Nothing to Lose (3 page)

“Isn't that the right phrase?” he asked.

Erica shook her head. “Hasn't been for a while now.”

The waiter approached their table with shrimp, chicken, and pork
tortas
plates. He began laying it down on the table.

“I took the liberty of ordering for us,” Jonah said. “Speeds things up.”

“Of course,” Erica said as the plates were placed in front of her. “What does it matter what I want?”

“Not fair,” he said sternly. “Much of this has been on your terms. We agreed that you would let me be a part of your life.”

Erica made a deal with the Devil—that Devil being her own father—a little over six months ago. She'd found out that Terrell, the man whom she loved and tried to work with on a fractured relationship, had returned to his hustler ways. Even though she'd ended their engagement, Erica worked hard to forgive him a year ago when he tried to blackmail Jonah over his affair with Sherise. She loved him and wanted a future with him.

That was before she'd found out that he had been acting as a mule for drug dealers. That was enough to make her cut him out of her life for good. But the fact that he'd also involved her younger brother, Nate, with these crooks was the last straw. Nate was using and selling for a little extra cash on the side. She would never, ever forgive Terrell for that. He'd broken her heart for the last time.

Desperate to save a quickly spiraling Nate, Erica went to the only person she knew who had the power to protect him. That was Jonah. He came through, making sure that Nate was kept out of trouble as the police came down on the dealer and those involved. He also helped Nate get into rehab. This was all in exchange for Erica agreeing to let him be a part of her life.

“You aren't holding up your end of the bargain,” Jonah said.

“You make it hard to,” she responded.

No, she hadn't been as open to him as she'd promised. To be honest, she was somewhat afraid of him. He'd shown her how far-reaching his power could go and how effortlessly he wielded it. There was a part of her that knew the closer she let him get, the more he could hurt her if she ever crossed him.

“You can't expect me to forget all the things you've done,” she added. “You threatened Sherise and Terrell. You've—”

“That's old news,” he said dismissively. “Besides, none of that matters now. I am glad you're here. It's been almost a month since we've seen each other. How are things going for you?”

She knew what he was asking. In addition to letting Jonah be a part of her life, his help was also conditioned on the promise that she never let Terrell in her life again. It wasn't necessary. After what he'd done to Nate, Erica wanted nothing to do with Terrell.

“No,” she answered. “I'm not seeing Terrell. Why don't you just ask me what you want to know? I haven't seen him in almost four months.”

“He's not begging and pleading for your forgiveness anymore?”

“He gave that up,” she said.

She was glad when he did. Jonah had done her a favor and spared Terrell from jail. There was a part of her that hated him, but the part that had once loved him—the part that once expected to marry Terrell—didn't want him going to prison.

“Are you seeing someone?” he asked.

Erica stopped just before placing a fork filled with food in her mouth. With a sarcastic tone, she said, “I would tell you, but I'm sure you know already. You know everything that's going on in my life, even though I've told you to stay out of it.”

He smiled as if he appreciated her boldness. “You're my daughter. I'm going to look out for you, whether you want me to or not.”

“Fine,” she said, “just don't ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“I think,” he offered, ignoring her tone, “you need to get out of a funk. I know a couple of choice young men that you could meet and—”

“Really?” she asked. “We've already had this discussion, Jonah. No and no. The answer is always ‘no' to you setting me up with anyone.”

He sighed, showing rare frustration. “You need to elevate your standards. The young man you went out with last week isn't much different than Terrell.”

“Are you having me followed?”

“You like the thuggish type, don't you?”

She rolled her eyes. There was probably a hint of truth to that. She didn't like thugs, but she liked the kind of guys that are from around the block. She wasn't interested in the polished perfection that Sherise and Billie went for. Erica liked boys who reminded her of the good things about where she came from, but she didn't want anything to do with the bad things about where she came from.

“That was my first date in six months,” she said. “I'm rusty.”

The truth was, she hadn't had much of an appetite for dating since breaking up with Terrell. She hadn't imagined a future without him and wasn't looking forward to giving another guy a try. She wasn't trusting by nature, and relationships were scary. She had agreed to go out on a date with the son of a new coworker, mostly just to get her coworker off her back. The date was a disaster.

“Besides,” Erica said, smiling, “how would Juliet feel if she knew you were trying to set me up with someone from your social set? Does she even know you're having lunch with me?”

