“Candice, I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for this. I just got two bigger contracts. Talk to my mom and work something out.”
“Oh, you don’t have time. We’ll see about that after I talk to Monica.”
Darius would talk to anyone but Monica. “Candice, wait. Have a seat.”
“Um, hum. I knew that would get your attention. Maybe I should write a screenplay about you.”
“Leave my life out of your head. And to make myself clear, I’m not asking you. Now what is the problem between you and my mother? You two are driving me insane. Nothing would make my mother happier than to see this movie end up in a slush pile. And nothing will make you happier than to have my mother’s life story make you filthy rich as long as my mother doesn’t share in the profits. I don’t get it.”
“See, I told you the conflict of interest was a problem. She’s trying to sabotage my movie.”
Since Jada had helped Darius’s relationship with Darryl, maybe Darius could help his mom reunite with her best friend.
“Candice, meet me in Oakland. Tomorrow. My house at two o’clock.”
Women.
CHAPTER 37
What did the words “I love you” truly mean? Darius wondered if the times he’d spoken those words to his mother, was he sincere? Maxine? Ashlee? Ciara? Had he told Ciara he loved her? He couldn’t remember. His friends? What friends? Friend. K’Nine. Wellington? Darius’s list of potential friends could fit on a one-by-one-inch sticky. Females. Lovers. Naw, he definitely didn’t love them. But he shouldn’t refer to them as whores. In addition to all-stars, maybe he’d start calling the females he fucked jewels. And the polished ones, like Kimberly, gems. The next time Darius said “I love you” he’d mean it and tell the person why.
“Kimberly. Let me put Slugger in your ass missionary style in the hammock.” Darius stroked Kimberly from behind, pushing her down ’til her titties touched the mattress. “Hold on to my nuts, baby.” Darius glanced around the hotel suite. The suite with the hammock was their favorite. Included in the cost, a new hammock was hung each stay and available to take home afterward.
Kimberly reached between their thighs and grabbed both of Darius’s balls.
“Ah, yes. Squeeze ’em.” Darius deliberately slid his dick all the way in Kimberly’s pussy. He pulled out. Then he re-entered Kimberly as she re-gripped his nuts.
Kimberly moaned, “Mmmmm. Your dick is so big. I love it.” Kimberly always moaned during sex whenever any part of his body touched hers. Something about her moans kept his dick hard.
Kimberly confirmed what Darius had suspected. The women, most of his jewels and gems, when they said “I love you” what they really meant was they loved it. Slugger. His dick. Had to be true because the females didn’t know enough about him for their expressions to be directed toward him. Kimberly was different. She said what she meant. Nothing more. Darius learned that Kimberly didn’t tell her personal business.
“Massage your pussy, daddy.”
Darius dripped saliva onto his fingers. Up and down, sandwiched between his longest fingers, Darius massaged Kimberly’s shaft. Teased her clit. Stroked her shaft. Teased her clit.
“Oh, yes daddy you know how she likes it.” Kimberly arched her back, then rotated as deep as she could onto his dick. Tightening her pussy, Kimberly relaxed her back then arched again.
Darius rewet his fingers. This time he massaged her shaft faster and in circular motion.
“Mmmmmm, yes daddy. Fuck me harder. She’s cumming. Damn, you. Damn, you. Damn, you, Darius. I love it when you fuck me hard, daddy.”
Darius moved his knees and pelvis closer. He paused for a moment so Kimberly could work her spot. She was in the zone. The palm of his hand slapped Kimberly’s ass three times. The sting made Kimberly cum harder. In waves with his waves, Darius felt Kimberly cum on his dick.
“Incredible,” Darius said, withdrawing himself. “I’m glad you agree to see me whenever I want my pussy.”
“Only you, daddy.”
Of course Darius still paid the Visa in Kimberly’s name through his online banking, paperless statements. If Darius ever married, his wife would never know how much he spent on Kimberly. Kimberly was the only one with his credit card. The rest had strictly cash. The corner of Darius’s mouth curved. That’s right. He did have a wife. Wherever the fuck Ciara was, she was probably fucking some other guy. After Ciara disappeared, Darius’s visits with Kimberly had increased to three days a week: Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.
