Never Keeping Secrets (14 page)

“I see big things in store for you, Monica,” Usain added.

“I hear that,” she said with a smile as they all touched glasses lightly.

She sipped the champagne and nodded in approval. “Okay, this is good,” she said, her voice echoing inside the flute.

“Only the best,” Usain said.

Monica shifted her eyes to him over the rim of her glass and was surprised to find his eyes already resting on her intently. She shifted them to Kelson and his eyes rested on her as well. Kelson she expected, but Usain? She took another deep sip and shifted her eyes back just in time to see the pale redhead give Usain a hard stare.

Monica focused on reviewing her leather-bound menu because sitting at a table with two fine men who were both giving off that “Damn, you fine” vibe could definitely go to a girl's head.

“I
think it's time we tell Corey about us.”

Keesha lifted her head from Shawn's sweaty chest and looked at him like he had completely lost his entire mind and a part of someone else's. “And why would I do that?” she asked, sitting up and reaching for her pack of cigarettes.

“I love you and I'm tired of sharing your pussy,” Shawn said, reaching over to stroke one of her exposed nipples.

This motherfucker
.

Keesha climbed from the bed naked and moved across the guest bedroom away from him. “Listen, Shawn, I care about you too—”

“Care about me?” he balked, sitting up in bed.

“But I love Corey and you know you don't want to hurt him,” she said.

He flung back the covers and hopped to his feet, his now-limp dick flailing like a broken arm. “So I ain't nothing to you but a fuck?” he asked.

Yes, motherfucker
.

“No,” she lied. “But I'm not ready to give up on Corey and I thought when you first started coming at me like that, I made it clear that regardless of what went on with the pussy that my heart belonged to him. Right?”

“Shit changed for me, Keesha,” Shawn said, bending over to look through the tangled bedcovers for his boxers.

She fought the urge to take her foot and press it right in the crack of his dark ass. “Listen, let me think about some things. You caught me off guard, you know. I didn't know you felt that way,” she said, releasing a thick stream of smoke.

Shawn jerked on his boxers before he looked down at her with his hurt feelings written all over his face.

Keesha stood before him and wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to burn him. She kissed both sides of his mouth. “Just give me a little time, okay?” she asked him, her voice soft.

Shawn nodded and captured her lips for a kiss as he hugged her back. “I better head out of here before Corey gets home,” he said, moving from her to finish getting dressed.

She left the guest bedroom and walked across to their master bedroom to retrieve her kimono-style housecoat. She glanced at the bed she shared every night with Corey. There were many things she was dead wrong for but she refused to sex his cousin in his bed. There was a line even she wouldn't cross.

By the time she made it back across the hall, Shawn was dressed and pulling on his Jordans. She rushed to replace the covers on the bed and then opened the two windows wide to let the room air out. She made sure there was nothing incriminating left in the room and then politely led him out.

The day was over, Kimani was with Keesha's little sister and the rest of her father's family. Corey was at work. She and Shawn had enjoyed a day of floating around playing house.

“Call me, Keesha,” Shawn said, digging his fingers into her ass as she opened the door.

“Oh . . . ooh . . . oh . . . okay.”

Keesha and Shawn both jumped back at the sight of her neighbor Jeremiah standing on the porch holding a box and looking directly at Shawn's hand on Keesha's ass.

Shawn jerked it away. “So yeah, uhm, thanks cuz,” he said, before he squeezed past Jeremiah's tall frame and jogged down the stairs to his Impala parked in the drive behind Keesha's Benz.

Jeremiah turned to watch Shawn back down the drive and then zoom up the quiet street. “Keesha, I don't mean to get in your business—”

“Good idea,” she told him.

“But you know this is the makings of a
First 48
episode or some shit,” he said.

Keesha leaned against the door and looked up at him. “It's not what you think,” she said weakly.

Jeremiah opened his mouth and then closed it. “Just be careful.”

“What's in the box?” she asked.

“I wanted to see if you could sign these books for Marcus's bookclub meeting this weekend,” Jeremiah said. “He wants to surprise everyone.”

“Just leave them and I'll walk over and let you know when they're ready,” she said, pointing to a spot by the door.

Keesha wanted to shower before Corey got home.

Jeremiah set the box where she told him. “You know I'm headed out to work and I'll probably stay over Marcus's house tonight. So I'll walk over tomorrow some time. No rush,” he said.

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” Keesha stepped forward, pushing the door closed with her.

She shook her head as she jogged back up the stairs. If that had been her dope-sniffing—or even weed-smoking—days, she would've burst out laughing at the whole scene.

Keesha paused at the door to her office as she waited to hear the message being left on her answering machine.

“Hi, Keesha. This is Madge. Give me a call as soon as you can. I have news on the proposal you sent Bianca on the third book and—”

She flew into the room and snatched up the cordless phone. “Hello Madge,” she said, forcing herself to breathe normally as she folded her figure into the chair behind her desk. “What's the good news?”

“Well, it's not exactly good . . .”

