As someone with an architectural degree of his own and a critical eye, Devon was willing to admit he was impressed by the architect’s unique design. The man was truly a visionary for using an Olympic-sized, glass-enclosed circular pool with a retractable glass ceiling as the centerpiece of the house. Yes, the design was artistic and still functional, but Devon had made a point to let Barnett know that both he and his brother were architects themselves.
All communications thus far had been through Barnett, who, when asked by an eager Deshawn when Ms. Bolton would arrive in town, would only say that she was out of the country traveling. It was due to the friendly attorney, they had then learned, that they had been offered the contract. It seemed he was a business associate of one of their former clients, a young African-American politician from Washington, DC, who have wanted a vacation home built in Virginia for his family. The fact that they lived just half a mile from the site was just a bonus, he had assured them during the first week of construction when he flew into Charleston to meet with them in person to go over any last-minute details. During the couple of months after they began construction on the house, the attorney had returned several times to check on the developments.
“Morning, brother.”
Devon looked up to see his mirror image walk into the office, similarly clad in well-worn baggy jeans and long sleeve henley with GAP embroidered on the front. “Good morning. Nana up yet?”
Deshawn laughed, a smile always ready to break through on his handsome face. “Yeah, she’s flipping through those three hundred channels from the satellite dish we brought her. She’s in rerun heaven right about now.”
Devon smiled, not as quick to laugh as his easy-going twin. It was odd because as much as they looked alike, they were different in their personalities. Nana Lil, with her ornery sense of humor, called Deshawn the “friendly one”. Devon never took offense because he knew their grandmother loved them both equally and she was right. The truth was just the truth. Since before he could remember, Deshawn was always the talkative one, instantly making friends while Devon kept to himself and spoke only when he deemed it necessary. Nothing had changed over the years since their childhood. Well, except that Deshawn’s charm made it hard for any woman to resist him and Devon aloofness seemed to draw women to him in droves. They both had very active social lives.
The differences in their personalities didn’t stop them from being close, as most twins were. Sometimes Devon could just shake his head in wonder when he saw that his twin had many of the same idiosyncrasies that he had, like eating with the spoon most of the time or biting his thumbnail when he was thinking something over.
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and the skies were a bluish lavender mix as day began to break. Summers in the south were one-of-a-kind and Devon knew that by noon the temperature would soar. He made a mental note to make sure he brought the water coolers filled with ice to the site for the crew to use throughout the day. If it was anything like yesterday, then it would be another scorcher as they worked.
Deshawn walked over to look down at the blueprints. Devon steeled himself for what he knew was about to spew from his brother’s mouth.
“Chloe Bolton’s house, just a half mile from my house.” He smiled heavenward, as if thanking the Great One above. “Life around here is definitely going to get real interesting when she gets here.”
“If she gets here,” Devon snapped. “She’s probably not moving down south permanently, like I’ve told you before. Barnett seems to be the only one in contact with her and he doesn’t even know when she plans on showing her face around here. She’s ‘out of the country,’ remember? I mean, the woman didn’t even care enough about the house to come check out how it’s developing herself, so it might not be number one on her priority list. She’s probably more concerned about getting a manicure or a facial or something else inane.”
Devon sighed as he stood from his desk and began to make preparations to go to the site. “Look, you’re not going to talk me to death about her all day again? It’s bad enough that it’s all the whole town is concerned about and on top of that, I have to look at that damn calendar.”
With a big, charming grin Deshawn walked past his brother to stand in front of where the calendar hung on the wall above his own cluttered drafting table. Open to the current month, the calendar showed Chloe climbing up the steel staircase of an hourglass-shaped pool with clear turquoise tiles that perfectly match the hue of the metallic two-piece string bikini she wore. Her long auburn hair was wet and straight back off her smiling face.
