Queen of His Heart (20 page)

“See?” she complained. “What's the point of having a dog this big if it don't do shit?” She stared at the dog and stomped her foot. “Cujo, I said attack! He hurt your momma, now
attack!
”

Apparently those were the magic words because suddenly the dog started a low growl in his throat.
Woof! Woof! Grrr!
His lips rolled up and revealed his long, pearly-white canine teeth.

Keenan blinked in surprise and then backed out of the house. “All right. All right.” He reached for the door and slammed it closed. So much for being on the dog's good side.

“Now
that's
what I'm talking about,” Martina praised and then held up her hand.

Fantasia smacked her a high five. “That most definitely deserves a doggy biscuit,” she told Cujo and they all headed toward the kitchen.

 

Outside the door, a frustrated Keenan paced outside and then glanced up. He knew what he had to do.

 

Jalila hadn't dozed for more than a few minutes when something caught her ear. She peeled back the
top sheet expecting to see Martina and Fantasia returning with a breakfast tray. Instead what she saw was Keenan climbing through her bedroom window.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” she said, bolting upright in bed.

“At the moment, I'm risking my neck trying to see you.” He stood up and shut the window.

“I gotta start locking that damn thing,” she hissed.

Keenan rushed over to the bedroom door.

“Now what—”

“I don't want us to be disturbed and those damn Gestapo guards and aptly named dog you have downstairs would like nothing more than to have my hide if they see me up here.”

“Good—because I don't want to talk to you, so you can just climb right back out of here.”

“Shh. Shh.” He locked the door.

“Get out!”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“I don't want to hear anything you have to say.”

“Will you please calm down and listen?”

“I'm going to call the cops if you don't get out of my house.”

“Please, Jalila. You have to listen to me. I found out what happened last night and there's a huge misunderstanding.” He rushed toward the bed.

She scrambled backward and jumped out the opposite side of the bed. “You get away from me. I'm not interested. Just get out of here and go back to your wife.”

“I'm not married.”

“Then your ex-wife!”

“There's nothing happening between me and Tenetria.”

“Ri-i-ight. That's why every time I see her she's either spilling out of her clothes at your office or answering your door in Victoria's Secret.” She shook her head. “I was sooo stupid. I didn't even ask you about your relationship with her after the last time. You had me so damn sex-crazy I couldn't think straight.”

“Look, that's just Tenetria's way of starting trouble. She's manipulative and borderline crazy.”

“I don't want to hear it.”

“C'mon, Jalila. I wasn't even there last night. I had a meeting that lasted well past midnight and then I came here, but you weren't here.”

“That's not what she said. She said that you two were
busy. Busy!
And that she would tell you I stopped by just as soon as you two were finished doing whatever it is you two do.” Tears swelled in her eyes. “Get out.”

“I'm telling you the truth, Jalila.”

“Get! Out!”

Martina's voice drifted from outside the bedroom door. “Jalila, what's going on in there?” The doorknob rattled. “Why is the door locked? Jalila, what's going on? Is there someone in there with you?”

Keenan and Jalila ignored her friends trying to break into the bedroom. Instead, Jalila glared at Keenan while his gaze implored her.

“I mean it, Keenan. It's over. I don't ever want to see you again. Now please—leave.”

“Jalila—”

“Martina,” she shouted. “Call the police.”

“I'm on it.”

Keenan blinked in surprise. “All right. Have it your way,” he said, finally giving up. “Goodbye.” Instead of going back out the window, Keenan walked out of her bedroom door, with his head held high and his back straight.

Jalila watched with tear-brimming eyes and a broken heart.

“H
e's in love?” Keisha said, astonished. “He actually said that?”

Nitara drew a deep breath and nodded. “The only problem is that Jalila doesn't want to have anything to do with him—or us—or the show.”

Keisha lowered herself into the empty chair in front of Nitara's desk. She still couldn't believe it. “So that's why he's been so moody lately.” She smiled. “It all makes perfect sense.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn't do him any good if he can't be with the one he loves.”

“Well, did he tell her that he loved her?”

Nitara shrugged. “I don't know. He refuses to talk about what happened when he went over there.”

“When was this?”

“Three days ago. He hasn't been in the office since. I'm still stalling on what to tell the network.”

Keisha frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. “We gotta fix this.”

“We?” Nitara said. “How in the hell are
we
supposed to do that?”

Keisha mulled this situation over. “I know there has to be some way. Sounds to me like we've just got to convince Jalila that nothing is going on between Keenan and your evil sister.”

“Hey,” Nitara whined.

“What? It's true,” Keisha said.

“I know, but—” Nitara shrugged. “She's still blood.”

