Regal

by Tina Martin

Senior Architect | St. Claire Architects

  ___________

  Felicity automatically rolled her eyes while reluctantly dialing his number.

  “Wow. You called,” he said. “Angels must be singing in heaven. A volcano is about to erupt. We’re about to get hit with a hurricane and an earthquake at the same time.”

  “Ha, ha, ha. Funny. What do you want?”

  “I have a question—exactly how does this work? You just sent me three profiles and I’m supposed to go out with all three of these broads—I mean, women?”

  “You can go out with all of them if you find them all suitable. If not, you can pick and choose. You don’t have to go out with all three.”

  “So this is going to be like a group date?”

  “No. All dates are one-on-one so you can get to know each person individually.”

  “Right…okay here’s what I would like to do. I want to come to your office tomorrow so we can talk about this.”

  Felicity rolled her eyes and look heavenward. Give me strength, Lord…

  “Regal, there’s nothing to discuss,” she said.

  “There is. I don’t want to go into this blind. I need to go in knowing exactly what I’m doing.”

  “I thought Ramsey gave you the rundown on how this works.”

  “He told me some basics about the process, but as you very well know, Ramsey didn’t go on a single date with the women you chose for him since he had already found Gianna. Now, what time can I come in tomorrow?”

  “I’m booked tomorrow.”

  “What about lunch? Can you take a lunch break?”

  “You want me to use my lunch break to meet with you?”

  “I need help. I was under the impression you’d go above and beyond to help your clients—at least that’s what I read on your boujee website…”

  “I do—”

  “In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said cutting her off. “I’ll bring lunch.”

  “Regal—”

  “Have a good day, Felicity,” he said, then hung up the phone.

  Felicity released a heavy sigh and could only shake her head. She closed her laptop and looked at the clock. The time had escaped her. It was already a quarter ‘til seven, and she was supposed to meet creepy Donald at six-thirty.

  She quickly changed back into her heels and rushed to lock the door on the way out of the suite.

  Chapter 11

  Felicity parked the car and nearly broke a heel as she ran up to the restaurant’s entrance. She saw Donald sitting at the same table as last week. Same uniform. Same folder.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she was saying as she approached.

  “Let me guess—tied up at the office?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately.” She settled in her chair.

  “Doesn’t your office close at five?”

  “No. Five-thirty.”

  “In that case, I think you need to prioritize some things, Felicity. My time is very valuable.”

  “Yes, I understand that which is why I apologized. Now, what did you find out?” Felicity asked, but Donald was only staring at her with something like a smirk on his orange face. Was he still upset about her late arrival?

  What gives with this guy?

  He interlocked his chubby, pale fingers on top of the folder. “Whenever we meet, you want to jump right in to see what I’ve found out. You didn’t speak to me or ask me about my day. You just went right into the investigation.”

  “That’s what I hired you for, Mr. McConnell.”

  “Donald,” he corrected sternly. His puffy eyes looked like they’d sunk into his face. “My name is Donald.”

  Felicity frowned. “There’s no need to raise your voice. I can hear just fine?”

  “Can you? Because several times now I’ve had to correct you on what to call me and you’re still not getting it.”

  What an idiot, Felicity thought. And is he really turning red in the face? He offset his ridiculousness with a chuckle.

  “Look, I don’t know what you thought this was, but I want to find my daughter and you’re wasting my time, so I’m going home.” Felicity stood up and had taken a few steps from the table when she heard Donald blurt out, “I found her.”

  At that point, Felicity didn’t take another step away from him. She immediately returned to the table and sat down again. “You found her?”

  “Ye-yeah. I did.”

  Felicity didn’t care about the cheap look on his face or the fact that he still had his hands interlocked, staring at her like he had some sort of power over her. In a way, he did. He knew where her daughter was.

  “Where is she?” she inquired, desperate for anything.

  “Remember last week I told you she was in Charlotte?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was adopted by—uh—by a white family out in the Ballantyne area.”

  Tears clouded her ability to see. She blinked them away. “She was adopted. My baby girl was adopted. I can’t believe it.”

  “I can. Whites have been adopting black youngins for years now. Baffles me.”

  Felicity scowled. “What are you talking about? I don’t care that they’re white.”

  “I’m just saying…thought blacks took issue with whites adopting black children is all.”

  Felicity sniffled. “What’s the issue? They did something I couldn’t and that’s provide my daughter with a home and two parents who loved and took care of her. The color of their skin doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah. I suppose you have a point.”

  Felicity still wanted to leave because something about this dude didn’t feel right. Were all private investigators creepy and opinionated?

  “How can I make contact with the family?” Felicity asked him.

  “Now slow down, young lady. That ball is in my court. I’ll make the initial contact.”

  “Have you done that yet?”

  “No. I wanted to talk to you first, darlin’. When will you like me to contact them?”

