by Falon Gold
“You don’t need her, Camron. You have me. She could never be one of us.”
“You’re right. She’s better than us, has a good heart, a kind soul, a loving family that she’ll give up everything for. I know because I made her do it, and all she wanted was for me to not play games with her. Playing games with lives and money and comparing bank accounts and power is the biggest thrill in our world. Well, I want something more, and Amari is it. Do us all a favor and leave here and go find what I’ve found in Amari, Bailey. I’ll be having Tommy check the house after I’ve left to make sure you’re gone in the next half hour.”
I continue through the entrance hall into the kitchen, where Tommy is cleaning and preparing for Amari’s lunch. He looks up briefly.
“Add two more places to the lunch menu besides Amari, Tommy. Blake and Astrid will be here sometime today. Bailey and her crew are leaving now.”
He smiles and nod, probably heard everything said between Bailey and me. I hope he reports every word back to Amari, then I open the garage access in the top corner of the kitchen and descend the steps into the dimly-lit carport.
“Camron, I love you,” Bailey tosses after me.
Sunshine pouring into the portholes on the door barely making a dent in the dark, I pass the rear end of Amari’s Hyundai and a collection of other cars bought for their pedigree. Wasted money when there are people like Amari’s father who need an extension of life.
“You don’t love me, Bailey, or yourself. Or you wouldn’t be throwing yourself at me. You have no idea what those words means, so don’t ever use them where I can hear you again.”
“Fine, but I’m not letting you go this easy. She’ll never cut it in our circle.”
“God, I hope not. I don’t want Amari to ever become less than what she is.”
Bailey stomps off like a petulant child. I open the driver’s door to the Ferrari parked next to Amari’s blood red BMW, driving onto the street as fast the black devil on chrome wheels will go.
“Dial, Blake,” I command the car.
“What, Camron?” he answers gruffly.
“No time for your attitude, Blake, or your ‘I told you so’. You were right about having Bailey stay over. She’s on a rampage. Shouldn’t have agreed to her and her crew living with Amari and I. Bailey’s gone so far as to tell me she loves me. I should’ve never let her convince me she’d get along with Amari. I’m headed to Power Enterprises. Have some business trouble of my own that needs to be sorted out today if I can. If you’re still in town, come by the house as fast you can, and make sure Bailey and her friends leave it. Amari’s in the shower, but she won’t be for long. I don’t want her upset but about any of this, or Bailey seizing the opportunity to start drama while I’m gone. Just don’t let Amari know that I’m sending in a certified bodyguard. She’ll be pissed.”
“That I can do for you, cousin. Astrid!” He hangs up.
Hopefully, Amari never finds out she’s being guarded from my own mistakes, and then considers me one.
Chapter Ten
~Amari~
“Sheryl, I swear I’ll be there tonight, and I’ll pay because I shouldn’t have forgot. I just… had a lot going on.” More than my fair share of complications.
“What did you have going on, Amari, besides quitting your job? I need details if I’m going to forgive you and keep my promise to pay.”
“I… this will have to be done in person. It’s too long a story to tell over the phone and I need to track my parents down. Neither one of them are answering their phones.”
I quickly dress in my usual garb: skinny brown jeans, white high-low shirt, and peep-toe heels that buckle around my ankles. The only thing missing is my necklace.
And the turmoil it bought.
It’s brewing in a different form. Bailey.
“Okay, Amari, eight at Gianni’s tonight, or I’m tracking you down. I’ve been worried about you too. It doesn’t seem right to work without you and Mr. Powers. I didn’t get an answer from him either when I called him this morning.”
“That’s because he was with me, Sheryl.”
She screams, “Tell me everything!”
If I want to save my hearing, I’m going to have to cut this call short.
“Sheryl, I’ll be there tonight on time to explain. Tell Desmond I said hello. Bye, love.”
