A Younger Man (Mount Faith Series: Book 7)

by Brenda Barrett

  Davia nodded at him and an uncomfortable silence reigned in the air. She was squirming under his intensive study of her. She felt like screaming to him to stop. She looked at the clock, any minute now they would hear Anita's heels clicking on the marble floor.

  She stopped squirming under Vanley's stare long enough to check him out. He was dressed in semi-formal wear: a green shirt without a tie and black dress pants. He looked handsome and cool. Her plan to get him to like her better than Anita suddenly seemed silly and childish. Obviously, he came to see Anita; he went to the singles retreat with her. She was barking up the wrong tree.

  "Want to meet me for lunch at the cafeteria?" Vanley asked her suddenly.

  "Me?" Davia squealed.

  "Yes, you," Vanley pushed his hands into his pants pockets, "but if you are too busy..."

  "No, I'll be there," Davia said excitedly. "I usually go for lunch at twelve-thirty."

  "Well, twelve thirty it is." Vanley nodded and then exited the room. Duty done. He hoped his uncle was happy. His uncle had called him earlier that morning, reminding him that he had two months left to go out with Davia. His meddling uncle would not take no for an answer, and his uncle might be the only one who would tell him what Anita's secret was.

  He passed her in the hallway before he exited the building. She was in her red power suit. She was serious; he could see it on her face.

  "Vanley," she greeted him flatly.

  "Anita," he nodded to her. Then he stopped. "Is your friend Carol still around?"

  "My friend?" Anita spun around and tightened her hand on her briefcase.

  "Yes." Vanley nodded. "Didn't she tell you that I stopped by to see you the day after the retreat? You were sleeping. I called your phone the day after that as well. If I didn't have to go out of town for a few days, I would have stopped by again."

  "I can't remember you coming by, and Carol never said a thing," Anita said breathlessly. "You talked to her?"

  "Yes." Vanley nodded. "She's pretty... how should I put it... zany?"

  Anita nodded numbly. "Yes, that's her. What did she tell you?" She asked a bit too sharply.

  Vanley grinned. "Your secret."

  Anita gasped. "She wouldn't."

  Vanley was about to play with her some more, but she looked panicked. "Hey, Anita, I was just joking."

  Anita inhaled and then exhaled loudly. "It wasn't funny."

  Vanley looked at her, concerned. "This secret will have to come out some day." He gestured to the wide outdoors. "The sun is shining; the weather is sweet. Why not tell me now."

  Anita shook her head. "I have work to do. Have a good day, Vanley."

  Vanley felt hurt when she spun away.

  Chapter Eight

  Vanley made it a point to have lunch with Davia every day that week. His intention was that his uncle would see him leaving the building with her, but by the second day, he found himself liking her infectious laugh.

  She had a very quirky sense of humor and he began to enjoy being with her. He had not forgotten that he was doing it to find out Anita's secret though. Knowing the secret was almost as compelling as being with Anita. If only she had told him what the secret was, it would not have taken on behemoth proportions in his head.

  He was sitting with Davia under a weeping willow tree in the old part of the university campus. On this side of the campus, the buildings were restorations from the 1800s. The place was originally a working plantation. There was a clock that was a part of an old mill; it was inlaid into the brick. It was standing alone and covered with moss and grass.

  It was a little piece of history in a wide expanse of lawn that was quite close to the music building. Students would come here for picnics. Even now, some of them were sitting on blankets on the lawn. Some people were studying while others ate. It had been his idea to take Davia somewhere other than the cafeteria, and he could see that she was enjoying herself. She was sitting on one side of his blanket, her eyes closed and her face turned up to the sun.

  She laughed and cracked an eye open and looked at him. "This is lovely, Vanley. Thank you for the break." Then she sobered up, and asked him shyly, "Can I ask you a question?"

  Vanley smirked. "You just did."

  "I mean, do you have a thing for Anita?" She bit her lip. "I know she has a thing for you because since I have been going to lunch with you she has turned into a shrew. That's the only way I can describe it. She grills me like a maniac detective when I get back and then grunts and shouts after that. She looks frazzled and out of it all because I am going to lunch with you."

