Too little too late, p.10
Too Little, Too Late, page 10
“Ouch,” he said, feigning injury. “That’s not the way you’re supposed to say yes.”
“You got butter all over my engagement ring!”
He laughed. She cried. Together they slipped the ring on her finger. And then as Ali McGraw explained love and sorrys to Ryan O’Neal, she had kissed him, then ripped his pants off and told him yes with every part of her body…
Hosea bounced from the bed. It made no sense, the way he kept thinking about his past. He was over her, of that he was sure. He loved Jasmine, he was even surer of that. So why all these memories?
He needed relief and grabbed his cell phone.
“Hey, babe.”
Just the sound of his wife brought his heart back to where it was supposed to be. “Calling to check on you, darlin’. How’s my pumpkin?”
“Jacquie is worn out. She’s asleep.”
“It’s just six. You’d better wake her up or she’ll have you up all night.”
“I hope she does. Playing with her tonight will keep me from missing you. So, what’re you doing?”
“Nothing much.”
“You’re supposed to say that you’re thinking about me.”
He remembered the thoughts he’d had just moments before. “I’m always thinking about you.”
“That’s better.” She laughed. “Did Wendy get there yet?”
“Ah, no. All of that will arrive in the morning.”
“All of that?” He heard the frown in her voice.
“You know what I mean, all the notes, etcetera. Have you eaten yet?” He needed to change the subject to stop his lies.
“Yup, just a salad. I’m really serious about losing this weight. What about you, have you eaten?”
The knock made him say, “Hold on a sec.” He scooted across the room and pulled the door open.
“Surprise!” Natasia stood with her hands in the air as if she’d just jumped out of a cake.
“Babe, who’s that?”
That quickly, he’d forgotten the cell phone he held. “Just room service.”
Natasia’s eyebrows rose as she brushed past him into the room.
“I’ll call you back, okay?” He clicked the phone off without giving Jasmine any more.
Natasia swiveled around to face him. “So, I’m room service now, huh?” She grinned. “That could be a good thing.”
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t share her cheer.
She frowned. “Brittney said she told you about the mix-up.”
“I know about all of that.” His hands moved in the air with his words. “But what are you doing here…now? I thought you were coming in the morning.”
“That was the plan, but when I thought about it, this is an important meeting. We need to be prepared.”
“We could have done this in the morning.”
“Last-minute preparations are not what won me all those Emmys. We’re going to do this right. In fact, I was thinking about a new angle. Let’s make this a full-hour news show, Dateline style. Make this entire episode about Dr. Marshall and Street Soldiers. We’ll film his facilities, do B roll on his radio show. We’re in Hollywood. Let’s make this show look like it.”
He stared at her for a moment. “So that’s why you’re here?” His tone thickened the air with tension.
“Yes.” She looked right back into his eyes, daring him to doubt her. When he asked nothing more, she said, “I gave up a lot to be here. But my job comes before everything. Okay?”
It took him a moment to let it go. “Okay.”
“So what do you think of my idea?”
He breathed, relieved. She’d gone right back to business. Surely, this wasn’t any kind of trick. “Sounds good. What’re you talking about specifically?”
“I have lots of ideas.” She glanced around the room and then stared at the bed where he’d been moments before, thinking about her.
“Ah…have you eaten?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I guess you haven’t either. You’re waiting for room service, right?”
“Let’s go downstairs,” he said, ignoring her words. “We can talk in the restaurant.”
“Or we can talk here and really order room service, and,” she paused, sat on the edge of the bed, crossed her legs, “we can…eat…right here.”
“Let’s go downstairs, Natasia,” he said stiffly.
She bounced from the bed, laughed. “I’m teasing, Hosea.” She pouted. “You used to be more fun.”
“Never when it came to business. Where’re the files?”
“In my room.” She grinned. “Wanna come with me?”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Okay, give me five.”
He tried not to watch her jean-covered hips as she moved in front of him. When the door closed, he breathed. She’d asked for five minutes, but he needed more like ten.
Finally it was all about business.
For hours they read and debated. Formulated their plan. And in between, they snacked on hot wings, quesadillas, and potato skins.
Hosea leaned back in his chair and glanced at his watch. “I cannot believe it’s almost eleven.” He signaled the waiter to bring him another soda.
Natasia picked up a wing and took a small bite. “Yep, but we’re ready.”
“Definitely.” He grinned, but stopped smiling when his cell rang. Flipping his phone open, he turned his body slightly away from the table. “Talk to me.”
“Hey, babe. You were supposed to call me back.”
“I’m sorry. I’m down in the restaurant, still working.”
“With Wendy? I thought she was coming in the morning?”
He paused, glanced sideways at Natasia as she sipped her wine. “Wendy’s not here. I’m just eating and working and…“He closed his eyes, not believing how easy it was to keep the truth from his wife. “So, did you have a good night?”
“As good as it can be without you.”
Hosea glanced at Natasia once again. Her eyes were down, scanning their notes. As she read, she sucked the end of a chicken wing, then the tip of her tongue grazed her lips, wiping away the sauce. When she tossed the bone back onto the plate, she licked each of her fingers. One at a time. Slowly. Thoroughly. Then, she looked up. Directly at him.
