by Pamela Yaye
Yeah, right, until I put my foot in my mouth and Simone gets mad at me, he thought, grabbing his beer bottle and taking a long swig. Why can’t we play something safe like dominoes, Go Fish or a spirited game of charades?
Marcus would rather have a prostate exam done live on the Today Show than subject himself to this silly, adolescent game, but since everyone was waiting expectantly, he reached inside the box and pulled out the first card he touched. Marcus hoped his selection wouldn’t stir any controversy or start any mess. Easy, run-of-the-mill questions like, “Do you have any annoying habits?” or “What would you do with a million dollars?” kept the mood light and guaranteed laughs. Anything more challenging might get him in trouble, and he didn’t want to upset Simone or earn a one-way ticket to the couch.
“Hand it over!” Wild with delight, Angela snatched the card out of his hand and read it aloud. “Do you feel it’s important to tell your significant other everything?”
Marcus felt like doing the “running man.” This was the kind of question he could answer correctly and score some points with, too. “Absolutely,” he said firmly. “That’s the cool thing about being married. You get a friend, a lover and a confidante all rolled into one.”
A proud smile spread across Simone’s juicy, pink lips.
Encouraged, he went on, “I don’t confide in Simone because I feel obligated to. I confide in her because she’s my best friend.” He turned to Nate. “Sorry, man.”
Everyone laughed.
“Simone’s a great listener, she gives good advice and I value her opinion.”
Marcus covered his wife’s hand with his own. His feelings for Simone had grown tremendously over the years, and he loved everything about her—the sound of her girly, high-pitched laugh, how sexy she looked naked, the way she purred in her sleep. Simone was a terrific wife and an outstanding mother, and he felt proud to have her by his side and in his bed.
“I’m with Marcus,” O’Neal announced, casting a protective arm around his wife’s shoulder. “The biggest mistake a man can make is keeping secrets from his woman. The last thing I’d ever want to do is to hurt my Pooh Bear, so I make a conscious effort to always...”
What’s up with O’Neal? Marcus wondered, scratching his head. Ever since the game started, the city bus driver had been gushing effusively about his wife. Marcus could understand a man wanting to win favor with his girl, hell, he’d been there a time or two before, but his weepy romantic gestures were over-the-top. To hear his buddy tell it, women were the salt of the earth and men were made to worship them. “Simone is the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said, earnestly, truthfully. “She’s got my back, and I know if I lost everything tomorrow, I’d still have her love and support.”
On the surface, Simone kept it cool, composed, but inside she was a quivering mound of jelly. Now, this is what I’m talking about! she thought, sighing happily. I’ve only read a couple chapters of A Sista’s Guide to Seduction, but it’s already producing results!
“My wife and kids are my life,” Marcus confessed. “And without them, I’m nothing.”
“That’s so sweet, baby. I feel the same way.” Simone kissed his lips. “I love you.”
“And I love you more.”
I’m definitely getting some tonight, Marcus thought, squeezing her thigh. He couldn’t wait to get home. Just the thought of making love to Simone made his heart race, pound, beat louder than a hundred tribal drums. His wife had lips made for pleasing, the flexibility of a belly dancer and hands that deserved to be enshrined on the Hollywood Walk of Fame—
“Quit lying, man.” Still in a funk about missing the game, Nate grunted and shoved Marcus’s shoulder. “You’re supposed to be answering the questions truthfully not trying to sweet-talk your wife.”
“Get out of here, man. I am telling the truth. I don’t keep secrets from Simone.”
“So you tell her everything?”
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”
Mischief flickered in Nate’s eyes. “Okay, Mr. I-Tell-My-Wife-Everything. Did you tell Simone about Miss December?”
Marcus shrugged a shoulder. “There’s nothing to tell. She’s just a client.”
Always interested in a slice of fat, juicy gossip, Tameika turned to Nate and asked, “Who’s Miss December?”
