Also, as you can see, this says, Chapter 4.2. If you're looking for Chapter 4.1, That was Chapter 4 entry and I just didn't add the 4.1 because readers would get made even before reading because they knew I was going to cliff hanger this baby and I would get threatening phone calls and emails about doing awful things to me if I didn't post very very soon. (I still get them on major cliffhangers, but not so vicious, LOL).
I had some responses from other comments:
@ Anonymous (about Dwight) you should know his age through this entry
@Chandra -(1st issue) send me your dimensions and then I'll see what I can do for you on my next book. (2nd issue) if you look to the left of the page, I changed the donation box again for "sizable donations."
@ Suprina thank you for enjoying the story (that goes out to everyone else who said that too.) I'm enjoying that it too, but like I said before, I make this up as I go. (I'm serious about that). So I don't even know why she cuts herself. (Of course we'll find out why as the story unfolds though cause I'm just as curious as you.)
I know that sound crazy, but really I have no forethought when I venture in these stories except I know that two people will fall in love and one person will most likely die. (And I really don't know who yet so don't you dare call me back and ask me about it - you know who you are.)
As always, enjoy....
Her ears were acting up again, she was sure of it. “The flowers are yours, Michelle?” Sinclaire asked, just knowing she had heard wrong.
“No, they came today for you.” Michelle handed her two cards. “These were with them. I just marked the time they came. By two different florists!”
Sinclaire was again struck speechless as she slowly opened her first ever card from someone. This was the first time in her life someone had given her flowers.
I hope you are still thinking positively about having dinner with me. DB.
Tears began to cloud her eyes as she opened up the second envelope that had come three hours after the first.
I should also let you know, I’m not a patient man either, so hurry up.DB.
She burst out laughing. Whether it was just happiness, glee or amusement, she didn’t know and she didn’t care. She got roses!
“What did you do?” Michelle asked.
“I don’t know.” Sinclaire was completely flustered. “Just my job, I guess.” She felt so unsure of herself and there were just too many emotions to even try to think straight.
“From the little that I know of him, he’s … aloof.” Michelle shifted her weight slightly as if she were uncomfortable to speak on him. “I hear Niche’s friends speak on him because he’s real
good at finance retrieval.”
“How old is he?” Sinclaire inquired curiously. ‘What do you care?! You are not good enough for him!’ Mel’s voice bellowed in her head. She forced herself to remain focus. Her
mother’s voice, even imaginary, was always upsetting.
“I think almost forty, but I saw him in this local business magazine and he does not look at all near that age.” She dug around her office and found a very prominent business magazine with Dwight on the cover looking damn good in a tailored made business suit. Opening up the magazine, Michelle begin to read aloud about him. “Born and raised in Chicago, Dwight earned his right to be good at what he does by retrieving over four hundred billion dollars worth of debt for companies all over the world. His finance retrieval skills and his accounting degree has helped companies in better business. Divorced with children, Dwight says his move to Detroit will not only be a major business change, but he hopes to make personal changes as well.” She looked up and winked mischievously as she closed he magazine. “Sounds like a man ready to settle down.”
Sinclaire’s stomach churned and she felt the familiar pulsing that she could never control. “I-I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Are you alright?” Michelle asked worriedly.
“Yes,” she lied, but she didn’t want to feel elated anymore. Not if it made her …
Without speaking anymore, Sinclaire left out the office and found the employees bathroom right away. She locked herself in the stall and took out a pencil case that had a smaller version of her silver case at home. This was the emergency kit. The one that most times she kept like a Linus Blanket, but used every blue moon. This one had not been used in a long while, but nothing like Dwight Bowman had stepped into her life.
Out loud she asked herself, "I thought you said after the last time you wouldn't do it anymore? You can fight this."
But as usual those words fell on deaf ears as she concentrated on cleaning the inside of her thigh.
The cut she had made just last night was still there and it stung when she wiped the alcohol over it, but the burn was necessary. She needed the pain.
‘Forget him,’ Mel’s voice whispered in her head. ‘You don’t deserve anyone. You are fat and ugly.’
Tears welled in her eyes and she could barely see as she took the blade out. The pencil bag fell off her leg hitting her backpack and the cards Dwight had given her fell out on the floor.
She pulled the blade back just before she was about to cut herself, to wipe the tears out of her eyes so she could see. Her eyes focused on the card.
I hope you are still thinking positively about having dinner with me. DB.
