Love's Battle (True Blue Trilogy)

by Angela Hayes

  Chapter 15

  “Float Like A Butterfly, Sting Like A Bee”*

  Love

  Housed in a building of red brick and glass, overlooking the brackish waters of the Inner Harbor, DeAngelo Advertising has been in business since its founding sixty-two years earlier. At the tender ages of twenty-two and twenty, respectively, Italian businessmen Carmine and Antonio DeAngelo built their legacy from the ground up. It had been touch and go for awhile and just when circumstances were at their grimmest, fate intervened. Carmine and Chanton met through a mutual acquaintance and the rest as they say is history.

  Chanton had begun her modeling career as a small child. During a clash of ideals with her manager, the model threw all caution to the wind and signed a two year contract with the advertising company. Starting with a small time perfume ad the business had grown by leaps and bounds over the years from a small potatoes company to one of the most influential agencies on the East Coast. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did. Chanton’s signing put the DeAngelo’s on the map and brought her face to North America. By the end of the second year Carmine and Chanton were millionaires and planning a secret spring wedding.

  Rumor had it a West Coast branch was in the works and scheduled to be opened within the next year or two.

  Stepping through the revolving doors and into the unknown my heart rate accelerated. Fear that I would be called out had me looking over my shoulders as I waited on the elevator. Any minute now, I was sure an unknown person was going to jump out and point their accusing finger at me screaming, “She’s the one you want, she crashed the wedding!” Acknowledging it for what it was I blamed all of my anxiety on a guilty conscience and stepped into the elevator, alone.

  Nervously I switched my tote from one shoulder to the next. Smoothing down the skirt of my plum split sleeve kimono dress I shifted my weight back and forth from one canary yellow Oscar de la Renta wedge with matching jewel embellishments to the other. The closer I came to the seventh floor, the more agitated I became.

  Banking down the need to pace in the small space I settled for bouncing on my toes and rolling my shoulders like a boxer preparing for an upcoming match. Shaking off the anxiety I took a calming breath that had me successful effecting an air of serenity about myself. Poised on the outside, I was a basket case inside.

  “Good afternoon. Welcome to DeAngelo Advertising.” The secretary smiled politely.

  “Thank you. I have a two o’clock with Mr. Danton DeAngelo. Love Howard from the Art and Antiquities Museum.”

  “Please have a seat Ms. Howard; I’ll let him know you’re here.” Orders given the secretary excused herself, stack of papers in hand.

  Sitting in one of the lushly appointed chairs I busied myself with my Blackberry. Eyes downcast, ankles crossed, back straight, correct posture had been drilled into me from birth; every one of them. Giving in to the need to fidget I tapped the small pen on the blank screen. The secretary’s distinctive olive skin and dark locks that I recognized immediately pegged her as a member of the DeAngelo family tree. Lord, they were a prolific bunch. She could be in there this very minute ratting me out. I held my breath waiting for the confrontation that had to be coming. When it didn’t I slowly let the breath out, pasting a smile on my face when she returned, holding open the door to Danton’s inner layer.

  “Mr. DeAngelo will see you now.”

  Chapter 16

  “Down Goes Frazier”*

  Danton

  “That’s right. Okay. I’ve got a client coming in. I’ll get back to you.” Replacing the receiver I stood, buttoning my jacket one handed.

  “Art and Antiquities Museum.” My cousin, Sophie, announced as a petite blonde stepped into my office behind her.

  All rational train of thought left the station when I saw just exactly who it was who representing the Art and Antiquities Museum. I couldn’t believe my eyes; standing in front of me like a modern day Grecian goddess was the woman I’d practically begun to go mad over, green and blue eyes and all.

  “You!” I accused, blaming my rather pathetic lack of speech on the impact of the shock that had shaken me right down to my toes.

  “Love Howard.”

  The wedding crasher smiled, she actually smiled as she held out her hand. Love, I thought, how ironic. “Danton DeAngelo.” I answered reflectively, thanks to the years of etiquette classes my mother forced me to attend. A frisson of energy shot through my veins as I took her hand in mine.

