4. Love Ballad, continued
AN: Thank you for reviewing the last installment of this story. I trust y'all will be more generous with this update. A special thank you to Lovelyshmi for your assistance with this chapter.
THEN, PART IV
Rick
…
Lovers come and then lovers go
That's what folks will say
Don't they know?
They're not there when you love me
Hold me and say you care
…
I watched her retreating figure as she walked towards the door with a determined pace and braced myself for her quiet rage against the door which was certain to follow. As predicted, she slammed it shut and rattled the frame. She was a force of nature. I knew she would be okay.
Me, on the other hand, I felt something inside me die when a sharp pain seized my chest. I knew I went too far. Why the fuck did I say it? Was there even a way back from all this? What the fuck was it about her that compelled me to do these things? Whenever I was around her, I became this blithering idiot, the one I thought I left back in middle school except now, it was worse. It was like I had dual personalities, one who blindly lusts for something he could never have and the other, who had to tamp down those feelings and be the overachieving professional who won at all cost.
I knew she lied. There wasn't a damn thing wrong with her physically. Her only problem was to have had the misfortune of walking into my office a little less than a week ago and ever since that meeting, I couldn't get her out of my head. I spent my weekend trying to do just that and failed miserably. My shenanigans, however, have put an end to the possibility of something other than a professional relationship between us but I'd be lying if I said it made a difference in my head.
The buzzing intercom interrupted my mental torment. I retrieved the handset, "Yeah?"
"Mr. Grimes, this is Sasha, Mr. Blake's executive assistant.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Blake would like to meet with you at one o'clock this afternoon."
I opened up my calendar and saw I had a conflict so I sent a quick email to Beth to reschedule my afternoon. "Ok, thanks," I replied and ended the call. Just fuckin great! I thought he had the weekend to think about it, although I doubt he had much time for that given the way he introduced the new articling student to me on Friday. It was probably more like he walked by the bullpen and realized his prized paralegal was still missing and decided to change his mind. If that was the case, it really wouldn't surprise me, in his position, I wouldn't share her either.
...
Michonne
Hours later...
After running fifteen kilometres, I returned home hot and sticky.
It was a beautiful bright March afternoon. Spring had sprung early this year but it often happened this way with an exceptionally warm end of March only to be plunged right back into the depths of winter with colder climates and sometimes snow in time for Easter.
I showered, changed and returned downstairs to the kitchen where I filled the kettle and plugged it in and prepared to wait for the water to boil. In the meantime, I retrieved my favourite mug from the cupboard and prepared the tea flakes in the infuser and placed it in the mug.
I was much calmer now but naturally my mind went back to the encounter I had earlier this morning. Sash and Aaron were blowing up my phone but I really didn't want to talk about it because I had to reassess my decision to stay with the firm.
Rick crossed the line and I wasn't quite sure I could forgive his actions. They were uncalled for and as such, I had to decide whether I could work with someone who violated my privacy just for kicks.
What angered me most was that he didn't even seem to realize what he had done and I firmly believed he would do it again if need be. He was dangerous but Philip loved him because he got results, which translated to the fact that Rick Grimes had the midas touch as far as Philip was concerned. He made the firm money. As a result, I suddenly found myself between two Alphas. I knew how to deal with Philip but Rick was a wild card—something I didn't need in my life.
I was about to answer the landline which wailed on the opposite side of the large kitchen when the doorbell rang. I opted for the call to go to voicemail as I exited the kitchen to my right to the hallway which led to the front door.
I opened the door to find a young Asian man holding a huge bouquet of flowers.
"Mrs. Stone?"
"No, that's my mother so I will take them. Wait a here minute." I took the flowers and closed the door and sat them on a nearby table in the entryway. Minutes later, I returned with a tip and gave it to the delivery man.
I retrieved the bouquet from the side table and was on my way to the kitchen to place them in water when a lilac envelope fell to the floor face down. I stooped to retrieve it and flipped it over. I gasped. It read 'Michonne Monière-Stone'.
