Just Say The Word

by Tiffany Patterson

  “Monique, we don’t talk with our mouth full, right?” I lightly scolded, hating the mouthful of rice she’d neglected to swallow before speaking.

  “Sorry, Mom,” she apologized, still without finishing the food she was eating.

  She made a show of bobbing her head as she swallowed—for effect—before opening her mouth again. “They’re better for the environment. Right, Mom?”

  “Monique, it’s not nice to tell people how they should live.”

  “I wasn’t. I—”

  “It’s okay, Nique. I was just telling Josh the other day that we waste a ton of paper towels and napkins.”

  “Right. And they all go straight to the landfill, taking years to decompose, and since—”

  “She gets it, Monique,” I cut her off before she started spouting environmental statistics.

  “Mommy can make you some. She made ours.”

  I raised my eyebrows across the coffee table at Monique who was sitting on the floor. “Thanks for volunteering my services.”

  She shrugged. “I was just saying.”

  “You made your napkins?”

  I glanced over at Kayla. “They’re easy to make. Just purchased some patterned cloth from the fabric store that was on sale and used my sewing machine.”

  “I thought you bought those from some store. I saw one in Monique’s lunch bag.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t like the ones sold at the store, and since they’re napkins and will get all stained I wanted patterned cloth that would help hide the stains over time.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t know the first thing about sewing, but I’ll buy some cloth napkins the next time I go to the store. You’ve convinced me, young lady!” She smiled over at Monique.

  “Yes!” Monique cheered as if she’d scored a winning goal. And for her, it was a win. She loved nature, and saving the environment had turned into a real passion project for her.

  Over the course of dinner Monique offered more tips on how to reduce waste. By the time our meal was finished I was pretty sure she’d have Kayla and Josh signed up for trash pickups, volunteering, and building a compost in their own backyard despite the fact that neither one of them was a gardener of any sort.

  “Thanks for spending the day with me, Nique-Nique,” Kayla stated as we walked to the doorway, preparing to leave. I smiled at the nickname she’d given Monique.

  I’d requested an Uber to pick us up, even though Kayla had offered to give us a ride home.

  “Thanks, Auntie Kayla. Thank Uncle Josh for me, too, please. And tell Diego I said bye.”

  Kayla grinned in my direction. Smiling, I shook my head, remembering how young and innocent she was. If I could, I’d wrap her up in bubble wrap to preserve that innocence.

  “Those jeans look great on you, by the way. I meant to tell you earlier.”

  Kayla’s compliment pulled me from my wandering thoughts.

  I glanced down at the dark denim pants I wore. They were skinny leg and stopped just at the ankle.

  “I would’ve thought it’d be difficult to find petite jeans that fit you just right.”

  “It is,” I confirmed. “I had to dart these at the back, and I cut and altered the length myself. But it was worth the time. I got these for less than twenty dollars.”

  “They look amazing on you. Maybe you should teach a class.” She grabbed my arm, turning me this way and that, looking over the fit of my jeans. With anyone else I would’ve been super self-conscious. My body shape had always been an issue for me. Not only was I short but my top half was small while my bottom was, shall we say, curvaceous. I’d always gravitated toward a more conservative style of dress, and I loved the classic look of turtlenecks, tweed skirts and dresses, button-up blouses with bows, and the like. But I’d learned from my grandmother that fit and material took an okay outfit to amazing. I’d learned to sew as a teenager and it served me well in my early years as a single mother. And while I now took most things to a tailor near my apartment to be hemmed or altered, I occasionally took the time to do it myself … when I had time, of course.

  “Maybe when Monique’s in college and I have more time,” I retorted to Kayla’s comment.

  “I’d be the first to sign up. Oh, your Uber’s here.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw the compact SUV, which the app had told me was coming, pulling up.

  “Thanks again. I owe you dinner.”

  “You owe me squat,” Kayla returned as she pulled me into a hug.

