An Alpha's Desire

by Amarie Avant

  “You're sorely wrong there, Des. If I give someone a job, they better fulfill. But he could have reached out to me before proposing to Juliet. Like I said, in the past it was like tug of war, allocating enough time with my sister because nobody loved her but me. So, I don't know him well enough to consent to this engagement.”

  I pause for a moment. Juliet and Lee have disappeared under the archway which leads to the front door. “Daniel, she's growing up. Concentrating on the past won’t do anything for the here and now. She's twenty…”

  “Twenty. Twenty years old and too young to marry. Imagine yourself as a foster child living with another kid who receives all the attention and love. I don't know what's worse, children who come from broken homes, living with a parent who disregards their presence,” Daniel says and instantly I consider Lauren and Riley, “or actually having family. A father. Grandparents. A fucking family at the tip of your fingers. It's like being on the outside looking in. My grandmother, Marilyn, actually hugged Jules when Wentworth I wasn't around. But Marilyn regarded her with a nod or a single word if he was there.”

  “Didn't you all have Odessa?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  In an empathetic murmur, I state, “I can't imagine her life. My parents always put me first. But I've read an article that indicated as long as you have one lifelong connection, you'll thrive. She had you and Odessa.” I start to ask if Odessa was around for the whole length of their childhoods but a husky voice calls out.

  “Y'all betta get out that car!”

  Out of the side window is a woman with silvery hair, puffy and slightly straightened all down her shoulders and back. She's a cinnamon complexion. She rubs a hand over her muumuu saying, “Oh, nobody told me they were coming by today! Baby, I should've put on my Sunday best.”

  “You look gorgeous as ever,” Daniel says, “but I do believe you owe me some meatloaf.”

  “Oh, my Lord.” She swats a cup towel in his direction while Daniel holds the door for me. Odessa glances at me up and down, a large beam on her face. “Well, ain't she a pretty one.”

  Daniel makes introductions and I'm pulled into another huge hug. Only my mother’s side of the family shows this much affection. My father’s side is full of an array of characters, and they all depend on my father when necessary. It feels like the holidays, and smells just as grand, as Odessa shows us the house.

  Juliet and Lee are standing in the entryway. The beige walls are covered in family photos.

  While the siblings gravitate toward the kitchen, Odessa gives Lee and I a tour.

  “My husband and I purchased this house in 1967, God rest his soul…”

  As we walk through the house, Lee mentions that the home has character. I agree.

  “Hell, try telling Daniel that. He’s tricked me into meeting with many realtors over the past few years. He has a good heart but didn't do much growing up here. Only summers and some of my vacations away.”

  I start to ask her about that but we've headed toward the kitchen. Though this house doesn't have paper thin walls, like current models, Juliet’s voice carries. “I want honey fried chicken. There’s chicken already thawing in the refrigerator.”

  The sibling rivalry is real as Daniel retorts, “Well that can be cooked too, but I’m having my meatloaf.”

  Juliet tries to grab the package of meat her brother is pulling out of the freezer. “Fat chance. Mama Odessa told me she hasn't made your favorite since finding out about all of your women!”

  In an instant, Daniel’s mistresses invade my mind. Rationalizing them as a ‘mistake’ in his past goes out the window as my demeanor stiffens.

  Daniel notices me first while Juliet argues, “You’re in love with the cocoa now, anyway. Why not let us eat honey fried chicken?”

  “Juliet…” Daniel speaks up.

  “Whatever, Goldie. You've waited months. She can make your fav tomorrow, player, player,” Juliet jokes. Her laughter fazes out as she turns on her heels.

  Lee is by my side. He rubs the back of his head, fully aware of what Juliet is joshing about. And finally, Daniel’s baby sister is aware of my presence. The silly grin on her face fades away.

  “I have a big mouth.” She grimaces. “I'm sorry.”

  “It's fine,” my voice echoes in my ears. With that said, I turn on my heels. Odessa is reprimanding her. Lee and Daniel are too as I scurry into the bathroom.

