by Dara Girard
“Ow!” He narrowed his eyes. “Stop that.”
“Then stop lying. You’re behind the work on their house, aren’t you? How did you find out where they lived? How did you know all that needed to be done?” She paused as a thought came to her. “Oh, yes, your friend. The one whose number you gave me. He told you, right?”
“I thought you didn’t have time to waste.”
“How would I have afforded it if I hadn’t decided to work with you? Was this a preemptive strike so that I’d be forced to—”
“You have a nasty mind, you know that? I just wanted to help you. It had nothing to do with the case. When my friend told me how bad things were, I wanted to help you and...” He stopped and then suddenly laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
His eyes danced with humor. “We’re more alike than we’d like to admit.”
She frowned, annoyed. “How so?”
“I remember being suspicious of you when you helped my mother, and now you’re suspicious of me helping your parents. I guess when it comes to our families we’re very guarded and find it hard to trust people. But from now on, let’s start.”
Hannah shook her head. “But the repairs costs thousands and thousands of dollars, and you’re in a legal battle and—”
“And I never want to see you cry again like the way you did in the park.” He took her hand in his. “Hannah, I’m a nice guy. I did it because I wanted to and I could. I’m not flush with cash, but I still have a lot more than you do. Just accept it for what it is. A gift.”
It was hard for her to do so. It was hard for her to believe that her parents’ troubles were really over and that she wouldn’t be able to repay him in the same way. “What happens if I can’t find out what the Walkers are hiding?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
But it would matter to her. She couldn’t be indebted to him like this. She didn’t dare let herself believe that he could be this wonderful that he could really have fixed up her parents’ place at all cost to him because he cared about her that much. He could get any woman he wanted. Ones with far less drama in their lives than she had. Why would he have done something so amazing with no thought of return? Was this really who he was? Was he the kind of man who didn’t mind lazy weekends just shopping and going to lunch? Not just partying and late-night carousing? Was he really the kind of man who took charge of problems that overwhelmed her? Someone she could trust?
He said he wanted to prove who he really was to remove her prejudices about him, and this did just that. Or was it another type of seduction? Seducing her with his contacts and money?
Amal released her hand and sighed as if reading her thoughts. “I can’t have you thinking the worst of me every time I do something nice.”
“It’s not that.” It was, but Hannah knew she had to conquer her fears. She couldn’t keep second-guessing herself or him. She had to find out what he was really about, and one way to do that was to give him what they both wanted and deal with the consequences later. “Let’s do it tonight.”
“Let’s do what?” he asked, cutting through his fish.
She glanced around the restaurant and then lowered her voice. “It.”
He lost grip of his knife and it skidded across the table. “But you said—”
She waved her hand impatiently. “Forget what I said. Let’s do this. Come to my place around seven.”
He reached for his knife and absently set it on his plate. “You’re serious about this?”
“Yes.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” Amal said with force. “If there’s a chance you’ll change it again.”
“I won’t.” She stood. “Let’s go.”
Amal called over the waiter for the check. “Why now?”
She put her lips close to his ear and whispered, “I have to do a few things to prepare. Don’t you want me to be completely ready?”
Amal grinned and didn’t say another word.
* * *
Tonight was going to be one to remember. Amal emerged from his shower whistling. At last the mystery of Hannah Olaniyi would be solved. He could just picture her sprawled out naked on her bed, ready and willing. He was fully lost in his fantasy when his phone rang. He glanced at the number and then answered.
“Now’s not a good time,” he said to Hector.
“There’s a problem.”
He opened his closet and shuffled through his shirts. “Handle it. I’m busy.”
“It’s your mother.”
He selected a shirt and laid it on his bed. “What about her?”
“She’s had another episode.”
Chapter 10
Hannah stared at her wardrobe. What should she wear? Did it even matter? In a few minutes she wouldn’t be wearing anything anyway. She wanted this. She was ready for this moment and didn’t want anything to ruin it. Especially herself. She put on her sexiest underwear and then a simple dress. Something easy to pull on and off.
She set the stage in her bedroom—changing the sheets to the four-hundred-thread-count selection. She covered the lampshade with a light red cloth and then debated about spritzing the sheets with a subtle floral perfume, but she ultimately decided against it. She glanced at her setup, pleased with herself, and then went into the kitchen, where she had cheese and crackers arranged on a plate. She glanced at her watch. He should be there in minutes.
When the doorbell rang, she took one final look in the mirror before answering the door.
Bonnie stood there with a bottle of wine. “I thought you could help me open this. But from the look of disappointment on your face, I guess you were expecting someone else.”
“Yes, but it’s still good to see you,” Hannah said, not wanting her friend to feel bad.