‘Can have dinner with him?!’ she told herself.
“Why not?” she asked aloud.
Picking up the card, she read his note again.
“No I’m not still thinking about having dinner with you, Mr. Bowmen.” She spoke as if he were standing there. “I can’t because you’ll look at my fat face up close and won’t like me.”
‘Is that what you’re going to tell him?’
“No,” she answered herself. “I’ll tell him I have school and I don’t have time.”
The feelings that had overwhelmed her in Michelle’s office had dissipated, so she promptly but the blade away and applied the band-aid to the day old wound she had inflicted on herself.
Her night was disturbing because she couldn’t concentrate on her studies. After closing, while she waited for Michelle to finish the office paper work for the past two nights, Sinclaire took out the business card of Dwight Bowmen and tore it to pieces.
The finality of her decision made strange pains in her chest and her gut felt as if she was
going to throw up, but she had to make a choice. School or a relationship and if anyone was going to take her seriously – especially her mother, she had to focus on school.
Alone or not, when she gained her law degree she’d be respected and treated as if she mattered in this world… and she wouldn’t need Mel to care after all this was over.
The phone rung just as Michelle was closing up the safe. They looked at each other
strangely because no one called the store after it closed.
“Should we answer it?” Sinclaire asked.
Michelle walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver. “Hello? Uniquity Boutique, how may I help you?” She was frowning deeply, but then her frown dissipated. “Well, yes I know you… We were just about to leave… Oh no, it’s not a requirement, but –“ She was cut off and at first she looked upset. The next moment she laughed and said, “Well, I don’t know because I don’t ask my employees about their personal business… you’ll have to ask her yourself.” She handed the receiver to Sinclaire. “It’s for you.”
She mouthed the words, “Me?”
“Who is it?” Sinclaire mouthed without voice.
Her manager whispered, “I was told not to tell you, but I can’t order you to take the phone.”
Curious, she took the phone and put it to her ear to see if she could hear anything. Nothing! “Hello?”
“You didn’t actually think I’d take no for an answer,” Dwight asked on the other end of the phone.
Did someone just inject a gallon of butterflies in her stomach? “I don’t think you like that word, but my answer is still-“
“Before you say another word, Sinclaire, I should let you know that since it seems you haven’t been out in the dating world in a while, that it’s bad etiquette to refuse someone over the phone.”
How did he know whether she’s been out in the dating world or not? Although in truth, she hadn’t been out in the dating world at all, but she didn’t want to seem ignorant. “So I’m supposed to find you and tell you what I need to tell you? Why can’t I say it over the phone?”
“The same reason you don’t walk to the left. You just don’t do it. So why don’t you come refuse me tonight and you never have to set eyes or ears upon me again,” he promised.
“So if I don’t come, you’ll continue to call me every night.”
“And don’t forget the flowers,” he reminded her.
Disquieted, over his persistence, she said sarcastically, “Oh no, we wouldn’t forget that.”
“I’d double the order every day until you accepted.”
“I’m almost inclined to keep refusing since I’ve never gotten them.”
“I’m very persistent.”
Sinclaire sighed knowing it was wrong to keep Michelle in the store when it was so late and she knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer over the phone. “Fine, where?”
“The Hyatt. Come to the bar. That’s not far.”
That was right near the mall. “Are you stalking me?” she asked suspiciously.
“Never that,” he said as if it were the craziest thing in the world. “I had a client meeting over here and it lasted longer than I thought, so I thought I’d call to remind you that I’m waiting for your answer, but I realized I didn’t have a number to contact you, accept by phone at the store.”
She believed him. “I’ll come and you’ve got to promise not to call me at my job anymore.”
“You’ll come now?” he verified.
“Yes!” Sinclaire slammed down the phone and huffed in anger. “He’s so persistent!”
“It’s Dwight Bowman. I heard he’d ride the Pope to death if it concerned business. I heard that no one has ever reneged on any loan when Dwight was involved in it,” Michelle said.
They started to walk out the mall.
“Why?” Sinclaire said.
“Let’s just say that Dwight Bowman is just a thug in a suit. Grown, albeit but according to my husband he use to run the streets for King Heart out of Chicago collecting on debts before he came to join with Delano Bellini, come to Detroit and decide to become legit. King was upset Dwight left because the man could squeeze water out of a rock if he was paid enough.”
“Are you saying he runs a loan sharking business?”
“No. He runs an investment company. This company lends the money out and gets it back while the another partner invest the money in real estate and bonds.”
