A Private Affair

by Donna Hill

  Quinn and Nikita sat across the paper-piled desk listening to Sean and Khendra bring them up-to-date.

  “The district attorney had set up a complete investigation of the incidents surrounding your sister’s death. Their conclusion is that it was accidental,” Khendra said.

  Quinn reared up from his seat.

  Sean held up his hand.

  “But, in order to avoid a civil suit, they have agreed to pay you damages for wrongful death, if you’re willing to settle out of court,” she continued. “Internal Affairs has dismissed the two officers involved for attempting to cover up what they’d done. The two boys they arrested have been released and all charges have been dropped.”

  Quinn was silent. It was Nikita who spoke up.

  “In other words, if we keep our mouths shut they’ll give us the money without a hassle?”

  “Exactly,” Sean said. “We could still take this to trial, reject the offer. But as I said before, it could drag on and get very ugly. The P.D. will do whatever it has to, to save as much face as possible. Even if that means trying to discredit your sister in the process. They’ll close ranks on us.”

  Nikita looked at Quinn, whose face was unreadable.

  “I don’t want that. Make the deal.” He stood. “But you’d better squeeze them for every dime. Their blood money will never replace my sister, and draggin’ her name through the mud ain’t gonna bring her back, either. But if the digits ain’t high enough, take ’em to court. I’ll just have to handle it.”

  “Done.” Sean closed his portfolio. “What are you willing to settle for?”

  “Nothin’ less than a mil.”

  “We’ll start at three.”

  “How long you think this is gonna take?”

  “It’s hard to say. A couple of months just to work out the deal. Getting the actual money is when the real wait begins.”

  Chapter 26

  Pressin’ On

  Quinn was finished with his classes at ASCAP. There was no studio time today, and he didn’t feel like going to Nikita’s office.

  Matter of fact, he felt like going there less and less, the same way he felt about going home. And she was starting to complain about that again, too.

  He drove down Malcolm X Boulevard, seeing who he could see. Felt like hanging with the fellas for a minute. Get himself grounded again.

  He wasn’t sure what was happening to him lately. He just felt that he was pretending to be somebody else all the time. Putting on a front.

  He slowed as he approached Shug’s and spotted T.C. and his crew.

  “Yo. T.C.!” He honked the horn. T.C. turned and, seeing Quinn roll to a stop, moved away from the group and strolled toward the car.

  He was still long and lanky, looking like he could use a good meal, Quinn observed. But there was something else about him that he noticed as he approached. There was a new swagger, a defiance, a hardness that he’d never noticed before.

  T.C. came around the front of the car and leaned down against the driver’s-side window. “Whatsup, man?”

  They exchanged the handshake of the day.

  “It’s all good.”

  “Ain’t seen you around much no more,” T.C. said.

  Quinn could have sworn he heard a challenge in his voice. “Been busy, brother.” He smiled.

  T.C. didn’t return it. “Yeah, so I hear. You all big-time now that you outta the hood.”

  “Naw, man. It’s still me. Ain’t nothin’ changed.”

  “You changed.” He cut him a look. “Yo, I gotta roll. Take it light.” He turned and walked away to rejoin the group, who then moved down the block.

  Quinn sat for several minutes in the car, replaying what had just transpired.

  Was he different?

  Finally he pulled away and headed downtown. Maybe he’d stop by and see Nikita, anyway.

  Nikita sat at her desk reviewing a pamphlet about soliciting an international contingent of authors, editors and publishers for a symposium in Nigeria. The group was just forming and needed volunteers to help with the coordination.

  She read the information again, her adrenaline flowing like the Nile. She crossed her stockinged legs and began tapping her foot.

  It sounded fantastic, something that she definitely wanted to be a part of. She and Quinn could work on it together.

  Maybe that was just the thing they needed to get them back on track. Lately he seemed so distant, detached. He was coming home at more normal hours, more or less…since she’d put her foot down. He was working at the studio, and had finished his classes. Things looked as if they were going to work out about his sister’s case. Their sex life was great.

  She sucked her teeth and sighed. She just couldn’t figure him out. She’d done everything within her power to enhance his life, open up new avenues to him, but…

  A knock on the door pulled her away from her thoughts.

  She pushed away from her desk, crossed the room, the seashell on the end of her lock swinging with her hip-swaying stride. She pulled the door open.

  “Maxine…” She sort of frowned in confusion.

  “Hey, Nikita. Sorry to bother you. I thought Quinn might be here.”

  Nikita’s gaze moved quickly over Maxine’s long, toned form, the mint green linen skirt suit showing off those damned hips and dancer’s legs.

  “He’s not here…at the moment. Come on in. Something I can help you with?”

  “No. Not really.”

  Nikita caught the hitch in her voice. “Everything okay? You…look a little upset.”

  She smiled and Nikita noticed the little gap between her two front teeth. Men had a thing for that, she’d heard. That and bowlegs. She wasn’t sure why, though.

  “Everything’s cool. Listen, just tell Quinn that I dropped in to say goodbye.”

  “Goodbye?”

  “Yeah. I’m leavin’ for San Francisco in the morning. Just wanted to see him before I left.”

