Hudsons Crossing

by Altonya Washington

  “Well?” Misha prompted once silence had ensued for many moments.

  Talib’s laughter was brief, but it was there. “In person, Misha.”

  “Why?”

  “Humor me.”

  “I only humor friends.”

  “Of which you have many.”

  She clenched her teeth. “Goodbye, Talib.”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll meet you at your office around lunchtime.”

  “Talib—”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Humph,” she sniffed when the call ended. “I just won’t be there when you come by.” She spoke into the dead line, knowing all the while that she’d be there and counting the hours till he arrived. Would she ever stop being a fool for that man?

  Casting Talib Mason’s arousing image from her mind, Misha concentrated on preparing a platter of fruits, cheese, veggies, crackers and spread.

  “Hey, Riley, what do you want to drink?” she called when she ran out into the hall. “Riley!” She moved farther down the hall. When her third call went unanswered, she went to the bedroom and called out again.

  Riley wasn’t in the bedroom, and for good measure, Misha took a quick look inside the adjoining bath. Nothing prepared her for the sight of her best friend passed out on the floor.

  Chapter 17

  Confusion replaced the sleep in Riley’s eyes when she woke later that evening to find herself tucked into bed.

  “Me and Dr. Lett got your butt in bed after you passed out in the bathroom.” Misha’s face loomed above Riley as she sat on the edge of the bed and explained.

  “Passed out?”

  “Mmm…”

  Riley winced and ran a hand down the side of her face. “Dr. Lett?”

  “Mmm…”

  “Hell, Misha, why’d you call her?”

  “Hey, I see my best friend, who’s pregnant with my nephew, passed out on the floor. Who’d you think I’d call? The cable guy?”

  “Now she’s probably gonna want to put me on bed rest.” Riley rolled her head across the pillow.

  “No probably about it, sista. This bed is gonna be your new best friend for the next several weeks.”

  Riley’s resulting groan was drowned by Lettia walking into the room and ordering her to hush.

  Riley sighed. “Lett—”

  “My mind’s made, so don’t even try to change it,” replied Lettia.

  “Since when do you make house calls?” asked Riley.

  Lettia’s sour expression did nothing to mar her lovely features. “It’s a service I provide to my most hardheaded patients. Putting the fear of God in them usually does the trick.”

  “Lett—”

  “Riley, do you understand that the first few months of pregnancy are the most delicate? Are you trying to lose this baby, hon?”

  “What’s wrong, Lett?” Riley’s eyes were wide with concern then.

  “Shh. The baby’s fine.” Lettia leaned over the foot of the bed and squeezed Riley’s foot. “Mommy’s blood pressure, however, is way up, and with stress and work, that’s a bad combination, hon.”

  Riley remained quiet as she considered her doctor’s words.

  “Now, I’ve been on the phone with Ms. Virginia.” Lett raised a hand when Riley sat up straight. “I can’t think of a better person to make sure you follow orders.”

  Misha’s expression was alive with humor as she struggled not to laugh over Riley’s reaction. “Girl, you’re lucky your mom’s around and a retired nurse. Besides, who can cook her butt off like Ms. V?” She slapped hands with Lettia, who’d sampled Virginia Stamper’s cooking and fully agreed.

  “So that’s it, Riley. You can either stay here or go to your mom’s place. Of course, there’s always the hospital.” Lettia tacked that on when Riley’s expression showed no signs of brightening.

  “You don’t have to decide right away.” Misha reached out to fluff the pillows behind Riley’s back. “I’ll be staying the night with you.”

  “But I want you in my office as soon as you’re on your feet tomorrow. I want to run a few tests to make sure my diagnosis is correct.”

  “But you’re sure the baby’s all right?” asked Riley.

  Lettia took pity and pulled Riley into a hug. “My nephew is fine.”

  Riley gasped. “Nephew? We haven’t even done an ultrasound yet.”

  Lettia shrugged and exchanged a wink with Misha. “Just a feeling,” she sang and left the room.

