Forever. (This. Is. Not. Over. Book 3) (20 page)

“I’m telling you, this bitch is bad
,” she says to me as we make it to the curb.

“Oh
, you don’t have to tell me,” I say as I navigate through throngs of Londoners. “I’m just hoping she sounds good in person.”

“Me too. You wanna grab something to eat afterwards at that little diner
we like? And just so you know, I plan on stealing some of your chips because I know that’s what you’ll be ordering as your side item.”

“Yeah, about my chips, order your own. Last time you asked for a taste and then damn near licked my plate clean
,” I say just before someone comes crashing into Winnie, nearly knocking her over.

“Damn!”
she screams out.

“What the fuck?” I say to this big ass bearded redhead as I yank Winnie out of the way and slide in front of him. “Watch where the fuck you’re going.”

“Sorry, mate.” he says in an Australian accent. “Just trying to find my wife.”

“You plan on killing mine in the process?”

“Won’t happen again.” He puts his hands up in a truce.

“No shit.” Winnie wraps her arms in mine.

“Come on, Jakie,” she says as she begins pulling me away from him. I throw one last threatening look at the Aussie before I head with Winnie towards the ticket agent. “It’s about to go down in here!” Winnie says as I hand our tickets to the agent. The ticket agent lets us through the door where we enter more confusion and an even bigger crowd. I wrap my arm around Winnie’s shoulders this time, as we navigate towards our row.

“Yeah, it is
,” I say, still reeling from the Aussie. I mean, this muthafucka just bumped right into my wife. Back in the States, I would have floored his ass for that. Bumping into Winnie … watch where the fuck you’re going.

Jasmine

(
after
.)

The glow of his cell phone wakes me up. I open my eyes slightly, look to his side of the bed and see that he’s looking at his cell. I glance on the screen.

Winnie 2:36 am:
Where are you? I think I’m having contractions.

“Shit,” I hear him whisper before bolting upright. He rushes into the bathroom and eases the door shut without turning on the light.

             
“Baby … how far apart are they?” I hear him say. “When did they start? Okay, calm down. Calm down … I went back to the office and fell asleep; I’m walking in the building now … I’m on my way … Baby, relax … Winnie … Okay, I’m on my way … Relax, alright? … I love you … Relax.”

I’m already up by that last ‘relax’ and now I’m out of the bedroom. I grab my clothes off the floor, slide them on, grab my clutch, carry my boots in my hands and within seconds, I’m out the front door. He doesn’t have to tell me to leave.

I can’t explain why but in this moment, I feel like a new woman. I feel free. I’ve done something that goes against everything I preach. I’ve done something that would land me in divorce court and yet I feel like I did in college.

             
Free.

             
I have nothing tying me down. I can walk out of here and head right to my hotel room. I don’t have a husband to answer to. I don’t have kids to feel ashamed in front of. I have enjoyed an evening with Jacob and now I’m done. I’m leaving. I’m free.

             
But aside from that, I don’t know how I feel about what happened. I love Jacob. But yet again, I love Marlon just as fiercely. I think, in a way, I feel like this: Jacob and I may love each other but we’re deeply attached to our spouses in a way that we aren’t to each other. That spousal attachment can only come after years of arguments and resolutions, lovemaking and babies, vacations and quiet nights at home. And as comforting as ‘attachment love’ is, something has to be said about ‘taboo love’. It’s that lusty love you feel with someone with whom you haven’t worried about pre-mature labor, broken business deals, mammograms and prostate exams. That love is freeing. Attachment love is comforting.

Jacob and I would have years to make up in order to reach the level of attachment he feels with Winnie and I feel with Marlon. Years. And then, in the end, we’d be back at square one: searching for that
taboo love that we once had because though attachment love is comforting, it’s also boring.

I opt for the steps instead of the elevator
, which is a good thing because I hear a condo door opening. I’m sure that’s Jacob looking for me. I dart down the steps, ripping my cell phone out of my clutch. Ten more flights to go. I dial Malcolm’s cell number.

“What’s wrong?”
he answers.

“Hi, Malcolm. I, um, need a ride. I’m
—”

“Meet me downstairs.”

Jacob

(
the. crew
.)

“I don’t know about you but I fucking love Hilton Head
,” Winnie says as she reaches for my hand and takes it in hers. “But it probably has something to do with a certain guy with a big dick that happens to be here.” She turns to look at me and smiles. “Oh, and you too.”

“Funny
,” I say back to her. We laugh together … and my guilt rises yet again.

Two years we’ve been married.

Two years … damn.

We’re in Hilton Head, having come here for an annual Fourth of July vacation. As usual, there’s a shitload of people here. Cousins upon cousins upon cousins upon uncles and aunts and sisters and now the Yates, Winnie’s family
, joins us. My mother and Aunt Angie are having their witty repartee as usual, slyly taking jabs at the others’ hairstyle. There’s an unofficial corned beef cook-off where their husbands and children are the judges.

Cadence and his wife Lola are ‘dining’ as he notified us all. They left for their dinner reservation after the
yearly basketball tournament the men have in the back of Aunt Angie’s home. Nat and Dena are going for a stroll through the wooded trail around the resort, as per her request. God help Nat. He’s trying his best to make this work with Dena, catering to her every need just so she’ll be tolerable at home. But I can tell it’s hard for him; I’m not sold on his ‘yes, dear, no, dear’ act. I can also tell that he’s pissed that me being married to Winnie isn’t as hard for me as he hoped it would be.

Reason being? I fell in love with her.

