Forever, Mr. Black

by Shanora Williams

  He would surprise me with Tempt's latest notebooks and pens for the employees during several of our dinners and I thanked him sarcastically. I still pretended I didn't like him, which was my own version of flirting, and somehow it worked. Pretending not to like him, but really admiring every little thing about him.

  I couldn't ignore the way my heart raced when he sat beside me at dinner and his arm or knee would accidentally brush against me. I couldn't ignore how, whenever I heard the wheels of his car pull up, I'd rush to the window and watch him get out. I would purposely wear skirts and dresses whenever he was around, but he would never look. I kind of wished I was older, so I could tell him just how I felt. I liked him a lot. Even though he teased and taunted me, I still wanted him.

  I enjoyed his company, and so did my parents. They trusted him. They loved him. He was like family to us. But when I turned eighteen is when things changed, and I didn't want to consider Cane family anymore.

  I was getting ready for dinner when I heard a car door shut. I smiled as I stood in front of my bathroom mirror and fluffed my straightened raven hair. I knew it was him and I was ready. I heard another door shut, though, and my smile immediately collapsed.

  With a slight frown, I rushed to my window, spotting Cane walking up the sidewalk, and my heart nearly failed me when I saw the woman at his side, her elbow linked through his.

  Straight, slick brown hair.

  Rosy red lips.

  Tall and thin, but not too thin that she didn’t have physique.

  She was stunning from what I could see.

  I stepped away when I heard the doorbell ring, my heart racing now. I was too nosey to stick around in my room.

  Curious, I finished getting ready and then walked down the stairs as casually as possible, my frilly pink dress flowing around me.

  Mom and Dad were introducing themselves, and then I heard laughing and the woman's shrill voice say, "Wow, I love your dress!"

  I finally stepped around the corner as all of the adults spoke.

  Cane looked at me first.

  And then Mom.

  And then her.

  She was even prettier up close. Porcelain skin, blue eyes, great breasts. I instantly envied her.

  "You must be Kandy," she said, stepping toward me. She even had manners. Wow.

  "I am," I said, tipping my chin. She pulled me into a hug and my eyes stretched wide. I found Cane's gray-green eyes, and a smile twitched at his lips.

  I avoided a frown.

  "So nice to finally meet you! Quinton has told me all about you! I'm Kelly." Quinton. She used his first time? Intimate…

  She pulled away and I smiled at her. It was forced and slightly painful. "It's nice to meet you too, Kelly."

  "So—dinner is ready! How about we pop open that bottle of wine you have there, Cane, and let's eat!" Dad declared.

  "Oh, that sounds amazing," Kelly sighed.

  "I've been saving my appetite for tonight's dinner. Cane has told me all about how wonderful your cooking is, Mindy." Great. She knew how to kiss Mom's ass too.

  Mom wasn't an easy woman to please, but she loved compliments about her cooking and her clothes the most. After all, she worked hard trying to perfect her look and her delicious dinners. She'd scroll through Pinterest like a madwoman, asking me constantly if something looked good enough to wear or eat.

  Kelly walked with Mom to the kitchen, Dad following after them to most likely help. Cane was unbuttoning his suit jacket, about to put it on the coat rack.

  He glanced over his shoulder at me. "So, what do you think of Kelly?" he asked.

  "She's pretty," I admitted.

  He smirked. "I know." He hung the jacket on the coat rack. "Jealous?"

  I narrowed my eyes at him, my heart slowly thudding now. Asshole.

  He was only kidding, but he had no idea just how jealous I really was.

  Kelly was charming and witty. She was simple and practical. She knew when to laugh and when to seem concerned, shocked, and so on. She was everything I was not, and I wanted to hate her, I really did, but I couldn't.

  She didn't deserve my hate.

  She didn't know about the blazing crush I had on my dad's best friend.

  She only knew me as Kandy Jennings, Derek and Mindy Jennings' seventeen-year-old daughter.

  So instead of directing my hate to her, I passed it over to Mr. Quinton Cane himself.