Damn.
Keesha squeezed her eyelids with the tips of her fingers. She really needed that next big advance and soon.

“They want you to work on this proposal. They are not happy with it as is.”

Keesha remained quiet.

“Are you still there?” her agent asked.

“Yes I'm here.”

“So I'm going to e-mail you the things she pointed out about the storyline,” Madge said. “And I'm going to be honest with you, Keesha, you really need to hit it out of the park with this. The numbers for the second book nowhere near match the first one.”

“Are they going to drop me?” she asked, clearing her throat after her words came out in a squeak.

“No, they just want the tightest story possible,” Madge said. “Let me send the e-mail, you take a look at it, mull it over for a couple of days and then let's talk.”

“Okay. All right. Thanks, Madge.”

Keesha dropped the phone back on its base as she turned on her computer. She was anxious to see the notes on her proposal. As she pulled up her e-mail account, she hit play on the machine to play the rest of the messages—mainly because she wanted the indicator light to stop blinking.

“I have two hundred new e-mails. Shit,” she swore. It had been several months or more since she even checked her e-mail, Facebook, or Twitter accounts. She usually got Internet happy in the weeks leading up to a new book release and for about a month after.

The e-mail from Madge had not arrived yet.

“Fuck your important matter, Frank,” she muttered, her eyes scanning the e-mails. The majority were from readers of her books.

“The hell is this shit?” Keesha asked, her eyes squinting as she took in a series of e-mails from someone named YOUR DIRTY SECRETS with the subject line: “Is this spam?”

She waved her hand dismissively at the e-mail and picked up the phone to dial her doctor's office. She had to take a physical last week for her and Corey's insurance policy.

“Vogle Medical Center.”

“Hi this is Keesha Lands. Someone left a message for me to call.”

“Hold please.”

She refreshed her e-mail's inbox as she waited. The e-mail from her agent had finally arrived and she opened it.

“Ms. Lands, Dr. Vogle would like for you to come back in for additional tests. Can you make a four o'clock appointment today?”

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“He's not in the office at the moment, he just noted your chart.”

“Uhm . . . I'm on my way,” she said, standing up to make her way across the hall to their bedroom.

“See you at four.”

Keesha dropped the phone on the bed and turned to look in the mirror over the dresser.
What's wrong with me?

When Keesha walked back through the door of their townhouse, Corey was home and the smell of food was thick in the air. She closed her eyes and released a heavy breath before she made her way into the kitchen.

He looked over his shoulder from a pot he was stirring in. “Hey. Where you been? I called your phone.”

“I had to mail some stuff off at the post office,” she lied, sitting her tote bag on the counter along with her keys.

“I made spaghetti,” he said.

Keesha nodded, hating that her actions would lead to him being hurt. She turned from him when tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them back rapidly.

Corey was a good man. He paid his fair share of the bills. Helped her raise her daughter. Had patience about her crazy mother. Cooked meals. Supported her. Supported them.

“Did you hear about the new book yet?”

Keesha turned back to him. “They didn't like it. I have to work on it and turn it in again,” she said.

“You'll work it out,” he said, coming over to rub her lower back.

“I don't have no choice with all these bills,” she admitted. “If that new deal doesn't come through . . .”

Corey stiffened. “Look I don't want to argue about money. I just wanna eat dinner. Chill. Watch a movie. Just not tonight, Keesha,” he said, moving back to the stove to turn off the pot of pasta.

“That's not how I meant it, Corey.”

He glanced over at her as he dumped the pasta and the water through a drainer sitting in the sink. “What's wrong?” he asked.

He wiped his hands with a dish towel and came back over to her. “Look if you worried about money if—and that's if—the book deal doesn't come through we'll make it. If I have to get a second job we'll be straight.”

Guilt damn near swallowed her as she stepped forward and rested her head on his chest. “You mean that too, don't you, Corey?”

“Have I ever let you down?”

She shook her head. No he hadn't. Ever
. I'm the one that ain't shit.

“You hungry?” he asked, moving back to the stove. “ 'Cause I'm starving.”

“I'm pregnant,” she said, her eyes locked on his strong back.

“I had a crazy day at work, baby,” he said.

“I'm pregnant,” she repeated, raising her hand to press again her stomach.

Corey turned. “What'd you say?”

She smiled through all of the emotions jumping her like a hood beatdown. “I'm pregnant.”

Corey raced back over to her and dropped down to press his hands to her belly. “A baby. We're gonna have a baby?” he asked.

Keesha stroked the back of his head and nodded. In what should have been the happiest moment of the world she felt karma bite her in the ass like a rabid dog. The sins of the mother do often visit the child and here she was, a victim of her mother picking the wrong man of two to be her father. And now Keesha didn't know if she had done the same.

Shawn or Corey could be the father and Keesha had absolutely no idea which one would hear “You are the father” on a
Maury Povich
episode. But the better man was Corey. She wanted Corey. She loved Corey.

Smiling through her tears and swallowing a lump of guilt and her own hypocrisy, she said, “Yes, we're having a baby.”