Breaking All My Rules (20 page)

Chapter 27

J
erome was standing at the counter in the Foot Locker athletic store, purchasing a new pair of shoes for his son, when Jamel's buzzing phone cut their afternoon visit short.

“Dad, the fellas just texted me. They want to ball. Can I go?” Jamel asked.

“So now that you're a teenager, you don't have time for your old man anymore? I'm just good for buying you stuff, huh?” Jerome teased.

“It's not like that, Dad. The fellas are ballin' hard today, and the court is gonna be packed.”

Jerome looked at his handsome, five-foot-ten-inch son, who looked just like him, save for the tawny brown complexion he'd inherited from his mother. At times, he was still in awe that he'd been blessed with a gift as precious as Jamel. He was Jerome's pride and joy, the one thing he could say he'd gotten completely right in life. He knew that in a few years Jamel's brains, combined with his athletic ability, would no doubt net him a full ride to any university of his choice. And in the meantime, Jerome planned to make sure that his son avoided the pitfalls and potholes that had nearly sunk him during his youth.

“What court are y'all playing on?” Jerome asked.

“Columbia Heights.”

Jerome detected a hint of bashfulness streak across Jamel's face, and he knew what had brought about that look. He also knew why his son was so eager to play ball on the other side of town, in Columbia Heights. The boy's nose was wide open, smelling behind Tiffany, the pretty young girl who'd had him grinning like a fool last weekend, when she'd shown up at his birthday party with a pack of giggling girls. Jerome remembered Kelisha telling him about Tiffany, and that the girl lived in Columbia Heights.

Jerome had been talking to his son about sex since the day Jamel turned eleven and had told him that babies were made when a man and a woman hugged real hard late at night. Right then Jerome knew it was his responsibility to school his son in the facts, rather than have him learn the wrong things from his clueless peers. He'd explained that in a few years, puberty would come. “Your body will change, your voice will deepen, hair will grow, and you'll experience erections. It's all part of becoming a man,” he'd told Jamel. “And if you ever have any questions, I want you to come straight to me, all right?”

As Jerome navigated his truck down the busy street, headed toward the recreation center, he glanced over at his son, who looked more like eighteen than thirteen, and knew it was time for another talk. He found a parking space on the street adjacent to the building, turned off the engine, and began. “Is that girl you like gonna be here?”

Jamel looked embarrassed.
“Dad!”

“Boy, don't
Dad
me. I know you breakin' your neck to get in there because that girl from your party last week lives right around the corner.”

“Okay, yeah, she's gonna be here.”

“You like her?”

“She's cool.”

“Tell me why you think she's cool?”

Jamel unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face his father. “Is this gonna be another one of those talks? I already know about sex.”

“I know you do. So let's keep it one hundred. Right now your body is filled with urges that you're curious about exploring. Have you had sex yet?”

Jamel looked down at the floorboard. “Kind of.”

“There's no such thing as kind of having sex. You've either put your penis into a girl's vagina or you haven't. So are you talking oral?”

Jamel hesitated.

“Son, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm talking to you about this because I want to prepare you with the knowledge to make good decisions, and I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did.” Jerome broke the ice by recounting an awkward moment he'd had when he was Jamel's age, and the consequences that had followed.

“Jamel, your grandfather wasn't in my life when I was growing up, so I didn't have anyone to talk to me like I'm talking to you. I had to learn the hard way, in the streets, from guys who didn't know much more than I did. Having sex is a big deal, and it comes with a lot of responsibility. It's not just about the good feeling you get from the act. You have to protect yourself and make smart choices.”

“I understand, Dad.”

“Do you have condoms?”

“Yeah. Rob's brother hooked me up with some last week, but I haven't used them.”

Jerome knew that his son had left the word
yet
off the end of his sentence. The next phase of their conversation was going to require more time than they had right now, parked on the street. “All right, Jamel. Make sure you're ready to go at five on the dot, when your mother comes to get you, and don't make her wait.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, son, I want you to remember that you can come to me anytime, with any question about anything. Now, go play ball, and we'll continue this conversation tomorrow.”

