Authors: Violet Williams
"Everything okay?" Maria asked.
"Jake's dad is on TV." It really was something how much the two of them favored. Same pensive, attractive features, big blue eyes, pert nose, patrician cheekbones, even down to the hair, though Conrad wore his shorter than Jake and had a healthy helping of gray.
She walked to the weathered coffee table and picked up the remote, upping the volume. As soon as she got the gist of the conversation, she knew she was gonna regret catching the newscast out the corner of her eye.
"Thank you again for taking some time out to talk with us.” The newscaster turned to the camera. “We have Conrad Cunningham, owner of Cunningham Investments and father of Senator Jake Cunningham, the junior senator from North Carolina, on the program tonight.” The screen split, with one side dedicated to the newscaster, and another for Conrad. “As I understand, you’re here with us to talk about the controversy surrounding your son's bid for re-election and his colorful personal life."
"Thank you for having me, Cindy," Conrad replied smoothly. "I want to put a lot of the rumors to rest and return the conversation to where it belongs-the good work my son has done to help everyday North Carolinians during this hard time in our nation's economy and his future goals when-"
"If," the newscaster cut in with a grin.
"When," Conrad repeated, his eyes flashing but his smile never leaving his lips. "He wins the election."
"So Mr. Cunningham, you said that you wanted to put the rumors to rest regarding Senator Cunningham's romantic relationship with a local woman, a maid named Keisha Wallace who was employed at Winterhorn Inn and Suites."
Keisha gasped when her picture flashed across the screen. It was a blown up shot from a company newsletter.
“Jesus Christ,” she whispered.
"Yes." Conrad didn't miss a beat. "I can put any worries that voters may have about my son's past indiscretions to rest. There simply is no relationship with any maid. My son was just simply helping an impoverished woman and a few pictures were taken out of context.
Maria walked over, plopping on the couch. "Did he just-" She leaned over and clutched Keisha’s hand. “Oh my god.”
Keisha didn't know what to say. Her heart was caught in her throat, making it difficult to breathe, to think, to do anything except listen to the father of the man she loved drag her through the dirt.
Anyone else may have crumbled, but Conrad just gave her a chiding chuckle. "Let's not be silly here. Her occupation has nothing to do with it. She could be the secretary of state or a ditch digger, and it wouldn't matter. My son is not seeing her. He has more pressing issues on his plate, like the ten percent unemployment rate in North Carolina." He cleared his throat. "My son's opponents have created this whole fiasco to distract from cold, hard truth. My son isn't part of the establishment. He comes from working class roots and is looking out for working class interests and not those of lobbyists and special interest groups." He sat tall in his seat. "And that's all I have to say on the subject."
Keisha turned to the right and saw Maria's mouth moving, her dark eyes concerned. The steady beat of Caleb stomping around in his playpen rung in her ears. She even looked down and saw her cell on the coffee table was lighting up. It was Jake.
But she didn't move. Not an inch. The world thought they were a lie. That she was some impoverished woman probably trying to milk the limelight. The future, the one so close she could brush it with her fingertips, suddenly seemed out of reach.
She closed her eyes, but they snapped open as Maria took her by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake. She had Keisha's cell cradled between her ear and the crook of her neck.
"Yes," Maria said into the receiver, finally releasing Keisha. "She's right here." She held out the phone. "It's Jake."
The two of them? According to Conrad, there was no two of them. He’d just gone on national TV and said they were a lie. That they weren’t real. That everything she’d experienced for the past few months was just some figment of her imagination.
“Keisha!” Maria said firmly. “Talk to him!”
Keisha let out a sigh as she accepted the phone and brought it to her ear. "What?"
"Babe! Jesus Christ, I just heard. I'm so sorry." His deep voice wavered. She knew him well enough to know that he was furious. "I had no idea, I swear to you."
"It's no biggie," Keisha said stonily. "I'm just an impoverished welfare mother that you took pity on."
"You know that's not true," he insisted. "You're so much more to me than that. You, Caleb--you're everything to me."
Keisha swiped a tear that spilled down her cheek, trying to hold on to his voice. Trying to hold on to the love. She wanted to use it to cut through the hatred laced in his father's words, but she was tired. So exhausted. "When are you coming home?"
"No," Keisha snapped. She looked at her friend and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Let's just finish this." She cast a look around the economy apartment. "I just want to get out of here."
Chapter Eight
Jake
Jake zipped up his suitcase and tossed it onto the trolley, hoping the snap of noise would provide some relief from the scream-a-thon between he and Keisha.
No such luck.
"I mean, the fight, the arrest, and now your dad calling us nothing but a fraud--you have no idea what it was like to walk through that lobby. To have everyone looking at me for all the wrong reasons," Keisha railed on.
"Babe," Jake took a breath. It was their last day in Winterhorn and they'd spent the morning yelling at each other. Besides being counterproductive, considering he'd been packing the same box for an hour, he hated being at odds with her.
He tried to not take her icy words personally, trying to remember her quarrel was with his father but he was as close as she'd get. Conrad had wisely been unavailable for the past few days, probably aware of the shit storm that he'd caused and the ensuing fallout. Not that he cared. His father wanted them to end things and figured if he went on TV and said things were over, it would be just the wakeup call Jake needed.
But even though they were arguing, taking their frustrations out on one another, looking at his beautiful woman, anger making her dark eyes smolder and her brown cheeks flush, he loved her, wanted her more than ever.
"Are you even listening to me?" she said shrilly, putting a hand on her hip. "Are you even taking this seriously?"
