The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (18 page)

Adam had said he’d be gone for only an hour or two, but like I’d suspected, it was taking much longer. New hire paperwork always did, especially at his level. I probably had time to do one more thing to make this morning complete—before Adam came home.

Inside our bathroom, I turned on the stereo system, then sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub and turned the faucet to full blast, hot water only. The oversized basin filled slowly, but when the water reached the top’s edge, I slipped out of my robe and waded in.

It was so hot that my skin screamed. But I eased down deep into the tub, letting the water rise until it hovered at my chin.

Leaning back, I closed my eyes. My thoughts were empty for a moment, but then the black space filled with memories of Shay-Shaunté and our first meeting.

Impressed
was not a strong enough word to describe how I felt from the moment I walked into Shay-Shaunté office. She explained who she was and why I hadn’t been able to find any information about her.

“I’m extremely private,” she told me, just ten minutes into the interview. “And the person I hire would have to respect that.”

I told her she’d have no problems from me. I’d stay out of her business—unless, of course, it had something to do with Ferossity.

She laughed at the way I said the name of the company. She kidded me a little, said that I sounded like a snake when I said it. She explained that the spelling was an homage to her own name—the two
S
s.

I didn’t know what she wanted me to say to that, so I responded with an, “Oh,” and she hired me on the spot.

“You’re exactly who I’ve been looking for,” she told me.

I asked, “How long have you been interviewing candidates?”

“You’re the first.”

She wanted me without seeing anyone else. That definitely made me feel good, but before I accepted, I had one more question for her.

“What happened to your last assistant?”

“No, really … I just told you … you’re the first. The first assistant I’ve ever had.”

Huh? She’d built a multimillion-dollar empire over the last twenty years and hadn’t had an assistant?

That seemed so weird to me, but the money she was offering made me forget all about it—especially when she decided to give me a five-thousand-dollar bonus if I accepted the job right then.

From that day forward, Shay-Shaunté had me mingling with celebrities, arranging appointments with businessmen, politicians, and athletes. She led a whirlwind life and allowed me to come into her world.

It had been more than a pleasure to work for one of the best and brightest that black America—or America, for that matter—had to offer.

But it was time to go—for real. I’d find another gig. My job search would be different from Adam’s. Everyone needed a great assistant, and with a recommendation from Shay-Shaunté, who would deny me?

My eyes popped open. Would Shay-Shaunté even give me a recommendation, though? Not if I quit without giving her notice.

Dang! I was gonna have to stay—at least for another two weeks. Well, I could do that—it was all about doing what you had to do.

Just as I settled back in the water, I heard the two beeps to the alarm—Adam was home! Eager to see him, I pushed my hands against the tub, ready to jump out, but in the next second, I eased back down. I’d wait for my husband right here.

Adam’s footsteps were hidden in the deep pile of the carpet, but I counted the seconds, knowing just how much time it would take for him to enter the house, take off his shoes, walk through the mudroom then into the hall, drop off his keys by the front door, then come into our bedroom.

By my count, he was just ten seconds away.

One, two, three, four.

I was eager to hear the details. What would he be doing specifically? Would he be reporting directly to Mr. Yearwood?

Five, six, seven, eight.

When would he get his signing bonus?

Nine.

I couldn’t wait to see him.

Ten!

I opened my eyes, and Adam was there.

But the joy on my face didn’t match the pain I saw on his. Barely an instant passed, and I knew. I didn’t know the details, but I knew enough.

My eyes stayed on him as he took slow steps toward me. I trembled when he sat on the edge of the tub, the moisture on the porcelain seeping through the Italian wool of his suit. He didn’t speak a word before he leaned over and kissed me. My face was already moist from tears.

He tried to kiss away the emotional water that trickled from my eyes, but then, my cries began coming too fast.

What happened? I sobbed inside.

But I didn’t ask that question aloud. I just held him, with water-soaked hands, and I pulled him closer.

