Layla nodded, though not as enthusiastically as one would expect considering how much time she spent with her beau. “We’re having fun, that’s for sure.”
“Your turn to spill,” Dana said, looking pointedly at Tamika. “Still haven’t heard from Anton?” She asked the question hesitantly because she knew he was a sensitive topic.
Tamika shook her head. “At least he followed through on his promise and drafted the contract for Calvin.”
She recalled the day the signed contract arrived from Calvin, hand-delivered by courier. When she realized Anton had kept his promise, she’d been extremely grateful and immediately sent him a text of thanks. She’d wanted to call and talk to him but had been too nervous and wasn’t sure what to say.
Anton completely threw her off her game. Her emotions were all over the place, up and down like a seesaw, as if she didn’t know her own mind. He texted backYou’re welcome, and that had been the last they communicated. But Calvin paid every week, as required by the contract, and that should be enough. It wasn’t.
“Well, eventually you’ll get your money back, which is a good thing,” Layla said.
“Until then, I have to figure out how to get the exposure that I had wanted for my business.” She’d planned to have a marketing blitz by running ads and sending out samples to popular bloggers. “I have to recalibrate, and I’m not sure how to. Based on the payment plan, it’ll be another twenty-three months before I get all my money back, which pushes me behind schedule.”
“If you need a loan…” Layla offered.
“No, you’ve done enough.” Tamika turned to Dana, whose mouth was open and was about to speak. “No, to you, too. I’ll figure this out. Push comes to shove, I’ll put the expenses on a credit card or ask my dad for a loan.”
“I hate you’re in this situation, but if you change your mind, my offer still stands,” Layla said.
“Same,” Dana said.
Grateful, Tamika looked at her best friends. She was lucky to have them. They not only helped her move out of the apartment before the landlord tossed her possessions in the street, they’d helped her get rid of the furniture and other items Calvin had left behind because, according to him, they weren’t good enough for his new place. One of Layla’s neighbors bought the furniture set in the living room, and Tamika donated the bedroom furniture to an organization where Dana volunteered, helping women transitioning out of abusive relationships.
“Instead of spending a lot of money running ads, is there a way for you to get some free publicity?” Dana asked.
“You mean like doing interviews? I’ve done that before, but it only does so much,” Tamika asked.
Layla snapped her fingers. “My boss has a list of media people that the PR department sends press releases to whenever the company is doing something in the community. Maybe I could hook you up with some of the people on the list? I’d have to talk to the PR department to see if it’s a possibility.”
“Are you serious? I mean, if you could do that, it would be great. But I’m small potatoes. Would they be interested in someone like me?”
“You have to find the right angle for them to want to do a write up on you. Let me talk to PR and see what they say. They might have some ideas.”
“You guys are truly the best. I promise, one day when I’m rich, you’re set for life.”
Layla laughed and pulled her into a one-armed hug. “I’ll be satisfied with free makeup for life.”
“Same,” Dana said with a grin.
“You have a deal,” Tamika said.
“Yay!” Dana said, clapping.
Tamika’s phone vibrated on the coffee table, and she picked it up. When she saw the number on the screen, her heart flew into her throat.
“What’s up?” Dana asked, instantly attuned to the change in Tamika.
“It’s him,” she whispered.
“Answer it!” Layla said.
They both knew she had been longing for more contact from Anton, but after the way they had parted, she didn’t have the confidence to reach out to him. Besides, she’d insinuated that their night together hadn’t meant much to her—going so far as to suggest sex with him hadn’t been great. Boy, did he prove her wrong the next day! She shuddered at the exquisite memories of their out-of-control passion and the way his hard body had angrily thrust into hers—from in front, from behind. How he’d growled, “Look at your ass. You’re a damn liar,” in her ear as she hollered through multiple orgasms and clawed the sheets.
She’d desperately wanted to reach out to him and admit she was wrong and wanted to see more of him. But what if he didn’t feel the same way? She’d be crushed.
But now he was calling, making her heart palpitate at a dangerously fast level.
Taking a fortifying breath, she answered the phone. “Hello?”