  For an instant the world around us contracted, enveloping us in a fog. It was like in the church, there was only the two of us and nothing else mattered.

  When the fog lifted Love was smiling at me. “I know, we’ve met.”

  Deftly, without breaking contact, she used her left hand to slide a bloated file folder onto my desk.

  Catching that small movement was enough to have me dropping her hand like a hot poker. “You!” I began again, incensed as she calmly took an un-offered seat, her back ramrod straight, ankles crossed, hands in her lap. Her classic posture was like deja-vu and enough to have me reeling as I stood glowering at her from across my desk.

  “Yes it’s me.” She confessed. “I’m the one who put an end to your cousin’s fruitless wedding. You’ll be thanking me later; he was no good for her. She’s better off.”

  I’d be thanking her when Hell froze over.

  “And it was my sisters and I that you ran into last Saturday night at Rogers. Sorry about that, you took us by surprise.”

  I took her by surprise, she took me by surprise. The gall she must have to come here like this.

  “Now then. If you’ll take a seat, my neck is beginning to cramp from craning to look up at you. We can talk about why I’m here.”

  I could clearly hear what she was saying her mouth, painted to a glossy shine, was moving. Sweet sounds were coming from between her lips, traveling through the air to my ear where it made perfect sense. It was the connection from there where I faltered. I knew I was standing there like a dolt, my face frozen in a mask of incredulous astonishment, the only noise coming from my mouth a stumbling block of speech that I couldn’t get past.

  “I’d like you and your company to represent the museum in our upcoming revelation. To be fair, you will have to place a bid just like all the other agencies I’ve approached this past week and you will have to have to win the vote with the lowest quote. We’ll be deciding on a winner during our collective staff committee meeting.

  “The museum will begin taking bids beginning Monday and will have an answer for you in a few weeks. Inside the folder you should find all the information that you’ll need to make a decision. Including a voucher for a free visitors pass that will allow you to come and take a tour of our facility so you can get a better idea of what we have to offer.”

  Stunned I could only stand by as she picked up her flame red purse and stood to her excellent looking feet. She had some nerve coming here after the stunt she’d pulled, asking for my family to represent her interests.

  “You!” I growled a third time.

  Love laughed again, her mismatched eyes alight with tomfoolery. Leaning across my desk she laid a rose scented hand to my cheek, the floral scent frying what was left of my brain cells. “You’ve already said that. Come see me when that cat lets go of your tongue. I’ll be waiting.”

  Her eyes bored into mine. It looked as if she had more she wanted to say more but thought better of it. I was all ears since the cat in fact was busy playing with my tongue like it was a ball of yarn. Without another word she breezed out the door leaving me to do nothing but stare and listen as she spoke in soft tones to Sophie. In the quiet I recognized the ding of the elevator and the fact that she had made yet another escape.

  “Danton. Earth to Danton. Hello.” Sophie snapped her fingers in my face, denting the spell Love Howard had cast over me.

  “What?” I blinked, trying to focus.

  “Was that who I think it was?”

  “Who?”

  “The
woman?”

  “The woman, what?”

  Sophie snickered, obviously amused by my current deficiency of rational logic. Her alto tone a direct contest to Love’s clear soprano cleared away the last of the residual cobwebs that had blanketed my brain cells.

  “Um, yeah. That was her.”

  “Well?” My cousin asked expectantly. “What did she want?”

  I picked up the thick file Love had placed on my desk; let it fall back with a thud releasing a lingering wave of floral scent to permeate my office. “The impossible!”

  Chapter 17

  Grandma’s Attic

  Love

  I brushed the trickle of sweat from my eyes streaking grime across my forehead. The oppressive morning heat in the attic was no match for that of a comforting sauna. Being a Saturday I didn’t have to be at the museum, thank goodness for that. After I’d returned from my meeting with Danton- I claimed victory by the way- I had to right the mayhem that had occurred during my absence and rush to make my evening college class.