  Yes, it was childish of me to no longer accept the chocolates he brought to our dinners, and to not say more than two words to him whenever he happened to drop by. It was beyond childish of me to hurry and finish my food and excuse myself from the table, just so I wouldn't see him and Kelly holding hands, or kissing, or sharing an inside joke. It was dumb of me to think he even cared how I felt when he didn't even have the slightest clue.

  Well, I thought he didn't care, until one day I was leaving school and his car was parked in front of the building. It was June in Miami and the sun was beaming down, no clouds in sight. Cane was leaning against the passenger door of his Chrysler 300 wearing gray slacks and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses on. I couldn't tell behind the dark tint of his sunglasses, but I was pretty sure his eyes were fixed on me.

  "Wow, who is that sexy man candy," Frankie mused as we walked out of the building. "Is he looking at you?"

  I stopped walking, staring at him. "Yeah. He's my Dad's friend, the one I was telling you about," I mumbled. I had no idea why he was here right now.

  "Oh—the hot guy you always complain about!" she said, almost loud enough for him to hear. I wanted to strangle her. My face flooded with heat and embarrassment swept through me.

  I stopped and held Frankie's wrists, looking her deep in the eyes. "Play it cool. Is he still looking at me?"

  "Uh, yeah," she laughed. "He took his sunglasses off. Looks like he's ogling you to death."

  I looked back with narrowed brows and Cane had indeed taken his sunglasses off. His head was tilted now and he flicked his fingers twice, a silent demand for me to come to him.

  "I'll call you later," I told her.

  "Please do! I want to know everything!"

  She twirled around, meeting up with her boyfriend, Troy, by the flagpole.

  Unease swept through me, a bundle of nerves building in my chest. I walked to him and my heart was slamming down on my ribcage now. My mind was screaming a million different things.

  Things like: Oh, he's so fucking hot. Why does he have to be so damn hot? I hate him and his stupid, cocky, sexy face.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked, finally meeting up to him. I looked around, meekly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Everyone was staring at me. I felt exposed, like everyone knew how I felt about this older, hotter man.

  "Your dad called and told me your mother had a last minute meeting and wouldn't be able to pick you up today," he said. "He's on duty, per usual, and since I don't have any meetings today, I told him I would get you."

  "Why?" I asked, apprehensive.

  He pushed off the car, grabbing the door handle and pulling the door open. "Because I wanted to."

  I ran my tongue over my dry bottom lip, peering around. People were still watching. This was awkward. I knew getting into his car was the only thing that would spare me from the gaping and gawking, so I slid my backpack off, handed it to him when he extended a hand for it, and climbed inside. He shut the door behind me right away.

  The scent of leather and sandalwood surrounded me, a small trace of tobacco too. The car was clean, practically empty. Nothing in the cup holders but a silver lighter.

  Cane slid behind the wheel after putting my backpack in the trunk and started the engine. It pulled off, smooth and easy, and he drove with his left hand, checking his wrist for the time.

  "You have a clock in your dashboard, you know," I said.

  He glanced sideways. "Shut it, Bits."

  I rolled my eyes, but my heart doubled in speed. It was startin
g again. The bantering. Teasing. The inside jokes. My little version of flirting.

  "Where are we going?"

  "Since I have you, I thought I'd take you to a late lunch before taking you home. I have reservations somewhere. You'll like it."

  I sighed, twisting in my seat. His brows dipped when he glanced my way again. "Put your fucking seatbelt on, Kandy."

  When he cursed at me, I felt bad and good all the same. Like I said, he only cursed when we were alone and it gave me a thrill. Like it was a secret thing only we knew about.

  He was still frustrating, though. I clicked my seatbelt into place and then threw my hands in the air. "There. Happy now?"

  He smirked, but said nothing.

  We were quiet for a few seconds, a song by Elton John lowly seeping out of the speakers.

  "I know why you're upset with me," he finally said. "Why you've been treating me like shit."

  I looked at him. "I'm not upset with anybody. I don't even care about you." That was a lie. A huge lie.

  "It's because of Kelly," he said, merely ignoring my comment.

  My pulse skittered. He stopped at a red light and looked at me. "When I asked if you were jealous about Kelly, I didn't think you really would be, Kandy."

