pat O’Brien’s hurricanes in the New Orleans French Quarters.
“Certainly. I’ll be back to take your orders in a minute.” Suzie checked on the table by the door, then went inside.
“Ba, stay another week. Darius can handle the office.” One more week away from her office wouldn’t hurt. Wellington wanted Jada to never leave, but seven extra days would be nice.
“I’ll think about it. That’s the only thing he’ll talk to me about is business.” The left side of Jada’s mouth twitched. Her cellular phone rang. She flipped it open, looked at the ID, closed it, and put it back in her purse.
“I spoke with Darius a few moments ago. He’ll be fine. He has to digest what’s happening.”
“Yeah, and then figure out how he’s going to dominate the situation,” Jada commented.
Toot. Toot.
Wellington hurriedly twisted his head, then grabbed his neck as he shifted in his chair. A car rolled up so close to the curb he could almost shake hands with the passenger without moving from his table.
“Hey! How are you guys doing?”
Whew! His chest rose and fell as he wiped his forehead. “Hey, Wendy. Where’s Walter?” Wellington said, trying to play it cool. Walter was still his best friend, and Wendy was still happily married to that square brother.
“At work. Hi, Jada. You’re looking good, girl. See you guys later.” Wendy waved as they drove away.
“Are you sure you’re not expecting someone?” Jada asked.
“Positive.” So what if Melanie showed up. He no longer cared. Wellington took a deep breath and relaxed.
Danté walked outside carrying their drinks with a huge grin. “My man. What’s up? Haven’t seen you in a while. You look great as always. If you need a refill, let me know. And tell my girl Melanie I said hello.”
Jada’s eyes were focused on the silverware until Danté mentioned that name.
“Since you’ve bared your soul, how about I do the same? That way we can both either feel like shit or be relieved.”
Jada’s hazel eyes looked up at Wellington. “I’m listening.”
“The reason you haven’t met Junior is because Simone doesn’t want him around you.” Wellington weaved the white linen napkin between his fingers.
Jada sucked in air. “What! Why didn’t you tell me this? Why not?”
“I just didn’t think you’d understand.” Wellington shook his head. “Plus, I was trying to establish my own position. But I’ve decided you can meet him whenever you’d like. I can bring him by before you leave.”
Suzie walked up. “Ready to order?”
“We’ll both have calamari salads on baby greens. The lady would like the grilled salmon filet. Are they really caught locally?” Wellington was making small talk to delay his confession.
“They sure are.” Suzie smiled. “What else would you like?”
“I’ll have the whole Dungeness crab with homemade pasta.” Wellington motioned for Suzie to come closer and whispered in her ear. “I slipped Danté a small paper bag. Take the item, cover it in a pile of chocolate mousse, and bring it to us for dessert.”
Suzie smiled and walked away, then soon returned with their salads.
“Is there anything else you didn’t think I’d understand?” Jada asked.
“Yes, Melanie and I have managed to remain friends over the years. That’s why I was looking around, because sometimes we eat here. And,” he paused, “the triplets she was carrying weren’t mine.”
“I don’t believe this.” Jada picked at her calamari. “And what about your divorce?”
Hunching his shoulders, Wellington responded, “What about it?”
“Why does she refer to herself as your wife?” The fork poked in and out of her baby greens.
“Oh, don’t pay any attention to Melanie. You know how she is.”
“I don’t believe you! How could you not tell me after all this time?” Jada said, pushing away from the table.
“How could I what? Lie for twenty years and expect everyone to pardon me?” Wellington stared at Jada. She couldn’t seriously be mad at him.
“That’s a cheap shot, but you’re right.” Jada reposition her chair. “I’m going back to L.A. next week. I have some unfinished business I need to take care of.”
“That’s a good idea.” Go. He’d expected her to say that because she always ran away from her personal problems. Maybe she’d feel guilty and let him taste her tonight.
When Suzie brought their orders, Wellington fed Jada from his plate and ate off of hers.
Jada dipped Wellington’s finger into the butter and sucked it off. The tightening of her jaws rushed familiar memories to both of his heads. Wellington shivered and noticed Jada’s nipples were protruding. His penis responded in kind. “Damn, Lawrence is a lucky man.” His heart rate quickened, remembering how The Ruler clamped perfectly between her breasts and measured the distance deep inside Jada’s throat.
“I have a question I’ll probably regret asking,” Jada said.
“Then, don’t ask.” Wellington dipped Jada’s finger in the sauce again and opened his mouth.
Jada spread the butter on his nose. “Did you and Melanie ever have—”
Wiping his face with his napkin, Wellington said, “A threesome with someone else?”
Jada nodded.
“You’re right. You don’t want to know.” Wellington continued eating his crab.
“Do you think that’s where we went wrong?” Jada asked.
“I thought about that for years. And my answer was consistently no. This is the best crab.” Wellington took a lump of meat and fed Jada.
“Then”—Jada paused so she could chew—“what do you think?”
“To me there were a number of reasons: lack of trust, friendship, love. Those are the things we didn’t have then, but we have them now, with the exception of trust.”
“You don’t trust me?” Jada frowned.
“I’ll take the fifth. But I will say that’s why you never came back to me. Your lack of trust and honesty made you insecure, and true love and friendship can’t survive the test of time without honesty and trust.”
BOOK: Never Again Once More
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