Playing for Keeps (12 page)

“I don't know.” Avery shrugged and lowered her lashes. “Whatever you'd like to explore.”

And that was exactly what they did for the next few hours. They took the time to explore one another's bodies and find out their likes and dislikes. Avery was even open to new positions she had never tried in her previous sexual relationships.

Afterward, following a short nap, they snuggled under the covers with the rain still beating outside. Avery was debating whether to discuss her family situation with him when he scratched her head. “Is everything okay?”

She nodded.

“Something's on your mind, though?” Quentin said intuitively. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me. I haven't forgotten what Jenna said at Blue Note—that you've had a lot to deal with lately. My shoulder is here if you want to lean on me.”

“Thank you, it's just that…” Avery hesitated. “I've been under a great deal of stress.”

“Try me,” Quentin said, pushing several pillows backward and opening his arms to Avery. She scooted upward and into the crook of his elbow. When she did, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, letting her know it was okay to talk.

“Over a month ago, I was helping my mother clean out the attic when I stumbled upon a chest.”

“What was inside?”

“Some documents I was never supposed to see.” Avery turned to face him. “Quentin, I found a legal document that revealed I was adopted.”

“Adopted, wow!” Quentin said. “And from your tone, I take it your parents never told you.”

Avery shook her head. “I'm thirty-three years old, Quentin, and they never said a word. They kept the truth from me and the only reason I found out was because I was curious after my mother's reaction when I stumbled on the chest. They tried to explain, but how can they? My whole life has been a lie.”

“I'm so sorry, Avery. This must have come as quite a shock.” Quentin hugged her tighter.

“I don't understand how they could do this. They had every opportunity to tell me. Quentin, I've always known I was different. Felt it, you know, somewhere deep inside that I didn't fit in with my family, and now it all makes sense.”

“Maybe they were afraid,” he interjected. “Because once they didn't tell you, the lie had become so great they couldn't come back from it.” He could understand how her parents felt because he felt the same way right now.

“That's no excuse,” she returned. “I know this isn't a black-and-white issue, Quentin. I'm just so furious with them, I could spit nails.”

“Avery, I know you're upset and you have every right to be, but your parents love you. Do you even realize how lucky you were to have been adopted? To have someone to love, care for and protect you.” Quentin couldn't help but be a little annoyed that she was taking her family for granted.

“I know I've had a privileged life,” she began, but he interrupted her and grabbed both sides of her face.

“You were extremely lucky, Avery. You should be thankful—some people aren't so lucky.”

“I know, I know.” She shook her head. “You must think I'm extremely spoiled.”

“No, what I think is if you had lived a day in my shoes, you'd realize just how fortunate you truly were.”

“Why? Did you have a terrible childhood?” Avery realized she'd never heard Quentin mention his family. Why had she not noticed that before? Had she really been so caught up in herself and her own troubles not to notice that he might have some of his own?

“If you count growing up in foster care from age ten until I was legal,” Quentin replied, “then the answer would be yes.”

“You grew up in foster care?” Avery was shocked. That would explain why he'd never talked about his parents.

“Yes, Malik, Dante, Sage and I grew up in foster care. Because we were older, we were never adopted. So as you can see, Avery, you lucked out. A wonderful family took you in as a baby and nurtured and loved you like parents should. My friends and I weren't so lucky.”

Avery felt terrible, and tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “Quentin, I'm sorry, I had no idea. And here I am going on and on about how upset I am with my family. And I have one.”

He wiped away her tears with the back of his hand. “I didn't tell you this to make you cry. You're entitled to be upset. I'm not trying to take that away from you. I'm just trying to give you a little perspective.”

“And I appreciate that,” she smiled hesitantly, “but if you don't mind my asking, how did you end up in foster care?”

“Well…” Quentin paused, “my mother pretty much moved around from man to man, so my grandmother raised me. When she passed away from a stroke, I was put into the system.”

“What about your mother? Did they even try to look for her?”

“They did, but it was as if she disappeared off the face of this earth.”

“What about you? Did you ever try to find her?”