  My heart dropped to my stomach. Shit, he knew. "I'm not jealous," I lied, palms clammy now. I snatched my gaze away, feeling the fire building in my throat now. I had the urge to open the car door and roll out--do anything that would spare me right now.

  "You are. You like me. It's obvious by the way you treat me. Cute, honestly. A little crush that I'm sure will pass soon."

  I sucked my teeth. "Is that why you picked me up? So you could rub it in my face while my parents aren't around?"

  A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "No. I'm just being a good friend and feeding you before dropping you off. That's all, Kandy Cane."

  "Don't call me that," I mumbled.

  "Already did." The light flashed green and he drove, taking the freeway. "You are so bitter, you know that? I have no idea why your parents named you Kandy. They should have named you Sourpuss instead."

  "Whatever, asshole."

  "You feel good when your curse at me, don't you? Your dad would have a fit if he knew about your potty mouth," he chuckled, and it made my spine tingle, and not in a bad way. "What other names have you called me behind my back?"

  "Jackass. Dipshit. Fucker. Asshat. Jerk-face—just to name a few."

  "Amusing." By his tone, I figured he'd found it far from amusing. "You really know how to break a man's heart, Kandy Cane."

  We were quiet again, only for a few seconds this time.

  "I'm not mad about Kelly," I finally said. "It just caught me by surprise when she showed up. That's all," I admitted.

  "Why did it catch you by surprise? Am I not allowed to date anyone?"

  I avoided looking at him. Would it have been selfish to say he couldn't date while I had a raging crush on him? Probably so. "I can't tell you what to do."

  "You can," he said, simply. Blatantly. "But it doesn't mean I'll listen."

  "Exactly, so why should I even bother?"

  He laughed. "Because you're Kandy Jennings. A feisty little thing who doesn't know how to hold her tongue."

  I laughed at that, only a little. "Yeah, whatever." I ran the tip of my thumb nail over a cuticle. "She's not even your type."

  "Oh yeah? And what is my type, exactly?"

  I thought on it, chewing on my bottom lip. "I don't know, but it's not her. You seem too...harsh for her. She's all proper and prim and chipper and you're just...Quinton Cane. You need someone who can stand up to you when you're being illogical and unfair. After meeting Kelly, I highly doubt she's the kind of woman do to that."

  "Harsh?" he repeated, seeming delighted. "You think I'm harsh?"

  "I don't call you jackass for nothing."

  He laughed, a smooth warm, rumble that made my body feel warm and gooey, despite the blazing heat outside. "You make me laugh, little one." He made a right turn. "Try working for me. Then you'll see what harsh really is."

  "Are you kidding? I would never work for you."

  His eyes twinkled with amusement when he looked at me. "Never say never."

  * * *

  We spent an hour and a half at a seafood restaurant in the heart of Miami. Cane told me to get whatever I wanted, so I went with the lobster and clam chowder soup. He ordered lobster as well, but instead of shrimp, he got a baked sweet potato.

  "There's something I wanted to ask you," Cane said after taking a sip of his water.

  "Yeah? What's that?" I asked, digging into my house salad.

  "Your mom was telling me about a guy you've been texting. She said you've been very secretive about him and not giving up too many details." Cane quirked an eyebrow. "Who is this mystery man?"

  I laughed. Why did he even care? "I don't think that's any of your business!"

  That was an interesting question. There was a guy, but it wasn't too serious with him. His name was Carl Ridley and he was a running back for my school. We would text here and there, kiss on the cheek when we saw one another in the hallways. His father was a pastor and his mom was the assistant pastor, so he refused to kiss on the lips until he actually loved a girl, but I didn't want love with him so I didn't mind it. He was nice and kind of funny.

  "Does your dad know much about him?" Cane asked.

  "I doubt it. I'm sure he would have asked me more about him by now. I'm surprised Mom hasn't told him that."

  "Yeah, well she told me when he wasn't around. She thinks I'm a good listener. Good at keeping secrets too." Cane sat back in his chair, smirking as he looked me over.

  "What?" I asked, suddenly nervous. I dropped my gaze to my plate, but still felt him looking at me.