“But he’s the muscle man.”
“You could say, but my husband’s never met him, so don’t take his word for it. It’s all just
gossip fodder. The man could be a big ole’ pussy cat.’
“I’m not going to meet him! Not after what you just told me,” Sinclaire said.
By this time they had walked to the cars.
“You promised, Sinclaire, and you aren’t about to break a promise to that man so he can be sitting outside my store every night stalking you. He’s rich… no, he’s wealthy… overly wealthy and he’s very interested in you, so take a bite out of that wealth and get you some fun along with a great education.” Michelle stopped walking and gently held Sinclaire’s arm to get her to face her. “He’s a man. He puts his pants on one leg at a time. But most of all, he’s just like the first man. Entranced by what you have between your thighs. Relish that thought, Sin, because that’s going to get you to dig down within yourself and find your power within so you don’t take shit from him or anyone else. You’re a woman and don’t you ever let him forget it.”
Sinclaire forced herself to take a deep breath. It actually felt much better once she let Michelle’s words soak in.
Getting to her car that had the dozen roses packed on the backseat, which she had brought out earlier on her shift, Sinclaire knew that in order to focus on what she needed to do in life, she had to get rid of him.
‘Do you know how crazy that sounds?’ For the first time in her life a man – a very handsome, sexy and wealthy man was paying attention to her.
The timing was all wrong. She couldn’t focus on law school and him at the same time.
Driving over to the Hyatt, she found the bar immediately. He spotted her before she spotted him and walked up to her. Dressed in a navy blue pinstripe suit, he still looked as gorgeous as he had the first time. Walking next to him was an Italian dark skinned man, who looked like a light skinned black man, but she could see the sharp features and the pitch-black wavy hair. Plus, she was very aware of whom he was. Delano Bellini was part of a very prominent Hispanic and Italian mixed family, who owned over seventy billion dollars worth of real estate in the world, a famous winery in Italy, and The St. Royal Hotel and Cruise Line, which was geared toward minorities.
Dwight walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek, while hugging her, catching her completely off guard. “Sinclaire, this is one of my partners, Delano Bellini.”
She was still a little discombobulated from the affection Dwight had just shown, but she stretched out her hand and shook Delano’s strong grip. He was just as tall as Dwight, but brawny with a sort of perfect linebacker body. There was a sort of cruel look to his olive green eyes that were weirdly similar to Dwight’s and they had similar good looks except for the sharp features. But she didn’t point this out to them.
“Pleasure, Sinclaire,” Delano said briefly and then turned his attention to Dwight. “I’ll take the car back to the hotel, because I have a stop to make. Do you mind taking the limousine?”
“No,” Dwight said.
When Delano was gone, she turned to him to make her announcement. “Now, as I wanted to say over the phone-“ She stopped what she was saying because he was giving her a hard
serious look that made her stop what she was saying. “What?”
“We really must work on your public skills, Sinclaire.”
Guiltily she took comfort in his proximity and liked how people’s heads turned at seeing her with him. He gently took her hand and led her outside to a limousine.
She halted her step. “Where are we going?”
“Where you can properly break up with me,” he said obviously as if she should know.
The driver opened the door to the limousine and Sinclaire got inside more curious to see the inside of a limousine than breaking this thing off with Dwight. It was her first time inside one and she was able to see the spacious luxurious cabin before Dwight got inside and the door was closed turning the inner light off.
“Now?” she asked, looking at him. Albeit the dimness, she could still see that he was looking at her with a sort of greedy happy expression.
“Not yet. Are you thirsty?”
The car began to move.
Nervously, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I told you. Are you thirsty?” he asked again.
“No! Mr. Bowman-“
He cut her off, “Dwight,” he insisted.
“Dwight, I really think we should … This car needs to stop!”
His tone of voice was oddly calm despite her almost hysterical tone. “It will,” he promised. “But some place proper. Are you hungry? I am starving. I didn’t eat with the client. I never do. I like to do business first.”
“I find that hard to believe since we aren’t handling our business first and no I’m not hungry.” That was a first, but she was too upset to do anything and she had left her backpack in the car.
Forwardly, he reached up and cupped her cheek as if he couldn’t help himself. The feeling of his warm palm against her skin excited her all over and it took all her willpower not to lean into his
“Did you like the roses?” he asked casually.
Moving his hand away and coming back to reality, Sinclaire looked out the back window to see her car getting further and further away and worrying about how she was going to get back home.
