“No one who means anything anymore.” Abisi tightened his grip on her hand. “I was seeing her when I first came to New Orleans. She was possessive, cruel, and never satisfied. She only wanted me for what I could give her. It ended, but now—” He paused and wiped perspiration from his brow. “Now, she’s working here.”
“Why does she make you nervous?” Harley searched his gaze.
“Because she’s humiliated me in public. I don’t want her doing the same to me or you now.” Abisi lowered his voice and glanced around. “I sometimes think she parks outside of my house.”
Harley raised her eyebrows. “She was listening to us.” Her throat constricted. “Do you think she’d hurt you?” The thought of him in trouble sent a wave of cold terror up Harley’s spine. Abisi looked miserable, and she believed him about Kimberly. She smiled suddenly, forcing a lightness into her voice she didn’t feel. “She tries anything, I’ll get her back. Have you gone to the police?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Police? To tell them what? She hasn’t done anything yet.” He then frowned uneasily. “What would you do?”
“Put her in one of my books.” Harley took a bite out of her sandwich and winked. No one had better ever cause her man grief.
Thirty minutes later, Harley parked beside St. Cyprian’s Girls High School. She used her key to enter.
Jules, one of the maintenance people, smiled broadly when he saw her. He waved at her and made his way to the front of the building, shears and clippers in his hands.
“Good afternoon, Jules.”
“To you, too, ma’am.” He tipped his cap.
Less than an hour later, Harley emerged from the building. She retrieved the keys from her purse and crossed to her car. “Oh, shit!” Both tires on the driver’s side of her car were flat.
Jules appeared from the other side of the building. He placed a trash bag in a dumpster and called to her. “Anything wrong, Ms. Michel?”
“Yes, I seem to have two flats.” Harley dialed her car service agency.
“Bad luck.” Jules knelt to examine the tires. He looked up suddenly. “Ms. Michel, these ain’t no flats. Your tires have been slit.”
Harley swallowed. Who would do such a thing? The school was almost deserted. Besides, the kids liked her. Maybe some gang member decided to earn street credit on her car. “Did you see anyone around here?”
“I did, but I didn’t think she was doing anything wrong.”
“What did you see?”
“A lady pulled in here in a red Camaro and parked near you. I went around back to take care of the crepe myrtles. I thought she was a parent coming to the office.”
Harley sighed, frustrated. This would cost her money she didn’t have. “Are you sure she wasn’t?”
“Don’t know, but she was the only person to come in here. The secretary’s been here all day. Same with the other maintenance people. You pulled up, and she came a few minutes later.”
“You didn’t recognize her?”
“No, but she was wearing one of those shirts like nurses wear. It had little animals on it, but it had that V-neck collar.”
Harley gasped. Oh, Jesus! What she suspected couldn’t be happening. Harley punched in Abisi’s cell number. “What kind of car does Kimberly drive?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Harley could hear the panic in his voice.
“Tell me.”
“A red Camaro.” His voice held an edge. “What in hell is happening, Harley?”
“I think your old girlfriend slashed my tires.”
At first, Harley thought the phone went dead.
“I’ll take care of the car. Don’t worry.” His voice grew harsh. “I’ll also take care of her.”
Harley moved away so Jules couldn’t hear her. “Don’t kill her, for Christ’s sakes.”
“I won’t kill her, but I sure as bloody hell can see that she doesn’t work here anymore.”
“I can’t really prove this. Neither can you.” Harley would have loved to strangle the woman, but she knew they couldn’t make hasty accusations.
His voice thundered over the phone. “We’ll know if she disappeared from her job for any period. She won’t get by with this. I’ll bring this to the authorities.”
“Just be careful, okay. The woman’s a fruit cake.” Harley shivered, imagining the woman hiding behind a bush. She saw Abisi with a knife in his chest and shivered.
“Ma’am.” Jules was still bent over her tires. “Those cameras on the roof might’ve caught something.”
