He signed, “Why does my heart look so down?”
“Are you high?” she signed back.
“Nah, just pleasantly tipsy.” He pulled her into a hug. The faint scent of bourbon enveloped her. “I’d invite you in, but I doubt you’d come. Even if it was to see my photography. I was just in my zone. Needed a quick break, saw you sitting in the car like you’ve been there a while.”
Almost an hour to be precise. “I was thinking about it.”
“I see. Maybe you should come in. Put pen to paper or better yet, tap those keys.”
“I could use some money.”
“Blasphemy!”
She frowned at him.
He chuckled. “That’s mom’s favorite word. Your dad is the bank, Avery.”
“So why are you here?” She changed the subject.
Feigning paranoid, he glanced back toward the house and then rubbed his index finger over his thin mustache. “Between me and you, sis, a brother is already making moves. I took off from—”
Smack.
His neck jerked. He glared at her. “Damn, I’m not Donavan. You can’t be slapping the taste from my mouth! See my gum?”
He pointed to a wad of minty fresh gum on the ground. She folded her arms and asked, “You took off from school? You already changed your major without telling Dad!”
This time he used his hands to sign. “If I answer, will you pop me again?”
“I just might.”
“So, let me change the subject like you just did. If you need money, create a few scores. We can definitely get you into the studio of a friend of mine or talk to Michelle, your old—”
“It’s LaChelle, Antonio, and you know he never liked when you called.”
“Fake ass French accent.”
She chuckled. “Doesn’t matter.”
“I guess he did push around money when it came down to it. Create another album. Or I’m sure you can get a rapper or an R&B singer or do something of your own, fresh. There are people that still listen to music without words.”
She started to grab the door handle of her car.
His arm hooked around her shoulder and pulled her away from it. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ve given Mom the cold shoulder this entire time for you. But something tells me you didn’t come by to see me.”
“I’m leaving Antonio. We’re having a big dinner tonight for everyone at Baudelaire. You should come.”
“What about Shirley Temple?”
“First, Carly is too old for you. Two, she’s not rocking Shirley Temple anymore. But come. We actually are having Jess and Ted over. They haven’t been by since last month. Well, Ted did when he finally picked up Maggie. But Jess has been having a really rough time recuperating.”
“Oh . . . when she forgot how to act like a lady?”
“Damn, Antonio, really? I think she and I want the same thing for Donavan Junior. It’s just a complicated mess that your mother has put us in.”
“Yo’ mom.”
“Whatever. Come. I could use some support because she likes to accuse me of stealing my son from her.” Avery took a deep breath and realized she’d been a bit snippy in her statement. “Sheesh, I am saying one thing but thinking another. I know that Junior still wants them in his life, and it’s been a hard road respecting that to the fullest extent.”
He embraced her in a hug, patting her back. Antonio stepped back. When his hand went to pat the top of her head too, Avery slapped him.
“What? I’m doing my brotherly duty.”
“Come tonight, alright. That’ll be all I need.”
25
Donavan
This morning, he’d left without a single word to Avery. When he dragged himself out of bed, he’d been aware that she was awake as well. Awake and staring at the fucking wall, too stubborn to say something, and Donavan hadn’t felt like caving in.
The cold mist clung to his skin as he walked to the door of Flap & Jacks, a family owned eatery specializing in all things breakfast in a cabin with its own lake view. It was the kind of scenery that Avery would love, and yet he was meeting another Castle here.
Inside the cabin, it had been fully gutted. There were tables with white linen cloths that appealed to the snooty bastards like Alexander Castle. But the locals didn’t shy away from the flapjacks that were stacked almost a mile high.
Alexander sat at a table for two next to the floor to ceiling window, a picturesque view of the crystal blue water and a plethora of Cyprus trees jutted up behind them. His nose was deep in a newspaper, legs crossed at the knee.
Donavan grunted a hello and pulled out the chair opposite him.
“Don’t sit.”
