Wow, he was really furious. Alana didn’t react to his harsh words, but he showed a slight regret for his remark as he answered her question. “No, I wasn’t driving when it happened. It was stolen. It was being stored in my dad’s garage in Chicago and somebody decided that they needed it,” he told her in a much calmer voice. “To make a stupid story short, the little jerk was racing it and ended up in a three-way collision. He barely escaped with his life and if he’d been driving anything else he’d have ended up a bloody smear on the road. But all that notwithstanding, I want to know if you can fix it.”
“Of course I can,” she said at once. “I have the best crew in the south and we can get it back to its original condition in no time at all. But how did it get here? It sounds as though the accident was in Chicago.”
Roland was walking around the wreckage, looking lost. He was obviously not listening to a word that Alana was saying. “The insurance company totaled it out. The investigator said it was hopeless. Are you sure you can do something with it?”
He looked so forlorn that Alana went to his side and took his hand, squeezing it to get his attention. “Roland, dear heart, I promise you that this car can and will be restored to all its former beauty. It’ll take a few weeks, but I won’t let you down, truly I won’t.”
She finally penetrated his fog and he gave her a weak smile. “You probably think I’m a big fool for acting like this, but this was my granddad’s ride. I love it almost as much as I loved him. That’s why I had it hauled down here, because I saw what you did to Lucas’s old Range Rover. If you could make that scrap heap look brand-new I figured there might be a chance for Black Beauty.”
“Black Beauty?”
His finely planed cheekbones reddened as he admitted that his car was indeed named as such.
“People who love their cars always name them,” Alana assured him. “My crew will work wonders with your baby, so rid your mind of all concern. I appreciate your trust in me and Custom Classics and we will not let you down. Come inside and let me introduce you to the people who’ll be restoring Beauty. Everything’s going to be fine,” she added in a soothing voice.
Roland had always loved the sound of Alana’s voice and he trusted her skills implicitly. But right now, more than anything else, he loved the feel of her hand in his because she hadn’t let go of him and he saw no reason to change that.
* * *
Roland was totally impressed with Custom Classics, and even more impressed with its owner. The place was immaculately clean, with polished windows and floors and not a speck of dust or clutter anywhere. The retail area of the showroom was neatly organized and labeled for easy shopping; the lounge area for customers was furnished with comfortable chairs, a flat-screen TV, a coffee bar and vending machines. Everything exceeded expectations for an automotive facility; there was nothing that wasn’t up-to-date and state-of-the-art in the building.
Even her staff was top-of-the-line. He met the mechanics, a tall redhead named Rachel, a middle-aged man named Lorenzo and a young woman who looked like a runway model without the makeup and ridiculous heels. Her name was Tasha and she was as business-minded as she was gorgeous.
He was also properly introduced to Tollie, who gave him an open, inquisitive smile that showed curiosity but no flirtation, which was a refreshing change of pace for him.
By the time he’d met all the men and women who worked in the different areas, from body work to interiors to specialty painting, he was sure that if anyone could reassemble his dream car, it was the Custom Classics team of experts. He said as much to Alana as they walked back to her office.
“I’m actually feeling much better now. I’ve been in an incredible funk since it happened. It was just out of the blue, completely unexpected. I know it sounds ridiculous, but when I got the call about Black Beauty it was like hearing that someone had died. It was a tragedy, even though that’s a really extreme word for a car wreck. I thanked God that nobody was killed or seriously injured, but it was still like the worst thing that ever happened to me. I’m embarrassed to be telling you all this stuff, but the truth is the light,” he said quietly.
Alana invited him to sit down on the sofa and she sat next to him, putting her hand over his. Her next words surprised him.
“You really loved your grandfather, didn’t you? And that car was a part of him, a symbol of everything he meant to you. Tell me about him.”
Roland’s eyes lit up as he began regaling Alana with stories about the man who was such a huge part of his life. Talking to her was an incredibly cathartic experience, primarily because she was an active and attentive listener. But it was also because this was what he’d wanted, a chance to really be with her, get to know her. It would have been better if he hadn’t been rambling on like a loser dude in a chick flick, emoting all over the place about a damned car, of all things. It was time to regroup and quick.
“Thanks for listening to me, Alana, I appreciate it. And I really appreciate you and your crew handling my car. Let me take you to dinner,” he said. “It’s the least I can do.”
Alana didn’t hesitate in giving him an answer, although it wasn’t the one he wanted to hear. “I’d love to, Roland, but this is take-out night. Adrienne is still staying with me and I don’t know if you’ve had much experience with pregnant women, but her mouth is set for barbecue and it wouldn’t be safe for me to thwart her hormonal taste buds.”
“Some other time, then,” he said with a decidedly cool tone of voice. Okay, so she was shutting him down again. He rose and was about to leave when she surprised him again.
“If you don’t mind hanging out with me and Adrienne, how about coming over to my place for dinner? You can take me out for an expensive meal some other time,” she added teasingly.
Pow, just like that, there she was—the funny, outgoing woman he hadn’t seen since the wedding. She walked him to the door and she gave him directions to her house.
