by Nita Brooks
She turned and sauntered down the hall. Irritation wrapped around Yvonne. She tried to pinpoint exactly when she’d gotten irritated. Nathan’s disappointment at not being invited, his ridiculous fight with Cassidy, the equally ridiculous way they’d looked at each other as if Yvonne had done something wrong.
“She made salmon,” Nathan said. “It’s really good with a brown sugar glaze. She found the recipe online.”
She shook her head. Even more exhausted than before. “You know what? I really need to go if I’m going to pick up Jacob in time. We’re going by my sister’s house this afternoon. I promised to help her decorate her office.”
Valerie had texted earlier that day asking for assistance with the color scheme in her new office. Her sister’s commercial real estate business was taking off and she wanted a posh new interior to match the clients she was bringing in. Yvonne was more than happy to help, but she knew Valerie had an ulterior motive. Mom must have told her about Richard.
“Are you sure? You just got here?”
She nodded then leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “I just wanted to see you and tell you how the conversation went. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Right after the meeting.”
“Right after.”
He kissed her again and she left. It wasn’t until she was halfway home that she realized he hadn’t sounded very eager for her to stick around.
Chapter 8
Yvonne picked up Jacob from afterschool care and went straight to Valerie’s home. By the time she and Jacob pulled up at her sister’s colonial duplex, after dealing with traffic and the left-over irritation from her impromptu visit with Nathan, all she wanted to do was kick off her shoes, grab a cocktail, and get Valerie’s take on everything in her life.
She rang the doorbell and firmly held onto Jacob’s hand to stop him from ringing the doorbell incessantly as a “fun joke” to play on auntie. She smiled at Jacob’s enthusiasm, despite how exasperating his excitement about ringing a doorbell may be. How would he react when she told him about Richard? Would he be just as exuberant? Confused? Sad? He’d asked about his real dad, but with Nathan around the questions had stopped.
She would not let Richard break her son’s heart. She’d do everything in her power to keep him from Jacob if tomorrow she got any hint he would cause harm to their child. She didn’t care how hard she’d have to fight him. Jacob was her number one priority.
Valerie opened the door. Her cell phone was pressed to her ear. “Uh huh, I hear you. My sister is here.” She waved Yvonne and Jacob inside.
“Auntie!” Jacob yelled and wrapped his arms around Valerie’s legs.
Her sister stumbled back a few steps, grinned, and rubbed the top of the tight coils on his head. “Hey, Superboy!”
“You got any cookies?” Jacob asked.
“You know where to find them,” Valerie replied.
“Yes!” Jacob pumped his fist and took off running down the hall toward the kitchen.
Yvonne closed the door behind her. “Who you talking to? Your boyfriend?” she teased.
Valerie rolled her eyes. “Girl, please. I don’t have time for a man.” Her brows drew together as she listened to whomever was on the phone. “And you shut up. I do not need to get my Bruno Mars on and make love like gorillas.”
Yvonne laughed and followed her sister down the hall. “Tell Eva I said hi.” Only Valerie’s best friend Eva would have told Valerie to make love like gorillas.
“My sister said hi,” Valerie said.
They entered the kitchen. Jacob was trying to pull a handful of cookies out of the jar Valerie kept on the kitchen table just for him.
“Oh no, mister,” Yvonne said. She hurried over. Shook his wrist until the handful of cookies fell then pulled out two. “Take these.”
“I’m hungry,” he said pouting.
“And I’m about to order pizza.”
His face brightened like a beautiful night sky. He took the cookies. “Hamburger or peperoni?”
“Hamburger, of course,” she said. Jacob loved pizza with ground beef.
“Yes! I’m going to watch TV until it comes.” He nearly ran out of the kitchen. His footsteps pounded on the stairs as he made his way up to Valerie’s media room.
