by Janice Sims
After a while, Blair sent Dominique to the shopping mall while he worked with the crew. Dominique walked through Lennox Mall looking at the beautiful clothes in Saks and Bloomingdale’s, but was too keyed up to buy anything. She found a bookstore and spent hours perusing the shelves. When Blair called on her cell phone, she was ready to go.
Dominique went to dinner with Blair and his dad at Fogo de Chao, a Brazilian steakhouse with a large salad bar and a nonstop parade of grilled meat. After getting their vegetables and salads at the food bar, they sat down at their table.
They were given little poker-sized chips with a green side and a red side. Blair explained that if she left green side of the chip facing up, the waiter would serve platters of beef, pork, lamb, and chicken. When she’d had enough, she could turn the chip over to display the red side to indicate she was through.
Following dinner, Jay went back to the garage while Blair and Dominique spent some time at a dance club. They danced for hours, holding on to each other, touching, and talking. Finally, though, Blair had to go back to the hotel to rest.
Outside Dominique’s room, sensual awareness sparked and flamed. He stepped forward and gathered her so close that her soft curves molded to the contours of his body. She tilted her face up. The simmering heat in his eyes burned through her clothes.
Blair bent down to kiss her. The touch of his lips on hers overwhelmed her with a shock of sensation. He deepened the kiss, his mouth covering hers hungrily as his tongue sent thrills of desire arcing through her. Sighing, she shook in his arms. His arms dropped.
On shaky legs, Dominique turned to open her door. Her fingers fumbled with key. It took two tries to open it. She stepped inside, her fingers hitting the light switch as she turned back to face Blair.
Their gazes locked. He leaned forward for one last sizzling kiss. Dominique felt dizzy. Before she could collect her wits, he was in her room with her and she was bending beneath the storm of his kisses. His hands, his lips, and his mouth were heated lightning against her sensitive skin, and they were everywhere.
“Blair,” she moaned as she stretched out on the bed with her dress around her hips and her bra on the floor. This moment was everything she’d dreamed. Her fingers caressed the smooth skin on his chest through his open shirt.
His mouth was warm and wet on her breasts and stomach as he drew the dress off her hips and down her long legs. His hands slid up her waist and down to cup her lace-covered buttocks. “I’ve been dreaming of this for weeks,” he grunted. “If you don’t want this, send me away. Say no, Dominique.”
She arched upward as he mouthed the tips of her breasts. “Yes,” she sighed, trailing her fingers down his naked chest. “I want you, too.”
The storm of passion returned with a vengeance, and they were rubbing, sliding, and undulating together in a searing heat that burned from the inside out. They tossed the last remnants of clothing aside and lay together on the sheets.
Blair drew a packet of protection from his pants on the floor, and Dominique smoothed the condom down the swollen length of him. Soon he was thrusting into her with a wild erotic rhythm which she punctuated with sighs and moans of pleasure. When she arched against him and melted, he held her tightly, trembling with the force of his release, his cry echoing her own.
He whispered her name in the darkness as they lay together on the damp sheets, still kissing. “We should have done this a long time ago.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She curled herself against his furnace-like warmth, not ready to end their time together. “Should we make up for lost time?”
His hands slid down her body to cup her intimately. “Just say the word. I’m down for anything you want.”
She lowered her lips to his for a kiss. “Yes, yes, yes…”
The passion storm between them continued until they fell asleep in the tangled sheets.
Blair awakened Dominique in the twilight hours of the morning. He’d already showered and dressed, and was headed to the garage and then the racetrack. He made her promise that she’d get up in time to make the start of the race.
After getting herself ready, Dominique took a taxi to the racetrack and sat in the front row of the stands. She was early enough to give Blair a kiss and offer him her scarf for good luck.
The stands filled quickly with a lively crowd. Dominique saw several women sitting near her in the front row that she assumed were with the racers. All of them were beautiful and dressed to get attention. Behind them, families filled the stands.
The roar and the hum of powerful engines filled the air. Dominique turned back to face the racecars as the roar grew louder. The flag went down, and she saw them take off with Blair in the middle of the pack.
She watched his sky-blue car with the number seven until it was out of sight. Then she switched her attention to the monitors to watch the cars and listened to the announcer.
The race went on for hours. Dominique was on her feet for most of the time, anxious for Blair. She waved to him every time his car stopped for service in the nearby maintenance area that they called the pit. It was used for quick maintenance, tire changes, and gas refills.
Suddenly, two cars collided and one crashed into the wall and flipped over. The first driver got out of his wreck on his own. A team sprinted out and rescued the second man just before his car burst into flames.
Dominique watched, gripping the edges of the stand, and saying a prayer for the driver and his family. Then she said another for Blair. She knew he was skilled, but this was a dangerous sport.
On the last lap, she yelled and cheered so long and loud that her voice was hoarse. Blair was one of the three leaders.
The three cars flew around the bend and headed for the finish line with Blair in the lead. The yellow car edged closer, but Blair sped past the finish line, still in the lead. The crowd roared.
Dominique ran from the stands to the pit area, flashing the pass which Blair had given her to get by the security guards. Blair opened his arms and she flew into them.
