Somebody's Gotta Be on Top

by Mary B. Morrison

  “Okay, Solomon. You have exactly one hour. I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

  “Me too.” Solomon pressed thirty-two on the elevator.

  When the doors opened, Ciara followed Solomon to the room. She glanced to the right, left, and behind her.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Solomon laughed while opening the door.

  “Suspecting is more like it,” Ciara said, glancing at Solomon’s dick.

  “I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. He’s happy to see you but don’t worry. He’s under control.” Solomon locked the door and kissed Ciara.

  Ciara pulled away. “Look, if this is why you invited me here, I’ve got to go.”

  “No, look. I’m sorry. I apologize. It’s just that I didn’t realize how much I love you until you were gone. Took my keys. Stop returning my calls. I miss you, baby.”

  “Well, Solomon, you should’ve done better. I was tired of telling you what I wanted. You didn’t listen. Or perhaps you didn’t hear me. But either way, it’s too late.”

  Ciara wanted to kiss Solomon. She wanted him to hold her in his arms again. She turned away from the bed. Her pussy pulsated for Solomon’s mushroom-head to thrust deep inside her. Ciara wanted to unzip Solomon’s pants and suck his dick until his cum exploded all over her throbbing titties. Attempting to redirect her focus, Ciara shook her head.

  “I ordered lunch for us. Have a seat.” Solomon patted the empty space on the loveseat.

  “I’ll sit over here in the chair,” Ciara said, tossing her purse on the bed.

  Knock knock. “Room service.”

  Solomon opened the door. The waiter rolled the cart in. “You can just leave it. Thanks.” Solomon scribbled on the bill, handed it back to the waiter, then locked the door.

  “Smells good. But I can’t have any champagne. It’s too early. What else did you order?”

  Solomon set Ciara’s plate in front her, spread her napkin in her lap, and kissed her lips. Ciara placed the back of her hand against Solomon’s forehead and asked, “Are you running a fever?”

  Solomon pressed his moist lips against her hand like it was her pussy.

  Pulling her hand away, Ciara asked, “Solomon, why couldn’t you be more like this when we were together?”

  “Stupid, I guess. Thinking you’d never leave me.” Solomon set up his plate. He uncovered Ciara’s tossed green salad with grilled chicken in peanut sauce and his slab of baby back ribs.

  “So, you can’t be serious about this guy. You just met him.”

  “Who said I was seeing anyone? Solomon, I waited three years for you. For what? Nothing. And I’m afraid even if I stay with you, you’ll revert to your old ways.”

  “Give me a chance to prove you wrong. I filed for my divorce.”

  Ciara whispered, “What?”

  “She didn’t contest it. Said I beat her to it. Soon I’ll be a legally single man.”

  Ciara whispered again, “What?”

  “Baby, losing you woke me up. I want you back in my life. I miss you.”

  Ciara focused on the meaty rib entering Solomon’s mouth. A clean bone slid out. Ciara picked at her baby green lettuce. Why was this happening? Darius was so wonderful. But, she loved Solomon not Darius. Even if Darius had so much more to offer. He was a better business partner. They could talk business for hours and not grow tired. But she loved Solomon. Ciara quietly began to cry.

  Knock knock. “Room service.”

  Ciara looked at Solomon and sniffled. “Not again.”

  Solomon opened the door. He scribbled on the paper, handed it back to the same waiter, then moved the champagne to the nightstand. Solomon rolled the old tray toward the waiter and the new table in front of Ciara. Solomon’s look was warm. Sincere.

  “I know how much you love dessert.” He smiled.

  Solomon uncovered his plate. A large slice of Ciara’s favorite chocolate layered doberge cake. Solomon fed Ciara the first piece, then tasted a bite. The only place Ciara knew made doberge cake was Gambino’s in New Orleans. She’d mail order for holidays and special occasions. What other things had Solomon realized she liked?

  “Um, this cake tastes almost as good as you,” Solomon said, helping himself to a second bite.

  Then Solomon uncovered Ciara’s plate. Ciara frowned. “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  Ciara unwrapped the envelope and screamed. “Oh, my, gosh! Two open round-trip tickets to anywhere in the world! Oh my gosh! Solomon!”

