“Good afternoon Hart,” replies the little old lady as she grabs at the fabric of her oversized floral gown. “Who’s your visitor?” she asks straight forward. She isn’t trying to hide her nosiness, as she peers at me behind the wire rimmed spectacles on her nose.
“This is Whitney, an old, dear friend of mine,” he says with a friendly tone.
“She’s a pretty young lady,” Ms. Beasley remarks as she shields her eyes from the brightness of the beaming sun with her hand over her forehead, making no effort to hide that she’s trying her best to get a good look.
“Hello and thank you, Ms. Beasley,” I say, waving. I’m relieved by Hart’s teasing words.
“Come on, let’s go inside before she says anything else,” he urges me up the steps towards his front door. “Before you know anything, she’ll talk you into coming in for coffee, and I refuse to give her a chance to steal my lunch date,” he teases. “Have a good day, Ms. Beasley,” he calls out to her before we enter his home. He closes the door behind us to give us privacy from his neighbor’s prying eyes.
“She looks sweet and harmless,” I say once inside and laugh from his earlier comments.
“She is,” he cracks a wide smile and I notice how his eyes crinkle adoringly when he smiles. “She also makes the best cranberry chutney cookies that you’ve ever tasted. Yummy,” he adds, rubbing his stomach.
“I love cranberry chutney cookies. My mother gave me the recipe for hers when I went away to college. I make them especially during Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“Maybe you can make me some, sometimes.”
He leads me through his spacious home and I notice his high, vaulted ceilings and a traditional wood burning fireplace with built-in bookcases on either side.
“Maybe,” I agree and make a note to bake him a batch of cookies in appreciation of him inviting me over for lunch. “Oh, my God. I love your fireplace. Did you build it yourself?” I ask.
“You really like it?”
“Yes, it’s unique. I’ve never seen anything like it,” I say, as I walk over and run my hand across the bricks.
“I designed and built it as well as this house,” he says with a bit of pride in his voice.
“It’s beautiful,” I state, meaning every word.
“Thank you. I’ll give you a tour of the rest of the house after we eat lunch, if you want.”
“Thanks a lot, I’d like to see the rest of your handiwork,” I reply as he leads me through an elegant kitchen and out a door that leads to his back deck.
I gaze over the nestle of trees and neatly-trimmed greenery of the lawn. I look out at the lake. The sun displays ripples on the water, as the brightness from the sun sets a picture-perfect scene that’s most colorful in nature’s beauty. I can see a fish jump out the water and splash back to safety in the distance.
“Did you see that?” I point as the rivulets of water circle inward.
“There are plenty of trout out in the lake,” he smiles. “Do you fish?”
“Ah, no.”
“You’ve never been fishing?” he asks in wide-eyed disbelief.
“No,” I reply looking into his eyes. “Fishing isn’t exactly on my bucket list.”
“We must change that. That’s my boat out there,” he says pointing at a mid-sized boat anchored below. There’s also a walkway that leads out into the water. “I’ll take you fishing soon,” he states as if it’s a fact.
“Will I have to touch mushy worms and stuff? Because if I do, I want no part of it.” I visibly shudder at the thought.
“No, we won’t have to use live bait,” he chuckles as he looks down into my eyes. “I use Swimbait Green Tiger fishing lures for trout,” he explains patiently.
“Oh, that jiggly plastic like things,” I reply, still not warming up to the whole being one with nature idea.
Hart throws his head back and laughs at my comment. “Yes, Whitney. ‘That jiggly plastic like things’.” I join in on his laughter after hearing a repeat of my words. “Let’s have lunch, shall we? You can wash up over there,” Hart says, pointing to a free-standing sink that’s in a small area with the amenities of a kitchen built onto the deck.
“Very nice,” I say as we walk over to wash our hands.
“Thanks. Have a seat and I’ll get our steaks and baked potatoes that are warming on the grill. The salad plates are already on the table. I hope Pinot Noir, is okay to drink,” he says speaking of the wine that’s already chilling in an ice bucket on the table.
