Nothing to Lose (13 page)

 

Billie's second date with Michael was going great so far. It was a Thursday-night movie outdoors at Capitol Riverfront, an area in Southeast D.C., between Capitol Hill and the Anacostia River. Every Thursday night, starting in May through August, the site was host to a movie on a large screen in front of a large park sitting area. It was a growing, developing area near the Washington Nationals baseball stadium, which looked very different now than it did when Billie was a young girl growing up nearby.

Michael had been prepared with a blanket and a basket filled with food, including two wine glasses and a bottle of Pinot to share during a viewing of
Raiders of the Lost Ark.
It wasn't the most romantic movie, Billie thought, but Michael more than made up for that with a spread of roasted chicken, dill potato salad, bacon-wrapped asparagus, and bread. He didn't try for a second to fake it, admitting right away that he'd picked up the whole set, including the tote it came in, at a catering company before arriving at her doorstep.

There was less talking than on the first date, just some whispering about the movie and chitchat. Although she had already done so, she thanked him again for the small painting he'd sent her.

They began the evening sitting up, but soon were lying down on the blanket. There had been a foot or so of distance between them during most of the movie as their food was placed there. After they'd eaten, Michael removed the plates and uneaten food back to the black-and-blue argyle tote bag. At some point during the evening, that gap got smaller and smaller.

Billie wasn't sure how it happened—whether it was she or Michael who had moved—but at the point when Indiana Jones was warning the Nazis not to open the Ark, their shoulders touched. Her gaze left the large screen in front of them and went down to the blanket. She felt a definite spark, despite the tenderness of the connection. Billie let herself smile in a way he could clearly see, even though she wasn't so sure that was something she should give away so quickly. There was a moment of silence, which seemed painstakingly long to Billie, before Michael whispered to her.

“Sorry” was all he said as he pulled away a little.

The sound of his voice, deep and low, sent a tingling sensation through her. It took her a moment to gather the nerve to look at him. She was scared she'd give away how much she wanted his shoulder touching hers again, how much she wanted to hear him speak in that deep, Southern voice.

When she did turn her head slowly to him, he was looking at her with a very serious look on his face. Was it the dimly lit night, or was this man getting more handsome every time she looked at him? Billie felt her breath catch a little. She swallowed hard before managing a polite smile.

“It's okay,” she said, speaking in a voice pitched higher than she'd hoped.

To Billie's disappointment, the movie only lasted another half hour. She wanted at least another hour of not-so-accidental shoulder brushes and nervous laughs at scenes that weren't actually intended to be funny.

When the credits began to run, everyone around them—the people Billie had forgotten were even there—began to get up. Chatter lifted and it was suddenly very loud.

“I guess it's time to head on out,” Michael said, his voice showing a hint of reluctance, much to Billie's pleasure.

“Yeah,” Billie said as she started to get up. “We should probably get . . .”

Maybe it was lying in one position for so long that made her legs weak, having a couple of glasses of wine, or just plain clumsiness, but Billie stumbled before she was even halfway up and went flying toward the ground.

“Whoa!” Michael said as he reached out for her.

Humiliated, Billie banged right into him, landing in his arms, which he used to grasp her and keep her from doing more damage. She felt her whole body flush with the heat of embarrassment. As soon as she turned to him with the intent of apologizing, that heat changed to something else entirely.

His eyes lowered to her lips as his opened just a bit. Billie felt a pull in her stomach, which was noticeable desire, as she lifted her mouth to his. When his lips came down on hers, she let out a little whimper. It was soft and tender, slowly deepening with intensity as her body began heating up like an inferno.

She felt shivers as his hand came around and began to caress her bare arm. Then he grabbed her more firmly and pulled her closer to him.

Billie brought her hand to his chin as she cupped it and immersed herself in the mastery of his lips. His lips were soft and he worked them seductively, making her feel this kiss throughout her entire body.

It wasn't until she heard some whistling from the exiting crowd around them that Billie realized that they were full-on making out in public. She lightly made distance between them and leaned away. Their eyes caught in that moment and he seemed to realize the same,just a little later than she had.

“It's my turn to apologize,” she said.

“Why would you?” he asked, letting her go. “That was great. Or maybe I'm speaking too soon.”

“That kiss?” She smiled as she sat up. “Yes, that was, um . . . fantastic, but I meant for falling for you. No, I mean
on you . . .
for falling on you . . . again.”

