Chatting with Davis had become the highlight of her day. Hearing his voice over the telephone made her happy even if the conversations were short and brief. Syncing their schedules had become a challenge that neither could master despite their best efforts. She’d been surviving on quick naps in the late afternoon and early evening, and then her night and day would start all over again. Davis still believed she was spending her time doing daughter duty, and she had no idea how to change the narrative so that it made sense without looking like she’d lied outright.
Just tell him, she thought to herself. She and Davis had found an hour between his town council meeting and her day job to catch up with each other. Davis had been sharing details of his morning. He’d met with senior citizens protesting the redistricting of a public park, and the teacher’s union threatening to strike. There’d been lunch with city clergy and stacks of proposals that had required his attention. Then he’d had dinner with his brothers, calling her before he had to be at the monthly council meeting.
“There are some days where I’m better at schmoozing than others. Today was not one of them. I couldn’t get a smile out of those old women to save my life!” Davis said with a deep laugh.
Neema laughed with him. “You were probably trying too hard. Some things you need to let evolve organically. With older people especially. You just have to let them do what they do.”
“There aren’t enough hours in the week. Those women would take up most of them to tell you about their gout, their joint pain and their hemorrhoids. I’ve never heard anyone complain about their health issues as much as those old women complained! But enough about me. How was your day? Are you still at the restaurant?”
“No. I had to run some errands for my father. Once I’m done, I’ll head back to help them clean the kitchen and close up.”
“When do you have off again? I’d really like to see you.”
“I have to work tomorrow, but I’m free the day after, I think.”
“I’d love to cook dinner for you, if you’re available?”
“You cook?”
Davis laughed again. “Why do you say it like that? Like you’re surprised I’d be able to cook.”
“I don’t know. It just...well... I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“I’m insulted! I happen to be a very good cook.”
“It wasn’t meant to be an insult. I’m actually excited to see what you can do.”
“Well, good, because I plan to show off my culinary skills. When I’m done, you’ll be apologizing for doubting me.”
“We’ll see...” Neema joked softly.
“I need to run, but I’ll try to call you after my meeting.”
“Good luck tonight,” she said, wishing him well before disconnecting the call. A gust of warm breath passed her lips, her whole face twisting into a frustrated pout. Another opportunity to tell him the truth had passed her by yet again.
CHAPTER 8
When his office door swung open, Davis looked up in surprise. With nothing scheduled on his calendar, he had not been expecting anyone and had been lost in the mountain of paperwork across his desk.
Gaia’s bright smile led the way as she and her son, Emilio, waved in greeting. “Hey there!” she said cheerfully.
“Hi, Uncle Davis!” Emilio rushed to Davis’s side to give him a hug. The youngster had shot up an inch or two since the last time Davis had seen him. He was lanky, more arms and legs than torso, with his mother’s warm coloring and a head of blond curls. Davis had always thought him a beautiful melding of his two parents, but for the first time he noticed the boy’s resemblance to his grandfather.
The two pounded fists. “Hey, dude! What’s up?” Davis said.
“We brung your paintings,” the boy answered.
His mother corrected his grammar. “We brought the paintings. Not ‘brung,’” she scolded.
“You did?” Davis gave Gaia a hug.
“I hope this isn’t a bad time?” she said.
“It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting to take possession this early. Doesn’t the show hang for another week or two?”
“For the next month, actually. But I switched them out with new work. Trying to maximize my sales as much as I can.”
Davis nodded. “I get it. Smart move. Let me help you get them out of the van.”
Gaia shook her head. “Nope! I can manage. It’s part of the customer service. I can even hang them for you if you want me to.”
“That’s not necessary.” Davis paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. “I’m actually gifting them to a family friend. Do you know Alexander Balducci?”
“I know the name, but I’ve never met him,” she said nonchalantly, not reacting at all to the disclosure.
Davis took a deep breath, released it slowly. “He’s a good friend of my father’s. They’ve done some real estate investments together. The two of them are looking for local artists to showcase in the public spaces of one of their new skyscrapers, and I thought these would be a perfect addition.”
Gaia grinned. “Thank you! That’s so cool.”
Emilio interrupted. “Uncle Davis, can I play a game on your computer?” He sat in Davis’s chair, swinging his long legs back and forth.
Davis nodded. “Knock yourself out, kid. I’m going to help your mom.”
“Really,” Gaia said, “I can do this myself.”
“I know you can, but you don’t have to. So stop arguing.”
She rolled her eyes as she headed out the door, Davis on her heels. “Fine. Then you can tell me about your friend Neema. How is she?”
Davis grinned, his smile pulling from ear to ear. “She’s good. I’ll see her later tonight.”
“I like her. Is it serious?”
“It’s...well...it’s still developing.”
“She likes you. You could see it all over her face.”
