“Yeah. I will.” I tucked a chunk of curls behind her ear then squeezed her waist. Flames glued us together. I knew she felt it too because I saw the heat tinting the apples of her cheeks red.
Ding dong!
The doorbell evaporated the charged moment and I couldn’t have been happier. I dropped my hands from Xari’s waist and opened the front door. Two tall young men stood on the porch in gray overalls and clipboards. The dark-skinned guy eyed Xari from her wild curls to her pedicured toes. I knew that look because I looked at her like that too.
He wanted to fuck her.
“Is the big fragile box okay?” She asked immediately.
“It’s fine.” The guy with the deep brown skin said. “Remember me, Xari?” He flashed her a smile but she remained blank-faced.
“I’m sorry, no. Can you guys bring the big box in first? I requested for it to be loaded last.”
“You seriously don’t remember me? I moved your stuff from your apartment like twenty minutes from here last week.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah. Nice to see you again.” I could tell by the cadence of her voice that she still had no idea who the guy was. He knew too. His smile fell apart and his eyes narrowed.
“We’ll get the big box,” he snapped, turning away from the porch.
“You have no idea who he is, do you?” I asked, cracking a smile.
“Not a clue. I mean…I know there were movers last week and…oh.”
“And oh?”
“Yeah. I remember him now. Shit.”
I got sucked into the story and I needed to know how she knew the guy if he only moved her things last week. So I waited for an answer while they unloaded the moving truck. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” She laughed a little and smoothed her red dress. It was perfect like all her clothes. Not one wrinkle, stain, or thread out of place.
“Oh, I do want to know. You can tell me later tonight when you’re dressed down.”
“Oh my god. I never agreed to that!” She squeaked.
I laughed, shaking my head as I turned away from her and headed back to the den to continue writing. I needed something to take my mind off how soft Xari’s skin was and how badly I wanted to taste those red velvet lips.
I refused to get sucked into her gorgeous face and perfect body. That part was easy to resist even though it presented its obstacles. The hard part was not falling prey to her sarcasm, her jokes, or her bubbly personality.
I couldn’t get sucked into her. She was my employee. I hired her for Frankie. Not so I could fuck her. Shit, then I wouldn’t be any better than the man Alexis thought I was.
It was clear I needed to take a step back from Xari Lucas.
I poured another glass of Jameson then went to work on my novel. My fingers passed over the keys faster than my eyes could read what I wrote. I’d stop every so often to take a break and read over what I’d written. I needed more by the time I got to the end.
Whenever that happened, a quiet thrill pushed through me. My fingers and mind worked together like lightning and thunder to push out words faster and faster. Every word thumped through my veins like blood.
That’s why writing came to me so effortlessly. It was inside of me. I only needed a blank page and an open vein. Vivid pictures would spill across the screen and characters came to life under my control. They spawned from my brain and lived in readers’ minds.
Well…
That would be true if I ever got the nerve to hit publish. I knew better than to dive too deep into my dreams though. I was groomed for politics and that’s the path I chose. It’s the path that was chosen for me but I respected my father so I decided to fulfill my duty as a Freeman. There were generations of men counting on me to continue the legacy left to us.
It wasn’t easy being a black senator and continuing in the senate four generations deep was monumental. It was unheard of. The name Freeman was like money. There was no way I’d choose myself over the greater good.
My father must have had a sixth sense because he called me right in the middle of me thinking about him. I hit save on my document and took one last swallow of whiskey before answering.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Van, you did hear me when I told you it would be in your best interest to vote in a way that would benefit future Freemans, right?”
“Wow, no hello, how are you?”
“I’m still pissed at you for voting like a pussy on the arts funding bill,” he snapped.
“I voted like someone who cares about kids who don’t have the same opportunity as mine.” I shut the laptop and pushed to my feet. I took long strides to the bar and frowned when I realized the decanter was empty. Dammit.
“You’ll have the chance to fix it, Van.”
“Are you talking about the education funding bill? It’s loaded with breaks for private institutions. If I sign off on it, funding will get taken away from public schools. They’re trying to create an entire pool for private institutions.”
“Let them. Public schools won’t miss a little bit of money. It’s not fair that they get the entire budget. It’s a monopoly. How do you not see that? Goddamn bleeding heart.”
“The kids in public schools are our future.” I hated how cliché it sounded but it was true.
“Yes. Our future maids, cab drivers, and waitresses. Do they need art programs and more money being funneled to them? They can’t