It’s possible she didn’t hear me. She’s still screaming, “I want to know right now, Amari!” when I disconnect the call, and redial my mother. No answer. A quick trip to my parents’ home should produce some results… unless my father is at the hospital for tests in Candleton. That’s normal with his condition, and the cell service there is spotty at best without the personnel demanding you shut your phones completely off. I ring Candleton General Hospital just to be on the safe side, and ask if Mitchum Spencer has been scheduled for tests.
“Your mother said you’d track them down, Ms. Spencer. Your father’s tests are already completed. His surgery will be performed at eight tonight. He’s only allowed one guest today, to keep down infection. Regular visits begin in the morning.”
I fist the wood of the bedroom doors. “No one told me anything about he needs surgery. How bad has his condition worsened?” I cannot lose my father after all I’ve been through.
“His condition is stable, but his surgery was scheduled last minute, and he had to be here within the hour of the call placed just last night after his grant had been approved for his hospital stay. It takes twenty-four hours for the round of antibiotics to enter his system and the tests results to come back.”
“Grant? What grant? From what organization?” I sink down to the bed. “He’s been there all night?”
“Yes. It’s a private donor funding the experimental surgery.”
“Experimental? We can’t afford that procedure yet.”
“The grant covers all costs, and it’s common for any patient that’ll have a new procedure like this to have to leave home right then to be prepped for surgery. This technique is so much more advanced than most I’m surprised he didn’t have to be here all week before the surgeons gave the okay, but the survival rate is ninety-eight percent.”
“It’s the two percent that worries me.”
“Your father’s in good health, Ms. Spencer, so he should be more than fine when it’s over. It’s not as invasive or hard to recover from as the older procedures are. You’ll be wasting your time coming here today. Your mother won’t be able to come of his room until tomorrow or she won’t be able to go back in. She’s had to scrub free of germs before she could even go in. That takes twenty minutes and she’s not going to want to do it again. They’re both being well taken care of. Someone is certainly looking out for your family, Ms. Spencer.”
There’s only one ‘someone’ I know who can pull strings this fast and afford to just give away one, no, two million dollars. Camron, who wouldn’t have told me just because this is who he is, secretive until the last moment. And maybe he just doesn’t want me to feel as if I owe him anything. If my father survives, I’ll owe him everything.
“Thank you. I’ll check in again tonight on my father if that’s alright.”
“It’s surely is, Ms. Spencer. Have a good day.”
I send out text after text, telling off my family, including Camron…
Oh damn, I’m already thinking of him as family who didn’t let me in on my father’s upcoming surgery and isn’t here to distract me from my worries.
Brandon calls back. I give him an earful about keeping me in the dark about our father’s approval for the surgery.
“Slow down, Amari! I didn’t know either!”
“What do you mean you didn’t know either, Brandon? You live and work as a graphic designer for the same city as Mama and Daddy.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m more prone to know their business any faster you are, and maybe they just didn’t want us to worry. We’d have told the other, like we’re doing. If they wanted us to know, they’d have told us.”
“It’s just like you, Amari, to look at the glass half empty instead of half full, and I know you need a hug right now while you imagine the worst.”
“Yes, I do, and I am, and you can give me a hug at Gianni’s tonight at eight. I expect you and Gabby there with bells on. Non-negotiable.”
He laughs. “That’s better than when you used to demand I hug you right then, even when I was in college and you were still at home.”
“I could still demand you come right now, Brandon.”
“That’s my cue to end this call right now. Bye, lil sis.”
“Bye.”
I toss the phone on the unmade bed when I don’t see a text back from Camron or anyone else, and start to pace, until there’s a knock on the door. I open it to Tommy and a maid, then get out of her way so she can clean it. Tommy reminds me that Astrid and Blake are supposed to be dropping by soon, as well as the witches will be jetting away in the same time frame, before he abandons me to finish fixing lunch. I don’t do worrying-while-alone well, so I wonder into the other wing of the house where the witches are, not expecting them to roll a ridiculous number of designer luggage out of their bedrooms.
