A New Year's Surprise Read online

  “It’s me, Vanya, Angie from next door. I finally got a chance to bring over your present.”

  “Oh!” The woman sounded delighted. “Give me second!”

  Kat heard shuffling and the distinct sound of a male voice, her husband’s. Anger reared inside her body. Was the whore putting on her clothes? Making herself presentable to answer the door?

  The door pulled in and to Kat’s surprise, Damien stepped forward with his jacket and the top buttons of his shirt undone. “Vanya’s busy. I’ll give it to her...”

  He trailed off as he looked down to find Angie’s hands empty of any present. Instantly, his eyes narrowed but before he could turn his head, Kat flew into action. Her hand caught him hard across the cheek and as he stood there in a shocked stupor, she forced past him into the apartment. Without looking, she knew that Zaire and Princess were at her back.

  As she ran into the living room, Kat caught sight of a long haired, rail thin blond walking around in a male shirt that dwarfed her. Her husband’s shirt? Had Damien brought clothes here? When they’d graduated college, he’d always kept a duffel bag of spare shirts over at her apartment. Was he keeping two different households: one with his wife and child and the other with his whore?

  The woman’s long, slim legs were bare and Kat was certain that under that shirt, she was naked. Frozen stiff at the sight, at everything it confirmed, Kat found it difficult to breathe. Utterly oblivious to what was going on, the blond entered the open kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, lifted the glass to her lips, and began to drink. It looked like a commercial for Poland Spring—maybe Evian.

  Angie was right. Vanya was certainly beautiful. She was the type of woman Damien had dated before Kat. Blond, busty due to what had to be either great genes or expensive implants, thin, white. Before they’d gotten serious, when they’d just been friends and occasional study partners, Kat had watched Damien run through women that looked just like this replica of Barbie. Her paralysis over, Kat’s anger forced her into action. With a wounded cry, she was running for the stranger, glad for her tracksuit and sneakers, when strong arms caught her about the waist, lifting her clean off of the ground. Although they hadn’t had even this kind of intimacy in months, Kat recognized the press of the hard body instantly.

  “Put me down, you son-of-a-bitch!” She began to struggle in earnest, kicking, punching, and head-butting. She’d had lessons for many things, singing, dancing, and piano included, but fighting wasn’t one of them. According to her mother, ladies handled their issues with their words, not their fists. But with Zaire as a friend, Kat had been in her share of girl scuffles and she’d learned.

  “Kat, calm down!” His arms tightened around her body, cutting off her air supply and simultaneously capturing her arms.

  Zaire took her place instantly, rushing the blond, who looked more like a doe-in-headlights than any Barbie now as Damien yelled at her to stop. “Z!”

  Vanya jumped over the kitchen counter and high-tailed it for the back of the apartment, screaming all the way. Zaire followed her easily, vaulting over the counter behind the agile blond. Vanya managed to clear a door before Zaire and quickly locked herself in a room. As Zaire pounded on the door and Damien yelled at her to cut it out, Kat went still, shocked to her very core, and finally just began to push at Damien’s arms.

  She’d turned into one of those women. The ones who attacked the other woman and not the asshole who’d decided to cheat. When Damien refused to release her, Kat dragged her short, but able nails down his arm.

  “SHIT!”

  Four angry welts instantly stood out against skin that had gone pale for the winter, but he didn’t release her.

  “Let me go, Damien!” she hissed in anger. She was going to go home, pack a bag, and head to her parents’ house. Her child was already there. Tomorrow, after she’d had a good night’s sleep, she’d decide where to go from there. One thing that was quite certain in her mind was the fact that her marriage was over. Before, she was uncertain if she’d be able to leave him, but in this moment, with her heart broken and her nerves shattered, she could not stay with this man.

  “Why?” Damien hissed back into her ear. “So you can go bang on the door like Z’s doing right now! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” Her voice rose. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?”

  She began to struggle in earnest now. Damien released her but only so that he could pull her right back into his arms, this time with her facing him.

