Free Grown Folks Business by Victoria Christopher Murray Page B

Quentin pressed his lips (and other parts of his body) against her. But no matter what she said, no matter what she did, Quentin never wavered.
    “This is God’s plan,” he said, as if he’d been born with a triple dosage of willpower.
    Sheridan had never understood Quentin. Most of her girlfriends had been having sex since high school. Although she hadn’t been ready then, now, she was a nineteen-, almost twenty-year-old college student.
    She was ready, but Quentin was not willing.
    So when Quentin had taken her to breakfast for what she thought was a normal date and asked her to marry him, she’d wanted to grab his hand and sprint to City Hall. She loved him and couldn’t wait to make love to him. She had no doubt they were made to be married to each other. No doubt at all—until everyone else voiced theirs.
    But no one’s spoken fears had stopped them, and on that day seventeen years ago, Sheridan and Quentin had taken the step to prove the world wrong.
    By the end of their first year of marriage, it was clear that they’d known best. Although the two struggled to juggle school schedules and part-time jobs, and to pay bills that at times were overwhelming, still, they were delirious with happiness and much better together than apart. Five years into their marriage, Quentin was a licensed doctor and Sheridan was thrilled to be his wife and the stay-at-home mother of four-year-old Christopher.
    “We were meant to be, Quentin,” Sheridan whispered, as she watched the rain. “What happened?”
    “Hey, girl,” Kamora said, bolting into the office.
    Sheridan wiped away the tears she hadn’t, until that moment, realized were there. By the time she turned to Kamora, a plastic smile spread across her face.
    Kamora hugged her friend. “I’m so glad to see you.”
    “I’m glad to see you too.”
    Kamora stepped back, stared at Sheridan, then waved her hand in the air. “Stop lying.”
    Sheridan chuckled. “No, really. I’m glad you talked me into having lunch with you.” She lifted her purse as Kamora slipped into her orange leather jacket.
    “Who said we were having lunch?” Kamora gathered her hair into a ponytail and wrapped a band around it. “I never mentioned food.” She hooked her arm through Sheridan’s and led her across the floor of her spacious office. “We’re going to have a lot more fun than just throwing down some catfish and greens. We’re going shopping.”
    Sheridan groaned. “Kamora, I’m not in the mood. It’s raining.”
    “So? We’re going to take one of my cars.”
    “I don’t like to shop,” Sheridan whined, thinking of all the times her friend had dragged her through stores looking for that perfect outfit for that perfect date with that perfect man.
    “And you think I care about what you like?” Kamora joked.
    “I think you’re being a bit insensitive considering what I’m going through.”
    “That’s exactly why we’re going. Think about it. There are a lot of ways to get back at Quentin—”
    Sheridan’s mind rushed back to last night. “I have to give this a chance,” was what Quentin had said.
    Kamora continued, “—and we’ll think about all the ways to really give it to him later. But for now, we’re going to spend your husband’s money.”
    “I never exposed you to anything, Sheridan.”
    Kamora said, “Think about it. Those designer clothes waiting with your name on them. And then imagine the look on Quentin’s face when he gets the bill.” Kamora giggled.
    “The things that happened between me and Jett…”
    “Where are we going?”
    “That’s my girl.” They stepped into the elevator. “I was thinking about Rodeo Drive. Only the best for Dr. Hart’s wife. After all, that’s where he shops.”
    When they exited the elevator, one of the sleek black town cars from Kamora’s limousine company, Ride and Shine, was waiting for them. Before they took two steps toward the car, the driver’s door opened and a Shemar Moore look-alike