Kept Secrets (Secret, Love & Betrayal Novel Book 2) Read online

  Since he didn’t know where Taylor resided, he called in a favor to one of his clients, who owned a private investigation firm. She always insisted that she meet him at his place. Now he knew why; her hubby was lurking around her place.

  He was told that a reporter had followed Taylor out to her parents’ home and was given the address to Mayor’s Briggs’ vacation home. Driving the twenty-eight minutes to the western suburb, he pulled up to the wrought iron double gates. He pushed the button a few times, and after a couple of seconds the big, burly bodyguard, Frank, came strolling down the driveway.

  Kalon gave him a few choice words, after Frank threatened to call the police and have him thrown off the property. Putting his Escalade in reverse, he sped off the property.

  The banging intensified and Kalon whipped the covers off, dropping them onto the floor. He snatched the first thing he could find and slipped the boxers and T-shirt over his nude body. A pile of clothes sat in front of his bedroom door, so he walked on top of them. His bare feet slapped across the wooden floor as he made his way to the front door.

  Bang! Bang!

  “Hold on,” Kalon shouted.

  He yanked open the door to find his best friend, Ephraim, scowling at him.

  Kalon barked, “What?” The muscles in his jawline flexed as he tried to contain what was left of his anger. Not just with Ephraim interrupting his sleep—as if he was really getting any—but mostly at not being able to connect with Taylor.

  Ephraim’s stepped further into the loft and glanced around. “Man, your house is a mess.”

  Kalon surveyed the area. Dirty dishes lined the sink, while Frosted Flakes were perched right alongside open boxes of Fruit Loops and Cheerios. Paper, pillows, and clothes were thrown about the room as if he had a sleepover for a group of teens.

  Kalon waved off Ephraim’s remark and flopped down on his sofa. Pulling a white throw off the back, he wrapped it around his muscular shoulders.

  Ephraim went around the room picking up a few items here and there, until finally there was more hardwood showing than actual mess. He joined Kalon on the sofa and swept a gaze over his friend.

  “What’s going on with you, man? You haven’t been in the office and you don’t seem sick to me, so what’s really going on?”

  Kalon rested his head on the back of the couch and took a long, slow breath.

  “Nothing,” he simply replied, even though he actually meant everything.

  Ephraim gave Kalon a stern gaze. “How are you doing?”

  Kalon stared straight ahead, “I’m good,” he answered, nodding as though he believed the lie himself. “Never been better.”

  “That doesn’t sound quite like it’s the truth,” Ephraim said, narrowing his dark brown eyed gaze at Kalon.

  “It’s all I’ve got right now.”

  Kalon and Ephraim had been best friends since they were kids growing up in Orland Park. Kalon was a skinny, nerdy boy; he was quiet and kids would pick on him. Ephraim was a big boy for his age; he was already growing facial hair in the sixth grade. They attended the same boarding school and were among the five percent of Blacks at the school. They were roommates and made a pact, since they were in the dreadful place together, that no matter what, they would remain good friends.

  When Kalon approached Ephraim a few years back on starting Angel Kids, a non-for-profit company that helps kids across the world buy reading materials, he asked him to be his copartner.

  Ephraim ran the logistic parts of the company, making sure that reading materials were shipped to the homes of kids in need. He also managed the cash flow of donations and magazine companies’ contributions.

  Since Kalon had no siblings and his mother—Faith Flare, a famous fashion designer—lived in New York, and his father, Ray Knight, owned his own construction company in Chicago and lived with his wife of fifteen years, Kalon reverted into being a loner and put all of his energy into his company, Angel Kids.

  Ephraim glared at Kalon sideways, and Kalon assumed he was looking at him this way to figure out what was wrong.

  “Does this have anything to do with that woman you were seeing?” Ephraim asked. Kalon had confessed to Ephraim over a one-on-one basketball game that he was sexually involved with someone.

  “Why do you assume my mood is over a woman? You’ve never saw me moan over any woman. I’m the most eligible bachelor in Chicago, according to the Chicago Sun Times newspaper.”