  "Just make sure he treats you right," he said after a brief silence. "Last thing any of us wants is to see you get hurt."

  I picked my head up and met his gaze. Our eyes locked and when they did, my tongue instinctively ran over my bottom lip. I wasn't sure if it was in my head, the way he stared at my mouth and hardly blinked, but it almost seemed like he couldn't pull his eyes away from me.

  In fact, he didn't look away until his cellphone rang on the table. I happened to catch a glance at it before he could pick it up, and saw Kelly's name on the screen.

  I sighed, shifting my ranch-dampened lettuce around in the bowl with my fork, pretending her name alone didn't bother me. Cane answered, trying to keep the conversation quiet. And when he said, "Yeah, I'll be there in an hour," my heart dropped to my stomach.

  "Sorry about that," he murmured.

  I shrugged like I didn't care. "It's okay. I have a lot of homework to get done tonight. You should probably get me home anyway."

  He nodded. "Sure. Let me get the bill."

  After Cane paid, we were out of the restaurant in a heartbeat. He opened the car door for me again and I forced a smile up at him, sliding into the passenger seat and clipping my seatbelt.

  What was my deal? I couldn't believe I was so upset about this. Kelly was his girlfriend and I was his best friend's daughter. He didn't see it any other way--couldn't see it any other way, so how could I?

  Cane finally got behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove away from the restaurant. "Did you like that place?" he asked.

  "Yeah. It was pretty good," I said with another small smile.

  "Good. I'll have to take you to this other spot on the beach. Not seafood, but they have amazing soul food." He turned the radio on, most likely to avoid the awkward silence, and when a song by OneRepublic came on, I settled in my seat, putting my feet up on the dashboard. I had to loosen up--pretend I didn't care too much. This was Cane, the only person other than Frankie who allowed me to be myself around him.

  I never felt judged around Cane or like I couldn't be myself. I knew I could get away with things with him, that I would never be able to get away with my parents. Mom was right about Cane, in the fact that he could keep a secret an
d he was a good listener.

  I didn't want things to get awkward. It was my first time being alone with him and I couldn't blow it, so I teased and said, "Hope you don't mind me kicking my feet up in your fancy car."

  He chuckled and his eyes softened like he was glad I wasn't making things too weird. "Get any dirt up there and you'll never set foot in my car again, Bits."

  I laughed, collecting my hair in hand and placing it all over one shoulder. When he stopped at a stoplight, he looked at me briefly before sighing.

  "I wasn't kidding about what I said earlier," he said softly. "Make sure the guy you're talking to treats you right, Kandy. I'd hate to have to come after anyone who breaks your heart."

  "That's what Dad is for," I teased with a giggle. "I'm sure he'd go after the guy in a heartbeat."

  He smiled a little but it quickly slipped away. "Not if he doesn't know about him. From what I gathered, your mom doesn't plan on telling your dad about the guy until you decide to bring him up."

  I shrugged. "He's a good person, Cane. He's nice and he doesn't force things. He's different."

  "Yeah," he scoffed, foot pressing on the gas pedal when the light turned green. "That's probably what he wants you to think. He's a teenage boy, and I know what all teenage boys think about."

  I broke out in laughter. "Just for that, maybe I'll make him my boyfriend. That will really bug you, huh?"

  He side-eyed me with furrowed brows. "You don't need a boyfriend," was all he said, but I could tell he wanted to say more.

  "He won't be my boyfriend. Don't worry. Just like Kelly isn't your type, he's not my type either. Maybe it's just a phase for both of us."

  "Yeah," he chuckled. "I never said she wasn't my type. Now you're just putting words in my mouth."

  It didn't take long for us to get home. He parked in the driveway and Mom's car was already there.

  "Would walk you in but I have to get across town for dinner," he said. "Want to beat the traffic before it piles up."

  "I understand. Dinner with Kelly." It was a statement, not a question. "At her place?"

  He nodded.

  "Oh, okay. Cool." I pushed the door open when he unlocked it and he got out of the car after popping the trunk. He took my backpack out and handed it to me, smiling when I strapped it over one shoulder.