He sat up and faced her. “You're tiny, Billie. I barely felt anything. Well, I wouldn't say that I didn't feel anything, but it certainly wasn't pain.”

She laughed and slapped him on the arm; that was the only thing she could think of to deal with the discomfort of her attraction to him and tripping over her own words. Billie thought it was a stupid move and imagined he was probably already regretting kissing a high-school girl who couldn't complete a full sentence.

“So you're okay with what just happened?” he asked, his eyes holding a little uncertainty.

“Haven't been that okay with something in a long time,” Billie answered, feeling refreshed at not feeling the need to cover up anything.

He smiled in a very satisfied way. “Good, because I've been wanting to do that since that first time we met on the train. I thought at that moment, when I caught you, ‘Man, I want to kiss this girl.' But I figured you'd slap me and have me arrested.”

An open, kind smile formed at her lips. “Probably would have been a bit soon for that move.”

He nodded, slowly standing up. “Which is why I didn't do it. But I wanted to, and I'm glad I finally got to.”

He held his hand down to her. Billie reached up and took it, hoping this time she could manage to stand up like an adult and not create another disaster. When she was finally on her feet, she looked up at him. His hand was still holding hers.

“I really had a great time, Michael. I—”

Her breath caught as his hand squeezed hers only slightly and he leaned forward. “I really want to see you again, Billie. Soon.”

The intensity in his eyes turned her on even more than the kiss had. What was happening to her? Billie hadn't felt this attracted to a man physically since . . .

“Michael,” she whispered to him, “I've had a lot of bad luck with men recently or since . . . forever. I hope you understand if I want to be cautious.”

“I've had the same.” He let her hand go and took one step back. “Romance has taken a backseat to my career because it just didn't seem like it was happening for me. Whenever I gave someone a chance, I ended up regretting it. I got tired of endless setups with nothing to show for it.”

“So you do understand?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, Billie. I don't think we should be cautious at all. I'm very attracted to you and I think you feel the same. There's something here and it excites me too much to be cautious. I think it's about time for both of our lucks to change. Don't you?”

 

“Then what?” Erica asked.

She was taking a break in a private room at Nolan headquarters downtown and talking to Billie on the phone about her date with Michael last night. Not only was she happy to hear that flirtatious excitement in Billie's voice, which she hadn't heard in a very long time, but she was also grateful for the distraction from the monotony of labeling brochures.

“Did you agree with him?”

“I didn't know how to respond,” Billie answered.

She was sitting at her desk, having spent most of the morning reliving the events of last night until the last moment. Billie had to share with her girls, but she knew Sherise had her plate full, so she decided to call Erica.

“I said, ‘We'll see,' and left it at that. Then he drove me home.”

“Is that it?” Erica asked. “You didn't kiss him again?”

“Of course I kissed him again.”

“And?”

“Nothing happened,” Billie said. “I mean, nothing happened after the kiss. A lot happened during the kiss.”

“Sounds like he's a good kisser,” Erica said. “God knows nothing is better than a good kisser.”

“Just perfect,” Billie said. “Perfect mouth mastery and pressure. You know, just the right amount to feel just overpowered enough to be turned on like crazy.”

“But not crazy enough if you say nothing happened after.”

“That's the thing,” Billie said. “Enough happened for me to know I better not invite him in, or panties would have dropped.”

“Didn't trust yourself, huh?” Erica laughed.

Billie laughed too. “So we're going out again this weekend.”

“Look at you moving fast, Billie. That's not like you. I'm impressed. So date number three. That means—”

“Not moving
that fast,
” Billie insisted. “Well, at least I don't plan to.”

“Sherise will be mad at you for sleeping with a guy before she's vetted him.”

Billie made a smacking sound with her lips. “I don't need Sherise's vetting.”

“You Googled him yourself, huh?”

“Of course I did, but he doesn't run in Sherise's circles. He's not a social climber. He's focused on real community work. Rolling-your-sleeves-up community service, not writing a check and clinking champagne glasses at a fund-raiser.”

“Sounds like your kind of guy,” Erica said.

There was a knock on the door and Erica could hear Alex call her name.

“I have to go,” Erica said. “But we're getting together this weekend, right? Even Sherise?”

“She says she'll be there,” Billie said.

“Can't wait, bye.”

Erica got off the phone and rushed to the door of the tiny space. Opening it, she saw Alex standing outside with a look of concern on his face.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Of course,” she answered. “Why?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It just seemed like you rushed out when you got a call. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Thanks for worrying.” She gently placed her hand on his shoulder and incidentally felt his muscles. He didn't look that muscular on the outside, but rather more trim and fit. “I'm good. Just taking a break.”

