Almost Doesn't Count Page 2

  Leaning forward on her desk, Erica noticed something new. Despite the madness that this department was, she always kept her desk orderly. It was essential to her staying focused and not getting tripped up. A neat desk was an error-free desk. But now there was a little off-white envelope laying in the middle of her desk with her name written on it in cursive. It hadn’t been there before she left, so someone had placed it there in just the few minutes she had run to deliver the releases.

  Erica looked around. No one was paying attention to her. Everyone who wasn’t at the press conference was focused on their work. She had worked at the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia, for years in different departments, and this was the most professional one she’d ever been in. Usually, the assistants would gossip and take coffee breaks to give them a rest from their demanding directors, but not this group. Everyone was all work, all the time. Erica actually preferred it this way. She didn’t want to be all up in people’s business and she didn’t like people all up in hers. Especially considering the secrets she had.

  Erica opened the envelope and noticed the handwriting looked familiar.

  Jonah would like to have lunch with you in his office tomorrow.

  —Jenna

  Jenna was the main assistant to Jonah Dolan, the deputy assistant secretary of defense. He was also the man who, just six months ago, Erica found out was her father. It had been a disaster.

  Erica had been happy with her life. She was dating Terrell Nicolli, her boyfriend of four years. He had proposed to her the same day she’d found out she was getting a new job with Dolan’s office. Dolan was a powerful and influential man, one that many people thought could be president if he wanted to.

  Erica never suspected Jonah was her father. She had been told by her mother that her father was an absent man in the lives of her and her brother, Nate. She had seen the man once, whom she knew now to be only Nate’s father. Her mother died from cancer when Erica was only nineteen years old and Nate was twelve. She had been struggling ever since, but was making a life for herself and Nate, and eventually Terrell. The position in Jonah’s office was more money and a great opportunity for her future.

  Jonah was too nice to her from day one and he seemed to like her very much. At first she thought he might have some sexual interest in her, but he made it clear that was not the case early on. But his interest in her future and his disapproval of Terrell in her life still seemed a bit too personal, especially for someone like Erica, who had problems trusting others.

  Terrell, angry at Jonah’s attempts to cut him out of Erica’s life, was the first to find out that Jonah was Erica’s father. He’d found out that Jonah and Erica’s mother had a brief affair the summer before Jonah left for the military. They had not kept in touch. Earlier that year, Jonah had found out about Erica and made an attempt to bring her into his life without letting on who she was to him. Only his wife, a cold woman named Juliet, knew and she demanded that Jonah keep this relationship a secret.

  Erica’s heart was broken when she found out that Terrell had gone back to his old ways of hustling any chance he got when he tried to blackmail Jonah over his affair with Sherise. This led to the discovery of Jonah’s real relationship with Erica. Erica was dismayed and beyond upset when she realized that Jonah wanted to keep her a secret as if she were something to be ashamed of. Not to mention, he had threatened both Terrell and Sherise with unspeakable acts if they told the truth.

  She wanted nothing to do with him, but he continued to reach out to her. She quit her job immediately. Jonah had not allowed her resignation to be formally entered and had her instead transferred to another department, the communications department. Erica didn’t want to accept, but because of her financial situation now that Terrell was not going half in on their rent and expenses, and the realities of the tough job market, she agreed to take the position on the condition that Jonah leave her alone and not do another thing for her ever again.

  He agreed, but immediately started to try to reconnect with her. She didn’t want to hear it. She had broken off her engagement with Terrell and was alone again. She had only Sherise and Billie to confide in. She threatened to tell the media that she was Jonah’s daughter if he didn’t leave her alone, and for a while that had worked. But lately, Jonah was trying to reach out to her again. This was the second lunch invitation she’d gotten in the last week.

  “Fuck off,” she said under her breath as she ripped the invitation up and tossed it in the garbage.

  She was just trying to get her life back on track. She was letting Terrell back into it one step at a time, and now Nate was giving her problems. The last thing she needed or wanted was to play an active role in being Jonah’s little shameful secret.

  Sherise was in a good mood. She was on her way to her favorite nightclub for a drink with her girls. Most importantly, she was out of the house and she needed to be out of the house. Justin was watching Cady and she would be back soon, but having a drink with her girls made her feel like things used to be when they were all three career women discussing their jobs, their men, their lives.

  She had just stepped out of the cab when she heard her name being called. Expecting to see Billie or Erica, she was surprised to see Ameena Nixon. Ameena Nixon was a member of some of the most powerful social circles of DC. Thirty years old and Ivy League educated, she was a lobbyist like Justin. A native of Oklahoma, she worked for the powerful agriculture conglomerate and had married a rich corn-oil executive, had two kids right away, promptly divorced him, and was living well off her divorce settlement. Last Sherise had heard, she had a twenty-five-year-old Cuban boy toy helping her spend her ex’s money.

  “Sherise Robinson?” Ameena rushed toward her. “What a surprise!”

