If You Don't Know Me Read online

  Also by Mary B. Morrison

  If I Can’t Have You series

  If I Can’t Have You

  I’d Rather Be With You

  If You Don’t Know Me

  Soulmates Dissipate Series

  Soulmates Dissipate

  Never Again Once More

  He’s Just a Friend

  Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top

  Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This

  When Somebody Loves You Back

  Darius Jones

  The Honey Diaries

  Sweeter Than Honey

  Who’s Loving You

  Unconditionally Single

  Darius Jones

  She Ain’t the One (coauthored with Carl Weber)

  Maneater (anthology with Noire)

  The Eternal Engagement

  Justice Just Us Just Me

  Who’s Making Love

  Mary B. Morrison, writing as HoneyB

  Sexcapades

  Single Husbands

  Married on Mondays

  The Rich Girls Club

  Presented by Mary B. Morrison

  Diverse Stories: From the Imaginations of Sixth Graders (an anthology of fiction written by thirty-three 6th graders)

  If You Don’t Know Me

  MARY B. MORRISON

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by Mary B. Morrison

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  PROLOGUE - Sindy

  CHAPTER 1 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 2 - Granville

  CHAPTER 3 - Madison

  CHAPTER 4 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 5 - Madison

  CHAPTER 6 - Granville

  CHAPTER 7 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 8 - Granville

  CHAPTER 9 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 10 - Madison

  CHAPTER 11 - Granville

  CHAPTER 12 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 13 - Madison

  CHAPTER 14 - Granville

  CHAPTER 15 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 16 - Madison

  CHAPTER 17 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 18 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 19 - Madison

  CHAPTER 20 - Granville

  CHAPTER 21 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 22 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 23 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 24 - Granville

  CHAPTER 25 - Madison

  CHAPTER 26 - Granville

  CHAPTER 27 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 28 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 29 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 30 - Madison

  CHAPTER 31 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 32 - Granville

  CHAPTER 33 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 34 - Madison

  CHAPTER 35 - Granville

  CHAPTER 36 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 37 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 38 - Granville

  CHAPTER 39 - Madison

  CHAPTER 40 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 41 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 42 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 43 - Granville

  CHAPTER 44 - Madison

  CHAPTER 45 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 46 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 47 - Granville

  CHAPTER 48 - Sindy

  CHAPTER 49 - Granville

  CHAPTER 50 - Chicago

  CHAPTER 51 - Sindy

  Life is Short. Love is Shorter.

  A READING GROUP GUIDE

  Discussion Questions

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  Dedicated to the real men I met while in Houston, Texas, working on this series.

  Souleymane Bakayoto

  Harold V. Dutton Jr.

  Jason Griffin

  Donald Hogan

  Raynard Richardson

  Kevin Smith

  and

  Dominique McClellan

  Acknowledgments

  All great things must cum to a climax. That is why I’m ending my If I Can’t Have You trilogy with an orgasmic, “Oh my God!” and not leaving you with a cliffhanger this time. As I conclude, I must thank God for blessing me with the gift to write for Kensington Publishing Corporation for fourteen consecutive years. I don’t take for granted the continued success I’ve had in the literary industry. For my longevity, I thank you, my friends, family, and fans, for buying my books!

  I’m excited about my next two projects. My new series is Single Moms. Get ready to meet Sandara, Alexis, Mercedes, and Devereaux. Then there is my upcoming book, D.A.D.: A woman’s guide to choosing the right one. D.A.D. stands for “Dicks are Dumb.” Don’t believe me just read it.

  If you want to get and keep a man, ladies, you shouldn’t act like a lady (hopefully you’re already that) and think like a man (realistically you’ll never be one). Real women know the rela will last longer when you “act like a bitch and think like a dick.”

  The phenomenal people in my life lift me to higher heights. Marissa “Pynk” Monteilh is my bestest author friend and confidant. Kimberla Lawson Roby is the most consistent and caring author I know. Your support never wavers and I thank both of you for your authenticity.