“Ready for your first trip?” he asked.

“I thought I wasn't high enough up to make a trip.”

“Jonah wants you there,” Alex said.

Erica wasn't sure what to think about that. She smiled a little nervously, wondering if Alex thought this was weird. He knew she'd worked closely with Jonah when she was at the Pentagon, but didn't it seem weird he would ask a low-level staffer to take a trip?

“Don't worry,” he added. “Juliet won't be there.”

“Good,” Erica said, genuinely relieved. “So, where and when?”

“Iowa,” he said. “I know, sexy, right? But all roads to the White House begin in Iowa. It's just for the day. You have two hours to pack.”

“Now?”

Alex smiled. “Um, yeah. That's how these things work, kid.”

“Kid?”
She pressed her lips together and squinted her eyes at him. “Watch it. I'm four years older than you.”

“But I'm the boss.” He pointed at her playfully.

“So you think.” She swatted at his hand. “Two hours isn't a lot, Alex.”

“Don't be such a girl,” he teased. “It's just a day. I'll make you a deal. Run to your place and get your things. You get back here by noon and I'll have some Korean tacos from that food truck you love so much waiting here for you. We'll have lunch together. Then we'll head to Iowa.”

“Deal,” Erica said.

She liked that idea a lot, maybe more than she was willing to admit to herself.

“But wait,” she said. “The airport is a hassle. Won't it take longer than that?”

“We're taking a private jet. We get to bypass the bullshit.”

“Provided by a generous supporter, no doubt,” Erica said.

“You're learning the lingo,” he said. “Don't worry. I'll be there. We'll both make sure neither of us lets it get to our heads.”

Erica could tell she had an ally in Alex and was probably going to need him to get through this.

H
igh tea in the
D.C.
area was a social tradition that most of the area's residents weren't even aware of. Although it was available many days during the week, women who were considered “in the know” took part in it on Saturdays or Sundays at select hotels downtown.

It usually happened between three and five in the afternoon and early evening. Tea was served from individual pots, alongside finger sandwiches, such as smoked salmon and crab salad, presented on a silver tray. For around $45 or $50, women relaxed in comfortable chairs in luxurious settings and caught up.

Probably, the most elegant of high teas took place at the storied Mayflower Hotel's Café Promenade. However, for the last three years, the girls preferred high tea at the Empress Lounge of the Mandarin Oriental, where they were this Saturday afternoon. They preferred it because it was a younger crowd, less stuffy, and the food selections were more dessert oriented, with cakes and cookies. They used to do high tea at least once every few months. Lately, though, with their schedules and lives, it was turning into a twice-a-year event.

Although they usually enjoyed a glass of champagne before tea, in deference to Sherise's condition, they all stuck with tea, a selection of white lotus and rose petal, as they listened to Sherise share her concerns about Elena.

“You think I'm overblowing this,” Sherise said, sensing the lack of urgency in their attention. “And don't you dare say I'm being hormonal. I'm a conniving, manipulative woman—and I know one when I see one.”

Erica almost spit out some of her cupcake as she laughed. She gave it to Sherise—she wasn't blind to what she was.

“I'm not saying you're wrong,” Erica said. “I'm just saying you don't have enough to go on to come to the conclusion that this woman is after your husband. You talked to your sources at the firm. She's a known flirt at the office. No one seems to think she's particularly interested in Justin. She just works for him.”

“Do I need to repeat the phone incident to you?” Sherise asked, taking a bite of a fruit tart. She was ravenous—this being the first day in a while when she didn't want to throw up at the sight of food.

“Sorry, Erica,” Billie chimed in, “but trust me. You know I'm an expert at this. Answering a married male coworker's private cell phone is a sign of danger. Think about it. Would you ever do that? Especially if you saw the name on the phone was his wife's?”

Erica couldn't deny that it sounded a little weird. “It's just that your marriage has enough problems without injecting jealousy in.”

“I'm not jealous,” Sherise insisted. “It's not about that. I just don't trust him. . . . I mean
her.
”

Erica pointed at her. “You slipped up there.”

“I meant
her,
” Sherise insisted, frustrated.

“No, you didn't,” Erica countered. “You don't trust him, and that's the problem. Justin has worked with beautiful women before.”

Sherise sighed, placing her cup of tea on the table. “I should be willing to trust him again. I know that Jennifer targeted him. He would have never slept with her otherwise.”

