Higher Love

by Alexandria House

  I shrugged. “Maybe. I just wish she’d leave his sorry ass. She’s too good for him.”

  Denise’s phone chimed and she said, “Speak of the devil. She just texted me. Says she can’t make it.”

  I shook my head. “Did she tell you about what happened last week?”

  Denise placed my computer on the coffee table and turned to face me. “No, what?”

  “When she got home from work last Wednesday, there was a woman beating on her front door screaming that Mr. Bigg Blakk burned her.”

  Denise’s mouth fell open. “What?! You mean—”

  “Wesley supposedly gave her a VD. Trevia said she was livid. You know she stays in a nice neighborhood. The neighbors were outside and everything. When she tried to calm the woman down, the woman swung at her. Then Wesley finally came outside and pulled the woman off of Trevia. Then someone called the police. It was a hot mess.”

  “Damn! And they’re still together? The hell is wrong with Trevia? He probably gave her something, too!”

  “I just don’t know what her deal is.”

  “I’d break out my bat and wreck his shit for her, but it won’t help. She’d probably just pay for it to get fixed. Girl, I don’t want no parts of a penis like his. It’s like acid to brain cells.”

  “Right? Good penis will make you lose your mind.”

  We both laughed.

  Denise gave me a sly look. “Hey, speaking of good penis…”

  “Girl, I can’t lie. I kind of wish I could get in touch with Virginia Derek. Because honey, he was the bomb!”

  “Woo, be careful. I ain’t got a man right now and I broke my vibrator.”

  “Damn, you broke it? How much were you using it?”

  “Shut up.”

  I snickered as she snatched my laptop back down to her lap.

  “You break it, you pay for it…just like that vibrator,” I said with a smirk.

  “Kiss my ass. Hey, you got an email from Sable Jets.”

  “Who? What’s Sable Jets?”

  “How would I know?”

  “Open it and read it.”

  “Okay.”

  Denise had been reading silently for several minutes before I said, “What’s it say?”

  “That they are a private jet charter company and they want to partner with your blog.”

  “What?!” I shrieked.

  “And get this, the partnership would include them providing you with air travel...for FREE!”

  “A private jet? A free private jet?” I sat up, yanked the computer from her, and quickly read the email. “I can’t believe this.”

  Denise plopped down on the sofa next to me. “Believe it, sis. And...feel free to hook me up with a ride or two.”

  I rolled my eyes as I began typing my response to Sable Jets.

  15

  My meeting with Millie Graham, the head of marketing at Sable Jets, was at the offices of its parent company, Sable Inc., and so, a week after receiving that email from her, I happily found myself in downtown Houston in the lobby of a huge, towering building. I boarded the elevator and rode it to the ninth floor along with several other people. Some already looked harried at ten in the morning, others just looked tired. That was what I loved most about my career; since I was my own boss, I set my own schedule and worked at my own pace which served to alleviate stress for the most part. But this meeting and what it could do for my career was pulling at my nerves. I was so anxious that I almost didn’t get off at the right floor. My meeting was at 10:30 AM, but I didn’t want to take even a slim chance of being late.

  When I arrived at Sable Inc., I was greeted by a receptionist whose warm smile eased my tension a bit. She offered me a seat across from her huge glass-top desk and told me Millie would be with me shortly, offered me some coffee which I readily accepted. Big mistake. The caffeine heightened my anxiety. By the time a petite, mid-twentyish woman wearing a gorgeous black pantsuit approached me and introduced herself as Millie Graham, I was ready to climb the walls.

  “Greer Kennedy,” I managed to say as I accepted her outstretched hand.

  She pushed a tuft of her natural hair behind her ear, adjusted her thin, rectangular eyeglasses, and clapped her hands together. “Well, please follow me. I cannot tell you how excited I am about this meeting. Like I told you on the phone, I am a huge fan of your blog!”

  I followed her along a carpeted pathway that separated a maze of cubicles from a row of offices, and finally into a huge boardroom that held a long glass table surrounded by at least twenty sleek, black leather chairs. The table held four black folders and four glasses of water.

  I glanced at the lovely abstract art on the wall, and asked, “Um, where should I sit?”

  “Anywhere there’s a folder except the spot at the head of the table. That’s reserved for the CEO, Mr. Hill.”

  “One of the Hill brothers?” I asked. I remembered seeing something in the Sable Inc. information she sent me about the company being run by the Hill brothers.

  “Yes. When he found out about our meeting this morning, he insisted on sitting in. It’s kind of strange, because he usually doesn’t deal with any business at this level. Bigger fish to fry, you know? I guess he’s just as excited as I am about the potential of this deal.”

  I nodded and took a seat opposite the one Millie had claimed. My nervousness expanded at the prospect of this big-wig being present. I looked down at my attire and decided my skirt was too short. I look like I’m trying to sell my ass instead of my blog, I thought.

  A few seconds later, a man walked in and took a seat on the opposite side of the table from me, right next to Millie.

  “Ms. Kennedy, this is Derek Scott, my assistant.”

