A Good Dose of Pleasure, page 7
Troy had the ball. “You know what’s getting ready to happen, don’t you?” he teased, lazily bouncing the ball at the top of the key.
“You’re getting ready to miss,” Gregory replied, crouched in a defensive stance that showed he was ready to pounce as soon as Troy took a step.
And he did. But his six feet were no match for his younger brother’s six-foot-four. Troy’s fadeaway jumper bounced around the rim before going in. “Yes!”
Gregory gave his brother dap as they both headed for their towels and water bottles near the wall. The gleam in Troy’s eye reminded Gregory of when they were young. “You’ve got me to thank for that big ego of yours.”
“How’s that?”
They reached the water. Gregory took a healthy swig. “I’ve been letting you beat me for a long time.”
Troy’s grin was one of total disbelief. “Is that right?”
“Of course!”
“Okay.” Troy stroked his goatee in an exaggerated fashion. “Well, I appreciate that.” He looked at his watch. “All right, man, I’m out.”
“Me, too.” They gathered their things and headed toward the parking lot.
“You talk to Mama?”
“Yes. She called about the invite she’d sent me; I’d missed it because she sent it to the home box that I never check.”
“I think she and Robert are getting pretty serious.”
“Those are my thoughts exactly. In fact, I thought she was calling with a wedding announcement.”
“How would you feel about that?” Troy asked.
“I’d be happy for her. Nobody will ever replace Daddy but Robert’s a good man.”
“That’s what I told her,” Troy said, as both men placed their bags in the trunks and closed them. “And that was after I reminded her that a man wasn’t going to buy the cow if he was getting the milk for free.”
“Whoa, man!” Gregory cracked up. “You actually said those words to Jackie Morgan? Out loud?”
“Yeah, and I have a feeling that at the next Sunday brunch there’s going to be hell to pay!” He leaned over and gave his brother a shoulder bump. “We’re working a private party after the Lakers game tonight. I can get you in.”
“Thanks, bro, but I’ve got plans.”
Troy eyed him curiously but then shrugged and walked around to the driver’s side of his car. “Talk to you later, man.”
“Anise,” Gregory said, after Troy had opened his door.
“What?”
“Her name is Anise.” With that, Gregory got in his car and drove off.
15
Anise sat back, closed her eyes, and examined her emotions. There were a myriad of them, but one dominated: happiness. As foreign as it seemed, she allowed herself to acknowledge that she actually felt hopeful for the first time in months. Even before her mother died, there had been a pall around the house. They tried to be cheerful, but when one knew there were days or months instead of years and decades to someone’s life, there was only so much smiley face to go around. She’d even taken the advice of an art therapist that her mentor, Jessica, knew, and had painted and hung beautiful art in her mother’s home: sunsets, flowers, children laughing and playing with dogs. Her mother had loved the paintings, would stand in front of them and smile. But she still died.
Sighing, Anise looked around the comfortably appointed living room. Thoughts of her mother were replaced by thoughts of her ex-boyfriend, and the sex they’d once shared. She’d considered theirs a perfect love life. But it had never been magical, like what had happened with her and Gregory. Sex with Joey had never made her feel as though she were floating on a cloud, without a care in the world. As if on cue, guilt began to settle around her like a shawl. Joy faded. Carefree? Seriously? How can I be happy in another man’s arms with my mother barely gone? Is it right, Mommy? Is it okay for me to go after my dreams, when so many of yours were left unfinished? Tears welled, and she did nothing to stop their flow. “I miss you,” she whispered into the space, and immediately felt Boomer’s wet nose nudge her ankle. She looked down at him and petted his fur. “I miss my mommy, you big old mutt.”
Boomer whimpered and prepared to jump up on the couch.
“Oh, no you don’t, you mangy stranger,” Aretha said, coming around the corner. “You’d better get your paws . . . oh, baby.” Her tone changed with one look at Anise’s watery eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was trying to comfort you.” She placed her shopping bags on the coffee table, sat next to Anise, and rocked her in her arms. “It’s all right, baby. Cry as much as you need to for as long as you want. It’s all right.”
They stayed this way for a while before Aretha spoke again. “How did it go with the doctor this morning? Did you get to paint his picture?”
A smile skidded in between anguished tears, and a bit of Anise’s melancholy lifted. Would the emotional roller coaster ever stop? She nodded, sitting up and reaching for a tissue from the box on the table. “I did a drawing with pencils and charcoal. And it felt good to sketch again.” And to make love. “I’d really missed it.” And the feel of a man’s arms around me, of a hard body over me. “I felt happy. And then I thought of Mama and felt that I didn’t really have the right.”
Boomer rested a paw on her leg and began licking her hand.
Aretha looked at the niece she loved like a daughter even though they’d spent so many years apart. “You have every right,” she replied, compassion mixed with concern. “Carolyn would not want you to put your life on hold because hers has ended. To the contrary. She’d want you to grab that steering wheel called your future and ride that baby until the wheels fall off! My mother and I are also close, and I can’t imagine the type of pain you’re going through.”
