Let Me Love You (McClain Brothers Book 1) Page 6

  Me: Damn! It was just last night!

  Bridgette: And that’s when your ass should’ve spilled the tea! How was it?

  Me: Good. Great. Wonderful. He’s nice. Really sweet.

  Bridgette: Awwww (Heart eyes emoji) Did he kiss you again?

  Me: Yep. Got another date with him today, too. Lunch.

  Bridgette: What?!?!?!?!?!?! Damn, Jo! He’s really feeling you! I hope y’all fall in love and get married and shit. That’d kill Sid’s dumb ass.

  Me: You stupid. Gotta get to work. Call you later.

  Bridgette: You better!

  I shook my head, stuck my cell in my purse, and buried my face in my sketchpad for the next hour. I wasn’t the best artist, but I was decent, and I was feeling the butterfly designs I was coming up with off the top of my head. So deep was I into my work that I barely noticed when Shirl returned, and the sound of her filing away at something didn’t bother me. When a knock came at the door, I didn’t even flinch.

  “Come in!” Shirl shouted.

  “There she is.” I recognized Freda’s voice but didn’t look up until I heard her say, “Jo, these fellows have a delivery for you.”

  Tearing my eyes away from my work, I frowned when I saw only Freda in the doorway. Before I could ask her who she was talking about, a man walked in and handed me a huge vase of what looked to be two dozen red roses. My mouth dropped open when another man entered the small office and placed another vase, this one holding yellow roses, at my feet. The third guy brought pink roses that Shirl quickly made room on her work station for. The three guys left and came back with more roses until Shirl’s office was nearly overtaken with twenty huge vases full of the flowers, the last of which held a card that read:

  Thanks for sharing your time with me last night. Can’t wait to see you at lunch. - Everett

  I was staring at the card, my heart beating furiously, when Shirl said, “So, I take it you have an admirer?”

  I looked up at her, feeling my cheeks heat up. “It would seem so. I’m so sorry about this. You can barely move around in here.”

  She grinned. “Girl, I’m fine. Just happy for you. I hope you’re going to give whoever he is a chance.”

  “Oh, I am. I’m meeting him for lunch.”

  “Good!”

  “Yeah, but what am I going to do with all these flowers?” I sighed. I was flattered, but also a little overwhelmed.

  “I’ll help you load your car up this evening. You don’t need to be worrying about that. Just get your mind right for this lunch date so my old man-less ass can live through you.”

  I shook my head, wondered if I should text Everett to thank him, then decided to do so in person.

  *****

  Dunn met me at the door, as expected. No smirk on his face this time, but rather a look of irritation. I didn’t know what that was about and didn’t care. I wasn’t there to see him, I was there to see his boss. I stepped into the suite to see a table set up with cloche-covered plates, glasses of water, and a beautiful centerpiece of assorted flowers at the far end of the massive space. Glancing around the empty room, I wondered if it would be appropriate to call his name or if I should just wait. Or maybe I could text him and let him know I was there…or I could knock on the suite’s bedroom door. Or—

  The bedroom door opened, and out he walked wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt along with a pair of his own South sneakers. His dreads were loose, his molded features just as beautiful as ever; a bright smile was on his face that made me feel like I was the answer to his prayers. It probably only took him four steps to cross the room and wrap me in a hug that was so warm and snuggly, all I could do was close my eyes and inhale his scent. He smelled so good, too good. What was this? How could I be so drawn to a man I barely knew outside of his public persona?

  “Jo,” he breathed in my ear.

  I leaned into him and smiled, sighing lightly.

  He held me tightly for another moment or two and then backed away a bit. I had to fight not to grab him and pull him back to me.

  “You smell good,” he murmured, his smile replaced by a smoldering look as his gaze rose from my lips to my eyes.

  “Thank you, and thanks for the roses…all of them.”

  The smile reappeared. “You got them? Good. You like them?”

  “Yes, I really do. That was so sweet of you.”

  “You’re welcome. I know it was a lot of them, but I couldn’t decide on a color, and the more I thought about you, the more I decided you deserved all the colors, then I was like…you deserve all the roses they had in the place. So I bought all of them.”

  “All of them? Really? Wow, that’s…you know, I’ve never been given flowers before. Ever.”