“Yes, she does.” He glared at her, making it clear he didn't care for her playful tone. “Juliet isn't happy about all of this, but she's dealing with it.”

Erica had only met Juliet Nolan a few times, but each time the woman had nothing but disdain for her and had treated her coldly. Erica knew that she was a chink in that smooth plan that Juliet had to become first lady of the United States.

“I'm trying to encourage her to get to know you better.” Jonah reached into his pocket to get his ringing phone. “I think you would like each other.”

“I doubt that,” Erica said.

Erica returned to eating and watched as Jonah's face darkened and looked bewildered. This was such an uncommon look for a man who was always confident and so assured. Whatever it was he was hearing on the other end of that line had shaken him.

Just then, Erica realized that she was hearing more phones ring, more than usual at the same time. Something was up. This was Washington, D.C., and that usually meant a really great thing, or, more likely, a really bad thing.

Jonah placed the phone down on the table and looked off into the distance.

“What is it?” Erica asked eagerly. “What's going on?”

Jonah looked around the restaurant and gestured for someone to come over to him. Erica peeked around the booth and noticed one of the two men walking toward them as Jonah's security detail.

“I have to go,” Jonah said slowly. “Don't worry. This is on my account. I have to go.”

“Jonah, what happened?” she asked as he started to slide out of the booth.

“It's the vice president,” he answered. “He's had a serious heart attack. It's not looking good.”

Just then, both men reached Jonah and swiftly led him away from the booth.

Erica stayed where she was, listening to all the buzzing around her. Chairs squeaked against the floor as more people left their seats. She sat back in her booth, looking at her plate, her appetite completely gone.

S
herise was in the middle of her conversation about the newest restaurant in the West End that she wanted to try when she realized she was talking too much and too fast. Justin had been sitting across from her at their eat-in kitchen table. He had that barely awake, early-morning look on his face. Suddenly his dark eyes started getting smaller. He'd noticed just before she did.

She stopped talking and turned her attention to Cady, her two-year-old baby seated in the high chair next to her. Sherise tried to take her fork to feed her some of her scrambled eggs, but Cady was stubborn and squeezed tight. She was determined to feed herself, even though 90 percent of her food ended anywhere except for her mouth.

“Let Mommy help you,” Sherise pleaded, “if you actually want to eat something.”

“No,” Cady said, stubbornly clutching her tiny little fork to her chest.

“What's going on?” Justin asked.

Sherise laughed. “She'll die from starvation if I leave it up to her.”

“I'm not talking about Cady,” Justin said in a stern voice.

Sherise turned to him and could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't interested in any games. The smooth, dark brown skin of his sturdy, handsome face highlighted the lightness of his brown eyes as he stared at her. He'd given up the glasses he'd worn since he was twelve and was now wearing contacts. In his thirties now, he'd also recently lost those last ten extra pounds he'd been holding on to his entire adulthood.

Sherise loved the new Justin. He was already a good-looking man, but the changes to his six-foot-tall frame made him even more handsome and distinguished.

“So do you want to go?” Sherise asked. “To the new place? I could probably get reservations even at this late date.”

Justin placed his fork down and leaned back in his chair. This impatience with her was just another sign of how things had changed. Sherise used to be able to string Justin along all she wanted, at least until she could distract him from what he wanted to know.

Sherise sighed, knowing that she had to come out with it. With Vice President Ben Shaplin hospitalized for a heart attack, the last two days had been crazy for both of them. Sherise had used that as an excuse not to tell him about her job offer. But how bad could it be? It wasn't as if it wasn't expected.

“We agreed, no more surprises,” Justin said. “We don't do well with surprises.”

“Depends on the type of surprise,” Sherise added. Was she really joking about this? That was progress, wasn't it? “Okay,” she conceded. “I wanted to tell you, but with Northman's formal announcement and Shaplin in the hospital, things have been crazy.”

“I know,” Justin agreed. “I'm sure things will be okay.”

“They could be better than okay,” Sherise said.

Justin frowned. “You aren't actually suggesting this is a good thing for you? The man almost died, Sherise.”

“No, of course not.” She was angry he'd think she'd be that cold. Yes, she was willing to win at any cost, but even she had lines she didn't cross. “This isn't so much related to Shaplin.”

“What is it then?”

