The Highest Bidder

by Chanta Rand

“Once a week?” Alexa complained. “Viola, I asked you to do it every day.”

  She shrugged. “They’re still alive. Animals are stronger than you think.”

  “Did you dust my plants?”

  “Yeah, I dusted those sad looking excuses for plastic. You really need to get some real plants in there.”

  She hugged her again. “Thanks, Viola. I owe you big time.”

  “You said it, not me.”

  Viola helped her grab her luggage from the carousel, and then the two of them walked the short distance to the parking lot. When Viola pressed the keys on the car alarm, Alexa noticed it was her own Mercedes convertible.

  “Hey, you’re driving my car?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Viola replied. “You told me to make myself at home. So I did.”

  Alexa laughed. Yep. Same old Dallas. Same old Viola. Nothing had changed. Thank God. She was glad to be back home.

  * * *

  The next day, Alexa had lunch with her girlfriends. They were eager to hear all about her trip. She told them about the clinic, the doctors she worked with, and the patients she helped. “I also fell in love with the Brazilian cuisine,” she told them. “I’m inviting each of you to my house this weekend to try some of the dishes I learned how to make.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s lovely,” Viola rushed her. “Tell them about Dr. Silva.”

  Alexa rolled her eyes skyward. “That man was either very horny or very used to getting what he wants. I practically had to issue a restraining order against him.”

  “He couldn’t keep his hands off her,” Viola declared.

  Yvette gasped. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. He gave new meaning to the term hands on,” Alexa said, giggling. “Every day, he had a new strategy. The embarrassing part was that all the other doctors noticed it too.” She shook her head. “He was stalking me like a white girl chasing an NBA player. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.” Her friends’ hysterical laughter filled the air. “And get this,” she told them. “The day before I left, he asked me to marry him.”

  “For real?” Jade asked. “What did he look like?”

  Jade always wanted to know what somebody looked like before she made a decision regarding his or her behavior. As if it made a difference! “He was gorgeous,” Alexa confessed. “Black, wavy hair; light-skinned; in shape. You would have liked him.”

  “Do you have a picture of him?”

  “Hell no! I don’t have a picture. What would I look like carrying his photo?”

  Once again, the ladies cracked up laughing.

  “Okay, okay, I guess that was crazy of me to ask,” Jade admitted. “But the burning question inquiring minds want to know is, did you sleep with him?”

  “No!” both Alexa and Viola shouted in unison.

  “I think all that hair dye has rotted your brain,” Viola quipped.

  Jade pursed her lips. “Do you really want to go there, Ms. Hot flash?”

  Viola gasped. “That was low. You know my menopause is off limits.”

  “Ladies,” Yvette refereed, “This lunch is all about Alexa, remember?”

  Alexa spoke up. “Don’t mind me. I’ve missed y’all’s fights. Besides, there’s not much more to tell about the trip. It was an experience I’ll never forget. But now I’m back in the real world.”

  “Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do?” Yvette inquired.

  “I’m still considering my options.”

  Viola reminded her, “There’s still a place for you at Mercy.”

  “Thanks, Alexa told her. “I’m just not sure I want to go back to Mercy. I want to do something different. MOG fulfilled me in ways I never thought possible. I’m thinking about getting more deeply involved in volunteer work.”

  “Yeah, but you still have to pay the bills.”

  “True. I just need some time to think it over.”

  Their orders arrived, and in between mouthfuls, her friends allowed Alexa to catch up on the latest events in their lives. Jade had received a promotion at work. She was now a Senior Auditor. The title came with a bigger office, a bigger caseload of work, and a bigger paycheck. Yvette told them about a class-action lawsuit she was working on. She couldn’t reveal any of the specific details, but she warned them to refrain from getting any plastic surgery until the case was over. Her comments prompted Viola to launch into a comical discussion about Ben Peterson’s most recent nose job.