  Kalon distantly remembered the paper being released over a year ago, selecting him to be one of the single, handsome, and richest entrepreneurs in the Midwest. He was chosen at number two out of ten.

  Ephraim chuckled. “Well, I wasn’t sure if your little sexual partner had become more than just—” Kalon sliced his hand in the air to protest.

  “Don’t even say it, E. I’m not hung up on no chick.” Kalon tried to make his facial expression match his tone.

  Ephraim pushed up from the couch and went to crack the patio door. “I just wanted to make sure you wasn’t wailing over a broken heart. I’ve seen these type of things go down, and most men who have been scorned have that look on their face.” He nodded toward Kalon while fanning his hand in front of his nose.

  “Man, there’s a foul odor in here,” Ephraim said, crinkling up his nose. “Probably from all this food you got left out on your counter top.”

  “Whatever, E. There’s the door if you want to leave.”

  Ephraim glared at Kalon for a long time before he said, “I thought you told me you weren’t sure if this woman applied to your one-time dip rule and you were trying to figure some things out. What’s up with that?”

  It seemed that Ephraim wasn’t letting up until he got some answers. Kalon was off the sofa in a flash, saying, “I need a drink first.”

  ***

  Kalon sat next to Ephraim on his sofa and hung his head low in his lap. Taking another sip of his beer, he ran his hand down the center of his Mohawk and twirled his fingers through the thick waves.

  Ephraim picked up his beer from the coaster and took a swig. Trudging over to the window, he looked out at the lake. With his back to Kalon, he asked, “Okay, talk to me Kalon. What’s going on with you?”

  Kalon let out a long breath, causing Ephraim to turn away from the window and face his friend.

  “Yes, it is the woman I told you about. I have …” He tried to swallow, but his mouth was suddenly dry. “I have fallen in love.”

  Ephraim’s eyes became the size of saucers as he rubbed the back of his neck. Kalon assumed that his words had caught his friend off guard by the way Ephraim kept shuffling his feet from side to side, as if he was trying to regain his composure. Ephraim opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. He reopened his mouth again, and Kalon muttered, “Here we go.”

  “Tell me what happened?” Kalon caught his friend up with recent developments. How he met Taylor at the magazine conference, their sexual escapades, and then Patricia stalking him, to her sending him information about Taylor being married and the argument at his home that led up to Taylor car accident. He ended with the threats from the mayor and his failed attempts at getting to see her.

  Ephraim’s jaw dropped. “You’re in love with a married woman?” He shook his head back forth. “Wait a minute; you’re dating the mayor’s daughter?”

  “You can gloat now,” Kalon said dryly, and waiting for Ephraim’s usual sarcasm to come out.

  Ephraim met Kalon’s gaze. “Nothing’s funny when your best friend is hurting. I never thought you had it in you, to be honest.”

  Kalon shrugged. “That makes two of us.”

  Ephraim thought about that for a few moments, and then his lips spread into a sly smile. “Man, you need to come out with me and the frat brothers tonight.”

  However, Kalon was already shaking his head before Ephraim could finish.

  “You need to get out the house and get some fresh air.” Ephraim’s smile widened. “Maybe it’ll help you figure out how to see her again ...”

&n
bsp; When Kalon just glared at him, he tried again. “Agh! C’mon, man! You’re not going to go out with me and the brothers tonight?”

  After still getting no response from Kalon, Ephraim said, “I know you just experienced your first heart break.”

  Kalon glared at his friend, who held up a hand to hold off anything Kalon could say. “Don’t let this get you down. The best cure to get over a woman is to surround yourself with more women.”

  Kalon still didn’t speak.

  “Let’s make a deal,” Ephraim said, eyeing the chicken box and bones in the chairs near the dining area, and another mountain of clothes piled up in the hallway. “I’ll clean up this mess, if you come out with me tonight and have fun.”

  Kalon stood and Ephraim quickly placed his hands over his eyes.