“Of course I am, baby,” he said softly. “I just think we need to take a big breath and relax. Yelling isn’t going to change anything.”
Her nostrils flared. "Do you even get the gravity of what he's done?"
"Keisha-"
"I mean he's trying to make damn sure we're not together!" She made gestures, trying to explain it to him. Her thin arms waved back and forth effusively as she blasted on. "Everything is ruined! How can we be together now without contradicting his statement? Without looking like your campaign has gone awry?"
"Keisha-"
"I mean what are we gonna do?" Her dark eyes filled with tears. "What the hell are we gonna do?!"
He held her shoulders, trying to ground her. Her concerns were his. After he’d come down from his own personal fury, he'd talked with Raven and she'd sadly wondered if a little time off between them was for the best so they could regroup. For a blink of an eye, he'd wondered the same, but the thought of being without Keisha was so crippling, so unfathomable.
He caressed her cheek as he stared at her. Not having the weekends to look forward to, not waking up beside her--it wasn't an option.
He kept his voice neutral, trying to not minimize her hurt, but at the same time, keep it in perspective. "Raven and I decided that for now, I have no comment on my father's statements."
She stuck out her lip. "And when people see me around town, wearing my furs and riding in the Escalade I bought from poaching your campaign?"
Jake gave her a chuckle. "You don't have any furs, and you hate riding in the Escalade."
"And what about the house you bought?"
He felt the sting of her words. He knew that she was a proud woman and worked for everything she got. "I thought we'd agreed on a rent arrangement. Your idea, remember?"
"But I'm just trying to get you to see what it looks like from the outside!" she pressed. "And I want you to know I don't need the chauffeur or the house." She looked down at the print dress she wore, a gift from Jake when he saw her eyeing it on a boutique website.
“I know you love me, Keisha.”
“But do you understand that I don’t need it?” She gripped the material of her dress and with a grunt, pulled it over her head and discarded it. "I don't need the money, the things. I need you."
He didn't say anymore. He'd apologized, he'd racked his mind for a way to express to Keisha that everything was alright. But words failed as he looked at her, standing in her blood red bra and panties, her dark skin shimmering. He couldn't stop his father from over reaching, like he always did. But he could control this. He could make love to his woman.
His hands wrapped around her as he drew her in, her scent, her lips enveloping him as he kissed her. Every motion sent new sensations coursing through him. Every soft probe of his tongue, skirting into her mouth, dancing against hers made him burn for this moment. He burned for the bliss in their carnal embrace. He burned for Keisha.
He pulled away only for a moment, needing her to answer a question. Needing her to give her release. Give her body. Give her all. "Can I make love to you?"
She gave him the smirk that slayed him every time. "You don't even have to ask."
Making it to the bed after that statement wasn't even an option. Buttons flew from his overpriced shirt and he damn near ripped his pants in half. Once there were no barriers between them, Keisha turned to the suite, to the privacy of the bedroom, put he pulled her back in, his hands shooting downward 'til he cupped her ass. She let out a gasp of surprise as he lifted her. The surprise gave way to a moan as she got his drift as he held her in the air and her legs wrapped around his hips.
He shuttled them to a wall and he took care to push her back soft enough to not give her undue pain, but with enough force so she knew there'd be no wining and dining. He was gonna claim her with his cock. Plunge inside her until the rest of the world faded away.
He gave her a devilish grin. "I want you right now--and I don't care if the whole world sees."
She locked her arms around his neck and his eyes trailed down her smooth abdomen, zeroing in on her core, desire glittering. The lips of her were spread and ready for him. He steered his cock inside her, relishing the thirsty smack she made as he pushed into the gates. Her muscles squeezed him and when he took his gaze to her face, he saw that she needed this as badly as he did.
"Fuck me," she whispered, her face scrunched with ecstasy.
She didn't have to tell him twice.
He moved in and out of her, building up a rhythm that drowned out everything but the two of them. He just moved his hips, burrowing into her, each thrust taking him closer to the nirvana that no one could take away from them. He felt the pleasure radiating through him, pulsing with the steady coos she made as he dove in and out of her. His woman. His forever.
The pressure before the climax built. He told her and used a hand to reach between them. He found her clit and rubbed it. He wanted to feel her come on his cock before he lost it.
She threw her head back onto the wall, tossing it back and forth and he let out a roar of passion as he felt her core tighten around his cock, spasming as she climaxed.
Keisha lifted her head and took a hand and brought him down ‘til they touched, forehead to forehead. She took a deep breath then exhaled. "We're gonna be okay."
Chapter Nine
Keisha
Keisha stepped inside of Leroy's Grocery, pushing Caleb in his stroller. He was chatting away, completely content to baby babble about the world's ills. Keisha pressed silence on her cell for the third time since she'd left her mother's apartment.
She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. So hopeful. Her mother had whined about everything that concerned Caleb, trailing all the way back to when he was in utero. How it was a mistake to even have him. How her house wasn't big enough for a baby. How a crying baby wasn't good for her blood pressure. How just because she was babysitting didn't mean she'd miss her stories.
But she'd called up Keisha, telling her that she had empty nest syndrome since they were finally moved out and spent their first night in the new house.
The house was a dream with its sparkling white walls that she couldn't wait to paint their story on. Vaulted ceiling, a fireplace, marble countertops, wide open space. It was the kind of place that she always dreamed about as she scrubbed toilets and cleaned up behind people. The kind of place that she wanted to raise her son in, grow old in. And when she'd talked to her mother the night before, she'd put her guard down. Carla had surprised her, apologizing for the distance between them for the past few years. She'd believed her when she said she wanted a new start.