He heaved a deep sigh. He bit down on his bottom lip, chewing against the flesh nervously. Heat had exploded through his bloodstream, but nothing had rained South, not one spark or current of electricity had ignited a quiver of an erection, his flesh lying limp and staid. That alone would surely have spoiled the moment.
It had begun to rain, the sky darkening in deep, dark, gray striations. Thick, heavy, moisture-filled clouds had rolled in with a cooling breeze and had finally let go, water spilling down over the landscape with a vengeance. The weather seemed to be setting the tone for the rest of his day and as Darwin raced through the studio’s employee entrance, he was no longer feeling the buoyant joy he’d left behind with Bridget.
Chapter 10
Ella had sat in her car watching Darwin as he’d exited the building, gotten into his own vehicle, and had pulled off into midday traffic. Once he was out of sight, she started the ignition and drove off in the opposite direction.
Minutes later she gave a quick wave to the guard monitoring the brick entrance of a gated community as she drove into an enclave of very expensive, upscale, luxury homes. She pulled up in front of a large Tudor-style estate, parking her Jeep Cherokee behind a sleek, Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren. The four-hundred-thousand-dollar automobile, as well as the million-dollar house, had been a gift to its owner from one of her numerous male friends. As she walked past the vehicle, Ella resisted the urge to swipe the keys in her hand against the car’s side.
She entered the home through a side door, not bothering to knock before she pushed her way inside. Ava St. John greeted her from the kitchen counter as she sat picking over a salad of mixed baby greens and raw vegetables.
“And why do you look like the cat who ate the canary?” Ava inquired, eyeing the other woman curiously.
Ella cut an eye in her direction as she pulled open the door of the stainless steel refrigerator. She reached inside for a can of Sprite soda, popped open the top and took a swig of the carbonated beverage. It trickled a bubbly path down her throat, moistening her dry mouth. She leaned against the counter, reaching to pick a baby carrot from Ava’s plate.
Then she responded. “It was too easy, little sister. Now all I have to do is sit back and reap the rewards. The owners are thrilled with how I’m handling our Darwin Tolliver problem.”
“And just how are you handling Mr. Tolliver?”
“I’m telling him what he wants to hear. Unfortunately for him, I also have to tell the powers in charge something else altogether, but in the end, I’ll be president of my own division.”
Ava leaned forward on her elbows. “And you really believe Darwin is just going to sit back and take whatever you throw at him?”
“The man’s a fool. Handling him is the least of my concerns.”
“I wouldn’t underestimate Darwin if I were you. I told you before it’s the nice guys who always prove to be more problematic.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “You just do what I ask you to do, please. I’ll take care of everything else.”
“Well, I’ve told you before, don’t waste your time with boys on the bottom of the totem pole. To get to the top you have to work the men at the top. Darwin is small fish and small fish usually net you small results.”
Ella scowled. “You really think you know everything, don’t you?”
Ava shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m the star that I am, sister dear, because to work a man for all he’s worth you have to know his weaknesses to be able to exploit those weaknesses to your advantage. What I know is that you don’t know anything about Darwin Tolliver and that is going to be your downfall.”
Ella glared at her sibling. “Don’t you wish.”
Ava pushed her plate aside as she rose from her seat, heading into the other room. “No,” she said, her voice softening, “actually I don’t wish such a thing, Ella. I don’t wish anything like that on you at all.”
Ella watched as her sister disappeared out of sight, moving to place a telephone call. She could hear her in the distance, a low, seductive voice teasing and taunting some poor fool. Slamming out the back door, Ella stopped to kick Ava’s tire before heading back to her job.
Driving back to the office, she chewed on her sister’s comments. They were only half sisters, same mother, different fathers, and the sibling rivalry raged rampant through Ella’s spirit. Ava had always been prettier, smarter, thinner, more cunning, worldlier, and she let Ella know it at every opportunity. Ella believed Ava relished each and every opportunity she had to show her up. There was no disputing they had love for each other—their mother had insisted on it—but there was absolutely nothing about the other that either liked. Ella had resented Ava from day one, the baby girl her mother and stepfather had doted on.
