Chapter 44

ARTHUR

It was 5:30 p.m., and for once, I could wrap up my business day at a decent hour.

I looked out my office windows from AmeriCapital. It had been a good business day.

I leaned back in my deluxe office chair. I took a moment to breathe deeply and think about how the past few weeks had gone. Not bad overall.

My phone pinged to let me know I had a text. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at it. It was from Doris.

'I’d like to talk to you about a few things. Do you have time tonight or tomorrow to meet?'

Even though the text should be neutral, it didn’t sound good. When a woman said I want to talk, that was never good.

I paused for a minute. 'Today is better.' Who knew how tomorrow would go?

'Sure, do you want me to come to your apartment?' I texted.

The three dots indicated she was typing. The dots appeared and then disappeared. After a minute, they reappeared again.

'Can we meet at the diner? I’ve barely eaten all day.'

'Of course, and you better take better care of yourself, or you’ll get a spanking.'

That just gets a 😊 response.

'6:15?' I texted.

That gets a 👍 from Doris. I find I’m really looking forward to it.

When I got to the diner, Doris was wearing casual clothing. She wasn't wearing any make-up.

Doris had on a sweatshirt and faded jeans. The sight of her turned me on. Whether in casual clothes or expensive designer dresses, I wanted her.

"Hi, baby," I said and kissed her on the cheek.

"Hi, Arthur," she said, her voice low and sexy. I know she didn’t mean it to be. Maybe it was just how I heard it.

We ordered, and I waited a minute for her to broach whatever topic it was that was on her mind, but she didn’t.

Finally, I said, "Doris, sweetheart, you didn’t invite me here so that I would pay for your burger. Tell me what’s on your mind, lovely."

"Well, two things. At the ball, I met a man named Matthew Guggenheim. He’s a bigwig in City Hall. I told him about the Brooklyn tract that they want to turn into a cemetery, and he knew immediately which piece of land I was talking about. He said some unusual things."

My stomach tightened. "Oh?" I asked.

"Yes. And the most interesting thing he said was, 'Arthur is related to someone who caused the problem.' Doris waved her hand. "I mean, I don’t remember the exact wording, but that was basically what he said. How could that be?"

I gave a little half shrug, and luckily the waitress came at just that moment to check on us.

"Y’all doing OK? She asked us in a heavy Georgia draw. She eyed me like she would like to eat me up and she was hoping that Doris was really my sister and not my date.

"We’re fine," Doris said brusquely.

"I’d like some more coffee," I said

"Where were we?” Doris asked, probably asking herself more than me.

"Matthew said you were related to the person who was causing the problem," Doris continued, "And as far as I know, you don’t have any relatives. Nathan’s like a brother to you, but that’s all I know of.”

Doris was clever, and surely it won’t take her long to put this together. "Did Matthew tell you who was causing the problems?

"No, he didn’t say. He was tactful and just hinted. I felt like he was trying to tell me that somebody had paid off somebody, and he couldn’t say.”

We were silent for a moment.

"You’re avoiding my question," Doris said.

"I am, but maybe I’ll have to think about exactly what he meant."

Doris gave me a look I’d never seen from her before. It was a scowl that was filled with both doubt and mistrust.

I took both of her hands in mine. "You don’t think I'd do anything to hurt you, do you?"

This obviously threw her off.

"No," Doris said. "Absolutely not."

"Good, baby, 'cause I never would. You know that.”

"I do," she said.

"Was that it?" I asked. "Or was there some other bomb you wanted to drop on me?"

"Well, we never talked about our relationship," Doris said.

I realized she was right with everything that had been going on I sort of forgot that we postponed the conversation.

"Doris, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" I asked in a teasing voice.

She blushed from her cheeks to the roots of her hair.

"No," she said, drawing out the word, and then looking down at the table. She picked at her nails for a moment.

I took her chin and tilted it up so she was looking at me. "Because I’d be flattered if you were asking me, but you don’t need to ask."

I caressed her chin lightly, then let it go.

"Perhaps I haven’t talked about it because I didn’t think we needed to talk about it."

"But let me say this straight out, Doris. From the moment you picked me up at The Strip, I haven’t looked at another woman, thought of another woman, wanted another woman."

"Do you want to know what our relationship is? It’s you’re my woman, and I’m your man."

"That is if you’ll have me."

She broke into a smile that was like a rainbow in front of the sun.

The waitress comes back. "Y’all want any dessert?"

"No, thank you,” Doris said.

"Just the check," I said.

Doris and I stood up, and I held her close.

I whispered in her ear. "I do want dessert, and it’s going to be you."

I took off work on Friday to devote myself to discovering exactly who is behind getting that Brooklyn tract of land deal going sour. How could the government seize this land to make a cemetery?

It took all day and some bribery to find the answers.

I want to say that the answer surprised me, but it didn’t. It was a shell company, and they had a big payout.

It took a while to figure out who the owners behind the shell company were. Surprise, surprise, it was Bob and Andrea.

To say I was livid is an understatement.

Saturday night, after Mia went to bed and after my beautiful little dove came back from singing at The Strip, Doris asked me again if I found anything else about the Brooklyn tract of land or if I had deciphered what Matthew meant when he said the problem was related to me.

I realized Doris had no idea that Andrea is my mother. Why would she? It wasn't something I publicized, and it wasn't something I ever wanted Doris to find out. It disgusted me. I wanted to keep that ugliness away from Doris.

But I had a sinking feeling I might not be able to for long. Every time Doris asked me about the Brooklyn tract or Matthew Guggenheim, I distracted her with hot kisses and vigorous sex. That worked well, and there was no downside to having her underneath me, but I knew Doris would figure out I was sex to keep her occupied, and that wouldn’t work for long.

For as long as it worked, I’d take it. It was certainly no hardship.

I had a long big cushion chair in my bedroom. I sat down on it and patted my lap.

"Dove, guess who’s going for a rough ride?"

Doris blushed. "Me?" she asked quietly.

"Oh yeah."

"Come here and get on me," I said. "All day I’ve been waiting to feel your luscious body on top of me and thrust into you."

"And luckily, I don’t have to wait a second more.”

She just stood there looking like she was admiring me, but she hadn’t moved yet.

I slapped my thigh. "Move, woman."

She giggled, and a second later, she was straddling me.

"Perfect way to start," I said.

Then I kissed her. I kissed her and kissed her until her lips were swollen. I felt like I had the word "Mine" stamped all over her body.

It was a very, very good day.