  Ushering out a long stream of air through my nostrils, I descend onto a closed toilet top. I reach into my phone. Uber. Lyft. A fucking taxi.

  Oh, my God, why have I placed myself in this situation? I'm his mistress.

  Perhaps I'm the only one, but I'm his black mistress. And he can enjoy his cake and eat—fuck that. He can enjoy his meatloaf and eat that too!

  I search a taxi number on my phone. There's a knock at the door.

  “Des, let me in,” Daniel whispers.

  “I just need a second.”

  “Please, let me in.”

  I turn the knob and the button lock pops out. He's in my space in seconds, caressing a hand over my face.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please, we need to discuss a few things,” Daniel says, gray eyes almost warmly liquefied with concern. “Juliet… Juliet and I have a bad sense of humor at times but she wasn't aware you were standing there. She's sorry.”

  “Daniel, I'm all right, really. Juliet didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, so why should I need an apology from her?”

  “Des, she talked out of turn.”

  I wave him off, hardly able to touch him. He doesn’t deserve the cold shoulder, but… “I'm going to use the restroom. Go back, baby. I don't want to create a scene.”

  His head cocks just so. He doesn't believe me. Hell, my skin is lit with fire. Juliet made a mistake. Damn it, she was only joking, yet I cannot glance at Daniel without the image of one of his gorgeous mistresses wrapped in his arms!

  “Please,” I offer.

  He nods hesitantly, his love for me clear as day on his broad shoulders. I close the door just as his boots move to the opposite side of the doorframe.

  Stop thinking, Desirenda. Make the call. I do. The taxi company says they have a car en route. I'll be picked up in ten minutes.

  Nine minutes later, I step out the bathroom. Why did I react? Fuck him. He doesn't really love me. He… he's amused by… the length of time it took to screw me—his words not mine. Maybe my head game was all that. Maybe my pussy is the— I stop lying to myself. There’s no telling why Daniel Rutledge remained interested in me past the first sexcapade.

  And then the rebuttal worms through my mind as I head toward the front door. Daniel more than pleases my body. Regardless of sex, he holds me like he loves me… I glance out the window and no vibrant yellow taxi is outside. I ponder over the orchids at the hotel and the thoughtful way he prepared for my arrival in Dallas with the exhilarating jet diving over our heads. Damn it I even think like a mom, considering the way Riley bonded with him. Biting my bottom lip, I scan the photos on the wall. There are a good number of pictures of Daniel at all ages.

  Shit, he reminds me of my first and only white boy crush. Child star Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

  Then I glance out the window. Nothing.

  Back to the photos. I pick up an eight by ten on the heavy wooden chest. There are two women. One reddish brown who looks like a late teens, early twenties version of Odessa. The other has to be early thirties, is the darkest shade of mahogany, and her hair makes me wish I hadn't cut mine. Long, thick, lustrous. Both shapely.

  “Oh, you picked up the prettiest photo of them all,” Odessa says. She comes beside me.

  “Is that you?”

  “Yes, when I had hips and men twisted their ankles and neck just to tip their hats and say hello. Oh, but Tamar, the men did even more. They'd sing to her. A couple of ‘em took off their coats in the rain. Dropped them in rain puddles just so Tamar could walk across the street.”

  I
smile. “Is that your sister or mom? She's gorgeous too.”

  “Tamar was my oldest sister. Fifteen years older. And she was a thousand times prettier than I was. Our parents named her after the Tamar in the Bible. When they got to me, Faith, Hope, and Mary were already taken. And well, my father had no sons so Odin Junior was out and Odessa was in.” She laughs. “Tamar was a teacher. Momma used to argue with her about the community pool and not because of the boys. No, they would stare something fierce. Momma would tell her to wear sunscreen even when it stormed saying they won't desegregate no schools if you get blacker no matter how pretty you are. Well obviously, my mom was wrong. Tamar and Nolan used to boycott something fierce.”

  “Nolan?”

  “Oh, Wentworth I. Being the youngest, I used to call him Winnie. As the baby, I could do no wrong, but he'd jokingly argue about Winnie the Pooh. At times I referred to him as Nolan, like his closest friends often did, and sometimes when I wanted my way, Winnie worked wonders.”

