“I try to forget about that. That was before the Grove,” said Jasmine. “The Grove changed my life.”
“I have to admit that you have grown up quite a bit since the Grove. You’ve done a fantastic job with the place,” said Alyson. “I’ll be honest with you, Jazzy. I didn’t think you could pull it off.”
“I’m sure you weren’t the only hater.” Jasmine laughed and threw a napkin at her sister.
Alyson threw it back. “I’m not a hater.”
“You are,” Jasmine exclaimed. “That’s why you won’t give Samson a chance.”
“What is it with you and this fellow?” Alyson groaned. “He wants me to go to dinner with him tonight and give him another opportunity to mess things up.”
Jasmine shook her head and took another bite of white Amaretto. “Stop being a stick-in-the-mud! Love is a wonderful thing.”
“Who said anything about love? I’m talking about dinner, which I won’t be attending.”
“I think you should open your heart and be prepared for whatever comes your way.”
“Not this time. An open heart is an open door for pain.”
“Not always.”
It had been in Alyson’s life. Every man that she’d ever opened her heart to had left it broken. And she wasn’t up for taking the risk. She loved herself, and that was love enough.
Alyson changed the subject. “I like the red velvet. It’s super moist. Melts in your mouth!”
“I love the red velvet, too. It’s delicious, and also festive. Perfect for a Christmas wedding,” said Jasmine. “I think it’s a winner.”
“Good, then we’re done here.” Alyson stood. “I really need to get going. I have phone calls to make...paperwork to complete.”
“You can run along while I finish up here.” Jasmine stood and gave her sister a strong embrace. “Thanks for coming.”
“My pleasure, Jazzy,” Alyson said. “I’ll have Jules book you on my flight in the morning.”
“I’ll be packed and ready to go.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Let Samson know that you’re accepting his dinner invitation.”
“I can’t. I have too much going on.”
“Open your heart for romance.”
“Goodbye, Jazzy.” Alyson waved her sister’s comment away as she exited the bakery.
Chapter 7
The condo was a bit stuffy, having been closed up for several days. Alyson opened the kitchen window and breathed in the Miami air, then opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. She had roughly an hour to shower, dress and meet her clients at the title company in Fort Lauderdale. Their flight from the islands had been delayed, causing her entire schedule to be pushed back.
Jasmine relaxed on the sofa, the remote control in her hand as she flipped between channels.
“You’re welcome to tag along, but you’ll be bored out of your wits,” Alyson said.
“I think I’ll stay here and relax a bit.” Jasmine curled her feet beneath her bottom.
“I’ll bring lunch,” Alyson said before disappearing into the bedroom.
After dressing in a fashionable suit, she rushed to her convertible BMW, slapped her briefcase against the leather seats and affixed her Michael Kors sunglasses onto her face. She looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror, dabbed lipstick on and smacked her lips together to work it all in. She snapped her seat belt on and slid a CD into the console. The Caribbean rhythm filled the car. The convertible top eased its way down as she slowly pulled out of the parking garage. She hated being late, but could probably make up some time once she made it to the interstate, provided she could navigate through rush hour traffic.
Traffic on I-95 inched along slowly, and she leaned her head against the back of the seat. She found herself daydreaming about a certain wannabe musician, with a gorgeous smile and tattooed arms that had become surprisingly enticing to her, even though she denied her attraction to him, dismissed any possibility of spending time with him. She had shunned him and his dinner invitation. Had she gone, she would have relinquished her control. And she needed to be in control of her own destiny. It had been a while since she’d given any man the time of day.
Carl had been the last straw. He was almost her father’s age, but she’d tried not to notice the age difference. They’d shared the same interests—the theater, museums and exotic restaurants, something that most men her age weren’t at all interested in. Men her age were still partying at the South Beach clubs. Carl was different. He was laid-back and conservative. And just when she’d started to develop feelings for him, she discovered that he was still married to the mother of his grown children. His very angry wife of twenty-two years had shown up at the restaurant where they were enjoying a candlelit dinner, and accused Alyson of being a home wrecker.
