Red Hots (26 page)

“Well,
I just wanted you to hear all this from me. I need to go open up the store.
Your delivery items are on your worktable as always.” Masaun rose. Dumping the
remainder of his coffee into the sink, he headed toward the door.

Sweet
stood and followed him to the door. “Masaun, I’m sure this will all work itself
out, eventually.”

With
nothing more to say, Masaun left the apartment and went back downstairs to
work.

~YH~

“CA
Harvey, a moment of your time please.”

“Kindle,
Kindle. By all means, come in.” Bryant Harvey, her boss, rose and greeted her
with a more pleasant expression than the last time they had been in the same
room at the office. His pale peach complexion was brightened by the smile on
his face as he rounded his desk to usher her in with a wave.

Stepping
in, she closed the door behind her. “Lorraine said your schedule was clear for
the moment.”

“Clear
or not, I’d make room for the top Assistant on my staff.” He folded his arms
over his chest and looked like the cat that had swallowed two canaries, a gold
fish and had drunk an entire bowl of cream. “The way you delivered that closing
argument last week I thought the jury was going to call out an amen or dance
the jig following it.”

She
couldn’t hold back her own smile. The news media had been painted all week with
the trial and Dashell’s sentencing hearing results. Kristy and her mother had
invited her to their home for dinner the day Dashell was carted off to jail to
start his four counts of life sentence at the State Penitentiary. Seeing the
small survivor’s smile had been her true reward.

“Thank
you, sir.” She inhaled and began her reason for coming to see him, “I need to
discuss something other than the trial outcome with you.”

“Sure.
Take a seat.” He directed her to one of the two chairs facing his desk as he
returned to his seat. “What’s on your mind?”

“I
know in a few months you will be leaving office.”

“Yes.
I think the press conference I had last year took care of that.”

“Well,
I haven’t had an opportunity to tell you you’ve been a fantastic mentor over the
last two years. I don’t think I would have developed to the caliber of lawyer I’ve
become without your guidance and trust in some trying cases.”

“I
guess it is my turn to thank you.” He leaned back in his chair. “I will say it
has paid off handsomely if the coming election turns out how I believe it will.”

She
lowered her gaze to her hands, folded loosely in her lap then met his gaze once
again. “I would like for you to withdraw my name and any backing behind it you’ve
given.”

He
sat forward. “Why in the hell would I do that?”

Swallowing,
she sat straighter in her chair, boldly meeting his gaze. “Because I’m giving
you my resignation at the end of the day. By the end of the month, I will be
gone.”

Running
his hand over the top of his thin hair then down his round face, he stared at
her. “Do you understand what you are giving up? You would have become the first
African-American female Commonwealth Attorney of Virginia Beach. Few will ever
have that level of accomplishment.”

“I
know. Trust me when I say I didn’t arrive at this decision easily.” That was
the truth. She had muddled over her decision multiple times in the last few
days. After the hours of time spent with the CA public relations team who aided
tremendously in putting a spin on her connection with the BDSM lifestyle, as
well as a tangible level of humanity putting it in direct contrast to the
deplorable behavior of the man on trial. The lifestyle wasn’t necessarily fully
embraced in the public eye, but more understood at least. For that she was
grateful.

There
were times she changed her mind, but she knew for her own wellness of mind and
one day, her body, she couldn’t go on as she had.

Rising,
he turned toward the window behind his desk and shoved his hands deep into his
pockets. He stood like that for so long Kindle didn’t know if she should leave
or not.

Finally,
he turned and faced her. “Why? Answer me that single question? Why would a
legal prodigy such as yourself, who would be an ace at representing the people
of the city walk away from it?”

She
didn’t even hesitate in her response. “It doesn’t make me happy. Before I
become burned out and exhausted then lose heart to practice law altogether, it
is best that I go.”

“What
do you plan to do, teach?” The horrified look on his face brought a smile to
hers.

Practicing
lawyers and judges tended to forget that if not for law professors none of them
would be where they were now.

“I
have not figured that out, yet.”

Sitting
in his seat again, he exhaled loudly. “Is there any way I can change your
mind?”

“No,
it’s pretty set.”

He
nodded. “I figured you would say that.” He leaned forward and gave her a
pointed look. “It will be the city’s loss.”

“Only
for a brief moment. The other Assistant CAs here are just as good.”

“Bullshit.”

She
laughed and rose, holding her hand out to him.

He
stood behind his desk and reached out, clasping her hand. “Does your decision
have anything to do with the man in the paper with you?”

A
weight fell on her shoulders. Her relationship, or lack thereof, with Masaun
was something she had yet to resolve and she sure wasn’t planning to discuss it
with her boss. “I’d prefer not to say.”