As Jerome watched Jamel bounce into the building, he thought about how differently his conversation might have gone had his son been a daughter. Females were a whole other headache and mystery to him, and it made him think of Erica.

He'd been mad as hell as soon as he realized that Erica had received flowers from her ex, and to know that she'd been in communication with the man had nearly sent him over the edge. But when she looked into his eyes and explained that she had no interest in rekindling that old flame, he believed her, because he had no other choice. Not only had her eyes told the truth, but his gut had confirmed it, too. But even with the double vote of confidence, Jerome still felt uneasy, because he knew his relationship with Erica was either going to lift him up or drive him crazy.

 

 

It was late afternoon as Erica sat behind her large desk in her home office, still wearing her robe from this morning. She was combing through paperwork, getting things prepared for the week ahead. But try as she might, she couldn't focus on the spreadsheet in front of her. All she could think about was Jerome and the near-disastrous hurdle they'd tackled.

She needed to talk things out, so she called Ashley. Within five minutes she carefully explained the situation to her friend.

“I can't believe Claude had the nerve to send flowers to my home!” Erica fumed into the phone. “I haven't heard from him in months, and now that I've moved on and found someone wonderful, he reappears from out of nowhere to cause trouble.”

“Girl, that's how Satan works. Busy as hell wreaking havoc.”

“You can say that again. But I'm not going to let him mess up things between Jerome and me.”

“So you really like this guy, don't you?”

Erica pushed away from her desk and took a seat on the comfy sofa on the other side of the room. “Yeah, I really do, Ash. I know you're skeptical about him, but once you meet Jerome, you'll see why I'm so crazy about him.”

“I'm just trying to look out for you, that's all. But really, it doesn't matter what I think as long as you're happy.”

“And I finally am!” Erica beamed. “Now I know how you feel when you talk about Jason.”

“Humph.”

Erica was surprised by Ashley's flat response. “What is that about? You and Jason haven't worked things out yet?”

“The wicked bitch from Vegas flew in on her broom today, so guess who has to work tonight, and guess who has to show up at Nelson's party solo, and guess who's pissed as hell?”

“Oh, no. I'm so sorry.”

“But wait. It gets even better. His parents are still coming, so now I'll have to deal with them on my own.”

“I didn't know they planned to attend. I guess that's not so good for you, but it's great for Nelson. Tell them to bring their checkbook. This
is
a kickoff fund-raiser, of course.”

“Oh, don't worry. Mr. and Mrs. Butterfield are gonna lay down some serious cash tonight. His father is already thinking about the influence he'll have on city contract bids if Nelson gets elected. Strategic, honey!”

“Wow, shrewd.”

“You know?”

“It's really too bad Jason can't come. I thought he dropped that woman as a client.”

“No, he didn't. Danni Stevens wants to stick around for more than just this deal. Trust me on that. And Jason said the money is so crazy, he'd be shooting himself in the foot if he dropped everything now. This one deal is three times my yearly salary.”

“Damn. Why does everything always come down to money?”

Ashley laughed. “ 'Cause, my dear, in case you haven't heard, it makes the world go round.”

“I thought that was love.”

“There's no romance without finance. And that's for real!”

Ashley's statement made Erica think about Jerome. He'd made references to money and status, and the fact that he had neither. He didn't have material wealth, but he made her feel rich and full and loved. The truth of what she'd just realized hit Erica like a bag full of bricks. She rose from the sofa and walked into her bedroom, barely listening as Ashley ranted on. She sat on the edge of her bed and smiled, because in that moment, she knew she loved Jerome.

“Maybe this is just another sign that Jason and I need to put the brakes on things,” Ashley said, snapping Erica out of her thoughts.

“You mean call off the wedding?”

“I mean put a pause on it for now and reevaluate what we really want. We're both having doubts.”

“That's normal. This is a big, life-altering step you're about to make. Marriage is a serious commitment.”