It was the last time she’d let anyone into her space. There was no time or room for a relationship. Her life was overloaded with shaping a new business, all the while trying to maintain a certain lifestyle. If she didn’t grow her portfolio soon, she’d be forced to sell her beloved condo and downsize to a cheaper place. Selling the Madison property on Abaco would help her stay above water. Her real goal was to connect with Jennifer Madison’s father, who was a commercial developer. There was a larger profit in commercial properties, and she wanted a piece of it. Jennifer had promised Alyson an introduction, but an introduction didn’t guarantee a business deal. It would be left up to her to sell herself to the real estate mogul.
Her phone rang through the speakers in her car. She picked up with the click of a button on the car’s dashboard.
“It’s Alyson.”
“If you’re en route to the title company, don’t bother,” her assistant said. “The buyers can’t close.”
“What do you mean?”
“Changed their minds last minute.”
“They can’t do that!”
“They did, honey. Just got off the phone with their Realtor,” said Jules. “They don’t care about losing their escrow. They’ve decided to move to New Jersey to be closer to their grandchildren.”
Alyson sighed. “Didn’t they know they had grandchildren in Jersey before putting a contract on a home in Florida?”
“Apparently so, Alyson. But they didn’t know they wanted to live closer to them.”
“Or that they were wasting our time!” Alyson exclaimed. “Get on the phone with the sellers and schedule a time for me to meet with them. We’ve got to get this property back on the market right away. We’re losing money every moment it’s off the market. Try to schedule it as soon as possible because I’m heading back to the islands by week’s end.”
“Your afternoon is free, so I’ll try to set it up for today.”
“Thanks, Jules.” She disconnected the call.
She got off at the next exit and headed back toward Miami. She drove down Calle Ocho to Versailles, a Cuban eatery in the heart of Little Havana, to grab a café cubano and a couple of empanada pies with spinach and cheese inside. She passed on the pancakes and syrup that normally accompanied her empanadas. Watching her weight had its sacrifices. Her hips were nicely shaped, but a few too many pancakes might take them to the next level—a level that she really didn’t want to go to.
She loved Miami’s Cuban community. Little Havana reminded her of home. It was her way of having a little bit of Caribbean without actually having to return to her childhood home permanently. It was home to some of her favorite indulgences—the little eatery that sold the best Cuban sandwiches, the Latin theaters and Domino Park, where she would occasionally stop and gawk at the old men as they competed against each other in a game of dominoes. She grabbed a copy of the Miami Herald and headed back to her downtown condo.
“I brought breakfast instead of lunch,” she told Jasmine.
“What happened?” Jasmine followed her sister into the kitchen.
“My clients canceled,” she said. “I brought coffee and empanadas.”
&nb
sp; “They look and smell delightful,” said Jasmine, who didn’t hesitate to dig in.
“Enjoy!” Alyson said as she exited the kitchen.
“You’re not having any?”
“I’m watching my weight.”
“Since when?” Jasmine yelled.
“Since now!”
Lately she’d become more cognizant that her clothes were fitting a bit more snug than she wanted them to, and something needed to change. She stepped into the extra bedroom that had been transformed into a minigym, dusted off the treadmill and stepped onto it. She found an upbeat playlist on her phone and turned up the volume as loud as it would go. She took long strides, with her spandex exercise pants hugging her hips. Her mind unintentionally drifted to Samson, and how fit he was. She wasn’t sure why thoughts of him were suddenly crowding her small space, but there he was, creeping his way into her thoughts again. Although she hated to admit it, she admired his confidence.