  As Viola was talking, a strange woman approached the table. She was stylishly dressed, wearing chic sunshades, a designer handbag, and a classic black pantsuit. “Viola Turner, is that you?” she asked.

  Viola turned to see who had the gall to interrupt her story. Then, her wide lips broke into a happy grin when she saw who it was. Both women simultaneously squealed in delight when Viola jumped up to hug her. “It’s been so long,” Viola told her. “I hardly recognized you.”

  “Girl, you are looking good,” the strange woman responded.

  “I’m trying,” Viola laughed. “This rich food doesn’t make it any easier!”

  The woman turned to the other ladies, apparently just now realizing she’d intruded on their meal. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to crash the party. I just got so excited when I saw Viola.”

  “They don’t mind,” Viola assured her. “These are my closest friends. Alexa, Jade, and Yvette.” She turned to the group. “Everyone, this is Debbie. She’s an old friend of mine.”

  They all shook hands. “Are you still at Mercy?” Debbie asked.

  “I sure am,” Viola replied. “What about you? Still in the medical field too?”

  “Yes, but I’m doing something totally different now. I’m heading up a foundation called Second Chances.”

  “That’s a catchy name. What is it?”

  “It’s a wonderful program that provides medical services and counseling to inner city youths who can’t afford to pay on their own.”

  “Really?” Viola’s eyebrows peaked with interest. “That sounds like the type of work Alexa’s been doing.” She shot Alexa a quick glance. “She’s very interested in giving back to the community. She used to be a physician on staff at Mercy before she went to Brazil to help burn victims. In fact, she just got back yesterday.”

  Debbie looked suitably impressed. “I think it’s so important to help others in need. Too many times we get wrapped up in our own problems and don’t take the time to get involved in the lives of others. There are so many folks who need our help.”

  “I agree,” Alexa told her. “When I heard about the Medical Outreach Group I was immediately compelled to join their cause. I couldn’t stomach the thought of helpless women and children suffering just because they had no money to go to the doctor. I just couldn’t sit by and do nothing, knowing full well I had the power to improve their lives.”

  Debbie smiled. “I know exactly how you feel. I believe it’s our mission to enrich the lives of others. I just can’t believe there are good people out there like you who feel the same.”

  “Oh, we can vouch for her,” Viola promised. “Alexa’s dedicated to saving the world.”

  Alexa smiled sweetly, but under the table, she gently kicked Viola’s leg.

  “We could use someone with your passion at Second Chances,” Debbie told her. “Most of our staff has your commitment, but not your background or level of expertise. And let’s face it, good intentions can only get us so far. We still need to provide quality medical care for anyone walking through the door. As a both a physician and a philanthropist, you would be ideal.”

  Yvette interrupted. “Alexa was just wondering what she was going to do now that she’s back from Brazil.” She looked at Alexa. “This seems like it’s right up your alley.”

  “Perfect,” Debbie said. “As a matter of fact, we’re looking for candidates to help open an office in Texas.” She fished in her purse and gave Alexa her business card. “Why don’t you come in next week and talk with us?” she in
vited. “Our CEO will be here on Thursday morning. It would be a great opportunity for you meet the key players.”

  This was unbelievable. Alexa hadn’t planned on being thrown back into the tumultuous melting pot of civilization so soon. She was still fighting the effects of jetlag, she had tons of mail to sort through, and she desperately needed the services of a fantastic hair stylist. Miracle worker was more like it. But at least she had until Thursday. That would give her plenty of time to make it to the hair salon and get a manicure. I probably still have Brazilian dirt under my fingernails. “Sure,” she heard herself say. “I’d love to come.”

  “Good,” Debbie said. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

  “It was good seeing you,” Viola told Debbie.

  “Likewise,” she replied. “And it was nice meeting all of you,” she said to the women. “Take care, ladies.”

  Alexa watched her walk through the front doors and out of the restaurant. “Did what I think happened just happen?” she asked aloud. “Did I just get a job interview?”

