Do Not Disturb 2 (Interracial Erotic
Romance)
Violet Williams
Published by Quiver Publishing
Copyright 2012 Violet Williams
Keisha Wallace is on cloud nine. She
was awarded a prestigious full scholarship
to Mauryville State and can quit her job as a
maid at Winterhorn Inn and Suites and fo-
cus on her education and raising her son.
The cherry on top is that her devilishly
handsome boyfriend, Senator Jake Cun-
ningham, bought a house in town so they
can begin to build a life together.
But not everyone is singing the new
couple's praises. Jake's billionaire entre-
preneur father thinks dating Keisha is a
disgrace and puts destroying their union at
the top of his to-do list. Will they be able to
weather the storm together, or will the
drama destroy them?
Do Not Disturb 2 is the follow-up to
Amazon and All Romance Ebooks best-
selling book,
Do Not Disturb 2 is an interracial
erotic romance novella, clocking in at
19,350 words. It includes sexually explicit
situations.
Connect with Vi online at:
etwillamserotica.wordpress.com
E-book License Edition Notes
This eBook is licensed for your per-
sonal enjoyment only. This eBook may not
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Thank you for respecting the author's work.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
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Chapter One
Keisha
Keisha Wallace had spent hours get-
ting ready for her date with her boyfriend,
Senator Jake Cunningham. First, she took a
long bubble bath with some of her favorite
suds from Avon while giving her toes a fresh
coat of crimson polish. Then, there was flat
ironing her hair bob length ebony hair and
battling with the naps in the back that had a
mind of their own. The full service with
vanilla body butter, then painstakingly ap-
plying her makeup: rouge on the cheeks, a
fain gold shimmer to bring out her ma-
hogany eyes and make her little black dress
pop. Over two hours of hard work that was
coming undone at the seams as Jake ran his
hands up and down her thigh beneath the
table.
They were at Bella Monica, a neigh-
borhood Italian restaurant in Raleigh. They’d
come to celebrate her scholarship win, but
right now, beads of sweat were coursing
down her temple and careening down her
neck. She slumped down in the booth, her
heart racing as his fingertips hit her panty
line and god damn if he didn’t make her
want to say the hell with dinner and go out to
the car and have him strip her bare and have
his way.
His pointer pushed between her quiv-
ering folds and he let out a low chuckle. She
glanced over at him, his blue eyes going
round with surprise. He shouldn’t have been.
It would have been more surprising if his
touch didn’t make her moist with desire.
From his golden skin to his strong jaw line
and lush lips, Jake was built like some warri-
or from the old days, all power and virility.
But as a boyfriend, as a lover, he was so sens-
itive, so tuned into the needs and wants of
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her body. Even now, with only one finger, he
was making it difficult to not orgasm on the
spot. He loved to tease her like this, knowing
that she had to moan, especially with him in-
side her. And Bella Monica was filled with
other patrons, patrons that probably would
have issues with her cries of ecstasy while
they were trying to enjoy their dishes.
She dropped her hand to her thigh
and cleared her throat, stopping his hot trail.
“S-so this is your neck of the woods, what do
you rec-recommend?”
He gave her a wink as he took his
pointer and traced her thigh. When Keisha
shot him a warning look, he let out a
resigned sigh and brought his hand from be-
neath the table. He wiped his hand on the
napikin and gripped his wine glass. “The
manicotti is delicious.”
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“Mmm,” Keisha’s eyes scanned the
menu, but she’d much rather scan her lover.
Underneath his clothes, every muscle and
cut combined to make a man she couldn’t
say no to. A man that made her scream in
octaves that would make an opera singer
turn green with envy. Jake was a man that
made her heart swell with one glance. A man
that held her after they made love and asked
about her son, Caleb. A man that loved her.
Jake sipped his wine then turned his
gaze back to Keisha, his blue eyes glittering
with interest. “What?”
She knew she was staring at him, but
she couldn’t help it. She leaned over and
pressed her lips against his, brushing his
cheek as she roamed his mouth with her
own, trying to express just how much he
meant to her; just how much she cared.
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Keisha’s cheeks were hot as she pulled
back and turned her attention back to the
task at hand. Manicotti and red wine. They
were there to celebrate. She had to think
about that and not his naked body pressed
tightly against her own.
Her scholarship win was definitely
cause for celebration. After leaving Harvard
when she got pregnant with her son and tak-
ing night classes to try and finish up her de-
gree, a full ride meant she could quit her job
as a maid at Winterhorn Inn and Suites and
focus on school and stay at home with Caleb.
And then there was Jake. She felt as
giddy as a school girl whose crush checked
the ‘yes’ box. After all the dead end dates and
disappointments, dating him was a dream,
even though he lived in DC most of the week.
He made her look forward to Friday nights
like Christmas morning.
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Jake brought his hand over and placed it on
top of Keisha’s. “I’m so proud of you, babe.”
Keisha grinned. “I am pretty awesome,
huh?”
“And humble,” Jake cracked, closing his
menu.
The waiter saddled up to their table
and took their orders. Keisha ordered the
manicotti and was glad when the waiter
hustled away. She wanted as much time with
him as possible. Jake had flown down from
DC for the weekend, coming all the back to
Mauryville when Keisha called him in tears
with the news. She’d been so excited about
the scholarship and what it meant for her fu-
ture. She could finish her degree in a year in-
stead of the two plus that night school af-
forded her. She could spend more time with
Caleb.
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"You're really doing it." Jake said, beaming
with pride.
He was so adorable. “I am.”
“It’s just so amazing.”
"You sound like you had doubt,”
Keisha winked. To be honest, Keisha had.
Single, black, female mothers were a dime a
dozen, and she’d worried that her essay
wouldn’t be gripping or unique enough. But
they’d loved it, calling her story ‘moving’ and
‘inspiring’.
"Nah," he said with a grin. "Ever since
I met you I knew you were different. Driven.
Unique." He smoothed the front of his V-
neck sweater, suddenly seeming fidgety.
Nervous.
A flash of fear went through Keisha.
Was he ending things? Was he having
doubts?
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"I have something I want to talk to
you about, Keisha."
All color drained from her face. "Oh
no." Maybe they moved too fast. He had a re-
election campaign to run after all on top of
everything else. The attack ads had been es-
pecially vicious lately. "Jake, I-"
His aqua eyes went wide as he took
her in. He picked up on the fact that she was
starting to freak. "Jesus, it's not anything
bad." He slid a little closer and looped an
arm around her shoulder, pecking her on the
forehead. "It's something good. Something
good for us."
Keisha bit her lip, embarrassed that
he'd almost seen her go into cardiac arrest
over the very thought of them breaking up. If
he didn't know she had it bad before, it was
loud and clear now. "W-What's up?"
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He downed the rest of his wine before
he continued. "You know I spend a lot of
time in DC."
"Mmhm."
"And I have an apartment in Raleigh.
Not that I've frequented it or anything
lately." She knew that better than anyone.
She'd practically taken up residence at Win-
terhorn, even having a crib delivered so
Caleb could spend time with them when they
weren't, uh, otherwise engaged.
She gave him a nod to continue.
"But I've been considering buying a
house in Mauryville." He swallowed. “Well a
little more than considering. I’ve, uh, closed
on a house.”
Keisha clasped her hands together.
"That's great! We could get out of the hotel
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so I don't have to deal with Monique giving
me the stink eye."
Monique should count her many
blessings and name them one by one: 1) that
she was still in the good graces of Carmen,
the icy cool manager at Winterhorn , even
though she quit without giving notice, 2) that
the check Jake's squirrely former advisor
paid her didn't bounce, although in the end it
didn't matter since she blew it in Vegas, and
3) that she still had all her teeth for stooping
so low and trying to end Keisha and Jake’s
relationship with her charade.
Carmen was wise enough not to put
the two of them on the same team, but it
didn't stop them from crossing paths. Every
time she saw Monique's face, she had to fight
the urge to lay her out. But she wanted to set
a good example for Caleb...and an all-out
brawl at Winterhorn would only arm Jake's
opponents.
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"Yeah...if I don't have to look at that
woman's face ever again, it'll be too soon,"
Jake piped, shaking his head. He traced the
stem of the glass. Clearly there was
something else. "The house I’m talking about
is only a few blocks from Mauryville State. A
few blocks in the good neighborhood direc-
tion," he added.
Keisha dropped her fork. Holy crap.
Was he asking what she thought he was
asking? "Jake--are you asking me to move in
with you?"
He looked at her intently. "Yes. You
and Caleb."
Her ears rang as she swallowed his
words. As far as practicality, it made sense.
After all, when he was in town they spent
most of their time together. But moving in,
living together? That was a big deal. The part
of her that got lost in his blue eyes and
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thought about waking up to him on Saturday
mornings, standing over the stove as he
danced around the kitchen with Caleb in his
arms, screamed yes. The dreamer, the lover
in Keisha wanted nothing more than to take
the next step. But the rational part of her
mind, the one that was lit up with dread
every time an attack ad came on, that
wondered when the shoe would drop and
Jake would decide he was better off with a
socialite than a single mom was leery.
"Are you sure, Jake?" she asked softly.
"Do you know what you're getting into?"
"Well hopefully," he whispered, drop-
ping his hand back to her thigh, "I'll be get-
ting between those legs sooner rather than
later."
She held his hand steady. "I'm being
serious."
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He gave her a small nod, stroking her leg
gently. "I know sweetheart. So am I."
"But Jake-"
"And I know you've been screwed by love, by
trusting men."
He spoke of Holden, Caleb's dad.
Keisha had loved him the moment she set
eyes on him, believed every lie he told her.
When she got pregnant, he fell off the face of
the earth. She’d tried dating after, but those
that weren't out for sex usually had a prob-
lem with Caleb.
But not Jake. He loved Caleb. Rocking
him to sleep, dancing with him, hell, he even
tolerated mind numbing programs on the
kid network.
His eyes searched hers, needing some
sort of sign. Needing a response.
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"I know it's a big deal," he said after a
moment. "But I love you. I love Caleb. I want
to build a home, a future with you."
"I love you too," she said, leaning to-
ward him until her forehead touched his. The
contact, skin to skin, made more sense than
anything Keisha had ever known.
To fall in love was to shut your eyes
and leap, hoping as you plummeted down
someone would catch you. Never allow harm
to come to you.
Keisha jumped, feeling the smile on
her face as she dove into the unknown.
"Okay. I'll move in with you."
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Chapter Two
Jake
“Have you completely lost your
mind?”
Jake Cunningham had always been
grateful that his father, Conrad, never
minced words.
Since he was the son of a successful
entrepreneur that had his fingers in just
about every successful pie in the continental
US, Jake had always been treated with kid
gloves. Throughout most of his youth, he’d
always questioned if his teachers and friends
only got close out of hopes that manna would
rain from heaven or tiptoed around him out
of fear that they’d fall out of his father’s good
graces.
He could always count on his father to
give it to him straight—but he found a part of
him wished he could at least pretend to be
happy about Keisha, even though he knew it
was fool’s hope.
“I mean, this is completely insane,
Jake,” Conrad railed on, loosening his tie.
“According to Dr. Jackman, I’ve got a
clean bill of mental health—in fact, she says
I’m the happiest she’s seen in a long time.”
It was the truth. Considering Mar-
shal’s team had been pulling out all the
stops, digging out every skeleton and quote
taken out of context to bloody him in the
public eye, it had to be the gospel truth. Last
race, he’d lived in the gym, sweating it out to
keep from exploding. But how could he be
upset, how could he take anything personal
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when he knew Keisha would be waiting for
him at the end of the tunnel?