  Misha was up bright and early the next morning to get the paper and prepare breakfast. She celebrated Riley’s penchant for subscribing to the competition but could’ve done without the nifty little exposé in the entertainment section of the First Beacon. She admitted those pictures did look far from innocent when run next to the damaging words in the article they accompanied.

  Misha took note of the byline, Justine Duke. Her eyes narrowed as the realization that this was her former colleague dawned. “Second time you’ve hurt someone I care about, bitch. I think it’s time for a reunion.”

  A key scratched the lock, and Misha held the paper against the front of the T-shirt she’d borrowed from Riley.

  Asher made his way inside. His weary expression took on a humble sheen when he spotted Misha in the kitchen doorway.

  She held up the paper. “Are you here about this?”

  He smirked. “Saw it. Not interested.” He tossed his keys on the message table. “Here to talk, and not about that.”

  Satisfied, Misha tossed aside the paper and returned to her kitchen duties.

  Asher entered the bedroom slowly and smiled, watching his wife in bed as she studied a book while glancing infrequently at the TV. He knocked once.

  “Good morning,” he greeted when she fixed him with a stunned expression. “Do you mind?”

  Riley shook her head toward the remote he held with the intention of lowering the television’s volume. Coolly, she turned over the book she’d been studying and watched him sit on the edge of the bed.

  Cupping her neck in one hand, he squeezed gently and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry.”

  “Asher, those pictures were—”

  “Don’t, don’t,” he soothed, massaging her neck then. “You don’t need to explain. I know what a fool I was.” He grimaced while gnawing the inside of his cheek. “Guess I should apologize to Grovers.”

  Riley seemed to shudder. “Send him an e-mail.”

  They laughed for a while, and then Asher leaned over, as though the weariness had reclaimed him. He sat bracing his elbows on his knees.

  “I spent last night doing a lot of thinking.” Straightening, he turned back to her, then trailed his hand down her chest, stopping to cup a breast and then her belly. “I can’t let anything go wrong here. A wise person informed me that it’s not about us anymore. Our fears and hang-ups need to sit on simmer for a while. What’s been going on between us can’t be good for the baby.”

  Riley looked away. She didn’t want to be reminded of the fear she felt when Lettia walked into her bedroom the previous evening.

  “We both need to focus on the baby,” he was saying, rubbing the hem of her T-shirt between his fingers. “You’ve got a tougher job to handle than me, I know, but it’s up to me to get out of the way so you can handle it.”

  Riley frowned at his word choice. His handsome features revealed nothing, so she waited.

  “I’m gonna move over to the hotel where Talib is.” He cleared his throat uncertainly but then continued. “We’ve been getting tons of calls—new business after the deal we scored for Vic.” He tugged at the rolled cuffs of his wrinkled shirt. “We need to get some things in place before it’s time to leave.”

  “You won’t be here?” That was the only fact from Asher’s speech that Riley locked on.

  His first response was a crooked grin. “I know my timing’s poor, based on what you already suspect I’m about.”

  “Asher—”

  “Hey, shh…” He leaned in to murmur against her mouth. “We
can’t argue about this. My being here is doing you more harm than good.”

  “Is this the only way?” Her voice was heavy with emotion.

  “It’s the best way. We’re constantly at it, and I don’t like it. Do you?”

  “No.” She couldn’t look at him. When his mouth brushed her cheek and stilled there for a time, she shut her eyes to ward off tears.

  “I’m gonna grab a few things. I’ll be back later for the rest.”

  Riley watched him push off the bed and clenched a fist to keep from pulling him back. She glanced at the book she’d been studying and shook her head, as if changing her mind. She withdrew into herself while Asher made quick work of collecting a few of his belongings. She heard him calling her name and managed to free herself from the haze to concentrate on his words.

  “Misha’s preparing quite a feast in there, so I want you to eat up, all right?” He kissed her forehead and once again pressed his against hers.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Alone, Riley hugged herself and cried.

