Alicia set her glass down near the half-eaten plate. “Tori, you don’t want to go down this road with me,” she said in the most patient tone she could manage. “I understand that this is quite … troubling for you. But baiting me is going to get you something you don’t want.”
Alicia picked up the knife and sliced a small piece of Romano crusted chicken, and placed it in her mouth, savoring it a few seconds before adding, “I try to keep my inner bitch under control. But trust me when I tell you, that you don’t want her to start doing all the talking.”
Twice, Alicia’s “inner bitch” had gotten out of hand. Once with Bernice that almost ended in a funeral. And once before at eight when one of her male relatives ended up with a knife in his genitals because he couldn’t tell the difference between his wife and his niece. Alicia landed in the police station that night wearing a blood-spattered nightgown and enough leverage to force DCFS to finally stop shifting her from relative to relative and place her and James with grandparents they wanted to be with all along.
Alicia hated going there with her niece. But they had all agreed to this bad idea. Alicia still found it hard to believe that she was actually doing this. She should’ve been on the plane to India, but something wouldn’t let her leave. Maybe it was because she had deprived herself of true love and sexual satisfaction for most of her life. Dallas was ready, willing and able to finally give it to her. And as much as she loved her niece, in her heart, Alicia longed to put her own feelings first – for once in her life.
Tori leaned against the door jamb and crossed her arms over her bosom. “I made a mistake by not having sex with Dallas. Somehow that made you relevant again.” She gave Alicia an ear-to-ear grin. “But I’ve got plenty of time to rectify that, old woman. Beauty, brains and a damn good body will win out before, barren, soon-to-be wrinkled, and one foot in the grave, every single time.”
Tori made it to the threshold but paused the moment Alicia said, “By the way, Victoria Denise Mitchell … I’d like to know one thing.”
Tori looked over her shoulder at her aunt.
Alicia smiled over the rim of her glass as she asked, “Who says you were Plan A?”
Chapter 19
7:48 p.m.
Dallas ran back into the kitchen, phone still to his ear as he grabbed his plate. He paused when he saw that Alicia was eating the rest of her meal alone.
He slid his plate back into place, and gestured to the phone.
Alicia nodded, answering his unspoken question that it was all right for him to continue with the conversation at the dinner table. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, reclaimed his seat next to her and made a little more progress on his meal as he entertained Katie’s concerns.
A few minutes later, Dallas ended the call with, “Now that’s something we can cover tomorrow.” He shifted his gaze to Alicia, who was on her dessert. “I’m being a little rude right now, so I’ve gotta go.”
He disconnected the call and set the phone next to his plate. “Where’s Tori?”
“I imagine that she’s moping in her room.”
Dallas sighed his impatience. “I was only gone for ten minutes. What happened?”
“She’s got a headache that matches her oversized ego.”
Dallas looked at her for a long while, then nodded. “I think in the next week or so, she’ll be packing up—of her own accord.”
“A week?” Alicia protested. “That long?”
He lifted her hand, brought it to his lips and gave her a small kiss. “I know this is hard, but if I break it off with Tori, number one, she’ll be hurt and that’s not fair, and number two, I don’t know what she’ll do if she gets angry. She can be vindictive and there’s a lot on my table right now.”
Alicia nodded. “And number three, keep her around and you can have your children.”
Dallas sighed, as if he didn’t want to have that conversation. “I just said she’ll be gone in a week.”
“And you’re going to use me to accomplish that.”
He placed a hand over hers. “I don’t have to use anyone, Alicia. And I resent you saying it. She knew about you in the beginning.”
“But she didn’t know it was me,” she protested. “Or that I would be back in the picture.”
“Neither did I,” Dallas admitted. “And I’m not going to apologize for the fact that I’m grateful that the woman I actually want is back in my life.” He locked a gaze with her and added, “You left and I kept on living, but I never really loved again. I couldn’t. Because I never understood why you left me ...”
* * *
Charity Auction for the Paul Alexander Foundation
Three years ago
“Thank you for your patience!” the strawberry blond host crowed to the expectant crowd who had waited through double overtime for Dallas Avery to arrive. “Folks, our grand prize bachelor is in the house. So let’s get this done. “ Hearty applause rang out as he reached into the envelope and pulled out a slip of paper. “And the winner for dinner—oh, that rhymed,” he said with a laugh and unfolded the sheet. “is … Alicia Mitchell from Chicago, Illinois.
Dallas, clad in a black tux, left the stage amid a weak smattering of unenthusiastic applause and walked past several crest-fallen women who had also put in a silent bid to have dinner with him.
Alicia was dressed in an elegant strapless emerald gown that hugged her curves as if she were born into it. Poise, strength and sensuality came through as he had watched her progression from the bidding stations all the way to the artwork.
When he made it to her side, she held out a glossy photo of him supplied by the foundation. “All I want is a personal autograph.” She presented a pen and tapped it on the edge of the picture. “Dinner isn’t necessary.”
That right there had set her apart from all of the other hungry fillies who were galloping to him the moment he arrived.
