What Happens In Italy..._A BWWM Billionaire Romance Page 12

  A yellow light beamed into the room as Tyra opened the door. “Ten minutes, start washing up.”

  Not needing to hear anything else, Maxwell and Jacoby raced up the stairs, Jacoby pumping his fists in victory. “Ha, I get the big piece of chicken.”

  Nariah allowed the silence to linger, using it to observe one of the most prominent places of her childhood. The basement represented the transformation into the woman that now stood in it. It was her first gym. Where she learned to channel her anger into motivation to better herself. Where she learned to love herself. In it, her dad taught her the definition of hard work. It was also where they bonded. It was the place where she found her inner strength. The basement also held significance in her heart because it was where she first explored her sexual desires; the site of her first kiss, her first time having sex, her first time fucking.

  “Hello,” Russell waved his hands in front of her eyes, “earth to Nariah.”

  “My bad, what’d you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything. A lot must have happened down here,” he guessed.

  “How’d you figure?”

  “You zoned out for like ten minutes.” His kissed the center of her cheeks. “You’re hot when you’re in airhead mode.”

  “Shut up. There won’t be too many of those moments. I’m not a blonde.”

  “Thank God, had too many of those in my day.” He pulled her into him, swaying her to the music in his head. “I hope you’ll tell me about it.”

  “If you’re a good boy.”

  Tyra’s voice ruptured through them, Russell jumping back as if she were standing right next to him. “You better get up here before Maxwell and Jacoby eat it all.”

  Though minimal words were said, the conversation was lively, grunts signifying agreements, moans equaling compliments, histrionics denoting whether to pass a dish or water. Russell was right in assuming he wasn’t ready for Jamaican heat, his skin resembling the colors of the cayenne pepper he consumed. He hadn’t managed to take three bites before asking for a glass of milk.

  “Come to me whenever you get sick. I have a combination of spices that’ll clear your sinuses right up,” Tyra bragged.

  After the meal was over, Nariah led the way into the living room. Not one to shy away from an uncomfortable setting, she asked, “How are we gonna do this? Do you want to break out the conversation cards or take turns asking Russell questions?”

  “I want to do the conversation cards. I’d like to get to know you all as well.”

  “I like a man who knows what he wants,” Maxwell complimented.

  Tyra disappeared, returning with a red and white box in hand. After shuffling them, she set them in the middle of the coffee table. “Russell, you have the honors since you are our guest.”

  He cleared his throat before he read. “If you had intro music, what would it be and why?” The room was quiet as he contemplated his answer. “If Nariah hasn’t told you already, I’m a hip-hop head. My intro music would be C.R.E.A.M. by the legendary Wu Tang Clan because I’m about the dolla dolla bill ya’ll.”

  “That is so douchey,” Nariah scoffed.

  Jacoby gave him a pound. “Marry him sis. Lock him down tonight!”

  “Is money your only concern?” Tyra words slashed through their amusement, the room’s temperature dropping. “I only ask because being a businessman of your stature, I can only imagine how much time goes into your work.”

  “I plan on staying with Nariah for at least the first year of her pregnancy. I’m also moving here permanently, so being there for my child and her won’t be a problem.”

  “Being present physically is different from supporting someone emotionally and spiritually,” Tyra challenged.

  “Mom, Russell and I already talked about this. We have a plan.”

  “Nariah and my son will always come first. Even if that means moving them into my office.”

  Despite there being no animosity in their faces, their tones of voice more than demonstrated the seriousness of the conversation. They both donned classic defensive stances, neither one willing to back down, Nariah in the middle.

  “I’m sure you’re following in your father’s footsteps. Did he teach you your time management skills?”

  The twitch in Russell’s left eye showed that Tyra struck a nerve. Fear constricted Nariah’s throat. She and the other two members of the scene kept their eyes moving from side to side. Russell stared straight ahead, the red hue traveling toward his hairline belied his cool exterior. Tyra relaxed, proud of what she had done. Satisfied in her effort to shake him, she was patient in waiting for his response.

