Nobody Does It Better. Джулия Кеннер
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held out hope that her few flirtations would have netted her a companion, but Bridget had never been one to let wishful thinking take precedence over her common sense. Bridget was acutely aware of the many statistics that prophesied a black woman’s chances of finding a mate, and they weren’t favorable. The nearness of Darwin Tolliver suddenly had her rethinking her prior convictions and wondering whether or not love was actually a possibility for her. She shook the thought from her mind.
“I’m not wearing anything I wouldn’t wear any other day of the week. If I can accept Darwin not being interested in me, then you two need to, as well.”
Jeneva chuckled. “Who is she trying to convince?” she asked, her voice brimming with amusement. “Us or herself?”
Roshawn laughed with her. “Well, I know I haven’t fallen for it. Sounds just like another excuse to me.”
Bridget sucked in her breath. “I need new friends.”
“New friends, a man and a job. Girlfriend, your need list is growing longer and longer,” Roshawn said. “I need me a few things, too, so when you get yours let me know where you went shopping.”
“Okay, we need to stop, Roshawn. Bridget didn’t call us for a hard time.”
“You got that right,” Bridget said. “So stop being a cow and tell me what to do, heifer!”
“Oh, I got your heifer, heifer!”
Almost an hour later the three women were still talking nonsense over the telephone. And as Roshawn regaled them with a story about her life in Arizona, Bridget couldn’t help but wonder what Darwin might have been doing right then.
A nondescript noise woke him from a sound sleep. For only a quick moment he was dazed and disoriented, his vision still blurred from the deep slumber he’d been wrapped in. Then he remembered that he’d been dreaming, floating blissfully on clouds of visual pleasure.
He’d been dreaming about Bridget. The two of them had been cooking up more than chicken and vegetables in her kitchen. In fact, Bridget had been dessert, the icing on his cake, and he’d been licking every square inch of her spoon. Unfortunately, just when he’d needed his own utensil to function, it didn’t and he’d woken up thoroughly frustrated.
As he lay sprawled across the surface of his king-size bed, he imagined he could still feel her body pressed warmly against his. He even thought he could still smell the delicate scent of her perfume teasing his senses. He inhaled deeply, savoring the moment as he reached a hand down to cup the limp bulge of flesh between his legs. Even in the throes of sleep his body was failing him, not even a quiver or a twitch to boost his manhood.
Darwin slammed a fist against the padded mattress top and swore. Loudly. The profanity pierced through the dark and the silence that filled the space around him. The harshness of it frightened the snow-white Maltese that lay sound asleep at his bedside. The small animal jumped with a low growl, then barked, a series of high-pitched yips crying for some attention. Darwin blew a gust of warm breath past his lips.
“Hush, Biscuit. Stop that noise.”
The tiny bundle of puppy energy stood up on her hind legs, a tiny paw scratching the air for his attention. With one hand he swept all six pounds of fluff up to his side, gently stroking the animal’s head as she struggled to lick his hand and his face.
“No kisses, you. Stop that! Stop, Biscuit!” he said, his pleas a half-hearted attempt at a reprimand.
Ignoring him, Biscuit jumped about, then finally settled down against a pillow on the other side of the bed.
Great, Darwin thought, palming his crotch for a second time before pulling both of his arms up and over his head. Here I am, dreaming of a female in my bed, and the one actually here has four legs and a tail.
As if reading his mind, Biscuit barked again, then settled her head back down against the pillow, her dark eyes eyeing him curiously.
“Don’t you get comfortable,” Darwin said out loud. “Your bed is on the floor, dog.”
Biscuit tilted her head ever so slightly.
Darwin sighed. Bridget had been on his mind since he’d raced out of her home. Although he’d gotten the impression that she wouldn’t have minded him staying longer, his nerves wouldn’t allow it. The woman had had him trembling in his seat as they’d enjoyed dinner and dessert. By the time the meal was finished and the dishes washed, he was a walking time bomb set to explode.
It was one thing to be in a loving relationship with a woman and then become impotent, but it had to be something else altogether to be impotent walking into the relationship. He couldn’t imagine any woman wanting only half a man. He wasn’t about to set himself up for that kind of disappointment and embarrassment. It was best that he just leave any thoughts of him and Bridget alone. “It couldn’t possibly work, could it, Biscuit?” he said softly. He tossed a quick glance over to the animal beside him. His pet barely opened her eyes, quickly resuming her soft snores. Darwin shook his head. Even his dog couldn’t be bothered with the traumas of his love life.
Chapter 5
The downtown production studio where Darwin’s show was being taped was just minutes from the Space Needle in the Seattle Center. It was a new, digital, state-of-the-art facility, and as Bridget eased her Cadillac CTS into an empty parking space, she couldn’t help but be impressed.
A stint in family court had worn on her last nerves that morning. One father’s continuous refusal to pay support for his four children by three different mothers had been more than enough to set her on edge. When the fool had actually accused her of conspiring against him to make points with the prosecutor, she’d been ready to quit on the spot. She’d had enough of representing clients who clearly knew they were wrong and expected her to just overlook their more glaring faults to help them get over on someone else. When the judge had ordered him to be incarcerated pending payment of some thirty thousand dollars in child support arrears, she hadn’t bothered to protest. The man had deserved that and more.
She knew that before the day was over he’d post his cash bond, go right back to his dental practice and be at the firm’s door three months down the road trying to explain why he’d bought a new boat instead of paying little junior’s school tuition. The entire drama had put her one hour behind schedule, and by the end of the court session all she could think about was that she was late for her appointment with Darwin.
A young man who mumbled his name met her in the lobby, gesturing for her to follow behind him. Leading her past a row of immaculately furnished offices, he guided her through a vast warehouse area where an ample supply of props was being stored. Toward the other end of the open room were a series of construction areas where craftsmen were hard at work building elaborate sets. Her guide stopped briefly to tell someone named “Kevin” that he had a date with “Linda” the following night. The two men exchanged pleasantries before he remembered his mission to get Bridget to wherever Darwin was.
They moved down another labyrinth of hallways, past a room labeled as the makeup department and on through the studio’s commissary. The aroma of something spicy tickled her nostrils and Bridget suddenly remembered that she hadn’t eaten since Darwin’s dinner the night before.
When she was adequately lost, her guide ushered her through a closed door and then turned toward her, drawing his index finger up to his lips.
“They’re in the middle of taping. We have to be very quiet,” he whispered, his words rolling over his tongue like marbles across a slick floor.
Bridget nodded, staring toward where he pointed as he eased her over to an open area to stand. Darwin was engaging, and as she stood there watching him, she couldn’t help but smile, a wide grin filling her face.
The man was clearly at ease behind the large counters where he was preparing the meal of the moment. He spoke casually into the camera as if he were having a conversation with an old friend. As he explained the dicing and slicing