“She didn't force him down on the bed,” Billie said. “You know how I tried to blame it all on Claire when I found out about her and Porter. Saying this little blond bitch seduced my husband, but Porter made his choices. Claire didn't force him to do anything. Justin made a choice to give in to whatever temptation Jennifer was throwing his way, and you're afraid he's gonna do the same with Elena.”

“I don't trust him,” Sherise admitted. “Now that Justin knows about Ryan, I just feel like . . . I don't know. That maybe I'm not worth being faithful to anymore.”

“From everything that's been going on,” Billie said, “it sounds to me like he wanted this to work as much as you did.”

“You need to go back to regular therapy,” Erica said. “Like you were, in the beginning.”

Sherise's hands formed into fists. “I don't want to do that.”

“Calm down,” Billie warned.

“I'm just pissed,” Sherise said loudly. “Why is this happening now? Just when I thought we were getting somewhere good again. We were sharing again, you know, really talking to each other. This job with Northman I can handle, but now Elena and this baby . . . I just don't know.”

“The baby is a blessing,” Erica said. “You can't think of it as anything but that, even if you didn't plan it.”

“That's the thing.” Sherise's brows narrowed as feelings of guilt took her over. “I think this is what hurts the most. I'm feeling resentment toward this baby. Like it's the baby's fault that Justin thinks I got pregnant to trap him. I blame it for making me get fat, just as another, younger, thinner woman has her eyes on my husband.”

“That's not good, honey.” Billie scooted over on the settee they were sitting on and wrapped her arms around Sherise.

Sherise leaned in and laid her head on Billie's shoulder. “I hate myself for feeling this way toward an innocent, little baby. It needs my complete love and devotion, and I'm being the worst mother.”

“You're stressed out and hurting,” Billie said. “You're worried about Jonah, Elena, Justin, and the job. It's too much.”

“We're going to help you through this,” Erica said.

“I know you will.” Sherise looked at her.

“Erica is working on the Jonah issue.” Billie nodded in Erica's direction as a hint for her to say something more.

“I haven't found anything out yet,” Erica lamented. “I'm folding brochures and stuff. Even in Iowa, I was just following Alex around taking down names of potential donors. I barely even spoke to Jonah.”

“LaKeisha has hired a PI,” Sherise said. “His name is Jonathan T or something. I'm scared to death. He's so exclusive that even I couldn't find anything on him. Honestly, I've been trying to discreetly track down info on this guy for the past three days. In D.C., when a PI is invisible, that means he works for the most powerful and can get access that the average PI can't. You have to let Jonah know.”

“How?” Erica asked. “You don't even know anything. Besides, he'll know I'm getting this from you.”

“Sherise.” Billie used her calming teacher's voice. “Jonah knows that the top people are looking into him. He'll be prepared for this Jonathan T. Hell, he's probably hired him before.”

Sherise nodded. She wanted to believe that so bad. “Someone as underhanded as Jonah should know more, and, yes, it makes sense that he is prepared, but I swear I won't get any sleep until I find out what Jonah plans on doing. What about this boy Alex you keep talking about?”

“I don't talk about him,” Erica said defensively.

“Yes, you do.” Billie smiled. “You talk about him a lot. You had a lot of fun in Iowa with him, remember? You told me on the phone last night that—”

“Whatever,” Erica said nervously. “He's my boss.”

“But he's closer to Jonah,” Sherise said. “He's probably in meetings with him.”

“I don't want to take advantage of Alex,” Erica said. “He's my only friend there. I would never use him.”

Billie leaned away from Sherise and toward Erica, noticing that little gleam in her eye. “You like him, don't you?”

“He's the only person there I do like,” Erica answered.

“That's not what she means,” Sherise said judgingly. “She means you want to fuck him. Have you?”

Erica gasped. “Hell no. I'm not thinking about him like that. No way. We're friends. Can't I have a male friend I want to be loyal to and not use?”

“No,” Sherise said. “Not when your loyalty to him interferes with your loyalty to me. If he was your man, that would be one thing, but he's not. He's not, right?”

“Stop it,” Billie said to Sherise.

“No,” Sherise said. “I'm glad that you like someone who is actually worthy of you, instead of the thugs you're used to dating, but—”

“You really want to go there?” Erica asked. “Just when I was trying to comfort you.”

“I don't need comfort.” Sherise sat up straight. “I need answers. You're my sister, not Alex's. Or maybe it's not your loyalty to Alex that's the conflict.”

