by Vera Roberts
“I’m not associating myself with drug money like I’ve said to you and Que several times.” Hayley rolls her eyes and continues to feed Monica. “I told you how I feel about that.”
“And I told you I don’t care,” Hayley replies with a slight bite. “You need money and we have the ends to help you. Not a big deal, Tay.”
“It is one to me.” I never asked about Cameron and Hayley knew better than to tell me what was going on in his life. Seeing how Hayley and Que are living in a home that’s awfully similar to Cameron’s, I don’t doubt his empire has done very well. “I need to see who wrote this check. It’ll help out a lot and I won’t need to lay anyone off for the time being.” My head rest on my palm. “I guess it was an angel investor.”
“Be glad.” Hayley mentions. “Not everyone has one of those.”
I think about what I want to say next and wonder if it’s in my best course of action to say anything. I thought about Cameron more within the past week than I had in the past year. He wouldn’t just randomly show up at the funeral like that unless he specifically wanted my attention. “Has Cameron asked about me? Like, at all?”
Hayley smiles at me. “He asks about you all the time, girl.”
Two
The next morning, another envelope arrived to me in the same order as the first one. I took that one out to see a check in the amount of two hundred thousand; doubled the amount of the first check.
On the memo line was another weird word. Belong.
Belong? What a weird-ass word to leave on the memo. Did the person mean to write something and forgot? Belong to Taylor? To the girl who runs Fresh Espresso? Belong what? I don’t know and I’m not sure if I care.
I immediately went to the bank and they confirmed the checks were good but the money wouldn’t be available for another week so they could verify it.
Three hundred thousand. That would cover Alicia’s family hook-up fee as well as covering my personal expenses. I still have to worry about the coffee shops but at least Alicia can get her money.
Over the next month, two more checks arrive with the amount doubled with each check. Over a million dollars was sent to me by a generous person who wanted to remain anonymous. I had more than enough money to ensure both shops would remain open and gave Alicia extra money to pursue the legal case against the driver.
I’m about to close up for the night and it’s just me. I don’t feel unsafe or alarmed about being alone. I actually prefer it. I can concentrate on getting everything ready for tomorrow and go home to relax.
The shop hours are from six to four, and it’s completely intentional. I want to be home while it’s still light out and I can entertain someone if I feel like setting myself up for disappointment.
We have extended holiday hours it’s for everyone who’s out late shopping, partying, or just need a break from their families for a little while. It’s something my Daddy always had and I’m happy to keep up with tradition.
As I close everything down and wipe the tables, someone knocks on the door. I glance at the clock and see it’s already 4:15. Everything is already shut off and the sign clearly says we’re not open. But I also know people don’t know how to read.
I turn around and meet face-to-face with the Devil himself – Cameron Page. My first love. My first heartbreak.
He grins at me and I roll my eyes. Of course, the rules don’t apply to him. They never did. It’s how he was able to get away with everything. He still does. He always will.
This is not how our first re-encounter was supposed to go. I was supposed to walking down the street, carrying my Louis Vuitton tote, wearing my Gucci shades, and have Tory Burch on my feet. My coils are glistened with the best butter hair cream and my skin is equally moisturized.
The sun would be shining down on my face as I have a proud smile. As I carry a bag from Bloomingdale’s, I would run into Cameron. He would be about twenty pounds heavier, balding, and a stain on his shirt from baby food.
He would look at me, almost ashamed of his appearance and I just smile as I carry on, heading to another store. Would I be married? It doesn’t matter.
Another scenario would’ve been I was at the farmer’s market, with my own custom-made basket as I’m picking out the best fruits and veggies for my YouTube cooking channel. I bump into Cameron as I’m about to leave.
He’s with his Plain Jane and long-suffering wife as he too also looks like he could take an extended break from his marriage instead of going on Pornhub every night to rub a quick one out for five minutes.