“That woman is an overpriced crackpot,”
Conrad seethed.
“Right,” Jake said with a bitter chuckle. “Still
raw that she didn’t try to dissuade me from
Trixie, I see.”
Conrad’s aqua eyes clouded over. “Don’t
even say that girl’s name in my presence.”
He’d get no complaints from Jake. It
was hard to believe that just four months ago
he’d spent most of his waking moments won-
dering where he went wrong, craving the way
her hair smelled, missing her son’s lopsided
smile, longing to pummel her asshole ex-
boyfriend. She’d probably shacked back up
with him by now.
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It didn’t matter. Trixie ending things
was a blessing in disguise. The heartbreak
paved the road to Keisha and Caleb.
His father signaled the waiter as he
settled in his chair. Jake smirked as he took
him in. How his father managed to make a
plush seat in Bibbus Restaurant look like a
throne was a thing of skill. But Jake wasn’t
his subject. He could order him to end things
with Keisha ‘til he turned blue in the face,
but it was a waste of time.
“I’m sure she’s-” Conrad paused,
probably trying to think of a word other than
‘tawdry’, ‘poor’, or ‘black’. It was his father’s
trifecta of doom, even though his investment
firm was involved with numerous inner city
charities. Jake knew that beneath the flash-
ing bulbs and publicity, his dad was a bit of a
racist.
“She’s what, Dad?”
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“Lovely,” Conrad said after taking a
sip of wine. “But now is just not the time to
be taking on anymore scandal. Not when
you’re trailing Marsh by ten points.”
Jake sliced his steak with sharp jabs.
“I’m sorry falling in love is inconvenient. But
my mind’s made up, Dad. What Keisha and I
have is real. And she’s not going anywhere.”
Conrad let out a groan of frustration. “You’re
gonna give me a heart attack, Jake. You’re
gonna give it all up, your career-”
“Your hefty contributions,” Jake cut in
bitingly.
Conrad ignored him. “You’re gambling it all
on some woman?”
“She’s not just some woman,” Jake said, his
voice rising. “You don’t know a thing about
her.”
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“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.” Conrad
leaned over and opened his briefcase, pulling
out a manila folder.
Jake narrowed his eyes. “Dad you didn’t…”
He gave Jake an innocent shrug. “It was just
a simple background check.”
“Yeah, right,” Jake scoffed, wiping his
mouth. “You’ll probably tell me her moment
of birth, her blood type, her genetic
makeup-”
“Don’t be dramatic, son,” Conrad said
icily. He scanned the stack of paper before
him. “Keisha Nicole Wallace. 24 years old,
born and raised in Teachey, North Carolina,
moved to Mauryville at fifteen with her
mother.” He stroked his chin. “She did excel-
lent academically despite her handicaps.”
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Jake felt the anger bubble at the heart
of him. “And what handicaps would that be?
Being black? Working class?”
Conrad ignored him. “Received a
competitive scholarship to Harvard. Per-
formed mediocrely and eventually dropped
out when she discovered she was pregnant.”
He shook his head slowly, his perfectly coifed
features going sour. “You can do better, son.
Even on a bad day.”
Jake’s anger spilt over and he
slammed his fist on the table. “God damn it,
Dad!”
Conrad polished off his wine, not even
flinching. “Don’t make a scene.”
A flash of fury shuttled through him.
He wanted to do so much more than ‘cause a
scene’. He wanted to give the hoity toity
diners that surrounded them a reason to
clutch their pearls. He wanted to sock his
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father, wipe the self-righteous smirk right off
his face. “I’m not gonna let you talk down
about Keisha, or drive a wedge between us.”
He rose to his feet, buttoning his jacket. He
needed to get out of there before he did
something he’d really regret.
“Sit down.”
“I’m not fifteen anymore, Dad,” Jake’s
voice was a low rumble and Conrad’s face
went pale.
They’d promised to never talk about
that day again, but it came shuttling back.
The way Jake felt powerless, his father’s iron
grip tight around his throat. He couldn’t do
anything then, but he was a grown man now.
He didn’t have to grin and bear it.
Conrad cleared his throat. “I’m sorry
if I offended you.” He gestured at the empty
chair beside Jake. “Please sit back down.”
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Jake jutted out his lip, not wanting to
give an inch. It was easier to walk away when
his father was being his normal, overbearing
self,
but
now,
he
looked
genuinely
apologetic.
Jake slowly reached out and pivoted
the chair back to the table and sunk into it.
“No more trashing Keisha, or this lunch is
over.”
“I won’t trash the girl again.”
“The girl? Her name is Keisha, Dad.”
“Yep.”
“Say it.”
Conrad rolled his blue eyes skyward. “I won’t
disparage Keisha.”
His father still said her name like he had
something rotten in his mouth, but it was a
start. “Thank you.”
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“Now about the campaign-”
Jake massaged his temple. “Why can’t we
just enjoy lunch, Dad?”
“Because that won’t get you in the White
House,” Conrad said simply. “Now, about
Roman-”
“Don’t even waste your breath trying
to convince me to bring him back on board,”
Jake said without missing a beat. To be hon-
est, he thought allowing his former advisor
to leave his employ with both knees in tact
was rather generous. Just thinking of him
plotting, paying off Keisha’s coworker, trying
to trick him into ending things, made him
furious all over again.
“I’m not here to tell you to reinstate
him, Jake.” Conrad gave the waiter a cordial
smile when she brought their bill. He pulled
out his black visa and the waitress took it
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and hustled away. “If you recall, I was
against you hiring him in the first place.”
That was true. His dad believed he
should have gone with someone with a little
more campaign experience. But Roman had
been with Jake from the beginning, back in
college when the idea of being a senator,
even with his father’s connections, seemed
so far off and impossible. They’d been
friends, best friends even, until he drew the
line and leapt over it.
“So what are you fishing for?” Jake said fi-
nally. “An ‘I told you so’?”
“No. I’m simply suggesting that it’s time for
you to bring someone else on.”
“I have Raven Julliard.”
“Please,” Conrad snorted. “I could hear how
overwhelmed she was from two states over.”
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Jake hated to admit it, but his father
had a slight point. Raven had the makings of
a great strategist, but she still had a ways to
go. “And I’m sure you have someone in
mind.”
“I do.”
Jake watched as his father slid his folder
back into his briefcase and crossed his arms,
toying with him.
“Well, don’t leave me in suspense, Dad.”
Conrad leaned forward. “How about me?”
“How about you, what?”
“How about I become the show runner?
Beneath you, of course.”
Jake couldn’t have heard him right. And he
couldn’t imagine him being beneath anyone.
“You can’t be serious.”
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“No need to insult me,” Conrad said with a
look.
Jake leaned back. “Not trying to insult you. I
just don’t think you know what you’re get-
ting yourself into.”
Conrad held his head high, sitting up
like a lord on a great stead, explaining
something painfully simple to a commoner.
“I am at the front of a multi-billion dollar
company. If I can take on the sharks, I’m
more than capable of ensuring your win.”
His father came from humble begin-
nings, taking on the world with a shoe-string
budget, building his empire from the ground
up. But the thought of the two of them not
going their separate ways, Jake back to the
Hill and his father to NY, was unsettling. He
already had to psych himself up for just
spending a two hour lunch with him. Roman,
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as an advisor, had been a handful—his father
would be a monster.
Conrad must have sensed the hesita-
tion and sweetened the pot. “It’s a win/win,
son. I’m cheap labor—and this will give me a
chance to get to know Keisha and, uh, Carl.”
“Caleb.”
“Right. Caleb.” He looked him dead
on. “So what’s your answer?”
Jake needed help. He had a laundry
list of why it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t
deny the benefits. Heck, having the extra set
of hands would free him up for more time
with Keisha.
He drew a deep breath, pushing aside
his reservations. “Okay, Dad. You can help
with the campaign.”
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Chapter Three
Keisha
Keisha paused in front of the re-
volving door of Winterhorn Inn and Suites.
Almost two years of thinking about the end,
how she was working toward the goal of do-
ing what she was moments from do-
ing—marching up to Carmen and giving her
two-weeks notice. No more dealing with
guests that undressed her with their eyes, no
more scrubbing toilets and listening to the
never ending drone of the vacuum cleaner or
her manager’s clipped condescension.
She pulled her crimson cardigan tight
around her. As nice as giving her notice
would be, she still had to soldier through two
more weeks of maid service. She stepped
toward the door and froze when she saw Mo-
nique’s reflection glittering beside her.
The rational part of her brain told her
to just go in. No good would come from a
confrontation. She listened to it, ‘til the trick
opened her mouth.
“Well if it isn’t the First Lady.”
Monique’s very voice was like nails on
a chalkboard, screeching and making Keisha
wince. The angel on her shoulder said to ig-
nore the schemer, but when Monique had
the audacity to reach out and touch her, all
bets were off.
Keisha spun to face Monique, her
brown eyes flashing dangerously. “Don’t you
dare put a hand on me!”
Monique returned the hand to her
side, her lip twitching. “There’s no reason to
be rude, sweetie.”
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Sweetie? That was rich. “I’m not your
sweetie.” She balled a fist. “Unless you have a
little bit of that money put aside for plastic
surgery, I’d think twice before you talk to or
touch me again.”
Monique stood her ground. “And what
would you have me do, Queen Keisha?”
“When you see me, walk the other way.”
Monique made a face. “I’m a grown ass wo-
man. I’ll be damned if you’re gonna tell me
what to do.”
Keisha got ready to lay her out. “And you’re
about to get a grown ass beat down.”
“MIJA!”
Keisha faltered as she saw Maria hur-
rying down the sidewalk toward them. Mo-
nique wisely took the opportunity to push in-
side the hotel.
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Maria’s weary eyes narrowed in disappoint-
ment as she reached Keisha’s side. “What do
you think you’re doing?”
“Knocking that bitch out.”
“Keisha!”
Now that Monique was out of Keisha’s
line of sight, her blood went from a hard boil
to a simmer and she let out a deep breath. “I
can’t stomach her, Maria.”
Maria brought her in for a hug. “Don’t
let her steal your joy. You’ve only got two
weeks left and you’re out of this place.” She
pulled back, surveying Keisha’s face. “Just
keep your eye on the prize.”
Keisha nodded. Maria was right. As
much joy as dotting Monique’s eyes would
bring her, she wasn’t worth it.
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Maria changed the subject as they
pushed into the lobby. “So how was the cel-
ebration dinner?”
Keisha grinned, remembering. He’d
been right about the manicotti. It had been
delicious, but the main course had been him
dropping the bombshell, asking her and
Caleb to move in with him. “Dinner was
incredible.”
Maria nudged her playfully. “It must
have been one helluva dish of pasta—or are
you holding something back?”
Keisha waved at the receptionist, de-
lighting in her friend waiting with bated
breath. “It’s kinda crazy…I mean, I still can’t
believe it happened.”
Maria held open the door to the mainten-
ance stairwell. “Don’t leave me in suspense!”
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Keisha descended behind her, biting her lip.
“He bought a house in the suburbs and, uh,
kinda asked me to move in with him.”
“Kinda?” Maria repeated shrilly. “Dios mio!
What did you say?”
Keisha swallowed. “I said yes.”
