by Maya James
I feel my hips rocking against him.
Just a moment more.
Nearly there.
Don't—
Stop.
Yes...Christ!
I'm really grabbing his sides now, fingers digging in to hold this moment to its fullest.
Everything leaves me in a satisfying rush and Justin pulls me closer, as if he's taking all of my problems from me, all of my tension. My moans and pants are muffled into his strong neck. All of it floods out of me and is immediately washed away.
It takes a few minutes to regain myself. I can feel that my smile is back on my face like a loyal friend. Justin's impressive hardness is pressing into me now as well and I make a move toward it.
"No," he says in the same voice that had told me to undress earlier. "I told you, you're not doing a thing tonight."
Justin shuts off the water and pulls back the curtain. Before he helps himself, he opens a towel over my shoulders to keep me warm. He takes a second and towels off my hair and then wraps it up. With the one on my shoulders, he dries my body and then his.
Casually, he steps out and holds his hand out for me like a gentleman. After he assists me over the tub wall, his massive hands scoop me off the tiles.
"What are you doing?" I ask through a smile.
"You're not even allowed to walk," he replies through his own soft grin.
Justin carries me to the bed, sits me on the edge, and removes the towel to dry my hair further. When he's satisfied with that, he pulls the covers back and asks me to lie down. I feel his warm body slide in next to me, and he wraps himself around me again, pulling the covers over us.
"There's no war to wage, no battles to fight tonight, Warrior." He kisses my head again. "Go to sleep."
CHAPTER IX
I am so happy to see how the girls, especially Lynda and Jennifer, are taking to Trisha. We're having lunch in the Grill just to throw it in the owners face a little bit.
As we had suspected, Trish's position was not waiting for her when she was able to return. Against his manager and all the other staff's wishes, the Grill's owner had temporarily filled the position with his niece and now he was letting her keep it.
She's a bumbling idiot.
Justin wanted to fix it for Trisha, make the owner beg for her to come back, but I convinced him that she didn't want it anyway—I had a better idea for her.
I personally trained her to be John's new assistant at Panther. Lately, I haven't been doing it justice; I was better off being Justin's assistant since he is constantly needing me on the other end of the business.
John, with his round and happy face, reluctantly agreed with the condition that I make her a clone of myself, which I did. Before I brought her anywhere near the office, I made sure she knew exactly how I did everything for John and she could reproduce it.
"So you totally have to let us know when you're ready to date again," Jennifer blabs. Obviously they know all about what happened to her, Trisha didn't see any benefit in hiding it.
"You have someone in mind?" Trisha laughs.
Jennifer shakes her head. "No one in particular, but that's makes it even more fun. We can try them on, look for one that fits—like fucking hats!" she laughs.
Trisha high-fives her. "Hell yeah," she says. "Even my girl here can't do that with me."
"Right?" Lynda agrees.
We're all smiling and laughing, but I catch Trisha's eyes to make sure she's okay with this. Her wink tells me she's perfectly fine.
The niece of the owner returns to our table with a new drink for Clarice. The first one was completely wrong, her fault, not the bartender's. She's put it in as a gin and tonic instead of vodka and laughed about it instead of apologizing.
Fucking twit!
I can't wait to see what she does to our food.
Lena has joined us today, one of the very rare times she includes herself. When we sat, she intentionally pinned Trisha between us like we're a pair of bookends. There's a comfortable bond starting there that makes me feel safe. She will look out for Trisha, even when I'm not there.
I hadn’t even asked her to do that, but this is just another reason to love Lena.
Even with Trisha recovering wonderfully and Lena's heartfelt help, my nerves are shot. The last of the secrets I've been keeping from everyone is coming to a final head. It's time to do it or forget it.
Now is the most dangerous part of it all and I don't know if I can do it without Lena. Frankly, I'm terrified. More than that, I might need her to lie for me to the one person that can usually see right through her—Justin.
