by Tina Martin
Beatrice placed her hand over her heart. “I...I...I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You already have. Oh, and by the way, how much am I paying you?”
“Twenty dollars and hour.”
“That just went up by ten an hour.”
Beatrice almost fell out of her seat. She placed both of her hands on the table and steadied herself since her head was spinning. She took a handkerchief from a pocket on the apron she was wearing and dabbed her forehead and the perimeter of her face. “Dilvan, do you have a fever?”
He grinned. “No, I’m fine, Beatrice...just righting a lot of wrongs, starting with you.”
“Well, ain’t God good,” she declared, raising her hands to the roof. “I sho do ‘preciate it.”
“You deserve it.”
“Well, let me get these dishes cleaned up,” she said with a pep in her step, eager to work now that she’d just gotten a raise and apparently a sane boss.
“Um...actually, before you go, I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.” She gave him her attention again.
“At the wedding reception party, did Gabrielle say anything about me?”
Beatrice thought about it for a moment and said, “No...I don’t believe she did.”
“I saw her that day...at the store. She was buying some ice,” he said in a nostalgic way.
“Oh yeah, ‘cause the ice maker had stopped working or something like that. So you spoke with Mrs. Gabrielle?”
Dilvan nodded. “Briefly.”
“Dilvan, you know Gabrielle and Tyson are happily married now, don’t ya?”
Those words spewing from her mouth stabbed him in the heart. “Yeah, I know but—”
“But don’t you think it’s best to let her be...for her sake and for your own?”
“I thought about it, but no, I don’t. I can’t get over feeling like Tyson took her from me, Beatrice. I mean, I know where I went wrong with Gabrielle, and all I want to do is make it right.”
Beatrice sighed, feeling sympathy for his situation for the first time since Gabrielle left. Dilvan seemed to be genuinely sorry for what he’d done to her and Beatrice could see firsthand that he was making changes. Yet and still, he needed to realize that Gabrielle was with Tyson now, and they were married and in love. So drawing in a breath, she said, “Sometimes, it’s hard for us to move on, ‘specially when we know we’re the one who messed up.”
Dilvan shook his head in agreement. “Let me ask you this...you know me. Do you think I’m a loveable person?”
Beatrice sighed. She didn’t want to tell him what she really thought – that he was too rigid to even think about love. But she didn’t want to sugar-coat anything either. “I think that sometimes, people rush into love and relationships. You’re still young, Dilvan, and you a handsome fella, too. Just take some time, get yourself together and figure out how you can make yourself a better person – a person that will be ready for a relationship. Everything else will fall into place.”
Dilvan nodded. “Thanks for the advice.”
“Anytime. Now, let me clean up in here.”
Dilvan crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He’d been getting a lot of advice lately but something about Beatrice’s advice resonated with him. Make yourself a person that will be ready for a relationship...it sounded easy but Dilvan knew it would require a lot of hard work, and to win Gabrielle back, he was up for the challenge.
Chapter 3
~ * ~
After extending the umbrella above the four-chair patio table, Gabrielle sipped on a cup of coffee, topped with cool whip and cinnamon, waiting for Tyson to join her. The morning was sweet, the humid air dampened her skin and while she looked towards the water, she admired the way the sun struck it at different angles which brightened some spots and darkened others, producing a variation of colors.
Taking a deep breath, Gabrielle inhaled it all in and released a slow, steady breath like she was practicing some type of deep breathing technique. Her body was well exercised thanks to jogging, and thoroughly loved thanks to Tyson. Now he was busy making breakfast.
She watched him emerge from the kitchen holding two plates. She smiled. Every time she laid eyes on him it was out of admiration and appreciation. He inspired her in so many ways – she wanted nothing other than to be a better woman for him. A woman with something going for herself. She wanted him to admire her as much as she admired him.
She watched him smile. He had on a white T-shirt and a pair of raggedy, distressed jeans that gave him a sexy, bad-boyish edge.
“Here you are, my dear,” he said setting a plate in front of her. “Let me know how you like it.”
He placed his plate on the table across from her, then took the seat in front of it.
Gabrielle hadn’t touched her food because she was too busy watching Tyson take his seat. Once he did, he looked up at her and met her gaze. “What?”
Gabrielle shook her head. “Nothing,” she decided to say. At some point, she knew he would grow tired of hearing her say how lucky she was to have him and how much she loved him. But that’s exactly what she was thinking.
“Nothing?” he responded. “Looks like you’re in deep thought.”
“I was.”
“About what?”