Ava’s father had been perfect. The ideal husband and adoring parent any woman would have been lucky to have. He’d spoiled Ava endlessly and though he’d been extraordinarily kind and loving with Ella, she’d always been acutely sensitive to the fact that she wasn’t his child by blood.
Ella’s father had been every woman’s worst nightmare, an abusive, uncaring cad who’d made her mother cry more times than anyone cared to count. He’d disappeared when Ella had been five years old and though she could count on one hand with fingers left over the number of times he’d ever come to visit her, she still mourned the loss of him as if it had happened just yesterday. As she pulled into her reserved parking space, Ella was even more determined to get what she wanted. She was desperate to prove Ava wrong.
It had taken Bridget less than an hour to get her hands on copies of all the daily tabloids. The lead story in five out of six of them was about Ava St. John and her illicit tryst with her new boy toy, Darwin Tolliver. To add insult to injury, a rival television station was touting an upcoming, exclusive interview with Ava, photos of the two of them flashing across the television screen.
Bridget pressed the off button on her remote control, striding into her home office to her computer on the desktop. Logging on to the Internet, she made her way to a search engine and typed in Ava St. John’s name. Bridget could only shake her head at the 199,000 entries that were found.
She headed first to the official Web site of Ava St. John. The site was page upon page of color images of Ava in free-flowing gowns or scant articles of clothing that were more sequins and glitter than actual fabric. There was promotion for her tell-all book with a tour section for fans to find out where she would be speaking. The gallery area was a who’s who of celebrity stardom posed adoringly alongside the woman. Newly added was a press image of Ava and Darwin smiling into a camera.
Bridget read Ava’s personal statement with interest, the woman proclaiming herself to be an authentic goddess above all other women. To hear Ava tell it, her way was the way to a New World where women were in full control and men mere stepping stones to be walked on. Bridget found the rhetoric to be akin to walking knee-deep in Ava’s delusions of grandeur. As she reached the end of Ava’s bio page, one line of information caught her full attention. Ava St. John had been born and raised in Coulee City, Washington, just like Ella Scott.
Ava sank into a large pool of hot water and rose-scented bath bubbles. Closing her eyes, she settled her naked body back against the bath pillow, allowing the rush of warm steam to seep into her pores.
It felt good to finally relax, she thought, to disconnect away from the stress and strain that had become her daily life. Soaking in a hot tub at four o’clock in the afternoon was only slightly out of character for Ava, but since Ella’s plea for her help the month before, she was finding it necessary to make full use of any free moment she had to unwind.
Ella was six years older and Ava couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d not been working to gain her big sister’s approval. No matter what Ella had ever asked of her, Ava had complied, hopeful for just one glint of acceptance in Ella’s eyes.
This time, though, Ava sensed they’d gone too far with the wrong man. Ava had never been above gett
ing whatever she could from a suitor and more times than not they had all gotten the best of Ava in return, but Darwin Tolliver hadn’t been one of Ava’s usual conquests. In fact, Ava hadn’t conquered Darwin at all and from their very brief exchange, she knew that she never would. Being so sure of that fact was why her blood pressure was skating on high.
Reading the male sex had always been her specialty and she had read Darwin like a good book. Ella hadn’t wanted to listen to her concerns, though, believing she had the situation under control. But Ava knew better. Ava knew when it came to a man’s soul, no woman but the one who had his heart could ever control anything else about him.
Ava sighed, filling her palms with warm water and allowing it to flow slowly through her fingers and back into the tub. She needed to figure a way out of this mess before it got any worse. She loved her sister dearly and though she was no stranger to controversy, she couldn’t afford to let this fiasco come back to bite her on the behind.
