Deadly Satisfaction (4 page)

P
HILLIP

N
ormally when Phillip was in his car, he listened to talk radio, orchestral jazz from his iPod playlist, or his favorite old school hip-hop station. But right now, as he navigated his black rental car around the quiet streets of Amber, he was driving in complete silence. He was in deep thought from the conversation he'd just had with his mother about his love life.

Phillip was a ladies' man, and he'd inherited his love of women from his father, whom he was now estranged from—mainly because of his father's philandering ways. Phillip had known since he was a teenager that his father cheated on his mother on a regular basis, and it had angered him. During his senior year of high school, he'd been at a wild party one Saturday night at a hotel in downtown Birmingham, when he saw his father and a strange woman coming out of one of the hotel rooms. He and his father had gotten into a heated argument about that incident that nearly turned to blows.

Phillip had felt tormented, caught in a tug-of-war between loving his father in spite of his scandalous ways and protecting his mother from inevitable hurt. He didn't want to insert himself into his parents' marital affairs, but at the same time it bothered him to helplessly sit on the sidelines as he watched their marriage implode.

By the time Phillip had graduated from law school, his relationship with his father was strained at best. Their rift was noticeable to everyone, especially his mother. Phillip was glad she'd thought their distance was a result of a falling-out the two of them had had over a legal matter during Phillip's last year of law school. He and his father were both stubborn men, and neither one of them budged once their mind was made up. Even though his mother's feelings were temporarily spared, Phillip knew that she would eventually find out about his father's cheating ways.

And sure enough, one hot summer night two years ago, the Honorable Charlene Harris made the discovery of her life. Phillip still shook his head to this day when he thought about the drama-filled night his family had learned just how trifling his father was. When mild-mannered, play-by-the-rules Lauren found out she'd been dating her half brother, she'd been crushed. She'd cursed out her father and vowed never to speak to him again. But her actions had come nowhere close to their mother's.

Charlene had been so hurt and angry that she'd turned violent. That very night, after Lauren, her boyfriend, and Phillip had all stormed out of the house in disgust, Charlene remained behind, exacting her revenge with a baseball bat that had landed her husband in the emergency room.

Phillip had been angry too, but not because his father had suffered a black eye, broken arm, severe bruising, and was later kicked out of the house. He was upset because he'd never seen his mother so distraught, or his normally reserved sister so emotionally devastated and vulnerable. The pain of that night still lingered with all of them, and Phillip knew that neither his sister nor his mother had ever been the same. They rarely spoke of what happened, but the weight of it was always present.

“Damn, I'm hungry,” Phillip said as he pulled around to the designated take-out parking area of Sebastian's restaurant. His mouth started watering as soon as he walked inside and smelled the delicious aroma of food and spices wafting through the air. He was actually glad that he'd had to get takeout tonight because, truth be told, after the stressful week he'd been having, and the rush of packing and traveling after working a half day, he really didn't feel like cooking.

Phillip strolled up to the counter and smiled to himself when he saw that not only was the cashier checking him out, a woman who was sitting on one of the two long benches in the small to-go space was eyeing him too. Even though he resented his father in many ways for many things, he was thankful that he'd inherited the man's impressive height, killer smile, handsome face, and muscular physique.

Phillip wasn't conceited, nor was he stuck on himself like some of his friends who hung in the circle of well-heeled, successful professionals he was a part of. But he knew without a doubt that he was well above average when it came to looks, and he was confident in knowing that he could have just about any woman he wanted. Young, old, tall, short, slim, full-figured, short hair or long, Phillip loved them all. But he did have certain standards that he refused to compromise. Kindness, intelligence, and compassion were musts for him, and above all, he valued honesty.

If there was one great lesson he could say he'd learned from his father's many mistakes, it was that honesty was truly the best way to operate within any type of relationship. His father had covered up, lied, and outright schemed about so many things that it was hard to believe anything he said or did. Phillip believed that as long as there was honesty, everything else, like respect, love, compassion, and understanding, would fall into place.

The cashier looked him up and down with an expression that Phillip could now see wasn't the admiration he'd originally thought. She hesitated and then greeted him in a flat tone. “Welcome to Sebastian's. Do you need a menu, or do you already know what you want?”

Phillip could see that the woman was obviously having a bad night, so he tried to disarm her. “You're perceptive.” He smiled. “Yes, I know what I want.”

“A man who knows what he wants . . . now that's a trip.”

“Is it?” He wasn't surprised by the woman's remark because it went along with her salty attitude. He glanced down at her ring finger and saw a wedding band. If he had to wager, he'd bet her ring was a symbol of disappointment, not love.

“Yeah,” she answered. “Half the time y'all men don't know what you want, and then when you finally figure it out and get it, you don't know what to do with it or how to appreciate it.”

Phillip raised his brow, but instead of giving attitude right back to her, he looked at the woman's name badge and smiled even wider. “Well, Angela, I have to agree with you, and it's a real shame. But fortunately for me, my mother raised me to know exactly what I want, how to get it,” he said, pausing for emphasis, “and more important, how to keep it. And with that in mind I'm going to order the chicken marsala for my mother, and the T-bone entrée for myself.”

Phillip could see that not only had he broken Angela's grumpy attitude, he'd just won over the woman sitting on the bench, too. Now both women were smiling.

Angela nodded. “All right, sir. Do you want any dessert with that?”

“You know, I think I will. What do you recommend?”

Angela's smile grew. “Our cheesecake is delicious. And I'm not just sayin' that. It tastes like what your mama would make.”

“Then cheesecake it is.”

“All right. That'll be fifteen to twenty minutes.”

