Nothing to Lose (29 page)

“Oh.” He laughed, picking the phone up. “It's just my boy, Chris.”

“Chris who?” Erica asked.

“He's my . . .” Terrell halted for a moment. “He's my next-door neighbor.”

Erica had a feeling this wasn't a friendly call. “Don't tell him where you are. Don't tell him anything.”

“Hey, man,” Terrell said casually as he held the phone to his face. “What's up?”

“I'm not playing around,” Alex whispered to Erica. “I want to know what's going on. This isn't about some stupid infidelity rumor. I've put my career at risk for you, Erica. I've brought my mother into it.”

She could see that Alex had reached the end of his rope. He'd been the understanding friend, who wanted to be more; but now, if she didn't come clean, he was going to back out of everything. Without him, Erica knew she couldn't handle this.

“Holy shit.” Terrell placed the phone back on the table. “He—he said that two white guys in suits, wearing sunglasses, went into my apartment. They opened it with a key and everything. He says they're in there now.”

Erica shivered at the thought of what those men were there to do.

“Jesus,” Alex said, seeming to have the same thoughts as Erica. “Erica?”

“Sit down,” Erica ordered.

“Just tell me,” Alex said.

Erica pointed to the closest chair. “Trust me, Alex, you'll need to sit down for this.”

Alex didn't have much reaction while she told him about how she came to meet Jonah and later, through Terrell, found out that he was her father. She also told him about the history of Jonah's relationship with her mother and the trouble Terrell had been causing for Jonah over it.

Alex ran his fingers through his hair as he sat back in the chair. He shook his head for a few seconds before saying, “Wow.”

“Yeah, that was my reaction at first,” Erica said.

“And he's keeping you a secret for his political career?” Alex asked.

Erica nodded, feeling the pain that always came with that fact. “I'm too much of a liability for his plans and the people who back him.”

“I thought . . .” Alex seemed at a loss for words. He clearly wasn't happy.

“You're disappointed in him,” Erica said. “You thought he was a better man than that. What he did with my mom, her decision to keep me a secret, isn't his fault.”

“But his choice to keep you a secret after finding out is,” Alex said. “He's not . . . Jonah's not the man I thought he was.”

“No shit,” Terrell added.

“There are other things about him,” Erica said. “He's done things to people who have threatened him. He's threatened Terrell more than once.”

“I don't need to know more,” Alex said. “I get it now.”

He looked up at Terrell with a confused expression on his face. “Why would you push him like this, if you knew what he was?”

“I didn't,” Terrell said. “I mean, yeah, the first time, but I was just looking for the money. I got it. I'm telling you, man, I was ready to leave town. Especially now that Erica—”

Erica looked at him and they exchanged an understanding glance. There was nothing left there, at least not romantically for either of them. He'd finally realized that. She felt sorry for him and angry at the same time. He was finally over her. That was a good thing. However, as long as he was a threat to Jonah, he would always be in danger. Erica still cared about him enough never to want that to happen.

“Well,” Terrell said, “let's just say I had no reason to stay here. I didn't do that shit in the blog.”

“Then who did?” Alex asked. “Who else knows about this?”

Erica went down the list. “His wife, my friends Sherise and Billie. That's it, I swear. None of them would do this. You can trust me.”

“Doesn't your friend Sherise work for Northman now?” Terrell asked. “That's a shady bitch. She would—”

“No,” Erica insisted. “Besides, the trace was from your part of town, Terrell. How did that—”

Suddenly there was the noise of keys in a lock and the front doorknob started to move.

“Oh no,” Erica said. “They've found us.”

“Wait.” Alex stood up. “I think it's . . .”

Erica sighed the second she saw Alex's mother walk in the front door. His mother gasped at the sight of the three of them standing in her living room and the keys fell out of her hand. Alex rushed to her and quickly spoke a few words to her in Spanish, seeming to calm her down.

She turned to Erica, who tried to offer the most appreciative smile she could under the circumstances.

“So nice to see you again, Mrs. Gonzales,” she said. “Thank you for letting us use your home for a bit.”

“I wasn't actually aware that I had.” Leeza Gonzales looked awkwardly at Terrell. “So, what exactly is going on?”

“Long story short,” Terrell said, “Jonah Nolan is trying to kill me.”

“Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?” Leeza asked, not at all amused.

“Don't I wish.” Terrell plopped down on the sofa.

“Mama”—Alex reached out and took her hand—“come with me to the bedroom. I'll tell you about it.”

“What has that man done?” she asked, ripping her hand away.

“Mama, just hold—”

“I told you not to work for him,” Leeza said. “I told you he was no-good. That man is no-good. I swear to you, Alex—”

“Enough,” Alex said. “I get it now. You were right all along, Mama. All those times you warned me against him. You were right, okay? Please.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, trying to calm herself.

