He illegally parked next to a hydrant and called the store on his cell. Dakota picked up on the second ring.
“Thank God it’s you,” he said. “I was about to call the police.”
“It’s Julian,” he heard her say, her voice muffled, presumably from her hand over the mouthpiece.
A moment later, “Julian?”
He smiled and leaned back. He loved the sound of Vivienne’s voice.
Julian knew that Viv vacillated between thinking he was gay, straight or bi. The truth was Julian didn’t like labels. He considered himself a citizen of the world, and as such, he took advantage of and sampled from all of the world’s great feasts. Since meeting Viv though, he’d been interested in just one dish. And for a while a few weeks ago, he’d been sure that it was all his for the savoring. But Viv had been preoccupied lately. She hadn’t been out to the beach house since that night she’d showed up and begged to come in.
Now it was Julian’s turn to beg. And he wasn’t too proud to do it.
“Yes, love. Open the door.”
“The door. You’re outside? The shop?”
Even as she said the words, he saw additional lights flicker on. He locked the car and met her at the door.
“What are you doing here?”
“When I couldn’t reach you at home I thought I’d try the store.”
Viv clicked off the cordless she held. “Is something wrong?”
He snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her close to the erection that already throbbed in his slacks. “Yes,” he said as he dipped his head to nuzzle her neck. “I’ve missed you.”
Sleep proved an elusive partner that night. Lance instead paced the floor of his bedroom, of the balcony, of his kitchen and living room. At this rate, he’d wear a path in the carpeting. He finally gave up, pulled on some sweats and grabbed the keys to the Jag. He drove fast and furious, letting the speed and the feel of the open road on the dark night soothe his splintered soul.
He’d definitely inherited that Heart gene. Something about driving fast was liberating, mind-clearing. And right now, his mind was keyed into one fact: He had a child, a son. Right here in Newport News.
Every thought returned to that.
Was this how his grandfather felt when he first found out about Bev, Lance’s mother? Did a euphoria rush through him even while the ramifications ran on a parallel track? Did he want to pass out cigars and shout to the rooftops the way Lance did right now? Or, more likely, did practical matters get in the way? Practical matters like repercussions and recriminations.
He didn’t have an answer and the drive didn’t provide one. The open road always seemed like it held all the possibilities; all the questions about tomorrows were held just beyond the next bend or signpost.
But he did know this: Gayla would have to let him into his son’s life.
Whatever fantasies Julian had concocted withered when he saw the inside of the shop. Dakota and two other salesclerks were all present.
“What’s going on?”
“Julian, we’re pretty busy,” Viv said. “We’re getting ready for an event.”
“I’ve missed you.” Unfortunately, he could tell Viv couldn’t say the same. She hadn’t given him a moment’s thought. Her expression said it all. “I don’t like being ignored, Vivienne.”
“I’m not ignoring you, Julian. I’ve been distracted. You know how I get.”
He pouted and ran a finger along her arm. “When will you make it up to me?”
“Soon,” she promised.
Julian patted her behind. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Viv pushed him away. “Don’t do that.”
A hard look crossed his face. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.
“You all right, Viv?” Dakota called.
“I’m fine,” she answered even as she struggled against him. “Julian, what are you doing?”
“Just reminding you that I don’t like being trifled with.” He reached for and squeezed a breast.
“Stop it.”
A moment later, the crack of a slap reverberated through the store.
18
“I’ve got a bad case of baby mama drama.”
Cole lifted an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?” This was the last time he and Lance would get a chance to talk before he left for Bahia. The last thing he had time for was one of Lance’s jokes.
“I just found out I have a kid.”
Cole stopped in the middle of his packing. Most of his things were already en route to Brazil. He’d check one bag filled with incidentals.
“This isn’t the time for games, Lance. I’m already doing eight things right now.”
“This isn’t a joke, Cole. I just found out I have a son. His name is . . .”
Cole lifted a hand. “I thought you were so careful, so diligent about protection.”
“A man ain’t made of stone, Cole.”
Both of Cole’s eyebrows arched at that. “And you’re a country-and-western singer now.”
“Huh?”
Cole shook his head. “Never mind. Just tell me you’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking. I haven’t had any sleep in two days. I don’t know what to do.”
Cole tossed a box of blank diskettes in his bag. “Well, for once, Lance, you’re going to have to be the grown-up.”
“I’m not a child, Cole.”
“No. You just behave like one sometimes. You are a grown man.” He clapped him on the back as he passed by. “That means you have to deal with your grown-up problems. Frankly, I’m surprised you just have one child out there. Given this family’s track record, at twenty-eight, you should have at least three or four running around. I’ve yet to meet all the half brothers and sisters I supposedly have.”
The lecture came because it was expected, but Cole’s heart really wasn’t in it. His mind was on Sonja and what they’d tacitly agreed to. She was right, marriages shouldn’t whimper out of existence. The least they could do was rouse a little passion about it. But being civil had its advantages. He knew Sonja wouldn’t strip the house while he was away. She’d probably buy one of her own and insist he keep this one, the house he’d owned for years before they’d married.
Maybe he’d buy her a present before he left, something to remember him by.
