About the Author
Visit her website at www.jacquelinthomas.com. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
As Macy Baldwin strolled through the stunning marble and mirrored lobby of the Le Galleria Luxury Apartments in Murray Hill, waving at the concierge as she sashayed toward the elevators, her shoes made a soft clicking sound.
She pressed the "up" button with a fuchsia-colored fingernail. She tapped her right foot impatiently against the Italian marble floors while waiting for the elevator to arrive. Out of the corner of her eye, Macy noticed the way one of the women standing nearby was staring at her Darius Cordell gown and whispering to her companion.
Most women would've been uncomfortable wearing the strapless black dress and matching tulle wrap at eight o'clock in the morning, but not Macy. It didn't bother her that her clothing announced to the world she'd spent the night someplace other than her own home.
With a subtle lifting of her chin, Macy gave the woman a haughty look. She was a grown woman and didn't have to answer to anyone. Nor did she give a flip what the woman thought.
The elevator arrived, bringing with it a sigh of gratitude from Macy.
She was the first one on and the first one off when the doors opened on the eighth floor.
Macy was tired, having spent most of the night in the arms of William Michaels, a popular actor—only to have him run out on her as soon as she hopped into the shower. he'd come to New York to promote his latest movie on a couple of talk shows. Macy and William had been involved in an on-and-off-again long-distance relationship for the past year or so.
She had hopes that he would finally get around to proposing. Instead, this morning he'd broken up with her— only he didn't have the guts to do it himself. The jerk had sent his agent to do it.
Just thinking about William's rude treatment of her made Macy grow hot with anger. It wasn't like she was really in love with him or anything. Her ego was bruised. She would've preferred being the one to do the dumping, instead of the one being dumped.
Who did he think he was? It's not like he was a good actor anyway, Macy fumed in silence. he'd only gotten the part in the first place as a special favor from her godfather, one of Hollywood's more successful African American directors.
While thinking of ways to ruin William's budding career, Macy fumbled through her purse to find her keys as she strolled down the hall to her apartment.
She smiled at her neighbor, Austin, as she passed him in the hall.
"Good morning, girlfriend," he greeted. "Looks like you had a wonderful time last night."
"I did. This morning was different, though. The great William Michaels turned out to be a jerk." Macy didn't care that only a few days ago, she'd been singing William's praises to Austin in this very same hallway.
Austin frowned and huffed, " Men. You can't live with ’em and you can't live without ’em." Straightening his jacket, he said, " Well, sorry to hear that you and William are over—he sure is gorgeous."
"A gorgeous jerk," Macy mumbled as she unlocked her front door and stepped into her apartment. The last thing she expected to hear was an angry baritone voice asking, " Where have you been, young lady?"
Startled, Macy jumped and whirled around at the sound of her father's voice. She laid her purse down on the sofa table and placed a shaky hand to her chest to calm her rapidly beating heart. "You nearly scared the life out of me. What are you doing here?"
Macy regretted giving her parents a key to her apartment.
Then, Macy glanced around, fully expecting to find her mother.
She wasn't disappointed.
Rhetta Larson-Baldwin walked out of Macy's bedroom. "What were you doing in my room?"
Her mother didn't respond. Instead, she moved to stand beside her husband, wearing a judgmental furrow above her brow, her face as pale as the cream-colored Chanel suit she wore.
They were united, and their unity meant bad news for Macy. She was sure of it.
"Your mother and I want to talk to you." Maynard Baldwin's eyes scanned Macy's clothing with disdain.
"I spent the night with a friend," she stammered while pulling at the wrap. He was still an intimidating force in her life. Macy stood a few feet away from him, her face pale but proud.
"I gathered as much," he responded in a dry tone. Inside Macy was bristling. He's got some nerve. I'm grown. I can do whatever I want to do, she wanted to say. She moved out of her parents" house two years ago and had since been living on her own.
"Father—" Macy began.
Maynard held up his hand as if to say he didn't want to hear whatever lie she'd managed to come up with.
"Why didn't you pack an overnight bag or something?, Rhetta inquired. "I would think that you'd prefer not to give your neighbors anything to gossip about. You really should be more discreet, dear."