  Ciara kissed Solomon. “Hopefully we can use those. But you don’t have to take me. You can take Monica.”

  Monica? What if Ciara wanted to take Darius? Or Donavon. Solomon couldn’t dictate, if she weren’t his woman, how she should use his gift.

  Knock knock. “Room service.”

  Solomon opened the door, rolled the old tray toward the waiter and the new table in front of Ciara.

  “Solomon, you have truly outdone yourself. What this time?” Ciara asked.

  Solomon uncovered his plate. Three huge chocolate-covered strawberries.

  “Didn’t we just have dessert?” Ciara said.

  “Ssshhh.” Solomon fed Ciara again. Ciara placed her hand against his forehead as she licked then bit the juicy red-ripe fruit.

  Solomon poured two glasses of champagne, then uncovered Ciara’s plate. A sparkling marquis-cut diamond solitaire set in platinum mounted the center of the brightest yellow butter cream rose. “Baby, I know I’ve acted a fool. Foolish. But I never meant to lose you. Ciara Denise Monroe, will you marry me?”

  Solomon treated her better in one hour than he had all the years they were together. The first year was fun. New. Solomon took her to plays, concerts, dancing, dinner. The second year, he’d changed. Always busy. Not enough time for many things outside of sex. As their relationship continued, they argued more. Even when they weren’t fussing, Ciara was constantly debating in her mind. Leave? Stay? Or keep him until she found someone better?

  CHAPTER 19

  Darius glanced around his conference table, pleased his organization was finally fully staffed. His nine o’clock meeting began with Angel outlining the morning agenda topics: delegation of responsibility, revised calendar for staff meetings, required attendees for Monroe and Jones meetings, attendees for industry meetings, attendees for celebrity-hosted or -sponsored parties, and office coverage. Observing the professionally dressed LA people hurrying to their destinations, Darius wondered why Ciara hadn’t noticed or didn’t care that his nightly visits to her house had become weekly.

  Angel placed a set of documents before each attendee. “The first agenda item for today’s meeting is to discuss delegation of responsibility. Now that Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top is fully staffed, Mr. Jones is relinquishing some of his responsibility. Let me reiterate: I said some of his responsibility. But none of his authority.”

  “Thank you, Angel.” Darius noticed that Kevin followed Angel’s tailored black pantsuit, layered underneath with a sheer white blouse, around the room until she sat.

  “Finance. Ashlee, I’m increasing your signature limit. Kevin, you’ll attend designated meetings in my absence and act in my capacity whenever I’m out of the office; however, you will not sign any legal documents on my behalf. HR will give the remainder of you a memorandum of understanding and revised job descriptions. Your cooperation will facilitate growth by freeing my time to solicit new business, make lucrative deals, and simply to assume the true role of President. If anyone has questions, follow the chain of command. Don’t speak to me unless you’ve discussed your concerns with your department head, HR, and my VP, Kevin. Any questions?” Darius glanced around the table. The room was quiet. “Good.”

  Angel stopped Darius by the exit door after the meeting was adjourned. “Mr. Jones, you have a call from Darryl.”

  “Darryl? Which one?”

  “Senior.”

  Concealing his excitement, Darius swiftly entered his office, closed the door, and answered. “
What’s up?” The last person Darius expected to hear from was Darryl.

  “Actually, I called to speak with Kevin. I can’t reach him on his phone.”

  Darius bit his bottom lip. “Man, this is my office. The least you could do is say ‘Hello, Son’ or something.”

  “You sure are one ignorant arrogant immature dude. But hey, you can’t help it. You got it honestly,” Darryl said.

  “Man, if that’s how you’re going to talk to me, don’t call my place of business.”

  “If it’s a place of business, why come no one’s answering the damn phones. This is serious. Otherwise, you know I wouldn’t call you. Is my son Kevin there? Or not?”

  “You talk with Kevin every day. And you can’t have a decent five-minute conversation with me.”

  “Even if I am your father, I don’t owe you anything. But I will say it was mighty big of you to offer Kevin a top-level position.”

  “If you can’t trust family, who can you trust? He is my brother, right?”

