“It doesn’t matter, she’ll get over it,” Cleveland said. But he knew that she could hold a grudge. Lillian was still miffed that Cleveland and Freddie made a mad dash from the reception and didn’t show up to take the final pictures.
“Yeah, but you will be hearing about it for a while. Was your romp with the maid of honor worth it?” Darren asked, folding his hands underneath his chin like a therapist.
“You’re trying to live vicariously through me now since you’re an old married man with a kid on the way?” Cleveland laughed. “Winfred Barker was the most amazing woman that I’ve ever seen naked.”
Darren shook his head. “I still can’t believe you slept with her.”
“We didn’t do much sleeping, if you know what I mean,” Cleveland said as the image of Freddie straddling his body in the dingy hotel room flashed in his mind. Licking his lips, he relived the taste of her lips, nipples, and everything else he’d tasted that night.
“So, you have no problem having a one night stand? What are you, a college frat boy?” Darren asked.
“Just because you’re an old married man doesn’t mean I have to follow your lead,” he said, feeling as if his brother was judging him. “We’re adults, it happens.”
“Still, when are you going to find something more meaningful ?”
“When the time is right. And to be honest with you, there is something about Freddie that . . . Never mind. Just know that it was mind blowing sex.” But could it have been more than that?
“Whatever. Your time off is approved and I hope you don’t go to New Orleans and come back with another tale of casual sex. Isn’t that chick Freddie from New Orleans?”
Cleveland smiled. “She sure is. Maybe I’ll look her up.”
Sitting in her office at The French Garden Inn, Freddie tried to focus on the reservations that were due in over the next few days. Then she came across his name.
Cleveland Alexander.
“This can’t be right,” she mumbled. Closing her eyes, she pressed her fingers into her temples. She was never supposed to see this man again. He wasn’t supposed to come to New Orleans and stay at her boutique hotel for Mardi Gras. And because she’d lost her home to Hurricane Katrina, the hotel also happened to be her home.
Freddie had been living in the hotel since the storm while she decided if she wanted to rebuild her home or not. She’d thought about selling the hotel and relocating, but before she could decide, she had to find out what her mother had been hiding from her about her father.
All of her life, Freddie was under the impression that her father had abandoned the family at a time when they needed him most. Her mother had lost her job, the hotel that the family owned was in disrepair, and her dad just disappeared. Still, it didn’t make sense that once Jacques Babineaux was out of their lives that things started looking up. Money appeared out of nowhere and Loraine didn’t explain any of it. She said that her father was a selfish bastard and he was as good as dead.
But following Katrina, Freddie found out Jacques hadn’t disappeared because he wanted to, he had been sent to federal prison. Freddie had to know why and why he’d never reached out to his only child when she needed him most.
Growing up, things weren’t easy for Freddie, and her mother fed her a batch of lies about her father that eventually colored her relationship with men.
What she didn’t need was to see Cleveland again. He had sparked a passionate fire inside her that she didn’t want ignited again.
Of all the hotels in New Orleans, why had he chosen hers? She picked up the phone and called every hotel within a five mile radius, hoping she could reroute Cleveland, but the answer was the same. No vacancies.
Freddie bit her lip as she hung up the phone, there was no two ways about it—she was spending Mardi Gras with Cleveland Alexander. There was no way to avoid him. She was a very hands-on owner during Mardi Gras, helping her overwhelmed staff and handing beads to her guests as they entered. How was she going to handle seeing Cleveland walk through the entrance of the hotel and having to hand him a string of beads? What was going to happen when her hand grazed his skin or if his fingers touched hers, ever so gently? Would her body suffer a series of hormonal explosions, causing her to leap into his arms and kiss him as if they were the only two people left on the earth?
But what if he isn’t alone? a voice whispered in the back of her head. Freddie figured that Cleveland was probably going to come to The Big Easy with a woman. He probably doesn’t even think about what happened after Lillian’s wedding, she surmised. Rising to her feet, Freddie decided that she wasn’t going to let Cleveland’s presence bother her. They were adults who shared a one time sexual experience and neither of them would cross that line ever again.