Phillip took a seat while Angela and the woman sitting on the bench across from him continued to check him out. He felt good knowing he'd been able to ease the woman into a good mood, so he leaned back and began to scroll through the e-mails on his phone to pass the time. He was busy reading messages when the side door opened and brought in a rush of cold wind along with a woman who made him look away from his phone. To say that she was beautiful wasn't enough, and he didn't know if there were words for her.

Phillip watched as the tall woman gracefully sauntered in, surveying the waiting area as she walked up to the counter. Their eyes locked and he gave her a smile that she didn't return.
What is it with the women in this town?
he thought to himself. But he wasn't deterred.

“Hey, girl,” Angela greeted the beautiful woman. “How you doin' tonight?”

The beautiful woman gave a small smile, but it was big enough to light up the room. Phillip watched her carefully, and even though she was dressed casually in leggings and a sweatshirt so big he could wear it himself, he could tell she was stylish—her colorful pink boots told him that. The chrome watch on her wrist was large and gleamed with glitzy embellishments around the face, and her fingers were well-manicured, and best of all, ring-free. He'd been around enough women to know that the black handbag hanging from the crook of her arm was well-made and expensive. Phillip also appreciated that her makeup was flawless and just enough, not overdone.

“I'm tired, hungry, and ready to eat,” the beautiful woman said. “I sure hope my order is ready.”

“I'll go check for you,” Angela said.

Phillip could tell by the way the woman interacted with Angela that she was a regular customer. He watched as the beautiful woman stood at the counter. He wanted her to take a seat on the bench while she waited, or at least turn around, which would give him an opportunity to strike up a conversation with her. But she remained standing with her back to him.

“Sorry, girl,” Angela said as she came from the back. “It's gonna be another ten minutes or so.”

The beautiful woman looked at the glitzy watch on her wrist and let out a loud sigh. “But I called my order in more than twenty minutes ago.”

“It's been extra-busy today, and that's the way it usually is right around the holidays. But if you wait, I promise when you get it it's gonna be delicious.”

“All right. I guess I'll just have to wait.”

Phillip watched as the woman finally turned around—actually, she looked as if she twirled—and then walked over to the bench across from him and sat down. She nodded to the woman sitting a few feet from her and then crossed her long legs. He could tell that she was purposely ignoring him, but he didn't care because he couldn't take his eyes off her. He made it so obvious he was staring that the woman beside her glanced back and forth between them, with an expression that begged to ask if they knew each other.

“Ma'am, your order is ready,” Angela said to the woman sitting on the bench.

The woman stood and smiled as she walked to the counter to get her food. She stacked her bags on top of each other and smiled. “Y'all have a happy Thanksgiving,” she said on her way out the door.

Just then Phillip's phone chirped, alerting him that he had an incoming text message. He looked down and saw that his mother had sent him a laundry list of items to pick up from the grocery store. He shook his head and smiled because his mother was so meticulous that she'd grouped each item on the list by category. As he looked at the list he startled himself because in that moment a question came to him that he'd never thought about until now. But he didn't have a chance to fully explore what it meant, because his thoughts were interrupted.

“I'm gonna go check on your order,” Angela said to the beautiful woman, then turned around and headed back to the kitchen.

This was Phillip's opening and he took it. “Do you have plans for the holidays?” he asked.

The woman looked at him without answering as she pulled her ringing phone from her handbag. He thought she could've given him a head nod—at the very least—as she'd done to the woman who had been sitting beside her. Yes, the beautiful woman was definitely ignoring him on purpose, and it served to make him even more interested in her.

“Hey, girl, I tried calling you after the interview went off but I got your voice mail,” the woman said. The concern in her voice was so strong that a worry line appeared across her forehead. “Are you okay?”

Phillip watched as the woman slowly recrossed her legs and leaned against the back of the bench. She was consumed in her conversation, oblivious to the fact that he was watching her every move. He thought she was sexy without trying to be, and that made her even hotter. She shook her head and looked up at the ceiling as she listened with what appeared to be pain on her face to whomever was on the other end of the phone.

“I wish I knew, too,” the beautiful woman said. She let out a deep breath as she ran her fingers through her long, silky hair. Phillip noted that although her fingers were slender, her hands were large. But then again, she was very tall, so it stood to reason that the rest of her body would be in proportion. He looked down at her pink boots and could see that her feet were large, as well. He thought it was ironic that such features could be found on a woman as slight and as delicate as she was, and he thought it made her even more unique.

“Yes, and I wanted to reach through the damn screen and choke the hell outta that heffa until her lyin' tongue hung out . . . uh-huh . . . I know, girl . . . uh-huh . . . 'cause it's probably some ol' bullshit . . . that psychopath is crazy . . . Yes, and that's why I'm worried about you.”

Phillip was startled by how bold and rough the stylish woman was talking, unfiltered and without a care. If it had been any other woman talking the way she'd just done, it would've turned him off completely, but it did just the opposite coming from her.

“When will Samuel and his parents be home?” she asked. “Uh-huh. . . okay . . . Do you want me to come over and keep you company until they get back? Are you sure? I'm at Sebastian's waiting for my take-out order, but I should be leaving soon and I can come straight over.”

Not only was Phillip physically attracted to her, he liked her. Her caring and sincere manner was endearing, and it melted the hard shield she'd put up when she sat down and ignored him just moments ago.

“Your order is ready,” Angela said, coming out of the back.

The beautiful woman nodded. “My order is ready,” she said to the person on the other end. “I'll call you back after I get out to my car.” She hung up, shook her head, and exhaled deeper than she had when she'd started her conversation, which Phillip could see hadn't been a good one. It was obvious that her friend was in distress and now she was, too. She looked up at the ceiling again, uncrossed her long legs, and rose slowly. Phillip wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he knew that would be way out of line, and judging by the way she'd been acting toward him she might even tell him that it was none of his business.