Valentine's Fantasy: When Valentines CollideTo Love Again

by Adrianne Byrd

  Alana brightened. “I adore you.”

  Nico responded by softly kissing her lips. When the kiss ended, Alana dreamily gazed up into his eyes. Then she felt a draft. Laughing nervously, she firmly grasped him by the shoulders. “Don’t move.” The towel hung loose between them. Any sudden movement on his part and she’d be standing before him in all her glory. She reached down for the towel and re-wrapped it around her body. “Okay, you can move now.”

  Nico gave her an enigmatic grin. “I don’t think I want to go just yet. You’ve just said you adore me. If we stand here a while longer maybe you’ll admit that you’re in love with me.”

  Alana lay her head on his chest and smiled contentedly.

  Soon, she thought.

  Chapter 6

  Nico waited patiently outside of apartment 306 of the Royal Arms Apartments in Oakland. The group of buildings were government subsidy housing, with a difference: the residents had taken it upon themselves to maintain their homes in a decent, respectable manner instead of relying upon bureaucrats to run things. Therefore the grounds were manicured, the walls and hallways were clean and free of graffiti, and there were no drug dealers hanging on corners plying their goods anywhere in the vicinity of the Royal Arms.

  Nico had read in the papers that the neighborhood had had some assistance from Muslims in keeping the criminal element out of their complex—a fact that made certain politicians unhappy, but then they didn’t live in the Royal Arms. The residents had welcomed any help they could get since, in their opinion, the authorities weren’t doing an adequate job.

  The door remained closed; however, a gruff female voice called, “Who’s there?”

  Nico calmly placed his badge in front of the peephole. “My name is Nicolas Setera. I’m a detective with the San Francisco Police Department.”

  “Badges don’t mean nothin’ round here,” the woman said through the door. “What else you got?”

  Nico wasn’t in the least perturbed by the woman’s cautious attitude. It was a dangerous world, and nowadays being a cop didn’t garner the trust in your average citizens’ minds and hearts the way it used to.

  He gave her the number of the police operator. “Call that number,” he suggested. “And ask them to describe me, then if you still don’t want to talk with me, I’ll gladly leave.”

  The woman was away from the door for five minutes as Nico stood on the front stoop, observing the activities of her neighbors. Children were playing on the lawn, a man half-heartedly washed his car two doors down. A teenaged couple was apparently walking home from school together—they both had backpacks slung over their shoulders as they held hands.

  Hearing the door being unlocked, Nico returned his attention to apartment 306. A plump, middle-aged woman, a smile on her round, dark brown face ushered him in. “Okay,” she said lightly. “You check out.”

  Nico stepped into a neat, modest living room. A toddler was sitting in the middle of the room in front of a television set, watching “Sesame Street.” The little boy looked up, saw Nico, grinned, and said, “Hi!”

  “Hello,” Nico said, smiling.

  “Pay attention to the Count,” the woman admonished the boy. “You need to learn your numbers.”

  She looked expectantly at Nico. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

  Nico was still focused on the child. He reluctantly looked away from the tyke and gave the woman his undivided attention.

  “Mrs.—”

  “It’s Miss. Geraldine Robinson. Won’t you have a seat, Detective?” She continued to eye him suspiciously.

  Nico sat on a multifloral armchair, and Geraldine sat across from him on the matching couch.

  “Do you recall hearing about the murder of a San Francisco police officer in this neighborhood about a year ago?”

  Geraldine Robinson sat with her back stiff, her brown eyes never leaving Nico’s face.

  “Yes, I do remember when that happened. What a shame. A nice young family man like that,” she said in mock sympathy.

  Nico heard the note of sarcasm in her voice and it made him wonder if Geraldine Robinson knew more than she was letting on. His eyes narrowed. “That officer was my partner, Miss Robinson,” he said sharply. He watched her face.

  Geraldine flinched noticeably. “What exactly do you want from me, Detective—”

  “Setera,” Nico supplied.

