Chapter 13
Miles
I expected the heat of Em’s anger when we saw each other tonight. She all but spat out my name after she attempted to eviscerate me with her glare. My standing her up wasn’t intentional, and it comes with an explanation, one that stalls at the hurt pushing against the mask she’s trying hard to keep in place.
Emma doesn’t strike me as someone who allows her emotions to rise to the surface, and it wouldn’t surprise me if part of her anger she reserved for me is frustration with herself for caring.
“You two know each other?”
My nod is for the congressperson, but my eyes are still on Em. “We’re together,” I say to narrowed brows and a glower that wishes me a lifetime of ass-whoopings. “Had to leave her for a meeting with Richard that couldn’t wait.” I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “I’m sorry, baby.”
If Emma wants to curse me to Hell and call me on my bullshit, she has the bullet to take the shot. I’ll stuff my hands in my pockets and carry on with my night if she wants to dead the “my man” charade. I don’t owe anyone here a damn thing, and I couldn’t care less what these people think about me.
She’s a different story.
Emma pretending my absence didn’t affect her does something to me.
Congressperson Daniels opens his mouth to speak, but I brush him off to take the woman who I’m faking is mine on the dance floor. “Excuse us.”
The string lights hanging from suspended garlands cast a glow from the nape of Emma’s neck to the small of her back. My dick bricks at her black dress dipping to the top of her ass, and I nudge her forward into a spin to put distance between us. We settle in a casual sway to whatever the band is playing.
“You good?”
She trips over her own foot and cuts her eyes somewhere across the room. “Fine.”
“You sure about that? The lip between your teeth and your two left feet say otherwise.” I chuckle as she trips over my black loafers. “Damn, baby, can’t you hold a two-step?”
My laugh folds into a groan at her heel digging into my big toe. “Funny now?” she taunts through red lipstick.
I shift us around another couple and subtly shake out my foot. “There better not be a scuff mark on these motherfuckers.”
“If there is, you deserve it.” The look Emma hits me with is too heavy for our usual banter.
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out,” I tell her. “I thought I could get back to the resort in time, but I got caught up with something here.”
Her eyes cut back to me with wry amusement. “What could you possibly have to do here?”
I don’t typically account for my whereabouts but feel the need to with her. “A meeting with two congresspeople about cybersecurity. They were in town for this fundraiser. I consulted them on a couple of projects and had to fly out last minute. It didn’t dawn on me that I didn’t have your number until I touched down. We’ll correct that later.”
“Cybersecurity? Is that what you do?”
My head tips from side to side as I search for a simple explanation. “Mostly, yeah.” There’s much more it than that, but it usually flies over people’s heads. Not that I talk about my company or the work I do.
Em’s lip sinks between her teeth. She considers the info I hit her with, turning it over in her mind. Like I said, I don’t talk about my work. But for her, I will.
“Makes sense.” She chuckles at my frown. “You’re loud and obnoxious sometimes, but you’re also calculated.” Her eyes linger on my face. “You don’t let too many people close, but you protect the ones you do.”
The air shifts to release some tension. My senses heighten, noting the rush of pink staining Emma’s amber cheeks. Her throat works against the pulse points that flutter as she swallows. A quiver surges through her veins when I bring her closer and inhale the scent radiating from her body. She settles against my chest at first but catches herself and backs away from my grasp, taking the warmth of her curves with her.
I clear my throat and drop my hands into my tux pockets. “Want to tell me about your family I’m about to meet?”
Whatever moment we had blew off this dance floor like a wig in the wind. I tell myself not to sweat it. We’re not like that, and we should keep it that way. The draw I’m feeling toward Emma is for fucking purposes only. Everything else is a side effect of not having had her.
You sure about that?
Em’s gaze gets lost somewhere between my lips and chest. She rights herself and lifts her chin once she realizes she zoned out. “I—this was a mistake, Miles.”
She moves to walk away, but I hold her wrist. “You’re not someone who jumps to claim a man the way you did. I’m here, and I got this suit on.” I lift her chin and stare down at her. “Let me help you.”
“I’ll handle it myself.” She jerks away.