  Misha felt more like stopping by the paper once she’d showered, changed and accompanied Riley to her doctor’s appointment. Everything looked fine as far as the baby was concerned. She took Riley home and then went into the office. An hour later, she was hard at work.

  “This looks good, Rob, and have Jerry send those photos to my desktop by two!” Misha roared the order seconds before entering her office, where she found Talib Mason conducting business at her desk. She banged a fist against the leg of her trousers when he waved her forward, as though giving her permission to enter her own domain. Grimacing, she obliged while waiting for him to finish the call.

  “You have the nicest assistant.” Talib put his phone in the inside pocket of his slate-gray suit coat. “She told me I could wait here as long as I liked.”

  Misha curved her hands over the back of the chair she stood behind. “Yeah, she’s a sucker for a handsome face. Guess we have that in common.”

  Talib’s caramel-toned face was tinged with unmistakable regret. “I’m sorry for the things I said—the things I implied.”

  Misha refused to give in to the giddy fluttering of her heart. She narrowed her gaze, hoping he bought her cool display. “You know, the drama between us is too great and too varied to even bother with apologies, so let’s not, hmm? I think it’s way too late for that.”

  Talib watched her closely for a moment, and then he stood. “I hope it’s never too late for apologies.”

  Misha forbade herself to soften. “What do you want?” Her teeth clenched on the question. “What, Talib? For me to accept? All right then. I accept your apology, okay? Now you can go back to Phoenix guilt free. Have a good trip.”

  “Misha—”

  “Dammit, Talib!” She dropped the facade and let him glimpse the wetness in her eyes. “I’ve finally gotten used to the idea that I disgust you, so you’ll just have to excuse me if your sudden kindness scares the hell out of me.” Breathing deeply, as though the admission had drained her, she stepped back from the chair. “I’ve, um, I’ve got to check on some things…I hope you’ll be gone by the time I get back.” Without another word or glimpse, she left him alone in the office.

  After two weeks, Lettia rescinded her staunch orders to keep Riley in bed for an additional three. She did, however, insist that Nurse Stamper remain on call. Of course, the grandmother-to-be was more than pleased to do so.

  “And you’re sure this is the right move?” Misha was asking Riley for what had to be the twentieth time as they waited on their lunch partners.

  Riley shared a playful wink. “What do you expect me to do? I have to support your nephew, you know?”

  “I’m serious, Ri.” Misha leaned closer to the square table. “I thought with Asher gone, it’d give you time to think about what you could lose if you take this job.”

  Riley folded her arms over the cobalt knit top and scanned the dining room. “Unlike my marriage, my job’s the one thing I can control,” she muttered.

  Misha resituated her silverware. “Love and passion rarely go hand in hand with things you can control.”

  Before Riley could question her friend’s melancholy reply, she saw Asher being led to a table in the far corner of the room. Her heart lurched, as it usually did whenever she saw him or knew he was near.

  Misha was so very wrong, she thought. Her job did inspire love and passion, but the emotions didn’t hold a candle to what she felt for her husband. Riley noticed a few people joining him, and she was glad, because it stopped her from rushing over and begging him to come home. Asher was right, after all; the tension between them was too great now. It was time for them to put their child above it all. Mature thinking. If only she could stop herself from wanting her husband so.

  Riley felt it was perfect timing when her own lunch partners appeared at the table. Gloria Reynolds arrived with Beka Sherwood and Drake Gray in tow. The upper-level execs were from the publisher’s wing of Cache Media.

  “So is it safe to inquire whether we’re all on board with this project?” Gloria was asking once the introductions were out of the way.

  Riley cast a meaningful look at Misha and then nodded. “Yes, we’re all on board.”

  Asher had already noticed his wife across the dining room. He had a feeling that there was an official tone to the lunch and guessed she was moving forward in accepting the job offer.

  It was for the best, he knew, and he pressed his lips together while frowning over the documents he held. The waiter arrived shortly to take orders, and the conversation swelled over lunch requests.