“What’s wrong, baby? All of sudden you seem out of it. Let’s do the missionary position you love.” Kimberly lay on her back, raised her legs above her hips and spread her thighs.
Darius stroked his dick and said, “Later. I’ve got to go home. Shower. Change. And get to work. I’ll be back around noon. Have her ready and waiting for me.”
“Anything for you, daddy,” Kimberly said, closing the bathroom door.
Wearing yesterday’s suit, Darius walked through his front door at seven.
“Good morning. You look nice,” Darius said, admiring Ashlee’s white lace crew top and navy knee-length skirt as she closed her bedroom door.
The next sounds Darius heard were the garage door opening then closing.
Darius undressed, showered, and re-dressed. Grabbed a V8 Splash from the fridge and left. En route to work Darius thought about Ashlee. How she didn’t speak to him this morning. Once Darius started traveling with the NBA, Ashlee was gonna wish she had spoken to him. Was Darius pushing Ashlee into Kevin’s arms? Ashlee could forget about moving in with Kevin. Darius was boss. He could overrule any of Ashlee’s or Kevin’s choices, professional and personal. Darius should spend more time in the office and less time enjoying his money and his women.
Darius unlocked his office door. The sensor lights flashed on. The papers in his in-box were shuffled. Not neat and even like he’d left them last night. Standing in front of his desk, Darius glanced around his office. Everything else was in order.
“Excuse, me. Good morning,” Angel chimed, standing in the doorway. Ankle-high boots. Black leather capri pants. And a black wool crew-cut sweater that loosely clung to her breasts. “Mr. Jones. You have a messenger in the lobby. He said you have to sign for the package.”
“Fine, escort him up.”
While waiting, Darius scooped his papers, tapping them on his glass-top desk until they were even. Darius thumbed through the pile. All of the papers were there.
“Excuse me, sir,” the man dressed in navy shorts and a navy polo-style shirt said. He punched a few buttons. “Sign here.”
Darius scribbled on the electronic pad. “Thanks.” Darius rattled the small cardboard box. “Well, it didn’t explode. Actually it feels empty.”
Darius shook the box again. The return address was a post office box. In Iowa? He frowned then sat the box aside. His meeting with Candice and his mother was in a few minutes. Terrell had insisted since everyone lived in the LA area, Candice wasn’t flying to Oakland. That was cool but Darius insisted that Terrell not attend the meeting.
Angel stood in the doorway. “Mr. Jones. They’re here. I think you should join them now.” Angel nodded. Her eyes widened. “What was in the box? A watch?”
“I haven’t opened it,” Darius said, exiting behind Angel.
When he entered the conference room, his eyelids stretched toward his hairline. His mother was at one end, and Candice at the other. Darius shook his head and sat next to Candice.
“Mom, would you please come sit down here with us?” Darius paused. “Please, Mom.”
Jada slowly gathered her purse and palm pilot. “Okay, if you say so. Make this quick because I have to get back to my office.”
“I don’t believe this. You two are acting my age. Y’all were friends before I was born. Nothing can replace friendships.” Darius wished he had a male friend he could trust. K’Nine was cool but Darius hadn’t called him since the night he’d used K’Nine’s house to entertain Desire and her
friends. Maybe after Darius started ballin’ again, he’d become closer to K’Nine.
“Jada, I’ll get to the point. You don’t want my screenplay to be successful so Black Diamonds cannot represent me.”
“I once felt that way too. But after talking to Wellington, it makes perfect sense for Black Diamonds to handle the publicity. We’re best qualified and I’ve set aside my personal feelings.”
“Oh, is that so,” Candice said, staring blankly at Jada. “Well, I don’t believe you.”
Jada returned the same stare. “Well, I don’t trust—”
“Ladies. Please. Stop it! We should all be celebrating. Not hating.”
Candice rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Jada grabbed her purse.
“Honey, I’ll call you later.” Jada looked down on Candice and said, “Good day. Trader thief.”
Darius shook his head as Candice left him sitting at the table alone. Women.