“I knew you’d win,” she said before their lips met in a congratulatory kiss.
He picked her up and swung her around. His heart was still beating fast as he held her tightly.
“Oh Blair, I’m so happy for you,” she said, knowing that he would put the $300,000 in prize money to good use.
Reporters approached with cameras to interview Blair. He tried to hold on to Dominique, but they pulled him away and quickly surrounded him.
“Wait for me,” he called.
Dominique sat and waited. Her heart was with Blair as he talked to the reporters and sponsors and answered questions. Still basking in the glow of the love they’d made, she wanted him to know that she loved him and wanted him to be happy.
He stood in the limelight and handled the press like a pro. She’d never loved any man as much. Her heart was so full that she couldn’t think past what she would say.
As the stands emptied, she scanned them, knowing that her parents were somewhere out there. They were nowhere in sight. After an hour, the only people left were some of the women who were with the racers and the racers’ families.
Center stage, the press was taking pictures of Blair and the second-and third-place winners with their cars. He waved to her, blew kisses, and signaled her to wait several times. Each time her pulse sped up.
An hour and a half passed before she saw her parents approaching. They were ready to drive back to Red Oaks, but she knew they would wait if she asked. In her thoughts, she tried to clarify why she was waiting for—and what she expected—from Blair. That’s when she realized that it was time for her to go.
Her chest was heavy and her eyelids stung. She bit down on her bottom lip. Blair was doing something he loved. He was a success and where he wanted to be in his life. It did not include her. That was the reality of her situation with him.
She didn’t want a public ending to what they’d shared. It would be difficult for both of them. Waiting for Blair could only involve an awk
ward moment and another good-bye.
She found the paper at the back of the planner she kept in her purse and used it to write him a note. Then she folded it and wrote his name on it.
“You’re not going to stay?” Jay asked in a surprised tone when she asked him to give Blair the note.
She shook her head, her throat so clogged she could barely speak. “It wouldn’t do any good. Blair’s got his mind made up on where he is in his life and what he wants. He’s not ready for anything permanent.”
Jay pushed his cap back on his head. “Well, I enjoyed meeting you and going to dinner with you and Blair. You’re the nicest young lady I’ve ever seen him with.”
Thanking him, Dominique left with her parents. Her chest hurt. She sat in the back of her parents’ car and mopped her tear-stained face with a wad of tissue. She felt as if she were leaving a part of herself behind, and no amount of logic could make the feeling go away.
Huddling in the corner of the seat, she closed her eyes. It was hard to believe that the drive back to Red Oaks was the same one she’d taken with Blair only yesterday.
Nine
Blair escaped the crowd of reporters, sponsors, and well-wishers to look for Dominique. “Where is she?” he asked his dad, who was perched on Blair’s tool kit near the pit.
“She left,” Jay said, giving him the folded sheet of paper. “She sat and waited until her parents came, then she wrote this note for you.”
Blair pulled the sheet open hurriedly, and read:
Blair,
You’re all that any woman could want. I enjoyed every minute we spent together. You made a lasting impression on me. I wish you happiness, love, and victory in everything you do. Have a nice life.
Love,
Dominique
Love? Blair reread the ending on the note. Dominique had signed the note with love. Did it mean she loved him? Better yet, did he love her?
Despite his elation at winning, he fought the blues as he collected the prize check and signed the paperwork. He liked this life, and it was the vehicle he’d chosen to make his dreams come true. But, right now, it seemed empty.
The crew packed up everything and got ready to get on the road for the next race. Blair gave each member of the team a share of the prize money, and they left Atlanta for the next town on the racing circuit.
Blair sat with his dad in the front seat of the truck and watched it eat up the road.
Jay gave his son a concerned glance. “You okay, son?”
“Fine.” Blair closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He could hear the guys in the back of the cab laughing and joking over the steady hum of the truck’s engine. Usually, he joined in with choice comments and laughter, but he wasn’t feeling sociable. He was tired from staying up late with Dominique and then racing for hours with the adrenaline raging. Gradually, he fell into slumber.
The sound of a woman’s laughter awakened Blair. He sat up and looked around. The truck was stopped. They’d arrived at the hotel in Rally, Georgia, and a woman was passing through the hotel parking lot with her escort. Tomorrow the team would move on to a town closer to the next race and get the car ready.
It was Holden’s turn to spend the night with the car, so he was busy pulling blankets and a mattress across the flattened seats. The rest of the crew checked into the hotel.
Blair got his room key and escaped. The room was huge. He lay on the king-sized bed and gazed at the ceiling. He kept hearing Dominique’s voice and her laughter. Right then he knew she was his. She’d signed her note with love.
It was three in the morning by the time he realized what he had to do. He got up from the bed and freshened up. Then he went outside and retrieved the car from the tow bar behind the truck.
Jay was outside the hotel checking out the noise before Blair could get away. Sensing what was going on, he nodded and grinned at his son. “Go get her, boy,” he said.
Turning the car around, Blair got back on the road and headed for Red Oaks.
