Chance on Lovin' You

by Eboni Snoe

  Sasha thought before she responded. What difference would it make if she told Olive the truth? There was nothing between her and Cay now.

  “Yes,” Sasha said softly, “we were together.”

  Olive leaned forward. “Well, I’m pleased. I think you would bring some spark back into his life. He acts like he’s walking a tightrope that could break at any moment.”

  Sasha looked down again. She didn’t feel like explaining what had happened.

  “But you know, it just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What doesn’t make any sense, Olive?” It was hard for Sasha to concentrate.

  “I thought with you two going off together like that it would mellow him out a bit.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know what it’s going to take to help Mr. Cay find peace. The Ellises have their problems, that’s for sure.”

  “Did he seem upset?” Sasha asked hopefully. Maybe, just maybe, he was hurting, too.

  “If upset is a strong enough word,” Olive declared. “All I know is whatever had him going involved his father. I swear, every member of that family must be going through some kind of crisis. One moment Sherry is her regular stuck-up self, the next she is as sweet as a lamb. Mr. Ellis walks around as if he’s in a world of his own, but when he comes out of it he’s surlier than a bull, and Mr. Cay…I don’t know.” Her eyebrows knitted together. “Out of all of them, he’s been the one who has tried to do the right thing, even though it wasn’t always easy for him. Years of working for folks who never seem to be happy gets a little heavy sometimes. But lately things appear to be coming to a head, like a boil. Maybe it’s the dark before the light, as my mother used to say. You know, folks say there are always signs foretelling change, but you’ve got to be aware enough to read them.”

  Sasha remained quiet. It was hard for her to consider the things that had occurred as positive signs.

  “On a few occasions,” Olive continued, “while Precious was alive, I would come to the Bethel House to get away. Being here comforted me. It still does.” She looked around.

  “How did you and Baltron come to work for the Ellises?”

  “Oh-h, that was a long time ago, and it began with quite a stir. Mr. Ellis had been drinking and he was about to get himself killed over another man’s woman. The man was his gardener.” She tugged at her nose. “Baltron happened to be around to talk the man out of it, and he ended up taking Mr. Ellis home. That night Mr. Ellis offered Baltron the gardener’s job. Baltron needed the work, but he told Mr. Ellis he would take the position under one condition.”

  “What was that?”

  “That he’d never try the same thing with me that he tried with the first gardener’s wife.” Olive’s eyes brightened.

  “Oh-h.” Sasha nearly smiled.

  “Mr. Ellis said it was a deal and that he would make it easy for Baltron to keep an eye on me if he wanted to. He said they could use my help in the kitchen.” She laughed. “It wasn’t long before the cook was gone. She wanted to go home, back to the islands.” Olive looked ill at ease. “I hope my popping in like this didn’t cause you any trouble?” she repeated for the third time.

  “No. No trouble at all.” Sasha couldn’t admit the truth. “I’m looking forward to eating these conch fritters after I take a walk on the beach.”

  Olive patted her poofy hair. “You know, there’s a shortcut to the beach from the back of the house here.” She pointed.

  “I noticed the trees thin out at the bottom of the slope, and I wondered about that,” Sasha replied.

  “It’s really simple. All you have to do is follow the path.”

  “Oh, so the path leads to the private beach?” Sasha thought about the possibility of running into Cay. She didn’t want to see him if he didn’t want to see her.

  “It’s the private beach, but you’ll be coming out close to where the public property begins,” Olive said with nonchalance. “I don’t care how much money you have, you can’t divide up the ocean,” she quipped.

  “No, you can’t,” Sasha agreed, and became pensively quiet. “I think I’m going to walk down to that stand that sells old-fashioned Sno-Kones. I’ve seen it from the road. I haven’t had one of those since I was a little girl. My mother used to give me money so I could buy one whenever she knew I was sad.” A wistful look crossed her face. “And I’m craving one right now.”