Keisha rolled her eyes. “So were Cain and Abel. What's your point?”

“All right. All right.” The women fell silent.

“Well, I give up.” Keisha tossed up her hands. “I don't know how to get them together. This is all just one big mess.”

Just then, Dee Dee knocked and entered the office. “Ms. Murphy, I have ABC on line one. They're insisting they speak with either you or Keenan.”

Nitara expelled a long frustrated sigh. “Tell them that we're both out at the moment.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Nitara's gaze zoomed back to Keisha. “This whole thing could ruin us.”

“You know if I wasn't already engaged I could have replaced her.” Keisha beamed and then flashed Nitara her sparkling diamond.

“I heard about that. Congratulations! When's the big day?”

“We haven't decided yet. Probably in about six months. I know you're coming to my engagement party, right?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world. I hope by then I've figured out something to prevent this company from going bankrupt.”

“Is it that bad?”

“It's that bad. At this point, Jalila is the only one who can save Keenan both professionally and personally.”

 

For three days Jalila stayed in bed, nursing her broken heart. However, her woe-is-me phase was stretching her friends' patience thin. Martina insisted with more frequency that it was time for her to pull herself out of bed, dust herself off and get back into the game. Those things were always easier said than done, and usually by people who had no idea what they were talking about.

Wanting to share this vast void with herYouTube subscribers, Jalila pulled out her camcorder. But when she hit Record all she could do was to stare into the camera lens and allow tears to roll down her face. No words. Just the naked reality of what a broken heart looked like.

This level of devastation for someone she hardly knew really didn't make that much sense. She knew that—she got that. Still, there was something more that bonded her to Keenan that defied logic. Their story wasn't a love-at-first-sight scenario. Heck, she'd been turned off when he'd approached her at Las Brisas.
Their story—her love for him—had started the night of that first kiss. That dance on the back porch while listening to the Fugees.

“Aaarrrggghhh!” Jalila buried her head under the pillows and tried to will herself into an animated state.

Cujo was tired of her just lying around. Wanting to get out and play, he'd brought everything from Frisbees to tennis balls to her room and dropped them by the bed, but Jalila had just rolled over and ignored him. Now he was nudging her with his cold nose and pulling the sheets off her.

“Will you cut it out?” Jalila snapped, snatching the covers back.

He whined as if she'd hurt his feelings, but Jalila had long known that Cujo had been a dramatic actor in a former life, so she didn't take the bait. When he raided her closet and dropped a pair of Nike running shoes on her head, she gave up.

“All right. All right. I'm getting up!” Jalila bolted out of bed. After she'd had a quick shower and thrown on some clean clothes, she grudgingly admitted that she did feel a
little
better. She still wasn't entirely ready to return to work, but she drove Cujo to a park and played with him for a while.

An hour of tossing a Frisbee around had a positive effect on Jalila's spirits. “Okay. So you were right about getting me out of the house,” she said to Cujo, rewarding him with a few treats before heading back to her car. Feeling as though she was back among the living, she returned home and called her best friends to see if they were up for a late lunch at Las Brisas.

Once at their favorite table, Martina announced, “I said it once and I'll say it again. You can't keep your kitty-kat locked up too long. This whole thing could have been avoided if you were walking the cat on a regular basis. Now you're sprung, you think you're in love and we got to try to talk you off a ledge.”

Fantasia dropped her fork. “You just open your mouth and any damn thing falls out. What the hell is with this kitty-kat stuff?”

Unfazed, Martina brushed her Barney purple-colored hair back from her shoulders. “Again. Don't get mad at me because I drop knowledge on the regular. Okay?” She returned her attention to Jalila. “What you're going through right now is just withdrawal. When…little sister—” She glanced at Fantasia and asked, “Is that p.c. enough for you?” Her purple head whipped back around. “Anyway. When
little sister
comes out of hibernation and then gets hook on some real potent
black steel
then you're like a crackhead looking for a hit. You're thrown off your game. You can't get your mind right. Classic symptoms of dick withdrawal.”

“Martina!” Fantasia stomped her foot.

“What? Why are you always trying to shut me down? Let's face facts. Jalila and Keenan went on
one
date and the rest of the time they were screwing like jackrabbits. Now I ain't saying I blame you. Mr. Hollywood had it going on, but he straight played you—not once but twice. Do you listen to me? Nah, you gonna let the brotha creep back into your house—through the window. Now ain't that some mess? I still can't believe his ass did some Spiderman shit like that.”

Jalila snickered as she nibbled on her Cobb salad. As she listened to her girl, it hurt her to admit that she brought up some very valid points.

“Let me ask you something,” Martina said. “Do you still think you're in love with him?”

