by Dyanne Davis
Janice heard her name called and walked out onto the stage, pasting her fake smile on her lips and waving at the audience. She stopped when she glanced at the couch and saw none other than the man whom she’d been thinking of, Tommy Strong.
She stared for half a second, then sat in the seat that was offered to her. She felt Tommy’s icy glare freeze her in place and she shivered.
What the hell did he have to be so hostile about? It was he who’d hurt her, he who’d not been able to withstand the first test that was given to them. It was he who in the end hadn’t loved her enough and it was his disdain that had turned her blood into ice.
“We thought it would be nice if Mr. Strong stayed on the show to meet with you after receiving the million dollars to help African American bookstores that your fiancé gave him. He said he didn’t get a chance to tell you how much this means to him.”
For sure blood was going to pour from her ears. Janice couldn’t even tell who was talking. All she saw was Tommy. She wanted to bolt and run.
She wondered if Simon had arranged this. But he’d promised. Then again, it was he who’d arranged for her to be on the show. Her thoughts were running rampant. She sat like a statue as Tommy reached out and grabbed her hand, and acted as though he were shaking it, holding it a moment longer than was decent, stroking her skin where no one could see. But she knew he was aware of the effect he’d had on her. She watched as the smirk spread across his face.
“I was wondering if I could impose on you and ask for your personal help with the African American bookstores,” Tommy said, his voice as smooth and sweet as hot caramel over vanilla ice cream. He showed his teeth as he smiled. Janice couldn’t help staring at him. His beautiful pearl white teeth gleamed, and he had the women on the show and the entire audience eating out of the palm of his hand. How could she possibly say no?
“Of course, whatever you need me to do,” she found herself answering. She caught the flash of anger that passed over his face and trembled in spite of the warmth from the lights overhead. “I could send a box of autographed books, what ever you want.”
“I want you to work closely with me, go into the stores, drum up business. We could use someone like you for the cause. You know you’re African American, right?” he asked, as though making a joke. Janice was the only person beside himself who was aware that he meant every word.
She smiled coyly and held her arms up for him to examine. “Guilty as charged,” she said, pouring sweetness into every tart word.
“What you write now, was this always the way that you planned to go with your career? I mean, did you ever consider doing anything else?” Tommy asked.
She glanced around at the other women and saw they were aware of something, yet didn’t know what. They were hungry for blood, something to discuss on the next show, and she wasn’t about to appease their appetite. She could handle herself; she’d been trained by the best.
“I’m sure every young person has dreams that they later realize were either foolish or just that, dreams. I am doing what makes me happy. I write and I tell a story.”
“Is there ever any truth to your stories? I mean, has real life ever come into play?”
This time she held his gaze, refusing to back down. “It appears what you’re looking for is a private interview. I think maybe the ladies would like to ask me some questions.”
There, she thought. She’d put him in his place. Janice turned her head toward the women, determined not to send out any signals.
“So are you saying that you’re definitely going to help me?” Tommy ignored her request and her turned head and waited. The four women of Déjà Vu waited also.
“Of course, Mr. Strong, I’ll do whatever I can to help the community.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, “because up until now your presence in the community had been limited to just your books. I’m sure everyone will be happy to know you haven’t forgotten your roots, that you’re going to work closely with me to see that the community recognizes you as one of its own.”
She narrowed her eyes and not even when the hostess decided to take control back did she stop glaring at Tommy. He’d put her on the spot, just as he’d intended and at the moment she didn’t know who she wanted to strangle first: Tommy for his undignified public attack or the women for losing control of the show to him.
Janice couldn’t believe what was happening. She’d watched the show many times. It was unbelievable that those four women weren’t peppering her with questions. What was up with them? Why had they allowed Tommy to take over their show? She glanced at Tommy, then at each woman in turn before bringing her gaze back to Tommy. It was obvious he’d made a deal with the women. She should have known.
Just because he was a gorgeous hunk of man with enough charm to get the panties off the most devout virgin with but a glance was not a reason for the women to go cuckoo.
She glared once more at Tommy, and then looked at the women. They weren’t responsible for their attraction to Tommy; she shouldn’t blame them. A whispered word or two and the most stubborn woman would change her tune, just as she had. But no more. Tommy Strong didn’t deserve her lust and he definitely didn’t deserve her ever thinking of loving him again.
When she thought she was safe and could leave the set, Tommy interrupted again, forcing her to give him her card on the air, forcing her to agree to a lunch with him the next day.
When she walked out, to her surprise Simon was waiting for her. She looked guiltily at him, feeling her cheeks warm with shame. She’d done nothing wrong, but still she felt the remorse. Janice unconsciously rubbed her palm down the side of her body. It still burned where Tommy had given her his secret caress, his signal to her when they were young that he wanted her, wanted to make love to her. She attempted to smile at Simon but saw confusion and pain cloud his eyes.
“Come on,” she told him. “We don’t have time to waste.”
“You don’t think I set that up, do you?”
“No, I don’t.” And she didn’t think it.
