by Mz. Robinson
“You got jokes,” I said. “We’ll see how many laughs I get when I get the chance--” My words were halted by the warm, wet feel of her lips wrapping around my dick. “Damn…” I moaned.
Octavia slowly sucked my lower head while rolling her tongue back and forth. The sound of her lips popping as she inched closer and closer to the base of my dick caused it to swell even more. She pulled me from her lips then licked up then down and finally around my head before plunging down on my pole and giving me free reign to her throat. My knees shook as she bobbed up and down, and up and down again, then shook her head back and forth making my dick jump in her mouth. “Yes!” I moaned, grabbing a hand full of her hair. My heart began to beat quickly as Octavia moved her lips to my sack and started to suck it gently. I stared in her honey-brown eyes watching as she released my sack then returned to my rock-hard pole. She plunged down again then came back up, concentrating on my head. She locked her lips around my man, rotating her tongue around and around and around until the muscles in my thighs and stomach constricted almost to the point of being unbearable.
“Here it comes...” I moaned. “Here it comes...” My heart felt like it was in a marathon; racing to the finish line as I closed my eyes and released my liquid buildup. Octavia held me in between her jaws until I was deflated; then she swallowed, and took me in her mouth again.
“Shit!” I yelled, flinching from the tingling sensation.
“Daddy?” Jasmine called. I quickly pulled the pantry doors closed. Octavia continued to clutch me in between her lips.
“Da…dad…dy’s…coming baby,” I heaved, attempting to pull away from Octavia’s grasp. “Stop it!” I whispered to Octavia.
“Where are you?” Jasmine called. A minute later, I heard a small tap on the pantry door. I quickly pushed Octavia away, and pulled up my shorts. Octavia covered her mouth in an attempt to muffle her laugh.
“Daddy? Mommy? Are you praying…?”
“No, baby, why?” Octavia asked.
“Why are you on the floor?” Jasmine asked innocently.
“Daddy was praying and I was helping to answer his prayers.” Octavia said, rising to her feet.
“Oh,” Jasmine said. “Why Daddy not on his knees then?”
“Why ‘isn’t’ Daddy on his knees,” Octavia corrected her. “And soon he will be. In fact, Daddy normally stays on his knees daily. How do you think we got you?” Octavia grinned looking at me.
“You’re bad,” I whispered, chuckling.
“And you love it,” she said.
“That I do,” I said before opening the pantry doors and stepping out. Jasmine stood with her eyes wide, holding her doll in her hands. “Hey munchkin,” I smiled, lifting her up into my arms.
“Did you get what you asked for?” Jasmine asked curiously.
“That and then some,” I said, looking back at Octavia. She winked her eye, and then left the room.
*****
My employees were in full swing when I finally made it to my office and I was still on a natural high from the head job my wife had given me an hour earlier. After thanking everyone for their concern in regards to Octavia, I went to my office, closed the door and went to work. I was not only thankful, but impressed by how well my team had managed in my absence. I still had an abundance of messages, but the important thing was that there were no major issues and we were still turning a profit. I was replaying my voicemail messages when I stumbled one that caught my attention.
“Damon, this is Clint Harvey; call me at 256-555-5987 when you get this message. I’m thinking of investing in a few businesses and I need some professional advice.”
The message was left around the time that I had been gone from the office to tend to Octavia during her stay at the hospital. I called the number Clint left on my voicemail only to discover his number was no longer in service. I made another call, this time to Charles.
“What’s going on son?” Charles answered.
“Clint Harvey called me,” I explained.
“What did he want?”
“He said he was looking to invest.”
“When was this?”
“It was four weeks ago,” I said. “I’m just now checking my messages and when I called the number back it said the number is out of service.”
“What do you think he really wanted?” Charles asked from the other end of the phone.
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “I haven’t seen the man since the trial and the two of us didn’t say as much as ‘hello’ even then.”
“You want me to make a few calls?” Charles asked. “See if any of my old buddies has heard anything?”
Charles was referring to his comrades that he once associated with when he was an active private investigator. Any time Charles called in a favor, information was provided if there was some to be found.
“Do that please,” I said. Two hours later Charles called me back.
“As it turns out your boy Clint has been seen,” he informed me.
“Really? Where?”
“Vacationing on the islands of St. Maarten.”
“Spending the money he earned from Gator,” I said. “Maybe he really did need my professional advice.”
“Maybe,” Charles said. “I now know why his number is no longer in service.”
“Why is that?”
“When he was spotted he wasn’t alone.” Charles said. “He was in the company of a Mrs. Diamond Douglass, aka, Gator’s wife; and sources say the two of them looked quit cozy.”
“So that’s the reason Clint’s on the run,” I stated.
“To be honest, I don’t think he has any reason to be alarmed,” Charles said. “Gator’s behind bars, his organization is almost obsolete, and his associates are probably happy he’s on lock so they can take the lead. Not to mention, it’s clear he doesn’t have his wife’s loyalty.”
“That’s true,” I said. “Well, now we know.”
