Hidden Intentions 2

Book 2: Hidden Intentions

by Meisha Camm

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Upon the sudden and tragic death of his father, Tory’s marital bliss comes to a halt. His wife, Nya, and his family members try to help Tory cope with the pain of losing his father, but instead of choosing to have his arms around Nya, Tory chooses to have his lips constantly around an alcohol bottle. Tory vanishes, and Nya looks for him with the help of local law enforcement and a hired private investigator. Unfortunately, no one turns up anything.

After a while, Nya gives up hope of ever finding Tory. The thought of not knowing what happened to him will always be in the back of her mind, but it’s time for her to move on. She meets a man named Vince Rappaport. Their talks turn into friendship, and the friendship turns into love. For the first time in a long time, Nya is happy to wake up in the morning.

After years missing in action, Tory shows back up on her doorstep. He desperately wants to restore their crumbled marriage. Has he given up alcohol once and for all? Does she still love him? As her past confronts her future, what will Nya decide?

Release date: May 16, 2014

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

“Tonight, I have a surprise for you,” Tory announced as we headed toward the truck.

Besides the occasional “I-feel-fat” feeling, mixed with bloating, and more than four sixteen-hour shifts a month at the hospital, things were going well for me. My life couldn’t get any better. Once a month, Tory and I took an entire weekend to ourselves. We turned the BlackBerrys off and didn’t dare log on to our laptops. Being able to spend time alone and get some much-needed rest was a true luxury.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked buckling my seatbelt.

I was wearing my infamous grape-colored velour set with dark grey New Balance sneakers. Tory secretly desired to burn it. I wore it every chance I got. It was my most comfortable outfit. I was into fashion just as much as the next woman, but I wasn’t willing to squeeze myself into some tight-ass clothes just to look good. Those sixteen-hour shifts on my feet at the hospital taught me that sacrificing comfort over style and fashion was a no-no.

“Baby, please do what you do best and ride in the passenger seat!” Tory snickered as he pulled out of the driveway.

Tory had upgraded to a silver Range Rover truck with the complete luxury package, GPS and all. I didn’t believe in high monthly car payments, but we had budgeted for the vehicle to be paid off in two years and had one more year to go. I couldn’t wait to click the enter button and submit the last payment to Online Bill Pay.

As soon as that car’s paid off, we can celebrate, I thought. One of those payments could pay for a cruise and a roundtrip airfare to the island of St. Lucia for the both of us. If I know Tory though, he’ll try to convince me to buy another car instead of going anywhere.

I still had my Camry, which Tory had been nagging me to get rid of for something else. Another “something else” hadn’t been through thick and thin with me. Besides, it was the sentimental value. My parents had bought me that car. Not to mention, Toyotas, especially Camrys, hold their value.

“Whatever. I do my one-third of driving,” I replied, a slight grin on my face, folding my arms across my chest.

“We both know that. I’m just playing.” Tory kept his left hand on the wheel as his right hand caressed my thigh.

“You’re supposed to drive. Daddy did it for Mommy. It’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“Who said?”

“I’m saying it. This is Nya’s world, and you’re a key player in it.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to step up to the plate and honor your driving rules.”

We both busted out laughing.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you too,” he said, popping in a John Coltrane CD.

“So this is the place you’ve been keeping a secret?” I felt the crisp autumn air when I hopped out of the truck. I should’ve have put on a jacket.

“Yup. Until now. I want to show you the place, you know, to see what you think.” He grabbed my right hand to lead the way.

Tory was a silent partner in Thai Temple, a new Thai restaurant at the Loehmann’s Plaza Shopping Center in Virginia Beach. His college buddy, Rome, had the idea, and Tory had put up fifty percent of the finances. I loved to see my man venturing out in other projects.

Dressed in an orange polo shirt and jeans, Tory was looking quite handsome. I was having one of those moments where I was grateful he was all mine. We had our moments where I wasn’t feeling so grateful, but the feeling was only temporary.

“It doesn’t look open. When is the grand opening?”

“For us, it’s tonight.” Tory placed the key in the door. Upon entering, he entered the code for the Brink’s security system.

“All right.” I snickered.

“Let me give you a tour.”

When I first walked in, I noticed a fish mural on the left-hand side. A little farther in was the bar area, complete with any alcohol and champagne a customer could ask for. To the right was the dining area, which held ten booths and ten tables, ranging from small to large.

The smell of his Unforgivable cologne lingered in the air. The kitchen was spacious, clean, and came with the latest appliances. Thai décor, with photos, artwork, lamps, and sculptures, was displayed throughout the entire restaurant. Most of all, I really admired the light fixtures. Eventually we ended up back at the bar.

“Did you hear that noise?” I turned my head back toward the kitchen.

“Yeah. It’s your surprise. Follow me.” Tory looked at a text on his cell phone.