She was breathtakingly beautiful, and Deshawn couldn’t fathom any man in his right mind with a healthy libido not wanting the goddess as his nearest next-door neighbor. In his opinion, Devon was crazy for his paranoid suspicions of the woman’s intentions on moving to Holtsville, and he was a closet eunuch for not wanting any involvement with her, beyond building the house.
“Well, even if she isn’t moving here permanently, which I can’t blame her for, this woman living down the road is a treat, no matter how infrequently.”
Devon glanced briefly at the calendar over his shoulder as he strapped on his tool belt. “That’s your opinion.”
∞
“Thanks for signing the autograph, Ms. Bolton. I’m sure the little girl will never forget this.”
Chloe returned the copy of her beauty book, Chloe’s Beauty Secrets, and the pen to the friendly flight attendant with a smile. “No problem. Tell them I appreciate the support even though I’m retired.”
Her first-class flight from Montego Bay’s International Airport to Charleston, South Carolina, had gone smoothly but Chloe was anxious to be back on solid ground again. Excitement coursed through her as the pilot announced their imminent landing. She closed the novel she had been reading and looked out the window to the sweeping landscape beneath them.
She felt in her heart she had made the right decision. She knew her mother would have approved, and that was very important Chloe. Anika had also blessed her adventure, and as Chloe thought of her friend, tears filled her eyes. Although they promised to visit and call often, Chloe was going to miss her. But she also knew that a friendship like theirs would weather the hundreds of miles of separation.
The plane landed smoothly with no delays, and with the pilot’s approval she, along with the others in first-class, left the plane. She moved with long strides down the corridor connecting the plane to the airport terminal. With a wince, she realized her name was being yelled out. It was the voice of a child, and that’s what stopped Chloe from pulling her cap farther down on her head and sprinting away.
A little girl with long, slender braids, about six years old, removed her hand from an elderly woman, presumably her grandmother, and raced toward Chloe. The book she had signed earlier was under her arm.
“Thanks for da audogiraffe.” She smiled, revealing missing teeth adorably.
Chloe bit back a grin as the girl mispronounced the word autograph. “You’re welcome and thank you for buying it. It’s a pretty old book from last year.”
“I know dat, but my mother lost da other one she had.”
Chloe smiled. “Oh, I thought the book was for you,” she said playfully.
The little girl laughed. “I’m not old enough for makeup!”
“You’re pretty enough without it anyway.”
“Can I take a pidchoo to with you?”
Chloe glanced around quickly, glad that the few people still left in the corridor strolled by them quickly, also anxious to finish their journeys. She had made every effort to be incognito, even wearing a cap and shades. Yet still this child had recognized her, and so could someone else. But how could she resist this little brown-skinned angel?
She couldn’t.
“Okay.” Chloe removed her cap and DKNY shades, and stooped down her height. She flashed her famous smile as the girl’s grandmother snapped several shots of them together.
“Thank you so much. You really
made Kimani’s day. Sure do ‘preciate that.”
Chloe smiled and wish them well before taking her leave, praying she didn’t appear rude. But she didn’t want to be recognized. After getting her few pieces of luggage, Chloe picked up her already reserved rental car, a red BMW convertible.
Following the directions given her by the star-struck car rental agent, Chloe was situated in her penthouse suite at the Charleston Grand Royale within thirty minutes. She called Anika at work to let her know she had arrived safely. Next she unpacked, and because she was well acclimated to hotel living, it took just minutes to empty the two suitcases and garment bag. The rest of her clothing was, of course, in her apartment in New York. There was no way she could have done the extensive traveling that she had this year with her entire wardrobe. Now all the traveling stopped here, in her new home state of South Carolina.
In fact, she had flown straight from an exclusive resort in Jamaica, and she was dying to get cleaned up. It had been a long day. After a hot bath with aromatherapy jasmine bath beads, Chloe dressed in a crisp white tank and cut off, stonewashed jeans. With a pair of black thong sandals on, Chloe left the penthouse suite.