  “Why don’t you go have a chat with you wife, eh?” Talib was studying his menu as he spoke. “This moving out thing is crazy—especially now.”

  “It’s because it’s especially now that I have to stay away.” Asher’s light eyes strayed toward Riley again. “I couldn’t survive if something happened to the baby or her because of the stress I’m causing in her.”

  As much as he wanted to, Talib couldn’t argue overmuch with his friend’s reasoning.

  The lengthy yet productive meeting with Gloria Reynolds and her staff was reaching its end. Riley had taken her third and, hopefully, final trip to the bathroom. She’d heard frequent toilet trips were a side effect of pregnancy, but she was barely showing. She was eager to see how many trips she’d graduate to when a weighty baby was resting on her bladder.

  Smiling, she gave herself the once-over in the wide lighted mirror above the row of sinks. Satisfied by how the chestnut-brown, Empire-waisted top hung past the waistband of her fitted cream pants, she headed out of the bathroom and right into Asher, gasping when they collided.

  He appeared as subdued as she once they’d both whispered hushed apologies. Silence hung for a time as they hungrily absorbed one another with meaningful looks. Asher was the first to break the spell.

  “I waited to stop and speak. Your, uh, lunch partners looked official.”

  “It’s about the job.” She wanted to swoon as the crisp scent of his cologne drifted past her nostrils.

  Asher nodded while bowing his head. “They looked happy. I guess you decided to take the job.”

  “Yeah.” Her gaze faltered.

  “Congratulations.”

  His mouth was crushing hers in a thorough kiss before she could even think to utter the words thank you. Riley melted onto him, grateful for the power in his hold as he cupped her bottom neatly in his palms.

  The kiss was just as powerful, with Asher’s tongue exploring and caressing every dark cavern of her mouth. Seconds into that, he taunted her tongue into a sensual duel with his own. Riley didn’t need much taunting. She was desperate for him and gasped her need without shame. The kiss deepened until he’d crowded her into the most remote corner of the hallway and helped himself to the feel of her lush curves.

  “Asher, please.” She raked her fingertips through the dark waves of his hair. “Please come home. I miss you.”

  He winced, d
eepening the kiss once more as her words skewered his heart. “It’s best this way.” He nuzzled the hollow beneath her ear, growing intoxicated by the light floral scent clinging to her skin.

  “Asher—”

  “I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.”

  “But you are hurting me.” Her moan bordered on a sob. “I need you.” Boldly, she cupped the stiff arousal that strained his zipper.

  Asher hissed a curse, weakened by the desire to give in and fueled by the need to do what was best. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers.

  “I’ll be over soon.”

  Riley’s smoky stare brightened. “Asher—”

  “It’ll be to get the rest of my stuff.”

  She seemed to deflate, using the wall for support when he kissed her cheek and walked away.

  A smiling Victor Lyne stood at the head of a long, elegantly designed table at dinner as host of a weekend retreat at his house in the Hamptons. He talked of dreams deferred and how fear of failure had kept him from going after his dream of playing pro ball.

  “I felt it was too much of a long shot,” he said, smiling crookedly while easing a hand into the pocket of the crisp khakis he wore. “I was also scared that even if I did grab the dream, I’d get caught up in some stupid lifestyle that would bring me down faster than any injury ever could.” He rubbed his hands together and shook his head. “So I did the responsible thing and finished my education, got a good job, met good people. You know, it’s funny how a dream deferred can turn into a dream revisited.”

  “Riley…” He smiled and raised his glass her way. “Working with you has been more than work. It’s been a learning experience about everything from politics to sports.” He paused when laughter rose from the guests filling the table. “And then I met your husband.” He raised his glass again, to Asher that time. “You’re all here this weekend because you all played a huge role in my life before I got a million-dollar contract.”

  “Multimillion-dollar contract,” Talib corrected to a swarm of laughter.

  Vic raised his hand as if he were about to testify. “Million-dollar or one-dollar, I consider you all the best people, and I expect you guys to keep my feet on the ground and tell me when I’m acting like a jackass.”