"Oh, there you are," Bobby said. "Ian and I were looking around. I was looking for you and he was looking for his wife, Ruby."
Rory almost winced. This was Ruby's husband, this hulk of a man that looked like he could break bricks with his bare hands. He pasted on a smile and held out his hand to Ian. They were the same height. Ruby always did have a thing for guys who were much taller than she was.
Ian shook his outstretched hand. His grip was firm and his hand felt calloused.
"You and Ruby are from the same parish. Do you know her?" Ian asked. He had a deep voice and a confident handshake.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know her," Rory said, nodding. He was almost sure that he knew Ruby much better than Ian did. He was in her life through the turbulent teen years, the confused early adult years. He liked to believe that he knew Ruby better than Ruby knew herself. They had been through so much together—shared so much.
"I was just saying hello to her," he responded to Ian, who was giving him a far too speculative look for comfort.
Ruby pushed her head through the window. "I am here." She waved to Ian.
Ian nodded and was about to stride toward the driver's side of the car. "Well, nice to meet you, Pastor... er... Panton."
Bobby chipped in before Rory could go, "Ian is a drummer in the New Song band."
"Oh, you don't say," Rory said politely. "You guys are famous. I have seen you perform on television for national programs."
"Yes, they are famous," Bobby said, "but humble too. You will want to get acquainted with all of them while you are here. They are great guys."
Ian stepped away. "See you tomorrow evening at the official send-away at your home, Bobby."
"Goodnight," Bobby said smiling, patting Ian on the back.
Ian walked around to the driver's side of the car and glanced at Ruby. She had on one of her impenetrable expressions.
Her lips were red and wet, as if she was biting them. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but he already knew the answer. She would give him a fake fine and that would get him frustrated, and then he would pick a fight just to find out what her true feelings were. He didn't have the energy for a fight right now.
"You didn't say that you knew Pastor Panton?" he asked Ruby instead.
"I do." She nodded and considered telling him just how well but she changed her mind. They had enough problems as it was. Why should she add to them?
Chapter Two
When Ruby walked into their spacious apartment she kicked off her shoes and massaged the back of her neck gently. Ian hung the keys on the key holder. He leaned against the wall and watched Ruby. From where he stood he could see the large 20" x 25" wedding portrait on the opposite wall. In the picture he was smiling down at Ruby and she had a look of bliss on her face. That was nearly five years ago, on September 10. Their wedding anniversary was in two weeks and he had a curling sense of fear that they would not reach it in one piece.
Ruby was a complicated jumble of a woman, and after the second year of their marriage he could sense an unhappiness in her that was making him unhappy as well. The Ruby he lived with now was a far cry from the woman he had married. That woman was bubbly and full of life and couldn't get enough of him. She always wanted them to do things together. She laughed long and loud at jokes and was the type to dance in the rain, the type who wanted to try everything at least once, especially in the bedroom. She had been the kind of wife any red blooded heterosexual male would appreciate.
This brooding and introspective woman was a mere shadow of who Ruby was.
He stared at her as she walked toward the sunken living room. Today she had chosen to wear to church a silk green patterned dress that had a high neck. As usual, the oriental style dress hugged her in the right places. Ruby was petite but had the right proportions all over. He almost smiled as she hiked up the narrow fitted skirt of her dress and threw herself down onto their cream colored sofa. She lay down and looked at him enquiringly.
"Are you going to stand there and stare at me all night?"
Ian sighed. He moved away from the wall and stood at the beginning of the arched entrance to the cream and gold living room. He hated the decor and the designer blandness of the place. He and Ruby had not gotten around to changing the original colors.
He had not wanted to live on the seventh floor of an apartment building but he had helped to build the apartment complexes that overlooked the sea on Montego Bay's famous hip strip and he had gotten the option of choosing an apartment for himself. At the time Ruby had liked the idea of living in the luxurious apartment overlooking the sea, but the longer they lived there the more they realized that it wouldn't be the best place for a family. They both wanted children, but Ruby wanted them more than he did at this time.
Ruby used to talk about it all the time. After the second year of marriage they had tried for almost a full year. They had done everything: taken temperature, tried to have sex in the optimal position, but now they were both resigned to the fact that having children would happen when it happened—or at least, he had resigned himself to that.
They were still young. He was thirty-two and Ruby was twenty-eight. He wondered, though, if Ruby was on the same page as him. He had observed that she had gotten broody, almost children-obsessed. She was the one who was always holding the babies at church, and she loved spending time with Carson's girl, Mia. Sometimes she would volunteer to babysit different children at church.
Maybe that was what was bugging her? The lack of a child?
If it was, he could more than give her a helping hand in that regard. It would be his pleasure to make babies with his wife, but her body language now read keep off; touch me and I'll bite. He pushed his hands in his pockets.
"Want us to do something fun tonight? Watch a movie?"
"Nah," Ruby said, looking at him and then turning her head away to stare at the blank television screen.
"Want something to eat?" Ian persisted. Her body language was shouting that she wanted to be alone, but he needed to know why.
"No." Ruby looked at him. "I just want to be left alone." She sat up in the sofa. "Is that too much to ask?"