Nate bowed his head and closed his eyes as if he was about to recite the Lord’s Prayer. “Carlita de la Cruz is the first Latina supermodel to ever be featured in the Sports Illustrated calendar, and does the girl ever have a body on her. Boobs, hips, booty, the works! And her mouth is so damn sexy I shiver every time she smiles at me.”
“Stay focused,” Tameika ordered, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “So, what does this Carlita de la Cruz chick have to do with Marcus?”
“I stepped to her with my A-game, pulled out all the stops, but do you think she cared? No! She was too busy flirting with this guy—” he thumbed a finger in Marcus’s direction “—to notice me. She hopped up on the treadmill and served up a full cup of tits and ass. Had Marcus licking his lips like he’d never used lip balm a day in his life!”
Guests erupted in loud, raucous chuckles.
Marcus snuck a peek at Simone. She looked calm, composed even, but he sensed her unease. Her shoulders looked stiff, and she was twirling her wedding ring around her finger. Great, one minute she’s staring at me with love in her eyes, speaking in that slightly husky, wait-until-we-get-home voice, and now she’s looking at me like I’m one of those trifling, cheating men on Jerry Springer.
“It sounds like you’re jealous,” Angela said, raising an eyebrow.
“Hell, yeah, I’m jealous! Marcus gets mad play from his celebrity female clients and I’m stuck fighting off the butt-ugly girls! It’s not fair!”
“What’s not fair is having you as a best friend,” Marcus shot back.
Laughter rippled around the room.
Simone clutched the stem of her cocktail glass. She didn’t find anything funny about leggy calendar models throwing themselves at her husband. No wonder he comes home late from work, she thought sourly. He’s having so much fun at Samson’s he can’t remember to come home.
“Come on, man. Keep it real.” Emilio took a swig of his beer and rested the empty bottle down on the coffee table. “You’re attracted to Carlita de la Cruz just like the rest of us guys.”
“I’m not,” he argued, tightening his hold around Simone’s waist. “Carlita has an audition at the at the end of next month and she wants me to whip her body into shape—”
“I bet she does,” Jameer added with a wink and a chuckle.
Simone tried to sit as still as possible. Everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to react, waiting for her to go off on Marcus like she had so many times before. But Simone wasn’t going to lose her temper. There would be no angry glares, no hostile expressions, no snide remarks. Simone didn’t like the sound of this Miss December woman, but she wasn’t going to lose it on her husband—at least not here. “Flirting is harmless,” she said, lying through her teeth. “It’s good, clean, harmless fun, and just because you’re attracted to someone else doesn’t make you any less committed to your partner.”
Marcus thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. When did Simone get so liberal? he thought, shutting his gaping mouth. Last week she almost pinched my arm off for chatting with a woman in the drugstore, and now she’s preaching understanding?
“Who wants more wine?” Angela asked, standing. “I still have several bottles of cabernet sauvignon and even some brandy...”
Everyone got up and went into the dining room to replenish their drinks. Marcus was glad to see their friends go. He wanted to assure Simone that his relationship with Carlita was strictly platonic, but before he could speak, she snuggled up to him and said, “I don’t know what your schedule
is like next week, but I’d love for us to have a nice quiet dinner alone.”
“I think we need some one-on-one time, too,” he agreed, leaning in close. “That’s why I’ve planned a romantic weekend getaway for us.”
“You have?”
His chest puffed up with pride. “I sure did, and Mom agreed to babysit Jayden and Jordan.”
Simone blinked, waited for her husband’s words to register. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Marcus had planned a romantic trip for them and arranged child care? What the—
“You’ve been real stressed-out lately, and I wanted to do something special for you.”
Openly staring at Marcus, excitement dancing along her spine, she returned his smile. He was stroking her hands ever so lightly, playing his fingers over her wrist, gazing at her intently. It had been ages since he had looked at her that way. Simone had no idea what Marcus had up his sleeve, but she was intrigued. Overjoyed, actually. This would be the first trip they went on without the boys, and the fact that it had come in the form of a surprise made Simone feel giddy with elation. “When do we leave?”
