“It does sound like a complicated web of deception,” Dr. Turner agreed.
“That it was. For the next couple of weeks, my man was walking around with his bottom lip hanging down about as long as mine usually was. I think that’s about the same time I realized how pathetic I’d been. Nothing like facing a mirror to put your life into perspective.”
Dr. Turner chuckled.
“What?” Quentin sat up and looked at her. “Is something funny? Are you guys allowed to laugh at your clients like that?”
“You’re overly sensitive today.”
Q stiffened. “No. I mean, I’m curious as to what you found so funny.”
“I don’t know if it’s funny so much as…how striking it is when you see yourself through everyone else’s eyes. I mean, on the surface, you wouldn’t think that would be the case. You’re Mr. Party All the Time. You certainly don’t believe in being alone, and you’re very hands-off even when it comes to your successful business.”
“I don’t know if I follow you.”
Dr. Turner folded her hands while she tried to approach her analysis another way. “You work very hard to give the impression that you’re a man marching to the beat of his own drum. You live life in style and carefree, but I find it…”
“Striking,” he supplied the word for her.
“Yes…striking that you constantly compare yourself and your mental state to your brothers and your cousins.”
“No. That’s not true.” He shook his head.
“You just compared Xavier’s heartbreak to your own. And not really in terms of the depths of what he was going through, but how it looked. It even sounds like there was a bit of resentment that his emotional break somehow detracted from the sympathy that you’ve come to depend on from him.”
Quentin didn’t like the way that sounded.
“Face it, Mr. Hinton. You’re an emotional vampire. And it sounds to me like you feed off the ones that you claim to care for the most.”
Her words hung in the air as he mulled over whether to argue or take her ridiculous theory seriously.
“Let me ask you something,” Dr. Turner said. “How much support did you give Xavier after this major blow? Did you give him as much attention and sympathy as he’d given you when you were in a similar situation?”
“Well, yeah,” Quentin answered much too quickly.
Turner kept her gaze leveled on him.
“I mean, as much as I could.”
Turner picked up her pen and started scribbling again.
“Wait. Wait. I’m not liking what you’re insinuating. Xavier is my friend. And I’m a damn good friend to him. I listened and I tried my best to help him get over his undercover lover the best and only way I knew how….”
Chapter 28
“Welcome to The Dollhouse Atlanta,” Quentin boasted at the top of his lungs as he led a throng of brothers into their private oasis for the night. Tonight, he was playing host until he and his sole partner, Jeremy, could put their heads together and decide on an Atlanta manager for the club. Occasionally, he could talk Xavier into filling in, but that was getting harder and harder to pull off.
After hearing that Atlanta’s finest had recently been investigating the club for drug trafficking, the first thing the cousins initiated was installing an additional level of security at all three club locations. In no time at all, they were able to catch Dog Pound’s drug dealing at the door.
Given how close Xavier was to Dog Pound’s uncle, Q took matters into his own hands and simply fired him and threatened that if he or anyone on his staff saw him hanging around the club again, he would press charges. That seemed to be enough to spook the man, but Quentin hadn’t expected the dude to burst out crying. Seemed he was more fearful of his uncle Ricky finding out and being disappointed in him than he was at the possibility of going to jail.
Once that situation was settled, things around The Dollhouse were back to normal. The place stayed packed and Quentin promoted Lexus to head their Bachelors Adventures services. So far, it was looking like it was going to be an easy transition from being a silent partner to a hands-on partner.
And he was loving it.
“I hope that you all came prepared to have a good time!”
The cluster of forty men sent up a loud cheer and Quentin quickly waved in the waitresses and Dolls for the evening. He brought the groom up to the stage and sat him down in front of a golden pole and introduced him to Cinnamon Brown, who would perform his first lap dance of the evening.
Having a new dancer at the club, Quentin stuck around to see how the Meagan Good lookalike dipped it down low and mopped the floor with all the junk that she was packing. It was a hard job, but somebody had to do these employee evaluations. Unfortunately, before he could appreciate Ms. Brown’s Brazilian wax, there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned and Lexus leaned over, “Your cousin is on the phone.”
He frowned. “Which one?”
“Jeremy.”
Quentin nodded and stole one last peek at Cinnamon’s hypnotic curves before sighing in regret and then making his way to the office. “Yo, partner. What’s up?”
“Sorry to pull you from the floor. I tried to get you on your cell.”
Q scooped his phone out of his pocket and saw that he had six missed calls. “Sorry about that, cuz. What can I do for you?”
“Have you talked to Xavier lately?”
“As a matter of fact, I talked to him this morning. He was heading out to the gym. I don’t know what he’s been doing there, but in the past month the man has packed on at least ten pounds of muscle.”
“I think he’s working something—or someone—out of his system.”
“The cop.”
“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed. “I have to admit I’m starting to get a little worried about him. The few times either Eamon or I could get him on the phone, he just doesn’t sound right. You gotta do something to get this chick off his mind. I can’t get out there for at least another week, but—”
“Say no more. I got this.” Q disconnected the call and immediately hit Xavier up on his home phone. Instinctively knowing that he was there, he didn’t leave a message the first time his call went to the answering machine. He just hung up and kept calling until Xavier finally picked up.