  Hearing the name Derek made goosebumps rise along my arms. As the man stood and walked around the table to shake my hand, I smiled while trying to wipe images of a naked Virginia Derek from my mind. Once this other Derek was seated again, I took a sip of water and then played with the edges of the glossy black folder before me with the Sable Jets logo etched on the cover in gold. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and when I heard the door open with a soft whoosh, opened my eyes to see Virginia Derek AKA Dr. The Best Sex You’ll Ever Have In Your Entire Life AKA fine-chocolate-dreadlocks enter the room and take a seat at the head of the table.

  16

  If my entire body had not been paralyzed, including my face, my mouth might have dropped open, or perhaps I would’ve hopped up and sprinted out of the room. But as it was, I sat there and stared at him in his navy blue suit that fit him so well you would’ve thought his fine ass was born in it. His dreads hung loosely, just past his shoulders. He was clean shaven in Virginia but was now sporting a neat goatee and mustache. His dark eyes were glued to me. The region between my legs instantly turned to mush.

  Shit! I thought. Shit, shit, double shit!

  My four-night-stand is the CEO?

  Shit, damn, hell! I can hang this deal up. Pretty sure he doesn’t do business with hoes, especially not with hoes who leave him in hotel rooms.

  “Thanks for joining us, Mr. Hill. This is Greer Kennedy. Ms. Kennedy, this is Sable Inc.’s CEO, Mr. Derek Hill,” Millie said.

  When he rose, I rose, but stood still as he took the few steps to shake my hand. He smiled, his eyes on my lips. “It’s truly a pleasure, Ms. Kennedy.”

  I opened my mouth, only managed to croak out, “T-thank you.”

  He gave me a little nod, and stroked the inside of my hand with his thumb before releasing it. I fell into my seat and mechanically opened the folder when instructed to by Millie. I tried to at least act like I was listening to her, but didn’t hear a word she said. My eyes had a mind of their own as they kept darting to Derek, who evidently stared at me the whole time with an expression on his face that had no place in a boardroom. It was a look that provoked some pretty explicit memories, and before I knew it, I had grabbed the folder and was fanning myself with it.

  Millie stopped mid-sentence and asked, “Are you
warm, Ms. Kennedy? I’m cold-natured so I’m bad about keeping rooms too warm.”

  Shit. I dropped the folder on the table. “No, I just...it’s me. Um, continue, please.”

  She glanced at Derek who was still staring at me. “Okay...”

  I started playing with my watch and then started tapping my foot. Finally, I interrupted Millie with, “I, this was a mistake. I’m sorry I wasted your time, but this isn’t going to work. I’m really, really sorry.”

  Millie looked taken aback. “Well, I haven’t even finished my presentation and—”

  “Millie, can you give me and Ms. Kennedy the room?” Derek asked, addressing her but still looking at me.

  “Sir?” she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

  “Can you and Mr. Scott give us the room?”

  She hesitated and then said, “Sure. Yes, sir.”

  They left, and Derek moved to a chair right beside mine.

  My eyes reluctantly met his. “Did you-did you know who I was before I got here today?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I did.”

  17

  2 Hours Earlier…

  The day started off so badly I was sure it would only get worse. I spent the night at a hotel, because Brandon had been on my case about how it looked for the CEO to be sleeping in his office, said it made me look either broke or crazy—not a good look at all for the company. I tried to argue that I didn’t want to waste the money and explained that I actually liked sleeping in my office. The couch was really comfortable, there was a private bathroom in my office suite, and if I went home early enough in the morning hours, Sasha would sleep through my shower and I could dress and duck back out of my house undetected. I had it all figured out and it was working for me, but Brandon insisted I get a room or go home. I was so tired of arguing about it, I gave in, went ahead and got a room, because I damn sure wasn’t spending an entire night under the same roof as Sasha’s underhanded ass. There wasn’t much I put past her, including raping me in my sleep.

  So I got a room downtown, paid too damn much for a suite thinking it would feel more like home, and didn’t get a wink of sleep because being in that hotel room reminded me of her.

  Monique, if that was really her name.

  I could smell her and feel her and well, my body reacted to all of that, making it difficult for me to get any rest. So I took care of my own needs and still couldn’t get to sleep. When I don’t get my proper rest, I can be an asshole. This time was no different. I was pissed off from the time I climbed out of bed to the second I walked into the office.

  I had meetings, phone calls, and all kinds of other shit I didn’t care to deal with as it was, so when Millie tapped on my door asking to see me, I damn near cut her head off.

  “What?!” I yelled.

  She actually physically jumped. “Um, I have that meeting with the travel blogger this morning...”

  I looked up from my computer with raised brows. “And?”

  “And you wanted to see the final proposal before I present it to her?” She didn’t sound at all sure of that fact.

  “Oh...right.” I held out my hand.

  She cautiously approached me and handed me a folder, then stood awkwardly by my desk.

  “Have a seat,” I offered, feeling a little sheepish.

  She sat in front of my desk as I perused the proposal. A little of my irritation dissipated as I read it. Millie was smart to come up with this idea of partnering with a blogger, and everything looked to be in order until I flipped to the back of the folder and saw a sheet of paper that looked to be a printed blog post. Attached to it was a color photo—full face, big round eyes, pouty lips, flawless mocha skin, braided hair. My eyes widened as I stared at the picture and wondered if my lack of sleep was affecting my mind.

