Sara nodded, the lack of confidence evident in the slight droop of her shoulders.
Chapter 3
Jaden stared at the cell phone, a bit amazed at himself for calling Denise and admitting that she occupied his thoughts. He was always cautious about starting any kind of relationship.
His financial status attracted the wrong women. Some women he was sure shared genes with a bloodhound. They practically sniffed the air before zeroing in on him. The bright gleam in their eyes had nothing to do with him. It had to do with dollar signs.
Through many trials and even more errors, gradually he distanced himself from babe magnets like bars, nightclubs and fitness gyms. His friends thought him crazy to miss out on the high ratio of females in the city. They made the dating scene sound like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
He wished that he’d already undergone this lifestyle change before falling for Charlene, the leech who’d attached herself and squeezed him dry. It hadn’t taken him long to know that they were on a road that could only end badly for him. She’d tried everything and, for the most part, it had worked to keep him at her side. Even now, he reaffirmed that he had never been in love with her. She knew this, too. But for her purposes, love didn’t matter. She’d had her life planned and he was the involuntary character in her play of a perfect family—father, mother and her child, a son. He often wondered how Demetrius was doing. His desire to see the boy warred with the actions that his visit would elicit from his mother.
Denise had him breaking all his rules. He enjoyed a strange mix of heady anticipation and tingling fear of the unknown.
He liked Denise. Her looks, her drive and how easy she was to talk to at dinner. He refused to allow his personal drama to suffocate his attempt to connect with her. Now, a few nights later, he’d invited her to his house for a home-cooked meal.
“This place should be in a magazine,” Denise blurted when she entered. She was amazed with the decor, order and neatness of the place—no dust bunnies in sight.
“It’s been featured in several national and local ones. Now I politely refuse. I don’t like feeling like a walking advertisement for women to approach.”
“Now, that sounds…”
“Rude?”
“No. Blunt.” She looked around the room, estimating the cost of the furniture, window dressing, decorations, wall paintings. This place, along with Jaden, would be considered a mother’s dream for her daughter. “Why do I get a personal tour? I may be after your deep pockets.”
“Maybe I’m the one looking at your deep pockets,” he replied.
“Touché, but that is my parents’ money. I’m a humble government worker.”
“Have a seat.” Jaden crossed the room to pick up a remote. With the push of a button, he’d turned on the CD player. “Mood lights?” He didn’t wait for her response before pressing a button, and the lights automatically dimmed to a soothing glow.
“Will any of those buttons produce a glass of white wine?” Denise glanced around the room, waiting for some secret hiding place to be revealed with a minibar.
“Sure. I do have a small collection in the basement. One sec.” Jaden disappeared through a door, his footsteps fading as he descended to what must have been a wine cellar.
“He can’t be this darn perfect.” She quickly walked around the living room and into the open-design dining room and kitchen. In any one of those areas, the guests could see each other. Given the apparent size of the house from the outside, she wondered what the remaining rooms featured.
Jaden reappeared with two wineglasses and a bottle of wine. “One of my favorites. It’s a wine from a small vineyard in Texas, outside of Houston, if you can believe it. But very tasty.”
Denise waited until he’d poured the wine. “Here’s to trying new things.”
“No risk. No reward,” Jaden added.
They clinked glasses and then took a sip for their toast. Denise was surprised by the mellow taste of the wine, expecting it to be dry. Instead, sweet. He had selected a good choice for the occasion. She took another appreciative sip.
Denise took a seat, opting for a high-backed single chair. She snuggled against it, enjoying the wine that slowly relaxed the tension. She was glad that Jaden stopped his nervous pacing to sit opposite her.
“What do you want to know about me?” Denise asked, purposely keeping her tone gentle.
Jaden swirled the wine in his glass. “That you may wind up wanting more from me than I can offer.”
“I used to want the world and then some.” Denise drained her glass and set it down. The wine warmed her. “Now, I live with only the present in mind.” She didn’t expect to have deep, philosophical conversation at this time of night.
“Has a man broken your heart?” Jaden asked.
“My heart has been broken.” Denise nodded. “But I wouldn’t call him a man. What about you? How many hearts have you broken?”
“I’m not sure that organ existed or even worked in some of the women I dated.”
“We’re quite a battle-weary couple.” She held up her glass for seconds.
“I’ve got something perfect for our recovery.” Jaden walked over to the bookcase along the wall. “Do you like poetry?”
Denise gave a lukewarm nod. “Are you sure that you’re not a professor?”
“Why would you say that?” Jaden was engrossed with his search. His hand dragged along the spines of books. He paused, then shook his head and continued until he got to the end of the row.
“Can’t remember ever reading poetry for the sheer pleasure.” Denise hoped that he wouldn’t launch into a lengthy analysis of poets. She knew only a handful of poets and less about poems. Now, if he wanted to talk about movies, she’d jump all over it.
“After a long day, I relax with a glass of wine and a book of poetry. It clears my head. Refills my tank when I feel emotionally spent over things I can’t control.” He selected a book, flipped through the pages and stopped at a page that interested him. “I really like this one.” He retook his seat and read the poem aloud.