She reached out to him and took his face in her hands. He leaned down and let her kiss his forehead before they hugged each other.

Erica was starting to realize something as she watched the scene before her. She remembered the scene at headquarters when she and Jonah ran into Alex and his mother. The look she'd given Jonah. She hated that man.

Just then, her phone rang. She checked the ID. It was Jonah.

“Who is it?” Alex asked.

“Go ahead and talk to your mother. I'll be a second. Hello,” Erica said cautiously as she stepped farther into the dining room for some privacy.

“Where are you?” Jonah asked immediately. “Don't screw around with me, Erica.”

“None of your business,” she responded. “So you're adding murder to your list of bad deeds? Or let me guess, this isn't the first time.”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” Jonah said. “The only people I've ever murdered were in combat during wars. I just want to make sure Terrell isn't a threat to me anymore.”

“Well, you've done everything else,” she said. “So what was left?”

“There is a lot left,” he said. “Is he with you? Are you at your apartment?”

“No,” she said, “but you probably already know that. How many men in suits and sunglasses did you send to my place?”

“Erica, I would never hurt—”

“Save it,” she said. “This is the last straw, Jonah.”

“Just come into the office and we'll discuss—”

“No,” she said. “I'm not coming to campaign headquarters or the Pentagon. I'm not working for you anymore. I quit.”

“You don't mean that,” he said. “You're angry over someone who doesn't deserve your anger.”

“Terrell didn't post that comment,” she said.

“I know.”

“He would never have . . .” She stopped after realizing what he'd said. “You . . . what? You know?”

“What I showed you earlier today was preliminary. That was my investigator's first stab at finding out who was behind the comment. Five minutes ago, I got more information. The commenter has a history and uses that same username at other sites. We locked in on an IP address and will probably know who it is soon. One thing we're sure of is that it's a woman, not some idiot thug.”

“Is it your wife?” Erica asked, at least feeling like she could calm down a little now.

“Don't be stupid,” he answered. “Just come back and we'll—”

“No,” Erica said. “No matter how this turns out, I can't come back. You were gonna do something awful to Terrell, and now you're going to do it to someone else—whoever this turns out to be. It doesn't change anything.”

“It doesn't have anything to do with you anymore, Erica.”

“That doesn't matter. It's who you are and I can't support you.”

Jonah sighed and, after some silence, responded. “You don't mean that. I'm your father and you're my daughter. That means a lot.”

“Not enough to tell the world, though, right?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds and Erica's heart broke. This man was never going to acknowledge her. Even if he did win the White House, achieve everything he wanted, she would always be the dirty secret of a man who wasn't even worthy of her.

“Is Alex with you?” he asked.

“No,” she lied. “I don't want him involved in any of this.”

“But you do want to turn him against me,” he said.

She didn't understand what he meant. “You're the only one who can do that.”

“Stay away from him,” he said, “if you really want him out of this.”

“There's no more ‘this,' Jonah. Terrell is leaving town. You've made your point. We're done here.”

“You and I aren't done,” Jonah said.

“Yes, we are,” Erica said, her voice a little uneasy. “We finally, definitely, are.”

W
hen Billie stepped into the Downtown Boxing Club in the Shaw neighborhood of D.C., she was pleasantly surprised. Although she wasn't sure what to expect, having never been in a boxing club before, she thought it was nice that this place didn't have any bells or whistles. It was bare-bones and old-school. Men were in different corners of the main room, using different types of training equipment. There were two boxing rings in the center of the room. One had a practice bout going on; the other looked as if it was preparing for one.

That was where she saw Michael. He was standing along the side of the ring, looking at an older man who looked as if he was giving him instructions in an exasperated way. The man was making fighting gestures, left hooks and uppercuts. Michael was nodding, but the other man was clearly frustrated.

Billie had to say that Michael looked incredibly sexy. He was topless, in a pair of loose shorts. His smooth, dark chest was muscled and wet with slight sweat. His perfectly sculpted arms tapered into red gloves worn over his hands. She remembered those arms taking her, grabbing at her waist, and pulling her to him. She craved it now, and so much more.

Michael didn't notice her. He was focused on his instructor. The only reason he looked toward her was because every other man in the room had turned his attention to her.

She smiled as their eyes connected, but he just stared. He looked her up and down like every other man in the room. She wasn't stupid. She had no intention of getting him back because of her looks, but every little bit helped. She made sure to look amazing. As she stepped closer to him, she could see it was having the desired effect. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

“Hi, Michael,” she spoke softly as she reached him and his instructor.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“You must be Billie,” said the instructor, a Latino man in his sixties, with all-white hair and tired eyes.

