Never Again Once More by Mary B. Morrison Page B

dismissed. Pick out your wedding dress. And as far as Darius’s father is concerned, he must have been a fool to let you go.”
    Jada sharply responded, “Foolish, maybe. But he’s nobody’s fool.” Jada looked at the waitress. “Check, please.”

    After one year of dating—only one month after his divorce was final—Lawrence formally proposed. Jada accepted, but wasn’t ready to set a date. Since well-established men remarried much faster than women of the same caliber, she wasn’t surprised Lawrence was serious. His offer was her opportunity to forget her past. Jada never wanted to feel that pain—the way Wellington had hurt her—ever again. A walking zombie, there had been a time she couldn’t eat, sleep, or think. She’d definitely be happy with Lawrence. How long? That was a question she simply could not answer.

Chapter 9
    F ebruary 14. Relieved Mama had agreed to fly to Los Angeles and baby-sit Darius, Jada moisturized her skin with shea butter. Robert refused to travel on anything that left the ground, so he had stayed in Oakland. Exposing her legs and covering her breasts, Jada eased into her black, brown, and tan leopard dress that stopped midway between her hips and knees. No stockings. Form fitting. Long sleeves. A dab of perfume caressed her ankles, wrists, cleavage, and behind each ear. The three-way mirror cast a gorgeous reflection from every angle.
    When her phone rang at five-thirty that evening, Jada hurried, taking the shortcut, crawling across her bed to answer before Mama or Darius could. “Hello.”
    “Hi, ba. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Wellington’s sensuous tone tingled her nerve endings.
    Chill bumps covered her butter-smooth skin quicker than microwave popcorn bursting through the hull. “Thanks. Same to you.” Sitting on the edge of her bed, Jada crossed her legs. The eight-by-ten family portrait she’d taken with Wellington and Darius was removed from her dresser and stored somewhere in the garage along with her other photos with and of Wellington. One eleven-by-fourteen of Darius, Wellington, Mama, Robert, and Jada remained in the family room.
    “You received my delivery?” Wellington asked.
    Three bunches of red roses each accompanied by a single yellow rose was overkill. One arrangement would have sent the same message, reminding her of the night they fell in love. “Yes, and thank you.” After Jada started dating Lawrence, she’d stopped sending Wellington gifts: birthday, Valentine’s, and Christmas. The only day she acknowledged was the one she had every reason not to: Fathers’ Day.
    “Did you receive my invitation?” Jada asked, fumbling through her jewelry box for a pair of earrings that wouldn’t make her a hoochie look-alike. Lawrence had scratched Wellington’s name off the guest list, saying he didn’t want any man she’d slept with at his wedding. It wasn’t just his day, so Jada had personally mailed Wellington’s invitation. If Wellington showed up, she’d blame the wedding coordinator.
    “Yes.” Wellington was so quiet, Jada pressed the down arrow lowering the volume on her television. Judge Mablean was trying to convince Kendra not to divorce Kevin because he was good man.
    Jada couldn’t go wrong with diamonds, so she braced the phone between her shoulder and ear, inserting the three-carat stud. What she really wanted were the huge solitaires Oprah was wearing in her ears and around her neck. “So, are you coming to my wedding?”
    Wellington sighed. “Maybe. Not sure I can handle seeing you marry someone else.”
    So now he had a problem. There hadn’t been a problem when he’d introduced Simone to her. Or when Simone had come to her house in L.A. with him to pick up Darius. Jada had started to make Simone wait outside, but bitterness wasn’t characteristic of a genuine diva. “You can bring Simone.” Bring her ass so she could see Lawrence’s fine ass. Would Kendra go on and give poor Kevin a chance? He seemed like one of the few