“Exactly, and if we're having problems and doubts before we say ‘I do,' it only goes downhill from there. Plus, when you throw temptation into the mix . . . I just don't know.”

“How much longer does he have to work on that heifer's project?”

“Another month or so, but who knows? At this point, well, like I said, I just don't know.”

“One thing I do know is that the love is there, and if you two really want this, you'll find a way to make it work.”

“Girl, the flesh is weak, and once that breaks down, all bets are off.”

From the tone in Ashley's voice, Erica wasn't sure if her friend was talking about Jason or herself. But at this point she decided not to ask any more questions or make further comments, because she was there to listen, which was what she knew Ashley needed at the moment.

The two talked for a few more minutes, discussing what they were each going to wear to the event tonight. After Erica hung up the phone, she walked to her master bathroom to start getting ready. As she turned on the shower and stepped inside, she thought about Claude and what his real intentions might be. She knew whatever he was up to, it wasn't any good, and she prayed that today would be the last time she'd hear from him. But as she lathered up her netted sponge, she had a sinking feeling that it was just the beginning.

Chapter 28

A
ll her life, Erica had been punctual, if not ahead of time. It was a habit handed down to her by her father. His philosophy was simple. If you were ten minutes early, you were right on time; five minutes early meant you were pushing it; and an on-time arrival meant you were already late! So when Jerome showed up at her door one hour and fifteen minutes after he was supposed to have picked her up, Erica was beside herself.

When they'd spoken that afternoon, she had impressed upon him how important it was that they arrive early, especially since all her family would be there. This was a huge moment for her brother and for the entire Stanford clan. A sprawling ballroom in the Ritz-Carlton Hotel had been rented out for the event. Elected officials, prominent business executives, community activists, local celebrities, and big money donors would all be in attendance. One of the local news stations was even sending out a camera crew to film the festivities for the weekend evening broadcast.

When Jerome didn't show up early, she wasn't surprised, because she knew he was time challenged. When he was fifteen minutes late, she was irritated, but not too upset. She dialed his phone at the half-hour mark and started to simmer when her call went straight to his voice mail. When forty-five minutes rolled around, she received calls from her aunt Lucile, her mother, and Ashley, each inquiring as to her whereabouts. She'd told them that she'd run into a bit of a problem at work, and that she'd be there shortly. After another fifteen minutes passed, Jerome was officially one hour late, and her simmer escalated into a boil. She grabbed her keys in frustration and was about to head out the door when he called, letting her know he was a few minutes away.

“I'm sorry about running late,” Jerome said as they drove down the congested street, headed toward downtown. “I took a nap and overslept. The battery died on my phone, so I charged it and never heard your call. When I realized the time, I showered, got dressed, and rushed here as soon as I could.”

All his explaining was falling on deaf ears. Erica didn't want to hear excuses unless they could magically whisk them into the Ritz-Carlton's ballroom that very minute. Luckily, the traffic fairies had sprinkled dust on the busy Saturday night streets and had cleared a path that got them to the hotel in under ten minutes. After Jerome handed the valet his keys, he and Erica walked into the lobby.

She smoothed down the front of her sleek, above-the-knee-length black sheath dress as they marched side by side toward the ballroom. She tried to calm herself with each step she took, but she was still upset. This was an important event, and she felt that Jerome had been inconsiderate, treating her brother's campaign kickoff as if it were a neighborhood barbecue, casually showing up anytime he liked.

“You didn't say two words the whole time we were in the car,” Jerome said. “You still mad at me?”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“All right. But can I say one thing?”

She glanced at him, never missing a step as they turned down the hallway. She could already hear music and applause coming from the room at the end of the hall, where they were supposed to have been an hour ago. “Sure. What is it?” she said, mild irritation coating her voice.

“Your fine ass is sexy as hell, even when you're mad.”

Erica couldn't help but shake her head and smile as Jerome looked at her with lust in his eyes. He took her hand in his, and they strutted into the room just as Nelson was walking up to the microphone to give his speech.