  “Ugh, man! Go put on some clothes.”

  Frowning, Kalon flipped him the finger. “This is my house, you can leave.” Then he looked over his shoulder. “But not before you do the dishes.”

  Ephraim’s laughter followed him all the way to the bedroom.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kalon arrived at the club a quarter past midnight. The old brick building was once a car factory that had been transformed into an upscale Polish nightclub. The three level nightclub had flashing white, purple, and blue lights, which beamed on the partygoers swaying on the checkered linoleum floor. Couples lined the front of the circular bar on the main level. Each floor played a different theme of music; the main level was R&B, the top level was country, and the basement level played techno.

  Kalon hadn’t seen his fraternity brothers in a year. They agreed to get together once a year to catch up on each other’s lives. Cal lived in Los Angeles, with his wife and two kids. Matt was the furthest from the bunch living in London. He landed a job right after college at a computer software company. And the man, who gave Kalon some stiff competition with the women in college, was pretty boy Josh. Six-feet tall and blue-eyed with a caramel-colored complexion were a dangerous combination. He was still single living in Florida … at least for now. He was a traveler and floated around the world, drinking in life and beautiful women. Kalon kind of envied Josh for that alone.

  Excitement flowed through him, and he walked right past a table of women who let out some appreciative whistles and a little cat purring to get his attention. He had shaved, dressed in simple black casual slacks and a long-sleeved, button-down shirt to match, and finished it off with a pair of black Kenneth Cole loafers.

  Back in his womanizer days, he would have pulled up a chair to that table of women and taken one home, while having the numbers from the other three in his pocket for a later date. Tonight, all he wanted to do was have a few drinks and laughs to hopefully take his mind off of Taylor. Taylor. Was she thinking about him as much as he was of her?

  He could spot Cal a mile away in his lime green shirt, and realized that not much had changed about his frat brother. Lime green? Seriously? Kalon weaved his way through the dancers on the floor. A few women reached out and grabbed his arm to dance, but he managed to smile and keep moving. One woman actually had the nerves to grab his ass! Whatever happened to men being the ones who did the pursuing? Women these days were too damn bold. But not Taylor.

  Ephraim came over and ushered Kalon to a corner table near the disc jockey platform. Kalon went around the table, embracing his four frat brothers with their coded handshake.

  Kalon sat and all five men blurted, “Alpha Phi Alpha.” Instantly, they broke out laughing.

  Cal was the first to speak. “Man, I saw you getting molested on that dance floor.”

  Kalon smirked as he replied, “Don’t be a hater because I still got it.” He popped the collar of his shirt. “Besides, I saw you sitting over here with that loud ass, lime green shirt.”

  The table of men let out howls of laughter.

  Pretty boy Josh chimed in, “Man, you just got my leftovers. I had those women ready to go before you got here.”

  In their college days, once a girl saw Josh’s blue eyes they were putty in his hands. However, Kalon had more style, charisma, and game. When he laid his “mack” on them, Josh didn’t stand a chance.

  Kalon patted Josh’s shoulders as though talking to an adolescent. “We both know you used to get my leftovers and sloppy seconds. Remember Karen?”

  The other three men bellowed, causing Josh to glare at Kalon.

  “Should I mention Jackie, Felicia, or Chrissy?” When Josh’s caramel skin flushed an angry red, Kalon added, “Your leftovers? No, no, no, my man. Your ass never got the chance to make it to the fridge.”

  “Damn, you’re going to let him clown you like that?” Cal said.

  Ephraim laughed and chimed in with, “Well, he’s telling the truth. Josh could reel ’em in, but Kalon took them home.”

  “That’s cold,” Matt said.

  The cocktail waitress appeared and asked Kalon, “Can I take your drink order?” She placed the empty beer bottles on her tray, and took another round of orders from the rest of his frat.

  Ephraim put an end to Kalon’s and Josh’s banter. “A’ight, enough of who used to get the most panties talk.”

  “Then what else is there to talk about?” Josh asked, giving his friends a smile and causing Kalon to nod.

