She didn’t know why she was angry. “I think I’m resenting this whole conversation!”
He was still trying to keep it lighthearted. “Before we get to dirty diapers and sinks full of dishes, can we first go on a date, maybe even work on my goatee down your spine thing you mentioned?”
She found herself laughing at her knee-jerk reaction. “I don’t know what came over me. I just thought about all my hard work going to waste while I got fat and pregnant.”
He was still laughing. “You seem to be missing some steps in between there, darling.”
Guinevere maintained her serious tone. “I have a great number of patents, and my work and I are worth a great deal, so I have to be careful. Men have tried before to sweet talk me…and it’s a touchy subject.”
“We can be as careful as you like. Prenups are always good to protect both parties, but I only plan to marry once, and stay married to the mother of my children.”
“Are you asking me?” she felt compelled to ask.
His breath caught. “Well I would like to know your name, see your face, so I can know if I am going to have red-headed children with freckles and green eyes or dark children with dark eyes and wavy hair. Hell, I would like to just kiss you.”
“Again, I am not sure you understand the sacrifice you are asking of a woman, any woman, and not just me,” she noticed that he had dodged the subject once more. She took a quick breath. “When have you ever had to make a sacrifice for someone or something that you loved?”
He thought hard about her question before answering, “I sacrificed for Mina.”
A spark of jealously surged through her and she felt protective. “Who was Mina?”
“You mean who is Mina?”
“So Mina is in the present tense, as in she is still in your life.” There it is again, that spark of jealousy. Get a hold of yourself, girl.
“Actually she is downstairs, probably making me a sandwich.”
“This conversation is over, playboy!”
Gawain found himself still laughing, feeling like some hormone driven school girl with the giggles. “Wait, Guinevere, you opened the door, hear me out. Mina, or Wilhelmina, is my sister.”
“That doesn’t count, she is your sister. It’s your job to protect her and make sacrifices for your family.” Guinevere said softly, glad it was his sister and not some woman he was still pining for or after.
“In this case it does,” he said calmly.
She needed to know what was so special about his sister that he had to make a sacrifice. Gawain started to speak, “It started simply, but got more complicated. Do you have time tonight to hear this?”
“I have all the time you need.” She put on the earpiece to her cellular and took a seat on the couch.
29
The Arduous Journey
“I was an all-star football player in high school and received a full scholarship to Arizona State as the all-state running back. I hadn’t made any plans for my life outside playing pro ball.” Gawain had majored in History with an English minor, which he found limited his earning potential.
“After I was drafted by the Cardinals, I was taken out by the defensive line of the other team in the first pro-game of the season. I ripped my ACL and my Achilles tendon, which sidelined me from the NFL,” he told her quietly.
“I fell into a deep depression and refused to leave the bed.” He touched the mattress, as it was the same bed he had spent all that time in.
“My sister was spotted in the mall by an agent of Phillip Morris. My parents, two very busy people, were both inundated with their careers and raising my sister and brother that neither of them had the time to fly to New York for the meeting.”
“No one really thought anything would come out of the meeting, but Mina was signed and began to get some modeling work,” he paused. “It was nothing spectacular or glamorous, just some ad work, video shoots and the like, but Mina had her eyes set on Paris, Rome, and Milan.”
He balled a pillow up under his head and leaned back into it. “I felt like such a failure and had no prospects for any kind of life outside of football, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was truly lost. I needed something to focus on and a way to make some money to support myself. My dad offered me the job of managing my sister’s career.”
Gawain gave her a minute to take in what he had supplied her with thus far. “My father gave me an annual starting salary of $25k to take care of everything Mina needed and it was up to me to flip it into something larger.” He scratched his head as he talked to her, not sure how much to tell her. He had never shared this part of his life with anyone.
“I had no clue what I was doing, and my sister trusted me and believed I could do no wrong. I was her big strong brother and she and my parents put her life in my hands, Guinevere. She was only 13 at the time, trying to work in a world of lechers, vultures, pedophiles, and druggies.”
Gawain told her that he managed to secure runway work for Mina at Fashion Week in New York.
“A big named designer spotted her and had to have her in Paris the following week. So we flew off to Paris, full of high hopes, arriving ready to work, and Mina was faced with nothing but disappointment,” he told her.
“The designer wanted to put her in an outfit that left nothing for the imagination, and I was not going to allow it. It was going to blackball her if she didn’t do the show and I couldn’t see crushing her dreams when we had just gotten started,” Gawain said.
“It sounds like you had a lot on your hands,” Guinevere added.
“You don’t even know the half of it. My father was running a clean campaign for judge and was pushing for the approval of MLK legislation, and the last thing he needed was his daughter splattered all over the magazines with her goodies hanging out.”
Guinevere understood what he was trying to tell her. “The designer didn’t see any reason to protect the modesty of a 13-year-old girl. As a punishment the designer took away her hair, makeup and wardrobe dressers.”