“No, I didn't,” he answered honestly. “I guess I never wanted to. If she had wanted me, she would have called or come back to check on me. She never did.” The anger in Quentin's voice over his mother's abandonment caused Avery to keep quiet about the search for her own biological mother. She wanted to share the news with him, but she doubted he would understand her desire to find the mother who'd given her up at birth, especially when he was coming from a place of such pain and hurt.

“Well, it looks like we both have some parental issues to work out.” Avery smiled hesitantly.

“Yeah, I suppose so. I guess that's what makes this disagreement between Malik and me so profound. He's my family, Avery.” Quentin's voice caught in his throat. He hated being vulnerable, but he didn't want to lose his best friend either. “Malik, Dante and Sage are all I've got.”

“Not anymore,” Avery said and leaned up to kiss him full on the lips. “You've got me.”

“Do I now?” he asked.

“Yes.” She slid closer until her pert breasts were pressed firmly against his hairless chest. “Matter of fact, you can have all of me, right here and right now.”

“Hmmm,” Quentin groaned. “I think I'll do just that.” He flipped her over until she was pinned underneath him and proceeded to ravish her.

“I
t was the best sex I've ever had,” Avery told Jenna over lunch on Wednesday. She'd been so enraptured with Quentin over the weekend, she hadn't had a chance to call Jenna and tell her about their date. They'd spent the entire Sunday in bed.

“Hallelujah!” Jenna stood up and shouted. Several people turned to stare at her, so she quickly took her seat. “You finally slept with that gorgeous fox? Good for you, Avery.”

“I'd never felt such passion,” she admitted, twisting her napkin in her hand. “It was so intense.” It had been much too long since she'd felt so wanted, so needed, so desired.

“So he rocked your world!”

“More than that, he turned it over on its head.” Avery ran her fingers through her hair. “Quentin has reawakened me sexually, Jenna. I didn't even know my sexuality was dormant until he lit a fire under it. And I don't understand. We're polar opposites.”

Jenna smiled. “And you know the old saying—opposites attract.”

“I suppose so.” Avery shook her head in amazement. “I just don't know where this is all headed.”

“Where do you want it to lead?”

“Honestly, I don't know. We're so different. I'm reserved. He's carefree.”

“But you share common interests too, right? Like art? He's a photographer, so I'm sure he appreciates it, too. Why don't you stop making excuses for why you don't want to be with him and run with it? Don't be so afraid.”

“I'm not,” Avery huffed. “We became lovers, didn't we?”

“And now you're trying to find a million and one reasons to end things.”

Avery hated that her friend knew her so well. She was way out of her comfort zone with Quentin Davis and if she weren't careful she could fall hard for him. She'd already developed strong feelings for him as it was, and that knowledge scared her half to death. “I'm not,” she lied. “I intend to enjoy Quentin for as long as the feeling's right.”

Jenna shrugged. “Sure, you say that now, but I have a feeling that there's a lot you're not saying.”

Avery grinned. If she only knew.

 

Quentin met Richard and his assistant across the street from the community center for his meeting with Malik. He didn't know why he'd agreed to drive over here with Richard. Maybe it was some warped need to show Malik that he would go through with the assignment whether he liked it or not.

“Can't you just see some high-rise condominiums here, a movie theater and some specialty eateries?” Richard's chest puffed at the idea of his latest deal. He didn't wait for Quentin's response, but instead he charged across the street and toward the center entrance. Despite his reservations, Quentin had no choice but to follow behind him.

“I'm Richard King and I'm here to see Malik Williams.”

“I will let him know,” the receptionist replied. Quentin couldn't help but notice the sour expression that crossed her face. She, too, must know that this man had the power to bring the center down. “Please have a seat.”

A look of disdain came across Richard's face as he glanced across the room. Quentin doubted he wanted to sit down in his Gucci suit in the modest lobby with standard brown chairs that looked as if they'd been sat in one time too many. “Thanks, but I'll stand,” Richard said.

