Looking For Trouble (10 page)

But his grandmother was now her primary target. Madeline knew that Allene Small was the golden goose that could solidify her standing in John's eyes. He loved his grandmother and he'd listen to her advice. “If I can meet that old biddy, I'll be able to win her over and calm any reservations John has,” Madeline said, plotting her next move. “She's in her nineties, so fooling a scatterbrained, elderly woman will be a piece of cake. Then once I'm pregnant I'll be on easy street.”

Madeline reached across the desk in front of her and picked up her copy of
Ebony.
She thumbed through the pages until she reached a particular section of interest. She smiled, admiring the six-page spread of elegant black women draped in some of the day's most fashionable wedding gowns. “This one will look perfect on me,” she mused, running her manicured finger along the page that highlighted a woman her same height and weight, smartly outfitted in a traditional white gown with tulle and lace.

She moved from the chair to the bed and stretched her long body across the cool bedspread in an attempt to make herself more comfortable. She had to pull herself together and wipe away the sweat that kept puddling in the middle of her forehead, because she didn't want to show any signs of anger or frustration once John returned. She needed to remain calm and in control so she could prevent an unsightly outburst, which she knew she was prone to do. Besides, she knew she needed to rest up for Maxx's party tonight.

She planned to stay only for an hour or so, just long enough to stomach a few of John's humdrum friends, who she knew would be dazzled by her style and beauty. Then she would convince him to ditch the party and make an impromptu visit to his grandmother's house. He had mentioned that the old woman was a night owl, just like him, so popping in on her wouldn't be out of the question. That's when Madeline would make sure she charmed the old woman into giving them her blessing. After that, they would come back to the room and make love with the faulty condoms she'd pricked holes in, earlier this morning, while John was in the shower.

“I've waited a long time for this,” she said, grunting, “and I'll be damned if I let anything stop me.”

Chapter 13

A
fter leaving his grandmother's house, John felt renewed. But he also understood that his newfound comfort was only a temporary state because it came wrapped in a sense of uncertainty about what was on the horizon. He sighed deeply as he steadied himself and made a sharp turn into the Holiday Inn parking lot.

So many things were going through his mind, making his head swim with questions he couldn't answer. He parked his car, then sat with the engine running. He took two deep breaths and reflected on the events of the last twenty-four hours.

He was grateful for the advice his Grandma Allene had given him. Her words of wisdom had been like a heaping dose of medicine that lifted his ailing spirit. “Grandma's always right,” he whispered to himself. “Madeline might not be the one for me.”

“Why didn't I see this side of her before now?” John whispered to himself. But if he was really honest about things, he knew the reason, and it was because he'd chosen to see what he wanted. Given his busy work schedule, which included twelve-hour days, and Madeline's hectic calendar, the only real time they spent together was on weekends, and most of those hours centered around his bed or hers, enjoying each other's bodies as a physical release from their long, power-packed weeks.

He realized that although they'd been seeing each other for a year, their limited contact was almost like being in a long distant relationship. And now, for reasons he couldn't explain, Madeline suddenly wanted more.

After a few more minutes of reflective thought, John finally decided to turn off the engine, head inside, and brace himself for whatever awaited him once he entered his hotel room.

 

When John walked into the room, he found Madeline stretched out across the bed. The South Carolina heat outside was brutal, but the air in the room was unbelievably frigid, just the way Madeline liked it.

“It's freezing in here,” John said, still standing near the door, not moving a muscle.

“You're back.” Madeline smiled, purring with seduction. “I adjusted the air conditioner just slightly, but I can turn it off if you like.” Madeline rose from the bed and walked over to adjust the air-conditioning unit. Slowly she strutted and swayed her way back across the room, reclaiming her spot on the king-size mattress.

John noticed that Madeline's sultry waltz seemed intentional, meant to get him hot and bothered. But instead of feeling turned on he felt slightly on edge. He looked at her through new eyes, trying to determine what was real and what was an act. He'd let her seduce him more times than he now cared to admit; all because of the physical pleasure she was able to give him.

