Was it Good for You Too? (11 page)

Tailan inched across the lobby as waves of nausea overtook her. She struggled just to stay standing. The trip from Indiana to Chicago after the last two stops of the day was the longest that she could remember in a while. And it wasn't the distance that was the issue.

She slipped over to a quiet corner of the lobby of the Marriott Magnificent Mile and leaned against the wall to get her bearings. Tailan took several long breaths and prayed that whatever was going on with her would pass. She couldn't afford to be sick. There was one more day left on the tour. Just one more day.

Tailan slumped against the wall.

Good Lord! What's wrong with me?

Tailan's gaze locked on Pam, who came to a sudden halt several feet away. Pam scanned the area—first left, then right—before hurrying past, wheeling her travel bag across the green marbles tiles. Then she ran toward the front entrance leading toward the taxi stand.

“Pam, where are you going?” Tailan called out.

Startled, Pam's head snapped to the corner wall of the lobby where Tailan was barely holding ground. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She grimaced before changing directions and coming to stand in front of Tailan.

“I'm going home,” she whispered.

Alarmed that something had transpired that had not been brought to her attention, Tailan moved a few inches from the wall. “Why? What happened?”

Pam shifted her brown-eyed gaze to the entrance. “I live in Chicago. It doesn't make sense for me to stay here.”

“What are you worried about? The cost? It doesn't matter; your publisher's paying for it,” Tailan shot back.

Pam pursed her lips, then quickly looked out toward the line of taxis stretched out on Rush Street.

Tailan touched Pam's arm, focusing the woman's attention where it should be. “Your publisher
did
pay for your hotel, right?”

Pam was silent for a few moments, her bright white teeth holding her bottom lip prisoner.

“Pam?”

“They only paid airfare to Indiana for me to get to the start of the tour. Ground and hotel have to come out of my own pocket.”

“Those cheap mother—” she sighed, catching herself before she let the rest slip out. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Pam shrugged. “You've done enough already.”

The NEG team walked into the lobby and acknowledged Pam and Tailan with waves and head nods as they made their way to store some items with the bellman.

“I don't want you separated from the group,” Tailan said.

“It's all right,” Pam replied, putting a tighter grip on her suitcase handle. “I'll be at the first store on time tomorrow.”

Tailan didn't doubt it. But she was angry that a major publisher would require Pam to cover some of her own expenses when another imprint of the same house paid the whole nine yards for one of the other authors. Tailan knew that Pam was already suffering from the loss of her mother and a financial set-back as well. She didn't need this.

“Michelle,” Tailan said, beckoning the blonde over. “See, if they have another king room available and put Pam in it.”

“You don't have to—”

Tailan glanced at Pam, who promptly clamped down on her protest.

Michelle looked from Tailan to Pam and back to Tailan. “Actually, they're booked solid. That's why I had such a hard time getting all of us here. She can have my room.”

“I can't let you do that,” Pam protested, her round face panicked at the thought.

Michelle waved her off. “I want to go home to my husband for a hot minute anyway. I could use a little … tender loving care. “ She handed the key card to Pam and lifted her eyebrows, “Well, maybe not so tender,” then went back to the bell desk and grabbed her things. “Hey, I think Margo's figured it out though,” she said to Tailan. “The woman hasn't called me at all today.” She gave a two-finger salute and was out the door and in a taxi before anyone could say another word.

Tailan reached out and embraced Pam. “We'll reimburse you those ground and hotel costs too.”

Pam choked up, then gave Tailan a brief account of all the wonderful things that the people on the tour had done for her. When she was finished she said, “Mama's looking out for me from up there.”

“Yes she is,” Tailan whispered and at the moment, she felt a pang of sadness because she missed her own mother. “And she'd be so proud of you.” She gripped the woman's shoulders and gave her a playful shake. “Now enough of this!” Tailan teased, drying Pam's tears with the sleeve of her aqua silk blouse. “Go on upstairs and get some rest. I expect you to be on your best hustle tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Pam said, giving her a mock salute. Then her gaze narrowed on Tailan. She placed a hand on her face. “Hey, you don't look so hot.”