 

 

Erica had never been more proud of her brother. Nelson's speech was eloquent, heartfelt, substantive, and honest, everything a politician's promise to their constituents should be, and the rousing applause that erupted throughout the room was evidence that everyone in attendance agreed.

Smooth jazz hummed in the background as Nelson made his way through the crowd of well-heeled professionals. Erica watched her brother in his element: shaking hands, giving hugs, and posing in front of dozens of cameras that flashed like shooting stars. Tonight's event seemed more like a victory celebration than a campaign kickoff. Nelson was a natural.

“Your brother did a great job. He's very impressive,” Jerome complimented.

Erica didn't want to spend the remainder of the evening being mad, especially since they'd successfully recovered from their argument earlier that morning. Besides, they planned to go back to her place and spend the rest of the evening making love, and a sour attitude would make that hard to do. So she shed her disappointment, letting it fall away as her lips formed a smile.

“Yes, I'm very proud of him. He's going to make a great councilman.”

“Baby, I apologize again. I didn't mean to make us late.”

Erica lowered her voice and gave him a sly smile and a wink. “It's okay. You'll just have to make it up to me.”

Jerome looked into her eyes and grinned. “What do you have in mind?”

Just as Erica was about to whisper a naughty request into his ear, her parents came walking up.

Maureen and Joseph Stanford were all smiles as they approached, cocktails in hand. They were a handsome, silver-haired couple who carried an old-money look that was steeped in style and sophistication. One glance at Joseph's custom-tailored suit and Maureen's couture dress was all it took to know they were people of a certain class.

Erica greeted her parents, embracing and gently touching cheeks with her mother, so as not to smudge the make-up of either of them, then shared a hug with her father. But right away she sensed that something was amiss. Although they were smiling, she felt an uncomfortable strain between them.

It was no secret to Erica that her parents had experienced their share of marital woes, largely due to her father's promiscuous behavior during his younger years. But age and wisdom had slowed him down. These days he was tame as a house pet and he and Maureen hardly ever argued. And on the rare occasions when they were at odds, they still put on a good face in public. But not tonight. It was as if they were standing miles apart rather than the few inches that separated them.

“Is everything all right with you two?” Erica asked.

Her mother lifted her manicured hand, sweeping an uncooperative strand of her chin-length bob away from her dainty brown eyes. “Yes, um, your father and I were worried you wouldn't make it.”

Erica looked at her parents closely. Although her mother was the epitome of grace and beauty, her always perfectly coiffed hair was slightly mussed and her eyes looked tired, like she could use another eight hours in bed. And she noticed that her normally attentive father appeared to be concentrating on something far away. Erica remembered that he'd sounded preoccupied yesterday, when she'd shared the good news with him about her product design. She knew he was a focus-driven man, and his current behavior was a clear indication that something was wrong.

But Erica had to push her worries to the side because no matter her parents' problem, Maureen and Joseph were now eyeing the man standing close by her side, waiting for an introduction.

“Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet my friend, Jerome Kimbrough,” Erica said.

Pleasantries were exchanged, along with cordial smiles. Erica could see that her mother approved of

Jerome's
Ebony
centerfold good looks. Even though he had dressed in a rush and had shown up late, his striking sex appeal was right on time. He looked scrumptious, with white teeth sparkling, bald head gleaming, and taut muscles bulging beneath his wool-blend blazer; Erica wanted to take a bite out of him.

She was surprised when she saw her mother actually blush as Jerome greeted her, and was glad to see her father smile at him with cursory approval.

So far so good!
Erica breathed with relief. Until now, it hadn't occurred to her how much she wanted her parents to approve of Jerome, especially after what he'd told her this morning. She'd never had that worry in the past, because all her other boyfriends had come draped in Brooks Brothers, and boasted blue-chip résumés. Fortunately, she saw more good signs of Joseph's and Maureen's approval—the smile her father gave when Jerome offered him a firm handshake, and the respect on both men's faces when they looked each other in the eyes as they spoke. But when Erica saw her father glance down at Jerome's bare wrist and exhibit a glint of disapproval, she felt a small disappointment of her own.