  He gestured toward one of the chairs at the table, and said, “I can’t believe that. Are you serious?”

  I nodded as he pulled the chair out for me. “I am.”

  “Wow.”

  He watched me sit and get settled in my seat then took the chair across from me. “So, I just ordered a couple of club sandwiches and fries. Something light. Then I thought, shit, I should’ve let you order your own food. So if that’s not okay with you, I can order up something else. It’s whatever you want.”

  I lifted the cloche, and my eyes grew wide at the sight of the quadruple-decker, loaded sandwich cut in quarters. It looked and smelled delicious. “No, I think I’m good.”

  He gave me what seemed to be a relieved smile. “Great. Hey, I’m glad to see you again. I was almost scared you wouldn’t show up.”

  He was…scared? “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Oh, you know. The whole Sheena thing, you hating my music, the fact that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, and then I’m so much older than you. When you were telling me how long you’ve been in LA, and I started doing the math in my head, I realized we’re like nine years apart. I thought you might’ve been older than you are. Not that you look older, but you know…you can never tell with a black woman. Y’all are age-defying and…damn, now my ass is rambling. Guess I’m the one who’s nervous today.”

  I nearly choked on my sandwich, coughed so hard that he jumped up and almost broke my spine hitting me on my back. I grabbed his arm, coughed a few more times, and said, “I’m good. You’re gonna paralyze me if you keep trying to help me. You’re heavy-handed as hell!”

  He gave me a sheepish grin as he reclaimed his seat. “My bad. You good, though?”

  “Yeah, yeah…I’m just sitting here wondering if you’re out of your mind.”

  His eyebrows nearly met. “Huh?”

  “I was a fan of yours, Everett. I have followed you for years. I follow you on Instagram, see the way you live, the places you get to visit, and like I said before, the women you’ve been with. And you’re nervous about being around a girl from Alabama who ain’t got nothing going for her but alimony and child support? I don’t even have a real career. I’m in training!”

  “Was a fan?”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s all you got from what I just said? Really? You truly are just a regular guy.”

  “I never said otherwise.”

  I shook my head and looked down at the gargantuan sandwich I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish. Then I took another bite of it.

  “Look, I’ve been with…a few women. I have, but I didn’t pursue anything serious with them. They were just something to do. I know that sounds fucked up, but it’s true. And honestly, I was the same thing to them. I want more than that with you. And as far as you not having anything going for you…shit, all I see is a woman who speaks her mind, is fearless, and is pursuing a dream all while being a single mother. You got a lot going for you, Jo, and you are attractive as hell, intimidatingly attractive.”

  “Well…thanks.”

  “You have trouble accepting compliments, huh?”

  I shrugged. He was making me feel…hell, I don’t know. Tingly?

  “Back to you used to be a fan?”

  “Oh, yeah. You
lost me with that conceptual album. What was it called? The one with the cover art you could only see under a black light?”

  “You talking about Southbound?”

  “Yeah, that one. Too far, bruh. The music was totally off the wall and the beats were whack. That shit made no sense. It was like you were just saying whatever was on your mind, some strange stream-of-consciousness stuff.”

  He scoffed. “Are you serious? That’s some of my best work!”

  I shook my head. “No, you were bored and tried something different. I mean, I get it. You’ve been in the business forever, so I can understand you getting bored. Hell, I have a touch of ADD, so I can get bored in a second. You tried it, but it was bad, Everett. Baaaaad.”

  “Bad? That motherfucker went double platinum!” He was actually getting upset, and it was kind of hot.

  “Oh, that was the Beyoncé effect.”

  “The what? Now you gon’ hate on Bey?!”

  “No, I’m not hating on anyone! I’m saying, Beyoncé’s so good and beloved, an album of her whistling would go diamond at this point. Same with you. Your fans love you no matter what.”

  “But not you, huh?”

  “I love your old stuff. Stop and Frisk was my shit back in the day, old man! I stayed jamming to that song!”

  “Ooooh, Shit! Old man? So my age is gonna be an issue for you?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Look at you. I got you shook! No, Everett…your age is not an issue. At all. You ain’t that old. You’re still in your thirties. I mean, everything is in working order, right? Isn’t it?”