“I think it was something I ate.” Tailan's hand splayed across her belly as the telltale signs of another problem became evident. “I'll be okay,” she lied. “Now get going.”

“Are you sure?”

Tailan shooed her away.

Pam trudged toward the elevators but looked back at Tailan, who gave her a smile and a thumbs up to keep her moving.

* * *

Delvin snatched open his hotel room door and froze when he saw Nona's barely dressed form on the other side.

“I thought you'd like to have a drink,” she purred, holding up a bottle of Tanqueray—something she probably believed he drank by the bucketful since he was their latest spokesperson. He rarely touched the stuff. When he did indulge, it was only for the cameras. He was very careful of the things he put in his body.

Nona stroked her talons across his chest. “And I thought I could properly …
apologize
for what I said about you the other day.”

Giggles echoed down the hall. He would bet dollars to donuts that the doors to several rooms were cracked open, their occupants listening in.

“You just don't get it, do you?” he asked. He plucked her claws from his chest and tossed them to the side. “I stopped dating your kind in high school.”

Nona took a step back. “My kind?”

“Sleeps with anything wearing pants and shoe laces,” he shot back. “
No
taste whatsoever.”

She scowled but slid her eyes all over him. “But I want you. That means I have pretty good taste.”

“I'm just a fallback option because I'm convenient,” he answered, then leaned on the door jamb. “Question. How many men—besides your husband, that is—have you slept with in the past three months?”

Nona blinked, opened her mouth, then clamped it shut.
She's actually trying to come up with an answer!

“See?” he said, grinning. “If you have to think about it, it's not a number worth knowing. Have a good night.” Before the door closed all the way, he said, “Try Derek.”

“He's married to Elona's daughter,” she said sourly.

“Oh so you
do
have morals! Then try J. L.,” he teased. “He looks like he could use a little schoolin'.”

“He turned me down,” slipped out before she could cover her mouth and keep it in. The shocked gasps from the adjoining rooms were unmistakable.
Checkmate!

“Goodnight, Nona,” he said, bawling with laughter as he closed the door on her mortified face.

Delvin's cell rang, and he laughed all the way to the bed, silently cheering the youngster for his intelligence. “What's up, Katie?

“Forgive me for chewing in your ear,” his agent said. “I didn't think you were going to pick up. How's the tour going, my man?”

Delvin popped open his suitcase and slid out two pairs of slacks. “I didn't realize that books were such a hot commodity.”

“Well, put your name on it, and it's going to sell like crazy,” Katie said. “Did you get the script that I overnighted to you? That one's going to land you another Oscar.”

Delvin glanced at the UPS package on the bed. “I'll check it out in a few.”

“I'm getting calls from Gabby's publicity team. They want to do damage control.”

“I'm not the one who's damaged,” Delvin protested, placing his outfit for the next day in the front of the closet. “I don't want her love life crap to splash on me. Keep me busy until the divorce is done.”

“Deal,” she replied. There was a lengthy pause before she said, “So come on man, spill it. We could've made a mint on that tour, but as soon as you heard Tailan's name, you went all Black Knight—ready to charge in and save the day.”

Delvin laughed, settled in a chair next to the window, then propped his legs up on the suede ottoman. “The minute this divorce is final, I'm doing what I should've done in the first place. I'm currently trying to rebuild the bridge I burned and lay a firm foundation.”

“And here I thought you'd be trying to lay something else right about now,” she zipped back, and he could imagine her wiggling her penciled eyebrows for comedic effect.

“You know I don't go in for it like that,” he replied. “I like long term, stable relationships.”

“Come on, Delvin. You have a rep to keep.”

He could only shake his head. “Please. Sell that to somebody who doesn't know better. We both know my current reputation was fabricated by your agency.”

