Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2)

Over

(This. Is. Not. Over.)

Book #2

By Shannon Dianne

Copyright 2014 by Shannon Dianne

All Rights Reserved

www.shannondianne.com

Danielle

Hilton Head

July 1
st

“Fuck me.” It’s all I need to whisper against his lips. With one clean swipe, he takes his wallet out of his pocket, reaches in and throws some bills onto the table before sliding me out of the booth. Wrapping his arm around my shoulders, we both are bombarded with
goodbyes
and
see you laters
. Of course Malcolm pastes on a smile and makes sure to address everyone, his tall frame leaning into the shoulders of men as they slap each other on the hands. I’m five, nine so what is he? Six, one? Six, two? Doesn’t matter, he’s perfect. I watch him smirk at a table near the front doors before he pulls me in even closer. I look at the table and see the blond guy who was watching me when I first walked in. Right now the blond looks pissed.

“Who’s that?” I ask as we walk out the door.

“Just someone I met a couple of days ago.”

“Oh.” And as we hit the fresh air, I spin around in front of him, grab him by his shirt collar and crash his lips against mine. The one thing about Hilton Head summers is that anything
goes. After family time is over at the beach during the day, the parents leave their kids with the nannies and that’s when anything can happen. As soon as the sky’s completely dark, you’ll hear Coldplay blaring from drop tops, beer bottles clinking together, the shrill sounds of ladies laughing, and men’s bravado breaking through the laughter.
We may be grownups now but we still like to chill the fuck out!
So I have no problem being pressed against Malcolm’s Audi right now with our lips locked as child-free parents stroll by. For all they know, we’re married with kids ourselves.
You’ve still got that kind of passion after having two kids and a dog? Good for you
. He fumbles for the unlock button on his car alarm and I laugh at him as he keeps locking the doors.
Beep. Beep.
“Hurry!” I yell with a laugh.

“What the fuck
…” He studies the key ring with a smile as if it’s locking the door on its own. “This is what happens when I get excited.” He growls in my ear as he pulls me away from the car door to open it.

“No. I can’t wait.”
I nudge the car door shut. And wait, did I just see a moment of surprise rush over his face? I think I did! Malcolm Blair, shocked by my sexual revolution? I turn and open the back door and slide in. Now, let’s see, how are we going to do this? Ah, I know. I sit my bottom on the middle console and spread my legs. He climbs in, shuts the door and gives me a smirk. I nod my head.
Yes, right here.
He shrugs.
No big deal.
I laugh and feel him pulling my panties off and then sliding them down my legs. He points to my dress.
Watch this
. He slides it up. I point to his shorts.
Take them off
. He shakes his head no. No?
No.
He leans me back and then…oooooooohhhh. What have I been missing for twelve years? Was he always like this? Could I have been the luckiest woman in the world? This. Damn. Man. My stilettos are on the headrests, my fingers are wrapped in his hair and my eyes are shut as tight as I can close them. Can I just stay like this forever? This is so out of my element. This is so not me. I am responsible. I have had one partner my entire life and now I’m on number two. And I’m married! But I was tense. I was uptight. I was unloved. I was stressed. I was sad. I am twenty-seven. I am young. I am human. I am happy.

“Malcolm!” The scream from outside of the car jolts me out of bliss and within seconds Malcolm
’s sitting up, confused as hell. We both squint through his tinted windows and into the night until
her
face becomes clear. She’s the woman from Belgium. Her hair is down now and it’s in a bob but I know that face. That un-pretty but polished face.

“Is that your
… fiancé?” I say as I pick my lace panties up. Malcolm takes them from me, wipes his mouth off and hands them back.

             
“Shit. Here we go.” He says as he opens the back door and steps out. I put my panties on and rush out of the car to see Cocoa Lady and the waiting cab she ascended from. “Not here, Laura.” As I slide out of the back seat, I hear Malcolm trying to give her his best low baritone voice to soothe her over. But it’s not working. Laura is spouting off at the mouth at an unfathomable rate and I have to admit, I’m startled. I never imagined I’d see the ever-so polished Cocoa Lady in such rare form. From what I can hear, Cadence is involved. She keeps mentioning his name.
Cadence … Cadence … Cadence.

             
“One mistake! You leave me after one mistake?” She asks. Her eyes are wide, almost bulging, she’s moving erratically and she hasn’t even made mention that I’m standing here.

             
“Laura, relax.” Malcolm takes her by her arm but she fights away, insistent on going into the bar for some reason.

             
“Everyone I know is in there! Have they already seen you? Have they seen you with
Red
?” She shoots her head around so that her eyes throw darts at me.  Who the hell is she to call me Red? She doesn’t know me.

             
“Laura.” He says calmly as he’s rushing to grab her before she heads towards the bar’s front doors. “Some of my clients are in there, you can’t–”

             
And then Laura turns wild and begins screaming at a deafening volume. I hear her make mention of a home, how they need to live there together, how they were perfect before, why can’t they be perfect again. She’s so wired that I back away from them and find myself near the cab. I watch Malcolm wrap his arms around her and whisper for her to relax. Wow, is she loony or what? His soothing tactics don’t work on the nut job; she charges for the bar’s doors again.

             
“This is my life!” She yells. “Not hers, mine!”

             
“Okay, come on Laura.” Malcolm still has his soothing voice on as he tries to walk her to his car. But she’s trying to break free and soon he’s picking her up and placing her in the car while she screams something about Cadence.