  “I can show your ass better than I can tell you.”

  Well, now I was wet, drenched, shit…flooded.

  Instantly.

  Then I glanced around the room as a thought occurred to me. “Is my age a problem for you?”

  He leaned forward, his eyes glued to me. “Hell, no. It just makes me a lucky man if I can hold on to you.”

  There I went blushing again. I could get used to hearing things like that. It was a welcome change from my past. Not that Sid was mean or anything, he was just not the most affectionate man. He was kind of neglectful when it came to romance even before we got married. I believe he loved me at one point, he just wasn’t the most mature when it came to expressing himself. His proposal consisted of him driving to City Hall and asking me, “You wanna do this shit? I don’t think I want nobody else.”

  Yeah, and my dumb ass married him.

  “I wanna see you again, but I don’t want to take you away from your little girl too much. Plus, I’m trying to get some time on my daughter’s busy schedule tonight,” he said.

  “We can do lunch tomorrow, if you want.” Damn, I was sounding eager as hell.

  He smiled. “Yeah. That’d be good. Wait…shit, I forgot I’ll be in the studio tomorrow. Don’t know how long I’ll be there.”

  I couldn’t hide my disappointment as I mumbled, “Oh.”

  “But you can come kick it with me there. I can have Tommy or Dunn get us some food and everything.”

  “Would that be okay? I mean, for me to come there?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s my studio, Jo.”

  “Oh…okay. Where is it?”

  “How about I send Tommy for you when you’re ready? He can pick you up from work and drop you back off after lunch.”

  I gave him a smirk. “Why? You think I’ma get lost again.”

  “Yep.”

  I faked an annoyed eye-roll. “Fine. Send Tommy.”

  “Will do.”

  A few minutes later, after he’d sent Dunn to find a to-go tray for my sandwich, he was walking me through the lobby of the hotel. Stopping just inside the revolving doors, he pulled me into his arms and kissed my cheek. “Text me when you get back to work. Wanna make sure you make it back safely.”

  I smiled up at him. “I will. See you tomorrow.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  10

  Coming back to this house, the first one I ever bought, always messed with my head. There were too many memories that came rushing back just from pulling into the driveway, both good and bad. But like most things in life, the bad seemed to overshadow the good. It was hard for me to be there, but I’d do anything for Ella, and she’d asked me to come there to spend time with her rather than us meeting up somewhere else.

  When she opened the door and fell into my arms, all the negative shit left my mind. This was my baby, my princess, and even though she was fifteen and only a few inches shorter than me, she’d always be my little girl.

  “Daddy!” she squealed, as she squeezed her arms around me. “So glad to see you!”

  I kissed the top of her head. “You could’ve seen me every day since I’ve been here, but you’re too busy for me, huh?”

  She backed out of my arms and sucked her teeth. “Daddeeee! You know I’ve got all this stuff I have to do for school and cheerleading and the show. Just got a lot going on!”

  The show she was referring to was Go-See, a reality show chronicling the private lives of Esther and three other supermodels who were past their prime but still living extravagant lives. It’d been on the air for years. Ella had basically grown up on that show.

  And I hated that shit.

  I fought with Esther about it for months until Ella, who was seven or eight at the time, called and begged me to okay her being on the show. I knew Esther was behind that shit, because she knew I couldn’t say no to our daughter. So I went along with it with the understanding that her camera time would be limited. Since the show came after our divorce, I was never on it and never would be. That reality stuff ruined lives. I hoped it wouldn’t ruin Ella’s.

  As I followed her deeper into the house, I said, “Yeah, I guess I should just feel lucky to get a few minutes of your time.”

  “Daddy, stop! I’m sorry, okay?” she whined.

  “It’s all good. What are we watching?” I asked, as I sat on the sofa. Esther refurnished the house every year or so, because she was a professional money-waster. I can’t lie, though; I kind of liked the new white couch she had in the family room.

  Grabbing the remote and sitting down beside me, Ella said, “Blair Witch. Been wanting to watch it, but you know I can’t watch scary stuff without you.”

  I grinned as she started the movie and burrowed close to me. Yeah, she was still my little girl, the one who had coloring and thick hair like me, but instead of the hard edges and angles of my face, she had her mother’s soft but exotic features.

