by Zuri Day
As much as he needed his assistant right now, Donovan was immediately concerned more about Sharon’s welfare and less about how her absence would affect the company’s productivity. When she’d felt the sharp pain a couple days ago, Sharon had told him she thought it was an embarrassing case of internal hemorrhoids, something she’d dealt with off and on since having her now-grown children. She’d taken over-the-counter medicines and, with the help of prescription-strength aspirin, had come back to work the next day saying she was as good as new. Obviously, that was not the case.
Donovan’s voice was laced with concern. “Do they know what it is?”
“A colon tear, brought on by an infection that I didn’t know I had. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t even think about apologizing for something you can’t control. The main concern here is you getting better. I don’t want you to focus on anything but that.”
“But the project. I know how you feel about the confidential nature—”
“Don’t worry about it. Sharon, I’m serious. There’s nothing more important than your getting well. We’ll be okay here until you get back.”
“How does one’s colon’s tear anyway?”
An inquisitive mind, a love for research and attention to detail were just a few of the qualities that made Sharon a top-notch assistant. “I’m sure that before you leave that hospital, you’ll know at least as much about what’s going on as the doctor.”
“Donovan, my daughter is rushing me off the phone. Because of her, I’ll probably feel more pain in the you-know-what than if I had hemorrhoids!”
“Ha! Give Patrice my phone number so that during your surgery she can keep me updated. And I meant what I said, Sharon. Don’t worry about work—we’ll be fine. Focus on getting better.”
Donovan ended the call and then heaved a sigh. Talk about bad timing. A couple unplanned sales trips, not to mention his increased jaunts to Louisiana, plus the festivities surrounding Diamond’s wedding had put him way behind. They were all part of the reason the Herculean task of setting up the database and then inputting the more than ten thousand potential customers for this group of exclusive wines, plus marking out business partners and naming the product—all tasks requiring the utmost confidentiality—had been pushed back to the two-week period following the wedding when the resort had calmed back down. This delay, and another inevitable interruption, otherwise known as the upcoming Fourth of July holiday, and he was pushed right up against an unmovable timeline. Attorneys, accountants, consultants and other participating third parties were all lined up, waiting and ready to put their piece of this new financially rewarding puzzle in place.
Dammit!
“Wow, it’s beautiful out here.” Donovan closed his eyes against the sound of the woman that Sharon’s call had helped put out of his mind. Marissa stood beside him as he leaned across the railing. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“It’s public property,” Donovan replied huffily. He pushed off of the railing, stuffed his hands in his pocket and moved away a couple feet.
Marissa eyed his actions in slight amazement. Was he really still simmering over what happened months ago? That she hadn’t shown up for a lousy glass of wine? She’d told him that she’d arrived at the bar and she’d told him why she had left. What else did he want from her? An apology written in blood?
The rehearsal dinner was over so the logical thing for Marissa to do was to turn around without another word and head back to the peace and quiet of her San Diego apartment. But logic had obviously gone on vacation and its nemesis, crazy, was calling the shots. So Marissa pressed forward. “The rehearsal dinner went well, and the hill is such a perfect place for the ceremony. Diamond’s wedding is going to be lovely.”
His silence was deafening.
“I would wonder whether or not you’ve been taught manners, but since I’ve met your mother, I know that answer is yes. So I can only assume you’re being a jerk, still smarting over a slight that happened months ago.” Nothing moved on the veranda, not even the wind. “I can be ignored by you all night.” How well I’m dealing with it is another story altogether. There hadn’t been a moment all evening when Marissa hadn’t been aware of Donovan’s presence, how good he looked as Jackson’s best man and how much he was admired by the other women. “Your sister is marrying my boss, which means our paths may cross on occasion. I don’t think being civil is too much to ask.”
Donovan wheeled around in a manner so uncharacteristic that Marissa took a step back. “So I’m supposed to care about what you think?” The words came out in clipped fashion; his voice was low, almost too calm.