After Cleveland packed for his trip, he headed to Louis and Lillian’s new house in Stone Mountain. Somehow he was going to have to charm Freddie’s address out of Lillian Freeman.
Cleveland knew it wasn’t going to be an easy task. Bounding up the steps, he rang the doorbell and waited for Lillian to answer.
Lillian opened the door with a scowl on her face. “What are you doing here? Louis is at the fire station, thanks to you.”
Cleveland smiled. “Can’t I come by and check on you?”
“In the five years I’ve known you, you’ve never done anything that didn’t benefit yourself. Just like my wedding. Louis told me he had to bribe you. If he was really your friend, you would’ve done it with a smile.” She folded her arms across her chest. “So, Cleveland, what do you really want?”
“Why are you so hard on a brother? May I come in?” he asked.
“Only because my mother taught me manners am I going to invite you in,” Lillian said as she stepped aside. “So, what do you want?”
Cleveland sighed and realized that charm wasn’t going to work with Lillian. “I need a favor.”
“Ha! You got some nerve.” She flipped her hair and pursed her lips together in a tight line. “What do you want?”
“You know I’m going down to New Orleans,” he began.
Lillian shook her head furiously. “I will not give you Winfred’s number. See, I knew something was going to happen between you two. You kept looking at her like you wanted to rip her clothes off in the middle of the reception hall. Then you two stayed out all night. She doesn’t need what you bring into her life.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “You don’t know anything about me. I mean, I don’t want to do anything to Freddie that she doesn’t want me to do. Besides, I’ve never been to New Orleans and I was hoping that she could show me around.”
“Show you around? She’s not going to have time for that being that she’ll be running her business,” Lillian snapped. “Why don’t you get out of here? Freddie is like a sister to me and women are disposable to you. I’m not going to watch you do that to my friend.”
“Whatever, Lillian. I don’t know why you have this negative image of me built up in your head. All I want to do is tell the woman hello, since I’m going to be in her city.”
Sighing, Lillian shook her head again. “That’s not all you want and I’m not stupid. The two of you didn’t spend my wedding night together just talking.”
“You make it sound as if we did something wrong. We’re grown-ups and guess what, she doesn’t need your protection. What is she, a child?”
“I’m going to say it again. Freddie is my friend and I wouldn’t want my worst enemy to get involved with a man like you,” Lillian said.
“A man like me?”
She nodded and pointed her finger at his chest. “Freddie is more than just someone to warm your bed. Just let it go, Cleveland. She has a lot going on and she doesn’t need you to add to it.”
“Okay, Lillian, you think that I’m this evil person and I’m out to hurt every woman I run across. So, that explains why you and I have never gotten along. Maybe you should get to know me, I might surprise you,” he said as he turned and headed out the door.
&n
bsp; Though he left empty-handed, Cleveland wondered if Freddie was as fragile as Lillian was making her out to be. Maybe he should just forget about her. What they shared was a one time thing and there was no need to try and recreate that night.
Driving home, Cleveland decided that it was best to not even try to find Freddie in New Orleans. He was going to enjoy Mardi Gras and not think about the woman who rocked his world.
Chapter 7
Mardi Gras begins
Cleveland arrived in New Orleans after a turbulent flight. He’d never prayed so much to land on solid ground. Flying didn’t bother him, it was the crashing that got to him. As a firefighter, he’d cleaned up a plane crash at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport and there were no survivors. That day soured him on flying, since it was pilot error that caused the plane to skid off the runway and ram into a fuel truck.
“This is your captain speaking, we’re making our final descent into the Crescent City. Please make sure that your seat and tray tables are in an upright and locked position. The weather here is a pleasant sixty-five degrees and the humidity is low,” the pilot said.
