Just Can't Let Go Page 5

  I grabbed Alexis’s forearms. “Sis, please let her go. Charlotte, just try to keep still.”

  Someone had to remain calm. This was the second time these two had an altercation. I felt bad. The first time I didn’t know I was related to Alexis. I’d said Sis to let Charlotte know Alexis wasn’t my gurl. Bent over facing the floor, I doubted she’d caught that part.

  Last night when I approached Charlotte with her dude, I’d told her to be at my house in an hour. I went to Alexis’s, reassured her she had my support. This was serious. This kid’s DNA could be jacked up if I were the father.

  When I got home, Charlotte was waiting at my front door. Honestly, I didn’t expect her to show. Fake-ass apartment building’s security system. Charlotte had her ways of getting into places, especially into my heart. I’d let her in my spot. We had that wild and crazy breakup, makeup sex. Talked dirty to each other the entire time.

  A few hours ago my dick was down Charlotte’s throat, in her pussy. Her clit was in my mouth for about sixty minutes straight. Filled up on her secretions. I slid on a condom and went straight in her ass. We did all that. She rode me cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, she backed that ass up on me doggie-style. I spanked her real good. After working up a serious sweat, we’d dozed off. My dick and balls had become her pillow. She liked sleeping down there. Said the scent turned her on.

  I went to empty my canal and here I was. This time Alexis should not have come by unannounced. She was styling her usual, but this short halter mini with high heels was fresh. We were all in the kitchen that was right near my opened doorway. I wanted to shut it. Scared as hell to let go of Alexis for two seconds, I prayed no one passed by.

  Yes, Alexis was my sister. Yes, she might be pregnant, but we just had a conversation at her apartment—I glanced at the time on my microwave—nearly five hours ago. The reason she was here was obvious.

  I shouldn’t have told Alexis I was thinking about ending my relay with her mom, but I wasn’t doing that for her. Once I got back with Charlotte, I realized I missed her young, gorgeous, wild, and crazy ass. Okay, truthfully. My ego wanted to let dude know Charlotte’s pussy was mine always and forever and I could fuck her anytime I wanted.

  “You want to go to breakfast, Spencer?” Alexis asked as though she didn’t have my gurl’s hair on lock.

  This time I squeezed Alexis’s wrists so hard her fingers uncurled. I backed her up to the open door.

  Charlotte motioned for me to close the door in Alexis’s face. Alexis rushed in, snatched Charlotte’s hair again, dragged my gurl into the hallway. I swear I did not see that one coming.

  “Alexis, please. Let her go,” I yelled.

  Alexis shoved Charlotte’s head down. My gurl was bent over, again. Her titties pointed toward the floor. Her asshole was wide open. My dick and nuts were hanging low and swinging fast inside my sweats.

  “Bitch, let me go!” Charlotte cried.

  Alexis pulled harder. “You gon’ stop calling me out of my name.”

  This time I couldn’t blame the madness on Charlotte. Alexis’s fists were locked in at Charlotte’s scalp this time. She pulled. I tried to restrain her without hurting my ex any further. Thankfully, Alexis didn’t have her purse, which would’ve meant she would’ve had her gun. This tragedy could’ve turned homicidal.

  The door across the hall opened. I told my neighbor, “Don’t call the cops. I got this, man.” He nodded, then went back inside.

  Staring into Alexis’s eyes, I pleaded, “Sis, you can’t be fighting carrying a baby,” thinking that might convince her to let go of Charlotte’s long, beautiful, natural blond hair.

  Oh, shit! I prayed Alexis didn’t say it was mine. That would give Charlotte fuel to whup both Alexis and my ass.

  I didn’t want to do this, but my options were limited. Digging my nails into Alexis’s wrists, one finger at a time uncurled. I exhaled. I was relieved until I saw clumps of Charlotte’s luxurious hair falling to the floor.

  “What the fuck, Sis?!” I felt like shit. This was the second time I hadn’t protected Charlotte from Alexis.

  I hugged Charlotte, kissed the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  Charlotte looked up to me, cried on my chest. I held her closer.

