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Authors: Cheris Hodges

BOOK: Love After War
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“Surely you don't want to talk about how I look.”
“Dana, about this morning, I don't want you to think that spending the night with you had anything to do with that guy. I have a lot to make up for because I hurt you,” he said.
“Adrian, we're not the same people we were two years ago. I'm not here to wiggle my way back into your life. I was hoping to never see you again. You've made it clear that you don't trust me enough to have a significant role in your life. You wouldn't even let me be there for you when your mother died and I know how her passing hurt you.”
Adrian stepped closer to her, his lips inches from her face. She smelled like roses and jasmine. He stroked her cheek and felt her tremble slightly. “When my mother died, I found out some things that I needed to process alone. I was wrong to push you away, but I didn't know what else to do.”
She shrugged away from him. “There you go with that ‘I needed to be alone' crap again. If you need all of this solitude, then why pretend that you want to make up for what you did to me? You keep parts of yourself wrapped up and hidden away and I can't—won't—deal with that.”
Adrian drew her into his arms and she didn't resist his embrace. That was a good sign, he surmised. “It's complicated and I don't want you to be a part of . . .”
“Of what? If you can't be open with me, then stop calling me. Stop playing with my heart when you know I—”
“Dana, I've never stopped loving you and if you'd give me another chance—”
“To hurt me again? I don't think so.” She slapped his arms away. “All or nothing. That's how it has to be.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. Would she want to stay if she knew it all? Would she want to have anything to do with him if she knew he'd spent the last two years planning the demise of the people she worked for? “I want to give you ever ything,” he said. “But—”
“No buts,” she snapped as she pushed him in his chest. “Why am I such a fool when it comes to you?”
“You're nobody's fool. Dana, my life changed when my mother died. She told me the man who I thought was my father wasn't. The man who donated his sperm ignored me all my life, ignored my mother, but when she took her last breath, he was on her mind.”
“Adrian.”
“My head hasn't been right since then.” He dropped his head and Dana cupped his cheek. Her tender touch offered him the soft comfort that he'd missed since she'd been gone. The kind of gentleness he needed to keep his heart from turning into a block of ice.
“I'm sorry.”
“So am I. It doesn't make up for how I treated you and what you saw that night. I knew I had to find this man and I know it isn't going to be pretty when I do. That's what I wanted to keep you away from.” The half-truth burned his tongue. He didn't want to put her in the middle of this family war. That's why he'd been so over the top in their breakup. Too bad he'd done such a good job of making her hate him.
“Adrian, I wish I could—”
He brushed his lips against hers. “I need you. Need you to be that light in my life, something good.”
“Adrian.”
“Please. The biggest mistake I ever made was allowing you to walk out of my penthouse that night thinking I was some cold bastard. I thought I could do this and not look back, but seeing you here again and being with you, I know I can't live without you.”
Dana leaned in and kissed him slow, deep, and long as if she was answering him with her hot tongue. If he was right, her answer was yes. Pulling her closer, he relished the feel of her body against his, though in the back of his mind, Adrian wondered if the truth would destroy not only the Crawford family, but also his tentative reunion with Dana.
Chapter 8
Dana stood there looking into Adrian's eyes, not knowing what she was seeing, but she knew there was still a struggle going on inside him.
He stroked her cheek gently and smiled. His eyes didn't match his lips, though, and Dana saw that. And when she started to call him on it, Adrian took her hand in his and kissed it. “You look worried.”
“I am,” she whispered. “Is there something you're not telling me?”
There was a lot Adrian wasn't telling her and he wished that he could tell her everything. But not until she finished her work with those people. He kissed the back of her hand. “No.” Leaning in, Adrian gave her earlobe a quick nibble. “Do you have to go to that premiere?”
Dana looked at her watch and cursed under her breath. “I have to go,” she said.
“Let me drive you because—”
“I got here on my own, didn't I? We're not starting that ‘your bike is too dangerous' stuff again.”
Adrian threw his hands up. “But let me just say this. It's an unnecessary risk when you had—”
“Somebody stole it.”
“Not hard to do when someone left the keys in the car.”
Dana stopped in her tracks. “You found the car?”
“I was looking for you. There was GPS on the car and I called the company. When I got the location, I thought something was wrong.”
Dana snorted. “Oh, something was wrong.”
“Besides that,” he said. “I thought you were in danger, had been carjacked or something worse.”
“I had a broken heart at the time. A carjacker wouldn't have stood a chance that night.”
Adrian heard the pain behind her attempt at humor and wished that he could take that night back and tell her about the hell he'd been going through and the pain he'd been feeling at that moment . . . but he'd chosen revenge instead. Would his desire to ruin his father cost him the love of his life?
Adrian knew at that moment he should've told her everything. But how would she react to the underhanded things he had planned? Knowing Dana, she'd try to talk him out of it.
“That car is still yours, babe,” he finally said.