“Here we go.” Erica threw her hands in the air.

“You want to be daddy's little girl, still,” Sherise continued. “But it's not gonna happen. Jonah isn't capable of real love. You'll always be kept at arm's length. Don't let hanging out in that McMansion or flying in private jets to Iowa fool you. Jonah will never be the father you want.”

Erica was indignant in the face of Sherise's repeated accusations. “I'm not . . . You know what, Sherise. Fuck you.”

“Erica.” Billie gestured for calm. Sherise was being a bitch, but she didn't need to be upset anymore.

“No,” Erica said. “You put yourself in this situation, but you keep attacking me as if that's gonna make me want to help you more. I'm sick of it. You say one more word to me about me wanting to be Jonah's precious, little daughter, and I'm not gonna do one more thing for you.”

“You're not doing anything for me now,” Sherise protested. “My entire life is hanging in the balance and you won't even help me warn Jonah about a real threat to him.”

“Just keep your mouth shut!” Erica yelled, loud enough to garner looks from ladies nearby.

Sherise's head went back and her eyes widened. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Erica continued, “you're the threat to Jonah. He's going to cover his own ass, and as long as you keep your mouth shut, you won't have a problem. So just shut the fuck up!”

Erica hadn't really realized the impact of what she'd said until both Billie and Sherise stared at her blankly. In that second, she felt awful.

“Oh, my God.” Sherise was smacked with the reality of what Erica was suggesting—what she was sure she was suggesting.

“What are you insinuating, Erica?” Billie asked.

“Nothing.” Erica let out a groan and fell back on the settee. “I'm not suggesting anything. It's just . . . That's just what Jonah told me. When I mentioned that Sherise was nervous about all this—”

“Wait a second,” Sherise interrupted. “You're telling him about these conversations? You're telling him—”

“Of course not,” Erica insisted. “I just mentioned it in general. He seemed to . . . Well, he seemed to say as long as you didn't say anything to anyone, that—”

“And if I did?” Sherise asked, her hand unknowingly going to her stomach.

“He didn't threaten you,” Erica said.

“That sounds innocent coming from anyone but Jonah,” Billie said. “You know him, Erica. A man like that saying such a thing could mean more than just the words convey.”

“He wouldn't hurt her,” Erica said. “He wouldn't do that to me. He knows I would never forgive him. I would never let him get away with it.”

“That's your problem, Erica.” Sherise stood up. “You live in your little fantasy world where he's concerned. You say that like he'd even let you be around to forgive him or let him get away with it. Do you think for one second, if you posed a threat to him, you'd still be around?”

“He wouldn't hurt me!” Erica cried out.

“What are you doing?” Billie asked Sherise.

“I'm going home.” Sherise reached for her jacket on the hook next to their table. “My life has just been threatened. I'm not in the mood for tea.”

“Oh, for . . .” Erica couldn't believe this. “No one is threatening you, Sherise. Sit down.”

“Sherise . . . ,” Billie began to implore as she stood up.

“No.” Sherise held up a hand to stop her. “Don't try to talk to me. I can't really take any more of either of you.”

“What did I do?” Billie asked. “I'm trying to—”

“Stop!” Sherise was waving her hands frantically. “I can't take this anymore. I need to go home, where I feel safe.”

“Sherise!” Erica called after her as Billie sat back down.

Billie's phone, resting on the table, made a
ping
sound as a text message came across. Billie reached for it, looking at Erica.

“You shouldn't have said that, Erica.”

“It slipped out. She's not in danger. He just meant if she kept her mouth shut, nothing could be confirmed.”

“You know it could mean anything with Jonah.” She noted the message from Michael about their date later that night.

“I regretted it right away.” Erica noticed Billie's expression. “Who is that from? Michael?”

Billie nodded, smiling. “We're going out tonight. Dinner at Komi.”

Erica was impressed. “Wish I was dating someone that had the money to take me there. You really like him, don't you?”

“He's amazing. I can't stop looking at that painting he got me. It's so sweet. It's so not what I'm used to.”

“You know we have to meet him,” Erica said. “No point in your going much further until we've met him. He has to meet our approval.”

“He will,” Billie said. “You'll like him. I don't know about Sherise.”

“He's got a good education and a lot of money?” Erica asked. “She'll like him. Besides, she'll be happy that you just have someone to make Porter jealous as hell when he finds out.”

“He already kind of has.” Billie recalled the situation when Porter asked about the gift brought to her office. “He was an ass, as usual.”