by Pamela Yaye
“It depends. Sometimes, I don’t leave until six or seven.” Sage had always been an up-for-anything type of girl, but this time she had to proceed with caution. Over her head and sinking fast, she had to get her mind off Marshall and back to signing Khari. “I’ll be leaving for Vegas by the end of the month and I have a lot to do between now and then.”
“I didn’t realize you were leaving so soon.” Leaning over, he touched her cheek in a gentle caress. “We’re getting together this week. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Sage moaned inwardly. An aggressive, take-charge kind of man got to her every time and the fiery heat in Marshall’s eyes made him irresistible. “I’ll check my schedule and give you a call later in the week.”
“I don’t know if I can wait that long.”
His cologne aroused her senses and his kisses set her body on fire. Roping in her thoughts before she got carried away, she spooned more cake into her mouth. It was time she put on the brakes and got off this sexually charged ride.
“Tuesday, seven-thirty, my place.”
Secretly pleased that he’d stood his ground, she yielded to his request. “Okay, okay. Quit twisting my arm. I’ll come.”
“After you taste my cooking, you’ll be glad I talked you into it.”
She held his gaze, seduced by his smile and the sudden thickness of his voice. His hand had started on her legs and then slipped up to her thighs. She knew exactly where it was going next. Her body throbbed with hungry anticipation.
“A romantic dinner for two. Just in time for Valentine’s.”
Sage scoffed. “I’ve never liked Valentine’s Day.”
“Right, I’m sure brothers are lined up outside your house, waiting for you to get home.”
“Hardly. Most of the men I meet are more interested in playing games than dating. Good thing I have my own personal pleasure chest or I’d be one lonely girl!”
Marshall rocked with laughter. “Why do you have to make us brothers sound so cold? Like I told you that night at Champions, not all men are dogs.”
“Not all,” she conceded, “just most.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “I guess it’s up to me to show you how real men treat their women. It’s a challenge I’ll take great pleasure carrying out.”
Sage leaned into him, inhaling his rich, invigorating scent. Marshall had a calm, grounding effect on her, but she loved that he had a fun side too. His voice was buttery smooth and the fire in his eyes could torch her panties.
“I’ll have everything ready by seven, so don’t keep me waiting.” Marshall paused, a reflective expression on his face. “Better yet, maybe I should bring dinner to your hotel. You must be sick of ordering room service.”
“I am, but I’d rather come over. Will your parents be there too?”
“No, I want you all to myself.” His voice was a deep, husky whisper. “There’ll be no distractions this time. I’ll pay Khari to get lost if I have to.” His words were filled with promise, eliciting sexy thoughts Sage had no business having. Thoughts of kissing and loving and caressing. The voices in her head told her to stop, so she put her desires on ice and eyed Marshall with interest. “Can I ask you something? Something personal?”
“What’s on your mind?”
Geraldine was the only other person at their table, but she was too busy devouring the dessert tray to pay them any mind. “What happened with your ex-wife?”
His features darkened. Glancing around the room, she smoothed a hand over his chin. “We were young. Kids. Babies having babies, as my mom used to say.”
“And?”
“And while I was in Kuwait, Roxanne was running the streets with her friends. She’d drop Khari off with my parents, then take off for three or four days. No one knew where she was or who she was with. Roxanne would resurface days later, copping an attitude and arguing vehemently that she was working.”
Dance music filled the room. Dinner was finished and guests were ambling around the hall, talking, laughing and posing for pictures. Sage suggested they go out into the lobby, but Marshall declined. She suspected he wanted this conversation to end as quickly as possible and the more he tugged on his collar, the more convinced she was.
“Neither of us wanted to get married, but our parents applied the pressure and we eventually caved. I fainted twice at the church, which should have been a sign, but I went through with the wedding anyways. She was having my baby. It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do,” he stressed, leaning forward in his chair. “I would have done anything for her, but she changed. Hell, we both did.”
“Did she cheat on you? Is that why you broke up?” Sage took in everything—the sorrow in his eyes, the sudden tightness in his jaw, the restless way he adjusted his watch. It didn’t matter what he said, because she saw the truth in his eyes. He’d loved Roxanne and her betrayal had cut him deep.
