About That Night Read Online Free

Clinton Jr.”
    Tucking Gwen to his side, Javier flipped his hair from his eyes. “Dude,” he said, offering C.J. a fist bump.
    C.J. stared at Javier’s hand until he slowly lowered it. “My mother needs some coffee,” he told the younger man. His mother was dating a man younger than her own sons. Then again, his father’s last two wives had also been younger than him. Maybe he could fix Javier up with Carrie. Get them both of out his hair. “Black. And plenty of it.”
    Before Javier could respond, C.J. gently tugged his mother away from him and escorted her to a table in the corner. Helped her into a chair.
    She frowned at him the best she could with a forehead full of Botox. “Are we done dancing?”
    “We’re taking a break,” he told his mother, sitting next to her. “Your dear, dear friend is going to get us some coffee.”
    She patted his knee. “Javier is such a sweetheart. He’s an aspiring model, you know. Though his true love is the theater.”
    A model. That explained the thick neck, gelled hair and blindingly white teeth. “I hadn’t realized you were seeing anyone,” C.J. said casually. “Or that you’d be bringing a date.”
    “Javier and I met weeks ago at a yoga class,” she said with a wave of her hand, her red, talon-like nails almost taking out C.J.’s eye. “I enjoy spending time with him. He’s attractive and attentive. I hadn’t realized how advantageous it was for a man to be so limber until we made love in the backseat of the Bentley. Of course I’m referring to his limbs being flexible,” she said, leaning forward and patting C.J.’s hand reassuringly, “not his penis, which is quite straight, thank goodness.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though, just between us, it could use another inch or two.”
    C.J. sat frozen, his mouth hanging open, a strange buzzing in his head. Forget the forks in his eyes. He’d much rather use them to dig his mother’s words from his ears.
    She was often thoughtless with her words, careless with her deeds, but the alcohol had obviously washed away any and all filters between her brain and her mouth.
    No doubt about it. He really was in hell.
    “Please,” he managed to choke out, holding up his hand as if that would stop her from talking, “I’d like to keep up the illusion that you don’t have a sex life, and that would be easier to do if you didn’t share details.”
    He made a mental note never to ride in her car again.
    She laughed and slapped his arm. “Don’t be silly. Just because you’re my son doesn’t mean you and I can’t be friends, as well. And friends tell each other such things.”
    “I will never tell you such things,” he promised solemnly. “Ever.”
    “Well, just know that you can. But I do hope you won’t divulge anything I’ve said to your father.”
    Her voice had been casual, her expression clear. If C.J. hadn’t looked carefully, he would have missed the calculation in her eyes, the small, satisfied smile turning up the corners of her mouth. As if all she needed for her evil plans to come to fruition was for C.J. to regale his disabled father with stories of her sexual escapades, causing Senior to become insanely jealous, toss aside his latest bimbo and finally come crawling back to Gwen.
    C.J. had an entire lifetime of experience when it came to Gwen and her manipulations. As a kid, he’d fallen for her act too many times to count. Had run to his father every time Gwen had a date, had told Senior about the days she’d spent locked in her room, crying over him. But no matter how hard C.J. had tried, no matter how much he’d begged, his father had never come back.
    Damn it, Kane should be the one handling this. The one hearing all about their mother’s love life with her white-toothed, greasy-haired, flexible, less-than-well-endowed boy toy.
    C.J. jerked to his feet, intending to find his brother and force him to take responsibility for what happened at his engagement party. He turned blindly, took a