“Now it makes sense.”
“What does?” An arched brow lifts.
“Why you and Justice are so tight. You’re both stubborn as hell.”
“Says the guy who won’t take no for an answer.”
“Aye, don’t say that shit so loud.” I scoff. “My mama and GG raised me right. I’d never push up on a woman like that; I was trying to help. Since you don’t need it”—I step back—“do you. Lover Boy has been looking over here since we stepped onto the dance floor. Have fun explaining this to him and whoever else.”
“Wait!” Emma’s hand clamps around my bicep. “This is stupid.” She sighs and looks away. “Just for tonight.” She studies my face. “We’ll keep this up until dinner is over, then we’ll pretend I didn’t say you were my man. This changes nothing.”
“Don’t spare my feelings. I ain’t losing sleep over you.” Her ass is still frolicking through my dreams, but she doesn’t need to know that. Emma and her attitude can go if she keeps this up.
“Good.”
“Good.” I pull her back into my middle on instinct. My hands twitch to explore the soft lines of her back. Holding Emma brings me a strange satisfaction, one I push away. “So, what’s the deal?”
“It’s an election year, which means I get calls to show up to campaign events so my family looks like the united front we’re not. I dodge most of them thanks to fashion weeks, but the ones I do attend are…rough.”
“How so?”
Awkward laughter ripples through the air. “Don’t worry, you’ll have a front-row seat.” Emma pats my chest at the sound of the dinner bell. “Time to meet the family.”
I never cared enough about a woman to meet her family, and I’ll send a prayer of thanks up I dodged ever doing it for real. Who wants to sit through this shit?
Emma’s parents only speak to her whenever cameras roll around. They’re so caught up in shaking hands and small talk about who’s here that they completely iced her out.
Carter has been in full peacock mode since we sat down, pointing out who he knows like we give a damn. For her sake, I hope Em never fucked with him. He’s a clown and a bitch, stealing glances from the other side of the table like he’ll say out loud what’s playing out on his face.
Between us are Emma’s cousin, Blair, and her mother, Lily. The former hasn’t stopped humping me with her eyes, and the latter was already two sheets to the wind before she plopped into her chair.
I nod to the server when my dinner plate touches my charger but quickly regret it. There’s not an ounce of seasoning on this shit.
“Here.” Emma slips a container into my hands under the table.
I cough to hide a laugh once I peep the label. “I know you didn’t just pull out some Lawry’s from your bag.”
“Never leave home without it,” Emma says with a smile. “You’d think expensive dinners came with better food.”
I brush off the urge to taste her smile by removing the Lawry’s top and going to work on this bland-ass chicken. Her laughter is the first trace of happiness on her face all night.
“As white as this shit is, I might need to douse this chicken like them high school kids did them aliens.”
Emma covers a snort and reaches for the seasoning. “ The Faculty is a good movie. I saw it in theaters when it came out.” She shakes her head. “I was alone while my father met with another senator. That movie had me signing up for chemistry class just in case.”
We stare at each other before bursting into laughter.
“You watch horror movies?” I dig into my chicken breast, thankful for the spices from my childhood clinging to my tastebuds.
“Yeah. Not the new stuff, but I love the classics. I have a Friday the 13th movie marathon at home.”
“No shit.” Em at home with slasher flicks, of all things, seems counter to what I know of her, but it’s dope. Also. “What you know about Lawry’s?”
Her lip quirks. “Justice’s parents use it. I picked up on a few things when I’d go over for dinner, which was more time than I spent at home.”
“Because your parents went out all the time?”
She nods. “Something like that.”
Tension slithers back to the table. Emma shifts in her seat, uncomfortable with the topic of her parents. But she refuses to falter or give any indication that their absence affects her the way it does.
“I watched Gossip Girl .”
“ What ?” Shock riddles her face, bending it into a grin.
I shrug to downplay one of my guilty pleasures. If it keeps that smile on her face, I’ll throw in Buffy the Vampire Slayer too. “It kept my attention, low-key. You got most of the cast at this table.” I point to her horny-ass cousin. “Blair.” The prick still eyeing us. “Carter.” I nod at her aunt, who’s a second away from falling asleep in her soup. “Lily.”
