Jeremy first instinct was to say no, but then he remembered that brief incident in his office last night. Hadn’t it seemed like Quentin was arguing with someone who wasn’t there?
“Thanks for bringing it to my attention. I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Delilah’s shoulders relaxed with relief. She had clearly been nervous about approaching him with this. “Thanks. And I’m really sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but we felt that we needed to say something.”
“Don’t worry. You did the right thing,” he assured her with a quick smile.
He turned and headed out of the club. After more than a year of playing Pass the Cousin, Jeremy decided that it was time to change course. Sliding in behind the wheel of his Porsche, he scooped his cell out of his pocket and made one more call. “Hello, Quentin?”
Chapter 23
I’m not going to call. I’m not going to call.
Leigh kept her eyes closed standing under the hot shower while she repeated the mantra. She had hoped that the more she said the words, the more it would strengthen her resolve. So far, it wasn’t working. It probably had a lot to do with the sound of Jeremy’s voice on her answering machine. Sure. He sounded all humble and contrite now. But that probably had a lot more to do with him finding out that she was pregnant than anything else—and she was nearly a hundred percent certain that he knew.
Last night, she was the crazy gold-digging ho. Today, what—he found out that she was possibly having his child and wanted to change up? Please.
Leigh ground her teeth. What had she ever seen in him before—other than the obvious? Sure, he was handsome, charming and successful—but so was DeShawn. In fact, those two being best friends had to be another red flag. What did they say, “birds of a feather flock together”?
If DeShawn was a dog, then certainly his best friend, Jeremy, was too.
I’m not going to call. I’m not going to call.
He called to apologize for his appalling behavior. Humph. Guess now I’m supposed to just forget everything he said last night so he can clear his conscience, she thought. Leigh shook her head and tried to strengthen her resolve.
I’m not going to call. I’m not going to call.
By the time Leigh stepped out of the shower, her mantra was still holding fast. That is until she hit Play on the answering machine again and again. Jeremy’s sexy baritone embraced her. It was difficult for her to ignore that she had more than a few heartstrings tugging at her.
Surprisingly, there was still a little part of her that wanted to forgive Jeremy for his explosive reaction last night. After all, every time she took a moment to try and see things his way, there was an argument to be made that he could’ve felt duped in this whole scenario, especially if he hadn’t known that she and DeShawn had broken up during the time they met. Maybe DeShawn doesn’t tell his boy everything. In that case, she might have looked a little…sorta, kinda loose. And maybe the idea that she was stepping out on his best friend and had intentionally entangled him in a web that could potentially destroy their friendship, then maybe, just maybe, he did have the right to be angry.
That still did not make it okay to call her a crazy gold-digging ho.
Of course, there was also that scene in the back office of The Dollhouse. She flushed. But he knew she was engaged, too. Was it okay for him to make a move on another man’s woman as long as it wasn’t someone he knew?
He had some nerve. For the past couple of months, she had been fantasizing about this man, and now she could hardly stand the thought of him.
That’s not true.
It wasn’t true now. But if she said it enough times, it might become true.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
Despite her constant rehashing of the events in recent weeks, and admitting that from Jeremy’s perspective there was a slight chance that she looked like she was playing his best friend, Leigh still felt that he should have given her a chance to explain herself.
But no.
Instead, he dragged her out of her engagement party and threatened to expose her infidelity in a claustrophobic walk-in freezer.
But he did call to apologize.
And there she was—having come full circle—still not knowing whether she was going to accept his apology or not.
I’m not going to call him. I’m not going to call him.
An hour later, Leigh strolled into Dr. Norman’s office with her stomach twisted in knots. Her mother pulled a few strings to get her the appointment on such short notice so that they could confirm what several home pregnancy tests had already told her.
After signing in, she and her mother found two seats in the waiting room and began the doctor’s office ritual of scanning ages-old magazines, while waiting for her name to be called.
“In other news,” the entertainment reporter said, from the mounted flat-screen television in the corner, “NBA star DeShawn Carter is officially off the market. In a statement released by his publicist, the star basketball player has recently tied the knot with his longtime gal pal, and exotic dancer, Sydney Russell, a.k.a. Caramel Swirl. The statement also states that the couple is expecting their second child later this year.”
Sheree gasped, while Leigh stared at the screen. There was something wrong with her hearing. The reporter couldn’t have possibly said what Leigh thought she’d said.
The reporter’s handsome co-anchor turned his head and asked, “DeShawn Carter and Caramel Swirl? I thought he was engaged to another woman, an L.A. screenwriter?”
The reporters smiled benignly. “Who can keep up with celebrity couplings these days?” She turned back toward the camera. “On to the Middle East…”
After a few seconds, Sheree turned toward her daughter. “Who on earth is Caramel Swirl?”
Leigh shook her head. She knew the name well. It was the same woman who had always come between her and DeShawn. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. Let’s just hope he’s happy.” Bastard.
