All the Things I Should Have Known Read online

  Also by Tiffany L. Warren

  Don’t Tell a Soul

  The Replacement Wife

  The Favorite Son

  The Pastor’s Husband

  Her Secret Life

  The Outside Child

  All the Things I Should Have Known

  TIFFANY L. WARREN

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Teaser chapter

  ALL THE THINGS I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  DAFINA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by Tiffany L. Warren

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-2369-7

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2370-3 (ebook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-2370-8 (ebook)

  First Kensington Electronic Edition: February 2020

  Acknowledgments

  I’ve gotten to another “the end” and I couldn’t be more thankful for this journey. This book reflects on relationships with the men in our lives and the sister friends that hold us together in between the love affairs. Hahna, Kimberly, and Twila are fictional representations of all the sister friends I’ve known over my forty-plus years. Their bond is incredible, and I would be proud to call any one of them my bestie.

  First, as always, I must thank my husband, Brent, and my children. I always thank them because they help write these stories. Their patience and support while I opt out of housework and movie night is impressive. My youngest child only knows me as a writer. I published my first book shortly after she was born. My writing career is part of their journey too.

  To my team at Dafina—you are amazing! Tara, thank you for your patience and encouragement. Thank you for sticking with me as I write the stories that are in my heart. Samantha, thank you for helping me get the word out about my books and coming up with the coolest giveaways. Sara, I live for our talks which run the gamut from the state of politics in our nation, to racism, to raising children—and oh . . . sometimes we get around to talking about books.

  Next, I’d like to thank Kandi and Todd Tucker from the Real Housewives of Atlanta. No, I don’t know them at all (cause I know some of y’all gonna ask me). Their love story played out on national television and gave me hope for the characters in this novel. Many blessings on your continued success and happiness.

  I couldn’t have crafted this story without all the sister friends in my life. I think of our conversations—how we call each other out, how we pray for one another, how we have one another’s backs. These relationships are fundamental to my views of sisterhood and how the stories unfold. So, a toast to the lovely ladies who hold me down at all times—Shawana, Afrika, Leah, Brandi, Cybil, Staci, Victoria, ReShonda, Renee, Helen, and Robin. Love y’all to the entire moon and back. Thank you to my work sister friends (Lorraine, Ronnie, Heather, Lauren, and Annie) who read my books and share them with everyone (even when I don’t talk about them in the office, LOL).

  Thanks goes out to the wonderful women of Alpha Kappa Alpha, Delta Sigma Theta, Sigma Gamma Rho, and Zeta Phi Beta. Although I am not in a sorority, I love the support and ride-or-die fierceness of these organizations. I hope my fictional sorority, Gamma Phi Gamma, exemplifies all of the best characteristics of these ladies I admire.

  There are a couple scenes in my book where I blow kisses to all my book club readers, friends, and supporters. Your support by purchasing books, showing up for signings, writing reviews, and sharing what I write with your avid reader friends is appreciated so much. It humbles me when I get your kind words, and even when you get mad and throw the book. Ha. Your passion for the written word ignites my passion for creating stories. I would name some of you, and then I would inevitably leave someone out, so I won’t do it—but you know who you are, you fierce sharers of Facebook posts! I love you all!

  And finally, I give all thanks and honor and praise to God who is the source of all good things—including my vivid imagination.

  Hope you all enjoy this book, and maybe even see yourself in there. Happy reading!

  Chapter 1

  A year ago today, Torian was a ghost.

  Hahna’s Facebook page reminded her of this fact. Was there a filter on Facebook to delete the bad memories and only remind you of the good ones? She slowly scrolled the page and remembered. That fateful morning, she’d woken up to a note. Five words had changed her life.

  Baby, I can’t do this.

  Hahna had no idea what this one thing was that Torian couldn’t do, because his note wasn’t specific. She had a few ideas, though. He couldn’t be faithful. He couldn’t commit. And he damn sure couldn’t tell the truth.

  Or maybe it wasn’t just one thing. Maybe Torian couldn’t do any of the things she wanted him to do—or be any of the things she wanted him to be. Just because he was a chocolate-covered demigod who made her quiver with a glance; and just because he’d showered her with expensive shoes and jewelry and vacations; and just because they’d probably make cute kids—it didn’t mean that Torian Jackson truly wanted to have a life with her.

  So, he’d disappeared, and he’d left a note as a good-bye.