Aw shit!
At a dead stop, I wait for them to pass. Layla ignores me. Sasha gives me a once-over that communicates her distaste for me without breaking her stride. Or maybe she doesn’t approve of my outfit. I can’t tell which put a bigger stick up her butt. Probably both. Who cares?
Bailey is the only one to pause beside me. “You can’t have him. You’re not good enough for him.”
“I already have him. You should move on in every way possible.”
“We’ll see about that, gutter rat. I promise you won’t keep him.”
A few insults to her name rise in my throat, but I swallow them all. She’s already dead to me. She just doesn’t know when to lay down.
“You’re not even worth the energy it takes to respond. Girl, bye.”
I continue down the hall towards the bedrooms they vacated, nosing in the well-designed rooms a third the size of mine. No wonder Layla was complaining about exchanging bedrooms. She had to have been cramped in hers with what looked like all her belongings. While returning to the east wing, Tommy appears at the top of the staircase.
“Astrid and Blake are downstairs.”
“They’re early.”
“What do you want me to do? I can tell them to come back.”
“No, I need the company.”
I spend more time cooing to BJ than talking to Astrid and Blake, who issues an invitation plus two to their engagement party for the coming weekend. Then he starts grilling me about Camron and me. I answer him evasively or counter with inquiries about the resort’s grand opening that’s been pushed back indefinitely. Tired of that after an hour, I offer my babysitting services to them. Both have fatigue leaking off them like a faulty spigot. Astrid hauls Blake up to his feet by his arm, then toward the front door without even a thank you. Caring for BJ, a new life, and watching him sleep is the only thing that calms my nerves. At seven thirty, they pick him up so I can get to Gianni’s on time.
In my closet, I check my phone while grabbing my purse and keys. Camron has finally texted back, hours ago, promising to explain why he hid his part in my father getting a new lease on life. I text him back that I already know why and he can make it up to me by giving me a hug when he gets off. Hopefully, no news from my mother is good news. The two-door BMW is a smooth animal on wheels. With fifteen minutes to spare, I get to Gianni’s, a two-story bar and grill packed to the gills on the ground floor with bodies dancing to August Alsina’s “I Love This.”
Sweating after simply walking through the crowd, I splurge on a VIP section upstairs, with instructions to direct any guest who asked for me up there. Have barely sat on the red velvet wraparound bench when Camron is standing at the ropes cordoning off my section. Unbuttoning his jacket is all he accomplishes before I bomb rush him. Completely needy. By the deep grin encased in faint dimples on his face, he doesn’t seem to mind.
“God, I’ve missed you, Amari.”
“Same here, Cam. Thank you.”
“Oh, you missed you too, huh? And you’re welcome.”
I slap his chest playfully before he tows me into his chest to kiss me. That’s how Sheryl and Desmond find us.
“It’s about time,” she chirps. “Girl, I thought you’d have cobwebs between your thighs forever.”
We drift a part, only for Camron to twine our fingers together. Gabby and Brandon show up right afterwards dressed similarly to me. Gabby vows to wear every midriff top and then some while she still can. Most of the chitchat revolves around her pregnancy and Camron whispering sweet nothings that mean everything in my ear, the music too loud to hold a real conversation over. That doesn’t stop Brandon from revealing more of my faults to Camron, and Sheryl rubberstamping each and every one, but even that can’t stomp my joy, content to just be in good company.
Time flies by and the bar is closing too soon. It’s the most time I’ve spent near Camron without wanting to kill him or hide from him, and I wasn’t the third wheel to Sheryl and Desmond wearing matching navy-blue business suits. At our cars, Camron and I wait for the others to leave safely before I trail him home where there’s no talking. We fall in the house from the garage kissing, and then into my bed.