They all have their eyes on a cute guy sitting at the bar, deciding on who in the group he would good for. They don't seem to notice the way he checks his phone for the time, the text messages he's sending, or even the empty chair he is clearly guarding beside him.
Lena sees it. "Who do you think is going to be more disappointed?" she asks me in front of their confused faces.
I laugh. "All of them, probably."
"Disappointed by what?" Jenifer chokes.
"His girlfriend," Lena says in her simple voice. They all suddenly see it.
"Dammit!" Lynda barks. "You two fuck up a good wet dream."
Just then the girl walked in and Lena and I took a turn high-fiving across the bridge of Trisha's nose.
Our excuse of a waitress appears from the back with a tray of food. Her foot catches on something in its way, her other foot, and the tray goes flying.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Trisha laughs.
Lena looks concerned. "Christ! I hope that wasn't ours."
We all wait with baited breath, whatever the fuck that means. Basically we stare the bitch down to see what she does, ready to eat her flesh if we have to wait longer. Oh the friggin' relief when she trots up to some other table and apologizes.
"Yep!" I say. "She was such a great choice."
We go back to waiting for our order, praying she can remember what side her feet are on. My nerves begin to hum again; I need to get Lena alone before I throw up.
Enough lying. Enough of this shit behind Justin's back.
I grab my phone as Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines" begins to waft into the brick-walled room over their speakers. I type in "Silk?" and send the text to Lena.
A minute later her phone buzzes. She will know exactly what that means. There's only one reason we go to Silk together, to drop off Justin's radar. After she reads it, she manages to offer me a stealthy wink that we are on.
"THIS IS A BURNER," Lena tells me. "Use it for things you don't want traced back to you. If you do something big with it, something important, you pop the case off and get rid of the guts and case separately. You can use it for a little while if you haven't done anything with it that you are concerned about."
I understand perfectly. When I reached out to take it from her my hands are shaking.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lena asks desperately.
"No! I'm honestly not."
She refuses to give me the phone for a moment. "Then why are you doing it if you're not ready?"
I give her a powerful "are you fucking kidding me" look, and she drops the phone into my hand. There's no way I cannot do this, and Lena damn well knows that.
The entire room smells like eucalyptus and lavender. Normally I would love it, but right now it’s just making me dizzy.
Lena adjusts the towel wrapped around her beautiful, black breasts and body, and she studies me. "If you're going to do it, get on with it. They won't leave us alone for long in here."
She's right—I'm wasting time. In a moment the hostess of Silk will come to take us for our facials.
Now the phone suddenly weighs twenty pounds and appears to have a magical ability to make my heart pound in my chest. I don't think I've ever been so afraid to make a phone call. With incredibly heavy fingers, I tap out the number.
My eyes meet Lena's for a moment, hoping to find some reassurance. I only find fear and nervousness. I press sen
d.
Shit!
The first ring was audible even before bringing the phone to my ear.
Second ring. "Hello?" she answers, her voice way more pleasant and sweet than I had anticipated.
Shit again!
"Hello, Mrs. Sumpter?" I ask?
In that same pleasant voice, she answers, "Yes?"
Oh fuck! Now what?
How am I not more prepared for this?
"I was hoping you might have a few moments to talk?" I finally discovered something to say. "Is this a good time?"
"Who is this?" she asks. Now I can hear something a little different in her voice—irritation.
Yeah, that's probably a good place to start. "I'm sorry," I say. "My name is Charity Powers, I'm a friend of Justin's."
There's a soft noise from her end of the phone, something just above a deep breath. A whimper.
I listen for it again, but there's only silence.
"Mrs. Sumpter?"
"I can't!" she squeals in a high voice full of tears. "Please don't call me again."
Oh my God! The sadness in her voice is heartbreaking. There's a lifetime of anguish swirling in her tone and I feel myself plummet emotionally for her.
