by Desiree Day
Shepherd continued her fancy footwork. “Not at all. Just Tae Bo and occasionally working out on a punching bag, that’s all.”
“That’s all? That’s serious.”
“How do you think I stay so toned? Certainty not lifting all those glasses of margaritas and daiquiris.” She flexed her biceps. “These are the result of a lot of hard work…just like yours. Ready?”
Devin nervously nodded. Shepherd threw a punch at him, it landed on his arm. “This is for cheating on me.” She jabbed him in the stomach, he didn’t flinch. “This is for lying to me.” Devin stood silently while she pummeled him. He watched helplessly as her eyes watered, he knew that tears weren’t far behind. She jabbed his arm. “This is for not respecting my love.” She kicked him hard in the shin as tears began streaming down her face. She sobbed loudly and when she was done, she slumped into Devin’s arms.
“I’m so sorry Shepherd. So sorry.”
She lifted her tear stained face. “You hurt me. You took away my trust.”
“I’m sorry baby. I was so wrong for that, I was so immature.” Devin hurried over to a counter and plucked tissue from a dispenser. He used them to dab at her eyes.
“Thanks.” As soon as she calmed down, she pulled off her boxing gloves then slapped Devin across the face, her hand stung, but it felt good. Shocked, Devin stumbled away from her.
“What the hell?”
Shepherd grinned at him. “Now we’re even,” she quipped.
CHAPTER 9
As soon as Shepherd dropped her suitcases, her phone dinged, signaling an incoming text. She knew before looking at it that it was from Devin. Last night they had decided to see each other, with the stipulation that they take it very slow. But they both had different definitions of slow. He had wanted to see her the upcoming weekend and have her fly to Atlanta the weekend after that.
She had agreed to him visiting her, but she was still undecided about her visiting him. There was a possibility of her falling in love with him and she wasn’t ready for that yet. He still had to prove to her that he wanted the same thing she wanted and that he was willing to commit one hundred percent to her.
Shepherd checked her text, he wanted her address. “Oh, he must be sending me some flowers,” she muttered to herself while sending him the information. She pulled her luggage into her laundry room and debated whether to do her laundry. “I’ll do it later. I need to rest,” she decided.
She strolled up to her bedroom, stripped down to her underwear, turned on the TV then changed it to Lifetime. Fifteen minutes later she was asleep. A couple hours later the ringing from her cell phone woke her up. “Hello,” she answered her voice heavy with sleep.
“Hey girl, just checking to make sure you got home okay,” Mackenzie chirped.
Shepherd pushed herself up and built a mountain of pillows for her to recline on. “I’m here. I was resting. I was so tired. Why aren’t you tired?”
“I just woke up,” Mackenzie admitted.
“Did you want to stop by—?” Her doorbell pealed. “Wait hold on, somebody’s at the door.” She hopped off the bed and trotted down the stairs to the front door. She peeked through the peephole. “Oh my God!” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“Let me call you back later.” She clicked off her phone before she pulled open the door, Devin stood on the other side. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Atlanta,” she sputtered.
“May I come in?”
“Of course, come in.”
Devin strolled in and Shepherd led him to the living room. “Nice house.”
“Thanks. What are you doing here?” she blurted.
Devin sat down on the couch. “Sit next to me.” Shepherd sat down beside him. “I wanted to talk to you in person.”
“Okay,” Shepherd said, her stomach fluttered nervously.
Devin grabbed her hand. “I want to apologize again for what I did to you.”
“Thanks.”
Devin made little circles on her hand with his thumb and Shepherd shivered with desire. “I had a good time this week…a really good time and it was all because of you.”
“That’s sweet Devin.”
He took a shaky breath. “I couldn’t let another day pass without telling you that.”
“You could’ve called me baby.”
“No. Then I couldn’t have done this.” He lowered his mouth to hers and passionately kissed her. Shepherd gently nudged him until he was on his back; she crawled on top of him. She cupped his face between her hands and began kissing him, they both groaned loudly as they enjoyed each other. Moments later they broke apart. “Another reason I flew in is because I want you to see how committed I am to us. And if you want me to, I’ll fly or drive over every weekend to see you,” he said earnestly and Shepherd laughed her heart happy.
“I believe you. How long are you staying?”
“Until you get tired of me.”
Shepherd grabbed his hand and guided him up the stairs to her bedroom. “I don’t see that happening for a long time.”
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Willow Hillsborough angrily stabbed at a piece of spinach. “What a horrible birthday. This isn’t how I expected to spend my thirty-first birthday,” she mumbled. Willow set down her fork and dropped her head in her hands, her honey blonde tresses curtaining her face. What was supposed to be a romantic dinner with her date had turned into a solo dining experience. Instead of enjoying a scrumptious meal of oysters, lobsters and champagne, all aphrodisiacs, her date preferred to troll the restaurant for clients.
All around her, couples whispered in each other’s ears, held hands and gazed adoringly in their partner’s eyes. “But not me,” Willow muttered. She lifted her head and glanced across the restaurant at her date, Marius Santiago. He was a driven man, the kind she admired and dated for the last ten years but tonight, instead of admiration, she found herself irritated, even angry.
