I exhaled long and hard. Jackson had also inherited his father’s keen sense of discernment. He was a sensible kid. “It’s just that it’s no longer just about me. I have a family to think about.”
Quincy’s and Jackson’s questioning regards crashed into my damn face. They knew me well enough to know I didn’t have family, per se. It was primarily my uncle and me because my mother rarely surfaced. What they didn’t know was that instinctively, I now encompassed Sarah, Michael and Zoey in that family category, and rightfully so, considering the shit I pulled on them. I was barely surviving Michael’s grace and was grateful for Sarah’s mercy. Zoey’s obliviousness to my debauchery was the reason for my sanity. She’d fucking hate me if she knew what I did to her.
“Nah, don’t make them wait. Let’s get this shit over with,” I murmured.
Jackson gave an affirmative nod and headed out of the conference room.
Quincy tossed his chin over to me as he asked, “What’s going on with you and Zoey? Are you two really over?”
It hardly felt like we’d ever had a start, but we were far from over. I’d made sure of that when I pushed her into some shit she had no idea was coming her way. Zoey had no clue of me altering her destiny. I still felt fucked up about it. Outside of Chesney, I didn’t discuss what I did to Zoey in the Caymans with anyone. It’s not exactly coffee table conversation to share you purposely impregnated an adolescent. It sounded repulsive speaking it out loud even to Chesney.
Now that Zoey’s back in school and resumed the track of accomplishing her dreams, I needed to give her space to spread her wings. That morning before I left her house last summer when Jordan was four months old, I passively proposed to her, almost deviating from my original plan. She mentioned being together, but couldn’t define the terms. Zoey wasn’t sure where I’d fit in her life, and that bothered me.
Then it pissed me off when I realized her watching a damn interview of Erika was what motivated her to ask about us being together. That was the first time Zoey resembled “them”—the world at large that saw beyond me and created an image of who they wanted me to be. Zoey didn’t want to be together; she simply didn’t want me with Erika. And that’s where she lost me in making her plea. I knew she needed time. I’d almost slipped on my mission, but that small admittance by her brought lucidity.
I went into my season, returning to that obscure place with her; hardly seeing her when I visited Jordan, barely communicating with her outside of coordinating time with the baby. I haven’t made a big deal about it because her being back in school trumped everything. I’d been moving at her pace.
That brought me here today, to move along in giving Zoey the space she needed to fly without my influence. I decided to move forward with this Erika shit. It was simple for me. I knew I could never be more than a great PR spin for her career, and for me she’d be a good distraction, or cover for my wait for Zoey. Jackson’s joke about falling in love was just that, because I’d already located my soul mate. Zoey fucked me up for everyone else.
“That’s a convoluted answer, bruh,” I finally answered Quincy.
“Just let me know the minute you need to switch gears. I can make the process smooth for you if you keep me in the loop,” he implored.
Then the doorknob clicked, the door opened, and in walked a small group of people, three of whom I recognized. It was Ellis, Erika, and Mehan, Erika’s PR head. Jackson led the visitors to their seats across from Quincy and me, and the room immediately exploded in a miscellany of expensive ass fragrances. As soon as Erika’s sable eyes hit me, they slanted and she smiled sweetly.
“Ladies, welcome. And it’s always a pleasure running into you,” Quincy jumped right in. “As you know, we have reason to celebrate. Stenton Rogers has finally made room in his demanding schedule to date and would like get to know Ms. Erceg, here, a little better.”
Erika covered her glossy pink lips and giggled. Her cheeks turned a shade of maroon. Damn!