“Wine is fine. I can only have one glass since I will be driving.”
“Understood,” he replies as he brings our steak and baked potato on two plates. He places mine before me. He sits directly across from me with his own. “Help yourself to the salad,” he urges me and I do.
He stretches his hands out on the table palms up. I look at him and smile before I place my hand into his. He bows his head to bless our food before we begin to eat. Wow, this man seems too good to be true.
“So, tell me Whitney, what have you been up to since I saw you last?”
“That would be graduation day in 2006, right?
“Right,” he agrees.
“After graduating high school, I went into an Interior Degree Program at the Arts Institute in Atlanta and got a BFA. That’s where I met my best friend and business partner, Sierra Washington. She was my dorm roommate from Alabama. During college, we both interned for Perkins and William’s Designing Firm. They’re the best in the business and we learned a lot from them. After graduating college, they offered each of us jobs. We ventured out two years ago, taking a chance at our own business, W & S Interior Design. It was a struggle at first and still is. But I find satisfaction in having our own business and at the end of the day, it is so worth it.”
“Wow, I’m really proud of your accomplishments. Starting a business is hard as hell, even with the right backing. You have to build up a reputable name for yourself before prospectors will start to take you serious.”
“Exactly. This food is so good by the way. You’re a great cook.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He gives me another dazzling smile that causes wetness to seep into my panties. I squeeze my thighs together to soothe my throbbing clit. He has a girlfriend, Whitney. He’s off limits. I try to reason with myself.
Damn, I haven’t had sex in the seven months since Tony and I broke up, and my womanly needs are internally screaming as I take in his effortless charm. I hope Hart isn’t picking up on my desires. The thought of Tony quickly shifts my thoughts from that train wreck of a relationship I would’ve avoided had I known. I shake my head slightly to clear my mind of him and focus on my conversation with Hart. Tony no longer deserves to take up space in my brain.
“So, catch me up about you. You were always so smart in school in every subject. I always thought you would be a doctor or a scientist,” I admit to Hart.
“Nah, although I was good in all of my subjects, I’ve always loved to build things with my hands. I guess you can say that I had a lot of time on my hands as a kid, since I couldn’t play sports. But I built things instead—dog houses, bird houses. I even built a friend of my family’s daughter a playhouse once when I was sixteen years old,” he reveals to me.
“That’s admirable, Hart. I can see you’re very talented and it’s my loss that I didn’t get to know you better growing up,” I say with regret in my tone.
“We’re getting to know each other now. That’s all that matters to me.”
A blush grows to my cheeks from the acuteness in his fiery eyes. I nervously take a sip from my wine. I can’t believe the effect he’s having on me. “Did you go to college?” I ask him, to change the subject.
“I won a full ride to U of CO. The University of Colorado has one of the best Construction and Engineering Management programs in the country. I graduated in three years with all honors.”
“That’s admirable, Hart.”
He shrugs it off as if his accomplishments are nothi
ng to brag about. “I just worked hard and studied even harder. I’m very focused when it comes to something I want,” he says before picking up his wine glass and taking a sip. He peers over the glass and into my eyes as he drinks.
“Being focused and driven are great traits when it comes to business. I read about your construction company in Forbes’s magazine,” I admit that I’ve done my research on Hart Martin and his impressive construction business.
“It was an honor to grace their magazine. They really made me look good,” he says with a humble smile. “After graduating from the university, I had a great start. I never had to really work for anyone else. My grandfather left me more than enough inheritance to start my company from the ground up. In that regard, I’m very blessed to have that money waiting for me when I finished college. May I offer you anything else?”
“Yes, that is a blessing. And no, everything was delicious. Thank you, but I can’t possibly eat another bite, even if I tried.”
“You’re very welcome. Let me clean off the table and I’ll give you the tour of the house that I promised you earlier.”
