Читать книгу Chasing Faith - Stephanie Perry Moore - Страница 10

The love of my life was standing at my door. For a moment, it was as if no time had passed, and then he opened his mouth and I remembered Max had changed.

“Dang, girl,” he roared, “you look tore up.”

I wanted to slam the door in his face. “I wasn’t expecting any company. What do you want, Max?”

“I was just playing,” he said, barging into the room. “Give me a hug.” He wrapped his arms around my waist before I could pull away.

“Get off of me,” I snapped, smelling a little nip of something other than punch on his breath.

He moved farther into the room, pushing me with him. “Hey, don’t be like that. You know you still love me.”

I pulled out of his arms, fiddled with my hair, and put a robe on over my flannel pajamas. “Don’t flatter yourself. What do you want?”

“Just to see how you’ve been.”

“We can chitchat tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow we have to take care of our friends,” he said, flopping onto the bed. “I want tonight to be about us. Last time we were together we had a good time.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s three in the morning. I no longer need you in that area. I’m well covered, thanks.”

“I just want to talk,” he said. Unable to keep a straight face, he added, “Well, maybe I was hoping for more. Besides, whoever you’re with can’t make you feel like I can.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “You are so cocky.”

He came over to me and ran his fingers along my arm. “Admit that it turns you on.”

“Do not even go there,” I said, pulling away. “I’m not gonna play games with you. We want different things.”

He stood beside me, his gorgeous brown eyes boring into mine. “No, I’m ready to settle down now. I’m still living in New York. Now I’m a full-fledged investment banker. I’ve paid all my dues, and now I’m starting to handle some accounts on my own. I want a family.”

“You always wanted that. You just couldn’t forgive what I did,” I said angrily as I sank my bottom on the bed. I looked at him. “Yeah, we’ve kicked it over the years, but I don’t really want anything serious anymore.”

Max got the nearby chair, pulled it in front of me, and sat down. “I love you. I was wrong. I know we need to spend some time dating seriously, but my goal is to make you my wife. I’m hoping your interest in the same hasn’t changed.”

Okay, so I was totally caught off guard. But wasn’t that just like a man? Wanting things when he wanted them. There were so many days when I wanted Max to want me in his life forever, but I got tired of waiting.

“Too late,” I said to him as I remembered the anguish he put me through.

He took my hands in his and spoke softly. “Honey, I have dated many women since we broke up.”

“You mean when you broke up with me,” I said, slightly salty, wishing I could have been more mature.

“That’s fair,” he said. “No one fills me like you used to. Most are only interested in my growing bank account. You only wanted my heart.”

The first time Max told me he loved me, we were sophomores and we’d been dating for over eighteen months. I’d told him how I felt several times before then, but he’d always held back.

The day he finally told me, he’d just gotten back from his father’s funeral and I was comforting him at his apartment. “I realize life is short, Chris. But mine is meaningful because I found love.”

“I know you loved your dad,” I said. “You’ll always have the memories.”

“Being home and dealing with all that, only thinking of you got me through. I know I love you.” He kissed me and it was like the first time.

We had many days of happiness back then. I knew when he had a headache and he knew my menstrual cycle. We were that close. I’d not found anyone since then to love me so fully, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted a relationship with him again.

“Hey, did you hear me?” His gaze searched mine. “I haven’t forgotten about how or why I ended things. I’m sorry, Chris. I really do want another chance.”

We’d only been together for ten minutes and he was pushing all the right buttons. After all this time I was still emotionally attached to him. But no, I reminded myself, Max Cross was a part of my past, and that’s the way I wanted it to stay.

“I can’t do this right now,” I said, looking away.

He gently guided my face back to his. “Then let’s not deal with the heavy stuff. I’ve heard a lot about you, Miss FBI Agent,” he said, smiling. “One of only two hundred black women, and there’s something like fifteen thousand FBI agents?”

“Yeah,” I perked up, “and actually, it’s more like sixty black female agents. But I’m about to take a temp assignment with the Secret Service.”

“Wow. You’ll be guarding the big man?”

“Not on this assignment,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll only be guarding one of the presidential candidates. But who knows—he could win and sit in the big chair.”

“For real?” Max shot me a skeptical glance. “Which one?”

“Steven Stokes,” I bragged.

He slumped back in his chair. “He is a high-profile candidate. Some people I work with think he’s got a good shot.”

“Yeah,” I said with a casual tone.

Caressing my hand, he said, “Then please be careful. The more he gains in the polls, the more danger he’s in.”

“He’s already had some death threats,” I said, taking my hand out of Max’s. “But don’t worry—I know how to protect myself.”

I strode to the door and opened it. “Look, I really need to get some sleep. I think you should go now.”

Max took his time shuffling his feet toward the door. He tried to kiss me good night, but I turned from his lips. Then I nudged him out into the hallway.