  “That’s what it sounded like to me,” Viola confirmed.

  Yvette spoke up. “Never mind the interview. Girl, it looks like you got the job!”

  “You think so?”

  “I’d bet money on it.”

  Jade squealed with delight. “I’m so excited for you, Alexa!”

  “Yeah,” Alexa said, still in shock. “I’m excited for me too.”

  “But between now and Thursday, you have to do something with that wild hair. I feel like I’m at a Chaka Khan concert.”

  “Amen,” Viola joined in. “And with those raggedy jeans you’re wearing, it’s a wonder the woman didn’t mistake you for a homeless vagrant.”

  Alexa laughed at her friends’ good-natured teasing. Before she left her apartment, she’d thrown on a pair of faded jeans, a wool poncho and her favorite pair of boots. She had no idea she’d be meeting a prospective employer. “I’m already a step ahead of you guys,” she assured the trio. “Don’t worry, by the day of the interview, I’ll be looking like Miss America.”

  “Which one?”

  “Vanessa Williams, of course.”

  “Now, that’s the Alexa Kennedy we all know and love.”

  Yvette raised her glass in the air. “Here’s to Alexa,” she offered an impromptu toast. “Welcome back to the land of the free and the home of the brave.”

  The women lightly tapped their glasses together. Alexa couldn’t stifle her happiness. Things were definitely looking up. If she played her cards right, maybe Second Chances would be her new beginning.

  * * *

  Debbie made a call from her cell phone. “I just met her,” she reported. “She’s beautiful and smart and nice. I like her. She’s perfect.”

  The voice on the other end of the line chuckled. “I told you that you would like her. Do you think she’ll come?”

  “Yes. She looked sincere. She’ll be there. I know she will. Then you can tell her everything.”

  “We have to get her in the door first.”

  “Getting her in the door will be the easy part. Convincing her to stay is your job.”

  “Yeah, no pressure, right?”

  “Don’t worry. I have complete faith in you.”

  “That makes one person.”

  “Don’t underestimate the power of your charm,” she instructed.

  “A man’s charm doesn’t stand a chance against a woman’s pride. Have you ever heard the saying, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?”

  “Heard it? I practically wrote it. That was my mantra during college. But then I met a wonderful man who loved me, and I forgot all about the people who’d broken my heart in the past. You of all people should realize that anger doesn’t last forever.”

  “You don’t know Alexa.”

  “Perhaps, but I do know people. And the one thing people respect is honesty. Have you ever heard the expression, the truth will set you free?”

  “Of course.”

  “Just tell her the truth and everything else will fall into place.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I’m a woman,” she reminded him. “We’re always right.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alexa navigated her car through the thick Thursday morning traffic. It only took thirty minutes for her to get from her apartment to the offices of Second Chances. That was definitely a positive sign. These days, a thirty-minute commute was practically unheard of, unless you were a pizza delivery boy who lived in New York and rode a bicycle to work.

  After circling the lot a few times, she finally found a good parking spot near the front door of the building. Normally she didn’t mind walking, but the killer heels she sported today didn’t lend themselves to long walks on the concrete. She checked her hair and lipstick in the rear view mirror. Earlier in the week, she’d managed a visit to the salon. Instead of getting her hair straightened, she opted to wear her natural, curly locks. The stylist told her a liberal spraying of frizz control serum each day would keep her unruly hair under control. When she looked in the mirror afterward, she hardly recognized herself.

  On the outside, she looked perfect. On the inside, her stomach was tilting like a pinball machine. She was so nervous. She hoped she could keep her breakfast from coming up. This meeting at Second Chances had been the gas that fueled her movements all week. She couldn’t mess up this opportunity. She had to pull it together. She stepped out of the car and smoothed the skirt of her navy pinstripe suit. Okay girl, knock ‘em dead.

  When she arrived at the reception desk, Debbie was waiting for her. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, shaking her hand. “Did you have any trouble finding our office?”