"No." Ian walked toward the settee and stared at her enquiringly. "For the past six months or so, you have been going off on your own. If I didn't know better I would say you are having an affair. Talk to me, Ruby." He tensed himself for the usual brush-off.
He sat down beside her because he realized that towering over her could cause another fight. Last quarrel, she had accused him of intimidating her with his height and bulk, something that was a turn-on for her—Ruby was a mass of contradictions.
He sighed. "Help me out here, Ruby."
"I am unhappy." Ruby looked at him; there was some moisture in her eyes. "I am so unhappy."
"With me?" Ian asked softly.
"No. Yes. I don't know. I really can't pinpoint what it is."
"Does this have anything to do with your inability to get pregnant?" Ian asked bluntly. He was not going to skirt the one issue that was like a festering sore under the surface.
Ruby gasped and then turned her head into her hand. "I don't know. I guess."
That was Ruby-speak for yes, Ian surmised. He was getting adept at Ruby's language. He had been getting lots of practice because of her lack of communication these last few days.
"Want us to work on impregnating you now?" he asked half-seriously.
"I am not in the mood," Ruby said, staring at him through her fingers. He saw that she didn't have on her wedding ring.
"Where's your ring?" he asked.
"I left it at work," she said. "I had to pitch in to help the catering crew that we hired for a birthday party. I took it off and put it in my desk."
"Remember to put it back on," Ian joked. "Don't think I didn't see how that pastor guy this evening was looking at you. Maybe he thought you are still single."
Ruby forced herself not to react by tensing her muscles; instead, she faked a nonchalance she did not feel and sa
id flippantly, "He knows I am married, silly, and so is he, forget?"
Ian shrugged. "Some men don't care, and I am not in the habit of putting pastors on pedestals. I am still trying to get over what Alice told us about Pastor Keen."
He got up. "Since you are not in the mood to spend any time with me, I should finish working on the Palm Tree Hotel proposal for the presentation on Monday. I am competing against three other big name contractors for this."
"It's yours already," Ruby said. "Aaron always looks out for his friends."
"Aaron is not spearheading this," Ian said regretfully. "His older brother Boris is. The relationship between them is such that I better not mention Aaron's name or my connection to him or else I will be unceremoniously kicked to the curb. Boris is still smarting over the fact that he is not heir apparent to the Palm Tree dynasty, though he is the eldest son."
He headed to the third smallest bedroom, where he had set up a home office, and closed the door, leaving Ruby lying on the settee.
So Ian noticed how Rory looked at me. She closed her eyes. She wouldn't think about Rory or the fact that he was her pastor, not tonight. Maybe not ever. She wouldn't dust off any of their memories and examine them closer. God has the weirdest sense of humor, she thought.
Why was her ex-lover, the guy she used to live with in college, her first love, her first mistake, now here in Montego Bay—as the pastor of her church, no less? With him was Sue-Ann, the girl who had plotted and schemed to get her out of Rory's life using any means necessary. Sue-Ann had almost destroyed her in the process, this Sue-Ann who was now her first lady.
She laughed to herself. Well, people do change. God can change people and use them for his purpose. She was testimony to that, she and Rory.
Ian opened the office door. "Ruby, everything all right? Heard you laughing to yourself in the dark?"
Ruby pulled herself up and looked over the arm of the settee. "Just reflecting how utterly amazing God is."
Ian chuckled. "Carry on then." He closed the door.
*****
The sound of her cell phone ringing jolted Ruby out of her lethargy. It was in her bag, which was across the room, by her shoes. She groaned and reluctantly got out of the settee. It was her work phone. She had put the company's jingle Let's Party as her ring tone.
She answered it, putting on her bright professional voice even though she felt neither bright nor professional right now.
"Ruby Scott speaking."
"You have got to help me," a female voice said. "I'll double your pay. I don't care."
"Okay," Ruby said slowly. "Who am I speaking to, please?"
"Farrah Knight," the girl said. "Sorry about my lack of manners. I am so overwhelmed right now. Here's the thing. I sort of promised—well, boasted to my Dad that I could put together a fun day for some investors. I don't know what came over me. I fancied myself to be an event planner. I mean, how hard could it be, right? You've heard of my dad? Kingsley Knight?"
Ruby was nodding vigorously over the phone. Who hadn't heard of the Knights? They were legendary figures in Jamaica's hotel industry. Three of the brothers owned a chain of hotels. They were fondly referred to as the Knighthood. This was the youngest child of the clan, spoiled heiress Farrah. She was always being featured in the society pages of the newspapers at one party or the other. Next year December she was going to tie the knot with the equally rich and powerful Jason Cavendish.
She couldn't believe her good fortune. Her business partner, Cynth, had always wanted to be on the Knights’ radar for event planning. She would do anything this girl asked for, even if it meant that they would have to work like maniacs to accomplish it. This is what Cynth would call serendipity.
"Yes, I have heard of your father," Ruby replied pleasantly. She applauded herself for keeping her voice even-toned, because she really wanted to squeal in glee.