“Thank God,” Cleveland muttered as he fastened his seat belt.
Once everyone had deplaned, Cleveland headed for the baggage claim and looked for the car service that Louis said would be waiting for him. He pulled his reservation confirmation out of his back pocket. The French Garden Inn was in the heart of the French Quarter and Cleveland had always heard that that was where he needed to be to enjoy the festival.
Cleveland smiled as he saw a man dressed in a black suit with a few dozen strings of Mardi Gras beads around his neck holding a sign with his name on it. This was definitely the greeting he was expecting.
“I’m Mr. Alexander,” he said as he handed the man his garment bag.
“Yes, sir,” the driver said, reaching out for Cleveland’s bag. “The car is right this way.”
Easing into the backseat of the car, Cleveland sank into the soft leather and closed his eyes. He was happy to be in the car and not in the air. Cleveland hadn’t realized that he dozed off until the driver tapped him on the shoulder.
“Sir, we’ve arrived.”
Cleveland wiped the side of his mouth checking for drool. “Thanks,” he said as he stepped out of the car. He smoothed his tan slacks and absorbed the scene. People dressed in bright colors ran around the streets, women lifted their tops as men hanging out on the balconies of their hotel rooms tossed beads down to the street. Shaking his head, Cleveland realized that he was going to enjoy himself. As the driver took his bags to the door, a buxom blonde walked up to Cleveland and planted a wet kiss on his lips.
“You are so freaking hot!” she exclaimed as she took a strand of her beads from around her neck and placed them around his.
“Ah, thanks,” he said as he pushed her away.
“Wanna come to my hotel room?”
“Baby, I just got here, let me check in and I’ll find you,” he said.
She waved her hand as if she knew that she wouldn’t see Cleveland again. “Whatever,” she shot back as she skipped down the street.
He shook his head and laughed as he headed into the hotel. A crush of people stood near the desk trying to get checked in. Glancing around the room, Cleveland eyed the women, whose style of dress ranged from conservative to freaky. A woman dressed in a pair of shorts that looked like underwear winked at him.
Shaking his head, Cleveland didn’t know what to think of all of these women who were just throwing themselves at him. It must have been the nature of the party. What he wouldn’t give to have Freddie wanting him the way these strangers did. He knew that New Orleans was way too big to go chasing after her. And he wasn’t going to. He came here to have fun and he wasn’t going to . . .
“Welcome to the French Garden Inn,” Freddie said.
Cleveland locked eyes with her. “Freddie,” he stammered.
She inhaled sharply. “Enjoy your stay,” she said as if she had no idea who he was. Cleveland nodded and headed to the front desk. He’d let her play this game now, but knowing that she worked in the hotel meant he would see her again. Cleveland walked up to the front desk and checked in. As he took his room key from the curvy brunette, he nodded toward Freddie. “What does she do here?” he asked.
“Miss Barker? She owns the place,” she said. “You can’t have a complaint already.”
He shook his head. “Not at all. I think she’s doing a wonderful job. Make sure you tell her I said so,” he said.
She furrowed her brows and nodded. Cleveland figured that she wouldn’t pass along the message, so he rushed up to his room and unpacked. Then he took a shower and changed into a pair of low slung blue jeans and a white button-down shirt that he left open to show off his sculpted chest. However, by the time he got downstairs, Freddie was gone.
No matter how prepared she thought she had been for Cleveland’s arrival, seeing him did something to her.
Enjoy your stay. What in the hell was I thinking? I knew he was coming, so I should’ve been prepared.
Even though the lobby was still filled with people, Freddie retreated to her room. She had to pull herself together because after seeing him her knees went weak, her mouth went dry and her heart sped up. Yet, all she could say was “Enjoy your stay.” She flung herself on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She knew that she couldn’t ignore him; she lived in the hotel and she would run into him. Freddie called down to the front desk.
“Yes, Miss Barker?” the front desk clerk asked.
