I hung up, feeling more comforted after my conversation with Quincy. I could cross Ethan off the list of things I needed to worry about. That was a good thing, since I had such a huge weekend ahead of me. My Vegas restaurants were having their grand openings, and Chanel and I were heading up there in just a few hours.
“Who was on the phone?” Chanel questioned around a yawn as she emerged from the bathroom. I licked my lips at the sight of her wrapped in only a towel, her skin glistening from the coconut oil she used after getting out of the shower.
“You’re tired?” I asked, frowning. She’d seemed sluggish lately.
She waved her hand. “I’m fine. Just the extra hours at work.”
“Come here.” My voice came out deeper than usual. When she was within arm’s distance, I pulled her onto my lap, inhaling the fresh scent of the body wash she used. “That was a security expert and private investigator I hired.”
“Security expert? Why?” She pulled back, looking worried.
“Everything’s fine. I hired Quincy after I found out the truth about your ex.”
Her brows wrinkled.
“You remember what I told you about my aunt, right?”
“Of course.”
“Yeah, so, I wasn’t going to let a man hurt another woman I loved. Even though we were going through our separation or whatever. I hired Quincy to track him down and figure out his motives.”
“And?”
“When you left, he went off the deep end for a while. Drinking and gambling, using and abusing women. Ended up in a treatment facility and it took time, but it seems he got clean and has been living off his trust fund, freelancing work and selling furniture. Bouncing back and forth between the states and Central America. Quincy says his apology was probably part of his recovery treatment.”
“And what was he doing in Miami?”
I shrugged. “He happened to be staying there at the time, according to Quincy. Came into the club because one of his clients was there, but ran into me instead. Anyway, it wasn’t intentional on his part.”
“So, do you regret what you did to him?”
“Hell, no.” I looked at her like she was crazy. “I can’t even guarantee that I wouldn’t do the same shit again if we came across one another. But now I feel a little less worried, knowing he’s not trying to fuck with you.”
Chanel cupped the sides of my face. “I love you,” she whispered against my lips. “Now, we can forget about him and focus on your big weekend.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She yelped when I flipped her onto her back on the bed and straddled her. “Nooo,” she yelled and swatted my hand away when I tried to unwrap her towel. “We have to finish packing and leave to catch our flight. We don’t have time for that.”
“I’ll be quick,” I moaned, nuzzling her ear.
“No! You’re never quick, and we don’t have time. Put your shirt on and get the coffee I started for you in the kitchen. It’s probably cold by now.”
I groaned like a schoolboy, deprived of his daily milk and cookies, causing her to giggle.
“We can get to that later. I promise. Go.”
I sucked my teeth as I rose, knowing she was right. We had less than twenty minutes until our driver was supposed to be picking us up. I was only half-dressed and she’d just gotten out of the shower, plus not everything we needed was packed. We were taking extra luggage since we’d be in Vegas for five days, and then we were flying back to Houston only to head straight to Galveston to meet our weeklong cruise. I’d asked a few of my managers if they wanted the tickets but all had plans. Then I forgot about them for awhile until my mother reminded me. After our therapy session, I brought up the cruise to Chanel, and she agreed, so I called and had the tickets upgraded and booked our trip.
The truth is, I needed it too. The cruise would be one trip that was not work-related. And Chanel had already made me promise not to bring more than my cell phone and tablet in case of emergencies. I, in turn, made her promise the same thing. Try as she might, I knew I wasn’t the only one who could let work consume me.
“You ready?” I asked on the kitchen intercom, pressing the button for our bedroom.
“Yeah, I’ll just bring down my—”
“You’ll leave it right there and bring your ass down these steps. Either the driver or I will get the bags.” I released the button, shaking my head. She knew better than that.
I heard footsteps making their way to the kitchen. She rounded the hallways and gave me a mean mug.