  My expression must have been an indication of my confusion, because Millie softly said, “Mr. Hill, is something wrong?”

  I glanced at her, snatched the photo from the folder, and held it up. “Who is this?”

  She frowned slightly. “Uh...Greer Kennedy, sir.”

  “Who?”

  “Greer Kennedy. The travel blogger I’m meeting this morning.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “This is the Nubian Nomad?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  I placed the photo on my desk and stared at it. So many things made sense to me at that moment—all of the pictures she took at the festival and the fact that she was there alone. Monique was really Greer, and she’d be in the Sable Inc. office, my office, in just a couple of hours.

  “Why do you have her picture in here?”

  “So I will recognize her when she arrives.”

  A smile inched across my face as I handed the folder back to her. “Everything looks great, Millie.”

  She smiled. “Thank you. I’m really excited about this proposed partnership.”

  “So am I. As a matter of fact, I believe I’ll sit in on your meeting.”

  “Uh...sir?”

  “This is still your baby, I just want to be there. I won’t interfere.”

  She nodded. “Sure thing.”

  As she left, I said, “And Millie, please accept my apology for biting your head off earlier.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I watched the door close behind her and then chuckled to myself. The day was shaping up to be much better than I ever could’ve imagined.

  18

  Back in the boardroom…

  “Greer?”

  “Now you know why I let you call me Monique.”

  “No, I like it. It suits you—unique, elegant...”

  “I don’t know about elegant. It’s my mother’s maiden name. Her name was Charlene Greer before she married my father. Mine is Greer Charlene.”

  “Hmm, I just learned more about you in the last five minutes than I did in those three days and four nights we spent together in my room.”

  I dropped my eyes from his face. “Look, I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I’ll just...I’ll just go and get out of your hair.”

  “Why would you want to do that? This was not a waste of my time. It’s a good deal for both of us.”

  “I just thought—”

  “Look, business is business, and what we did in Virginia? That was much more than business.”

  “Um...to be honest, I didn’t hear a word that uh...”

  “Millie.”

  “Yes, Millie. I didn’t hear a word she said.”

  He smiled that smile of his and my insides began to melt again. “I’ve been a little distracted myself since I walked into this room and saw you, but I know the details of the deal well. I’d be more than happy to go over them with you over dinner so you can make a more informed decision.”

  “Derek—Mr. Hill, we can’t move forward with this deal and you know it. Not with our...past.”

  “Our past?” he asked, his smile widening.

  “Yes, you know. Our past.”

  “You mean all the sex we had that I’ve been thinking about for the past two months, four days...” He paused to check his watch. “And five hours?”

  I crossed my legs and tore my eyes away from his mouth. “Yes. How are we supposed to work together considering all of that?”

  “Well, Ms. Kennedy, I’m the CEO, so you really won’t be working with me that closely. You’ll mostly work with Millie and her staff.”

  “Oh...”

  “But that’s not to say that we can’t be...friends, or hopefully, much more than friends.”

  “I see...”

  “So dinner? We can discuss business, and if you still feel the same, we can part ways. No hard feelings.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. “Okay, dinner.”

  “Great, I’ll send Millie back in and you can let her know where you’re staying. I’ll pick you up at five.”

  19

  He picked me up in a limo.

  A limo.

  Came to my door in that damn suit looking like a good night’s sex. He was sm
iling when I opened the door wearing a pant suit of my own, hoping the business attire would convey to him where my mind was. This dinner was about business and nothing else. I wasn’t going to have it said that I got this deal on my back or my knees or his crotch…even if maybe I kind of sort of did. Or at least it seemed so since he knew who I was before I arrived at his office.

  Or maybe not.

  Hell, I was confused.

  “You ready?” he asked as he stepped into the room, his cologne drifting in with him and making me dizzy.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. That scent reminded me of Virginia, me and him, a memory I wanted to simultaneously dismiss and relish in at the same time. “Uh…yes. I am.”

  He reached for my hand. “Good.”

  I took his huge hand and let him lead the way. The ride to the restaurant, which he had declared was his favorite, was a quiet one, as I had no idea what to say. Sitting there next to him was assaulting my thought processes, leaving me with the intellect of a sweet potato. All I could think about was Virginia and Room 620 and his hands, his mouth, his—

  “We’re here,” he said, interrupting my little trip down sexual memory lane.

  “Oh…”

  The restaurant was located on the top floor of a high rise building. We were seated near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a breathtaking view of downtown Houston. I was staring at the cityscape dotted with lights when he said, “Great view, isn’t it?”

  I shifted my eyes to him and nodded. “Yes, it’s gorgeous.”

  “You should see the view from my office. It’s even better.”

  “I bet it is. So you’re a CEO. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

  “Why? Is it the dreads, or the earring, or the ‘This is my shit,’ or…other things.”

  “I don’t know, maybe it was your hotel room. My room was better than yours, Mr. CEO. Are you a bit…frugal?”

  He flashed me a smile. “Are you calling me cheap?”