Love Takes Time

by Adrianne Byrd

  A second later another set of footsteps strolled over to him. A large hand jutted out in front of his face. “Finished bleeding on my floor?”

  Q tried to broker a smile, but it hurt too damn much. Putting his pride aside, he slid his hand into his cousin’s and was grateful that with one firm jerk he was back onto his feet. Now all he had to do was stay on them. He didn’t look directly at Xavier, but squinting his eyes around the periphery, he saw his best friend looking around and shaking his head. Following Xavier’s lead, he took in the scene himself, or at least he tried to with eyes that were ready to swell shut. The crowds were gone and the club was apparently closed. It looked like a wrecking ball had leveled the place.

  “Aww, man. Sorry about this.”

  “Sorry?” Xavier snapped, his tone nearly the same decibel as a roaring lion. “Sorry doesn’t fix our crib.” He drew in a few deep breaths and seemingly regained control of himself.

  “Here you go, boss.” One of the female employees approached and handed him something before flashing Quentin a sympathetic smile and then sauntering off. The old Quentin would have followed up an open invitation like that. The new Quentin wanted to stay the hell away from women.

  Far away.

  “Man, I’ve never seen anyone get their ass handed to them like that since the Tyson-Holyfield fight,” Xavier said, wincing and handing over a handmade ice pack. Since he was Quentin’s favorite cousin, he felt free to make such a flippant remark. “I might be mistaken, but I think that brother was trying to reconstruct your face.” He chuckled, a clear sign he was getting over his anger.

  “Very funny,” Q mumbled, limping his way. He tilted his bruised and bloody head back and put the ice pack back on his throbbing temple. This must be what it felt like to be run over by a Mack truck.

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” Xavier stepped back. “And don’t drip blood on my shoes.” He snickered and followed his cousin over to the nearest bar. He walked around the counter and grabbed two glasses.

  Q moaned and groaned about his injuries.

  “You know you could have blocked a few of those punches,” Xavier said. “Haven’t you ever heard of stick and move?”

  “You’re not helping.”

  Xavier shook his head. “Seriously. What’s up with you? You haven’t been yourself for a while. We either need to talk this out or I’m going to have to ban you from coming in here.”

  “I’m part owner.”

  “I know. Awkward, huh?”

  Q snorted.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “It’s about this…woman.”

  “Now why aren’t I surprised?” Xavier’s laughter exploded, shaking his entire frame.

  “Trust me. She’s not just any woman.” Quentin sighed, lowered the ice pack.

  Xavier winced and twisted his face as if he was viewing a crime scene. “Put that back on. And you might want to reconsider calling a doctor. That nose is going to need some serious reconstructive work.”

  Q moaned but did as his best friend suggested. The ice pack felt good against his tight, throbbing skin anyway.

  “What can I get you?” asked Xavier.

  “I’ll have what you’re having,” Q croaked. “But make it a double.”

  Xavier filled the second glass to the rim with good old reliable Jack Daniel’s. “I think I’ll leave the bottle out,” he said. “It looks likes you’re gonna need it.”

  Quentin agreed.

  Xavier turned away briefly to put away some glasses, but by the time he turned back, Q had already emptied his first shot glass.

  “Whoever this chick is, she’s done one hell of a number on you.” Xavier said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t fathom such a thing. “I’ve never seen you like this and I’ve seen you with plenty of women.”

  Quentin didn’t respond. Instead he reached for the Jack Daniel’s bottle himself and refilled his glass.

  “Since we had to close early tonight and you don’t seem to be in any hurry to go home, why don’t you tell me about this mysterious woman that’s worth you getting your ass whooped over?”

  Silence.

  “Well, what’s her name?”

  There was another long pause, and then, “Alyssa,” Q said more to his empty glass than his cousin. “But I call her Alice…”

  A Diamond in Plain Sight

  Chapter 2

  Six years earlier…

  “Beautiful!” Emmanuel shouted while clicking away with his 35 mm camera. “Now tilt your head just a little more to the right.”