  “They have some good ones. Mr. Smith, an old fella that patrols both beaches, has been running that stand for years. He knows some of everything about everybody. I don’t know how he sits out there under that umbrella day after day. It’s got to get really hot sometimes.” Olive sighed. “But you know, on the other hand, I guess I do know how he could do it. The man must be at least eighty years old. It’s a good way to stay in touch with people and earn some money to boot. But at my age I can’t even eat a Sno-Kone. They give me a headache real quick.” She patted the top of her head.

  Sasha’s thoughts had left Olive again. She was thinking about Cay, the Ellis family, and their troubles—the jumbled events that had occurred since she moved to Magic Key.

  “Well, I guess I better be going.” Olive looked at her watch.

  Once the elder woman took her leave, Sasha went into the bedroom, where she threw on a large airy dress and some beach shoes. A walk along the water could do her good.

  Olive turned out to have been right about the shortcut. Within minutes Sasha was on the Ellises’ private beach. She walked along the edge of the water, virtually alone. She was thankful for that as she focused on the colors in the distance. As Sasha drew closer they transformed into beach umbrellas and beach-goers.

  The walk was sobering. She had not planned to cry, but as the salty breeze touched her face, she felt the loneliness of a woman alone in paradise. Inevitably, the tears began to fall. No matter how she had tried to condition herself, Sasha realized there was no way to prepare for this kind of hurt. Cynically, she thought, age had nothing to do with it. Love was still blind. Forever hoping for the best, no matter the size or color of the warning signs.

  Sasha threw back her head and laughed while the tears streamed down her face. No one ever could have told her she could hurt like this.

  The pure blue water was warm against her ankles. Somehow trudging through it with the sun barreling down on her face helped her accept what had happened. But it didn’t explain why. She had tried to keep her distance from Cay, but her heart hadn’t let her. Why was she allowed to feel so deeply, only for it to be snatched away?

  When Sasha reached the Sno-Kone stand she got in line behind a young couple. The young tanned man couldn’t keep his hands off his shapely young woman. Sasha watched him constantly whisper in the woman’s ears. The woman giggled in response and laid her head against his chest. It was so obvious they were in love.

  Sasha felt a pang of jealousy. She didn’t recall ever having what this couple had, the freedom to love openly and wholeheartedly, and she wondered if they realized the magnitude of the gift. Sasha watched as they bought one Sno-Kone and walked off slurping it out of the paper container at the same time.

  “May I help you, little lady?” the spry man behind the icebox inquired.

  “You sure can,” Sasha replied. “Can you give me a dose of what those two have?”

  He leaned over the small cooler-counter and studied the couple as they walked away. “I tell you, I see it every day. If you went by what happens on this beach, you would think everybody in the world was in love,” he quipped. “But sorry to say, all I can give you is the same flavor Sno-Kone.”

  “I guess that will have to do,” Sasha replied.

  Mr. Smith positioned himself to dish up the crushed ice. He looked back at Sasha, who was staring off into space. “Did you know we’re having an oyster roast tonight?”

  “No, this is the first time I’ve heard about it,” Sasha replied in a scattered fashion.

  “We have it once a year.” Mr. Smith packed the ice into the funnel-shaped cup. “It’s a good time. We
start at seven and go until eleven, if you’re interested.”

  “I don’t know,” Sasha said, her thoughts far away. “I might come.”

  Mr. Smith made circles with his arm as he maneuvered the ice beneath the flowing syrup. He glanced up at Sasha. “What’s the world coming to when a pretty lady like you has to ask me, an old geezer selling Sno-Kones, to give her a dose of love?”

  “That’s a good question, isn’t it?” Sasha began to bat her eyes far too frequently.

  “You know what I’ve learned selling Sno-Kones here for years?”

  “No. And believe me, I couldn’t guess.”

  “I’ve learned people have to truly open themselves to love. They’ve got to believe in it. They’ve got to want it.” He wiped off the paper cup. “And if there is nothing blocking that space, love will come. I guarantee it.” He handed Sasha the Sno-Kone.

  She took the treat and smiled. “Well, who could resist a red Sno-Kone with a guarantee like that?”