“But if it’s Amal, you’re going to be disappointed.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s not coming. I guess my evening was ruined for the same reason yours is. I was with Hector enjoying—”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t need details.”
“Dinner and a movie,” Bonnie finished with a smug grin. “Then he gets this call and his face changes. He gets up and leaves the room and then apologizes and says he has to do something for Amal and rushes out.”
Hannah sighed, glancing at her clock again. Amal should have been there by now. Whatever had happened had stopped their evening together. She opened the door wider. “Come in. No reason for that bottle to go to waste.”
The two women sat in Hannah’s living room with the platter of cheese and crackers and enjoyed the wine. “So how is the case progressing?” Bonnie asked.
“There isn’t going to be a case.” She’d left her folders at the office but knew this was a good time to discuss her suspicions. “The Walkers are hiding something, and once we uncover what that is I think Amal will get what he wants without needing a lawyer.”
“What could they be hiding?”
“I want you to find all you can about the Walkers’ assistant, Peter Lawford. He’s been following me and I want to know why.”
“What will you do?”
“I’m going to find out why Martha has been hiding herself recently. She used to be seen at most social events but stopped several months ago.”
“When her daughter died.”
“Yes, but for someone so social, why such a drastic change? She went through three nasty divorces, and that didn’t stop her. Neither did the death of a beloved brother. But when her daughter dies, she secludes herself and wants to take what Amal owns—stuff that’s relatively peanuts compared with what they have. That’s what I have to discover.”
“Well, I’ll do whatever I can, boss.”
They sp
ent the next hour discussing their strategies, and then the phone rang.
Bonnie looked at it. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
Hannah shook her head. “Let him leave a message. I don’t feel like talking right now.” Or hearing excuses, even if they’re good ones.
“Too bad.” Bonnie snatched the phone off the table. “Hi, yes, she’s here,” she said as Hannah gestured for her to tell him she was out. “Just a minute.” She covered the receiver. “Be nice and listen to him. He sounds upset, and if you’d seen Hector’s face you’d know it’s something bad.”
“Okay,” Hannah said, feeling a little ashamed of her pettiness. She was saddened, but she was sure he was, too. She took the phone, and Bonnie gave her a thumbs-up for luck. Hannah stuck out her tongue, making her laugh. “Hi. I know you can’t make it.”
“Yes, I’m sorry about this,” Amal said in a distracted rush. “Rain check?”
“Only if you’ll tell me what happened.”
He fell quiet and then she heard him sigh.
“Amal?” she said, her curiosity and concern growing.
“It’s nothing.”
“Hold on.” Hannah looked at Bonnie. “I need to take this in another room,” she said and then left and went to her bedroom and closed the door. “Is it your mother?” When he didn’t reply she pressed him. “Amal. It’s me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Yes, it’s Mom. It’s bad this time. The police were involved. I convinced them not to charge her with disorderly conduct.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. More than you could ever know,” he said with such a feeling of regret and disappointment in his voice. “What are you wearing?”
Hannah paused, surprised by the question. “I’m sorry?”
“I need a distraction. Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”
“A dress.”
“Come on. You can do better than that. Is it long or short? Does it have straps or sleeves?”
“You really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
Hannah looked down at her dress. There wasn’t much to say about it. “It’s short and lilac colored.”
“What about underneath it?”
“Well,” Hannah said in a teasing tone, “since I was going to meet you, I didn’t think I needed to worry about that.”
Amal swore and groaned. “You’re not wearing anything?”
“Just kidding. I’m not that brazen.”
“You’ll learn.”
“I’m wearing a lace panty set.”
“I bet you it’s white.”
“And if it is?”
“Damn.”
“But it has a thin red trim.”
“Where?”
“All over.”
“Hmm.”
“I’d better go.”
“Hannah,” he said quickly. “It’s not always going to be like this.”
“I know. These things happen.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’m counting on it. Bye.” She hung up. They were stopped before anything even started. Hannah stared at the phone. He’d tried to maintain a playful tone, but he sounded really strained and worried, so she couldn’t really be angry with him. Instead, she’d be there for him.
* * *
Amal gripped the phone receiver in two hands and pressed it against his forehead, reminding himself to count to ten. Hannah understood and she forgave him, but that didn’t make him feel any better, because he’d lied to her. He’d told Hannah it wouldn’t always be like this, but that wasn’t true. This was the reality of his life. Calls from the police, calls from restaurant managers, calls from associates—always about what his mother had done. Jade had also had to deal with his mother’s antics before slipping into her own troubles. He partly wondered if the stress of his mother had pushed her toward using and abusing prescription pills.