“Don’t you want to have dinner with the actual man, rather than curl up with a picture?”
“No thanks,” she quipped. “The actual man seems like he’s entirely too much work.” Then she checked her watch. “Besides, I have a plane to catch. The Red Eye waits for no one.”
“I apologize for being late.”
“I don’t hold that against you,” she said giving him a megawatt smile. “The Miami Heat was giving you all a run for the money.”
“And we finally spanked that ass,” he said proudly. “But I’d like the opportunity to prove you wrong. I’m not really that much work.” He grinned.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” she replied, holding out the pen.
“But I want to.”
“Turn off the charm, Mr. Avery,” she teased. “There are plenty of women you can use it on tonight.” She nodded toward the group of sad-looking women who were watching their exchange.
He held his hand over his heart. “How can a Mavericks fan say those things to me?”
Alicia laughed. “Oh, I’m Bulls fan through and through.”
“What?” He looked around, then put his arm around her waist guiding her away from the other guests. “Shhhh, don’t say that too loud. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She glanced over to the few people who were murmuring as they followed their progress.
“I’ve been a basketball fan since the Michael Jordan era,” she admitted. “That’s when the Chicago Bulls elevated the game.”
Dallas extracted his hold from her. “Hold up, they didn’t ‘elevate the game,’ woman. They played some damn good ball, but that’s reaching.”
“Watch it, Dallas,” she said. “Your fangs are showing.”
“Fangs my ass,” he countered, pausing long enough to sign an autograph for one of the more zealous women who felt no shame interrupting them. Turning back to the woman, he continued, “Jordan was no saint. Trust me.”
“Like you have a halo of your own,” she teased, ignoring the woman who gave her a venomous look before stalking off.
“I admit, it’s a l
ittle bent, but it’s still there,” he said, pretending to straighten an imaginary halo and causing Alicia to laugh. “So, if you’re not feeling the team, then why are you here?”
“I like the cause,” she quipped. “You’ve been on my radar since that interview with Robin Roberts. I’ve watched so many of those and when they ask that question: ‘Why did you get into basketball?’ a lot of players answer with the usual stuff: ‘to help my family,’ ‘to get fly cars and mansions,’ ‘it’s all I ever wanted to do.’
“But your response … ‘I love basketball, through and through, but right now there is something more important than money. My mother’s just been diagnosed with cancer. This contract will give me the funds to get her the best treatment possible … That’s my only focus right now. Keeping my mother here on this earth …’”
Dallas stared at her before finally saying, “You memorized what I said?”
She nodded. “I admired that. With all of the egos and grandstanding in the field these days, it was a refreshing change.”
Dallas leaned in pressed a kiss to her cheek, beaming as he said, “So now I have a new mission in life.”
Alicia’s eyebrow shot up.
“It’s my job to make sure you a Mavericks fan.”
“I’ll be a Dallas Avery fan,” she corrected. “The only time I won’t cheer you on is when your team plays against the Bulls. I hope you understand, ‘cause loyalty is my strong suit.”
Dallas stared into her eyes. “We’ll work on that whole Bulls thing.”
She laughed and lifted her glass in mock salute. “You can always try.”
“So, let’s start with that dinner.”
And that’s what they did. In between snippets of conversation, her knowledge of how to “grow” all the money he had coming in held him captive.
Alicia folded her arms across her breasts. “For me, it was always about being wealthy, not rich. When my husband died, I invested the majority of his insurance money so that I wouldn’t have to worry about money for the rest of my life. I work hard to live off the interest. You’re younger, so you can take a lot of risks right now and have time to recover. I couldn’t do that, so I played it smart and safe.”
“So what did you put your money in?” he asked.
“I split my focus,” she replied. “Half of it into investments with a guaranteed rate of return. The rest, I basically followed the market. Whatever the top fifteen stocks were that month, I bought them. The next month I sold them and bought the next top ones and kept it going like that for the last four years.”
“The hot hands method.”
She nodded. “I’ve made a mint just on doing that alone.” She placed her hand over his. “Don’t end up like so many other ones, Dallas. Pay attention to your money. You want to your money to still be working for you—even when you’re sleeping.”
Dallas tilted his head, looking at Alicia as though really seeing her for the first time. “Woman, you’re talking my language!”
As the night went on, the conversation ventured from money to politics to their views on relationships.
As each hour passed, Dallas knew that he was attracted to her. Physically, of course, but what had him going was that it was beyond that. He loved her mind. He couldn’t think of another woman that he’d ever wanted do much.
He felt like he’d just scored the winning shot when he convinced her to come to his condo. “You were talking about real estate investments, you should check out mine.”
She looked at his as if she wasn’t sure of his motives, but she agreed.
But they’d decided to stroll to his condo which wasn’t far from the hotel, they were caught in a torrential rain and landed in a cab. Dallas loved that Alicia laughed about it rather than being upset over her ruined dress or drenched hair.
When they arrived at the nearly empty condo where Dallas lived, he showed her to the guest bedroom. “You can get out of that wet gown and change into this.” He gave her one of his button-down shirts. “I don’t think I have any pants that you can wear.”