Roland left Custom Classics feeling much better than when he’d arrived. Black Beauty was in good hands and he was finally making a move in the right direction with Alana. Things were looking up.
* * *
A few hours later, Adrienne was finishing setting three places on the dining room table when the doorbell rang. She smiled and went to answer it. It had to be Roland, since she’d sent Alana out on an errand. It was Roland, looking good and smelling very nice. He was bearing gifts, too: a bouquet of flowers and two bottles of wine, one alcohol-free just for her.
“How nice! Please come in and have a seat. Alana will be right back. Let me take those for you,” she said as she held out her hands for his gifts. “You can put your jacket in the closet right there,” she added.
After stowing his jacket, Roland looked around Alana’s living room. It was elegant and stylish, looking like something that came out of a fancy magazine.
The colors were what really caught his attention; Alana or whoever had decorated the room had a very artistic eye. Most of the colors in the room came from the paintings that were cleverly arranged on the walls. There was a fireplace wall with a glass mantel that also displayed photographs and he went over to examine them.
He recognized them as family pictures, showing Alana’s sisters and her parents over the years. He was smiling at a picture of a much younger Alana combing Ava’s hair when he noticed a striking shot of Alana and a man who was obviously in love with her. They were in love with each other, judging by the glowing smiles on their faces and the unmistakable look of love in their eyes.
“That’s Alana and Samson, her husband,” Adrienne said softly. She’d come back into the room as quietly as a cat. Her soft voice might have startled him, had he not been studying the portrait so carefully. “She always said the day she met him was the best day of her life.” She paused a moment and looked at the picture before adding, “The worst day of her life was the day he died.
”
Roland finally understood what people meant when they said they felt like they’d been hit by a sledgehammer. It was like all the wind had been knocked out of his body for a few seconds. He was trying to think of something to say, but words failed him. What was the proper protocol when someone gave you information like that? Luckily, Adrienne kept talking.
“He was her college sweetheart. They ran off and got married in front of a justice of the peace the day after she graduated. Mama and Daddy were so mad,” she laughed. “But they were very happy together. They did everything together, even their business. Custom Classics was Sam’s dream and she worked with him to make it come true. For a long time I didn’t think she’d get over the pain of losing him.”
Clearing his throat, Roland tried to level the conversational playing field. “Sorry to hear about her loss. I can see that she’s a very strong lady,” he mumbled.
“Strong, but not invincible. Everyone needs someone in their life, that special someone who loves them and cares for them, someone who holds them tight at the end of a long day. Sissie is one of the strongest women I know, but it’s not everything...” Adrienne’s voice trailed off and she raised both her hands in a gesture of helplessness.
After a moment of silence, Roland asked, “Where did she get all these paintings? She must really like art.”
“She loves it. And to answer your question, Alana painted all of these. She’s a very talented artist, as you can see. She majored in art. Aren’t they beautiful?”
“That doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he mumbled as he began to examine a nearby landscape more carefully. Now that he understood that the art was Alana’s creation, the decor of the room made even more sense.
Furnished mainly in mid-century modern, she’d made it eclectic enough so that it didn’t look pretentious. The long sofa was oyster-white, along with the matching chaise. There were two comfortable-looking chairs in a rich turquoise color, and colorful throw pillows made the colors in the room seem to surround the space with life and light.
The walls were a soft taupe with a gray base and it served as a perfect backdrop for the brilliant colors of the pictures. The dark hardwood floors gleamed and wicker baskets topped with glass served as end tables. The wicker and the big green plants positioned around the room made it even more vibrant.
Roland couldn’t remember being in a room that he liked as well as this one, and he normally paid very little attention to things like decorating. This place was special, though, as special as the woman who put it all together.
Alana came in through the kitchen just then, calling out to Adrienne. “I got your prenatal vitamins, but the pharmacist said you can’t get the prescription filled yet because it’s too early. He was really snippy about it, too,” she said. She’d reached the living room by then, still talking while trying to take her coat off with one hand as she shifted her shoulder bag and the pharmacy bag in the other. She stopped walking and her eyes widened once she realized that Roland was standing in her living room.
“Oh, you’re here,” she said, looking adorably flustered.
He moved to her side where he quickly helped with the coat and gallantly held her bag. “I just got here. Adrienne was showing me your artwork. You are some kind of artist, Alana. I’ve never seen anything like these outside of a gallery or a museum,” he told her as he returned the bag to her and went to the closet to hang up her coat.
“Thank you, Roland. That’s very nice of you. Sorry I was late, but my nephew needs his nourishment, or whatever you call vitamins.” She tossed the pharmacy bag to Adrienne who squeaked as she made a fumbling catch.
“You still catch like a girl,” Alana teased her.
“And you still throw like a man, Sissie. You don’t know your own strength.”
Roland grinned. “This sounds like being at home with my sisters. Why do you call her Sissie?”
Adrienne threw her arms around Alana and gave her a big hug. “Because she’s my big sister and I couldn’t manage Alana or sister when I was a baby. So she’s my Sissie.”