Quentin folded his arms across his chest and steeled himself for Malik's reaction to his being there. Several minutes later, Malik came bursting through the door. He was about to speak when he saw Quentin standing in the corner. “What are you doing here?”

“Do you two know each other?” Richard asked, looking back and forth between the two men.

“No,” Malik replied. The look of disappointment he sent Quentin's way caused him to lower his head. “I meant you.”

“I believe my assistant made an appointment,” Richard returned coolly. He wasn't put off by Malik's brusque tone.

“Doesn't matter,” Malik responded, throwing back his dreads. “Because I have nothing to say to you, Mr. King. Trust me when I say that I'm speaking for the Children's Aid Network and the community center. They are not for sale. Not now or in the future.”

“Mr. Williams, I understand your apprehension, but if you'd give me a chance to explain.” Richard snapped his fingers at his assistant to hand him his portfolio. “I can explain the benefits my complex would bring to the community.” He extended the portfolio to Malik, but he ignored it.

“So what are you? The Great White Hope that's going to save the community?” Malik laughed bitterly. “I don't think so. You've got an uphill battle ahead of you, Mr. King, because we are not going to go quietly. Good day.” Malik glared at Quentin one final time before storming back into the office.

Richard was stunned. No one had ever walked out on him. The director hadn't even given him a chance to go over his plans.

“I told you,” his assistant said from his side.

“Yes, well, I never give up,” Richard said, heading toward the door.

Quentin stayed put. He wanted to tell Malik that although he was there in a professional capacity, he was still behind the center one hundred percent, but he doubted Malik would even listen to him.

“Quentin?” Richard turned to him. “Are you coming?”

“Uh, yes,” Quentin said, grabbing his photography bag off one of the chairs and following him and his assistant.

“The meeting did not go as I anticipated,” Richard said once they were outside.

“Did you expect anything less,” Quentin responded, turning sideways and staring at Richard. He'd come to the center since he was a child and would hate to see it demolished to make room for a multimedia complex and condominiums.

Richard spun around at Quentin's sharp tone. “I take it you don't approve of my new development?” He'd noticed that the photographer hadn't been particularly pleased when he told him they were driving to Harlem this morning. Matter of fact, he'd made every excuse in the book not to join him.

“Approve?” Quentin asked. “I think it's a travesty to this community.” He was relieved to finally get the words off his chest.

Richard didn't understand Quentin's hostility to his new development. “I'm willing to relocate the center a few blocks away.”

“So that makes it okay to tear down a landmark?” Quentin asked. “That center,” Quentin pointed to the building, “has been there for nearly fifty years. The community depends on it. Yet somehow your money-making trumps that?” Once he'd spoken his frustrations out loud, Quentin realized just how unprofessional he'd acted. As a photographer, he was supposed to be objective and take pictures, but this assignment hit too close to home. He'd lost all objectivity.

“Well, well,” Richard chuckled. “I'm glad to see you're not a yes man and speak your mind.” Richard despised cowardice. “I can appreciate that.”

“Even though you don't agree with it,” Quentin returned facing Richard.

Richard smiled. “No, I don't. My development will benefit the community and bring in precious revenue and jobs.”

“After you've displaced all the storeowners and residents,” Quentin snorted. “Sounds great.”

“How do you know so much about this area?” Richard replied, eyeing him strangely.

“Because I grew up around here.” Quentin didn't offer more details.

“And yet you're doing an assignment on me. When it's clear you don't approve of what I represent. Why?”

“I made a commitment and I'm honoring that.”

“A man of integrity.” Richard smiled. In his line of business, it was hard not to be jaded. “I don't see many of those in my world. And I appreciate your honesty, Quentin Davis.” Richard extended a hand, which Quentin reluctantly shook. It was just too bad Quentin couldn't say the same about him.

 

Sage showed up unexpectedly at Quentin's apartment later that evening. He'd been standing near the window remembering the weekend he'd spent making love to Avery. He'd enjoyed giving her pleasure and watching her intense reaction as she came. She was wanton and sensual and just the type of woman he wanted in his bed. So why did making love to her throw him into such a panic? Because he was accustomed to being in control, but he'd gotten completely lost in her. He was struggling with the possibility that any woman could make him feel any sort of emotion, but Avery had. She'd gotten to him. Him? A man who didn't do commitments.