Once they reached the landing, Maria
gave her another bear hug. “Oh Keisha—I’m
so happy for you! If anyone deserves this, it’s
you, honey.” She squeezed tight. “I really
mean it.”
It was nice to hear. After Holden,
dealing with walking away from her Ivy
League education, and her mother’s endur-
ing cold shoulder for the past two years; all
the dates, the disappointment, and the long
hours, it was nice to hear someone say that
she deserved a little happiness.
41/165
“We’re moving stuff this week and
were thinking about having a little get to-
gether this weekend.” They stepped into the
line in front of the time clock. “You’re invited
of course.”
“Of course,” Maria winked. “I’ll bring some
enchiladas.”
Keisha’s mouth watered at the mere idea.
Maria’s enchiladas were like crack in a tor-
tilla. “I was gonna make a cake.”
Maria’s eyes widened. “Don’t burn down the
house before you can even enjoy it!”
Keisha laughed. “I’m not that bad a
cook!” If you didn’t count the time she made
a cherry pie that was delicious except for the
fact that she didn’t realize she’d left the pits
inside. And the quiche that ended up like an
egg balloon. And then there was the time
she’d almost burned down the apartment
when she was making macaroni…
42/165
“Maybe I’ll just grab one from Food Lion,”
she said peevishly.
Maria clapped her on the shoulder. “Good
c-”
“Keisha?” Carmen erupted beside them. Her
manager’s voice seemed especially irritated.
“Can I see you in the office?”
Keisha smoothed the front of her
frock, pivoting and seeing the annoyed set of
Carmen’s jaw. Great. What was she gonna
complain about today?
“I’ll clock you in,” Maria whispered.
Keisha walked toward the dreaded of-
fice, knowing that Carmen only allowed the
maids inside if she gonna chew them out.
She repeated, ‘Two more weeks, two more
weeks’ over and over, praying for the
strength to not run off at the mouth. She had
to hold her peace.
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Carmen held open the door and she
scanned the cluttered room, thinking silently
that one would think the office of someone
working in the cleaning industry would look
a little less like a tornado had ravaged it.
There was only one chair that wasn’t covered
to the brim with papers and cleaning
products that obviously didn’t get any use.
The surfaces that weren’t filled with rubbish
had a chalky sheen of dust.
Keisha stood awkwardly near the desk
as Carmen closed the door. She gestured at
the lone chair. “Have a seat.”
Keisha scooped up some of the paper-
work and put it in her lap, sitting ramrod
straight as Carmen sauntered to her desk
and sat down. Carmen stared at her, her
ebony face blank and unreadable.
Keisha cleared her throat uncomfortably.
“What is this about?”
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Carmen tucked a dark strand behind her ear.
“It’s about your unprofessional behavior.”
Keisha frowned. “Beg your pardon?”
Carmen didn’t flinch. “I’m aware that you
have begun a, uh, relationship with Senator
Cunningham.”
Something about the way she said ‘re-
lationship’ ruffled Keisha’s feather. She
turned the word into something synonymous
with dirty. Illicit. “I’m dating him, yes.”
“Dating, huh?” Carmen said with a
sneer.
Keisha felt her voice rising. “Is that so
hard to believe?”
“That a politician would-” She made
quotation marks with her slender fingers. “-
date a maid?” She shrugged. “No one’s about
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to yell, ‘Cut!’. This isn’t a movie. You have to
understand my skepticism, sweetheart.”
“Not really,” Keisha snapped.
“Look, your sex life is none of my business-”
“You’ve got that right,” Keisha fired, moving
to the edge of her seat.
Something in her eyes told Keisha
that no one ever went to bat against her. She
was used to wielding her authority like a
whip. But Keisha wouldn’t allow her to run
her through the mud just so she could feel
superior.
Carmen’s lips curdled. “As I was say-
ing, your personal life is your personal life
and none of my business, but the way you
project Winterhorn Inn and Suites is.”
Keisha let out a chuckle. This should
be good. She never saw Jake while she was
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on the clock and always made sure she was
in her civilian clothes, not her Winterhorn
uniform.
“I’ve talked to the board and they
agree that what you’re doing is highly
inappropriate.”
Keisha squared her jaw. “I’m not six-
teen years old, Carmen. How I spend my
time off the clock is my concern. Not yours,
and certainly not the board’s.”
“Just because you’re-” There was
those quotation marks again. “-dating above
your station doesn’t mean you can get famili-
ar with me. You will address me as Mrs.
Jackson, not Carmen.”
“Fine,” Keisha clipped. “What are you
gonna do, write me up,” She paused. “Mrs.
Jackson?”
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Carmen’s nostrils flared. “If we find
that you and your son take up residence at
our hotel, disciplinary action will be taken.”
Keisha gave her a sly grin. She
couldn’t believe she’d once been intimidated
by this woman. She saw her manager for
what she was, a petulant child that got off by
bullying others and putting people down. “Is
that right?”
“This is no joking matter, Miss Wallace.”
“Let me save you the trouble,” Keisha said
with faux gentleness. “We can go ahead and
consider this my two weeks notice.”
Carmen’s mouth started working, but no
words came out. She leaned forward. “Y-
You’re quitting?”
“I am.”
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She gaped for one more minute then collec-
ted herself. “No.”
Keisha furrowed her brow. “What do you
mean, no?”
Carmen slid back from her desk and stood
tall. “I think it’s best if we sever ties.”
“Sever ties?” Keisha repeated incredulously.
“You’re firing me?”
Carmen nodded.
“On what grounds?”
“Where to begin?” Carmen said with a cruel
laugh. “Your incessant time off-”
“That was when my kid was sick!”
“Your
insubordination
with
the
headphones-”
“After you gave the warning, I stopped!”
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“And a general lack of work quality.”
Keisha snapped to her feet, her chair
toppling to the floor. She wouldn’t get her
scholarship check for another week at least.
It was why she was giving notice and not
quitting out right. “You can’t do this!”
“I
already
have,”
Carmen
said
brusquely. She strode from her desk and
opened her door. “Once you turn in your uni-
form, your last check will be mailed to you.”
Keisha was flabbergasted. It wasn’t
fair. For the past two years she’d been a great
employee. Just because Carmen had some
sort of vendetta, just like that, her resigna-
tion had become a termination.
When she saw Monique hovering out-
side the door, a mischievous grin painted on
her face, Keisha lost it. Fury blinded her and
all she wanted to do was whoop somebody’s
ass.
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She bounded toward her, knocking
her back into the locker. Monique let out a
squeal but recovered quickly as she flipped
over on her side and pounced on Keisha,
socking her in the jaw. The thwok added to
the commotion in the locker room as the
maids gathered around, egging on the brawl
with delight.
Keisha tasted blood and she let out a
grunt as she bucked Monique from on top
and took the girl by her cheap tracks and
planted her face into the bench. She did it
again and again, then pulled her back, strad-
dling her as she punched, jabbing her left
and right through tears of anger and
frustration.
“I’m calling the police!” Carmen
screeched over the ruckus. “I’m calling the
police!”
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Chapter Four
Jake
Jake kept glancing at his phone, every
second, every mile not coming soon enough.
He heard Keisha’s voice ringing in his
ears—strong, defiant, until the end when she
had to come clean about the incident at
work.
Apparently, when she gave notice, her
manager decided to one up and fire her in-
stead. Monique had been waiting just out-
side, waiting to gloat and Keisha lost it, body
slamming her. Before Jake could delight in
the horrible woman getting exactly what she
deserved, he realized that the reason Raven
had told him to brace himself was because
Keisha had been arrested.
Carla, Keisha’s flighty mother, had
been gracious when Jake called her and ap-
prised her of the situation. It had been a feat
to not chew her out when she didn’t even
bother asking how her daughter was doing.
The Escalade turned on Main Street
and Jake gazed out the window. Mauryville
had a certain small town charm, a homey
feeling that DC lacked. A woman pushing a
stroller took him out of the moment and he
imagined Keisha in a flowing skirt that
swished around her ankles, her dark arms
bare and soft as silk as she glittered beneath
the street lamps. He was beside her, joking
as they talked about nothing and everything.
She was safe, happy. He was happy.
“Senator?”
Jake snapped from his daydream, glancing
over at Raven, who sat across from him, her
fair features scrunched in concern.
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“Are you okay?”
Jake gave her a curt nod, settling back. His
daydream would have to wait. For now, they
were going to bail her out of jail.
He peered out the tinted window in
confusion. The firefly quaint of the down-
town street was replaced by cold, dark walls.
They were in an alley, the SUV parked and
humming beside a dumpster. “Where the
hell are we?”
“I contacted the station and expressed
our need for…sensitivity,” Raven explained.
“They’ve already processed Keisha’s release
and she should be coming out the back door
any minute now.”
Jake felt the smile at his lips as he
looked at his former intern, all grown up.
He’d just been concerned with getting Keisha
out of there that he hadn’t even thought
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about asking for the station to be discreet.
“Good work, Raven.”
She turned away, her cheeks rosy red.
“I, um-” She cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
Jake clicked his seat belt, pushing out
of the car. Raven joined him, shivering as she
pulled her cardigan tight around her. Jake
couldn’t feel the cold. He felt nothing except
the thunder of his heart as he stood rapt,
waiting to see her.
When the door swung open and a wo-
man in a uniform came out and talked to
Raven for a moment and got her to sign pa-
perwork, Jake tore past her, bounding up the
stairs that led up to the station’s back door.
Keisha stepped over the threshold,
her face hard and empty ‘til she saw him.
When their eyes met, the world stopped. She
stood frozen on the fire escape, her lips par-
ted as she said one word—Jake.
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He scooped her in his arms and she
crumbled, her whole body wracked with sobs
as she clutched him like her life depended on
it.
He
stroked
her,
whispering
that
everything was okay now. Everything was
okay. He was there. He would always be
there.
As he led Keisha down the stairwell to
the car, he heard Raven talking about the car
and the press, probably trying to get them
out of sight before they were spotted, but
Jake stayed where he was needed, where it
mattered. He breathed in the vanilla,
coconut smell of Keisha’s hair, the caress of
her skin as she sunk into his bones, her head
against his chest as her sobs tapered off to
sniffles.
She pulled back, swiping at her eyes. “C-
Caleb?”
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“He’s fine,” Jake answered. “Your mother
has him.”
“I’m sure I’ll hear all about how inconveni-
enced she was.”
Jake tilted her chin upward and
kissed her, finally relaxing when he felt her
lips pressed against his. “Don’t your worry
about your mom. You worry about you right
now.”
She ran a hand through her short
hair. “I am so sorry you had to deal with this,
Jake. I just know Winterhorn is going to
press charges and it’s not going to do your
campaign any favors-”
He shushed her as he opened the rear
door to the Escalade. “Let’s just head back to
the-”
His words hung in the air as a sedan
came barreling down the alley, the shine of
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the headlights blinding him. Son of a bitch.
He’d bet his bottom dollar that some loose
lipped civil servant had called a reporter. But
when the car blocked the exit and the driver
door opened and shut and a shadowed figure
stalked toward them, he noticed a familiar
shamble. It was his father.
Raven was the first to speak. “Mr.
Cunningham, I-”
His father completely ignored her, in-
stead turning his attention to Jake. Even in
the dark he could see the fury shining on his
face. He gripped Jake’s elbow, yanking him
from Keisha. For the slightest moment, Jake
was too surprised to even respond.
Keisha’s gasp shook him to action and he
ripped away. “Don’t you put your hands on
me!”