“We both made a lot of mistakes. I wasn’t a perfect husband. I worked long hours, came down hard on her at times, and it wasn’t long before we both fell out of love.”
“Where is she now?”
He averted his eyes. “I have no idea.” His gaze wandered around the room, drifting aimlessly from one table to the next before settling on Khari’s face. He wasn’t ready to talk about that with Sage. Not yet.
“I don’t know about you,” she began, hoping to alleviate the tension, “but I’ve eaten enough food to last me a week.”
“You’re right, you have.” Marshall chuckled heartily. “You don’t mind if I go check in with Khari, do you?”
“Of course not.”
He stood. Sage reached out and stroked her fingers along his forearm. “Hurry back, or I’ll be forced to find another dance partner.”
“Keep my seat warm,” he instructed, winking at her.
The rest of the night was spent watching an uproarious slide show of pictures captured from the weekend—including a shot of Sage face down in the snow—and honoring the academic and humanitarian achievements of the senior class. It was no surprise when Khari was named Athlete of the Year, but Sage and Marshall jumped to their feet, hooting and hollering, leading the audience in fervent applause. Khari graciously thanked his teammates, the coaching staff and his teachers, but reserved the highest praise for his dad. Sage couldn’t tell the last time she cried, but when Khari hopped off the stage, strode over to their table and hugged Marshall, she blinked back tears. And as she watched father and son embrace, a sudden, intense panic gripped her. The moment passed quickly, but for the rest of the night Sage had a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach she just couldn’t shake.
Chapter 14
When Marshall turned onto Irvington Lane on Sunday afternoon, Sage released a low, pitiful groan. Her rental car was buried under a heap of snow and her tires were coated with ice. Dreading the inevitable clean up, she zipped up her jacket and put on her hood. “Is it okay if I use your bathroom?” she asked, releasing her seat belt. “I think I had one too many of those hot chocolates on the bus.”
Marshall chuckled. “Khari, take Sage inside while I unload the truck.”
“Do you still want to see my trophy wall?” Khari asked, as they climbed the steps. He was cradling his athlete of the year tropy in his hands, a proud smile on his face. “While you’re checking out my awards, I can upload the pictures on your camera to my computer.”
Minutes later, Sage was in Khari’s bedroom, perusing the wooden shelves teeming with awards, trophies and framed newspaper and magazine clippings. Life-size posters of professional athletes were splashed on the walls, T-shirts and jeans poked out of the dresser drawer, and a blue duvet was tossed carelessly on the king-size bed.
“Are you going to be in town a little while longer?” Khari asked, plopping down on his computer chair. When Sage told him she would, he looked relieved. “Great, then you can help dad and grandma plan my surprise party. Make sure they don’t do one of those corny slide shows with my baby pictures and whatever you do, please d
on’t let Grandma choose the music. My friends won’t be jamming to Little Richard.”
Sage faced the window so he wouldn’t see her smile. “What makes you think they’re throwing you a party?”
“Nothing gets past me,” he boasted. “I know everything that goes on around here. Everything,” he said, stressing the word.
“You have a lot of baseball awards, Khari. Ever thought of playing in the junior league?” she asked, maneuvering the conversation to a safer topic.
“Basketball’s my first love. I’m always looking for ways to improve my game. I’m even inventing plays in my sleep!” Khari chuckled. “But if it doesn’t work out, I’d definitely play baseball.” Connecting the cord from the computer to her digital camera, he rolled the wireless mouse on the pad, laughing out loud at the images filling the screen. “Senior Weekend was off the hook! Especially the toboggan race. Me and Oakley killed all of the other groups!”
Laughing, she glanced at Khari, astride a wooden chair, a gigantic smile on his face. As she turned away, her eyes caught sight of the wrinkled black-and-white photograph tacked above his desk. Sage peered at the photo, convinced the slender woman in the multicolored sundress was Marshall’s ex-wife. “Is this your mom?”