Yvonne sat at the table and ordered pizza, wings, and a salad. She pulled a beer from the fridge and half listened as Valerie played sounding board to Eva’s latest drama. More than once Valerie looked at Yvonne and either rolled her eyes, shrugged in a you-know-she’s-drama fashion, or waved a fist to the sky. Each time Yvonne laughed and continued munching on cookies while scrolling through emails on her phone.
There were several from Sandra. She’d emailed a few of the preliminary sketches to her for some of the room ideas before leaving the office early. Sandra loved the designs and couldn’t wait to see more. Well, at least she hadn’t burned that bridge with her stay-out-of-my-personal-life stance.
“Nah, I can’t come through this weekend,” Valerie said into the phone. “I told you I’ve got to go to my dad’s banquet on Saturday.”
Yvonne full on listened to her sister’s conversation now. After divorcing Rochelle, Valerie’s dad married again and had two more kids. His disdain for Rochelle was clear whenever the two were together, but he still spent time with his daughter.
Yvonne was envious of her sister’s relationship with her dad. She’d never admit it out loud, but she was. How could she not be? Dear old Deacon Jones had moved multiple states away. She had a last name and knew he moved his family to Virginia or Maryland, but that was it. She didn’t cyberstalk her biological family on Facebook, though the temptation to do so was very strong even with the multiple Joneses listed in Google. She figured if he didn’t want her or anything to do with her then she didn’t want anything to do with him.
“Yes, the Decatur Chamber Hall of Fame banquet. They’re honoring him, but you know it’s just to keep him as a member.” Valerie paused and listened. “Well . . . I mean if you want to. Aren’t you hanging out with Antwan?”
More silence as Valerie listened. This time when she shrugged Yvonne tapped her watch. She was here to vent her own frustrations, not listen to her sister pacify her best friend. Valerie nodded and gave her a thumbs up.
Five minutes later, she finally got off the phone with Eva. “Girl! I’m so sorry. Eva was on a roll today.” Valerie pulled out a chair at the table and sat.
“What’s the deal with her today?”
“What do you think? Antwan is too busy to spend time with her. He doesn’t want to be a part of a deal that could make him money. He’s only interested in running for office,” Valerie said in an exhausted voice. She grabbed Yvonne’s beer and took a swig.
“I thought she’d be happy to be the girlfriend of an influential council member.”
Yvonne didn’t like to talk ill of other women, but Eva was the epitome of high maintenance. Yvonne was surprised Valerie’s friend was able to find a man who met all her needs. But she always did.
“She liked the idea, but now it’s sinking in that if Antwan is elected, he’ll have to be a servant to the people. She’s upset he’s going to a community clean-up this weekend instead of taking her to the Chamber’s Hall of Fame banquet.”
“Yeah, I heard you mention that. So, your dad is getting an award?”
Valerie smiled. Pride on her face. “He is. That salt membrane thing he worked on. Well, a desalination company in California is buying his idea.”
“That’s great, Valerie. Tell him I said congrats.”
Valerie’s dad opened his own lab soon after the divorce. He’d worked in other labs that handled samples for various government departments and businesses, but he’d also tinkered with concocting things. Soon after, he’d begun selling some of the compounds he came up with and had made millions over the years. Their mom liked to pretend as if her ex-husband had become successful just to further rub in her face how much of a mistake she’d made. Yvonne didn’t spend much tim
e with Valerie’s dad—he was nice enough to her but not exactly friendly—but in the time she was around him she knew he was over Rochelle and didn’t spend half as much of his time thinking about her as she did about him.
“I will. Eva really wanted to go to the banquet and support Dad. Antwan had campaign stuff. Let the drama ensue. Not to mention Mom being upset that I’m going instead of coming with her to the church picnic.”
“Why does she keep getting mad at you for spending time with your dad?” If her dad had bothered to be around, she’d want to spend time with him.
“Because she’s Mom.” Valerie took another sip of the beer. “She’s more mad at you, though.”
She didn’t need to guess the reason. “She told you?”
“Richard Barrington, the third. Dang, Yvonne, why didn’t you tell me?”