  Expertly, Alyssa followed the renowned photographer’s direction with effortless ease and grace. It had taken years to master holding a bright or even sexy smile while frolicking on a beach in freezing weather.

  “Aw. That’s it. That’s it,” Emmanuel praised. “Give me a little more shoulder. Yes. Yes. Beautiful.” It was the second time Alyssa and the celebrity photographer had worked together and just like before, both experienced a wonderful chemistry that was raw and unique in such a hard, jaded business.

  A wicked chill raced down Alyssa’s spine, but with steel determination, she kept her teeth from chattering. Though her modeling had taken her all over the world, this was her first photo shoot on Paradise Beach in beautiful Mykonos, Greece. She could just do without the late fall weather.

  “All right. Take ten,” Emmanuel shouted, and then gave Alyssa an encouraging wink.

  The crew broke into immediate applause. The men, both gay and straight, showered her with praise while the women were polite but a bit standoffish. All in all, it was the way the business operated. Ever since Alyssa first began her modeling career, people approached her with their own preconceptions of what she was all about: shallow, vapid and vain. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

  Alyssa popped out of the water and welcomed the large towel offered to her by one of the assistants like it was a life jacket. In many ways it was. It had become impossible to stop her teeth from clacking together.

  “You were wonderful,” the young assistant assured her. “Everyone is going to be buzzing about these photos when they come out. No doubt you’ll get the cover of Sports Illustrated this year.”

  “Thanks,” Alyssa said. She’d made the highly coveted cover last year and was just pleased to have been asked again to pose. Still, there was no denying that the cover had accelerated her already rising modeling career and despite shoots like this, she loved every moment of it.

  “Here. This should be better.” Tangela, Alyssa’s best friend and solo entourage, raced over with a warm bulky coat she’d kept near a portable heater and draped it around Alyssa’s shoulders.

  “Aww. Tangie, you’re the best.” Alyssa said, closing her eyes in near ecstasy.

  “Just doing my job, taking care of you.”

  Thank God, Alyssa thought. She honestly believed that her life would’ve been much harder without at least one person she could trust unconditionally—one person that wasn’t jealous of her success.

  Alyssa and Tangela walked behind the tracking lights and ignored the buffet table, loaded down with high calories and sugary temptations. As usual, her stomach growled loudly in protest.

  “Oh, I brought some carrots,” Tangela offered. “You want some?”

  Carrots. How appetizing. Her stomach gave another long winding growl and Alyssa quickly realized that something was better than nothing. “Give me the carrots.”

  Tangela, as always, laughed at Alyssa’s diet grumpiness and quickly rummaged through her knapsack for the boring, crunchy snack while Alyssa’s ears perked at the sound of something ringing.

  “Do you hear that?”

  Tangela looked up. “Hear what?”

  Riiiinnng.

  “Oh. Your cell phone is in the coat pocket,” Tanglea said.

  Alyssa shoved her hands into her pockets and scooped out her BlackBerry. She read the ID screen and smiled. “Hello, Daddy.”

  “Hey, baby girl. How are you? I didn’t catch you at a
bad time, did I?” he asked gruffly.

  “There’s never a bad time for you,” she said and meant it. Despite the distance and her fewer and fewer visits home, they had a close and special relationship. In fact, she considered him more of a best friend than her girl, Tangela. “So what’s up?”

  Tangela held out the small bag of carrots and Alyssa reached over and grabbed a few.

  “Well, I was wondering if you were free this weekend?”

  Alyssa frowned at the question. “Well, I don’t know, I’d have to check my calendar. Why, is something up?” She chomped down on her carrot and pretended that it was a piping hot, glazed doughnut. When her father didn’t immediately answer, her hackles rose. Was there something wrong? Was he sick? “Dad?” Her heartbeat quickened. What would she do if something happened to him? He was the only family she had.

  “Actually, baby girl…I’m getting married.”

  Silence.