"The event is Wednesday coming. I sort of wanted to do a casual thing, have them let down their hair a bit, you know. Most of the time they are stuffed shirts. So I rented the Bellefield Great House for the day. I had such huge plans, I have a long checklist here of things to do but all the vendors are booked. Every single one of them, and I did flash my name around and offered them loads of money but they all gave me the same run around. I can't believe they don't know who I am."
They know who Farrah Knight is, Ruby thought gleefully, but they probably thought that it was a prank.
"What on earth are they doing on a Wednesday?" Farrah was seething over the phone.
"Don't worry about that," Ruby said calmly, "just tell me what you have in mind and Let's Party will work on it for you."
Real heiresses do not plan huge parties by themselves. People like her and Cynth did that for the elite crowd. Unless Farrah had shown up to prove that she was really Farrah Knight, vendors would think it was a hoax.
Ruby paused. How did she know that this wasn't a prank call?
"Thank you so much," Farrah said a calmer note in her voice. "Carson said you guys at Let's Party were among the best in the business."
"You know Carson?" Ruby asked incredulously. How did Carson know these super rich people?
"Yes," Farrah said, "I grew up with Carson and Xavier. Their mother, Delores, used to work for us."
"Oh," Ruby said. She remembered Carson jokingly saying that Xavier, his brother, had a soft spot for the heiress, Farrah Knight. She had thought it was from seeing her picture on the society pages of the local newspapers.
"I even wanted the New Song band to play at my function but they aren't available for Wednesday, either. What sort of band are they?"
Ruby chuckled. "All of them work. Sorry, they are mostly available on weekends and public holidays. I have some questions for you... There are a couple of calls I can make tonight, favors to call in to ease your way for Wednesday."
Chapter Three
Ian was in high spirits on Monday morning. He knew the ins and outs of the Palm Tree Hotel's architectural plans and how to execute them. He was going to the presentation with his computer, just to show the 'suits' the figures and walk them through the construction process. His father had taken him on work sites since he was a tot, so he knew the ins and outs of the building business before he even went to Trade School. He could do everything when it came to building, plumbing, electrical installation, tiling, and roofing. He was literally a jack-of-all-trades and he had the work experience to back him up. His biggest project to date was a chain of boutique hotels in Trelawny. He had finished that project under budget and on time.
Back then he had incentive to perform well. It had been the second year of his marriage and Ruby had babies on her mind. He had been frequently ordered home at odd hours to engage in the baby-making task. He grinned to himself. This year he was probably going to be required to do the same, judging from Ruby's current moodiness.
He turned into the lush grounds of the Palm Tree Hotel and parked in the service parking lot. He knew exactly where he was going; he had been at this particular hotel many times before. This was where he had gotten married almost five years ago. It was where the band had performed for several functions. He passed through the lobby area and into the hotel offices upstairs. This was a section of the hotel guests were not privy to but it was still luxuriously laid out. This hotel was actually the headquarters of the Palm Tree Hotel brand and their subsidiaries.
He entered a lobby area and was just in time to see Aaron striding through with his phone jammed to his ear.
Aaron looked up at Ian, waved, and gave him a thumbs-up sign. He stopped near the reception desk.
Ian grinned. There were two other men in the waiting area and he figured they were his competition. He went over to the reception desk.
"I am here for a ten o'clock appointment," he said to the perfectly made-up receptionist.
She smiled. "You are Mr. Ian Scott?"
Ian nodded. He had the urge to fix his tie. He was not used to such formalities on a Monday morning.
"Have a
seat, sir," she continued. "I'll let Mr. Lee know you are here."
Aaron hung up his phone and leaned on the desk. "Mr. Scott, how are things?"
Ian grinned. He knew Aaron was joking with him. He was the least formal of all his friends. He hated the necessity of suits and ties and referring to him as Mr. Scott was Aaron's way of mocking him.
"I am fine, Mr. Lee. How are you?"
"Good." Aaron nodded and then he stepped nearer to Ian. "Stop fidgeting with the tie; you'll do well. You certainly look the part."
Ian grinned. "Thanks."
"When you are done come by my office," Aaron whispered. "We can grab some lunch together. I'll ask Chef to send up your favorite dish, escoveitch fish."
"Sure, thanks," Ian said, moving to sit in the plush leather chairs near his competitors.
The two men had been looking at his exchange with Aaron with frowns. He could hear their brains ticking from where he was sitting. So he knew the boss? The job was his then.
He wished.
He said a silent word of prayer to the Lord for bringing him this far. This was a huge project. He glanced at the guy sitting nearest to him. He was from a big firm, Coolridge and Associates; they built stadiums and got huge government contracts. They probably had university graduate accountants come up with reams and reams of accounting data and forecasts, and had land surveyors evaluate the project, and had virtual images of every detail, down to a stone.
He sighed. He got most of his schooling by practicing. His dad, Clive, was the ultimate teacher and though he was not formally trained, Clive was one of the best contractors around. Even in his seventies he was still working. He was helping Ian to construct his house. They were building Ian's four-bedroom designer dream home in the Rose Hall neighborhood, almost single-handedly. It was their bonding time.
Duet on Fire Page 2