“Okay.”
I was also wondering if you could stay late today?” He tried to make sure not to behave as if only his time was valuable like some of the other attorneys, so he kept requests like this infrequent. “This case is proving to be very challenging.”
“Shall I order dinner?”
His gaze fell on the bright eyes, full lips and soft round cheeks in the photo on his desk and a wistful sigh escaped his lips. “Not for me. I’m going to try and have a late dinner at Gina’s, but order for yourself.”
“Thank you.” Corella returned to her desk.
He couldn’t suppress the smile demanding to shine at the mention of Regina’s name. Their schedules didn’t allow them to be together as much as he wanted, so careful planning was essential and difficult, but worth it. Things were going very well. They’d weathered their first argument with no scrapes. Regina thoroughly forgave him for his insensitive actions that night, so much so that talking about Jeremy slipped his mind.
By the time he remembered to tell her how angry knowing that Jeremy was not only hanging around her but was in her apartment made him, it was best to just let it drop. He’d botched things enough already on his own; there was no sense in putting her on the defensive, particularly since she was being cool about the whole Samantha debacle.
Knowing he would have a chance to talk and laugh with her fed his resolve to finish. During the nights he spent alone in his apartment, everything about Regina—her beauty, delightful laugh, wit and charm—flooded his mind. Phone calls weren’t enough. He wanted to be next to her, hearing about her life and sharing his. Eyeing the piles of paperwork on his desk, Simon pressed his lips together and released a sharp snort. I’m making it to Harlem tonight.
“Excuse me, Is this Simon Young’s office?” A knot formed in his stomach at the familiar voice drifting through the doorway. What in God’s name is she doing here? He closed and opened his eyes. Being overworked must be causing hallucinations—no such luck. Hands on hips and one leg sticking out, Samantha stood in front of Corella’s desk in her usual contrived pose.
Corella peered over her glasses, lips pursed at the sight of Samantha’s clinging dress that was so snug, it made one wonder if breathing was even possible. “Do you have an appointment?”
Samantha shifted her weight and pressed her shoulder back, obviously ready to serve Corella a stinging retort, but after making eye contact with Simon, she flicked her long, polished nails at the seated woman. “Oh, never mind. Simon.” She waltzed on eight-inch stilettos into his office, closing the door behind her.
“Son of a—.” Simon jumped and leaned his knuckles on his desk. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Samantha whisked a lock of hair behind her back and sighed. “Well, you refuse to have a friendly conversation on the phone or in the street. So, I decided to come here, where I know you’ll behave. Samantha looked around at her surroundings. “Nice office.” She pushed the pencil holder on the desk to the side with on finger. “Very—sparse.”
“Get out.” Simon crossed his arms. Why does she refuse to get the message that I have nothing to say to her? I’m in no mood to entertain any of her bull.
“Now is that nice?” She started to round the desk towards Simon but stopped when he shot her a warning glare. “I don’t know what happened to you. You used to be so charming.”
“You happened to me.”
“Me?” Simon rolled his eyes at the phony look of surprise and chagrin. She batted her mascara-laden lashes over her blue doe eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
There’d been a time that he would have been fooled by her, but he knew behind those eyes worked a sociopathic and manipulative mind. “You need to leave,” he hissed through gritted teeth. White-knuckled and heart pounding, he turned on his heel and approached the window. There needed to be as much distance as possible between them. He wanted to grab Samantha by her arm and fling her out of his office. Violence against a woman never crossed his mind before, but she was an exception.
“I will not. Come on, Simon. We had good times together.”
He stormed back to the desk. “Are you crazy?” The contents of the pencil cup splayed across the surface. Regina’s photo fell face-down with a soft thud. “You tore my life apart.”
Samantha rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re still angry about that? Damn it, Simon. We were young, and things were getting too serious.” He scoffed. Samantha continued, “I was terrified of the feelings I had for you, and besides, it was my decision to make, and it was a hard one.”