Returning to his office, Darius picked up the box, shook it again then noticed two more identical boxes sitting on his round table. Darius dialed Angel’s intercom.
“What are these other boxes?”
“I don’t know. They were delivered without signature requests while you were in the meeting.”
Darius hung up, palmed his scissors, and slid the edge underneath the tape. What the shit? When the box tumbled to the floor, ashes that reeked of sweet perfume covered the plastic mat beneath his chair. A black envelope dropped near his shoe. Darius hesitated. Cautiously he slid his letter opener across the top. Pinching the corners of the card, Darius sneezed, then read the silver metallic handwritten words, “Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.”
Repeating the words, Darius stared at the other boxes. What? Why? Some idiot, playing games. He was more careful opening the other boxes and letters. The second note read, Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. The third, Ashes to Ashlee. Dust to dust.
What the fuck?! What kind of sick-ass shit was this? “Ashes to Ashlee?” Was that a death threat to him? To Ashlee?
Darius calmly strolled into Ashlee’s office. “I need you to do a sixty-day detail in San Francisco.”
“What?”
“I just need you to do this, for me. It’s only two months.”
Ashlee frowned. “When?”
“Starting Monday.”
“No way. That’s too soon.”
“Okay, how soon can you leave?”
“The end of the month.”
Darius shook his head. “That’s two weeks away.”
“I know. Why the rush?”
Darius bit his bottom lip. “Just need to get the office structured before the year end. That’s all.”
CHAPTER 38
Small brown boxes continued being delivered. Two. Three. Sometimes five a week. The contents the same. Darius stacked the boxes in his storage cabinet as evidence to aid the police in capturing the deranged idiot. Darius prayed Ashes to Ashlee was a typo because all the other letters read Ashes to Ashes.
Angel stood in the doorway. “Mr. Jones, there’s a sheriff in the lobby to see you. After you’re done talking with him, we need to go over your weekend itinerary.”
“Did you say a sheriff?”
Angel nodded.
“Oh, good. Maybe they’ve found that fool.” Darius walked beside Angel until he reached the man dressed in uniform on the first floor.
“You Darius Jones?” he questioned.
“Yes, I’m Darius Jones. I hope you have some good news.”
“Sir, you’re being served with a restraining order. You must stay at least one hundred feet away—”
“Wait, wait, wait, hold up a minute,” Darius objected, raising his hands. “A what? For what?”
“A restraining order, sir. From a Mrs. Ciara Monroe.”
Darius laughed. “You got jokes. I haven’t seen that bit ... her in months.”
“Then staying away shouldn’t be a problem, should it, sir?” The officer handed Darius the papers and promptly left.
What was Ciara up to? Playing childish games. Ciara probably wasn’t pregnant. A restraining order? The only time he touched Ciara was during sex: doggie style, missionary style, free style, or forcing her head down so she could deep throat his dick like his other freaks. Oh, he’d meant jewels and gems.
Thinking of freaks, Monica had been quiet lately. Busy trying to legally restore Ciara’s controlling interest. Darius considered transferring his fifty-one percent interest in Monroe, Jones and Company to Kevin but he couldn’t trust the way Kevin crawled on his belly to please Tony.
Darius crumbled the restraining order, flipped his wrists, and scored two points in his trash basket. Ciara wasn’t serious. And Monica was abusing the power of attorney that Ciara had signed. Darius should have an expert compare Ciara’s signatures on the restraining order and his marriage certificate. Darius looked at the restraining order in his trash can.
Angel pecked on the closed glass door.
“Come in,” Darius said, powering up his palm pilot.
Angel crossed her bare legs then leaned forward. “Your flight to New York is at one on Jet Blue, gate 5C. Before you leave, Kevin needs you to sign these documents. The contractors have completed installation of security cameras in every office and on each floor. To view what everyone is doing, including me.” Angel walked behind Darius and held his mouse. “Click on this icon. You need to establish your password and it’s advised one additional person have the password.” Angel waited until Darius selected a password. “Now if you click on an employee’s photo, name, or you can view by office number, you can monitor each room, conference areas, and such. Except the restrooms. You can’t see inside those.” Angel smiled. “If you want the remote feature, they can also program your palm pilot so you can monitor the office at any time.”