“You don’t have to go through with it, you don’t have to help him. You can do a couple of bookstores. I’ll come with you, that should be enough.”
“No, it won’t be enough, Simon. Did you hear him? He accused me of abandoning my roots, of not being black.”
“I didn’t hear him say that.”
“That’s because you didn’t know what to listen for. I heard him. He issued a challenge. I have to follow through with it.” She walked out the door, leaving Simon behind.
Have to or want to? he thought. And for the third time Simon wondered at the bad move he’d made. There was unfinished business between Janice and her ex. Should he allow it to play out or put a stop to it now before it got out of hand? Before…He hesitated, not wanting to even think it. Maybe he should stop it before she either realized she still loved the man or fell in love with him all over again.
* * *
Tommy watched Mary Jo leave with one of the world’s most powerful men and for a moment he hated both of them. For twelve years he’d held firm to his hatred of her. She’d broken his heart, taken his love and stomped it as though it had meant nothing to her.
She’d not given him a chance to become a man. Sure, he’d run when she first told him she was pregnant. He’d been scared shitless, eighteen years old. How the hell was he going to take care of her and a baby? It was going to ruin everything—their college plans, their dreams of starting a powerful group dedicated to black love and black achievement.
They had plotted and planned to be what the Black Panthers had started out to be. Only their weapon would be knowledge. They would start schools across the country to teach the community all the contributions made by African Americans.
Tommy pulled his cell phone from his pocket, wondering how many people, black, white or brown, knew that it was an African American man, Henry Sampson, that many claimed invented the cell phone. Of course, there were differing reports that said Sampso
n didn’t invent the phone, that he had invented the gamma-electrical-cell, not the phone.
Tommy didn’t care. The man could have probably invented it if he wanted to, so Tommy gave him the credit each time he made a call.
He dialed the number, thinking of Mary Jo, of what they had planned. She’d abandoned that just as she’d abandoned him and she’d taken on the persona of the white world and wore it like a glove. He didn’t believe one thing black remained in her. This woman who’d taken her place he didn’t even like.
He thought about what she’d done. She’d aborted his child without giving him a chance to tell her he was sorry, that he’d realized that they could do anything together. Then she’d delivered the devil’s blow. She’d told him that the baby might not have even been his.
Tommy had felt in his heart she was lying but it had hurt all the same and he’d been moments from slapping her. He still remembered how she’d jutted out her chin and told him defiantly that if he hit her, she’d cut his balls off. It hadn’t been her threat that had made him pull back but the knowledge that he had wanted to hit her.
He’d never ever hit a woman in his life. He detested men that did, and since that day he’d never had that overwhelming anger come over him again. He knew it was due in part to the fact that he’d never allowed himself to love anyone as much as he’d loved Mary Jo.
Tommy didn’t deny that she had a right to be hurt. That much he acknowledged, but the thought that she could pull an emotional response from him toward violence frightened him. He could still picture her the day she’d ended it.
“I think this is over, Tommy. We’re not children any longer. You go your way and I’ll go mine.”
And just like that she’d walked out of his life. She didn’t cry or behave as if she hadn’t meant it and she hadn’t answered any of his calls or letters. She’d cut him off and had forgotten him as she’d done his child, and he’d hated her every day after.
Sure, he’d made a mistake, but he’d apologized. Their ending was her doing and it rested squarely on her shoulders. He doubted if he lived for a thousand years if he would ever forgive her for the way she’d left.
Chapter Six
Simon sat in the limo for the rest of Janice’s quick stops. Every time she returned to the car he noticed she was more agitated. “You okay?” he asked finally. “You’re looking worn out.”
“I am a bit.”
She tried smiling and he noticed it was forced. “Maybe we should get some lunch, or if you want, I can cancel the rest of your interviews.”
“No, don’t.”
Janice answered too quickly, he thought. She was trying to put off spending time alone with him. He didn’t like it. He wanted to ask her a thousand questions but he didn’t want the answers.
“You’re not hungry?”
“No,” she answered, again quickly.
He looked at her and thought that probably wasn’t a lie. She looked as if she would heave if she took even a bite of food.
“Are the shows making you nervous?” he asked, hoping she’d level with him, tell him without him probing that seeing Tommy Strong was more than she could handle.
“I don’t know if I can go through with it,” she said quietly.
“Go through with what?”
“I don’t know that I want to work that closely with Tommy.” She smiled. “Now you know. This is what you paid a million dollars to learn. Was it worth it?”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Janice.”
“You sure as hell weren’t trying to help me.”
“I just wanted to know what you were hiding from me.”
“I’ve always been honest with you. I have never lied to you.”
“Maybe not, but I knew you were keeping things from me. We’re getting married, it shouldn’t be that way. You forced me to find out for myself.”
“I didn’t think my past was your business. I still don’t.”