My nose drifts back to Emma’s perfume. “What’s your mama’s name again?”
She tilts her head a breath away from my face. “Juliette.”
“There’s one of those too,” I say, my gaze dancing from the intrigue in her stare to the lust on her lips.
“Oh really?” She inches closer.
“Mm-hmm.” I follow suit.
“Care to let us in on your conversation?”
We break apart at the terse voice and face lips thinned into a straight line. Emma’s mother casts a commanding look between her daughter and me. They have the same moss-green eyes. Her ivory complexion reddens under the mound of diamonds on her neck.
“Nothing important, Mother. Just passing time.” Emma straightens and smooths the cloth napkin over her lap. “Did you need something?”
“You haven’t said a word about your companion for the evening.”
The word companion twists with curt disapproval she doesn’t hide. Juliette assumes Emma brought a fuck buddy to this fancy-ass dinner, and while that might be almost true, I won’t give her the pleasure of disrespecting her daughter at this overdecorated table.
There are enough “Juliette” roses to make Martha Stewart sneeze.
I cross my ankle over my thigh and rest my arm on the back of Emma’s chair. “What would you like to know, Mrs. Douglass?”
Emma leans over to brush my tux. “You’re asking for it,” she says through her teeth.
I reach down to pat her arm. “Did you forget this is your fault, kitten? You owe me,” I say with a wink.
“Let’s start with where you’re from and how you met my daughter.”
“Didn’t you pick him up at the singles’ retreat you’re at this week?” Carter asks Emma in cold sarcasm.
“A one-night stand? That’s digging low for a date, even for you.” Blair purses her fillered lips and flips her copper hair over her shoulder. Nutmeg eyes turn to me. “Certain activities should be more…private.”
To Em’s credit, she remains indifferent, evidence of the years of experience she’s had in dealing with her family’s bullshit. My family and I take jabs at each other, but never like this. The only people not piling on are her pops, whose back is now to us as he chats with a man at another table, and Lily, who’s snoring softly on a makeshift napkin pillow.
This fucking night.
“Our relationship is new, and Miles is far from a one-night stand,” Emma says in a tone far too gracious for this interrogation. “I went to the retreat with Justice and—”
“Em and I ran into each other in Paris during the September fashion events. I was in the city on business, and our chance reunion turned into a private dinner cruise on the Seine and a stroll across the Louvre courtyard. We’ve known each other since Justice and Terrence got together fifteen years ago. I surprised her on this trip because I couldn’t stay away.”
Emma’s cheeks color under the heat of my gaze as I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. Her breath catches, and our eyes lock before I look away. I might not date, but laying it on thick is a specialty, and I hit the spot every time.
Blair stares in awe while Juliette considers me with less contempt than before. I didn’t mean to interrupt Emma, but I had to jump in at Carter’s lips shifting to show his ass again tonight. He’s one question away from me hemming him up at this fundraiser.
The only person I can’t face is Emma—not because I don’t want another glance. She’s gorgeous, with layers I want to peel away to learn more about her. What excites a smile, and what brings her peace? T and Jay are family, which makes Emma someone I care about by extension.
Therein lies the problem. I want to help Em, but I can’t allow myself to care beyond the facade we’re creating for her family. I thought we could fuck a few times and be done with it, but it would be more than that, because she’s more than that.
Emma is becoming an addiction, and it’s getting harder to fight the cravings.
“To answer your question, Mrs. Douglass, I’m from Newark.” I say it how we say it back home: Nork . I’m not about to play with these people.
“Newark.” Carter washes the word down with merlot. Shit is as bitter as he is. “Kinda far from the block, aren’t you?”
I rub my goatee and crack a smile. “You learn that word from JLo, Crispin?”
“Carter.”
I shrug. “Brick City is my home. I still visit when I’m not traveling, but my block these days is the one in Jersey City with properties I own, and the house I have in Virginia.” I have houses elsewhere, too, but that’s none of his business.
Juliette’s brow arches. “Impressive, Miles. Did you attend one of the Ivy Leagues?”