Khari lifted his head. “Yeah, that’s my mom, Roxanne Narissa Grant.”
“She’s beautiful. You look just like her.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely,” she agreed. “You have the same dark eyes, and nose. And she’s tall too.”
“My mom was the best. Everyone loved her. My friends used to beg to come over to my house for dinner, just so they could hang out with mom.”
“It sounds like you have a lot of fond memories of her.”
“I remember one time I came home for lunch and she wasn’t there to meet me. I must have been around five. I cried all the way back to school. During art, mom tiptoed into the classroom with McDonald’s! I sat at my desk, eating my French fries, feeling like the luckiest kid alive!”
Sage leaned against the wall, her conversation with Marshall at the awards dinner coming to mind. Marshall had painted Roxanne as a negligent mother, but Khari spoke of her with love and respect. Two very different portraits of the same woman. “Was your mom gone a lot?”
“Yeah, she worked a lot, but on her days off, she’d take me to the park or to the mall.”
Sage didn’t want to pry, but her curiosity wouldn’t leave it alone. “Your dad said your mom was in and out of your life.”
“If it wasn’t for Dad, she’d still be here. Every time she had a beer or a smoke, he’d yell at her.” His words were lined with anger. “He drove her away.”
“I know you miss your mom, Khari, but you’re really lucky to have your dad. I know he’s hard on you sometimes, but he only wants the best for you. I would have loved to have someone check my homework or come to my track meets. I had no one.”
“Who raised you?”
“An assortment of foster moms, babysitters, child care workers and a few teachers here and there.” Sage picked up one of the medals crowding the shelf, amazed that one kid could be good at everything. Baseball trophies, track-and-field medals and academic certificates spoke of Khari’s dedication, athleticism and talent.
“One day I’m going to track my mom down.” He paused for a moment before sharing his thoughts. “I was just a little kid when she left, but I still really miss her, you know?”
Sage nodded in understanding. “Is that why you’re anxious to go pro, Khari? Because going pro will give you the money and resources you need to find her?”
“Well, that’s part of it.” He met her gaze, then shrugged. “All right, it’s a big part.”
“Khari, you’re a great kid and I’d hate for you to make the wrong decision. You need to do what’s right for you, and no one else.” Standing beside him, she put a hand on his shoulder. “And you don’t need to enter the draft to find your mom, either. There are lots of nonprofit agencies that specialize in reuniting lost family members. I’m sure they can help you.”
“Thanks for everything, Sage. You’ve been a really good friend to me, and—” he paused for effect “—I think I know what I’m going to do after graduation.”
Sage raised her eyebrows. “Care to share the big news?”
“Nope. You’ll have to wait until my party to find out.” Chuckling, he spread his eyes wide and said, “I better not say that too loud, huh? After all, it is a surprise party!”
Bob Marley’s muffled voice filled the room. Sage retrieved her cell phone from her jacket pocket and was surprised to see her boss’s name and number on the screen. “Leo?”
“What’s the matter with you, Collins? Are you trying to ruin me?”
He was yelling so loud, the couple who lived next door could hear him. Scared Khari would overhear him, she slipped out of the bedroom and went downstairs. Relieved Marshall wasn’t around, she asked Leo what was going on. “Calm down, boss. What’s going on?”
“I just got off the phone with Khari’s coach. I called to express my interest and said he can deliver the kid. What’s the matter with you, Sage? You’ve been out there for weeks. Your first order of business should have been to talk to the coaching staff.”
“Coach Conway likes to go around saying he’s Khari’s mentor because it makes him feel important. Don’t believe him. He has absolutely no control over what Khari does.”
Shovels scraped against the pavement, grating on her nerves and drawing her attention to the window. It wasn’t some annoying neighbor who had nothing better to do than piss her off. It was Marshall. And not only had he cleared a path from the door to the sidewalk, he’d cleaned the snow off the car and was in the process of scraping the ice off her windshield. Overcome with gratitude, she knocked on the glass. When Marshall looked up, she waved. Sage didn’t know too many brothers who’d brave minus-thirty weather to help her out. But Marshall Grant wasn’t just any man. He treated her like gold, but she suspected he would have done the same thing for a friend, a coworker or a neighbor. That was just the kind of guy he was.
