Chapter 9 Remy #2
I kept reading. His resume was actually impressive for someone in this space. He had been a keynote speaker and received many awards for his work. Then I clicked his personal bio again and scrolled to the bottom. Born in 1973 and raised in the Bronx, New York.
He supposedly grew up in an underserved area. Yet there were no details about his family. None about his schooling. Nothing about his life before the accident that “inspired” him.
For a man who’d experienced something life-shattering enough to change his purpose, he shared almost nothing personal aside from the fact that it was an accident. Not even the type of accident that it was.
I clicked off the site and opened another tab to look for complete interviews.
Not one full-length interview.
Only clips, under a minute long, all from events, award ceremonies, or fundraisers. He never sat in front of the camera for long. Never told his full story. Always gave short statements about hope and resilience.
I opened another tab. Search: Douglas Black, Bronx, New York
A couple of news articles appeared; the first was a missing-persons article about Douglas Black, who was reported missing after his car was found in an embankment.
I clicked the second link.
The article read:
Douglas Black has been identified as the John Doe in the hospital after being critically injured in a collision involving three vehicles…
So, it was a car accident? I felt like I had uncovered the mystery as I continued to read before exiting and going to the next article.
I rubbed my temples.
“He gave eight figures,” I mumbled to myself. “You’re tired, that’s all, Remy. Tired, overthinking, and full of Zo. That’s it, that’s all.”
I pushed the feeling that I had to the back of my mind.
Now that I had read everything there was to know about Mr. Black, I felt horrible.
The Mafia had really done a number on me; it taught me to think that everything was suspicious, even when it wasn’t.
I exited the browser and decided to do some real work.
I’m sure there was something around the office that my assistant could use a hand with.
Before I could get up, there was a firm knock on my door.
I jumped, then chuckled at my damn paranoia.
My husband walked in looking fine as hell.
“What’s up, baby?” He asked as he walked in, with a smile on his face.
He had left early this morning, and I just threw my cheek for him to kiss when he told me he was about to leave so I hadn’t seen him.
But he was dressed down, so I knew he was on drop duty today.
He had on two Cuban links, a bust-down watch, and his wedding ring.
I could smell the scent of his cologne as soon as he came through the door.
“Why are you walking around looking this good?” I asked him playfully.
“I came to take my wife to brunch. Let’s go to that new spot you wanted to try.” He said as he leaned over the desk and kissed me briefly.
I didn’t exchange words with him; I just slipped my heels back on and walked around the desk to go have brunch with my man.
“I’m about to step out. If you need me before I make it back, call me.” I said to my assistant on our way to the door.
We walked to the curb for the awaiting vehicle, and I slid into the back seat of it. I threw my legs across him and rubbed the nape of his neck as the driver pulled away from the curb.
With my legs over him, I reached out and straightened his chain, letting my fingertips graze the top of his chest.
“You dressed too fine for brunch,” I teased.
The look he gave me was instant heat. He leaned in and brushed against my lips. “Rem, stop playing with me, I’m trying to take you to brunch, don’t fuck around and be brunch.” He warned with his eyebrows raised.
I chuckled and decided to be on my best behavior. I actually wanted to make it to this new café, and if I kept at the rate that we were going, those plans would be on the back burner.
“I’ll behave,” I said as I continued to rub his neck. He brought my foot up to his mouth and kissed it. Right at the spot where his name was tattooed.
“You look pretty as fuck, Rem. I forgot to say that earlier when I walked into your office, Ma.” He said, his eyes doing a quick scan of my attire again.
“Thank you, baby.” My heart fluttered. Zo tells me I’m pretty sixty times a day. And it does something to me each time. No matter how long we’ve been together, he never fails to make me feel like we’re still in the dating phase.
The driver pulled up to the curb outside the café, a clean, modern spot with big windows, greenery everywhere, and people lined up for tables. Zo slid out first and held his hand out for me. As soon as I placed my palm in his, he pulled me up and tucked me right under his side.
Inside, the hostess nearly tripped over her words when she saw him. “H-hello, welcome in. Do you have a reservation?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, hand still on my waist. “Under Richardson.”
Her eyes darted between us, then she hurried off to grab menus. Zo’s thumb was rubbing slow circles into my hip, his chain catching the light, his cologne everywhere around me. I would let it slide for now; it wasn’t every day she saw a man this fine. I laughed aloud at the thought.