An hour later, local authorities took Kimberly Cheramie into custody for vandalism and criminal mischief. The hospital board, called in for an emergency meeting, fired her from the hospital. Her colleagues reported that she had been absent from work at the time Harley’s car was vandalized. The cameras surrounding the school also contained her image. Armed with such strong evidence, the district attorney moved to press formal charges against her. Abisi called Harley and swore that Kimberly would never hurt her again. Later that evening, he drove a new cobalt blue luxury car to Harley’s driveway.
“Did you buy a new car?” Harley ran her hand over the framework. Her car was in the shop, waiting for its new tires. Judy had driven her home, lecturing her about crazy people throughout the drive.
“It’s not mine.” He handed her the keys.
Harley stared at him with growing comprehension. She then gasped, staring at him in amazement. The blood pulsed through her veins. “You bought me a car?” Harley wasn’t sure how she felt. No one had taken care of her in years, and she’d prided herself on her independence.
He studied her. “Don’t you like it?”
“Of course, I like it. Who wouldn’t?” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just that—”
“You’ve had no one to look out for you in a long time.” Abisi held her at arm’s length and stared into her face. The man sometimes had the uncanny ability of knowing her inner thoughts. “Let me look out for you for once. You’ll only have to do what you want to. Besides, I brought you grief today. Let me make it right.”
Harley smiled at him. “Kimberly brought me grief today, not you, and I can’t simply accept a car. We’ve practically just met.” Harley shook her head. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“She only came in contact with you because of me.” He placed a lingering kiss on her lips. “I think I’m falling in love with you. Accept this from me.” He grinned at her. “I don’t need a new car, and I don’t want two in my driveway.”
“Okay. Okay.” Harley returned his kiss.
Oh God, was she falling in love, too?
Chapter 7
“You don’t need to buy me things to make me happy.” Harley searched Abisi’s gaze. They were sitting on a swing on the porch, enjoying strawberry snowballs. Abisi had insisted they drive the new car to the famous snowball stand on Plum Street. Nico had sat in the back seat, head protruding from an open window. Now, the dog sat contentedly at Harley’s feet. “You know that, don’t you?”
Abisi nodded, stared ahead, and sucked on the straw. He was quiet for a long time. “Yes, I know that. I also owe you an explanation about Kimberly.”
“The past is the past. I didn’t think you lived a celibate life.” Harley brushed away a mosquito that had settled on her arm. She was still sorting through her own feelings about Kimberly and about Abisi’s declaration of love. Thoughts of John still filled her head some nights, but she liked and admired this man. They were physically compatible, but she was unsure if what she felt was love. Maybe love was different with age. No one could respond with teenaged passion to lovers for life.
“Kimberly was trouble from the start. I should have known better. God knows Jessica warned me about her.” Abisi planted a warm kiss on her shoulder.
“How well did Jessica know her?” Harley remembered the tattoo on his shoulder blade. She’d delicately run her hands over it the many nights they had spent together.
“Jessica was in New York for a fashion exhibit. I flew up to visit her and took Kimberly with me.”
Harley nodded, making no response. She wondered how much of Abisi’s life was controlled by his daughter. Abisi had a daughter who freely commented on her father’s relationships. Maybe Jessica had been right about Kimberly, but she’d apparently made that judgment after only one meeting. Harley wondered what Abisi had told his daughter about her, and what the protective Jessica had said. Harley sensed his gaze on her and smiled. She wasn’t even sure of her own feelings for Abisi, but she couldn’t deny the jealousy she’d felt when he’d told her about Kimberly.
Harley shuddered inside. Why had John died? She thought she’d have one marriage and that she would die with her soul mate. Dating at forty was confusing. Even the rules had changed since she’d last dated twenty years ago, and when people married for the first time, they grew into each other’s habits and families. Adding people to one’s life when older rocked the status quo. Well, maybe the establishment sometimes needed to be rocked, but Harley wasn’t sure how much hardcore change she could take.