The doorbell rang then. The pizza arrived. Yvonne was spared immediately answering the disappointment in her sister’s expression as she paid for the food. She got Jacob set up in front of the television upstairs with two slices and a bottle of water with a cherry Kool-Aid pack to sweeten it. By the time she came back down, Valerie had put the pizza and salad on plates and gotten two more beers from the fridge.
“Now, tell me why you didn’t tell me Richard Barrington is Jacob’s—”
“Can we not say that out loud.” Yvonne looked toward the stairs. Jacob was nowhere in sight. He wouldn’t be downstairs for at least another fifteen or twenty minutes. Still, she didn’t want him to overhear that his dad was around until she was ready for them to meet.
“Why not?”
Yvonne pointed upstairs. Valerie sighed but nodded. “Fine. You could have told me.”
“I didn’t want to tell anyone.” She gave the quick rundown of their history. An abbreviated CliffsNotes version that left out much of her heartbreak and focused more on the complete malice of Richard’s family.
“Wow . . . I never would have guessed he’d be like that,” Valerie said, tapping a finger on the side of her beer can. “He always seemed so . . . I don’t know . . . honorable.”
Yvonne slammed her beer can on the table. “You know him? How?”
“I don’t know him know him. I met him once or twice. About two years ago when I helped his brother buy a hotel.”
“What? Did he know you’re my sister?”
“Honestly, family didn’t come up. His brother wanted him to invest in the property with him and he came down to look. The brother, Michael, is more of a flirty, bachelor playboy kind of guy. Richard came across stiff, but nice. He had the I’m-the-responsible-one vibe, and he wanted to make sure the deal was fair and square. We barely talked to each other except to go over the things with the sale.”
Yvonne fell back in the chair. Richard had been that close to her and her family. Just a few degrees of separation and their paths could have crossed earlier. Was this fate? Were they basically destined to bump into each other again?
“I’m meeting him tomorrow. I think Nathan is upset about that.”
“Well, Nathan will be okay,” Valerie said dismissively. “You need to get out whatever you need to get out between you two. Having Nathan there will only delay the inevitable.”
“What inevitable?”
“When the huge pile of crap between you two blows up and covers everything.”
Yvonne cringed. “That is not a good mental picture.”
Valerie shrugged. “I’m not good at mental pictures, but I am good at telling the truth. There is a lot of stuff you two need to get out in the open before anyone else comes treading in the middle of it. Take your time. If Nathan loves you the way he says he does, he’ll understand.”
That’s what worried her. The way he says he does. Wasn’t there a saying about people showing their love instead of saying it? She didn’t want a big gesture at a baseball game. She wanted him to understand how hard this was and be her support.
Of course, he will be supportive. He’s just surprised and getting accustomed to the idea.
“You’re right,” she said with a smile.
“Good. Now can we look at ideas I have for the office while you tell me your game plan for meeting with R.B. tomorrow?”
“That is the real reason I’m here,” she said.
“Good. I’ll go get the pictures,” Valerie said, standing. “And when I come back we’ll start with what you’re going to wear.”
Yvonne laughed. “What I’m wearing?”
“Yes. Clothes set the tone. And, sister, tomorrow you’re going to need a don’t-mess-with-me-or-I’ll-cut-you outfit.”
Chapter 9
The next afternoon at three, Yvonne sat stiffly in the booth at Jacob’s favorite ice cream parlor and glanced at the door. Sweet Cream was Jacob’s favorite place because they hand made the ice cream in front of you. She’d picked the place because it was the least intimate location she could think of for her meeting with Richard.
Dinner implied intimacy, her home was off limits until she knew his end game, and no way in hell was she meeting him at his home or hotel. She still wasn’t clear if he’d moved to Atlanta or was just here temporarily.