  “I’m a busy woman,” Geraldine said defensively. “I was in the middle of preparing dinner when you rang my bell.”

  It occurred to Nico that she was protecting someone. “Did you, or anyone else living here know Michael Calloway?”

  Geraldine sighed. All she wanted was to get this police officer out of her house. “No, Detective. No one living here knew Michael Calloway.”

  Geraldine rose. “I’ll show you to the door, Detective. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you.”

  Suddenly, she froze, a horrified expression on her face. From across the room came the sound of a key being inserted into the front door lock. Geraldine glanced up at the clock on the living room wall. Not now, she thought frantically.

  “Momma!” Karen called as she walked through the door, her arms filled with packages. “Michael!”

  Karen spotted her mother standing, like a mannequin, in the center of the room, her mouth open in shock.

  “Momma, what’s wrong?” she asked as she approached her. “Mr. Prentice had to go out of town for a couple of days, so he told me to take the afternoon off...”

  As she passed the étagère, she saw Nico. Her eyes were panicked as they searched the room for Michael, who had gone into his bedroom to get his stuffed Big Bird. “Michael, Michael, come to Mama, baby!”

  Sensing her mother’s level of anxiety, Karen was almost beside herself with worry for her son. She ran from the room calling to him.

  Nico was on his feet, following her. “Miss Robinson? Nothing has happened to your son, believe me. I’m a cop. I’m not here to cause you or your family any harm.”

  By the time Nico got midway down the hall, Karen was returning with Michael in her arms. The packages she’d been carrying were strewn down the hallway. Nico had to step around them to reach her.

  “Miss Robinson, there’s no need for you to be upset. I just want to ask you a few questions about Michael Calloway.”

  Standing in the hallway, Karen regarded him with angry eyes. She covered her son’s right ear with her left hand. “Why are you questioning us about him?” she asked belligerently. She turned and continuing walking until she’d reached the living room where she sat on the couch, still cradling Michael in her arms. Geraldine had gone into the kitchen to resume dinner preparations, but her ears were strained to hear anything going on in the living room.

  “Who are you?” Karen asked, her tone wary.

  Nico introduced himself and produced his badge and picture ID. Karen perused them then met his gaze once more.

  “Why are you asking questions about Michael?”

  “He was my partner,” Nico replied. He sat down next to her on the couch, turning toward her. “The thing is, his widow wants to know why he was found in this neighborhood. He wasn’t on duty that night, and he’d told her he was going to be elsewhere. You understand?”

  “Yes, I understand,” Karen said as she rocked Michael in her arms. She looked down into Michael’s upturned face. “Would you go into the kitchen with Grandma, sweetie? Ask her to give you a cookie and some milk.”

  Michael climbed out of his mother’s lap and did as he was told.

  “He seems like a great kid,” Nico complimented her.

  Karen smiled. “He is a great kid.” Their eyes met and held. “How well did you know Michael?”

  “Not as well as I thought I did,” Nico said cautiously. “Although, we were best friends for a number of years.”

  “For months after he died, I expected someone to come here asking all sorts of questions. When no one did, I figured Michael had done a good job of keeping us a secret
.”

  Nico sat back as well. He wasn’t going to push her. Karen seemed to want to talk. It was as if she’d been waiting for the moment when she could talk to someone about Michael. He was grateful he was that someone.

  She laughed self-consciously. “I didn’t know he was married until after I read his obituary. I’d known him for three years. I read in the papers that he’d been married for only two. I often wonder which of us he met first and why he chose her to marry over me. Can you answer that?”

  “No,” Nico said softly. He didn’t know what he’d expected to find in Michael’s mistress. Someone cold and detached? This woman was neither of those. She appeared intelligent, and from everything he’d observed since stepping into apartment 306, he judged her to be an honest, hard working young mother trying to build a better life for her son.

  “I can’t tell you why Michael did what he did,” he told her honestly. “All I can tell you is that you came as a surprise to his wife. That’s why I’m here. She sent me to act as a sort of intermediary between you two.”