“Cleveland Alexander, what room is he in?”
She could hear Jewel typing the information into the computer. “He’s in suite 7218.”
“What? Can you change his room?” Freddie exclaimed. Cleveland couldn’t stay there, it was right across the hall from her suite.
“Miss Barker, we don’t have any other rooms open. Is there a problem?”
“No, Jewel, I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll be down there in a little bit,” Freddie said.
“All right,” she replied, her voice filled with confusion. Freddie hung up the phone and groaned. How did this happen? Why hadn’t she gone into the computer to see what room he’d been assigned when she saw that he had a reservation at her place? Sitting up, Freddie ran her hand over her face and decided that she couldn’t put it off any longer, she had to go downstairs and help her staff. Besides, Cleveland was probably out enjoying the revelry of Mardi Gras. What man wouldn’t be out roaming the streets and enjoying the sights and highlights of the festival? It had been years since Freddie had a chance to enjoy Mardi Gras. She would kill for a King Cake right about now and some pralines. With her stomach growling, Freddie left her room and headed downstairs. As the elevator opened, she ran, chest first, into Cleveland.
“Whoa,” he said, “are you all right?” Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Freddie’s waist.
“I’m fine,” she said as she pushed away from him. “Just a little distracted, it’s busy here.”
“I can see that. I had no idea you owned this place,” he said.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Wait, do you think we can grab some dinner sometime this week?”
She stepped into the elevator as he stepped off. “I don’t think so. I’m going to be so swamped that I’ll barely have time to sleep.”
Before Cleveland could say another word, Freddie pressed the button and the elevator doors closed.
Standing in the hallway, Cleveland shook his head. Freddie was acting as if nothing had happened between them and he knew that she’d enjoyed their night together just as much as he had. He knew that before the week was over, they would have an instant replay of the night of Lillian’s wedding and when he was done with her this time, she wouldn’t forget or be able to get enough of what they were going to share. However, he wasn’t going to sit in his hotel room and pine away for her. He was going to check out the scene on Bourbon Street and hope that
when he returned Freddie would still be in the hotel. He headed downstairs and when he reached the front desk, where Freddie and her clerk were, he winked at Freddie, but didn’t say a word.
Once on Bourbon Street, Cleveland was swept up in the big party. Big brass bands played in the middle of the street, restaurants seemed more like clubs, and there were people everywhere. The smell of Po-Boys and sweet King Cakes wafted in the air. He found it hard to believe that this was the same city devastated by Hurricane Katrina. Cleveland decided that like New Orleans, he was going to go after Freddie with a renewed spirit. Though she tried to act as if she wasn’t affected by seeing him, he knew that she was. The heat between them was the same as it had been the night of Louis and Lillian’s wedding. Now that he knew he’d be seeing her, since she worked in the hotel, Cleveland started formulating a plan for the seduction of Freddie Barker. Seduction was a skill that he was well versed in and Winfred Barker was going to find out that he didn’t take no for an answer. Hungry and excited about the prospect of tasting Freddie again, he stopped a man passing by.
“Hey, excuse me, where can I get a great Po-Boy?” Cleveland asked.
The man smiled, then tugged at his beatnik beard. “Whatcha wanna do is take the street car to St. Charles and head on down Robert Street and hang a right on Ammunition Street. You gonna see Domilise’s Po-Boys. That place is amazing, but don’cha ask for extra gravy, you’ll never get it out of your shirt.”
Cleveland shook hands with the strange-looking man, thanked him and headed for the street car. The sights he saw caused him to wonder why it was taking so long for the Ninth Ward to be rebuilt when so many people were in town, dropping millions of dollars into the city’s economy. If Katrina had ruined the French Quarter, he couldn’t imagine that the state, the city and the federal government would’ve taken years to rebuild the place. The entire situation made him angry, helpless and distrustful of the people that were supposed to represent the citizens of New Orleans.
More Than He Can Handle Page 6