The One I've Waited For Page 4

  Hearing the title Mrs. almost made me cry wishing that were true. Getting involved with any man before having closure with my ex wasn’t wise. A clean emotional reset was what I wanted.

  “I’m not married,” I replied. Entering 582512 to unlock my phone, I redirected my attention to him.

  Handsome stared at the engagement ring on my finger, then looked into my eyes. “If you’re honestly available and would like to get together, here’s my card. I’d love to take you out.”

  The Antonio Marino? Film producer extraordinaire, I thought, staring at his name. I wanted to hug him! He appeared taller and definitely more attractive than the photos on his IMDb page. My heartbeat quickened. I had to take a deep breath.

  Composing myself, I said, “I’ll have my assistant contact your office.”

  “My interest is personal. Use my direct number. Please.”

  What would my wild and crazy sister Alexis do? The fortune she’d inherited from her deceased father made that girl the worse millionaire I’d ever known. I didn’t want to come across disinterested or disrespectful.

  “Nice meeting you,” I replied. “I’ll text you my number.” If he was really interested, he could contact me.

  Success without a love interest wasn’t what I wanted. I’d come here hoping to find the strength to make a final decision to call it quits with my daughter’s father. Maybe unexpectedly meeting Antonio was the answer.

  “Hey, darling. Glad you made it. How was your flight? We’re seated in the private booth next to the chef’s kitchen,” a beautiful bubbly woman said, then escorted Antonio across the dining area while jiggling her booty.

  Bright and bouncy wasn’t my personality but when did I stop being happy? I questioned if I’d done the right thing by kicking my man out of my house. I was a Libra woman and my life was eighty percent work, twenty percent everything else, which included sleep.

  Phoenix was supposed to be my balance. I tried to let him lead. That hadn’t worked well with my Capricorn ex, who was full of get-rich-quick-the-easy-way ideas.

  Silencing the monologue in my head, I could no longer ignore Mercedes frantically waving from across the room. She was seated in the corner at the bar. The only available stool was the one she’d reserved for me next to the crimson brick wall.

  “Hey, Sis,” I said, greeting her with open arms.

  She hung her purse on the hook beneath the counter. Sliding out my chair, I placed my bag next to hers.

  Touching my cheek, she commented, “Your skin needs moisture. Don’t let yourself go. He’s not worth it.”

  I hadn’t seen my sister as much since the night her private detective drove me to the house of my star actress. From secretly duplicating every key on Phoenix’s ring to discovering one of them fit the front door of his side’s home, Dakota Justice was the best at tracking cheating men.

  Exhaling, it felt good to sit still for a moment. I told my sister, “I’m glad you could meet on such short notice.”

  “Bartender.” Mercedes snapped her fingers twice. “Two glasses of your best. Cayman cabernet. Make that a bottle.” Facing me, she held my hand. “No need to ask how you’re doing. You look a hot mess. Who was the guy you walked in with?”

  Insults were not what I needed. I sniffled, then blinked repeatedly, fighting to keep a flood of tears from gushing onto my blouse. Telling Mercedes who Antonio was wouldn’t remove the daggers she’d helped Dakota put in my heart.

  “I’m no superwoman like you.” That was the truth. I wanted my man to come back home. Sleep beside me at night. Wanted to put my family back together.

  If I hadn’t entered Ebony’s house using the duplicate key Dakota had made, hadn’t heard Ebony and my fiancé fucking upstairs, hadn’t witnessed her shouting for my man to call her a bitch, hadn’t heard him say it, hadn’t found my baby Nya asleep downstairs in one of Ebony’s bedrooms by herself... Lawd, Jesus!

  “Oh, dear,” Mercedes exclaimed. “Let’s switch seats.”

  Hadn’t realized the tears I struggled not to release were streaming down my cheeks as I faced all the patrons at the bar. Several sets of eyes were on me. Thank God no one pointed their cell phone at me.

  Not bothering to dry my face, I said, “Sure,” now looking at the brick wall.

  “I’ve been here since four because I didn’t want to go home to Benjamin.”

  Four hours? Really? “I find that hard to believe.”

  “You shouldn’t. You know I can relate,” my sister said, meshing her side with the edge of the oak wood trim.