  Vanley inhaled sharply. Should he confess that he had loved Anita for five years; that he was on the verge of frustration from not knowing why they could not be together, and that he was only dating Davia for his uncle's benefit? He really couldn't tell her that. It would hurt her and he didn't want to do that. Instead, his mind focused on what bringing her out here was doing to Anita. So, it was making her jealous? Why hadn't he thought of doing that before? Would Anita be jealous enough to reveal why she couldn't be with him?

  Was she closer to cracking now and finally revealing the secret? He smiled at Davia, almost happily. He could be one step closer to Anita's secrets.

  "I have a thing for her," he admitted, shrugging. Up until last week he would have called the thing love, but now he was not so sure. He wasn't confident about that emotion anymore, not where Anita was concerned. Maybe she had finally succeeded in eroding the emotions that he had for her. She had firmly put him in the friend zone. Maybe it was time for him to move on. He was getting bitter and frustrated. Those twin emotions were drowning his love; making him wary of that feeling.

  Davia sighed. "I knew it. It wasn't hard to guess. So why aren't you two together then? Time is not exactly on her side," she finished waspishly and immediately felt contrite when Vanley's eyes darkened.

  "I am sorry. Forget I said it."

  "Her age doesn't matter to me," Vanley said, "I could care less about it. We are as young or as old as we feel or act."

  "Then what's the matter?" Davia asked. "Why are you taking me to lunch instead of her?"

  "The problem is," Vanley cleared his throat. "There is something that Anita doesn't want me to know; she thinks I can’t handle it. She thinks I am not mature enough, that my profession is a hindrance. I don't know. It's some big secret."

  Davia frowned, "I know the secret or at least I think I do."

  "You do?" Vanley's eyes widened.

  "Yes," Davia nodded. "The thing is I heard her on the phone arguing with somebody about her dog, then this detective dropped by and kind of insinuated that she was hiding a fugitive. He said the person was wanted for murder and was armed and dangerous."

  Vanley said slowly. "That's the secret that you know?"

  "Yes, I think she's harboring a criminal."

  "No," Vanley shook his head. "That's not it. The secret has to be years old. I have known her for five years now. The secret is at least that old." He dismissed the talk of Anita harboring a criminal. Carol didn't seem like a criminal, and even if she was, she certainly wasn't armed and dangerous.

  Davia shrugged. "It sounds like she doesn't trust you to make up your own mind about whatever her secret is, which is probably just an age thing anyway."

  Vanley was about to protest, but he shook his head instead. "You maybe right."

  "She is a complex woman," Davia said. "Maybe you should look for someone uncomplicated. Someone who doesn't have secrets."

  She smiled at Vanley. Hoping he'd take the hint.

  He chuckled softly; he wasn't slow on the uptake. "Uncomplicated is good."

  *****

  Anita had the rattiest day she had ever had on her job so far, and it had nothing to do with the work itself. Vanley was seeing Davia. Today was Thursday, the fourth day they had gone for lunch. This time it was a picnic lunch, an intimate picnic lunch, which her besotted secretary had said was really the best time she had ever had.

  She shifted gears and
gunned her car, trying to get it moving faster up the hilly roads. The speed was hardly enough to let her feel the thrill of a fast drive, so she lowered her speed, feeling frustrated.

  She thought she could handle it. She had casually acted as if she could sit back and see Vanley shift his affections but it was wearing her down. She gritted her teeth. She loved him. She really did. She loved him enough to let him get on with his life, but it was hard watching him do it. The jealousy was wearing her thin. She drove into her yard to see a black BMW X5 carelessly parked in her driveway. She came to a screeching halt beside it, thinking all sorts of thoughts. She was sure it was not a police vehicle; so who was it that was in her house with Carol?

  She didn't have long to wait. As she briskly walked up the steps, a tall distinguished looking gentleman in a suit stepped through the front door with Carol walking closely behind him.

