Ramsey

by Tina Martin

  “Yep…they’re definitely brothers,” Gemma said smiling.

  “Overall, how do you like being married?” Gianna asked.

  “It’s new,” Gemma mumbled with a mouth full of salad. “I like it because I love Royal so much. It’s still an adjustment, though. I never thought I’d get married, especially so young. And it takes a huge amount of trust to let a man lead you in the right direction, you know. Do you get what I’m saying?”

  Gianna nodded as she ate her salad.

  “How did we end up with such strong, amazing men?” Gemma asked.

  “You ask the question like that’s a bad thing.”

  “No, not bad. I’m asking because I still can’t believe it. I’m married, you’re married and I feel like we could have ended up with anyone but we have these intelligent, confident, successful strong men.”

  “That reminds me of something Geraldine said today…said she was with my father because he had money and he was going to be her way out of poverty. Then when he lost his job, she left him and moved on to the next man and so on and so forth. It got me thinking that even if Ramsey wasn’t a brilliant architect—I don’t care if he was a mailman or a pizza delivery guy—I’d love him just the same. His money was never a gauge as to whether I’d give him the time of day, but in the back of my mind, I think Geraldine looks at it that way—like we got it made because we married these strong men. Wealthy men.”

  “Yeah, well who cares what she thinks. We’ve had to be strong all of our lives, thanks to her, with no one to lean on but each other. I did more leaning on you than you on me,” Gemma admitted, “So maybe these men are our knights in shining armor, coming to our rescue.”

  “Just when I thought you’d given up the Hallmark channel…” Gianna took a sip of lemonade.

  “Hey, have you chosen a name for the baby yet?”

  “No. Ramsey thinks we should ask the family for name suggestions at the baby shower.”

  “That’s a good idea. Any word from Bernadette on when it’s going to be?”

  “She said she would let me know at this month’s Sunday dinner.”

  “Cool.”

  “Are you and Royal going to make it?”

  “Of course. I love our family dinners. I love being a part of a family, period. When I would watch these family-oriented movies, I used to dream of a time when I would sit at a large table and share dinner with a family. I love it.”

  “Me, too.” Gianna finished her lemonade. “So, what needs to be done at your place?”

  “Not much. Royal decided to hire an interior decorator so I wasn’t stressed out about anything.”

  “Nice.”

  “I do, however, need to come up with a color for the family room and pick out a sectional sofa. Maybe you can help me with that.”

  Gianna beamed with joy. “Sure, I can help with that. This is going to be so much fun helping my whittle sister decorate her house.”

  “Oh gosh, Gianna. Give it a rest with the whittle stuff.”

  “Nope. You know you love it.”

  Gemma narrowed her eyes. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  “Sure do.” Gianna took out her wallet and slid cash in the check billfold to cover lunch and the tip. “Let’s get out of here. I need to be home in time for dinner.”

  “We practically live in the same neighborhood. You have plenty of time to get home for dinner.”

  “Yes, but I’m making Ramsey’s favorite cupcakes for dessert tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s what it is. Gotcha. All right. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 4

  Judy’s knuckles pattered on Ramsey’s office door before she opened it and said, “Sir, Mr. Copeland is here from Glasgow Industries.”

  “See him in please,” Ramsey told her. He was already prepared and ready for Mr. Copeland to arrive. Royal was there reviewing the portfolio with him again and he still had Glasgow Industries’ website up on his laptop.

  When Judy opened the door to invite Mr. Copeland inside, Ramsey walked up to the man, gave him a firm handshake and looked him in the eye – something he did to help him get a feel for his comfortability level in working with a new supplier. A company was only as good as the people running it – didn’t matter how good the products were. If he got a bad read from Mr. Copeland, he’d keep it moving. Fortunately, he got a good vibe from the man and he gave a single nod of approval to Royal, letting him know that the guy was okay to deal with.

  “Mr. Copeland, this is my brother Royal St. Claire who happens to be the troubleshooter for this fine organization.”

  “Nice to meet you in person, Royal. I believe we spoke briefly over the phone.”

  “We did, and it’s nice to meet you as well,” Royal said shaking the man’s hand.

  “Have a seat,” Ramsey told the guy. “Can I get you some water or anything else to drink?”

  “Water will be good right about now.”

  Ramsey walked over to the wet bar and filled a glass with ice. Then he took a bottle of Voss from the fridge and walked it over to the conference table.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Copeland said.

  “You’re welcome.” Ramsey sat down. “So, getting right to it, St. Claire Architects has a contract for a new construction in Uptown. Royal visited Paris to study the architecture as well as find a supplier who could meet our needs for specific building materials. Having a supplier in the states will be a huge convenience for this project.”

  “Yes. As I’m sure you’re aware, we have a local branch located in Norfolk, Virginia.”

  “I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I saw that,” Ramsey said. “Initially, I thought we’d have to procure everything overseas.”

  “Not at all, Mr. St. Claire. Now, granted there may be some design elements we may not carry in our Norfolk facility. Those will have to be ordered directly from our main facility in France.”