It was as if my sobs released our urgency, and his kisses were no longer gentle. His lips pressed hard against mine—there would be bruises for both of us, I was sure. And when our tongues met, one tried to swallow the other.

Without releasing me, Adam pushed me against the back of the tub, then slowly, he lowered himself into the water—right leg first, then his left. I took myself away, for just a moment … wondered if Adam had even taken off his shoes. But really, what did that matter? All I knew was that I wanted more of him, wanted all of him.

The water sloshed around us, cascading over the side—a musical milieu to our moans. I yanked his silk tie to pull him closer. Then, when he was as close as he could get, I tore his tie away. Next, his jacket.

His clothes were heavy from the weight of the water, but I tugged and pulled—jacket, shirt, pants—working to free him.

All the while, he stroked my body—his fingers first on my shoulders, then dancing to my chest, where they lingered on the most sensitive parts of me. Then his fingers crawled down, down, down, settling in the land that made me a woman. I wrapped my legs around him, wanting to get from him as much as I could take.

When he was finally as naked as I was, we wasted no time. He shifted his legs, lifted mine to meet him. And under the chill of the water, we became one. Our heat, my bliss was instant, but my groans came from the deepest parts of my hurt. We rode together, in rhythm with the water, thrusting
harder, faster. It was a race—we had to keep our pleasure ahead of our pain.

I needed to feel every inch of my husband, the length of his fingers, the strength of his chest, the shape of his legs. I needed to reach deep inside of him, and I wanted to give him every bit of me.

I have no idea how long we lasted; it could have been minutes, hours, days. All I know is that I finally reached the top.

But afterward, when our heartbeats returned to some semblance of normal, it was clear that making love had not been enough. Because I was still here—in our home. In our bedroom. With my husband.

Who didn’t get the job.

That was when the pain surged ahead and won the race. There was no pleasure at all. We sat in the almost icy water, holding each other. I leaned my head into Adam’s chest and I cried until there were no more tears inside of me.

Chapter 27

T
HE SUN SHINED THROUGH OUR BEDROOM
windows, rising slowly, marking the passage of time and filling the master suite with its winter heat. Still, I shivered. Even though we lay beneath the down comforter, I couldn’t stop trembling.

We lay side to side, facing each other, saying nothing.

Then the sun inched a bit higher, and soon the children would be home. That was the only reason why I asked.

“What happened?”

Adam’s eyes closed slowly, then opened. He did that again, as if he had to blink to remember something he wanted to forget. He said, “I’ve never seen anything like this. I was in the HR office filling out forms, and while I was there, the order came down. For a freeze. An immediate hiring freeze.”

“Weren’t you already hired?”

“I thought so. But when Mr. Yearwood explained it, he said that my paperwork hadn’t been completed and not even the most imperative positions were being filled.” He shook his
head. “Shine, I couldn’t even leave. I sat outside that building, hoping, praying that the job would come back just as fast as it had been taken away. But …”

My eyes stayed on Adam’s, and his were fixed on mine. Not another word was spoken, but still I knew that we were thinking on the same things: our families and our home. Without the job with American Express, what would be next?

I told him, “The children’s school called this morning.”

That was enough—Adam knew the conversation.

Time passed and I waited for Adam to speak the words that had to come. The words that he’d spoken last night.

But then I realized that he didn’t want to be the first to say it.

So I would do it.

As I opened my mouth, that spiritual alarm inside me blasted away. But I ignored it and spoke above the sound in my heart. I had to, for the sake of my family.

“I think we can do it.” I took a breath and inhaled more courage to say the next words. “It’ll be hard, but we have to do it.”

A long moment passed, but finally Adam nodded and my heart broke.

He reached for me and his hand fell against my chest. His palm pressed against the place where my heart had stopped. “A long time ago, I made that promise to only be with you, but the greater vow is taking care of you and my children.”

I swallowed my fear and my pain. I nodded.

“I’m doing this for us.”

“I know.”

