If I Had You

by Michelle Monkou

  Brent stayed busy, which was not that difficult when the Boston location had a flood of business due to All For One’s success. By the time he left the office, he was the only one left. His staff had accompanied the guys to another event they had suddenly been invited to attend. He glanced at his watch, wishing that he had kept a keener eye on the time.

  His mother was due at his hotel room around six. He got to the room with only five minutes to spare. He surveyed the large space. He didn’t have to worry since housekeeping had done a good job. Still, he wanted to make sure everything was in place.

  A call from the front desk alerted him that he had a visitor. He provided the necessary permission for her to come to his room. Now he waited at the door, straightening his clothes and running a hand over his hair. Still, he tensed when a knock sounded at the door.

  “Hi, Mom,” he greeted. He hugged her, truly glad to see her.

  “Brent, you look healthy. All those muscles look good on you.” She swept passed him into the suite. Her head nodded as she scanned the room.

  “Make yourself comfortable.”

  “I’ll take a drink if you have one.”

  “Juice, water, soda?”

  “No wine?” She made a face. No one would have guessed that she was in her sixties. Her skin was tight and without deep lines. Men complimented her, while the women asked if she’d had work done. Her hair, peppered with silver, was styled in a French braid down her back.

  “You’ve lost weight.” Brent’s gaze narrowed on his mother.

  She preened. “Glad you’ve noticed. I’ve been working out.” She patted her hair. “Covering the gray when I get back.”

  “Is that a piercing?” He saw the small sparkle on her nostril.

  “Yep. Hurt like heck.”

  “Okay, have a seat. What’s going on?”

  “I’m enjoying life and doing things that I’ve always wanted to do.” His mother’s bracelets jangled up and down her forearm.

  He almost asked what his father thought about all this, but that would have started an all-out war. Very early on, his mother had made it clear to the entire family that she would be no one’s subservient housewife. Usually that came after a heated exchange between her and his father, who was more old-fashioned.

  But this new person in front of him left him unsettled. The changes were dramatic. More important, he wondered what was behind the change.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” Guess he’d be the one to do the probing.

  “I’m still married.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “But you’re separated.”

  She grunted and waved away his prodding.

  Brent sat opposite her, waiting for her to tell him why she had made this unannounced trip. The longer she waited to reveal her intent, the more he grew cautious. After catching up on her life of group trips to the casinos in Atlantic City and to wine country in California, their conversation dwindled.

  “Okay, Mom, we’ve danced around the reason for your visit. What’s the problem?”

  She took a deep breath. “It’s time for us all to be a family again.”

  “You and dad are getting back together?”

  “Ah…no.” She took a deep breath. “You and your brother need to reconcile.”

  “Did hell freeze over and I didn’t know about it?”

  The warm coziness of his mother’s visit vanished. Deep-seated anger raged through his body, setting his teeth on edge.

  “Stop being rude.”

  A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Brent looked at the door and then at his mother.

  The brightness in her eyes betrayed her thoughts. Cold dread shot straight down his spine. Was his brother out there the entire time? Did his mother actually do what he’d hoped she would leave alone?

  He yanked open the door.

  “Hey, Brent—”

  “What are you doing here, Harry?” Brent looked at his older brother. He certainly looked worse than the last time they talked. It didn’t matter. He didn’t want to hear any sob stories. There especially wouldn’t be any stories of reconciliation. His heart had tightened into a knot over the issue. His brother or his mother couldn’t pry it open, even if they planned a tag-team scenario.

  Chapter 12

  Brent stood in the doorway staring at a face that closely resembled his. No forewarning, nothing, had given him a hint that his brother would show up tonight. His mother muttered her concern behind him. He ignored her. She knew that he wouldn’t want to see Harry. He’d been clear on that several times in a major way.

  “Brent, please step aside. We can’t have this conversation in the hallway.”

  The statement didn’t make him budge. Instead his grip tightened along the edge of the door panel. His vision constricted to the point that only his brother’s face was the focal point.

  His mother pushed him aside and pulled Harry into the room.

  Brent didn’t like the loss of control. “Look, whatever both of you have planned, forget about it. I have a lot of work to do tonight. And I’m not in the mood for this.”

  His brother had the good sense not to sit and get comfortable. Even though their mother coaxed him to take a seat on the nearby couch, he refused. His attention never shifted from where Brent stood on the other side of the room.

  Brent noted the slump to his brother’s shoulders. Harry, who was always a healthy size, now looked gaunt around the face. His clothes hung loose and rumpled. Where were the cocky attitude and the grandiose bragging that by now would’ve tumbled out of his mouth? No matter; he didn’t want to delve deeply into Harry’s current condition.

  “Brent, Harry, I have seen this family ripped apart for a variety of things. Some need that friction to force out bad feelings and to generate love and compromise. This family doesn’t need ugliness pulling us in different directions. I want this family together again.”