Simon stared at her, his gray gaze thoughtful. And again she saw the flicker of pain and remembered her own pain. She didn’t want to hurt Simon. Given that he’d gone to the trouble of digging around in her past and finding Tommy, it was also evident that her source had told Simon how much she’d loved Tommy. She studied him for a moment, knowing he had a right to be concerned. She didn’t want her past relationship with Tommy to be a cause of concern. They’d been over long ago.
“What do you want to know about Tommy?” she asked finally.
“Tell me what he meant to you. Tell me if you still care. Tell me who ended it.”
Janice sucked in her breath. She didn’t want to talk about Tommy Strong, not now, not ever, but Simon deserved an answer to his questions. Besides, if she didn’t answer them he would probably keep digging even further.
“At one time Tommy was my world,” she whispered. “No, I don’t still care about him and in answer to your last question, he ended it. He left me without a word. I felt abandoned. I needed him and he wasn’t there for me.” In a way it was true. Tommy’s leaving town and abandoning her was what had ended it for them.
Simon looked hard at her. “Why was that so hard for you to tell me?”
She shrugged, thinking maybe it was time to say out loud what had happened, to tell the man she was going to marry why she’d reacted so violently to Tommy. Still, it was hard. She had no wish for anyone to know of her weakness, either past or present.
“It hurt.” She began. “I was a fool and I didn’t relish reliving it. I had promised myself that I would never tell anyone, ever.”
“So why did you tell me?”
“I’m not sure.” I wish I could tell you all of it, she thought. But she couldn’t. She only felt safe enough to go so far. The rest would have to wait. Maybe forever.
Simon was staring at her so she closed her eyes, wishing that she could feel safe enough to tell Simon that he was the only one she wanted to share her past or future with. Wishing as she took a deep breath and shuddered that she didn’t truly believe Simon would stop loving her the moment she admitted her feelings for him. It wasn’t Simon’s fault that Tommy had taught her not to trust a man who claimed in either words or deeds to love her.
* * *
Simon didn’t know what to make of it. He watched her while her eyes were closed, deciding not to question her. She’d told him more than she ever had. He’d let it go for now. Still, the pain in her voice was fresh and he knew it had something to do with her seeing Tommy Strong again.
Damn. He cursed under his breath, wishing he’d never dug into her past. As he’d originally thought, there was unfinished business between Janice and Tommy Strong. Simon could only hope that when it was over, he would be the one she ended up with. He leaned his head into her, stroked her left cheek with his hand and prayed like hell that the knot in his gut would go away.
* * *
Acute awareness snaked through Tommy’s body. For the past twelve years he’d thought of women as treacherous, conniving skanks, something he’d never wanted to do. All his childhood dreams had focused on elevating the African American woman to her rightful status as queen. He was still able to talk the game but he couldn’t walk the walk.
He’d never fooled himself about the reason. He’d always known it was because of Mary Jo Adams. She’d hurt him and because of that hurt Tommy was distrustful of women and their words of love. When she’d abandoned him she’d also abandoned all of the plans that they’d had to bring pride into the black community. Mary Jo had taken it a step further by portraying her black male characters in a stereotypical negative way.
He’d watched her career for the last seven years. He’d read every word she’d ever written, something in him hoping that he’d see something of the girl he’d loved. But he hadn’t. Instead of doing something that the black community could be proud of, she’d sold out completely. If she just happened to include black male characters in her books, they were drug dealers, gang bangers and thugs, cons or other negative characters. But the one portraya
l that hurt the most was that the black man didn’t give a damn about his babies. That he knew was a direct slam on him and it was a lie.
When he saw her on the news, she was always on the arm on any man who wasn’t black. Her nose was so far up in the air that if it rained when she was out, he knew she would be in danger of drowning.
He hated knowing that four years of his life had been wasted sharing his dreams and love with a woman who’d wanted neither. Seeing her finally face to face, he wanted answers. He wanted her to tell him if everything had been a lie. He no longer cared that she’d not wanted him; he just wanted to know if anything about her had been real. So far, he didn’t think so.
He hated that seeing Janice made him remember the sweetness of her body. They had both been virgins when they first made love and it had taken them awhile to get the rhythm, but after they had, it was as though God had made them for each other.
In her arms he’d gone from being a boy to a man. And in the years since he’d seen her, he’d searched fruitlessly for that same sweetness. Apparently she’d not had the same problem.
Tommy couldn’t believe she was really going to marry Simon Kohl. He wondered if she knew that the man had tried to buy him off. Tommy still wasn’t sure what he’d expected. He just knew in his gut the man wanted to buy something Tommy wasn’t willing to sell.
Well, with any luck he should get some of his answers. He’d put Mary Jo on the spot. She had no choice but to work with him. If there was one black cell left in her body, he was determined to find it. It might be too late for the two of them to work together to bring enlightenment or to revive the Panthers, but it sure as hell wasn’t too late to change her back.
He shivered, wondering why it was important to him to have Mary Jo change back to what he’d thought she was. Then he knew. He didn’t want it all to have been a lie. He had loved her. Even when he’d failed her, he’d loved her. She should have waited for him. She should have known he’d return and for that he didn’t believe he could ever forgive her or forget her.
