Just Like Yesterday

by Brenda Barrett

  "Well, technically we, er..." Hazel stumbled. What on earth was she to say without giving a convoluted explanation of her past and her memory and the adoption and all of that?

  Nadine took pity on her and gave her a smile. "So see you around then. Jacob's birthday party is in late November. I hope you'll come with Curtis."

  "Yes, sure." Hazel nodded.

  She headed inside feeling slightly stupid. She did not have to explain her situation to everyone. She should just allow people to think what they wanted but it was nice to hear Nadine referring to Curtis as her husband. She had indulged in a fantasy or two that they were actually a family.

  As soon as she pushed the door open she realized that Nadine was not exaggerating; the place was empty except for some boxes and construction paraphernalia that were still strewn about.

  "Sorry about this, Hazel," Curtis said from the top of a winding glass and steel staircase. "We are in the process of getting this place cleaned up."

  "How can I help?" Hazel struggled to keep her eyes on his face. Was it possible that he was getting more handsome by the day? Smooth bronze skin, those down-turned hooded eyes and that strong column of neck with a vivid red mark shaped like a heart.

  His polo shirt must have covered it before; that's why she didn't see it at the airport yesterday.

  Curtis walked toward her; he was dressed in snug blue jeans and a red muscle shirt that showed off well-toned biceps, but her eyes kept straying toward the mark on his neck.

  "The interior decorators will be here tomorrow." He paused in front of her. "So we will be fine in three or so days. Thank you for offering, though."

  Hazel nodded. "Yes, er, well..."

  "Want me to show you around?" Curtis asked.

  Hazel nodded absently. "Yes, sure."

  "Something wrong?" Curtis asked, looking at her appreciatively.

  She couldn't miss the appreciation in his eyes. After all, she had spent most of the two and a half hours before she got here at the hair dresser’s and then in her closet, choosing the best demure yet sexy dress that she could find. She knew she looked good.

  "No, not really." Hazel cleared her throat. "Not a thing wrong at all." Except for that hickey on your neck.

  "You were staring at me as if you saw a ghost." Curtis looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

  "No, it's just your hickey," Hazel said hesitantly. "I was under the impression that you were not involved with anybody."

  Curtis chuckled and then he laughed with gusto. His laugh echoed in the empty space.

  "Okay then," Hazel frowned. "I didn't know it was so funny."

  "No. It's not." Curtis sobered up. "I am sorry for laughing. The hickey," he put his hand over the mark, "is a birthmark, kind of heart shaped. I have it on my neck; my dad has it behind his knee. All the guys in my family seem to inherit it on some part of their body. It’s like our failsafe DNA Decker test. Some of the women have it too, but this is mostly a Decker man thing."

  "Oh," Hazel murmured, feeling a little foolish for the conclusions she had jumped to.

  "Come on," Curtis looked at her. "By the way, I like your hair like that."

  Hazel put a hand to her hair. She had worn it down and curly. It still had that new hairdresser finish and she had splurged a little on some red-gold streaks in her hair.

  "Yes," Curtis said again as he walked up the stairs, "I like it."

  Hazel touched one of her curls and smiled.

  Hazel was introduced to Brandon Blake, Curtis' partner. He was a good-looking guy, almost as tall as Curtis, and he had been knee-deep in a box of what looked like drawings.

  He gave her a friendly greeting and then went back to his search.

  "This is the drawing room," Curtis said. Hazel spun around. It was a long, airy room with glass on one side. "And through here is going to be my office."

  Curtis led her to a room with two folding chairs and a long folding table.

  "Brandon and I have been using this office as my base for a while. Sorry for the mess. I would have liked to take you out to lunch today."

  "It's no problem," Hazel said, looking around. "So what are we eating?"

  Curtis chuckled and sat across from her. "Good question. Let me find out what they have at Rizzle. By the way, is Rizzle's food okay?"

  "Yes," Hazel nodded vigorously, "more than okay. The food is divine, and I am not just saying that because you own it."