“Married? What do you mean he’s married?” Jeremy asked Quentin, who sat across from him at the Breakfast Café. This wasn’t the reason he asked his cousin to join him for breakfast. But after Q dropped the latest bombshell, he was rendered speechless.
“It says so right here,” Quentin said, flipping over a thin newspaper and shoving it toward Jeremy. “I heard it on the radio on the way over here. Couldn’t believe it until I bought the paper right outside, and bam! There you go—your man cheesing in the gossip section. Recognize the chick under his arm?”
Jeremy leaned in and blinked. “Is that—?”
“Caramel Swirl,” Q said, shaking his head. “You know, it’s about time I rolled my butt up out of this city. All this woman-sharing is starting to creep me out—and that’s saying something.”
Jeremy couldn’t stop shaking his head. “Roy referred her to me, but he never said anything about them being in any relationship. And…a second kid? What the hell?”
“Seems your boy has a hell of a lot of secrets.”
“Yeah, but this—this is something else altogether. And last night he seemed so crushed about Leigh not being pregnant with his baby.”
“I don’t know. I guess I can see where he’s coming from.”
Jeremy glanced up. “You can?”
“Yeah. I mean, he kept the good girl on his arm and the freaks on the side. But if the good girl can flip the script on you like that, then why not just marry your freak and save yourself the trouble? Plus, he was awfully concerned about being a laughingstock last night. Maybe he just didn’t want the sun to rise today, and the grapevine be all about him getting played on the night of his engagement party. This way, it looks like Leigh was the one that got dumped. Brilliant playa move— I’m impressed.”
“What—is there some playa handbook out there I don’t know about? How come you know all these supposed moves?”
“Nah. Nah. Nobody is crazy enough to write this stuff down. You do, and the whole system collapses. Women get hold o
f something like that and it’s a wrap.” Q trembled at the thought.
Jeremy’s gaze returned to the article. When he was through reading, he read it again. Despite all Q said, he still had a hard time wrapping his head around why Roy would make such an impulsive move.
“C’mon. Stranger things have been known to happen, especially in L.A.”
Jeremy tossed the article down and slumped back in the booth. “This is probably going to crush Leigh.” He tried to imagine her reaction to all of this.
“Or not,” Q said, signaling for the waitress. “Do you think that she’s still in love with him?”
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. He was forced to admit, “I honestly have no clue. It’s not like we’ve ever had the chance to talk about it.”
“Yeah, you two have that whole cart before the horse thing going on.”
Jeremy nodded. “Maybe. But right now, I’d be happy if she just called me back.” He scooped out his BlackBerry to see whether he’d somehow missed a call.
Q chuckled. “Maybe you should swing by one of those sports stores and see about picking yourself up some knee pads. If you’re seriously going to pursue this, then you’re going to be groveling for a minute. You might as well make yourself comfortable.”
Sighing, Jeremy nodded again. “Yeah, I’ve been having that same feeling myself.” He reached for his coffee. At least now, he knew why Roy hadn’t returned any of his calls. He was on his honeymoon.
Married…with kids.
“Heeeeey, Jeremy. Long time no see.”
He glanced up and smiled. “Hey, Ella. What’s the day’s special?”
Ella smiled and twirled her hips as she recited the breakfast specials.
Jeremy listened, but they both knew what he was going to order. “I’ll have my usual.”
“Your order is already in.” She winked, letting him know just how well she knew his routine. She then turned her attention to Quentin, and gave him the same flirtatious smile.
Q winked. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
“You got it.” Ella winked back before pivoting and strolling back toward the kitchen with an extra oomph to her walk.
“All right. Now that I’ve dropped my little bombshell on you this morning, pray tell, what the hell am I even doing up at this ungodly hour?”
Jeremy sighed. He really didn’t want to have this discussion.
“You do remember calling me and telling me that you needed to talk, don’t you? You’re a little too young to be having memory problems.”
“Yeah, I want to talk to you about something that has been brought to my attention.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I talked to Delilah this morning and she brought up some concerns that she and some of the other employees were having about you.”
“Me?”
“Your health.”
Quentin laughed. “What? I’m fine. I’m the very picture of good health—mainly because of my mother’s genes.”
Jeremy smiled. “Yeah, well, it’s more about your mental health.”
Q’s brows arched up as his tone dropped a notch. “Oh?”
“I have to admit that I’ve been a little concerned, as well.” He paused, but Q remained silent. “Have you been feeling okay? How’s your stress level?”
“Stress?” Quentin found his humor again. “Stress and overexertion are two things I try to avoid at all cost.”
Jeremy studied his cousin. But since he wasn’t a doctor, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “Last night. You were sort of talking to yourself—more like arguing.”
“Oh—that?”
“Yeah—that.”
Quentin waved him off with an awkward laugh. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“But you are aware that you do talk to yourself?”
“And you don’t?” Q spun the question back on him. “Everyone talks to themselves from time to time. It’s no big deal.”
That was true, but there was still something a little off about it.
“So that’s it?” Q said. “I dragged myself out of bed because I had a debate with myself over whether to have a drink or not?”