  “I hate you!” She tried to punch him and quickly found her arms restrained behind her back. “How could you do this to me? To us? To our family! It’s the Christmas season for God sakes!”

  Kat felt like crying. Tis the season to be happy, dammit! Days ago, she, Damien, and Sophia had celebrated the baby’s first Christmas and their first Christmas as parents. She’d felt close to her husband on that day, had felt as if her marriage had a serious chance of survival. Damien had given her an affectionate, but chaste kiss but she’d been hopeful. Even knowing what Zaire had suspected, she’d thought that once the baby was down for the night, they could rekindle their love. Kat had been willing to pretend, to act as if Zaire had said nothing, if on that night, with Christmas carols playing in the background and the lights dimmed to a most romantic setting, Damien hadn’t suddenly needed to leave. He’d apologized and said it was urgent, that he was needed briefly at work. Her husband had returned home around midnight and Kat had been so hurt that he’d left and potentially gone to his mistress, she’d feigned sleep. Had he been here? Had he left his family to come to his whore?

  “Kat, what are you talking about?” Damien looked as upset as she was. “I haven’t done anything—.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Damien! I caught you! It couldn’t be more obvious if I’d walked in on you two fucking!”

  Damien drew back and blinked. Kat understood why. She wasn’t one to curse so when she did it was more profound. At the moment, she had a few curses building inside of her and she was determined to get them all out.

  “You think I’m cheating on you?”

  “No, I think you’re here at some woman’s house, afterhours on a weekday, learning to speak Russian!” She tried to struggle out of his arms again. “GET OFF ME!”

  She stepped on his toes, tried to knee him in the groin, and eventually, he released her. Kat stepped back, could see that he was coming after her, and prepared to hit him again. Before she could, another fist caught him directly in the jaw and Damien pitched to the side, barely catching his balance on a rectangular sofa.

  Kat turned to see Princess stepping forward, shaking her hand out as she advanced on Damien. “I may not act like it but I was born a man, bitch, and that means I can punch like one! I can’t believe your lying, cheating ass would hurt my friend like this! What the fuck is wrong with you, Damien?”

  Damien wiped the blood from his split lip and stood, glaring from Princess to Kat.

  He took a threatening step toward Princess but Kat jumped in front of her friend.

  “You want to hit Princess?” she asked incredulously. Born a man or not, Princess was a female. Damien, more than anyone else, had always seemed to respect that. “Hit me, then, Damien! Show me just how little I know about my own husband!”

  As if catching himself, Damien shook his head, leveling his eyes with hers. “Kat, this isn’t what you think. I’m not cheating on you. I wouldn’t do that to us!”

  She didn’t believe him. How could she when the evidence was hiding in a room in this apartment?

  “So what is it? Why are you here with her? Why is she wearing your shirt? Why have you been coming here since the middle of November? Damien, just tell me the truth. You owe me that!”

  Chapter 3

  If there was one thing Damien Rochester hated, it was seeing his wife cry. But honestly, he couldn’t for the life of him understand what the hell was going on. His wife was accusing him of cheating, her crazy, borderline psychot
ic friend was pummeling on Vanya’s door as if she intended to break it down and break the woman inside, and Princess, his staunch defender, had just punched him in the face. Despite his delicate looks, Princess had a mean right hook. His jaw was still sore, would probably be sore for a while.

  “Baby...”

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me!” Kat snapped, furiously wiping at her streaked face. “How could you do this to me?”

  “I’m not cheating on you.” It was the truth. He wasn’t. There might have been a time in high school and college when he couldn’t control his dick but at twenty-eight, he was fully capable. Hell, he was a happily married man with a beautiful daughter who was as much his world as her mother. “Why would you think that?”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Zaire demanded from in front of the door. She’d stopped her ridiculous pounding. “Tell your whore to open the door and take her ass-whooping like a grown woman!”

  The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on Damien, but he didn’t have time to point it out. He could almost see his marriage dissolving before his eyes if he didn’t clear this up soon. “Leave her alone, Z!”

