Gimme an O! (25 page)

Anthony hesitated, as if considering her suggestion. He finally said, “Ginger’s there now. I may as well get this over with.”

Lecia’s shoulders drooped with defeat.

She looked up when she heard his soft footfalls. He was walking toward her. Her heart soared with hope. He was going to stay.

Lowering his head, he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you.”

Lecia wanted to scream. Instead she mumbled, “I won’t hold my breath.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Anthony regarded her with a weary expression, but he didn’t try to reassure her that she would hear from him.

What did she want him to say? she wondered. “Don’t worry, Doc. You’ll hear from me. I’m in love with you.”

How ridiculous was that!

She was a grown woman, Lecia thought. She had known what she was getting into. A fling born of the attraction they hadn’t been able to suppress after all the time they’d spent together.

So what if he was the man who had helped her find her mojo? Many people had sex without forming any emotional attachment. Surely she could manage the same.

That all made sense—logically. Emotionally, however, she knew she was a wreck. And as she watched the man she loved retreat from her bedroom, she couldn’t help feeling like her heart was breaking.

When Anthony entered the house, he was overcome with the scent of vanilla. It was a scent he knew well. Ginger burned vanilla candles every time she wanted to seduce him.

The curtains were closed and the blinds drawn. As Anthony rounded the corner into the living room, he saw the flickering lights of candles dancing on the walls.

And then he saw Ginger. She was stretched out on the leather sofa, one leg lying flat and the other bent at the knee. She was a vision of red lace on black leather. Physically, she looked stunning.

But he felt nothing other than a burning sense of regret.

“Hi.” Her voice was deep and husky, and clearly meant to seduce.

“Ginger.” Anthony spoke in an exasperated tone. “Put your clothes on.”

“I know you’re mad at me, and I don’t blame you.” She slowly rose to her feet. Her red feathery slippers clicked against the tiled floor as she strolled toward him. “But you can’t believe Sha-Shana. It was her idea to play a prostitute and set you up, not mine.”

Anthony went cold as Ginger’s words penetrated his brain. “
What
?”

“She was hoping to extort money from me. She’s an old friend I knew back in Kansas. At least, I thought she was a friend. She found out that I’d married an athlete, and she wanted to cash in on what she thought was my success. I know you must be wondering why I left Kansas City. Well, I’m not gonna lie. I got into a bit of trouble. I figured it was best to leave and start a new life for myself.” Her lips curled in the slightest of grins. “Which I did—when I met you. Oh, baby. I fell for you right away. The only reason I pressed for a divorce is because of Sha-Shana. And a guy named Pavel. He’s another story entirely.” Ginger sighed. “I’m trying to tell you that I still love you. That I’ve always loved you.” She closed the distance between them. “We can work this out, Tony. I’m your wife.”

Anthony stepped backward, moving away from her. He knew she was lying. “And Bo? Who’s he?”

There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes. But she quickly recovered. “He’s…he’s…”

“Your ex-husband,” Anthony finished for her. “One you were seen dining with just last week. The same one who was on the news claiming to be your friend, practically telling the world that I’d done something horrible to you. Exactly how does he play into this?”

“Um…Well, um…he wants me back. I admit, I—I met with him to talk. But only to tell him that our marriage was over.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about him? If he was in your past?”

Ginger blinked in rapid succession. She was clearly flustered. “Because there was no point. He wasn’t going to ruin what we had.”

“You’re lying.”

Ginger drew backward as if she’d been slapped.

“I spoke to my lawyer as I was driving here. Turns out…” He paused for effect. “…you and Bo Baxter never divorced.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and Anthony fought the urge to smile. All the crap he’d endured on account of this fraud standing before him was finally over. Her bigamy was the icing on the cake, but it had freed him in grand style. His lawyer assured him that there was no mistake; Ginger had been legally married at the time she’d said “I do” to him, making his nuptials to her null and void.

“That’s not true,” Ginger said. “I signed the divorce papers eight months ago.”