“And the concerns of the employees.” Jeremy sucked in a breath and tried again. “Look, man. Maybe you should just go talk to someone. Get a lot of that stuff that you’re carrying around off your chest.”
“What? You mean like a therapist or something?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not crazy,” Quentin snapped.
Jeremy held up his hands, surrendering. He’d stated his case. That’s all he could do.
Ella arrived with their food and Quentin’s tense features softened. He went back to flashing his deadly dimples at the waitress.
“You boys enjoy your meals,” she said, winking.
“Absolutely,” Quentin said and then watched the sway of her hips as she strolled off. He started to turn his attention back to Jeremy, when someone coming into the café caught his eye. “Yo, cuz. Isn’t that your future baby momma over there?”
Chapter 24
I’m going to be a mom.
That news trumped the news of DeShawn running off to Vegas to marry an exotic dancer. From what she understood, that sort of thing happened all the time. Her mother, however, was having a harder time with it, and judging by the number of times Ariel was calling her cell phone, she was, too. However, for Leigh, DeShawn’s elopement had a more liberating effect. The guilt she woke up with that morning was gone. And the confirmation she’d received at the doctor’s office literally had her floating on air.
A mom.
This was definitely one of those times when she didn’t know how much she’d wanted something until it was right there, staring her in the face. Perhaps the circumstances weren’t ideal, but her joy triumphed over everything else. She was nowhere near showing, and yet she couldn’t stop touching her belly and smiling.
I’m going to be a mom.
“Hello, Leigh.”
Leigh jerked her head up at the unexpected, but still very sexy and familiar baritone. Annnnnnd here’s the father. She sucked in a deep breath and tried her best to level him with an annoyed glare. “Hello.”
He amped up his smile, and then turned it on her unsuspecting mother. “Hello. Jeremy King. I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to meet.”
Sheree’s eyes sprung wide with shock. “Oh, you’re Jeremy King.” She slowly slipped her hand into his, as if she was in some sort of trance. “I’m Sheree Matthews, Leigh’s mother.”
“Nice to meet you.” He tried to release her hand, but it was her mother who hung on. “My, what large hands you have.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Huh…um.” She cocked her head and assessed the shoulder, chest and waist.
If Leigh hadn’t gently kicked her under the table, she was fairly certain that she was about to tell him to turn around so that she could check out the rear view. “Mom,” she hissed.
“Hmm, what?” Sheree dragged her eyes away from Jeremy’s chiseled frame to meet her daughter’s hard stare. “Oh. Right.” She released Jeremy’s hand and proudly…and inappropriately announced, “We’re mad at you.”
Leigh closed her eyes and tried to count to ten—she made it to three. “Is there something that I can help you with, Mr. King?”
“Actually, yes. I was hoping that we could have a few minutes alone so that we can talk.” His smile turned apologetic toward her mother.
“We don’t have anything to talk about,” Leigh stated flatly.
“Leigh,” her mother hissed, before her foot nearly took her daughter’s shin out under the table.
“Ow!” Leigh said, glaring back at her mother.
Sheree Matthews flashed her daughter a flat, tight smile before picking up her purse and sliding out of the booth.
Leigh panicked. “Where are you going?”
“Just to the bathroom,” she responded in an overly saccharine tone. “I’ll
be back in a minute.”
Leigh had a sneaking suspicion that she’d be lucky if her mother was back in an hour. Damn. Why hadn’t she driven the car? With only her sharp glare as a weapon against her mother, she sighed in another deep breath as Sheree stood and offered her seat to the enemy.
“Thank you,” Jeremy said, and sat down.
When his dark soulful eyes leveled on Leigh’s face, her body’s mutiny began. Her tongue curled, her breasts ached, her mouth went dry and her clit hammered in sync with her speeding heart.
“What do you want?” she managed to ask before her throat tightened.
“I called you this morning…I don’t know if you got my message….”
Leigh folded her arms and stared. She wasn’t going to acknowledge a damn thing.
He knew what time it was and inhaled another deep breath. “About last night,” he began. “I—”
“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she said, shaking her head and grinding her teeth.
“But—”
“In fact, I don’t want to talk to you about anything ever again, if I can help it.”
To her surprise, his head jerked back as if she’d just slapped him. She leaned in over the table. “You had some nerve manhandling and talking to me like that.”
“I know, I—”
“Not only was I humiliated, but you had the audacity to call me a crazy gold-digging ho,” she hissed.
“Actually, I said that you were either or.”
She pounded a fist on the table while her eyes narrowed murderously.
Jeremy’s arms flew up in surrender. “But your point is well taken.” This time, he leaned over the table.
In response, she eased back.
“Leigh, I’m not proud of what I did last night. I have to admit that it had a lot to do with my anger and fear. And while my emotions were at levels that I’ve never experienced before, I have to say that I am truly, truly sorry.”
He reached for her hands, but she jerked them back. His touch was the last thing that she could handle at this moment.
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