“That’s why I’ve always been so careful,” Lance said. “I didn’t want the next generation of Hearts to live down to the standards of the previous ones. And, for the record, I’m very responsible when it comes to my women,” Lance said.
“You weren’t at least once.”
“You’re not being very sensitive here.”
“Do I look like Dr. Phil or Oprah?”
Lance ran a hand over his hair. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
“You’ve been at the dance a long time, Lance. Now it’s time to pay the band.”
“You’re just Mr. Cliché tonight.”
Cole stopped in the middle of reaching for a cardigan. “Sonja and I are separating.”
Lance’s mouth dropped open. “Get out.”
He opened his hands. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Are you serious?”
Cole nodded. “This trip is going to be the start of it. So your drama is going to have to remain yours. I have my own to deal with.”
“If your marriage is in trouble, why are you going to Brazil? Your priority should be here, with Sonja.”
For a moment, Cole didn’t respond. Then, “You make a lot of sense sometimes.”
He dropped the bag on a chair and motioned for Lance to follow him. In the family room, Cole mixed a couple of drinks, passed one to Lance and settled in a chair. Lance straddled a barstool.
After that last night with Sonja, when they’d fallen asleep cuddled together, the picture of a perfect marriage, he’d spent a lot of time thinking about this. And he’d finally figured it out.
“Bahia calls to me,” he said. “There’s something or s
omeone there and waiting for me. I don’t know who or what it is. I just know I’m supposed to go.”
“You’ve said that before.”
Cole shook his head. “But it’s more now. The history of the place is one thing. Did you know more enslaved Africans were brought there than to the United States? The Afro-Brazilian connection is one thing. But there’s more. It may seem like I’m running away from home, but in a lot of ways, I feel like I’m going home. Running to a place I should have been a long time ago. I won’t know until I get there if it’s a physical place or a mindset. Jack and I . . .”
Lance’s face split into a grin. “Safari Jack? The one Sonja’s been talking about?”
Cole laughed out loud and the sound startled him. It had been a long time since he’d laughed. “Yes, Lance. That Jack. As I was saying, we’re all done with the financing portion. The final investor was vetted and came onboard last week.”
“But you and Sonja . . .”
“There’s no room for weakness in what I do, Lance.”
“Yeah, you’ve always been a hard-ass, especially when it came to me.”
“You turned out all right. Except for a few bumps and bruises along the way.”
“And now you’re bumped and bruised.”
Cole shrugged. “I’ll get over it.”
“This does not sound like you.”
Cole knocked off the remainder of his drink and went to mix another. “Marriage isn’t for everyone. Sonja and I”—he looked over his shoulder at Lance—“we needed each other at the time. We’ve grown apart.”
“I feel like my parents are getting divorced.”
“We’re not that old.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean, Lance. And this isn’t a divorce. It’s a separation.”
“I thought if anyone could make it, you two could. I’m sorry, Cole.”
The sincerity in Lance’s voice made Cole look up. “I am, too.”
“I cannot believe he just walked up in here and did that.”
Dakota and Viv were still at Guilty Pleasures. The topic was still Julian who’d left the store only after Viv slapped him. He’d called her a nasty name then stormed out, knocking over two displays in the process.
“I don’t appreciate being manhandled. I don’t know what got into him.”
“Maybe he’s in love.”
“Well, he can take that kind of love someplace else. I’m not interested.”
“Maybe he was on something. Some drugs make people do weird things.”
Viv shook her head. “Not Julian. He values money too much to blow it on coke.” Plus, Julian wasn’t the drug type. He had an image to live up to and that didn’t include getting off focus.
But something definitely was up with him. To be fair, she had used him, mostly to assuage her early guilt about Lance, but that was the agreement she and Julian had. Well, it was the agreement she’d made with herself about him. Maybe Julian had seen it all as something more.
Making a mental tick on her to-do list, she figured she’d give him some time to cool off, then she’d go find out what, exactly, his problem was. In the meantime, she had a real problem on her hands. Virginia Heart and her sexy grandson, Lance.
Dakota pulled out the decorations. “Are we going to have enough time between closing and the party to get everything ready?”
The pajama party sale they’d have at the store was this weekend and everything was rolling along according to the plan. Invitations had been sent, fliers were put in the bag with every purchase and ads had been placed in a couple of key publications.
“I’ve timed it out,” Viv said. “With everyone here, it’ll go really fast. The caterer will bring food at six-thirty. Are the treat bags in there?”
“Yep.” Dakota tossed a flat box toward Viv. “That potpourri will work well in there. Aren’t we giving away too much stuff ?”
“Nope. There’s nothing like a freebie to make a repeat customer feel special and a new customer want to come back. Besides, all they’re really getting is the eye mask and the potpourri, which includes a twenty percent off coupon on the next visit and a twenty-five percenter on the following visit. The fall merchandise—at full price—will be out then.”
“You’re devious.”
Viv tapped her forehead. “I’m smart.”
Today the UPS driver had delivered the favors Viv had ordered just as soon as they’d settled on a theme. Each customer attending the pajama party would get a soothing gel-filled eye mask as a treat. They’d make up door prizes from store merchandise.