Ten hours later, Max was walking me down the aisle of the church. The sanctuary was beautiful, all decked out with fresh orchids and long, glowing candles. The nearly one thousand guests in the pews smiled at us. I felt beautiful in my floor-length, form-fitting, wine-colored gown. The serious look in Max’s eyes when he appraised the way I looked told me he really did regret that I was no longer his.

“I meant everything I said earlier, you know,” he mumbled.

I simply squeezed his arm, letting him know I felt something, too, but now wasn’t the time. When we reached the altar, I gave Chyna a warning look. She kept herself in line, and the wedding went off without a hitch. Eden was a beautiful bride. The tears she and Dion shed at the altar made it clear they were a match. I only hoped it was one made in heaven.

Near the end of the ceremony, the bride and groom had their attendants surround them in prayer. I did hope that for their sakes, God would bless their union forever. Though I was happy for Eden, I was worried about Dion’s drinking. I just wanted the best for her.

The bridal party was shuttled to the reception in limos. Eden’s mom had elegant taste and it showed in the lovely, upscale Beaux Twenty Club dining room she chose for the reception. There were about one hundred round tables, each with two white silk tablecloths layered one on top of the other. The ten chairs at every table were also covered in white silk, and the floral arrangements and candles created a scene out of the pages of Southern Homes & Gardens.

“I love you, Christian,” Eden said to me as we stood near the band. “You’ve been a great maid of honor.”

“Yeah, right.” I chuckled. “I didn’t even make it to the bridal shower.”

“But you helped out so much over the phone, especially with your advice about how to handle all the pressure. Nothing’s stealing my joy.” However, she looked away as if her joy was stolen.

I grabbed the hand she wasn’t using to hold her bouquet. “Tell me what’s got you upset. You know you can handle the honeymoon, girl.” I tried to lighten her mood.

She gave me a big hug and and I felt her shaking. What was my best friend not saying? What didn’t I know? As she squeezed my shoulder, I sensed a bit of fear.

“What’s the matter?”

She let go and shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.”

The wedding coordinator called, “Mr. and Mrs. Jones—to the floor, please. It’s time to throw the bouquet and garter.”

Eden turned to oblige the request. Before she could walk away, I got beside her and escorted her across the room. She wasn’t going to hint that Dion was beating her and then act as if she’d never said a word.

“Wait—is he abusive?” I asked.

“No,” she said unconvincingly, holding back tears. “Everything is fine.”

As quickly as she opened up, she shut down. Eden went over to her new husband, and he attentively helped her sit in her chair. I watched Dion’s every movement, trying to see what was really up with him. Realizing he was on his best behavior in front of the crowd, I only hoped Eden wasn’t in danger, that whatever the situation was, it wasn’t what I was imagining.

As the reception got into full swing, I filled a plate from the buffet of chicken wings, shrimp cocktail, and dinner rolls, grabbed a glass of red punch, and found an empty table in a back corner where I could watch the other guests.

Within a few minutes, Max approached my table. “So, you didn’t try to catch the bouquet?”

“Not today,” I teased, motioning for him to sit.

He nodded and took the chair beside me. “So can we at least go out after this and really get the party started?” His eyes smiled into mine.

“I don’t think so,” I said, popping a shrimp into my mouth.

“Come on, say yes,” he said as he ran his hand up my back.

I took a sip of punch, keeping my focus on everything but him. He was making something in me respond to all the attention. From the corner of my eye, I noticed he was checking me out. I scooted my chair away from him.

He leaned back. “Okay, I get the hint.” He reached in his wallet and gave me one of his business cards. “I know you’re real busy with your job and all, but next time you come through New York, call me and at least let me take you to dinner.”

“Why, Max?”

“I’ve been telling you why since this morning.” He placed his hand close to mine on the table. “One day I’m gonna get you back, my lady.” He moved his hand enough to touch my fingers.

That was my cue to leave. I couldn’t let Max back in. By the time I got to my hotel room, I had resolved not to waste another minute of my time thinking about Max Cross. Instead, I focused on my new assignment.

I headed to my mom’s house as soon as I got back in town from the wedding. I loved November in D.C. The leaves were a myriad of reds, browns, yellows, and oranges. There was a slight chill in the air and sometimes a few snowflakes would fall from the sky. It looked like one of the paintings in the living room of my mother’s house.

It was nice to be going home, and I was all the more relieved to know I wasn’t pregnant. I’d taken a test the night before leaving Texas—I was still wondering why my cycle hadn’t come yet. I hoped I hadn’t taken the test too soon.

When I entered my mother’s newly renovated, two-bedroom home, I knew my mom wasn’t home. Her car wasn’t in the drive. There was, however, a black low rider parked outside. My fifteen-year-old sister was supposed to be at school, but when I heard moans coming from her bedroom door, I knew she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. I immediately threw my purse and keys down on the leather chair in the nearby living room.

After pounding on the door, I roared, “Crystal—girl, get out here!”