Anthony shrugged. “If you did, they weren’t filed. But considering you’re still hanging out with this guy, I doubt it.”

Ginger’s brow furrowed as she clearly tried to make sense of what Anthony had told her. Then a lightbulb must have gone off because he saw understanding in her eyes. “That son of a
bitch
. Listen, Tony. If Bo and I are not divorced, it’s just a technicality. It doesn’t change—”

“That technicality makes you a bigamist and nullifies our marriage.”

She reached for him, placing her palms on his chest. Anthony didn’t stop her. In fact, he welcomed her touch. It was the only way to know the truth, to see whether she still affected him in any way.

But he didn’t feel even the least bit warm. He felt cold.

“Bo must have done this. But I swear, this can all be rectified. Sweetheart—”

“None of that matters, Ginger.”

“No, you’re right. We have to fix us.”

She tipped up on her toes and kissed his mouth. This time,
Anthony felt something. He felt contempt stirring in his gut. Contempt over the fact that Ginger clearly believed that even after all she’d done, she could seduce her way back into his heart.

And maybe she could, if she’d held a place in it to begin with. Clearly, he had his own shortcomings, and he would deal with them once he finished dealing with her.

She sighed softly as she moved her mouth over his, though Anthony couldn’t understand why. He was giving her as much encouragement as a cold fish.

“Let me make this okay,” she whispered.

Anthony took her wrists in his hands and peeled her off of him. “It can’t be okay, Ginger.”

“No. Don’t say that.”

She reached for him again, but again he forced her hands off his body.

“I could blame you for everything,” he said calmly. “But the truth is, it’s not entirely your fault. All that’s happened in the last couple months only helped prove what I’ve come to realize. We never should have gotten married in the first place.”

It occurred to him that if you said those words to most people, there’d be a sign of some sadness in their eyes, or at least a flicker of remorse. Ginger’s eyes, however, hardened.

“Spare me,” she spat out.

“I didn’t come here to argue. I came to see you one last time. To tell you this face-to-face.”

Snarling, she turned on her heel and started back toward the sofa. He thought she was going to sit, but suddenly she was charging in his direction, wagging what it took a second for him to realize was a gun.

His blood went cold. But he didn’t flinch as he said, “Put the gun down.”

“We shared this house,” she told him. “Half of what’s in it is mine.”

“Put the gun down.”

Ginger started to sob. “You can’t just kick me out of your life.”

“You did that yourself.”

“Five million dollars. That’s a drop in the ocean for you.”

“It’s an investment in something I care about.”

“Meaning?”

Anthony drew in a deep breath. “I’d give you the whole house…” He paused as her eyes lit up. “…
if
we were married. But we’re not. And you know what?” Anthony stepped toward her, knowing full well she might pump him full of lead. But if he died, at least he’d die standing his ground.

He reached for the gun and wrenched it from her fingers. Ginger didn’t put up any resistance, which told him she wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. Instead she whimpered, acknowledging defeat.

“I don’t owe you a damn thing,” he continued. “You’ve got a lot of nerve standing here in my living room—after everything you did to try and ruin my life—acting like I owe you something.”

Her voice softened. “You’re going to leave me with nothing?”

“Consider yourself lucky that I’m not calling the cops. Now, I need you to leave. Tell me where you’re staying and I’ll send all your stuff there. You could earn a pretty penny for all that designer stuff, if you ever decide to sell any of it.”

She huffed. “Thanks for the advice.”

Anthony didn’t respond. Instead he stood with his hands on his hips, hoping Ginger would leave without causing a scene.

She met his gaze with hard, assessing eyes, but must have realized he couldn’t be sweet-talked, seduced, or coerced into changing his mind.

“I at least need to change,” she quipped. “My clothes are upstairs.”

“Five minutes,” he told her. Then he watched her stomp out of the living room and, at last, out of his life.

Kahari tossed the basketball with an easy flick of his wrist. The ball soared in the air and went through the hoop, making a soft
whoosh
.

Anthony scooped up the bouncing ball and dribbled it with fancy footwork, but Kahari stole the ball from him and slam-dunked it in the net.