  "Ah, you are here," Carol said, grinning. "Edward this is Anita, who has graciously put up with me for the past three and a half weeks."

  Anita nodded, "Edward Durkheim, how are you? Am I glad to see you."

  Edward laughed. "Carol can be a handful, I know. I am happy I came back to straighten out this mad charge against her."

  Carol was nodding behind him like a bobble doll. "Then I can get back to my regular life."

  Anita smiled in relief. "So when are you leaving?"

  "I'll make some calls now," Edward said. "When I reach my house, it's just a few miles up the road from here. Want us to go in together, Carol, or did you drive?"

  "I drove," Carol said. "I can leave now. I just want all of this cleared up as soon as possible. I just need to say goodbye to Chudney."

  Anita went into the house behind Carol. "You need to get your own dog," she said as Carol held Chudney's face in her hands and stared at him lovingly.

  Carol crooned, "I know you prefer me to Anita but I have to go Chuds. Take care of Anita though, okay."

  Chudney seemed as if he nodded, and Anita laughed. "Chudney, you better behave yourself; remember who feeds you."

  Carol straightened up and stood before her. "And you, Anita Parkinson, you need to put Vanley out of his misery. The guy loves you. Tell him your secret."

  "No," Anita said. "He won't love me anymore if I tell him."

  Carol smirked. "I think you are wasting your life Anita. He'll lose interest. Nothing lasts forever."

  Anita shrugged. "I'll deal with it."

  Carol shook her head. "Do you want to live the rest of your life in this big lonely house, swimming in regrets with only Chudney for company. You have never been a coward. Man up."

  Then she saw Anita's expression and giggled. "Oops. I know that look. Later. I love you—always have and always will. If I am ever running from the law again, I'll come and check you."

  Anita rolled her eyes.

  When Carol left, the house suddenly felt bereft of life. She had only been there for three weeks, but she made the place come alive. She really was living in an isolated world. When she was younger, it had been necessary for her survival. When Carol entered her life back then, she had felt re-energized.

  Was the isolation so necessary now? She had believed that she had to hide who she was from the world in order to fit in. Why was she still hiding?

  She went to her room and stared at its all-white contours. She had deliberately decorated it that way. When she was younger she had a vision of herself lying on an all-white bed in a white room where she felt carefree and happy. That vision had stayed with her for years. As she struggled to adjust in her teen years, and in her early twenties, it was all she thought of.

  She had chosen white for her decor, but she couldn't quite capture that carefree, happy feeling. In order to be happy, she would have to tear off scar tissue, face her past, and open up herself to Vanley.

  She slumped on her bed. It would never work for them. There were too many obstacles and too many things to adjust to.

  A tear trickled down her cheek, and another followed it rapidly. She bit her lips, trying not to make a sound. She was bigger than crying over what she couldn't change, but her tears mocked her by flowing even more down her cheeks.

  Chapter Nine

  "Hey, Davia!" Jessica Bancroft called to her from across the Business Center courtyard.

  Davia smiled. She and Jessica had become fast friends since her little makeover session.

  Jessica was seated with her best friend and loyal shadow, Ramon. Davia walked over to them and sat down. "What are you guys up to?"

  "Studying," Jessica said.

  Ramon shrugged. "I am studying; Jess is listening to her obsession, Khaled."

  Jessica elbowed him. "He is jealous of Khaled. Have you ever heard anything so absurd?"

  Davia grinned. "You are pretty into him; that was one of the first things I noticed about you. You were wearing an I love Khaled t-shirt."

  "He writes songs just for me," Jessica said dreamily. "It's like he knows me. He is the reason I am doing a degree in Music Composition with Technology. Someday I'll produce something for him. I've been thinking up all sorts of beats and I write stuff..."

  Ramon grinned. His wavy hair was ruffled, and a tuft of it fell in his eye. "Khaled writes songs to sell to the public. He doesn't know you, and he doesn't care and you'll never meet him, not in your lifetime."