“I really like her, too, and I don’t want to mess it up. You know better than most that I can sabotage a relationship.”
“I wouldn’t say that. You were never ready for a serious relationship, and you were always up-front and honest about that. I wouldn’t call that sabotage. When it looked like it was getting serious, you just backed out and, usually, you did it nicely. Although there was that one time....” She grinned, her brow rising as she tossed him a look. “What was that girl’s name?”
Davis groaned. “Don’t remind me. Linda had some serious issues.”
“She didn’t want to let go. She was determined she was going to be Mrs. Davis Black.”
“I had to get a restraining order against her, it got so crazy,” he said, thinking back to the bombshell who’d made his life a living hell for months after he’d broken it off with her. They’d been introduced by a mutual friend, and for the first few weeks he’d enjoyed their time together. Then she’d started planning his future, wanting to dictate every aspect of his life. When he’d discovered she’d been deleting messages off his answering machine and trying earnestly to keep him from his family and friends, he’d dropped her. But despite his efforts to walk away, she’d hung on for dear life. The last he’d heard, she’d married an investment banker and now had three kids.
“I didn’t get that kind of vibe from Neema. But I told you from day one that Linda was not the one for you. I didn’t like her at all.”
“No one did. Even my mother didn’t like her, and my mother can find the good in everyone.”
“That’s why I love your mother so much.”
Davis changed the subject. “So, what’s going on with you? Dating anyone?”
“I am solely focused on my child and my career. I have no time for dating.”
“You know what they say about all work and no play.”
“I know what eviction notices, late payment notices and bills due look like. Playing can’t help me with that.
That’s one reason why I need this show to do well or I was going to have to give up this dream and stick to a regular nine-to-five job to keep supporting Emilio.”
“His father hasn’t helped?”
“His father has taken the definition of deadbeat to a whole other level. Emilio hasn’t even gotten one holiday card from that fool since he was born. As far as I’m concerned, his father is dead to us.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I expected more from Carl.”
“Carl isn’t the man you and I once knew and loved. His heart is as cold as ice as far as we’re concerned.”
Gaia passed him two of the four paintings, each carefully wrapped in brown paper and bubble wrap. She closed the door to her minivan. Clasping the other two in her hands, she led the way back into his office. Her son still sat where they’d left him, gone from playing a game to watching a cartoon on YouTube. He looked up and gave them both a slight wave as they entered the office.
“Just rest them here,” Davis said, leaning the artwork against the wall.
“I really do appreciate this,” Gaia said. “I can’t begin to tell you how much this means to me.”
“I’m glad I could be of help. If I can do more, I definitely will.”
Gaia hugged his neck. “You’ve always been good to me. There’s a special place in heaven for you, Davis Black.”
Davis chuckled. “Let’s just hope I have no use for it any time soon.”
* * *
Neema rang Davis’s doorbell promptly at seven o’clock. She’d arrived some thirty minutes earlier and had sat in her car watching the clock. She’d been a bundle of nerves, undercurrents of excitement coursing through her like little shimmers of fire building to a large flame.
As Davis pulled the door open, there was no denying that both were excited to see each other. Glee bubbled like a tidal wave between them, the wealth of it feeling combustible as Davis wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said as he finally released the hold he had on her. He stepped aside, bowing ever so slightly as his arm waved in a gallant gesture for her to enter.
Neema laughed. “Very nice,” she said as she took in the open space.
“I have to credit my mother and sisters for the décor. Before they took control, there was only a battered couch and a table I’d fashioned out of an old tire and a piece of plywood.”
“I’m sure that was cute.”
“It was college-dorm-room fancy,” Davis said with a chuckle.
“It sounds like it. I’m sorry I missed that!”
“You really didn’t miss much.”
They laughed heartily, any ounce of tension dissipating.
Neema moved further into the foyer and then came to an abrupt halt. Davis’s dog sat obediently, eyeing her cautiously. He looked even larger and more intimidating than Neema remembered.
“Hi there,” she said, tossing the animal a wave of her hand. “Aren’t you a big boy!”
Titus cocked his head to the side, his ears perking up as he continued to assess her.
“You’re not afraid of dogs, are you?” Davis asked.
Neema shook her head. “Not usually, but then it’s not often I’m around a dog as large as that one.”
Davis chuckled. “This is Titus. He’s nothing but a big teddy bear. Just extend the back of your hand and let him smell you. Once he knows your scent, he’ll probably ignore you.”
She nodded as Davis called the dog to his side.
Titus came eagerly, his stubbed tail wiggling from side to side. Neema smiled as she extended her hand and let him sniff. When he nuzzled his nose into the palm of her hand, she moved to rub the top of his head.
“He likes you,” Davis said, exhaling a sigh of relief at the exchange.
“He’s beautiful.” Neema knelt to hug the dog’s neck. “How long have you had him?”
