It wasn’t until she pushed her sunglasses on top of her head that he got an unobstructed view of the woman’s oval face. Oh, yeah, he liked everything he saw. He’d bet his year-end bonus she didn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. She was stunning in a red silk dress that draped below a slender waistline and fell just short of her knees. The straps on her pumps wrapped around slim ankles that connected to a pair of shapely legs. But it was those eyes he’d first noticed. Dark brown and slanted, they were mesmerizing, and he was spellbound.
“Tell you what, let me go and take a look at your car.” He motioned to the space behind her. “Have a seat in the customer waiting area. Shouldn’t take me more than a few moments to see what’s going on.”
* * *
Ten minutes passed, and Caitlyn surged to her feet when she saw him open the door. But the sudden jolt made her lightheaded, and a wave of nausea hit her. She slumped back to the chair and rested her head on top of her knees.
Marcel squatted in front of her, his voice filled with concern. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
“I’m sorry.” Caitlyn managed to say the words a few moments later, embarrassed. She flashed a weak smile. “Guess that’s what happens when you don’t eat all day.”
Marcel stood. “Here, let me get you some water.”
She shook her head. “No, please. I’m fine. Just moved a little too fast, that’s all.” God, she’d taken up enough of his time. The woeful look in his gray-green eyes concerned her, and she sensed it was bad news concerning her car. “Can you fix it?”
“I can, but not tonight.”
Caitlyn looked away, then back at him again as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Any idea of what it’ll cost to fix it?”
He shook his head and answered truthfully. “I won’t know that until tomorrow.”
Worried the expenses would be astronomical, Caitlyn was almost too afraid to ask the question, but she did anyway. “Are we talking a…lot?”
“Well, that depends on what you consider a lot.”
“A thousand?” She held her breath and waited.
“Hmm, not that much. You’ve got a problem with your fuel line and a couple of sensors. My best estimate right now is around five hundred.”
Caitlyn swallowed the urge to scream. Tension seeped along the space between her neck and shoulders, and the sharp, prickling sensation felt like stickpins. She needed her car, period. But five hundred dollars? At that moment, she was so tired, she couldn’t think straight. She figured the best thing to do was head home, get a good night’s sleep, and worry about the car expenses the next morning.
“I see.” She stood and extended her hand. “Well, thank you for your help anyway. I’m sorry I bothered you.” She placed the strap of the purse on her shoulder and headed for the door.
The cloud of distress that pierced her eyes didn’t go unnoticed, and Marcel certainly didn’t want to add to her frustration. From behind, he called out. “Wait. How are you getting home?”
She stopped and turned around. “I’ll call a taxi.”
Marcel walked toward her. “Tell you what, let me give you a loaner car for tonight, Mrs.—”
“I’m not married, and I prefer to call a cab.” She glanced around the room. “Perhaps there’s a phone I could use?”
“Ma’am, you don’t need to call a cab. The loaner is part of our service.”
Marcel quickly turned and made his way toward the service desk, subtly making the sign of the cross to whatever fate that had landed this Nairobian beauty at his doorstep. Grabbing the necessary paperwork, he placed the key to the loaner in his pocket and took the seat next to her. “We can settle up your bill tomorrow when your car’s ready, and I’ll do my best to stay within the five-hundred-dollar range.”
He looked over the information she handed back to him and frowned slightly. C. R. Thompson. That couldn’t be her full name, he thought. And even if by some off chance it was, it didn’t tell him a whole lot. He wanted vital statistics, like her address, telephone number, and whether she was single, and not necessarily in that order. His thick, black eyebrows bunched as he reviewed several sections of the form she’d left blank. “You didn’t put down all your information.”
Confused, she stared at him. “Like what?”
Turning to face her, he tilted his head and gave her a quizzical stare. “Address, phone number, you know, the things people give to other people so they can be contacted.”
With a pointed look, Caitlyn jerked around in her seat to face him. “You have my car, so there’s nothing to worry about. I’m not a thief, and I’m not going to steal your loaner.”
“Listen, lady, you’re not getting my loaner if I don’t get your contact information.”
“Fine.” She huffed and pointed her nose in the air. “I’ll call a cab then.”
“Are you always this elusive?”
With a trembling hand, Caitlyn swiped a strand of hair back that had fallen across her face. “No…no. It’s nothing like that.” At that moment, she was in no position to be ungrateful. He no doubt had a car in working order; she didn’t. She took the clipboard, added the information and handed it back. “I’m sorry I was curt and I’m really not trying to be evasive.”
You could have fooled me, Marcel thought, dropping the clipboard in the seat next to him without bothering to glance over what she had added. He stood and reached inside his pocket.
Caitlyn focused on the key dangling from a spiral ring on his left index finger. “Uh, listen, thank you for all your help.” She grabbed the key and rushed out without a backward glance.
* * *
The next day, Marcel abruptly ended a conversation with one of his service managers the moment he looked across the room and noticed Caitlyn standing quietly by the door. “Hi, buddy, give me a sec, okay?” He moved past several customers straight toward her with the grace and agility of a panther ready to pounce.