  No, she could not. I’m forgiving. My sister wasn’t. Phoenix Henry-Watson wasn’t the perfect fiancé. Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know before hiring Dakota. Wish he wasn’t my ex-fiancé. My sister’s husband, Benjamin, had his faults but he took excellent care of his kids. Phoenix was a good dad, too, but sexing my star actress? Why? Shaking my head, I wondered how he could have done that to me after all I’d provided for him.

  The bartender poured a splash in the wineglass, handed it to Mercedes. She sipped, gargled, swallowed, then nodded. He filled our glasses halfway.

  A guy approached my sister, handed her a gift bag, then left. Sitting the shiny white bag on the counter next to a small wooden keg, Mercedes continued, “He’s a dog, Devereaux. He needs to be neutered. Stop soaking, honey.” Handing me a square paper napkin, she commanded, “Dry your face.”

  Was chastising me my sister’s way of coping with her marital disaster? Mercedes refused to accept her husband having a mistress. Said she was teaching him a lesson by withholding sex. Gave him an ultimatum and where was he laying his heads at night? Not beside her.

  The harsh realities of man-sharing in Atlanta made me want to go get my man from wherever he was. Picking up her gift bag, I inquired, “Who was that and what is this?”

  The guy appeared to be about six feet. The short-sleeved fitted shirt exposed his hard biceps. His stomach was flat, ass sat high. Flawless skin. I needed to get laid soon.

  “That’s my new personal assistant slash trainer. I’m about to get all the way fit.” She winked at me. “Benjamin stepped out on his mistress today with a stripper.”

  Shaking my head, I couldn’t believe it. “You’re still having him followed?”

  Mercedes nodded. “If he wants her, I’m taking every dime he’s got. This is my husband’s newest favorite perfume, Tori Burch. End of discussion.”

  Frowning, I asked, “Are you having—”

  “Having an affair with the guy that left?” Leaning closer Mercedes whispered, “Not yet,” then licked her lips.

  That was certainly a response Alexis would give. “Have you spoken with Mom?” I asked, wondering what Antonio looked like naked. He seemed hairy.

  “When Mom isn’t working, all she does is spend time with her new conquest, Bing, and that spoiled Yorkie, KingMaxB.” Mercedes twirled the edges of her jumbo spiraled afro.

  Normally her hair was smoothed, pulled back, and she’d have on black framed glasses that didn’t have a prescription. The neutral colored lipstick was replaced by a peachy matte. There was something illuminating about her attitude.

  In Mom’s defense, I had to say, “I’m happy for her. After having to raise the four of us by herself, she deserves a mature man like Bing. He’s more suited to her than Spencer.”

  “She needs to have Dakota do a background check on—”

  I had to interrupt with, “Don’t you dare ruin her life the way you’ve done mine.”

  The wine goblet hadn’t rested five minutes before I picked mine up and dragged a long sip. My sister didn’t touch hers.

  “Hmm,” was all she said.

  Glancing to my left, I tried to shield my disgust with her forever interfering in other people’s situations. “I haven’t eaten all day. Bartender, let us have a Haven Truffled Potato Hay.”

  “Half order,” Mercedes insisted.

  “I—”

  Interrupting me, Mercedes said, “I know that look.” Sternly she gr
ipped my hand again. “You’ll be okay.”

  How did she know? This chick just didn’t get it. I tried to wash away the lump in my throat. Swallowing the last mouthful of wine I glanced over my shoulder to see that Antonio was still at the private booth with bright and bubbly. His back was to me. She laughed in my direction. I scanned Haven’s crystal wine rack that was filled with bottles from the ceiling to the floor. Facing Mercedes, I inhaled leaning my elbow on the bar.

  Mercedes’s eyes darted around the room. I recognized that mask. Squinting, a single sympathetic tear fell from her left eye. She wasn’t as tough as she portrayed. What she didn’t know was I struggled to keep from telling her how I really felt fearing her insensitivity would make me erupt like a volcano.

  Suppressing my emotions, I had to numb my pain. I asked, “Bartender, can you refill my glass? Please and thank you.” I felt I’d been at the bar for hours yet I’d sat down less than thirty minutes ago.

  Hot air escaped Mercedes’s mouth. I held my breath. Fanned the space in front of me. “Stop that.”