  Alexis shouted, “You’re taking up for that bitch?”

  Charlotte stopped sniffling, looked up at me. Her eyes were blood red. Her lids narrowed, lips tightened. She turned to Alexis.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  “Charlotte, no!” She’d popped off three quick punches to Alexis’s face like an alter ego of Laila Ali kicked in.

  Couldn’t say good gurl, Charlotte, but I wanted to. Alexis grabbed her head and stomach, then fell to the floor and started crying. Charlotte backed into my apartment. All I thought about was Alexis and the baby. Thankfully, Charlotte hadn’t hit Alexis below the breasts.

  “Charlotte, go to my bedroom, baby. Now.” She moved from the entrance to the kitchen. Stood there.

  I needed to make sure Alexis was okay, but I was not letting her back in.

  Alexis moaned really loud, “Our baby.”

  Why the fuck she do that shit? I went to the kitchen, got my cell, dialed 911. “Oh, shit!”

  Charlotte rushed Alexis. I dropped my phone. Charlotte had Alexis by the hair.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop kneeing her in the stomach!” I snatched Charlotte, shoved her into my apartment. “Get your shit and get the fuck out!”

  Charlotte stomped to the bedroom, returned dressed. Her purse was on her shoulder. “Bitch, you fucked with the wrong one. Don’t turn your back, you nasty bitch. I ain’t done.”

  Angrily, I said, “We are done and yes, you are, Charlotte. You’d better pray she doesn’t lose this baby or we’re going to have you arrested.”

  She told me, “Try it.” Then she said to Alexis, “And yes, your mama is a ho and you are, too, bitch. I’m not crazy. All that sis bullshit. I know that’s your baby, Spencer. Fuck both of y’all.”

  The sex was phenom, but it’d clouded my judgment with getting back with Charlotte. Had to let her go after this showdown. I watched her walk away for the last time. Any woman who kicked another in the stomach knowing there was a baby inside was certifiably mental. I didn’t want Charlotte anywhere near me again.

  All I did was shake my head. I’d never hit a woman, but this shit right here made we want to beat Charlotte’s ass.

  I went inside, got my phone, keys, and wallet, and locked my door. Stuffed everything in my pocket. I placed my arm under my sister’s knees, the other behind her back. “Hold on.”

  “Okay,” Alexis said.

  When she coughed, a little blood spilled from her mouth. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help but shed a tear.

  Charlotte came back toward us.

  “If you’re coming back for more, Charlotte, you’re going to have to—”

  Scooping up her hair, she said, “I’m going back to my other dude. Don’t you ever contact me again in your life.” Then she rolled her eyes at me and left.

  Wanted to say, take your ass on, ho! But that would’ve started another fight. Ole dude could have my sloppy seconds. I was done with her trifling ass.

  I carried Alexis to my car. Piedmont Hospital was less than a mile away south on Peachtree Street. Helping my sister into the emergency room, I reassured her, “You and the baby are going to be okay. I got you.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Devereaux

  “Thanks for believing in me.”

  This was the type of emotional transparency that bonded me to Phoenix early in our relationship four years ago. He was different from most men in Atlanta. I passed on the guys who were chauvinistic. Self-centered. Showed no respect for intelligent women. Openly had more than one woman simply because they could.

  Last night my fiancé had picked up our daughter from his mother’s house, gone to Publix grocery, come home, and cooked his favorite dinner for the family. The grilled snapper with asparagus was delicious.


  This morning he’d prepared a nice brunch with French toast, fresh strawberries, smoked salmon omelets, and blueberry smoothies. Nya and I cleaned the kitchen, then our daughter went upstairs.

  “You’re the best, babe,” I told him, putting the china plates in the cabinet.

  His response, while texting on his cell at the same time, “I know you have to write, I’ll be in the living room watching television.”

  Unlike some men, Phoenix respected my insane schedule. If I weren’t on set, I was at home penning pages. I went upstairs, worked on my new series, Notches. In the mood to share quality time with my fiancé, I shut down my computer.

  I peeped in Nya’s room. “You okay, princess?”

  “I wanna go to T-Cedes.”