  Since Hope didn’t have any clients scheduled, we were helping Faith scour the contents of a plantation home in St. Mary’s county. I was so excited about what I would find in this veritable treasure trove that I’d blotted everything else out of my mind, including dishing the details on my face to face with Danton.

  I wiped at the dust coating what resembled a book of some sort. Blowing off what I could I waved the stale air clean. But not clean enough.

  “Aachkk.” I coughed, the majority of the scattering debris finding its way into my throat. “Aaaachkk.”

  “Achoo.” Hope followed with a sneeze as she opened a steamer trunk. “So… ah, achoo…. How did your meetings go this week?”

  Squinting I tried to make sense of the degraded embossed title. “You know. I sent you emails after everyone.” I clicked on my flashlight for a little extra help, squinting harder, tuning Hope out.

  “All but the last one. I figured you were waiting to talk about it in person.”

  I opened the cover to get a better look, the leather binding stiff with age. Since stepping foot under the attic’s eaves, my attention span had sharpened dramatically. Until unveiling the secret treasures of the past held my undivided attention.

  There were portraits wrapped in dust clothes, wood furniture covered with layers of soot, boxes filled with bric-a-bras just waiting to be opened. All of it in need of a good cleaning and a proper place in a museum where it could be put on display for the younger generations to enjoy. If I got my way, Art and Antiquities Museum would be doing just that. I squirmed around, my check book burning a hole in my pocket, the urge to buy something growing stronger the longer I stayed under the slanted roof space.

  “Yeah… I saw Danton.” I told them, distracted.

  Faith looked up from her position on the floor as she rooted through the old boxes of knick knacks.

  “You saw Danton!”

  “His father owns the ad company,” I replied distantly, absorbed in my task.

  That’s how it was for me; everything current took a back seat. It was bigger than my shoes obsession; it was a compulsion that fed my soul. Our souls.

  “Interesting!”

  “What? What’s interesting?” I asked Faith, tuning back in, having given up on the book.

  “You and Danton.” Hope supplied in bridled tones, offending by my lack of attention.

  “Ooh, that,” I laughed. “I totally blew his socks off. He didn’t know what hit him!”

  “Surprised him, did you?”

  “Yeah buddy. I walked in, said what I needed to say and walked back out. He’s probably still scratching his head. Here,” I handed the mysterious tome to Faith. “Look at this. I’m pretty sure it’s the family Bible. You can probably read it better than I can.”

  Hope took over the questioning now that I had sufficiently side tracked Faith in the tangled web of family genealogy that was her forte. “Did he say anything?”

  “Nothing coherent. He was speechless at my sight.” I fluttered my eyelashes, the effect lost among the sweat and grime. Scooting on my knees across the plank floor I peered into the trunk Hope was unenthusiastically sorting through. “Moths eat everything?”

  “Pretty much, but I think we can salvage a few things.”

  I elbowed Hope out of the way to paw through the heap of fabric in the trunk. “Oooh, look.” I gushed, digging deeper, coming up with a sheath of leather. Through out the past, each of us had found a particular niche in history that we excelled in. As I mentioned before, Faith’s was family trees, Hope’s was jewelry and gems, and mine was weaponry. With a reverent grip I pulled on the handle sticking out of the sheath, undressing the filigree sword. “Ah ha.”

  “Oooh,” Hope replied sarcastically. “Give me diamonds any day.”

  “Hush your mouth.” I chided, expertly pointing the swords at Hope’s neck. “Just look at how pretty she is.” Such exquisite detailing that I was sorry to return it to its scabbard. “Hey. Look in there and see if you can find a uniform. It could be Confederate or Union.”

  We missed being born during the Civil War by twenty years in our last life. As we grew up it had been too taboo a topic to be talked about. Until this life, details were fairly sketchy.

  “I’d say Confederate.” Faith murmured. “Most of the research I’ve done points to the majority of eastern Maryland having been in favor of the Confederacy, due impart to the large amount of crops produced. Plus, the owner mentioned something about the west wing having been rebuilt after a fire. I’m thinking it was a result of the war.”