“Shit.” Anthony shook his head in shame as he stared at his friend.

Kahari laughed. “Admit it. I’m the man.”

Anthony scowled. “Toss the ball.”

Kahari whipped the ball at him, and Anthony caught it with a wince.

“You ought to just call her.”

Anthony aimed for the hoop. Took the shot. The ball hit the rim and bounced off.

“See what I’m saying? Your game is off, dawg. And I’m not just talking basketball.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to her.”

“You’re wimping out.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with Little D here.”

“He’s in the bathroom.”

“Shoot the ball or give it up.”

Kahari shot the ball from the three-point line. Bull’s-eye.

“Shit,” Anthony cursed again.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

Anthony sucked his teeth. “Afraid of what?”

“Rejection.”

“I’m the one who backed off from her.”

“Because you’ve got to prove some point. That what—you’re not like your father?”

“Yo—”

“Look, you met the wrong girl and you married her for partially the right reason. It didn’t work out, but you know what? Join the club. There’s no reason to punish yourself for the rest of your life.”

“You gonna play or what?”

“I liked her,” Kahari went on as he dribbled the ball. “From what little I saw of her. And I know she liked you, too. If it’s money you’re worried about, isn’t she making a ton with her book?”

“Yeah,” Anthony conceded.

“So that’s not an issue.”

“Guess not.”

“You know she won’t try extorting money from you the way Ginger did.”

“Right.”

“And can you picture Dr. Love pulling a gun on you?”

Anthony actually chuckled at the absurdity of the image. “Not in this lifetime.”

Kahari tossed the basketball. It flew in the air like a bird, landing in the basket.

“I still can’t believe the police haven’t found Ginger,” he said.

“Me, neither,” Anthony agreed as he snatched the dribbling ball. He jumped high and slam-dunked it. “But they will.”

“All that shit she was into was bad enough. But to kill that loan shark?”

Ginger was the prime suspect in the murder of some Russian guy named Pavel. Bo Baxter had talked to cut a deal for himself while his wife had taken off. According to Bo, he and Ginger had met with Pavel under the pretense that they were going to pay him what they owed. Bo was supposed to kill him, but had chickened out. In the end, Ginger had stabbed Pavel, then grabbed the gun from Bo and shot Pavel dead.

Who knew if Bo was telling the truth or had simply been dumb enough to get caught?

“I don’t want to waste any more time talking about Ginger.”

Kahari took another shot, but it bounced off the rim. “Fine with me. I’d rather talk about Dr. Love, too.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Anthony asked. He didn’t bother going for the bouncing basketball.

“Just want to see my homey back on his game.”

Anthony didn’t respond. He looked up at the sun, shading his eyes. How could he tell his friend that he didn’t trust his own judgment? He’d married a woman who had pulled a gun on him and murdered someone else. Could he have screwed up more than that? The last thing he wanted now was to rush into another relationship. He was On for one, and the odds weren’t in his favor. And given how easily he’d fallen into bed with Lecia, he was quickly following in the footsteps of his father.

Kahari walked up to him and slung an arm across his shoulder. “I’ve been watching a lot of Dr. Phil—”

“Dawg, living with your sister’s made you soft.”

“Spoken from the guy who just got his ass whooped?”

“Whatever.”

“T, you’re not your old man. You’re nothing like him.” Anthony’s face must have registered shock, because Kahari said, “Yeah, you heard me. And don’t look so shocked. Don’t you remember how you used to be in college? A girl would ask you out, and if you didn’t see a future with her, you’d stay up all night, whining about how you weren’t sure you should even date her.”

“I didn’t whine.”

“Dude, you whined. I’d tell you just to go out with the girl, then you’d tell me that’s what your father would have done.”

Damn, he barely remembered that.

“All I’m trying to say is, forgive yourself for what happened with Ginger. And move on. If that’s with Dr. Love, it’s all good.”

Anthony dragged his hands over his face. He could hear Lecia’s angry words to him, telling him that he needed a shrink. Maybe she was right.