  Ameena looked attractive in a fitted dark gray midthigh dress with black lace trimmings at the neck and around the waist. Still, Sherise knew she looked better in her Rachel Zoe brown and white print dress. She looked better than most women, which was why they usually avoided her. At least they used to when she not only looked better, but was more successful. Now that she wasn’t a career woman, Sherise had fallen in stature amongst the DC power set, where the rule was that if a woman wanted to be considered top tier, she had to have a family and career.

  “Ameena!” Sherise could see the look of condescension on Ameena’s face before she air-kissed both her cheeks. “So nice to see you.”

  “I had thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth,” Ameena said with a saccharine smile.

  Sherise kept her sweetest smile despite the obvious dig. “No, I’m just as around as I’ve ever been. What about you?”

  “Really?” Ameena feigned confusion. “I haven’t seen you at any recent events. I would have noticed you.”

  It was true that Sherise hadn’t been to as many social events as she usually was. She had gotten tired of being asked what she did or where she’d been. She’d gotten sick of hearing of all the big projects and exciting things people were doing. Politics were like a drug, and it was no fun being the only sober person around a bunch of users.

  “Life has kept me busy,” Sherise said. “I’ve been dipping my hands in a lot of different pies.”

  Ameena looked as if she didn’t believe it for a second. “Well, I know being a mama is taxing work. I have two and they kill me.”

  “I know.” Sherise knew that Ameena was rubbing it in. She was letting her know that she can have the career and two kids, but Sherise could only manage one kid. But all wasn’t lost. “I don’t know what I’d do without my husband. Husbands are life savers, don’t you . . . Oh, never mind.”

  Ameena’s expression temporarily went flat at the dig. “They can be a great help, if you need help. Obviously you do, so it’s worked out great for you.”

  “Everything has,” Sherise said. “I’m really happy.”

  “You look happy,” Ameena responded with a biting tone. “Well, I have to be heading out. I’ve got a cocktail hour at the Capital Hilton. Those foreign dignitar
ies don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  “Have fun,” Sherise said, ending that with “bitch” in her head.

  Ameena took only a few steps before turning back. “You know, in case you’re interested in staying relevant, the Breast Cancer Ball at the White House this October is probably looking for some volunteers. You do have time for charity, don’t you? That’s a big housewives thing, right?”

  Sherise gritted her teeth. “I’ve already been asked about that. I don’t think I’ll have time. I’m so busy with other things.”

  “Of course you are.” Ameena smiled one last time. “Enjoy your evening.”

  If looks could kill, Ameena Nixon would be dead from the daggers in Sherise’s eyes as she watched her walk away. “Fuck that bitch.”

  Was this what her life in DC was going to be? Constantly running into the movers and shakers that made her feel inadequate and useless. She hated feeling old and unwanted at twenty-eight. This was wrong. It wasn’t working. She had to do something.

  Billie looked down at her watch. Of course both of them were late. She was the only one who was on time, and she was the one with the least amount of time available. She had already turned down two offers to dance, wondering who these fools were that wanted to dance at a club at seven P.M. Besides, none of these boys looked a day over twenty-one. As long as she looked like a single girl at the club alone, she was going to be a prime target for every loser in the place.

  “Hello.”

  Billie sighed as she turned around, ready to turn down another poor boy. That was until she realized who was standing beside her.

  “Porter, what are you doing here?”

  Porter Hass looked like a handsome model one might find on the cover of a men’s magazine. He was always sharply dressed, and his hair was always trimmed tightly to his head. He was six feet tall, but his deep voice gave him a presence that made him seem taller. He had milk chocolate skin and a finely shaven goatee surrounding his full lips. His most compelling feature was his black, mesmerizing eyes that, at the moment, bore into Billie, making her feel like he was looking inside of her. Billie hadn’t seen him in a couple of months and she was instantly reminded of how attractive he was. Damn him.

  “This is my club,” he answered, helping himself to the seat next to her at the little corner table she had acquired.

  “Your club?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

  “I’m the one who introduced you to this place.”

  He looked her up and down, noticing her hair, cut short to her head, was sleek and sexy and her glowing dark chocolate skin was flattered by the peach color of her maxi dress.

  “You look great, Billie.”

  “Porter, I’m waiting for Sherise and Erica. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now.”

  “I just wanted to say hello.” He softened his voice. “It would be rude not to.”

  “Okay,” she said. “You said hello and I’m saying hello back. Now go.”

  He shook his head, waving away a waitress that came to take his drink order. “Damn, Billie. You’re so cold. You used to be so . . .”

  “Nice? Sweet? Kind? Yeah, all those things you used to take advantage of to keep me falling into your bed even though you cheated on me.”

  Porter frowned. “You made your own choices, Billie.”

  Billie couldn’t completely disagree with that. When she had found out that Porter was having an affair with a twenty-three-year-old blond associate at his firm, Claire, she made the choice to end their marriage. He begged her for another chance, but she wasn’t hearing it. Even though she had been ignoring it, they had been having problems for some time before that.