“I told you I’d be—”
“Come with me.” He placed his hand under her elbow and walked them down a hallway.
“Wait. W-Where are you taking me?” Caitlyn’s voice was strained and she tried to back away from his hold, not sure what he had in mind.
He didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he opened the door to a small conference room, ushered her inside and whirled around. “Why did you run off from me last night?”
“I didn’t run from you. I told you I’d be back.” Her voice trembled, along with her hand, as she reached inside her purse and pulled out a brown envelope. “How much are the repairs?”
“Five hundred.”
She placed the envelope in his hands. “It’s all there. You can count it, if you’d like.”
He took the envelope and placed it on the table without looking inside. “Listen, we got your car up and running for now at least, but I’m not sure how much longer your engine will hold up.”
“I see.”
“Have you considered getting a new car?”
“No!” She fumbled with the zipper on her purse before she looked up at him again. “Besides, I can’t afford it right now, even if I wanted to. At least this one’s paid for.”
Marcel urged her to sit in one of the two chairs at the table while he took the other. “Listen, I’m no genius, but it doesn’t take one to know that you’re awfully edgy.”
She nervously chuckled. “Why would you think that?”
“For one thing, you jump every time someone comes near you. And second, getting any information from you requires the skill of a surgeon, which obviously I’m not.” He relaxed his long frame and touched his left index finger to his head. “Now tell me, if you were me, what would you think?”
Long, black lashes swept across her high cheekbones. “It has nothing to do with you, honestly.” After a pregnant pause, she stared at the carpeted floor, her voice a mere whisper. “I-I just try to keep a low profile, that’s all.”
“You don’t have anything to fear from me, okay? If I can help you, I will
.” He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket, picked up a Cross pen and wrote on the back. He slid it to her. “Just in case.”
Picking up the card, she smiled. “All your digits, huh?” He’d even given her his home address. She slipped the card inside her purse. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”
It took a bit of persuasion, but Marcel finally convinced Caitlyn to grab a bite to eat with him at the restaurant across the street. It looked like a hole-in-the-wall, but they served the best burgers and fries in town. Marcel noticed during lunch that the uneasiness and nervousness she’d shown earlier had disappeared. Afterward, they enjoyed a couple of café mochas.
He placed his cup on the table and looked across at her. “Do I detect a slight East Coast accent?”
Her smile was soft, warm. “Darn it, I thought I’d lost it.”
Shaking his head, he smiled back. “No such luck. So, where’re you from?”
“Newark.”
“Certainly not Newark, California.”
She arched her brow. “There’s a Newark, California?”
“You got it. About twenty miles or so from Oakland.”
“Really? Well, my Newark is in New Jersey.”
“So, what brings you to California?”
She shrugged. “A lot of things.”
“I see.” There was that evasiveness again. He decided to try a different approach. “So, what do you do?”
“I run a youth center.”
“Here in Oakland?”
She nodded.
“Which one?”
“The East Oakland Youth Center.”
Startled, Marcel felt his chest collide with the table edge. “The one on Webster Street?” He needed to confirm it was the same one he’d received the funding request from three weeks ago.
“Yes. Do you know about us?”
He nodded. “In a manner of speaking, I do.”
Inclining her head sideways, her brow rose. “How?”
His response was temporarily trapped in his throat as he observed her striking beauty. Her gorgeous ebony skin without a single blemish and the same shade as dark chocolate was alluring. It was so striking she looked like a priceless piece of onyx. His gaze drifted to her pointed nose and the lushness of her mouth. Forget attractive. She was absolutely exquisite.
“I’ve worked with a lot of community programs over the years.” He propped his elbows on the table. “So, tell me more about the center.” Not only did he hope to find out firsthand about the center’s programs, hopefully he’d learn more about the beauty seated across from him.
Placing her cup down, Caitlyn’s passion for her job burst forth, along with a smile as bright as the lights in Times Square. “We have a reading and literacy club for our elementary and middle school kids. Oh, and our investment club has taught the kids a lot about how to manage their money.” She clapped, threw her head back and laughed. “I think I’ll hire a couple of the kids as my personal investors soon. Anyway, we offer conflict resolution, and I’d love to add a mentoring program.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“Funding—or lack of, I should say.”
“You enjoy what you do, don’t you?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I really do.”
“How did you get into this?”
“I grew up in the inner city and spent a lot of time at the local youth center in my neighborhood. I saw firsthand the struggles that come from a lack of economic development in poor communities.”
“So you decided to do something about it, huh?”
“I didn’t initially start out doing this, but I’m happy with it.”
“So, what did you do before this?”
“Corporate philanthropy.”
“Really? Why did you quit?”
She sucked in a deep breath and released it. “Personal reasons.” Glancing at her watch, she reached for her purse. “I really do need to get back to the center.”