“What are you up to?”

“Just wait and see,” he said as we entered through the kitchen doors.

“Aah,” a man called out and extended his hand to me. “This must be Nya.”

“Nya, this is Rome, part-owner and one hundred percent chef of the restaurant.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, giving him a handshake.

“Likewise, Nya. You are very beautiful.” Rome put on an apron. “This man doesn’t stop talking about you. I feel as if I’ve known you for some time.” Rome wore a black T-shirt with light blue jeans and black Converse. His hair was spiky, and he had a nice set of pearly white teeth.

“Thank you very much. If I may ask, who came up with your name?”

“My father is from Thailand, and my mother is Italian. Her favorite city is Rome.”

“Interesting.”

Tory butted in. “So are we ready to get started?”

“Get started with what?”

“Well, I’m going to show both of you how to cook. Your husband picked some pretty good choices. On the menu for tonight, we’re preparing spring rolls for an appetizer, pad thai with chicken and shrimp for you, Nya. Plus, beef siam with fresh steamed broccoli and white rice for Tory.

“Hmm. I’m getting hungry already,” I said, grabbing aprons for Tory and I from the counter. “Let’s get started.”

“Rome, thanks for everything,” Tory said.

“The food was great. Maybe, I might cook this at home. Plus, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” I added after washing the last dish.

“You’re right. It’s really not. Time, effort, and nothing but fresh ingredients make a meal delicious. Nya, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Likewise.”

“Tory, I’ll touch base with you next week. Thirty days till the grand opening!” Rome exclaimed and took a deep breath.

“It’s going to fly by. All the kinks have been worked out with the permits. The hardest one was getting the liquor license and that’s in the past. Let’s look toward the future of this place becoming the hottest spot for Thai cuisine in the Hampton Roads area of Virginia.”

“All right, man.” Rome smiled, shook hands with Tory, and let himself out the back door.

“Thank you, baby,” I whispered almost in tears. “This was so nice.”

Lately, I’d been getting teary-eyed at the slightest thing. I wasn’t this way before. It must have had something to do with the new birth control I was taking.

“You’re welcome. It’s not often we get to cook together.”

“Yeah, it’s not often we get to be together,” I hinted in his ear, taking off his belt and kissing him on the lips.

After sliding his jeans and boxer shorts down his ankles, I looked up, gave him a devilish grin, and put his python into my mouth. His head rolled back while he gently caressed the back of my head. Switching from deep-throating him to just sucking the top of his dick drove him crazy.

Soon after, Tory lifted me up and sat me on the countertop. He quickly took off my pants and cranberry-colored thong and wasted no time entering my soaking pussy. While giving me deep thrusts, he hoisted up my shirt and matching colored bra to stare at my breasts. He loved seeing my plump melons bounce up and down. Once he grabbed one, I quickly tightened my vagina around his dick, ready to come.

“Nya, damn! Hmm! I’m about to come!”

“I know you want to,” I said, looking into his eyes.

We came together. Both of us needed it, to relieve tension, I especially, since working many hours made my body very stiff.

“Thank you for helping me christen the restaurant. Next time, I want it from the back with you bent over a booth,” Tory said before collapsing on my chest.

I giggled. “You’re welcome anytime.”

An aroma of hot cocoa lingering in the air and the sounds from the television cooking show, Turn Up the Heat with G. Garvin, woke me up. I waited for a commercial to come on then hurried to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. His version of bacon-wrapped scallops, surf and turf, and chocolate mousse was just a few of the recipes I’d tried. I think I was becoming a great cook. At least, Tory seemed to like whatever was on his plate. The real test was my father though, a picky eater who didn’t eat just anyone’s food. Golden Corral and whatever Mommy decided to feed him suited him just fine.

Tory entered the bedroom with a bunch of goodies in his hands just as I was making up the bed. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Hey.” I gave him a peck on the lips. Hot cocoa with three marshmallows and a touch of vanilla in one of my favorite snowman mugs, grilled ham, grits with a small slather of butter, and a crisp Belgian waffle drizzled with syrup awaited me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Since I’ve been so busy, I don’t get the pleasure of making you breakfast in bed. Nya, things are going to change. Since completing my last project, work is going to slow down for me anyway. Irvin is surprised you haven’t divorced me yet.”

“Well, I’ve been working long hours too. I miss our time together, but I know it will not always be like this.”

“Drug Aid called you and left a voice mail to pick up your birth control. Now, I don’t think you’ll be needing it.”

“Me either. You’ll be a daddy in no time, with my fertile behind.” I nestled in his arms.

“Eat up, Mrs. Sothers. Before I cooked you breakfast, I went to the gym, but I still want to take a quick run around the neighborhood. I laid out an exercise outfit with a sweatshirt for you, along with your running sneakers. I know how easy it is for you to get cold.” Tory pointed to the clothes on the couch.