“I don’t think it was hard for you at all. Choosing daddy’s money and the ability to walk around without having to justify having me on your arm was quite easy for you.”
“It wasn’t,” her tone softened, “That’s why I’m here. You’ve been on my mind lately.”
“Too bad.”
“Simon, you can’t expect me to believe you’ve gotten over what we had.”
“Had—past tense. Let it go and move on, I sure as hell have.” He set Regina’s picture aright. As usual, she’s trying to act like all of her cheating and lying was no big deal. She’s never to blame for anything.
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, and I guess you’ve moved onto Miss Kinky Hair?”
“I’m warning you, Samantha.”
“Come on, Simon. You can’t be serious about her.”
“So that’s why you’re here? You saw us together, and it bothers you that I’m with a Black woman? You’re pathetic.”
“I'm not pathetic; I’m concerned. I mean, I knew I banged your heart a little but not bad enough to make you wind up messing around with someone like that.”
“Her name is Regina, and she is more woman than you can ever imagine to be.”
“It’s one thing to indulge in a little, what do they call it—swirl, but you’ll never get anywhere in life with her on your arm. You could never take her around important people. How do you expect them to accept someone like her and—” Simon glowered. She stepped back and turned her head towards the door.
Racist Bitch. Samantha didn’t finish her vile statement, but Simon knew exactly what she meant. How does he expect good White people to have an Asian and Black together at their dinner parties? Minorities were better tolerated in bits and pieces or at least as a matched set. It was one thing for him to be accepted, but he didn’t have the privilege for them to allow Regina in their circles with him.
It was bad enough that he worked with people who clutched onto their Whiteness and ignorance for dear life, but Samantha and her ilk were worse. They deluded themselves into thinking they were somehow progressive by cuddling with minorities and “slumming,” while all along their minds worked with the same racist motivations as someone with a white hood in the closet.
I’m not about to allow this shrew to malign the woman I love. Love? Yes, damn it–love. “You’re done. Don’t come anywhere near me again.”
Samantha lifted her chin and sneered. “Be as mad at me as you want, but you know I’m right, Simon. As long as you’re walking around with that Black Lives Matter poster girl, you’ll be stuck in this tiny office working twice as hard for attorneys making ten times as much.” Samantha slipped her dress off her shoulder, she fondled her cleavage along its neckline. “Let me know when you’re done eating fried chicken and want to come back to prime rib.”
Simon looked down at what Samantha was offering and leaned in until his lips barely touched hers. He stared deeply into her sultry eyes, halting her breath. “I wouldn’t touch you if you came dipped in gold.” He pushed the intercom button on his phone. “Corella.”
The door flew open within moments. “Yes, Simon?”
“Please, show this woman out.” He turned and stared out the office window at the city, trying to even his breathing.
“I guess you’re done here?” Hearing Corella’s voice, Simon looked over his shoulder. She and Samantha stood right outside of the office door. His assistant’s disdain w
as apparent from across the room. He moved in the direction of the two women, stopping at a safe distance and crossing his arms. This is gonna be good.
Samantha, claws ready, opened her mouth to speak. Corella raised her hand. “Before you get all distraught, I suggest you fix your dress.” Corella looked back and forth down the hallway and let her glasses dangle from their chain. “People may get the wrong idea about the kind of business you came her to conduct.” Retrieving a small book from her desk, she asked the wide-eyed Samantha, “Shall I validate your parking?”
“You know, I could get you fired.” Samantha narrowed the small distance between them. One corner of Simon’s mouth twitched at her attempt to intimidate a woman who didn’t scare easily. Corella made quick work of people unwise enough to step to her, and it looked like his ex-lover was about to join the ranks of “fools” as she called them.
“Maybe, but what you can’t do is get that man in there to give you the time of day.” Corella continued to stare at the furious blond, waving the pad back and forth in front of Samantha’s crinkled nose. “Well?” Corella leaned back just as Samantha flung her hair at his assistant’s face.
