by Zuri Day
“We wanted to take care of you.”
“The layers of cream and champagne paired with the platinum fixtures and accessories give the room a very rich yet light feel.”
“You’ll have to let Diamond know how much you like it. She’ll appreciate it.”
“You guys seem like a really close-knit family.”
“We are.”
“I read a little about the history of Drake Wines. But what about your family history? Do you mind sharing?”
“Not at all.” His countenance became as relaxed as Marissa had seen it as he chatted easily, initially forgoing her question about the family to describe the evening’s wines. Waiters returned and removed their salad plates before setting down bowls of chilled avocado soup along with glasses of a light chardonnay. He watched in rapt fascination as Marissa enjoyed a spoonful of the soup, the way her eyes closed in pleasure and her tongue darted out to catch the bit on her lip. He was immediately envious of her tongue, wishing it was his that was taking the drop away, before using that same tongue to part her lips and plunder her mouth, drowning in her sweetness.
“What? Is there something on my lip?” Marissa asked. She gently patted the area Donovan was staring at with her napkin.
“No.”
“Oh.”
Donovan forced his eyes away from her lips by taking a deliberate spoonful of soup. The moment, filled with unspoken this and unnamed that, came with a type of energy that seemed to settle in the room. For the first time Marissa was aware of light jazz playing in the background. Had it always been there or was this music inside her head, played from heartstrings being pulled in various directions?
“The land has been in the family for generations,” Donovan offered after a couple sips of soup. “It’s a long story, but the short of it is that during the gold rush, my adventurous ancestor, Nicodemus, came west with the Drakes of Louisiana. During the trip his master, who was more like a brother since the two had grown up together, almost died. Nicodemus saved his life and the family was so grateful that they willed him this portion of land.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. And he had the foresight to start a vineyard?”
“No, that was my great-grandfather’s vision.”
“Ah, yes, I remember now. Papa Dee. His story is in the room’s welcome brochure. He was born in the house on the hill as I recall, what has become the honeymoon suite.”
“You recall correctly.”
“You must be proud to have such a rich family history.”
“I am.” Donovan nodded. “My family has worked hard to do right by this land. That’s probably one of the reasons that I take the work so seriously. Maybe it’s just my personality, maybe it’s because I’m the oldest in this generation, but I feel the weight of the Drake legacy on my shoulders.”
Marissa noted that his shoulders looked broad enough to carry the load. “From what I’ve seen so far it appears that you’re doing an awesome job.”
“I try.” Donovan finished his soup and pushed the bowl away as he sat back. “I remember your telling Mama that you have a brother, correct?”
“Yes, it’s just the two of us.”
“Older, correct?”
“Yes, by three years, and married. They are expecting their second child.”
“Congratulations.” The ever-observant Donovan noticed Marissa’s slight change of mood. Figuring that he could guess the cause of it, he decided to go ahead and venture down the road. “What about you? Are marriage and kids on the horizon?”
“Like yesterday, if my mother has her say.”
“Ha! Is her name Genevieve?”
“No, it’s Yolanda. But like yours, my mother is chomping at the bit for me to be married, almost pushing me down the aisle.”
“Ha! Boy, do I know that feeling. She’s been trying to marry me off since I turned twenty-five.”
“I’d have figured someone like you would be married already.”
“Who’s someone like me?”
Marissa cocked her head as she pondered the answer. “Unlike your brother, who is a big ol’ playboy, you seem more serious, more focused. I don’t know. You don’t strike me as the club-going guy with dozens of random phone numbers stashed on your phone. Of course, I could be totally wrong about you but—”
“No, you’re nailing it on the head pretty good.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Marissa hurriedly continued, lest Donovan take offense to what she’d just said. They were having such a cordial moment she didn’t want to spoil it. “In fact, it’s refreshing to talk with someone who isn’t trying to hit on me every other sentence.”
“I was just getting around to that.”
His face was serious, but Marissa detected the twinkle in his eye. She was starting to see the human that lived behind the stuffed shirt that walked around the office. And she was very much liking what she saw. So much so that she decided to be honest and share her very limited love experience.
“I grew up in a loving but sheltered environment. Great for building feelings of security, not so great in developing an eye for choosing the right man. I met my first real boyfriend in college. He was not only domineering and verbally abusive, but unfaithful, as well.”
“Damn.”
“I know, quite the trifecta. During those first six months he was charming, protective. That’s how I saw it. What I thought was consideration for my well-being was actually control. By the time I’d figured that out, I’d already been in the relationship a year and was hopelessly in love. My first time out the gate and that was my love experience. Left me quite traumatized, as you can imagine.”
“Was that the guy you ran into that night? At the restaurant?”
“No. Like I’ve said, that man and I never dated. He was my best friend. At least that’s what I thought....” The brightness in her eyes dimmed, replaced with a sadness that Donovan immediately wanted to alleviate.
“We don’t have to talk about him,” he said.
“Thank you.” They ate a few moments in silence. “What about you? Why aren’t you married?”