  “If I were you, I’d focus more on my wife than some runaway whore!” Zaire shot back at him angrily.

  “Kat, baby, I am not cheating on you. I know this probably looks bad, but it isn’t.” As he thought about how this entire scenario must look to Kat, particularly with Zaire pushing something that wasn’t, he winced. “There is nothing going on between Vanya and I.”

  “Why’s the bitch in your shirt then?” Princess demanded from behind Kat.

  “That’s not my shirt, Kat.” Damien addressed all answers to his wife. She was the one who needed to believe him and he could see nothing but doubt and distrust in her gaze.

  Zaire laughed from in front of Vanya’s door. “You seriously expect us to believe this diseased skank—” Zaire smacked the door for emphasis. “—is walking around here in some other man’s shirt? Where is he then?”

  “Kat,” Damien stressed the word and took a step forward with his arms raised, closing the distance between them. “I love you. I wouldn’t do this to us, to Sophia. I love our family too much to do something this stupid. You know this. You know me.”

  She only shook her head, her eyes seeking the truth in his. “I don’t know anything anymore, Damien! Just tell me the truth. Why are you here? With her?”

  “She’s working for me, Kat.” Pausing, Damien wondered how much he should reveal and settled for the bare minimum. He would reveal it as needed because, ultimately, what he was doing was still a surprise. “That’s it. She’s working on a special project for me.”

  “Since when is being a ho a special project?” Zaire demanded angrily. “Just because you pay for her apartment and give her some money each time you get all up in that diseased cooch, doesn’t means she’s a legit ‘employee.’ You can’t write off hos on your taxes!”

  Kat flinched and Damien growled. “Shut the hell up, Z! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Zaire was Kat’s best friend but sometimes, particularly times like these, Damien wanted to fireman lift the woman and toss her somewhere far from his wife. Outspoken to a tee, Zaire most times didn’t realize the damage her mouth caused.

  “I know men and I know someone up in this apartment is definitely fucking this skank. If it ain’t you, then it’s someone else, right? So where he at? Come on Mr. Smart-Ass-VP, where’s this Mr. Invisible at?”

  “Mr. Invisible has a name, one you’re quite familiar with, and he’s standing right here.” Damien whipped his head to the voice and almost said the Holy Rosary when he found Gavin Locke, his friend and business partner, standing there, still dressed in his beige long coat and dark gloves, and holding his briefcase in one hand. “Zaire, can’t say it’s a pleasure, so I will instead ask: what the hell are you doing here?”

  ***

  Kat was embarrassed, but still angry. The only difference was that this time, her anger was more directed at herself, and possibly Zaire. Damien was not cheating on her. At least, not with Vanya. Vanya was Gavin’s woman, which did little to calm a still agitated Zaire. The last Kat had heard, Gavin had been in London, but since the incident between him and Zaire, Kat had made it a point to show a lack of interest in all conversation surrounding Gavin Locke. As such, Damien hardly mentioned him to her. It was possible for the man to be living next door and Kat not know.

  “So now that that’s settled, Zaire can move away from Vanya’s bedroom door,” Gavin drawled, intense green eyes locked on Zaire as if daring her to refuse. Without a word, Zaire headed over to Kat and Princess. Gavin placed his briefcase on one of the tables and headed to the door behind which Vanya had disappeared. He knocked softly and spoke in a low voice. The door opened enough to let him in. It closed shortly after.

  Cool hands caught her face and she was forced to look at Damien. Her husband looked angry, frustrated, and desperate all in one. His pale blues held her gaze, forcing her to see the truth her heart already knew.

  “I am not cheating on you. I’ve never cheated on you, Kat. As I said, Vanya is working on a special project for me.”

  “What special project?” Zaire quipped. “Now that Gavin’s involved, it could be all sorts of BS going on here. How do we know y’all haven’t been tag-teaming the broad?”

  “Z, enough!” Damien’s voice was low and cool, a tell tale sign of the storm to come. Damien always seemed to get calmer the angrier he got, and then, right when he seemed at his calmest, there was usually an explosion. Most people didn’t see it, but Kat had been around him for so long that she could easily recognize it for what it was.