“Okay . . .”
In a fluid motion, Alexander stood, brushing imaginary lent from his suit. He pulled out his wallet and dropped more than enough money on the table for a meal.
“Sweetheart,” he called to the waitress. “For my associates’ dining experience, sit them outside. They’ve got a few things to hash out, and if things get ugly, you have my apologies already.”
The redhead smiled. “It might rain . . .”
“Then that’ll cool them off.”
“Them—who are you referring to, Alex?” Donavan spoke up, though he felt daggers piercing his spine. Alexander nudged his chin, and Donavan turned around to see Tripp standing at the door. His stocky build tensed with a rage that wasn’t about to die out anytime soon.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Donavan asked.
“Not around the ladies.” Alexander moved away from the table. “You agreed to join the team. I’ve already stated that you’ll have the easiest assignments—I am a man of my word. Nevertheless, the two of you have to come to some sort of agreement because, regardless of your mission, I need your head in the game, and quite frankly, Tripp isn’t doing much better either.”
“Then why spring this on me? From the looks of it, him as well.” Donavan was not in the right mental frame of mind for this. Hell, shit was already hitting the fan when it came to the woman who owned his heart. There’d been no making amends this morning, so it seemed clear that today wasn’t about to transition for the better.
Ten minutes later, Donavan sat across from Tripp on the wood balcony outside. The tables surrounding them were covered in blue tarps. Smoke rose from two mugs of coffee, but Donavan didn’t feel the crisp chill that had surrounded him while walking into Flap & Jacks.
It was as if he’d gone deaf when the waitress tilted her face toward his, offering a smile. “Do you need another moment as well?”
Blinking a few times, Donavan readjusted in his seat. “Thank you, ma’am. Just coffee is good enough for me.”
“Alright, boys, Mr. Castle dropped enough money for the two of you to have a feast for the next year. But, for now, I’ll leave the two of you to your coffee.” She began to back up, turned on the heels of her Toms and strutted away.
“I am sorry.” Donavan enunciated every word.
Tripp’s puffy thumb trailed along the rippled skin at side of his face. “Oh, for this? No need. My girl says my burns make me look distinguished. Bloody fucking distinguished. She’s got the cutest Brit accent.”
Though Donavan was seated, he leaned forward, hands on the chair, ready to fight if Tripp so much as gave the impression that he was going to strike. This wasn’t the Tripp that lunged at him in Alexander’s office, nor was this version the one he once knew. Granted, sharks always had something to say, it seemed that Donavan and Tripp were pretty much past the point of idle conversation.
“Have you seen Brown, Trayvon or . . .” Donavan paused to gulp down the constriction in his voice. “McIntosh?”
“McIntosh? The two of you were twins. But he’s McIntosh now, I see?”
“Have you?” Donavan’s voice hardened.
“Hard no on Hunter. Last I heard, he made a living panhandling. He has one leg, though he’s always getting around. Brown is still active. Tray is a deacon in some deep south church, spouting off wo
rds of encouragement, shit like that. He tried to convert me, Jesus cult stuff, but I still love ‘em.”
For a single second, Donavan almost felt himself smiling. Of all the sharks, Tripp was the only one who hadn’t believed in a higher power. While everyone else was gripping a cross pendant or mentally spouting off prayers with insurgents surrounding them, Tripp just had his hand on the trigger waiting for the “okay.”
“Listen, Hardy, I ain’t ever gonna’ forgive you. You got that?”
Donavan nodded.
“You stay in your lane. I’mma stay in mine.” He held out his hand.
They shook on it. Donavan’s eyes burned. “Trip, I’m gonna say this—and then I agree. We would’ve laid down our lives for each other, brother. I still will. I still will.”
“Yeah, well, hells bells, Hardy. I never took you for a pussy. Hunter, yeah. You, no.” He sniggered. “I don’t need you trying to act all honorable like a man of valor now. If I’m on my way out, and I know you’re one of those believers too—let me be. My white ass may or may not burn in hell one day.”
