When I’m With You (Indigo)

by LaConnie Taylor-Jones

  “Looks like you’re working hard.” The jab came from his father, Alcee Baptiste, who stood in the doorway.

  Marcel smiled and stood. “Well, well, glad you could finally join me.”

  Alcee smiled back. “The benefits of retirement, Son.”

  Marcel sat and propped his feet up again. “Pop, I need to bring you up to speed. Ken told me a few days ago that we seem to have a little competition for the new dealership. He said that after we placed our initial bid, another dealership from back East raised it. Ken countered, of course, but the other company upped the ante. We all know that financing isn’t a problem, but what I don’t understand is why someone would shell out more money.” He shook his head and frowned. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

  With his hands laced behind his head, Alcee tossed out a possibility. “Perhaps they’re getting more money out of the deal on the back end.”

  Briefly considering the possibility, Marcel rubbed his chin. “But it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You’ve got two options, Son. Go for the dealership, but find out what’s going on behind the scene, or forget about it.”

  Marcel nodded and conceded to the wisdom of the man who had almost forty years of experience in the industry. “Tell you what. Let’s see what happens with the new bid. If there’s still a problem, I’ll contact Alex and have him make a few discreet inquiries. It’ll be interesting to see what he comes up with.”

  Marcel’s best friend, Alex Robinson, was a top-notched private investigator, and if anyone could get to the bottom of a mystery, Alex could.

  Later in the evening around six, Marcel and Alcee were still reviewing sales reports when suddenly Marcel lifted his head. “What’s that?”

  Alcee listened intently. “Sounds like someone’s knocking on your office door.”

  Marcel got up and walked down the hallway from the conference room to his office and found Caitlyn standing patiently outside.

  Caitlyn titled her head back and smiled. “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself.” Marcel placed a soft kiss against her cheek. Glancing at his watch, he sighed, frustrated with himself because he’d lost track of time and the fact they had dinner reservations at Farallon’s in San Francisco’s Union Square. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so close to seven.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Marcel and Caitlyn headed back toward the conference room, but before they entered, she stopped abruptly when she realized someone else was there. Placing her hand over her mouth, she slowly backed away. “Oh, Marcel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.”

  “You didn’t interrupt anything.”

  Caitlyn pointed over her shoulder to the waiting room. “Listen, I can wait there until you’re finished.”

  “No way. Come on. You need to meet someone anyway.” Marcel placed his hand under her elbow, and they walked inside. “Pop, I’d like you to meet Caitlyn Thompson.”

  “Ms. Thompson…” Alcee, who was seated with his back to the door, stood and turned. His voice vanished the moment he came face-to-face with Caitlyn.

  Caitlyn smiled and extended her hand to Alcee. “Mr. Baptiste, I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Wide-eyed, Alcee managed to hold his hand out, but stammered over his words. “Uh…I-I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Marcel turned to Caitlyn. “Let me grab my briefcase. Be right back.”

  “Marcel’s told me a lot about you.” With an arched brow, Caitlyn tried to discreetly remove her hand from Alcee’s firm grip. “Excuse me. Is everything all right?”

  Alcee’s hazel eyes were riveted to the antique fourteen-karat gold slide bracelet on Caitlyn’s wrist. He jammed his hand inside his pants pocket. “Uh, yes…yes, of course. Everything’s fine.” He glanced at the bracelet again, recognizing the intricate design scrolled on it. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. Your bracelet—I was just admiring it.”

  Caitlyn looked at her wrist and smiled. “Thank you. It was my mother’s.”

  “Your, uh…mother’s…” Alcee’s words were faint, his voice unsteady.

  Caitlyn nodded. “Yes.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking…what is your mother’s name?”

  “Her name was Della Thompson.”

  Alcee managed to change the choke rumbling in his throat into a quiet cough. “You said was…”

  “My mother passed away several years ago.”

  Alcee could only stare.

