Close Quarters: A Novel (Zane Presents) (19 page)

At noon, I grabbed my briefcase to head out to a meeting. The Sphere account had been taking up a significant amount of my time. While preparing for the final presentation, I had rescheduled a few client appointments and planned to spend the rest of the week off-site.

I was pitching new concepts this week. I was energized. This was all practice for when I opened my own agency. I had enough of a reputation in the industry that I was optimistic I’d be able to secure clients within the first few months, but I wanted the large accounts. That would take a hell of a lot of work and I was ready to
roll up my sleeves to make it happen. I hailed a cab and jetted off for my string of afternoon meetings.

• • •

I dragged myself through the door at close to ten that night. I ended up having drinks with one of my clients and apparently he didn’t want to go home to his waiting family. After three hours of listening to him complain about his kids’ tuition and wife’s spending habits I told him I had an early meeting in the morning and needed to do some final preparations. I left him sitting at the bar, ordering another drink.

Melina was in the bathroom belting out an Esperanza Spalding tune. Her voice was sultry and filled with passion. I lurked outside the door, listening to her sing about falling in love. She sounded like a woman in love. The stuffed-shirt obviously made her happy. I didn’t know why I was so hard on her about her relationship with Ellis. The brother, if I could even call him that, irked me. He wore his wealth like a badge of honor and his attitude stunk. I didn’t accept being treated like I was less than anyone, especially not by another brother. I contradicted everything he said just to prove that others have thoughts and opinions and his word was not the gospel. I wondered about Melina’s motives for being with a man like Ellis. Was it the money that made her want to be with him? He was all business, no amusement, at least from what I could see. She had basically admitted that the brother was whack in the sack. Other than the money, what did he have going for him?

The door to the bathroom opened. I hadn’t noticed that Melina had turned off the shower. She jumped and abruptly stopped singing when she saw me standing outside the bathroom. Her towel slipped, exposing one of her breasts. Her skin glistened. I didn’t move. I was a spectator while she clumsily clutched the
dangling end of her towel. I absentmindedly reached to help her. She turned away, causing my hand to brush against the side of her barely covered breast.

Her eyes widened. “Malik, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, Mel. I was just . . .I was trying to help,” I stammered.

She tucked her towel and shook her head. “I didn’t even know you were here. What were you doing?”

“I just got home; I wasn’t doing anything. I was heading to my room. Sorry, again.”

I left her standing in the hallway and went into my room, closing the door behind me. I loosened my tie and sat on the edge of my bed. I replayed what had just happened. I reclined back on the bed. Melina was beautiful. Her golden skin was smooth to the touch. Her breasts so full and soft. I imagined what the rest of her body looked like underneath that towel and began to stiffen. I shook my head and sat up. I shouldn’t have been thinking about Melina that way. She must have thought I was crazy, standing in the hallway like some sort of stalker. I coaxed my hardhead down and then continued to undress.

I was about to step out of my boxers when I heard a light tap on the door. “It’s open.”

Melina slowly opened the door and stepped into my room. She had on a long tee that came to her knees, fuzzy slippers and a ponytail perched on the top of her head. I was standing next to my bed, bare-chested. She gave me a once-over and it looked like her face got a little red.

“What’s up?” I asked, breaking the silence.

She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be at Ellis’s for the rest of the week. I’ll be back on Sunday.”

“Thanks for telling me.” I waited, puzzled. “Is that it?”

She looked me up and down again. “Oh, no, also the repairman
is coming to fix the dishwasher tomorrow evening around seven. Do you think you can meet him or should I reschedule?”

I rubbed my hand across my chest while I thought about it. Melina’s eyes followed my hand. I smiled. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then shook her head. She went to the door and spoke over her shoulder. “Good night, Malik.”

She shut the door before I could respond, but I was sure I caught a glimpse of a smile on her face as it closed.

W
hen I entered the dining room, Ellis was already at the table, reading the paper. His eggs and bacon were half-eaten, the plate pushed aside. I kissed his forehead and then took a seat next to him, where my slice of toast and glass of grapefruit juice sat waiting for me. Sunlight streamed into the room, little rainbows glittered across the table from the chandelier.

He folded his paper and rested it beside his neglected breakfast. “So what time do you expect to be finished with your shopping today?”

