by Pat Simmons
Despite being a die-hard football fanatic, Tyson’s attention strayed to the couple more times than he could count. In the midst of the trash-talking testosterones, Reggie and Tracee seemed to be in their own private place. Witnessing their harmony sparked a yearning in Tyson.
He hadn’t dated seriously since the previous summer and the few casual dinners he shared had been less than memorable. The women had been pretty, professional and…hmmm. Tyson couldn’t remember much more about them. Unlike Monica—Tyson held his breath. Where did she come from?
He shook the dust balls out of his head. He glued his eyes to the Chiefs’ running back at the forty-yard line, then thirty, twenty, racing for the touchdown. Three Patriots were gaining speed until a flag was called on Kansas City for holding. “What!” Tyson balled his fists as Jimmy gave out fist bumps to his buddies.
Monica’s game face resurfaced. He closed his eyes. Why in the middle of the most important game was she taunting him? She agreed to the truce, so why couldn’t he dismiss her?
“Touchdown!” Patriots sympathizers shouted and leaped, singing, “We are the champions…”
Their antics slapped0 him back to reality. Tyson hadn’t realized he had zoned out, missing the Patriots barely score a touchdown.
Maybe he should’ve attended church before the game’s festivities to clear his head of all distractions, especially the pretty one with soulful eyes. She might not be there with him, but she had commandeered his pastime.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Although Monica wasn’t into sports, she sat through the Super Bowl in Alexander’s honor while he was deployed. Somehow, her father knew how to tune out her mother’s chatter.
“You need to start thinking about getting married,” Ollie wormed her agenda into the game every time a penalty was called.
Like I don’t. Monica sighed. “Mom, I think most women dream about their wedding day from the time they’re little girls, but I need a groom to pull it off. Currently, there are none in sight.” Although she said it in a nonchalant manner, she would rather cook for a husband than Veronica. Yet, Monica held out hope her egg bank would hold her deposits at least for another decade.
“That’s because my shotgun has scared them off,” her father stated without taking his eyes off the screen.
She and her mother chuckled, but Monica knew the man who wanted to marry her would have to get George Wyatt’s stamp of approval.
#
On Monday, the staff held a pow-wow in the conference and hashed out details for the black hair store chain campaign.
Monica had taken the lead, passing out her analysis sheets. “I identified ten minority neighborhoods that don’t have a beauty supply store within walking distance, which means they drive for what they want. The billboards in the zip codes I highlighted in yellow would target those demographics.”
When Reggie had congratulated her, Monica smiled; her mind played tricks on her and she blinked, after she imagined she saw a slight wink coming from Tyson. Men weren’t generous with that gesture unless they were flirting. This was a business setting and since the truce, Tyson was the epitome of professionalism toward her. When she eyed him again, his attention was elsewhere. Had to be her imagination.
Solae took the floor next. “I’m envisioning adhering vinyl posters on the back of buses with an African American model with a head full of natural hair like Monica.” She paused as everyone glanced her way. “The model could have an alluring smile with a curled finger—”
“Yes!” Dennis interrupted. His eyes were wide with excitement. “Add the caption: Follow Me to Freeman Brothers Beauty Supply.” He turned and lifted his hand.
Solae gave him a high five.
“Sounds like a winner,” Reggie said and they all agreed.
So for the entire week, everybody had been crazy busy trying to fine-tune the campaign. Monica tried not to think about the upcoming Valentine’s Day, but on Friday, the day was hard to ignore when she arrived at work and flowers had hijacked the counter in the lobby.
Mrs. Coates popped up, grinning from ear to ear. “My kids and grandkids,” she explained without Monica asking.
“Lucky you.”
Continuing on to her workstation, Monica couldn’t help but notice the large bouquet of red roses waiting on their intern’s desk who had yet to arrive. Lucky Jennifer. Odd though, was Solae’s work station where no flowers were in sight. Monica assumed her friend would probably get a delivery sometime today. Speaking on the phone, Solae waved.
Monica dared not have a pity party. It’s not like she got flowers every Valentine’s Day, but she had plans. She and Veronica would brave the lines at Crown Candy, the historic St. Louis eatery, and purchase a pound of white chocolate-covered strawberries. Later tonight, they would watch romantic movies and gorge out on carryout and their treats.
At her desk, Monica got to work. Her mind was caught up in the numbers when Solae peeked around her cubicle. “Break time. Mrs. Coates usually has Valentine’s cookies or cupcakes delivered. C’mon, let’s pig out.”
While in the kitchen, sampling the treats, Monica saw their intern heading toward them, smiling and carrying a small balloon bouquet.
“From my boyfriend,” Jennifer offered.
“I already sent my lady one.” Reggie nodded, seemingly pleased with himself.
The other men mumbled dinner plans, but Monica didn’t hear anything coming from Tyson as others filled out of the kitchen, leaving Monica and Solae to sample the treats.
“Mommie…Mommie.”
She and Solae spun around to see a fireball running their way. Solae’s daughter latched on to her legs. Two older boys trailed behind their sister. Each child carried a single rose. “Aww.” Solae rewarded each one with loud kisses on their cheeks. The boys blushed. “Monica, you haven’t met my sons. Harrison is six and Brandon, eight.”