My work phone rang down the hallway. What the hell? I thought. I felt guilty because technically, I wasn't really sick, I was just having a tantrum. After all, it could be Philip who needed something. The professional in me was curious so I rushed to answer it.
Once I retrieved the phone from the study, the caller id read: Blake Mamet Martinez & Dolgen. I had no way of knowing who was on the other end of the line. It could be Philip who needed something but it could also be Sasha, Aaron, Beth, or him. I answered with the intention to hang up if it was him because flowers would not change my mind.
"Blake Mamet Martinez & Dolgen, Michonne Monière speaking."
"Omg, Michonne, it's me, Beth. I know I shouldn't be bothering you but I had to see if you were okay. You weren't answering your texts and I feel so guilty. He was in a mood this morning but I never thought he'd take it out on you. You've cleaned up Lori's mess, and for that he should be more appreciative. I'm so sorry, please forgive me." The poor girl prattled on without taking a breath.
"Beth, calm down. It wasn't your fault. Rick is a grown man, he's responsible for his own actions. I'm not mad at you."
"Are you okay, Michonne?"
"I am okay, I had a migraine and it didn't help." I lied to make the poor girl feel better.
"God, I'm so sorry to hear that. I won't keep you, please take care of yourself if you need me to do anythang—anythang at all, please don't hesitate to call."
"Thanks, Beth. I appreciate that."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, he's been summoned to Mr. Blake's office. He must've heard 'bout it cause Enid filled me in when I got back with his coffee. She said it was impossible not to hear the raised voices because the floor was relatively quiet."
"Is that so, how much did she hear?"
"Nothing really, she was too afraid to come to my desk in case he came out of his office, plus his lines were transferred to her desk. She knew the argument was with you because when the door slammed, she saw you as you went towards the elevators and you looked upset. When he gets this way, we tend to give him space. I always have emergency shredding at my desk to do when he acts like a donkey."
"Smart, girl. Take care, Beth."
"I will and you too."
…
After ending the call, I looked at the flowers and the lilac envelope which sat on the desk in front of me then turned my attention back to my unread texts. Beth really had been worried because I had ten texts from her. There was also a couple from Noah, who had been temporarily reassigned to Rick's desk, something Beth failed to mention.
On my personal phone, there were missed calls and texts from both Sasha and Aaron cursing me out for avoiding them. I laughed because I knew they would get over their hurt feelings. I just needed some space and time to think but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about the meeting going on the twelfth floor. The only way to know what they were deciding about my future was to go directly to my source, so I began texting in our group chat.
Michonne: So, by now, I'm sure y'all heard about the argument?
Sasha: Who hasn't? Wtf? The only blowout we were hoping for was your back and your inability to walk properly for a bit.
Aaron: It was bound to come to a head one way or another. Only wished it was the other…
Michonne: So, what are you hearing?
Sasha: Philp summoned him to the twelfth floor but instead of taking the meeting in his office as I expected, he had him join the tail end of the partnership meeting, which went longer than usual today. I had to order them lunch on the fly but once the others came out, the two of them remained in the aquarium. Philip's still coasting on his weekend high so I'm not sure what to make of it. However, there's a rumour that Zeke might be retiring; he suffered a major heartache last night. It could be that Philip was bringing him up to speed that he would be in the position longer than planned.
Michonne: Interesting.
Aaron: And just what the hell is that supposed to mean, Michonne?
Michonne: It simply means that I have to reassess my plan.
Sasha: Yeah, and wtf does that mean for us?
Michonne: You're still my crew, nothing changes in that aspect.
Aaron: But Montreal is not off the table, right?
Michonne: I don't know yet. I haven't talked with Philip so it all comes down to that conversation.
Sasha: But he was already keen on giving you just about everything you asked for.
Michonne: And within seventy-two hours, things have changed.