“Hi,” she said.

Michael reluctantly made introductions. “Billie, this is Joseph Tammer.”

“Are you his coach?” she asked, shaking Joseph's hand.

“Yes, but I'm about to quit,” he said. “You're to blame for this.”

“Joseph.” Michael nudged Joseph a bit and shook his head. “Don't.”

“Don't?”
Joseph asked. “I'm trying to save you from getting hurt.”

“How am I to blame?” Billie asked.

“When he'd met you, he couldn't stop talking about you,” Joseph said. “He was very happy.”

Billie smiled, but Michael was getting angrier.

“That's enough, Joseph,” he said.

“But since you broke up,” the older man continued, ignoring Michael, “he's been hell on wheels. He thinks he's ready for a real fight, but he's only a recreational boxer. He's not ready yet. He's gonna get hurt.”

“I know what I'm doing,” Michael said.

“You know the moves,” Joseph responded, “but you're hotheaded right now. The way you were hitting that bag the other day, you could've broken your hand.”

“Joseph!” Michael pleaded. “Can you give us a moment, please?”

Joseph nodded, turning back to Billie. “Please talk some sense into him. A broken heart is not a reason to fight.”

“Is it true?” she asked Michael after Joseph walked away.

“What are you doing here?”

Billie smiled softly. “I'm happy to see you again. I've missed you.”

“Billie—”

“I've brought you something,” she interrupted. She held out the gift she'd been holding in her hands the entire time. It was a painting.

“It's my first painting,” she explained, “and it's you.”

Michael looked at the painting and frowned, looking confused.

“It was the moment after we were on the grass at the outdoor movie theater and our shoulders touched.” She looked into his eyes, hoping to see some effect from recalling that tender, yet charged moment. “Then you looked at me and . . . I remember it so fondly that I painted it.”

“That's me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Billie smiled as she could see he was trying to suppress a laugh.

“I know it's amateur, but—”

“It looks like”—he squinted, leaning in–“a donkey in a polo shirt.”

“I did it from memory,” Billie said.

“You don't remember me looking like a human being that night?”

“Michael.” She placed the painting down, leaning it against the base of the ring, and sighed. “Give me a break. I haven't painted in almost a decade. I tried.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, Billie. I don't want any gifts from you. I have to fight. I think you should leave.”

“Is what I did so unforgivable?” she asked. “Do you really intend to ignore me forever?”

“I have to,” he said. “Looking at you, hearing your voice . . . I don't trust myself to do the right thing.”

“How is staying away from me the right thing?” she asked. “The time we had together was short, but it was right. It was definitely right.”

“If it was right,” he said, “we'd still be together.”

“I know I screwed up,” she said, moving beyond the hurtfulness of his words. “I messed up a great thing. But it was a mistake, and I . . . I really want you to forgive me. I need you to.”

Michael was looking at her and she could see that he really wanted to give in, but he was cautious. He was seeing her as yet another disappointing relationship in a string of many and was trying to resist the truth—that she was much more than that. She wasn't going to leave until he faced it.

“I know I've done enough damage to make you want to run the other way,” she said. “You met me at a time I was caught up in something that I wasn't prepared to handle.”

“Are you saying this was just about timing?”

“No,” she answered. “It was ongoing . . . inevitable. You got caught in the cross fire and I regret that more than you know.”

“You want me to accept this back-and-forth between you and Porter,” Michael said. “I'm not willing to do that. It makes me feel—”

“Secondary,” she said. “I know. You were great to me and only asked one thing in exchange. I didn't give it to you. I couldn't at the time and you were right to dump me. But Porter and I have . . . We've worked it out.”

“Just like that?” Michael asked. “I'm supposed to believe you and just jump back in?”

“This didn't happen overnight,” Billie said. “It's been two years coming, my break from him. I'm grateful to you and Tara. You both turning away from me was the best thing that happened to me. I never felt so alone, and I realized how empty and unfulfilling this anger I held toward Porter was. It hurt the people I cared about and gave me nothing in return.”

She reached out and softly placed her hand on his upper arm. She was glad he didn't resist.

“I've let him go,” she continued. “I let my love for him go a long time ago, but I let my anger toward him go this week. It was a painful experience that I was avoiding, because I was dreading the thought of realizing that it was all a failure—my life with him. But letting him go—really go, this time—was more liberating than I could have imagined. You were right, Michael. I'm not fit for revenge. It was eating me inside and poisoning everything.”

“I don't think you're weak, like you accused me of thinking,” Michael said.

“I was the one who thought I was too weak,” she said. “I just couldn't admit how much I doubted my own intentions, so I blamed you. Honestly, Michael, I wouldn't have even respected you if you didn't dump me. But I'm asking you to give me another chance.”