Conrad scoffed, but didn’t move to grab him
again. “This is rich. Real smart, Jake.”
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Raven tried again. “Mr. Cunningham-”
“Are you still here?” he snapped, look-
ing at her like she was a cockroach scurrying
across the kitchen floor. He didn’t wait for a
response. He lowered his voice. “Take the
girl and get her out of here.”
Raven opened her mouth to protest
but hung her head instead, conceding. She
took a step toward Keisha, but Jake gripped
Keisha’s hand, interlacing his fingers with
hers. “We have this under control. Why don’t
you get out of here, Dad?”
“Please,” Conrad said indignantly.
“This could have crucified you, Jake. Luckily
for you, my contacts at Newscorp were the
first to stumble onto this and have given us
time for damage control.” He turned back to
Raven. “So you take the girl and-”
“She has a name!” Jake thundered.
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“Jake,” Keisha said quietly. “It’s
okay.” She stepped toward Raven. “Maybe
you and I should go.”
But it wasn’t okay. His father started
off disrespecting him, then he disrespected
Raven. He’d finished off with disrespecting
Keisha. Jake wasn’t gonna stand for it.
“You’re going to respect Keisha, Dad.”
Conrad ran a hand through his gray
hair, clearly fighting to maintain his compos-
ure. “How’s this? ‘Hi! I’ve heard such great
things about you—pissing away a full-ride to
one of the most prestigious universities in
the world, having a child out of wedlock, and
ruining my son’s campaign with your ghetto
brawl!’”
“Dad-”
Keisha
stepped
forward,
her
shoulders squared. “I’m aware that my ac-
tions have consequences, Mr. Cunningham.
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And I hate that Jake may be drug through
the mud because of this.”
“My dear,” Conrad said snidely. “That
ship sailed the moment he met you.”
Jake saw red as he lurched forward
and slammed his fist into his father’s jaw.
The sound echoed around them like a
gunshot.
He shook out his hand as it spasmed
in pain. He expected his dad to come back at
him. He could see the headlines now. But
when Conrad stood up straight, he just held
his jaw gingerly, his eyes round with all the
surprise and shock that hung on the night
air.
“Well,” he said finally, breaking the
awkward silence. His gravelly voice wavered
as he tightened his blazer and collected him-
self. “Apparently, I’m not needed.”
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Jake was about to affirm his observa-
tion when Keisha pushed forward. Her voice
was impossibly gentle, even kind as she
touched Conrad’s forearm, stopping him.
“Are you okay, Mr. Cunningham?”
Conrad was confounded, but not
nearly to the extend Jake was. Why was she
asking the bastard if he was okay? He’d been
nothing but rude to her!
He could tell a similar question was
on Conrad’s mind, but he just staggered
backward. “I’m fine.” He coughed a bit and
did a bizarre bow thing before he turned to-
ward his car and slid back behind the
driver’s wheel without another word.
The three of them watched him re-
verse out of the alley, his tires squealing as
he peeled back onto Main Street.
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Raven let out a heavy sigh then turned
back to the Escalade. “Senator-”
Jake nodded, still looking at Keisha,
trying to read her and put two and two to-
gether. As he filed into the backseat beside
her and the car rattled to motion, he sent
Raven a silent bout of gratitude as she eased
in the front passenger seat and pulled out
her cell, giving them a degree of privacy.
He slid over closer to Keisha and
stroked her hand. She didn’t respond to his
touch, just looking straight ahead. She was
probably frustrated about his father’s atti-
tude. That had to be it.
“I’m sorry about my dad,” Jake offered.
She pulled from him finally, snapping back
to life. “I know exactly who your father
is—what’s your excuse?”
Wait—she was pissed at him?
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“I don’t get it, Keisha. He disrespected you. I
had to show him that wasn’t acceptable.”
She scoffed. “Whatever’s going on
between you and your dad has been brewing
since long before I was in the picture, Jake.”
She pulled her sweater tight, like she got a
chill. “I still can’t believe you punched your
father. What did it prove? What did it
change?”
She glanced over at him. “When I beat
the shit out of Monique, it felt nice. For a few
seconds.”
“Well I’m sure when the cops showed
up it changed the tempo.”
“That isn’t it,” she said, shaking her
head. “Monique was trying to show me
something. That she had power over me. Me
getting into it with her just proved her right.
You punching your dad to defend my honor?
It just proved that you have a mean right
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hook.” She turned her attention to the win-
dow. “And it proved that he has power over
you. It didn’t make anything better. It wasn’t
justice. Violence doesn’t change anything.”
Jake knew all Keisha was just trying
to help him see that losing his cool just made
things worse, but it was the wrong time for
him to digest it. He didn’t want to accept it.
His stomach made an angry growl. “You
hungry?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Hey
Joe? Can you stop at a drive thru on the way
to Winterhorn? I’m starving.”
“Actually Joe,” Keisha piped, her fo-
cus still outside the window. “Before you get
Senator Cunningham’s dinner, can you stop
by Mauryville Heights?”
“Mauryville Heights?” Jake repeated.
“I thought we could spend the evening
together.”
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“I just want to see my son, Jake. I
just…”
The sob that rose in her throat
punched Jake in the gut. It was more painful
that the thought of her in jail, more painful
than watching his father treat her like shit,
more painful than anything. She was hurt-
ing—and he wasn’t what she needed.
He wanted to hold her, change her mind. But
he didn’t.
“So where to, boss?” Joe asked over his
shoulder as they sat at a crossroads.
“You heard her,” Jake said. “Take Keisha
home.”
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Chapter Five
Keisha
"You've really done it now." Keisha's
mother had been at it all morning, laying out
the intricacies of her fuck up. "I mean,
really—didn’t I raise you better?"
Keisha plunked the baby monitor on
the counter and yawned, trudging to the
fridge. "Yeah, Ma. Sure."
"Fighting at work, getting arrested,"
Carla flicked her bic and lit her cigarette, tak-
ing a long drag and exhaling before she con-
tinued. "Thank god Jake was there to help
you take care of it."
Keisha tuned her out as she pulled out
a jug of OJ. She moved toward the cabinet
for a cup, but just shrugged and popped of
the top and threw it back.
Thank god was right. When she'd
been booked downtown, she knew that her
phone call would have been wasted on her
mother. After scolding her for a good ten
minutes, she would have told her she was up
shit creek. Calling Jake wasn't much easier.
She'd tried to be hard and stoic as her
co-worker watched in horror as she was
handcuffed and led out the lobby and into
the backseat of a cruiser. She'd kept it to-
gether as they booked her, taking her finger-
prints, her picture. She'd even put on a brave
face when the bars slammed shut behind her
and the smell of the cell made bile rise in her
throat.
But when she plucked Jake's cell and
heard his baritone voice on the other end,
she lost it. Somehow between the sobs, he
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discerned what happened. He rode in on his
white horse and saved the day. Until he
punched his father.
All the while when she was busy try-
ing to ignore sheisty women that tried to
provoke her into fights, thinking about
Maria’s sad eyes as they led her out—she’d
held onto the thought of seeing Jake. It kept
her from losing it. But their reunion car ride,
reunion sex had withered to nothing when
he’d socked Conrad in the jaw.
She knew he thought she was mad
that he'd hit his father, but it was so much
more than that. She was in the shit because
she'd let her emotions get the best of her. It
was one of her faults. Growing up in The
Heights, she learned that girls who knocked
people the fuck out and asked questions later
earned respect. But she didn't want a legacy
of violence for Caleb. She wanted more for
him. And when she saw Jake, the guy who
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was supposed to be the personification of
better things, raising his hand to solve his
problems, it’d devastated her.
She gulped down the OJ and recapped
it, turning to the stove. "I'm making oatmeal,
Ma. You want some?"
Her mother shook her head. "Am I
talking to myself, Keisha? It's about so much
more than you getting locked up. I had plans
last night. Plans that got canceled."
Jesus Christ. "What do you want me
to say? I've apologized. Effusively. Do you
want me to whip out my trusty time ma-
chine? Rewind it back 24 hours?”
“Keisha-“
“Or maybe I should rewind it back 23
years."
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There it was. The truth that lurked be-
neath the surface. The thing that cut Keisha
every time her mother looked at her with so
much disdain that she felt it in her soul.
Carla sat still as stone, her mouth
open, her cigarette hovering in the air. So-
mething flashed across her face. Guilt?
Shame?
A spark of hope burned in Keisha's
belly. Maybe she would finally hear her
mother say the words. That she loved her.
That she wasn't a disappointment. That she
wasn't a mistake.
But she just shook back to life, taking
a final puff before she dropped the butt in
her coffee mug. "I don't have to sit here and
take this." She stalked to the living room and
swiped her jacket and keys, leaving the
apartment without another word. She closed
the door with a thud, and that was that.
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Keisha slammed her fists on the
counter, the sting of pain dulling the tears
that burned her eyes. How did things get so
messed up? How did they get to the point
where it was easier for her mother to leave
than to talk to her?
She walked robotically to the stove
with her pot of water. She reached for the
salt and put a dash in before turning on the
burner. She stared into the water, making a
promise. Even if Caleb made decisions that
changed his whole, decisions she didn't agree
with, she'd never let him feel this emptiness.
She'd make sure he knew that no matter
what, he'd have a proud mother that loved
him more than life.
She heard a flurry of taps on the door
and she dabbed her eyes with a napkin be-
fore going to answer it. When she looked in
the peephole and saw Jake staring back at
her, she paused. A part of her was happy to
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see him, ecstatic even. Another part was still
hurt and angry about everything that
happened and how he’d handled the situ-
ation. She pressed her hand on the
weathered wood door, not knowing what to
do.
He must have felt it. "Keisha, please
talk to me."
She flipped the lock and pulled the
door open. He was in a black button down
shirt and jeans, shades perched on the top of
his head. Casual looked good on him.
"So I came here to apologize."
“Oh?”
He nodded. “I shouldn’t have hit my
dad.” He leaned forward on the door jam.
“You were right about the issues between the
two of us, but I have to find a better way to
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figure all that out. You needed me last
night—and I just made it-”
Keisha pulled him inside and closed
the door, reaching around to lock it before
she pushed him back against it, covering his
apology with her mouth. Right this moment,
she didn't need words. She needed him to
show her how sorry he was with his body.
She wanted him to make love to her.
She pulled her t-shirt up and over her
body, fumbling with his pants. He shed his
shirt and she led him to the couch. His hands
roamed her bare body, caressing her curves
as he pulled her to him, his erect cock press-
ing against her, promising things she
couldn't wait to fulfill.
She was the aggressor, shoving him
down into the cushion. The warmth between
her thighs yearned for him, needed him as
much as the sun, oxygen, life.
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She straddled him, staring deep into
his sea blue eyes. "I need you. I need us to be
okay."
"I love you," he said softly. "I love you
Keisha, and I'm so sorry."
She held fast to his words as she
lowered herself on him. He sheathed himself
in her and every inch sent a new wave of eu-
phoria through her. She clasped to him as
she slowly rode him, swirling her hips, float-
ing on the tune of his moans. He needed this,
needed her, loved her--she felt it in the way
he held her waist as he bathed his whole
length inside her, laying claim. As their bod-
ies moved together, everything else faded
away.
"I love you," she said thickly, her
mouth on his neck. "God, it feels so good.
Don't stop, Jake. Don't stop!"