A plastic surgeon, Marius had the chiseled looks that his clients paid thousands to get. But Willow knew his good looks were the result of a beautiful gene pool. She knew because he kept a family portrait of his siblings, parents, and grandparents prominently displayed in his office. His brushed bronze skin, strong nose and sharp cheekbones came from his Puerto Rican mother and black father, as did his glossy black hair and full lips.
One time he’d casually asked if she wanted breast enhancement surgery, on the house, of course. She turned him down flat, not only did she not want to end up looking like a Barbie doll, but because she really liked her body, no amount of silicon, saline or collagen was ever going to contaminate it.
Willow’s BlackBerry chirped. She glanced down then groaned. She recognized the number. “Can my birthday get any worse?”
For the last five years Willow had worked as an entertainment lawyer. Her client roster was made up of Atlanta’s fresh crop of newly minted entertainers and seasoned celebrities. She was the go to lawyer for rappers, actors and reality stars for their legal woes. Her workweek was no less than eighty hours; she practically lived in her office.
Willow tapped her finger on the table debating whether to take the call, but she knew she was obligated. It was, Lynda, the mother of Pretty Boy Troy, a client of hers and she was calling for help. Pretty Boy Troy was a twenty-year-old rapper who sounded like the late Notorious B.I.G., danced like the legendary Michael Jackson and looked like the popular rapper Drake, had the potential for super stardom. All he had to do was stay out of trouble, which he wasn’t able to do. He had opened up for T.I. and Lil Wayne. His agent was in the process of ironing out a contract for him to tour with Chris Brown.
Willow clicked on her phone and before she could say hello, Pretty Boy’s mot
her began spewing her problem. A couple of weeks ago, Pretty Boy had been driving his hundred thousand dollar car, which puzzled Willow as she couldn’t for the life of her understand why a twenty-year-old needed such an expensive car. When she was twenty her twelve-year-old Honda Civic had gotten her around just fine.
The Atlanta Police Department had stopped him for speeding which normally would have garnered him only a ticket. But the suspicious smelling cloud that billowed out the open door prompted an immediate search. The APD found just enough weed to arrest him. He was due in court Monday and his mother hadn’t seen him in days.
Willow sipped her wine, took a deep breath and tried to calm Lynda down. “Yes he needs to be in court Monday. But relax he goes MIA all the time, you know your son, he’ll show up as though nothing is wrong. He’s okay.” After another five minutes of coddling and reassuring her, Willow clicked off, then immediately called Troy, she refused to call him by his moniker.
He picked up his phone on the first ring. “You’d better show up in court Monday,” she barked, then, “call your mom,” she added softly before clicking off. She knew that he was at his boyfriend’s house. If anybody found out the truth about his sexuality, his rap career was over. The sexy playboy persona that he had spent years cultivating was a sham, only a handful of people knew the truth, unfortunately, his mother wasn’t one of the privileged few.
Willow refocused on Marius. All through law school she found herself dating men in powerful positions, the President of the Black Student Association, VP of the Black Lawyer Student Association and President of the Debate Team. Her dating preference continued way past college, where her dates of choice were, CEOs, COOs, business owners, doctors and lastly lawyers, like herself.
Willow’s mouth tightened when she saw Marius pull his blasted BlackBerry from his pocket and began entering information. A few minutes later he turned on his heel and sauntered across the restaurant, smiling smugly. Without an apology, he slid into his chair, snapped his cloth napkin, and smoothed it over his lap.
“Are you enjoying yourself,” Willow asked tightly.
“I am,” Marius smiled at her, oblivious to her simmering anger. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”
He had, many times, he had told her when he picked her up, on the way to the restaurant and once when they were seated. In honor of her birthday, Willow had poured herself into a Donna Karan party dress, which accentuated her curves. It stopped mid thigh, showing off a set of well-toned legs. Her honey colored skin glistened with the sparkling body powder she had caressed on her shoulders before her date. Willow narrowed her eyes, she knew his game, and she wasn’t about to fall for it. She wasn’t going to be distracted…not tonight.
“I wish you hadn’t stopped to talk, I thought tonight was going to be about us,” she said, not mentioning that this wasn’t the first time he had gotten up during dinner to talk to prospective and past clients. Or every time she wanted to talk about something of substance, like her mother who was suffering from Alzheimer’s, he deftly changed the subject.
Marius grinned, showing obscenely straight white teeth. “Sorry baby, I just can’t say no,” he said, then shrugged apologetically.
“It’s my birthday; you can ignore them, besides they know how to contact you.”
Marius laughed. “Lighten up Willow. We didn’t have a verbal agreement that I’d spend every second of your birthday with you. What are you going to do, sue me?”
Willow bristled. “That wasn’t funny. All I ask is that you focus on me for three hours.”
“I could. But then I wouldn’t have been able to buy those beautiful pair of earrings for you. I need to make the money baby.”
She glanced down at the jewelry box that held a pair of two-carat, platinum, tear drop earrings. “I would much rather have you than a piece of jewelry,” she said and she meant it. Over the years men had lavished her with exquisite jewelry, expensive trips and clothes, the truth be told, as an entertainment lawyer, she could easily purchase all those gifts and then some for herself. But the men liked buying things for her, and at the time, she liked receiving them.
