Respect Me, Part 1 by Nia Arthurs

Sneak Peek! Respect Me Part II Chapter One

Jerrison

Patrick scowlsat his cell phone. “Aw, hell. The wife is calling me.”

My lips quirk in a tipsy smile, and I take another sip of my beer.

My cell phone is at my right hand.

It’s silent.

There’s no wife calling me anymore.

Loud music pulses with the intention of bursting our eardrums. Neon lights flash in hypnotic streams. The plush velvet booths set on a raised dais that overlook a packed dance floor.

Tonight is a themed celebration.

Futuristic indulgence.

Whoever decorated the place needs to be fired. Who told them that foil-covered napkin holders and chrome barstools was a good look?

A cheer breaks out from the dance floor.

I glance in that direction. Sigh when I see kids grinding on each other in a way that only youth and wild abandonment would call a good time. Heads tilted back. Mouths wide open at the ceiling.

The scene stinks of recklessness, bad decisions and mornings of regret.

My eyes trail back to the lousy decorations.

This establishment paraded itself as a bar, but it feels more like a nightclub. We’re the only men outside of their twenties who’ve chosen to spend our cash here.

Patrick and I are too old for this crap.

But maybe this is just what I need. Might as well drink my problems away in the lap of youthful decadence. It’s not like anything else I’ve done has solved the colossal crap storm that is my life.

I take another sip.

The liquor goes down warm and smooth.

Finally, some peace.

I deserve it after the month I’ve had.

Patrick’s cell phone goes off again. Rather than a jarring alarm, he’s assigned a custom sound. A dark piano riff, the kind that plays in horror movies when the serial killer is about to show up.

It’s the ring tone for his wife.

“You going to answer that?” I arch an eyebrow. Gesture to the phone vibrating near his left hand. A strobe light slashes against his wedding ring. Brings out the gold encircling his dark finger.

“I don’t want to.” He scowls.

“You guys are fighting again?”

“It’s more like a competition to see who can yell the loudest. Every conversation with her ends in a giant blow up.”

“What’s the problem?” I ask.

“Anything. Everything. If I breathe, it’s a problem.” He huffs in indignation. “I swear, if she ever shows me gratitude, I just might die of a heart attack.”

The cell phone stops ringing.

A moment of relative silence.

Then it starts again.

I grit my teeth. “Why don’t you just turn it off then?”

Patrick slants me a you can’t be serious look.

“What?” I smile behind my glass.

“Have you ever seen a human being turn into a fire-breathing dragon?”

I smirk. Shake my head.

“Stop by my house after I’ve ignored my wife’s calls. You’ll get plenty of experience.” He makes a dramatic sweep of his hand. “If she was anything like Harriet, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

I stiffen. “What does Harriet have to do with anything?”

“She’s the perfect wife.” Patrick squints at his cell phone. “Remember Fuentes’s party? That sappy speech about you she gave in front of everyone? I saw people tearing up, man. I thought I was at your vow renewal.”

I crumple a napkin and aim it at Patrick’s head. “Shut up.”

My tone is only half-joking. I can’t force the other half. Can’t fake the happiness.

That speech he’s referring to is the one that my wife gave… the night she left me.

Crap like that, you just can’t make up.

Patrick lifts his cell phone and glares at it. “Let me see what this woman wants to nag me about now.” He rolls his eyes. “Excuse me.”

Laughter is what he expects and I offer it to him. My chuckles are light. They rise on the current and meet the air, joining the carefree decadence surrounding me.

I’m one with the freedom.

I focus on my blessings instead of the ache in my chest.

This is good.

I’m good.

My hands? They’re totally bare.

No metal of any kind. Chains. Locks that clasp and tug before I’m ready.

It’s a breath of fresh air. A new lease on life.

Ever since Harriet left, I’ve been wallowing in my own self-pity. The stench of frustration and sorrow followed me everywhere I went.

It wasn’t because I missed her.

Hell no.

It’s a matter of pride. Decency. Even long-time friends give each other notice when they’re moving away.

Not my wife.

The woman with my last name. The woman I shared a bed with for more years than I can count.

Harriet left without warning.

Packed up and disappeared in the middle of the night.

No note. No explanation.

To make matters even worse, I didn’t even sense it coming. She spent two weeks before that night lifting me up—cooking me meals, ironing my clothes, waiting on me hand and foot. Perfection. A mirage.

Those two weeks were a part of her diabolical plan. Necessary steps in her nefarious intentions to ruin me.

Patrick returns to the table, his shoulders hiked and his hands tucked into fists. The strobe lights flash against his dark scowl made even more intimidating by his giant size. Long legs. Broad back. Muscles stuffed into a too-small dress shirt.

“What’s wrong?” I lean forward.

“She’s throwing a tantrum. Said something about finding an earring in my car.”

“I’m guessing it’s not hers.”

“It’s probably Elaine’s.” Patrick roughly hauls out his wallet and counts out the bills.

I stop him with a hand. “It’s on me tonight. It looks like you’ll need to spend a lot more on your wife to get her off your back.”