Denise didn’t care for abstract verses like the one he was reading. However, the smooth, velvety tones of Jaden’s voice and striking rhythm of the verse had the same effect as the alcohol in her system. When he was done, she waved for him to continue. “I need peeled grapes to make this complete,” she teased. “Did some past lover turn you onto poetry?” Denise pushed the question through the fuzziness of her mind. She was so relaxed and contented to listen to Jaden.
“You’re persistent and way off course.”
And just like that, Denise wanted to kiss Jaden. Being with him was like doing a belly flop, undignified and forceful into the deep end of the pool. If she looked up through the watery surface, reality would be there waiting for her. Instead, she’d rather enjoy learning about this intriguing man who had the rare qualities of being drop-dead gorgeous with a working brain.
“My mother turned me onto poetry.”
The statement seemed innocent enough. However, Jaden didn’t elaborate any further.
“Read some more.” She surprised herself with the request. But with soft music in the background, a liberal supply of wine and satisfying company, she could get into this poetry vibe. Not that she dismissed the bonus of having Jaden’s one-on-one attention.
For the next ten minutes, Jaden moved on to another book and read poetry that revealed someone’s yearning for love that would never be returned. At the end, Denise set down her glass.
“Look, you’re going to have to find a poem that doesn’t leave me feeling like I need to bawl in my empty wineglass. I was just fine with the other stuff about life and the meaning of the universe. This sentimental stuff is bringing down my mood. Too much drama in the emotion department. Can you lighten it up, please?”
Jaden laughed. “Sorry. Here goes.”
Without the aid of a book, he told her a very dirty Irish limerick. The tale made her blush and left her giggling, too. “Now that’s more like it,�
� she complimented. “That other stuff is a downer. The poet needs to go to therapy,” she joked. “Who wrote that stuff?”
“Me.” Jaden slid his book of poetry over to her.
Denise wished that she were an action figure so that she could morph her body into a background piece of furniture and hide for the foreseeable future. “I’m sorry.” Her face felt hot from the shame of her big mouth. “I did think that it was beautiful.” She tried to sound sincere. Maybe there were redeeming qualities about the poem. But her inexperience didn’t make her a good critic.
“Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt my feelings. I’m a bit of a corny type.” He snapped the book closed. “Guess I was getting too cocky with my poetry selection.”
“Corny is good.” Denise walked over to Jaden’s chair and settled on the arm. “Corny is safe.” She played with his hair, tracing the outline of the shape trimmed around his forehead and sideburns. “Corny is sexy.”
“You were doing well up to that point. Now I know that you’re making fun of me.”
“No, not at all,” Denise said, but an unwelcoming laugh broke through and she couldn’t stop.
“See, there you go.”
“I’m not laughing at you. I’m trying to imagine this studious boy making great grades in science and math on his path to engineering, opting for the occasional poetry class. You’re a successful, high-profile general contractor, a great mixture of math and science with creative writing. Although I have to admit that your poems also have an underlying dark theme to them.”
Jaden had gotten up and headed for the kitchen. He emerged with slices of apples, pears and cheese. “Sorry for the bad manners. I should’ve offered you this much earlier.”
Denise helped herself to the fruit. After taking a bite of the pear, she opted for more. “Tell me about the poem. Were you talking about the same woman in all of them?”
“I wrote whatever came to mind. Sometimes I used a person for a frame of reference and then I added layers of characteristics to create a flavor. Kind of like a recipe.”
“From what you wrote, I’d say that recipe has a good dose of bitters.”
Jaden nodded. “You’re not off the mark. My father could’ve done without the poetry sessions. An athlete for a son was his dream. He didn’t think there was space for the two to coexist.”
“What about your brother?” Denise asked. “Did he follow through with your father’s dreams, too?”
“He did try but unfortunately ended his career abruptly with an emotional breakdown.”
Suddenly a loud thud sounded overhead. Denise jumped from the chair, almost falling in her attempt to find a safe spot in the room. Her heart pounded in her chest. She looked over at Jaden still seated in his chair. He stared up at the ceiling as if the source of the noise could be seen.
He put his finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. She didn’t need to be told. Her pulse had slowed down but she was still jittery. He carefully eased himself out of the chair. Each step he took was methodical and almost soundless. Denise refused to remain behind, although she didn’t relish acting like a heroine, either. Sticking close to him, she followed, but she didn’t have his graceful stealth. Their position must have been given away when she tripped over her feet on the hardwood floor.
Another thud sounded. Louder and closer.
Denise gripped the back of Jaden’s arm. She was a nervous mess but not too scared to notice the strength and muscle definition in his arm. She slipped her hand around his forearm, making sure that he took her wherever he went.
“Is someone up there?” Denise whispered. She prayed that he would mention the presence of a lively dog that she’d yet to meet to clarify this mystery.
“No.” Jaden slid his arm away from her, motioning that she should remain behind. He grabbed a knife from the fruit and cheese plate.
She thought about arguing with him. But the farther down the hall they moved, the more she wanted to head in the opposite direction. “You go. Shout if you need me to call 911.”