The click of her hanging up is as abrupt as her whole reaction and was unexpected. This was not one of the options I had prepared for, not even close. No scenario that I had played out in my head ended with her not speaking with me, not answering my burning questions.
My mouth is a wide, un-closable gape as I drop my hand and the phone down to my side and stare at Lena. There's no words. None. Nothing comes to me at all.
"What the fuck happened?" Lena asks loudly.
"I—I don't have a clue," I reply. "She started crying, told me to not call her, and hung up."
Lena looks as shocked as I feel. "What the hell does that mean?"
I shrug my shoulders, careful that my towel doesn't fall off my chest.
"Call her back," Lena demands.
"No." I shake my head, thinking. "No, she won't talk, not that way."
Lena is equally confused and angry. "So you're just going to drop it then and be done with this?"
"Hell no! I didn't go as far as I did, risk as much as I did, to get nothing—not a single damn answer about what happened. I'm more concerned and curious than ever, but calling her is a waste of time."
"Then what?" Lena begs.
My shoulders shrug one more time. "Something more drastic."
"IT'S THE SPA MINERALE at the Lansdowne Resort," Lena tells him. "It's not Vegas, for Christ's sake, it's Virginia."
Justin is suddenly defensive. "I didn't say a damn thing!"
"You didn't have to. I saw your face as soon as I told you," she says. "You looked like a wounded child. I only want her for the weekend, her and Tricia, for a little girl time."
He laughs at her. "I love it when you're tough with me." His smirk is hysterical. "Let me show you how easy this is." Justin turns toward me. "Do you want to go with them for the weekend?"
I square up my shoulders. "Yes. I think it will be good for Tricia and—"
He cuts me off, with a wave of his hand. "Consider it done. I only care about what you want. I will miss you, of course and I don't like it, but it would break my heart not to have you do something you wanted to."
Lena looks pissy. But that's fake, I know.
"See how easy that was," Justin says. "What do you girls need for this? Can I get the rooms for you, book the spa?"
This is exactly how we wanted this to go, but that doesn't help my nerves. I'm an absolute wreck because this is coming too close to screwing up the best thing that has ever happened to me.
"You would do that for us?" Lena asks.
"No, not for you, not after your attitude," Justin says in his JP tone. "But for Charity and Trisha, of course."
Before he can sense my nerves, I grab him by the face with both hands and crush his face into mine for a big thank you kiss. His strong lips settle me and I feel the tension drop down my entire body and drain out through my feet.
He's exactly what I always need.
"I've already arranged everything anyway," Lena says. "We'll drive down Saturday morning."
"Bullshit!" Justin growls. "Shain will fly you down in the Hawker and pick you up Sunday night. No reason to waste most of your time in a car."
"Actually, that would be great!" Lena cheers.
Justin begins calling him without any hesitation. He has no clue that he's helping us betray him.
My guilt rises quickly.
It makes much more sense to fly, but I almost wish he didn't offer it. Now there's more reason to hate myself.
His whole office feels angry at me; Sylvester stares at me like he wants to eat me for deceiving his master, the Ansel Adam’s on the walls look suddenly darker than they've ever looked, casting frowns of disapproval at me and the red accents around the office are furious.
While he makes the flight arrangements with Shain, I fire off a text to Trisha, just to let her know not only are we on, but that we're flying down. She responds immediately. Her phone was obviously in her hands at the moment. "No fucking way???"
"Yes, really," I respond. I'm glad someone is excited about this.
I feel like such a bitch!
OUR FLIGHT WAS SIMPLE and just like when I flew to DC with Justin, there wasn't enough time to finish a glass of wine. Of course we still did, but there was some chugging involved at the end. Anne, the stewardess, seemed much more relaxed without Justin aboard. Lena still makes her nervous though, I saw it when she stifled the smile that slipped onto her face while Trisha chanted "Chug, chug, chug."
A car met us and brought us to the resort where our room was waiting. The place is as gorgeous as its’ website promised and Trisha was in heaven.