They started into the restaurant, the waitress’s blue eyes baffled. Licking her lips in trepidation, she apologized, “I’m sorry, I was going to check on you—”
“Ma’am, thank you. But we won’t be needing nothing else,” Tripp said.
Donavan offered a nod as they headed out front.
“Ain’t this ‘bout a bitch.” Tripp snapped his finger, stopping in his tracks before his Dodge Ram. “The butler is here, and I can pretty much guess why.”
Green held up a single envelope.
Donavan cocked an eyebrow until it slowly sunk in that the gig was for the both of them.
Tripp moved right on along.
“Tripp, I advise you not to keep on walking.” Green didn’t even turn around as he spoke. “This is the last assignment you will have available to you if it isn’t completed by the both of you.”
“What?” Tripp wrenched the cap from atop his head. “I need this motherfucking job, Green.”
“So, Donavan, you did not complete but instead returned the last envelope unopened. I’m sure the boss will give you more chances. However, Donavan, Trip, you both can open the seal together. Or you can take it. Castle said it’s your call—if you decide Tripp should keep working with Vitality.” Green finally moved around to glance at Tripp. “This redneck can join the rest of his people on welfare.”
Tripp headed toward him. Donavan blocked him. Though he couldn’t believe Tripp was racist, he bet the bastard would probably say anything to Green.
“You touch me!” Tripp shouted at his old brother. “I’ll lay your ass out next to him.”
“Well shark, it’s you and me or nothing.”
“Seems to me like Castle is kissing your ass,” Tripp huffed. “That girl I mentioned earlier, we’re saving up for a house, asshole! So thanks!”
Donavan stepped closer. “You know I had nothing to do with this. Let’s just do the stupid assignment then we part ways. We both have a job. Got that?”
In a fraction of a second, Donavan’s palm felt like fire as he caught Tripp’s left fist. With his right hand, Donavan pressed his chest until Tripp shuffled back on his boots.
“Fuck all of you. I’m out of here.”
“Just one job, Trip,” Donavan gritted out. “Don’t be stupid. You’re better than this.”
Tripp stepped forward again. Donavan was unwavering. In a low voice he growled, “I used to tell you that shit, Donavan. I used to be the one giving pep talks to my crew! Telling you all that we keep our eyes peeled, that we work together, that we go home!”
With an about face, Tripp stalked off toward his truck. He slammed the door so hard that the driver side window cracked.
“You keep looking at that dude like you expect someone else, Hardy,” Green said holding out the envelope. “I doubt he’s the same dude you used to know. Now, I hope you don’t hand this envelope back to me until it’s complete. This one has a two-week timeframe.”
* * *
It was noon. The sun hardly pierced through the chill of the day by the time Donavan returned home. Between the three of them, Donavan, Avery, and Carly, there was an unwritten rule. Carly had taken over breakfast with her world-famous pastries while she and Avery shared lobby duty. The girls were people-people. Donavan, on the other hand, wrangled the yard. The Baudelaire plantation had enough acreage for yardwork to be considered a full-time job. He also maintained the place. And with Avery growing up with the finer things in life while he didn’t, he made a good book keeper. He had a quick wit when it came to numbers—not people—and he knew how to tell Avery to chill out from her next great, costly idea for the B&B. Though he craved fulfilling her every desire, Donavan hoped he was there to help Avery out with the house when she needed it the most.
The envelope folded in the pocket of his leather jacket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. The contents had the means of fulfilling Avery’s every desire for her grandmother’s dream. For the past week, he knew he hadn’t been there much for the bed and breakfast. Aside from being the gardener. He gave a wry chuckle at what Alexander had called him. Truth be told, none of his fiancée’s father’s words had penetrated. Nothing hurt like the fact that he wasn’t being quite the man, quite the breadwinner, when it came to taking care of his family.