Aaron: FUCK!
Michonne: It's not a done deal either way.
Sasha: I understand, girl. You gotta do you.
Aaron: Yeah, whatever...
Michonne: Talk later.
...
I took the bouquet and the lilac envelope to the kitchen. I contemplated throwing them in the trash but reconsidered because one of my parents would notice them and there would still be a conversation so I filled a vase of water and placed them in it.
Given that they were now on display, I decided to read the card and was pleasantly surprised. Sasha had secrets too. The flowers were from Philip thanking me for a great job and wishing me a speedy recovery.
I wondered just what Philip was up to now. Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of time to ponder that factor when the front door opened and I heard my parents' voices. Immediately, I went into worry mode. My father usually left the office between seven and eight. My mother, the physician, had more respectable hours in her practice.
"Darling, you're home, what a lovely surprise." Mom greeted me when she walked into the kitchen and found me standing there, looking puzzled with the card in my hand.
She took in the flowers on the countertop and smiled, hopeful that I won't die alone, no doubt. Her hope was evident in the small smile on her face but she said nothing.
My mother was a strong black woman. She loved me to a fault but the same could be said of my father and it broke my heart that my personal life was a mess. Professionally, my plan worked but the personal side of things was shit. Part of it was my fault and the other part was Dad's fault. It seems the men I dated, or boys as he referred to them, were not worthy of me. He wasn't wrong because one encounter with him usually sent them running. Eventually, I gave up and threw myself into my career, a place where I excelled. I worked in my father's mailroom from the time I was sixteen and when I turned eighteen and started my three-year program in Montreal, I applied to my uncle Philip's firm, under my mother's maiden name. I worked in the library doing legal research. When Mom got sick, I was in my final year. On graduation day, I didn't celebrate like the rest of my classmates. I showed up and accepted my diploma because it was important for mom that I did it. After the ceremonies, we drove home together and that was it.
I took some leave, during which time I asked to be transferred to HQ so that I would be closer to home. Six months later, I applied to the first paralegal opening which was one of two positions to be a paralegal in corporate. What I didn't know at the time was that the position was one of two coveted spots for the partners. I was so shocked when Philip walked into the interview room and sat down and started grilling me mercilessly.
I got the position and then deferred my first year to law school while Mom underwent her treatments. That was two and a half years ago. The deal was that I would eventually go back to my studies but I kept making excuses. This year, however, mom called me on it so I reapplied. My parents were happy that I did, so I knew they would support me whatever I decided.
It was no secret, however, that Mom would have rathered that I was a little less like my father but I am who I am. She still loved me anyway.
In love, I wanted what they had. They were thirty years married and thirty-two years together and they were still very much in love. They still laughed at each other's stupid jokes and found every reason to touch one another and finished the other's sentences. I know it sounds corny but it's cute watching them together. Theirs was the stuff of those Hallmark movies. You know the ones that were so sweet it was nauseating, the reason being was because the people were actors. Watching my folks together was very real. It was embarrassing at times, but never nauseating.
Standing there in our kitchen, Mom's eyes said what her lips couldn't. It scared the hell out of me. The fact that my parents were together in the middle of the afternoon meant it was an appointment I didn't know about.
I wrapped my arms around my mother, fearful of what remained unsaid between us. My tears started and that's when dad found us.
He took one look at me and his booming voice calmed me.
"I am a very lucky man to have two beautiful, strong women in my life." Dad came towards us and sandwiched Mom between us in a nice family hug."
As we broke apart, Dad hugged me tight and kissed the top of my head, as he would when I was a child who needed consoling.
"Darlin' is something wrong? Do you need Daddy to slay some dragons for you?"
I laughed through my tears. That's when I realized there was a huge misunderstanding. He wasn't sad. He thought I was in trouble. Good old Dad, he was always ready to slay my dragons, real or imagined. I loved him so much. As old as I was, I automatically felt like a younger version of myself. My father towered over my mother and me with his six foot two husky frame. He was like a huge teddy bear.