"I don't worry about my neighbors, Mother," Macy shot back. "I'm not like you. I don't care what other people think. Besides, they're just jealous."
Her father glared at her, his mouth taking on an unpleasant twist. "When did you intend to tell us that you weren't graduating next week?"
"We've been telling everyone that you were graduating, Macy," Rhetta interjected. "What am I going to tell everyone now?"
"You don't have to tell them anything—it's not their business what I'm doing. But if you want to tell your friends something, just tell them I'm taking a few more classes."
Maynard uttered, " Macy, you can't stay in college forever."
"I'm not trying to," she countered. "Professor Greenley refused to let me take my final exam and then failed me. It's not my fault." Macy was unable to meet his gaze.
This time it was her mother interrogating her. "Why couldn't you take the exam?"
"I was five minutes late for class and he wouldn't let me in. I'd overslept because I'd been up all night studying for the test," Macy lied. Her mind was working overtime to appease her father.
Her father's expression indicated that he clearly didn't believe her.
Wispy bangs fell across her forehead. Frustrated, Macy pushed them out of the way. "I was only five minutes late. It's the truth."
Like her parents, Macy knew that when she proclaimed something to be the truth, she was definitely lying.
"So, what happened with your other classes?, Maynard questioned. "Why are you failing them?"
It was becoming increasingly clear that her father wasn't going to let up on her. "My professors hate me," Macy whined. "Can't you see that? It's a conspiracy— they are just looking for reasons to fail me. They don't like the fact that I come from money. They have the mentality that we are trying to be like white people. They say that about anyone who refuses to walk around wearing African clothing, big Afros, and speaking Ebonics, especially Professor Mankuma. I've told you how he treats me."
"Surely you don't believe that, Macy." Rhetta asked. Shaking her head, she added, " I can't believe this is the best excuse you could come up with. When are you going to take responsibility for your actions?"
Pointedly ignoring her mother, Macy said, " Father, I've decided that maybe I should change my major. I really don't like African American studies. I was thinking that maybe I could switch to fashion design. You know how much I like—"
"What good would it do?, Maynard interjected.
"Let's be honest here. Macy, the truth is that you have no interest in anything outside of shopping."
She gave her father a wounded look, her eyes filling with tears.
"I am very disappointed in you," Maynard began.
"Your mother and I have paid good money to put you through the last five years of college, Macy. You've done nothing but mess around—most people would love to have the advantages you've been awarded."
"Father."
His mouth dipped into an even deeper frown. "I'm talking."
Macy was silenced by the tone of Maynard's voice and his dark, angry expression. She looked to her mother for help, but Rhetta just dropped her gaze. Her mother would not go against her husband. That was usually the case, Macy acknowledged and sighed in resignation.
Macy reluctantly returned her gaze to her father. She hated the stern expression he wore on his face. This time she was in hot water with him. She watched him as he took a seat on the leather sofa.
In a show of solidarity, Rhetta moved to join her husband. Maynard gestured for Macy to take a seat as well.
In her own apartment, she'd allowed herself to be reduced to a child again. Macy sat down on the club chair, waiting. For what, she wasn't sure. She just knew she wasn't going to like it.
Her father seemed to be searching for the right words. After a moment, he took Rhetta's hand and said, " Your mother and I have made a decision. First of all, I want you to know that this wasn't easy for us, but we have to do what we think is best."
Macy didn't like the vibe she was getting from her parents. She knew instinctively that what they were about to say was going to upset her. Her hands trembling, she pulled the folds of her wrap together to cover her cleavage out of respect for her parents.
"We've decided to make some changes," he said. In a defensive gesture, Macy folded her arms across her chest as a wave of dread spread over her body. "What type of changes?"
"We're no longer going to support you, Macy." It took her a moment to really comprehend what he was telling her. Surely he didn't mean it. He couldn't mean he was taking away her funds. Macy could endure almost anything but that. She unconsciously twisted her slender hands together.
"Father, just let me drop out of college. I really don't know what I want to do anyway. Maybe I can just take a year off and then go back."
Stroking his chin, Maynard regarded his daughter carefully. "I'm in agreement with you leaving college. y... --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