“Yeah. What is it?”
“Rise and shine, X-Man. Guess who’s coming over to rescue you from the four walls closing in on you.”
Xavier sighed. “Man, I’m beat. I’ve been putting in some serious hours working with My’kael. A couple more months, and I’m going to see about getting him his first professional fight.”
“So soon?”
“Ricky had been working with him long before I came into the picture and, frankly, I think he’s ready.”
Quentin nodded, but suspected that Xavier was really lining up the fight as a way to keep himself busy and focused on anything other than the woman who’d broken his heart. “Look, man, I’m not going to take no for an answer. I’m getting you out of the house. It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out together and tonight is the night.”
There was a long pause over the line.
“You know, I can hear those rusty cogs in that big head of yours slowly churning, trying to come up with an excuse as to why you can’t hang with your boy, but I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Q—”
“It’s time, Xavier. And I know just the string of beauties to call to make sure that we get the lady cop off your mind.” He slammed his eyes shut. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. Thanks, but no, thanks. I’m already in bed and—”
“What’s that?” Quentin asked, straining to hear on the other line. “Are you listening to Al Green?”
“Uh, no.”
It was an obvious lie, especially since Q was able to make out the chorus, “How can you mend a broken heart?”
“Oh, hell. I didn’t know that it was that serious. I’m on my way.” Before Xavier had a chance to object,
Q hung up the phone and asked Lexus to take over the night’s bachelor party.
Twenty minutes later, he was at Xavier’s condominium, banging on the front door and threatening to have it kicked in. “I’m going to count to ten,” he threatened.
Xavier jerked opened the door and leveled a look at Quentin that clearly said that if it wasn’t for the fact that they were cousins, he would be getting white-chalked right about now.
“Don’t give me that look,” Q said, pushing both Xavier and the door back. “Fear not. I’ve come to save the day.”
“For some reason, that doesn’t make me feel better.”
Q chuckled as he strolled into the living room as Anthony Hamilton’s “Can’t Let Go” floated through the entire condo. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at his cousin. “Damn.”
Tightening the belt on his black silk robe, Xavier shuffled into the living room, looking like a Mack truck had run over him two or three times. “What? You think that you have the market on heartbreak cornered?”
Quentin shook his head solemnly. “No. I guess I didn’t really know that… I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Xavier asked, making his way over to the leather sofa, plopping down and stretching out as Hamilton’s song started having the same effect on Quentin as his cousin, realizing how impossible it was to let go of someone you love.
“For not being here, especially after all that you’ve done for me these past two years.” He eased into the chair kitty-corner from the sofa. “What’s on your mind, man?”
“You mean other than me feeling like a complete fool? Nothing much.”
Maxwell’s “Pretty Wings” played next and Quentin was back on his feet. “I need a drink. You need one?”
“Man, just bring the bottle of whatever you’re having.”
That was saying something since Xavier wasn’t exactly what one would call a heavy drinker. Q ignored the bottle request but made two whiskey sours before rejoining his cousin for what was clearly shaping up to be a pity party.
“I didn’t even know her real name, man. She wasn’t a medical student. Hell, I don’t even know if that was her real family I met. Is there a place I never heard of where you can rent families?”
“Don’t know. Course I got you and your brothers on a bottom basement deal.”
Xavier shook his head, but also managed to smile.
“Aw—a smile. There’s still hope,” Q joked. “All is not lost.”
Xavier doubted that. “Keep your apology,” he said. “If anything, I owe you one. Until this…fiasco, I don’t think I truly comprehended just how painful love can be. It feels like…”
“Someone ripped your heart out of your chest—without anesthesia?”
Xavier thought about it. “Exactly.”
“That’s just the first stage.”
“Great.” Xavier tilted back his glass and downed its contents in one long gulp.
Quentin shook his head. “This is going to be an interesting evening.”
“The Black Chippendales?” Cheryl said, turning toward Johnnie. “Are you serious?”
Johnnie hopped out of her car and rushed over to wrap her arm around Cheryl’s waist. “This is just the kind of thing you need to try and cheer you up. You’ve been tripping on that bottom lip now for weeks. It’s time to get the old Cheryl back.”
“Hell, I don’t even remember that girl.” Cheryl dug her heels in and turned to her well-intentioned friend and shook her head. “I really don’t feel like going in there.”
“No. You want to go on ten-mile runs and pound punching bags until you drop. It’s not healthy.”
“And watching men gyrate in front of a bunch of screaming women is going to make me feel better?”
“C’mon. This used to make you feel better and it’s gotta be better than having to watch a bunch of women do it for the past couple of months…unless there’s something that you want to tell me.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes.
“Joking. Ha. Ha.” Johnnie poked out her bottom lip. “C’mon. Cheer up. I’m running out of tricks here.”
“I’m not interested in tricks. This is just something that I’m going to have to work through. The one man that I’ve finally fallen in love with can’t stand my guts. What is it that you don’t understand about that?”
