If I Were Your Woman

Terri cracked up laughing. “That’s the move, girl.”

“So I figure that between the two of us, we can’t help but win. I have my business license. The business is in my name and if you’re willing to come on board, I’d be willing to make you a partner after a year of working together.” She’d thought about making a Terri a partner from the beginning, but she didn’t want to risk the chance that things wouldn’t work out and then get ugly between them.

Terri puckered her lips in thought. “I’ve already left my job since I’m seeing Michael on a regular basis now. I have plenty of money saved. So that’s not an issue.” She focused on Stephanie. “How about this? How about we work on projects together as long”—she raised a finger to make a point—“as I can still freelance? I get a commission from you for the things we do together, based on the value of the job, and at the end of the year we take a look at the partner thing and see how we feel.” She leaned back in her chair and waited.

She couldn’t think of a better offer if she’d come up with it herself. It was perfect, support without lifelong commitment. The best part was that with Terri still doing her own thing, there was no real need for an office—at least not now.

“Sounds more than fair to me. I can have a letter of agreement drafted for you to take a look at…say next week.”

“Not a problem.”

Stephanie leaned forward, bracing her forearms on the desk. “Not to get all up in your business, but how are things going with you and Michael?”

Michael Townsend was a partner at Sterns and Blac, a major player in the media game. According to the little that Terri had divulged, there were major no-nos with regard to relationships between staff members, particularly upper management and employees. Terri felt so strongly about pursuing her relationship with Michael that she’d recently resigned from her job to make it happen—after she’d won the annual competition—which was the whole Pause Man campaign.

Terri beamed. “Things are going great. Different but great. After we spent that weekend together during the holidays, it’s been full steam ahead. I’m happy, really happy. I do miss going into the office. But now my reward at the end of the day is a helluva lot better than just punching out!”

“I’m glad to hear it. I know how difficult it can be with on the job love affairs.” She glanced away.

“You have experience, I take it?”

“Yes, and I have nothing good to report,” she said, trying to make light of it. “But I’m glad things are working out for you.”

“If you ever want to talk about it…”

Stephanie forced a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. By the way, are you busy this weekend?”

“Hmm, nothing special. Why?”

“The girls are getting together for a long-overdue girls’ night over at Barbara’s house and we’d love for you to join us.”

Terri’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Wow. Thanks. Can I let you know before the end of the week?”

“Sure. Just give me a call.”

Terri nodded and began collecting her papers. “I will.” She stood, then reached for her coat. “I’ll keep you posted on how the eliminations are coming along.” She draped her coat over her arm.

Stephanie came from behind the desk. “I’ll walk you out.”

When they reached the main floor, Elizabeth was just stepping behind the front desk.

“Hey, Ellie, you remember Terri.”

“Of course. How are you? How’s the campaign going?”

“Things are going great. I was just telling Stephanie that I hope to have the finalists weeded out by the end of the month so that we can make a Valentine’s Day announcement.”

“That would be perfect. I’m excited to see who makes the cut. I told Ron he needs to enter, but he wouldn’t hear of it.” She laughed.

“Ron was our contractor when we were getting the spa together. He decided to fix a little more than hardwood floors and plumbing.” Stephanie winked at Elizabeth.

“Girl, you need to stop.” She giggled, then looked at Terri and lowered her voice. “But she’s right. And he makes sure all the parts are working on a regular basis.”

Stephanie shook her head in amusement. “Ellie, you are getting to be too much. Come on, Terri, before she tells us more than we need to know.”

Terri waved goodbye. “See you, Elizabeth, and don’t hurt that man!”

“I really like your friends,” Terri said as they approached the door.

“Yeah, they’re pretty special. So hopefully you can join us on Friday and get to know them.”

“I’ll certainly try.”

Drew opened the door for them and helped Terri into her coat. “Have a nice day.”

“Thank you. You do the same.” She turned to Stephanie. “I’ll call you.”

Stephanie watched for a moment as Terri got into her BMW and pulled off.