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She let out a gasp of surprise as he
gripped her and lifted from the couch, his
cock never leaving her. She felt him bend his
knees, his handsome face contorted in pas-
sion as she hopped on his cock, getting a
whole new sensation from the position. He
was standing, she in his arms, his strong fin-
gers gripping her ass as she rode him. She
was so close to bliss that she felt its tingle
rippling over her body. When he let out a
moan of elation, she gave in and felt the
spasms that milked her lover, taking all of
him in.
They sunk back onto the couch and it
hit her. That was the first time they'd said it
out loud. It almost seemed ludicrous, since a
part of her loved him since the moment they
met, but this was the only time they put that
love to words.
When she glanced over at him, his
cheeks burned hot. He picked up on the
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gravity of it. "I-I meant it, what I said. I do
love you, Keisha."
She closed her eyes, savoring the
three words. "I love you too Jake." She
leaned in to kiss him and her eyes popped
open as the baby monitor screeched to life.
Caleb was awake.
She swiped her t-shirt. "You have anything
planned?"
"I was thinking maybe the three of us could
grab some lunch then do a little shopping for
the house."
Keisha grinned. "Sounds perfect."
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Chapter Six
Jake
Jake tossed Keisha the umpteenth
apologetic smile of the morning. He’d had
their day planned to a T, cooking Keisha a
nice breakfast and had planned a day of
spoiling her, wanting her to spend her day
distressing at the spa. He’d even snuck out of
bed and grabbed a bottle for Caleb before
Keisha stirred. The little one must have felt
something in the force because no sooner
than he’d finished his bottle had the door
come alive with a series of taps far too ag-
gressive for Raven. It was his mother, fresh
off a flight from London. Here to save the
day. And now they were all sitting around
the table, trying to ignore the elephant in the
room.
Barbara turned up her aristocratic
nose as she sipped coffee from her porcelain
mug. “Your father is just a wreck about what
happened between the two of you, Jake. Just
a wreck.”
“Is he now?”
She nodded, her perfectly trimmed
gray locks spilling forward before she tucked
them behind her ear. “You know how he gets
when you two are at odds. It’s not good for
business. Or his blood pressure.”
Jake slid from the table. He needed
some distance from the Guilt Trip to Rule All
Guilt Trips. “I’ve already apologized to Dad.”
Partially
true.
He’d
sent
an
email—and only after Keisha insisted that
the only way she’d get a remotely fair shake
with his family was if they didn’t equate her
with violence.
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He pulled Caleb up from his playpen,
the handsome tot grinning up with him with
adoration. He did a spin, making faces at
him.
“Yes, well,” Barbara sniffed as she
watched him with Caleb, bouncing him up
and down until he squealed with glee.
When he glanced over at his mother,
for the smallest moment, he thought he saw
a flicker of happiness. Was she seeing past all
her hang ups and worries about keeping up
appearances? Did she see how happy Keisha
and Caleb made him?
“You know, you were always so good
with children,” she said quietly.
Keisha leaned forward, pulling her
robe tighter around her. “Caleb’s just crazy
about him.” Jake’s heart thumped in his
throat when she winked at him. “Almost as
crazy as I am.”
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Barbara let out a snort that was caulked full
of contempt. “Crazy is right.”
“Mom,” Jake said with warning in his voice.
Keisha gave him a look that made him snap
his mouth closed. “I want to hear what she
has to say, Jake.”
He held Caleb to his chest and moved
back to the table, hoping the ‘behave’ vibes
he was trying to send to his mother were
coming through loud and clear.
“You seem like a nice girl, dear,” Bar-
bara said cryptically. Her soft features took
on an edge as she leaned forward. “But this-”
She made a gesture from Jake to Keisha.
“Whatever this is, it’s gonna have bigger con-
sequences
than
causing
undue
stress
between Jake and his father.”
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Jake’s eyes flashed but he took a page from
Keisha, trying, desperately to keep his cool.
“Like what, mother?”
“Jake’s career for one,” she said, not missing
a beat. “All the work he’s done, work to help
your people-”
“My people?” Keisha cut in incredulously.
“Blacks,” Barbara clarified. “Working
class people. If Marshal wins, you can count
on all the progress and programs Jake has
instated biting the dust.”
“I see,” Keisha said measuredly. “So I
hold the entire hope of my race in the palm
of my hands.” She took a long sip from her
mug and gave Jake a long look. “Well that
settles it, Jake. I have to end things. For the
sake of my people.”
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Barbara yanked her napkin from her
lap and pushed from the table. “Neither of
you are taking me seriously.”
As she moved to sashay past Jake,
Caleb’s tiny hand jetted out and grazed her
collar. She froze, her surprise melting to ooey
goeyness. She turned to the little one and
made a face, blowing her cheeks to twice
their size. It was obvious that she wasn’t im-
mune to his charms.
“Such a handsome boy,” she mused. She
grazed his cheek. “And from his coloring,
mixed?”
“Yes.”
“And out of the picture?”
Jake tried to capture Keisha’s gaze,
wanting to give her a little of his strength. He
knew that her ex, Caleb’s father Holden, was
a sore subject for her. The schmuck had
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really done a number on her. In every hesita-
tion, Jake saw him building her up, claiming
he loved her—just to knock her down. Repla-
cing and forgetting Keisha had been as easy
as breathing.
But Keisha’s dark eyes didn’t falter as
she answered. “He wanted nothing to do
with me or Caleb. He wasn’t a very good per-
son in the end.”
“What a shame,” Barbara mused. She
gave Jake’s shoulder a squeeze before she
turned the ice back on, putting some dis-
tance between them. “I always taught Jake to
do right by his obligations.” Jake groaned as
she brought it back around to her greater
point. “Jake made a promise to the people of
North Carolina, Keisha. He has an obligation
to not destroy all the work he’s done thus
far.” She straightened her spine. “You can al-
ways find another boyfriend, but there’s only
one Senator Cunningham.”
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That was it. Jake put Caleb back in the
playpen and whirled to face her. “In spite of
what you, Dad, and Marshal seem to think,
my personal life is just that—personal. It’s
not you, or anyone else’s business.”
“Don’t be juvenile,” Barbara scoffed. “You’re
a public figure. There’s no such thing as ‘per-
sonal life’.”
“Look-”
“She has a point, Jake,” Keisha interrupted.
Jake turned to her in surprise. He
thought he’d made himself perfectly clear.
He was in this for the long haul. He wouldn’t
cower or hide their relationship. Not for his
father. Not for his mother. Not for anyone.
Keisha pressed on. “My altercation at
Winterhorn didn’t do your public image any
favors.” She crossed her arms tight across
her chest as she rose and addressed Barbara.
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“I know that dating your son will take certain
considerations and sacrifices, but I am dat-
ing your son. That fact is not up for debate.”
Jake felt the smile spread across his
face as he took in his mother’s face, turning
cotton candy pink. She was Barbara Cun-
ningham. Not getting her way was foreign to
her.
And Keisha wasn’t done. “I have to
admit—I am out of my element. If you have
any advice or counsel as far as navigating
and making this work for everyone, I’m all
ears.”
Jake knew his mother well enough to
know that the saccharine sweet smile on her
face was hiding the fact that the only real ad-
vice she wanted to give was to end it all.
“W-Well, I…” She let out an uncom-
fortable chuckle and clutched her Louis Vuit-
ton as she strode toward the double doors
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that separated the suite from the day room.
“Could I speak to you for a moment, Jake?”
He glanced at Keisha.
“Go ahead,” she said with a nod. “I’m fine.”
Barbara paused at the door, then turned
back to Keisha, flashing another phony
smile. “It was a pleasure, Keisha.”
Jake swallowed a laugh when he saw that
Keisha plastered on her own faux grin, giv-
ing as good as she got. “Likewise.”
The day room was eerily quiet, Raven
typing away on her laptop. Barbara didn’t
even look at her. In her world, the people
that worked for them were just furniture.
Moveable. Replaceable.
“Give us a minute,” she barked at her.
“Yes ma’am,” Raven said obediently, quickly
moving out of the room.
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"So back to what I was-"
Jake brushed past her, following Raven into
the hall.
Raven spun around, her face filled with sur-
prise. Her olive eyes scanned him. "Did you
need some coffee?"
When he saw the deer in headlights
expression on her face, guilt blindsided him.
While she'd been an intern under Roman,
Raven wasn't some co-ed lackey, though Ro-
man, his parents, and even Jake treated her
as such. She'd graduated top of her class
from Duke University. She'd headed several
local campaigns, all with landside victories.
She'd put up with Roman's diva behavior,
the Trixie incident, and even Keisha's arrest
with poise and control.
He took a step toward her and put his
hand on her shoulder. When she gave him a
88/165
confused look, he knew what was coming
next was even more vital.
"I just want you to know that you're
doing a helluva job, Raven."
Her mouth quivered and she cleared
her throat as she gave him a smile that lit up
her whole face. "Really?"
"An excellent job," Jake confirmed.
He lowered his voice. "My father may take a
more, hands-on approach to the campaign.
Please don't believe it is due to some sort of
incompetence on your part, because you're
anything but."
She turned from him, swiping her
eyes. Her back shuddered. Dear lord, she
was crying.
"You okay?" Jake asked gently.
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She smoothed the front of her suit
and collected herself before turning back to
face him. Her eyes were red, but no more
tears fell. "I am." She gave him a pensive
look. "It's nice to know my work doesn't go
unnoticed." She pointed toward the elevator.
"So, uh, coffee?"
"I'm fine."
"And your mother?"
"She has two legs that work just fine."
"Yes sir," Raven smirked. "I'll be back in a
bit.
He pivoted on his heels and pushed
back into the suite. His mother was pacing
back and forth, murmuring to herself. He
knew her coping mechanisms well. She'd
worn out the carpet in a similar fashion
when he'd come home and said he wanted to
major in sociology. And when he brought his
90/165
first serious girlfriend home and her name
was Jade and she wasn't white, blonde hair,
blue eyed and affluent. Oh and when he'd
told her about Trixie.
She slowed when she saw him, shak-
ing her head as she clucked her tongue. "You
do know how to get my attention."
He had to breathe in and out, find his
chi or whatever. "Despite what you may
think, mother, this isn't some adolescent
temper tantrum." He walked to her, stopping
her circuit, holding her steady. "This time is
different."
"Oh really?" she scoffed. "Isn't that
what you said with Trixie?"
"I loved her, yes. But that's where the
similarities stop." He released her, turning to
the closed door. The quiet allowed him to
hear Keisha's voice filtering through as she
91/165
talked to Caleb. He knew that he wanted to
hear that voice forever.
"How is it different?"
"She's
strong.
Stronger
than
me,
sometimes."
"That's why you had to bail her out of jail?"
"I know this may be hard to believe,
but everything's not about money," he said,
nostrils flaring. "And I know the relationship
that you and Dad have so this may even be
impossible for you to understand."
"Try me."
He remembered when he first met
her, standing up to the rich schmuck in the
hotel bar. He thought about when she'd first
told him about Caleb and promptly told him
to screw himself when she thought he'd had
a problem with her son. He went back to her
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confrontation when she stood up to Roman,
laying it all out.
"She's a fighter, Mom. It would be
easier for her to walk away, to walk away
from us, from her education, from her re-
sponsibilities. But she fights tooth and nail
every day. And I love her." He gave her
shoulder a squeeze. "And if you can't accept
that, I really don't have anything else to say."
She threw her hands up and let out a sigh of
consternation. “You’re so stubborn. Just like
your father.”