She led us to a corner booth. I slid in first with my back toward the door. I knew that he would sit on the opposite side because he never sat with his back to the door.
“Nah, come round here. You're not sitting over there,” he said low.
I shook my head and moved next to him, his arm coming around the back of the booth as soon as I settled. He kissed the side of my temple and then reached for the menu.
“What you want?” he asked.
“Something I can feel later.”
His eyes cut to me, just for a second, and I realized too late what that sounded like. His hand slid down from the back of the booth to the small of my back.
“I can give you something you can feel and something you can remember,” he offered, voice like velvet.
I nudged him with my shoulder and laughed. “The food, Zo. Nasty.”
“Aight,” he said, clearly not convinced.
A server came over with water and handed us menus. Zo didn’t even look up at her; he was too busy watching me look at mine. His knee pressed against my thigh under the table, warm and steady.
“What can I get you started with?” She asked.
“For me, I’ll have the Yuzu Ricotta Pancakes, with citrus syrup,” I said as I closed the menu and handed it to her.
“And for you?” She gave her attention to Zo.
“Steak and eggs, Preciate it.” He said as he handed her the menu.
“Thank you,” I said before she walked off.
We ate and talked low. We discussed the kids, upcoming events we had to attend, and the Rich Ball.
Mid-meal, Zo’s knee pressed into mine under the table. Then his hand slid over, resting on my thigh again. I didn’t think anything of it. That was always his way of keeping me close.
I kept eating until I felt his thumb stroke the inside of my thigh slowly and deliberately.
I stilled.
He didn’t look at me. He just kept eating his steak.
“I thought we were behaving,” I whispered.
“I am,” he shrugged, still not looking. “You the one tensing up like I did something.”
I set my fork down, heartbeat climbing. “You know what you’re doing.”
His lips pulled into the faintest smirk. “Brunch is almost over anyway.”
His hand slid up my leg and underneath my dress. I tried to keep my composure as he invaded my panties and found my center. His finger flicked my clit as I let out a low moan and bit my lip. I choked back the noise that was about to escape me.
“Eat your food, Rem,” He teased, knowing I could barely focus after his hand sped up.
“Baby,” I panted as I threw my knee over his, giving him all the access that he desired.
His fingers slid inside me as I subtly grinded my hips against them. I rocked back and forth until I was cumming all over his hand. I gripped his wrist in an effort to hold in the moan as I came down from a release.
He smiled at me and brought his fingers to his mouth and savored my taste from them. Then he kissed me, nastily. Right there at the table.
Winded, I looked down at my half-eaten food. “I’m ready to go home. I need a shower and a nap while the kids are at school.” I decided the office wouldn’t see me until tomorrow.
“Come on, Ma,” he said before calling over the hostess to ask for the bill.
She came back with the bill and a cheesecake. Then sat them both in front of him.
“I ain’t order this,” he said as he reached into his pocket and peeled off money to be able to pay her.
“I know, I just thought you would like it, handsome.” She said with a smile.
Handsome had my head spinning. And the dessert for him?
Not me? Not us? I’m not an insecure woman at all.
Most waitresses normally go out of their way to talk to me, so they make it clear they’re not being flirty.
But her? Sis was bold, and I wasn’t letting that one slide.
“He doesn’t eat anything he didn’t ask for. And don’t ever call my husband handsome.” I snapped.
Zo didn’t even stop me; he just gave me a quick peck on the lips and turned back to her and handed her the money and the bill.
“Watch your mouth. Preciate you.” He said cold and final as she turned and walked off quickly with the money and the bill.
“Did you give that bitch a tip?” I asked.
He chuckled and pulled me from the seat. “Remy Richardson, let’s go home, baby. We've got four hours until the kids make it home.” He said as he grabbed my hand and we left the booth, leaving her little gift on the table.
“And I love cheesecake.” I fussed, causing him to laugh and shake his head.
We got back into the truck's backseat and started the drive to our estate.
My work cell vibrated from an unknown number.
“I look forward to working with you.”
I locked the screen and put it back in my bag. The number wasn’t stored, but I felt like I had a pretty good idea who had sent the message. I couldn’t dwell on it; I had just had an amazing morning with my husband. Now we were heading home to have an even better afternoon.