  Marcel returned with his briefcase. “Pop, let’s call it a night.” He moved next to Caitlyn. “We need to get going if we’re going to make our reservation.”

  Alcee nodded and stared at Caitlyn’s bracelet again. “Listen, you two enjoy the evening. Uh…I think I’ll stay another hour or so before heading out.”

  Marcel flashed a lopsided grin. “Don’t tell me this is coming from the man who brags about retirement?”

  Everyone laughed. Alcee left and closed the door behind him. Once they were alone, Marcel turned to Caitlyn who was smiling brightly. “So what has you so happy tonight?” He winked. “Seeing me?”

  She giggled softly. “That could be one reason, but really it’s because we got the deed to the building and funding for the next five years.” Caitlyn’s words zoomed out as fast a racecar whizzing around the track at the Daytona 500.

  Marcel reached to give her a brief hug, and before he knew it, he had his face burrowed against her scented neck, inhaling her soft, floral fragrance. “And that makes you happy?”

  “Oh, yes. Not so much for me, but for the kids. They need it so much.” With her arms still looped at his neck, she leaned back, her eyes twinkling with delight. “Know what else?”

  “What?”

  “The grant offered a salary and car to the director. Can you believe that?”

  Marcel didn’t acknowledge the question. What gave him joy was seeing the sparkle in her eyes.

  “You deserve it, Caitlyn.” He grabbed her hand and walked them to the door. He was just about to shut off the lights when he heard a knock and opened the door.

  “Hi, Ken. Come on in. Want you to meet someone.” Once Ken entered the conference room, Marcel called out to Caitlyn from behind. “Caitlyn, this is Ken Terrell, the man who really runs things around here.” He glanced back at Ken. “Ken, I’d like to introduce you to Caitlyn Thompson.”

  Startled, Ken dropped the folder in his hand the moment Caitlyn faced him. “I-I’m pleased to meet you, C-Caitlyn.” He stooped to gather the papers and regain his composure. Then he straightened and glanced at Marcel. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I can come back later.”

  Marcel waved off the apology. “No problem. Listen, Pop is still here if you want to see him.” He grabbed Caitlyn’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before we lose our reservation.”

  * * *

  Caitlyn tightly clutched her small handbag to her chest. “Thanks again for dinner. It’s been a wonderful evening.”

  Marcel drove Caitlyn back to her apartment after dinner since she’d taken BART to San Francisco to meet him. Seated inside his plush, black BMW, Caitlyn glanced over to find he’d turned his back against the door. From the moment he’d put the car in park, he hadn’t said a word, but his penetrating gaze spoke volumes. As far as she was concerned, he didn’t need to speak because what she saw in his eyes said it all. She saw unabashed desire and it burned her to a crisp. She knew if they ever got together, they would set off a five-alarm blaze.

  Caitlyn tore her gaze away and stared out the front windshield. Fear from the past reared its ugly head. At this point in her life, she didn’t want to feel an attraction for any man, and she certainly didn’t want to feel it this soon for the one sitting next to her. She’d experienced one disastrous relationship all because she’d foolishly placed her confidence in someone she thought she could trust. That error had nearly destroyed her, and it was one she’d vowed to never make again.

&
nbsp; She sucked in a deep breath. “Marcel, I-I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” The words came out hoarse and choked, despite her best effort to maintain a rock-steady tone.

  Marcel frowned. “Why?”

  “I-I’m not the right person for you to get involved with.”

  He shook his head. “You’re wrong on that one, Caitlyn.” He grabbed her left hand. “Can you honestly sit here and tell me I’m solo in what I’m feeling?”

  It was a long while before she could say anything. She could no more deny the attraction she felt for Marcel than not take her next breath. “No, and if I knew how to stop my emotions right now, I would.”

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. “Tell me what you feel.”

  She turned to him, staring with a soft gaze. “When?”

  “Right now.” He kissed the inside of her palm. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

  “When I’m with you, I feel safe…like nothing in the world can ever hurt me.”