Later, Marissa would wonder at her uncharacteristically flippant response. “You can do what you want. But I’d think that someone of your intelligence would understand when a situation is untenable. As I stated before, given who I met in the parking lot, coming in to meet you in the restaurant would have been a problem.”
“You think you’re the only one who’s had a problem with the opposite sex? You don’t get to corner the market on bad situations, and I don’t have to engage you in friendly conversation.” The words hit their mark; evidenced by the frozen expression on Marissa’s face and the hurt look in her eyes. “Look, Marissa, I’m sorry to snap at you. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“And you obviously need a lot of room to think about all of what’s on there. I’ll leave you to it.” The click-clack of her heels sounded as she made quick work of the distance between the veranda’s edge and the door. Going after her was not an option. Not only would that capture every Drakes’ attention within a one-mile radius but he wouldn’t have a clue of what to say about his brutish behavior. Obviously, he’d said too much already.
Chapter 4
The female guests had been asked to wear designs in predominate shades of purple or blue, meant to complement the brilliant cobalt sky of a picture-perfect summer day. The men had been told to dress in casual suits, shades of tan, beige or ivory preferred. Wanting her wedding to be visually coordinated in these hues, the color black had been highly discouraged. Okay, banned. All two hundred guests had complied, causing the people bouquet to match the appropriately tinted flowers: tie-dyed dendrobium orchids, irises, anemones, hydrangea, roses and million star baby’s breath. The bridesmaids wore various shades of blue or tan while the maid of honor’s dress was a rich, deep navy, which matched the best man’s suit. The groomsmen carried on the tan/beige/ivory theme, a nod to the mounds surrounding the golf course and the stone pathways that could be seen from the hill. Kathleen Fitzpatrick’s granddaughter was the flower girl, a redheaded bundle of fluffy baby-blue organza. The maid of honor’s ivory-suited son bore the rings. Both Diamond and Jackson wore dazzling white, and they looked not only amazing, but ridiculously in love. The tearjerker had been when three generations of Drakes—Diamond’s father, Donald; her grandfather David, Jr.; and her great-grandfather, David, Sr.—walked her down the aisle. The comic relief had come when Papa Dee nudged Jackson, tilted his head toward Diamond and said, “That’s one feisty filly. Best watch yourself.” No matter that the loudly whispered suggestion was only heard by the first two rows. It became the most repeated statement of the day. Best watch yourself. The temperature had been a forgiving seventy-two degrees; the greenery of the vineyard and surrounding lawns had wrapped all of them in nature’s flawless tranquility.
It was, quite simply, the most beautiful wedding Marissa had ever witnessed. That she’d gotten to see it all from the position of bridesmaid, and given the fact that Diamond’s large wedding entourage had made her role one mostly of administrative support, Marissa should have been almost as happy as the bride. But she wasn’t. Even now, the smile she wore was as pasted on as the tail of the donkey at a six-year-old’s birthday party. The banter she’d kept up for Diamond’s sake as they rode in the pimped-out golf cart (white tulle, Swarovski-encrusted canopied top, spinning hubcaps—yes, on a golf cart) that whisked them from the gazebo-covered hilltop to the dress chang
e awaiting in the main house, was more to stifle her own thoughts than to ensure Diamond’s continued good mood.
Bottom line? Marissa was masking an emotional odor that stank to high heavens. She was, simply stated, in a funk.