His wife is going on about the different types of mushrooms should she pick while Cameron straightens out his wrinkled shirt as well as his wrinkled khakis and runs a hand through his messed-up hair.
He would be embarrassed but oddly happy to see me and wondering how I’ve been. His wife would come up and profess how much of a fan she is of my channel if I could take a selfie with her. Then Cameron would send that pic to his phone and pull it out later that night to give himself some motivation to yet rub another one out.
The fantasies leave my head as Cameron cocks an eyebrow as if he’s challenging me. He wants to talk and I know that if we don’t talk now, he’ll come back again until he wears me down enough. He’s annoying like that.
As I walk closer to him, my body remembers Cameron. He’s leaner and harder. His dirty blonde hair is slick back and his brown eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. Being older and hopefully, wiser, I know that mischief is more sinister.
We stand on opposite sides of the glass door. The feelings I had for Cameron come rushing back as if they’d never left. My resolve, however, reminds me why I left him alone.
I don’t date drug dealers and I damn sure don’t date drug lords. Who knows how many bodies Cameron has on his count? Who knows how much destruction he has caused, getting other people strung out and hopelessly addicted to his drugs?
I can’t be with someone knowing they’re playing an active role in destroying people’s lives, yet I’m finding it hard to stay away from Cameron. I know what will happen when I unlock this door and I don’t know if that’s something I really want.
Cameron, however, isn’t backing down. “Baby girl,” he purrs through the glass, “are you going to let me come in?”
I sigh and feel his eyes flicker all over my body. Regret is already choking me and Cameron is still outside. “We have nothing to talk about, Cam.”
“We have everything to talk about.” He pulls out four pieces of paper and puts them against the glass. “These to start.”
I lean in closer and recognize the papers – they’re the cashed checks that some mysterious person sent to me. I finally look closely at the memo lines and it’s clear all along:
You.
Belong.
To.
Me.
I’m horrified at the thought I belonged to Cameron and now that he owns me – both literally and figuratively, I’m legit scared for my life. I glance back up at Cameron and his face has a hint of a smirk. It’s not completely visible, but I know him. It’s there.
Cameron’s eyes are warm, yet I know his patience being on the other side of the door is running thin. Now that I know the truth, a conversation between us is inevitable. We both have questions but whether we’ll get answers is up for a debate.
Pushing a final air out of my lungs, I open the door and let Cameron in. His scent hits me like a Mack truck and I take a deep, longing inhale as it washes over me. He smells clean like soap, musk, and just plain man.
His scent possessed me, and it was both wholesome and demanding. My heart was full of regret, while my body was hanging on by a string. My nipples tighten to stiff peaks as my panties become damp with want.
My brain is mad at me for even entertaining Cameron, but I had no choice. He was the one who sent the money and regardless how I feel about him, he’s entitled to any and all explanations.
I quickly lock the door behind Cameron and pull down all of the shades. No one has to s
ee us. No one has to know about this…whatever the hell this is. What I do know, however, is I don’t like the underlying sexual tension that seemingly never left.
The ghosts of our past relationship swirled around us in a taunting and teasing manner as Cameron calmly pulled out a chair and sat down. He briefly looked around the shop in admiration, but he studied absolutely nothing.
He’d been here before.
Daddy never mentioned Cameron swinging by the shop, but he didn’t have to. Cameron could’ve visited when he knew my father wasn’t going to be around. Cameron blends in like any other rich white man who wants coffee; no one would’ve guessed who he was.
“Did you want something to drink?” I ask.
“A cappuccino.” He glances over at the dessert bar. “And also a biscuit with jam, if it’s still available.”
I knew it meant I had to turn everything back on and take out the coffee just to make Cameron’s cappuccino. He knew that as well. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere and if I wanted Cameron to leave me alone, it was a small price to pay.
I turn on the machines and make Cameron’s coffee before I prepare the biscuit and jam. I walk over to Cameron and place the plate before him but it’s clear he’s wasting my time. He’s been looking at his phone while I’ve been working on his requests.