Johnnie tossed up her hands. “I guess everything. How could you have fallen in love with someone you hardly know? At most, you two were just lovers. You went on one date and he dumped you.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, a blanket of regret covered her face.
Cheryl pulled away.
“That didn’t come out right.”
“Yes, it did.” Cheryl shook her head at her friend. “Look. I wish that I could explain this to you. Really I do, but that would require me understanding it myself. And I don’t. I don’t understand why I feel the way I do. I just do. It’s like my mother once said about love. When it comes, you know it. And no one—no one—could have screwed up something so perfect more than I have.”
Johnnie stepped forward. “Stop beating yourself up. You were just doing your job.”
“My job wasn’t to sleep with him.”
Her ex-partner clammed up on that one.
“Maybe if…after the investigation was over and I told him before something went down between us…”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes. I do.”
Someone opened the front door to the club and the whoops and hollers of the women flowed out of the club.
Cheryl shook her head. “I think I better go home.”
Johnnie’s lips twitched in disappointment, but she understood. “Come on, girl. Maybe we should stop and pick up a couple of gallons of ice cream while we’re at it. It looks like it’s going to be one of those evenings.”
Laughing uncontrollably, Quentin waved his hands. “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You were all set to forgive Cheryl if she had a drug problem, but when you found out she was a cop, it was a deal breaker? Do I have that right?”
“Well, it was a little more complicated than that.” Xavier snickered and slurred. “I wanted to show her that I wasn’t the type to just abandon someone because they had a problem or an addiction. I was willing to stick it out and help her through it.”
“That’s mighty big of you.” Q nodded. “Commendable.”
Xavier puffed up his chest. “Thank you.”
“It still don’t change the fact that you’d rather date a drug addict than a cop. In that sense, it’s a little fucked up.”
Xavier frowned. “What? No. Wait. You’re comparing apples to oranges.”
“What difference does that make? They’re both fruit.”
In his inebriated state, that remark tripped Xavier up to the point that he had to really think about that. But then Teddy Pendergrass’s “Love TKO” floated out of the speakers and the two men rocked their heads.
“Awww. Man. That’s my jam,” Xavier said, snapping his fingers and getting his groove going.
“Teddy P., Teddy P., Teddy P.” Quentin got his own groove going. “‘I try to hold on, my faith is gone. Whooo.’”
Xavier laughed and then Quentin quickly joined in.
“We’re a hot mess. You know that, right?” Q said.
“Yeah. But misery loves company.” He held up his glass for another toast. “Thanks for being here, man. I appreciate it.”
Quentin tapped their glasses together. “Any time.”
“It could all be so simple,” Lauryn Hill crooned from the speakers as Cheryl shoveled another heaping tablespoon of rocky-road ice cream into her mouth. “Mmm. Now, this is the kind of therapy I can get with.”
With Thaddeus long gone to bed, Larissa had joined her sister and Johnnie in the living room, spoons in hand, for their blues party. “‘Tell me who I have to beeee.’”
Larissa winced at the missed note her heartbroken sister hit and then shook her head. “I think you should just wait a little while for him
to calm down and then go over and talk to him again,” she said, cramming in a good helping of butter pecan in her mouth.
“Why? So he can just humiliate me again?” Cheryl said, shaking her head, realizing that she was starting to crest on a sugar high. “Please. I had to sign up with another gym just because I’m afraid of running into him.”
“What do you have to lose?” Johnnie asked.
“Other than all these calories I’m gorging on?”
Larissa rolled her eyes. “Please. Not as much as you work out. Your metabolism is so high that those suckers are probably disappearing the moment you swallow.”
“Are you eating ice cream or Haterade?” Cheryl snickered.
“I don’t know. I might have a little bit of both mixed in here.”
Johnnie peeked into her double chocolate chunk. “That makes two of us.”
Cheryl laughed. “C’mon, guys.”
“Hey. She’s laughing,” Johnnie said.
“Yeah. That means that there’s still hope for her.”
“I don’t know,” Cheryl said, jamming her spoon back into the carton. “It feels like I’m trying to breathe at the bottom of the ocean.”
“Been there, bought the T-shirt,” Larissa said. “When I broke up with Thaddeus’s dad, I thought I’d die. The way it felt was like someone had cracked open my chest and ripped my heart out.”
“Without anesthesia,” Johnnie said, bobbing her head and reflecting. “I have drawers and drawers of T-shirts. Breakups are never easy.”
“Great.” Cheryl plopped her carton onto the coffee table and leaned back on the floor against the sofa.
“Just go talk to him,” Larissa insisted. “You never know. He might’ve had time to calm down enough for him to hear you this time. He was hurt and it couldn’t have been easy to get that information from another man.”
“True. Of course, Mackey is roaming around the office still tripping over his bottom lip.”
Cheryl shook her head. “I don’t know. If he felt half as bad as I do right now when I broke up with him, then maybe I’m just getting back what I put out there. Karma.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Johnnie said. “The man has tried blackmailing, stalking and bullying. Keep that brother in your rearview and keep it stepping.”
King's Promise Page 22