With that bit of business out of the way and nothing imminent to distract her, she was again faced with her own dilemma. She’d have to tell Tony and she knew immediately what his reaction was going to be. Go to the police. She heaved a sigh and walked back toward the office. Maybe it was just a onetime event. Marilyn had a moment of stupidity and that would be the end of it.

For now she’d leave it alone. But if that crazy woman contacted her again—it was on.

It was close to five by the time Tony got back into the city. He thought about going straight to the spa, sweeping Stephanie off her feet, and taking her to a romantic dinner. She’d left him two messages on his cell phone and he’d intentionally not returned her calls. His conscience was getting the best of him. He knew he was simply avoiding the inevitable—another lie. But the phone was certainly easier than looking her in the face with his latest fabricated story.

He tossed his camera bag onto the couch, rotated his stiff neck, and went to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He chugged it down as he went over in his head what he was going to tell Stephanie. They were supposed to be getting together tonight, but he knew he wasn’t up for it.

He pulled his cell phone from the clip on his belt and hit speed-dial. Stephanie answered on the second ring.

“There you are,” she said, her voice full of cheer. “I left you a couple of messages earlier. You must have been really busy.”

“Yeah, I was. I’m sorry.”

“So how did your meeting go?” She bent down and peered into the recesses of her refrigerator.

“Uh, it went fine. I’ll know for sure in a few days.”

“I’m sure you knocked ’em dead. Who was it anyway?”

“Oh, another corporate client. Needs a company brochure done. Wants shots of the interiors, staff, stuff like that.”

“Well, I don’t see how they wouldn’t hire you on the spot. You’re the best photographer this side of the Mississippi!” She giggled.

“You’re biased.”

“Could be.” She got an apple from the veggie tray and took a bite. “I’m starved. Are we going out or do you want me to fix us something?”

“That’s the other reason for my call. I know this is late notice, but I was hoping maybe we could make it tomorrow night. I’m really beat.”

Stephanie frowned. “Oh. Okay. Sure.” She waited a beat. “I guess that means you’re not coming by tonight either.”

“If you really want me to I can, but I wouldn’t be much good.” He feigned a yawn.

“You sound tired. Listen, it’s no big deal. Get some rest and we can get together tomorrow.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I know you will. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Are you going to be around?”

“I do have an appointment in the morning. After that I’ll be at the spa.”

“I’ll call you after lunch and we can decide what we want to do then.”

“Sounds good.”

He yawned again.

“I’m hanging up before you fall asleep on me.”

“I’m sorry. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Rest well.”

“Thanks.” He disconnected the call.

Tony stood there with the phone in his hand. He was going to have to tell her sooner or later about Joy. But when he did, he knew it would mean becoming something that he couldn’t—a father. He hadn’t accepted his role in five years and he didn’t think he would anytime soon.

Stephanie meandered into her bedroom, plopped down on her bed, and aimed the remote at the television. A stream of images flashed in front of her as she aimlessly surfed. She finally settled on a Lifetime episode, Presumed Innocent.

It was probably best that Tony hadn’t come by, she thought. She didn’t want to have to tell him about Marilyn’s phone call because without a doubt Tony would be a man and feel that he must fix it. And fix it would be calling the police.

It was Tony who’d finally convinced her to take out the restraining order in the first place. He’d even driven her to the courthouse.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized what a good guyTony Dixon was. He was caring, sexy as all hell, talented, funny, could outcook her with his eyes closed, and most of all he was honest. That’s what she appreciated the most.

She’d lived a life of deceit for two years with Conrad. She lied to herself, lied to her friends. No more. As a matter of fact, first thing tomorrow she was going to tell Tony what happened.

The scene on the television caught her attention.

It was Bonnie Bedilia facing her on-screen husband, Harrison Ford, as she calmly, dispassionately explained to him why she had no choice but to murder his mistress. She never thought that he would get blamed for it.

Stephanie felt a jolt and aimed the remote, finally landing on Home Shopping Network. She shook her head. She was being silly, totally overreacting. She glanced at the phone next to the bed, reached for it, and took it off the hook.