  “Did your families grow up together?”

  “Yes and no. My momma was the head chef at the Rutledge home in Connecticut. Nolan’s father came from down south. Our Daniel’s grandfather, Fredrick, loved him some food. He had dinner at one of the most famous restaurants in Dallas. Fredrick demanded to know who the chef was and the owner almost peed his pants. That was back when black folks didn’t cook for white folks in upscale restaurants. Being who Fredrick Rutledge was, the man confessed. Fredrick stole my momma, yes, he did! Moved her, my daddy, and I think they had at least five kids by then on up north. My mom was high yella. She loved to tell you how pretty being just about white was. She said it was one of the reasons they loved her so much. Nah, it was because her scrawny, yella ass could cook.”

  I laugh at that.

  “My momma took pride in her position, though. But the Rutledges said a lot of mean things behind closed doors—I bet that's where my momma’s brown paper bag challenge came in handy. Momma kept us away from them, Tamar the most. Tamar wasn't all that interested in those folks anyway. She kept her black ass with a book in hand.” Odessa smiles fondly. “Nolan wasn't like them. When she became a teacher and harped about classroom accommodations for black folk, Nolan listened.”

  Her story has hammered a nail into my previous image of Wentworth Rutledge I. So he couldn’t have been racist? But he hated Juliet…oh, yeah, his son’s wife cheated so she isn’t really his family.

  “And you? How did you become so close to Daniel?”

  “I sort of passed the paper bag challenge. Just kidding.” Odessa taps her hand against her leg with a chortle. “Not many of my older sisters cared for cooking. Most of them moved back down here when they became adults. I was probably one of the only ones as a child to help Momma cook in that big house. Thus allowing me to get to know Nolan when he’d come home at times as an adult for dinner. But when I got old enough, I followed my other siblings.”

  Odessa nods toward an army photo of her husband.

  “I got a call from Nolan when Daniel was about four or five. Daniel’s dad, rest his soul, wasn't about anything. My husband was serving so I went to help. Off and on until Celine died…your taxi.”

  So, she's always been there for Juliet. My eyebrows furrow.

  “Your taxi is here,” Odessa repeats.

  “You were leaving?” Daniel’s voice shocks me despite being laden with shock and pain. What astonishes me the most is how I turn around to see him. He pushes from a comfortable position against the hallway wall.

  Had he listened to Odessa’s entire story?

  Shame causes my pupils to rise short of the occasion, and I nod. I turn on the heels of my shoes to leave.

  Daniel

  Desire has been in the bathroom entirely too long. After leaving her presence, I tried not to focus on the sadness I had inadvertently caused. I always thought working with The Madame was a better choice than picking up a woman at the bar when I felt inclined.

  Odessa removes a large bowl in the refrigerator with foil over it. The meatloaf had been marinating all along. She'd just taken out a pack of chicken before we arrived because Jules had texted her when landing.

  A few minutes later, Odessa said she’d check on Desire, and I stayed put.

  And now, Desire nods her head ‘yes’ about leaving.

  “You're not taking a fu—a taxi.” I censor my words as Odessa moves past me, headed to the kitchen.

  Desire’s voice is barely audible. “I don't like this feeling, Daniel.”

  I step closer to her.

  She shakes her head before I can touch her. “I have standards. Not to say I'm better than you, but I wasn't raised to be okay with certain things. For example, I couldn't date a man with kids. The man might be the best father in the world, but I have a zero-tolerance policy for baby mama drama. And I sure as hell can’t do this.”

  She turns on her heels, and heads for the front door.

  I pause for a second, let her think she's getting away when in actuality, I'll have more of an advantage outside. I grab the door just before it can close in my face, step out, and press it closed.

  She's already scurrying toward the taxi. Before she can reach the back door, I open the front, pull out my money clip, and toss a few crisp hundreds onto the front seat.

  “You are no longer needed. This is for the inconvenience.”

