Between The Sheets

Chapter 1

It was a typical Friday night in the middle of April. All of Whitney Harrison's friends and family were gathered around at a long dinner table at one of Atlanta's hottest restaurants.

Co-workers and cousins chatted about the economy problems, while Whitney couldn't keep her nerves calm.
"Where is he?!" Whitney whispered loudly to herself before swallowing down her third glass of Chardonnay. Her eyes scanned the front entrance for about a thousand times as she continued to worry.

Whitney's mother came by and placed a hand on her worried daughters' shoulder, assuring her that everything was under control.
"He'll be here baby. I know he will. Slow down on the drinking, will you?" Her mama shot a look of discomfort to her 28 year-old only child.

Whitney swallowed deeply, closed her eyes and nodded. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay, but she didn't feel the same way.

It was now almost 15 minutes past 11:00 p.m., and everyone had been at the restaurant since 9 waiting on Whitney's long time boyfriend Marcus Richards to make his signature arrival. After all, Marcus was the one who put the event together, and now he was hours late for it.

Upset that something could be wrong, Whitney guzzled down some more wine as soon as her mother turned her back, not even once touching her plate of pasta that was now cold.
The empty glass clinked to the plate, as Whitney set it down. Chardonnay dropped from her drunken lips. Her mother turned around in disbelief, shaking her head.

"You need to eat something baby. Hold off on the alcohol-"
"MAMA! I'm fine!" Whitney plopped her head down onto the table, making a loud thump that quieted the whole dinner party. Soft whispers followed.

Mia Love, Whitney's best friend, sat patiently at the opposite end of the table. Away from the drowning sorrows of her friend, Mia pretended to listen and engage in some of the conversations with the invited guests. She smiled and nodded, as if she understood every detail that she was given. Finishing her meal, she washed it down with a small glass of Chardonnay. Wiping her mouth gently, she pulled out her mirror and reapplied her red lipstick, tugging at her curls.

Mia was beautiful in every word that described her. She looked amazing for the respective age of 29, and she was known to have the men falling at her feet. At 5'2, 120 pounds of lean muscle, Mia was a jaw-dropper. She had jet-black hair that reached to the middle of her back, almond-butter colored skin, with relatively small features of a lady younger than her actual age, she was the true definition of an Ebony queen, but had no king.

Much like her friend of more than a tender decade,
Whitney was slender and small as well, a couple inches taller than Mia and had about 20 lbs on her that she kept tightly packed in her ass and thighs.

One glance would make one think they were sisters, while the major differences between the two women were more spiritual.
Whitney was once a hopeless romantic, while Mia couldn't care less about love.
Whitney would wait all day by the phone for a phone call, while a man would be lucky if Mia even had his number saved.

Successful business women yes they both were, but there was something that ultimately distinguished the difference between these two close friends. At the same time, it tied them together in the first place.

Mia trailed off in her thoughts, tracing the empty glass of Chardonnay with her fingers until she was pulled from her daydream.

Moments later, noises from flashing cameras and microphones erupted into the restaurant. Hundreds of questions filled the scene, as Whitney's boyfriend of 2 years came strolling in with 3 body guards and a sea of paparazzi.
Wearing a black dress shirt, black slacks and matching loafers, his demeanor screamed money.

The paparazzi jumped in excitement.

"Mr. Richards, do you really think you can take the team to the playoffs this year?!"

"How much did that Rolex cost on your arm?!"

"Can you tell us why you're here?!"

Ignoring the constant questioning, Marcus removed his shades and scanned the restaurant for his party after dapping it up with nearby celebrities.

Marcus Ty Richards was everything but ordinary. Standing at 6'5, 200 lbs of pure muscle, with a soft brown tone of skin, he was definitely worth looking at.
He had a short brush cut and sported a thick, full beard. He had the perfect round, almond eyes with the sexiest smile anyone had ever seen. If Trey Songz wasn't already known to be 'Mr. Pantydropper', Marcus would certainly have the title.

Mia damn near knocked over her glass of wine, after catching a quick glimpse of this fine brother. She tried everything in her power to make sure no one noticed. She had to admit, Whitney picked a good one this time. Marcus was fine as hell.

"Baby!! You made it!!" Whitney dashed across the restaurant into the muscular arms of her significant other, ignoring the fact that she was beyond drunk and their every move was being captured by cameras.

Marcus didn't want to make a big deal about the way Whitney was basically embarrassing herself in front of the celebrity paparazzi, so he hugged her back, embracing her sweet smell of essence that tied them two together. After all, this was the woman he loved with every vein in him.

"Where were you? I was- I was- I-" Whitney trailed off into her choice of words, pointing back at the dinner party table. Drunk as ever, she probably didn't even know what she was saying to begin with.

"I was doing an interview with Wendy Williams and then that turned into signing and autographs, but don't worry now baby, I'm here." Marcus smiled and kissed a quiet Whitney on the forehead, squeezing her tightly before walking to greet the rest of the guests.

Marcus exchanged another million "hi's" and "hello's" with everyone else. When he finally got a chance to sit down, the focus immediately turned onto the couple.