  “I’m taking my wife home,” he continued, keeping his eyes on her. “We need to talk. Privately.”

  “Yes,” Princess agreed, already grabbing Zaire and pulling her towards the door. “You take your wife home and have a private conversation about this mix-up. Merry Christma-Hanna-Kwanzika, Happy New Year, and sorry for cold-clocking you but I really thought you were pulling a bitch move and doing my girl dirty.”

  Damien looked over Kat’s shoulder and nodded once, and Kat heard the door snap shut.

  ***

  “Have I ever given you a reason to think I’d want another woman?” Damien asked once they were alone.

  With her deep, cherry-wood, brown eyes and full, bow-arched lips, Catherine Rochester was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on, and he’d thought that before they’d started dating. She’d always carried her weight in full breasts, a round and curvy ass, and athletic thighs she worked out from jogging every morning. Even with the added weight of their child, she was stunning. Her skin looked edible. It was a creamy, toffee color that didn’t need makeup to sparkle, and when she smiled, Damien found himself unable to resist the pull to share her humor.

  Kat had always been beautiful, but she’d never seemed to understand the power of her allure. It had been just short of a miracle for Damien to convince Kat to go on a date with him. For almost three years, she’d seen him as the ‘love-em-and-leave-em kind,’ so when he’d finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, she’d thought he was joking. Somehow, through Gavin’s help and Zaire’s persuasion, Kat had agreed.

  After that first date at Rockefeller Center’s ice-skating rink, with him falling all over the ice much to Kat’s amusement, Damien had been addicted. Gavin and the boys had called him whipped, but it hadn’t been the type of whipped they’d imagined. Kat hadn’t given into his charms until their third month together, and after that first time, his first time making love to a woman and not just having sex to get off, and her first time, he’d known their relationship was different. She was the first woman he’d ever loved, only at the time, he hadn’t known it. It had taken years to see his obsession for what it was, and when he had, Damien had decided, regardless of the bitch-fits that both of their families were sure to throw, this woman would be his wife and mother to the next generation of Rochesters.

  Licking
her lips, Kat replied nonchalantly, “We haven’t had sex in six months, Damien. We’re growing apart. I can feel it. I’m not as naïve as you think.”

  “What does that mean?” His voice was still low as he tried to portray calm. He didn’t think his wife was naïve.

  “It means I know you and I know men...” His eyes narrowed, and his body grew cold. She knew men? He was the only man Kat should know.

  “What do you know about men?”

  As if sensing his turbulent mood, she wife looked away and began to fidget before bravely returning her eyes to his. “You’re not sleeping with me, Damien. It’s been six months and you haven’t even tried—. We barely touch even when we sleep. You’re obviously doing something.”

  “Yes, obviously.” Damien nodded when she stared at him wide-eyed. “I’ve been using my hand, like men who love their wives do while waiting for them to recover after having a baby.”

  Kat scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Really? That’s all you’ve been doing? Using your hand?”

  “Yes, what have you been doing?” he deadpanned, catching her off guard. “Tell me, wife. I just told you my secret.” He paused and gave her a chilling smile. “I know women and you’ve obviously been doing something.”

  “You’re mocking me.” She tried to pull away. His hands left her face and wrapped around her back, holding her secure.

  “Tell me, Kat. I’m your husband after all. We’re supposed to share everything. What have you been doing?”

  That little statement about her knowing men had put a thought into his head he seriously disliked. Had Kat, on the misguided notion that he’d been cheating, taken revenge? He’d heard many seriously fucked up stories from both Gavin and his unmarried friends about their women and their attempts to ‘get back’ at them. He couldn’t picture his Kat finding a random guy to fuck just to get back at him, but then again, he’d had no idea Kat thought he was cheating. He’d assumed they were taking it slowly after Sophia’s birth. She’d been skittish around him since the birth, so in an effort to be understanding, he’d kept away.