Merry Ex-Mas Read Online Free Page A

conceited; that's just a fact. But here's another fact: Angel was beyond pretty. She was simply gorgeous. There was no other word to describe her.
    And that was not just me talking as her mother. By the time Angel was eight years old, every agency from Elite Model Management to IMG and Ford Models was trying to make contact with Bobby Johnson's daughter. Angel had been thrilled because she'd always wanted to be a model. And an actress. And a dancer. And a singer.
    I wasn't so happy about Angel pursuing modeling so young. I mean, what about just being a kid? I didn't have that privilege; I wanted her to have the real childhood that I had never had.
    But Angel and Bobby had talked me into it, and Angel had signed with Ford Models. That was my concession. Their concession: Angel would only do occasional print and catalog work. I wasn't about to let my young daughter get too caught up.
    “ Where is the fire? ” I asked her.
    “ Dad wants to speak to you. ” Angel held out her smartphone to me.
    Now see, I had been feeling good, having a great day. And now my ex wanted to talk? What did Bobby Johnson want?
    Not that Bobby and I didn't have a cordial relationship. I was his baby's mama … and because of that, the former all-star forward for the Los Angeles Lakers made sure that all of my needs were met. So beyond this condo, my BMW, and a bank account that came with a financial planner, I had credit cards with statements that were never mailed to my address. All of that alone made me want to be cordial to the man.
    But the truth was, while I had loved him from the tips of my toes at one time, I could never forgive him for making the worst mistake of his life.
    Every single moment of that morning was still etched in my mind. That morning when Bobby had come over to the condo so that we could have a special talk. That special morning, six years ago …
    I had been giddy and giggling ever since Bobby called me yesterday saying we had to talk. It had been three weeks since I'd last seen him. Bobby may have just retired, but he was on the road. He'd gone back to his home in Dallas for a week, and then he had meetings all over the country, trying to decide his next move. I'd found out on the news (which pissed me off a little) that he was taking a position with ESPN L.A. But now that his professional future was set, I knew he wanted to take care of the personal side of his life.
    So I had already figured out what he wanted to talk to me about — we were finally going to be a family: me, Bobby, and our baby girl.
    I couldn't wait to see him; I couldn't wait to talk. And so, I made sure that I had dressed the part: a fire-red bra and thong with a matching silk knit kimono. Just as I slipped into my stiletto mules, I heard the beeps from the alarm indicating that the front door had opened.
    As I came down the stairs, Bobby waited for me at the bottom, and even though we had been together for ten years, that man still made my heart do that butterfly flutter thang. Everything about that man made me go, "Hmph, hmph, hmph!" From his sculpted chest, to his bowed legs, to the way he held his head, and his lopsided smile. But the best part of him was that face. A face that every camera loved.
    "Hey, baby," I whispered, pulling my voice from my throat.
    As Bobby's eyes glided over me, I tossed my bone-straight hair over my shoulders and rested my hands on my waist, posing for my man. This was why I worked out; this was why I hardly ate. And this was why I was a perfect size four.
    When I thought Bobby'd had his fill, I strutted over and leaned into him. I pressed against him, and I could feel the beat of his heart — and other parts. Then, Bobby did something that he never did … he eased away from me.
    That made me chuckle a little. My man wasn't going to waste any time. He wanted to get right to it.
    But when Bobby moved toward the living room instead of lifting me and carrying me upstairs to our bedroom, I frowned and followed him.
    He