“I’m trying to work it all out.” Anthony pointed to his head. “In my mind.”

“I know you will. Just don’t expect it to be easy. Anything worth having you have to work at.”

“You’re a friggin’ walking self-help book.”

“I know.” Kahari grinned. “’Sides, LaTonya said she’d be thrilled if you and the doctor hooked up. She could have her over for that women’s night thing that she does.”

“I see you both have my life planned out.”

“It’s been two weeks, and you’ve been a miserable s.o.b. the entire time. Do me and everyone else who knows you a favor? Go home and call Dr. Love.
Please
.”

“I’m back!”

Anthony turned at the sound of Little D’s voice. The kid wore a smile from ear to ear, and Anthony was glad to see it. His
mother was out of jail, and it looked like there wouldn’t be enough evidence to charge her. She had gotten a second chance, and Anthony hoped she would make use of it to better her life.

Little D retrieved the ball and hustled toward them. Anthony slung his arm around the kid’s shoulders. “This is what I’m concentrating on,” he told Kahari. “Little D, the center.”

Kahari cut his eyes at Anthony. “You heard what I said.”

“Whatever. Two on one, Little D.”

Little D and Anthony dribbled the ball down the court, out of Kahari’s reach. When they got near the net, Anthony lifted Little D into the air. The kid slam-dunked the ball and hung from the rim.

“Oh yeah, little man!”

For the next half an hour, they all continued to play. But try as he might to lose himself in the game, Anthony couldn’t manage to keep Lecia out of his thoughts.

When Lecia learned that the huge arrangement of flowers in the office reception area was for her, her face erupted in a grin. Her immediate thought was,
Anthony.

“You’re sure this is for me?” she asked Sam.

“That’s what the deliveryman said. ’Sides, my husband would never be this romantic.”

“Wow.” Lecia practically ran to the office with the large bouquet of white roses. She could hardly wait to open the card.

She placed the vase on her desk and tore open the small envelope.

Lawrence.
A wave of disappointment sweeping over her, Lecia sank into her leather chair and closed her eyes.

Then chided herself for her stupidity.

Of course Anthony wouldn’t send her flowers. What the two of them had shared had meant nothing to him.

If it had, enough time had passed that he would have sought her out. But he hadn’t been lurking outside her office or her house in the past three weeks. He hadn’t called to say hi or that he missed her. He hadn’t even called to inform her that Ginger had been charged with murder. She’d seen that on the news.

All that night, she had tossed and turned, wondering how he was holding up, wishing she could offer him some comfort. But a night of pining over him had given her a clear head in the morning.

If Anthony wasn’t giving her a second thought, she sure as hell shouldn’t waste her time thinking about him.

Since then, she had resolved to move on. Before meeting Anthony, hadn’t she told herself that this was the time in her life when she would concentrate on herself, on her career? A man had never been in the picture when she thought about her immediate situation, so why on earth lament the loss of one who had never given her his heart to begin with?

Work was the answer to her glum mood. Thankfully, she had more than enough on her plate. She had gone back to therapy, toyed with different ideas for a new book. Though busy, she did miss Anthony terribly, but for the most part she’d been doing okay.

Until she entered the office after lunch and saw the large bouquet of white roses.

“Oh, get over it, will you?” she said aloud. Anthony hadn’t called. It was high time she accepted that he probably never would.

A little over an hour later, Lecia glanced at the clock, counting down the minutes to when the patient with her would leave and she could be alone with her thoughts. The flowers had been a horrible reminder that she would never have a future with the man who’d stolen her heart.

She tapped a palm on the desk. “Okay, Rita,” she said to the attractive brunette. “I’ll see you next week, same time.”

Rita didn’t get up. Instead she looked at Lecia and said, “Um.”

“Yes?” Lecia said.

“Do we still have more time?”

“About five minutes.”

“There’s something else I wanted to discuss.”

“Okay.” Lecia settled back in her chair.

