This I Promise You

by Smith, Maureen

  Lexi and Georgina Junior exchanged cell phone numbers and promised to keep in touch.

  When Mrs. Branford slyly suggested that Lexi should leave Junior behind with Quentin’s mother, everyone laughed.

  After several group photos had been taken, Lenore pulled Lexi aside. “I would like to invite you to become an AKA, Alexis. Given your many professional accomplishments and your demonstrated commitment to service, I believe my sorors would be honored to welcome you as a member.”

  It was an olive branch if ever Lexi had heard one. She smiled warmly at the old woman. “Thank you for the generous invitation, Mrs. Harrington. I’ll definitely give it some thought.”

  Lenore lifted an eyebrow and started to say something, then reconsidered and embraced Lexi instead. “I hope you and Quentin will come back soon, dear.”

  “We will,” Lexi promised.

  After they’d exchanged final hugs with everyone and said their goodbyes, Quentin and Lexi settled Junior in the backseat, then climbed into the Escalade. It seemed a lifetime ago that they’d arrived at the estate, not knowing what to expect.

  As Quentin started the engine, Lexi gazed out the window at his family, four generations of Harringtons gathered on the porch like some ancestral portrait. Georgina stood at the center flanked by Edward and Olivia, their arms wrapped around one another’s waists. A united front at last.

  Profoundly moved by the powerful tableau, Lexi took out her phone and snapped one last picture of the large clan, smiling when several of them waved back at her.

  Staring out the window at his family, Quentin murmured, “What you said before about my mother…you were right. This is her journey, and I have to let her make it.”

  Lexi turned to smile at him. “I’m so proud of you.”

  His eyes flashed. “Don’t be. I meant what I said about setting this muthafucka ablaze if anyone hurts my mama.”

  Lexi gasped. “Q!”

  Laughing, he leaned over and kissed her tenderly, then traced the back of his knuckles along her cheek and smiled. “Let’s go home, sweetness.”

  20

  Two weeks later

  Quentin paced across the floor of his downtown office, speaking into his handheld dictation device as he formulated a strategic planning memorandum for the pending class action lawsuit. His worktable was covered with legal debris—drafts of depositions, talking points, volumes of the U.S. Code turned to the pages of Georgia’s employment statutes.

  “Subpoena employment records for the past ten years, establish pattern of systematic discrimination in the hiring and discharge of employees,” he dictated into the handheld. “Reminder: have Frances mail out notices to all class members notifying them of their right to opt out before—”

  “Mr. Reddick?”

  Quentin glanced around to find Judson Walsh’s new paralegal standing in the doorway, watching him with an appreciative smile. For a moment her name escaped him and he stared at her with blank, unfocused eyes.

  “Chara Gibson,” she reminded him. “We met a few weeks ago.”

  “Right.” Chara was the inappropriately dressed employee who’d showed up at the conference room under the guise of preparing for a meeting. She’d all but thrown herself at Quentin and Marcus, which had been the first strike against her. Something told him the second and third strikes weren’t far behind.

  She gave him a simpering smile. “I am so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Reddick. I know how incredibly busy you are—”

  “How did you get past my secretary?” he asked bluntly.

  “She wasn’t at her desk,” Chara hastened to explain. “She must have stepped away to use the restroom.”

  “I see.” Walking back over to his desk, Quentin set down the dictation device, but deliberately left it on. “What can I do for you, Miss Gibson?”

  “Well, as you may know, I’m planning to apply to law school, so I’m preparing to take the LSAT. I’ve heard how hard the exam is, so I was just wondering if you could give me a few study tips and also share some advice about getting into law school.”

  Quentin lifted a single brow. “So let me get this straight. You bypassed every other lawyer in this building to come talk to me about the LSAT and law school?”

  Strike Two.

