Helpless For Her Page 2

  “We have a meeting on Tuesday with them,” Tre says, rambling on. “At your place.”

  “No,” I say, putting my hand up. “I don’t want these suits in my house. Let’s do it at their office.”

  Tre pulls out his phone and starts firing off an email. “No problem, DeMarcus. I’ll set it up.”

  He puts his phone away, takes a deep breath, and turns to me.

  Aw shit. I know that look… I know what’s coming…

  “You know, if you want to get to Jay-Z level status…”

  “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “I’m just saying. Jay-Z was big when he was solo, but when he married the Queen B… he became Hip Hop royalty.”

  “You want me to marry Beyonce?”

  He huffs out a frustrated breath. “Come on, DeMarcus. You know how much free publicity those two get? They can’t change their toothbrush without it being on a magazine cover.”

  “Good for them. That’s not me.”

  “It should be you,” he says with some fire to his voice. “You need a girl in your life.”

  “For publicity…”

  “No, dawg. For you. I’ve known you my whole life. You need that balance, man. It can’t all be about work. Not all the time. Don’t you want to come home at night to a warm bed?”

  I turn away and watch LiQuidate as he shoves his tongue down one of the skanky girl’s throats. He’s got a hand on the other girl’s tit as she takes selfies of the three of them. That’s going to be all over Instagram in about five minutes.

  “Like that?”

  Tre looks increasingly frustrated as he looks over at the hashtag threesome.

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  I stand up—done with this conversation—and head to the door. Suddenly, this room is feeling very small.

  When I step outside, my eyes are drawn to a tall white girl dancing on a stool by the bar. She looks sloppy drunk as she throws her hands in the air and mumbles the words to my song.

  “Shit!” I gasp with a smile on my face as she slips and does a header over the bar right into a bunch of bottles. They crash to the floor as her legs fly up at awkward angles where everyone can see her underwear.

  I’m laughing as I watch the commotion at the bar from up here. The bartender rushes over and starts yelling at her as her friend climbs onto the barstool to grab her.

  The laughter fades from my face as I narrow my eyes on the girl. It’s not funny anymore.

  Suddenly, everything feels intensely serious.

  The tiny hairs on the back of my neck seem to stiffen and I’m tingling all over as I stare at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

  I’ve never seen anything I wanted so badly. No. Not wanted. Needed.

  If I don’t have her, I won’t be able to function. I won’t be able to go on. I know myself, and I know this: if she doesn’t belong to me, then I won’t be able to stop obsessing about her. My mind will be tormented with thoughts of her while my empire crashes down all around me. While I lose everything. While I become a shell of a man because she’s not there to fill me up.

  She’s so tiny that she has to climb onto the stool to grab her friend.

  I start to get hot all over. I’m feeling overheated as my breath stalls.

  She’s perfect.

  Even from all the way up here I can see that.

  Her skin is a smooth brown caramel that radiates a daring innocence from within. The tight white dress wrapped around her body just accentuates the stunning color even more. My fingers start to ache with the need to touch it. My heart is pounding in my chest as I openly stare. It gets hard to breathe.

  Never have I wanted to sink my hands into hair more. She has gorgeous curly hair that has a golden tint on the tips and gets darker the closer it gets to her head. I want to see how it looks when she wakes up in the morning. I want to know how it feels on my lips when I wrap my arms around her and kiss her head.

  My adrenaline spikes as I stand there mesmerized. I want everyone to see her beauty, but at the same time, I want to keep it all to myself. A burning tightness starts to permeate through my body as I watch her, realizing that everyone in this club can see her.

  There are men everywhere. All around her. An edgy, twitchy feeling starts to take over as the rage builds inside me.

  There’s nothing stopping them from looking at her, from touching her, from breathing in her scent. I need to control this situation. I need to stop these men from looking at what’s mine.

  The feeling is overwhelming. It’s like the room is closing in on me.

  I grip the metal bar on the railing and squeeze as I shut my eyes and try to take a deep breath. Not seeing her is just making everything even worse, so I yank my eyes back open and find her once again.

  My muscles flex, my jaw clenches, and adrenaline surges through my veins when I see a guy getting too close. My sweet girl is bending over with her round ass in the air for everyone to see as she helps her friend get up.

  The guy next to her takes a picture of those sweet curves and something primal in me snaps. A growl rips out of me as I start to move.

  “Shit!” I hiss as I turn the corner. The stairs are on the other side of the damn club and it pains me to take my eyes off her.

  “Hey!” someone shouts as I run toward the metal staircase. The music is pounding in my ears, and I don’t hear the crowd, but I see them pointing and taking pictures as they rush toward me.

  No… I want to cry. I want to break something. This can’t be happening.

  Panic starts to fill me as a swarm of people come rushing up the steps, blocking my way.

  “Move!” I shout as I push a guy to the side, but there are three more to take his place.

  It feels like a weight is pressing on my tight chest as I desperately try to find her. I see her tall friend’s head and she’s running toward the door. I can’t… She’s probably with her, but she’s too damn short to see.

  They break from the crowd, which is headed my way, blocking my way to her.

