Page 17 of Defending the Post (The Complexity of Love #3)

Chapter Nine

First Everything

Erin

M y system was in overdrive as I listened to Marquise curse out Noah. Mentally, I screamed for him to stop but none of the words left my mouth until I heard bitch . I side-eyed Jhae, but she stood stunned.

Malcolm’s cackling pulled me out of the zone. He curled over the table in laughter. I searched the space for something to toss at Marquise. Settling on the fruit, I moved to the counter, retrieved an apple, and threw it at his head. He dodged me with ease.

“This ain’t the carnival. Weirdo, we got shit to do,” he said.

Air trapped in my chest as rage consumed me. I let the party slide, but this caused me to tremble. Marquise strolled toward me, but my anger wouldn’t allow me to move. He snapped his fingers in my face, and I threw punches at his chest.

“What the hell is wrong with youuuu?” I screamed with each punch.

The fact he didn’t block any of my punches angered me more. He caught my hands before any more could land on his body.

“Did you get that out of your system? You see what he thought about you? He called you a bitch. I’m watching out for you,” he said.

My face expanded as my eyes widened at his comment. “ You called and picked a fight with Noah and you want me to thank you?” I screamed.

“If I was Jhae, you wouldn’t give a damn. Because I’m a man, you’re mad. You are not about to be sleeping with me every night and entertaining other dudes,” he said.

Using his gender to justify his reasoning required multiple levels of audacity. When my body elevated, it took me several minutes to figure out what was happening.

“We out. It’s Saturday. Are we having a family dinner?” Marquise asked as my head dangled, leaving his back as my view.

“Yea, I can handle dinner,” Malcolm said.

Marquise turned, and the space between Jhae and I grew.

“Jhae!” I yelled, and she shrugged.

“Put me down now!” I yelled as he shut the door.

“You gon’ behave?” he asked.

I counted to ten to regain control of the words trying to leave my mouth. “I’m twenty-six years old, not twelve. Put me the fuck down,” I demanded.

Marquise lowered me to the ground, and I tried side-stepping him, but he turned me around. The elevator doors opened, and he nudged me inside.

“I can’t believe you called him,” I said.

Marquise didn’t say anything, instead, he watched the numbers descend to the lower level. The doors opened, and I speed walked to the hellcat. With each step, I imagined myself stomping on his head.

“We’re not taking the hellcat today,” Marquise yelled, standing next to his black Infiniti QX truck.

He pointed to the passenger side, and I angled my head. Why are you leaving with him? I squared my shoulders, walking his direction but breaking out into a sprint. Marquise caught me with no effort escorting me to the passenger side.

“Get in or I’ll call everybody on this phone,” he said as he opened my door.

I rolled my eyes and climbed inside, yanking the seat belt over my shoulder. Marquise circled the front of the car sitting on the driver’s side. He pushed the start button, and the seats moved.

“Malcolm been driving my shit,” he said, as he re-adjusted things to his liking.

I rolled my eyes, not being able to fully appreciate the maroon leather interior and tinted windows.

Marquise handed me my cell phone, and I snatched it from his hand. He chuckled as I turned away.

“Even when you’re mad, you’re beautiful,” he said, and we pulled out of the parking spot.

Me

Jhae, why didn’t you help me?

I texted as we pulled onto the freeway.

Jhae

How? Shit, I was stunned.

“Bestie, you need to talk. It’s too quiet,” Marquise instructed.

I twisted the knob, increasing the volume of the radio station. With one button, he turned it off, leaving behind silence.

We hit traffic, bringing us to a standstill. Marquise didn’t allow me to breathe before pulling me to him.

“Erin!” he yelled my name.

He cupped my chin, turning my face to him. “I know you ain’t mad because I helped you get rid of Noah’s punk ass.”

“No, I’m mad because you violated my space. Do I touch your phone when those whores message you?” I questioned.

I heard his phone going off last night on a bathroom run. He was dead asleep. I could’ve read the home screen, but it wasn’t my place. He sat his phone in my lap.

“The code is 000214 Khaira’s birthday. Have fun,” he said.

Beep! Beep!

The horn sounded off behind us. Marquise moved an inch before returning his attention to me. I sat his phone in the cup holder lending him the respect he didn’t give me. The remainder of the ride to wherever we were going was spent in silence.

We pulled onto what I assumed was a college campus with its tall glass buildings mirroring each other in style.

The shoe statue in the front exposed this was a business.