  Hahna placed her phone facedown on her huge cherry-wood desk. The desk she’d splurged on when her consulting firm, the Data Whisperers, exceeded twenty-seven million dollars in annual revenue. The desk that made her office smell like old money, even though the money that bought it was brand-new.

  Hahna walked over to the large bay window that she’d had custom-installed to give her a panoramic view of the lake and magnolia trees behind the old-style Buckhead mansion that she’d renovated and turned into her company’s main office. She met with clients there and gave them gracious Southern hospitality. Sweet tea, biscuits and honey, and proposals that opened their eyes to all the ways their small companies could use the data they hoarded on laptops and tablets.

  Hahna gazed out the window, twirled her right index finger through her honey-colored curls, breathed, and found her peace. Those small actions had become muscle memory for her. She’d made it a habit to calm herself when anxiety threatened to consume her spirit.

  Sylvia, Hahna’s assistant, stepped into her office. “Hahna, I ordered the car service to take you to the airport. Is there anything else you need me to do before I get out of here for the weekend?”

  Hahna looked over at Sylvia and smiled. It was only Thursday, but Hahna was giving Sylvia a long weekend because she was taking one. Her annual spa retreat with her best friends, Twila and Kimberly. They would make her forget Torian, the ghost, and make new memories for her Facebook timeline.

  “You’re free to go, Sylvia. What do you have planned for the weekend?”

  “My grandbaby is coming over, and we’re making jewelry and having a fashion show.”

  Hearing Sylvia talk about her granddaughter made Hahna feel warm inside. The idea of doing fun activities with a little person was a dream that Hahna used to have—before she hit forty and her ovaries decided that they wanted to turn their full-time job into a part-time I-show-u
p-when-I-feel-like-it gig. And before she had a ghost boyfriend.

  But this weekend was not about the ghost, or her sometime-y ovaries. Spending time with her girls was about rejuvenation, restoration, and relaxation. Some of her favorite r words.

  “You have a good time with your beautiful granddaughter. I’ll see you on Tuesday morning.”

  “Tuesday? You’re being generous.”

  “I decided that I won’t be back until Tuesday, so you get the benefit of my wanderlust.”

  Sylvia laughed. “Wander on, baby, but be careful about that lust. Don’t come back here from that island with one of those green-card seekers.”

  “I can’t import a man? You don’t care about me importing furniture, but you won’t let me bring back some hot chocolate.”

  They shared a long laugh that felt good. Laughing, along with breathing, twirling her hair, and gazing out of her bay window, held Hahna together when her cracks started to show. That’s why the spa retreats were so important. She was going to laugh, probably at Twila’s antics, breathe in the ocean air, and twirl her hair while gazing upon every fine piece of sculpted chocolate that passed her on the beach.

  “You don’t need to import a man, sweetie. God is going to send you one.”

  Hahna accepted this as fact because Sylvia believed it, not because she had any evidence of God being concerned with her singlehood. This blessed man who might fall from the heavens was clearly on God’s time.

  “I know. If I put out positivity, I will attract positive energy.”

  “Unh-uh. Don’t start talking to me about the universe and attracting. You know good and damn well, I’m talking about Jesus. ’Bye, chil’.”

  Hahna chuckled some more as Sylvia muttered, My sweet Jesus and Oh, the blood of the Savior, all the way down the stairs. Sylvia loved the Lord but would also cuss you out about Jesus.

  Hahna walked back over to her desk and shut down her laptop. For a half second, she was tempted to bring it with her, but then she quickly changed her mind. There wouldn’t be any relaxing, rejuvenating, or restoration if she was checking emails all weekend. Plus, if any emergencies popped up while she was out of the country, her staff was more than capable.

  Corden, Hahna’s senior data analyst, peeked his head into the office.

  “Oh, good,” he said, “you’re still here. I thought you were gone already.”

  “Almost. The car service will be here in a bit. What’s up?”

  “Just a teeny-tiny client issue.”

  Hahna read Corden’s body language. His usually tucked-in button-down was half out of his skinny jeans. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and his nostrils were flared. This was not teeny-tiny. He wouldn’t be standing in her office, fifteen minutes before her car whisked her away to vacation, if it was.

  “Do I need to sit down?”

  “No . . . well, maybe . . .”

  “Shit.”

  Hahna sat down, placed her hands on the desk, and waited. She hoped it would be quick. She didn’t want to miss her flight.

