She peered down at him. “Now, why haven’t you asked her out again?”
“Because even though we work in the same facility, Sonya manages to be either locked in her vault or out to lunch. She won’t answer any calls or text messages from me either.”
“What’s the problem? Go to her a few minutes before she takes lunch and wait.”
He glanced up at his sister. “Really, Jessie, I have a PhD and you don’t think I could come up with that on my own? She keeps changing her lunch hour.”
She slapped a hand on her hip. “Well, Dr. Hayden, how are all your bright ideas working out for you?”
Snarling at his sister, he reached for the last pot and put it away. Rising, he asked, “So, what do you suggest oh Relationship Guru?” He gave her a mocking bow.
“Keep it up and I’m going to call in your mother.” She poked him in the shoulder as he came up.
“Did you stop in to help me or threaten me?” He loved his mother and one thing he knew about Ida Hayden was that she cared about Sonya a lot. His mother had been the one that berated him about going to the Rainforest instead of finding Sonya.
However, then he’d been hard headed and believing Sonya’s words. They had been young and had rushed into marriage not knowing what they were getting themselves into. He’d let her go and drowned himself in his degree to mask the pain of loss.
“To help. First your apartment then your marriage.”
“Ex marriage.”
Jessie smiled and shrugged. “Semantics. She’s still your wife in your heart and that’s where it counts.”
He hoped his love for Sonya counted for something even though she was playing hard to get.
At his refrigerator getting out a can of soda, Jessie frowned at him. “How do you plan to feed your company if you have no food?”
“Take out.” He opened the narrow drawer beside the refrigerator. “Here are all the local places that deliver, take your pick.”
She fanned out the thirty different menus. “This is ridiculous. You know—”
“I need a wife. Got it.” He shook his head as he took some of the empty boxes out of the kitchen.
An hour later, the kitchen was in order and he and his sister had made a space at his small round table to eat their Chinese food.
“How long is the seminar your teaching in Atlanta?” he asked, digging into his container of egg fou yung with disposable chopsticks.
“A week. It’s the annual youth enrichment training. Counselors and teachers of various college youth programs will be in attendance, as well as summer hiring managers. It keeps everyone on the same page. There will be a semi-annual one in April right before at risk youth applications are due in from high school counselors.”
His sister had driven down from Lynchburg, Virginia where she lived with her husband and three children.
“Is Gary going to be alright with the rug rats alone until you return? Or did you send mom to him?”
“Uh, no.” She speared a chunk of dripping sweet and sour chicken with a plastic fork. “My husband will be fine. I taught him how to cook simple food with the first child so he wouldn’t kill them off the times I had to be away.”
“Well, if he can write software programs, I’m sure he had no problem following all the instructions you left him.”
She laughed hard. “You know me so well.”
He winked and joined in on the laughter. “Like mother like daughter.”
Jessie tossed a handful of take-out napkins at him.
They littered around him on the table and floor. “Really, Jess? Now that’s just something else we’re going to have to clean up.”
“After we finish eating, I’ll pick up the napkins and you take care of unpacking the bathroom.” She broke a part and egg roll.
Their teasing and laughter went on through the night as they made his house look lived in and presentable before they crashed late in the night.
“Where did you find pancake mix?” He frowned at the pan the next morning when he made his way into the kitchen after brushing his teeth and washing his face in his newly decorated guest bathroom. “I don’t recall having any.”
“You didn’t. I went out and got mix along with a few other items. You were sleep like the dead on the couch.” Jessie continued to stir the batter that had plump fresh blueberries in it.
My favorite.
“You’re the best.” He crossed to his sister at the stove and kissed her on the cheek. “Can I keep you?”
“No.” She hip checked him away from her as she smiled. “What you can do is get the table set and start squeezing oranges.”
“For the pancakes?”
“For juice, bug-boy.” His sister had called him that since his parents found him in the backyard one morning in his Spiderman pajamas digging in the ground after a rainstorm collecting warms.
His mother had been angry with him for getting muddy. Their father, Xavier, a general manager at a factory, had taken him out after breakfast to buy all the supplies he needed to set up a tank in his room.
He looked around for oranges, when he didn’t see them he went to the refrigerator. “I have oranges, apples, pears, lunch meat and cheese.” Glancing at his sister he smiled. “Do I smell bacon?”
“You do.” She poured a ladleful of mix onto the flat skillet then went to the microwave when it beeped. She pulled out a tray with crispy pieces of pork. “Now, grab those oranges and start squeezing.”
“I’m really going to kidnap you.” He set the bag of oranges on the counter before grabbing a knife and glasses.
“No, what you’re going to do is start to court Sonya.”
“How, when she’s purposely being elusive. I don’t want to show up at her house again and invade her privacy. I want her to feel safe at home, not like any day I’m going to come there.”
They’d had a great time at brunch that day and even though Sonya hadn’t said anything about him not coming by again, he knew she’d been uncomfortable with him at her house. He saw it in her nervous gestures when he got there and dropped her off. He wanted her to want him to be there. To invite him over and into her life.