  “Fine. I’ll see you at Pilates on Tuesday?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  She gave Monique a hug and kiss good-bye, and we climbed into the Uber to head home. On the way there I lost myself to thoughts of tall specimens with thick beards and different colored eyes.

  Chapter Three

  Damon

  “We’re working on a huge project. The Williamsport Bridge is in need of a great deal of work. The last thing this city, or country for that matter, invests in is its infrastructure. Which is crazy and makes absolutely no sense.”

  I kept my face placid as to not alert my date to the fact that I gave absolutely no damns about what she was saying. Scarlet was a civil engineer and never failed to drop that tidbit of information into any conversation she was a part of. Sure, she had every right to be proud of her accomplishments. Lord only knew how difficult it was being one of a few women, let alone black women, in her field. However, what I didn’t feel like doing was smiling and nodding as she talked about the Williamsport Bridge and all of its structural integrity issues when all I really wanted from her was a few great orgasms. On that account, Scarlet delivered.

  “Tell me about the next project you’re working on. It’s an apartment complex, right?”

  I lifted the glass of bourbon, which I’d been nursing throughout dinner, to my lips. By choice, I wasn’t a heavy drinker. I never liked the out of control feeling being intoxicated filled me with. I could count on one hand the amount of times I’d been drunk or high off of weed. And I’d still have fingers left to form a handmade pistol and aim it at someone’s head. I’d seen too many people taken out by their own addictions to let any drug become mine.

  “Yeah, we’re working to purchase the abandoned Lakefront building to fit about sixty condos on the top ten floors and businesses on the bottom floor.”

  “That’s a lot. Are you sure you have the right engineers working on the job?”

  I squinted at the woman across the table from me as I lowered my glass.

  “You don’t think I know what I’m doing?”

  A coquettish smile broke free on her wine-colored lips, showing off her brightly whitened teeth. The color was a sharp contrast to her dark brown skin tone. A move that had me licking my own lips.

  She leaned forward, allowing the low cut, sparkling red dress she wore to show off her considerable amount of cleavage.

  “Of course you know what you’re doing. I just thought you might want some recommendations. I know some great engineers in the area.” Her voice had taken on a sultry note. One that my body wasn’t immune to. Granted, it wasn’t quite the same response I’d had a few days earlier in my car while driving Sandra to work.

  Wait.

  Where the hell had my head just gone?

  I was in front of a beautiful woman who was making it obvious that she was down for whatever once the check was paid for, and here I was thinking about a woman who was Scarlet’s total opposite. Where Scarlet was long and lean, Sandra and petite and thicker, particularly her bottom half. While Scarlet’s skin could be described almost as midnight in tone thanks to her Sudanese heritage, Sandra’s skin mirrored that of a shiny penny with huge, maple syrup colored eyes that held so much emotion they practically spoke for themselves. And where Scarlet knew who she was and what she wanted, Sandra could best be described as … skittish.

  “I don’t need any recs. My team is solid,” I replied to Scarlet, pushing thoughts of Sandra out of my head.

&nb
sp; “There is something else you could help me with, though.” I lifted and motioned with my hand for the waiter to bring our check. I wasn’t the usual type to eat at the French restaurant we were at but Scarlet had requested we come.

  “And what’s that?” Her voice dropped noticeably and her dark brown eyes were transfixed at my center as I rose from my seat.

  “You already know what it is,” I responded, holding my hand out to help her stand.

  No more words were needed. Once the waiter brought my card back, I returned it to my wallet, placed my wallet in my pocket, and wrapped my arm around Scarlet’s waist, leading us out of the restaurant.

  ****

  That wasn’t it.

  My mind screamed those three words at me as I laid next to a lightly snoring Scarlet, covered by her silk bed sheets. Spending the last few hours with Scarlet’s long legs wrapped around my waist and more than one orgasm hadn’t quelled the agitation that seemed to have lived with me over the past few days.