An hour later Ava was dressed for another night on the town. She was having dinner with an old friend, a man who’d proven himself useful when she’d least expected it. If she’d had a choice, she would have preferred to just crawl into her bed with the new Deborah Fletcher Mello novel she’d picked up at the bookstore. But she needed to ensure that if her friend’s services were ever needed down the road that the few hours of her attention he’d receive tonight would be credit against any future favors she might need.
Bridget had closed down the law library, the staff locking the doors behind her as she’d left. Her research had gone better than expected and she was excited to get to Darwin to tell him what she had planned.
As she followed the traffic into downtown Seattle, she mulled over the information she’d discovered about Ava and how she might be able to use that to their benefit. Ava’s history was interesting to say the least, but there was something vulnerable, almost fragile about the woman’s persona that seemed way out of character for the image she portrayed.
Darwin was standing on his front stoop, peering into his mailbox when she pulled into the driveway. Biscuit was sniffing the grass at the bottom of the steps, her tail wagging, excited to be out in the fresh air. The dog yipped as Bridget approached, racing down the walkway to greet her.
Bridget swept the puppy up in her arms and hugged it to her chest, scratching the fur behind the animal’s ears. “Hi, Biscuit,” she chimed as she climbed the two steps up to where Darwin stood. “Hi, you,” she said with a wide grin.
Darwin grinned back, leaning in to kiss her mouth before greeting her. “Hey, sweetheart. You are right on time. I was just starting to miss you.”
Bridget was slightly taken aback by the gesture. There was a comfort and familiarity that Bridget had never experienced before. Her gaze met his and held it, allowing the emotion to caress both their spirits. Darwin’s smile was all-consuming and then he wrapped an easy arm around her waist as he guided her inside.
“How did your day go?” Bridget asked, dropping Biscuit down onto her special chair.
Darwin shrugged, his smile fading noticeably. “Taping was great, but then anytime I’m cooking, I feel better. Ella was still acting like I shouldn’t have a care in the world, but I still have a bad feeling about that woman. I don’t know, Bridget, I just keep getting the feeling like she’s trying to play me for a fool.”
Bridget nodded her understanding, leaning against the counter as Darwin dropped a pan of fresh pasta into a pot of boiling water. A concoction of red gravy simmered in a large saucepan, a melange of fresh Roma tomatoes, sweet onions, shiitake mushrooms, olives and cloves of garlic scenting the air. The aroma was intoxicating and Bridget took a deep inhale of air, the warmth of it filling her lungs. A pang of hunger suddenly cramped her stomach and she realized she’d not eaten anything since that buttered croissant at breakfast.
As if reading her mind, Darwin gestured toward the dining table. “The food is almost done. If you’ll set the table, I’ll get the garlic bread in the oven and we should be ready to eat in just a few minutes.”
Bridget moved around the table laying out the plates and silverware resting on top. “How would you feel about bringing a civil lawsuit against the tabloids and Ava St. John? The official charge against them would be malicious defamation,” she added, cutting an eye in his direction.
Darwin stopped in his tracks, a Teflon-coated baking sheet in his hand tilting toward the floor. “Are you serious?”
“Very. I think you have grounds for a civil suit. I also feel you should sue for no other reason than sheer principle. Two of the tabloids actually reported that you and Ava engaged in illicit sexual conduct based solely on a photo I think we can prove was manipulated. They blatantly lied.
“Ava has substantiated that lie with more lies, innuendo and overt comments that have cast a negative light on your reputation. I think they should all be held accountable for their actions.”
Darwin’s head bobbed up and down. He laid the baking sheet against the counter, sliding four slices of Texas toast on top, and then slid the pan into a heated oven. “Do you think we can win?” he asked, turning back to face her.
“I think we’ll eventually settle, but we want the attention, as well as a very public apology. And it’s that public attention we want more than anything else. We want people to know that you aren’t the man they’re making you out to be. I also think it will help us find out what the link between Ava and Ella is.”
“So you believe me about Ella?”
Bridget smiled, nodding her head. “I believed that you weren’t capable of doing what you’d been accused of. You just never gave me the chance to say so.”
He nodded his head ever so slightly. “Sorry about that.”