When her doorbell suddenly rang a half hour later, her already stiff spine nearly snapped in half. She scrambled from the bed and darted up front to the intercom. Her mind raced through a montage of scenarios—all of which ended with a showdown between her and Marilyn and her winding up on the eleven o’clock news.

Stephanie pressed Talk. “Who?”

“Why you not answering ya damned phone?”

She released a sigh of relief. She buzzed the lobby door. Moments later Ann Marie was standing at her front door with a bottle tucked under her arm.

“How do you know I’m not busy?” Stephanie challenged as Ann Marie, barely reaching Stephanie’s shoulder, brushed by her.

“If you were, you wouldn’t have answered your door either.” She winked at Stephanie, took off her coat, and muttered something about the growing cold outside, then proceeded to make herself comfortable on the couch. “So…did you tell him?”

Stephanie averted her gaze. “No. I would have…maybe…but he was too tired to come over tonight. I figured it could wait.”

“Hmm,” Ann Marie murmured. “No more calls?”

“No.”

“Good. I know you may not like this, but I spoke to Sterling about it.”

Sterling Chambers was the man who finally captured the tough heart of Ann Marie Dennis and forever wrenched her away from the memory of her ex-husband, Terrance Bishop.

Stephanie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t you keep anything secret from that man?”

Ann Marie grinned. “Only where I learned some of my bedroom tricks.” She winked.

“You are terrible.” She sat down. “Well, since you spilled the beans, what did your live-in attorney say?”

“’Im say a restraining order is only a piece of paper and if someone really wants to get to a person a piece of paper won’t stop them.”

Stephanie’s brows rose and fell. “Gee, that’s comforting,” she said, full of sarcasm.

“That’s why me stop by, won’ make sure you’re okay.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“’Im also say, when a piece of paper fail, boyfriends, big brothers, and fathers can make a difference.”

“That lets me out on all counts…except for the boyfriend part. But I don’t want Tony going around threatening anyone.”

“No brothers?”

“No. Just me and Samantha.”

“What about your dad? I never hear you talk about ’im.”

Stephanie drew herself up. “Nothing to talk about, really. He’s been gone so long that if he ran me over with a truck I wouldn’t know who he was.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s been a long time. He was never in my life.”

“It’s hard on boys not having their pops, but it’s hard on girls, too.” She smiled sadly. “Your pops is a girl’s first love. I know not having her pop around affected Raquel. For years I felt guilty about taking her away from Jamaica and her family there. But it was either save myself or turn my soul over to Terrance. I chose to save my soul.”

“I always wondered if the decisions I’d made about men and relationships had anything to do with not having a father around.”

Ann Marie shrugged. “Could be.”

“Well, I’d prefer not to travel down that particular memory lane. What’s in the bag?”

Ann Marie took out the bottle of Alize and put it ceremoniously on the center of the smoked-glass coffee table. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“Let me break out the glasses.”

They shared a couple of glasses of wine and chatted about inconsequential things and about getting together on Friday before Ann Marie announced that she needed to be getting home.

Stephanie walked her to the door. “Thanks, Ann.”

Ann Marie looked up at Stephanie. “For what?”

“For coming by, bringing wine, being a friend.”

Ann Marie waved her hand. “Oh, chile, please, I was in the neighborhood and Sterling only drinks cognac.”

Stephanie smiled, knowing the truth behind the words. Ann Marie was really a good person beneath her tough girl exterior.

“Tell him I said hello.”

Ann Marie waved and walked out. Stephanie slowly closed the door. With the impromptu visit from Ann, the two glasses of wine, and mindless girl talk, she found herself actually feeling relaxed for the first time since she woke up. Maybe she’d get a good night’s sleep after all.

She turned out the lights in the front of the apartment and walked off toward her bedroom.

A light snow had begun to fall. From the car parked out front, he watched the lights go out. He’d seen Ann Marie when she went in, watched her leave, and assumed that Stephanie was now alone. He knew he shouldn’t have come here. He had no right, not after everything that had happened. Stephanie had every right to hate him. All he wanted was a chance to make things right between them—when the time was right. He’d learned how to be patient.