“Nine years. My sisters gifted him to me for my twenty-first birthday. He was tiny back then.”
“He’s very sweet,” Neema said, standing.
“Titus. Bed,” Davis commanded, pointing to the back of the home.
The dog hesitated for just a second then turned, disappearing down the hallway.
“Please,” Davis insisted, “have a seat and make yourself comfortable. Dinner’s almost ready. Would you like a glass of wine?”
“I think I’ll pass for now. Is there anything I can do to help?” Neema asked.
“Just talk to me while I get the food on the table.”
Neema rested her purse on an end table and followed him into his kitchen. The room was a chef’s dream with stainless-steel appliances, white cabinets and marble counters. Something simmered in a saucepan on the stovetop and he’d set his dining room table with two place settings. She was duly impressed as he moved easily around the kitchen, seeming comfortable in the space. She moved to the counter and took a seat on one of the stools as Davis washed his hands.
“Something smells really good! What are we eating?”
“Well, I thought we’d start with a warm kale salad with bacon, dates, almonds, crispy shallots and grated parmesan. For the entrée, I’ll be serving pan-seared scallops with a bacon cream sauce and mushroom risotto. And for dessert, I made my famous sticky toffee pudding with molasses sauce.”
Neema was wide-eyed as she stared at him in awe. “I think I just gained ten pounds,” she said jokingly.
“You didn’t believe me when I told you I was going to prepare a feast.”
“I didn’t know you were that skilled a cook.”
“I can burn in the kitchen!”
“So, I see.”
“Just wait until you taste it. The pudding is melt-in-your-mouth perfection. And I made extra in case you want a second helping. Because I know you’ll want seconds!”
She pointed. “No, I mean I see you can burn...something’s smoking in your oven.”
“My croutons!” Davis cussed as he rushed to the appliance and snatched open the door. He grabbed an insulated mitt from the counter and pulled a baking pan from inside. Small cubes of black ash smoldered, the rank scent of burned garlic rising in the room. He dropped the pan into the sink and turned on the cold water. A low hissing sound followed by steam billowed upward. Davis turned toward Neema, his face a crimson shade of red. “This is not what I meant when I said I could burn.”
Neema laughed. “I’m sure it tastes better than it looks,” she said.
Davis shook his head. “Now you’re just being mean!”
Minutes later, they sat at the dining room table, Davis having served the first course of what would prove to be one of the best meals Neema had ever eaten. Despite the mishap with the first batch of garlic-infused croutons, the second toasting proved to be on point. The salad could easily have been a meal all on its own. The scallops were fork tender, surrounded by a sauce that made Neema want to lick her plate. The dessert was heaven in a bowl. Davis had outdone himself.
The conversation was engaging, the two catching up with each other’s lives. More than once Neema thought about telling him about her job at the newspaper, but when she couldn’t find the right segue into the subject, she changed her mind. Instead, she talked about her parents, the last book she’d read, the changing state of politics, and why women in relationships needed to maintain a degree of autonomy from their partners.
“I’m not one of those women that does matching his and her T-shirts. It rings false to me. Like a couple is trying too hard to be a couple.”
Davis shrugged. “I’d do it if it made my partner happy, but no, I’m not going out of my way to coordinate our outfits. However, I do think that when two people have been together for some time, that coordination happens naturally. My parents are notorious for wearing the same color when they go out, and it happens without them trying.”
“See,
that I can understand, but if you’re spending weeks searching for the same his and her leopard-print shirt to wear to date night—” she shook her head “—then something’s not right.”
“To each his own. What works for some might not work for others.”
“I agree.”
“So, tell me...” Davis started, pausing to take a sip of his wine before continuing. “What are your expectations when it comes to a man and relationships?”
“Interesting question,” Neema said as she sat back in her seat. She took a deep breath, holding it for a split second before letting it out slowly. “I expect kindness and respect. I want to be in a relationship with a man who is genuinely compassionate toward others. Who isn’t self-centered, and who supports me. I also want to be romanced. And I want affection. I think emotional intimacy is as equally important as physical intimacy. It’s also important that any man I’m committed to has a vision for his future that aligns with my own.”
“And what’s your vision?”
“I want a family. Children. At least two, maybe three. I also want to be in a partnership where my opinion is equally as important as his, even if he feels that as head of the family, he should take the lead.”
“Having a big family... I’ve always imagined myself with a big family.” Davis gave her a soft smile, the wealth of it shimmering in his eyes. “I want children. At least three. And I agree that a relationship should also be a partnership. I also think that honesty and trust are important. I would find it very difficult to be with a woman I can’t trust.”
Neema nodded, her gaze dropping to her plate as she gave him a quick smile. A knot tightened in the pit of her stomach and a little voice screamed in her head. Tell him! She closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them to stare up at him.
Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2021 Page 80