What she exhibited to the world was poise and self-assurance, but underneath she was all but. She was afraid that she wasn’t good enough, smart enough. That she might fail at building Alyson Talbot and Associates into a successful business. She feared that she might spend the rest of her life alone because she was too rigid, too judgmental, too independent, and if she wasn’t careful, too damn fat for a man to give her a second look. She needed to feel good about herself again. She wasn’t overweight, but didn’t feel good about her body. She wanted to be fit, like her sister who worked out on a daily basis. And like Bijou, the woman whose body she secretly envied.
The Beyoncé track was interrupted by a call from Jules. She placed it on speakerphone.
“I’ve scheduled for you to meet with the Tuckers tomorrow afternoon. It’s the only time they were available.”
“That’s fine. Thanks, Jules.”
“Why are you breathing like that?” asked Jules. “You okay?”
“I’m on the treadmill.”
“You mean the one that’s been collecting dust since you bought it last year?”
“I don’t need the judgment.”
“No judgment. Do your thing, girl.” Jules chuckled.
“Whenever you’re done, let me know,” said Alyson.
“I’m done,” said a much more composed Jules.
“Good. I need you to book my sister and me a flight back to the islands tomorrow afternoon—sometime after my meeting.”
“Going back so soon? I thought you weren’t going back until the weekend.”
“Change of plans.”
“You and Jazzy going shopping for dresses?”
“Yes, sometime this afternoon. And she better find one today because I’m headed back to the Bahamas tomorrow!”
“Why the urgency? Your family dinner isn’t until Saturday.”
“I just... I need to go back,” Alyson said. “Something’s come up.”
“Fine.” Alyson could tell Jules wanted to pry, but didn’t. She knew Alyson very well. They’d been friends long enough to know when something was different. She would find out what it was soon enough. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Keep it within the budget. We’re watching every dollar.”
“I know,” said Jules. “We’ll get there, sweetie. Pretty soon, Alyson Talbot and Associates will be a household name.”
“Damn right it will! And you’ll get your old salary back.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m living with Mama right now, so my expenses are a lot less these days. My stress level is through the roof, though. That woman is hard to live with. But at least I’m saving money.”
“I appreciate you hanging in there with me.”
“Don’t mention it. I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I’m invested.”
“You’re the best.”
“I know!” Jules said with a giggle. “Now go finish pretending to exercise.”
“I am exercising. I’ve got another mile on this thing.”
“Knock yourself out.”
Jules believed in Alyson, and knew that it was just a matter of time before she was on top again. Alyson loved Jules like family. They’d met in college. A native of Miami, Jules was the first person to embrace the young girl from the Caribbean, who was away from home for the first time and knew nothing about the United States. They became instant friends. After college, Alyson landed a job at a large real estate company. Jules was an accounting major, but struggled to find work. Alyson hired her as a part-time personal assistant, just until something came along. Jules had been with her ever since.
After a few miles, Alyson hopped down from the treadmill. She took a long hot shower and slipped into her favorite pair of designer jeans—the ones that boosted her self-esteem because they hugged her in all the right places. She needed all the boosting she could get.
* * *
Later that afternoon at a local bridal shop, Jasmine stared at her own reflection in the mirror as Alyson sipped a glass of red wine. She had prepared herself for a long day of dress shopping with her indecisive sister. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Jasmine step up onto the platform wearing the soft white strapless organza gown with dramatic ruffling at the bottom. The pewter-colored ribbon hugged her sister’s small waist. She was speechless for a moment.
“What do you think, Jazzy?” Alyson finally asked.
Jasmine took her time about turning around, but finally faced her sister. She had tears in her eyes. “This is it,” she whispered softly.
“Are you sure?” asked Alyson.
“I’m sure,” said Jasmine. “This is it.”
“You look absolutely beautiful!” Alyson gave her sister a warm smile. She stepped up onto the platform and adjusted the ribbon on Jasmine’s dress. Took a quick glance at the price tag. “Damn, sixteen hundred dollars. I hope Daddy’s sitting down when you call him.”
“I thought you would make the call, Maid of Honor.”