  My son, Jesse Bernard Byrd Jr., is absolutely outstanding. Susan Mary Malone describes my son’s debut novel, Oiseau, as “brilliant!” I wholeheartedly agree. Jesse writes for adolescents and up. I continue to say, “God gave me the right child.” Jesse’s apparel, OiseauClothes.com, was promoted at an At Risk Youth charitable event with Tyler Perry and worn by Marlon Wayans, Chris Bosh, Jason Derulo, Kali Hawk, and a host of other celebrities. My son’s fiancée, Emaan Abbass, is a beautiful woman inside and out. I couldn’t have a better future daughter-in-law.

  Timothy Kees, I’m extremely proud of you. I’ve known you since you were four years old. Now you’re a branch manager at Wells Fargo, a grad student, and a homeowner. I pray for your continued blessings and success.

  While doing research for this novel, I stayed at Magic Johnson’s son’s Hotel ICON and Hotel ZaZa, both in Houston. I had the privilege of a private tour of the Texas State Capitol in Austin and the office of State Representative Harold V. Dutton Jr. by Rep. Dutton. Thanks for the love, my love.

  Dining at Corner Table, happy hour at Eddie V’s, a quick stop at 51Fifteen, a burger at Avalon Diner, jazz at the Red Cat Café, and drinks at Swagger, just to name a few of the places I enjoyed while in Houston, Texas. I love a man in a suit wearing cowboy boots. Thanks to all the wonderful people I met!

  Thanks to all my Facebook fans who came to support my venues across the country. To name a few, at the Decatur Book Festival: Bookworm Divas Book Club, LaLinda Hernandez, Charles Bailey, and Lawrence C. Newson (and wife).

  Much love and appreciation to my unmarried husband Richard C. Montgomery. I cannot thank you enough for your undying hospitality and unconditional friendship, man. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.

  Jack Manning, you’re the best photographer! Love, love, love all your pics. The photos are beautiful, thanks to Jennifer Ferriola, and Shiedah Williams, my personal make-up artist. Shay, my hair stylist. Ashley Gray, Marissa Monteilh’s make-up artist. Lindsay Rochelle Brown, make-up artist to my fans.

  I am eternally grateful to Phillip Rafshoon, Jullian Kuhns, Googie Daniels, Lisa Baron, Ella D. Curry, Stephanie Perry Moore and E. Missy Daniels (Delta Sigma Theta), Pearl Woolridge, Vera Warren-Williams, Yolanda Gore, Tira McDonald (UCAAB), and Brian Smith, for your support.

  To the Honorable Vanessa Gilmore, your assistance is forever greatly appreciated. Jason Griffin and Souleymane Bakayoto, thanks for your Southern hospitality. My special friend Dominique McClellan, I hope you outrun that bear in the woods. I wi
sh you the best in your acting, modeling, and singing career. See you at the top! Chad Bailey, bartender at Ted’s Montana Grill in Decatur, Georgia, you should consider modeling.

  I enjoyed hanging out in Atlanta with my sisters Margie Rickerson and Regina Morrison. My nephew Roland Morrison, thanks for being my personal assistant. My nephew Devin Barrett, I’m proud of you. Welcome to the family. My niece, Eboni Perry, it was a real blast seeing you in the ATL.

  My friend since third grade, Vanessa Ibanitoru, thanks for hanging. My earthly mother, Barbara Cooper, I love you. I’m eternally grateful to have lifetime friends: Felicia Polk, Vyllorya A. Evens, Marilyn Edge, Michela Burnett, Shannette Slaughter, Eve Lynne Robinson, and Carmen Polk.

  My mother, Elester Noel, wish I would’ve known you before God called you home. My father, Joseph Henry Morrison, thanks for the everlasting wisdom. It’s because of you that I keep it real. Thanks for getting it in before leaving out.

  My great-aunt, Ella Beatrice Turner, and my great-uncle, Willie Frinkle, reared me and for that I am truly blessed. Didn’t understand why my great-aunt was hard on me back then but I get it now. Thanks for the tough love!