  Chapter 32

  Sherry found Cay in the library. His fists were balled up at his sides, his back muscles tensing beneath his silk shirt. She thought of how it would feel to have Cay’s arms around her, wanting her, bestowing on her the position of mistress of Guana Manor. It was a feeling she had anticipated for a long time. A very long time…and she was growing tired of waiting. Yet Sasha Townsend had experienced some of that, Sherry was sure of it. Sasha Townsend, who, in Sherry’s opinion, couldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole.

  “So did you have a good time?” she asked as she entered the room.

  There was a long pause before Cay answered. “This isn’t a good time to start up with me, Sherry,” he replied without turning to face her.

  “I would have assumed it was an excellent time. Now that you’ve finally quenched that celibate sexual appetite of yours. I would think you’d be in the best of moods.” She sat on top of the desk and crossed her legs. “Or was it a disappointment because the woman you chose to lie down with is so far beneath you?”

  Cay gave Sherry a dark, ominous look. “You only wish.”

  “Oh, my, my, my. That’s a look I haven’t seen before.” Sherry leaned back. “It appears she’s been able to melt the Ice King. I wonder why is it that lower-class women tend to be able to do that for men of your status? Is it because they’re less inhibited? Or because they are tramps by nature?”

  “Who’s worse, Sherry? A woman who lays down with a man because she cares for him? Or a woman who wants to lay down with her dead husband’s brother?”

  “Touché.” Sherry’s eyes gleamed. “She’s really gotten to you, hasn’t she? Ms. Townsend must be good at that. Now she has you and Jason Williams dangling from her beckoning finger.”

  “What does Jason Williams have to do with this?” Cay’s tone was razor-sharp.

  “Of course, he is her so-called attorney,” Sherry said lightly as she picked up Khalil Gibran’s The Rubiyat from the desk. “But I think the real importance lies in her bedding the two of you as part of her MO. She’s never been coy about being a woman who knows her way around. So” —she stroked the book’s burgundy leather cover— “she may be low-classed, but I have to admit she is also smart. She’s got all her bases covered. Ms. Townsend’s banking on you to buy the Bethel property for an enormous sum, or if not, she’s got Jason’s nose wide open, and he’s prepared to sue you for a similar amount. Sue you for the pain and suffering she’s been through. The anguish.”

  “Sasha doesn’t want the money. When she arrived here she didn’t even know about the Bethel Agreement. Sasha wants the property so she can start her own business. She’s a very independent woman. But that’s something you wouldn’t know anything about,” Cay retorted.

  “That’s the story she gave us, that she didn’t know about the agreement. I think she did know and she has been manipulating all of us.” Sherry paused to let the seed settle in. “Tell you what. Why don’t you see if I know what I’m talking about? Call Jason Williams. Ask him how long he’s been in her employ. If he tells you more than a month, you know she was lying.”

  Cay glanced at the telephone on the desk.

  “Come on, Cay, call him. Or are you afraid to find out that for once you’ve been somebody’s toy?”

  The image of Sasha in Jason Williams’s arms appeared in his mind. Memories from the night before, and the pain of having to let her go, intensified the scene. Sasha was a passionate woman. It was hard to imagine her living a celibate life.

  Years of negative conditioning toward women stirred. Cay could hear his father saying, “A woman cannot be faithful, Cay. So you should never become attached to one. If you do…make sure she’s damn near an angel; it’s the only way you can be sure of her.”

  “Sasha made her relationship with Attorney Williams clear at dinner the other night. I didn’t hear him disagree with her,” Cay said, fighting to keep his equilibrium.

  “No, he didn’t.” Sherry wet her lips. “It wouldn’t have been in his best interest. But I noticed he was unnecessarily aggressive with you, and he carried a rather strange air about him the entire evening. Almost as if he were holding something back. I think they have something going. We women have a sixth sense about this kind of thing. You can ignore it if you like, but how can it hurt you? Call Jason, Cay. Tell him for settlement purposes you need to take the entire picture into consideration.”