Marcel didn’t want the time they had shared to end so soon, and his mind raced to think of a way to prevent it from happening. He inconspicuously inched his hand across the table until the glass of water in front of her tumbled over. “Oh, God—” He grabbed a handful of napkins from the holder. “I’m sorry about that. I guess I’m showing off my clumsiness today.”
“It’s okay.” Caitlyn quickly rose to her feet and scooped her purse off the table to avoid the spreading pool of liquid. She glanced down at the water dripping on the floor. “Here, let me have a few of those.”
“There you go.” Marcel placed several napkins in her hand and nodded at her purse. “Here, let’s put your purse over here so it doesn’t get wet.” He placed it in his seat as she bent to mop the floor. While Caitlyn’s attention was diverted, he stopped long enough to unzip her bag and tuck the envelope of money she’d given him earlier inside. He straightened quickly as she stood.
Once they settled down again, he smiled. “We’ve known each other for almost twenty-four hours, and I still don’t know your first name.”
She chuckled. “I’m sorry. It’s Caitlyn.” She extended her hand across the table. “Caitlyn Thompson.”
Well, well, well. This was the Caitlyn Thompson who’d written the funding proposal and the one he’d known only by name for the last three weeks. He made a mental note to be sure to get to mass early on Sunday and light a candle for this blessing. Marcel took back what he’d told himself three days earlier about wanting to meet the grant writer. Meeting her wasn’t enough. Now he wanted to get to know Caitlyn on a personal level.
“Marcel Baptiste.” He slipped his hand from hers. “Any luck with that funding?”
“No. I was supposed to meet with a potential funder yesterday, but the meeting was cancelled.” She lifted her chin high with determination. “But don’t worry, I’ll get another meeting.”
Marcel gazed her intently. The confidence in her eyes was just as impressive as the challenge in her voice. “Have dinner with me, Caitlyn.”
“I don’t think—”
“I’ll meet you wherever you say. Just say yes.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple. Say yes.”
“No.”
He hitched his brow. “No?”
She chuckled. “Must be an echo in here, huh?”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know you.”
He smiled again. “Well, that’s the whole purpose for dinner, so we can get to know each other.” Driven by the need to know this woman better, he leaned forward slightly, his words a hushed whisper. “Say yes, Caitlyn.”
“I appreciate the invitation, but I think I’ll pass.”
He mockingly clutched his hands to his heart. “I’m mortally wounded by your words.”
A grin worked at her jaw. “Are you always this persistent?”
With his face void of any expression, he answered easily. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t accept the word no.”
“My instincts tell me very few people say that word to you.”
His compelling gaze bore into her hesitant one. “Always trust your instincts.”
With her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, she contemplated the offer. “Anywhere I say, right?”
He nodded. “Anywhere you say.”
“And you promise—”
“To be on my best behavior.” He finished off her sentence and lifted his left hand, flashing the Boy Scout salute.
She conceded with a nod. “All right, I’ll meet you at the dealership around seven.”
Chapter 2
Caitlyn adamantly shook her head when Marcel reached over to grab the dinner check the waitress had placed in the center of their table. She slipped several bills inside the leather folder.
“It’s the least I can do, since I just mysteriously found an envelope of money in my purse.”
He chuckled. “All right, I’m busted. Your car is on the house.”
“Listen,
Marcel, I really do appreciate the gesture.” She released a long sigh and shook her head at the same time. “But I can’t accept it.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s just say I learned a hard lesson about accepting a person’s generosity a while ago.”
He cocked his head. “I’m not following you.”
“My last relationship…” Her voice trembled and she dropped her head. Finally, she glanced up at Marcel and saw his puzzled expression, the kind marked, “Explain this to me.” How did she reveal she had been on the run for almost three years from an ex-boyfriend who had flat out stalked her? And how could she tell Marcel, or any man for that matter, what Cole had done to her the last time he found her? She briefly shut her eyes, trying to block out the pain. Revealing that hurt to him was out of the question. Her trust in the male species had disappeared three years earlier. She quickly shifted gears to another topic. “So, tell me about you.”
He settled himself comfortably in his chair, but wasn’t at all oblivious to the fact that she hadn’t finished her statement about her past. “There’s really not a lot to tell. I have a twin sister, and we have two brothers and two sisters who are younger.” He smiled. “And then there’s Mama Z. She’s my maternal grandmother and helped my dad raise our rowdy crew after my mother died.”
She smiled sadly. “I always wanted a big family.”
He paused and lifted his glass to his lips. “Do you have family back in New Jersey?”
“No. I’m an only child. I lost my mother a long time ago, and I never knew my father.”
“I’m sorry.” Marcel spoke sincerely. He leaned forward and cleared his throat. “You need to know something.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m not him.”
She stared, stunned at the boldness of his statement, but decided asking what he meant would make her look like a complete idiot since in her heart she knew exactly what he was referring to. “I never said you were.”
“But you’re determined to keep your distance from me, right?”
“At this point in my life, from anyone, so don’t feel like the Lone Ranger here.”
“Remember, Caitlyn, I don’t accept the word no very well.”
When I’m With You (Indigo) Page 2