She could hear the melancholy in his voice as he spoke to her, “To avoid getting her little heartbroken, I had to figure out which bandages made the best pasties.” Gawain admitted that during the whole week, he dressed, combed and styled hair, and applied makeup for the show.
“Unconditional love,” he said, “is dressing your butt-naked 13-year-old sister, giving her a Brazilian, and not showing any emotion at the task at hand.” He still often shuddered at the thought of the things he had to do for his sister during her modeling times, things that were usually reserved for a mother or a big sister. “Worse than that, is being strong in the face of adversity while giving away nothing and not allowing her to see that I was as scared as she was. But I had experienced having my dreams crushed in one night by someone who wanted to do me harm and break me. They broke my body, almost my spirit, and it was a climb out of the darkness. I was not going to allow her to experience it at such a young age.”
“After that debacle,” Gawain said, “I learned to play the stock market to make some quick dough.”
“The money I earned allowed me to hire a personal assistant for Mina who was in charge of hair, makeup and wardrobe.”
Guinevere added, “You were lucky you didn’t lose your shirt and all of your money.”
“I was lucky in more ways than one. I hired Jean Marc fresh out of cosmetology school.”
Guinevere stopped him. “Wait, you mean Jean Marc as in Jean Marc Beauvais Salons?”
“Yes, but at the time, he was John Marcus Brown from Hell’s Kitchen.”
Guinevere was not that impressed. “What a sacrifice you made, Gawain, constantly surrounded by all of those beautiful women,” she said wryly.
Chuckling, he said, “Yes, there were perks, but there were also pedophiles, drug dealers, and gay men who led doubles. Many of those models were strung out, had eating disorders, self-esteem issues and poor character,” he added.
“Keep in mind,” he told her, “I was also
responsible during the school term to ensure Mina had tutors, she went to the prom, got enough to eat, exercised, and got enough rest. I made sure she led as normal of a life as humanly possible. It was imperative that I taught her the difference between her persona and her as a person.”
Guinevere was quiet.
“I was her cook, her maid, her manager, her best friend, and last but not least, her ad hoc parent,” Gawain stated. “I had to become more than just her brother. I had to become her standard for how a man should treat her as a woman.”
Suddenly, Guinevere developed a new respect for him. “I did this for 12 years, Guinevere. I had no real identity, no life of my own. It continued through Mina’s enrollment into design school in San Francisco, then she went to grad school. While she was in school, I got her a few contracts and she did a few movies as well. My sister spent her teen years on private planes between Milan, Rome, and Tokyo, which did not make her an ideal candidate for a college roommate.”
He continued, “Mina felt I should go to grad school while she attended design school. I had been investing most of the money she earned in emerging markets and futures and had netted her a small fortune.”
Guinevere knew he was telling her something important, but she could not place her finger on it. Instead, she opted to listen to his clues. “Jean Marc wanted to open his own salon in San Fran and so Mina fronted him the money, and she now owns half of Jean Marc Salons.”
He heard Guinevere’s breath catch. “My salary, or my 15% of her earnings, I also invested. Between the investments and the royalties for the movies, we made enough to buy her the condo that I currently reside in. Also when Jean Marc wanted to launch his product lines, I fronted the money for that, so I own half of that. I also get free product which is cool.”
Guinevere could not help but ask, “So you live in your sister’s condo?”
“No, I live in the company condo.” He added that his sister was a bit of a genius who had a head for numbers and an eye for color.
“She started a lingerie company and I helped get it all off the ground.” He added that she considered San Francisco to be her home, and the condo held special memories for her. “So it’s where she comes when she’s on the West Coast or doing business out this way or we have shareholder meetings. Her corporate headquarters are there, which is why I live there.”
Guinevere wanted to make sure she understood. “You own half of your sister’s lingerie company?”
He was smiling again. “Yes, I own half of Vanity’s Pleasure and she has a twin who is a writer and I helped him start his publishing business, so I own half of that too.”
He heard her breathing shift, “Hold on…your sister is Vanity Devons? So you are telling me that you are responsible for creating and developing the cultural phenomenon and icon that is Vanity Devons?” She now found herself laughing. “So I guess you could stay home with kids?”
“Yes, but that Vanity Devons is a business. Mina is my sister and home will need to be accessible to the West Coast where the company is,” he added.
Guinevere checked the battery life on her phone. She was still doing pretty good, but decided to plug it in just in case. “If I understand this correctly, you own half of your brother and sister’s respective companies and you work a full-time job?”
It sounded as sad spoken aloud as it did to live it. He had no life outside of work. “Yes. I also am part owner in a few other family enterprises.”
He got quiet and said what he had not been able to voice in many years, “I am so sick of all of that shit. I am ready to give it all up and settle down on a nice little vineyard somewhere and make some wine and some babies.”
Guinevere now understood. “Since you have it like that afterall, I guess you do almost anything you want. All that is missing is your private plane.”
He found himself frowning because he did not like the idea of feeling like he was boasting. “No, we have one of those. I bought one for Mina for her 30th birthday.”
She didn’t know why she was shocked but he explained that the entire family used it. “I sent my cousin, Chuck, to flight school, so he is the pilot.”