  She let out a breathy laugh. “It sounds silly when you put it that way. I know I could have gone to anyone else, and I probably should have. But as I mentioned before, I have so much respect and admiration for you and Mr. Wolf. You’ve both been such an inspiration to me, and I’ve heard how much you enjoy mentoring associates. It would really mean a lot to me to get your advice.” Her green eyes twinkled. “Plus I heard you scored a perfect 180 on the LSAT. Whether you’re a genius or just really good at taking tests, I’d love to know your secret.”

  Quentin cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face.

  Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she shifted from one foot to the other while clutching a legal pad to her chest. She was dressed more conservatively today in a cream pullover and dark slacks. If nothing else, she’d heeded Mrs. Akonye’s warning about her wardrobe.

  Quentin rotated his wrist and glanced down at the Patek Philippe watch peeking out from beneath his white French cuff. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

  Beaming with pleasure, Chara moved to close the door.

  “No.” His voice cut across the room. “Leave it open.”

  He saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes before she shrugged and said brightly, “Okay. Whatever you prefer.”

  It was all Quentin could do not to laugh. Did she not know who she was dealing with? Did she not realize that he’d perfected the art of running game while she was still in diapers? She was so out of her depth right now he almost felt sorry for her.

  He motioned her into one of the leather visitor chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

  She sashayed forward and sat down with her legal pad on her lap. Smiling up at him, she tossed her hair over one shoulder and provocatively crossed her legs.

  Trying not to smirk at her lack of subtlety, Quentin lowered himself into his chair and leaned back with his fingers steepled in front of his face. “The next time you’d like to meet with me, please make an appointment with my secretary.”

  “I will,” she promised. “I know how valuable your time is, so thank you for sparing me a few minutes.”

  “You’re welcome,” he drawled.

  She should have stopped right there.

  “I know I can’t afford your billable hours.” She paused. “Unless…”

  He lifted a brow. “Unless what?”

  Her smile turned coy and she let her gaze slide over him. “Unless you accept other forms of payment.”

  Didn’t waste any time, did she?

  “Other forms of payment?” he repeated.

  She nodded, a suggestive gleam in her eyes. “I could make it worth your while…if you’re interested.”

  Strike Three.

  Quentin sat forward in his chair. “I’m not.”

  She held his direct gaze for a long moment, then demurely lowered her eyes to her legal pad. For someone who’d come there under the pretext of seeking study tips and advice, she hadn’t even bothered to bring a pen to take “notes.”

  Quentin contemplated her across the desk, his brain clicking into strategy mode. “So how do you like working here, Miss Gibson?” he asked conversationally.

  She beamed at him. “I love it. This is such a great company. I couldn’t ask for a better salary and benefits, my job is challenging and the facilities are ah-mazing. I mean, there’s a fitness center with a spa, an espresso bar and a four-star restaurant. What’s not to like about working here?”

  Quentin hid a smile. He couldn’t have asked for a better endorsement if he’d drafted it himself. “I’m glad you’re having such a positive experience here.”

  “Oh, I am.” She grinned. “All my friends are so jealous of me. Can’t say I blame them. I’d be jealous too if one of
them worked here instead of me. Not only is this one of the top law firms in the country, but you’ve also got the best-looking attorneys.”

  “Think so?”

  “Definitely.” She winked. “Starting from the top.”

  “Hmm,” was his noncommittal response.

  Her gaze lowered to the picture of him and Lexi on the desk. Without asking for permission, she reached over and picked up the photograph. “Is this your wife?”

  Obviously. “Yes.”

  Chara studied the photo. “What a gorgeous lavender field. Where did you get married?”

  “France.”

  “Oh, wow. How romantic. It looks so beautiful and scenic there.” She stared at the picture a moment longer, then added as an afterthought, “Your wife is cute.”

  The underwhelming compliment made Quentin chuckle to himself. The petty games women play.

  Chara put the photo down. Completely ignoring Junior’s picture, she sat back in the chair and slowly crossed her legs as she smiled at Quentin. “I’m sure you hear this all the time, but you have really beautiful eyes.”