  “Understandable,” Royal said. “That would also mean that we are proactive about which design elements we may have to order in advance so there’s no lag in construction.”

  “I agree,” Ramsey said.

  “Such being the case, how would we handle storage of these special order items?” Royal asked. “I suppose we could leave them at the site if push came to shove.”

  “We can hold these items at our warehouse and ship them to you as needed.”

  “Beautiful,” Royal said.

  Ramsey chuckled. “Beautiful, indeed.”

  “Look, we’ve done our research on St. Claire Architects,” Mr. Copeland said. “I’ve seen the article in Architectural Digest that featured St. Claire Architects. You and your brothers are trailblazers in the design-to-construction business. It’s good to see a firm that has the all-in-one package and you do it flawlessly.”

  “Thank you,” Ramsey said. “It’s all hard work, no play.”

  Mr. Copeland chuckled. “I bet.”

  Ramsey glanced at his phone.

  Carson: I called Gianna to check up on her. She confirmed she’s at her sister’s

  Ramsey: Are you sure?

  Carson: Yes, Sir.

  Didn’t Royal tell me Gemma was at work today? Ramsey’s brows knitted as he glanced up seeing Royal and Mr. Copeland looking at him. How was Gianna at Gemma’s if Gemma was at work?

  “Mr. Copeland, if you have time, I would like to go over the preliminary requirements for the project. That way, I can get an idea of the products you already have versus the kind of items we’d have to order.”

  “Of course,” he responded.

  Ramsey stood up. “Just give me a few minutes. Royal, let me speak to you privately for a moment please.”

  Royal looked confused at first, but then said, “Sure.” He followed Ramsey out into the hallway just outside of the office. “What’s up?”

  “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but didn’t you say Gemma was at work today?”

  “Yes,” Royal said on high alert now thinking something had happened to his wife. “Why? What’
s wrong?”

  Ramsey mused over his answer. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Ram, you pulled me out of a meeting with a supplier, something you never do, to ask me about my wife. Level with me.”

  Ramsey shook his head. Frustrated. “Gianna told me she was going to be with Gemma today but how can she when Gemma’s at work?”

  “Gem got off work at noon. She called to tell me she was meeting Gianna for lunch.”

  More confusion disturbed Ramsey because, while that may have been the case, it still didn’t explain where Gianna was this morning. “Okay. That explains it,” he said just to end Royal’s curiosity.

  “Is everything okay on the home front?” Royal asked.

  “Yes. I’m just trying to keep tabs on Gianna.”

  “You could just call her.”

  “I could…”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yes. She’s fine,” Ramsey said. “I’ve been extra vigilant since she’s been pregnant. I don’t want to keep disturbing her throughout the day with phone calls every time I think something is wrong. At the same time, I’m always worried about her.”

  “That’s understandable,” Royal said, “But Gianna’s a big girl. She’s carried the world on her shoulders once upon a time.”

  A reminiscent smile touched Ramsey’s lips. “Yes, she did.”

  Royal glanced at his watch. “Hey, I’ll take Copeland around if you want to check in with Gianna. I can pull Regal into a conference room with us to go over the materials.”

  “That would be great. Thanks, Royal.”

  When Ramsey and Royal stepped back inside of Ramsey’s office, Ramsey explained the change in plans. Royal went ahead and left the office with Mr. Copeland, beginning to give him details about the Uptown project.

  Ramsey closed the door to his office to call Gianna. He still had her name stored under ‘Cupcake’ in his contacts.

  She answered, “Hey, Ramsey.”

  “Hey, you,” Ramsey said walking away from the door, headed for the windows. “I’m feeling some kind of way over here.”

  “Why?”

  He could hear her smiling. “You didn’t call me this morning to say hi or anything. You were asleep when I left.”

  “I’m sorry, Ramsey. I don’t want my man feeling neglected but you know I hate disturbing you at work.”

  “And you know I don’t mind it. I really don’t, Gianna. I’m not saying that just because. I mean it, baby.”

  “I know.”

  “How’s my little girl?”

  “She’s fine.”

  Ramsey glanced at the clock to see the time was thirty minutes after two. “Have you eaten?”

  “Yes. I had a salad and drank some lemonade.”

  “Did you take your prenatal vitamins?”

  “I did.”

  “What are you up to now?”

  “I’m at Gemma’s house helping her decide on paint colors. She says hi by the way.”

  “Tell her I said hi.” He listened as she did so and then asked yet another question. “So, you’ve been there all day?”

  “Not the whole day,” she responded and left it at that.

  Ramsey instantly knew she was purposely withholding her whereabouts. He didn’t want to pry it out of her, but it was looking like he’d have to. It would have to wait until later, though, when he could talk to her face-to-face. Read her.

  “Well, I gotta go, sweetie. I have some pressing matters here that I need to take care of. I’ll see you when I get home, okay.”

  “Okay, Ramsey.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He slid his phone back into his pocket, shook his head in confusion and left the office, looking for Royal and Mr. Copeland.