“Hey, are you changing on me? You used to love how I operated. Just last week you high-fived me after I nailed your favorite news anchor for a consultation, while I was standing in line at Starbucks. What happened to that person?”
Willow shook her head. “I don’t know. While I was sitting here, by myself, I realized that I want more. And I know you, you’re not going to change, and I won’t ask you to.”
“You’re right,” Marius agreed. “I love what I do, and right now that passion for work, supersedes everything else in my life. And that’s why you dated me.”
“I know,” Willow said quietly. A couple of months ago, Marius’s passion for his work was a turn on, now not so much.
“So, does this mean what I think it does?” he asked drilling to the core of the matter.
Willow nodded. “We want different things.”
“But I would love to continue seeing you. I think we can have something special. I got a suggestion,” he continued, “we can see each other when it’s convenient for both of us. We won’t have any rules; we’ll just go with the flow.”
“No, that’ll be even emptier than what we have now. There won’t be any commitment; I want something more than just a playmate.”
Marius’s gaze traveled down her face and stopped at her mouth. “I’ve had many dreams about your lips,” he admitted and Willow’s skin flushed red. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
Willow shook her head. “Thanks, but even if I did, you and I both know that it wouldn’t last.”
“You’re right. So can I at least finish my dinner with the most beautiful lady in the room?” Marius asked, his voice charming.
Willow grinned, grateful that Marius was so understanding. Part of her knew that he would be since they really hadn’t been dating long. “Of course.”
“My birthday was horrible,” Willow grumbled to her best friend Mya Tisdale. They had met after Mya transferred to her high school. Willow who was, the head cheerleader, President of the Debate Team, her class and the chess club, befriended the newcomer with such warmth that their friendship, which spanned more than a decade, was still going strong.
“What happened? I thought you and Marius had a date,” she asked while passing Willow a Bellini. It was a late Saturday afternoon in June and they were sitting on Mya’s condo’s rooftop. The sun, blindly hot, shined down, baking everything that wasn’t protected. Willow could swear that the sun’s rays speared through the umbrella under which she sat and cooked her.
Willow had just gotten to her friend’s house after spending the night tossing and turning while thinking about her failed date, and what she should do about her dating life. She didn’t feel any closer to a resolution in the morning. She gratefully sipped her drink enjoying the icy sweetness cooling her throat. Even though she had dressed for the weather, she was still hot. The sun dress that she had thrown on this morning was beginning to plaster itself to her body, thankfully, she had packed several set of clothes to pick from to wear later tonight for her birthday celebration. Any other time, she would appreciate the view of the Atlanta skyline and the weather, but today she was too annoyed to bother.
“How come we aren’t inside? Your place is a lot cooler and nicer.” Willow loved Mya’s condominium with its plate glass windows, fresh décor, spacious rooms and air conditioning.
Mya sipped her drink before offering her friend a glass bowl of frozen fruits. They both loved their frozen grapes, watermelon chunks and mango with a sprig of mint. “I just wanted something different,” she answered calmly; she knew that Willow was upset about her failed date and not with her. “Besides I love this spot.” Mya’s condo association had renovated the rooftop, creating a water feature, a grilling area and a track that spanned the perimeter. While usually heavily populated, Willow and Mya shared the space with only a few people. The sun had scared most of th
e residents away.
Willow plucked a frozen grape from the bowl and dropped it into her mouth. She chewed slowly then swallowed before answering. “It is nice,” she agreed. “Marius and I went out, and he closed the deal…but not with me.” At seeing her friend’s confused expression, Willow elaborated. “He spent the evening wheeling and dealing and barely paying any attention to me and I looked good.”
Mya smiled at her friend. “But I thought you liked that about your men.”
Willow shook her head. “Until last night I thought power was sexy, I used to think that there wasn’t anything sexier than a man making deals and making things happen. But it’s getting old. I’m not getting turned on, I’m beginning to find them all irritating,” she admitted.
Instead of replying, Mya handed her friend a cupcake and sang happy birthday to her. “Eat up.” They celebrated each other’s birthday every year. Sometimes they gave each other elaborate gifts such as trips or tickets to a concert. They both could easily afford it, Willow as an entertainment lawyer and Mya as one of Atlanta’s top event planners. “I can’t wait for you to see what I got you for your birthday. I think you’re going to like it,” Mya sang, and after hearing her friend talk about her men woes, she knew that she had gotten her the perfect gift.
“I hope so,” Willow said in between licking icing off her fingers. “I really need something nice, my birthday sucked.”
“Don’t worry; don’t I always get you something good?”
“You do,” Willow agreed. Last year Mya had treated her to a trip to New York City, where they shopped, ate and partied until they had taken more bites of the Big Apple than they cared for.
“What type of man are you looking for?” Mya asked.
Willow smiled at her. One thing about Mya is that as soon as you think she had forgotten what you were talking about, she backtracked to the subject. “Not the guys I’ve been dating in the past, that’s for sure.”