“Sinclaire,” he said. “Did you like the roses?”
“Yes, they were beautiful. Thank you, but you can’t send me them anymore.”
“Yes, I know sending them at your job was inappropriate, but if you would give me your home address, I could send them there.”
“No!” she said firmly. “I can’t do that because-“
He cut her off again. “I haven’t been with a woman in twelve years.”
This caught her off guard. “Why?” she couldn’t help asking.
“My wife left me, because I couldn’t rub two quarters together. Left me with two children to raise, and I told myself I’d focus on raising them and making sure I had enough quarters to make her come back to me.”
“I was young and stupidly in love. I raised my kids without asking her for a dime and now that I have the wealth, I know I’m a better man than to even let her come in my life.”
“That still doesn’t explain your reasons to not be with a woman,” she pointed out.
“Money recovery is a very lonely life. The women you meet are usually the ones people send to your hotel room when they are trying to coherence you into forgetting they owe a debt. I’ve matured from that and don’t make sharing myself with just anyone. You don’t make many friends when you force old ladies out on the street or close down family businesses in order to recovery a debt, but I don’t mind being the bad guy. I had to be in order to survive. Yet, women seem to find me unattractive because of the job that I do.”
“So you approach strange women and tell them how beautiful they are?” she asked sardonically.
He smiled his gorgeous smile in amusement not taking her wicked tone seriously. “No, Sinclaire, you are fate. A very beautiful wonderful fate and one that I would desire to know better if you give me a chance.”
“This is a bad time in my life. I’m six months from taking the bar.”
“I am a busy man as well and I don’t intend on taking up any extra amounts of your time.”
Why did that sound so reasonable? ‘Because you want it to.’
Her stomach twittered furiously. “You aren’t going to make me change my mind.”
“I wouldn’t dare change a woman’s mind when she’s so dead set against refusing me, but I can make you understand that I don’t just approach anyone and the fact that I approached you should be considered.”
Before she could respond to that arrogant statement, the driver said, “We’re here, Mr. Bowman.”
She had been so consumed by his proximity and conversation; she had paid little attention to where they had been going. They were in front of another hotel – The St. Royal near Downtown Detroit - A five star hotel that had suites ranging from $150 to $1000 dollar a night.
“Why are we here?” she questioned.
He didn’t answer her and she reluctantly followed him out the limousine, which promptly pulled away once they had stepped out. Gently, he took her hand again and smiled down at her as if he were honored to have her in his presence.
‘Did he make all the women he was around feel like a queen?’ She wondered as she freely allowed him to guide her in the lobby.
“Dwight Bowmen with a woman?” a woman’s sharp voice sneered as they headed to the restaurant.
Dwight reluctantly looked away from Sinclaire to focus on the five foot two Italian woman looking like she had a large chip on her shoulder. “Ms Taylor Bellini, what are you doing in Detroit?”
“Same thing you are. When my cousin decides to move you know everyone has to move as well. Mamma’s not happy, but she sees the benefits. We go where the money is.” The woman had not stopped looking at Sinclaire. She was the spitting image of Delano Bellini, but all woman. Slim, cover model beautiful Italian-Hispanic heritage that was brought out a sultry sensual woman that carried dominance clearly on her sleeve.
“This is Sinclaire-“
Taylor sneered cut him off. “Did you pick up this one-“
“Watch it, Taylor Bellini,” Dwight said in a very deadly low tone narrowing his beautiful eyes that had become a shade of dark green brown.
Taylor, amused bit her lip and looked at Sinclaire. “Watch yourself, girl. Don’t let that charm fool you.” She walked away.
“Should I be worried?” Sinclaire asked.
Dwight moved his arms around her waist and drew her closer to him. “Of Taylor, yes. Of your safety, no. That’s not why we’re here.” His arm smoothly moved around her waist to draw her close. “Please don’t let her ruin this evening, Sinclaire.”
“This is not an evening, Dwight.” She pushed away slightly from him to compose her mental state, but was still very close because his arms were still around her waist. “I should be honored and enamored by your advances, but at this time I cannot accept them.” If he only knew what was going on between her legs, he would have definitely known she was the biggest liar in the world. “I have to concentrate on my school and I can’t if you’re distracting me.”
“How am I a distraction?” he asked as if the notion was ridiculous. “I haven’t even kissed you.”
Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 4.2 (c) Sylvia Hubbard
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