A small laugh escaped Simon’s lips. Samantha’s dressing down helped diminish the rage heaped inside him. The burning around his ears and twisting sensation in his stomach subsided.
“Corella.” He motioned for her to come to him with his finger.
Corella walked to him. “Yes, Simon?” she looked confident and unapologetic about her decision to take Samantha down a peg.
“Would you sue the firm for sexual harassment if I hugged you?”
She laughed and opened her arms. Simon rounded the desk. “Thank you.” His muscles relaxed further as Corella patted his back.
“You’re welcome. Now get to work so you don’t miss your late dinner with Regina.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reached back and pulled his chair underneath him.
“Oh, and Simon.” She retrieved a black card out of the trash can and held it in front of him. “It’s important for you to go to this one. You can’t avoid them all. The partners forget associates quickly, and a brilliant legal mind like yours shouldn’t be stuck in this office.”
He accepted the card. “I understand.”
“I knew you would. You should bring someone with you.”
Simon rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the photo on his desk. “I don’t know. This is not Regina’s type of crowd.”
“But it’s yours. You can’t keep your professional and personal lives separate all the time. Every so often, they will collide. Strap on a helmet, and ask the woman already.”
Chapter 14
Regina Makes Breakfast
Simon rolled his head, rubbing the twisted muscles at the base of his neck. Limbs resisted movement, and it was a struggle to keep throbbing eyes aching to be closed opened. Triumphantly, the last folder was placed in the bulging knapsack, and Mr. Young had all the exhibits needed for court. Now for the long ride home. I hope she’s still awake.
The empty corridor stretched to the elevators too far away for his sore legs to carry him. He traversed his way out of the empty offices. Reaching the subway entrance, he had a choice of destinations. The big comfortable bed in his apartment beckoned him from across the East River. The ride home was shorter than the one uptown, and the commute back to work would be far less arduous—but she wasn’t there. The choice was easy. He adjusted the garment bag over his aching shoulder and headed down the stairs.
***
Simon gently closed the apartment door. Guilt poked him at the sight of Regina lying on the sofa. She stretched and yawned as she sat. “I’m sorry, Babe.” The clinking sound of keys hitting the counter joined his hushed tone.
“You’re late, Young,” she said in a sleepy, sexy drawl as she shuffled towards him.
“I know. Sorry, I finished work later than I expected.” He used the blue light falling on the wall to find the hook for his jacket and garment bag. He’d planned every detail to make sure he could spend the night. He nuzzled her neck and breathed in her essence. Sliding his hands down her sides and drawing her hips to his, a new ache overtook him.
Regina put some distance between them. “Did you eat?” The soft swishing sound of her slippers stopped at the refrigerator. The light shone on her tank top, shorts and silk head wrap, highlighting her gently jiggling breasts as she pulled out a foil-covered plate. Simon couldn’t decide which he wanted to satiate more, his appetite or hunger for her. An insuppressible yawn escaping his lips helped him decide.
“No, and I’m starvin’.” He skirted passed her, reaching into the cabinet for the gochujang. “Thanks, Babe.” He made a few small circles on the round bottom he’d trekked up Manhattan to be near. It’d become that he couldn’t end the day without her, and when he was forced to, it was tortuous.
“No problem,” she said between yawns, “sit down. I’ll heat it up for you.”
She isn’t saying anything about eating hot sauce so late? She must be tired. “I got it. You go to bed. I’ll be in.” There was no protest, only the weight of the plate in his hands and a soft kiss from Regina before she shuffled into the bedroom. Once the hum of the microwave assured his stomach that a longed-for meal was coming, Simon reached in his jacket pocket for the folded cocktail party invitation Corella gave him and balanced on a stool.
It’s important for you to go to this one. Flipping the invitation back and forth in his hand, Simon recalled Corella’s words. A flurry of reasons not to ask Regina flooded his mind. She’d have to be around Vince Deckland and his ilk, ready to spew a bunch of microaggressions all over her. Does what we have include Gina fulfilling girlfriend duties like going to work cocktail parties? She may say no. Not that I would blame her. I don’t want to go to the damn thing.