Yes, I’d married a closet gym junkie. Tory didn’t act like this at first, but after a year, I started noticing he was going to the gym every day. It seemed like he couldn’t function unless he did. He claimed it was his way of getting out most of his frustrations.

I’d always said I could never be with someone who needed to work out every day, but now I didn’t mind, because I was reaping the benefits of having muscles all over my body.

Tory and I strolled past the ticket counter at the packed MacArthur Center mall. It was the premiere night for the movie American Gangster. I was relieved that I’d purchased the tickets online.

Ten years ago, a movie ticket would have cost $5.75. Those were the days, I thought, entering theatre number four.

After I’d gulped down half of my cherry Slush Puppie and took a few bites of lightly buttered popcorn, people started entering in droves. I made a mental note of the sneak previews of The Spiderwick Chronicles, Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, The Eye, and Ice Cube’s latest, First Sunday, to see once they were released.

“Did you like the movie?” I asked Tory as we were heading to the car.

“Loved it.”

“Me too.”

“It’s almost that time.” He looked down at his watch before paying the parking toll.

“I can’t wait for an all-night marathon of CSI: Miami.”

I turned up the volume on the radio to John Legend’s song, “Again.”

Twenty minutes later, we were home and getting ready for our late-night marathon.

“Did you have a chance to go to the store and pick up a bottle of rainbow sprinkles?” I inquired, rummaging through the pantry.

“Nya, I’m sorry. Completely forgot about it. While you were visiting your parents earlier, I stayed home and took a nap. I meant to go after I woke up, but it slipped my mind. Let me go right now and get you a bottle. I need to pick up some more Edy’s chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream anyway. I ate the last scoop on Thursday night.”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to. We’ll go tomorrow.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’ll be right back. Farm Fresh is around the corner,” Tory said, putting his jacket on.

Almost two hours later, Tory still hadn’t come back. I was just about to dial his cell phone for what seemed like the hundredth time when the house phone rang.

“Hello,” I answered on the first ring.

“Nya, I’m glad you’re up!” Steven, Tory’s older brother, exclaimed.

“What’s wrong?” I was getting a horrible feeling deep down in my stomach.

“There’s been a terrible accident. I’m right outside in your driveway. Come with me so we can go to the hospital.”

“What happened to Tory?”

“I’ll explain everything I know when you get in the car.”

Thankfully, I still had my clothes on. Desperate to know how my future would be impacted, I almost fell, hurrying down the stairs, but somehow managed to get outside of my house in one piece.

Dark clouds and a mist of heartfelt sorrow filled the air as hundreds of people gathered at Mount Grove Harvest Church. Now, standing at the gravesite alongside Evelyn and Anne, Tory’s mother and sister, I was wondering how we made it through the closed-casket service. Not one, but two portraits of him hung in the church. Numbness, and thinking this was a bad dream that I desperately wanted to wake up from best described how I felt.

I couldn’t get out of my head the preacher chanting over and over again, “Instead of mourning, let’s celebrate his life.”

I just wanted to ask God, “Why did he die? And why now?”

It was complete silence in the car while driving to the gravesite.

Looking down as the funeral workers lowered his bronze, gold-trimmed casket into the grave, I couldn’t celebrate. His life was cut too short. He’s gone, I thought, wiping my eyes with the eleventh tissue today.

Tory’s father, George H. Sothers, had died of a massive heart attack, which happened while he was sitting in his favorite La-Z-Boy recliner. He’d tried to get up and dial 9-1-1, but Evelyn found him face down in the living room. He was later pronounced dead at the hospital.

Mr. Sothers, a pack-a-day smoker for thirty-two years, had vowed to quit smoking four months earlier. The doctors thought his heavy cigarette smoking was a big contributing factor in his death.

Formerly a mathematics professor at Norfolk State University, just a month ago he had received the Professor of the Year award. His colleagues, faculty members, students, and friends flooded the church and gravesite to give their condolences.

Out of his two sons and daughter, Tory, who was at the store when he’d received the news and rushed over to the hospital, took the loss of their father the worst. Since his father’s passing, except for checking on his mother every morning, all he did was lay in bed or sleep all day. When I tried talking to him, he would tell me he wanted to be left alone. Because I was his wife and best friend, I didn’t take it personally. People grieve in different ways.

Tory’s boss, Irvin, and his wife had also attended the funeral. Yvette, Leah, Tara, and their husbands all came to express their condolences to Tory and his family. Besides Tara, none of us had experienced the pain of losing a parent.

The gracious ladies from the church handled the repast, which took place in the basement of the church. They prepared Mr. Sothers’ favorite dishes including roast beef with potatoes and carrots, fried chicken, and ham biscuits.

“He’s with t. . .