  Curtis made a call and Hazel relaxed, watching him as he spoke on the phone. When he hung up, he grinned. "I ordered a bit of everything they have on the menu for lunch. I hope you have an appetite."

  Hazel nodded. Suddenly she was tongue-tied.

  He steepled his fingers and looked at her. "So here we are."

  "Yes, here we are." Hazel crossed her legs. He watched the movement and then looked back at her face.

  "How did you and Brandon meet?" she blurted out before the silence could stretch.

  "In Canada. We worked at the same firm doing several projects together. Then he decided to come back to Jamaica because he missed his girl."

  Hazel smiled.

  "And I had to come back too, so we decided to open a business together." Curtis hesitated and then asked. "Why did you marry John Baron?"

  Hazel grimaced. "Because he wanted a wife, somebody he could leave his money to and spite his family, and I wanted my son. I needed the money to fight for him. I also wanted the prestige and the backing of the Baron name when I did it."

  "Wow!" Curtis leaned back in his chair and regarded her solemnly.

  "What?" Hazel asked. "I was missing out on so much of his growing up, and I was getting desperate."

  "Ironically, while you were plotting to get Sebastian back, I was plotting how to get you to meet him. I can't tell you how many times I thought about contacting you. Then there was your memory loss and I kept waiting for you to get it back...the point is, you never needed to marry the old man."

  Hazel shrugged. "I wouldn't have known that."

  "And now you are a rich widow," Curtis said suspiciously. "You have the means now to fight for him, as you said. What are your plans for him now?"

  "I don't know." Hazel resisted the urge to twirl her hair; she always did that when she felt nervous. "I would want to meet him first. Get to know him."

  "I am the only parent that he knows," Curtis said. "You need me to smooth the way for you."

  "I know." Hazel cleared her throat. "I wish things were different, you know...but he is mine and I want him."

  "He is not just yours," Curtis reminded her, his tone mild. "He has at least half the DNA of another person."

  "Yes." Hazel grimaced. "I don't want to think about that."

  "Maybe you should," Curtis said gently. "Maybe if you did think about him then your memory would come back."

  "I don't know," Hazel said uncomfortably. "Maybe I shouldn't want those memories. Maybe his father is not appropriate or something... who knows. Just the other day, my sisters thought...well...I thought that he could be a Benedict. He looks a lot like Nick Benedict. But he isn't Nick's."

  Curtis nodded. "I know Nick Benedict. Yes, they do have a striking resemblance.”

  "You know Nick?" Hazel opened her eyes wide. "What am I saying? All the rich families know each other, the Benedicts, the Deckers, the Lawsons...”

  "Well..." Curtis grinned. "You say that with such disdain. Shouldn't you add the Barons?"

  "I am barely a year as a Baron. I am barely a Baron." Hazel folded her arms defensively. "I don't even know what I am. I was found on the steps of a shopping center as a baby."

  "I know your history." Curtis' eyes roved her face as if he was searching for something. "We had a full investigation done on you."

  Hazel bit her lip and Curtis' gaze traveled to her lips.

  "You know what I think?" His voice was husky. "I think you need to remember; it might help you to move forward--and I don't think you were promiscuous, just for the record. If you were, you surely did a roundabout tur
n. You live like a nun; you don't date. And I know for a fact that the old man was incapable of sexual relations."

  "How'd you know that? You've been investigating me lately?" Hazel asked suspiciously.

  "Yes." Curtis was unapologetic. "I wouldn't let you near Sebastian if you hadn't checked out. And if you hadn’t checked out I would not have approached you, with or without a court war or the Baron billions."

  He then smiled at her as if he hadn't just challenged her. "So what are your theories as to why Sebastian looks like Nick?"

  Hazel shook her head slightly. She should be happy that Sebastian had somebody in his corner who was looking out for his interests like Curtis was. She would have to play her cards right, though. Curtis seemed to be a worthy opponent. If in the future she wanted Sebastian to be with her fully, she was going to have a fight.

  "Well, I...my sister thinks that I am a Benedict."

  Curtis nodded. "That's a possibility."