  “Aliyah mistakenly sent table data from Shale Accounting to We Work Employment Agency. It was an honest mistake, but the data had sensitive personally identifiable information of Shale’s customers. Should we disclose the data breach?”

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  “I know.”

  Hahna never strategized on this type of thing without sleeping on it first, but there was no time to sleep on it this time.

  “We have to disclose it. To both parties. We Work and Shale. The issue is how we do it. We don’t want them to lose confidence in our processes.”

  “Right. So, Aliyah was sending a dashboard with sample table data over to Shale’s database analyst for review. She started typing the name Regina, but Renaldo popped up. She was going so quickly that she didn’t realize the email address was wrong.”

  “Have we already asked We Work to delete the data?”

  “Yes, we sent a communication that said the information was sent in error, and we requested that they delete it as soon as possible.”

  “So, here’s how we will handle Shale. First, create a new secure process for sharing data with their staff. I suggest we use our secure upload site. Then, explain what happened, and assure them that their customers’ data is secure.”

  “Are they going to believe it?”

  “I’ve got a good relationship with Julian Cortez, one of the partners at Shale. I think that I will be able to smooth over any rough edges when I get back.”

  “Thanks, boss, I hate to bring this up right before you leave for the beach.”

  Hahna relaxed in her chair, although she was anything but calm about this situation. If Julian and the other partners at Shale felt strongly about this data breach, then they could end up losing one of their biggest clients.

  “Also, finish their damn dashboard this weekend. I don’t care how many hours y’all have to work. Take some days off next week when I get back. We can’t deliver bad news without that dashboard being completed. And I mean ready to go, not in pilot mode. How close is Aliyah to finishing?”

  “She’s close. I think if I work with her, we can deliver the dashboard and the email on Monday.”

  “You’re not just blowing smoke up my ass, are you?”

  “No. She has been testing every page on the dashboard and is only working out a few quirks. We’ll get it done. Go enjoy the beach.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “No, you will. Did you get that bathing suit you showed me?”

  “The low-cut white one?”

  “Yes, that one. The husband maker.”

  Hahna cracked up. The swimsuit was sexy, and she’d asked Corden what he thought. The man had impeccable taste, and although he had a longtime fiancée and a daughter, he felt more like a girlfriend than a male subordinate.

  “It’s in my bag, Corden, I don’t know if I’ll be bold enough to put it on.”

  “If Twila sees it, you will. You have fun, honey. I’m gonna go catch Aliyah before she leaves and let her know it’s gonna be a long weekend.”

  “Thanks for holding this together.”

  “This is what finances my comfortable lifestyle. We’re not losing this client.”

  Hahna jumped up from her desk and hugged Corden. He had been with her from the start and was as invested in the Data Whisperers as she was.

  “Have fun, boss lady.”

  Corden left Hahna’s office to round up Aliyah, and Hahna exhaled. That could’ve been a vacation-cancelling emergency. If it had happened a couple of years ago, no one could’ve convinced her to get on a plane. But she had developed her staff, and she trusted them.

  Hahna gathered her luggage from the closet when she heard the SUV pull up in the drive downstairs. As soon as she got to the airport, the shenanigans would commence.

  Relax. Rejuvenate. Restore. Her mantra for the weekend, even if/when Twila pulled up with drama.

  Chapter 2

  Twila had stopped at the adult store on a whim, on her way to the airport. Now she wished that she’d done this the day before. She had no idea what to select in this toy emporium, not to mention their flight to Saint Lucia left in three hours.

  “Can I help you find something?”

  The deep voice that asked the question came from a sinfully fine man. Golden bronzed skin with hazel eyes that were probably contacts, but she didn’t care. Locs down to the center of his back, probably faux, but whatever. He should’ve been her man. Then she wouldn’t be in the store looking for a penile replacement.

  “I don’t know where to start,” Twila said. “I’ve never been inside a store like this.”

  Twila lied. She didn’t want him to think she was desperate or that no one wanted her, because she had options. Plenty of options. The options were unemployed, not-all-the-way divorced, old and boring, but still, when it came to scratching an itch . . . they were options.

  But she’d been inside several stores like this shopping for bachelorette party gag gifts and whatnot. Just not for something to please herself. Mostly ’cause the singles ministry at her church said masturbation was fornicating with yourself and that those orgasms were from the devil.