Anise’s cell phone rang. When she made no move for it, Aretha asked, “Are you going to get that?”
“It’s probably Gregory. We were supposed to go out tonight.”
“What do you mean ‘were’?”
Anise shrugged. “I don’t know if I feel up to it.”
“Why don’t you take a nice hot shower, get dressed, and meet that fine specimen of a man. Your feelings will catch up to you soon enough.”
“Maybe I will,” Anise said with a sigh. “At least if I’m talking to him I can’t think too much.”
“I know that’s right! Not with that fine form of flesh sitting in front of you.” Her voice lowered, softened. “Your mother would want you happy,” Aretha repeated. “And I want that, too. Plus, I want you to help me get a question answered that I’ve been wondering about.”
“What’s that?”
“Whether or not my neighbor has a big dick.”
“Auntie!”
“Thought that would bring out that pretty smile.”
Anise leaned over and hugged the woman she’d not spent a lot of time with but felt she’d always known. Kindred spirits, she and her aunt. That’s how she felt.
“To have feelings of happiness doesn’t mean that you’re not grieving your mother, that you don’t miss her every moment of every day. I have friends whose parents have been gone for decades and they are still missed.”
“That’s what Greg said. His dad died when he was sixteen and he still misses him every day.”
Aretha nodded. “Carolyn will always live on through you. Those memories will always be there”—she pointed at Anise’s chest—“in your heart.”
“Thanks, Aunt Ree.”
“You’re welcome.” Aretha gave her a hug. “Bruce and I are going to the casino on Saturday. I’d love for you to join us. That is, if you and the doctor don’t have plans.”
“No, he’ll be working Saturday.”
Aretha’s brow rose. “Already knowing his schedule, I see. Go on, girl!”
“It’s not like that, Aunt Ree. It just came up in conversation.”
“Uh-huh. What else came up?”
“On that note . . .” Anise jumped off the couch, rushed past her, and up the stairs.
“Hehehe . . . all right, Anise. I’ll stop teasing you, girl. I’m just glad you two got along good.” Aretha followed behind her. Anise would have been shocked to learn what Aretha’s intuition (and the glow on Anise’s face) strongly suggested—that Anise already knew the answer to her question regarding Gregory’s penis size. Aretha had the distinct feeling that her niece and the good doctor had not only gotten along, but gotten it on. Don’t worry about your baby, Carolyn. I think she’s adjusting to LA just fine.
16
When Gregory called her from his car a few hours after they’d parted and suggested they spend more time together tonight, Anise hadn’t hesitated. Which is why she now found herself once again having dinner with him.
“This is nice.” Anise sat in the chair Gregory pulled out for her and took in the room while he walked to the opposite side of the table and took his seat.
“Last night, we went casual. Tonight, I want to show you off.”
“Show me off? Doesn’t this feel like we’re moving a little fast?” Yes, she’d slept with the man after barely knowing him twenty-four hours . . . but still.
“We’re just having dinner,” Gregory replied with a shrug. “We both have to eat; why not together?”
His point was valid, yet Anise still found herself seesawing between wondering what in the heck was happening with this near-stranger and being very happy that it was going on. And then there was the guilt for feeling joy. She tried to relax. “That aquarium in the floor is beautiful. I almost didn’t want to step on it for fear of the glass cracking.”
“You’re probably not the first one who’s had that thought. But I’ve been assured that the acrylic used to create that showpiece could withstand an earthquake.”
“Oh! Don’t remind me. That’s the one thing that terrified me about moving here.”
“They’re not so bad. Most of the time we don’t even feel them. There might be one happening right now.”
“Greg!”
He chuckled. “Okay, I won’t frighten you. But seriously, I’ve lived here all my life and can still count on my fingers the times I’ve felt anything more than a tremor.”
“What does it feel like?”
“Have you ever been in a building when a large truck rumbled past and felt the room shake just a bit?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s hard to explain it. But if one ever happens, I hope I’m there to keep you calm.”
Anise placed an elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “I still can’t believe I’m here in LA. This is crazy.”
“What made you decide to move here?” Gregory asked, placing his napkin in his lap.
“My aunt invited me.” Anise positioned her napkin as well. “Soon afterward, I got accepted into a coveted art program. Everything just came together and here I am.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“I must admit my total ignorance when it comes to the art world. Is it a lucrative career?”
“It can be. But like many creative arts careers—actor, dancer, singer musician—an artist draws for love, not money.”
Gregory grinned and responded, “If only love could pay the bills.”
“If only getting paid wasn’t all people thought about!”
The waiter came to take their order. Perfect timing. Anise used the interruption to calm down. It wasn’t Gregory’s fault that much of her life she’d fought her mother’s admonitions to “get a real job.” Carolyn had loved her, but had never understood that when it came to Anise and her career as an artist . . . there was no plan B. She wondered if anyone could.
“I admit that I’m a bit touchy where my art is concerned. Painting and photography aren’t the most respected professions in the Midwest and I’ve spent most of my life defending my career choice.”
“Which you shouldn’t have to do, with me or anyone else. I admire you for following your dreams.”