“That we do son,” Charles said.
Chapter 7
Octavia
On the outside I looked fine; my body was quickly returning to its form and shape before my pregnancy, but inside I still felt dull like there was something missing or as if an unknown force were reaching out to me. A force, that at times felt like it was stronger than everything I had inside of me, and that at any second it might overpower me and everything that makes me who I am would be lost. I knew I had to move on and regain my inner power and one of the best ways for me to actually do so was for me to get up and get moving. I had to for the sake of my husband, my daughter, and most importantly…my sanity.
I decided my first step would be returning to work. My employees greeted me with open arms and an abundance of “Welcome backs” as I made my rounds throughout the building, taking the time to converse with each one of them and let them know how much they were appreciated. My spirits were instantly lifted just by being in the midst of the lively group of men and women that made up my team. I hadn’t seen Tabitha on the floor, so I assumed she was in my office; when I turned the handle and opened the door, I discovered I was right. I wasn’t, however, prepared for what my eyes stumbled upon. She sat in my chair with her back to the door while talking on the phone. She was reclining comfortably in the leather high back and had the nerve to have her feet propped up against my office wall! It was clear to me from the laughter in her voice that she was enjoying her conversation. I stepped inside the room, then pushed on the door closed, causing it to slam.
“Hold on,” she said to the person on the other end. She dropped her feet from their elevated position and spun around in the chair; looking at me. “Octavia!” she said quickly. She hopped up; smoothing her hands over the front of the fitted jacket and skirt she wore.
“Good Morning,” I said, walking up to the desk. I sat my handbag on the edge along with my keys, while giving Tabitha a look that said, “Step aside.” I received confirmation that she got the message when she hauled ass moving from behind my desk.
“Good Morning,” she said. She didn’t bother saying anything to her caller and instead pressed a button, I assumed to end the call. There was a change in her appearance, and not just in her choice of attire, which had not been approved by me nor my husband, but her normally natural skin was now adorned with bold makeup and her blond hair was highlighted with warm shades of red. She looked nice, I won’t deny that, but it was totally unexpected.
“Did I disturb you?” I asked, walking around the desk and then sitting down in the chair.
“Of course not boss,” she said nervously. “You could never disturb me. I’m surprised to see you back so soon.”
“I felt it was necessary,” I said staring at her. Obviously, my feelings were justified, I thought.
“Well, I think you’ll find everything in its place and exactly how you like it,” she said. “In fact, I was just placing an order with one of the vendors. I noticed some of the table cloths needed replacing so I took the courtesy of ordering replacements.” She leaned over then showed me a list of linens and other supplies that she had checked off. The name gracing the top of the invoice was for a company I had never heard of before.
“Thank you for taking the initiative,” I said, staring at the list. “However, I have a preferred company that I use.”
“Alabama linens and things,” she said, nodding her head. “I saw their contact information saved in the vendor folder, but I thought we could do better. I found someone with far better prices and--”
“Price isn’t an issue,” I stopped her. “Alabama linens and supplies is locally owned and operated and I’ve been dealing with them since I started my business. We have a great business relationship and I’m pleased with them.”
“I’m sure you are,” she debated politely. “But sometimes we have to step outside of our local area to save a few dollars. I know there is only like a three dollar difference, but think about how those dollars can add up over the years.” Tabitha had a very good point with her debate; however, the problem was that the subject was not up for discussion. I didn’t feel the need, nor did I have to explain to Tabitha that another reason why I continued to support ALT was because the company was minority female owned and I believed in supporting my sisters in business.
“Again, thank you for your initiative,” I said pleasantly. “But I’m happy with our current supplier. You can cancel the order you made and I’ll call my sales rep at ALT.” Tabitha blinked several times while looking at me. I could see in her glare that she wanted to say something more, but she knew better.
“I’ll take care of it,” she said. “Is there anything else?” There was attitude in her voice and her stance. I wanted to tell her that right now was not her moment, and despite what I had been through I would still get in her ass. I chose to dismiss her behavior as stress and the fact that she needed a break.
“That’s it for now,” I said. She sucked on her teeth then turned on her heels and exited out the door. No, the hell she didn’t! I thought. My conversation with Damon about promoting Tabitha resounded in my head. Maybe he was right, I thought to myself. I called my hubby to give him an update on how I was doing, and then I continued to go through the latest paperwork for the day. It took me just under an hour to catch up with my paperwork; from there I tackled the mail.
As I sifted through the mail I found a card addressed to me with a return address from Selma, Alabama. It was from Betty Fletcher, Amel’s mother. The card thanked me for the flowers I sent to her home and for the monetary donation. I had to fight back the tears as I read the handwritten expression of gratitude which included Ms. Fletcher stating she understood why I couldn’t be in attendance at Amel’s homegoing service. I had been so caught up in my own struggle that I had neglected to reach out to the woman concerning her loss; and naturally assumed my husband had.
When I placed the call to my husband to tell him thank you for being so thoughtful on my behalf, I discovered that he wasn’t responsible; I then paged the hostess station and asked Kaitlyn to send Tabitha in to see me.