  Wayne, Andrea, Derrick, and Regina Morrison, Margie Rickerson, Debra Noel, and Bryan Turner are my siblings. Thanks guys, I love you! Derrick, Dannette, Angela Lewis-Morrison, and Wanda Hutchinson, I’m sure I speak for the fam when I say, “Thanks for organizing our first Morrison Family Reunion. Looking forward to 2015.”

  I genuinely appreciate each and every one of my Facebook family, friends, and fans, my Twitter and Instagram followers, and my Mc-Donogh 35 Senior High alumni.

  Thanks to my editor and friend, Selena James at Kensington Publishing Corporation. To Steven Zacharius, Adam Zacharius, Laurie Parkin, Karen Auerbach, Adeola Saul, Lesleigh Irish-Underwood, and everyone at Kensington, thanks for growing my literary career.

  Well, what’s an author without brilliant agents? I’m fortunate to have two of the best agents in the literary business, Andrew Stuart and Claudia Menza. You are appreciated. Thanks to my attorneys, Kendall Minter, Esq., and Kenneth P. Norwick, Esq.

  On to the next. It’s Hollywood, baby! We are still preparing for the theatrical release of Soulmates Dissipate, the movie. I wish I could give you a behind-the-scenes breakdown of making a movie. I’ll have to blog about it at a later time. I thank everyone for working diligently on the project: Leslie Small, director/producer; Jeff Clanagan, CEO of Codeblack Entertainment; producer Dawn C Mallory; and Jesse Byrd Jr.

  Wishing each of my readers peace and prosperity in abundance. Visit me online at MaryMorrison.com, sign up for my HoneyBuzz newsletter. Join my fan page on Facebook at Mary-Honey-B-Morrison, follow me on Twitter @marybmorrison and Instagram at maryhoneybmorrison.

  This is novel #3 in the If I Can’t Have You series

  PROLOGUE

  Sindy

  Real women didn’t play childish games.

  One lie after another, she sabotaged her marriage. For that, I was not going to feel sorry for her. All the women who thought or had said, “She’s wrong for sleeping with another woman’s husband,” needed to keep it real, put the blame where it belonged, and attend to their guy before a confident woman like me took him from her. Scandalous females didn’t get empathy from me. And they sure as hell didn’t deserve to have a good man.

  No, I wasn’t a judge or the keeper of any woman’s unscrupulous behavior. No award had “Sindy Singleton is a thirty-year-old virgin” engraved on it. I wasn’t better than Madison Tyler because I valued my vagina. I was smarter.

  She was the one who’d accepted his ring, then reneged on her commitment and opened her legs for a loser during her engagement. She was the one who’d agreed to a stupid bet to have sex with her best friend’s ex. She was the one who got knocked up and wasn’t sure who the father was. I’d never make such a despicable decision.

  Surely her mother had told her that semen could slip through a crack or spill out the side of a condom. She had to know that, once a man ejaculated, sperm could wander aimlessly inside her pussy from three to five days, penetrate one of her eggs, and impregnate her.

  Nine months after she’d cheated, she gave birth to a light-skinned, eight-pound twenty-two inches, dark curly-haired boy. The paternity test documented the baby was for her husband. The kid’s gigantic hands and feet resembled the other guy’s.

  In my days of practicing law, I knew firsthand that the right amount of money bought unimaginable favors. After viewing the sex video her fling-thing presented in court, I sensed her baby was the result of her one-night stand with him. It didn’t matter what I thought about her, her husband loved that child so much he’d give a kidney, a rib, even lay down his life if it meant saving his illegitimate son.

  Vowing to be faithful to the most handsome eligible bachelor in all of Houston, Texas, she stood at the altar with a fetus in her stomach knowing it might not be his. She was nasty—in a devious manner. Her conniving ways had kept him trapped in her web. One day her luck would end. I’d make sure.

  In some countries, a woman like her would’ve been stoned to death.

  His filing for divorce was his first step toward our freedom to love one another. A marriage license was a privilege, not an entitlement to make someone’s life a living hell. Sure she had a cute face, big butt, and tiny waist that attracted him. From the strip clubs to the country clubs, Houston had a plethora of gorgeous women. I was in the upper echelon. In addition to my great looks, I was a wealthy single woman with no kids.