I was meeting Charlee and Giselle at a wedding boutique in Manhasset to begin the search for my dress.

I took a bite of my toast. “I expect we’ll be out most of the afternoon. Maybe we’ll grab a little lunch or go get massages. We should be back no later than four or so.”

“That’s perfect. Mother is planning to come by, so I figured she could meet your bridesmaids and maybe join us for dinner.”

I almost choked on my juice. “I didn’t realize that Bebe was coming today.”

“She called this morning. When I mentioned that you and the girls were going dress shopping, she thought it would be a great opportunity to do a little wedding planning and to meet your bridal party.”

He just didn’t get it. I certainly didn’t want his mother involved
in the planning and if I wanted her to meet my bridal party, then I would have arranged it. I wasn’t aiming for a fight, but Ellis needed to get a clue.

“Sweetheart, I planned this day to spend a bit of quality time with my friends and to find the perfect dress. And after our day of shopping, I thought it would be nice if you and I had them over for an intimate dinner.” I realized I sounded patronizing, but I couldn’t help it. “I wasn’t planning on introducing my friends to your mother today.”

“You know you like to procrastinate, Lina. Mother wants to know who will be participating in the wedding so that she can plan accordingly.”

I firmly set my glass down, causing a bit of juice to splash onto the table. “Plan what, Ellis? What does your mother need to plan that makes meeting my friends a necessity?”

“Maybe a better question is what have
you
planned? Our wedding is taking place in less than six months. What have you done so far?”

“Are you serious? This is
our
wedding. Yours and mine. Not Bebe’s, not anyone else’s. Do you understand that?”

“My mother is only trying to ensure that we’ll have a Harlow wedding in April.”

I shook my head. “Oh, I see. The Harlows don’t trust that I can plan a wedding suitable to the Harlow standards. Is that it, Ellison? You and your mother think I can’t plan my own wedding?”

“Now you’re being ridiculous, Lina.”

Typical Ellis. He discounts my feelings and then tries to convince me that I’m misreading a situation. “I’m being ridiculous? Anytime I bring up your mother, then I’m ridiculous.”

“Yes, you are. My mother has nothing but time on her hands. So what she wants to help you with the wedding? You should be grateful. Do you know how many women wish they had someone to do what my mother is offering to do for you?”

“You mean for
us
, don’t you?”

“Don’t play semantics with me, Melina. Mother has been nothing but helpful to
both
of us. She knows how busy we are with work and has made our wedding her top priority. She’s booked the church, arranged for the same minister that christened me to perform our nuptials, and I know she wanted to tell you herself, but I think she may have found the perfect location for our reception.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you hear yourself? What makes you think I wanted your mother to do
any
of that? Did it ever cross your mind that I wanted to pick my own wedding date and find the perfect church and location for the reception? Did it?”

Ellis leaned forward and pointed at me. “Fine, Melina. You can tell Mother this evening about
all
the arrangements you’ve made thus far and that she can cancel what she’s done.” He sat back and tapped his temple as if just remembering something. “Oh yeah, you don’t have any arrangements to share because you haven’t done anything.” He leaned forward again, elbows on the table, fingers laced. “My suggestion to you is that you graciously accept the help that Mother is offering and get involved before there’s nothing left to plan.”

Ellis stood, appraising me for a moment before kissing my forehead. I opened my mouth to respond and he shook his head. “I’ll see you and the girls at four. Have fun shopping.”

I watched him leave the room, wondering whether I could stand being married to a man and his mother.

• • •

Charlee sipped on champagne in the main salon while I changed into the next dress. Giselle was inside the fitting room with me, buttoning the row of buttons on the back of the dress.

No sooner than I stepped out of my fitting room did Charlee comment, “Too traditional. I don’t like it.”

“I like it,” Giselle chirped.

“You like all of that poof and flounce? Turn around, Melina.”

I did a slow spin, so she could see the entire dress.

Giselle straightened out the train. “The detail is exquisite. Do you see the beadwork?”

“Do you see how the back makes it look like she has a beach ball for an ass? I don’t like it. My girl is too fly for this outdated frock.”

I laughed. “All right, calm down. I still have plenty more to try on and I won’t be picking anything until my mother gets here in a couple of weeks to give her input.”

I slipped back into the fitting room with Giselle in tow.

Charlee called out, “I think you need something sexier. Form-fitting. Low-cut. Sexy.”