She rolled her eyes, knowing where this conversation was going. “Adrian.”
“I'm done. Ride your motorcycle. Just be safe. I don't want to lose you.”
She smoothed her hand across his cheek. “If you play your cards right, maybe you'll have me again.”
He drew her into his arms. “You're mine. As the song goes, once mine, always my—”
Dana placed her hand over his mouth. “And when's the last time anyone heard from Sam Salter? Remember that.”
Adrian kissed her hand as her cell phone began to chime. “That's Imani. I have to get this.” Dana clicked the ANSWER key and before she could say hello, she was bombarded with questions.
“Dana, where are you? I mean seriously, do you know what time it is? Ian is waiting for you. And thank God he's going to ride in the limo and not on that motorcycle that you love so much.”
“Imani, I'm on my way.”
“From where?”
“The longer I talk to you, the later I'm going to be.”
“Okay. Just get here, safely.”
Dana clicked the phone off and turned to Adrian. “I have to go.”
“You know, I have passes for that screening as well. Why don't we go together?”
She shook her head no. Adrian furrowed his brow. “Why not?”
“Because,” she said as she walked over to her bike. “I have a date.”
As she hopped on her Harley and slapped her helmet on her head, she heard him call out, “With Hollywood Ken?” Ignoring him, she started her bike and headed to the hotel.
As Adrian watched Dana ride away, he felt the old feelings of dread. His biggest fear about Dana on that or any other motorcycle had always been an accident. At least there was a little bit of protection in a car. Closing his eyes, he tried to shake the image of her broken body on the side of Santa Monica Boulevard. He didn't want to think about her being with Ian either. But he was pretty confident that she wasn't very serious about him. And if Ian Kelly had real feelings for Dana, then he'd better get ready to have his heartbroken. Adrian started for his car when his cell phone rang. Looking down at the number, he frowned, realizing that it was his father.
“What?”
“Adrian,” Elliot said. “We need to talk, just you and me.”
“Now is not a good time. I have plans.”
“I won't take up too much of your time. I just happen to be inside the Starbucks you're standing in front of.”
Adrian turned around and saw the older man sitting at a table. When their eyes met, Elliot lifted his paper cup in acknowledgment. Clicking his phone off and shoving it into his pocket, Adrian crossed over to the man he considered his sperm donor.
“Talk,” he said as he stood in front of the table.
“Have a seat.”
Adrian narrowed his eyes into snakelike slits.
“Please,” Elliot said calmly. “There's a lot to say.”
“You said you wouldn't take much of my time, so let's get it done.” Adrian grabbed the chair, turned it backward, and straddled it.
“Please understand that I loved your mother.”
“Bullsh—”
Elliot held up his hand and closed his eyes. “Pamela was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen and she was tender, sweet, and creative. She was the woman I should've married.”
“But you were married when you met her. It's not as if she had a choice. She couldn't be with you because you'd already chosen someone else.”
He nodded. “And as cliché as it sounds, my marriage wasn't a happy one. We'd just opened our first hotel in New York and Pamela walked in applying for a job. She reminded me of Pam Grier, that big afro made her stand out in the crowd. She could've been a model. But when she opened her mouth and started talking, she was just as smart as she was she was beautiful.”
“That was your thing, preying on young women looking for jobs because your wife wasn't giving you what you wanted?” Adrian snipped.
Elliot sipped his drink slowly. “It wasn't like that.” He set his cup on the table and stared at Adrian. “Pamela was brilliant and treated me like a man. She was the backbone of that Harlem hotel. And she laid the framework for all of this—this Crawford empire. I wished for so many years that I could've shared this with her.”
Adrian's jaw was so tight that he thought it would snap. “But you didn't have the balls to leave your perfect little family. Now you want the world to know how amazingly you mixed business and family?”
“I would've lost everything if I had.”
“But it was okay for my mother to lose everything and raise me alone? Freaking father of the decade.”
“If I was penniless, how was I going to take care of you and your mother? Cynthia knew I loved Pamela, but when she found out that she was having my baby, I had to make a decision.”
“You made the wrong one.” Adrian leaped from his seat. “And I'm going to ensure that you recognize that.” He stormed out of the coffee shop, stronger in his resolve to destroy his father.
 
 
Dana pulled her motorcycle up beside the limo, which Imani and Raymond were going to head to the Dolby Theatre in. When Imani spotted her, she hopped out of the car and crossed over to her. “Thank God you have dreads, because you would have helmet hair on the red carpet. No one wants to see that. And God forbid you end up on
Fashion Police
with Joan Rivers. That woman is so vile.”
“Hello to you too,” Dana said to her friend. “I thought I was late.”
Imani shrugged and batted her eyelashes. “I figured if you thought you were late, you'd leave your—wherever you were—sooner. Where were you again?”
“At Starbucks. Where's Ian?”
