Somebody's Gotta Be on Top by Mary B. Morrison

Author:Mary B. Morrison [Morrison, Mary B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2014-12-26T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

Darius had to escape Ciara’s depression and was pleased Ashlee had accompanied him on another trip to San Francisco. Ciara had been breaking up with Solomon, so why was she acting like she’d lost the love of her life when Darius was trying to fill her life with love? Or something like that. The new office furniture had arrived earlier than scheduled, giving him a reason to celebrate his upcoming grand opening.

Darius nudged Ashlee. “Let’s go hang out in the city.”

“No, thanks. I’m tired. I think I’m just going to stay here and relax. Go ahead without me.”

Darius sensed Ashlee’s feelings for him were dwindling. Maybe having her live with him wasn’t a good idea. The late nights. Ciara catching Kimberly in his bed. Fortunately Ciara had blanked out and, with the exception of Solomon’s death, didn’t remember any of the events, including Terrell losing the leading part. Ashlee had witnessed his other women. She wasn’t supposed to experience those situations until after they were married. Darius dabbed on his most expensive cologne and drove to the city.

Darius parked on a hilltop overlooking the Pacific Ocean and walked inside his favorite private club in San Francisco. The hallways were dimly lit, with muscular men in dark suits and sunglasses standing at each of the three doors.

Darius flashed a small gold key and the man in the suit stepped aside. When the door opened, another one opened, then a third double-automatic sliding glass door parted.

“It’s on,” Darius said, heading straight for the platinum room. When the entrance doors parted, Darius was in paradise. He walked over to the bar and greeted the finest woman in the room. Hopefully she had more going for her than her honeydew-melon breasts, a flat stomach, and an apple-bottom ass. There was no need to offer her a drink because all drinks were included with membership.

Standing in her three feet of space, Darius said, “Hi, I’m Darius Jones.”

Sucking on an ice cube, she seductively replied, “I know exactly who you are.”

“Well, I’m at a disadvantage.”

She exhaled cool air in his ear then whispered, “Call me Desire.”

Damn. She had that right. “Are you from this area?”

“Me and my girls,” she nodded toward the opposite end of the bar, “we’re from London.”

With her accent, he’d guessed some part of England. “I’d love to show you the town,” Darius offered.

“I don’t travel without my girls. They’re down for whatever I do.” Then she repeated, “Whatever I do.”

“Cool. Then let me show you and your girls my town.”

“Give us a moment to talk it over. Come back in about thirty minutes.”

“Peace.” Darius decided to see who was in the main lounge. The first person he’d noticed was Fancy. Darius spotted Byron, walked up behind him, and said, “What’s up? Where you been?”

“Man, where’ve you been?” Byron replied.

“Brazil. Okinawa. Amsterdam. Paris. Spain. Trinidad. London,” Darius lied to impress Fancy. Darius was looking to get with a new woman. The truth was Darius had grown tired of visiting Ciara. Monica was family.

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