Do I wonder what does his bedroom looks like? Shit yeah! When he tells me that he’ll might have to fly to Dubai because Sheik Ahlam is being a hard ass about agreeing on a price for the land, I figure I’ll get a glance at Camron’s space when that time comes. As in a glance that involves rolling in his bed, holding his pillow while breathing in his scent, and then stealing his shirts to sleep in. All the questions in my head about us, I save for a time when we don’t have a business trip looming like a bad storm and our relationship isn’t so fresh.
You’re scared.
Yes, but I won’t be when I’m more comfortable in Camron’s feelings for me. Some part of me just doesn’t want to believe we’re really together.
A routine quickly develops. Camron goes to work after practicing martial arts on the balcony under the low embers of sunlight. I call my mother about my father’s health every few hours when I’m not visiting the hospital, sketching shoe designs, building my brand, tumbling deeper into love with Camron, or babysitting BJ while Astrid and Blake finalize party plans with his mother. Sometimes, they just use the time to reconnect with each other before taking the jet home to Colorado. My mother spares my father the details of Camron’s contract in favor of his health inclining instead of declining. I have no idea why she hasn’t told Brandon, just glad she hasn’t.
Dodging Blake’s third degree about Camron’s actions to push us together is the new normal too. Apparently, Camron is too busy to divulge his secrets and refuses to over the phone. The Dubai deal is keeping him tied up at the office to late nights. I’m convinced the contract between us is Camron’s story to tell.
Tommy feeds me, and holds small talk over whichever meal I don’t eat at my desk. The date for Blake’s and Astrid’s engagement party arrives. Camron and I ride in a stretch hummer with Brandon and Gabby to the venue, a beautiful vineyard just outside of New York City, crammed with people from all over the world and the states and round tables adorned with silver and gray flower arrangements small enough to be elegant and allow the patrons to socialize.
Malisa in white, off the shoulder organza and carrying her little girl Salon, along with Astrid with BJ greet us at the front entrance. In plain white onesies and socks, the babies babble happily under the extended black awning shading the brown and gray stone sidewalk. Only a damn good mother would keep her kid cool and comfortable at a black-tie event.
People laugh and chatter over the elevator music from inside while I introduce them to Brandon and Gabby and bob my head to a violin’s solo.
Astrid grimaces. “The music isn’t my idea. My future mother-in-law
’s.”
“It’s just one party, Astrid.” I hug her, and then Malisa before kidnapping Salon against my black dress, with an opened back and crisscrossing wide straps. She’s the chubby, spitting image of her mother with a curly top. I reach across Astrid to tickle BJ’s chin. Couldn’t help asking about Malisa’s boys, Savion and Sebastion the oldest, who are inside, being passed between the Owens and Apollo’s mother, Sienna. Camron hugs both women before questioning Astrid about Blake.
She gives him a sly smile. “Inside. I’ll take you to him.”
Camron winks.
“What are you two up?” I ask her.
“Nothing. We have a bet about the fireworks I expect when it becomes real for Ashley that her son and I are really getting married. She’s been on her best behavior though, so maybe she’s really changed. I’ll take you to your table. Dinner’s about to be served and I don’t want you to miss Blake’s proposal to me during it.”
Damn, she even knows when it’s going to happen. Sympathetically, I stroke her shoulder under a long, body hugging, sleeveless, sheer black gown. White beadwork outlines her neck, hips, and the train.
“I am sorry about the future mother-in-law, Astrid. It’s not so romantic when you have to schedule a defining moment of your life, is it?”
“No, the drama between his mother and I spoiled the surprise it would’ve been for me, but I love him, so who needs romance?”
The Powers family is just about the pits.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure I’ll still ruin my makeup crying all over the place after Blake proposes.”
She giggles. “That makes two of us, Amari.”
“Me too,” Gabby adds.
Inside the ballroom, Brandon’s head roll toward the ceiling. “I’m banning tears from this moment on.”
Camron shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s probably not going to work, Brandon. There’s Blake. Let’s go see what he’s up to and get the ladies some wine while they figure out our seating arrangements.”