Pulling into the parking garage, Marquise backed into a VIP spot near the door.

I unbuckled my seat belt, only for my body to be moved toward him.

Glaring up into his unserious brown eyes, anger still coated my skin.

“I’m sorry for invading your space. I should’ve called him from my phone,” Marquise said.

Before I could object, he pecked my lips twice. The quickness in which he moved didn’t allow me to savor the taste or the texture of his lips.

“Don’t be mad at me. You got me acting soft, and it’s annoying,” he said.

I moved forward and kissed him again but deeper. Our tongues rolled as we tasted each other. My body heated as we shared our first moment of intimacy. He broke our kiss, and I exhaled, realizing I gave into my desires.

“Best friends don’t kiss,” he said.

“You inviting other people into our friendship?” I countered, and he smirked.

As soon as I said those words, instant regret covered me. The lines I worked hard to rebuild this past week were gone.

Entering the elevator, I licked my lips, replaying my impulsive behavior, and kicked myself.

With Marquise holding my hand, I couldn’t shuffle to the opposite side.

I knew the kiss changed us by how gently he treated us connecting.

The doors opened to a bright orange and red Noise Level Shoes sign and to his mother, Anissa.

Marquise strengthened his grip on my hand, tugging me toward the lobby. I can kiss that opportunity goodbye.

Anissa smirked in my direction before giving Marquise a half hug. The last time we met, I assured her Marquise and I were friends.

“Let me do all the talking. We’re not dealing with Mark today but his brother, Axel. He is a misogynistic asshole. Do not react,” she told Marquise, and I stilled at her sternness.

“Anissa, Marquise, and. . .”

“Erin, my creative director for social media and crisis management,” Anissa answered.

Marquise smiled as if he wasn’t the crisis she was referring to and management was pushing it. He controlled too much of whatever this was between us.

“Please follow me,” a young woman instructed.

We followed the assistant to the conference room with a view of the front of the campus. Anissa took the first seat. Marquise sat beside her, and I skipped a seat as I was overwhelmed by everything happening.

Marquise twisted the empty seat next to him in my direction. “Look Erin, here is an empty seat. You should sit in it,” he suggested.

“I’m okay where I am. I want to observe The Shark,” I said, and Anissa chuckled.

“You can observe from here,” he countered, patting the chair.

I gave him pleading eyes, but he ignored them, pushing his seat back. To keep the peace, I moved closer. Marquise reached underneath the table, but I swatted his hand away.

“Anissa,” a deep voice said.

A bald man with a gray beard entered the space, but he didn’t extend his hand toward Anissa. She also didn’t initiate the gesture.

“Axel,” Mrs. Shaw-Jefferies said dryly.

“Marquise, it’s good to see you. Your antics on the court have been good for sales. Several of the colors have sold out twice,” Axel said.

“And you are,” he turned toward me.

“She is my creative director and crisis management, Erin,” Anissa interrupted.

Silence coated the room before Axel spoke.

“Marquise, you and Malcolm signed a two-year deal, and it’s up as of next month. Noise Level Shoes would prefer to extend the deal with you and Malcolm of course,” Axel said.

“And that’s why we are here, Axel. I do hope we can continue our relationship. What are the terms of your best offer?” Anissa interrupted, bringing Axel’s eyes back in her direction.

A hand brushed against my leg, pulling my attention away. Marquise gripped my hand and tried to pull it on top of the table. I pinched his hand, and he chuckled.

“I propose we keep things the same but extend them for an additional two years. Things are going smoothly, no need to disrupt the flow,” he said.

Anissa peered over at Marquise before turning her head back to Axel.

“Things have changed. Marquise and Malcolm will each be pursuing five percent ownership in their brand with the company, including some creative control of their shoe branding,” she said.

Axel sat up in his seat and chuckled.

“Have you lost your mind, Anissa?” he asked.

“Me losing my mind would’ve been asking for twenty five percent.

But I’m being generous. Malcolm and Marquise’s shoes out pace any other shoes you produce.

Not including the apparel and driving traffic to this company.

My clients alone make up more than half of the roster.

Since the twins are your brand, we want some ownership. ”

“Anissa!”

“Let me stop you before you begin. Anything that’s not agreeing to the proposed deal, consider it null and void.

After your stock plummets, we’ll negotiate fifty percent company ownership instead of the brand.

You know me, Axel, I will empty your client list faster than the oil change on your overpriced car collection,” she interrupted, bringing the room to an uncomfortable silence.