“I went to Bodie University, same as Emma. Got my undergrad in intelligence and cyber ops and mostly hop between New York City and DC when I’m not out of the country.” I smirk at Carter and reach for my wineglass. “Not bad for a kid from the block .” I take in his sour face with an amused chuckle. Bro is trying hard not to pout.
I came a long way from life in South Newark. My mama did her best to keep me out the street but had to focus on holding down the house after GG died when I was ten. That woman was my heart. She kept me glued to her hip after school, watching her stories. By eleven, my mama was working a part-time job on top of double shifts at the hospital to keep a roof over our heads once the rent went up. I stayed away from the dope block around the corner from us but ran errands for Shine, which turned into fast money boosting cars once I hit middle school.
I was always over at Terrence’s abuela’s house after his mom moved in with him and his sisters. Had it not been for them, and Professor Jelks snatching my ass up, who knows where I’d be. Not here in a $6,000 custom tux in a fishbowl for snobs who’ve had life handed to them and turn their noses up at someone who did what was necessary to save himself and his mother. They hear Newark, see me, and think I’m an exception and not one of many who’d run circles around them, especially if they had a leg up from generational wealth and not the constant need to operate on survival mode.
This shit—the fancy dinners, ego stroking, and women like Blair salivating over my dick because of my hood—ain’t real, and it doesn’t impress me.
The band starts up as servers move around white linen tables to drop off dessert. Senator Douglass already gave his speech in front of the podium. We’ve yet to meet, and I don’t know if he prefers “John,” “Senator,” or what. Politicians get real uptight about their titles. At least introducing myself will end this round of LinkedIn questions bordering Family Feud .
Emma’s dad and I share the same mocha complexion, only he has thick brows and full lips that now spread into a smile like he’s campaigning for our vote. “Miles, is it? Carrillo told me a lot about you.” He stretches out his hand and nods to the congressperson beside him. “I had no idea you two worked together.”
All it took for this table to perk up was a fellow member of Congress to validate my existence. The only people unfazed are Emma, who’s on her phone, and her aunt, who’s still knocked out. Unlike Carter, I don’t kiss anyone’s ass. Unless it’s in the bedroom. My work speaks for itself.
Lorenzo’s smile is easy. I’ve seen it countless times on video calls these last nine months. It’s a throwaway that comes with a flash of gray eyes that used to sear through my damn soul if I rolled up late to his class.
“This young man is the reason I introduced my last bill,” he says, like he didn’t school me in data analysis throughout college. “His knowledge of cybersecurity and technology are exceptional. I’ve tried to get Miles into our Los Angeles office, but he is a hard man to lock down.”
“You’ve done alright without me.” I’ll save the old man for when we’re not in mixed company. It might look like we just linked up, but Zo and I go way back.
Professor Jelks taught information systems at a college in Newark when I was coming up, and he introduced me to Lorenzo my freshman year at Bodie. Zo was an adjunct professor when he wasn’t raising hell in City Council. He got his start in East LA and translated his hustle into serving his community through policy that reflects their needs and not the shit lawmakers pass off as effective change.
I don’t fuck with many people, but Lorenzo Carrillo is a real one. How many elected officials do you know who handle their business and still get respect where they’re from?
“Such high praise coming from you, Carrillo. Since my daughter and Miles appear to be an item, maybe she’ll convince him to visit.” Senator Douglass stands to shake hands with a couple passing by the table. Judging by the size of the dead carcass adorning the woman’s shoulder, they’re campaign donors. When he returns to his seat, he asks, “How long would you need him out there?” like I’m not here.
My traitor of a mentor lifts a shoulder, tempting the tattoo on his neck to peek out from his collar. He strokes his beard, which has more salt than pepper these days. “Only a few weeks—a month, ideally—to bring new members of my team up to speed.”
“Nah, that ain’t—”
“Emma has plenty of room in her home,” the senator offers. “I was never comfortable with her living alone. Wish she’d settle down.”
Her head finally snaps up from whatever had her attention on her phone. I suck my teeth at the poker game on Emma’s screen and nudge her with my knee to focus. She really does zone out at these fundraisers, but now ain’t the time for games. She better get us out of this shit before I turn off the lights.