But when she changed and stood in the doorway of his bedroom, he couldn’t help himself. His gaze swept across her body and the heat that flamed through him made him unable to look away. He was by her side in the few strides it took to cover the distance. He placed a kiss on the wet curve of her shoulder and trailed upward until he claimed her moist mouth. The kiss deepened the moment her arms curled about his neck.
She arched toward him, and an animal-like lust overtook him. He ripped his shirt from her, kissing her, tasting the warm nectar of her lips, feeling the heat of her body. He wasn’t thinking, only feeling, and at the moment, she felt like pure paradise. She trembled under his touch, sighed with each kiss. Every drape of his tongue over any part of her body was enough to bring about a breathy moan that turned him on to the nth degree.
When he scooped her into his arms, and carried her to his bed, she held onto him, returning his kiss measure for measure. He mounted her seconds after he gently placed her on his bed; then paused only for a few moments and looked into her eyes, waiting for some sign that this was something she truly wanted. She parted her thighs, welcoming him into her world, then held onto him, urging him to take her. He complied with a single thrust into those delightfully tight walls, which gripped him so hard that his body was ready for an instant release.
Dallas barely held onto his control as he moved within her, wondering how a woman could be so tight, so hot, so wet, so … perfect. He thrust into her with every ounce of power he could muster, then slowed his rhythm and made love to her on that second and third pass, relishing every delicious moment as though it would be his last.
When they were sated and he held her in his arms, he asked that fateful question, “Alicia, will you stay for another day?”
“I can’t,” she replied. “This was … wonderful, even better than I could have ever hoped for. But I have a life. I have plans to travel and see the world.”
“Just one more day, baby,” he said, and that was the beginning of a 91-day mantra. Until the ninety-second day when he presented her with a ring, lowered to one knee and said, “Alicia Mitchell, will you marry me and be the mother of my children?”
When she was too stunned to answer, he felt a slight stab of disappointment and stood.
“Dallas…” she whispered and went to him, burying her head in the wall of his chest as tears streamed down her face.
He thought all she needed was some time to get used to the idea. Only later did he realize that he had forgotten one important part of their process … he didn’t extract his usual promise from her to stay “just one more day” giving them the time to sort things out.
Alicia was gone the next morning and he hadn’t heard a word from or laid eyes on her until fate had landed them in that bedroom on Thanksgiving Day.
Dallas shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. “When you left me, it was never the same,” he said to Alicia. “I’m not going to let that happen again. I don’t even know why you left me before, but—.”
“You asked me to marry you,” she said. “To have your kids.”
He pulled away to look down at her. “And what the hell was wrong with that?”
“Dallas, you were a wonderful fantasy. An unexpected pleasure. That’s all.”
“Well, now you know that we’re more than that. This time, we’re going to work through whatever issues you might have.” He stroked a hand across her face. “You feel me?”
Her eyes searched his for a moment before she said, “Yes.”
With that one word, and her head laid on his chest, Dallas steeled himself against the onslaught of feelings, which were as powerful as a winning half-court shot in the last second of a championship game.
* * *
An hour later, Dallas went up to the loft to give her some time alone. Alicia settled into a bedroom that was the equivalent of three of her master bedrooms put together. The white walls and ceiling, white natural wood
floors, and white bedding was a stark contrast to all the bursts of color throughout the rest of the house.
Dallas’ room was neat, uncluttered, efficient—just like the man himself. But his closet told the true story. She expected wall-to-wall jeans, jerseys and t-shirts; but not only did she find rows of suits, slacks, Polos and dress shirts, but he chose a more classic style, showing a more mature and conservative taste. She checked out the few simple pieces of jewelry laid out on silver trays atop a white wood dresser right next to three Movado watches. Nothing gaudy or showy. Everything classic and classy. The bedroom and his fashion were Dallas through and through. Simple, conservative and everything in its place.
Later that night, when Dallas came to the bedroom to say good night, she said, “You put me here on purpose. The guest bedroom’s right next to Tori’s room.”
“The walls aren’t thin, but you are a screamer, baby,” he teased, kissing her shoulder as he pulled her close to him.
“What?”
Dallas chuckled at her shocked expression. “Dallas,” he taunted in a high-pitched voice, and put a dramatic hand over her heart. “Oh, Dallas. The world rises and sets with your smile, and—”
The pillow hit him square in the face and he playfully toppled to the bed and spread-eagled.
Alicia settled in the space right beside him and he rolled over to face her.
She stroked a hand across his chest. “Dallas, this is more than just about sex for you, right?”
“It has always been about more than that,” he replied, his expression matching his serious tone. “You just didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt.”
She reached up and touched her hand to his cheek. “I’m sorry for leaving you that way, Dallas. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
Dallas nodded, but she could tell from the hard set of his jaw, how much her leaving had hurt.
“You want to put it to the test?” he asked, kissing the back of her hand.
Alicia lifted an eyebrow. “Put what?”
Open Door Marriage Page 12