  Darryl yelled, “You questioning me, boy! Don’t think I didn’t catch that.”

  “If you want to talk to Kevin, you’re going to have to call him on his phone.”

  “I don’t have to do—”

  Darius hung up the phone, dialed Angel and said, “Decline all calls from Darryl Williams. Junior and senior,” then headed into Ashlee’s office. Kevin and Ashlee were laughing but stopped when they noticed him enter.

  Kevin immediately walked toward the door. “Ashlee, I’ll speak with you later. Mr. Jones, you won’t be disappointed. I’m going to bring in lots of new clients. The kind you like. Wealthy.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” Kevin had become extremely formal. Too polite. Darius wanted to say, “Relax, brother.” Not knowing how drastically Kevin would revert to his old way of speaking, Darius accepted and liked the new Kevin, who was more professional with everyone except Ashlee.

  Darius didn’t care how serious Darryl’s call was, he refused to give Kevin the message. Darius closed Ashlee’s door. “I just got off the phone with Darryl.”

  “Your dad or your brother?”

  Darius’s lip curved on one side.

  “Oh, okay. Your dad.”

  “I can’t believe he talks to me like I don’t fuckin’ exist. That shit burns me up. Then he has the audacity to call on my phone. My phone! And ask to speak with Kevin. Can you believe that shit?”

  “I’m sure he’s hurting too.”

  Darius’s eyebrows drew closer together. “Who’s hurting? I’m not hurting behind his deadbeat sorry ass. I’m pissed.”

  Ashlee calmly said, “I know. So what are you going to do?”

  “Fuck him! I told Angel to reject all of his calls. If he wants to call Kevin, he can call Kevin on his cell. Then I hung up in his face.” Darius kicked the wall and walked out.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Ashlee accompanied Darius to San Francisco to select furniture for his new office. Any reason to have Ashlee to himself and get her away from Kevin was good. Kevin quickly proved himself valuable to Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top, so Darius felt comfortable leaving Kevin in charge of the Los Angeles office for a day.

  “I’ve noticed you’re spending more nights away from home or coming in very early in the morning. Are you seeing someone?” Ashlee asked.

  “No, just hanging out with the fellas. Trying to sprinkle some fun between working so hard.”

  Late nights at Kimberly’s satisfied Darius’s sexual appetite. Since Ciara had recently booked Kimberly for more videos and commercials, Kimberly’s day schedule was full. Ciara had gone overboard when she recommended having Kimberly audition for a part in Soul Mates Dissipate. If Kimberly started earning six figures from acting, she might get crazy and cut him off from the pussy. Luckily Darius convinced Ciara that having Kimberly audition was a bad idea.

  “Oh, I see,” Ashlee said.

  “Why? You care?”

  “Of course, I care. About you. I want to know you’re safe. I worry when you don’t come home or call before midnight.”

  So Ashlee wanted him to act like a husband, but she didn’t want to get married. “I’ll try to call when I’m staying out late,” Darius lied to appease Ashlee.

  Recently, when Darius wasn’t at Kimberly’s, Darius had been spending a few more nights at Ciara’s house. Eventually Ciara would begin questioning why, after her first month of spending nights and mornings at his house, he was suddenly visiting her. Until Darius’s plan to completely take over Ciara’s company was implemented, Darius didn’t want Ciara to become familiar with his habits or the fact that Ashlee lived with him.

  Darius stood alone in front of the skyscraper in downtown San Francisco trying to locate his seventeenth-floor corner office when he felt a light touch to his shoulder.

  “Darius, is that you?” a woman asked.

  Darius froze. His eyes widened in amazement. She was still beautiful. Ladylike. Dressed well. He wanted to hug her but resisted, knowing her condition. Instead he said, “Hey, Maxine. It’s good to see you. You look good.”

  Maxine’s chocolate cheeks rose high when she smiled. “I feel good. Most of the times.” She nodded. “I’m married and have two kids.”

  Darius frowned. “Two kids. Really? That was fast.” Two years hadn’t passed since he’d ended their engagement.

  “Yes, twins. We adopted.”

  “Oh, I see. You know, I think about you all the time. Wish I could’ve changed my ways before ruining your life.”