About a month before he joined the tour, a myriad of billboards were plastered around major cities with him wearing nothing more than a Movado on his wrist, a smile, and some carefully placed shadows to obscure his nether region. They caused such a stir in some metropolitan areas that they were causing traffic accidents and had to be taken down.

“You make more money when women believe you're readily available.”

“If only they knew the truth,” he said, reaching out to scoop up her package. “I only sleep with women who mean something to me.”

“Well, that group definitely doesn't include your wife.”

“Soon-to-be-ex wife,” Delvin shot back.

“I'll drink to that.”

“You'll drink to anything,” Delvin chuckled as he flipped to the first page of the script.

“True,” Katie admitted. “Which reminds me, I'm out of here. I'm meeting a new client at Solstice for a little libation.”

He scanned the page for the description of the lead part. “Anyone I know?”

“You will when I'm done with her,” she said proudly. “I put you on the map, didn't I?”

“And oh, the mileage you've racked up.” He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed.

Delvin was glancing over the last part of the intro section of the script when there was a brisk tap at his door.
Tailan?
His heart shot up to his throat. He sprinted to the door and snatched it open. His smile dipped. Pam.

Optimism sank to his toes as he realized this visit could only mean one thing. “Aw, come on, Pam. Not you too!”

“Hold ya nuts, dude,” she snapped, frowning up at him. “I don't want ‘em.”

Delvin didn't know whether to be pleased or insulted. His “nuts” were normally in high demand, as evidenced by the fact that every single one of The Divas and the freakiest member of M-LAS had all made their way down to his door over the past three nights.

He gestured for her to come inside.

“I came to give you a heads up,” she said, sweeping a look around the room. “Something's going on with your girl. She wasn't looking so hot.”

Delvin swept past her and was down the hall in a matter of seconds.

* * *

Tailan braced herself against the railing as the elevator car pulled upward. She doubled over with pain.

The minute she opened the door to her suite, she made that infamous fifty-yard-dash to the bathroom door. Dinner was making an untimely comeback—in both directions. She hadn't been this sick since the first time she'd laid eyes on the man who had slithered into her life and changed it forever. Her mother, a fierce advocate for police presence within the community to stem the tide of drugs and crime, had finally met her match in a drug lord who had made it his mission to snare a member of the Song family in his web just to prove a point.

“You can't come over here disrespecting my house,” Lana Song had snapped when King showed up at their house demanding payment for drugs that Tailan's older brother had taken. “You come here calling us all kinds of MF's and what not.” She gestured to the anxious ones behind her. “My children are in here,” she said, shaking a fist at the burly man. “Your issue is with him. You're not supposed to be selling that stuff anyway,” she warned. “And he's not supposed to be taking it. So don't bring that mess over here anymore. If you gave an addict drugs on credit, that's your fault. You take it up with him—and not with some foolishness that you're going to have my daughter to settle his debt.”

King stiffened with anger. “That's his sister,” he said, eyeing Tailan as she froze under his lust-filled gaze. His thick lips spread into a sly smile. “I'ma be nice this time, but next time he serves her up, I'm coming to collect, and I'm tapping that ass. I don't give a damn what you say.”

Two days later, Tai and Lana Song hurried to enroll their daughter into an out-of-state summer camp for gifted children. Then Lana called in the police to arrest King so that the family would be safe. The boys in blue had failed miserably, dragging their feet before taking her as seriously as they should. By the time the complaint was heard and her parents were set to testify at King's indictment, Tailan's addict brother was found floating in the Chicago River. Her mother, Lana, was raped, tortured, then killed. Her father was shot by one of King's minions when he had tried to protect his wife from the men's brutality. Her brothers, San and Lang were killed in their beds while they slept.

Tailan had left for the camp with a nearly perfect family life behind her. She came home to mayhem, and the abandonment by her father's family had left her practically alone.