“Great, but let me help you cleanup.”
“I wouldn’t hear of you lifting a finger. You’re my guest—”
“So, what? My mother raised me right,” I say, before standing to pick up our plates. I leave him to get the rest as I walk off towards his kitchen. I can hear him laughing as he follows behind me.
“What’s so funny?” I peer over my shoulder and ask.
“You are beautiful Whitney…You are.” He shakes his head from side to side. “I can also see that you are one stubborn woman.”
“Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Strong?” I pretend to frown at him before placing the dishes in the sink.
“No problem. I like a bit of spiciness in a woman.”
“I see,” I said biting my lip. “Is the woman I saw you with at lunch yesterday very spicy too?”
Hart laughs again at my choice of words. My mouth grows into a pout. Actually, I want to know more about the woman he’s dating. I don’t have time to play heart games with anyone, including Hart.
“I’m sorry,” he says as we rinse and place dishes into the dishwasher. “No, Sabrina is not spicy. She happens to be very bland,” he answers with a straight face. “No seasoning, none whatsoever.”
I bite back a smile and keep a serious expression on my face. I know this is just my first lunch with Hart, but I feel the need to get a clear understanding of what he has going on with Sabrina out in the open. “Oh, really,” I cross my arms to stare at him. “Are you two serious?”
“Like I told you yesterday, we are just dating. I’m not planning on marrying her or anything like that.”
“How long have the two of you been dating?”
“For less than a year. Maybe eight months,” he replies.
“Eight months is a long time. Sounds serious to me,” I say and hump my shoulders. I go back to finishing up the dishes.
“Well, I can assure you that we are not serious and Sabrina knows that. She’s all the time asking me where we stand and I tell her that we are only dating. What about you Whitney? Is there anyone special in your life?” Hart asks. This time, he is the one to stop and fold his arms across his chest, while he bestows his scrutinizing gaze on me.
“No, if there were anyone special in my life, I wouldn’t be here with you. I’m a very loyal woman,” I state with directness.
His eyes light up. “So, you’re telling me that you are completely single?”
“Correct. But you’re not,” I say to smother any ideas sparking in his mind about us hooking up. I’m not playing second to another woman, and I damn sure am not about to be foolish enough to think that he’s going to just leave her high and dry after eight months of dating.
“I’m not married, Whitney. Do you see a wedding ring on this finger?” he asks, holding up his hand for me to see.
I don’t see a ring. But I notice his hand is big, strong and has a few nicks and scrapes on it. Otherwise, his nails are neatly trimmed and clean. The nicks and scrapes attest to the fact that he has worker’s hands. I imagine how his big, long fingers would feel against my flesh. I flush inwardly. I really like him, but it’s fruitless for me to be having these thoughts. Damn, why does he have to be taken?
“I don’t see a wedding ring but that’s doesn’t mean you’re not committed, Hart,” I say and almost melt, when his eyes plea for me to believe his words and not what I saw at the restaurant. “Listen, I gave almost two years to my last boyfriend. Invested myself really. In those two years, he was also dating someone else. The other woman he married. All I got was a broken heart,” I say, feeling disgusted at naivety at the situation. “So, I’m not willing to deal with anyone who’s dating another woman.”
“I’m so sorry,” Hart says with a look of concern on his face. “I could never string someone along in such a way.”
I don’t mean to, but I fume over his last statement. I mean, what does he mean he could never string someone along in such a way, when that’s exactly what he is doing to Sabrina? After eight months, I’m sure she thinks that they’re serious, just like I thought me and Tony were serious. Poor girl probably has wedding plans and everything written in a tablet somewhere. I hate to think of Hart in this way, but he’s probably no better than Tony. It’s time that I bow out of this lunch date. It was fun, while it lasted.
“Hart, thank you for lunch. I really enjoyed catching up with you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be having lunch, coffee, or any other kind of date with you as long as you’re seeing someone else. I should go,” I say retracing my steps towards the front of the house to the front door. I pick up my handbag and reach for the doorknob.