  “Then hold on to that.” Releasing her hand, he inched over and braced his arm along the passenger seat.

  Caitlyn glanced over at him. “What do you feel?”

  He trailed his finger along her cheek and focused on her lips. “I feel like I’ll lose my mind if I don’t kiss you.” Despite the darkness, he tried to search her eyes for permission. He wouldn’t rush her. She’d been hurt once and he vowed no one would ever do it again. He waited patiently for her answer. The moment she looped her arm around his neck and parted her lips, it was all the acknowledgment he needed.

  The kiss started out gentle, but grew hotter, more urgent, and she moaned under the assault of his mouth. Marcel deepened the kiss, and she clutched the lapels of his jacket as though they were a life preserver that would protect her against the carnal storm threatening to sweep her out into the Pacific Ocean.

  When they parted, Caitlyn fought to breathe, fought to control her heart, which was beating as if she’d run a twenty-mile marathon. With her head bowed, she placed her hand at the center of her chest. “There’s something you should know.”

  Marcel released a long sigh of satisfaction. “Talk to me.”

  “I-I’m…”

  Marcel gently lifted her chin and met her gaze. “Come on, Caitlyn. Talk to me.” He stroked his finger along her brow. “You can trust me.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes. “He hurt me.”

  “What did he do?”

  The words lodged in her throat. The pain was still too raw, the hurt too deep. Caitlyn shook her head, an indication she wasn’t ready to discuss it.

  Marcel nodded his acceptance of her stance. “Listen, whenever you’re ready, all right?”

  With a solemn look, Caitlyn turned her face to hide the fear in her eyes. “I’ve been running from him for three years.”

  “Is that why you’ve been so reluctant to share information about yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  Without uttering another word, Marcel got out and walked around to the other side of the car. He opened the passenger door and helped Caitlyn out.

  Caitlyn looked up at him. “Marcel, I’ll understand if you don’t want my baggage at your doorstep.”

  He didn’t bother to shut the door and kept his gaze steady with hers. “When can I see you again?”

  * * *

  “Why haven’t you made any headway with BF Automotive?” Seated behind a huge marble-topped desk, Louis Hennings, president of New York City’s largest car dealership, held the phone from his ear and stared at it, unable to believe what he’d just heard.

  When he jammed the receiver back to his ear, he shouted, “You incompetent fool. This should never have gone on this long. The meeting for the new dealership is in a few weeks, and BF Automotive is still in the picture.”

  Leaning back, he whispered in a low, cold tone. “I don’t want to hear about problems. Frankly, I don’t care about problems.” With a death grip on the receiver, his voice inched up a notch with every word. “Fix the damn problems.”

  “Incompetent bastard.” Louis mumbled another string of oaths right before he slammed down the phone. A light tap at his door made him momentarily hold back another outburst. “What?”

  “Wow. What’s your beef?” Antonio, the company’s chief financial officer sauntered inside and stood in front of Louis’s desk.

  Louis frowned, his brown eyes almost black from fury. He rose from his chair so abruptly it toppled over. “What do you want?”

  Antonio looked stunned and tossed a manila folder in the center of Louis’s desk. “I want to know why you’re tossing money down the drain going after a dealership in California. That’s what.”

  Louis stalked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Manhattan. “BF Automotive is making things difficult for me.” He spaced each word evenly. “I hate complications.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

  Louis whirled around. “I want the dealership they bid on.”

  Antonio shook his head in confusion. “Back up. First of all, who the hell is BF Automotive?”

  Louis faced the window again without answering.

  “We have more business here than we can handle right now.” Antonio propped his right hip on the edge of the desk. “Besides, this is another business deal, right?”

  Louis turned around slowly, a wry smile at the corner of his lips. “For your information, it’s not.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Listen, your job around here is to handle the finances.” Louis jabbed a finger at the center of his chest. “I’m the CEO, and I decide what dealerships we go after. Clear?”