“That was before you exceeded your budget by four hundred dollars,” said Alyson, “and that’s not really a maid of honor duty.”
“You know this is the gown, Alyson. It’s so beautiful!” Jasmine gushed.
“It is beautiful, but I’m not doing your dirty work.” Alyson pulled out her cell phone, dialed her father’s number and pushed the phone into Jasmine’s hand. “Daddy’s on the phone.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes and took the phone, rushing into the dressing room. Alyson knew their father wouldn’t put up a fuss. He would do just about anything for his children, and especially his daughters. If this was the wedding dress that Jasmine desired, she knew that it would give him great joy to buy it for her. The dress had been worth the wait, and Alyson was relieved that her sister hadn’t settled. Though she was grateful that the long search was now over.
Jasmine rushed from the dressing room, still wearing the gown. “Alyson, we have to get back to the islands. Daddy had a heart attack!”
Chapter 8
Samson knew CPR, but had only administered it one other time. When a client went into cardiac arrest right there at the courthouse, he had revived her and called for emergency help. He thought he’d have to do the same thing for Paul John Talbot. The senior member of the Talbot clan had been visiting the Grove, looking for his daughter Jasmine. Samson was having tea in the living area at Samson Place when Paul John approached him and introduced himself.
“You must be the friend of Jackson’s that I’ve heard so much about.” Paul John held out his hand.
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“Good to meet you. Have you seen either of my two daughters around here?”
“If I’m not mistaken, I believe they took a flight to Miami this morning,” said Samson.
“Miami, huh?” He laughed a little.
Samson remembered thinking that Mr. Talbot didn’t look well. He looked fatigued.
“Are you okay, sir?” he asked.
“Yes, just a little tired,” said Paul John. “I wish these girls would tell us when they’re leaving for the States. It’
s good information to know. If something happened to them, my wife and I wouldn’t know anything. Jasmine packed a bag, but I thought she was staying here at the Grove for a few days. Didn’t know she was leaving the country.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Just let them know I was here, looking for them.”
As soon as Paul John turned to leave, he grasped his chest and bent over. He grabbed the arm of a chair for balance. Samson rushed to his side and helped him to sit down. Paul John held on to his chest and seemed to experience light-headedness and shortness of breath. Samson attempted to hide the fact that he was panicking. He pulled his phone out, but wasn’t quite certain how to call for an emergency on the island.
“I’ll call the police station,” yelled Raquel, who stood nearby. “They will dispatch an ambulance.”
After making the call, Raquel rushed back to the living area. She handed Paul John two baby aspirin. “Here, take these, Mr. Talbot...chew them. It’ll help.”
He took the aspirin, stuffed them into his mouth and began to chew. Samson felt as if he was losing control, wasn’t sure what to do. He was grateful to hear the roar of the ambulance’s engine as it pulled up in front of the Grove. The emergency volunteers emerged from the vehicle, rushed inside and began medical treatment.
“We’re going to take him in. Would you like to ride?” one of the volunteers asked Samson.
He didn’t know what to say, but nodded.
“I’ll call Mrs. Talbot!” said Raquel.
Samson climbed into the back of the ambulance and took a seat right next to Paul John. As the vehicle zoomed through the streets of Harbour Island and the sirens wailed, Samson began to pray. The ride seemed long and agonizing. It felt as if they wouldn’t make it to their destination in time, and he’d witness something he wasn’t quite prepared for.
Finally the ambulance pulled up in front of the Harbour Island Ministry of Health, and the volunteers rushed Paul John inside. Samson stayed in the lobby, pacing the floor. Praying for a miracle. He pulled out his phone and dialed Jackson’s number. No answer. He left a detailed message, and then plopped down into an old chair. Dropped his face into his hands. He felt helpless and hated feeling that way. His stomach churned, and his heart began to beat a fast pace. He checked his watch, and then checked it again.
A Yuletide Affair Page 5