  Don’t these people understand that my world is shattering right now? That I won’t be able to survive if I don’t have her?

  Her friend gets to the exit and I see a glimpse of my girl again. That white dress. Those lips… fuuucccck. I have to get to her.

  Without thinking, I grab onto the railing and leap over. People scream as I fall and land hard with a painful grunt.

  I start rushing toward the exit, but I fucked up my ankle on that landing and again, there are people swarming me and blocking my way.

  A familiar face jerks up in front of me and I start to see red. It’s the guy who took a picture of my girl’s ass and now he’s sticking his phone in my face.

  I grab it and snap it in half as he recoils in fear. He’s a skinny punk. I’m more than double his size, but I don’t care. He has to pay for what he did with my girl.

  I crack him in the jaw as hard as I can and he falls into the crowd as I keep moving.

  I’m limping on my busted ankle, but I keep going. I’ll never stop trying to get to her. Never.

  Half the club spills out onto the busy street with me. They’re still taking pictures, grabbing me, trying to get my attention.

  I’m only focused on trying to find her. The panic starts to build within me when I look down one end of the street then the other. She’s nowhere to be seen.

  She’s gone…

  I hold my churning stomach. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

  I hate that I don’t know where she is. That I don’t have her.

  The overwhelming emotions grow to a boiling point and I throw my head back and let out a primal roar.

  It does nothing to release the mounting tension.

  Nothing can do that…

  …except for her.

  Chapter Three

  Ayana

  “Ayana!” Cathy shouts as I walk by her office.

  My heart starts racing and I get all giddy inside. Today is the day that DeM
arcus Elba is coming in for his meet and greet. I’ve been hoping—scratch that, praying—that Cathy is going to invite me in to participate. I don’t even care about participating. I just want to be in the room. Sitting in the back, hiding behind a plant, I don’t care. I’d even settle for joining the window washers on the gurney outside just to get a look at his gorgeous face.

  I run my trembling fingers along my gray pencil skirt as I peek into the CEO’s office with a smile plastered on my face. “Yes, Mrs. Winters?”

  She’s tapping away at her laptop and doesn’t look up. “Did you skip your morning workout this morning?”

  “Um… no…”

  “Are those new shoes you’re trying to break in?”

  “No,” I lie. Of course they’re new. This whole outfit is new. I spent over three hundred dollars on a new gray pencil skirt with the jacket to match, a new blouse, Marc Fisher pumps, and I’m even wearing new underwear. I’m a little excited to see my favorite artist.

  “Are you training for a marathon?” she asks.

  “Mrs. Winters?” I ask, totally confused now.

  She sighs as she closes her laptop, folds her hands on her desk, and looks at me with a hard stare. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’ve walked by my office about thirty-six times now.”

  “Oh,” I say with a nervous laugh. “I guess I’m just excited.”

  “For No-Bility to come into the office?”

  “Yeah.” I bite my bottom lip, trying to hide my smile, but I can’t. It’s refusing to go away.

  “You’re a fan?” she asks.

  I grin. “You could say that.”

  She looks me over and nods in approval. “You look beautiful. New outfit?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Tell me the truth. Did you buy it because DeMarcus is coming to the office today?”

  I gulp. “Guilty.”

  Her hard stare melts away and she laughs. “If I wasn’t in my fifties, I would have done the same. Probably would have shown a little more cleavage though. Come in and close the door.”

  Eeeeeeh! I’m so giddy that I can’t fight back the giggles that keep bubbling out of me. I’m always trying to act professionally in the office, especially around a woman I respect like Mrs. Winters, but come on… this is DeMarcus freaking Elba! He’s coming here!

  “This is going to be a big account,” she says as I sit down in front of her desk with my back straight. “Huge. Every new up and coming talent is going to be frothing at the mouth to sign onto his record label. This could be big for our company.”

  I’m nodding along, trying to switch out of fan mode and into business mode.

  “It could be huge for you too.”

  Every cell in my body freezes to a halt.

  She grins, taking her time in torturing me. “I want you to be my right-hand woman on this account.”

  My mouth drops, but nothing comes out.

  I’ll be working with… DeMarcus… Elba…?

  Oh my God, I want to call Madison so freaking badly right now.

  “I’ll take your stunned silence as a yes.”

  “But… what about Granny Anne’s?”

  Granny Anne’s is the account I’ve been working on for the past couple of months. They sold themselves as a small little old lady making natural beauty products from her kitchen and came to us when it turned out that they were a rundown factory outside of Beijing. I’ve been running the PR disaster for them and helping them to regain their client’s trust by suggesting they renovate their factory and pay their employees living wages. So far, they’ve listened.

  “I’m going to give that one to Jason,” she says. “You did a great job with them.”

  “Thank you,” I say as I feel my cheeks start to get hot.

  “Now it’s time to move you up to the big leagues. It’s the World Series and your coach is calling you in. Are you going to accept?”

  “Yes!” I knock over her mug full of pens as I leap on her desk with my hand extended.

  She laughs as she shakes it.

  “Good, now stop walking by my office and get ready. No-Bility will be here in an hour.”