A knock on the stockroom door was followed by Cassandra, one of the clerks, popping in. “Viv, there’s a vendor here to see you. Lucia Heart Allen.”
Dakota looked at Viv. “Heart? You think she’s related to him?”
“Let’s find out.” Then, louder, “Send her on back.”
A moment later, a tiny dynamo came into the stockroom toting a rolling suitcase behind her. “Hi there.”
Viv got up to greet Lucia. The two women hugged. Dakota waved. After the greetings were done and iced tea offered, Lucia settled on a chair Viv indicated. In the way women do before getting down to business, they chitchatted for a few minutes. Then, when Viv couldn’t wait another moment, “I have a question to ask you.”
“Shoot.”
“By any chance are you related to Lance Heart Smith?”
Lucia sighed. “Oh, dear. Has Lance managed to break your heart?” She reached out to Viv. “Try not to be too hard on him. He has a tendency to just sort of collect women. I don’t think he even tries.”
“So you are related,” Dakota said.
“He’s my cousin,” Lucia said.
“It figures.”
Lucia glanced between the two women. “What’s going on?”
“Virginia Heart is your grandmother, too?”
“God, no. That witch . . . Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Virginia is, I think it works out to be a great-aunt or some such thing. You’ve had the, er, pleasure of meeting her?”
Viv closed her eyes. “It’s been an interesting few days.”
“Well, don’t let her scare you. I wish I could say her bark is worse than her bite.” Lucia scrunched up her face. “But that’s not the case. What she needs is a man to occupy her time.”
Dakota grinned. “You know, I was just telling Viv the very same thing.”
Vivienne sent a quelling look in her associate’s direction.
“I’m sure you didn’t stop in for this conversation, Lucia. What’s going on?”
Lucia rolled the small suitcase around, hefted it onto a table and unzipped the bag. “You said you wanted some things for the pajama party. It sure sounds like a lot of fun. I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it.”
“We were just unpacking some stock for the event. Do you have some new designs?”
“Sure do.” Lucia pulled out several pieces of jewelry as well as a gaily wrapped medium-size box and two smaller boxes. “I have some bad news though.”
“There seems to be an epidemic of that going on,” Vivienne muttered. “What’s the bad news?”
Lucia smiled. “Well, it’s not really bad news. Just maybe inconvenient for my customers, but wonderful for me.”
Dakota tapped Viv. “Look at that smile. It’s a man, isn’t it?”
When Lucia nodded, Dakota grinned and gave her a high-five. “You go, sister-friend. Tell us about him.”
“Dakota . . .”
“Shush,” the associate told Viv. “I’m not getting any so the least you can do is let me have a vicarious thrill.”
Lucia chuckled. “You’re a mess, Dakota. And there is a man out there for you.”
The tall woman harrumphed. “Well, if he is, he’s yet to make an appearance.”
Smiling, Lucia pulled more pieces from the case. “Well, my David is in Atlanta. And I’m going to be a mom.”
Two sets of eyes immediately zoomed in on her sto
mach.
“No, not that way,” the jewelry artist clarified. “David has three kids, two girls, Allie and Karenna, and a son, D.J., David Jr.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of responsibility all of a sudden,” Dakota said.
“I love them all to pieces,” Lucia said. “And I can’t wait to be a wife and mom.”
“No mommyhood for me,” Viv said on a shudder. “Just the thought of it creeps me out.”
“You’ll think otherwise when it’s with someone you care about,” Lucia predicted.
Dakota shook her head. “Not that one. She’s been playing that record for so long, I actually believe her. She’s afraid . . .”
Viv glanced at Dakota, who ignored the warning.
“. . . that being a mom will mess up her figure and her social life.”
Viv cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Where’d you and David meet?”
“In the Bahamas.”
Dakota grinned. “How old is he? Don’t tell me you pulled a Stella.”
Lucia did laugh out loud at that. “Not quite. I went for a little Island magic, to get away from the groove, but it met me there, and I found my heart’s desire instead.”
“Good for you,” Dakota said. The fleeting look she sent Viv’s way was part pity, part understanding. “Good for you, Lucia.”
“I’ll be moving to Atlanta after the wedding. But I’m setting up some things with my regulars and I’m developing a catalog.”
That caught Viv’s attention. “How are you doing it?”
“Everything will be on my Web site and people can . . .”
“No, I meant the catalog,” Viv clarified.
“Oh, that. I have a friend who creates annual reports and ad copy for a living, so he’s going to hook me up.”
Viv and Dakota shared a meaningful glance.
“Is this friend someone who’d maybe put in a bid for a project for the store?”
Lucia shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” She reached into her backpack purse and rooted around for a bit. “I have his card in here somewhere.”
Dakota gave Viv the thumbs-up sign.
After showing them the jewelry she was offering on consignment, and leaving out the pieces that would be on display and for sale in the store, Lucia picked up the gaily wrapped package. “This is for the pajama party,” she said. “You can do what you want with it. Door prize or raffle or whatever. It’s a donation from me. The retail value is taped to a card at the bottom for you. And for whoever gets it, there’s a card in the box, of course.”
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