  “Yep, Confederate.” Hope held up a battle scarred suit that brought tears to my eyes. “So when’s the next skirmish between you and Danton planned for?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged, moving on to another truck. I was hoping for a ball gown to match. I envisioned a pair of mannequins in full dress, Bible on the table between them in a recreated living room scene. “I’m hoping he won’t be able to resist the voucher I gave him for a free tour, but if he does…” I shrugged again. “I’ll think of something.”

  “And you’ve been doing such a great job of it so far.” Hope remarked flippantly, to which I stuck my tongue out at and regretted it instantly as it became a magnet for dust particles.

  “Yuck.” I spit. “You just need to relax a little more Hope. Life would be so much easier for you… BINGO!” I gently unfolded the many stained and wrinkled yards of eggshell silk and embroidered tulle. I couldn’t resist molding the dated fabric to my frame, holding the off the shoulder neckline and puffy sleeves in place. With a dreamy look I ran my hand over the faded rose embroidered overlay. Gathered into scallops at the hemline it was held in place with dainty bows allowing a row of sassy pleated ruffles to peek through the bottom. Twirling in a circle I turned a few steps of a waltz, enjoying the sound of the material swishing along the floor. It was perfect. As much as I adored the lightweight clothing of this century, I was saddened that so much of the feminine frill and flounce had been lost in the passing of years.

  I bounced on my toes, mindful of the low ceiling. “Oooh. I have to have ’em. I’m going to make a deal. First we need a senior staff vote. I make a motion.”

  “Second,” Faith motioned with the raise of her hand. Not bothering to look up from the book.

  “Uh, oh I guess, third.” Hope made it unanimous. Her blasé tone unable to discourage my joy.

  “Great.” I grinned before turning serious. “Hey, while we’re convened, I got a phone call and an email inviting us to host the ‘Pink Tie’ event during the first week of the Cherry Festival at the end of March. An upscale black tie auction and cocktails type thing. There’s room enough in the museum if I move the exhibits around, but I didn’t want to give a reply until I’d talked to you two first.”

  “The press would be great.” Faith agreed.

  “As long as you have enough money in your coffers to do it right, I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” Hope uncharacteristically appr
oved.

  “Agreed then?” I asked, wanting there to be no doubt.

  “Agreed.” My sisters answered in unison.

  “Great.” I grinned, back on cloud nine, running for the stairs.

  “Don’t forget the Bible!” Faith called after me as I set off in search of the owner.

  Chapter 18

  Not a Happy Camper

  Hope

  Shaking my head I watched Love scramble from the attic. She never changed. With each life she seemed to grow more asinine.

  I did my best to override the irritation that continually lingered in the back of my mind, tapping down the vile thoughts of covetousness that reared their ugly head in the face of Love’s flighty outlook on life. My younger sister, an easy target, always bore the brunt of my anger.

  Hard pressed to hang onto the thin threads my sanity, I did my best to turn the rancor that poisoned my system into something productive and heartfelt.

  “Do you have plans for tomorrow?” I asked Faith, reading over her shoulder.

  “Hmm, no. Just finishing up here. You’ve got a brunch party, right?”

  “Right.” I said slowly, hoping she would catch on to the devious inflection in my tone.

  She did. “I heard that. What are you thinking?”

  “Not much, just that the musicians may be canceling last minute and that I’ll be desperate to find replacements. Especially after I call Chanton Argo.”

  “Who’s Chanton Argo?”

  “Let me rephrase. Chanton nee Lenoir DeAngelo Speigner Wilson Gentry Argo.”

  Faith gasped. “Danton’s mother. How’d you find her?”

  “Love actually pointed me in the right direction by way of Mr. Dillon. It turns out

  that Danton’s been a member of The Oaks as long as we have. So Love got his parents names, and it turns out… Don‘t repeat this,”

  Faith crossed her heart, putting a finger to her lips, shaking her head.

  “Danton‘s mother is a client of mine.”