Page 2 of Mr. Blackwood

When we all stared at her and I asked, “What?” in puzzled wonder, she stared back at us like duh before she explained. “A billionaire I’d like to fuck.”

We all laughed and shook our heads. “Girl, you’re too old to be robbing the cradle like that,” Britt remarked, laughing.

“There’s only nine years between us, where’s the problem?” Val asked, shrugging.

“Y’all can change each other’s diapers, I guess,” Craig muttered over his coffee mug.

Shana spat out her water laughing, and Riann declared, “Eww, now that’s just nasty.”

“Or kinky, depending on how you look at it,” Solomon pronounced.

Britt scrunched up her face and asked, “What in the Fifty Shades of Grey?”

“How old is the guy?” Solomon asked.

The answers ranged from thirty-eight to seventy-two.

Riann stopped laughing long enough to remark, “There’s no way that guy is in his seventies, sixties, or fifties. He may be in his forties, and that’s pushing it.”

“I don’t know how good he does or doesn’t look, and I don’t care. We need his story,” I stated.

"Wait. None of you have seen this man?” Shana asked.

“No.” We were one voice, one sound like we were practicing for the movie Drumline.

“He doesn’t give interviews, either TV or print. He’s seldom been spotted publicly, and when he has been, he’s on the move so fast that no one has really gotten his picture other than a side or back profile. If you know him, you know him,” I explained.

Shana pointed her finger at me. “What you need to do is find a man and stop being married to this magazine.”

I rolled my eyes and countered, “I’m a business owner, and that means that I sacrifice for the greater good of my company.”

“To what end? Does it mean that you give up having a personal life? Does it mean a future where you grow old and lonely and have no man and no kids?” Shana challenged.

“I’ll pass on the kids part, but I would love to have my itch scratched more frequently than I do now,” I replied with a wink and a tone low enough for only Shana to hear.

Shana replied in a normal tone. “It’s not going to happen as long as you keep chasing millionaire dreams.”

“Girl, please. I have multimillionaire dreams. Only those with no true aspiration like you stop at a million. Once I have my millions, I’ll be chasing my billions. I’ll be a multimillionaire who will be making lots of people’s dreams come true, if I hold firm. Don’t block out my sun with your shade,” I teased.

“You’re going to be a lonely old bat with a houseful of cats, and someone else will be running your magazine,” Shana quipped.

“Ooh! Ooh me!” Britt proclaimed, raising her hand.

“I’ll be rich enough to hire a gardener or a pool boy who will ease my ache. If all else fails, I still have this among many other forms of entertainment at my disposal,” I whispered again, and patted the Vesper vibrator necklace tucked away in my blouse.

Shana looked up behind me and grew still for a couple of seconds. Finally, she spoke. “Or maybe your prayers have been answered, and you don’t need those toys.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Shana bobbed her head behind me. I turned around and saw my ex-husband, Nick Valentine, standing in the doorway behind me.

“Hey, gorgeous.” His voice was filled with happiness and dripped sensuality like a melting popsicle on a hot summer day.

Nick was six feet, one inch, and he had dark, mahogany skin stretched over taut muscles. His thick, curly, dark brown hair had grown long, and his dark eyes sparkled with delight. He was Dominican, handsome, and no-damn good for any woman in the vicinity.

“Nick, what are you doing here?” I asked in surprised exasperation as I walked to where he stood.

“We need to talk.”