Jake gave her a sad smile. “She’s really
amazing, once you get to know her.”
Barbara cleared her throat, glancing at her
watch. “Uh huh. Well, uh, look at the time! I
really must be going.”
He watched his mother scurry away,
probably off to drink her sorrows, chased
93/165
with her antidepressants. He wished there
was a way to really make her understand.
That love, true love, what he and Keisha had,
was worth fighting for.
With a sigh, he collected himself and walked
toward the kitchenette, opening the door.
Keisha looked up, her ebony eyes narrowing
with concern. "Everything okay?"
He moved to her side and planted a kiss on
her forehead then one on the crown of
Caleb's head. "Everything's perfect."
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Chapter Seven
Keisha
Keisha pumped up the volume of her
Ipod. The lyrical notes that poured through
her speakers made her swing her hips from
left to right. She grabbed two of Caleb's mini-
ature hands and made faces that made him
gurgle with laughter.
She had a reason to be happy--even
after the speed bump of all the drama at
Winterhorn, being arrested, Jake’s confront-
ation with his father, and meeting Jake’s
mother, Barbara, things were starting to look
up. Monique had shockingly decided against
pressing charges and Winterhorn just
wanted to pretend it had never happened.
And even though Jake's parents were less
than thrilled that the three of them were
moving in together, it was happening. She
was building a life. Building a future.
Maria was helping her load up the kit-
chenware. "Your madre? Why isn't she help-
ing again?"
Keisha let out a groan. She too had
been surprised that her mother wasn't up
with bells and whistles in tow. It’d almost
seemed like Carla should be most excited
about she and Caleb moving out. Consider-
ing she'd raised so much hell about Keisha
leaving Harvard and moving back to
Mauryville in the first place, she’d almost ex-
pected her to throw a going away party.
Her mother was finally getting what
she wanted. Keisha and her bastard child
were moving out of her house, Keisha was
going back to school fulltime, and she even
landed a rich guy. She was always
96/165
complaining about how babysitting and hav-
ing them around cramped her style and
stressed her out and how Keisha just wasted
her brains. She should be celebrating, help-
ing them get out as quickly as possible. But
she'd been ghost when Keisha woke up.
Keisha reached the point where she saw it as
a blessing in disguise. Bright, positive,
drama-free. It was her new motto.
“I just figured she’d want to be a part of this.
Happy about it even,” Maria said with a face.
"Don't know." Keisha shrugged, wrapping a
few plates in bubble wrap. "Don't really
care."
Maria gave her a small nod with her
signature toothy grin that melted away the
remnants of worry that tickled Keisha's
mind. While she definitely wouldn't miss
working at Winterhorn, she would miss
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seeing her friend on a daily basis. "I'm really
gonna miss you, Maria."
Her friend turned to her, deep brown
eyes glittering with tears. Before a single one
fell, she turned back to loading utensils. "No
tears." She said it loud, a tough command,
but Keisha had a feeling it was more to her-
self than anything else. "This is your new
start." She tilted her head in Keisha's direc-
tion and after a deep breath, raised her gaze.
Keisha's heart broke a little when she saw the
crystal streams on Maria's cheeks. "You've
worked so hard, mija. You deserve this hap-
piness. Every ounce of it."
Not crying was no longer an option.
Keisha let the sky open and the rain came
down as she embraced her dearest friend. It
was Maria who kept her lifted when she had
no idea how she'd juggle school, work, and
Caleb. It was Maria who always had a
shoulder she could lean on. It was Maria who
98/165
opened her doors, even though she had
problems of her own.
Keisha hugged her tight. "I'll be just
outside the city limits. If you ever need any-
thing, anything at all."
Maria turned back to the boxes, let-
ting out a bitter chuckle. "Is it okay if Ana
comes and lives with you?"
Ana was Maria's sixteen year old
daughter. Eight months pregnant and
treated her mother like her servant. Maria
was working herself to the bone to make
their finite resources stretch even further
and from what Maria shared, Ana acted like
her mother should be grateful for the
privilege.
Keisha gave Maria's shoulder a sup-
portive squeeze. "Things haven't gotten any
better?"
99/165
"I've stopped calling on the Virgin
Mother to keep me from strangling the life
out of her," Maria joked sadly. She exhaled
as she grabbed a bit of tape and secured a
box. "I wish she would just understand that
it's really happening. That her nino isn't
gonna pop out and then she can just go back
to business as usual."
Keisha leaned over to Caleb, stroking
his mess of golden-brown curls. She had to
admit, she didn't fully get it when she'd de-
cided to keep him and go through with the
pregnancy. At first, she'd believed that she
could just go to class as usual. I mean, the
world was filled with working moms, right?
But the student health center just wasn't
equipped to handle pregnancy care, morning
sickness was an all-day affair that kept her
bedridden or clutching the toilet, and the
stress of trying to figure it all out made it im-
possible to maintain her grades and her
sanity.
100/165
She needed help, even the scrap of it
offered by her mother. She needed a moment
to breathe and regroup and figure out how
she was gonna do it all alone. But more than
anything, she needed a moment to digest the
fact that nothing would ever be the same.
She turned back to the task at hand,
stacking the dishes with care in the card-
board box. "It may take her a little bit, but
she'll get it, Maria."
"Hmm," Maria hummed. "Let's hope
it's sooner rather than later."
Keisha picked up the box with a grunt
and walked over to load it on the dolly. She
glanced at the TV, mostly on for background
noise and double took when she saw Jake's
face flash on the screen. His father’s flashed
next. He was giving some sort of interview
via satellite.
"Everything okay?" Maria asked.
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"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 Cun-
ningham, owner of Cunningham Invest-
ments and father of Senator Jake Cunning-
ham, the junior senator from North Carolina,
on the program tonight.” The screen split,
with one side dedicated to the newscaster,
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and another for Conrad. “As I understand,
you’re here with us to talk about the contro-
versy surrounding your son's bid for re-elec-
tion 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 conver-
sation 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 regard-
ing Senator Cunningham's romantic rela-
tionship with a local woman, a maid named
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Keisha Wallace who was employed at Win-
terhorn 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 im-
poverished 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 dif-
ficult to breathe, to think, to do anything
104/165
except listen to the father of the man she
loved drag her through the dirt.
"So I just wanted to clarify," the newscaster
cut in. "Your son is not dating Keisha
Wallace?"
"That's correct."
Keisha dug her nails into the arm of the
couch, anger replacing the shock. How could
he go on television and lie?
"Because she's a maid?" the newscaster
asked, baiting him.
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 sec-
retary 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
105/165
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 lob-
byists 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 con-
cerned. 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.
106/165
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, fi-
nally releasing Keisha. "She's right here." She
held out the phone. "It's Jake."
Keisha just looked at it, not moving. Not
ready.
"Mija, take the phone."
Keisha’s lips trembled and she heard the
tears in her voice as she finally spoke. “I-I
can’t. I don’t know what to do.”
Maria’s voice was gentle. “Well, you can start
by talking to him, Keisha. You two will figure
this out.”
107/165
The two of them? According to Con-
rad, 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 ex-
perienced 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 furi-
ous. "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."
108/165
"You know that's not true," he in-
sisted. "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. Try-
ing 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 ex-
hausted. "When are you coming home?"
She heard the smile in his voice. "I like the
sound of that. As soon as possible, baby. As
soon as possible."
"Make it sooner." She pulled the phone from
her ear and Maria took it from her, mum-
bling a goodbye.
Keisha pushed from the couch and went
back to loading the boxes, her limbs and
movements mechanical.
109/165
Maria's voice was soft. "We can take a
break-"
"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."
110/165
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 per-
sonally, 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 fal-
lout. 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 mak-
ing her dark eyes smolder and her brown
cheeks flush, he loved her, wanted her more
than ever.
112/165
"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 blas-
ted on. "Everything is ruined! How can we be
together now without contradicting his state-
ment? Without looking like your campaign
has gone awry?"
"Keisha-"
113/165
"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 for-
ward 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
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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
115/165
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 apolo-
gized, he'd racked his mind for a way to ex-
press to Keisha that everything was alright.
But words failed as he looked at her, stand-
ing 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.
116/165
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 car-
nal 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 state-
ment 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
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pulled her back in, his hands shooting down-
ward '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 abdo-
men, zeroing in on her core, desire glittering.
The lips of her were spread and ready for
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him. He steered his cock inside her, relishing
the thirsty smack she made as he pushed in-
to 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, bur-
rowing into her, each thrust taking him
closer to the nirvana that no one could take
away from them. He felt the pleasure radiat-
ing 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
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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.
He let go, leaping from the edge of the cliff
and falling into his own release, holding her
steady. Holding to the moment.
They sunk onto the carpeted floor, Keisha's
head on his shoulder.
"We're gonna be okay." After he said it, he
found that it sounded more like a question. A
prayer.
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."
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Chapter Nine
Keisha
Keisha stepped inside of Leroy's Gro-
cery, 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 stu-
pid. So hopeful. Her mother had whined
about everything that concerned Caleb, trail-
ing 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 pres-
sure. 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 spark-
ling white walls that she couldn't wait to
paint their story on. Vaulted ceiling, a fire-
place, 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.
Keisha pushed toward the produce,
shaking her head with quiet disgust. She
could still see her mother strewn out on the
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couch, beer cans littering the floor. Appar-
ently their heart to heart was thanks to Bud-
weiser. She was in no shape for a new start.
No shape for her grandson to see her in.
A string of gurgles from Caleb inter-
mixing with a voice talking about the day’s
sales shook Keisha from her anger and she
forced her attention to the list in front of her.
It would just be she and Caleb, so she just
wanted to hit the mainstays-veggies, chicken,
denali moose tracks.
She inspected a bag of romaine lettuce
and after being satisfied, stuffed it into her
canvas shopping bag. When she pushed past
a display of cheese and wine, heat flamed at
her cheeks.
Before Jake headed back to DC, they'd
tried a romantic dinner with all the fixings--
wine, steak, potatoes. But all the stress of the
move and Conrad's ballsy hard balling on
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national television had dominated the
evening's events and led to an argument.
That had in turn led to some particularly
steamy angry sex. The things they'd done on
the bed, the dining room table, the
floor...just the memory was enough to make
her mouth water.
She took a bundle of tomatoes and
lowered them onto a scale. As amazing as
their hookup had been, when her heart
stopped pounding and she was lying in his
arms, surrounded by cardboard boxes, living
the life she'd always wanted to with her baby
and the man she loved, reality crept back in.
Until Jake figured out how to undo the dam-
age his father had done, they had to keep
their love under wraps. No housewarming
parties. No walking together to the park a
few blocks down. No family shopping trips.
She swiped the tomatoes, giving a
genial looking older man a smile as he
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saddled up beside her, holding a bag of pro-
duce. He kind of hesitated, so she gave him a
small nod. “How are you?”
“Good. And you?”
“Doing well,” Keisha answered, with a polite
smile.
"Nice weather we've been having, huh?" the
man said brightly.
Keisha nodded. "It's been perfect. Not too
hot, not too cold." She turned to go, but the
man kept talking.
"You know where else is nice this time of
year?" he asked, moving closer. "Hawaii."
Keisha let out a snort. She had no
doubt. Warm sun, warm beach, pina coladas
with bright umbrellas. "Maybe so, but I sure
can't afford it."
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The man reached in his jacket, pulling
out an envelope. He handed it to her. When
she gave him a weird look, he responded
with an oversized, uncomfortable grin.