Since the money had begun to dwindle, Donavan had wondered if his own blood had given him up for this very reason. After all, he had a deadbeat dad somewhere around the world. Right?
A super tiny, beige car, the kind that only had front seats, pulled up beside him. Donavan forced himself to place a smile on his face then he saw the scenario with Tripp replaying in his head, again. Tripp needed to stop being a fucking idiot and take the assignment because, hell, even he knew how hard it was to get a job these days.
The door of the small car opened, and out of it came a man with wide arms and beefy limbs that appeared to be stiff by the way he was stretching. Donavan was just about to welcome him to the B&B, trying to recall who was checking in today, since Avery was so good at it, but he hadn’t even glanced at the agenda. Instead, he looked the man up and down, wondering why he would be driving such a small thing.
“It was the only rental available.” The man mumbled, shoving a hand through his chocolate brown hair and turning away.
“Oh, in that case, you’ll be extra pleased with the bedrooms.” Donavan shrugged, feeling like an idiot. He had yet to fine-tune the magical craft of being a people person.
“I’m not . . .” The man glanced around as if looking for something. “I’m not staying here. I was looking for someone.”
“I’d have to ask my wife if we can divulge customer information.”
The guy finally glanced over at him then really looked up. Donavan noted his eyes darkening from gray to a coal black.
“Do I know you?” Donavan’s gaze narrowed. Something about him, Donavan couldn’t put a finger on it, was too familiar.
“Ah, I have one of those faces,” the man said, offering a tensed chuckle and casting his gaze down.
“I think I do . . .”
“No, ya don’t. Um . . .”
“Hey,” Avery called out, descending the porch steps.
Donavan glanced her way. However, out of his peripheral, Donavan saw the guy fold his body back into the car. He turned to say something to the man, but with such a quiet engine, Donavan hadn’t heard it crank. He jumped back as the tiny car reversed, zipping away, heading off down the road.
“What are you doing?” Avery’s expression soured with anger.
“What?” Donavan glared at her now, still in shock. The entire scenario was too bizarre for him.
“Did you just scare that man off? I started outside because you were sizing him up. Then I think, If I read your lips correctly, that you made out like he was in some opposing gang?”
“Avery, don’t start.”
“Well, did you?”
He glanced down th
e road as the tan car glided over the bridge. The damn thing looked like a toy. “I was trying to be polite, but I thought I knew him.”
“Okay, so maybe start with a smile or something.”
“Like men really walk around smiling at each other and—”
“Oh, shit,” she snickered in surprise. “Have we been transported back to circa 2000 when you mean-mugged every motherfucker in sight? Huh?”
He stalked past her, not ready for her attitude.
“Sorry, Donavan, only I can walk away and not be listening. You don’t have the luxuries that I do!” She was at his heels, barking every word. When Donavan didn’t respond, her tone changed, becoming serious. “Hey! We have a business to run. You can’t run off. And your son, your only son, has gotten into this habit that only you can take him to school, Donnie.”
Her voice broke. He turned around hastily, startling her, but she stood her ground. When his arms wrapped around her waist, the tension in her shoulders crashed. He clung to her, allowing the entire day to wash out.
The inability for him to say those stupid fucking words that meant everything in the world to her–Sorry.
The inability to reason with Tripp that he hadn’t meant to ruin his life or Hunter’s for that matter.
The inability to get it through Tripp’s numb skull that they could be a team for one single assignment or more. God only knew how much they both needed the money.
He held her tightly, hoping to the Good Lord above that he wasn’t crushing her. With her heart beating wildly against his, Donavan clutched at Avery’s hair, he tipped her mouth and kissed her.
Their tongues twined around and explored each other’s mouths in a fire that wouldn’t go out, regardless of how angry they became with each other.
When he let go, she whimpered. Donavan tried on that smile she’d just begged him to use as a lesbian couple walked out of the house. “How are y’all on this fine day?”
“Great.” The first woman said, smiling.
Make Me Stay II: A Second Chance Romance Page 14