His stomach rumbled at the beeping sound and even more when the aroma of Regina’s cooking drifted into his nose. Simon devoured the delicious fare and used the little energy left in his aching carcass to drag himself out of the kitchen. After brushing, he expertly navigated the now familiar bedroom to his side of the bed with only silver rays spilling through the window to light his way. Having relieved himself of an article of clothing with each step, only boxers were left as he crawled into the bed he’d coveted being in all week. He found Regina’s warm, soft body among the cool sheets and drew her into the curve of his, soothing away the stresses and strains of the day. Definitely worth the trip. Burying his nose into her silk head wrap, he breathed in the scent of her, falling asleep to the sound of her soft snore.
***
Regina yawned and stretched under the sheets, batting her eyelids and smiling when her gaze focused on Simon’s sleeping face. She barely remembered him coming to the apartment, but it was nice to wake up with him there, especially since he could’ve just taken the train home. He deserves a nice breakfast.
She wiggled her hips and gently pushed Simon’s leg trapping her to the bed. She sidled towards the edge, but his hand tensed on her breast. He drew her back into the curve of his body and pressed his morning wood against her. She sighed when it relaxed and deep breaths continued. Unbelievable, he’s even horny in his sleep. I better get up before he wakes, or we’re not going to get out of this bed. She slipped out of Simon’s embrace, swung her legs over the side of the bed and scrunched her toes in her cool, furry slippers. Her legs jutted out of the front of her robe as she headed to the kitchen.
The sputtering sound of the coffee maker welcomed her along with the aroma of fresh brew. Regina grabbed a mixing bowl from the cabinet and reached for the carton of brown organic eggs in the refrigerator. She tapped an egg against the edge of the bowl and opened it with one hand. The yellow and clear contents spilled and swirled against the white ceramic vessel, settling at the bottom. Preparing breakfast for Simon before he left for work almost made her feel domestic, which she never pictured herself being. She was not the Suzy Homemaker type, but it was nice anticipating how much he would enjoy ea
ting what she made for him—once he managed to tame his massive erection and get out of bed.
She hovered the next brown orb over the bowl and stared at a black card next to her hand. After reading it, she began to slightly freak out. It’s an invitation. Does he want me to go? Maybe that’s why he left it on the counter? Regina swallowed a lump in her throat. “I need to talk to Toni. Where’s my phone?” Careful not to wake Simon, she tiptoed into and out of the bedroom then dialed.
Toni answered. “Wow, Simon’s got you up early.”
“Where’s Marc?”
“Don’t worry, he’s out for his morning run. What’s goin’ on? You were talking so much about finally gettin’ to see Simon, I figured the two of you would still be…um…busy.”
“You’re too hilarious.” Regina rolled her eyes at the sound of Toni’s giggling. “We need to talk.”
“What is it?”
“I found an invitation to a cocktail party at Simon’s firm.”
“And?”
“It was on the counter.” Regina returned to cracking eggs in the bowl and lit the flame under the pan on the stove. “What do you think it means?”
“I think it means that someone at Simon’s firm is throwin’ a party.”
Regina poured the eggs in the pan and jumped at the clicking sound of the bedroom door. Clutching the front of her robe, she allowed breath to flow in and out of her chest again when the bathroom door shut. “Simon’s up.” She stirred the eggs and watched them puff in the pan. “I can’t talk for long.”
“Well, has he even asked you?”
“No. He’s been asleep.” Steaming eggs bounced on the white plate. Regina wrinkled her nose at the few tiny specks of brown invading the yellow mounds. So much for the special breakfast I planned.
“Oh, so you’re panicking over nothing then?”
“Basically.”
“I’m gettin’ in the shower.”
My Way to You (Brothers in Law Book 1) Page 10