“I'm so sorry about our little spat,” Madeline said. “I didn't want you to leave the room upset with me. What if you had gotten into an accident while you were out? Our last words would have been bitter ones.”

John walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, opposite of where Madeline was perched. “You've never worried about things like that when we're back in New York, and the streets and roads there are much more dangerous than here in Nedine.”

“Danger lurks everywhere, John.”

“Yes, I guess it does.”

Madeline lowered her eyes. “Do you forgive me?”

“What's done is done. Let's just try to get through what's left of this weekend.”

Madeline scooted over to where John sat. “C'mon, baby,” she purred again. “I said I was sorry. I know I shouldn't have overreacted. Now forgive me and don't make me beg.”

“Sure, uh, let's just drop it, Madeline.”

“I want us to talk about this, honey. You have to understand . . . I really wanted this trip to be perfect. When you said your parents didn't like me, well, I felt absolutely awful. I guess I took it out on you. Forgive me . . . please?”

John looked into Madeline's eyes, noting the brightness they carried. But he knew he had to be careful with her, especially after she'd shown him how she could go from sugar to venom faster than his Mustang could go from zero to sixty. And as he looked even closer, he noticed that it wasn't necessarily brightness he saw. Rather, it was a wild, almost erratic stare. He knew she hadn't been drinking, because her breath didn't smell of alcohol.
Is she doing drugs?
he wondered, quickly glancing around the room. He was going to question her, but then he thought better of it. He didn't want to chance what her answer or reaction might be. So to avoid any further drama, he acquiesced. “Okay, Madeline. I forgive you.”

“I missed you while you were gone,” she said wantonly, wrapping her long arms around his shoulders. “And regardless of what you think, I was worried about you while you were out.”

John felt uncomfortable being so close to her. The feel of her body next to his usually excited him so much that he had a hard time controlling his sexual urges. But now, he had little interest in feeling her flesh pressed next to his. He loosened her grip, releasing himself from her embrace.

He stared at Madeline and could see that although she was pissed, she was trying her hardest to hide it. If it weren't for the vein pulsating on the side of her temple and the deep breaths he could see her taking in an effort to control her anger, he would have sworn she was as happy as a birthday girl. He watched as her eyes suddenly darted across the room, landing on a magazine sitting on the desk. She lingered there for a brief moment before returning her stare to him. When she did, he saw what looked like a hint of sadness rimming her lids.

He didn't doubt that she probably felt a little down because he'd left her in the room by herself, and the “Southern gentleman” side of him hated to see a woman in any type of distress. The thought that he was in any way the cause of Madeline's present state made him feel bad about leaving her all alone in a strange city with no one to turn to. His compassion and guilt took over. “I didn't mean to cause you any worry, Madeline.”

“I know. And I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I guess we both did a good job of upsetting each other.”

Madeline took a deep breath and slowly scooted her body even closer to John's. “Yes, we did. But I'm glad we're back on track, because this is supposed to be a fun weekend for us. I feel terrible about our little lovers' quarrel. I'm glad we can move beyond it.”

Although John was remorseful about the way he had treated Madeline, he knew what had happened between them was more than just a simple lovers' quarrel. She'd shown him a side of herself that he was beginning to think only touched the surface of the kind of person she could be.

He again thought about the very real fact that most of their time together had been spent only on the weekends, romping around in a bed. He knew it was foolish to believe he could build a meaningful relationship from that.

From the moment they had arrived in town last night, he had begun to sense that something was different—not only with Madeline, but with himself as well. Outside of their lovemaking earlier that morning, nothing about their relationship felt the same. He knew it was partly her, but it was partly him, too.

“Madeline, when we get back to New York, we need to talk about things.”

“I know you're still upset, but we can work out our differences. Every relationship gets tested at some point, and this was ours.”

“If today was a test I'm afraid we didn't do well.”

“I can't believe you'd give up on us so easily. John, I love you.”