             
“Malcolm, I’ll catch this home.” I point to the cab and quickly head to its back door. The cabbie rushes outside of his cab at this point, appearing as though he thinks he should help Malcolm.

             
“Come get my wallet Danielle.” Malcolm says as he struggles to get Laura into the car.

             
“I have the cash Malcolm, just–” He rips the wallet out of his pocket and tosses it in the air to the cabbie. And I have no time to argue because now Laura is trying to break free from the car. I don’t say goodbye. I rush into the cab, slam the door behind me and then lock it to make sure Laura won’t creep in after me. The cabbie does the same.

             
“Where to Miss?” He says as he hands me Malcolm’s wallet.

             
“525 Harbor Drive.” I say as he pulls off. I steal a look behind me and Laura is now wrapped in Malcolm’s arms, crying. What the hell?

Laura

July 1
st

She has lashes as wispy as swan feathers, hair as red as cayenne pepper, skin the color of a freshly toasted bagel and eyes the color of hot apple cider. I know that Malcolm loves that pepper red hair of hers and has even seemed to rename her ‘Red’ because of it, but I have to admit, it was her hot apple cider eyes that captured me the most. I knew instantly, just by looking into them, that I had lost Malcolm for good. He has it all wrong; it’s not Danielle’s hair that makes her beautiful, it’s her eyes. And the thought of her pepper red hair, toasted skin and cider eyes starts to make my head spin.

Right now, I’m in a world of colors and they’re whirling: the fireflies lighting up the blue-black night, the stars flickering silver up high, the yellow moon that’s creepy close, the blues coming from Oyster Bar. It’s all spinning. It’s spinning and I’m screaming. I’m screaming and I’m charging. I’m going for blood; I’m on a rampage. Malcolm was just in his car with his head between another woman’s legs. And trust me when I say that his ass was
going to town
. And on a black girl no less. A black girl! Yeah, I’m in a world of colors: the blue-black night, the silver stars, the yellow moon, the Oyster Bar blues, the black girl, her red hair. Blue, silver, yellow, black, red.

Red.

Malcolm’s simply standing on the sidewalk now. Can you believe that? Funny isn’t it? How can someone have so much control when I’m standing here going for blood? But that’s our Malcolm. He’s standing next to Jacob, whispering, their eyes, every so often, drifting up to look at me. Have you ever been riled up to the point of murderous rage and your victim is standing by with complete composure? How does that make you feel? Can’t
you
see why I’m going for blood? Thank you for your understanding.
Finally
, someone’s on my side. I think we’re going to get along fine, you and me. It’ll be
us
against
them
.

“What’s he saying Jacob! Huh?”
I ask as I put my hand to my ear. Jacob and Malcolm look up to me, both remain silent, their faces more pensive than pissed.

Malcolm and Jacob. Both are Blairs. Both are beautiful. Dark and
striking. Seductively beautiful … and neither one belongs to me. Has this world no justice? They’re just
so
seductive.
So
dark.
So
beautiful.

“You beautiful pieces of shit!” I scream
at them. “Hey Jacob! Is Malcolm telling you that he just got finished eating pussy? Huh? I can’t hear you! Speak up! Did he tell you that shit?” They both look at me for a moment longer and then simultaneously turn to each other and start whispering again. “Don’t you dare talk about me like I’m not here! You’re a fucking disgrace Malcolm! A disgrace! You’ve humiliated me!” Dena is now tugging on my arm, begging me to ‘just come on’.

             
Fuck that shit.

             
I don’t care if all of Hilton Head hears me right now. I don’t care that everyone in the bar is crowding around the windows to watch me. I don’t care that Nat just walked up to me and is trying to reason with me.

“Laura, come on, this is family business. Let’s take this somewhere else.” He tries to appeal to me as he stands in front of me now. Family? What is this about
family
?

“The hell with the family!” I scream out so
that everyone can hear me. But guess what? I have some pretty heavy dirt on this supposed family. I’m going to tell
you
a few secrets about The Family. The Family has paid off mistresses, placed bribes, cleaned dirty jail records, fixed elections and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I could bury this little family six feet under with that information. Let’s tell them that. “I have enough dirt on ‘The Family’ that I could ruin this little Danish mafia.” I look around to everyone and all eyes are now on me. Exactly. “I have enough dirt on you all to bury the entire family six feet under.”

“Oh Laura, come on, not here.” Winnie says from the passenger seat of her truck. Notice that I said from the
passenger
seat of her
truck
. Yeah that bitch should be scared.

“Fuck you Gwyneth!” I hate calling her Winnie!
Winnie
. I hate that fucking nickname it sounds so damn stupid! “Grow up! Stop using your goddamn nickname!” How dare Winnie go all high and mighty on me? I knew this bitch when she was in frat houses sucking dicks like they were Jolly Ranchers. I turn to Dena to remind her of the good old days. “The moment this slut changed her last name to Blair, all of a sudden she acts like she’s lost the taste for random cock.” I turn back to Winnie. “Go suck a cock Gwyneth! That’s all you’re good for you goddamn slut!” Winnie’s the biggest whore I know but she had the nerve to marry a Blair before me! Before
me
! And she had the nerve to marry Jacob of all people. Jacob Blair! He’s way out of Winnie’s league. How the hell did she get Jacob Blair! Oh, I know … “Jacob was forced to marry you Winnie, remember that! You were
not
his first choice you damn cocksucker!”