in love. My feelings for men were strongly guarded, and the self-centered men I’d encountered were purely sex objects. When I met Grant, I was focused on the grand opening of my counseling agency, eager and ready to provide resources to help as many women as I could get out of abusive situations. If I didn’t pull it together before I walked through the doors of Sweeter Than Honey, I’d be my first and last client.
My finger circling the rim of my flute, I said aloud, “I’ve got to stop pitying myself.” But I couldn’t let go of the pain. I didn’t know how to let go of the hurt inside of me.
Unexpectedly, this breathtakingly handsome man had stepped out of my blind spot and into my spotlight, and instinctively, I’d known he was different from the rest. Within a few hours of having met Grant, I’d learned he was intelligent, wealthy, and an excellent kisser and lover. More important, he had a gentle soul that connected to my pulse.
Once upon a time, he’d cared about me. Wasn’t that love? I hadn’t thrown caution to the wind. I’d thrown my heart in his hands when he’d said, “I want you to meet my mother.”
Fuck Grant Hill. His ego wasn’t more fragile than mine. How could he ignore my voice mails and text messages? Did two wrongs make him right? Wrong or right, my heart ached. A flat line of disappointment stretched the corners of my mouth toward my ears.
Three decades of living on this planet called Earth and I had nothing and no one that I cherished, not even myself. The glass for me wasn’t always half full. In fact, for most of my life, my glass had been dry until I suppressed my emotions and took charge of fulfilling my material needs. Having money to the tune of fifty million dollars didn’t make me happy, but it sure as hell enhanced my lifestyle.
CHAPTER 7
Grant
Damn. I can’t believe I let Red Velvet ride my dick like that yesterday. That shit was fucking cosmic. That woman’s pussy was certifiably a lethal weapon. Aw, man, it’s a good thing I have a healthy heart, or she could’ve fucked me into an early grave. And the way she swallowed my dick… I had to stop thinking about her.
Sitting in my car, parked outside my parents’ house, scrolling through the extensive list of text messages Honey had sent, I squeezed my hard-on, trying to make my erection subside. Since my breakup with Honey, I’d kept every single one of her messages. My voice mail was always a few messages away from full. I’d saved Honey’s messages so I could hear, “Hey, baby. I miss you,” anytime I wanted.
Damn! Out of all the respectable, beautiful black women in the world, why did I have to fall for her? Couldn’t she see how much I cared about her? I seriously wanted to press the CALL BACK button to talk to her. “Damn, that Red Velvet pussy was sweet and exactly what I needed to take the edge off. Trevor was the man for that one,” I said aloud.
If Honey would’ve whispered in my ear, “Grant, I used to be a whore,” I could’ve eased out of her bed, gotten dressed, and never seen her again, instead of holding her in my arms and falling in love with her. I hated to admit it, but I’d been more than pussy whipped. I had put my business on hold for two straight weeks to help Honey find both a place to live and a great location for her business. I’d introduced her to my personal banker so she could open her accounts. I didn’t lay up with women after sex, sharing my goals, my dreams, and my fantasies, the way we’d done. Honey had had plenty of time to tell me the truth. Whatever her truth was.
I’d known immediately that Red Velvet had been paid to fuck me. That was obvious, and I’d treat her as a paid client if I ever decided to call her up. Good thing she’d left last night. Said she had to get back to her son. I respected a woman who kept it real up front.
Looking at my parents’ large pale blue Victorian with royal blue trim, I couldn’t believe my father refused to sell that house and move out of D.C. There were lots of nicer and newer developments in Virginia and Maryland. I shook my head, thinking I’d actually invited a hooker to meet my mother. I laughed. Man was I a fool for that one. “Next time…Nah, forget Honey. There won’t be a next time for her,” I said aloud.
Looking up from my phone, I smiled hard. My dad was standing in the front door, waving. “Son, come on in here. Breakfast is almost ready,” he called.
“In a minute,” I called back, wondering if my mother had ever cheated on my father.
The heart of a man wasn’t hidden; it was ripped out of his chest, then buried six feet deep, the minute his heart was broken by a woman for the first time. For me, that woman wasn’t Honey, but Honey reminded me of Valerie Jamison. Experiencing such excruciating pain was something I’d never forget. No matter how hard subsequent women strived to eradicate the pain or kindle the pleasure, only one woman had been sweet enough to penetrate that barrier.
Other women I’d met thought that they knew every damn thing and that the ex-lovers they complained about were all idiots incapable of making good decisions. What women didn’t understand about black men was that we suffered in silence with major discontentment with ourselves for countless reasons, including a lack of financial stability; but being illiterate, unemployed, racially profiled, incarcerated, taken for child support, wanted for alimony, and verbally castrated by white men and black women; feeling inadequate; and being unable to support our families. The number one reason was that, like most black women, the majority of black men were fatherless. Men were tired of living up to the unrealistic expectations of women, who were never satisfied. The black man wasn’t trying to get over; he was trying to get by. I knew Honey was pissed off at me, but did she once stop to consider how I felt? I doubted it.
Opening the front door, Dad waved again, this time frantically.
“Okay, old man,” I called, getting out of my car. “Calm down.”
I had been living on my own for ten years, and my parents were always happy to see me. My dad was the greatest father. He did his best to ensure I never became a statistic. I couldn’t lie; I was fortunate to have him in my life. I vividly recalled my dad being present at every stage of my life, beginning with him videotaping me being born.
“You’re looking mighty sharp in that button-down shirt, son. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to outdress me,” he said, running his hands down his sleeves. Then he fingered his cuff links and smiled. “I bet you don’t have a set like these. Your mother gave them to me this morning. An early thirtieth-anniversary present.”
Damn. That’s right. How could I forget? Honey had my mind so preoccupied. I’d order something extra special for my parents later today. Dancing my way into the living room, I stopped in front of Mom, hugged her, and said, “Good job.” Then I glanced at my cell phone before silencing the ringer. “Where’s Benito?”
Dad shook his head. “We had to put him out this morning. I’m sure he’ll show back up, complaining he’s got no place to go. Son, is that woman still calling you?”
I couldn’t lie to my father. I nodded.
“Did you ask her to stop?” my dad asked.
“She’ll get tired eventually,” I said, following my dad into the dining room. I sat in my seat, the same seat I’d sat in since I was a kid.
Dad got quiet for a while. Then he said, “Son, I raised you better. She deserves closure. I hope you’re not one of those men that enjoy having women chase you.” He stared at me, peering above the rim of his black-framed eyeglasses. “When it comes to relationships, women are smarter than us. She might stop calling for a week, a month, maybe even a year, but trust me, if she stops, it won’t be because she got tired. Forget about Honey for a minute. Isn’t your big meeting about partnering with Trevor Williams today?
I smiled, thinking back to yesterday morning. Wonder-pussy was not going to influence my decision. I had my professional reputation riding on the merger, not to mention the ten-million-dollar preapproved business loan I was prepared to take out for my half. If I followed through with the plans, I couldn’t afford to lose, either. The real-estate deals with Trevor appeared solid, but I wasn’t sure