  When they’d first met in law school, they both had the same goal. Coming from poor backgrounds, they wanted to fight power and be a voice for the voiceless. When Porter let himself get seduced by the power of money and influence, he changed teams, and he and Billie had clashed often about that. But she had always been willing to work on it because she loved him and she loved his teenaged daughter, Tara. But Claire was something she could not get past.

  While Billie tried to be civil and fair, Porter used dirty-handed tricks and all the influence he had to get the advantage in the divorce. Despite all of that, even after he slapped her in the face by allowing Claire to move in with him as his official girlfriend, Billie hadn’t been able to resist Porter’s seductions. Their sex life had been amazing from day one, and although she tried over and over again, when he came to her, they almost always ended up in bed. He had tried to keep her in his life—have his cake and eat it, too. He even used her affection for Tara to keep her in his bed. But finally, she had broken free of his hold.

  She could look at him now and find him attractive, but not want him. It was a victorious feeling even though she still regretted that their marriage hadn’t worked. But she knew she’d made the right choice. Billie didn’t believe a marriage could exist without trust, and she did not believe Porter would never cheat on her again.

  “I miss you,” he said. “I know you miss me.”

  “I don’t,” she answered bluntly.

  Porter frowned again. “You know, I’m the one who should be angry here. You damn near destroyed my life last year.”

  Billie could only laugh. “You got what you deserved. All your threats and games led to that. It’s so like you to play the victim. Just go away, Porter.”

  “Look, I’m not mad at you,” he said. “I forgive you.”

  Billie rolled her eyes. This man.

  “I want us to move on,” he said. “It would be best for Tara if—”

  Billie leaned forward so quick she startled him. She pointed her finger in his face. “What did I tell you? I told you to never, ever use her against me again. I could still harm your career, Porter. I have enough dirt on you to get you disbarred.”

  “I broke up with Claire.”

  This was unexpected enough to catch Billie off guard. This was news. Did she care? No? Yes? What should she feel? When she’d found out that Claire had moved in with him, Billie was livid. When she’d thought that he was going to marry Claire, Billie lost her head and almost got arrested after attacking Claire. But now, it was over? Was that even true?

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

  She smiled, realizing this was the truth. She wouldn’t lie and say she wasn’t happy that Claire wasn’t going to get to keep him, but, no, she didn’t care.

  “How can you say that?” Porter asked, seeming hurt by her reaction.

  “I just did,” Billie said. “It is over between us, Porter. It has nothing to do with Claire or anything else.”

  “I don’t believe that. I can’t. You aren’t over me and I’m not—”

  “Your arrogance is disgusting,” Billie said. “Porter, I think you need to know something.”

  “What?” He scooted closer in his chair with an eager smile.

  “I’ve started the process to legally change my name back to Carter.” She waited as his expression changed from bewilderment to anger to hurt. “Sorry, but you need to know that I’ve been using Carter professionally for a while, and legally it—”

  “You made a name for yourself in the legal profession as Billie Hass,” he said, his frustration visibly building. “If you change it . . .”

  “I haven’t been a lawyer that long,” she said. “I think it’s important I take my name back. We weren’t married very long and—”

  “It’s Tara’s name,” he interrupted. “You’re her . . . You’re like her mother.”

  This made Billie pause for a second, but she quickly composed herself. “Tara is the only reason I’ve kept the name this long, but I have to do this. I am doing it. You know now.”

  Porter looked like a little boy who had just been scolded. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but had nothing to say. This was a first.

  “What in the fuck are you doing here?” Sherise asked the second she showed up. She was looking down at
Porter as if she was two seconds from kicking him out of that chair.

  Porter sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m having a private conversation with—”

  “No, you’re not,” Billie said. “Good-bye, Porter. I warned you she was coming.”

  “I’m not afraid of Sherise,” he said, standing up.

  “But I see your bitch ass is leaving, isn’t it?” she asked, placing a sassy hand on her hip.

  “Fuck you, Sherise.” Porter’s expression of disgust turned to pain as he looked from Sherise to Billie. “We need to talk later.”

  “No, you don’t,” Sherise said.

  “Shut up,” he snapped at her, but Sherise just laughed in response, making him angrier.

  He stormed off and Billie felt herself sigh in relief.

  “What was he doing here?” Sherise asked.

  “It’s a public place,” Billie said. “Just ignore him.”

  Sherise sat down next to Billie and studied her face. “Are you okay?”

  Billie smiled and nodded. “I told him about my name change.”

  “Let me guess,” she said. “He tried to talk you out of it.”

  Billie nodded. “He even tried to use Tara, as usual.”

  “You shut him down?” Sherise smiled, hitting Billie in the arm. “Look at you, girl. I’m so proud. Our little girl is all grown up and busting balls.”

  2

  Erica was just a few seconds from the front door to the club when her phone rang. Looking down at the phone, she saw that it was Terrell and, with a smile, she picked it up.

  “Where you at, girl?” he asked.

  “I’m on my way to meet my girls.” Erica moved to the edge of the sidewalk away from the crowd. “What about you?”

  “I’m doing what I’m always doing,” he answered. “Making that money. I’m waiting for some clients to come down from their place. I’m taking them to the Kennedy Center.”