Always Wrong - Xyla Turner Page 0,30
overlooked all of center city. It was a coveted space, full of smart and savvy people. Her office door was glass with the name and title etched in what I thought might be gold within the glass. This was the type of tempered material that could change with a switch of a button to make it go dark. I knew because I had the same.
She was a scenery person, I noted for future references. Her condominium was high up and overlooked the Delaware river. These things meant something to her, so I catalogued that away for homes to present.
“Ready?” I called as she continued to stare outside of the floor-to-ceiling window.
Jerking out of the temporary trance, she shook her head, grabbed her purse, and said, “Ready.”
We boarded my vehicle and drove out of the city toward New Jersey. We were so busy talking about what types of homes to buy and what we both wanted that Sheryl didn’t recognize that we’d been driving for almost an hour and that we were coming up on a beach. By the time she realized I was stopping, she looked up and asked, “What restaurant is out here? Is that the beach? Where are we?”
I laughed and exited the vehicle.
“Let’s go, South.”
“Where did you bring me?” she asked while half keeping her body in the car and one leg touching on the ground in a semi-squat. Those assessing eyes went back and forth to take in her surroundings.
“We’re going to the beach,” I told her as I pulled a go bag from the trunk. “Trust me.”
“You always say trust me, but you don’t hear me when I say I don’t like surprises,” she hissed. “I DON’T LIKE SURPRISES.”
Moving toward her, I nabbed her wrist and pulled the rest of her body out of the car, pushing her against the open door, and kissed those red lips.
“Trust me,” I coaxed and pulled her into me. “Now come on and explain to me why you want to have your own suite within our home.” I pulled her, allowing her time to grab her purse and close the door.
“Because I want to have my own space. That’s why” was her only explanation.
“We are not getting a two-family home, Sheryl.” I led her to the home I’d booked at the luxury beach inn courtesy of Harvey Black and his wife, Zora Black. This was their beach home, and it wasn’t occupied at the time.
He’d called me out the blue, talking about there had been Jacquez sightings around his city. I should have known that going to the restaurants that I was getting reservations and special treatment for would cause some mouths to talk. Honestly, I didn’t give one bloody hell, but I know that people talk. I needed to tell Noah as soon as possible, because I didn’t want him to hear it from another source.
“Sheryl South, huh?” Harvey had probed.
“Did you want something, mate?” I didn’t answer, because I honestly didn’t want to hear any shit about her.
“Not a bad way to go. Smart, a mover and shaker, pretty. Though I think she’s out your league, mate,” he commented, but I knew he was fucking with me.
At least about the mate part.
“The woman has two jets.” He chuckled. “Do you even have one?”
“Hardy, har, har.” I mocked. “Nothing useful, eh?”
“Oh, just kidding. Just fuckin’ kidding,” he joked. “Well, since you’ve been gracing my city with your presence…thought you’d like to come by. Bring South. Or not.” He laughed. “Since you don’t support and stay at my hotel, like you normally do.”
He was leaving that open for explanation, but he’d get none.
“Damn, tight-lipped, huh?” Harvey mused, but I remained silent. “Shit, I understand. When I was going after Zora, I didn’t tell a soul, but she damn sure knew she was mine.”
If my memory served me correctly, the man had proposed in front of a championship game.
“Harvey, you still haven’t got to your point.” I put the phone on speaker and went to retrieve my lunch from my hidden refrigerator.
“All business, mate?” He was still laughing. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn your ass. South is a fierce negotiator, I’ve heard. Also, I heard…”
“Harvey,” I warned, ready to let this wanker have it.
“Oh fuck, I knew it. You and South are together. You don’t get territorial about anyone, last I checked.” He was outright laughing. The son of a bitch was baiting me.
“How can I help?” he finally asked.
“Why?” I replied.
“I found love, man. Zora’s the best thing