He
gave her hand a firm shake. “If you ever need anything, you know my personal
number.”

“I’ll
hold you to that. Give Mrs. Harvey my best.”

“Will
do.”

Moments
later, she was headed back down the hall and around the corner to her own
office. In the month before she left, there were still a few minor cases she
needed to handle. She would miss her staff and the team of lawyers she’d worked
with, but she knew she was making the right decision for herself.

~YH~

“Hi,
Dad.” Kindle walked into her condo as she answered her cell phone.

“Kin.
I was wondering if you were going to ignore this phone call as well.” The deep
baritone reprimand came through the phone.

It
was one she deserved. In the last week, she had only answered calls on her
phone that were related to work, needing to block everything else out while she
finished out the trial, especially when her cell phone had started to receive
unknown number calls and harassing messages as well as those left by reporters
of every level wanting to know about her clandestine activities.

“I
apologize about that. I just needed time to myself. You know, work demands and
all.” She went into her office and set her briefcase down before returning to
the kitchen so she could decide what to fix for dinner. It was an odd
occurrence for her to be home before the sun had set. She didn’t know what to
do with all the time.

“Understandable.”
There was a pause.

Kindle
stopped, she knew what was on her father’s mind. She was positive he had seen
and heard the reports of her in the news, even in Williamsburg. Regardless, her
father kept up on all things pertaining to her career.

“It’s
been a while since you and I have gotten together.”

She
translated that to mean that her father wanted to discuss the issue of what was
in the paper.

“It
has. I plan to rectify that real soon, Dad.” Before he could go any further,
she said, “How about one day I come and take you to your favorite restaurant?”

“Are
you trying to bribe me?”

 “Is
it working?” she teased, something she had not done with her father in a very
long time.

“Possibly.”

“What
if I toss in paying for your favorite dessert and not asking you about your
latest hypertension results.” She opened up her refrigerator and considered the
few things in there. Closing the door, she went to her take-out menu drawer and
thought about making a better choice than her cooking. She missed the simple
but delicious fare Masaun used to make for her. She pushed those thoughts away.

“Now,
I know I’m being buttered up. Well, let me know when you can make it. I know you’re
busy with work. I can imagine a number of cases have now fallen in your lap.”

She
swallowed a lump of guilt. Her father was going to be so disappointed when she
gave him the news about her career. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love
you too, Kin.”

Clicking
off her phone, she spread the menus out on her counter, trying to decide what
she had a taste for as she looked from one colorful paper to the next. Deciding
on vegetarian cuisine, she reached for her phone.

Ding.
Dong.

The
sound of her doorbell took her by surprise. Setting her cell down, she went to
her door and hoped she wasn’t going to be harassed by another reporter.

Looking
through her peephole, she spotted the back of a woman’s head. The lady had a
short, tapered hair style and was dressed casually in a heather grey cashmere
sweater. Stepping back, Kindle unlocked her door and opened it.

“May
I help you?”

The
woman turned around, and for a moment, Kindle swore she was looking at an older
sophisticated reflection of herself.

“Hello, Kindle.”

CHAPTER sixteen

“Mom?”
The hand on the door knob began to shake as she stared into the face of
Beatrice Langston Lauder.

“Yes.”
The stranger with the older version of her face smiled. The woman’s long-sleeved,
soft grey sweater draped at her collar and she wore jeans and short black ankle
boots. The woman’s make-up was artful, but more than Kindle ever wore.

Standing
in her doorway, staring at the woman, Kindle wanted someone to appear out of
thin air and slap her across the face, hard, force her to wake up, because
evidently she was caught in the throes of a nightmare. “What are you doing
here? How did you find me?”

“May
I come in, please? I don’t think this conversation is appropriate for your front
porch.”

Appropriate.
The hell if this woman had the right to lecture her on what was proper. Against
her better judgment, Kindle stepped back when she thought it would have made
more sense for her to slam the door in the woman’s face.

“Thank
you.” Beatrice crossed the threshold and moved into the living room.

When
she started to take a seat on the couch, Kindle said, “I didn’t invite you to
sit.”

Straightening,
the woman met her gaze, russet eyes to russet eyes. “I guess I deserve that.”

“Oh,
you deserve so much more.” Kindle didn’t attempt to temper the anger rolling
inside of her.

Beatrice
glanced around the living room, seeming to take in small characteristics of
Kindle’s life.

Kindle
felt like she was being violated by the woman’s perusal. “I asked what you were
doing here.”

Facing
her again, Beatrice said, “You have grown into a beautiful woman.” She pressed
her hand against the back of her head as if she thought something was out of
place. “You remind me of a picture of my mother when she was your age.”