  “Okay, sweetie. But not today. Daddy and I are taking you to the aquarium later,” I said. “You need to take a nap.”

  Shaking her head, Nya said, “Brandy wants to go.”

  “Nap, Nya. Now.”

  Closing her door, I texted Mercedes, Leave it to my daughter, Brandy would move in with us. Mercedes’s twins, Brandy and Brandon, were almost twice Nya’s age. My sister Sandara’s sons and daughter were closer to Nya’s age, but Mercedes spoiled my daughter so much I wished I were my sister’s child.

  She texted back, Of course. I’ll have her ready. What time?

  Wanting to chill with my man for a few hours, I replied, 4p.

  I got a bottle of champagne, added canned sliced peaches to my flute. “Hey, you,” I said.

  Cozying up to Phoenix, I shared the love seat. The indoor water fountain flowed down the wall of stones behind us. I picked up the sound system remote, turned on smooth jazz, went to the kitchen, snagged a second bottle of bubbly, and then cuddled with my man. Depending on how much we indulged, our taking Nya might turn into Mercedes chaperoning the girls.

  I had tons of unfinished business that would have to wait until tomorrow. Once we start filming, I’d barely have time to tend to my own needs.

  Picking up my phone, I noticed it was noon. I powered it off. The next eighteen hours were exclusively for Phoenix and Nya.

  “Seriously, Dev. Thanks for believing in me.”

  I told my man, “You don’t have to keep saying that.”

  The first. The second. The third, fourth, even fifth time I’d heard him say that was cool. I’d lost count of how many times my fiancé had credited me since my agreeing to his managing Ebony. Positive reinforcement was what couples were supposed to give each other.

  Phoenix had been excited all day. I was, too, since Ebony had gotten her act together. I wasn’t surprised she’d given approval to let Phoenix manage her. Secretly, I’d hoped her husband would’ve objected to having my man oversee Ebony’s career.

  Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Phoenix having a valid reason to be on my set on a regular basis. The fact that the director, Trés Vinsaunt, was interested in dating me wasn’t my concern. I’d never remotely shown interest in another man since I began dating Phoenix.

  Business was always my focus. Being a bitch with my staff and cast when necessary, I did not hesitate. Maybe Trés enjoyed witnessing that dominating part of my personality. Men loved bitches like my sister Alexis. That was why Ebony was perfect for her role. I never wanted her to hold back.

  Alexis tried to convince me to give her the part of Ebony Waterhouse. I refused for two reasons. One, she’s family, and family felt they were entitled to privileges not given to others. Two, my sister was slick, flip, cute, but she was not a trained actor. The latter could be rectified. I’d told her, my show was scripted like reality. It was not reality.

  I sipped my champagne. “This is delicious, babe.”

  I preferred cabernet. Phoenix liked Mumm’s brut.

  Phoenix placed his strong hand at the base of my neck. Meeting me halfway, he pulled me closer, kissed my lips. His tongue circled around mine. He suctioned the peach out of my mouth.

  “Not nearly as delicious as you,” he said, eating my fruit.

  Having to check Phoenix in front of my staff or hold my comments until we got home was already concerning me. I didn’t want to bring that kind of drama inside our peaceful home. I prayed that things would work out for the best. If it got too hectic, I could politely ask him to leave the studio.

  The way he admired me with his deep brown eyes made my heart beat for him. I removed his frameless, rectangular-shaped glasses, placed them on the table behind the sofa. The black skull cap he wore over his shadow low-fade cut gave him that artist appeal. Phoenix never wore T-shirts or jeans. Casual or dressy, he had tons of long and short-sleeved button-ups and slacks in almost every color.

  “I do have to thank you, Dev. You’re making my dream come true. You just gave me the green light to your hottest rising star. Ebony is going to make us a lot of money, babe. This is the start of . . .” His eyes grew with excitement. “Um, um, um.”

  “Um, um, um, what?”

  He rubbed his brow, held my hand. “I’m going after all the A-list actors. TV. Film. All that.”