Anyone watching would have had to admit she was nothing if not a trouper, prattling on while working to not become engulfed in the endless yards of Diamond’s puffy chiffon, twenty-foot court train. It didn’t matter that Diamond and her brand-new husband, Jackson, were riding in the middle row of the six-seater golf cart, directly in front of her. The train’s presence was everywhere. “Your great-grandfather was so funny, and his more seriously delivered words of wisdom were amazing,” Marissa continued, maneuvering the train and talking as if her voice would disappear if the words stopped. “What he said about the long slow walk beating a fast sprint any day—” she chuckled “—everyone listening knew exactly what that meant! I can’t believe that he’s almost a hundred years old. He doesn’t look a day over eighty, seventy even.” Even in her frazzled state of mind she thought that saying someone looked eighty didn’t sound good, even though she’d just shaved twenty years off someone’s existence. “Well, what I meant to say was—”
“It’s all right, Marissa,” Diamond said, her hand in midair to ward off the oratorical flow. “And I don’t mean to be rude. I just need to gather my thoughts and…” The sentence died on Diamond’s lips as Jackson placed his arm around her shoulders.
“Of course.” Marissa looked between her boss and Diamond and for the first time noticed a strain on her face. Considering how flawless the ceremony had gone, and given the meticulous organization of the upcoming dinner and dance, what was there to be worried about? “I’m sorry, girl, going on and on like that.” Jackson gave an almost imperceptible nod, one that Marissa caught only because he’d been her employer for several years. His expression prompted her to ask the question that must have shown in her eyes. Her voice lowered to a near whisper as she looked at Diamond. “What’s wrong?” She noticed Diamond’s deep breath, and she could have sworn that tears also threatened. “What is it?” Marissa asked again with growing concern.
“We received some troubling news last night. One of our employees had emergency surgery and is in very critical condition.”
Marissa placed a hand on her friend’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Diamond. Was it someone who works in the PR department?”
Diamond shook her head. “It’s Donovan’s assistant. Sharon has been with the company for twenty years. She’s like family to us all.”
Donovan’s assistant. Like family. That’s what was wrong last night. The reason he’d been quiet after the rehearsal dinner, and so withdrawn… No wonder he’d lashed out at her. I’m sorry to snap at you. I’ve got a lot on my mind.
By the time she’d rounded the golf cart to help Diamond and the maid of honor with the gargantuan train, four more carts had pulled up behind them. Her personal assistant for the day, a young college intern working in PR for the summer, jumped out of the cart and was at Diamond’s side in an instant. Jackson shooed him away as he turned, lifted Diamond from the cart and deftly placed her on the ground. The rest of the wedding entourage, including Diamond’s stylist, hairdresser and makeup artist, all began walking toward the building where Diamond would change into her second dress. It was a good thing that there were so many people to help, leaving any assistance needed from Marissa to be minimal at best. Because all she could think about was Donovan and how unfairly she’d treated him.
She’d been so quick to lump him into the jerk category with the rest of the men she’d recently encountered when nothing could have been further from the truth. The eldest Drake sibling was just as she’d first believed him to be: considerate and thoughtful, and now she could add caring. He’d been preoccupied with his concern for someone else, someone who wasn’t even a family member but a longtime employee. It’s how Jackson would have reacted, with fierce loyalty and unwavering focus. That’s because her boss, Jackson Wright, was a good man. Now, she was convinced that the same was true of Donovan Drake. And before the end of the day, come hell or high water, she was going to let him know how she felt.
Chapter 5
“That was a beautiful toast, brother,” Jackson said once Donovan had taken his seat and the applause had subsided. They were seated on a raised dais facing the wedding guests seated at round tables of ten.
“Meant every word. There was a time when I doubted whether or not you were good enough for my sister.”
“And now?”
“Couldn’t find a better brother.” Donovan felt his phone vibrate. His body instantly tensed as he pulled it from his pocket and discreetly held it under the table as he read the message.
“Everything okay?” Jackson asked.
Donovan sighed. “Get Diamond’s attention.” Jackson tapped Diamond and gave her a kiss as she turned to face him. Her lips met Jackson’s, but then her eyes were squarely on her brother. “Did they text you?”
Donovan nodded. “They are scheduling another surgery first thing tomorrow.”
“On a Sunday?” Diamond sounded shocked. “Donovan, I totally understand if you need to leave and go to the hospital.”
Donovan slowly nodded, knowing the strain of the situation was showing on his face.