Crossing
her arms under her breasts, Kindle said, “Funny I don’t recall that picture…or
her, or you for that matter.” The last part was a lie; Kindle did remember her
mother. She remembered her dropping her off at school, kissing her on the cheek
and driving out of her life. However, if she allowed those thoughts in, she’d
have to accept the pain that went with the memory. Something she refused to do.

“I
never meant to hurt you, Kindle. It was just…your father and his ways and then
Dale—”

Slicing
her hand through the air, Kindle stopped her. “Look, honestly, I don’t care
what reason you’ve been plotting and planning in your mind as an excuse for the
unforgivable, I just want to know why you decided to come back into my life
now.”

Beatrice
rolled her ripe papaya painted lips inward and glanced away.

Did
she think I wanted to hear it? Did my
mother
truly believe I had sat my entire life waiting to find out the weak excuse she
would give me for leaving?

Looking
at her again, Beatrice said, “I saw the news report.”

Oh,
shit.
It was Kindle’s
turn to shift her gaze away. Closing her eyes, Kindle took a breath then faced
the woman before her. “So, it made it all the way to Minnesota, did it?”

“Not
the local paper. Believe this or not, but I’ve been watching your career for
years now. I have an album full of clippings of all your achievements.”

“How
did you even know where I lived or worked?”

“Your
father. I spoke with him on occasion to see how you were.”

“Dad
never said anything to me.” She wondered why her father never talked about
calls he got from her mother.

Beatrice
shrugged. “When I never heard a response from you to any of my letter and
cards—”

Shaking
her head, Kindle couldn’t go here. She could not allow this woman a place in
her life. “So, you saw an article that I’m assuming didn’t sit well with your
collection,” Kindle made quotation marks in the air, “Now what?”

“You
looked happy. Out of everything I’ve ever seen of you, nothing compared to the
joy captured on your face in that kiss.” There was a small, almost maternal
smile on Beatrice’s lips.

Kindle
stared at her, waiting. She figured the woman was finally arriving at the
reason for her cross-country trip.

“I’m
concerned though. His association and the brutality of his lifestyle.”

“You’ve
got to be kidding me.” Kindle threw her hands up, disgusted. Her mind was
flooded with memories of the nights and days she’d spent with Masaun. The
closeness they shared. To have her mother pollute that with the same ignorant
beliefs as the reporters in the press made her sick and angry.

“I
know you’re a grown woman, but you don’t want to find yourself trapped in an
abusive relationship—”

“No!”
Kindle shook her head. “No. You don’t get to come here after years of not
seeing me and try and dictate my life. Who I love.
How
I love.”

She
stepped toward her. “I tried to reach out to you, Kindle. You never returned my
letters. I wanted you to come to Minnesota to visit.”

Moving
out of her reach, Kindle said, “Why didn’t you do like you did today. Just show
up on my damn doorstep and say ‘Hi, remember me, I’m your mother’. Anything
would have been better than the coward’s way out and sending me a cold note in
the mail.”

Beatrice
gasped.

Kindle
didn’t know if the woman was shocked she’d used the word damn or by the accusations.
Whichever, Kindle didn’t care. Her throat felt tight as she said, “I want you
out.”

“Kindle,
please, I just want—”

“You
don’t get to want. Because when I wanted a mother to talk to about periods and
boys and life, you chose to be with Dale.”

Her
nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath; then Beatrice nodded and started for
the door.

“Wait,”
Kindle called out.

Beatrice
turned, looking at her with a hopeful gaze.

Disregarding
that, Kindle rushed into her room. When she came back into the living room she
was carrying a long flat plastic case. Moving to the woman she handed it to
her.

“What’s
this?”

“Every
letter, note and card you’ve ever sent me.”

Russet
brown eyes rimmed with water searched Kindle’s face. Glancing down, Beatrice
pulled the top off and glanced inside at the multiple colored envelops. “It
looks as if you never opened any of them.”

“I
didn’t.”

The
tears spilled over as the woman who had given birth to her closed the lid back.
“I’m sorry it has to end like this.”

Moving
past her, Kindle opened the door. “It ended for us when I was seven. Good-bye,
mother.”

Walking
past her, Beatrice paused before her. “I never stopped loving you.”

Like
a statue, Kindle didn’t move or respond. She waited until Beatrice Langston
Lauder had crossed her threshold and exited her life for good. Closing the
door, she pressed her back to the door and exhaled. Her hands shook a little
but they were open and relaxed. She had battled reporters, snobbish
ex-boyfriends and now her own mother. Kindle was taking control back of her
life, one hurdle at a time.

Moving
away from the door, she went into the kitchen to her phone. Instead of calling
the restaurant, she called her best friend.