  “Thanks!” The guy reaches over, grasping the money.

  Desire tries for the door. “Actually, I need you to take—”

  I grab her arm and pull her to my chest, then I smile at him. “You should go.”

  “Miss, are you all right?” His gratitude has soured into concern of a domestic dispute.

  “Please let me talk to you. If we can’t resolve this, I’ll take you home,” I whisper to her.

  “She’s fine,” I tell him.

  “Ma'am?” he pauses.

  Desire rolls her eyes away from me and nods quickly at him. I guide her toward the front passenger door of my car.

  “Where are we going?”

  “A nice ride. That's how I cope. And you can tell me all the ways I put you off.”

  ###

  The sun is on a downward spiral, reflecting pure gold off mirrored skyscrapers as the gray-and-white Titan helicopter I'm maneuvering hovers through the air.

  “I'm a big fucking fan of fast cars and jets, but a slower pace is better for us,” I say through the microphone connected to my headphones, glancing at Desire.

  She’s offered the silent treatment for over an hour. Finally, she pulls the microphone on her headset down toward plush lips. “Okay, you're right. We have to hash things out.”

  “Damn right we do. My only regret is we should’ve had this discussion sooner.” My heart is still heavy. I've already got a hard case of abandonment from Celine, and adding Juliet’s past needs to the equation only causes more of an explosion when I noticed Desire making her great escape.

  She didn't want shit to do with me? She wanted to leave me?

  Are we at square one, again?

  “Daniel, I can say the cliché ‘it's not you it's me line.’” Her tone is full of remorse. “But it is me.”

  I steer the helicopter around a skyscraper building. I subtly glance at her again. “Keep talking.”

  She shifts somewhat in her seat. “I have different expectations. Not high expectations, but different nonetheless.”

  “You keep telling me you don't see yourself as better than me, Des. Who do you see yourself with?”

  I catch the grimace on her face before returning to navigation.

  “All right, so it's partially you, your mistresses and…”

  “And?” I tip my head, nudging her to continue.

  “And … and I have always seen myself married to an educated, black man.”

  “That's out of the question. You belong to me.” I reach over to paw her leg. “But why?”

  “I'm a nostalgic person. I have the best father in the world.” She pauses to gasp at the Foun
tain Place, a mirrored skyscraper. “That's beautiful, how the sunset reflects against that building.”

  “Yes, it is,” I reply. “Back to the subject. You wanted a man like your father.”

  “Yes, not any man at all.”

  “Hence all the bad dates? They never met your expectations.”

  Her chortle comes out somewhat static. “They all weren't anal assholes. But, not many black men have tried to claim me. Besides the guy who moved for work, I haven't had a serious relationship. Before then, it was all balls bashing and hating men when Lauren was dogged out by the last player—and player. When Juliet made the reference to you… I…”

  “Don't freeze on me now, Desire.”

  “Can't I enjoy the scenery?” She turns in her seat to get a full view of the land, namely the Reunion Tower.

  “Not until we are fully understood. It takes a lifetime to get to know someone, but damn it, you know I'm stubborn. Set in my ways. And I'm in love with you.”

  “I know…” Either the volume on my headset has lowered or Desire doesn't believe in us yet.

  “That being said, I'm loyal to a fault. I would never cheat on you because I see myself murdering any motherfucker who tried so much as to touch you let alone take you from me. And they would make me a bigot for my strong convictions if the situation weren't reversible. Jada, Scarlett, and Ariana were how I enjoyed my free time. They all had busy schedules, so the arrangements were very crystal clear. I didn’t see myself as prepared to settle down until thirty-five, forty even. Having a contract placed a buffer against emotions. And then I met you.”

  “Okay, Daniel. I apologize for trying to leave.” She sighs.

  “Desire, I'm very busy. I blew off a thousand meetings to have you here. We will work on the dynamics of my lifestyle, but those three women, I respect them and we have all parted ways amicably. It's only you and I, until we’re old enough to share the same reading glasses.”

  Desire

  I feel like crying. The moment Daniel said their names, a tightness stretched across my chest.