  I’ve been plastered against the window like a suction cup for the past hour. I’m looking down the skyscraper at the street below, trying to get a glimpse of DeMarcus. I know I’ll be sitting in front of him soon (I still can’t freaking believe that!), but I still need to see him as early and as often as possible.

  Cathy thinks I’m preparing for the meeting, but I’ve been preparing for this my entire life. I know everything about him. I’ve known him since he had less than a hundred Instagram followers (I was number #67!) and now he has over seventy million.

  I love him. Not just his music, but him.

  I’ve watched every interview he’s done over a dozen times each. I feel like I know him personally, and it’s embarrassing, but I’ve always felt like we belong together. Girls usually have that feeling with their celebrity crushes, only they tend to grow out of them around fourteen years of age, but me… well, I’ve never outgrown my love for him.

  “Come on, girl,” I whisper to myself. “Be professional.”

  I straighten myself up and am about to walk away when I see a huge black souped-up Range Rover that I know just has to have him in it. I can feel it.

  My hands and forehead are immediately plastered back on the glass (the window cleaners are going to hate me) and I’m looking down as my heart does flip after flip.

  The door opens and a low moan falls from my mouth when I see him get out. It’s actually him! DeMarcus Elba. The love of my life, even if he doesn’t know I exist.

  He’s looking ravishing as usual with a spotless pair of Timberlands, baggy jeans, and a white shirt that’s so tight around his big hard biceps that I can’t look away. He’s all sexy swagger as he walks to the door and out of my view.

  “No!” I gasp as he disappears below my feet. I slam my palm on the window in frustration as my heart races. It’s okay, I tell myself. He’ll be up here soon.

  With a deep breath, I turn around and shake my hands out.

  “Can you get out of my office now?” Walter asks as he looks at me funny.

  “Yes,” I say in a shaky voice. “I was just doing… market research… for a… very important… account.”

  He’s staring at me like I’m from another planet so I nod my head and walk out.

  This whole office can think I’m crazy, but I don’t care.

  Because the king of Hip Hop is on his way up!

  To meet me!

  Chapter Four

  DeMarcus

  “What is with you?” Tre asks as I snap at him for the tenth time this morning. Everything is getting to me. I can’t help it.

  “Just…” I practically growl. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and try to center myself.

  It’s no use.

  Everything is spinning wildly out of control. My mind. My goals. My life. Everything is broken.

  “Is it that girl?” Tre asks carefully as he watches me grip the table so hard that my dark knuckles turn white.

  “My girl.”

  “What?”

  “Not that girl. My girl. She belongs to me.”

  “You don’t even know her name.”

  His words are a dagger in my heart. They hurt. Real actual physical pain.

  How can I not know her name? How can she be out there in the world where I can’t find her?

  I’ve searched through Facebook profiles for the past three days trying to find her, but I came up short. I don’t have a name. I don’t have anything but regret and pain.

  I’m full-blown obsessed with her and I don’t know how to handle all of these possessive feelings I have.

  How do you manage possessive feelings when the thing you need to own is out of your reach? How do you handle protective feelings for someone when they’re not in your life to protect?

  I’m going to spend a lifetime trying to figure those questions out.

&nbs
p; “Do you want me to reschedule?” Tre asks as he looks around the empty conference room.

  “No,” I grunt. We’re already here and it’s not like these intense emotions are just going to go away anytime soon. I’ll probably be feeling as twitchy on my deathbed as I feel right now. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  The door swings open and an older white woman with blonde hair and sharp blue eyes walks in. “Mr. Elba,” she says with her hand extended. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  I stand up and shake her hand with a nod.

  The door is slowly swinging closed, but then a tiny brown hand catches it and my heart lodges in my throat when I see her walk in.

  She has a shy smile on her face as I stare at her, stunned.

  Her bright brown eyes flit over to mine and then drop to the floor as her caramel cheeks get a little darker. I never take my eyes off her as she walks around the large table and stands next to her boss.

  “DeMarcus,” Tre whispers as he nudges me with his elbow. “Pick your damn jaw up off the table.”

  I catch myself and shake my mind back into the present.

  She holds out her tiny hand across the table and I swallow hard as I stare at it. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Elba,” she says in a voice so sweet that it sends shivers racing down my spine. “My name is Ayana Lockett.”

  “Ayana,” I whisper as I take her hand in mine. My hand is so big compared to hers that I practically swallow it up.

  Cathy starts talking again, something about welcoming us to MREX, but I can’t hear the words. They’re all rumbly and muted like I’m underwater.

  I can’t focus on anything but her soft hand in mine and the way she’s smiling shyly. It makes my heart hurt to watch.

  Tre’s hard elbow to my ribs jerks me back to reality.

  She gently tugs her hand, trying to break free, but I’m not ready to let go. Not now, not ever.

  “DeMarcus,” Tre whispers. “Let the girl’s hand go.”

  I don’t care if this is awkward or inappropriate. She’s mine and I want to touch her.

  “Great,” Cathy says as she shoots a quick nervous glance at our hands. “Now, that the formalities are done, we can get to work.”