“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Simone dropped her mouth to his ear, added a seductive purr to her tone. “Can you give me a hint? Or at least give me a clue about what the weather’s like at our secret destination?”
“Sorry, no can do.”
“How am I supposed to know what to pack if you don’t tell me where we’re going?”
“It doesn’t matter what you bring—” his eyes caught fire, blazed with a smoldering, intoxicating passion “—because we won’t be leaving our suite.”
Chapter 7
“Faster, baby, faster!” Simone yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth and leaning against the glass that separated the rink from the bleachers. “That’s it, Jordan! You can do it! Shoot!”
As Jordan reached the hockey net, he lost his footing, and slid facedown on the ice. Simone surged to her feet, stared intently at the spot where her son lay. Seconds later, Jordan popped up, adjusted his knee pads and set off, once again in pursuit of the puck.
Simone wore a wry smile. Typical Jordan. Sitting, she picked up her cup and sipped her hot chocolate. Her gaze circled the rink and fell on Jayden. He looked miserable—hobbling around with teary eyes and a runny nose and his shoulders hunched in despair.
Sighing, she shifted around on the stiff, wooden bench trying to find a comfortable spot. Simone checked her watch, wondering how many more practice drills the kids would have to do before calling it a day. Hockey was just one sport she couldn’t get into. Players were allowed to duke it out on the rink, and when they weren’t beating each other up, they chased around a puck. How exciting! That’s why when Marcus suggested enrolling the boys in little league hockey, she’d refused. Simone didn’t want her sons fighting. Or hitting. Or walking around with missing teeth. But Marcus assured her the emphasis of the sessions was on skating, and she gave in. He promised to drive them to and from practice and agreed to wash their smelly gear, too. It would be an activity the boys did with their father. Male bonding at its best. The boys would play, Marcus would supervise and Simone would have some “me time” every Monday and Thursday. Or so she thought. If she’d known that she’d be the one to drive the boys to Skater Zone Rink two weeks in a row, she would have nixed the plan.
I can’t be too angry with Marcus, she decided, stretching her legs across the bench in front of her. It’s not his fault his assistant manager is out sick.
Settling back into her seat, she cracked open Dr. RaShondra’s book and started reading.
A Seductress knows that to get love, she has to give love. And the same principle is true of romance. When was the last time you gave your man a back rub? Or took him out for a candlelit dinner? Complacency is a romance killer, so do all those things you did in the beginning to catch his eye. Wear sexy lingerie. Spray the sheets with perfume. Trade those hideous bunny slippers for a pair of leopard-print stilettos! Meow...
“Mommy!”
Simone’s head snapped up at the sound of Jayden’s earsplitting wail. He tried to skate over to her bench, but after falling, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled like a baby. Simone refrained from jumping up and racing over to him. Marcus said she babied him too much, said that she was raising him to be weak. Simone had to admit it; she did have a tendency to coddle him, but that’s what every good mother did, right?
Calmly exiting the bleachers, Simone stepped out onto the ice and helped Jayden to his feet. Careful not to collide with the other children who were doing laps around the rink, she led him over to the penalty box, sat him down on her lap and hugged him to her chest.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked, wiping the tears splashing onto his hockey jersey.
“I hate hockey!” Jayden chucked his stick on the floor. “I don’t want to play anymore. I want to go home!”
“Jayden, no one expects you to be the best skater. You’re still learning.” Simone caught sight of Jordan whizzing by and was impressed to see him skating easily. Aside from a few stumbles here and there, most of the children seemed to have the hang of it. The mother in her wanted to tell Jayden he didn’t have to play, that he could sit in the stands with her until practice ended, but the social worker in her said, “Don’t give up, Jayden. You can do it. I know you can.”
Jayden whimpered like a day-old puppy. “B-but, I don’t feel good, Mommy. My tummy hurts!” He grabbed his stomach and doubled over. “I’m sick!”