  “You keep saying that, but you aren’t with Dad. So does this reunion only happen for some?” Brent asked.

  His mother took a step toward him. “Stop interrupting me.” Her sharp tone muzzled his next remark. “I don’t know what ripped apart your love for each other. I don’t care because it’s not that important.”

  Despite his mother’s sudden appearance for a family reunion, he had nothing further to say. She may not feel that he had a right to have his feelings. But he didn’t plan on clarifying his actions. Harry knew why.

  The memory of their last blow-up replayed in his head. The repercussions after that night lay heavy in his stomach. He didn’t want to linger over the details. Putting distance between him and his brother helped to dull the pain.

  Brent picked up his jacket, tossed it over his arm. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunched close to his ears. There was no way that he could stand to be in the same room. His mind couldn’t quite get there. The only release he could muster was to seek escape.

  “I’ll be back in an hour. Harry needs to be out of here.”

  “Brent, wait…” Harry’s voice faded as if too exhausted to continue.

  Brent didn’t stop. Instead his pace quickened down the hallway to the elevator. He punched the button and stepped in without looking back when it arrived, knowing there was the security camera trained on the elevator cab stopped him from raging in the small space.

  His parents never knew what caused the breakup. With his brother’s penchant for not always doing the right thing, no one pushed for the reason. Well, no one except his mother, that is.

  Loyalty had been abused and hopelessly destroyed. Harry had sat on a pedestal for a long time. From their teen years, Harry had been the born leader. Brent had followed him around in awe. Adulthood, however, didn’t seem to be as kind on their lives. Hi
s brother’s wilder and dodgier habits made it difficult to follow him. Instead of a younger brother doing whatever his older brother asked of him, their discussions seemed to end in frequent disagreements. Growing further apart, their lives went down different roads. Harry chased empty dreams. Brent got married and made plans for life with his own family.

  Brent stood outside his hotel, not sure where to go. He had left his briefcase in his suite with the current workload, along with his cell phone. No way was he heading back in there. Instead, he hailed a cab. Moving on autopilot, he provided the driver with Charisse’s address before settling back for the ride.

  Etiquette dictated that he should have at least given Charisse a heads up about the impromptu visit. But he was without a phone, so he stood outside her door trying to make up his mind about what to do. Even if staying here was the plan, what would he tell her? She knew very little about his family and their craziness. Yet she was the only person he wanted to be around at this critical moment.

  Although they hadn’t shared the details of their lives, he still decided to stay. Maybe the comfort he felt in her arms drew him to be there. But it was late. And what if she had company? Brent’s hand lowered from the door knocker. That possibility had never crossed his mind.

  “Are you going to stand there all night?” Charisse opened the door. She wrapped her arms around her body firmly to keep her dressing gown closed.

  “How did you know I was out here?”

  “I heard the car and looked out. Couldn’t believe it was you. Especially since I was thinking about you.”

  “I didn’t mean to pop up.”

  “But you did, so come in. You look like hell. Is it the group? Don’t overthink how well they did. Relax and enjoy it.”

  “The labels are already chomping at the bit. They’re pushing for an early release of the single to ride the wave. Plus it looks like they’ll definitely get on the summer tour lineup.” Brent refrained from sharing the real reason he had ended up there.

  “Oh, man, that is beyond fantastic.” They hugged, celebrating the major victory.

  “The guys are heading home over the weekend for a string of hometown events and appearances. I’ll be heading to Boston for a bit.” He raised her chin so he could look into those beautiful, expressive eyes. “Wish you could come with me.” His impulses seemed to be on hyperdrive. He could only blame the night’s events.

  “Invite me.”

  “Okay.” He kissed her gently.

  “Here’s my RSVP.” She opened and dropped her nightgown.

  All his recent irritations receded to the back of his mind. To be in Charisse’s arms was a priceless gift. They made their way to her bed for a decadent night of pleasure.

  “I can’t stay, Charisse.” Brent kissed the top of her head as she snuggled next to him. He stroked her shoulder, admiring how smooth her skin was.

  “You know, I think the rules have been suspended,” Charisse joked, poking his chin with her finger.

  “Since we’re practically addicted to each other, I kind of suspected that the rules weren’t working. But I have to admit that I’m not leaving because of the rules.” He slid his arm from under her head.

  Being with her was like reaching an oasis in the desert. A minute in her company invigorated him. In her arms, while making love, was a natural high that he wished would never end. What he’d run from was still out there, even if his family had left his suite.

  Charisse reached up and rubbed his bare back. “You’re so quiet.”

  “Sorry.” He reached for his clothes.

  “You know I don’t mind coming to Boston.” She leaned back on the pillows, watching him get dressed.

  “It’s not that.”

  “You can talk to me,” she encouraged. Something in his demeanor warned her that the matter was serious. She adjusted herself against the pillows.

  “I had a bit of a blow-up with family before I came here.”

  “Your family is here?”

  “My mother made a surprise visit and dragged along my brother.” His face tightened as he began to retell the earlier episode.