I go back to making the coffee and roll my eyes at the stupidity of it all. I knew cashing those damn checks were too good to be true. I thought it was just an angel donor or someone that wanted to see the shop still running. Now I know it was Cameron keeping tabs.
I don’t understand why. He could have any woman in the world. He’s wealthy and has D.C. connections; there isn’t a socialite in the world who wouldn’t love that. There are a dime a dozen coffee shops in East Atlanta; Fresh Espresso isn’t that good.
Once Cameron’s cappuccino is done, I walk back over to him and place it beside the biscuit plate. I take a chair and sit directly in front of him. I want to know what kind of game he’s trying to kick right now.
He’s wearing a V-neck shirt and jeans. On his feet are Jordans. His brown eyes are sparkling, as if he’s always up to no good, and he always is. His lips are moisturized and silently begging me to kiss them.
There’s nothing flashy about Cameron. No huge diamond studs or ice on his wrists or teeth. He only has a wristwatch and knowing Cameron, it’s probably top of the line expensive.
He may be quiet with his flash, but it’s not that quiet with his money. He drives a modest BMW, if one could call those cars modest. He lives in a gated community in Buckhead, along with the other rich, white families.
It’s clear to see why the Feds left Cameron alone. He doesn’t look like a drug dealer. There’s nothing about he or his boys that scream we’re the biggest drug cartel in East Atlanta.
Cameron looks like the typical rich white guy and I honestly think, that’s why he’s successful as he is. Nothing can stick to him. He has super loyal people surrounding him. No one will be willing to testify against him.
And absolutely no one could believe Senator Page’s son was a ruthless drug lord.
He calmly sips his cappuccino before he tries the homemade biscuit with jam. A look of euphoria and bliss covers his face. I’m instantly reminded that was how he looked when he first entered me and when he finally came. I cross my legs in hops to stop the increasing thumping in my panties.
“This is excellent.” He smiles. “Hayley made this?”
“I made it.” I dryly reply. My words and my body are in direct conflict with each other. Clearly, my mind is winning the battle but for how long? “Daddy’s old recipe. Hayley made the jam, though. We created it together.”
“I need to pick up a jar for my mom, she’ll love it.” Cameron smiles and I see the slight dimples in his cheeks. Ugh. He knows how much I loved his dimples.
“I’ll make sure to send it to her.” I sip my tangerine tea. “Is there anything else I can help you with? I plan to pay you back in full.”
“I don’t want your money, baby girl. Your money is no good with me.” He shakes his head. “I wanted to talk to you about the terms of our arrangement.”
“The terms of our arrangement?” Every word comes out like a sentence. My heart races to uncontrollable levels and I’m struggling to remain calm. “I just told you I’ll pay you back in full. The shops are up and running like clockwork. You’ll get your money back in no time. I’ll take out a loan to pay you back.”
“The money wasn’t a loan. It was a gift and it should be treated as such.” His low voice comforts me like a blanket. “I’m installing cameras in your shops. Every time you go to the bank to make a deposit, you’ll have security detail to ensure nothing happens. If you take a day off, I need to know where you’re going and how long you’re going to be there. From this moment on, you’ll be escorted to the shops with my driver.”
Cameron is giving me direct orders, not suggestions. It’s also clear none of this is up for negotiation. The hair on the back of my neck stands up and I feel a sliver of a chill down my spine. “What’s going on?”
Three
I’m used to Cameron not giving me direct answers. That was his M.O. throughout our entire relationship until he was forced to reveal everything. Well, most things. I’m sure there is a lot I don’t know and I will never know.
Cameron looks at me square in the eyes and I can tell he’s contemplating how much he wants to reveal. We both know it doesn’t matter if he tells the whole truth or a part of it; he’s not letting me go again. I’m not sure if I want him to is the real problem.