  “So Alana has just found out about us?” Karen asked, her eyes a little sad.

  “You know her name?” Nico said, astonished.

  “I was at the memorial service. I heard the minister call her name. That was you next to her throughout the service?”

  Nico nodded. “Yeah, that was me.”

  “You care about her,” Karen said matter of factly.

  “Very much,” Nico admitted freely.

  “That’s good,” Karen said. “At least she has someone to help her get over that creep.”

  “She wants to meet you,” Nico told her, watching her face for a surprised reaction.

  Karen merely frowned. “I don’t know,” she said in a low voice. “What if she wants to pull my hair out?”

  “Alana’s not that kind of person,” Nico said reassuringly. “She says she wants to meet you so that she can finally purge him from her system. Maybe you can help each other. From your comments about him, it doesn’t seem as though you’re completely over him yourself.”

  “Oh, I’ve been through all the stages of grief,” Karen told him. “At first, I was in denial. Then I blamed myself. Now I’m putting the blame where it should be, on Michael.”

  “Then you’re a little farther along than Alana is,” Nico said. “She lived with the hope that she’d been mistaken about his infidelity for over a year. Now she knows he was cheating on her and is experiencing feelings of inadequacy. She thinks that if she’d been a better wife, Michael would not have strayed...”

  “That isn’t true,” Karen said forcefully.

  “I know it isn’t true,” Nico said, looking her in the eyes. “Maybe you can convince her.”

  “All right,” Karen said, having made up her mind. “I’ll meet with Alana. When?”

  Nico reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the hand-written note Alana had given him to give to Karen if she proved to be amenable to their meeting.

  Karen tore it open and read:

  It’s not my intention to disrupt your life, Karen. And if you choose not to meet me at Le Petite Café tomorrow afternoon at one-thirty, I’ll respect your wishes and not try to contact you again. But if you do decide to come, know this: I don’t hold any grudges against you. I won’t judge you. I won’t seek revenge for wrongs done me, either verbally or physically. I simply want to talk to you.

  Alana Shelby Calloway

  Karen knew Le Petite Café, she’d been there for lunch on a number of occasions. The restaurant was always crowded at around one. So there would be plenty of witnesses if Alana Calloway decided to attack her. She’d feel relatively safe in that environment.

  “Okay,” she told Nico momentarily. “Tell her I’ll be there.”

  * * *

  “That’s it,” Alana said as she concluded Thursday morning’s staff meeting. “I officially declare that all major preparations are complete, and I’m giving you all the rest of the day off. Thank you for a job well done.”

  Clovis raised his hand to get her attention.

  “Yes, Clovis?”

  “Alana, about your suggestion that we join the party after the buffet has been set up. Were you serious?”

  Alana smiled at him affectionately and glanced at the rest of her crew scattered about the kitchen.

  “Of course I was serious. Margery has contracted with another service to provide waiters and waitresses. You guys worked hard to prepare all the food, you deserve to get out there and enjoy yourselves. So, please, wear your best party outfits and bring a loved one. It’s Valentine’s Day!”

  “I’ll definitely be there,” Gina put in, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’d never turn down the opportunity to rub elbows with the rich and famous. Maria told me Whoopi is coming. I love her. I’ve seen all her movies.”

  “There, you see?” Alana said, hoping Gina’s enthusiasm was catching. “Come and have a good time.”

  “I’d feel out of place,” Clovis maintained. “I’m just a cook.”

  Alana stepped forward and grasped one of Clovis’s big, dark hands in both her hands. Looking into his eyes, she said, “Don’t you ever let me hear you deride your profession again.” She smiled. “Ours is an honorable calling. Everybody has to eat, and few people have your talent for making food appetizing. So never say, ‘I’m just a cook,’ say instead, ‘I’m the best damn cook on the planet,’ then you’d be closer to the truth.”

  The gentle giant smiled benignly. “You always have a good comeback prepared, don’t you, Alana?”