  “Ally? Are you there?”

  She blinked, swallowed and choked on that pesky carrot.

  “Ally?”

  Dropping the phone, tears surfaced and streamed, sufficiently ruining Alyssa’s makeup.

  Tangela sprang into action and started whacking Alyssa on the back. “Are you all right?”

  Married? Did he just say that he was getting married? Feeling her spine about to snap in half, Alyssa flailed her hands to ward her friend off. “All right. All right. I’m okay.”

  “You’re supposed to chew before you swallow,” Tangela said as if she needed reminding.

  “My phone. Where is my phone?” Alyssa glanced around and spotted it in the white sand and snatched it up.

  “Ally? Ally? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.” She moved away from Tangela, trying to figure out what to say. “Um, this is um…wow.”

  Her father chuckled. “I know this may come as a surprise.”

  That’s an understatement. “I didn’t even know that you were seeing anyone,” she admitted and tried to ignore her bruised feelings. “Anyone I know?”

  “Well, yeah. I, um, you met her long time ago. Estelle Sullivan.”

  Alyssa shook her head, not placing a face to the name.

  “She, um, used to teach at Springfield Elementary.”

  The name suddenly clicked. “Ms. Sullivan—my second grade teacher?”

  “See. I knew you’d remember her.” His voice perked with pride.

  Alyssa glanced back over her shoulder at Tangie, who in turn, mouthed the inquiry, “What’s wrong?”

  My father has lost his mind, she wanted to say.

  “So, do you think you’ll be able to come? Mister Hinton said that we could have the wedding right here on the property. After that, well, I’m retiring.”

  Whoa. This was a lot of new information at one time. How long had she been trying to get her father to quit his job as the Hintons’ personal chef?

  “Baby girl?”

  “Uh, yeah,” she said, still struggling with the proper way to respond. “Well, wow. This is big news. Really big.”

  “It is,” he admitted. “But I gotta tell you…it’s been a long time since I’ve been this happy. This…complete.”

  Alyssa closed her eyes at the raw emotion she heard in her father’s voice.

  “I love her, baby girl.”

  Her smile returned. “Then I love her, too, Dad.”

  “So does that mean that you’ll come?”

  “It means that I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “A paper, please,” Quentin said, walking up to one of the many New York newsstands in the middle of Times Square.

  “Which one,” the brusque vendor asked, gesturing toward a variety.

  “Times,” Q answered, shoving his hand into his pants pocket to dig around for some change, but from the corners of his eyes a magazine cover caught his attention. He turned his head and leaned forward. The tall beauty that stared back at him from the glossy page had the effect of a steel punch to the gut. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a woman with such magnetic and soulful eyes—and those curves and long limbs. Good Lord, have mercy!

  The vendor cleared his throat.

  Q jumped and returned his attention to the man.

  “Will there be anything else?” he asked.

  “No.” Quentin shook his head. There was no way he was about to buy Vogue. He didn’t want to give the vendor the wrong idea. He paid for his paper but before strolling off he gave the magazine a quick final glance. Minutes later, he arrived at his favorite morning eatery, Diamond Dairy. Not surprising, his brother Sterling was already there and waiting for him.

  “Would it hurt you to be late for something once in your life?” Q asked, plopping into the chair across from his brother.

  “Would it hurt you to be on time for something once in your life?” Sterling volleyed without blinking an eye.

  “Now why in the world would I want to do something like that?”

  “Morning, boys.” Tabitha, their usual waitress, greeted them with a piping hot coffee pot. “What will it be?”

  “The usual, Tabby,” Q answered, as he peeled open his newspaper. He went straight for the crossword puzzle and pulled out a pen from his pocket.

  “Same here,” Sterling said, and retrieved the rest of the paper. “I don’t know how you can do that thing. I can never get more than a couple of answers.”

  “That’s because I’m the genius in the family,” Q taunted. Years ago, to everyone’s disbelief, Quentin had scored a 170 on his IQ test, higher than both his brothers, who were successful in business—a fact that he never let anyone forget.