He cleared his throat. “Have you been to London?”
“About twenty years ago.” Harley drew a sharp intake of breath. Her insides went hollow. She still remembered walking with John in Trafalgar Square. They had taken a trip to the British Isles for their honeymoon, but she didn’t want to share that with this man today. She forced a smile. “Why?”
Abisi placed the remains of his snowball near Nico. The dog lapped up the sweet substance in the cup, his tail swishing flies like a merry symphony director. “Well, Jessica is getting married, and I’m going.”
“Of course, you are, but you indicated the wedding might not be taking place.” Harley retrieved the cup after Nico had licked every last bit of sweetness he could enjoy.
“Well, there’s the rub, as Shakespeare said. The wedding has simply been delayed. She’s busy helping with the collection. She hasn’t told me she’s not marrying Geoffrey. Jessica is the type of person who just likes her independence.” Abisi slipped an arm around her. “Will you come?”
Harley understood Jessica. Before she’d met Abisi, she was often lonely, but she, too, liked her independence. Maybe marriage wasn’t for independent people. A voice whispered in the back of her brain, Go with the flow. You were never good with that. You had to control everything. Go with the flow. Was it Eden telling her to do it? Or her father? She knew her parents would want her to be happy. London would be wonderful. Her mind flashed back to London nightlife: plays, music, and pubs. The history alone had been wonderful: The Tower, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, St. Paul’s Cathedral, and Westminster Abbey. John, the history major, had been ecstatic. Not that they’d only reveled in staid history. They ate fish and chips at the Tipperary and drank pints in the local pub. They each took a picture standing on the steps of Abbey Road Studios. The same voice still vibrated in her brain. Don’t be a fool. Go to London. You’ll have fun. Harley hoped her confusion didn’t reflect in her smile. “Yes, I’ll come. I’d love to see London again.”
“A lot has changed in twenty years, but much has stayed the same.” Abisi kissed her lingeringly. His lips sent the familiar rush of heat through her body. He didn’t ask details about her earlier trip to London. If he sensed her misgivings, Abisi gave no indication that he felt anything but desire for her. Harley rested her head on his shoulder. Maybe someone could be entangled in another’s life if that person respected boundaries.
The night Abisi asked her to go to London, Harley slept contentedly in his arms without terrifying dreams disturbing her peace. She didn’t awake in fear or spring up as if an electric current had pierced her body. Settled in the crook of his right arm, Harley relived the sacred moments of their passion. The sensation of his lips on her flesh filled her dreams, sending a tingle through her midsection even as she slept. In her dreams, she heard him calling her name in a hoarse whisper filled with desire. As she nestled against Abisi’s bare chest, Harley allowed sleep to overtake her as he covered her face and arms with lingeringly soft kisses.
The next morning, Harley showered quickly, applied her makeup, slipped on shorts, and pulled a tank top over her head. She then fixed her lover breakfast, humming over the coffee and toast while he showered. Years had passed since Harley had fixed breakfast for a man, and she was surprised at how happy she was to hear him turning on the faucets, trimming his beard in the bathroom mirror, and rummaging in her closet for his belongings.
Harley sat at the table with him after he’d dressed for work, munching on toast while they shared the morning newspaper. They spoke very little together while they ate and read, but Abisi caressed her hand as he perused the front page. When he stood, he lifted her hand to his lips and let it linger. The sensation of his beard against her skin sent a jolt of sexual electricity through Harley. She rose from the table and let her arms glide around his neck as Abisi let his lips caress her cheeks and then settle on her lips.
“I’m a little early for work.” He lifted her in his arms, made his way to the bedroom, and slammed the door.
An hour later, Harley and Abisi walked hand in hand to his car. He cupped her chin in his hand. “I’ll call you today.”
“I’ll be here all day. Nico and I are writing.” Harley grinned at him.