“Thank you.”
“So your next drawing can be of me with foot in mouth.”
“Okay, but based on what you just said, I guess I should charge you.”
“Ha! Fair enough.”
As the waiter set down glasses of lemon water, the smiles at the table signaled a silent truce.
“I don’t expect you to understand how I’m feeling. Nobody probably questions your decision to become a doctor. I know you weren’t being judgmental. It’s my stuff, my preconceived notion about how someone like you would be.”
“Someone like me?”
“You know: respected, successful . . .” Fine, sexy, packing . . .
“Oh. Thought I’d be stuck up, feeling that an artsy person such as yourself was beneath me.” He cocked his head and with a devilish wriggle of his brows, added, “Wait a minute. For a wonderfully delicious period of time this morning . . . you were.”
Anise swatted his arm, grateful for lighthearted banter. “Stop it.”
“I didn’t want to then—I don’t want to now.” He watched her take a sip of water, remembered how those lips felt on his skin. And wanted to feel it again. “How’d you get your name?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“I’m not in a hurry.”
“Actually, the reason is simple: I didn’t like the name I was born with. So I changed it.”
“See, opening up to me isn’t so hard.” He leaned against the back of his chair. “Anise is different, interesting. How did you choose it?”
“I was looking at a list of spices and liked their sound. But Cinnamon sounded like a stripper, Saffron sounded like a woman with an Adam’s apple.” She paused when Gregory chuckled. “And salt and pepper had already been taken.”
“Anise . . .” The name floated out of his mouth, Anise would swear, on a sultry breeze. He reached out for her hand, leaned over, and kissed it. “I like the way you taste.” Those soft, wet lips against her skin, and memories of the magic they’d earlier worked on other parts of her, had her squirming. The food arrived just in time.
“Mmm, this smells delicious.” Anise immediately picked up her knife and fork and sampled the braised short rib she’d ordered.
Gregory smiled at her obvious enjoyment of the dish, before taking a bite of the herb-roasted halibut he’d selected.
“I think,” she said midchew, wiping her mouth and finishing the bite, “that this is the best rib I’ve ever eaten.”
“I thought the Midwest was known for barbeque.”
“Kansas City or St. Louis, maybe. Omaha is more steak country. But I don’t eat those as much.”
“Do you have siblings?”
Anise shook her head. “It was just me and my mom.”
“You two must have been very close.”
She nodded and, not wanting to fall back into sadness, changed the subject. “What about your family? My aunt told me that you have brothers.”
“So you’ve been grilling your aunt for information have you?”
“Didn’t have to; she was more than eager to tell me about her,” Anise used air quotes, “fine young neighbor.”
“Remind me to thank her.” His comment was repaid by her smile. “What did she tell you?”
“That one of your brothers is married to Shayna Washington, and the other one is a body guard.”
“She did her homework.”
“Says she read about you guys in a magazine.”
“The information is definitely out there. It’s not hard to find.” He finished his bite and looked at Anise thoughtfully. “I think my family will like you. I want you to meet them.”
“I don’t know, Gregory. I think it’s a little early for me to be meeting family.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to meet my family?”
“No, I’m just saying . . .” The sentence died as she noticed how Gregory’s attention had been drawn to someone behind them. She resisted the urge to turn around, and didn’t have to wait long to see what had shifted his mood.
17
Had she imagined it? By the time the handsome blue-eyed blond walked up to the table with his date, not a trace of what she thought she’d seen on Gregory’s face remained. In place of the split second of annoyance and anger was a genial smile.
“Hello, Gregory,” the blond man said. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Drew.” Gregory reached out and shook Drew’s outstretched hand. “I guess great minds think alike.”
Drew placed his arm around the woman beside him. “Khloe, this is Gregory Morgan, the darling of UCLA Medical Center’s staff.”
Khloe shook Gregory’s hand. “Hello.”
Drew turned to Anise. “Drew Fordham.”
She shook his hand. “Anise Cartier.”
“Anise Cartier?”
“Yes.”
Drew smiled, an unmasked flirtatiousness in his voice. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Anise Cartier.” He turned to his date. “Like me, Gregory has set high goals for himself in the medical field. In five, ten years he’ll probably be the head of ER. Huh, Greg?”
Gregory’s smile stayed firmly in place. “Perhaps.”
The two men eyed each other. Tension joined them as a guest at the table.
“Honey,” Khloe said a bit nervously, “I think our table is ready.”
“You two have a nice evening.” Drew gave one last smile to Anise before walking away.
While watching Drew leave, Anise asked Gregory, “What was that about?”
“We’re both being considered for a very lucrative research grant. Whoever gets it will leave their post at the hospital to conduct research in the medical field of our choice.”
“Becoming head of ER sounds like a big deal. You’d leave that to do research?”
“That was his way of saying that he’d get the grant.”
“Oh.”
“He likes to play games.”
“The vibes I picked up between you two didn’t feel like a game to me.”
“For either of us, being the recipient of the grant would be life changing, and do wonders for our career.”
“How so exactly?”