  Felicity felt her nerves go crazy – her thoughts were too many to process all at once. One thing she did know was, she didn’t want to drag this on unnecessarily. “I want you to contact them right away.”

  “Okay. You got it.”

  “What will you say?” she asked further.

  “I got a canned script to feed to them—that the birth mother has requested to see the child blah, blah, blah—then I’ll wait for a response. Now, I’m going to warn you—a lot of times, the adoptive parents don’t want this sort of interaction with the birth mother.”

  “Why not?”

  “Fear—they see it as the first step in the birth mother’s attempt to get the child back—a child they’ve already loved and bonded with.”

  Felicity sighed. That was hard to take, but she understood the adoptive parent’s position.

  “What’s your end goal here, Felicity? Do you want to see your daughter—?”

  “I wanted to get her back but you’re telling me she’s adopted and—” Felicity’s words faded as she attempted to digest the emotions running through her at the moment.

  Donald watched her for a moment before reaching across the table, laying his rough, calloused, overweight hand on top of hers. “It’ll be fine. I know it sounds like a lot, but we’ll get through this.”

  She snatched her hand from beneath his and said, “Just proceed with the initial contact and we’ll go from there.” She stood up.

  “Wait. Where are you rushing off to? Stay and have a bite to eat.”

  “No, thanks, and by the way—the communication we’re having should be over the phone from this point forward. It’s such an inconvenience to meet up with you somewhere only for you to tell me something that a simple phone call could’ve taken care of. My time is valuable as well.”

  “I like to chat with my clients in person.”

  “You need to make an exception for this client,” she snapped. “No more meetings face-to-face. If you got something to say, call me.”
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  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his eyes roaming her body as she walked away.

  Chapter 12

  Regal got out of the car with a Jimmy John’s takeout bag walking to Felicity’s office building. Up on the third floor, he found the door to her suite locked. He knocked. Moments later, he saw Felicity come around the corner barefoot.

  When she unlocked the door, he said, “So this is how you treat your clients? Lock them out, even when they bring you food?”

  “You’re the only wacko that has ever brought me food.”

  He chuckled. “That should give me an advantage, then.”

  “Not really. I usually like to get out of the office on my lunch break and get some fresh air. Thanks to you, I’m stuck indoors.”

  “We can eat outside if you’d prefer.”

  “Nah. You’re already here now. Come on back to my office.”

  Walking behind her, he checked her out. Today, she had on a pair of red pants and a black, body-hugging blouse. And she smelled good, too. Sweet. Her hair was up in a bun. Oversize gold hoops swung from her ears.

  “Where’s Zimbabwe today?” he asked lowering the food bag to her desk.

  A chuckle escaped her lips. “Zandra is out to lunch.”

  “Cool. I got you all to myself. No witnesses.”

  Felicity pretended not to hear him by glancing at her computer screen.

  “I didn’t get drinks,” Regal said.

  “There’s water in the break room.”

  “Right,” he said. He walked down the hallway.

  While he was gone, she felt like she could breathe a little but he was right back and she felt the same urgency she felt whenever he was around. And he was dressed like a million bucks again today. He had on a white dress shirt, black and white tie, black vest that contoured to the shape of his torso and the matching dress pants. The cufflinks he wore probably cost more than all the jewelry she owned.

  Regal placed the water bottles on the desk and removed sandwiches from the bag. She immediately began eating. Covering her mouth with a napkin, she asked, “So, tell me what you’re confused about.”

  “I’m not confused. Uninformed is more like it. Walk me through the process.”

  “Okay, so I sent you the profiles of three women, along with pictures. Your job is to review them and tell me who you want to go out with.”

  “I could choose all three if I wanted?”

  “For individual dates. Yes. Did you find anyone of particular interest?”

  He wiped his mouth, drank some water then looked at her. The corners of his eyes crinkled. Cheeks dimpled.

  She was smiling when she said, “Regal, I’m not playing no games with you today.”

  “What? I didn’t do anything. All I did was smile.”

  “I know a sneaky smile when I see one.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  He took a bite of his sandwich and after chewing said, “I was just thinking that you look very beautiful today. I like your hair up like that. What y’all call that? A bun?”

  “Yes, and thank you. Now, focus on the profiles. Did you find any of them of particular interest?”

  He wanted to tell her that he hadn’t because it was the truth. The only woman who had ever interested him was her, but he had to play this thing out if he planned on seeing her again, so he lied and said, “Yes, just one.”

  “Which one?”

  “Uh...” he wiped his hands before reaching in his pocket. He couldn’t remember the broad’s name or nothing else about her honestly. He pulled out the folded profile and handed it to her. “This one.” He still hadn’t said her name.

  Felicity opened it and saw the woman he was referring to. Danella Murphy. She quickly re-read the woman’s profile:

  Name: Danella Murphy

  Age: 34

  Occupation: Teacher

  Description: Hi. I’m Danella, a teacher from Davidson, North Carolina. I’m very outgoing, can cook up a delicious meal and is a borderline neat freak.