“Northman has offered me the chief communications job.”

There, she'd said it. It sounded so wonderful! How could anything bad come from this? Of course the look on Justin's face told her how.

“Formally,” she added. “No more consulting from my home office and sending them a bill. It's a formal title, a real job. He's going to the White House and he wants me to be his voice.”

Justin managed a half smile as he nodded, as if he just now understood. He swallowed hard and looked down at the bagel on his plate.

“This isn't a surprise,” Sherise said. “I'm excellent at what I do. There was no way he'd want someone else.”

“You are great.” He looked up at her and smiled proudly. “But it's not true that it isn't a surprise. This was a consulting gig, and it had been from the beginning. You're already spending almost thirty hours a week on him.”

“And now it's going to be much more than that,” Sherise said. “I'll be working full-time again and traveling.”

Justin sighed. “Since you said, ‘it's going to be,' I take it you aren't interested in my opinion.”

“Of course I am,” she answered. “I told him I would talk to you first. But, Justin, you can't expect me to turn this down. It's the White House.”

“You seem more confident than the polling.”

It was true that in a poll of possible contenders, Northman was trailing well behind incumbent president, Mark Matthews, but Shaplin's heart attack was going to change everything.

“At least more confident than you are in me,” Sherise said. “Justin, we've discussed this in therapy. Part of the reason our marriage fell apart, and you ended up in Jennifer's bed, was because the spark had gone out. I'm not happy as a housewife, and you aren't happy if I'm not.”

Justin sat up sharply, his face contorting in anger. “Is that your plan? You bring up Jennifer so I feel guilty and agree to whatever you want?”

Sherise was shocked. “What? No, I just . . . I'm just trying to explain how—”

“That is so you, Sherise.” Justin shook his head. “I might not give you permission to do something, so you try to guilt me.”

“ ‘Permission,' ” Sherise responded loudly. “I wasn't asking
permission.
I'm not your daughter. I have just as much a right to a career as you do.”

“What about Cady?” he asked. “What does she have a right to?”

Sherise looked down at her daughter, who was trying to eat some scrambled eggs she had gathered in her tiny palm.

“She has a right to a happy mother,” she answered angrily. “She'll have to go back to day care full-time. It's not ideal, but she'll be fine. And thank you for making me feel like a bad mother.”

Justin's eyes blinked, showing a hint of guilt before looking away. “I don't think you're a bad mother.”

“Yes, you do,” she said quickly.

Sherise watched him as she wondered what was going on in his mind. She used to be able to read him so well, predict his every move.

“I was being a bad mother by making the horrible mistakes I made.”

“Don't,” he ordered. “We agreed to stop bringing up the past.”

“We did,” she acknowledged, “but it manages to find its way into every argument we have.”

“I know you're a good mother,” he said. “And no matter what has happened, you've never
not
loved Cady.”

“I've never not loved
you,
” Sherise said.

It was the truth. Despite Ryan and Jonah, Sherise never stopped loving Justin. She didn't appreciate him, but she loved him. She loved him more now, since she'd almost lost him.

“Do you think I stopped loving you?” Justin asked. “I never have, Sherise. Even when I was angriest, I still loved you.”

Sherise felt the tug at her heart as she quickly rose from her seat and came across the table to him. He looked up at her as she sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around him.

“We almost lost everything,” she whispered to him.

“We did lose some things,” he answered back sadly.

“But we're getting trust back,” she said. “We'll be okay. You remember what Dr. Gray said. We can't be happy together, if we aren't happy on our own.”

“I know.” He was shaking his head as if he was already regretting what he was about to say. “You're happiest when you're trying to conquer the world.”

She ran her hand over his head lovingly. “And when I'm happy—”

“Everyone is happy.” He smiled, looking up at her.

She leaned down and kissed him. Her soft lips pressed against his. He kissed her back, and their lips molded together. She loved the familiarity of this, more now than ever.

When their mouths separated, he leaned away and shook his head. “How can I resist that?”

“You can't,” she insisted. “And I can't resist the chance to take Northman to the White House.”

“So, since that decision is made,” he said with a resigned tone, “let's talk about what we're doing this weekend. This new restaurant sounds—”

Just then, Sherise's phone, which was on the table next to her chair, began ringing the tone of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” a tone reserved for Jerry Northman. She was stunned at first. Northman rarely called her directly from his phone.