You love me?
John thought, surprised.
Where the hell did that come from?
John didn't know what to say or do. This was yet another example of why he was becoming leery of the unpredictable, impulsive-acting woman in front of him. Not once had she uttered those words since they'd been dating, but now she was declaring love. The mixed signals and confusion were more than what John cared to deal with. He had far more pressing things on his plate, like executing the lease on the building he had chosen for the bank, finding a temporary apartment to rent in town until he could build a house, meeting with auditors once he returned to New York—and those were just a few of the small mountain of pressure-filled tasks he had to complete. He dropped his head to his hands and took a deep breath.

“I need to start getting ready. I told Maxx I'd pick him up.”

Madeline looked puzzled. “You're taking him to his own party?”

“Yeah, Maxx is gonna be drinking and celebrating. He'll need a ride home.”

“You mean we're staying at the party all night?”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

Madeline let out a loud and exaggerated huff, as if she were a dragon blowing smoke. “I hadn't anticipated staying all night, so yes, that's going to be a problem.”

“We talked about this at least five times, Madeline. You said you were looking forward to the party.”

“I just changed my mind.”

John stared at her, not knowing what to think. So he did the only thing he knew would work to calm his frustration—pray that the evening would go better than the day had.

Chapter 14

“W
hat's happenin', my man!” Maxx grinned as he walked up to the driver's side of John's car.

The two men smiled as they greeted each other with a firm handshake and a brotherly hug. It always amazed everyone who knew John and Maxx how the two could be best friends, given how different they seemed to be in almost every way. John boasted a refined type of handsomeness, was polished, and always practiced diplomacy and smooth control. Maxx was a pretty boy, slightly rough around the edges, and frequently found himself embroiled in wild drama. But he was also as charming as they came; and just like John, the ladies loved him.

At six feet even, Maxx stood a few inches shorter than John. His fair complexion was smooth and café au lait. His curly black hair framed a good-looking face and a devilish grin, which made women of all ages swoon in his direction when he entered a room.

John and Maxx had been best friends since third grade, when Maxx came to John's rescue. One day during recess, a group of three boys started taunting John. They called him “rich boy,” and made fun of his expensive clothes and proper diction. They even threw out the charge that he thought his family was better than everyone else's because they had money and a huge house that sat apart from all the other black folks in town.

The group of bullies surrounded John, but he wouldn't back down, not even after all three boys jumped him at once. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Maxx appeared. Fists and elbows flew so fast and hard, it was difficult to distinguish who was hitting whom. By the time the teacher came to break up the fight, John and Maxx were a bloody mess. The three bullies they left on the ground had fared a worse fate, sharing cuts, bruises, and a broken bone among them. From that moment onward, John and Maxx declared themselves to be brothers.

By the time they reached high school, the two young men were inseparable. John was voted Most Handsome and Most Likely to Succeed; Maxx was voted Best Dressed and Most Fun to Be Around. After graduation, they each went their separate ways. Maxx landed a good-paying factory job at Reynold's Plastics, Nedine's largest employer, and further cemented his reputation around town as a ladies' man. Meanwhile, John entered the University of Pennsylvania, an Ivy League school, where he earned a reputation as a serious student and was inducted into Phi Beta Kappa, the nation's oldest academic honor society for the liberal arts and sciences.

Though their paths led them in different circles, they remained thick as thieves through the years. They did everything together from partying hard and chasing beautiful women, to consoling each other over their first broken hearts.

John slapped five with Maxx. “Happy birthday, man. Or as Josie would say,
old man.
”

“What? I know Josie's old ass didn't call me
old
?” Maxx laughed. “I'll show her who's old.”

“Yeah, I bet you will.”

The two friends shared a private laugh about John's comment, while Madeline sat in the passenger seat, peering at them.

“You ready to celebrate your big day?” From the smell of alcohol on Maxx's breath, John knew Maxx already had started his own private party.

“Man, I been ready since last week. As a matter of fact, I took next week off so I can recover from tonight.”