  * * *

  After their first lunch date, Caitlyn and Marcel saw each other every day. She eagerly accepted his invitation to attend a banquet at the Marriott City Center in downtown Oakland. Merritt Corporation, an Oakland-based communications company, hosted the annual black-tie affair, and Caitlyn was thrilled that Marcel was being honored with an award for his outstanding achievements in community service.

  After the two-hour event ended, Caitlyn made a quick trip to the ladies’ room. She looked stunning in a black-and-white off-the-shoulder gown with a bias-split front that clung to her petite frame and showed a hint of cleavage.

  On her way back, she spotted Marcel in the hallway outside the ballroom. She stopped, her eyes moving admiringly over the man dressed in a black tailored tuxedo accented with a brilliant red-and-silver brocade vest and a black silk ascot. Not wanting to disturb his conversation, she walked closer, but remained silent behind him.

  “Marilyn, thank you for coming.” Marcel leaned down and placed a soft kiss against her cheek.

  Marilyn offered a genuine smile. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” She looked up and softly cleared her throat. “I believe your lovely date has returned.”

  Marcel turned and slowly bobbed his head up and down. Caitlyn was a deadly combination any man would be a fool not to appreciate. She was classy and sexy at the same time.

  Caitlyn smiled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She walked up to Marilyn. “Hello. I’m Caitlyn Thompson.”

  Marilyn nodded graciously. “I’m Marilyn. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Caitlyn figured this was one of Marcel’s business associates and tossed her thumb in a joking gesture in his direction. “So, do you work with this character?”

  “Uh…yes, I do.”

  Caitlyn studied the soft golden features of the woman in front of her until her brow arched. “God, your voice sounds very familiar.” The sweet, husky utterance was unmistakable. She stared a few seconds longer, her mind rewinding in the process. “I’m sorry, but I’d swear on a stack of bibles that I’ve talked to you before.”

  Marilyn glanced nervously at Marcel, but didn’t comment.

  Without warning, Caitlyn’s stomach flipped, and she stepped back with her arms hugging her small waist. “I have spoken to you.” She swallowed
back the lump lodged in her throat. “You’re the person I spoke to a few weeks ago to arrange a meeting with a philanthropist to discuss funding my youth center, aren’t you?”

  Caitlyn studied the agitated glance between Marcel and Marilyn. “If I remember correctly, you said your name was Marilyn Jenkins, right?”

  Marilyn nodded slowly. “That’s correct.”

  “Y-You said the philanthropist you represented received my proposal. Isn’t that right?”

  Marilyn quickly glanced over at Marcel then to Caitlyn before she lowered her head. “Yes.”

  “And…” Caitlyn sensed something wasn’t right and immediately turned to Marcel. “What’s going on here?”

  He grabbed her hand. “Caitlyn, listen, let’s go somewhere—”

  “Marcel, do you know anything about all of this?” She pulled her hand free.

  He released a long sigh. “Yes.”

  Caitlyn stood rigid. “Well, are you going to tell me?”

  After a pregnant pause, Marcel softly uttered his admission. “Caitlyn, I’m the philanthropist Marilyn represents.”

  Caitlyn took a step back, her dark brown eyes flashing and jaw clenched. “So, you’re telling me you’ve known about me and the youth center all along?”

  Marcel jammed his hands in his pockets, took a deep breath and planted his feet apart. “Yes.”

  Caitlyn started to laugh, but the solemn look on Marcel’s face made her think otherwise. “This is a joke, right?”

  When Marcel didn’t say anything, she silently prayed he would tell her her imagination had gotten the best of her. “Marcel—”

  “Caitlyn, listen…”

  “How long have you known about me and the center?” Before he could answer, she hit him with another question. “Don’t tell me from the day we first met.”

  With his eyes focused on the floor, and without lifting his head, he admitted the truth. “No. Long before that.”

  Caitlyn’s slanted eyes grew to the size of quarters. “What do you mean, long before that?”

  He released a hard breath and his left hand landed at the base of his neck. “I-I received your proposal three weeks before I met you.”