I heard low voices and scrambling. After several minutes, Crystal swung open the door, her hot-pink miniskirt and tight black tank top twisted and wrinkled. As she straightened her clothes and smoothed out her straight brown hair, I glanced past her and noticed a guy sprawled out on her twin bed, fastening his pants.

“What do you want?” my sister asked anxiously.

“Crystal, what do you think you’re doing? And who is that man lying on your bed?”

“That man you’re referring to is my boyfriend. What’s it to you?” She was standing with her arms folded across her chest, a look on her face I couldn’t name.

When I remained slightly shocked, she slammed the door in my face. I couldn’t believe this. Once again, I beat my fists on her bedroom door.

“Crystal, you open up this door right now!” And she did.

“I’m busy, Chris!” Crystal said.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her forcefully out of her bedroom. I was about to let her have it.

“Crystal, you better act like you know better! How dare you skip school! You’re supposed to be doing your school-work, but instead, you’re here in the house, laid up with some guy—who, by the way, looks too old for you! Didn’t we teach you better? How old is that guy, anyway?”

“Man, none of your—”

“Crystal!”

“He’s only twenty. So what? He loves me. And I love him, too. He treats me good. He gives me presents, he takes me out. I’m tired of guys my age. So immature, so broke, so not worth my time. They’re nothing like Stone. Just look at him.”

Stone was a straight thug. The muscles busting out of his shirt led me to believe that he’d spent time in jail. This brother was built. A black doo-rag concealed his long, black cornrows and a chain with a huge snake charm fell limply around his neck. His lips were black, as if he’d been smoking, and it seemed like his eyes were permanently half-closed. He was obviously high. Stone wore a white tee, Gibrauds, and Air Force Ones.

I did not want my sister dating this boy—no, wait—this man! And from the way he was looking at Crystal, I could tell his intentions weren’t pure. It looked as if Stone wanted a lot more than a kiss, and from the sound of things I hope they hadn’t done more than that. I had to help her understand that this was not the kind of guy she wanted.

“Crystal, listen up. First, you’re gonna take off that miniskirt and put on some jeans. Secondly, you’re gonna get this thug out of Mom’s house. Next, you will get your books and I’ll drive you to school. It’s not even noon. You can make your afternoon classes.”

He walked past us without saying excuse me and headed into the bathroom. She just stared at him and licked her lips. I wanted to bop her upside her head.

“No, you listen up! This is how it’s really gonna happen: I’m taking my purse and my man, and I’m getting out of here! And there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

Before I could stop her, Crystal had done exactly what she said she’d do: grabbed her purse, grabbed her “man” when he exited the bathroom, and headed out of the door.

“Crystal, wait!” I yelled after the black low rider.

After Crystal and Stone sped off, I stood in the doorway and remembered many days when I was Crystal’s age that I watched my mom drive off with man after man the same way. I was heartbroken then, wanting more for her, and I was heartbroken now, wanting more for my sister. Us Ware ladies seemed to have a pattern of chasing after the wrong men.

A few hours later, my mother’s Honda pulled into the driveway, and I went to her car door. I was relieved to see her; it had been three long weeks.

“Mom!”

“Hey, baby,” she said, giving me a hug.

“I’ve missed you,” I said.

“I’ve missed you, too. How was the wedding?”

“Good—Eden’s a wife now, but Mom, we need to talk about Crystal being out of order.”

“What?” she asked as we went inside.

“Crystal has a twenty-year-old boyfriend.”

Sitting on her couch, she said, “Oh, Stone, baby? He’s so sweet. He even bought a big-screen TV for us just last week.”

“A big-screen television?” I exclaimed, sitting beside her, frustrated that she seemed okay with it. “Mom, what are you thinking? That’s not acceptable. How can he afford a big-screen TV?”

My fifty-one-year-old mom, who looked almost sixty from her rough life, naively said, “I don’t know where he got it, baby, but it plays so well.”

“Mom, do you really think he can afford to buy you a big-screen TV? Look, I’m just worried about Crystal. She’s dating a guy that’s five years older than her. I caught them in her room today while she was supposed to be at school. I just don’t want my little sister to become a teen mom or have to deal with an icky STD for the rest of her life.”

“I know, I know. I don’t know why that girl’s been actin’ out so much lately. Seems like I only make it worse by punishing her.”

“So what should we do about Crystal? I tried to talk some sense into her, but she left with Stone.”

“She’ll come back eventually. She always does this,” she said.

“You have to look out for her. I’m not going to be here to interrupt their little private sessions.”

“Where you going, baby?” she asked, as if she hadn’t approved of me going off anywhere.

“I’m moving to Atlanta. I took a job with the Secret Service. I’m going to be protecting a candidate for president.”

“Awww no, baby!” She shook her head as she crunched her face. “I was so happy you were tied down to a desk. Now you’re going to be a bodyguard. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

I grabbed her hand and stroked it. “Mom, I’ve already committed to it. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Like you taught me in life, things may be tough, but I can make it uphill.”