“Of course, you do,” I said, stepping into the next dress. “I think I may want the flounce that you’re not so fond of. I happen to like it.”

I always imagined that I would look like a fairy-tale princess on my wedding day, wearing a beautiful gown with a fitted-bodice and a full, flowing skirt. My hair would be done in a glorious up-do with curling tendrils to frame my face. No veil but an ornate headpiece reminiscent of a lavish, diamond-filled tiara. So far, we hadn’t come across that perfect dress yet. Although this was only the first dress shop and my first day searching, I hoped I’d be lucky and find a dress quickly. I should have known I’d have no such luck.

I modeled the next dress. It was a classic A-line dress, no beading, very simple. Definitely didn’t fit what I had in mind. Surprisingly, Charlee liked it. Giselle didn’t. About ten dresses later, with no consensus, we decided to wrap up our shopping for the day. I loved the input from my girls, but I looked forward to shopping with Terrence’s fiancée, Dru. We had spoken during
the week and made arrangements to meet next weekend. It would be nice to have the perspective of another future bride. I was certain that my outing with Dru would be more easygoing and involve less debate and conflict.

• • •

Giselle and Charlee followed me in their car to the Deja Spa. After my morning with Ellis, and the impending evening with Bebe, I needed a massage. Giselle opted for a facial and a manicure instead. She said she wasn’t in the mood to have a stranger rubbing on her and her unborn baby. It was obvious her hormones had gotten the best of her because no one loved to be pampered as much as she did.

Soft jazz music played throughout the spa. We were greeted by three smiling technicians, ready to cater to our every whim. Charlee and I were escorted to the changing room to disrobe while Giselle headed off for her manicure.

I stepped inside one of the changing stalls and drew the curtain. Charlee was in the stall next to me, humming along with the song piping through the speakers.

I undressed, wrapped the plush robe around me and exited my stall. I took off my bracelet and slipped it inside my purse, then placed the purse in a locker along with my clothing. I reclined on the overstuffed sofa in the waiting area, flipping through the pages of
Vanity Fair
.

Charlee glided out of the changing room and plopped down on the opposite end of the sofa. “I hope I get a man. I don’t like for women to massage me. I want a strong-fingered cutie to dig in to my limbs.”

I rolled my eyes. “I guess I should let you know that one more person will be joining us at Ellis’s for dinner tonight.”

Charlee’s eyes brightened. “One of Ellis’s fine friends? No, wait. One of his rich colleagues? I won’t be mad if he’s invited one of his filthy-rich buddies.”

“We should be so lucky.”

“Well, who is it, then?” Charlee asked, sitting back.

“Bebe.”

Charlee’s brow wrinkled. “Ellis’s mother?”

“The one and only,” I said with a sigh.

“Wow. Okay. So his mother is coming for dinner. Based on your expression I can see that you’re not happy about this.”

“That’s an understatement. I don’t know if I should subject you guys to her. I was thinking maybe we should reschedule dinner.”

“Oh no you don’t. We planned to have dinner with you and Ellis and that’s what we’re going to do.” Charlee gave me a mischievous smile. “As a matter of fact, I think it’s about time we got to meet Ms. Bebe.”

I knew my friend and I didn’t like the way that sounded. “Why? What are you going to do?”

A petite female masseuse came in to get Charlee. She frowned before saying, “Don’t worry. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

• • •

While the masseuse kneaded my knots, I tried to still my mind. I kept going over and over my conversation with Ellis. No matter how much his mother stepped out of bounds he failed to see any flaw in her behavior. I knew mothers and sons had a special bond, but their relationship was something else altogether. As much as Ellis was his own man, it seemed his mother controlled invisible puppet strings to make him do and say as she pleased. Not that I wanted to control Ellis, but if anybody was going to pull his strings it should’ve been me. Bebe needed to step aside. She needed to
acknowledge that her son was about to be married and would have a wife—a partner—and that maybe she didn’t need to be so intrusive. I knew what I had to do. After dinner, I’d sit Ellis and his mother down, together, and let them know from that point on, things would change. I would not succumb to Bebe’s tactics and refused to tolerate Ellis’s insensitivity. I needed Ellis to have my back. I needed to feel that he’d give me the same type of support that he gave his mother. I needed my husband to be
my
husband.