  "I did the DNA test today." Hazel leaned back in the folding chair. She was slowly beginning to relax around Curtis. He was very easy to talk to and she didn't have to labor to talk to him, or pick and choose what about her past to tell him. He seemed so knowledgeable about her already. He knew all that she was reluctant to discuss with people anyway.

  "And which one of the Benedicts would you be related to?" Curtis asked, cupping his chin. “Are you Patricia's long lost daughter or Sir Felix Benedict’s love child?”

  Hazel chuckled. "Sir Felix! That's Patricia's father! He's a paragon of virtue. A beacon for the argument of fidelity."

  Curtis chuckled. "Okay. So which Benedict would it be?"

  "Helen Benedict." She went on to tell him the story that Caitlin had told her.

  Curtis nodded. "It makes sense. Let me know how that goes."

  "Sure," Hazel said. "I may tell only you for now. If I am really Helen's daughter, I want to keep it to myself for a while."

  "Our secret." Curtis winked at her, and Hazel had the distinct feeling that she had seen him do that before.

  Chapter Six

  After a delicious lunch with Curtis, Hazel was on her way home when she realized that they hadn't talked much about Curtis. It had mostly been about her! She had told him quite easily and without much prompting everything about herself that he had wanted to know, but she hadn't gotten him to tell her much about himself.

  He had listened to her and had nodded understandingly, even when she told him about her dreams of opening her own restaurant, the issue with the will and the fact that Baron’s family hated her. She had not the sense to pause and ask him about himself. She felt as if she had just come from a therapy session.

  How had she conveniently forgotten that Curtis was the one who had her son and she was literally at his mercy? She had given him ammunition about all her vulnerabilities without blinking an eye.

  She had even told him her favorite color and foods and her hang-ups around Baron's family and lawyers!

  She groaned as she pulled into the shopping center. She had spilled her guts.

  "My favorite color is purple," she had prattled on like an idiot, "not just purple purple, the gentler type of purple—I'd say lavender."

  "Oh, I love absolutely adore anything with peanut butter. When I was pregnant with Sebastian I hated it, though. I had no idea that that was the reason."

  Now she felt uncomfortable that she had told all to Curtis. He had looked interested, though, questioning her about what she could remember of her pregnancy with such interest that she had blabbed on and on about feeling out of sorts in her last trimester and only showing when she was six months pregnant. She had even told him about that summer with Kenzy.

  "I felt so restless that summer. I had just turned sixteen. It was crazy. We went to these parties and were telling people that we were twenty-one, dressing up in Kenzy's mom's clothes and acting like grown-ups."

  He had frowned at that and had looked inexplicably angry. Maybe he was rethinking that she wasn't a fit mother. Maybe his investigations hadn't told him that bit, but there she was, Miss Blabbermouth, laying it bare for him to see.

  Maybe he wasn't as blasé as he acted about her past. His mood had inexplicably changed after that little confession.

  Was he some kind of prude? Obviously, she had a past and must have done some stuff. She had a son; what did he expect?

  When they were done eating he didn't even say when she would see him again. Brandon had come to the office and they had wrangled over some drawing for a client and then he had looked at her vaguely as if she hadn't just spilled her guts to him and simply said, "Hazel, I am so happy that we could do lunch."

  And then she had felt as if she had been keeping him from something important. She had said goodbye and prepared herself to leave but he didn't stop her.

  When he had said goodbye she imagined that he had done so a tad curtly. Had she imagined that when he held the door for her he had looked as if he couldn't wait for her to leave?

  That was not good. Really not good.

  Her phone rang and before she could park the car properly she rummaged in her bag for it. It could be him.

  It wasn't; it was Caitlin. She answered with all the disappointment that was banked up in her voice. Caitlin didn't seem to notice.

  "Did you do it?" she asked Hazel. "I have been so busy that I forgot to call. So did you?"

  "Yes," Hazel answered her, "I did. I reached late and Luca did it instead."

  "Good," Caitlin said, sounding satisfied. "So how was lunch with the hunky Curtis?"