“We don’t have to talk about that either,” was Donovan’s dry reply.
Marissa chuckled. “Touché. But you seem like a good person, and you come from a good family.” Sitting back she eyed him, as if giving him due consideration. “I think you’ll get married one day,” she concluded.
Donovan looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Yes,” he said at last. “Maybe one day.”
Chapter 13
By the time dinner had ended, Marissa felt she and Donovan were less like strangers and more like associates who one day just might be friends. Along with preferring jazz to hip-hop, wine to hard liquor and summer climates to winter snows, a love for business was also common ground. Marissa was finally understanding Donovan’s wry sense of humor. When they left the restaurant and walked into the picture-perfect night, with its star-filled velvety blue sky and gentle breeze, she could tell that neither was ready for the evening to end.
“I’d ask if you’d like to go for a walk, but those shoes don’t look too comfortable.”
“Are you saying you don’t like my heels?” Marissa teased. Another thing she’d noticed and appreciated about Donovan was his directness. It was so unlike the glib tongues of most of the men she encountered, ready with endless compliments and come-ons meant to flatter and take her off guard.
“They’re very nice. But they’re what my mother calls ‘sit down’ shoes. As in, there are shoes you purchase to walk in and others that are meant to simply look good, that can take you from the door to a chair. Those look like the latter.”
“Your mother is a wise woman. If you give me two minutes, I can change my shoes and would love to go for a walk. That chocolate lava cake was sinful, and I think I can already feel it wrapping around my thighs.”
Less than ten minutes later, Marissa rejoined Donovan in the hotel lobby. She’d changed from her suit into an ankle-length dress with a floral design and
flat sandals. Donovan had removed his jacket. As they exited the restaurant into the warm night, he rolled up his shirt sleeves. They began walking along a cobbled path that led through one herb garden, then another floral one and on to a pond and waterfall about half a mile away. Theirs was a companionable silence, enjoying the sights and sounds of the evening as each waded through a myriad of thoughts.
“His name is Steven,” Marissa said at last.
“Huh?”
“The man who was at the bar that night. His name is Steven. We met in college and became best friends.” Donovan, as if sensing the delicacy of the moment, remained silent. She continued, “I met him during my first day of classes and since it was my first time really away from home his friendly, carefree personality was just what I needed. I’m more of an introvert by nature, normally more comfortable surrounded by those I know and who know me. My parents were overly protective of me and my brother, me mostly, so when I went off to college my experience with men in particular was limited. I hadn’t even had a boyfriend.” Marissa glanced at Donovan to gauge his reaction, but his face was a mask. “Steven was a sophomore and he showed me the ropes, where everything was and who to watch out for.”
“He didn’t try to date you?”
“He did, but I just wasn’t feeling him like that. He always felt more like my brother. In fact, he even reminded me of Timothy.”
“Timothy is your brother?”
Marissa nodded. “He started dating someone, and I met Joseph, the guy I told you about at dinner, the controlling, serial cheater…my first boyfriend. Even though his girlfriend never liked me, Steven and I continued to be friends. He never liked Joseph either and told me so, but I was too caught up to listen. Leaving him was the one piece of advice from Steven that I wish I’d heeded. I should have left him after the first affair, and definitely after finding out he’d fathered a child. Things look very different when you’re eighteen.”
“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. We’ve all made bad relationship choices, especially during the teens and twenties. We barely know ourselves. And what you were dealing with? That had to be a hard situation. Especially at such a young age.”
“Yes, and especially considering it was my first experience with relationships. My self-esteem took a pounding.” They reached a bench on the far side of the pond. Marissa sat down. Donovan joined her. “Not long after breaking up with Joseph, I met another man.”
Again, that look of sadness that Donovan wanted to permanently erase. “What happened with him?” His voice was soft, filled with compassion. When she remained silent, he prodded, “Another cheater?”
Her smile was wistful in response. “Yes, he found another woman, one that I definitely couldn’t compete with.” She looked at Donovan. “Her name was cocaine.”
“I’m so sorry, Marissa.”
“Me, too. Except for the addiction, he was a good guy.” A helicopter could be heard in the distance. The two became quiet as they scoured the sky, finally spotting the blinking red light just behind them. As it continued its southerly journey toward San Diego, Marissa continued, “Anyway, after putting that relationship behind me, I decided to focus on work. Steven and I became close friends again.”
“You’d grown apart?”
“His girlfriend had convinced him to end our friendship, which he did, until they broke up.”
Donovan’s eyes were thoughtful as he looked into the distance. “Being that he was such a good friend to you, it’s interesting that you didn’t date.”
“He felt the same way.” Donovan noticed the tightness in her voice, but when he looked over, Marissa had regained control of whatever emotion his comment had evoked. “But I was never physically attracted to him. And with my second breakup happening so quickly after the first one, I was over men, period. I needed a break.”
Donovan nodded his understanding. “So by now you’d graduated college?”