They were adorable now, but when maturity kicked in, they would be handsome like their father who watched nearby with sparkles in his eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand.
Blinking away moisture, Monica fought back jealousy, not so much of Solae, but what her coworker had: a family of her own.
Okay, this is becoming overwhelming. Maybe Monica shouldn’t have broken off her engagement with Daren last year. She could be a mother by now. Then again, her ex never gazed at her with so much love in his eyes. She turned to leave and give the family some privacy when Solae stopped her.
“I want you to meet my handsome husband, Hershel.”
The man actually blushed and he extended his hand for a shake. “That’s the way she always introduces me. I think I’m going to change it on my birth certificate.”
Monica smiled and thought, Why? Your wife is telling the truth. “So Hershey is named after her father?” She noted the pride on Hershel’s face as confirmation.
“Actually, her legal name is Madison, but I’ve been calling her Hershey since day one,” Solae explained as her husband pulled her closer. “You’ll meet more handsome hunks later this month at the Black Firefighters Ball, so get to shopping, girl.”
“Babe, I’ve got to get the boys back to school. This was their idea to surprise their mother.” He kissed her cheek to the boys’ protests. Tyson and Reggie strolled by and stopped to greet Solae’s husband, shaking his hand. Monica used their appearance to disappear to her private space. This Valentine’s Day may turn out to be the most emotional yet.
At her desk, she reached for a tissue and dabbed her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. “I’ve got the car and now the job. God, can I have what Solae has, too?”
No good thing will I withhold to those who love Me, was whispered in her ear.
Was that God talking to her? What did He mean? Monica felt she loved God as much as the next person, but while He let Solae enjoy a perfect life, what man would want a woman who would freak out at a moment’s notice? Even God didn’t have an answer.
#
Seeing the longing on Monica’s face as she watche
d Solae and Hershel’s exchange made Tyson’s heart slam against his chest, dip to his stomach, and bounce back again. She tried to mask it when she hurried away, but he caught a glimpse of the sadness in her eyes. Suddenly, they were back on the highway and Tyson found himself in protective mode.
While conversing with Hershel, his mind was on Monica. If he didn’t fight off these emotions she yanked in his heart, she would have him wrapped around his fingers. That was not good on so many fronts; for one, he didn’t date in the workplace, and she had unresolved issues.
Tyson slipped back into his office and closed the door. He gritted his teeth and balled his fists. What was going on with him? He pounded his desk, wanting an immediate answer.
By the end of the day, it didn’t go unnoticed Monica was the only female employee who didn’t receive a floral delivery. Among the four male employees, Tyson was the sole one who didn’t have a special someone. So by default, he and Monica were two peas in a pod.
Growing up, Tyson’s father had taught him to give his mother candy and gifts, but the only man who would give Earline flowers would be her husband. Tyson smiled, remembering Craig Graham patting his chest during one of many of their father-and-son chats. “When you get a wife, always take her flowers.”
Reggie stuck his head into Tyson’s office, pulling him back into the present. “Heading to the airport.” He waved.
“Earn those frequent flyer miles, bro. Tell Tracee hi. I haven’t seen her in ages,” Tyson joked.
“Hater.” Reggie laughed and closed the door.
Maybe he was, but before Tyson left the office, he had one more thing to do. What was it about Monica that made him want to be her rescuer? Picking up the phone, he called a nearby florist.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Monday morning, Monica watched Mrs. Coates make a grand entrance into the kitchen. “Flowers for you,” she sang.
“Me?” She patted her chest and squinted at the red roses blooming from a translucent vase. The contrasting colors had a wow factor. There was no one in the room except her, but still she repeated, “For me?”
The woman nodded. Her eyes twinkled with suspicion.
“Do you know who they’re from?” Monica steadied her hand to rest her glass of water on the counter, then reached for the vase.
“Now, I would have to open the envelope to know that, and I’m too old to be in a federal prison for tampering with U.S. Mail.”
Unless the flowers arrived through the mail, the woman was safe. Of course, Monica didn’t want to give her any reason to be nosy.
“You’ve been holding back on us.” Mrs. Coates giggled. “I was about to set you up with my grandson. He’s good-looking—if I may say so myself—has a union job at a warehouse, and recently moved out of my daughter’s house.”
Recently moved out of his mother’s house. “How old is he?” she asked out of curiosity, not interest.
“Turns thirty-seven in December. He was a Christmas baby,” she boasted. “Well, you think about it. Kenny’s never been married and doesn’t have any children.”
Right. Nothing to consider. Monica nodded and waited for the woman to leave. She ripped open the envelope in her effort to get to the card. You’re a Special Valentine.
Aww. Her heart pounded, accepting the compliment. Turning the card over, she found no signature. Odd. “A secret admirer?” she mumbled. That hadn’t happened since second grade.
Fingering the petals, she closed her eyes and leaned in to inhale the fragrance. As her lids fluttered open, she got lost in the vibrant color of red. Who sent them? Why not on Valentine’s Day? She had no answers. Too bad Solae had taken Monday off, so she wasn’t around to help her solve the puzzle.