“That’s funny, you were feeling fine five minutes ago.” Simone cupped his chin and stared intently at his round, brown face. Apart from the tear streaks and the runny nose, he looked perfectly healthy. To make him feel better, Simone hummed the theme music from his favorite TV show and rubbed his stomach. “Ready to get back out there?”
“No. My stomach still hurts.”
Simone heard her cell phone ring, but she made no move to answer it. In the last week, she had applied for several part-time jobs, and her phone had been ringing incessantly all day. But now was not the time to answer questions about her work history or schedule interviews. She had to get Jayden out of the bleachers and back onto the ice. “If you’re sick then you’ll have to spend the rest of the day in bed.” Shaking her head sadly, she shifted Jayden off of her lap and onto the bench. “And that’s too bad, because I was going to take you to the museum this afternoon.”
“You were?”
“Uh-huh. Today’s the last day of the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory exhibit, and I thought you’d like to check it out.” Simone lowered her mouth to his ear and whispered, “I heard they have chocolate to eat and paint with. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
After a brief pause, Jayden wobbled to his feet. “My stomach is starting to feel better.”
“So, you want to go back out there and play?” she asked, caressing his cheek.
Jayden nodded.
Simone watched him teeter back onto the ice. When he glanced over his shoulder, she waved. “That’s it, honey! You can do it!”
Once Jayden was safely back on the ice and skating alongside Jordan, Simone took out her cell phone. A new text message from Marcus popped up on the screen.
Just wanted you to know I’m thinking about you.
A tingle fluttered through her body. This was the second message Marcus had sent today, and it was only ten o’clock! Smiling so wide her jaw ached, she sent him a short, titillating message sure to rev his engines. Since Angela’s housewarming party, she’d made a concerted effort not to argue with Marcus. When he let Jordan eat ice cream in bed and he spilled the bowl on his blanket, Simone swallowed a curse and calmly stripped the sheets. And last night when Marcus fell asleep during Angela’s segment
on Eye on Chicago, Simone didn’t elbow him in the ribs to wake him up. It was tough biting her tongue instead of speaking her mind, but Dr. RaShondra’s rules were working, and things were starting to improve at home. She was sleeping better, arguing less with the kids and laughing more with Marcus.
Crossing her legs, she pulled her sweater tightly around her shoulders and buried her face in the soft material. Marcus’s flirty text message made her feel all warm and tingly inside, but the rink was freezing cold. Simone felt like she was sitting inside a freezer, and her arms and legs were numb. Staring outside the window confirmed her worst fears. Five inches of snow had been dumped on the city overnight, and the white stuff was still raining down from the sky. Snow covered the trees and the sidewalks, and sheets of ice clung to the already slippery roads.
I can’t wait for our romantic weekend getaway, Simone thought, rubbing her chilled hands together. This time next month I’ll be somewhere warm and exotic! Their trip was still a week away, but she was so anxious to leave, she’d packed her bags and put them beside the garage door. Simone only wished she knew where they were going. Marcus was being as secretive as a Russian spy, and it didn’t matter how much she begged or pleaded, he still wouldn’t fess up. Visions of kissing under the vast Miami sky or strolling hand in hand along a white, sandy Caribbean beach played in her mind like a cherished home video. Simone told herself it didn’t matter where they were going, but it did. She wanted to go somewhere romantic, somewhere exciting and exclusive. That way, she wouldn’t have to worry about rowdy college students stumbling into them or any leggy model types pushing up on her man.
To keep from stressing over the details of their upcoming trip, Simone picked back up the little pink book and resumed reading chapter five.
Do a drive-by on your man once a week. That’s right, I said it. Swing by his job, indulge in some heavy petting and then skedaddle. He’ll be so hot for you, so turned on by that midday romp, he won’t be able to think about anything but you. So, don’t be surprised if your man comes home early from work to finish what you started...