  She laughed. I didn’t understand what was funny. As I watched my sister lean closer, she lamented, “He’s no good for you or to you, Devereaux. You’ve got to euthanize that lying, cheating, mangy mutt of yours. He fucked your lead actress while your daughter was in the bed downstairs, for God’s sake.”

  “Nya was asleep. It wasn’t at our house. I—”

  Hissing again, I pinched her nose this time. “I don’t want to inhale your frustrations. I have my own,” I said, letting go.

  I wanted to add that I’d gotten Nya out of Ebony’s house before my daughter had awakened. What Nya didn’t know hadn’t hurt her.

  “You will appreciate my help. My private detective is still on his trail. If you’re thinking about taking him back, and I know you are, I’ll have Dakota give you an update on Phoenix’s indiscretions. He still has the key to Ebony’s place. Bet you didn’t know that.”

  Staring up at the flat screen above Mercedes’s head, I should’ve asked, Where’s your husband? Instead, I told her, “He’s not a dog. He’s the father of my child. No matter how many keys or women he has, I can’t change the fact that he’ll always be around.” If my sister wanted to waste her money spying on my ex, so be it.

  “Stop pretending Phoenix did not . . .” She paused, then snapped her fingers twice and commanded the bartender, “Menus. Two. Now.”

  “Don’t act as though you don’t know why Benjamin is sleeping at his mistress’s house every damn night. You’re not only bossy. You’re disrespectful. That man behind the bar is not your goddamn servant!”

  People at the bar clapped, making me aware that my voice was above room tone. Mercedes’s eyes scanned from the front door, along the entire bar, then locked with mine. I hated making a scene but Little Miss Perfect never knew when to take her foot off of anyone’s neck. Thankfully, the lights at the bar dimmed. The softness of one of the acorn-shaped chandeliers glowed between us.

  Placing both menus in front of me, the bartender said, “Thank you for telling her what I was about to.”

  I watched my sister’s lips transform to a tight, sinister grin. Mercedes quietly picked up a menu but not before rolling her eyes at the bartender. Loud enough for nearby diners to hear, she retorted, “He applied for a job taking orders. He shouldn’t be offended when he’s told what to do. Changing the conversation. You never answered me. Who’s the man you walked in with?”

  I’d asked her to meet me. That meant I wanted to discuss something of importance in my life. Discomfort set in, as I turned sideways in my seat wondering if Antonio would disassociate himself from me if he’d overheard Mercedes’s last condescending comment. She’d already damaged one relationship.

  Confronting my sister, I asked, “Why do you care whom I walked in with?” If I gave her a chance, she was sure to ruin my getting to know Antonio.

  “Darling, his posture, designer suit, hairless face, rugged chest, speaks volume. He’s a man worth dating and bedding.”

  Shaking my head, I answered, “Maybe,” then added, “I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “I’m considering consulting with him on my new project. It’s a documentary with all women and I want all females to work on this.”

  Mercedes’s eyes grew larger than I’d ever seen. She gasped. Anticipating her exhale, I held my breath. Her breasts thrust forward.

  “Don’t you dare,” I said.

  Pressing her lips together, I heard the breath escape her nostrils as she begged, “He’s a man. Men are worthless. You know this. He can’t be your consultant. You’ve got to include me on this project.”

  Back to Mercedes’s world, I refused to concede on my masterpiece. “It’s unlike anything on television. I’m praying this project elevates me to the big screen.”

  She popped her long, skinny fingers in the air back-to-back-to-back. “Champagne! Your best! Now!” was followed by two more snaps toward me. “Devereaux!” She hugged me. “See what you can accomplish when you don’t have a deadbeat weighing you down. We don’t have time to think about Phoenix what’s-his-last-name. That’s right . . . Hound Dog, Dirty Dog, Filthy Dog.” Tilting her head back, she laughed as it bumped against the wall.

  I didn’t consider any of what she’d said humorous. My cell rang. Phoenix’s photo appeared. Mercedes snatched my phone. Placed the call on speaker.

  “Devereaux is busy coming up. Go poke a ho, you lying loser.”

  The room tone at the bar lowered. Embarrassed, I refused to turn around. Continuing the conversation, softly I said, “Hey, Phoenix. What’s up?”