  Charisse heard the sordid details without interrupting him. An occasional eyebrow raised or a frown settled briefly on her forehead. As he wound down, she got dressed. He paused, waiting to see if she was really paying attention. Her opinion mattered to him.

  “You’ve told me everything except why you are at odds with Harry.”

  Brent motioned toward the kitchen. “I’ll tell you over a late-night snack.”

  “Good plan. I’ve got bread and deli meat. Mayo and other stuff are in the fridge.”

  Brent walked to the kitchen. The sound of Charisse’s muffled steps from her bunny-shaped bedroom slippers comforted him. In a matter of minutes, he familiarized himself with the kitchen and its treasures.

  “I like this. Feeding you.” He busied himself with the bread.

  “Feeding me?”

  “Being with you, talking, standing in your kitchen preparing a meal. Makes me feel domesticated.” He grinned. His words didn’t quite convey how much he enjoyed being in her company. He walked over and kissed her. One hand cupped her head, as the kiss deepened with passion. His other hand balanced a slice of multigrain bread.

  Charisse moaned when he stopped. She grabbed a slice of ham, nibbling on the edges. “I feel as if you’re treating me to dessert before the main meal.”

  “Couldn’t help myself.”

  In between munching on the meat and a slice of cheese she hoisted herself onto the kitchen counter.

  “Babe, tell me about your brother.”

  “Harry worked a regular 9 to 5 job with the state as a computer specialist. Then he started with online gambling and then sports gambling. Before too long, he owed money. My parents helped him out until it got too bad, and then they shared the problem with me. Then I stepped in, picking up where they’d stopped, enabling him.” Brent focused on adding the potato chips next to the sandwiches. His anger burned at a slow simmer.

  “Is he still gambling?”

  Brent shrugged. “I’ve lost touch with his habits. The last time he came to me, I said no. He begged, saying that his life was at risk. But I didn’t budge. At that point, he wanted thousands of dollars.”

  “Sounds like he needed professional help.”

  “Whatever. Instead he went to Marjorie, pleading his case. He had to have the money that night.” He looked up, but all he could see was Marjorie picking up her car keys. He’d asked her where she was going, and at first, she didn’t want to say. When he’d pushed, sensing that something wasn’t right, she’d confessed that Harry needed the money. She’d withdrawn it earlier that day and was taking the money to him.

  Their fighting escalated with her accusing him of being selfish and uncaring about his brother before she headed out that night. A drunk driver and a thunderstorm took away his wife.

  “Harry never got his money.” Brent finished his story. He slid the plate toward Charisse.

  She slid off the counter and took their plates to the dining table. “Come, sit.” She offered him a tentative smile.

  Brent sat, but his appetite had fled.

  “I’m very sorry to hear about the sad circumstances of Marjorie’s death.”

  He nodded. “Getting over it was difficult, but I’ve been doing fine.”

  “I believe that about Marjorie but not about Harry. You have to forgive him.”

  Brent clenched his teeth. The sandwich remained untouched. His mouth was dry. Eating anything would taste like sawdust.

  “Right now you are at war with your brother, and it’s affecting the relationship with your parents. Don’t know about your sister, but I’m sure she wants a peaceful and quick end to the feud.”

  “A
family is all I ever wanted. Now I’ve branched out to a new career, and I still want a family.”

  “I think that you can go through life doing all the things that you want to do. However, this will overshadow whatever you accomplish because you haven’t completely let go.” Charisse brushed his cheek with her hand.

  Brent gazed into her eyes, sinking into their comfort. What she said made sense. For the first time, he trusted someone who had captured his heart. For the first time in a while, he had fallen in love. The realization came at him like a one-two punch to the heart and brain.

  He watched her finish the sandwich and brush away the crumbs. Now he had his own secret—one that he pretty sure wasn’t the right time to share with Charisse. He’d fallen hard and fast for this beautiful woman with a warm heart.

  “Don’t try to make goo-goo eyes with me.” She leaned over and kissed him.

  “You’ve got your brother paying a heavy penalty. I think it’s time to give him a reprieve.”

  “Can I think about it?”

  Eventually he left Charisse looking soft and tender. They had talked a little about his strategy. Nothing felt comfortable. Why would it? Years had been spent blaming his brother and harboring ill feelings.

  He left her with a soft kiss on her forehead. He heard her sigh and wished he had the guts to say “I love you.” For that, he was sincerely sorry.

  Having her in Boston would give him a second chance.

  By the time he returned to the room and inserted his key card, he really hoped that he had the place to himself. The room was dark and he flicked on the lights. He breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t see his brother or his mother. His plan to reconcile with Harry didn’t call for an immediate rollout.

  After a quick shower, he slipped under the covers and turned off the light. Sleepiness hovered on the edge, waiting for him to calm his worries. All he thought about was how one part of his life seemed to be going well and another seemed to be in bitter turmoil.