  Jessica drummed her fingers on the table. "He says these things to hurt me Davia. He's awful."

  "And I will continue to say them because it is the truth. You need a dose of reality now and again." Ramon popped a gum into his mouth. "This is your second year doing music when you should be doing the sciences, like me. You are a crazy groupie gone mad."

  Jessica turned her back to him and Ramon grinned. "I think I am getting through to her. What do you think, Davia?"

  Davia grinned because Jessica had closed her eyes and was counting loudly. "One, two, three..."

  Ramon picked up his books and tapped Jessica on the shoulder. "Meet me at the lab at four. I am taking you to dinner for Valentines."

  Jessica stopped counting. "What kind of dinner?"

  Ramon laughed. "Don't know. Maybe I should do something romantic: candle light, flowers…the works. I'll even play your favorite Khaled music."

  Jessica smirked. "Okay. I'll bring dessert."

  Ramon nodded and waved to them. "Later girls."

  "Later," Jessica said, turning back to Davia. "So what are you doing this Valentine’s Day?"

  "Nothing," Davia said, watching Ramon's retreating back. "You guys are weird. Are you together or something?"

  "Nope," Jessica said. "We are best friends. If we don't have a special Valentine, we become each other's date for Valentine. We've been doing it since prep school."

  "Well, good for you; at least you have a Valentine. I don't know why people place so much emphasis on this day of love though." She shuddered. "It's so sickening and commercialized."

  "Hey," Jessica touched her hand, "why are you sounding so sad? I thought you had this makeover so that you could have a Valentine."

  "Yes," Davia nodded, "but it's not really working out. The guy I like loves someone else. He doesn't want to be with me."

  Jessica shook her head. "Maybe you are better off without him then."

  Davia nodded and then sighed. "I guess. I have to go. I just came to grab a quick bite. I have a ton of things to do at the office."

  She got up and walked to get her food. When she was walking back toward her office, she did so slowly. Love was in the air at the campus. There were several stalls from the various university clubs and societies lined out along the path. They were decorated with hearts, and flowers, and red and white.

  She almost stopped at the Optimist Club to get herself a teddy bear. He had a heart in the center of his belly, and he looked so adorable, but she had vowed that she wouldn't do that today.

  She hated the day anyway. She had heard that it was a day rooted in paganism, and she was an upstanding Christian girl. As a matter of fact, she really th
ought the school should take a stance on banning the practice of celebrating Valentine’s Day. The whole thing was ridiculous.

  She headed into the president's building so burdened that it wasn't until she actually sat in her chair that she saw the bouquet of red roses on her desktop. There were a dozen of them, and they were in a clay vase.

  Her heart skipped a beat, undermining her earlier hatred of Valentine’s Day.

  She gingerly took up the card and red the note. Maybe it wasn't for her. Maybe it was for her boss.

  "To: Davia."

  She laughed in relief. She didn't care who sent it. She didn't even take the time out to read the note. It meant so much to her that she felt weak pathetic tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. She had never gotten flowers before, not even when she had been in the hospital to remove her appendix.

  She read the note further, after swinging in her chair with glee: "Hoping you have a great day today. Vanley."

  Vanley! Davia sunk back in her chair. What could this mean? Had he finally come to his senses about Anita? Did he like her now, or was this just a pity gift?

  She found that she didn't mind the motive; she was just happy for the gift. She would carry it in her hand when she took the taxi home today. She'd sit in the front, hold up her bouquet of gorgeous flowers, and allow people to admire it. She swiveled in her chair again with a satisfied smile on her face.

  "Davia," Anita stepped into the office catching her in mid-swivel.

  "Yes." Davia sat up in her seat. "I finished the meeting minutes for you, as you requested."

  Anita looked at her and then at the flowers. "Those are lovely."

  "Thank you," Davia smiled. "Vanley sent them. I have never gotten flowers before; come to think of it, I have never gotten a Valentine’s gift before."

  She handed Anita the file and watched as she gritted her teeth. Anita looked through the file and then glanced at the flowers again. "That's nice.