  “Well, don’t pitch for anyone else associated with SSC.” I wasn’t asking. “Ebony is in your hands. She’s going to potentially make you a lot of money,” I said, not wanting him feeling as though what was mine was his. Plus, whenever a person paid another, the one getting a check seldom made more than the person signing the check.

  I did lots of things for Phoenix, but blending assets was not happening until after he signed a prenuptial and said, “I do.” For once it would feel good to have my man take me on an all-expense-paid vacation. I’d never complained about his limited resources. I understood how hard it was for him, but four years was long enough. Just because I made more money didn’t mean he had to let me pay for all of our pleasure.

  I was twenty-eight. He was thirty. He’d better make branding Ebony work well. I was getting weary from carrying him.

  He placed his glass beside his eyeglasses. “But you, babe. I admire you. You’re the best mom, fiancée, friend. Not to mention brilliant.” Phoenix stood. “You blowin’ up, Dev. You the man,” he said, bowing toward me three times with his palms faced down.

  I hated patronization. I put the capital T in our team. We both knew that. I was not looking for accolades. I’d prefer his partnership on every level.

  Picking up his drink, he sat and then continued. “You work too hard, baby. It’s time for you to take a break and lean on me from now on.”

  Seriously? I felt my skin crawl with agitation. What exactly did he mean? Two days out from filming the series and I’m supposed to do what? Turn down because he’s got this.

  He held his glass up high. “Cheers.”

  Can we wait until the signature on the contract dries and the first payment clears his bank account? False promises, bounced checks. One thing I’d learned was not to prematurely count my money.

  “Who’s handling your legal contract, babe?” That was where his focus should be.

  “I’ll figure that out,” he said casually.

  “I have Goldie’s personal information. I can ask Kendall Minter to do the draft. How much are you charging her?”

  His brows drew closer together. Lips twisted to the side. “Hmm.”

  My shoulders and head flopped. “You have no idea how much you’re going to charge her?” I asked, suctioning a long, slow intake of my drink.

  “I was trying to think of what was fair. Maybe two grand a month.”

  Champagne almost flew from my mouth into his. I swallowed. “Are you afraid to request what you’re worth, babe?”

  He hunched his shoulders. “Ten a month? Is that too much? I don’t want to scare her off. You’re paying her eight hundred thou. Maybe I should tell her I want ten percent of her salary.”

  Here we go again. Bright ideas. Clueless on the details. Dreams. No plan. You do not request a percentage of a person’s revenue if you didn’t negotiate a deal for her in advance. I disclosed her pay to him in confidence.

 
“Don’t let her know you’re aware of how much she’s getting paid. You’ll figure out what to request. Start higher than what you expect to get, but don’t be outrageous. Let me know if I can be of assistance.” I’d decided to stay out of his business unless he came to me.

  “After we get back from our outing, babe, I’m having drinks with the fellas to bring them up to speed on my new company.”

  Smacking my lips, I sighed. Even with his boys, no celebration was sensible at this point. Phoenix had my support. Ebony was my concern. Regardless of how things progressed, my lips were shut. I was generous with him as my fiancé. He would never survive sitting across from me as an adversary.

  Women had a way of changing directions faster than men. Underneath a pretty face, inside a sexy smile, cloaked in an attractive physique, shrewd businesswomen could be cutthroat champions.

  My man didn’t know the behind-the-scenes gritty details. I’d clawed—wicked witch pointed nails screeching against a chalkboard—to earn a spot for my show. I definitely had a few foes who’d love to see me fail. I didn’t play games, but I had fight in me that Phoenix had never seen. Ebony had best not try anything shady. If she did, that was the only way I’d intervene. The one thing Phoenix wasn’t doing was working for free.

  The longer I gazed at the handsome, vulnerable, somewhat naïve man before me, his innocence filled me with fear and love. Enough of being on this couch. My pussy was tipsy. I wanted to feel him penetrate my body. Give me a head-to-toe orgasm. Hadn’t had one in . . . damn. It’s been that long? I hated to ask Mercedes to pick up Nya. I’d promised my baby we’d take her to the aquarium. Now I see why it’s been so long. I kept putting my pussy’s royal treatment on pause. That was my fault.