As if you don’t know. Gabrielle took another sip of coffee. “Nothing.” She studied him more, realizing that he was somewhat of a mystery. The fact that she didn’t know every single detail about him seemed to give him an edge. Besides, everyone had a past – some hidden secrets that they didn’t want anyone to know about. Even though Tyson’s secrets were the topic of many rumors, she could see for herself that he was a good man. He’d helped her get back on her feet and rescued her from his cruel, self-absorbed cousin. In the process, he’d fallen in love with her, made her his wife and now, they were sharing breakfast on a most beautiful day.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Tyson said, watching the breeze tackle her hair. The wind had picked up considerably. A storm was in the forecast for the evening hours.
Gabrielle smiled. “I was just thinking about some stuff.” She took a knife and a fork, sliced open the pastry watching cheese ooze out. Then she collected a piece on her fork and tasted it. “Mmm,” she mumbled. “Tyson, this is so good.”
Tyson smiled and began eating his own meal. Then taking a sip of coffee, he set the cup on the table and said, “Talk to me, Bri.”
“Okay, okay. So, I’ve been thinking about something,” Gabrielle began with garbled words because she was still eating. “I want to learn the business of restaurants. That’s what you do...that’s what Padma does, so since I haven’t mapped out a career path for myself, I was thinking that maybe I should learn the career of those around me.”
He tilted his head, looking at her in an intriguing way. She was married to a millionaire, yet, she still wanted a career? She didn’t need a job. She didn’t need to do anything but be his wife.
“What?” she asked when she noticed he’d stopped eating.
With something akin to a smirk on his face, he said, “Just curious as to why you want a career.”
She shrugged. “I always wanted a career. My father taught me I should work for what I want and not rely on anyone for anything.”
He frowned. Something about the way she said that didn’t go over well with him. “Not rely on anyone?” he said, borderline offended. “I’m your husband.”
“I know that, but—”
“But you don’t want to rely on me.”
“Tyson—”
“If you can’t rely on me, Gabrielle, who are you going to rely on?”
“Okay, wait...I think we’re getting off track here. I don’t want to argue, Tyson. I just—”
“Want a career...” he finished saying for her.
“Yes, and I’ve been thinking about one day opening a bakery. Do you realize that there are only three bakeries in Nags Head, and they don’t make the kind of things you make?”
/> “Yes, I realized that, actually,” he said, feeling his frustration mount. “Do you realize that my annual salary for the last five years have topped fifteen million dollars?”
Gabrielle sighed. She could read between the lines, of what he was trying to say without actually having to say it. “Tyson, just hear me out. Please?”
He took a sip of coffee.
She continued, “So these existing bakeries are just the powdered and glazed doughnut types. Opening a bakery and making the things you make will be a complete change to the traditional bakery, and having one on this side of the Outer Banks would be a plus, which leads me to this...um...Padma and Lalita are going to a restaurant seminar in Chicago this weekend and I want to go with them.”
Tyson tried his best to hide the frown in his forehead, but it came through as bright as the morning sun.
“You don’t like the idea,” Gabrielle said.
“You know I have to be in Atlanta this weekend. Remember the discussion I had with you about some new kitchen equipment I’m trying out there before I roll them out to the other restaurants?”
“Yes.”
“That’s this weekend.”
“Well, you could go there, and I will go to Chicago with Padma and Lalita.”
“Absolutely not.”
Gabrielle grinned. She thought Tyson was joking at first, but when she watched the frown deepen in his forehead, she knew he was serious. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you going there without me. And why, all of a sudden, do you want a career, Gabrielle?”
“I’ve always wanted a career. I don’t just want to live off of you.”
“You’re my wife.”
“I realize that and—”
“Do you realize that, because I don’t think you do? And to be quite frank with you, I’m not sure if I want you to work. It’s completely unnecessary.”
Gabrielle frowned. “Maybe to you it is, but it means something to me to make something of myself.”
“You are something. You’re my wife...the future mother of my children. I don’t want a wife that’s embedded into a job. I want a family woman.”
Gabrielle felt her sudden elation of the day slowly began to dissipate into the humid air. She hadn’t expected this conversation about her dreams and goals going south. Tyson was always quick to support her, but on this issue, he remained firm.
“Tell me, Gabrielle...tell me what you want that you don’t already have. All you have to do is ask me and it’s yours...you know that.”
“I want to go with Padma and Lalita to Chicago.”
Tyson was already shaking his head before she could get the words out. “No.”
Gabrielle leaned back in her chair, thinking about it. What would she do? Defy her husband and go anyway, or respect his wishes?