Bridget shrugged. “Did you know both women came from the same small town? How coincidental is that?”
“How did you find…” Darwin started, pausing to peer into the refrigerator for a bowl of grated Parmesan cheese “…that out?” he finished, tossing her a quick look.
“I did a little homework. It’s amazing what a girl can find out if she digs in just the right places.”
Darwin came to a standstill, turning to face her. His gaze locked with hers as he studied her intently. “Why are you doing all of this?” he asked. “I mean, I know why I want you to help me, but why are you actually doing it?”
Bridget pondered his question for only a brief moment. “I understand that your integrity means everything to you. You haven’t gotten this far in life being a man others couldn’t look up to. And now that you are a public figure you have the opportunity to be an admirable role model for other young black boys. I don’t want anyone or anything to taint that. You mean too much to me to ever let that happen,” she said, her voice dropping softly.
Darwin beamed and as his face glowed, it looked as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He reached to give Bridget another kiss, allowing his cheek to linger just briefly against her cheek. “Boy, I’m glad you’re my girl.”
Not sure how to respond, Bridget found herself blushing, her face flushing with heat. Opting to say nothing at all, she turned back to the table she’d been setting and lit the tall candles that sat in an arrangement of freshly cut flowers.
The mood in the room shifted and their dinner conversation touched every subject except Ava and a pending lawsuit. Both were grateful for the reprieve, their minds overly saturated by thoughts of what had happened to Darwin and the potential fallout. Bridget marveled at how easy the exchange between them was. They laughed and joked about things that were silly, of no true value, and both felt as if their spending time together was the most natural thing for them to do. Both Darwin and Bridget liked the fit, the way they meshed so comfortably with one another.
The evening moved into Darwin’s family room, the duo cuddled comfortably against each other on the sofa. The television was on, but the volume had been turned down low, barely audible over their chatter. Turning her attention to the screen, Brid
get reached for the remote and turned up the sound. TV One was showing a classic Tyler Perry comedy and before they knew it both were in near hysterics, laughing loudly at the lunacy of Madea and her kin.
Bridget kicked off her sandals and twisted her body sideways. She pulled her legs up on the arm of the couch and leaned her torso back against Darwin’s chest. The man wrapped his arms around her, pulling her comfortably into him as she leaned her head back and snuggled against his shoulder. Together they enjoyed the televised mirth, but it soon became obvious that they were enjoying being in such close proximity more. They grew comfortable in that position, neither giving any thought to moving during the commercial breaks.
The aroma of patchouli incense billowed from a small burner on the coffee table and in the dimly lit room, the faint glow of the television provided most of the light. Darwin traced his fingers up and down the length of her bare arm, marveling at the sheer beauty of her dark skin, its rich color melding nicely against his own. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating and he inhaled deeply, sucking in the scent of her as if his life depended on it. Thoughts of touching her, and tasting her, and feeling himself lost within her raged like wildfire across his mind.
He cupped his palm beneath her chin and lifted her mouth to his, tasting the soft silk of her lips. The touch was easy and sweet, just the barest caress of flesh against flesh. He deepened the embrace, his lips skating anxiously across hers. Darwin captured her mouth beneath his, his tongue seeking sanctuary with hers. He could feel his heart begin to race, perspiration beading against his brow.
Bridget shifted upward, both of her palms pressing hot against his chest. Darwin’s own hand reached out to stroke the length of her back, his fingers snaking across the shelf of her buttocks. Bridget moved against him, pressing the fullness of her breasts against his chest, her abdomen kissing his. He boldly reached one hand up between them to cup her breast, his fingers dancing against the protrusion of nipple that swelled hard and full beneath his touch. The other hand trailed seductively along the edge of her skirt, tickling the line of her thigh as he tiptoed to the edge of her black silk panties. Heat radiated from her core and with his eyes closed, Darwin imagined he could hear her heart beating in sync with his, both panting heavily as they yearned for more.
Always Means Forever Page 10