Keisha rolled her eyes subconsciously.
He was probably some religious nut job or
door to door marketer. She wasn’t in the
mood to hear about how Jesus could save
her soul from eternal damnation or listening
to some scam to get her money or
information.
But when she broke the seal, it wasn't a
pamphlet. It was a check, made out to her.
“W-what is this?”
“It’s a check,” the man said smoothly. “A
check made out to you, Miss Wallace.”
“Yes I know that, but-” Her voice
caught in her throat. How the hell did he
know her name? And why was he giving her
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a check? Her mouth fell open. The number
couldn't be right. It had to be a scam, be-
cause it was a check for one million dollars.
She held it up, her voice hoarse.
"What the hell is this?"
"A check."
"I know that," Keisha said unevenly.
"How do you know my name? Why are you
giving me a check for a million dollars?"
He folded his arms. "You seem like a
nice young lady, with a good head on your
shoulders." He gestured at Caleb. "And a
son. This money will make sure he has a
good
life.
Good
schools.
Good
neighborhoods-"
Keisha held up a hand, cutting him
off. "Why are you giving me a check? You
don't know me. I don't know you."
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The kind spark in the man's gray eyes
hardened. His tone went from friendly to
cold as ice. "You're gonna turn down a
check? A no strings attached check?"
She squared her jaw. He must be jok-
ing. Nothing in this life came with no strings.
She gripped Caleb's stroller tight and started
to maneuver around the man. He didn't take
the hint, only stepping to the left and block-
ing her path.
Keisha shot a glance around her. The
produce area was scantily populated. There
were two elderly women huddled around the
herbs, and a stock girl setting up an apple
display. She gave the man a thorough glance.
While she didn't think he'd try anything too
crazy, there was something about him that
made her uneasy. But if growing up in The
Heights had taught her anything, she knew
better than to show an ounce of fear. Even
though her heart thundered in her chest, her
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words were a throaty growl. "Get the hell out
of my way."
"Don't be stupid," the man hissed.
"Think about your kid."
Keisha's eyes went wide and the fear
transformed to fury. Was he threatening
her? Was he trying to threaten her baby?
"Don't you DARE talk about my son!"
She spied the older women suddenly
turning to where they stood. Even then teen
bopped her pink highlighted head in their
direction.
The man didn't flinch, but he lowered
his voice. "I don't mean any offense, lady.
But when Conrad Cunningham wants
someone to go away and is throwing a check
their way to bat, you'd be a fool not to
accept.”
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Keisha gasped, clutching the bars of
the stroller for strength. The gall...first the
interview, now this? Was she that toxic, that
abominable, that he was willing to do any-
thing to get rid of her?
When Caleb let out a gurgle, for a mo-
ment, she tried to imagine taking the money.
He was right--it could buy a good house and
ensure money would be no obstacle as far as
his education was concerned, but at what
cost? Was she willing to say goodbye to the
man she loved? Was she ready to go to bed
alone, imagining Jake's father's smug ex-
pression as he told his son that he was right?
That Keisha was only in this for the money?
She slowly raised a hand from the
handlebar, her fingers shaking as she
reached out, accepting the check.
The man gave her a sickening smile.
"Good girl." He pressed the check into her
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open palm. "And just like that, you're a
millionaire."
Millionaire.
Rich.
Just
like
the
Cunninghams.
She brought her other hand up, cradling the
check as she stared at it until the words
blurred into one another.
"No," she whispered. She wouldn't be bought
off, or made to disappear. Not by him. Not
by anyone.
She steeled her gaze as the man
wavered, visibly confused. "I wouldn't expect
someone like you, who does a man like Con-
rad Cunningham's dirty work, stalking wo-
men and making veiled threats, to under-
stand." She folded the check in half then
ripped it, tossing the scraps at the flabber-
gasted man. Conrad's bribe rained down all
around him. "You can tell him that Keisha
Wallace said he can go to hell."
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She took his gaping surprise as an out
and wheeled around him, continuing down
the aisle. She kept it calm, cool, and collected
until she turned the corner, then booked it
toward the back hall where the bathrooms
were. She ignored the bystander’s weird
looks, only turning into the bathroom before
she let herself relax. Caleb was squealing, on
cloud nine from their high speed route, un-
aware of how heavy what had gone down
really was.
She pushed back the visor and kissed
the crown of his head, breathing his scent in
deep before she pulled out her cell, punching
Jake's number. When it went to voicemail,
she dialed Raven.
She held the phone to her ear as
Raven's mousy voice flowed from the
earpiece. "No, Raven. Everything is not okay.
I need to talk to Jake. NOW."
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Chapter Ten
Jake
Jake gave Marta Quixley, a spunky
lobbyist for a national LGBT rights group,
his full attention.
Her fluorescent baby blue eyes flashed
as she pulled out a manila folder. "Have you
heard about Jeremiah Banks' hate group?
The SOB has started harassing co-eds, Jake.
Kids that are already struggling with their
identity and finding their place in the world.
Something has to be done!"
Jake massaged the bridge of nose. As
much as Jake wanted to push for legislation
that would bar Jeremiah’s group from
spreading their message of hate, their group
had recently made waves by crying foul all
the way to the Supreme Court. The court had
ruled in their favor. The group was em-
boldened by the verdict and turned their dis-
gusting campaign up fifty notches, now
protesting and spreading vitriol on and
offline.
“Marcy,” Jake said with a sigh. “You
know I want to help in any way I can-”
“I don’t mean to be blunt, Senator,
but I do want to remind you that you ran on
an equality for all platform.” Marcy barely
stood at 5’5, but her voice was authoritative
and commanding. She was someone that
fought tooth and nail and didn’t take any-
thing lying down.
Normally, Jake would fire back
something witty. That’s how their relation-
ship went—they busted each other’s balls,
each keeping the other on their A game. But
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Jake’s mind was a million miles away. His
mind was on Saturday, and the opportunity
to see Keisha and talk about his father’s
latest stunt, face to face.
It had taken everything in Jake, every
ounce of self-control to not fly off the rail
and march down to his father’s property and
beat the shit out of him. He’d tried to pay her
off? He didn’t know if he was more offended
that he thought Keisha was the kind of wo-
man that could be bought off or that he
thought their love was so meaningless that
she’d accept.
Keisha had calmed him, telling him
that they were gonna figure it all out and ap-
proach it with cool heads, as adults. That
something had to be done, but it couldn’t in-
volve violence. She didn’t seem to under-
stand that as far as his father was concerned,
violence was the only language he was fluent
in.
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He still bore the scars of a childhood
lived in fear, he and his mother both tiptoe-
ing around him, afraid the smallest action
would awaken his fury. The few times he got
her to actually talk about his childhood and
his father’s heavy hand, Barbara would shrug
it off as discipline. ‘He only raised his hand
to keep you in line’, she’d insist before steer-
ing the conversation to more pleasant
territory.
Conrad was someone that ruled with
fear and intimidation. It’s how he built his
financial empire and how he kept Jake and
his mother submissive and docile. Hell, his
strong arming was why Jake studied politics
instead of any other subject.
But the one area that he could not,
would not allow his father to dominate was
his love life. He refused to let him bully
Keisha or destroy what they were desperately
trying to build against all odds. Jake would-
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“Jake?” Jake blinked rapidly through
the red, refocusing. Marcy was staring at him
gingerly, her hawkish features softening.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look al-
right to me.” She closed her manila folder.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Jake snorted. “I’m sure you have better
things to do than listen to me complain,
Marcy.”
“Well of course I do,” she quipped.
“Marches to plan, bras to burn, other reps to
bug, hate mongers to topple.” She slid to the
edge of her seat. “But you’ve kinda grown on
me.” She chuckled. “Like a fungus.”
Jake felt his mouth twitch. He had to
agree. She was definitely his favorite lobby-
ist, the one he looked forward to when it was
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jotted on his calendar. They confided in one
another. “I’m just having issues with my
father.”
She let out a sigh. “Don’t we all.” She
scratched her chin. “Is this about his im-
promptu, ‘My son is not having sexual rela-
tions with that woman’ on network news a
couple of weeks ago?”
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg,”
Jake said, shaking his head. “Apparently he’s
gone past the denial stage in the grieving
process straight to bribery.”
Marcy shook her head. “You know I’ve
been working on the Hill too long when I’m
not even surprised. Rich folks behaving
badly is kind of business as usual.” She
scanned his face. “So what now? He’s pulling
out all the stops to put an end to you and…”
“Keisha,” Jake answered. He ran a
hand through his wavy hair. “She wants to
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have them over for dinner this weekend and
lay it all out. We’re together, accept it, or get
the hell out of the way.”
“And I’m guessing you’re having
French onion with a side of-”
“Arsenic?”
Marcy laughed. “I was gonna say Dex-
alax. I mean, a night spent up close and per-
sonal with the porcelain throne is enough to
give the mightiest man a whole new per-
spective on life.”
As tempting as spiking his father’s
food was, at the end of the day, it failed to
address the root of the problem. His father
obviously didn’t take them very seriously,
and Jake wondered if dinner would even
dent anything.
"So it's pretty serious between the two
of you, eh?" Marcy asked with a grin.
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Pretty serious didn't even begin to
brush the surface. It was hard to believe
there had ever been anyone before her, any
feeling before this.
His day to day life was filled with
agendas and meetings where he talked about
making choices for everyday Americans,
looking out for the average family. Even with
Trixie, and all the love he'd held for her son,
a part of him always had pause about the life
they would lead. And even before that, he'd
been a playboy, never letting anyone get
close enough to hurt him when things inevit-
ably ended.
But with Keisha, everything seemed to
click. Colors seemed brighter. Food tasted
better. Moments were so much sweeter, es-
pecially since they only had so little time to-
gether. He saw Caleb's face in the kids he
held
for
photo
opportunities.
Home,
happiness, love--words he'd always thought
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were beyond him. Things he'd thought he'd
have to settle for, marrying a pre-approved
Stepford wife like his father. But with Keisha,
everything was possible.
Marcy nodded slightly. "I think you
just answered my question." She sighed,
closing her eyes. "Oh to be young and in
love." One of her eyes popped open. "And to
have that love held at the same esteem as
countless heterosexual couples."
Had to love her persistence. "I will
bring up the issue at our media and ethics
committee meeting next week."
Marcy went back to business as usual,
pulling out a small binder of information and
plopping it on his desk. "You'll find several
petitions our group has gathered, urging
Facebook and others to take more decisive
action against abuse of their technologies."
She gathered her things and slid from her
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chair. "I know you’ve got a busy day, so I’ll be
on my way. Good luck with dinner, Senator."
Jake shook her outstretched hand. He
still had another day on the hill, another day
to collect himself before he saw his parents.
But deep down, he knew that he'd never have
enough time to prepare for the showdown. It
was just a matter of minimizing collateral
damage, and remembering that at the end of
it all, they would leave, and he'd still have
Keisha.
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Chapter Eleven
Keisha
Maria bounced Caleb on her hip, re-
peating her disapproval for the fifth time
that night. "Am I the only one that thinks
this is crazy?"
To be honest, no, she wasn't. Keisha
had carried her frustration for the past few
days, trying to channel it into unpacking
boxes and preparing their new home. The
first floor was almost completely finished-
she and Maria had painted the living room a
deep mahogany, contrasting with the tan
sofa and glass coffee tables, and put up
muted art that decorated the room and really
brought it all together. The kitchen had been
easy, just adding a statement piece here and
there, a pop of color, a vase of fresh flowers.