“Are you listening to me?”
Sighing deeply, she tucked her arm under her elbow. “Yeah, I heard you. You want me to call Coach Conway and set up a meeting.”
“It’s not a suggestion, Sage. It’s an order.” He raised his voice. “I’m the one who signs your checks. Don’t ever forget.”
Sage felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Wrestling with her conscience, she leaned against the windowsill. Why didn’t things ever go her way? It didn’t matter how hard she worked, at the end of the day she always had to choose between doing what was right and doing what would bring success. Fear drove her to be the best and she was desperate to make a name for herself. And she would, one blockbuster client at a time. Sage knew what she had to do, but she couldn’t force the words out of her mouth. In her eight years at the agency, she’d snuck into private parties, hospital rooms and rehab centers, never giving a second thought about breaking the rules. She did whatever it took to land the client. Negotiating behind the scenes and scheming her way to victory had never bothered her before, so why now? Her guilt was so palpable she could taste it in her mouth.
“Meet with him tomorrow. I’ll call you in the afternoon to see how it went.”
“Khari’s going to college,” she blurted out.
“Why would he do that when there’s a shitload of money to be made now?”
“Because he’s a kid. He wants to hang out with his friends, attend wild frat parties and date. He’s not ready to turn pro and he doesn’t have to be.” She added, “The NBA’s not going anywhere. It’ll be there when he graduates in four years.”
“Shit. Now you’re starting to sound like his old man.”
“You spoke to Marshall?”
“Last week.”
“And?”
“He hung up in my face.”
Sage swallowed a laugh. “That’s too bad, boss man.”
�
��Talk the kid out of going to school. It’s a bad idea. Stay as long as you have to, but…”
Her conversation with Khari came to mind. No one understood more than she did what a confusing time adolescence was. She’d had childhood fantasies of her parents coming back for her. Bearing gifts and profusely apologetic, her mom would kiss and embrace her. Sage didn’t know how Marshall would feel about Khari tracking down Roxanne, but she made a mental note to talk to him about it. Cutting an end to her boss’s rant, she said, “I’m not going to persuade Khari to turn pro. He has to make this decision on his own, without any interference from me, Coach Conway or anyone else.”
“You’re making a mistake,” he warned. “One misstep in this business and you’re done.”
Sage paused. “That’s a chance I’m just going to have to take. I owe it to Marshall and—”
The line went dead.
Chapter 15
Marshall hoisted the glass dish on top of the stove, closed the oven door with the back of his foot and switched off the timer. “We’ll give Khari a few more minutes, but if he’s not down here by seven-thirty, we’re eating without him.”
When Sage didn’t respond, Marshall glanced over his shoulder. She was still perusing the Neiman Marcus department store catalogue. Vogue, Cosmopolitan and Elle magazines were sprawled out beside her, and she’d combed through each one with precise scrutiny. An hour ago, she had sashayed into the kitchen, hopped up onto the counter and read him an eyebrow-raising article about sex toys. If he didn’t have gravy simmering on the stove, he would have taken her upstairs to practice some of the scintillating techniques.
For the last three weeks, they’d met for quick lunches, drinks at Champions Sports Bar and the evening kickboxing class at Gold’s Gym. More flirting took place than working out, but Marshall always looked forward to seeing her there. It didn’t matter if they were walking the dogs or experimenting in the kitchen, jokes flew, laughter abounded and kisses were plenty. They cheered for opposing football teams, couldn’t decide what radio station to listen to in the car and argued about how he disciplined Khari, but they made each other laugh, could watch reruns of Sanford and Son for hours and both loved to travel. And it didn’t hurt that she had an eye for fashion. Tonight she’d paired a tunic sweater with jeans and a chain-link belt. A headband held her curls off her face and her hair flowed down her back. Who knew a shirt and jeans could be so sexy? he thought, admiring her chic, sophisticated style. Sage looked so good with clothes on, he could only image how hot she’d look naked.