  Chapter 5

  Watching Carson cook was better than relaxing to a movie while eating over-buttered popcorn with her feet propped up, Gianna concluded. His buttermilk fried chicken tasted better than any chicken she’d ever had at a restaurant and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on a few pieces.

  Waiting for some cupcakes to cool before frosting, she said, “If I watch you long enough, I’d know your recipe, Carson.”

  The old man looked amused. “You think so, madam?”

  “Yes. I can already smell the spices you used.”

  “Which are?”

  “Hmm…let’s see.” She sniffed the aroma in the kitchen. “Paprika, onion powder, salt and pepper—of course—garlic powder…maybe some chili powder…”

  “You’re on the right track but there’s a lot more than that.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and then there’s that secret ingredient that only I possess, madam.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “It’s called, the magic touch.”

  Gianna laughed. “Is that right?”

  “Indeed. You have that touch with those cupcakes of yours but with this chicken, I am the king.”

  Gianna laughed some more. “So, in other words, I need to stay in my lane.”

  “You’re a quick learner, madam.” Carson chuckled.

  “Okay I gotcha, Carson.” Gianna began icing the dozen butter pecan cupcakes that she’d made Ramsey for dessert. He didn’t request any – she just wanted to make some for him. Because she loved him and seeing him happy pleased her.

  “Say, what kind of operation are we running up in here?”

  Gianna’s face brightened in surprise when she heard Ramsey’s voice. “Ramsey!” She rose to her tiptoes and still it was a struggle to get her arms around his neck, but when she finally did, Ramsey swooped down and took a kiss – a deep, toe-curling one that left her moaning – her love sounds harmonizing with the sizzle of frying chicken.

  “How are you my love?” he asked after he’d gotten enough – well, enough for now.

  “I’m good—making your favorite dessert.”

  “You’re my favorite dessert,” he said then pressed his lips to hers again, briefly this time. He glanced over at Carson. “You got it smelling good in here, Carson.”

  “Always, Sir.”

  Ramsey turned his attention to Gianna again when he said, “Hold that enthusiasm. I’m going to go up and change. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  He proceeded up the stairs arriving at the second level where he keyed in the entry code for the third-floor master bedroom suite. Gianna’s whereabouts this morning still nagged him. He wasn’t the kind of guy that needed to know every move his wife made but he at least wanted the assurance that she would be where she said she would. What if there was an emergency? What if she needed him?

  After changing into sweats and a T-shirt that showed off a portion of his hairy chest, Ramsey jogged downstairs and asked, “How much longer before dinner’s ready, Carson?”

  “About a half hour, Sir.”

  “Okay. Gianna, if you need me, I’ll be in the office for a few.”

  “Okay.”

  Ramsey sauntered there with Gianna still heavy on his mind. Sitting behind his desk now, he slid on his glasses and logged into his workstation. Regal had sent him a list of construction materials and he needed to confirm the accuracy of it before getting official quotes from Glasgow so they could know what kind of prices to expect. Even still, he found it difficult to focus, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to until he had a real talk with Gianna over dinner.

  * * *

  Midway through dinner, after she’d had three pieces of buttermilk chicken, Ramsey decided to come right out and ask, “Gianna, where did you go when you left the house this morning?”

  Gianna smiled and playfully narrowed her eyes. “Why are you always trying to keep tabs on me?”

  “Not always.” Ramsey took a sip of red wine. He set the glass on the table and continued, “But today I want to know where you were.”

  The smile fell from her face when she realized he was serious. He had that I-ain’t-playing expression on his face – a look like he was just about to mak
e some important business decision, but this evening, she was his business. “Why?”

  “Why does it matter why?” Ramsey asked, testily. “Just tell me where you were. Simple as that.”

  Gianna took a sip of water. Dang. She’d been caught, yet again. Could she do anything without him knowing about it?

  “The fact that you’re taking so long to answer me is really starting to bother me, Gianna.”

  “That’s only because I don’t want to tell you where I was.”

  “Is there a reason for that?” he asked calmly, staring at her.

  She looked back at him, held his gaze for a long time then said, “There is. I knew you would be angry and—”

  Uninterested in finishing dinner, he set his plate aside, looked at Gianna and said, “Tell me.”

  Gianna sighed. “Okay. Um…I met Geraldine at Jetton Park this morning.” She saw the moment his eyes darkened. Saw the storm brewing. Disappointment building.

  “You met your mother at the park and you kept this from me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you knew I’d be angry,” he said repeating her reasoning.

  “Yes, and now you are. I can feel your mood changing already.”

  “I asked you last night what your plans were for today. You said you were going to be at Gemma’s.”

  “I was at Gemma’s—”

  “Yes, but not the whole day, obviously, and if you met up with your mother at the park, I’m sure this is something you two had already prearranged. Yet, you failed to let me in on those plans. Can you see why this is frustrating for me, Gianna, or is it lost on you?”

  His glare thickened at her non-reply. She just sat there, rubbing her temples and avoiding eye contact with him.

  “Gianna?”

  “No,” she finally answered. “It’s not lost on me, but just know that it’s really frustrating for me to have to plan stuff behind your back, Ramsey. Look what happens when you find out. You look furious right now.”