  New pussy may have excited her husband but at some point all pussy was new. The difference between hers and mine? Mine wasn’t used. If she’d given him mind-blowing orgasms, that might explain why he was spellbound. Despite her best efforts, her marriage was coming to an end . . . soon. Her husband had encountered a more seductive woman who was breaking his concentration.

  Most men suffered from ADDD−Attention Deficit–Dick Disorder. A classy lady with a hypnotic body, friendly smile, and magnetic personality could get any man’s attention. Keeping him focused was the challenge.

  Men didn’t need an incentive to cheat but when that jezebel gave her man a reason, his desire to fuck me was her problem, not mine.

  Her husband rightfully kicked her to the curb. I intended to make sure the trifling bitch stayed there.

  CHAPTER 1

  Sindy

  “When he walks in, you’ll walk out.”

  “Are you sure?” Nyle asked me after the prison guard closed the door to our private glass-enclosed room.

  We sat facing each other. The chill from the stainless steel chair made me sit on the edge of my seat. The rectangular-shaped metal table was cold enough to keep my favorite butter pecan ice cream from melting. Three feet of space separated us.

  I stared into his crystal-blue eyes as I said, “Help me get Granville Washington back behind bars and you’ll be discharged the same day he’s booked. The remaining two-and-a-half of your three-year sentence will be dismissed. You’ll be on a one-year probation with an officer that you’ll meet face-to-face one time. After that you’ll check in over the phone. A few people owe me favors. If you complete the assignment to my satisfaction, your early release is guaranteed.”

  Nyle sighed heavily. His neatly arched brows drew close together. His eyes darted to the left. He blinked. When he opened his eyes, they were intensely on me. Instantly, I became motionless.

  “I’ve already done what you’ve asked of me.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Not exactly my ass.” Veins protruded from his neck. His voice escalated in anger. “The outcome isn’t what either of us anticipated but I did my part. Now you want me to do you another favor? Fuck the money you paid me. I want out of here today.”

  That wasn’t happening. When we left this room, I was going home; he was headed back to his cell. I did not influence him to commit a crime. That was his choice. Helping him get out was mine.

  “What if what you want now isn’t what you expect l
ater? Then what? You walk away and leave me to do all of my time?”

  Precisely. In my mind, I nodded, but didn’t move my head. He had nothing to lose. I did. I needed him to calm down so he could focus on what was important to me.

  I softened my tone. “Fair enough. Regardless of what happens this time, I’ll keep my word.” Not sure if I were lying, I extended my hand and shook his. I had to tell Nyle what he needed to hear.

  Getting men to do whatever I wanted—with the exception of my father—that was my strength. Loving another woman’s husband was my weakness.

  Better for me to pursue the man I wanted than to allow my dad to arrange for my husband the way he’d done with Siara. I missed her. Skype was nice but I hadn’t seen my sister in person in twelve years. Her being sold by our father wasn’t my fault but she didn’t feel the same. Occasionally, she still says, “You are my big sister. You were supposed to protect me.” I think our father or her husband told her not to come back to America and not to let me visit her in Paris. I wasn’t sure how or when but one day we would reunite.

  Trust your gut instincts. That was how I lived. My word used to be a firm commitment. Since I was a little girl, when Sindy Singleton made a promise, I kept it. Truth or lie, right or wrong, my love for Roosevelt “Chicago” Dubois was gradually overruling my senses. Lately I’d been doing what was in my best interest. When things didn’t go my way, I didn’t hesitate to change my mind.

  This morning I’d smoothed back my long straight cinnamon hair and coiled it into a bun that sat at the nape of my neck. My cream-colored pants, which I only wore when I visited the Federal Detention Center, were loosely fitted. A simple short-sleeved matching blouse draped my hips. Comfortable leather flats clung to my feet. No lipstick. No perfume. No jewelry. My purse was in the trunk of my Bentley that I’d parked in a downtown lot a block away. My keys were secured in one of the small lockers in the lobby. My Texas driver’s license was left with the guard at the security entrance.