She stared at the empty seat across from her and jerked apart the napkin she’d gotten with her bowl of cookie dough ice cream. She’d have to get a carton of chocolate, Jacob’s favorite, before leaving. Richard wouldn’t know Jacob’s favorite ice cream flavor. Wouldn’t understand that Jacob loved watching the employees mix together the ice cream or how excited he got when they put extra gummy bears on top of his. How could he expect her to let him anywhere near her child until she was sure of his intentions? He wouldn’t break her son’s heart the same way he’d—
Nope. Don’t go down that road again.
The bell over the door chimed. She looked up, caught Richard’s eye, and straightened. A weird flutter went through her chest and she broke eye contact, swept the broken napkin into her hand and dumped the pieces into her purse. No need to provide evidence of how much this meeting unnerved her.
Richard’s shadow fell over her. She took a deep breath, lifted her head, and dragged her gaze back to his. The force of his stare squeezed the air from her lungs. Valerie was right to inform her to dress in a take-no-prisoners fashion. Which is why she’d worn the custom-made dark grey business suit she pulled out for heavy hitting clients. Maybe Richard had chosen to do the same, because he had shown up looking hotter than freshly laid asphalt in the middle of August in a crisp, white button up shirt beneath an expensive looking navy suit. Six years ago, she would have teased him. Said something about how his tailored suit pants showcased his legs and other endowments better than a neon packing dangerous heat sign.
She exhaled slowly and steadied her shattered nerves. After everything that happened, he didn’t deserve her teasing. Her smiles. Her remembering anything that was once between them. She tilted her head to the side and forced the corner of her mouth up into what she hoped was a bland smile.
“Richard.” Good, her voice sounded calm.
“Hello, Yvonne,” he said just as easily.
His dark gaze flicked over her quickly. Yvonne ordered her body not to fidget. That was tough, when her instinct was to make sure her hair wasn’t out of place and check that she hadn’t spilled ice cream on her suit. Richard was a shrewd businessman who knew how to spot weaknesses in his opponents. She couldn’t give him even a hint of her inner turmoil.
He slid into the other side of the booth. “I didn’t expect an ice cream parlor.” He pointed to the bowl of ice cream in front of her.
“What did you expect?” She lifted the spoon and took a small bite of the ice cream.
His gaze dropped to her lips, narrowed slightly. “I don’t know. Coffee maybe.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth to get off any remaining ice cream. Released it slowly. Richard’s nostrils flared before he shifted in the seat and looked around as if inspecting the place.
Her lips tilted up in a genuine smile. She still affected him, to
o. Good. Maybe that would make it easier to get to the point of him popping up like an unwanted zit. “I didn’t want coffee. The coffee house where I typically meet clients is too much like . . .” The place they’d first met. “Too busy this time of day. Though they do have a poetry night. I know you like poetry.”
Richard shook his head. “I don’t really get into that anymore.”
The admission surprised her. Poetry had been his one creative outlet when they’d been together. “I thought you’d be up on stage reading your own words by now.”
“Things change. I barely have time to read poetry much less write it or read something I wrote for an audience.”
“Getting on stage and reading your work was something you really wanted to do.”
“There are a lot of things I wanted but couldn’t have.” His voice was low and full of regret. Their gazes locked.
She looked away first. They weren’t here to get into past regrets or not getting things they’d wanted. This was about her son. Their son. “This is Jacob’s favorite place. I thought you’d like to know that.”
He clasped his hands on the table. “I want to meet him as soon as possible.”
She stirred her ice cream with the plastic spoon and tried to keep the anxiety that flared from his request in check. “You just show up unexpectedly and you’re making demands. You know I don’t respond well to demands.”
“You responded to a few of my demands well enough.” His voice lowered an octave.
Just like that, her body remembered just how good Richard’s demands could be. She pushed away her ice cream and glared. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
A flicker of uncertainty reflected on his features before his face became a hard mask. “I meant what I said. I will show up if you try to keep him from me.”
“I have no intentions of keeping him from you. Once I’m sure you really mean him no harm.”
“Why would I hurt my son?”
The disbelief in his voice was appalling. How could he pretend he didn’t have the power to hurt? “Stop talking about him as if you care.”