Sighing heavily but resigned, he turned on the ignition and headlights, then drove off.

Chapter 3

“Please tell me that was the last guest for the day,” Elizabeth said to Carmen, the part-time receptionist. She plopped down on the stool next to Carmen behind the desk.

“Yes, Mrs. Lewis.”

“Oh, please,” Ellie said with a chuckle, “don’t call me Mrs. Lewis. It makes me feel so old.”

Carmen grinned, flashing incredible dimples. “I’ll keep that in mind. Do you want me to close up?”

“No, I’ll finish up. I’m meeting someone in about a half hour.”

“Okay. The day’s receipts from the café are tallied and in the safe. I must have taken at least a dozen calls about membership. I put the list in the pending file.”

Elizabeth blew out a breath. “And the beat goes on, as the Whispers would say.”

Carmen frowned in confusion.

Elizabeth waved her hand in dismissal. “Before your time. Go on home, get some rest. Looks like we’re going to have a bit of snow before the night is over. Maybe that will keep some of the fellas at home tomorrow.”

“Doubt it,” Carmen quipped. “This is the next best thing to a quick getaway for most of them. Besides, seeing a string of men hour after hour ain’t half-bad for a day’s work, ya know.”

“That’s what all the girls say.”

“Well, good night, Mrs…. I mean Ms. Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth or Ellie is fine.”

Carmen drew in a breath, picked up her purse and coat. “I’ll get it together. Promise.” She waved goodbye and headed for the door.

Elizabeth was exhausted. When she’d told the girls that she was willing to manage Pause, she didn’t imagine that it would be quite the booming success that it had become and all the work that it would entail. She was the only one of the quartet who actually worked at the spa full-time. Not to mention that she lived on the top floor. At times she felt that she lived and breathed Pause for Men. She was looking forward to getting away even if it was only to have dinner at her twin daughters’ restaurant.

She checked her watch. Ron would be there to pick her up in about an hour. She wanted to do a quick check of the premises and hopefully get a chance to freshen up before he arrived.

Elizabeth started in the basement, made sure all the machines were turned off and the used towels were in the bins for pickup by the laundry service in the morning. The café on the first floor was locked up tight, and the exercise rooms were in order. She wiped down the machines with disinfectant, then went upstairs to the lounge. Satisfied, she hurried upstairs to her top-floor apartment, took a quick shower, and changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater.

Looking at herself in the mirror she had to shake her head in amazement. A year ago, she wouldn’t have thought twice about putting on a pair of jeans to go out—at least no farther than the corner store. But since her emancipation from her twenty-five-year marriage to Matthew, a lot about her had changed. She owed it all to Ron. He introduced a side of her that she had buried under the guise of what she believed a wife should be: a good homemaker, mother, and dutiful wife. Her entire existence for more than two decades had been dedicated to her family and keeping a pristine home.

At times she missed the house that she had so lovingly created over the years. But her freedom was worth the loss.

She peered a bit closer toward the mirror, noticed some extra gray around the edges of her hair, and made a mental note to make a salon appointment. She applied her lipstick, just as her doorbell rang.

She walked to the front of the two-bedroom apartment and pressed the intercom, thankful once again that she’d listened to Ron and had it installed when they were renovating the building. It definitely cut down on the wear and tear of running up and down the stairs to answer the door or yelling out the window—a practice that she abhorred.

“Who?”

“Ron.”

She buzzed him in and went to get her purse from the bedroom. No matter how many times she heard his voice or looked at his face, she still got that little tingle in the pit of her stomach and her pulse would kick up a notch. Being with Ron Powers was like being a young girl in love again.

Moments later he was knocking on her front door.

“Come in. It’s open,” she called out as she came from the back of the apartment.

“Hey, baby.”

Her breath bunched into a knot in her throat. She suddenly felt shy and uncertain with him looking at her as if she were the appetizer before the main course.

Ron moved with power and ease across the floor. He tilted up her chin and softly kissed her lips. “Hmm, I’ve been waiting for that all day.”