We've had salt rubs and foot scrubs already, and there's more to come—at least for Trisha and Lena.
I'm due to bail out on them soon. We started heading back from lunch when Lena uses her huge eyes to remind me that I have to go. I have about a twenty minute drive there and then back, plus I don't want to rush it if I get in the door. If I don't, we designed another window for a second attempt into tomorrow's itinerary.
I hold my stomach as we leave the elevator, but I don't draw any attention to it. It's not long before Trisha sees it. "Are you okay, girl?"
I throw in a convincing wince of discomfort. "I'm fine. Something's just not agreeing with me from lunch."
Groundwork laid.
It's actually not far from the truth, my stomach is tied up in knots and has been for weeks. This shit just needs to be over, one way or another. I don't like lying to Justin and really don't like fucking around with his life.
Once we're in the room, I put my phone on silent mode and passed it to Lena. If Justin is tracking it, he'll think I'm with them the entire time. I have my burner phone if I need help. I want this to happen today; I'm going to need the down time tomorrow. It's becoming sickening, and my patience for it is long gone.
"Ladies, I'm feeling worse," I tell them. "If it doesn't go away, I want you guys to go without me."
"Absolutely not!" Trisha barks. "We'll wait for you."
Adamantly, I tell her, "No—I don't want anyone waiting. I'm not having you guys miss anything because of me."
"We'll go," Lena says compassionately, giving Trisha a look that tells her I'm embarrassed and let me off the hook. Trisha is quickly on her side and believes they are helping me by going.
"Okay, Sweetie," Trisha says in a voice full of empathy. "Maybe you can join us if you feel better?"
"I'll call you in between treatments," Lena offers, taking control of the situation.
I concede and head to the bathroom to wait for them to leave. Lena makes sure they say goodbye so I can count the minutes before heading out, and by the time they are being wrapped up in some goop, I'm in a rental car trying not to vomit the closer I get to my destination.
Blake Shelton is singing "Boys 'Round Here"
through the car. I haven't bothered trying to find another station and I'm just fine with Blake calming me down and making me smile. Nothing else is keeping my mind off things.
Blake came and went and someone else is belting over the speakers now. I don't know who or what it is, don't even care. I'm parked in front of her house, just staring at it.
I haven't even shut off the engine yet.
Apparently I'm still debating, even now, about doing this. The fucking house is watching me, wondering what I'm going to do, and I still don't know.
Get it done! Now!
Shit!
I yank the door open so hard the little fucker comes back at me and I have to stop it with my foot. Dammit!
I slide out and slam the door behind me, my feet pounding the sidewalk. No more hesitations. I clear the walk and press the doorbell.
Is she not even here?
There's an approaching shadow in the window. She's here.
There's a click in the door and it opens. Standing in front of me is a beautiful woman of about forty-five. She has on jeans and a blue top that shows just enough of her curves. Her facial features are so familiar it's like a punch in the stomach.
"Nicolette Sumpter?" I ask.
"Yes," she answers. I recognize her voice from the phone; thankfully she hasn't recognized mine yet.
"I know this is hard for you, but we have to talk," I say to her. "I'm Charity Powers—I'm a friend of your son—Justin.
Her face turns white as her knees buckle. I watch her grab her front door for balance. It only lasts for a few seconds before she regains herself, pulling herself straight by the edge of the door. "I had a feeling you might try again," she says. "But this, coming all the way here, takes big ones. You must love him."
"More than life," I reply.
She smiles, and it's Justin in her face. "Good! I'm so happy he found that in his life." Justin's mother stares at me for a moment. "Even if I shut the door, you're not going away are you?"
I shake my head.
"Then you should come in," she says as she steps out of the way of the door.
Her house is very nice inside; the small foyer and the walls in the hallway are a soft yellow, and the living room and kitchen are a sage green that creates a warm and inviting atmosphere—that I know I'm going to shit all over in a few minutes.