It won’t mean a thing to me, Shine.”

“I know,” I cried.

“But before we agree … there’s only one way that I’ll do this.” He paused as if considering carefully his next words. “I
never want to talk about it. Not one word, Shine.” He said it as if that was a warning. “I don’t ever want to have a discussion about … it.”

I would never object to that. “No discussion. I would never want to talk about it anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He pushed, “That has to be the deal, because whatever happens … during that time … I don’t want to bring it into our home. I don’t ever want it to be close to you or a part of who we are.”

In the middle of all this sorrow, I wasn’t sure why those words pleased me. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

A moment of silence, then, “For the sake of our family.” He said aloud what I’d been saying inside.

“For the sake of our family.” My repetition of those words were the seal on this deal. It was our Amen.

His fingertips traced the lines of my face. “I love you, Shine.”

“I love you more,” I sobbed.

“I love you best.” And then he tried to kiss my pain away.

Chapter 28

I
BECAME A ROBOT
.

That was the only way I would survive getting out of the bed to meet the children as they came home.

Ethan arrived first, dashing through the door, dumping his coat and shoes in the mudroom, then racing up the staircase.

“Hi, Mom! Bye, Mom!” he said as if it was all one syllable. He huffed, “I gotta check something on the computer that Dougie just told me about on the van.”

About midway up, though, he slowed down, then paused, then turned around. He looked down at me and said, “Oh, I forgot. We don’t have enough money to have Internet.” That memory and realization made him sulk to his room.

“This is why,” I whispered. “This is why we’re doing it.”

I was still talking to myself when Adam came out of our bedroom.

At the foot of the stairs, he asked me, “Was that Ethan?”

“Yes.” I turned away from him.

Next came the twins, strolling in. But their eyes were filled with suspicion when they walked into the kitchen and saw both Adam and me.

“Did you go to work today, Mom?” Alana asked me as she dumped her messenger bag onto the floor.

“What happened to hello?” I asked.

“Hi. Did you go to work today?” my mini-me asked again.

“No,” I said, pulling a package of chicken wings from the freezer.

“Are you sick?”

I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t before but that I was beyond sick now. “No. I just hadn’t had a vacation day in a while.”

Her look was fifty-fifty. Like half of her believed me and half of her didn’t.

Alexa’s voice was tight when the inquisition was turned over to her. “Did you, Daddy? Go to work?”

“Yes,” he said, shifting his glance toward me.

Our eyes met, but I couldn’t keep looking at him—three seconds, tops.

That was the story of our night. I moved through the hours doing what was expected—feeding the children, helping with homework, getting all ready for bed. Then I took to my own bed, because I was nauseous from all the hours that my heart had cried.

Although it was early, not quite ten, Adam joined me, in our bedroom, in our bed. But when he reached for me, I did something that I’d never done; I cringed. And eased to the edge of my side of the bed.

“Shine, do you want to talk about this some more?”

“What else is there to say?”

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Don’t put this all on me, Adam.” My voice was sharper
than I wanted it to be. But then I wondered why. Hadn’t we made this decision together?

But Adam must’ve understood, because his voice stayed soft. “I’m just saying, if you don’t think you’ll be able to handle it…”

“I’ll handle it,” I whispered, my eyes wet with tears. “It’s just that now … I need … just tonight.”

“Shine…”

“I’ll be okay tomorrow. I just need tonight to … get used to this.”

A beat, then a soft, “Okay.” He rolled to his side of the king-size bed, miles away from me.

I wanted to hold him. I needed him to hold me. But I stayed right where I was—on the edge.

I wept silently through the night. But still, I rose at six fifteen and did what I had to do as a mother, as a wife, like a robot.

By the time I got the children off to school and I was dressed for work, my head was on the verge of exploding.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Adam asked.

“To work?”

“To talk to Shay-Shaunté.”

“No!” I exclaimed. “I can handle this.”

“I really want to be there with you. I don’t want either one of us to do any of this alone.”