  “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. Nariah,” his cold eyes landed on her, “you can stay if you want.”

  “I’m coming with you,” she said as she packed up her things. After exchanging goodbyes with her dad and brother, she withheld the same affection from Tyra. “We’ll talk about this later.” In that moment, their roles had been switched, Nariah wearing the disapproving glare. She followed him out the door, speaking loud enough for her disappointment and anger to reach their ears.

  ###

  The brown liquid in the glass Russell held inched up the sides, trying to taste his fingers. His steps thumped on the brand-new hardwood floors, producing a galloping sound.

  Ca-lunk. Ca-lunk. Ca-lunk.

  Nariah watched him in silence, part of her not knowing what to say, another part not wanting to say anything at all. She winced as his drink slapped against the back of his throat. Other than wine, she had never seen him drink. It was his third since they arrived home. His eyes were beginning to show signs of his drunkenness, the otherwise visible veins beginning to blend into the background. He hadn’t said anything, which scared her. She thought of how Olivia must have felt when she shut her out. It was enough to never make her do it again.

  Russell stopped in front of her. “I see where you get it from, now.”

  “What?”

  “That pretentious holier-than-thou attitude of yours.” His slur made the sentence into one long word.

  “What?” Nariah asked again.

  “You heard me. Your mother thinks she’s better than me. She thinks I can’t take care of you and our son.”

  “She’s just protective. She would have come at anybody else the same way.”

  “It’s because I’m white.”

  Splash.

  “Okay,” Nariah said, prying the glass from his hand, “you’ve had enough. Time to go to bed.”

  Refusing her attempts to get him into the bedroom, he questioned why she didn’t defend him. “You just sat there. You didn’t say anything on my behalf. You left me hanging.”

  “I did not. I just didn’t want either of you to think I was taking sides.”

  “You’re supposed to be on my side. It’s supposed to be me and you over anybody; against the world.” Intoxicated, he didn’t realize how hard he pushed her. “Go back with them. I don’t even know why you came here.”

  “I’m gonna let that slide because you’re clearly drunk. But don’t put your hands on me like that again.”

  “Oh I forgot, you’re a—” he flexed his biceps— “strong black woman. Just like that bitch mother of yours.”

  She didn’t help him as he tripped over his feet, stumbling into the couch. He banged his head against the metal arm. Pain-filled groans replaced his insults, humiliating himself with his drunken arrogance. Nariah shook her head in disgust as she slipped into her coat. She kept the insult on the edge of her lips from spilling over, deciding to take the high road. She was sure the baby could feel the rise in her stress levels. “Call me when you sober up?”

  Slam.

  Chapter11

  Nariah’s voice whispered in her ear, her dreams mixing with reality. She jolted awake as her phone began vibrating. Russell’s name and picture greeted her. She denied the call. And the next one. And the next one. After the fourth and fifth attempts, she blocked his number. Her text read:

  I do
n’t wanna talk 2 u right now. Will call later.

  A response came back before her screen went dark.

  I’m here.

  She kicked and punched at the air. After inhaling her stale breath, she lugged herself into the bathroom to get dressed.

  Russell let himself in, carrying a full bouquet of mixed colored roses. He wasted no time in delivering his apology, the speed in which he did causing him to start over twice. A third failed attempt to remember his words convinced him to freestyle. “I was disrespectful and you didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  “Where have I heard that before.” Nariah continued to ignore his presence, busying herself with washing last night’s dishes. She then turned the faucet on full blast to stifle his words.

  “I don’t know why I keep messing up with you.”

  “I don’t either.” She faced him. “Maybe you should give up.”

  “I deserve that.”

  “No, what you deserve is a slap and to never talk to me again.”