“Don’t be angry with me, Amal,” Doreen said, coming into the main living room. As a functioning drunk her words were barely slurred and her walk steady.
Amal set the phone down, pleased with his control. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could block out her voice. “You’re always sorry.”
“I don’t know what happened.”
He stared at her, taking a deep breath to keep his temper under rein. “What happened was that you drank too much again and got violent.”
“I just wanted to be left alone and that woman at the bar—”
“I don’t want to hear it because I don’t care.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose. I don’t know what comes over me.”
“You need to stop drinking.”
“I don’t have a problem with drinking. I can stop anytime, and I have. You know that. I’m not an alcoholic. Even the clinic said so.”
Yes, the clinic and the doctors all said she wasn’t an alcoholic, just that she was destructive. Her psychiatrist at the rehab had warned him that once she was off the pills she’d take to something else. She’d told him that his mother possibly had an addictive personality and liked to create chaos. She suggested that his mother take up a hobby like knitting. His mother didn’t even know how to thread a needle. Neither of them were good at simple hobbies. Like him, she liked the external thrill of nightlife. Going out was her hobby, and he didn’t know how to stop her or if he even could.
“Mom, why do you do this?”
“It was just a bad night. That’s all. I like to drink, that’s all. I had a problem with pills, but I—”
Amal shook his head, stood and began to pace. “I don’t know if I’m doing you any good by having you here.”
She gasped. “Amal, you wouldn’t.”
He saw the look of fear on her face. No, he could never kick her out. He couldn’t abandon her the way his father had. He was all she had and she depended on him. No matter what she did, she was his mother and he loved her. He had to protect her—from herself. He softened his tone. “I’m not kicking you out. I just want the best for you, so I’m just thinking aloud.”
“Don’t talk about things like that. This is my home. My place is with you, and I’m improving.”
That was his fear—he was afraid she wasn’t. Her episodes were erratic. He could never guess what would set her off. Recently, she’d become more unpredictable since his fight with the Walkers. Maybe the stress was too much. “Mom, I think you need a vacation.”
“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll go to bed now.”
It was her way of shutting him out, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to reach her anymore tonight. “Good night.” He watched her head down the hall toward her suite, and then he returned to the couch. Tonight was supposed to be special. A dream where he made love to a beautiful woman who made him smile. Instead, it had become a nightmare, forcing him to face a monster with an addiction he could not slay.
Amal fell asleep on the couch. He woke up to the scent of coconut oil and humming. He pried his eyes open and saw a female form sitting in front of him. Hannah was in a dress with her hair pulled back, showing her dangling earrings. She had a soft smile on her face. He shut his eyes again and then paused. Hannah? His eyes flew open—it was Hannah. He scrambled up into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “What’s going on? What are you doing here? How did you get in here?”
She held out her hand. “Relax.”
How could he relax when his heart was racing? He was excited, stunned and wary all at the same time. He didn’t know if he should hug her or shake her hand. He gripped the couch cushions instead. “Are you really here?”
“Yes.”
He wan
ted to touch her to make sure she was real. He wanted to pull her into his arms and let her know how much he was glad she was there. He gripped the cushions tighter instead. “Who let you in?”
“Your mother. Don’t worry. She’s in her bedroom. She just finished a hearty breakfast.”
“It’s morning?”
She nodded.
Amal covered his face and inwardly groaned as he felt the night growth on his face. Then he glanced down at his crumpled shirt and trousers. He must look like a bum. This was not how he wanted her to see him, but he didn’t want her to leave, either. He had to relax and take control. “You look great.”
“You look like hell.”
He grinned. “I feel like hell.”
“Go take a shower. That will refresh you. Then we can have breakfast.”
“That’s a good idea.” He stood and took her hand. “Come on.”
She resisted. “You don’t need me.”
“I thought we could shower together.”
“I don’t—I can’t.”
“Why not?” He winked. “You can scrub my back for me.”
“But we’re not lovers. At least not yet. I know we were going to be, but we didn’t.”
Amal shook his head, confused. “I don’t follow.”
“We’re not close enough to shower together yet.”
He folded his arms. “Are you saying because we haven’t slept together I can’t see you naked in the shower?”
“First you become lovers and then everything else follows. Those are the rules.”
“There aren’t any rules. And if there were I don’t play by them anyway. Come on.”
Hannah pulled her hand away. “No. I can’t.”
“Fine.” He glanced at his watch. “Let me clean up and then let’s do it now.”
“No.”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Hannah, it’s just a shower.”
“With both of us naked.”
“I know.” His mouth spread into a wide grin. “That’s the best part.”
“But what if you change your mind?”
“About what?” he asked, exasperated.
“About sleeping with me.”