Dominique had a rotten night. She fielded questions about Blair from her parents all the way home from Atlanta, and then returned gratefully to her condo.
For most of the night, she tossed and turned in her bed, too troubled to sleep. By seven, she was in her kitchen making coffee and preparing for her run. She stood on tiptoe to get a large cup from the top shelf of the cabinet.
When a tear ran down her cheek, she cursed loudly. She’d promised herself that there would be no more tears for Blair. Another tear fell. Dominique set the cup down and balled up her fists. She covered her eyes with her hands and cried.
It took a while for her notice the hammering noise outside. She stood and looked out the window. There was nothing going on outside. When the pounding continued, she went to the door and checked the peephole. She drew in a hard, pain-filled breath. The tears ran faster. Then she was flinging the door wide and letting Blair pull her into his arms.
“Baby, oh baby,” Blair whispered holding her so tight she could barely breathe. “I thought about you all night. I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking that I would never see you again, and my life would be an endless cycle of work and races.”
Willing the tears to stop, she gazed at him with wet eyes. “You needed me to go away, so you could go on with the racing and the business without me hanging around,” she said.
“I asked you to wait,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her.
Dominique pounded his shoulder playfully with her fist. “Yeah, so that you could say good-bye.”
He framed her face with his hands and covered it with soft kisses. His eyes were sincere. “No. I don’t think I would have been able to do it,” he confessed. “I couldn’t believe you’d just left me like that.”
“I didn’t think you cared,” she told him. “And I didn’t want to say good-bye.”
“Dominique, I love you. I came back because I missed you. I’m not going to do without you. Understand?”
“You love me?” She stared at him incredulously. “You love me?”
“Yeah, I do.” With a half grin that lacked his usual confidence, he wiped the moisture from her eyes with his fingertips and kissed her eyelids. “I didn’t know because I’ve never felt like this before. Then there’s the fact that I’m a stubborn guy who’s used to having things his way. Love and marriage have been things that other people talk about and do, not me. Now I know that you’re what I want. I’ll go crazy if we’re not going to be together. What do you say, Dominique? Will you marry me?”
She stared at him, her fingers digging into his shoulders to convince herself that this was real. He was saying all the things she’d longed to hear. Practical questions filled her mind. “Where would I live?”
He touched her hair and stroked her neck. “Here, and with me as much as possible. I want you to live your dreams, too.”
She pulled his head down for a deep, drugging kiss.
He nibbled on her lips and grasped her hands. “Is that a yes?”
Dominique gazed into his eyes and answered straight from her heart. “Yes.”
“Woo hoo!” Blair lifted her in the air and swung her around. Then he set her down on the kitchen table. “It’s going to be good. Everything you ever dreamed of,” he assured her.
“I’m going to make you happy, too,” Dominique promised, bending forward to circle him with her arms and legs. Holding Blair and laughing as he slid his hands up her gown and joked about fantasies in the kitchen, she knew she’d finally found a love that would grow into one to rival the one her parents had.
Love Under New Management
Nathasha Brooks-Harris
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the memory of my favorite aunt, Bessie Mae Clark, August 26, 1925–April 21, 1965.
Your time was too short on earth, but you touched my life in a way you’ll never know. After finding some of your fine poems which should’ve been published so many years ago, I realized where my passion for writing comes from. I know you’r
e up in Heaven watching over me and guiding my hand as I write. This book is because of the blood and gifts which runs through our veins. I only hope that I did you proud. Rest on, sweet Auntie, I’ll always love you.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I would like to thank God for laying this project on my heart. I don’t know why He did; I just hope that the words contained in my novella are a word in season for someone. I’d like to say an extra special thank you to Demetria Lucas, my very patient editor. Thanks so much for bringing this book to life and for believing in it. Your enthusiasm sparked my creativity more than you’ll ever know. Thanks also for hanging in there with me (and the group) when things got a little rough. To my agent, Sha-Shana Crichton, I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the absolute best! To my co-authors, Janice Sims, Natalie Dunbar, and Kim Louise, you ladies are wonderful! It was a pleasure working with each of you, and I hope that we can do it again real soon. I felt so blessed to work with such talented ladies who are not only great authors, but also dear friends.
One
Valerie Freeman drummed her professionally manicured nails on the side of her drafting table as she designed an ad for Delta Airlines’ newest promotional campaign. “It’s as quiet as a mausoleum in here,” she muttered to herself, strolling across the floor of her small home studio to turn on the stereo. “A little background noise is exactly what I need while I work.”
Switching on the FM radio, she skipped past classic soul, traditional jazz, and hip-hop, in favor of some down-home Sunday morning gospel music. Satisfied with her choice, she went back to her desk and picked up where she’d left off. As she penciled in the colors that would best attract consumers’ eyes when they saw the nationwide advertisement, Valerie began humming along with the melodious sounds of the music she heard. At that moment, her mind burned with the memory of how much she enjoyed singing in the choir at the White Rock Baptist Church in Atlanta, where she was a member while she attended college. But singing was a thing of her past and she didn’t dare do it anymore—at least not professionally, as she’d had hoped to do when she was younger.