Winnie and I are at Oyster Bar right now with Malcolm and Laura. Malcolm’s on his cell phone, checking messages from Senator Carlo Rossi, Laura’s father and Blair and Associates’ newest high profile client. Nat, Cadence, Malcolm, and I along with our girls currently live in London where we’re under the tutelage of Malcolm’s father. There we each have flats in the same building on Holborn, right in Midtown. We have our own firm in the West End that boasts a roster of old-money Londoners, mainly businessmen. We moved to London after graduation to learn how to practice law and to learn from the mistakes along the way. We’d rather do this with a bunch of polite ass tea-sippers than with hot-blooded Americans. We’ll be perfect in our execution once we come back to the States.

Life is London isn’t bad at all; we eat fish and chips, bangers and mash, and shepherd pie like we’re locals. We have late night meetings in the Ambassador’s house, also known as
Uncle Wynston’s pad. We’re on top of the world. But we always keep our eventual move back to the States in mind, which is why Malcolm wooed Laura’s father. Carlo Rossi is our only American and only high profile client so we treat him like he’s God.

Currently, Laura’s whispering something in Malcolm’s ear
and smiling. Mac has his usual smirk on his face, but his eyes are glued to his blackberry screen. We never rest.

“Are you listening to me, Malcolm?” Laura asks before taking a sip of her Shirley Temple and popping the cherry in her mouth.

“Yeah, baby. I hear you,” he says as he leans over and kisses her on the temple, his eyes still glued to his blackberry. This, of course, annoys the hell out of Laura; she’s convinced that ever since Mac and I graduated from law school, all he’s concerned about is business. Namely, her father. So I can tell Laura’s about to throw a tantrum in five … four … three … two…

“I’m so unhappy right now!”
she yells at the top of her lungs, eyes closed, head tilted back.

“And here we go
,” Winnie whispers to me.

“Alright, Laura
,” Malcolm says with his usual patience as he slides his phone into his pocket. “Relax.” I feel so bad for Mac, I can’t even tease him properly. You gotta understand, Mac is my brother. Plain and simple. And he’s a good dude. He deserves somebody with brains and spunk, not Laura’s bratty ass. “What do you need?” he asks coolly. “Another Shirley Temple? You wanna order some food?” He drapes his arm behind the back of her chair and kisses her again on the temple.

“What I want is for the love of my life to show me some attention
,” she says in that whiny ass voice that I can barely stand to listen to.

             
“I got you,” he says with that perseverance that makes me want to knock the hell out of him. Damn, for once I want him to tell her to shut her ass up. Stop being a brat. Stop acting like a goddamn kid. “I’ll go get you another drink,” he says instead.

             
“That’s better,” she says with a little grin as she looks up at him through her lashes.

             
“Ugh,” I hear Winnie say as she takes a sip of her bourbon and coke.

             
“I know,” I say under my breath as I sip my scotch. “You want another one?” I nod to her glass.

             
“Sure, leave me here alone with her.” I laugh and raise my hand to give her a fist bump.
Be strong
. She bumps it back.
Hurry your ass up.

             
“Hey!” I hear Cadence say from behind me. I turn and see him and Lola walking up to our table, arm and in arm, smiling. I have to admit, these two just may have the most perfect marriage I’ve ever seen. Cadence is a damn sucker for love and Lola worships him. He steps out on her from time to time but other than that, their marriage is perfect.

             
“Oh, you all just have to go to Italiano’s for dinner!” Lola says. “They’ve changed their entire menu and it’s so good.”

             
“I hate Italian,” Laura says with a pout.

“Laura, we
are
Italian,” Lola says in disgust.

             
“Eww, don’t remind me.” She slides her hands down Malcolm’s chest. “I’m going to have Dane babies,” she says with a smile before giving Malcolm a quick kiss on the lips.

             
“That you are, baby,” Mac says with a smile of his own. So, this is the thing about Malcolm Alexandre Blair: he’s full of shit. And he’s also the best—and I mean the best—bullshitter alive. “Tons of them,” he says with a wink. Winnie kicks me under the table.

             
“We’re in love,” Laura turns and notifies us. Winnie kicks me again.

             
“There goes red!” Cadence says out of nowhere. Oh, shit. I watch Malcolm ease away from Laura almost imperceptibly before locking eyes with Cadence. Winnie kicks me under the table. She’s never forgotten about the Danielle Rouge/Danielle Red conversation and though Cadence screams the
‘there goes red!’
phrase out often, I’ve never admitted to Winnie that it’s in reference to Danielle. But let’s be honest, Winnie Blair is quick as hell. She already knows. I look at her and we both smile at each other before looking away.

“What does that even mean!” Laura says as she laughs. “You better tell us all one day!” She points to Cadence and laughs harder.

              “Let me go get you that drink,” Mac says as he stands. I go ahead and stand with him as Cadence assists Lola into her chair.

“I’ll stay here and guard the women
,” Cadence says as he takes a seat. “I want to make sure their virtue is protected at a place like Oyster Bar.” He smiles as Laura and Lola laugh. Winnie looks over her shoulder and gives me the ‘hurry your ass up’ look. I nod before smiling at her.

             
“Rossi saying anything interesting?” I ask Mac as we walk away from the table.

             
“Issues with Cynthia and Eva,” Malcolm says as he takes his blackberry out of his pocket again. “Eva’s been checking his phone records. But that just confirms what I’ve been saying; we need to see if Nat can come up with a separate phone network for us, a private one. I’ve got a feeling that we’ll need it one day.”

             
“Are we still talking about Nat like he’s a legitimate member of the firm?”

             
“Come on Jake, he went with his father for six months.”