“Nothing you should be concerned with.” This record already sounds familiar and I don’t like the remix of it. “I’m not stopping you from doing whatever it is you want to do, baby girl.” Cameron sips his cappuccino and completely ignores my question. “But I do think my terms are more favorable than you trying to pay off what’s not a loan.”
It doesn’t matter if I don’t want any part of whatever Cameron is doing; he’s going to make me a part of it, regardless. I glance at his eyes and felt my breath caught upon seeing his steely gaze. I stared back at him, not in love, but out of defiance. “Fine.”
“Paychecks will be sent out as normal and there will be no more interruptions. You don’t have to worry about being raided or the police frequenting here unless they’re just coming in to try these delicious biscuits.” He takes another bite and shakes his head. “So good.”
There’s a reason why Cameron added in that little bit about being raided or being confronted by the police. He doesn’t have to tell me they’re on his payroll. “I’m glad.” I fold my arms. “Anything else, boss man?”
Cameron finishes his cappuccino and blots his lips. “Where did we go wrong, Tay?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” This is the part where I really think this fool is wasting my time. “…the fact you chose the streets over your girl? Maybe that part.”
He rubs his five o’clock shadow and licks those kissable lips. I’m ignoring the soft thumping occurring in my panties. “Nothing is more important than you, Taylor.” His voice is low and so damn hot. He locks eyes with mine and my body shivers. “Absolutely nothing.”
“That’s not the point, Cameron.” I mention to him. “You were more devoted to your corners than to us.”
“That’s not true,” he shakes his head and the chestnut brown hair softly moves, “I treated you very well. Whatever you wanted, you received.”
“Please stop trying to sweet talk to me. I’m getting hot and bothered.” I roll my eyes. He laughs at my annoyance and once again, the thought of whether to fight or fuck him occurs in my brain.
“I always took care of you, Tay. I always will.” He purrs as a spark flew between us. He grabs my fingers and I don’t stop him. His hand is just as soft and smooth as I remembered. “Everyone knows what the deal is between us. Everyone knows who you are and what you mean to me. Nothing will ever happen to you.”
“If something goes down, Ca
m, I’m the first target they’ll go after.” Our fingers interlock and it feels like home. “You can’t protect me all of the time. Some of these females out here are just as ruthless as the men.”
“Oh, I know,” says Cameron, abruptly. “Trust me, I know.”
I don’t want to ask the question but it’s going to nag me if I don’t. Cameron didn’t have to say a word to let me know the score. “The person who’s targeting you is a woman.”
Cameron is silent for a brief moment. His face is taut and the slightest hint of dismay appears in his eyes. “I don’t want you to concern yourself with that,” he stands up and dusts off his jeans as his security detail appears. “You keep this business running tight.” He kisses my hand and winks at me. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later?” I stand up and follow him out to the door. “You don’t know where I live.”
Cameron turns to me and grabs my waist. He brushes a lock of hair away from my face and smiles at me. “I know everything about you, baby girl. Believe that.”
I watch Cameron motion to his security as they nod back at him. I don’t know what silent language they have but I’m assuming the coast was clear and we both could go home. “Cam?”
He turns around and smiles at me. “Yes, baby?”
I lean against the door jamb. “Are you hitting me up because this pussy is good and you miss it or because you’re in a drought?”
He smiles his schoolboy charm smile and kisses my forehead. “I think we both know the answer to that question.”
I closed up everything again and felt the butterflies in my stomach. I tried not to smile but I couldn’t help it. Gosh, my body missed him. My heart craved him. My mind told me to knock it off and get some sense.
I can’t ignore what Cameron does, but I wonder why he’s being so protective of me all of a sudden? And who was the mystery woman?
As I locked up the shop, I head to my car and saw two men next to it. One was a tall Black man with a muscular frame and the other man was a white guy of similar stature. “Ms. Taylor Gray?” He held up a police badge.