Imani tilted her head toward the hotel. “Having a drink with Raymond in the bar. Now, I was telling the truth about Ian waiting for you.”
Dana ran her hand across her forehead and sighed.
“What's that look?” Imani asked as they walked toward the entrance.
“I can't see Ian anymore,” she whispered.
“Oh. My. God. You fell for Mr. Slick's shit!”
Dana glared at her friend. “Keep your voice down, and I didn't fall for anything. Adrian and I had to get some things out in the open. Now that we have, I'm not going to pretend that I don't still have feelings for him or even that I don't still love him.”
Imani shook her head and walked into the hotel. “After what you told me about him, how can you even question whether you love him or not?”
Dana expelled a frustrated sigh. “If I knew the answer to that question, my life would be so much easier and I'd be able to walk into this bar happy about a date with Ian Kelly.”
“Instead, you're walking in here thinking about the asshole who sent you back to New York with your heart shattered like glass,” Imani finished. She draped her arm across Dana's shoulders. “At least you're going to look cute on the red carpet.”
Dana glanced at Imani's canary minidress and nude heels. “I won't be the only one. Trying to get on the Best Dressed list?”
Imani fluffed her curls and beamed. “I have a secret. This is probably the last time I'll be able to wear a short and formfitting dress for a while.”
Dana stopped. “Are you pregnant?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I think so,” she replied. “My period is two months late, that champagne from the other night made me so sick, and my husband and I have been—”
“Spare me the dirty bedroom details,” Dana joked.
“I just hope I'll be able to finish my new movie without harming the baby.”
“What movie? I feel so out of the loop with you these days.”
Imani slapped her hand on her hip. “Because you are,” she said. “Still, this is what we wanted. A great career and being busy all the time. We deserve it.”
“What's this movie about?” Dana asked as they headed for the bar.
“The working title is
Flying Ace
and it's everything that
Fearless Diva
should've been. Look, enough about me. You have a serious dilemma on your hands.”
Dana nodded and started to say something, but she locked eyes with Ian, who was smiling brightly at her. She liked him and in a different time and place, she'd be happy to get closer to him. But her stupid heart was in Adrian's hands. What in the hell was wrong with her?
“Hello, beautiful,” he said as he crossed over to her. Ian enveloped her in a tight hug. “Have you been able to resist the call of the road?”
“Not at all,” she replied with a forced smile. “That's why I'm running late now.”
“It was well worth the wait. I have a surprise for you.”
“What's that?”
Ian led her to the bar and handed her a black helmet. “We're not riding in a limo.”
Raymond laughed when he heard his wife gasp. “Now you two are just getting on my nerves with this motorcycle-riding mess.” Imani turned to Raymond as he sipped a whiskey sour. “If you even think about it . . .”
“I told you, I'm waiting until my midlife crisis,” he joked. “Then I'm going to get one of them to teach me how to ride it.”
“And I'll hurt whichever one of them teaches you.” Imani waved for the bartender and ordered a virgin strawberry daiquiri, then winked at Dana.
“I'll teach you, Raymond,” Dana exclaimed as she held up the helmet. “And Imani will just have to deal with it. As a matter of fact, once she sees the amazing riding outfits that go with motorcycles, she's going to be happy to hop on the back of the bike with you.”
Ian and Raymond laughed as Imani pouted. “Are you ready to go?” Ian asked. “We can take a spin for fun, then head to the theater.”
“All right.” Dana and Ian told their friends that they'd catch them on the red carpet. Once they were outside and Ian had gotten his motorcycle, Dana slid her helmet on.
“Well, let's get a move on, doll,” he said as he gave her a smoldering look. “And I have to tell you one more time—you look amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said as they climbed on the bike. Holding on to Ian, Dana actually felt a little guilty for thinking about Adrian so much. But she felt extremely guilty when she wished that she was riding with Adrian and holding him tightly. They came to a stop and a pack of paparazzi started snapping their pictures. This was a new feeling for Dana, being on that side of the camera. Ian, however, handled it like a pro, flipping up the shield on his helmet and giving them his trademark smile. She held on to him tighter as Ian revved the bike and tore off from the intersection. Once they made it to the theater, Dana relaxed a bit. She and Ian hopped off the bike, removed their helmets, and were mobbed by reporters.
“Ian, who's the lovely young lady?”
“Are you two dating?”
“Were the rumors of fighting on the set with Heather Williams and Imani Gilliam true?”
“Guys, guys,” Ian said, flashing that smile and emphasizing his Southern accent. “Let's just enjoy the movie.”
A female reporter smiled at Ian. “How much of the movie includes you topless?”
Ian winked at her. “At least half of it.”
“Then I'm going to enjoy this.”
Ian smiled as he wrapped his arm around Dana's waist. “Ready?”
“Yes.” She smiled as another photographer took their picture. Ian leaned in against her ear. “Having fun yet?”

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