  “Oh.” San Francisco. “Big move.”

  “Somethin’ like that. Anyway, just tell him for me.”

  “Sure.”

  Maxine turned to leave, then turned back. “How are things with Lacy’s case?”

  Nikita braced her hand against the doorframe. “We’ve agreed to settle out of court. We just have to see how long it’s going to take them to pay, and how much.”

  “That’s good. Glad to hear it. It’s been a long time comin’.” She smiled again. “Take care, Nikita.”

  “I will. And good luck,” she called out to the retreating form.

  She shut the door. Well, if that wasn’t the strangest visit.

  Maxine gone. Hallelujah. That was the one element in Quinn’s life that she feared more than his love of the street—Maxine Sherman. He always said they were “just friends.” Ha. She felt the vibes. And she knew that given the chance something would get going between them. But she’d made sure that never happened. Not on her watch. She had no intention of losing Quinn. Not now. Not ever. She’d worked too hard to get him, and them, to where they were.

  With Maxine out of the picture her life became that much simpler.

  Maxine walked toward the train station. She shouldn’t have gone there. She shouldn’t have put herself in that position…facing his woman. But she took a chance. She hadn’t heard from Quinn since Christmas, more than six months ago.

  Be real, girl. You wanted to see Nikita. Wanted to see her face again, and maybe that would, once and for all, knock reality past first base, all the way home.

  They were a couple. Nikita and Quinn. Still together. End of story.

  Nikita couldn’t dial Parris’s number fast enough. Parris picked up in time with her answering machine message, and had to shout over Nick’s recorded voice.

  “Hey, girl. Sorry about that. Just got out of the shower. Hang on a sec.” She hugged the phone between her shoulder and her ear, draped a towel around her wet hair, and tugged on the belt of her robe. “Whew. Now, I’m listening.”

  “G
uess who just paid me a visit?”

  “Those guys from Publisher’s Clearinghouse?”

  “Parris…please.”

  “Okay, okay. Who?”

  “Maxine Sherman.”

  Parris jerked her long neck back, her green eyes squinting. “Say what?”

  “You heard me.”

  She went on to tell Parris about the impromptu visit and Maxine’s announcement. “So what do you think about that?”

  Parris sat on the edge of the chaise lounge. “Do you really want to know what I think, Nikita? Or is that just a rhetorical question?”

  “If you have something to say, tell me.”

  Parris took a breath. “First of all, I think you’re too happy, for all the wrong reasons.”

  “Too happy! Shouldn’t I be?”

  “You want to hear me out, or what?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Maxine, from everything I’ve gathered, has been a good friend to Quinn for more years than you’ve even known him. If the man loves you, his friendship with Maxine wasn’t going to change that.

  “He’s lost a lot over the past two years. But you’ve been so hell-bent on proving something that you haven’t taken the time to see what it is that he needed in his life…just your own.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Parris, I’ve only wanted the best for Quinn. To see him reach his potential. If that meant doing some of the things I did, then so be it. Look at where he is now, from when we met.”

  “Yes. But is he happy? Was all that work, effort and energy really for him, or for you?”

  Quinn got halfway to Nikita’s office and turned around. What he really needed was some peace and quiet. He knew that wouldn’t be the case with Nikita. She’d find something for him to do, or talk him to death.

  He headed home, and for the first time in months, he began to write again.

  Chapter 27

  Your Love Is All I Know

  Nikita couldn’t have been more surprised to find Quinn at home if the guys from Publisher’s Clearinghouse really had paid her a visit.

  He was sitting at the piano, intent on putting together what seemed to be a new song. He didn’t even hear her come in.

  She stood quietly in the doorway just watching him. Her heart seemed to swell in her chest. He was exquisite. From the moment she’d laid eyes on Quinten Parker, she’d thought she’d died and gone to heaven. He was like a black Messiah, with an energy that radiated from him as easy as the air he breathed.

  He’d lit a fire in her soul that she couldn’t deny. Nor did she want to. She loved this man to the depths of her being. Maybe she had done some things that might have been selfish, but it wasn’t because she didn’t care. It was because she did. Perhaps too much. And it scared her. Scared her to think that she could ever lose him. He’d been the one constant in her life that mattered. The only thing that made everything in her life seem worthwhile.

  He sensed her presence and slowly turned around on the piano bench. When he saw her standing there in the doorway, looking all soft, tiny and vulnerable, his heart knocked in his chest, and he wondered why he’d been staying away. Maybe not physically, but in spirit. His body had been there, but his heart and soul had been adrift. He wasn’t sure for how long.

  She’d been good to him—good for him—and he’d been fighting it and her. Keeping that one part of himself out of her reach. Maybe if he just let go…

  “Hi,” she said in that soft, sexy voice.

  “Hey, baby.”

  She walked toward him, sensing a change in him. Sensing his sudden need for her.

  She stood in front of him looking down into his eyes, which seemed to glow with a growing intensity.

  His gaze stayed fixed on her while his hands began stroking her waist, her hips, down her thighs, until they found the hem of her skirt, inching it upward.