  Normally I’d call him babe. Not anymore. He was what he’d become to me though I didn’t want to admit it. My daughter’s father was a real deadbeat.

  “I want to see Nya tonight,” he said.

  “She has plans.”

  That was the truth. My baby was at my other sister Sandara’s place.

  Nya had recently turned three. I was hurting too much to let him come to her birthday party last week and watch him pretend he was the world’s most amazing dad. His mom was there. Mrs. Etta Henry-Watson pleaded with me to let her keep Nya while I worked.

  Long as Phoenix was under his mama’s roof, I couldn’t let Nya visit. Teaching our daughter it was okay for a man to leech off of his mother was wrong. He was supposed to be our child’s role model. Phoenix’s poor judgment, sexing a woman while he was supposed to be watching our child, made me believe the second his mother left the house, he’d sex women while our daughter was with him. I refused to be the same fool twice.

  “Don’t make me beg. Dev, please,” he whined.

  “Please what? Nya isn’t going to be home, you idiot. Try showing up at a decent hour.” Mercedes said what I couldn’t.

  I took the call off speaker. My sister rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

  Phoenix didn’t want to see our daughter. He wanted to get back in my good graces. He didn’t value the lifestyle I’d afforded him when we were together in my five-thousand-square-foot five-bedroom home. His good dick didn’t contribute to a single mortgage payment the three years he lived with me. Learning he’d been fucking Ebony Waterhouse aka Goldie Jackson the past two years made me want to end the call.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked him.

  “I’ve got to hear this,” my sister said, leaning close to my ear.

  Because he’d put a ring on my finger, I’d moved him in, paid all the bills while he regurgitated false promises heaped on top of more lies. Everything he’d told me was bait to keep me holding on to what? For what? Asking me to hire his fuck buddy hurt me the worst. When he brought that bitch to me on a silver platter, he’d already eaten her pussy.

  The one opportunity I’d given him to manage the lead actress in my now number one television series, Sophisticated Side Chicks ATL, thanks to Mercedes I discovered that bastard was a dog.

  “Dev−”

  Cutting him off, I suctioned in my churning sto
mach. “My name is Devereaux.”

  Phoenix’s voice escalated, “Please, Dev! Just hear me out. Let me come over tonight. It’ll be like old times. Just the two of us and I can explain.”

  I wondered how many other women he’d sexed during our relationship. Had he used protection to protect me?

  Mercedes took my hand, placed the microphone to her mouth, told Phoenix, “We’ll see you at ten o’clock sharp. Leave the overnight bag at your mama’s house,” then ended the call.

  I looked at my sister. “Thanks.”

  Mercedes said, “Bet he’ll show up with an empty heart and a hard dick. He probably wants to knock you up again. Don’t be like your lil sis.”

  Sandara had three babies and no husband.

  “I’m telling you, Devereaux. Whatever you do, don’t have sex with that pathetic excuse for a man. He’s your kryptonite.”

  Sometimes I wish I was strong as her. What was Mercedes’s weakness? I wanted to see Phoenix. Wondered if I would love or hate him when I stared into his eyes. Or if my heart would feel the way it felt now.

  Numb.

  CHAPTER 6

  Sandara

  “Nya, Tyrell, Ty, Tyson. It’s bedtime, you guys.” The kids were seated on the floor in my living room in front of the television.

  Nya looked dead-on Phoenix but had her mother’s long, curly hair. She skipped to the rear of my small two-bedroom apartment, returned, then handed me a purple silk scarf. “Tie me up,” she said, turning her back to me.

  Smoothing the edges of both braids, I felt sorry for my niece and her mom. After Devereaux put Phoenix out, poor Nya slept over with whatever family member could keep her and she had to stay on set with my sister during the day.

  “I’m thirsty, Mama,” my three-year-old whined. Tyrell had light brown skin like his father.

  I wanted to have my tubes tied like my sister Mercedes told me but a part of me wanted to get married and have my husband’s baby the way Mercedes had done.

  Checking the time on my cell, it was eight thirty. Tyrell’s bladder must’ve been the size of a golf ball. Any liquids after seven and that child would pee a puddle on my mattress by morning.