“What are you doing here?” Quentin asked when Sage walked in carrying a bottle of wine and a large foil package.

“I brought dinner from Dante's,” she replied, holding up the container. He joined her in the kitchen and started opening cabinets to remove two plates. “Since you haven't been to the bar in over a week and haven't returned any of my calls, I thought I'd better come by and check on you.”

“Yeah, well,” Quentin said, shutting the cupboard door, “I thought perhaps it was better to keep a low profile. That way Malik would come by and not feel uncomfortable at my presence.”

“That's very magnanimous of you,” Sage said, pulling a large spoon out of the drawer underneath the counter and ladling spaghetti carbonara onto the plates. “Now open that bottle of wine. Dante whipped us up some pasta.”

Sage loved being bossy, so Quentin walked over and playfully yanked the bottle away from her. “You know, you didn't have to do this, Sage.” He uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.

“I know I didn't but you've been a little too quiet all week.”

“Have you ever thought there was a reason I hadn't called?” Quentin handed her a glass. Suddenly, his mind raced with illicit thoughts of how incredibly responsive Avery had been in bed and the little sounds she'd made when he'd been buried…Quentin stopped dead in his tracks. He was getting in too deep. Perhaps he should pull back before there was no turning back.

“Oh?” Sage's eyes widened. “Have you and Avery grown closer?” When Quentin remained mum, Sage got her answer. “I see. So
she's
the reason you've abandoned your friends.”

“One week does not abandonment make. Avery and I are two adults who are enjoying each other's company. Is anything wrong with that?”

“Of course not,” Sage replied. “But if I recall, you weren't supposed to get involved. Just get the ice diva to melt.”

“Thanks, Sage.” Quentin already felt guilty enough about gaining Avery's trust under false pretenses. He'd pursued her relentlessly and now what? Guilt gnawed at his insides.

“I'm not trying to make you feel bad,” Sage said.

“I know, I know,” he said. He hadn't been looking for anything serious either, just a little fun. But in the short time he'd known her, Avery had been real and honest with him. She'd let her guard down and opened up to him about the fact that she'd been adopted, and he'd trusted her with his rocky childhood. He couldn't remember the last time he'd trusted a woman with his feelings, but he had with Avery.

“If you didn't feel anything, I'd think something was wrong,” Sage said. She walked around the counter and peered at Quentin. “But you do, so something tells me that Avery's become more to you than you'd envisioned. Am I right? Are you falling for her, Q?”

“Of course not.” Quentin denied it even though deep down he knew Sage spoke the truth. “I'm not a relationship kinda guy. I don't do commitment.”

She peered into his ebony eyes. “You're lying. You've developed feelings for her, but you're afraid to admit it.”

“I'll admit that she's not the ice queen I originally thought she was. She's warm, kind and passionate. Extremely passionate, but that doesn't mean this is going anywhere. Matter of fact, I've won the bet, so if I wanted to, I could move on.”

“But you don't want to, do you? You're going to continue seeing her, aren't you?” Quentin didn't answer. Sage patted his back. “It's okay, Q. It'll be our little secret. Enjoy Avery. You deserve all the happiness you can get.”

 

“I didn't find any matches in New Hampshire,” Woody told Avery over the phone on Thursday. “So I expanded my search to include the East Coast and I located several matches.”

“That close?”

“Yes, I figured given the times back then, your biological mother probably went to Manchester to give birth to avoid controversy in her hometown.”

“And?” Avery held her breath. She was sure there was more that Woody wasn't saying and she was almost afraid to know the answer.

“I've found her, Avery.”

Suddenly, all the air went out of the room and Avery grasped for her chair to avoid passing out. “You…You found her?” She pulled her chair underneath herself.

“Yes. She lives in upstate New York, in Buffalo to be exact,” Woody replied. “I have an address for you, if you want to write it down.”