“Yes, and lucky for me, Steven was climbing the corporate ladder at a technology company. He told me about a job opening and I ended up working at the same company, though in a different department. He seemed to be okay with the fact that I said I wasn’t interested, and our friendship continued.”
“He seemed to be okay with it, huh? Obviously something happened that proved otherwise.”
Marissa nodded. “The night he took me out for my birthday.”
“What happened then?” Donovan asked, leaning forward slightly to catch Marissa’s soft-spoken words.
“He tried to r—” She cleared her throat. “He put something in my drink.”
“He drugged you?”
“That was his plan. He and I were drinking at the bar and when I left to use the restroom, a couple seated next to us saw him put something in my drink. When I came back, they told me.”
“And you believed them.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because after using the restroom,” Marissa said as she looked out across the pond, “we were supposed to go to his house. He’d said he had something to show me. It was the timing and the look on his face when the couple told me what he’d done. He vehemently denied it but my intuition told me they were telling the truth.”
“Marissa.” Donovan’s voice was filled with compassion and something else. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. I know what it’s like to be betrayed—how much it hurts. I’ve been there.” Marissa looked at him in surprise. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
Donovan looked at his watch. “Maybe I’ll tell you one of these days.”
“It sounds like when it comes to broken hearts, you know exactly what I mean.”
“It took a while, but I’m over the hurt that my ex caused me. My problem right now is timing. Lately work is the only woman I’m dating. And speaking of, I’ve got a seven o’clock breakfast meeting in the morning. I’m going to call it a night.”
He walked her back to the hotel lobby and saw her safely to the elevator doors. He returned to his parents’ home and was glad to see the house quiet. There was too much on his mind to feel like talking to anyone. He prepared for the following day and took a shower in an effort to calm down his body from hours of inhaling Marissa’s scent. He lay down, but could not fall asleep.
As was always the case when there was a project before him, his mind whirled, continually breaking down what needed to be accomplished into manageable portions and then figuring out the most effective way to proceed. That is what kept him awake at this moment, running various scenarios to accomplish his end goal. He tossed and turned, and as the beginnings of sleep finally overcame him he was satisfied with the strategy now taking shape. He’d told Marissa that there were good men out there. You’ve got nine days to get in those panties. But that’s not how Donovan saw it. He figured he had nine days, no, eight now, to show her just what a good man looked like.
Chapter 14
Donovan pulled into his reserved parking space just before eight o’clock. He’d awakened to a text saying that the Wednesday morning breakfast meeting with San Diego’s African American Chamber of Commerce had been canceled due to an emergency with the president of that organization’s family. But rather than turn over for a few more winks, he’d gotten out of bed, showered and enjoyed breakfast with Papa Dee, the only family member who’d been stirring at that time of day. He felt good, relaxed, as if a load had been lifted. The cause, of course, was Marissa and the wonderful time they’d had last night. The corner they’d turned, the new path of friendship they’d traveled. His heart was smiling, and as Donovan neared the executive offices he wondered if he’d ever felt like this before.
Entering the break room, Donovan was surprised to see the coffee machine on with pots of java and hot water all ready. It was a rare day that somebody beat him to work. Thinking that maybe in Diamond’s absence one of the marketing assistants had decided to begin work on the fall campaign, he headed toward the PR and marketing arm of the company. On his way he passed th
e filing room, and he stopped when he saw a shard of light from under the door.
“Good morning, Jo—” he began. At the vision in front of him, the words died on his lips. It wasn’t Jodie combing through past marketing pieces as he’d assumed but Marissa, seated on the floor with several files around her, going through the archived company photos he’d told her about last night, hundreds that had yet to be scanned into the computer, a back-burner project for the next intern. She didn’t notice him at first. A closer look that revealed earbuds and her slightly bobbing head provided the explanation. He took advantage of the unguarded moment and noticed how an errant strand of hair followed the curve of her jaw and rested alongside her slender neck, the one he’d imagined running his lips across and tongue against. In the few days she’d worked there, he realized this loose ponytail on top of the head was her go-to style. He liked it, too, sort of like her personality, on the quiet, conservative side but with a bit of devil-may-care to show that life shouldn’t be taken too seriously.
Today she wore jeans, the low-riding kind. Her top was a simple printed number, and when she leaned forward to place a picture back in its file, he saw the strings of the pink thong she wore. There was pink in the print of her top, as well. Donovan smiled his approval at her aesthetic awareness. And again that hint at flirtatiousness, a carefree, girly-girl side.
To her right, against the wall, was a pair of wedge sandals, Donovan guessed three or four inches high. No wonder she was barefoot as she sat cross-legged on the floor. Who could reach the floor without breaking something in those towering things? Her toes were nice, too, he decided, painted in a respectful and corporate-conscious color of beige. He wanted to rub her feet, kiss her toes. He wanted to make intimate acquaintance with every area between there and those loose tendrils down the side of her face. His manhood twitched, growing hard at the ready. Donovan forced his thoughts elsewhere, took a long deep breath and reminded himself of his plan: to show Marissa the face of a good man.