“Hello?” Jasmine called through the phone.
He broke his stare. “I’m here. I’m gonna head up to my room. Catch some sleep.”
Me too. Will you think about me?”
“I’ll do better than that,” he said. “I’ll dream about you.”
“I love you, Hosea.”
As if she heard Jasmine’s declaration, Natasia cleared her throat, demanded his attention.
“Hosea?”
“I love you too,” he said to his wife, although his eyes were on Natasia. “I’ll call you in the morning, darlin’.”
He clicked off the phone and signaled for their check. Silence stayed until the waiter returned. Hosea signed, then pushed back his chair. “Ready?”
Natasia lifted her glass, emptied the corner of wine that remained. Then said, “Can I ask you something?”
The cheer that had been in her voice all evening was gone. In its place, sadness, a dread that Hosea had heard only once before—on the night he told her it was over.
She said, “What is it about Jasmine? What is it that you see?”
“I see God,” he said without hesitation.
She reared back a bit at his words. “In Jasmine?” she asked, as if she couldn’t believe his answer.
But he was not moved by her shock. “The moment I met Jasmine, I saw the woman I knew God wanted me to marry.”
She nodded slightly, then lowered her head. “How did you know she was the one?”
He shrugged a little. “It wasn’t like I saw a burning bush or anything.” He paused. “But I heard His voice. Inside of me. Guiding me.”
“So with me, God told you no?”
He waited a moment, not wanting to hurt her with the truth. Then, he nodded. “It took me a while to walk away, Natasia. Even after God clearly said no, I wanted it to be you. I was going to force it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He sighed. “Because I was tired of running from Him. Tired of not living for His purpose. Tired of doing things that I wasn’t supposed to be doing.”
“Like having sex.”
He nodded. That had been a contention between the two. Hosea was always consumed with guilt afterward—Natasia was not. “I was a minister and living with one of my congregants. No matter how you spin it, it wasn’t right.”
“I never understood why you took that so seriously. We were in love, in a monogamous relationship, planning to get married.”
“And it still wasn’t right. We were living hidden lives. Lying all the time—I couldn’t keep up with the truth. God couldn’t bless that. So, He took it away. Turned what had started out as good, bad.”
“That’s not the way I remember it.”
“Natasia, we started fighting all the time—”
“That was just life.”
“That was just life without Him.” He paused. “I did the right thing. For me. And for you.”
She studied her hands. “The break-up never made sense to me, but what’s been worse is what happened afterward. I’ve dated…a lot, but I compare every man to you.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know why.”
“Trust me, Hosea.” She smiled, although sadness was all over her. “You’re special.” She stopped and blinked. Slowly moved her hand toward his.
She touched him. He held her.
She sighed. “I’ve never been able to talk to anyone the way we talked. I’ve never been able to laugh with anyone the way we laughed.” She stopped, spoke slower. “I’ve never made love with anyone the way we made love. You can’t tell me that you don’t remember that.”
Since she’d come back, he couldn’t stop remembering. She’d been his melody. He’d been her harmony. He squeezed her hand, then let her go. “You’re going to find that again, Natasia, but you’ve got to live for now. Not in the past.”
“That’s what I’d been doing until fate brought us together again.” She paused. “Do you ever think about me? Or what we used to be?”
He pushed back the lump in his throat and his memories at the same time. Lied without words—just shook his head, no.
She asked, “How do you know that your life wouldn’t be better with me? Better if we were married?”
“Nat,” he said softly.
They both stopped and rested in the name that he used to call her. “Let’s not do this anymore. I’m—”
She held up her hand. “Stop. Don’t say it. I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “It’s the wine. Not me.”
He nodded, helped her from her chair. They shared no words as they walked through the lobby. Inside the elevator, they stood shoulder to shoulder, staring straight at the steel doors.
The bell binged on the sixteenth floor and they both hesitated before Natasia stepped forward.
Hosea followed. When Natasia looked at him with raised eyebrows, he held up his hands. “Just want to make sure you’re safe.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
A small smile. “Always the gentleman.”
Silence returned, until they stopped in front of her room. Natasia pushed her key into the electronic lock, then suddenly whipped around and pressed her lips against his.
It was shocking.
Soft.
Nice.
Hosea closed his eyes, remembered, and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him more.
His heart pounded as his tongue found hers and they kissed the way they used to. His breaths came quicker when her hands slipped from his neck. Then, her fingers moved lower. Lower. Lower.
Her touch made reason return.
He pushed their bodies apart. Her breathing matched his and she turned away, fumbled with the lock. “Come inside,” she breathed, finally pushing open the door.
He stayed still.
She reached for his hand, but he took two steps back. Then stopped.
“Please,” she said, moving into the hallway.
She stretched toward him again, but he moved from her grasp. Their eyes held as he backed away more. Then he turned and rushed down the hall. He came to the elevators, but kept moving. He didn’t want to wait, couldn’t afford to stop.