“It’s…” Rita’s voice trailed off. “I haven’t mentioned this before, I guess because I’m so embarrassed. I think it’s going to ruin my marriage.”

“What, Rita?”

“You know how I’ve been telling you that I have no sex drive?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t been exactly honest. I think I do know why.”

“I see. You’re ready to share that with me?”

Rita nodded. “During intercourse, I’m…” She paused. “I’m very dry.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t what Lecia had expected her to say, but at least it was a problem that could easily be resolved. Unless the condition was something worse. “Are you experiencing any vulvar pain? Burning? Stabbing sensation? Kind of like the yeast infection from hell?”

Rita shook her head. “No. Why?”

“Just putting on my gynecologist hat. Many women suffer from something called vulvodynia, which can be extremely painful and leads many of its sufferers to forgo sex. I thought I’d ask, to see if there may be a physical cause for your lack of interest in intimacy.”

“No, no pain. I just don’t get very wet.”

“You say this is the cause for your diminishing sex drive?”

“I kind of think so, yeah.”

Odd, Lecia thought. Unless Rita was experiencing discomfort but didn’t want to tell her about it. “But you’re not having any pain, no problems at all with penetration?”

“I never thought so.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Rita shrugged. Glanced away. “My husband thinks it’s a problem.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning he’s unhappy because of this problem.”

“Have you tried any lubricants?” Lecia asked.

“No. I suggested it, but…he says he wants me natural. I feel so ashamed.”

“Ashamed? Why?”

“Because if I was really excited, I would get…it would happen naturally.”

Lecia leaned across her desk. “That’s not true. Every woman is different. Some don’t need additional lubricant, others do. There’s no shame in that.”

“But my husband says his ex got really wet. That he knew she was hot for him when she was soaking. He gets all upset with me, thinking he doesn’t turn me on. He said if this continues, he may file for divorce.”

Now Lecia understood why this woman was having problems being intimate with her husband. The guy sounded like a first class jerk.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, believe me.” For this woman’s sake, Lecia hoped she believed her. Her husband, on the other hand, was a different matter.

He reminded her of Allen. Allen had always used every opportunity to put her down. She’d never told her family about it, hadn’t even dwelled on it at the time. She simply internalized it. His words of condescension had chipped away at her self-esteem bit by bit.

It was no wonder she had gone into the field of therapy, and sex therapy in particular. She had never felt sexy with Allen. Never felt she could satisfy him. Why else would he have sought sexual pleasure in the arms of so many other women?

Anthony, on the other hand, had helped her feel incredibly sexy. Hell, she now wore thongs—and thought of him every time she put one on.

“Forget Anthony.”

“Pardon me?”

Lecia was mortified to realize that she’d been so taken up with her thoughts that she forgot she had a patient in the room.

“Um,” Lecia stumbled, “I said trust me, your husband is wrong. Using KY Jelly is not the kind of issue that pulls couples apart. If it is, there’s another problem in the relationship, and I’d suggest you and your husband get couples counseling.”

“Thanks, Dr. Calhoun.” Rita paused, then said, “Can I ask you something else?”

“You know you can ask me anything.”

“Are you and Anthony Beals dating? I know it’s not my business, but since I’ve seen so much of you two on the news, I can’t help but ask.”

Lecia was too stunned to speak, and Rita went on. “I still
can’t believe his wife! Murdering that loan shark? And being a bigamist? That’s a crazy story, even for Hollywood.”

It was, and it was the reason Lecia had taken some time off of work. The media had swarmed the office in hopes of getting an exclusive interview with her. Then they’d swarmed her home, so she had hung out at her sister’s place until the story died down. She hadn’t spoken to the media and didn’t plan to.

“At least they caught her.”

Lecia leaned forward across her desk. “What?”

“They caught her. His wife.”

“Oh my God. When?”

“This morning. Would you believe the woman was in Vegas? Apparently she was wooing some high roller.”

Did Anthony know? Lecia wondered. Of course he must. And yet he still hadn’t called her.

But maybe he needed her support. Should she call him?