As she stepped off the elevator onto the elegantly furnished foyer, she was careful to look out for the hotel’s overly enthusiastic manager. When she had first arrived, he and a small portion of his staff had been awaiting her arrival with the full red carpet treatment. Frankly, she wasn’t in the mood for any fanfare. Really, she just wanted to see her land and her house.
Her whole purpose for leaving beautiful Jamaica early, with its white sands and black, muscled men, was to check on the development of her home. No longer could she go on Anthony’s word; she had to see it for herself. The whole project was too important for her to be in another country while it was being constructed.
She breezed a sigh of relief as she slipped past the unsuspecting hotel manager. Within minutes she was back in the vehicle, with the top down and the radio playing the latest R&B songs. The directions she had stopped to get from a gas station cashier seemed easy enough. Most of the driving was straight down Highway 17.
As she enjoyed the late afternoon Sunday sun and the feel of the breeze as she drove, Chloe thought of the year she just spent traveling. After enjoying the rest of the summer at a small villa she rented in Italy, she lounged away the fall season cruising. It had been the best way to continue winding down after her hectic life in the New York celebrity set. Although filled with luxurious amenities, it still had been a way for Chloe to wean herself from a fast-paced life and enjoy having empty days to treat herself to the simple things she enjoyed, like reading. On many of the nights aboard the ship she had remained in her suite and just ordered pizza, watched pay-per-view movies on the interactive television, or allowed her private butler to arrange a candlelight supper dinner, for one, on her veranda.
The two-week cruise to Greece had been memorable, but it was her stay at the beautiful Andromeda Hotel in Athens that had been the ultimate. Her days had been spent walking the mountains among ancient pottery remains. She had enjoyed the rich history and culture of the Acropolis and she had been amused by the sight of men astride donkeys riding through the olive groves. The last day of her three week stay in the beautiful country, she chartered a private yacht to sightsee the Cyclades and the Dodecanese islands, a site too impressive to describe with words.
Anika had joined her for two weeks of her month-long travels in Anguilla, a tiny paradise with only one main road and a small number of hotels. It was without the downtown hustle and bustle of large areas in the Caribbean, and ripe with quiet sophistication. Chloe and Anika had lazed the days away on the secluded crescent shaped beaches, interspersing their time with touring the island and shopping, of course.
The rest of her time had been spent at an all-inclusive resort in Jamaica. She has spent many hours toasting the sunset from a cliffside perch. The jerk chicken, Red Stripe beer and roasted yams at the Pork Pit had been as satisfying as a meal at a four-star hotel. The resort activity of beach bashes, toga parties and reggae dancing had been unforgettable.
This year had been just what she needed, a mix of total relaxation, exploration of new places and unique experiences. She had met interesting people whom she would never forget. She had been pursued by a wide variety of men, even having to outwit several rather amorous would-be suitors. All in all she had had the best year of her life, and now the building of a dream home, on her family’s land, would be the icing on the cake for her.
Chloe focused her attention back on her driving as the main highway eventually passed through a small town. She decelerated the car, pulling onto the small dirt driveway of a two-pump gas station. As she parked, a grizzly old man with silver hair and oversized overalls stepped out of the small storefront. She exited the vehicle, towering over the short man. “Good afternoon. Could you direct me to Holtsville? I think I got my directions mixed up.”
He pulled a sweat drenched handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his damp brown. The scorching heat was intense and Chloe felt as damp and sticky as the old man looked. She waited patiently as he tended to the moisture.
Now, Cyrus Dobbs’ vision wasn’t 20/20, but he knew a good-looking gal when he saw one. Hell, a blind man could see this one. He rocked back and forth on his heels to look up into her face. “Great Lawd, you’s a tall one,” he drawled, his broken English prominent with his southern accent.
Chloe smiled and pushed her shades on top of her damp, wilting hair. “Yes, I am. Did I miss the turn for Holtsville? I haven’t seen a sign or anything.”