  Sterling shook his head and fingered his tie. “Too bad that you don’t use that big brain of yours to get a job.”

  “C’mon. Not that again. I got a job once, remember? After we got Jonas hitched to Toni. I put in my six months at Hinton Enterprises and now I’m on vacation.”

  “That was years ago.”

  “And I’m still traumatized.”

  Sterling laughed and shook his head. “I called you this morning.”

  Q’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “Oh?”

  “New girlfriend?”

  “Change the subject,” Quentin said. “You know I never kiss and tell.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since now.”

  “But aren’t you supposed to be—I thought you and Dad had made a deal?” When Quentin didn’t answer, Sterling shook his head. “I swear. You’ll never change.”

  “That’s the goal,” Q boasted.

  “Well, try not to hit on any of the bridesmaids this weekend. It would be considered bad form.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Mom didn’t call you?”

  Tabitha returned and placed two western omelets in front of the brothers.

  “What, is Mom seeing a new psychic or something?” Q asked, grabbing his fork.

  “No. Alfred is getting married this weekend.” Sterling sipped at his coffee. “And we’ve been invited.”

  “Get out of here!” Q laughed. “Alfred’s jumping the broom? That old dog!”

  Q exhaled and pushed back in his chair. “Jeez, I haven’t been home in a long time.”

  Sterling’s smile returned. “Yep. He’s a good man. I’m happy for him.” He took another sip of his coffee. “It’s good to find love at any age.”

  “Guess that means you can hit the senior circuit and pick yourself up a wife before she wheels away.”

  Sterling scowled. “I’m only a year older than you.”

  “But you act twenty years older.”

  “Not funny.”

  Q snickered and then spotted a woman at the next table, holding up Vogue magazine. The cover model pulled at him again. Why did that face seem so familiar?

  “What is it?” Sterling glanced around to see what caught Quentin’s attention.

  “Nothing,” Q assured him with a shake of his head. “My mind is just playing tricks on me.” What else
could it be? Surely, he couldn’t have known the woman on the cover of Vogue. No way he could’ve ever forgotten such a face.

  Chapter 3

  “Baby girl, you made it!” Alfred threw open his arms as his daughter raced from her luxury rental car and flashed him with her million-dollar smile—her mother’s smile. When her slight weight pressed against him, he wrapped his long thick arms around her and rocked her from side to side in his exuberance. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  Alyssa eased back to look into her father’s eyes. “You look so good.”

  Her father’s smile brightened. “That’s because my favorite girl has finally come home. Everyone is waiting for you inside.” He released her from his embrace. “Let me help you get your bags.” Alfred rushed over to the trunk of her car. “Oh hey, Tangela.”

  He gave the young woman a quick hug, as well. “I’ll get those for you,” he said, taking the luggage from her hands.

  “Thank you, Mr. Jansen.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Alfred loaded his arms with their luggage and escorted them to Alyssa’s old bedroom in the servants’ quarters.

  “I don’t believe it,” Alyssa said, looking around. “You haven’t changed a thing.” The thought both surprised and pleased her. Her gaze took in the soft pastels, the Laura Ashley collection, and the hundreds of stuffed animals she’d collected over the years. It was truly like stepping back in time.

  “It’s your room. It never felt right packing any of this stuff up,” her father said, setting the luggage down.

  “But you’re going to be leaving the Hinton estate soon, aren’t you, Mr. Jansen?” Tangela asked. “You and your new wife aren’t going to continue to live here.”

  Alfred shook his head. “No…we, um, bought a place in Atlanta.”

  “Atlanta?” Alyssa and Tangela echoed.

  Alfred nodded. “Estelle has some family there.”

  He’s marrying into a whole new family? “That’s nice,” Alyssa lied.

  Her father walked over and draped his arms around her small shoulders. “Don’t give me that look. My marrying Estelle doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being your father. Nothing will ever stop that.”