  “I don’t have Williams’s phone number,” he admitted with a tight jaw, embarrassed by the force of jealousy that churned within him.

  “Here you go, brother-in-law. I thought this might come in handy.” Sherry was leaning toward him with a business card between her fingers.

  Cay caught a whiff of her expensive perfume when he took the card, and it sickened him. He moved to the other side of the desk and dialed the number. Watching Sherry as closely as he would watch a black widow spider, Cay spoke into the receiver. “I want to speak to Attorney Williams He isn’t? When do you expect him? Yes, I would. Tell him that Cay Ellis the third called and that I would like for him to call me as soon as possible. Thank you,” Cay said and hung up.

  “He wasn’t there?” Sherry looked exasperated.

  “No, he wasn’t.”

  “Well, I think you should make Ms. Townsend a reasonable offer for the Bethel property and see what she says.” Sherry flipped through the gold-edged pages of the book.

  “I told you, money isn’t everything to Sasha,” Cay said. “She’s not afraid to admit she needs it, but it’s not her driving force. Not at this point in her life.”

  Sherry made a clicking sound in her throat. “What a ploy. Claiming she’s the ultimate independent woman. It seems to work, though.” She shrugged. “Makes a man like you want to reel her in. I wish I had thought of that one.” She grinned mockingly. “You see, Cay, you thought you were the fisherman and Ms. Townsend was the fish, but I can see it was the other way around.”

  “I’ve heard enough.” Cay walked across the room.

  “If you don’t want to make her an offer, I will. Just tell me the amount,” Sherry volunteered, pushing to end the tie between Cay and Sasha.

  “If there is any offer to be made I’ll make it myself,” Cay replied.

  “Just trying to help.” She slid off the desk. “And Cay…” Sherry called.

  “Yes, Sherry?”

  “You will let me know what you find out, won’t you?”

  “It will be my pleasure.”

  Sherry turned away with a smile, but inside she felt tired. She wondered how it would feel to just let go, to not have to fight for what she wanted. Sherry closed her eyes. She wouldn’t have to fight with Jason. Jason still loved her. She could tell. But she opened her eyes and willed the thought away.

  The telephone rang as Sasha walked through the back door. She ran over and picked it up, then carefully made her way back to the rug. She began to wipe the sticky sand from her feet. “Hello-o.”

  Cay didn’t know what he had expected, but the merry hello that e
choed from the receiver certainly wasn’t it. “Hello, Sasha. This is Cay.”

  “Cay” —she tried to calm the excitement in her voice—” I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  “Are you alone?”

  With furrowed brows Sasha looked down at the receiver. “Yes, I am. What is it, Cay? What does my being alone have to do with anything?”

  “I …” He drew out the word. “I have some business to discuss with you of a private nature. I didn’t think you would want to discuss it in front of anyone…maybe your attorney” —the title was clipped— “but no one else.”

  Sasha looked at the phone again. Cay didn’t sound like himself. There was a strange edge to his voice. “No, it’s okay. Go ahead.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the issue that we have lying on the table concerning the Bethel Agreement….”

  “Yes.” Sasha pulled out a dinette chair and sat down.

  “As I told you on the plane, I’ve come to the conclusion that I do want to make you an offer for the property.”

  Sasha couldn’t believe he was going forward with it. That he’d called to talk about business and nothing else. “I see.” Her chest felt heavy.

  “I’m very aware of property values in these parts, and I know what I’m about to offer is a very good deal. I’m prepared to pay you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the house.”

  “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” Sasha repeated with disbelief. “That’s a lot of money,” she whispered into the phone. “Getting the Bethel property back must mean an awful lot for you to offer me so much.”

  “Let’s just say I’m a fair businessman.”

  “Is that what you call this? A fair business deal?” Sasha swiped away the tear that tickled the bottom of her face.

  “What would you call it?”

  “I don’t know.” There was silence on the line. “I’m going to have to think about this,” Sasha replied in a deadpan voice.