  “Who’s getting what right now?” Kalon answered, and all of the men laughed.

  “I’m married, so I’m not getting any,” Cal said.

  Josh pointed his index finger. “See, that’s why I never wanted to do that marriage thing.”

  “And who would want to marry your non-commitment ass, you never stay in one place,” Matt teased. “Hit and run should be your middle name.”

  “What about you?” Cal asked Kalon, and Ephraim grimaced.

  “I’m trying to get into a little something.” He took a long swallow of his Bourbon. “Actually, I’d do better trying to get out of a little something first, but I’m not here to talk about that.”

  “Word!” Matt said.

  “That’s what’s up.”

  Kalon smiled at his friends and they eased into other conversations, which ranged from work, sports, and back to sex.

  For the next hour the liquor kept coming, and when the drinks hit hard enough to make them a little bolder, his boys started mingling with women in the club and left Kalon at the table alone.

  He licked the salt off the palm of his hand and squeezed the lime into his mouth so he could down the last shot of tequila. He now had four empty glasses sitting in front of him; it had been a long time since he’d had that much in his system.

  Feeling buzzed, he glanced around the room for his boys to tell them he was calling it a night. Matt was the closest to him doing a two-step with a petite blonde. He was about to test his leg usage out, when a woman with a smooth, cocoa complexion strutted to the table. Kalon’s gaze followed her long legs, up to the small waist, perfect breasts, and ended with a gorgeous face. She batted those long lashes twice. In a silky voice, she asked, “Do you want to dance?”

  Kalon felt his manhood twitch in his boxers. “Down boy,” he muttered, and placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her to the center of the dance floor. Several of the widescreen televisions plastered on the walls around the club showed the videos of the songs being played by the DJ. The lights flashed sporadic rainbow colors and the music became a slow dance. The long, leggy creature crushed her body against his, grinding against him hard and running her hands through his thick Mohawk. She wrapped one leg around his and practically dry humped him on the floor. Kalon’s hands stayed on her back; he was afraid to move them because as hard as he was, he was about to take this woman right on the club floor.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” she whispered, tracing his earlobe with her wet tongue. Her lips moved down to the base of his neck, and the heat of her hot breath made him stammer when he tried to answer.

  This woman, in all of her Amazon glory, was wreaking havoc on his ability to say yes, no, or maybe. He glanced to
his right and saw Josh dancing with a big booty girl, grinding her from behind. Josh grinned and sent Kalon a thumbs up.

  Kalon had never turned down an invitation from a beautiful woman, but now he was about to deny himself the one thing he loved the most … the cookie. He was a bachelor, untamed, and was throwing in his player’s card for one woman. A woman who had lied to him, who had deceived him, and who hadn’t bothered to call and let him know that she was all right. That was what hurt the most.

  Kalon removed the beauty’s arms from around his neck and took a step back. The woman gazed at him with a confused expression. When she parted her lips to speak, Kalon placed an index finger on her lips to silence her. He leaned in to whisper, “You’re a beautiful woman, but I can’t go home with you tonight. My heart belongs to another.”

  The woman frowned at first, but then understanding dawned in her dark brown eyes and she said, “Whoever she is, she must be one lucky woman.”

  “She doesn’t know the half of it,” he replied and guided her from the dance floor.

  ***

  Taylor glared up at the center of the ceiling. Pain pills and bed rest were making her angrier than not being able to go home. She was going nuts at her parents’ home! Nurse Joy and her parents kept her caged like an animal. She wasn’t even allowed to be left unsupervised, like she was a child.

  Her cell phone was still missing, and every time she asked her mother about it she waved her off. “Oh, Taylor, you need to worry about getting better and not a stupid phone,” she’d reply.

  Pam and Libby would drop by every other day to brief her on the latest news with the company, which is the only reason she stayed on top of things when it came to her work. Taylor wanted to ask them to use their phone, but after so much time had passed, she felt too embarrassed to call him and apologize.