  “But…”

  “But for the sake of our son, I will be the bigger person and forgive you. He shouldn’t have to feel the effects of your assholishness.” She stepped to him, her toes pushing against his shoes. “Don’t you ever call my mother, his grandmother, a bitch again.” There was no end to the threat, as she didn’t know what she would do, hoping what she said would be enough to deter him.

  “You have my word.”

  “Honestly Russell, your words don’t mean shit to me anymore.”

  His pulse slowed for a second, her hips swaying in slow motion as she walked away. The words hit him in a place that nothing she ever said previously did. “What does that mean?”

  “Take it how you want it. I have a doctor’s appointment. Are you coming?”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  In the doctor’s office, they managed to put their egos aside, pretending to be the happy couple they saw on the brochures resting on the counter. Nariah’s hands roamed around her stomach, skipping over the deep stretch marks on her hips and pelvis. She focused on her growing boy, ignoring the whispers trying to pull her back into the past. Russell’s warm hand encompassed hers. She guided to where she felt their son kick, calm washing over her as she saw his eyes light up.

  “He’s so strong.”

  “Just like his dad.”

  “Knock, knock,” Doctor Langston announced. “How are the parents to be?”

  “We’re fine,” Russell answered for them.

  “Don’t speak for me,” Nariah chided. “Don’t take this the wrong way son, but I’m ready to get you out of me.”

  “That’s perfectly normal.” Doctor Langston went through her usual procedure of checking vital signs, noting the changes on her chart. She asked questions pertaining to morning sickness, diet, and cravings; all of which Russell answered. “What about mood swings?”

  “They actually haven’t been bad,” he said. “Nothing like my fi...Nariah’s been great.”

  “Other than very pregnant, how have you been feeling? Any pains, headaches, things of that nature?”

  “Just the usual back soreness, but Russell hasn’t skimped on the massages.” As he and Doctor Langston carried on their own conversation, she realized that he had kept his promise in that he would be by her side. Other than the nights he explained the mistress situation and the incident between him and her mother, they hadn’t spent a night apart.

  Even if they didn’t sleep together, she woke up to his smile. He made sure she took her vitamins and ate properly and even started doing yoga with her. Along with preparing his business for his absence, he paid an accountant to look over her books and hired three people to take over her client list until she was able to get back to work. Not to mention he hadn’t missed a doctor’s appointment.

  The more she thought about everything he had done and was doing, the more guilty she felt about not defending him at her parents’ house. He was right. Knowing she would never hear the end of it, she would find a way to apologize without having to vocalize it.

  “Right, Nariah?” Russell asked.

  Despite her thoughts, she realized both pair of eyes were on her. “What?”

  “You’ve decided you wanted to do a natural birth.”

  “I want to, but—”

  “The pain,” Doctor Langston finished for her. “You’ll be fine. I’m not saying it won’t hurt like hell, but your body was made to do it.”

  “All the women I asked said the same thing.”

  “Just think about the kids that were born before drugs came into the picture.” Dr. Langston stood to retrieve the ultrasound machine. “Besides, if I can do it. You can do it.”

  Russell interlaced his fingers between Nariah’s as Dr. Langston smeared the gel on her stomach.

  “There’s the big boy.” Dr. Langston moved the camera around, highlighting the baby’s toes and fingers, lingering on his face. “Everything looks good. He’s nice and healthy.”

  The words were music to Nariah’s ears. All she wanted was for her son to be healthy. She wiped the tears blurring her vision, thinking how scared she was just months ago. Though she had never considered being a mother, she now felt it was her mission in life. It helped that she knew she wasn’t alone, Russell beside her, her family also giving unconditional love and support. She squeezed his hand. “We’re so lucky.”

  “Yeah we are. I love you so much.”

  “I love you too.” She grinned.

  “Do you want pictures?” Dr. Langston asked.