“I’m not spending a dime on her.” White teeth flash against thick lips and dark brown skin. “All it takes is a little smooth talking and a few nights in the dog house.”

“You sure you want to play it that way?”

“Why?” He scrubs his chin. “It’s not like she’s going to leave me.”

I swallow hard. “You don’t know that.”

Black eyes twinkle brighter than the mirrors behind the bar. “What’s with that look, man? You’re living large. You got a beautiful wife waiting for you at home and a smoking hot girlfriend dying to please you. Our business is booming. In fact, it’s skyrocketing since we signed the contract with Fuentes.”

The name sends alarm bells through my head.

My back stiffens.

My fingers tighten on the glass.

“Man,” booming laughter pours from his lips, “I really wasn’t onboard when you wanted to invest so much cash into that guy. It was a big gamble, you know? We’d be in serious trouble if he ever pulled out.”

I nearly choke on my guilt. “You should have stopped me.”

“Who could stop you when you’ve made up your mind, Jer?” He slaps my shoulder. Grins so hard his eyes disappear. “But I have to admit, you were right. Since we signed Fuentes, I’ve been getting business opportunities every day. People are coming to us.”

“We’re still getting calls from athletes who want representation?”

“They want to be in the same room as Fuentes. He has some serious pull in the industry. I don’t know what it is about him, but people seem to trust every word from his mouth.”

“They do, don’t they?” I murmur darkly.

“It must be all that ‘I’m a man of integrity’ crap. He’s built a platform on that goody-two shoes image.” Patrick slips his wallet back into his pocket. “I wish more of our athletes were like that. I’m tired of cleaning up their baby mama drama and drug scandals, you know?”

My eyes shift away. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have to get to your wife?”

“You’re right.” He checks his watch and steps back. “See you Monday. Don’t party too hard with your girlfriend tonight.”

I force a smile. Wave.

Carefree. Happy. I make it look easy.

The moment Patrick turns the bend, the grin fades and I sink into the booth. My arms flail against the velvet cushions. My legs spread out as I sink deeper and deeper.

Damn.

Patrick’s over the moon about Fuentes. I haven’t had the heart to tell him about the rookie’s ultimatum. Work it out with your wife or I leave.

I squeeze my eyes shut. The raucous music seeps beneath my skin and rattles my brain. My heart thuds in time to the bass, a pounding warning I’m desperate to ignore.

It’s not like I intended for things to get this chaotic.

And I did try to fix it.

Last week, I went to see Doc at Harriet’s insistence.

Total waste of time.

I tumbled from my pedestal to join the lowly ranks of a mechanic’s assistant.

Bull.

I didn’t work my butt off so I could sweat for an hour in a garage filled with broken-down cars. I didn’t build a successful company so I could hand an old man wrenches and watch him drink lemon water on his work breaks. I didn’t pour my blood into my first recruits so Doc could kick me out of his shop when it was all over.

‘I can’t help someone who isn’t interested,’ he said. ‘Take a week and decide if you really want this.’

Screw him.

Since the moment I left Doc’s shop, I’ve been living large and forgetting that mechanic even exists. He thinks he can tell me what to do just because Harriet’s so enamored with him? My wife and I are very different.

“Excuse me,” a voice chirps by my right. “Are you alone?”

I smile in welcome at the pretty blonde wearing a barely-there top and a skirt so short I can see her left butt-cheek.

“Do you mind if me and my friends join you?” She does a cute little lip bite. “There aren’t any other tables so…”

“You can have mine.” I get up.

She wraps her hands around my wrist and holds tight. “Don’t go.”

My chest swells just a bit. “How about I buy you ladies a drink and we can get to know each other?”

Her friends squeal and file in on either side of me. I stretch my hands over the back of the booth and the ladies crowd in. Someone’s leg is over my thigh. Someone’s hand falls on my chest.

The waiter comes and I’m in heaven.

“Buy them whatever they want.” I slip him my card.

“You’re so handsome.” Blondie strokes my tie, making my pants tighten in anticipation. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

My head dips to hers. A roaming hand falls around her waist. She’s soft against me. Smells like flowers.

I’m about to whisper in her ear when I feel someone’s gaze burning into me.

I whip my head up.

Stall my movements.

Fuentes is standing directly in my line of sight. The rookie with my company’s biggest investment in his hands shakes his head in disgust.

My heart sinks to my toes.

“Are you okay?” Blondie asks.

My eyes remain on Fuentes.

He turns sharply and marches out of sight. The kid hasn’t said a word, but I know exactly what he’s thinking. This guy didn’t take me seriously? I’m going to break the contract.

I scramble up. Roughly shove the blonde from where she was half-sitting on my lap.

Fuentes is gone.

But his disdain lingers on my skin, an oily cast that I can’t scrub off.

This is bad. Very bad.

All the alcohol leaves my system.

As sobriety takes its place, I choke down a spoonful of reality.

Rebelling against Doc is what I want to do, but following that instinct will ruin me.

I have no choice.

I have to go back to the mechanic.

And I have to do everything he says in order to fix my marriage.

* * *

If you wantto see how Doc helps this broken marriage change course, grab Respect Me: Part II on Amazonhere.