As
soon as Razor gave Emmalee the phone, Kindle said, “Can you please come over?”

There
was a brief pause and muffled conversation on the other end, then Emmalee came
back on line. “I’m on my way.”

~YH~

“What
in the hell?” Masaun normally used the back door when he came back from lunch,
but as he drove by the front of his store, he noticed the line. After parking
his car, he went around to the front, perplexed at the reason that people were
standing around Decadent Treats like they were in line awaiting concert
tickets. First the damn reporters were swarming the place a week ago and now this.

Standing
there stunned for a moment, he watched as two people came out, two people
entered. Evidently some system had been established by Connie and Hanson to
make sure they were complying with Fire Safety regs on the max occupancy within
the store.

“Hey,
man, you need to get in the back of the line.”

Turning,
Masaun looked at the overweight white man dressed in leather from head to toe
with sweat rolling down the side of his face. Masaun bet this guy had bought
the outfit for a Halloween gag and was parading around town in it a month
early. He almost laughed when he saw the plastic whip dangling from his belt—a
complete fraud. Scanning the crowd he noticed that a few people were dressed in
some kind of pleather get-up while most
appeared
normal.

“I
own the place,” Masaun said, before giving a once over and moving to the door.

“He’s
the owner,” was whispered through the crowd.

A
slim black woman was moving along the line handing out fliers to those waiting
to enter as she called out statistics. “It is a fact, obesity now affects
seventeen percent of all children and teens in the US. That number is triple
the rate from just one generation ago.” She shoved a paper at someone and
continued on.

Stopping,
Masaun folded his arms over his chest then watched and listened to the health
warnings she was spewing. 

“The
American Diabetes Association reported that one point nine million cases of
diabetes are diagnosed in people over the age of twenty. This is curable if we
take care of our bodies by eating right…” She stepped before him and smiled as
she handed him a flier. “Here you go, sir.”

When
she made to pass him, Masaun stepped in front of her.

“Excuse
me.”

“I
won’t. However, I will warn you and tell you that you have one minute to pack
up your live scare infomercial or I’ll have you physically removed.”

He
heard the gasp of excitement behind him. As if the people thought he was going
to perform some sort of “Dom” move on the woman. He knew why the gawkers were
here. The damn newspaper article.

“You
can’t threaten me. This sidewalk is public property.” She thrust her chin high.

“Tell
it to the cops when they arrest you. You’ve been warned.” Brushing by the
woman, he continued to the store.

He
almost smiled when he heard her growl and the sound of her soft-soled shoe
striking the ground. The woman had spunk, but she needed someone to bend her
over a bench and redden her ass on a daily basis to keep her in line.

“Sir!
Sir!” A tiny white woman with a short blue pixie haircut dropped to the cement
right before the door at his feet. She wore a red corset, awkwardly laced along
her spine and a too-short leather mini.

Catching
a glimpse of the rotund faux Dom down the line practically breaking his neck
leaning over to get a peep show, Masaun was pretty sure the way she was kneeling
made her ass hang out below her skirt from the “submissive position”.

Squatting
down, he took hold of the young woman’s chin and lifted her face. There were piercings
everywhere. “Sweetheart, I don’t even know you.”

“But
I want you to be my Dom. I’m a slave for you.”

He
shook his head. “Because of a newspaper article that was mostly full of shit
about my lifestyle?”

Her
blue eyes shifted away from his face. “I’ve always been…curious.” She looked at
him again. “You know, interested in how it worked.”

That
was something he understood. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “You’re going to
get yourself hurt by an asshole, similar to some of the guys in this line,
pretending to be who they aren’t. If you truly want to learn to be a submissive
and find out if this lifestyle is for you and get some training—”

“I
do.”

“Then
when you come inside, I’ll give you a card with information to speak with a
Master Zach, he can get you connected…the right way.”

“Thank
you.” Her gaze was filled with shame, but a small twinkle of excitement was
reflected in it.

Here
was a woman willing, even though ignorantly, to submit to him, when the woman
he wanted wouldn’t return his call. He’d only called Kindle once the night she
ran from him, hoping that with time she would come to remember what they had.
It wasn’t looking that way.

After
helping the blue-haired girl to her feet, he gave her a nod then walked into
Decadent Treats, finally.

“Oh,
Masaun, so glad to see you back. Connie and I thought we might have to wake up
Sweet.” Hanson gave the customer a smile and handed her the small bag of
chocolates.

“We
didn’t want to have to do that,” Connie chimed in.

Considering
Masaun had already awakened his brother once this week, it would not have gone
over well for Connie and Hanson. “You two should have called me back.” Rolling
up his sleeves, Masaun prepared to get to work.