  “No, not at all,” Alexa told her. “In fact, I don’t live very far from here.”

  “Good. By the way, I love that suit.”

  “Thank you.” The woman would probably be amazed to learn that Alexa had changed outfits no less than five times before deciding on this one.

  “If you’ll follow me to the conference room, we can get started.” Debbie led her to a large room filled with two black leather sectionals and a glass table. Long panels of abstract artwork graced the walls. It looked more like a living room than a conference room. “Would you like something to drink?” Debbie asked.

  “No, thank you,” Alexa replied. “I’m fine.”

  “Well, I’m going to grab a cup of coffee. I’ll be right back.”

  When Debbie left the room, Alexa took the opportunity to inspect the vibrant artwork. It reminded her of Lydia’s house, bold and colorful. The canvases were all originals, signed by various artists. She wished she could paint like this or carve awe-inspiring statues like Lydia, but she didn’t have a creative bone in her body. She’d just have to be satisfied with looking.

  She had her back to the door when she heard a voice behind her say, “You’re hired.”

  She turned around, bewildered, thinking this must be some sort of joke. How could she be hired when she hadn’t even had an interview? She was smiling, but when she saw the owner of the voice, her jaw dropped in amazement. He was the last person she’d expected to see here – or anywhere else. “Tristan!”

  “Hello, Alexa.”

  He said her name with a mixture of hope and regret. She took a step back, in an attempt to calm the thunderous palpitations of her heart. For so many months, she’d wondered about him. She’d dreamed about him. She’d cried over him. And now, he was here in the flesh, staring into her soul with those mysterious eyes that had been her undoing.

  He had that same cocoa-brown complexion that she remembered. And those same full lips that had kissed her senseless. But his hair was different. Gone were the trademark Rexford braids. His hair was cropped close in a low fade haircut. And he had a goatee now. He looked good. Real good. Then she noticed a long scar dominating the left side of his face. She approached him and tentatively touched his cheek, slowly letting her fingers roam the entire length of the scar. It
was a powerful mark. It made him look dangerous and forbidden. Curiosity quickly took the place of shock. “What happened to you?”

  Tristan welcomed the feel of her hand on his cheek. Her touch was tender, like a lover’s caress. She wasn’t a doctor examining the scar of a patient. She was a woman, curiously exploring the contours of his face. She’d reacted to his scar a hell of a lot better than he’d expected. She didn’t flinch from him. She didn’t stare at him with pity. She didn’t turn away in disgust. Her shock was not one of horror, but one of genuine surprise and concern. He could see it reflected in her dark irises.

  She looked good in her tailored navy suit and stiletto heels. Her long, wavy hair made her look even more exotic than he’d remembered. He wanted to pull her into his arms and taste the warmth of her sweet mouth against his. He’d missed her more than life itself. But first, he had to set the record straight. She deserved an answer to her question. When she asked, what happened? He didn’t know whether she was referring to his face or his six-month long absence. It didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned the two events were inextricably related.

  “I had an accident,” he told her.

  “What kind of accident?”

  The worst kind.

  “I was involved in a knife fight. Well, it was more like a knife attack, since I was the one without a weapon. It was the day I was supposed to meet you for dinner.” He saw a look of sadness invade her features. He could tell she was still crushed over his disappearance. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but he didn’t think she’d welcome his affections right now. It was better to tell her the full story. He pointed toward one of the leather sofas. “Please, sit down.”

  He expected a fight, but surprisingly, he got none. Quietly, she took a seat in the middle of the sofa. Was Alexa still the same feisty virago? Or had time changed her? He longed for her acceptance and understanding, but he still wanted the tough lady he fell in love with. He needed her strength. He sat beside her. “Lou invited me to his cousin’s house in South Dallas,” he began. “Some local thugs bum rushed us. Lou’s cousin owed them some money, so they shot him – ”