After more pleasantries were exchanged, her parents' interrogation began. Erica was grateful for the backdrop of a crowded room filled with music, because it served to soften the blow of the tense moment as Maureen and Joseph asked Jerome question after question.

“Did you say city
sanitation?
” Erica's mother asked. A long vein strained at the base of her slender neck as her eyes widened at Jerome's words.

“
GED?
As in a high school equivalency?” her father said, squinting his eyes.

Erica practically gulped down her glass of merlot to keep her nerves in check. Although Jerome had told them he was working to start his own business, the only details her parents seemed to hold on to were that he was a trashman who'd dropped out of high school. Their barrage of background questions—which were mainly directed at finding out what he did, instead of discovering who he was—made Erica feel defensive and protective, and she wondered what Jerome must be thinking at the moment.

He was right. Her parents were going to have private words for her about her budding new relationship, and the thought made her mood sink low. She was glad when Nelson's diminutive, no-nonsense campaign manager came charging up, rushing her parents to the front of the room for a photo op with her brother.

“Your folks are real nice,” Jerome said once they were standing alone.

“I'm sorry they were so intrusive with all their questions. I appreciate you tolerating their behavior.”

Jerome smiled. “It's all right. They're your parents, and they want the best for you. I'd be the same way if I had a daughter and I met the man she was dating.”

Erica knew that Jerome was well aware of her parents' particular bias, and she was thankful that he was kind enough to step over their prodding and obvious disapproval of his lack of pedigree. Luckily, as the evening wore on, her other family members and friends renewed her spirits by greeting him with lively, accepting well wishes.

“Well, will you look at what the cat dragged in!” Ashley shouted as she sauntered up to Erica, giving her a perfect air kiss. “I'm glad you finally made it. Wasn't Nelson fabulous!”

“Yes, he was.” Erica smiled, glad to see her best friend.

“Your parents are over-the-top proud, too. I was going to come up earlier, but I saw that they had you in the box,” she said with a smile, glancing over at Jerome. “That's legalese to say they were interrogating the hell outta you two.” And in true Ashley Jackson, straight-no-chaser style, she turned to Jerome and began. “I'm Ashley, and you must be Jerome, the man who's making my friend a very happy woman these days.” Ashley grinned mischievously as she gave him a visual inspection.

Erica wanted to laugh when Ashley shot her a “Damn, he's fine!” look. It was a sentiment that had been echoed in the hungry eyes of quite a few women in the room who'd been staring at Jerome. Erica knew she was going to have to stay close tonight, because the piranhas were dressed in Prada.

“Nice to meet you, Ashley,” Jerome said in a polite voice. “I'm the happy one, thanks to Erica.”

Erica, Jerome, and Ashley stood at a skirted bistro table, sipping wine and making small talk. Erica could tell this wasn't Jerome's thing, because he looked bored and ready to go, but she was glad that he was trying for her sake, and it made her want him even more.

“Ash, I forgot to ask you. Where are your parents? I haven't seen them since we got here.”

Ashley took a small sip of wine and pursed her lips. “They both came down with a sudden case of the flu.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” Erica replied with concern. “I hope they feel better soon.”

“Girl, they feel just fine. That was an excuse they made up because they knew Jason and his parents were supposed to be here, and they didn't want to deal with them.”

“Wow!”

Ashley looked at Jerome. “Just in case Erica hasn't filled you in, my fiancé, Jason, is white, and my parents can't stand him.”

Jerome nodded, giving Ashley a look of sympathetic understanding. Erica was glad he didn't let on that he already knew, because she'd told him that tidbit of information during one of their late-night phone calls.

“Jason won't be here, but his parents came,” Ashley said. “And, speak of the devil, here they come right now.”

Erica and Jerome turned to greet Mr. and Mrs. Butterfield, and that was when the real fireworks began.