“Roland, if you ever call me that I will draw flowers all over your head with a permanent marker. This is your only warning. You guys hungry? I’m starving so let’s sit down,” she said as she headed for the kitchen to begin serving.
After Adrienne showed him where he could wash his hands, he joined the two ladies in the dining room. Alana thanked him sweetly for the flowers before they said grace. “Tulips are my very favorite ones,” she said. “I love the way they smell.”
“I didn’t think they had a smell,” Roland said with a quirk of his brow.
“Take a whiff and see.”
He took her advice and inhaled the scent of the flowers, which Adrienne had arranged in a vase. A light, fresh fragrance caressed his nose. “Very nice.” He looked at Alana, looking just as fresh and beautiful as the flowers smelled. “Very, very nice.”
Chapter 4
“Thanks again for dinner, Alana.”
After a very good meal of takeout from Sweet Tea & 3 Sides, the best rib joint in the city, Adrienne had given in to her now-typical need for a nap after most meals and gone to bed. Roland, gentleman that he was, helped Alana clean up the kitchen and put everything in order, although she told him it wasn’t necessary.
“Are you like those VanBuren men who won’t let a lady lift a finger? Because it’s not a deal-breaker, I assure you. Although I am impressed with your skills,” Alana told him.
They were relaxing in the living room with a fire going and the sound of Alabama Shakes playing. Roland took a sip of wine before answering her.
“It’s kinda complicated,” he said slowly. “I’m the oldest of seven, you know, and after my father—my mother’s first husband—disappeared, I was in charge of a horde of screaming little girls. My mother had to work two jobs, and sometimes three, to keep a roof over our heads, so I had to keep order in the house when she wasn’t at home. I was the protective big brother and treated them like little ladies, which is how my mother wanted it, of course. And how I wanted it because they were my little sisters and I would have moved heaven and earth to keep them safe. I didn’t want anyone looking at them cross-eyed, you know? Chicago is a rough place no matter what part of town you’re in and after my father abandoned us, we had to move to a fairly undesirable area, so my role changed fast.
“I had to help them get ready for school, give them breakfast, walk them to school, pick them up afterwards and keep them from killing each other when we got home. Make sure they did their homework, fix dinner and I had to keep the house clean. My mother had enough on her plate so I had to pitch in,” he said with a shrug.
Alana was awed by his story. “Wow, that’s a lot of responsibility for you at a really young age. Your mother must be so proud of you. I’m proud of you and I didn’t even know you back then,” she said with sincerity warming her voice. She drank a little more wine as she leaned into the big pillows behind her. She rubbed the rim of her wineglass across her bottom lip in an unconsciously sexy move. “May I ask what happened to your father? I realize it’s really personal and I have no right to ask, so if you don’t want to talk about it, that is fine,” she murmured.
Roland made a gesture to indicate that it was of no importance. “You can ask my anything you want, Alana. I have nothing to hide from you. My birth father wasn’t a bad guy, I guess, just irresponsible, not ready to have so many children, immature, whatever label you want to put on him. He didn’t come home from work one day and that was it. We had a nice house in the ’burbs, my mother was a teacher and he was an executive with a real estate company. We found out later that he’d been having an affair with a woman he worked with and they ran off together. He’d cleaned out the bank accounts and they headed to the west coast. They’d had a kid together, too, if you can believe that,” he said, shaking his head with obvio
us scorn.
“That must have been extremely hard on your mother. Of course it was hard for all of you, but your mother must have been crushed.”
“She was, but she couldn’t afford to give in to it. That’s what she used to tell me,” he said. “At first I used to hear her crying every night after we went to bed and I wanted to hunt him down and kill him with my bare hands. She had to keep it together for us, of course, and she just buckled down and worked tirelessly so that we would have everything we needed. I wanted to get a job, but it was more important that I be there for the girls.
“In order to keep them focused I had to assign chores to each one of them and make them realize that we all had a role to play in the family. That’s why I told you it’s complicated; it would have been nice to be able to be the doting big brother and wait on the girls hand and foot like the VanBuren men, but we weren’t in that position, not anymore.”
Alana couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the family. Her heart ached for all the pain his mother had gone through and all the confusion and anger he must have felt. “Your mother seems really happy now,” she said.
Roland’s face relaxed into a huge smile. “Man, is she ever. It’s ironic, but that man leaving was the best thing that could have ever happened to her. If Duane Johnson hadn’t taken off, she never would have met Renard Casey. She had a part-time job at night working for a cleaning company and she met Renard when she was cleaning his offices. He took one look at her and it was all over for him. He wined her, dined her, won over her wild children and the next thing you know we were back in the ’burbs in a much bigger house, she was pregnant with my baby brother and we all lived happily ever after. He adopted us, which is why my name is Casey and not Johnson,” he added.
“That’s a beautiful ending for a beautiful lady,” Alana said with a smile. Glendora Casey was indeed a lovely woman and even though she hadn’t spent a lot of time with his parents, Renard Casey had the unmistakable look of a man who was deeply in love with his family, especially his wife. “I love that story, I really do. Do you ever see your birth father?”
Let Me Hold You Page 4