“Well, I don’t have my own plane,” Guinevere said. “I never leave my lab, so my need to travel is limited. The pharms that I work for depend on my cutting edge research, I have several patents as well as patents pending, and therefore I can’t uproot my life.”
There it was. The stinky ass elephant sitting in the middle of the room, and one of them had to admit it was there.
Is this enough here to plan for a life?
He wasn’t sure. He wouldn’t know unless he asked. He cleared his throat. “I can work anywhere. I can teach, I can write, I can lecture. I am not tied down. I don’t really own any personal property. My permanent phone number is still in my old bedroom in my parents’ house, which is the line we’re now on. I hate Jersey. The air quality gives me asthma attacks. I also have a lung condition that makes it so that I can’t live anywhere cold. I can pass through for a couple of days, but snow and sleet, will be the death of me.” He waited for her to respond.
After a moment, she did. “I cannot move my labs. They are contracted to the pharm gods as well as my research. Pharm markets shift based on what I create, but my sister can still manage the day-to-day.”
It was in the air.
Gawain broke the tension, “Farm gods?”
“Yes,” she said. “Farm with a P-H.”
They were moving towards the center of the room and the elephant had raised his trunk.
He was already there, so he opened up and allowed the words to come out. “For some reason, I feel things for you that I have never for any woman. I just shared with you something I have never told anyone in my life. I don’t ever tell anyone who my sister is. And this scares me.”
Gawain found himself sweating. “I haven’t touched you. I don’t know what you look like. I found out your race two weeks ago. I don’t know your religion or creed. Shit, I don’t even know your name. I don’t know the feel of your skin or how you feel underneath me, but I’m willing to chuck it all to make you Mrs. DJD.”
She responded with laughter. “Clever fellow you are…. and it would be Mrs. DJD, Ph.D., M.D. … can I at least know what my new surname would be?”
He laughed along with her. “Devonshire. Think about it… Let me know where we go from here. I’m in Phoenix until Sunday. I’ll touch base with you on Monday.”
She yelled into the phone to make sure he did not hang up or end the conversation abruptly. “Just like that? You want me to decide?”
“Of course not!” he said. “We’ll discuss it a great deal more, have some dates over the next six months and see if we can plan a life together. I’m just putting it on the table to let you know where I’m standing.”
“I’m scared,” she woefully admitted.
“So am I, but together we can figure it out. I mean I just put it all out there… Love can be scary, but we have something. I am only asking for you to trust in me and believe in us. Good night, milady.”
It had not escaped her attention that he was using the words she had written to him on the post card. She called to him into the phone causing him to wait before he disconnected the call, “My last name is Murphy, my cell number is 609-555-8216, and you are using my words against me. Goodnight, Gawain.”
There was no sleep to be had for either knight or fair maiden that night. Both had asked and learned a great deal about the other. Gawain, especially, had revealed a great deal more than he ever had before. He had asked her to marry him and start a family in no uncertain terms. He had offered to give up his career and move anywhere that wasn’t cold or New Jersey. Gawain had already decided that his time with the firm was over and this would be his last six months whether his future include Guinevere or not.
The dragon had been put on notice. He was coming to slay it.
30
Walking the Parapets
Guinevere was more skittish than
a prostitute at a prayer meeting. Can I marry a man who I know better than half the people I’ve worked side-by-side with for the past 15 years? Can I leave my lab in the hands of my sister and start a new direction in my life?
She didn’t think she could she give it all up for some travel and a house full of kids. Kids that she had no idea what they would even look like.
Wait. The conversation was live and there was no transcript to review, but he had given her clues. He had told her his last name! His sister owned Vanity’s Pleasure and had a private jet, and she had a twin that owned a publishing house. Whoa, his father ran for judge on a platform for the MLK holiday in Phoenix. She went to Google and entered the name.
Holy Bunsen Burner!
She now knew who he was. His sister was gorgeous and his brother owned Davonshire House Publishing, a thriving independent publishing house in Arizona. Gawain said that he owned half of each company, so he was a man of substantial means. Hell, I would need to sign a prenup after all.
She saw so many photos of his sister, and none of them were ever bad. Two of the six movies his sister was in she had seen, and even owned the blue rays. Suddenly she felt like an ugly duckling in comparison. She couldn’t even start to imagine how much work went into protecting such a beautiful young woman from a world of predators and deviants. Guinevere then went to the Vanity’s Pleasure website and looked at the About Us page.
There was a photo of her and her twin, Wilfred, who looked really familiar. He was almost too beautiful to be a man. She had seen him before somewhere, but she could not put her finger on it. There was a photo of the three of them – and Gawain was a hunk. She also noticed a picture of them with their parents. Dang, he looks like his Daddy. His Daddy is sexy too. There was a link to a book his sister published and a smiling Gawain was on the cover. Perfect teeth and dimples with jet black wavy hair and eyes that seem to call to her.
Courting Guinevere (The Davonshire Series Book 1) Page 17