  I briefly thought of waking Scarlet for another go-round but quickly killed that idea. Fucking wasn’t going to extinguish whatever this was, so it was on to the next best thing. I sat up, grabbed my boxer briefs from the floor, and stood to step into them.

  “Where’re you going?”

  I looked over my shoulder at a groggy Scarlet before turning and pulling my pants from the rocking chair in the corner of her room.

  “I’ve got some business to handle.”

  “Business at …” she leaned her head over looking at the clock on her nightstand, “one twenty-three in the morning?”

  I paused, staring at her before going back to buttoning the shirt I’d worn on our date. “I said what I said.” Scarlet wasn’t my girlfriend. She knew this. I knew this.

  To prove she knew this, her lips twisted into a dissatisfied frown but she didn’t press me any longer.

  “I’ll give you a call,” I stated as I leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. I wasn’t a whole asshole. But without a backwards glance, I moved over the threshold of her bedroom, checking my pockets and making sure I had my keys and wallet before heading down the spiral staircase. I briefly admired the high ceilings of Scarlet’s loft style apartment. I made a mental note to have my team research this neighborhood.

  In less than two minutes I was out the door and reached my car in five minutes. Within sixty seconds I turned and aimed my vehicle for the highway that would carry me to my destination.

  ****

  “You hit like a pussy!” I taunted the guy circling me, the same as I was doing to him.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Tough talk gets you knocked on your ass,” I warned just before I ducked and moved in, quickly sending a hook and then an elbow to his ribcage.

  “Unf!” he pushed out, breathing heavily.

  I pondered whether or not to taunt him some more or to just do a takedown and end this bout quickly. Around me I could hear the rumblings and cheers of the spectators egging either one of us on. This was what I needed. A good energy pumping, blood flowing, and possibly bone crushing fight in the ring, with the Underground—a secretive fighting club I’d been a part of for a number of years.

  “What the hell is taking you so long? Getting slow in your old age?”

  I grunted at the sound of Joshua’s voice. I briefly thought about hanging around for the next fight just to enter it with him to shut his ass up. Best friend or not, he could get this work, too.

  Suddenly, the dude in the ring with me, James, I think was his name, lunged at me. I hastily sidestepped his assault and aimed another hook, this time with my right hand, at his other ribcage. He stumbled, falling to his knees. Though, ordinarily I would’ve waited for him to get back up in order to defend himself, I was over this fight. I’d clearly won. So, instead, I grabbed his right arm, wrapping it behind him, and gripped the back of his neck with my free hand, forcing him face down into the mat, pinning him there with my knee at the center of his back.

  “Enough! Enough!”

  I felt the tap on my shoulder from the guy refereeing and released James, letting him up.

  “Nice fight,” he stated, holding out his fist.

  I nodded and we bumped fists, a sign of our mutual respect. Down here things got gritty and raw but it was all respect. At least, most of the time.

  “You looked a little tense out there.”

  I ducked underneath the ropes of the boxing square and hopped down before shifting my gaze to the right, glancing at a smirking Joshua.

  “No more tense than your wife’s gonna be when she curses you out for being down here,” I quipped.

  Joshua’s green eyes narrowed, his face darkening.

  I chuckled. The man didn’t play about his wife.

  “Don’t mention my fucking wife.”

  I chuckled some more.

  “Wanna try to beat my ass?” I challenged.

  “I just might. Besides, she’s staying at her parents’ tonight. Her mom had surgery. Outpatient, but Kay wanted to stay with her tonight to make sure everything’s okay.”

  My head shot back, surprised. “You let her out of your sight for a whole night? Good for you.”

  “Fuck no. I’ll be picking her up once I leave here. She’s not staying out of my bed for a whole night.”