“I’ve been breathing for seventy-two years and I ain’t seen nothing as pretty as you since my wife Mabel.” Cyrus wiped his brow again as the sweat beaded on his face. “Hot as Hades, ain’t it?”
“Yes, sir, it is hot. That’s why I’m trying to reach my destination.” Chloe felt sweat trickle down her spine. Funny, she had been in place is much hotter than this but somehow it felt worse when she wasn’t surrounded by white sand beaches and dressed in a bikini.
“Where’s dat?”
Chloe swatted a mosquito humming by her ear and forced a smile. “Holtsville,” she said patiently.
“You got bidness in Holtsville?” Out came the cloth again.
“My mother passed away eight years ago and she left me some land and I’m having a home built there for myself.”
“Didn’t catch your mother’s name. She grew up in Holtsville, you say?”
“Adell. My mama’s name was Adell Bolton,” Chloe answered, resorting to the rules of obeying her elders that her mother had preached since birth.
Cyrus wiped his brow again. “You’re dat model gal building the house. Odis’s grandbaby.”
This was a statement, not a question.
“That land is down the road from the Jamison boys.”
Chloe jumped as she realized that she may be getting somewhere with him. “Yes! Yes! Jamison Contractors are building the house…in Holtsville.” She put emphasis on the last two words.
“I know.” Cyrus smiled, revealing big white teeth which had to be false because they were just too perfect.
Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the fact that she had just lain around for nearly a year vacationing, but Chloe definitely felt her mind was not working at full capacity. Did this old man not know a lot of details about her, like her grandparents name, who was building the house and where the land was located? “Is this Holtsville?” She asked, her husky voice incredulous.
“Yes, yes it is.” He pulled a piece of wood and a sharp pocket knife from his pocket. “Them Jamison twins work hard, both of them. They sure woulda made their daddy proud. That big ol’ house of yours will stand strong for many generations to come.”
“Well I haven’t seen the house yet, but I’m anxious to.”
“So you’re the big time model everybody been talkin’ about, huh?” He had a way of asking questions that let you know he already knew the answers. He whittled as he talked
, slow but steady even with his gnarled fingers.
“Yes, I am.”
“Seen ya house, it’s comin’ along just fine.” The wood was shaping into a tiny figure.
“How far to my land?” Chloe pushed off the trunk of the car where she had been leaning. There was no denying the excitement she felt.
She listened intently as he finally offered assistance and gave her directions to her land. Thankfully, it was just a short distance from there. Chloe moved to hop back into the car but instead turn to extend her slender sable hand to him. “Thank you, Mr.—”
He wiped his hand on his overalls before he warmly clasped her own. “Cyrus Dobbs, and your Chloe.”
“Yes, Chloe Bolton. Thank you again, Mr. Dobbs.”
He closed the pocketknife and opened his other hand to her. A wooden angel rested in his wrinkled palms, small and delicate. As she paused, he said, “Take it child ‘fore my hand drops off.”
She picked up the figure, studying it. It was barely as big as her palm, but detailed down to the sleeping face. “This is for me?”
He nodded and studied her reaction intently with wise, aged eyes.
Touched, Chloe could only smile with a husky, “Thank you, it’s… it’s beautiful.”
“If you want, once you move in, I’ll take you to your grandparents’ graves, seeing as how you ain’t got no more family in Holtsville.”
Chloe felt the urge to kiss his grizzly cheek, but didn’t. “I would appreciate that, Mr. Dobbs.”
She climbed back into the car and started the engine, her wooden angel clutched in her palm. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Yup you sure will, and welcome home, angel.”
She waved and shifted into drive, steering the car back onto the main road. Chloe was glad she decided to come into town on a Sunday to see the land and the beginning structure of the house alone. Her eyes took in everything around her as she drove, and she felt an infinite connection to her mother, to the grandparents she didn’t know and to the generations of Bolton who had once lived in this small town.
Admission of Love Page 4