  Tears were in Russell’s eyes before Dr. Langston handed him the collection of photos, each one showing their son in a different position. He teased Nariah, jerking them away each time she reached for them. He felt good about the place they were in, though he had a good ways to go in regaining her full trust. He was determined to make the relationship work, especially given the situation with the mother of his other son.

  “I might be able to take you to the cookout now.”

  “You didn’t tell me anything about a cookout,” he said.

  Nariah shook her head laughing. “It’s a black term. It’s when you’ve been accepted into the black community.”

  “What did I do to deserve that honor?”

  She held up her index finger. “One, you got a black woman pregnant.” Her middle finger joined the other one. “You got two babies by two different women.”

  “I’ll take it.” Russell’s grin took up half his face. “I thought I was already in though because I know more hip-hop than you.”

  “Shut up. It’s not because I don’t listen to it. I just like what I like better.” They spent a few more minutes bonding over the pictures. “Have you told Seth he’s gonna be a big brother yet?”

  Suddenly, he kissed her, massaging his tongue with her own, only breaking it at her insistence. Tracing her lips with his thumb, he wiped the excess saliva from the corners of her mouth before kissing her again. Forgetting about Dr. Langston, he checked behind him, breathing a sigh of relief after seeing they were alone.

  “What was that for?”

  “For being the woman of my dreams.” It meant the world to him that she considered Seth. She hadn’t said one word against his mother even offering to meet her, which he managed to convince her to do after the pregnancy.

  Nariah knew being at odds with Monica, Seth’s mother, wouldn’t be good for anyone. They were all family now. She wanted Seth to be part of his brother’s life and was willing to swallow her pride to make that happen. It was how she would want Russell to react if the tables were turned. “I appreciate you being the great father you are to both of the kids.”

  “I want to tell him in person,” he said.

  “Do you want me to be there with you?”

  “I want to do it alone, make sure he understands that I won’t forget about him and that I don’t love him any less.”

  She cupped his face in his hand, pulling him closer to kiss him.

  “What was that fo
r?”

  “I like your lips.”

  His face scrunched into a half scowl. “It’s always physical with you.”

  She ran her hand over his shoulder and down his arm, continuing down his torso until she reached his belt, lingering there, feeling him stiffen. Keeping one eye on the door, she positioned her hand between his legs, massaging his bulge. “You know they say pregnant women are super horny.”

  Russell’s voice and eyes dropped. “I didn’t know you were so bad, Ms. Alexander.”

  “After all this time you still haven’t learned?”

  “I’ve been told I’m rather hardheaded. Maybe it’d be better if you show me.” His hand split her thighs, searching for the soft spot, applying pressure upon finding it.

  The fabric did nothing to dull the sensation, small shock waves surging through her body. She turned her head, giving him access to her neck. The hairs on her arms stood, a chill accompanying the waves.

  His hands ventured over her stomach before going into her waistband, pulling her panties to the side. “Does it make me bad if—” He ripped his hand out of her pants, throwing himself into the chair.

  Nariah pulled her shirt down and sat up the best she could.

  “Oh I’m sorry,” the nurse that poked her head through the door apologized. “Wrong room.”

  Russell helped her off the table, holding her waist as she waddled to the door. He held her hand back before she could open it. “We’ll continue that when we get home.” A smack of the butt drove his point home.

  Chapter12

  Entry #: In Labor

  Mood: Contractions

  Title: WHERE THE FUCK IS RUSSELL!!!

  My water just broke. Thank God Olivia is here. I don’t think I’ll be able to write for a few days. Ahhh…contraction. I don’t remember shit from that birthing class. Ahhh…another contraction. I don’t know if I can do this natural. Feels like…OMG! God please let me make it. When Russell gets here I’m gonna kill him.

  Olivia was all over the place, her phone in one hand, the other flailing through the air, doing its best to keep her on balance. The ringing echoed throughout the loft, competing with Nariah’s yelling. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” She hung up, calling right back. “You picked the perfect time to go on a business trip.”