“You took the entire week off? See, that's why I can't hire you at the bank,” John said, laughing. “I'd have to send a posse out to find your ass.”

“Watch it now! I still get my work done. Ain't a cat out there who can touch me.”

“Just as long as you get your beauty rest.”

“Joke if you want to, but I know how to handle my business.”

Despite Maxx's womanizing and partying ways, he cleaned himself up from nine to five, Monday through Friday, and had been promoted several times, making him one of the few black supervisors at the factory, where he'd been employed for over a decade. He took pride in a job well done, never half-stepping when it came to his work.

John reclaimed his place behind the wheel and Maxx slid into the backseat.

“What's happenin', Madeline? How've you been?” Maxx greeted.

Madeline turned around and gave her best attempt at a smile. “I'm fine, thank you. Happy birthday, Maxx.”

“You all right?” Maxx asked, taking in the pained look on Madeline's face.

“Yes, I'm absolutely splendid.”

John knew what her problem was, but he didn't want another argument so he remained silent. They'd had a discussion on the drive over about how she didn't want to stay long at Maxx's party. But just as he'd told her in the hotel room, he was going to be there long enough to make sure his best friend had a good time and got home safely.

As John backed out of Maxx's driveway and put his car in gear, he couldn't help but notice how Madeline's irritation was growing. He couldn't hold back any longer. “Madeline, do you want me to take you back to the hotel so you can rest? I know you don't want to be out late and this way you'll get a good night's sleep before we fly back tomorrow.”

“And miss the party?” Madeline said with determination. She leaned over and said, “Not on your life.” Then she smiled slyly before delivering a soft kiss to his lips.

Slowly Madeline pulled away, bringing her hand to her mouth as if she had just experienced an electric shock. “Wow, did you feel that?” she asked.

“Feel what?”

“That tingling sensation . . . when I kissed you.”

John didn't know what she was talking about. All he felt was confusion about her behavior. When he looked through his rearview mirror and saw Maxx shaking his head in the backseat, he knew he was in for a few jokes, once the two of them were in private. “I didn't feel anything,” John responded flatly.

“Well, I definitely felt it. It was like magic, but I guess that's what happens when you're in love. We might just have to leave the party early, after all.”

Maxx coughed loudly in the backseat as John tried to gather a response to Madeline's wild claim of love. He could tell by his friend's reaction that Maxx was also wondering what in the hell had gotten into her.

Madeline reached into her small handbag and reapplied her frosted pink lipstick, while both John and Maxx stared at her in bewilderment. “Sweetheart, don't look so surprised,” she said. “You should know by now that I love you. You love me, too, don't you?”

John didn't know what she was trying to pull, especially given the fact that Maxx was in the car with them. Her behavior was starting to unsettle him. He didn't want to anger or embarrass her by telling her the truth, so he simply said, “Love is complicated.”

“No, it's not,” she quickly shot back in a caustic tone.

“Maybe not for you,” he shot right back at her.

“And it shouldn't be for you, either. We're great together. What's so complicated about that?”

John glanced over at Madeline and then looked into his rearview mirror again to see an expression on Maxx's face that matched his own—complete discomfort. John couldn't figure out why Madeline was making such declarations in front of Maxx, but he was tired of her games and was ready to put them to an end.

“Madeline, something's wrong with you. You're talking all crazy, so that must mean you're tired or not feeling good. I'm taking you back to the hotel right now.”

“Over my dead body,” she said playfully, but with force. “Or on second thought, maybe over yours, if you go to the party without me!”

“Damn,” Maxx whispered under his breath.

“What's that supposed to mean?” John asked with surprise.

“I've been in that miserable little room all day, thanks to you. I'm not going back, and especially not by myself. If I go back, you're coming with me.”

John looked at Maxx again and saw his friend staring straight at him with caution. Maxx was giving him a signal that said loud and clear:
She's gonna be trouble! Take her ass back to the hotel right now!

But against his better judgment, John headed to the Blue Room, uneasy about what the rest of the evening might bring.