Michael looked around as if debating the best words to say, shaking his head as if he'd doubt anything that came out, either way.

“Billie, I . . . The reason I broke it off with you was because you hurt me.”

“I know I did, and I'm—”

“Stop,” he said. “Just listen to me. I was more hurt than I thought I'd be. I knew I was falling for you, but I didn't know how hard, until I had to walk out on you. Just seeing you now, walking over to me, it was like . . . Being with you is dangerous.”

She smiled. “No one has ever said that before. I wish it were a compliment.”

He loosened up a bit with a smile. “If I'm willing to put a woman first in my life, I have a right to expect the same.”

“And I'm ready to do that.” She took one step closer to him; and with her free hand, she raised it to his cheek, looking into his eyes. “It's really all I want in this world. I miss you and I want you back.”

She could feel his body soften from its initially tense state. He looked down, and his eyes were drawn to her in a helpless way.

“Someone once told me . . . and then showed me that there are much better ways than getting into a boxing ring to work out all that angry energy you have,” she whispered.

He smiled, shaking his head. “This is why I stayed away from you. I can't resist you, Billie. You're—”

“Yours,” she said. “I'm yours.”

She leaned up and brought her lips to his in a tender, yet possessive kiss that claimed him. He offered no resistance. Within seconds, his lips were even more persistent than her own.

“Every lady is entitled to go a little nuts once in a relationship,” she finally whispered. Their mouths were separated by just half an inch. “We got it out of the way in the beginning.”

“I don't have any guarantees that you won't go nuts again?” he asked.

“No,” she said, “but I'll have a good, strong man to keep me in line.”

He frowned, shaking his head.
“I'm gonna keep you in line?”

She tilted her head to the side with a flirtatious wink and answered, “Well, you can try.”

 

When Sherise came home from work that night, she knew something was up the second she stepped into the house. It was quiet. Usually, when she came home or when Justin came home, Cady was having a fit or putting on a show loud enough to reverberate around the house and come through on the monitors, which were in various rooms. All she could hear was the low tone of soothing R & B coming from the stereo in the living room. The only light in the house came from the dining room and she headed straight for it.

When she arrived, the scene before her was beautiful. There were only two chairs at the table, which was covered in a white tablecloth. There were pink rose petals in an infinity figure at the center of the table, surrounded by five small candles in glass holders. The black trellis-designed china was set out; on top of each was a sterling plate topping.

“And what is all this?” she asked, getting excited.

“All this is for you.” Justin, who had been standing at the head of the table, walked over to her, looking handsome in a suit.

“Cady is with the sitter.” He reached out to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. “Overnight.”

“Overnight?”
she asked. “You must mean business!”

He nodded and kissed her again.

“You're the only one who's going to be babied tonight,” he said with a seductive grin. “And it starts with your favorite dinner. Pan-seared red snapper, with shitake mushrooms and leeks in lobster cream.”

“When did you have time to make all this?” She walked over to the table, his arms still wrapped around her as he followed behind. She lifted up the sterling plate top and saw her favorite dish. It was perfect. “Weren't you at work today?”

She felt his arms slip away from her and she turned around. There was a hesitant look on his face. What could be wrong?

“What is it?” she asked. “Please, Justin, don't sugarcoat.”

“It's actually good news,” he answered, “but I was going to tell you while we ate, so sit down.”

“Tell me first,” she said. “The food can wait.”

“I left work early today,” he said. “I had a lot of thinking to do.”

“Have you decided when you're gonna expose Elena?”

It irked Sherise to no end that Justin instructed her to wait on exposing all of that bitch's lies to the firm, but she obliged. It was his choice when to drop that bomb. She only hoped he'd make it soon and would let her be there when he threw in their faces the information that the firm should have sought out before putting him on leave.

“Elena rescinded her sexual harassment claim this morning,” he said with a smile.

Sherise smirked. “I knew the bitch would. I was hoping we could expose her before she got the chance to run away.”

“The office is bending over backward, apologizing to me,” Justin said. “You should have seen them today. They want to offer me the world. They just hope I don't cause them any legal trouble.”

“They're going to be bending over even more when they find out what we know.” Sherise was salivating at this thought. “They'll realize what fools they were, and Dennis—”

“Wait, baby.” He gently placed a finger on her lips to silence her. “Elena admitted her accusation was false. She also implicated Dennis. She basically plotted it as his idea to get back at me and the company for overlooking him.”

Sherise wasn't happy with this. “I'm not gonna shed a tear for Dennis. Fuck him, but she can't get away with that. This was her idea from the beginning. We need to make sure she suffers.”

“I don't know if I want to do that.” Justin grabbed a dining-room chair and sat down.