  “That’s my job,” Alana said. “I’m the coach, you’re the team. I have to keep my team fired up.” She looked around the room. “Any more dissenters?”

  There was a general consensus that everyone would be attending the ball. “Very good,” Alana said finally. “Then go home and get some rest, you’re going to need it tomorrow.”

  After everyone else had gone for the day, Alana made one last round, making certain everything was put away properly; then she gathered her belongings and left the kitchen. She needed to go home and work on Vesta’s books. She’d named the company after the Roman goddess of the hearth, since the hearth in the past was the center of the home. She’d vowed that her company would reflect good, wholesome qualities. Vesta would always produce nutritious, delectable food for a fair price, and she would treat her employees like family.

  Her cellular phone rang as she began ascending the stairs in search of Margery and the others. She knew that Georgie and Bree, along with the two Pierres, were gone to Fisherman’s Wharf to purchase crabs. Bree wanted to have a crab boil tonight. But Margery, Toni and Daniel, Margery’s contrite ex-husband who’d arrived shortly after Bree and Pierre, were somewhere in the house.

  “How’s everything going?” Nico asked, his voice husky.

  “Everything’s going so well, I just let everyone go home for the day,” Alana answered, smiling. She paused on the stairs and leaned against the wall. “How are things with you? Did you catch up with the infamous other woman?”

  Nico laughed on his end. “Karen Robinson isn’t your run-of-the-mill home wrecker. She seems...nice.”

  “Nice?”

  “She claims she didn’t know Michael was married until she read it in the papers.”

  Alana considered that and said, “You’re a good judge of character. Do you believe her?”

  There was silence for several seconds as Nico weighed his response. He didn’t want to be precipitous. Plus, there was the matter of Michael’s child. Should he tell her or wait for Karen to do so? “Is there any way we can get together sometime today?” he asked quietly. “I had the early shift so I’m no longer on duty. Besides, I’d like to see you.”

  Hearing the concern in his voice, Alana felt butterflies forming in the pit of her stomach. What could be so important he couldn’t tell her about it over the phone?

  “Sure. I’m leaving Margery’s in a few minutes. I have to go home and work on the books. T
omorrow’s payday.”

  “I’ll meet you there in a half hour,” Nico said.

  After they’d hung up, Alana ran the rest of the way upstairs and went to Margery’s study, which was adjacent to her bedroom. As she’d guessed, Margery, Toni and Daniel were in the book-lined room talking about old times. They looked up when she entered the room.

  “I just came up to say goodbye,” Alana said. “Nico’s meeting me at my place in a few minutes...”

  “Has he had any luck?” Margery wanted to know.

  “He found her,” Alana announced. She didn’t know why, but she felt relieved by the thought. If everything went as she hoped, Michael’s ghost would be exorcised by Valentine’s Day. “Her name’s Karen Robinson, but that’s all I know so far. I’ll keep you posted.”

  Margery and Toni had crossed the room to wrap their arms around Alana in a group hug.

  “It’s almost over now, my love,” Margery cooed as if to a small child.

  “When it’s done, you’ll be the stronger for it,” Toni predicted. “You will have gone through the fire and survived.” She planted a motherly kiss on Alana’s forehead. “I’m proud of you for pursuing the matter. It shows a strength of character I’ve always known you possessed.”

  “Yes,” Margery agreed.

  She and Toni glanced at one another, and after a silent form of agreement between them, she continued. “Now, my love, there is something your aunt Toni and I must confess.”

  Alana looked expectantly at her aunts. Guilt was plainly evident on both their dear faces. She frowned. It was all coming together for her. The suspicious manner in which Margery and Toni had been behaving recently. The knowing looks. Their apparent relief that she and Nico had reconciled.

  Nico had not raised the subject of Karen Robinson being the culprit behind the note. Then that left only...”I don’t believe it. You two sent that note, didn’t you?”

  “Only because you were pining away for a man who clearly did not deserve you,” Margery said quickly. “We tried everything to make you snap out of your depression. But you refused to listen to reason...”