Abisi laughed and tweaked her nose. “Nico writes, too, does he?”
“Hey, he’s a smart dog.” Harley held his stare for a long time, leaned against him, and then ran her moist lips against his neck. She heard his low groan as he clasped her face in his hands and covered her lightly parted mouth with his own lips.
When they finally parted, Harley swayed on her feet, staring at him like a woman in a trance. He grinned at her and nibbled her neck. They both began giggling like teenagers. Suddenly, Harley heard a voice from the other side of the street. “Hi, Ms. Michel!”
Harley and Abisi turned to see two girls walking on the other side of the street. Both girls waved and stared. Harley leaned against her lover, not caring that they saw her.
“Your students?” Abisi ran a hand through her hair.
“Oh, yes, unfortunately.” Harley sighed but was too happy to care that the two girls had seen her in a compromising position. “One is Melissa Saltaformaggio, the daughter of my old nemesis. The other is her mean little friend Cindy.” Harley waved back at them. “I hate to talk about kids, but Cindy is meaner than a provoked snake, and Melissa gossips even more than her mother.” Harley raised her eyebrows. “I used to think that wasn’t possible.”
“Will this get you in trouble?” Abisi stared at her with concern but continued to caress her bare shoulders and gaze at her with longing.
Ignoring the staring girls, Harley kissed him long and hard. “Oh, I’ll probably be the subject of a very interesting Facebook posting, but I don’t care. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”
Late July of 2009
Harley was cleaning her house one Saturday when a chiming doorbell interrupted her. Why did someone always interrupt when she looked like the hag from hell? She was in an old ‘Make Levees, not War’ T-shirt and rumpled Capri pants. She raced into the bathroom to finger-comb her hair and apply lipstick. “Coming,” she called.
When she arrived at the front door, Nico was barking happily, wagging his tail. “Really fierce, aren’t you?”
The dog licked her leg as his tail thumped the ground.
Harley flung the door open and gasped. “Pete!”
“Hey, Harley, just dropped in to say ‘hi.’” Pete Vaughn stood before her smiling shyly.
“It-It’s good to see you.” Harley swallowed hard. Seeing Pete always st
irred up mixed emotions. He’d been John’s oldest friend and the best man at their wedding. For the past two years, Pete had been working in Vermont in an advertising agency. His wife Julie was from Vermont and encouraged him to make the move after Hurricane Katrina had ravaged the Gulf Coast. So shocked was she by his appearance that she didn’t notice the red Camaro that inched slowly down the street.
“Can I come in?” Pete looked at his feet. Steam rose to the surface as rain began pelting the ground. New Orleans was about to experience one of the many summer showers that offered respite from the heat, but that drenched pedestrians and sometimes even flooded streets.
Harley cursed her own rudeness. “Shit, I’m an idiot. Sure, come in. Nico will be really pleased to see you.” She stepped aside to let him pass into the hallway.
“Will you?” Pete knelt to rub Nico’s ears. The dog rolled onto his back to receive some more attention.
“Will I what?”
“Be pleased to see me.” Pete followed her into the kitchen.
Harley nodded. She sensed the blood rushing to her face and took a deep breath. “Of course. Coffee?”
Pete nodded, leaning against the doorframe. His gaze never left her. He was a handsome man with curly blond hair and a wiry frame. He’d always reminded Harley of a movie star from the 1960’s. The Beatle boots and black jeans suited him.
“Are you here visiting your family?” Harley put two scoops of coffee in the machine and switched it on. She remembered that he came from a large extended family. His parents lived Uptown.
“More than visiting.” Pete watched her as she poured the coffee into two mugs and spooned sugar into both.
“Milk, right?” She retrieved the milk from the refrigerator and poured it into each cup. “What do you mean by more than a visit? And how’s Julie?” Harley forced herself to ask about Pete’s wife. The woman was mousy and always gloomy, even at a party on a St. Patrick’s Day.
The Doctor and the War Widow Page 7