  He inclined his head. He could tell by her expression that she was waiting for him to return the compliment. He didn’t, of course.

  After another moment, her smile turned whimsical. “If the two of us ever had children together,” she mused, “I wonder what color their eyes would be.”

  Quentin went still.

  In the heavy silence that followed, Chara had the stricken look of someone who just realized she’d unintentionally spoken aloud.

  She stared at Quentin as his eyes narrowed and he demanded in a softly menacing tone, “What did you just say?”

  She started to stammer. “I…I d-didn’t—”

  He’d heard enough.

  “Your services are no longer needed, Miss Gibson.” His voice was flat and hard. “Please go back to your office and clear out your desk.”

  “What?” She looked astonished. “You’re firing me?”

  “Absolutely. You’ve proved that you’re not a good fit for this firm. So you need to get your belongings, turn in your company keys to HR and vacate the premises. You have half an hour before I call security.”

  “But…but—”

  “The clock’s ticking, Miss Gibson.”

  “But I didn’t do anything!” she protested.

  “You did plenty.”

  Her eyes flashed with sudden anger. “You can’t fire me! I’ll sue you—”

  “I wish you would. Assuming your case ever makes it to court, it’ll get tossed out as soon as the judge hears this recording.”

  Alarm swept across her face. “What recording?”

  “Of the conversation we just had. The conversation in which you propositioned me for sex—which is in direct violation of Article Four, Section Three of the employee code of conduct.” Quentin picked up his dictation device, watching as her eyes widened in dismay at the realization that he’d recorded every damning word out of her mouth.

  He stood, leaning across the desk. “Don’t come for me, Miss Gibson. I will annihilate you.”

  The blood drained from her face, and she visibly shrank in the chair.

  Quentin glanced pointedly at his watch. “You now have twenty-six minutes.”

  She just sat there looking stunned. When he rounded the desk, she got clumsily to her feet, rapidly blinking back tears.

  Just then the intercom on his desk buzzed. “Mr. Reddick? Your wife is here to see you.”

  His expression softened. “Send her in, Frances. And hold my calls.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chara hung her head like a chastened schoolgirl as she followed Quentin across the room. They reached the doorway just as Lexi appeared. She was wearing a slim gray turtleneck dress with tall red stilettos that accentuated her toned, gorgeous legs. Her matching red designer handbag was tucked into the crook of her arm.

  “Hey, baby,” she greeted him as Chara shouldered past her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.”

  “It’s fine. We’re done.” He curved his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

  Chara turned back toward him. “Mr. Reddick—”

  Without taking his eyes off his wife, Quentin pushed the door with one hand, closing it in Chara’s startled face.

  Lexi gave him a curious look. “Who’s the new girl?”

  “Doesn’t matter. She won’t be around anymore.”

  “Oh, dear. Didn’t work out?”

  “Misplaced priorities.” Quentin lowered his head to Lexi’s full lips and crushed them in a kiss. Sighing with pleasure, she dropped her purse on the floor and looped her arms around his neck.

  Framing her face between his hands, he traced her lush mouth with his tongue and sucked on her bottom lip, making her moan.

  “Damn, girl, what you been eating?” he rumbled appreciatively. “You taste like brown sugar and honey.”

  “That’s all me, baby,” she purred, twirling her sweet tongue around his. His groin tightened and his dick surged in his pants.

  “What brings you here?” he whispered between kisses. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to the library for your foodie panel discussion?”

  “Um-hmm. But I had some time to kill, so I thought I’d pop over and say hello.”

  “Well…hello.”

  Her sultry laugh made him shiver. “Hello to you too.”

  When he picked her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist, smiling into his eyes as he carried her slowly to his desk and eased them down into the chair. As she straddled his lap, her dress rode up her thick thighs, rising high enough to give him a peek of her black lace panties. If he hadn’t been turned on before, that would have done the trick.