Darius clicked on Kevin’s picture. Was he growing locks? Kevin dug into his nose. Darius’s eyes stretched when Kevin put his finger in his mouth then dug in his nose again.
“Okay, I’ve seen enough. For now. No one will have access to the system until I’m comfortable with how the cameras work. And yes, I definitely want the remote monitoring feature.”
“Oh, yeah. One more thing. The cameras record up to seventy-two hours. That way while the office is closed for weekends and holidays, if anything happens, you can view the DVD later. And all DVDs are backed up by the service provider. Just in case you lose or damage any of them.”
Angel’s body and fragrance caused blood to start to flow into Darius’s dick. Darius mentally controlled Slugger then said, “Thanks, Angel. Tell Ashlee I’d like to see her in my office.”
Ashlee walked in, no makeup. Slightly red eyes. No manicure. She sat in the chair in front of Darius’s desk.
“Ashlee, you ready?” Darius asked, looking at her picture on his desk then at her face. Since Ashlee started working late she’d become overly friendly with Kevin. Too friendly. And she appeared tired all the time, like Ciara before she disappeared.
Their business and pleasure trip to New York should pep Ashlee up. Darius couldn’t risk having anything happen to Ashlee because of that anonymous idiot or Kevin.
“Yeah, give me a few minutes.”
Kevin strolled in. “You two off on another trip? I’ll see you when you get back, Ashlee. Don’t forget to get my care package from my boy Lamont while you’re in Harlem.”
“We’re going to Manhattan,” Darius replied.
Kevin shook his head and smiled. “It’s all the same, mein.”
Darius continued, “On business. Ashlee, get your things and let’s go. The driver is downstairs.”
Darius escorted Ashlee to the car, left the bags on the sidewalk, and sat next to Ashlee. Ashlee refused to allow Darius to touch her en route to the airport.
Breaking the silence, Darius said, “I’m buying a second home in Oakland and need you to travel with me next weekend, so keep your schedule open.”
“No, Darius. I can’t. I won’t. It’ll just have to wait until my deta
il starts.”
“Maybe, we’ll see.” Darius exhaled. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, Ashlee. The reason I want you to go to San Francisco on detail is because I need to distance you from Kevin. He’s my brother and well . . .”
“Well, I’m your sister.”
“No, you’re not. Not to me. Besides, mixing business with pleasure creates unnecessary problems.” Darius reached inside his pocket. He retrieved a small black box and opened it. “Ashlee, I want you to marry me. You don’t have to answer. Just wear my ring and think about it.”
Ashlee shook her head. “You really are disillusioned. I cannot marry you. I will not marry you. The answer is no and keep your ring.”
Rule number four: never accept no. “When you change your mind, let me know. The ring is yours,” Darius said, folding the solitaire in Ashlee’s hand.
Darius stopped at the ticket counter. “Can’t be.”
“What?” Ashlee said, trailing Darius’s eyes.
Darius stared at the woman getting on a nearby elevator. Darius could spot those huge breasts anywhere. Darius yelled, “Ciara! Wait!”
Leaving his luggage, ID, and wallet at the counter with Ashlee, Darius raced toward the elevator. Ciara frantically pressed the button and vanished beyond the doors. Darius ran toward the escalator, rode halfway down, then jumped over several moving steps. Ciara briskly crossed the car and shuttle lanes. Darius ran faster shouting, “Ciara! Wait! Ciara!”
Ciara started running. She stopped by a San Francisco police officer, pulled out a piece of paper, and pointed at Darius. Darius stopped as he watched Ciara disappear into the garage.
“That bitch!” Darius would catch her conniving butt eventually. Ciara couldn’t hide forever. And what was she hiding from? Certainly not him.
Returning to check-in, Darius retrieved his wallet from Ashlee.
“What was that all about? Why were you chasing her like she stole something? Why did Ciara run away?”
“I’ll explain it to you later,” Darius lied. “You got my boarding pass?”
Ashlee nodded.
“Good. Let’s go.”
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