Twirling around, Monica was startled to see Tyson standing in the doorway. The suspicious look he gave her made her feel like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced from her to the flowers. “Nice.”
He didn’t have to know the sender was a mystery to her. “Somebody likes me,” Monica said casually.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Indeed. He has good taste.” With a smug expression, he walked away to answer a call on his cell.
After scooping up her vase, Monica almost glided to her desk. She had the perfect spot for them. At the moment, the sender didn’t matter. The gesture made her feel cherished and not forgotten.
Whoever sent them had no idea they had made her day. She rearranged the vase three times until she was satisfied its location had a perfect view of the sun.
She called Veronica next. “Hey,” she said in a hushed voice when her friend answered. “You’re not going to believe this, but guess what I got?” She grinned.
“A raise!”
“Nope.” Monica didn’t have the patience to tell her to keep guessing. “Flowers!”
“Flowers? Who are they from?”
Spinning her chair around, Monica faced the window. “I have no idea who sent them. Maybe Daddy or Alexander. Right now, I don’t care if they’re from Mrs. Coates’s grandson.”
“Who?”
“Never mind.”
“Well, all I know is your brother better not be sending flowers and not include me.” She hmphed.
“You two broke up again,” Monica reminded her.
“Doesn’t matter. Flowers are a girl’s best friend.”
Monica giggled. “Ah, I think that’s diamonds.”
“Starts with the flowers,” Veronica said, then became quiet. “Seriously, you have no clue who sent them?”
Instead of answering, Monica closed her eyes and took a deep breath to enjoy the fragrance. “I may have to go home because I don’t know if I can get any work done today.” She rocked back in her chair. “Girl, they’re gorgeous. Here, let me take a picture…” When she spun around, Tyson was standing there. She jumped. If she could slid under her desk, she would have. She didn’t care if he’d heard she didn’t know who sent them. Monica was concerned about the “she wasn’t going to get any work done today” part.
“Hey, let me call you back.” She ended the call and folded her hands. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were waiting for me. Yes?”
His brown eyes seemed to be dancing in merriment. What part was the source of his amusement? He was about to push her vase aside, but Monica shooed him away. “No! I’ll move it.”
He lifted his hands as if he was being held up. “I wanted to go over this client with you. Unless you plan to go home for some reason.” He shrugged and snickered.
Monica scrunched her face. “You heard that?” Now would be a good time to die of embarrassment and they could bury her with the roses. “Busted.”
“Yes, you are.” When he laughed, she released her signature bark that blended in with his. “We’re good, but you can’t go home. I have questions about the demographics on this.” He waved a file in his hand.
Relieved and relaxed, Monica smiled as she moved her vase. It felt good to laugh with him. He waited while she tapped on her keyboard to bring up the spreadsheet.
The musky scent of Tyson’s cologne arrested her senses when he peered over her shoulder at the screen. It was like a tranquilizer, slowing her movements.
Fighting the druggy feeling, she excused herself to the ladies’ room. After using the facility, she washed her hands and stared at her reflection. What was going on with her? Her fingers felt numb and her heart raced. Was Tyson’s closeness triggering a panic attack? Grinning, Monica shook her head. That wouldn’t be a bad tradeoff from the other one.
#
Discussing a report with Monica had been a ruse. Curiosity drove him to her desk to see it decorated with flowers like Solae and Jennifer’s.
Her blush had been priceless. Once he returned to his office, Tyson couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face like a rash. He didn’t mean to sneak up on Monica, but he had to know if the flowers had any effect on her. The stunt he pulled had cost him. Tyson Graham had crossed the line in employer and employee co
de of conduct and he had no idea how to keep himself from breaking the rules again.
CHAPTER NINE
A few days later, Monica couldn’t believe she had lost track of time crunching the data for the State Education project. When she realized the sun was setting, she shut down her computer, grabbed her things, and left.
Inside her car, she shivered from the cold, so she started the engine to get the heat going. As she backed out, the hairs on her body tingled, alerting her of an impending sense of danger. The sensation wasn’t overpowering, but a hint a panic attack was on the sidelines, waiting to pounce on her.
Monica wasn’t under any kind of stress, so she ignored the tease. She took off to exit the parking lot when her hands began to shake and her breathing became labored. Maybe, this time, she was having a heart attack. “God, why me?”
Closing her eyes, she rested her head on the steering wheel and coaxed herself to calm down. She tried to remember the breathing exercises Veronica had advised, and praying as Solae had suggested. Although her mind was jumbled, Monica managed, “God, please help me.” She had to get home, even if it meant taking the back roads.
A tap on her window made her look up. It was déjà vu. Tyson was standing there with his intense stare. No, not again.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, but not convincingly. She just wanted this moment to pass and for him to go away.
“Open the door, Monica,” he ordered. With very little fight left in her, she complied.
“I can either give you a lift home in my SUV—”
She shook her head. “I’m good.”
“That’s debatable.” Twisting his mouth, Tyson seemed annoyed. “I’m going to back up, so you can park your car.”
“Huh?” Her brain was shutting down because she couldn’t comprehend.