At the end of the hall, he paused at the staircase. Turned. Looked back from where he came. Looked back to Natasia’s room. To where she’d stood just moments before.
But now she was gone.
TWENTY-ONE
JASMINE ROLLED OVER. HER eyes fluttered, then widened. “Jacquie!” And she remembered. Her daughter had stayed with Mae Frances last night. This was her morning to sleep in since Hosea was in Oakland.
She lay back down and molded her body into the soft sheets. She felt like she could lie there forever—especially if Hosea was with her. The thought of her husband made her frown. It was after ten and he hadn’t called. She reached for her cell, but then the hotel’s phone rang. She smiled. All she had to do was think of him and he would call.
She lifted the phone, settled back into the sheets. “Hey, babe.”
“Sorry. Jasmine. It’s just me,” Annika said.
Jasmine laughed. “Hosea’s away and I thought you were him.”
“I’m not your babe, but I’m calling with great news. I’ve found a few hot opportunities for your girl.”
That made her sit up straight. “Already?”
“Yup. Even one in London.”
“You’re kidding. Have you called her yet?”
“That’s why I’m calling you. I tried reaching Natasia yesterday and was told she’s in Oakland on business.”
Her blood stopped flowing. Her heart stopped beating. But her brain—that worked. And Annika’s words crashed inside her head, over and over.
“In Oakland on business.”
That was all Jasmine heard, but Annika continued. “I could wait, but I was wondering, if you had her cell, we can get this party started.”
Her brain directed her lips to move, “No…I don’t…have her cell,” she stuttered.
“Well, it’s not like the positions are going anywhere. I was just excited. I’ll call her on Monday.”
“Thanks,” Jasmine said, and then stared at the phone for long after she put it back in place.
Natasia’s in Oakland.
That was impossible.
She went over everything that Hosea had told her—how Natasia wasn’t going on this trip, how she didn’t want to go, how she was dating Mario Walters.
All lies!
No, Hosea would never lie. Would never cheat. Honesty, loyalty were the most important things to him.
I lied, I cheated.
But Hosea would never stoop to the low things she’d done. Would he?
“Oh, God,” she cried and sank onto the edge of the bed. She couldn’t have lost the fight already. Natasia couldn’t have taken Hosea so easily.
She jumped when the telephone rang, stared at it. There was no doubt who was on the other end this time. Surely, it was the man she loved. But did he still love her?
With a deep breath, she grabbed the phone. “Hello.”
“May I speak to Jasmine, please?”
She frowned. “Who’s this?”
“Jasmine, this is Brian. Brian Lewis.”
She flung the handset across the room as if it was a rattlesnake. What was this man doing calling her? And why now? Why, when her life was falling apart?
She despised Brian Lewis, the man who had almost destroyed her marriage and given her such a gift at the same time. Surely, he had only one reason for calling. And that was to lead her straight back into temptation.
Alexis and Brian
JUNE 2006
“It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World”
—JAMES BROWN
TWENTY-TWO
IT WAS THE CURVE OF HER calves that made Brian sweat. Just the sight of her legs transported him to another place—a room. Any room. With a bed. He could see, even feel her legs wrapped around him. He leaned to the right to stretch the tightness in his neck. Still, his eyes never left her legs.
“Dr. Lewis?”
Slowly, his glance traveled upward. The pharmaceutical saleswoman smiled when his eyes finally met hers. Her grin was welcoming—as if she knew what he was thinking. As if she were not offended at all. As if she thought his thoughts were good thoughts.
Brian cleared his throat and tried to shake off the heat that she carried. “Well, I’ll pass all of this information onto Dr. Miller. She’s the one—”
The woman held up her hand. “I know Dr. Miller makes the buys. I’m just glad you were free to see me today. I don’t know how I got my appointment mixed up like that.” She leaned forward and this time, Brian couldn’t keep his eyes from her cleavage that peeked through the silk blouse she wore. “I’ll just leave these with you.” Her voice drew Brian’s eyes upward. Again there was that smile. Wider this time.
She stood. Held out her hand. “Dr. Lewis, it was a pleasure.”
He took her hand and hoped she didn’t feel the moisture that had settled inside his palm. He stepped back, but still, she held his hand a moment longer and with the smallest of movements, her thumb caressed the soft skin between his thumb and forefinger. And with her eyes, she told him this meeting didn’t have to end here, didn’t have to end now.
Brian took his hand and his eyes away from her.
“You know,” she began, “You’re my last appointment.” She stepped closer and he inhaled her scent. “Would you like to go somewhere…for a drink?”
Once again, Brian took in all of her. Her tailored navy suit that ended modestly right below the knee was straight out of Brooks Brothers. And even though the top three buttons of her blouse were open, she still could have passed for a Wall Street stockbroker. But Brian imagined the woman beneath those clothes. The woman whose legs screamed sexy and whose behind belied her creamy skin, straight blond hair, and azure-blue eyes.
This chick has some connection to the motherland.
She swept her hair over her shoulder and set her eyes on him. The way she stood—poised, prepared—let Brian know that she was sure of his answer. Of course he would go with her for drinks—and whatever. What man wouldn’t?