Hart is right behind me every step of the way. His hand covers mine before I turn the doorknob. “Whitney.” He pulls my hand away from the doorknob. He then places his hands on each of my shoulders. His gaze lures mine to his. “I won’t pretend to know how much this Tony guy hurt you. And, it may be too soon for me to say this, but I really like you and always have. I don’t think we reconnected by chance. I think it was destiny that let us meet again. If it takes me stopping dating to get to know you better, then I will do what I have to do to meet your standards. Give me a chance to handle my business, but don’t write me off just yet, beautiful.”
I search Hart’s eyes. There’s no deceit lurking in their depths. “You can call me when you are truly free and we’ll talk then,” I finally say.
“Thank you.” He lets me go and opens the door for me. “I appreciate you coming to have lunch with me, Whitney. I enjoyed your company, and I’ll definitely be calling you soon,” he says.
I nod my head before turning to walk out the door. I walk down the stairs and unlock my car door and get inside. I take one last look at Hart standing outside his doorway. He lifts his hand in a farewell wave before I start my car and drive away.
I tell myself that did the right thing. As much as I want to know more about Hart Strong, I won’t go through what I did with Tony. I don’t ever to be blindsided by another man again. My heart could never take such mishandling again. And I wouldn’t dare put another woman through what I went through with Tony.
Chapter 9
WHITNEY
This week has started off really busy. It’s getting progressively busier by the minute. Sierra and I are supposed to be working, but I’m thinking about Hart Strong. I just can’t help it. He’s infiltrates my thoughts during my wake and sleeping hours.
“I know you're joking," Sierra says. I’m finally telling her about my lunch date with Hart over a week ago.
“No, I’m not joking. I haven’t heard from him since I left his house. He said he was going to call me, but he hasn’t, so that’s that.”
“Maybe he’s busy. He does run a successful business, you know.”
“Yeah, I thought the same, until I was glancing through the Atlanta Media and saw a picture of Hart and his girlfriend out
on a yacht. It appears that she’s a celebrity model.” I sigh in exasperation. “Maybe he decided to keep seeing her after all, since I told him that I couldn’t see him again as long as he has a girlfriend.” My heart does a somersault with disappointment. I’m attracted to Hart, but I know this fleeting feeling will go away with time. I can barely get my words out, before Sierra interrupts.
“Girl, I know you didn’t tell that man that. You messed up on your first date by giving him an ultimatum like that. Why would you do such a thing, Whit? Never mind,” she says, answering her own question. “Tony’s ass is the cause of your reasoning. Let me see the picture,” she says. I get up and hand the paper over to her. She scans it a bit before returning it to me. “She ain’t all that. Skinny heifer,” she mutters.
I laugh and return to my seat. I don’t have to open my mouth to reply to her statement regarding Tony. She and I both know that my ex-boyfriend is behind my decision not to date Hart. Men will only complicate my life. I have too much work to keep me occupied without thinking about Hart, or anybody else for that matter. Him going this long without contacting me shows his true lack of interest in me anyway. Not hearing from him only makes my decision easier.
"Sierra, I have to meet with C and C jewelers at ten o’clock,” I say, changing the subject. “Also, we really need to break down and hire someone to handle all of our appointments. I drove all the way to Marietta yesterday to look at a prospective client’s home. Their mini mansion will be good for business, if we get the contract, but it would be good to have someone to do the preliminary work for us.”
“Our bid is fair enough for us C and C to make us an offer. And, you’re absolutely right about us needing some help in here. We really need someone to run the office while we are out. I’ll line up a couple of interviews or call the temp service to see if we can use someone from their pool. You know I have another trip to Auburn planned. My parents’ neighbors, Drake and Alyssa Peterson, want me to decorate two rooms in their home. I plan on being there for at least two or three days at the most. Everything I need has already been ordered."
Loving HART Page 4