Jessie took out the first pancake and set it on a plate beside the stove. “Parker, women like to be romanced, seduced.” She added another scoop of raw mix into the pan. “You know where she works and where she lives. Send her some things like flowers, cupcakes, wine and sexy notes with poems on it.”
“I can’t write poetry.” His mind went to invertebrates not rhythmic words. He finished squeezing the seventh orange into the glasses, shocked by how little juice one orange produced.
She pointed the spatula at him. “Then find a poetry book. Make her come to you, bug-boy. She fell for you once, she will do it again. You just have to remind her of it.” Jessie flipped the pancake. “Unless she’s found someone else.”
He snarled at his sister as he recalled Daryl Marcs. The attention the Councilman paid to her the night of the masquerade.
Squaring off at him, Jessie folded her arms over her chest. “Even if she does have someone else, she’s not married or engaged. So, if you want her, win her.”
Taking everything his sister said to heart, he began to plot and plan his strategy as he had when he used to catch and study elusive nocturnal arthropods.
“I want Sonya back,” he declared.
~ML~
“This was at the admissions desk for you.” Simeon entered her office carrying a long box.
Sonya took a moment to save the work on her travel plans in the company system before taking the box from him. “Where did they come from?”
“I’m going to assume a florist.” her assistant tossed out.
“Ha, ha. You know I didn’t hire you for your jokes.” She arched an eyebrow at him, but smiled. Simeon was a sweet young man and had a way of making the work environment better. “I meant…did they say who left them.”
“Stacey received them and the only thing she knew was a delivery man brought them
. Like a messenger, not an actual florist personnel. You know nosey Stacey was a little annoyed by it.”
“I’m sure.”
The clerk wanted any hot guy she saw and to be in everyone’s business.
Frowning, Sonya set the package down on her desk then stood over it to open it. It wasn’t uncommon for her to get things delivered to the museum from people all over the world that thought they had some authentic African American art. Usually, she had spoken to them by phone or email before they just sent it. Being a curator was like being one of those reality show art dealers “This is a fake,” “This is worthless,” “This is actually an authentic piece long lost”. By the shape of the box she was expecting it to be some kind of spear or staff.
Pulling at the twine fashioned into a bow, she released the tie before drawing it away. She removed the top next and set it to the side.
She gasped.
“Wow. Someone likes you.”
“All green roses.” She couldn’t believe how lovely they were. The flowers were a vibrant, dark green, almost emerald in color and the stems were thick and long with full almost palm sized leaves adorning them.
“Why green? It isn’t March.”
“It’s my favorite color.” She couldn’t resist smelling them. “I love roses.”
“I’m not sure if there’s a vase big enough to hold them. Does the card say who sent them, because I need to talk to the person and get some sent to LaTasha. They would get me boyfriend points.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Shaking her head, she kept her laugh in. No need to encourage him. She picked up the small white envelope at the base of the stems. “You’re supposed to get a woman flowers because you want to make her happy, not to get some action.”
He shrugged. “Women and men just will disagree on that point.”
When she slipped the card out, she still had no clue who sent them. “I hope these brighten your day and bring a smile to your face.”
The flowers had done that.
Flipping the card over she saw it was blank on the back, no signature anywhere.
“Who do you think sent them?”
“Councilman Marcs most likely. I’m going with him to a function tomorrow night.” She shifted the box to the side of her desk and keeping the top off so she could look at them until she got off and took them home. She would have to stop at a store to get a big vase.
“Are you two dating finally? I know he’s had a thing for you for a while.”
“No. Not dating. He needed a plus one to the symphony and I didn’t have anything else planned.” Before Simeon could ask anything else, she said, “I think we both have work calling our name.”
“Sure do.” He gave her a two-finger salute from his temple and headed out.
When she was alone, she lifted one of the roses from the box and brought it toward her. Burying her nose amongst the petals she smelled the sweet, cloying scent. She loved roses. As simple and traditional as they were, they always did something to her to get them. Her mind brought up an image of someone standing before her with a rose.
Parker. He was dressed in the same gray slacks and white shirt he’d worn when he came to her dorm to pick her up for their first date at a local pizza restaurant. One red rose in his hand. He’d waited in the lobby for her, disregarding all the jeers he got from other guys that came by.
“But these were from Daryl,” she declared, pulling it away from her face. She set the rose back with the other twelve.
There was no reason for Parker to send her flowers. After they had done brunch, she’d gone out of her way not to encourage his interest. Even modifying her schedule or having Simeon tell him she was in a meeting or gone. After the first month he stopped coming by. She was satisfied Parker got the picture. They were not going to be rekindling things.
Daryl was safe. Getting flowers from him or being on his arm for an occasional charity event didn’t make her want more with him.
Parker was dangerous. Even having kissed him once and sitting with him over a meal had her fantasizing about him every night when she went to sleep. Really, she was avoiding her own heart as much as she was keeping her distance from him.