  We chatted on and off through the movie, and by the time it was over, I was all caught up on her life, including her crush on some boy I threatened to kill if she went near him. I had to remind Ella’s ass that she wasn’t allowed to date until she was thirty. And I meant that shit.

  We had finished Blair Witch—which sucked in comparison to the first movie in that franchise—and had watched half of one of those Saw movies before she started yawning. It was getting late and I knew I needed to get to bed myself, so I called for Tommy to come pick me up. He’d just texted letting me know he was pulling into the driveway when she came in through the door that connected the kitchen to the garage, and my only thought was…shit. I had really hoped I wouldn’t run into her ass. As a matter of fact, I’d only agreed to visit Ella at home because I knew Esther had some event to attend and wouldn’t be back until late. Well, my ass had miscalculated, because there she was in a beaded black gown looking just as beautiful as she always had, even now at fifty-two years old.

  I hugged Ella, made her promise to call me in the morning, said goodbye, watched her head to her bedroom, nodded at Esther, and moved toward the front door. I was almost home free when I heard the clicking of her heels against the marble floor in the foyer and her heavily accented voice echoing against the vaulted ceiling. “Everett, wait!”

  I kept walking and had grabbed the doorknob when I felt her hand on my arm. With a frown, I looked from her hand to her face. “The hell you want?” I said, keeping my
voice low.

  “My God! It’s been years! Are you really still going to behave like this with me?”

  I guess since I’d managed not to be in her presence for a couple of years, she thought my attitude toward her might have softened. She thought wrong. Esther was always on some bullshit. It was just her nature, and I was never in the mood for it.

  “Look, I don’t have time for this. I came to see Ella, meant to be gone before you made it home. Leaving now.”

  “Everett…I still miss you, you know? God, you look good. I was thinking that maybe you could drop by while Ella is at school and we could...talk?”

  Talking in Esther speak meant fucking. And to that, I said, “Hell, no. Ain’t shit changed between us. Just like I told you all those years ago when I left, I wouldn’t fuck you with my worst enemy’s dick, and you still disgust me. I will speak to you, and I will never disrespect you in front of Ella, but I honestly don’t care if your ass falls off the face of the earth.”

  “So you’re still angry about what happened all those years ago? That’s petty, Everett.”

  I opened the door, and as I stepped outside, said, “Call it what you want, but I don’t want shit to do with you and I never will. Bye, Esther.”

  “Everett!” she shouted.

  I ignored her as I made my way to my truck, climbed into the back of it, and closed my eyes as Tommy pulled off the property.

  I’d just crawled into bed when a text from Everett came through: Hey, about to lay it down. Wanted to say good night to you.

  Me: Awww, you really are sweet. Have a good visit with your daughter?

  Him: Yeah. Always a good time when I get to see her and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

  I grinned.

  Me: Can’t wait to see you, either. Good night, Everett.

  Him: Good night, Jo.

  11

  Peter Park’s ass was really on one.

  The morning started with him sending me out for his favorite coffee—a coconut latte—from this obscure café that I always had a hard time finding. Then I had to go to his favorite bakery and get him two chocolate croissants. The two establishments were nowhere near each other, and when you factor in the morning traffic, it took me two damn hours to complete this task. As soon as I made it back, he had me drop an envelope off at an apartment in a really nice complex. One look at the hood-rat who answered the door, and I knew she was his mistress—one of many. That realization pissed me completely off. I made it back and was finally getting to sit down and work on the mock-ups for Everett’s piece when Peter Park texted me, letting me know he wanted to eat lunch early and for me to take my ass over to Koreatown to pick him up some beef bulgogi, whatever the hell that was. I did what he asked, had to sit and wait for them to make it since he didn’t have the decency to call and order ahead, and took the shit back to him only for him to go off on me about it being neobiani and not bulgogi. Well, shit. I’m a black woman from rural Alabama. Korean cuisine wasn’t exactly a staple in my hometown. How in the hell was I supposed to know it wasn’t the right food? He had the nerve to ask if I checked it before I left the restaurant and my reply was to ask what difference would that have made? I had no idea how it was supposed to look anyway.