  Interesting facts about me: I stopped teaching Middle School English to focus on helping adults acquire their GED. Also, 12 years ago, I made the USA Gymnastics Team.

  Anything else you want to add: My ideal man would be family-oriented, a good listener and provider - he would be the kind of man my father has always been to my mother.

  Felicity looked up at him. His eyes were attentive, trained on her. For a second, she thought she read something in them other than anticipation but she couldn’t be sure.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I think she’s worth a date. Danella was actually my first choice for you.”

  “Why?” He ate more of his sandwich.

  After a swig of water, she said, “Because you two have so much in common.”

  “And here I was believing the old adage that opposites attract.”

  “In a lot of cases, yes, but this woman likes golf. Do you know how rare it is for a black woman to actually like playing golf?”

  “I do, but I don’t need nor do I want a woman who likes everything that I like.”

  “Of course not, and Danella doesn’t like everything you like. It was the golf that caught my attention. And she’s beautiful. I think you two would look good together.”

  Regal faked a smile to hide his displeasure. Yeah, Danella’s profile picture was pretty but she wasn’t her – Felicity – so her looks didn’t faze him.

  “Do you want to set up a date with her?”

  “Can I have a day or two to think about it?”

  “Sure you can.”

  When the two neared the end of their sandwiches, Regal said, “I still think it’s odd that you run a business like this and you’re not married.”

  “What can I say? I’m a sucker for happily ever afters.”

  “Just not your own.”

  She drank water. His words stung because she never had anyone be so direct with her about how obvious it was that she put everyone else’s happiness ahead of her own. In essence, she was using the job to avoid her own reality. To evade what could’ve been in her life by living vicariously through her clients. He wanted to know why.

  “Tell me—why doesn’t Felicity James have a happily ever after?”

  Felicity chuckled uncomfortably. Why did he care about her happiness? A better question was, why did she feel comfortable enough to want to open up to him about it?

  “Um…I had my chance at happily ever after. I didn’t choose wisely, so it wasn’t meant to be. And that’s the end of that.” She drank more water.

  “That’s it? You just gave up?”

  “No. I redirected my focus towards something I can control, like my success.”

  “You don’t think you’re in control of your own happiness, Felicity?”

  She glanced up at him. He’d leaned forward, shoulders wide. Eyes alert. “I do, but I can’t control another person’s heart.”

  With concern in his voice, Regal said, “Tell me what that means.”

  She opened her mouth to respond but – nothing. There was a long pause.

  He’s a client, Felicity. A friend. He’s not a therapist. You don’t have to tell him anything.

  “Tell me,” he urged when he recognized her hesitancy.

  “I was with someone and he left me when I needed him the most.”

  “One bad relationship was enough to break you?”

  “Everyone has a breaking point.”

  “I disagree. Everyone has trials, problems, different situations in life that can lead them down a path toward a breaking point, but before you get there, you have a choice to see the light at the end of the tunnel or plunge into a pit of darkness.”

  It was that comment that made her believe Ramsey when he told her Regal had a more serious side about himself. And he made sense. Who knew? He actually listened to her. Gave her some advice. Maybe he would be a good friend to confide in. Or maybe not.

  He’s a client, Felicity. A client! />
  She cleared her throat, put her business face on again and stared into his very inviting gaze. “My past is very complicated and messy but it has made me stronger though it caused me a lot of pain.” She took down more water. “Do you want a date? With Danella?” she clarified.

  “I just told you I needed a few days to think about it.”

  “Oh. Yes. Right. Well, if you don’t have any further questions about the process—”

  “I do have another question.”

  Crap! “Okay.”

  “The guy I asked you about who was here last Monday—”

  Oh. Creepy Donald. “Yes. What about him?”

  “Why is he always sitting outside in the parking lot?”

  Felicity frowned. “Hunh?”

  “I saw him on the way in today and the last time I came by, he was out there, too.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. How do you know him? Is he a client?”

  “No. Look—I’ll take care of it.” She stood up. “Thank you for lunch.”

  “Thank you for meeting with me,” he said, standing. He reached for her hand and when she accepted the shake, she could feel his energy transferring to her body. Good energy.

  He could feel it, too, and he wanted to feel more of it. He released her hand and walked around her desk where he closed his arms around her.

  “Why are you—?” she asked breathlessly and couldn’t get the entire question out. She made a second attempt. “Why are you hugging me?”

  “Because I feel like you need one,” he said, squeezing her harder and holding her head securely to his chest.

  Felicity closed her eyes and relaxed her body against his while closing her arms around him. Was a hug supposed to feel this good? This one felt like getting into bed after a long, stressful day. It put her in a state of peace. Tranquility. With her head flat against his chest, their bodies sharing heat, she realized she didn’t have this kind of support – the comforting touch of a man. She could feel his strong, muscly arms tight around her body, holding her like she belonged to him. Nothing compared.