The spark of desire she had for him, kept her peeping out of curtains or windows randomly, expecting he’d just show up at her house again. Six weeks had passed since his exhibit opened and he hadn’t come around.
Good. That’s what I want.
Her heart wasn’t convinced.
A last glance at the flowers before she went back to filing her preliminary travel voucher. Sunday she would be flying out to Kansas to visit the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Natural Art because they had the Hale Woodruff’s 1838 mural collection. The same collection she was trying to get on exhibit here. She had a meeting on Tuesday morning with the curator and the owner of the collection.
Focus on work, that’s what she needed to keep doing.
~ML~
“I really had a good time tonight.”
“The Youth Orchestra was amazing.” Sonya agreed with Daryl’s words as they walked toward her porch. “Such a talented group of children. To see so many parents with their kids in attendance and well behaved was wonderful.”
“I wasn’t referring to the performance.” He took hold of her forearm and stopped her at the bottom of her stairs.
She faced him. Staring up into his face she saw emotions of hope and desire shadowing his features.
“Being around you is always great. I think we have a lot in common and we communicate on the same level.” She wanted to pull away from his hold. It felt restrictive instead of warm and welcoming. There were no dynamite chargers going off in her body.
“These nights can be more frequent. We can be more than what we have been.”
His words weren’t new. In the beginning, almost a year ago, when he’d asked her out he’d said he was looking for a serious possibly permanent relationship. She’d told him she wasn’t ready.
She stepped back.
He lowered his hand.
“I don’t want to lead you on. My feelings for you haven’t changed. I see you as a friend. A friend I really like,” she rushed on trying to soften the blow.
“But solely a friend?” The shadows on his face became cloud of discouragement.
“Daryl, it’s not that I don’t want to—n”
Lifting both his hand up, he stepped back along the path. “I get it. I’m glad you’re honest with me. Even if I don’t like the outcome.”
“I remember you telling me when we first went out that you had a plan. Get married, run for Mayor and have a child within the next five years.”
“That’s still it.” He let out a dry chuckle. “I was hoping that wife would be you.”
Sighing, she shook her head. “It won’t. I think its best you start looking elsewhere.”
“I see that now.” He offered her a small smile. “It has been memorable. I wish you happiness, Sonya. Something in your life more than work.” He brushed a finger along her cheek.
Nodding, she stood silent.
Turning, he headed back to his car in her driveway. His lights flashed as he unlocked his door.
As he walked away, she felt a twinge of sadness about losing his friendship, but knew it was for the best. Realizing she forgot to thank him for his gift, she called out after him. “Thank you for the flowers yesterday, they were beautiful.”
At his car, he pulled open the door then turned to face her. “I didn’t send you flowers. I guess you have someone else whose heart you’ve captured.”
With that said he gave her a short wave then got into his car and reversed out of her life.
Her hands tightened around her keys and her heart thumped in her chest.
Parker. Parker. Parker. His name whispered to the rhythm of the beat.
Going to her door, she tried to figure out how she should handle the situation. She was thankful that she had a trip coming up and wouldn’t have to do anything about it at least until Wednesday.
> They were just flowers. Nothing more, nothing special. Don’t read too much into it. She tried to tell herself.
However, it was apparent to her that even though he had been silent over the last month or so, he hadn’t given up on reconnecting with her.
Getting her ex out of her life seemed like it was going to be a much harder task then sending Daryl off to find happiness.
Do you really want him to find happiness somewhere else?
That was the million-dollar question. Before his return in her life, the answer would have been an easy yes. Now that he was so close to her, she could say how she felt for sure.
~ML~
“Oh, hello, Dr. Hayden.”
Stopped by the sound of his name, Parker turned on his way through his wing to Sonya’s office to drop off a package. A woman in the museum’s staff uniform was standing three feet behind him. Evidently, he passed her and hadn’t seen her standing there.
“Forgive my rudeness. Hi. Can I help you with something?”
“No. Yes. Um. I’m Stacey, I work admissions. I was just fascinated about,” she waved her hands around. “All this. Bugs and stuff, you know.”
“Really?” He made an effort to keep his brows relaxed. The woman didn’t appear fascinated.
“Yes.” She let out an odd giggle. “I’ve always thought bugs were kinda creepy.” She swallowed and her eyes darted around her, not really resting on any one place. “Now…now, it’s all interesting.”
It wasn’t uncommon for most people to be uncomfortable in his exhibit. People generally feared what they didn’t understand.
“I’m glad you are coming to appreciate invertebrates.” He turned, prepared to continue toward his destination.
“Well, I am…” she rushed into his path.
He had to halt abruptly to keep himself from smacking into her.
“I am interested.” She paused, holding his gaze.
He arched a brow and stared back.
Preening before him, she fluffed her short, jet-black bob and appeared to arch her back in a way that made her breasts beneath her dark blazer push high and snug.
“I was hoping for more education on them. You know…someone to spend some time explaining it all.” She licked her bright red, painted lips.
Evidence of Desire: Hero Series 3 Page 6