And as far as dinner, everything was
damn near perfect. She'd managed to not
overcook the rotisserie chicken, the mashed
potatoes smelled divine, the green beans
were blanching and the apple pie she'd made
from scratch was cooling.
She'd put on her war paint, wearing
makeup that she only put on for special occa-
sions, and even donned a 50's style dress
that she'd found thrifting. The cream color
was conservative, yet accentuated her dark
skin.
But when she stood still, and thought
about the fact that she was letting a man
who'd insulted her countless times and tried
to derail her relationship, and his wife with
her cold, condescending smile, she couldn’t
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stop the combination of anger and nerves
that made her body shake.
She turned to the marble counter and
clutched it. "It's gonna be fine, Maria. It’s
gonna be fine."
Maria clucked her tongue. "Having company
over should be an exciting time, mija.”
"It is exciting."
Maria shot her a look. "Is that why
Jake hasn't been seen all day? Why you've
broken four plates today? Why you've got
that painful smile on your face?"
Keisha licked her lips, the sides of her
mouth aching. It was painful--and all she
could do to not lose her shit. But they needed
a cease fire. A truce. They had to come to
some sort of middle ground because she and
Caleb were a part of Jake's life now, but so
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were his parents. They had to find a way to
coexist.
Almost
on
cue,
the
doorbell
dinged...and Keisha lost it. Her heart raced,
running a million miles a minute as her chest
heaved up and down. Her hands felt clammy,
sticking to the apron as she wiped them on
the starch fabric, trying to steel herself. It
wasn't working because she started shaking.
What the hell had she been thinking? She
couldn't do this. She couldn't face them.
"Why did I invite them?" Keisha
wailed. "They hate me, they hate my son
and-"
Maria took a step forward, her voice
firm. "Esta bien." She took her free hand and
placed it on Keisha's shoulder, steadying her.
"You're a good woman, and a good mother.
No matter what those rich pricks say, you're
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not lucky to have them—they’re lucky to have
you."
"But-"
"No buts," Maria cut in. "You can do
this." She gave her a mischievous smile.
"And you'll thank me for this later, but I'm
gonna go grab that door."
Keisha's dark eyes went wide with
horror. "N-No I’m not ready. I’m not-"
But she was gone, sauntering to the
foyer. Keisha had no choice but to get it to-
gether. She put on her game face, putting
everything else on the back burner. She
couldn't let them see weakness or they'd eat
her alive.
The door swung open and Barbara
breezed in. She was decked out in a crisp
white shirt, blazer and jeans. Her gray hair
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fell in soft waves around her pensive face.
She slapped on a smile as fake as Keisha's.
"Keisha, dear!" she gushed. "This
place is simply beautiful." She pivoted to-
ward Maria. "If you could assist my hus-
band? He brought a couple of gifts for
everyone."
Keisha had to stifle the laughter that
rose in her throat, but Maria didn't hold
back.
"Your husband can get his own damn
bags." Maria looped the diaper bag over her
shoulder and cast a final look over her
shoulder. "Me and Caleb will be back later."
Barbara just stood in the doorway,
confounded. She cradled a bottle of wine in
her arms, watching Maria march past before
turning her attention back to Keisha.
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"That was my friend," Keisha said
quietly. She bridged the gap between them,
extending her hand for the wine. "She's
watching Caleb for a little bit so we can all
talk."
The older woman's high cheekbones
flushed as she let out a giggle. "My mistake."
She was quick to forget the offense, pushing
past Keisha into the living room. She oohhed
and aahhed, but Keisha knew in the back of
her mind she thought she was slumming it.
"This place is, uh, really quaint!" she
said cheerfully, panning in slow motion.
Keisha couldn't help but put her on
blast a little, considering the drama she and
her husband had dished out. "Oh? What do
you like best?"
Barbara fidgeted, her hands toying
with her pearl necklace. After a moment she
cleared her throat, gesturing at the sectional.
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"That's a really pretty brown, uh, tan, cream
color."
"Thank you." Keisha gave her a curi-
ous look as the woman began to hop from
foot to foot, unable to stay still or meet
Keisha's gaze. If Keisha didn’t know any bet-
ter, she’d think Barbara was nervous.
“Everything okay?”
“Y-yes,” Barbara said quickly, rubbing
her hands together. She was still doing the
rocking thing and it was looking more and
more like the pee pee dance as time passed.
Where was the icy, calm, and collected wo-
man she’d met in Winterhorn a month ago?
When she took a step toward Jake’s
mother, she turned several shades grayer.
Keisha shook her head slowly, bristling at the
woman’s reaction. “I’m not gonna knock you
out, Barbara.”
150/165
The woman let out a gasp of relief.
When she took in Keisha’s insulted glance,
she pressed on. “I mean, I know you’re not
gonna hurt me thought I would understand
if you wanted to do me harm after what
Conrad-”
The clap of the front door slamming
shut cut into her explanation and a flare of
anger rippled across Keisha. As hurtful as
Barbara’s reception had been when they met,
it paled in comparison to Conrad’s tireless
efforts to put her relationship six feet under.
The man was dressed in a stormy gray
shirt and olive slacks but with the look of
consternation he might as well have been
wearing camo. He unloaded his packages
onto the dining room table unceremoniously
and it solicited a desire to chunk a plate or
two at his head. Maybe Barbara had a reason
to be worried.
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Barbara was the first to move, quickly
trying to diffuse the ticking bomb as Keisha
and Conrad squared off, each daring the oth-
er to make the first move. She pushed a sil-
ver tendril from her eyes as she sprung to
gather the packages and straighten the place-
ment and centerpiece Conrad upended.
“C-Connie! I was just telling Keisha
how excited we were about dinner.” She
fluffed a bow on one of the package. “And
how we appreciate her reaching out so we
can all find middle ground.”
Keisha
expected
him
to
say
something, anything to make up for what
he’d done, but he just stood there, infuriat-
ingly stoic. She had to get out of there, take a
breath. And besides, where was Jake? Fif-
teen minutes ago he’d claimed he was wrap-
ping up an email. “I’m just gonna head up-
stairs and-”
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Barbara whirled around, clapping her
hands together. “Jake!”
For a moment, everything else faded
to black when Keisha saw him. He was wear-
ing the cerulean shirt she loved that made
his deep eyes hypnotizing. But it was the hint
of a smile that gave her strength. The curled
lip that told her this was definitely crazy.
And when he joined her side and placed a
strong hand on the small of her back, it told
her that thick or thin, even if this dinner be-
came a self-fulfilling prophecy and ended
disastrously, they’d weather it together.
She caressed his cheek and brought
her lips to his, planting a kiss and drinking
him in. When she took a step back, he pulled
her back in with an aggressiveness that took
her breath away and made her yearn for him.
After another brush of the lips that left her
body tingling, Conrad cleared his throat.
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“We certainly didn’t come here to
watch you two claw at each other like horny
teenagers,” he grumbled.
His icy tone shook Keisha from her
stupor. She bit back her retort and instead
extricated herself. She flashed the sweetest
smile she could manage. “I’m gonna check
on the chicken.”
“No.” His voice was a whip, planting
Keisha in place.
“Honey,” Barbara squeaked. “You said
you’d try-“
He shook his head, all the poise and
dignity melting away. He had the same eyes
as her Jake, the same aristocratic nose. But
where she saw only love in Jake’s opals,
there was contempt in Conrad’s. Where she
felt the curve of Jake’s nose as he nuzzled
her, she saw only arrogance. She’d been
nothing but respectable to the man and he
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treated her like gum on the bottom of his
overpriced loafers.
“How dare you,” Keisha hissed, no
longer able to hold her peace. “I invite you
here, try to extend an olive branch, and you
have the nerve to order me around?”
Barbara pushed forward. “Keisha, he
didn’t mean-”
“Oh I can assure you,” Conrad
snarled, “I meant what I said. I’m not gonna
sit here and eat at this table and pretend this
union is anything but a joke.” He turned his
vitriol to Jake. “You’ve done some stupid
things, but you have truly outdone yourself
now. I will not allow you to destroy this fam-
ily’s name for a warm hole.”
Tears of fury burned Keisha’s eyes as
she clenched and unclenched her fists. She’d
never wanted to hit someone, hurt them so
bad. And he was ripe for the taking. Barbara
155/165
had even shuffled to the side, moving out of
the line of fire.
Keisha took a step forward, her hand
shaking, every bone preparing. Waiting. She
looked into his hardened face, his perfectly
disgusted scowl. She saw Holden, when she
told him she was keeping the baby. She saw
her mother, telling her that a baby would ru-
in her life. She saw Carmen, bemused when
Keisha told her she was working to get her
degree. In his lines of anger, judgment, she
saw every person that tried to keep her down
and tried to control her. If she hit him, he
would win. She didn’t want to give him the
satisfaction. It would hurt more than any in-
sult he could hurl her way.
She breathed in deep and when she
exhaled, she squared her shoulders. “Get the
hell out of my house.”
156/165
The surprise on his face was delicious.
He quickly gathered himself, turning to Jake.
“Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?”
Keisha gripped his hand. She had to
woosah through it, but Jake was a hot head.
The last thing she wanted, or his campaign
needed, was Jake getting arrested for aggrav-
ated assault.
But instead of knocking him out, Jake
calmly stood his ground. “You heard what
she said. You’re no longer welcome here.”
A sob escaped from Barbara’s lips, but
she didn’t try to dissuade him. Without an-
other word, she gathered the boxes and spun
on her heels toward the door. Conrad was
still livid, but he realized it was a losing
battle and followed his wife from the room.
Keisha only relaxed when the front door
slammed. “What was I thinking?” she
groaned, falling into Jake’s open arms.
157/165
Jake held her tight. “You’re a better person
than my father ever was or ever will be.”
She laid her check against his chest. “So
you’re not just with me for my warm hole?”
He traced her spine, his voice laced with lust.
“Well a warm hole definitely doesn’t hurt.”
She shoved him back playfully and
turned to the remnants of dinner. “Well, at
least we’ll have lots of leftovers.” She turned
to the glistening chicken on the stove. “You
wanna eat something now?”
“Actually, I have something I want to ask
you.”
She turned. “What’s-“ Her mouth fell open.
She’d dreamt of this moment. Hoped for it.
Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.
Jake was on one knee, holding a ring. A dia-
mond ring.
158/165
“You’re everything to me,” Jake said
softly. “In you, I found more than love. I
found a family. A future. I see forever in
you.” He licked his lips. “And I don’t wanna
waste one more minute, Keisha. I want
forever to start right now.” His eyes bore into
her as he said four words that changed
everything. “Will you marry me?”
She sunk to her knees beside him and
clasped him to her. He was everything.
Everything.
“Yes,” she cried, tears of joy streaming down
her face. “Yes!”
####
159/165
About the Author
Violet Williams is a writer living in the
Greater Sacramento area, saving the world
via erotic tales…one e-reader at a time.
Join her in the gutter:
etwilliamserotica.wordpress.com
.
Available Works by Violet Willi-
ams for the Kindle
Taboo Erotica
A Family Affair (A Taboo Tale, #2)
A Family Fornication (A Taboo Tale,
Brother Sister Sex Series
Lesbian Themed Erotica
First Taste (The Beautiful Blood Saga,
Wet (Five Flash Erotica F-F Stories)
162/165
Action Erotica
General Erotica
Interracial Erotica
163/165
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