Diva Diaries Read Online Free PDF Page A

just invited sucking. If there was one thing Jordan always had to resist, it had been his lips.
    Jordan had to snap out of her daydream about Jayon. She didn’t know what to think about what just happened at the office, but by that time the traffic broke and she was too busy swerving through traffic to come to a conclusion.
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    It was about a quarter to eleven when Jordan finally arrived home. She hurried in the house, dropped her tan leather briefcase by the door, and kicked off her tan Gucci pumps. She went through the front porch and family room—there was no sign of Omar. She walked into the dining room and found that the table was set for two, including two glasses of champagne and two lit candles. She studied the room for a minute, at the carefully decorated details, before she continued to search for Omar. He had managed to make the dining room feel like a restaurant with a romantic ambiance, right in their own home.
    She headed back out of the dining room and was about to walk upstairs when she heard the TV in the living room. She walked into the living room, and there was Omar lying on the couch, fast asleep. He still had the remote in his hand and was fully dressed, with the exception of his shoes. She just stood there looking at him for about two minutes, feeling absolutely horrible and momentarily hating her career. He had done so much to make tonight special, and here he was, knocked out on the couch, because he was here all alone waiting. Instead of harping on the guilt, she headed upstairs, planning on trying to still have a romantic night the best they could.
    Jordan prepared herself for the night, hoping that she hadn’t ruined it completely. She took about ten minutes to freshen up and change, and then she headed back downstairs. Omar was still fast asleep on the couch, unaware that Jordan had even come home. She quietly walked up close to him, knelt down, and gently kissed his lips. At first there was no reaction, and then she gently kissed them again. He jumped up, and after shaking off his confusion, he looked directly at the time on the satellite cable. He then looked back at Jordan, frustration all over his face.
    Once she saw that he was obviously upset with her late arrival, she quickly explained, “Baby, I’m so sorry ... I hit traffic ... I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer the phone.”
    Omar didn’t respond—he just got up off the couch and walked upstairs. She knew that she couldn’t get upset; she hated waiting on Omar more than anything in the world, so she would be a hypocrite not to understand. Not to mention, he had given her advance notice of his special plans for the evening. This was just one incident where her demanding job caused a problem at home.
    Jordan figured she’d better try to salvage what was left of the evening. She went into the kitchen and started heating up the meal that Omar had cooked at least two hours earlier. Once it was heated, she served the food and the champagne. She made sure the table was all ready before she went upstairs to get Omar. She just hoped he hadn’t gone back to sleep or had already decided to assume his stubborn mode.
    When she reached the bedroom, he was just changing out of his clothes to get ready for bed. She took a few moments before she said anything, and he didn’t say anything to her, either, although he noticed her in the doorway. She watched him slip out of his pants and shirt, and was admiring him walking around in his blue-and-gray boxers and wifebeater. Omar was five-eleven, 185 pounds, and had a nice chisel to his body. He wasn’t stocky or cut up, but he had a full frame, just how Jordan liked it. He was light-skinned, with a bald head, and piercing, dark-brown eyes that always had a slight puffiness under them. He had lots of facial hair, which he kept manicured, just leaving a slight goatee. After she finished admiring her husband’s physique, she realized if