“Oh, wow,” Diamond continued, as if finally understanding the gravity of the entire situation.“Your project! You’re supposed to be pulling it all together in the next two weeks.”
“I know,” Donovan said, hating to bring such a topic into their wedding celebration but knowing that Diamond totally understood.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I thought about asking Mama to help—”
Diamond released an unladylike snort. “Good luck with that.” While Genevieve had worked in the offices during the first couple years, she’d been a stay-at-home and run-the-home mother for more than three decades.
“What about Marissa?” Jackson asked, looking at Donovan. After not getting an immediate answer, he swung his head toward his wife. “What do you think, baby? There isn’t going to be anything major happening at my company while I’m away, and—” he turned and continued the thought with Donovan in his line of sight “—whatever your project entails, I’m sure Marissa can handle it. She’s an intelligent woman who catches on quick and has a knack for breaking the big picture into manageable bites. You know what, Donovan? I like the idea. Your project is of a sensitive nature, and I know that Marissa could be trusted with this confidential material. Right, baby?”
Diamond looked at her new husband with a smile. “No doubt. Marissa seems loyal to a fault.”
A scowl passed across Jackson’s face so quickly that Donovan thought he imagined it. “If you give her something to do, she’ll get the job done.”
Diamond took a sip of her champagne. “What do you say, brother? I think Jackson has suggested a solution to your problem, and, while we’ll all not totally rest until Sharon is well, at least this part of your business will only be minimally affected.”
Their conversation was interrupted as their father, Donald Drake, stood to make a toast. Several other toasts followed and the dinner service began. Halfway through the entrée, a delectable combination of Dungeness crab, Kobe beef tenderloin, Bhutanese rice and steamed vegetables, Jackson made a move that had it not been for the deliciousness of the food would have ruined Donovan’s appetite. He requested a pen and pad from one of the floating waiters, then quickly scribbled ten numbers onto the sheet of Drake Resort stationery. Above the numbers was one word: Marissa. And without even thinking about it, Donovan knew that the number on that paper was a game changer. He didn’t know the name of the game or the rules. But he knew who would be playing.
* * *
It was a shame to waste such delicious food, but Marissa couldn’t get a bite of the tender beef or a spear of the perfectly steamed broccoli past the lump in her throat. Didn’t matter. If she had, the food would have just co
llided with the knot in her stomach. She was seated at a table with other bridesmaids and groomsmen, including Reginald, one of Donovan’s first cousins, who’d been bugging her nonstop ever since they’d been paired up for the walk down the aisle. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy. In fact, he was fine: tall, butterscotch complexion, a pretty boy. Nice enough, too. Another time, another day and she would have been interested. But her thoughts, and eyes, kept shifting to Donovan, who for better or worse was seated directly in her line of vision. She’d watched as her boss conversed with him and Diamond, and she’d also noticed when one of the waiters was summoned. Unfortunately, Reginald, the determined groomsmen from New Orleans, chose this time to begin a lengthy conversation—translated, monologue, because “ums” and head nods could hardly be counted as contributions—about some type of business that was expanding in Asia that later, for the life of her, Marissa would not be able to recall. She tried to split her focus between what her tablemate was saying and what was happening on the dais beyond her but Reginald asked her a question and by the time she answered it and looked up, the waiter was leaving the head table, Jackson was talking to Diamond and Donovan was sitting there with a frown on his face. What had happened?
“Should I take your silence as a no?”
Marissa turned to Reginald. “I’m sorry, my mind—” attention, interest, focus, you name it “—was elsewhere. What did you say?”
“I asked if you’d ever attended the Essence Music Festival.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“But you’ve been to New Orleans before, right?”
“Actually, no.” And if there’s a chance I’ll run into your nonstop chatter, I probably won’t make it down there anytime soon! Marissa immediately felt bad at the thought. Considering that she’d been the oratorical fountain earlier in the day she really was one to, well, talk.