Em looks between her father, who’s trying to pawn me off as the boyfriend expected to live with her, and me. Said boyfriend. “Dad. Miles travels plenty for work, and so do I. Living together is a big step in any relationship.” She shakes her head and looks to me for help. You and this scheme are on your own . “I—we’re not ready for that yet.”
“Consider it a test run,” Carter says with a calculated stare. “If you’re not a casual fling, this would be a great chance for John to support more data security initiatives.” His mouth untwists from a scowl and shifts into a sly smile. “I don’t mind representing our office. Plus”—he straightens in his seat and tips his head at Emma’s dad—“increasing our bicoastal presence will help with the exploration.”
“Exploration?” Emma frowns.
“Your father is considering a run for the presidency,” Juliette reveals.
“Not this year,” the senator clarifies. “Possibly next term. I’ve held my position for three decades and am grateful for the partnerships around the country.” He nods to Zo. “If things continue the way they are, I’ll start an exploration committee and throw my hat in the race.”
“To the White House.” A hunger for power flashes in Juliette’s eyes.
The senator hits the table with an excited slap. “It’s settled. I’ll make arrangements for Carter to check in when I can spare him and will stay abreast of project developments. There are a couple of key senators on the West Coast I’ll work with in the meantime.” He leans over to Emma, who’s morphed into an impressive shade of pale, and kisses her cheek. “Your support means the world to me, buttercup. Thank you for being part of this team.”
He stands in a rush to walk after a small group, leaving me and his daughter speechless. How in the hell did dinner turn into cohabitation and me moving to California for a month? I’ll be damned on both fronts.
Zo leaves with a smirk on his face, one I would knock off if he didn’t spend hours a week in the boxing ring. He’s inching up to fifty-two but keeps up with sparring partners half his age. I’ll deal with his ass later, which leaves me to handle the woman who caused this shit.
“If you think I’ll agree to this, you got me fucked up,” I say through gritted teeth so as not to draw attention. Pretending we’re together during dinner is doable. A month and living together? Fuck all that. Emma is fine, but even I have my limits.
Emma whips around in her chair to face me. So much for discretion . “Me? This is your fault.”
“How the fuck does that math add up to you?”
“If you would’ve kept quiet about your job and degree, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I don’t have men over my house, and I don’t need you stomping around my personal space.”
That she doesn’t have men over shouldn’t feel good, but it does. I’m not sleeping with her, but I like knowing I don’t need to toss shit into the ocean. Don’t ask me why it matters, ’cause fuck if I know.
Back to her delusions.
“You need your head checked for real, letting your pops and his nut-sucker tell you what to do with your damn house. Zo and I got history. It was only a matter of time before he made his way to the table—one I wouldn’t be at if I’d kept my ass back at the retreat.” I should’ve pushed for today’s meetings to be a video call.
Show up for Emma.
Have her back.
Look where that got me.
How she has me ready to bury myself deep inside of her one minute and toss her ass in my trunk the next is a hell of a superpower.
Emma stands, and I follow. “No one told you to come.” She cranes her neck to hold my glare with a hand on her hip. “I can handle this myself.”
“You got it,” I say. “Now run off and tell Daddy that. Or are you still scared to speak your mind?”
Her eyes flash, and she steps closer, pressing her breasts in that deep-cut dress I’ve been trying not to eye all night to my chest. My dick hardens, but I stand my ground and follow her eyes to the swell pushing at my pants.
“You haven’t earned the pleasure,” I say with a twisted grin.
She scoffs. “The only place I’d fuck you now is in your dreams. You’re such an ass, Miles.”
“Honest. I’m honest. I’m not one of your fuck boys you can boss around. I’ll always tell you what it is.”
Emma presses into me. “This isn’t happening.”
“No problem.”
“Good.”
“Always am,” I say.
Our showdown pulls all the air from the room. Fury and frustration tangle with a fire, threatening to combust. I should walk away, tell her to deal with this shit on her own. And for no reason other than all of the blood in my body rushing straight to my dick, I kiss her.