"No, Daddy. I'm good."
Just then, Mom returned to the kitchen with a scotch neat and offered it to Dad. He accepted it, then, the three of us moved towards the kitchen table and took our respective places. This was where many Stone family decisions took place.
Mom made us both a cup of tea. I love my mom's naivety, still refusing to acknowledge that I drank especially after the state in which she found me Saturday morning when she informed me that I smelled like a distillery.
"Sweetheart, if you're good, why the long face and tears?"
"Because my parents are either playing hooky or there was an appointment no one bothered to tell me about."
Mom lowered her head. I knew I was right.
"Are you sick again, Mom?"
"No. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I'm in remission. We were going to tell you tonight over dinner tonight."
"We didn't tell you because we didn't see any point in getting your hopes up too. If the news remained the same, it would change nothing," Dad explained.
"I'm a part of this family and I should be included in these decisions, Dad."
"Sweetheart, don't blame your dad, it was my decision not to tell you. Today's news means I'll be here for a long while. Now, dear, who's your admirer?" she smiled coyly, effectively putting an end to the discussion and segwaying into what she really wanted to know.
"It's not what you think, Mom. Uncle Philip sent them."
I couldn't hide anything from my parents. They were like a tag team.
"Is everything okay, dear? You are usually home around the time Dad gets home," my mother stated, extending her hand touching my forehead checking my temperature.
"I'm fine, Mom."
"So, why aren't you at work?" Dad tagged in, "Are you in trouble?"
"No, Dad. I wasn't feeling very well so I came home. Uncle Philip told me to take a couple of days off." I maintained the lie I told because I knew it would come up later once the two spoke.
"Did you want me to start somethin' to eat, Mom? I am not sure why, but Jackie wasn't here when I arrived home. She must be sick or something so there's nothing for dinner."
"No, darlin', we intended to go out, I gave Jackie the day off. Why don't you go upstairs and freshen up? Dinner is at 8:15."
…
Later that night...
Dining with my parents usually meant something upscale so I dressed accordingly. I wore a simple black dress with black heels and carried a small silver clutch. Mom wore a royal blue dress with black heels and a black clutch purse. Dad had showered and changed into a black suit with a white button-down shirt, a royal blue tie with matching pocket square effectively matching both of us. He always took the time to add little details like that.
…
The restaurant was elegant as usual. The taupe and brown colour scheme and the exposed stone walls created a warm homey atmosphere. In another context, where I wasn't dining with my parents, I would say a romantic atmosphere. The taupe and brown upholstery looked chic next to the crisp white table linen and hung through out the restaurant were contemporary paintings.
Any other night, I would cringe being to be seen as a third wheel on a date with my parents, but not tonight. It was a celebration dinner so I sucked it up and made the best of it.
After ordering dinner, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Naturally, Mom accompanied me. We were halfway across the room when I heard his voice and looked towards my right. He was two tables away from us, raising his glass in a toast, sitting at a table with Mr. Walsh and their respective blondes. Our eyes met for what seemed like an instant but it was long enough that my mother noticed.
"Carry on, darlin'." She added and gave me a gentle push, propelling me forward.
I hadn't realized I stopped walking altogether. I resumed walking, placing one foot carefully in front of the other while praying to God that I didn't trip or break a heel or something stupid like that, to be a spectacle for this man.
Just like that, my anger was back. My spirits had lifted knowing my mother was in remission, which made me forget albeit temporarily my silly problems.
...
Rick
"Congratulations, man! That was an excellent and well-written decision." We were celebrating Shane's latest victory. The appellate court's decision which came down earlier today upheld the jury's award.
I don't know what it was that made me look towards my right but when I did, there she was—Michonne and the mould from which she was made, an older version of herself with short salt and pepper dreadlocks standing a couple of tables away. My eyes met theirs and I became distracted.