After a short hesitation, she jumped up from Justin's lap and rushed to the phone. Justin's expression changed from annoyance at being interrupted to curiosity as he saw the expression of extremes on Sherise's face as she spoke to the governor. She said good-bye and slowly lowered the phone back to the table.

“I take it our weekend is canceled,” Justin said.

“Vice President Shaplin died two hours ago,” she said, still amazed to hear the words come out of her mouth. “The vice president is . . . dead.”

 

Billie hopped on the Metro train at the last minute, just as the doors closed behind her, almost crushing her. She had to chance it.

Having gotten caught up in the morning news reporting the vice president's death, she was already running late for a court date. She was defending a young man accused of robbing a carton of milk from a local convenience store. Considering he was caught on tape, walking out of the store with the milk, she had her work cut out for her and wanted to present the best defense she could. That would be hard if she showed up late. The last thing this eighteen-year-old defendant needed was to believe his lawyer didn't bother to get up early enough in the morning for him.

“Careful there.”

She looked up to see the words had come from a man standing near the door, less than two feet away from her. She noticed right away that he was very attractive. He was around six feet tall, with smooth cocoa- or cinnamon-colored skin and deep black eyes. He had thick eyebrows and full, dark lips. He was wearing an expensive black suit, tailored perfectly enough to let you know that he was very fit.

She smiled nervously and giggled a little bit, feeling like an idiot for doing so. He smiled back.

He looked around the very packed train car they were in before turning back to Billie. “Sorry that none of these guys is offering you a seat. If I was sitting down, I'd offer mine.”

She detected a slight Southern twang, making him even more attractive.

“That's okay,” she offered. “I don't really expect that kind of thing anymore.”

He frowned. “You should.”

Before she could brace herself, the train came to a quick stop in the middle of the tunnel. Billie was holding on to the rail, but the force of the stop forced her tiny body to fall forward . . . right into the Southern gentleman.

He grabbed her with his hands to stop her from falling. His grip was firm and tight, but not too rough. Her arms were bare and she immediately felt the heat from his hands against her skin. Her free hand went to his chest, over his shirt, to help her stay upright, but she quickly removed it when she felt his muscles underneath.

The train started again immediately.

“I'm so . . . I'm sorry.” She was so embarrassed as she leaned away from him.

“It's okay.” He laughed, seeming not at all bothered. “I've learned that these trains stop whenever they want.”

“Thank you.” She smiled.

His smile was pretty addictive and hard to look away from, but she already felt like a clumsy idiot after coming across like a giggling schoolgirl. The last thing she needed was to creep out some guy on the Metro, so she looked away.

Although she basically had turned her back to him, she felt like he was still looking at her. It made her uncomfortable. Considering her recent track record, she had no luck with men and wasn't really interested in another disaster at this point in her life. But she couldn't ignore how attractive he was and that she was sure she felt a little something when his hand took hold of her arm.

The train came to a more reasonable stop this time at the next station, her station, and although Billie had never been reluctant to get off the train during morning rush hour before, she was today.

She was tempted to look back and get one last look just before the door opened, but she thought better of it. This was just a random train encounter. One could have many over a lifetime of taking the train in
D.C.
It didn't mean anything, so she did nothing, said nothing, as she stepped off the train and headed for the escalator.

 

“You're late” were the first words that Erica heard the second she showed up in her department.

She was only a few feet from her desk, so she ignored the voice and kept walking. It didn't matter. She knew whom the voice belonged to and that it wouldn't go away.

Caroline Billings was the head administrator of the communications division within the U.S. Defense Department. She was Erica's most recent boss at the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia, and she was by far her worst.

Erica had been working at the Pentagon since she was eighteen years old. Unlike Sherise and Billie, she couldn't afford to go to college. When Erica was a teenager, her mother died and Erica had to figure out how to provide for herself and her twelve-year-old brother, Nate. She had been in various administrative roles since.

After learning that Jonah was her father and that he'd slept with Sherise, and went on to threaten her and Terrell if they'd told his secret, Erica quit her job in his department. Jonah refused to accept her resignation and instead had her transferred to the communications department. Considering Terrell had moved out of their shared apartment after she ended their engagement and Nate was away at rehab, bills that were being shared three ways were now all on her. She couldn't afford to be out of work, so she accepted the new job.