Page 40 of Almost Paradise

“Yeah, whatever,” she says. “Get the hell out of here.” I think I hear her whisper deadbeat under her breath.

She stares into my eyes, but I feel a sense of satisfaction when she swallows and takes a step back. Jelani moves to stand in front of her, blocking her from me as if it’s his right to protect her. Insignificant little ant. I don’t bother to say another word to either of them.

Nia pulls on his arm, and he finally looks away and leads her to a small SUV. I get in my car and close my eyes. This is the last damn time I’m going to deal with this shit. She needs to learn she’s not going to have other men around my son. Nia Nash is in for a rude awakening.

Chapter 25

Nia

I send a reply to Jelani’s message. We’ve talked every day since Friday night, and this is the first time in a long time I’m looking forward to a second date. We grew up together, even though he’s two years older than I am. He recently came home after his deployment.

I was annoyed with my father when he told me he encouraged Jelani to call me. I was reluctant to accept a date with him at first, but he’s handsome and smart. He’s always been polite, and even though I only saw him as a friend, I realize that the circumstances have changed.

I’m lonely, and as a single mom, I need to be careful about who I bring into my son’s life. Jelani knows Carter, and since I’ve known him my entire life, there’s already an established trust there. I won’t be making the same mistake I made two years ago when I was in a relationship for those few months.

Since my ex was a single father, I thought he would be a good match, but he showed his true colors after four months.

Jelani will be different.

He’s met Carter before. Like he told Drake, he’s known him since he was born. He knows me and my entire family. He was raised by a stepdad, so he understands how important that relationship is. I’m willing to give him a chance now. Why shouldn’t I find someone when Drake’s moved on with a fiancée?

I let out a deep breath and throw my head back, doing my best not to think about him. I’ve seen him twice this week already and it’s only Tuesday. Carter loves how his father shows up every morning to see him off to school, but I can barely stand to look into his eyes. I tell myself it’s because he’s a lying jackass, but the truth is much worse than that. I remember everything each time our eyes lock, and when I’m being honest with myself, our time together was not all bad. Quite the opposite, which makes his betrayal sting so much worse.

He hasn’t asked about taking Carter again, and part of me doesn’t trust that he’s left it alone. Drake Paradise always gets what he wants no matter what. He’s going to revisit it again soon, and I’m going to shut it down. Carter is not ready for that, and he’s lucky he gets the time I give him.

We locked eyes as I was getting into my car and his driver was holding his door open for him. Pretentious jerk. He was probably thinking that the only reason I’m driving now is because of him. He would be right, though I’ll never admit it. He helped me get over my fear of driving, and I got my driver’s license when I was seven months pregnant. But I didn’t get it because of him. I finally did it because of my son.

“Ugh! Enough about that jerk.” I shake my head and focus on the computer screen in front of me when all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep for the next eight hours. I take a big gulp of my coffee and almost spit it out. It’s now room temperature, not the hot beverage I need right now.

As I get up to go warm it up in the microwave, my doorbell rings. I’m not expecting anyone or any deliveries, so I tiptoe to the window next to the front door and peek through the blinds.

“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. “What?” I say through the door.

“Can I come in?” Drake asks. “I’d rather not yell with a door between us. It’s kind of silly, don’t you think? We’ve, uh, communicated hundreds of times with no barrier. Just you, me, and nothing between us.”

“Are you trying to make me vomit this early in the morning?” I ask. He lets out a hearty chuckle. “And for your information, my standards were really low a few years ago. Not anymore.”

“Uh-huh. And that loser you were with Friday night is an improvement?”

Not wanting to get into a discussion about that with him now or take any trips down memory lane, I open the door and gesture for him to come in. To show him how much I don’t want him here, I slam the door behind him.

“The only loser I know is you,” I tell him. “I’m working, so say what you have to say and get the hell out.” He follows me into the kitchen, and I stick my coffee mug in the microwave. He looks around, then takes off his long coat. I guess whatever bullshit he’s about to throw at me won’t be quick.

I hate to admit it, but he not only looks good, he also smells great. Then I look down and notice the tie he’s wearing. Back then, he never wore a tie with his suit. That’s changed, and not only is he wearing a tie, but he’s wearing the one I gave him four years ago. I look at his wrists, and he’s wearing the cufflinks too. I got those for him on a whim.

I never expected him to wear them to give his speech at the headquarters of The Greater Food Bank. I bought them on sale, but he told me he loved them. He got ready at my apartment, and I was the first audience to his speech. I put the cufflinks on him, and I made sure his tie was straight. He was only gone a few hours, and when he came back, he told me how much he missed me.

I look back up into his eyes, and in this moment, I know he’s remembering that day too. I look away from him and roll my eyes as if that will push those memories out of my mind and erase them.

“Why are you rolling your eyes at me? I haven’t said a word.” The microwave beeps and I take out my mug before taking a sip.

“I’m mentally preparing myself for your bullshit,” I tell him.

When all he does is stare, I say, “State your business, Paradise, so I can get on with my day. And what did I tell you about calling first? Don’t think you can show up here whenever you want. Next time you do, I’m not opening the door.” I give him my back while I indulge in my coffee. I tense when I feel him behind me. He’s not close enough to touch, but close enough for me to smell his familiar cologne and to feel the heat radiating off his body.

When he doesn’t speak, I turn. I make sure our bodies don’t touch, and I succeed. Barely. He looks down at my face, and I curse my bare feet because he towers over me.

“I want to take Carter for a few hours and take him to meet my family.” It’s not a request. He’s just telling me what he’s going to do with my son. The son I carried for nine months with no emotional support from him. The son he abandoned for three years. The son he didn’t give a shit about until it suited him to start caring.

---