  “My life isn’t ruined. People live with HIV and other diseases every day. Some are terminal, some not. But life isn’t over until you take your last breath. Remember that. I’m fine.” Maxine smiled. “Tell your parents I said hello. And take care of yourself.”

  Darius watched Maxine until her body disappeared into the Montgomery Street crowd. Although Darius had debated changing his promiscuous ways, he really hadn’t. But Maxine had taught him something more important than fidelity. She had taught him how to love. She was the first woman he’d loved. She was the only woman he felt vulnerable to. When Maxine slept with Rodney, Darius realized he wouldn’t have forgiven her even if she hadn’t contracted HIV. His woman had to be faithful regardless of his interactions. It wasn’t his fault men were born protectors, providers, and predators, while women were given the innate ability to nurture, serve, and submit. Maxine. Married? With two kids? The brother had to be infected too because what sensible man would marry a woman with a sexually contagious virus?

  “Darius, you okay?” Ashlee asked, returning with two caramel-flavored coffees.

  Sipping from the tall paper cup, Darius answered, “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go check out our new office space.”

  Darius was quiet on the elevator. Seeing Maxine brought back memories of when they were teenagers walking on the sand past their beachfront homes. Maxine was different from Ashlee. Maxine had that quiet confidence and somehow, even when Maxine didn’t speak much, people respected Maxine and valued her opinion. Not that Ashlee wasn’t respected, but Ashlee was a little too passive. Darius’s staff respected Ashlee because of her position in his company. If they made Ashlee upset, their company reimbursement checks might sit on her desk an extra week or two.

  “Darius,” Ashlee said, waving her hand in front of his face, “We’re here.”

  When Darius and Ashlee arrived inside the newly renovated office, Jada and Wellington were surveying the space.

  “Well, Son, this is it. Our new offices right here in the Financial District.”

  Darius smiled. “Dad, as always, you done good.”

  Jada said, “We done good.”

  Ashlee walked around the empty space. She faced Darius and held his hands. “We can fit about four desks and one private office in this space.”

  “Two private offices and two desks,” Darius replied, releasing Ashlee’s hands.

  Darius noticed his mother frowned, then cut her eyes toward Wellington, who was also frowning.

&nb
sp; “Son, let me speak with you in private for a moment.”

  “Ashlee, you come with me,” Jada said.

  Dammit, Ashlee. Of all the times she could’ve looked at Darius with love, lust, whateva the hell was in her eyes, why now?

  Wellington pulled him aside and said, “Son, now I know that look. But I know you’re not having sex with your sister? Let me take that back. With you I don’t know.”

  “No, Dad. I’m not.” At least not yet, Darius thought.

  “Then why did Ashlee have that look in her eyes? And you too.”

  “Not me.” Darius hunched his shoulders. “Her. You know how women are. I already answered your question. Besides my mind was someplace else,” Darius lied. “I saw Maxine a few minutes ago.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s nice. But I see you don’t want to talk about this. But there’s something you’re not telling me. And as usual, whatever it is will come out eventually.”

  “Since Ashlee’s started working for me, she’s like my best friend and confidante. She’s become protective of me. That’s all.”

  Wellington patted Darius on the back. “If you say so, Son. If you say so.”

  CHAPTER 21

  This time Ciara didn’t wait for Darius to get to his office. Dressed for work, Ciara sped out of her driveway, glad Monica’s lights were off, and for the first time in months Ciara drove to Darius’s home.

  Traffic at seven-thirty in the morning was ridiculously slow. Ciara crept along until I-5 became a parking lot. Ciara tuned her radio to the AM traffic station. “Folks if you can have an alternate route to work, avoid Interstate Five. There’s been a major collision involving two trucks. Reportedly there are two casualties. Three survivors are being rushed to the hospital.”

  Ciara glanced at her ringing cell phone. Megan. The clock on Ciara’s dash displayed 8:05. Thirty-five minutes and Ciara had barely moved one mile. Ciara answered, “Yes, Megan.”

  “Ms. Monroe. Good morning. I called to tell you there’s a terrible accident on I-Five. If you haven’t left already you may want to take an alternate route.”