  He slid his hands up her legs, reaching under her dress to palm the curves of her ass exposed by her skimpy underwear. He kneaded the plump flesh, enjoying her throaty moan of pleasure. Closing her eyes, she arched backward as he reached between her thighs and cupped her mound. He could feel the wet heat of her pussy through her lace panties, and it made him so hard he almost came in his pants.

  He sucked at her lips as he stroked her clit, feeling her tremble against his hand. “Better forget about that panel discussion,” he murmured teasingly.

  “Uh-uh.” She gave a breathy laugh and pulled away, blowing her long bangs out of her glittering eyes. “You know I have to be there.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” Before he could protest any further, she slid off his lap and stood. Her deliciously naughty smile gave him goose bumps.

  “I don’t have time for a quickie today,” she purred, kneeling between his legs, “but I’ve been craving the taste of your cum. So I came to get some.”

  “Holy shit,” Quentin whispered, staring down at her as she slowly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. When she pulled the zipper down with her teeth, his dick jerked at the sexy, tantalizing image.

  He watched as she reached inside his dark boxer briefs and wrapped her fingers around his hard cock. At the touch of her hand, his breath hissed out between his teeth and he shuddered.

  Smiling seductively, she pushed down his briefs and pulled his engorged dick away from his stomach. Pulse hammering, he sat back in the chair, one hand gripping the padded leather armrest while the other sank into her soft hair.

  Looking up at him, she teased the underside of his cock with those plump, moist lips.

  Lust exploded in his veins. “Fuck, baby.”

  “I got you.” She licked the throbbing vein that coursed the length of his dick, then swirled her tongue around the sensitive head. It felt so good his toes curled and he bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to break the skin.

  She watched his reaction, her eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction. Slowly, provocatively, she sucked him all the way to the back of her throat.

  His ass lifted off the seat. “Ah. Fuck!”

  Lexi smiled around his girth and put her hand on his straining thigh, telling
him without words to sit back down.

  He obeyed, his head falling back against the chair as she began pumping him in and out of her hot, wickedly wet mouth. He groaned, his fingers digging into her scalp as her tongue swirled over and around his shaft, licking and sucking him while she used her other hand to massage his heavy balls.

  “Ah, shit, sweetness,” he whispered hoarsely, mesmerized by the sight of his dick disappearing completely between her plush lips. He knew, without an ounce of conceit, that he was more than well endowed. So every time he watched his wife take all his inches and deep-throat him, he was left in awe of her unsurpassed talent.

  Staring into his eyes, she gripped the base of his cock, closed her lips around the head and sucked him like her favorite lollipop. His hips bucked and he made a strangled sound, something between a moan and a whimper. Totally unmanly. But damn if he could help it. What she was doing to him…There were no words.

  “Lex…ah, fuck, sugar…” His balls were drawn tight, burning with the need for release.

  “Whose dick is this?” she demanded in a sexy, authoritative voice.

  “Yours,” he groaned. “It’s all yours.”

  “That’s right. Mine.” She eased him deep into her silken mouth, hollowed out her cheeks and gave him a long, hard suck that felt so incredible, he cried out like a bitch.

  Seconds later he exploded in her mouth, his release almost painful in its intensity. Lexi purred with delight, her mouth keeping up the suction while he spurted hotly into her. As he kept coming and coming, she swallowed his semen without spilling a single drop.

  When his orgasm began to subside, he reached down and fisted his cock, pumping the last spurts of cum onto her tongue.

  “That’s right, baby,” she breathed. “Give it up to me. I want all of it.”

  When he had nothing left—literally and figuratively—he slumped back in his chair, gasping for breath.

  Lexi delicately wiped the corners of her mouth and licked her lips with wicked satisfaction.

  He closed his eyes, thoroughly spent in the aftermath of his explosive orgasm. Languidly he stroked Lexi’s hair as she neatly tucked him back into his pants, zipped him up and refastened his belt.