  Shaking my head, I wiped my face and neck with the small white towel he tossed me. I followed him as he made his way toward the changing room behind the wooden door at the far end of the room. The building we were in looked like an abandoned building from the outside. We held our fights on the basement level, to not garner much attention with the lights. But the building had fully equipped electrical and plumping, which allowed everyone who was invited to partake in our fights to shower and change back into their normal, regular selves once they left. Each and every one of us were professionals and businessmen in our own right. The building was jointly owned by Joshua and Connor O’Brien, a former pro-fighter.

  “You’re crazy,” I chuckled, shaking my head at Joshua’s antics regarding his wife. Few people knew the lengths he’d gone to protect that woman. Though, I have to say, had my wife or someone I loved endured what Kayla had, at the hands of someone meant to protect and serve, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the exact same thing.

  Hell, I was no stranger when it came to getting revenge for harms perpetrated against someone you love.

  “It runs in the family.” Josh shrugged. “Speaking of …”

  Here we fucking go.

  I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

  “Don’t fucking ask.”

  “Shit, man, I can’t even ask you about your—”

  “My what?” I questioned sharply, tossing the used towel in the laundry bin at the corner of the room. Only Joshua Townsend would have a laundry bin in such a dingy ass place. The laundry was actually cleaned professionally.

  “Your woman,” he answered boldly, knowing it would piss me off.

  “I don’t have a woman.” I had ladies who I entertained. Some I kept around more than others. But a woman? Hell no.

  “Don’t give me that shit, Damon. You and I both know you’re into Sandra.”

  “Into Sandra? What the fuck does that even mean?” I shook my head.

  “You know what the hell it means. You like her, want to do some very unsavory things to—”

  “Watch your mouth,” I warned, my voice dropping to an almost menacing tone.

  And fucking Joshua ate that shit up. His eyes glinted and he gave me a dumb ass smirk as if he’d called it right.

  “Defensive, huh? Weren’t you just getting on me for being protective over my wife?”

  Shit.

  He had a point. Sandra was far from my wife. She wasn’t even my type. I liked women who were bosses. Who could walk into a room—any room—and own it. The type of woman with not just the education and credentials under their belt but the savvy, skill, and know-how to back those credentials up, in and out of the boardroom. Sandra wa
sn’t that. She was wholesome.

  Why that thought had my heartbeat picking up speed, I had no fucking clue, but I didn’t like it. I’d long since surmised the underlying agitation I’d been feeling for days—the very angst that’d sent me into the ring just now—had nothing to do with work and everything to do with her.

  “She’s not my fucking wife,” I stated like a damn chump.

  “Not yet. You buy her a new car yet?”

  “What?” I yelled.

  Josh lifted his eyebrows almost innocently. “I was just asking. You had it towed, insisted on taking it to the best shop in the city, and insisted on paying for it yourself. We both know her car has kicked the bucket. That thing’s better off in a junkyard than on the road. I’m wondering when you’re taking her car shopping is all?”

  “Mind your goddamn business,” I grunted before grabbing another larger towel and strolling back toward the showers. Joshua’s laughter echoed off the ceramic walls and concrete floors as I moved through the doors that led to the shower.

  Jackass.

  What pissed me off the most was that Joshua was right. He knew it and I knew it. Sandra had been on my mind. And if I’m being really honest, she had been on my mind since his wedding, six months earlier. My driving her to work a week ago and paying for her car to get towed was more than me just being friendly. However, I’d done my best to stay away from her. Something in her eyes called to me, as if she was in need. I had more than enough needy women in my life. I wasn’t going there with her.

  Chapter Four

  Damon

  I brought the cup of coffee I was drinking to my lips as I let my eyes narrow on the building diagonal from my office’s window. I’d chosen the particular office space for a specific reason. From the window I had a perfect view of the tall, brick building a few blocks away. More importantly, I had a view of the twentieth floor, including most of the comings and goings. The man who rented that particular space was so damn cocky he didn’t bother using privacy window glass.

  I snorted as my right hand twisted into a fist in the pocket of my pants.

  “If you wanted an office in that building, you should’ve put in an offer when you first looked at it.”