Defensive, Jalila folded her arms and struggled for an answer.

Frustrated, Fantasia waved a finger in Martina's face. “One of these days you're going to see how it feels. You're always just spouting all this nonsense.”

“Who, me, get played?” Martina's purple hair bounced around her swiveling neck. “Naw, partna. It ain't happening. I make sure I stay two steps ahead of the catch-and-release game.”

“What the hell is the catch-and-release game?” Fantasia and Martina asked in unison.

“You're kidding, right?”

Jalila and Fantasia glanced at each other.

“Very simple, ladies. Listen up.” Martina waited until she had their full attention. “It's just what it says. You
catch
the dick and, when you're finished with it, you
release
the dick. If you want, you can write it down.”

Jalila and Fantasia cracked up.

“I'm serious,” Martina said. “Repeat after me, catch the dick…”

Jalila and Fantasia laughed and shook their heads.

“C'mon, class. Repeat after me,” Martina insisted. “Catch the dick.”

“Catch the…dick.” They giggled.

“And release the dick,” Martina finished with the flurry of an orchestra conductor.

When Jalila finished laughing, she wiped tears from her face and was genuinely happy that she had met her friends for lunch. “Okay. Since you're teaching us today, what do you propose I do?”

Martina picked up her wineglass and leaned back in her chair. “Do you
really
want to know?”

“You might want to think about this,” Fantasia mumbled.

Jalila shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Lay it on me.”

Martina's smile turned wicked. “All right. I think it's time for a little retribution.”

Jalila frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it's time that you learn how to fuck like a man. Dish out the same BS they do.”

“What? She's supposed to go out and screw every man she sees—and that's supposed to prove something?”

“Not
every
man, but one in particular.”

Jalila's and Martina's eyes locked.

Fantasia intervened. “No! No way. She just got rid of that jerk. Are you crazy?”

Martina shook her head. “No. What she did was let him get away with it. The only way you're going to get over this guy
quickly
is to take back the power you gave him. Once you do that then you can get on with your life.”

“Don't listen to her,” Fantasia said to Jalila. “You're doing good. You're out of bed and out and about. You'll go back to work soon and you can put this whole thing behind you.”

Jalila ignored Fantasia while her gaze remained leveled with Martina's. “What would I have to do?”

Martina's smile returned as she gingerly sipped from her wineglass. “If I was you, I'd bust out that coat and high heels again. But remember—the whole point is to do this and then walk away. Keep your heart
out
of it.”

 

Keenan was a wreck. He tried to deny it—to himself and then to everyone else, but they, like him, weren't buying it. Chips picked up his master's agitated state and started to stage his own form of retribution by giving him the cold shoulder. When Keenan came home, Chips refused to greet him with his usual vigor, electing instead to remain perched on his velveteen dog pillow in the dining room and ignoring him.

After three days, Keenan finally noticed that when he set Chips's dinner out, he didn't jump up and attack the bowl as was his habit. Figuring that he needed to entice the dog, Keenan retrieved some of his favorite treats from the cabinets and tried to coax him to the bowl.

Chips just hung his head low and covered his eyes with his front paws.

“What's the matter, boy? Are you sick?” Keenan asked with genuine concern. The last thing Keenan felt like doing was dragging his two-hundred-pound dog to the vet.

Ding-dong!

Keenan groaned and stood up from Chips's doggy bed. “All right. If you don't eat, I'll have to take you to the doctor and you know how much you hate needles and getting things shoved up your butt.”

Chips whined.

Ding-dong!

“I'm coming. I'm coming.” Keenan rushed to the front door only to have his day go from bad to worse.

Tenetria stood on the other side glaring at him. “You think your ass is slick, don't you?”

Keenan folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. “I take it that you're having a little problem with your check?”

“You stopped payment. I could sue you,” she hissed. “It's against the law to write bad checks.”

“And I could have you arrested for breaking and entering and then blackmailing me.”

“I didn't blackmail you. I sold information.
Big
difference.”

“Goodbye, Tenetria.” Keenan stepped back and started to close the door.

Tenetria thrust out her hand in an attempt to block it from slamming in her face. “Keenan—”

“Tenetria,” Keenan growled, his temper at long last exploding. “You have no idea how hard it is for me not to just snap you in half. It's not good enough that you had to ruin my life once, but you had to drop in five years later to do it again.”

Tenetria jabbed her hands on her hips. “And people say that
I'm
always overly dramatic.”

Keenan took a threatening step forward. “You have no idea what you've done to me—what you've cost me. And I'm not talking about money—though that's all you operate on.”

Tenetria's gaze narrowed suspiciously. “What—is your little girlfriend mad at you? Is that what you're so upset about?”