“Now that I’ve said no,” Tyson said, “You have to make your own choice. You’re grown, I cannot tell you what to do. I’m not a tyrant, holding you hostage in our home and expecting you to do everything I want. All I can do is express my opinion to you and my opinion is, you do not need to do this. Once you get wrapped up in a career, it’s only going to put a strain on our marriage and—”
“I’m not Desiree, Tyson,” Gabrielle blurted out. She’d been thinking it, but his rant pushed her to actually say it out loud.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“But that’s basically the reason you don’t like my idea...you think I’m going to do what she did to you, right?”
Tyson glared at her. He could admit to himself that he was afraid of what a career would do to his wife. If she was busy making her own money, she would begin to lose interest in their family life and be more concerned with making a name for herself instead of being a wife to him and mother to their future children. So trying to calm things down, he said, “You working is simply not my vision for us.”
“Then what is your vision for us. Can you share that with me?”
“I want us to raise our children.”
Brows furrowed, she said, “We don’t even have children yet.”
“Not yet, but it’s bound to happen sooner or later, right, unless you’re on some type of birth control and didn’t tell me about it. Are you?”
“No.”
“Then you could be pregnant right now, right?”
Gabrielle closed her eyes. Then inhaling a deep breath, she released it slowly like a smoker would who’d just taken a puff.
“All I want is what’s good for our family,” Tyson said, “And what’s good for the family is when the wife stays at home with the kids. Heck, I work from home, so we’ll both be here.”
“Yeah, okay,” Gabrielle said, realizing she was on the losing end of this battle. “Excuse me.” She got up from the table, and rushed off to the bathroom, pacing back and forth. She was too angry to cry and now, she had to tell Padma that she wasn’t going to Chicago.
Gosh, why does he have to be so cut and dry? Gabrielle loved her husband, but it seemed his plans for the family were just that – his plans. For a man so loving and caring, why hadn’t he taken her wants, goals and desires into consideration?
Chapter 4
~ * ~
Dilvan sat at a small café, waiting for his father to arrive. While he waited, he flagged a waitress to his table, watching her smile as she strutted his way in a black, knee-length skirt and white top.
“Good morning,” she said, all smiles.
“Good morning,” he replied.
“What can I get for ya?”
“Just a cup of decaf, please.”
“Not eating breakfast, or shall I say brunch today, Mr. Alexander?”
Dilvan frowned, looked at the woman trying to determine whether or not he knew her. He didn’t. “How do you know my name?”
“I follow you on Instagram and I just want to say that you look even better in person.”
“Well, thank you.” He checked the woman out a little closer. Before she complimented him, he hadn’t noticed how cute she was in a college girl type of way.
“Be right back with your coffee.”
“Decaf,” he reminded her.
“Yes,” she said, turning around, smiling. “Decaf.”
He sighed. Where are you, Dad? He took out his phone to see if he had any missed calls. There were none. Then he checked his email and saw that his manager had sent something. This was the first email he’d received from her in three weeks. He clicked on it:
TO: Dilvan Alexander
FROM: Len Phillips
SUBJECT: New Gig in the Windy City!
Dilvan,
Hope all is well. I think I may have landed you the perfect gig. It’s going to be a one-day shoot in Chicago on Saturday. The client is Ross & Co. They want you to model some button-ups and jeans and that’s all, my friend. I need to confirm with them today, so I’ll appreciate it if you get back to me ASAP.
Thanks,
Len
- - -
Dilvan shook his head. He’d been phasing modeling out of his life. He was torn with it actually, no sure if he should continue with his modeling career or give it all up. He decided to reply to Len:
TO: Len Phillips
FROM: Dilvan Alexander
SUBJECT: New Gig in the Windy City!
Len, appreciate the offer, but I’ll pass.
Thanks,
D.
- - -
“Dilvan,” Colin said, patting Dilvan on the shoulder before he sat.
“Hello, Father. How are you?”
“I’m okay,” he drawled out in a husky, exhausted grunt. “Glad to be off for a few days...that’s for sure.”
“Here you are,” the waitress said, carefully placing a cup of coffee in front of Dilvan.
Dilvan looked at her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Looking at Colin now, she asked, “Would you like coffee as we
ll, sir?”
“Yes, please. Decaf.”
The waitress looked at Dilvan.
“My Father and I like the same things,” Dilvan told her.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll get another cup coming right up.”
When she walked away, Colin said, “So how have you been, son?”
Dilvan sighed. He’d definitely been better. “Well, I single-handedly ruined my life and Mother hates me. There you have it in a nutshell.”
Colin grinned, then coughed a little afterwards. “Nobody hates you, Dilvan.”
“Don’t try to make me feel better, father. I already know what the family thinks of me. Mom doesn’t come over every Tuesday like she used to. I have to beg her to come by...and don’t get me started on Heshan and Prasad...especially Heshan.”
“Let me ask you something, D.”