  Her eyes slid shut when his fingers found the waistband of her panty hose and panties beneath, pulling both down her thighs, her legs, until she was completely exposed to him.

  She trembled, emitting a soft whimper, a sharp intake of breath when he pulled her close, the tip of his tongue tantalizing the tiny bud until she cried out his name.

  And he took…

  And took…

  There on the hardwood floor, on the slick black leather of the couch, on the plush softness of their mating bed, until there was nothing left for either of them to give.

  They slept, then. Wrapped in each other’s arms.

  And she pushed all thoughts of her fears to the back of her mind.

  Along with her promise to Maxine.

  Val sat next to Maxine in the waiting area of the airport, dreading the moment when her flight would be called. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t cry and make sad matters worse. But Maxie was the last of the old gang. Her one true friend. Now she’d truly be alone.

  “Flight number eight seventeen direct to San Francisco is now boarding,” the nasal-toned announcer said. “Those with small children, seniors and those needing assistance, please come to gate B.”

  Val and Maxine looked at each other, both fighting back tears, trying to smile.

  Maxine sniffled. “I won’t start if you won’t.” Her smile trembled at the edges.

  “Then don’t start,” she uttered in a shaky voice.

  “Passengers in seats eighty through sixty-five, please begin boarding.”

  Slowly Maxine stood. She picked up her carry-on bag and her pocketbook. She turned toward Val. “You promised,” she choked, seeing the tears thread down Val’s high-arched cheeks.

  “I lied.”

  They embraced long and hard, as only true-to-the-heart friends can.

  “Be happy, Max,” she said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

  “And you come see me. Anytime. You hear?” She wiped away her tears.

  “Count on it.” Val ran a finger under her eyes.

  Moving away, hands outstretched, their fingertips touching in those final moments…

  Then Maxine hurried off and was soon swallowed up in the knot of boarding bodies.

  As the jet soared out of JFK, Maxine looked down, as the only city she knew began to disappear beneath her.

  Quinn had never called to say goodbye.

  “Sounds good, Nikita, but it don’t sound like somethin’ I want to get involved in right now. I told you that before.” He stepped into his jeans, and pulled his Polo jacket from the closet and tossed it on the chair.

  He moved around the bedroom, picking up discarded clothes and putting them in a pile. Got his latest pair of Air Jordans out of the closet and put them on.

  “Quinn, this symposium is something that’s never been tried before. It’s history in the making, baby.” She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Just think about having black writers, editors and publishers from all over the world coming together in one place to exchange ideas and put mechanisms in place to further African-American literature.

  “Besides, it’s not something that’s going to happen right away. It’ll be at least a couple of years down the road just to get everything and everybody together.”

  He angled his head in her direction, seeing the set of her smooth jaw and the determination in her light brown eyes.

  It would be easier to just say Yeah than to spend all his time and energy debating it. She’d never let it rest, otherwise. Once Niki got her mind set on something there was no turning her around. Damn. She’d been at him about that thing for the past couple of weeks.

  “I’ll think about it. But I ain’t makin’ no promises. Got my hands full as it is. Going back in the studio to finish up the album. That’s gonna take a while. Plus I got other stuff to do, ya know.” He gathered up the clothes from the floor.

  She put on her best “Do this for me, Quinn” voice. “There’s a planning committee meeting in three weeks.”

  He cut his eyes in her direction and just grinned. He knew perfectly well what she
was trying to do. He put on his jacket. “Yeah, I hear ya, Nik. Later. Okay?”

  “Try not to be too late,” she called out after him.

  She spun around and flopped across the bed, a big smile brightening her cinnamon-toned face. He’d do it. Of course he would. He hadn’t denied her anything…yet. And since things seemed to be going her way, she’d decided to pay her parents a visit and somehow get them to give her the money for the magazine.

  Man. If it wasn’t one thing with that woman it was something else. Every time he turned around she was shoving something else in his face. Just when he figured things were cool. Bam! Here she comes with more stuff.

  He turned up the volume on the car stereo until the sounds of R. Kelly boomed through the speakers.

  He dropped his clothes off at the cleaners, then headed uptown, figuring he’d hang out at B.J.’s, see what was happening. Then he changed his mind, as if suddenly tugged in the opposite direction, or something had whispered in his ear, “Hey, Q.” A sense of Maxine came to him, just as strong as if she’d been sitting right next to him.

  He shook off the strange sensation and headed toward Chambers Street. Sometimes Maxine worked on Saturdays. Maybe he’d catch her at the office.

  The closer he got to his destination, the better he started feeling. That tightness that had gotten a lock on his insides seemed to loosen.

  It had been so long since he’d seen her, heard her voice. He knew he should have stopped by long before now, but the thought that she’d be holed up with her husband-to-be had always turned him around.

  She’d stopped calling long ago and might not have much to say to him now, after the way he’d dissed her. It wasn’t right. And he knew it.

  He found a parking space across the street from the bank. He watched the door, seeing people come and go, and for a minute he had second thoughts.

  Finally he shut off the music and got out. Darting in and out of traffic, he jogged across the street and pushed through the revolving door.

  He walked past the teller to the new accounts department and spotted her desk. Someone else was sitting there.