"Dis' somethin' new? Ain't it customary to drink to your own toast?" Shane asked and looked in the direction of my gaze. Thankfully, the women had moved on. I drank the entire shot of scotch and signalled the waiter for a double.
...
Michonne
Even later that night...
After Dad retreated to his office, my mother cornered me in my room. She didn't even knock first because I'm sure she knew I would pretend to be sleeping.
As such, I had just finished brushing my teeth when I heard the door to my room open. I removed my contacts and returned to my room. I put on my glasses and sat on my bed. Mom sat on the vanity stool.
"Mom, it's late and I'm tired."
"I'm sure you are dear but did you want to explain what happened back at the restaurant?"
"Nothing happened, Mom. I thought I heard voices I recognized and I did. They were two attorneys from work."
"Oh?"
"Oh what, Mom?"
"Nothing, dear. I am sure if it was something more, you would tell your mother. You've always come to me before for advice, this should be no different."
"Mom, I promise you, there's absolutely nothing going on."
"Darlin', I won't judge you. That's what others do. Your parents will always love and support your choices even if we may not always agree with them."
"Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it."
Mom stood as though she was preparing to leave but then sat back down again. Oh God, I groaned under my breath.
"Even though it may look like I was born yesterday, truth be told, I wasn't, so I'm going to tell you what I saw. At the sound of that man's voice, you stopped dead in your tracks. Something is afoot even if you don't realize it yourself. That man looked at you with a longing I've only seen in another man, namely, your father. I knew he was the one when he looked at me like there was no other woman in the room or the world for that matter."
"Ohhhh, Mom, that's so gross. Did you see him? He's Dad's age. I love my dad but I don't want to marry 'im, Mom."
Mom chuckled at me. "Darlin', that's what one would call distinguished looking. He's not hard on the eyes and he comes with experience."
"Gross, Mom."
It was disturbing that Mom found him attractive. I knew my mom loved my dad very much and she found men like Denzel Washington and Dennis Haysbert attractive. In fact, I often teased her that she married the State Farm Guy because dad kinda looks like him. But never have I ever heard my mother admit she found an everyday person, I mean someone that we could run into in our neighbourhood, attractive. I cringed at the thought.
"Your father couldn't very well say that he's a boy now, could he?"
"Oh my God, Mom. Please stop this, it's making me uncomfortable. If you should know, I worked on his desk for a week and he went behind my back to keep me there for the next six months. I hate him because he never asked me what I wanted. Plus, I don't know how he found out but he knows Uncle Philip is my godfather and I'm Barrington Stone's daughter. We had a heated discussion this morning because what he did was a gross invasion of my privacy. All that mattered was my competency. Plus, I never applied to work for him."
He even alleged that there was nepotism involved in me being where I am at the firm, when in fact Uncle Philip only found out I worked for him when he walked into my interview.
Mom chuckled some more. It made me mad. "Whose side are you on in this, anyway?"
"Always yours, my love. But it sounds to me that you have both met your match. I dare say, he likes you very much to have gone to all that trouble."
"Mom, you know I love you, right?"
"Of course, darlin'".
"Please don't take this the wrong way, but right now, you're not exactly my favourite person. I'm tired and I want to go to bed so could you please leave me alone?"
My mother simply burst out laughing. She stood once more and came to me. She hugged me tight and kissed the top of my head like she did when I was a little child. "Good night, dear. But just so you know, you are almost twenty-three and that man is not yet forty. If I was to hazard a guess, maybe thirty-four—thirty-five at most."
And with that hanging in the air, my mother walked towards the door and left me to my thoughts.
…
Rick
Later that night...
After seeing Michonne, the night had taken a turn for the worst. Seeing her was a buzzkill.