  "Good. Great, I think." Hazel inhaled and then exhaled. "I must be losing my mind, Caity. I spilled my guts to him. I talked to him like I was taking some truth serum and I just had to tell him everything about me."

  Caitlin chuckled.

  "No, seriously." Hazel reclined her chair and turned up the AC. "I was having lunch with this guy for the first time and I was so comfortable I talked and I talked...I am a mess."

  "No you are not," Caitlin said. "There is nothing wrong with communicating."

  "But I told him about how I lied about my age that summer with Kenzy and how we went to parties. I might have just changed his mind about me as a mother for Sebastian."

  "You are Sebastian's mother!" Caitlin said soothingly. "He can't change his mind about that even if he wanted to. Besides, did you tell him that since then you have been overcompensating by being truthful…painfully truthful? You've learned your lesson."

  "You are right but it's not just that." Hazel felt deflated. "He didn't tell me anything about himself. I probably never gave him the chance to do so."

  "So next time you guys meet again, you allow him to do the talking."

  "Suppose there is no next time?" Hazel asked worriedly. "Suppose after today he decides that he does not want to even see me again."

  "You are overreacting," Caitlin said mildly. "He has your son, remember?"

  "Yes. Right." Hazel exhaled on a breath that was meant to soothe the uneasy feeling in her chest but it did nothing for her.

  "Todd and I are thinking of getting married next month," Caitlin said swiftly. "I'll give you all details later, okay?"

  "Ah, congrats, honey," Hazel said huskily. "I am happy for you."

  When Caitlin hung up, Hazel pondered what she was going to do with the rest of her day. She decided to take her mind off Curtis and head for her favorite interior decorator, Mae Joy Green. She was going to refurbish the house, and she might as well start today. That would definitely take her mind off things.

  *****

  Mae Joy was sitting in her office when Hazel got there. Caitlin had used her once before when Baron had decided to redecorate the house that Caitlin and Brigid lived in, and they had become good friends.

  Mae Joy was an attractive woman in her late twenties. She was carrying some extra weight, especially in her bosom area, and she dressed to emphasize her well-endowed chest. Today she was in a low-cut red tank top, over which she wore a well-cut jacket.

 
; She laughed loudly, was effervescent with her clients and had the knack of creating the right designs. She was in high demand at the moment and Hazel was unsure that she would even get a shoe in for her project.

  Mae Joy's eyes lit up when she saw Hazel. "Hey Hazel B, what's up, girl?"

  Hazel winced. Mae Joy was loud. "I am good."

  "You look it," Mae Joy said gesturing to the chair across from her desk. "Have a seat. Have a seat. How is Mr. Baron?"

  "He, uhm... passed," Hazel said. She sat down and looked around the stylish office. Mae Joy had transformed the regular shopping mall space into a very classy place. She had blown up pictures of her designs and mounted them on the walls to show her skill. She had worked on some pretty spectacular places.

  "Ah, I am sorry to hear. He was a very generous client," Mae Joy said. Her face was serious, as if she really meant it. "But he was suffering so I am sure it was for the best."

  "Yes. I think so too," Hazel said, getting to the meat of the matter. "I need to redecorate. My son is coming to Jamaica on Sunday and I want to refresh the house. He will be spending some time with me. I want the place to be more kid friendly."

  "Perfect," Mae said, her face lighting up again. "That house needed to be redecorated. The original decorator listened exclusively to Mr. Baron and the result was a man den. I worked on it as an apprentice. The decorator was frustrated."

  She chuckled. "He couldn't get Baron to accept a suggestion of a stylish, modern design. He would be envious to know that I got the gig to take out all the dark pieces that he had put in."

  Mae Joy's phone rang and she murmured, "Excuse me, Hazel, I am expecting this call."

  Hazel nodded and zoned out. She wasn't interested in hearing Mae Joy's conversation. It seemed like an argument with a parent. Mae Joy was chastising whoever it was for not taking their pain medication.

  Her mind wandered to Curtis. He was never far from her thoughts. She had known the guy for a short time and already she was feeling a little obsessive about him. Should she call him? Or was she reading more into the situation than there was?