“Hey,” Tabitha said, poking her head in the room.
“Did you send Ms. Fletcher flowers for Amel?” I asked.
“Yes. I thought that would be okay,” she said frowning. “We took up a collection for her too. I apologize for signing your name. It won’t happen again.”
I still felt some kind of way about her behavior, but I also felt gratitude for Tabitha going above and beyond in this regard.
“Come in and sit down,” I said. She shut the door then walked over and eased down in one of the chairs in front of my desk.
“That was really sweet of you,” I said honestly. “Thank you.”
“It was nothing,” she said. “I know that’s what you would have wanted and you would have done it for me.”
I nodded my head in agreement. “I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful,” I said, staring at her.
“I didn’t mean to step on your toes,” she said, her voice cracking lightly. “I just wanted to prove to you and to myself that I could handle things in your absence. Please don’t take my actions as disrespect because I didn’t mean them that way.”
The tension and mood between us slowly began to lighten.
“You did a great job,” I reassured her.
“Thank you,” she said. “So how are you feeling?”
“I’m better.”
“One day at a time,” she told me. She stood then adjusted her jacket. “Oh, I’ll be back in uniform tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said sincerely. “I’m okay with the way you’re currently dressed.”
Tabitha’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Seriously?” She grinned.
“Yes, you look nice.” I said. “In fact, I’m going to let Marilyn know that from here on out the lead hostess at the Ambiance 2 can now wear business casual attire there too.” The glimmer in Tabitha’s eyes darkened slightly, however, she continued to grin brightly.
“Sounds good,” she said. “Well, let me get back to my job. Oh, the doctor is in the dining room and she asked about you.”
Damon had mentioned that Shayla had come to visit while I was in recovery and that she was the one who had driven me to the hospital. The doctors told me at the time, that if I had been just a minute later in receiving treatment, it was possible that things would have been ten times worst. I knew that saving lives was a part of the pledge Shayla had taken as a physician, but I wanted to give her a personal thank you because she didn’t have to help.
“Thanks Tabitha,” I said as I stood up. “Can you make sure we cover her bill?”
“Sure can,” Tabitha said, “she’s in section E.”
“Let her know I’ll be out to see her in a moment,” I instructed.
After Tabitha left, I went into my payroll database, calculated the total amount of Amel’s final work hours and wrote a check in her mother’s name with an additional amount added on. I stuffed the check in an envelope addressed to Mrs. Fletcher and placed the envelope in the bin for outgoing mail.
*****
“Hi there,” I said, approaching the booth where Shayla sat. She was alone and looked completely engulfed in the book she held in front of her face.
“Octavia,” she said cheerfully. She placed the book down and stood to greet me. She wore a fitted wrap dress that hugged her curves nicely. She gave me a friendly and unexpected hug before sitting back down. “Sit,” she ordered. “How are you?”
“I’m better,” I said, sliding in the booth opposite of her. “Thank you for asking and for the things you did. My husband told me you were the one that drove me to the ER.”
“You don’t remember?” she questioned.
“I remember bits and pieces,” I said.
“You were going in and out,” she said, shaking her head. “Sometimes experiencing extreme trauma can cause the mind to repress certain memories. It’s not uncommon.”
“Well, I’ve had my share of trauma in the last year,” I said, thinking ab
out my kidnapping. “Scratch that…the last four years!” I added remembering the day Beau attacked me and tried to kill Damon.
“I can relate,” Shayla sighed. “I’ve seen my own.”
“I can imagine,” I said. “Being a doctor has got to be one of the hardest professions there is.”
“It has its good moments,” she said. “Like seeing someone, such as you make it through alright.” She smiled at me then looked away. Her eyes and her expression became distant, like she was reliving a dark and troubling memory. “Then it has its low moments. The moments that come when you’ve done all you can do and it’s still not enough. So you hope and pray, and pray and hope…only to finally realize it’s too late.” She paused for a moment before looking at me again. “I love my profession, but there is one thing I would trade it for it.”
“What’s that?”
“The ability to give life to the dead,” she said sadly.
“There are times I wished I had that ability,” I said truthfully. I dropped my eyes to the table not wanting her to see the tears that were attempting to surface. She reached across the table and stroked my arm gently.
“It’s going to get better,” she said gently.
“I’ll be glad when it does,” I said, looking up at her. “I really will.”
“You know part of being in my line of work requires me to be a good listener,” she said smiling. I appreciated her offer; but doctor or no doctor, I chose to reserve my thoughts and feelings to be shared with my family.
“Thank you, but I’m fine,” I lied.
“I’m fine,” Shayla recited. “Famous last words.”
“I promise they won’t be for me,” I said. “Believe me.”
“Here’s the coffee you ordered,” Tabitha said, coming up from behind us. “Octavia, I took the liberty of bringing you a cup too...both with a double shot of Hershey’s Chocolate Carmel creamer.”
“My favorite,” Shayla said, waiting for Tabitha to sit the mugs down.
