Secrets of a One Night Stand by Naima Simone

Sixteen

Mycah glanced up from blindly studying her computer screen when she heard the knock on her open office door. She forced a strained smile, waving Kenan Rhodes inside, although her stomach tightened, and it had nothing to do with morning sickness.

He returned the smile, closing the door behind him.

Her belly pitched harder.

If they were going to fire her, they would send the charmer to do it. Sugar with medicine and all that.

She should be worried about losing her job, but as she met his blue-gray gaze, all she could think about was another man with those eyes. A man she hadn’t seen in two eternally long days and nights. A man she couldn’t evict from her thoughts. A man who’d entered her life, ravaged it like a midnight storm and left her irrevocably altered.

He’d claimed she’d changed him.

No, Achilles had it wrong. He was the perfect storm. And her?

Apparently, a storm chaser.

But that was over. And she stood alone. Again. Shivering in the cold. By choice? Maybe. Yes. God, but it didn’t feel like it. She’d just been trying to protect herself, protect her career. Was that so selfish?

Protect yourself?

Or hide behind your career?

She silently cursed at that annoying voice that wouldn’t shut up—that had refused to shut up—these past two days.

“I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.” Kenan dipped his head toward the visitor’s chair in front of her desk, silently requesting permission to sit. She nodded, and he sank into it. “You did a great job at the press conference.”

She grimaced at the mention of the short press conference the PR department arranged that morning to address the article. It’d been held in the lobby of the building. Mycah had made a short statement and had refused any questions.

“Thank you. It’s a sad day when a businesswoman has to make a public statement about the status of her womb.” She released a sound somewhere between disgust and relief. “I’m just glad it’s over. At least that part of it. How are Cain and Devon doing?”

Kenan rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. “Disgustingly okay with going around exhibiting extra displays of public affection to dismiss rumors of his defection.” He sobered, the smile fading from his lips. “They’ll be fine. Neither one of them are strangers to public scrutiny. How are you doing? In the spirit of full disclosure, Cain and I spent the evening with Achilles a couple of nights ago.”

A deep, bright ache bloomed in her chest, and she shifted her gaze from his, unable to look into those eyes any longer.

“How is he?” she rasped.

“Not good,” he said bluntly. She whipped her head back toward him. “But he’ll be okay.”

“I suppose you and Cain resent me. I can’t say that I blame you.”

“For what? Giving Achilles a reason to stay here in Boston?” Kenan arched an eyebrow. “Cain might think he did that with his caveman ‘You stay here’ speech, but I know it was you. You and the baby. His love for you. You brought my brother to life. I could never resent you for that.”

“I broke his heart,” she whispered.

“Yes, you did.”

“C’mon, Kenan.” She leaned forward, her fingers curling into her palm. Her chest rose and fell on her elevated breaths. What game was he playing? Part of her wanted, needed, him to lash out at her. Punishment? “He had to tell you my reasons for not wanting to reveal he’s the father of our baby just yet. Or why he believes I don’t want to tell anyone.”

“I understand what he believes. I also understand your reasons.” Kenan reclined in the chair, elbows propped on the arms, fingers steepled under his chin. “Mycah, do you watch football?”

She frowned, confused at the sudden switch in subject. “I live in Boston. Will saying no get me fired?”

“Possibly. Probably. So just plead the fifth. Anyway, nearly seventy percent of the NFL players are Black. But fewer than ten percent of the coaches are Black. And if one of those coaches are fired? It’s almost impossible for them to acquire another coaching position in the league or even college. While if a white coach is let go, he might have two or three more jobs with different teams, just in the league alone.”

He lowered his arms, his gaze bright, intense. For the first time since meeting the youngest Farrell brother, she glimpsed another side of him.

“The society we exist in isn’t set up for minorities to win. And when we do make our own opportunities and lose them for some reason? Fail? That same system isn’t set up for our recovery. It’s different for the white male—and to an extent, the white woman—because they can fail, can come back for a second and third chance, and go even higher, achieve even more. But not us. We won’t be the first rehired, and chances are slimmer that we’ll achieve that pinnacle again within the same company. Is it any wonder we’re in a constant dogfight where we battle like hell not to give in, never to fail because we know the odds of recovering aren’t there? That if we’re going to make it, we’re going to have to do it outside a rigged system? So yes, Mycah, I get it.” He nodded. “I get why you guard your career so fiercely. You’re a Black woman who has a lot to lose.” He paused, cocked his head, studied her for a long moment. “And if that’s all there was to it, I would leave it alone. Because as a Black man in the same society, I’m the last person to stand in your way.”

The relief from being understood chilled at his cryptic words. “What’re you talking about, if that’s all there was to it?”

His expression softened. “I meant it when I said we’re from the same world, Mycah. Our families are...very similar.” An emotion too quick to decipher flashed in his eyes. “Another thing Achilles can’t really understand but I do. The responsibility toward them. And I may be a complete hypocrite right now, but you can’t live your life for them. For an approval that is based on conditions. Because there will always be more conditions. Unachievable stipulations. Impossible goals. And you’ll lose yourself trying to obtain them. And one day you’ll wake up and realize that while they’ve been living their lives, yours has passed you by with nothing to show for it. Nothing but the reflection of someone else’s dreams for you instead of your own.”

“Yes,” she said, fear, sadness and pain clogging her throat. Pressing against her chest. She briefly closed her eyes. “Yes.”

That’s all she could say and yet, it captured everything. Just as Kenan had.

Achilles believed she was ashamed of him. That she didn’t want to tell her parents about the pregnancy because of that shame, and nothing could be further from the truth. She couldn’t be more proud to have him as the father of her baby. There was no other man she wanted but him. The embarrassment belonged to her. Because as soon as she shared the news with her parents, they would use it...twist it. She harbored no doubts about that, about who they were. So she’d longed to keep this special news—their baby—between them for just a little while longer before she had no choice. Keep it pure and just theirs.

But her parents had managed to ruin it anyway.

No. The truth opened up inside her like a lamp clicking on, chasing away the darkness. No, she couldn’t place all of this on them.

Because in the end, these were her choices, and the time had come to accept the truth and own those choices.

Yes, she’d worked all these years to establish a career she could be proud of, to provide for her family. But she also used both as a way to protect her heart from further hurt, to shield herself from rejection and the pain of being deemed unworthy, never good enough. While her parents had never said the words, while her employers had never written them on a review, the implications had always been that she’d had to work twice as hard, be twice as good... And she’d done everything to achieve a goal that would always be this dangling, golden carrot.

But Achilles... She huffed out a chuckle that ended on a soft sob.

Achilles had never asked her to be anyone but herself. He’d never asked her to decrease herself so he could be increased. He had loved her for herself—flaws and all. He’d worshipped those flaws, loved her because of them, not in spite of them. But she’d allowed her fears to prevent her from claiming him for herself even though she so desperately longed to.

Because she loved him.

God, she loved him.

And she was living in fear of rejection, of disapproval.

Of loss.

No matter the consequences of living in the light and out loud, she’d willingly face them. If that meant whisper campaigns from business colleagues, a hit to her reputation, ostracism from her family—so be it.

She was going to claim the life she wanted and finally, finally live it. And if he’d have her, she was going to claim the love of her life.

“So are we going to do this?” Kenan asked.

She startled, almost forgetting he still sat in the office with her. Glancing at him, she smiled.

“Oh, we are so doing this.”

“Good.” He clapped his hands together, rubbing them, a grin of what could be called only glee spreading across his handsome face. “Did I ever tell you how I single-handedly saved Cain and Devon’s relationship? True story.”