“Have you?” she said in a whisper.

“Yeah, that and more. But we’ll work that out when we get back.” He kissed her again before moving away. “We better get going so we can get back before it really gets bad out there.”

“Okay, let me grab my coat.” She took her tan wool coat out of the closet and a chocolate colored scarf. “Ready.”

“Oh, I brought a friend of mine along. He’s down in the car. I hope you don’t mind,” he said as he closed the door behind them.

“No, not at all. Is he joining us for dinner?”

“Yeah. I felt kinda bad. He doesn’t have any family or anything.”

“A friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

The streets were coated in a layer of white, the flakes continuing to fall, the streetlights giving them an iridescent glow.

“The first snowfall is so beautiful.”

“This will be our first winter together,” Ron said. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I can’t wait to make love to you with the snow falling outside the window.” He nibbled her ear and she giggled.

“Behave in front of company,” she playfully warned as he opened the car door for her.

He darted around to the other side and hopped in. “Elizabeth, this is Ali Aziz. We go way back. He just moved up here from Atlanta last month and joined my construction crew. Best carpenter in the biz.” He chuckled and turned on the car.

Elizabeth twisted around in her seat. A hint of something familiar struck her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She supposed she was thrown off by the fact that he was older than she’d expected. A good-looking man, in the “I’ve seen the world” kind of way. Medium brown complexion, soft, almost sad eyes, sharp cheekbones that seemed to almost cut through his skin, full lips, and a broad nose. He was a big man. She could tell that much even though he was sitting down, and when he stretched his hand across the seat to shake hers, her fingers disappeared.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“You too. Ron hasn’t stopped talking about you. I feel like I know you already,” he said in a barely discernible southern drawl.

Ron slowly pulled off and headed for Delectables, the health food restaurant owned by Elizabeth’s twin daughters, Dawne and Desiree.

By the time they arrived the wind had kicked up a notch, but the snow had stopped. They hurried inside and were enveloped in warmth and mouthwatering aromas.

Desiree came up to greet them. “Hey, Mom.” She kissed her cheek, then turned to Ron and gave him a quick hug. “Good to see you,” she said to him.

“This is my friend Ali Aziz. He works on the crew. Ali, this is one of the twins.” He chuckled. “I’m still working on telling them apart.”

Desiree stuck out her hand. “I’m Desiree Lewis. I’m the cute one. You’ll see when you meet my sister.” She stuck out her tongue at Ron.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ali said.

“I was hoping you would still make it,” Dawne said, walking up to the group. “Getting pretty bad out there.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m Dawne. I’m sure my sister told you she was the cute one, but that’s the lie she tells everyone.” She extended her hand to Ali.

He laughed. “Ali Aziz. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you work with Ron?” Dawne asked.

“Yes, started about a month ago.”

“Don’t let him work you to death,” Desiree said.

He jerked his head in Ron’s direction and smiled. “Tell him that.”

“You’re gonna give me a bad name, man. Let’s get settled before you have them thinking all kinds of awful things about me.”

“Sit anywhere. You guys are our last customers for the day. We were getting the menu prepared for tomorrow for the spa,” Dawne said.

Desiree went to lock the front door.

“Let me know when you’re ready to order,” Dawne said, then headed back to the kitchen.

They took a booth and sat down.

“How long have you two known each other?” Elizabeth asked.

Ron and Ali looked at each other as they mentally calculated the years.

“A long time,” they said in unison, then laughed.

“I met this guy when he was young,” Ron said, hooking his thumb toward Ali.

“We both were. You were no more than a kid at the time.”

“How did you meet?”

“At a Black Panther meeting,” Ron said.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened with interest. “Really? Ron told us all about his ‘revolution days.’” She leaned forward, not wanting to miss a word.

“I was heading up a local chapter, and this scrawny kid comes in—”

“See, this is how stories get distorted. I was nevah scrawny!”

They alternated in their storytelling, making light of some intense situations with the marches, the raids by police, and the tension of those days. It was all so fascinating that the meal and two hours had flown by.