Even before knowing the court's decision, I had made plans. I needed to get over the morning I had so I sent Jessie a text. She was game and we were consenting adults. We had an arrangement. Whenever either of us was in need, as long as the other wasn't in a committed relationship, we'd hook up. She was good in a pinch and she gave good head and God knows I needed to get off in the worst way. After dinner, I accompanied Jessie upstairs to her place to do just that. I had thought of almost nothing else that day because I had some pent-up frustrations to get rid of. I also liked that she allowed me to get a little rough every now and then. And for all these reasons, I was here on a mission. After the usual dry humping and feverish kissing in the elevator, we finally fell into her condo when the door flew open. My back was now against the door and Jessie was on knees on the floor. Within minutes, my pants and boxers were against my ankles. Her hands manipulated my semi-hard cock and my balls. Her hand, tongue and mouth worked on my cock but something was wrong, so I closed my eyes and imagined a different set of hands, tongue and mouth on my cock and I felt myself harden almost instantly. But, as soon as my fingers touched the straight thin hair on the head at my crotch, my cock retreated. I groaned. Fuck! I thought.
It didn't matter what Jessie did, my cock remained flaccid— it just would not launch. This shit never happened to me before. I apologized for the night and left.
As soon as I got home, I went directly to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes and got in the warm shower. It didn't take me very long to achieve my release.
Later, lying naked in bed, sleep eluded me so I watched the tent slowly rise below. It was pointless. My earlier release barely took the edge off my situation. I wanted—needed more. If I was to get any sleep at all tonight, I had to take care of it. I reached for the nightstand and rummaged in the drawer until I found the bottle of lotion I kept there for emergencies and God knows, tonight was just that. With a dollop of lotion in my hand, I snaked my hand under the sheet and grabbed my cock and began massaging it. I closed my eyes and I could smell the faint floral scent she wore that morning and that damn green dress which clung to her lithe body like a second skin. Except this time, it was hitched up her thighs as she straddled my cock and her skimpy panties were on the floor. With the taste of her on my lips, her stifled moans in my ear, her arms wrapped tight around me for support and her tight, wet pussy on my cock, the office noise just outside my office culminated, as I pistoned into her, up against the door. Her body quivered against mine I groaned as I felt the warm release against my skin.
Once I regained my senses, I wondered just what kind of spell this woman had cast over me.
…
Michonne
much later that night...
I looked at my watch and it was late. I had never been in the file room this late at night, alone. Unfortunately, it went against every grain in my body to leave now that I was halfway through my work. I hadn't heard him come in when I felt a presence in the room and naturally, my phone was on the table several feet away so I waited to see just what they would do.
"Are you here?" came his voice from an aisle or two behind me.
"Over here. Did you want something?"
"It's late. Just checking to see that you're okay. I'm about to call it a night you should too."
"I have half a box of documents left to review. I really can't leave it now. It's a thing."
He chuckled as he came into view.
"What? I'd much rather start a new box tomorrow than continue this one."
"Nothing," he replied but it was the way he said it. There was mischief in those crystal blues of his.
"Whatever."
"What if I gave you a hand, it'll go faster and we can both get out of here, deal?"
"Deal." I agreed.
He carried the box to the nearest table and I passed him half of the documents and took my pile.
As I read through the documents and flipped the pages over, I felt his eyes on me again. "Something wrong?"
"You were right. There was a smoking gun after all. The investigation report was misfiled. Our client didn't get it wrong. The elevator was out of service, days before the accident. I walked over to where he sat and leaned over his shoulder to read the small print of the report.
His head turned unexpectedly and his lips grazed mine. The sensation caused my body to tingle all over. Our eyes met and in that instant, we both knew this encounter was something different. He held my face in place and kissed me then he pulled away. My heart raced and my chest tightened at the loss of our brief connection.
His eyes changed. It was as if a storm raged within them—they were almost cobalt blue. Momentarily, he seemed to struggle deciding whether or not to give in to the moment, then suddenly his hungry lips descended upon mine in a passionate embrace and my eyes flew open.
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