Jaden gave her a thumbs-up. Maybe having a woman in the house made him do stupid things like risk his life to investigate strange noises in his house. He’d much rather take Denise by the hand and leave. No need to play the hero.
He looked behind him. Denise’s eyes were round and alert with fear. Too late, he had to continue his task. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, breathing deeply to calm himself. Only when he was ready did he draw on patience to mount the stairs—slowly.
Before he could reach the top, a familiar figure in a distinctively drunken state appeared at the top of the steps. Jaden blinked, hoping he had had some brain miscue. The person grinned, waving down at them. His younger brother, Calvin, always had the worst timing.
“Yo, big brother, where are the bedsheets? I was searching for ’em. You got too many closets. Couldn’t find a darn thing.” His brother scratched his groin. “Too many rooms. Too much space for one man, if you ask me.” He swayed at the top of the steps, as if challenging the probability that if he leaned forward far enough he’d crash headfirst down to the floor.
“Calvin, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.” Jaden walked slowly up the stairs. His brother teetering forward then backward unnerved him. He’d have to coax him in a soft voice to take control of the situation. His trepidation at finding an intruder had been replaced with anger at his brother.
He really wished that Denise didn’t have to witness this ugliness. There was no way to neatly tuck away this unsavory scene. As the effects of the alcohol seemed to hang off his brother’s frame, making him aggressive, the opposite effect occurred in Jaden. Shame and embarrassment settled over his shoulders, weighing on him like an oversize cloak.
He didn’t want to look over his shoulder for Denise’s reaction. Where he stood midway on the staircase, he heard her move out from her hiding place below when Calvin made his untimely appearance.
Denise sensed Jaden’s displeasure, quite understandably. A drunken brother was one thing. A drunken brother in front of a woman he was trying to impress was quite another.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll get some coffee going,” she offered. She repeated the offer a tad louder when Jaden didn’t respond.
“Coffee sounds great, you pretty thing. Where’d you get her, Jay?”
Denise left before she had to hear Jaden’s response. She only hoped that his brother didn’t take a tumble. A drunken emergency-room patient would be even more problematic.
“Hello, young lady,” Calvin yelled from the stairs. “What’s your name? Jaden won’t tell me.”
From the kitchen Denise waited for Jaden to answer. But apparently he chose to ignore his brother. Denise couldn’t boast such stamina. She desperately wanted his brother to stop shouting. She stuck her head into view. “It’s Denise.”
“Coffee smells delicious, Dee Dee.” Calvin half walked, half slipped descending the stairs. He continued stumbling across the floor, aiming for the nearest dining-room chair with his arms outstretched zombie-style until he could grip the solid back of the chair with his hands. Small beads of sweat popped onto his brow, which he wiped away with his arm.
From where she stood Denise smelled the foul odor of alcohol and musty sweat. She pushed aside her revulsion for Jaden’s benefit. He couldn’t look more miserable.
“Sorry about that,” Jaden apologized, hovering near his brother until he settled into the chair. His dark, thunderous gaze fastened on his brother.
“Hey, stop apologizing. I’m a big girl.” Denise poured a big mug of strong black coffee and added a scant amount of sugar. She didn’t think that Jaden would make him leave so inebriated, but the coffee might settle him down for the night. She set the steaming brew on the table.
Jaden stared at his brother, pushing the coffee mug toward him. “I think it’s time for you to head to bed, Calvin.”
“Sure. You have a date, I see. She’d better treat you right. Right. Right! Right!” Calvin screamed the word repea
tedly. His emotional state had no consistency. One second he was a quiet drunk. In a snap, he turned into a belligerent rogue.
Jaden held his brother’s hand as he maneuvered the mug to his face. The process was slow because of the hot beverage. Yet he patiently helped his brother until he had drained the cup. A loud belch erupted from Calvin, whose eyes were closing and opening in shorter intervals.
“I’ll be right back.” Jaden tilted his head toward the stairs.
Denise nodded. She debated helping but figured she’d be more of a burden. In her life she had encountered many things, but alcoholism wasn’t one. Witnessing the effects of alcohol scared her.
The loss of control and self-respect did not leave for a pretty sight, not to mention the physical devastation. Calvin’s face bore little resemblance to Jaden’s. His uneven complexion and loose muscle control had turned his face into a mask.
“Dee Dee, I like you. No, I love you.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Don’t let Charlene scare you away, though. She’s like a snake in the grass.” Calvin promptly started hissing. He moved his hand through the air. “Their little boy is special, you know.”
“Enough, Calvin.” Jaden propelled him by the arm to the stairs.
Denise had busied herself with making her own cup of coffee. However, she heard every grunt of Jaden’s progress with his brother and Calvin’s words hit her ears with perfect clarity.
She laid the spoon down beside the coffee mug. Calvin may be drunk, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t speak the truth. What was more obvious was that Jaden didn’t deny or offer an explanation.
Denise kept her hands wrapped around the mug for its warmth. There was another woman. He’d alluded to her, but she hadn’t thought it had gone beyond a bad relationship. Now the mention of a boy, his son, unnerved her. He hadn’t talked about him. There were no pictures of him. Not even pictures stuck on the refrigerator like most parents had.
Gamble on Love Page 5