A Yuletide Affair

by Monica Richardson

  “What are Christmases like in Chicago?” Alyson asked.

  “Christmas trees, music and family. And food, of course.”

  “Of course,” Beverly agreed. “Your parents still alive and well, son?”

  “Yes, ma’am. My father’s a retired police officer. My mother was a housewife for many years. My father didn’t want her to work outside the home. He wanted her to devote her life to raising us.”

  “I stayed home and raised my children, too,” said Beverly. “Such a blessing to be able to do that.”

  “My wife will stay home and raise our children, too.” Jackson grabbed Jasmine’s hand and gave her a huge smile.

  “Is there something we should know?” Alyson asked.

  “No, Alyson. I’m just saying...when we decide to have children, I want Jasmine at home with them. Teaching them and loving them while I’m away working.”

  “Jasmine has a career. She has a bed-and-breakfast to run,” Alyson said. “Right, Jasmine?”

  “Well...I am sort of committed to the Grove. A lot needs to be done there,” said Jasmine.

  “But you said that you were going to scale back, and we were going to start a family right away,” Jackson attempted to whisper.

  “I know, baby, but I’m needed there more than ever now. And with Whitney deciding to stay in her teaching position for a little longer, it leaves me to handle things.”

  He lowered his voice. “But that’s not what we talked about. You were going to talk to Alyson about moving back to the islands to help out for a while.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” said Alyson. “I’m already spending more time than necessary in the Bahamas, and I have no plans of moving back here anytime soon. And furthermore, what’s wrong with Jasmine having a career? She loves the Grove.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it,” said Jackson. “It’s just that we talked about something different.”

  “Women are more than just baby makers. This is the twenty-first century. Things aren’t like they were back in the day, when our mother literally sacrificed her entire life for our father.”

  “What are you saying, Alyson?” Beverly chimed in.

  “I’m just saying that women don’t have to push their own goals and careers aside for some man. Kumbaya. We’ve overcome.”

  “I think you should stop while you’re ahead, young lady.” Beverly Talbot pointed a fork at her daughter. “Before you say something that you don’t mean.”

  “I’m just saying, Mother. Are you really happy with how your life turned out? Sacrificing your career as an educator to bear Daddy’s children? And for what?” Alyson pushed the envelope. “Don’t you ever wonder what your life would’ve been like had you followed your own dreams?”

  “Yes. And you wouldn’t be here today had I followed my own dreams, Alyson Talbot. Now let’s change the subject,” said Beverly. “Before we were distracted, Samson was telling us about his family.”

  “My mother is a fighter,” Samson said. “She was diagnosed with cancer five years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear it,” said Beverly.

  “It’s in remission now, and she’s faring very well. Her hair has grown back, and she isn’t sick as much anymore.” Samson smiled. “My brothers and I have started a fund in her honor. Each summer, we host a benefit concert, and the proceeds go toward research and education. It’s held at one of the biggest parks in Chicago, and last year we made almost five hundred thousand dollars.”

  “That’s wonderful!” said Beverly. “What’s your mother’s name, son?”

  “Antionette Steel,” Samson replied. “Everyone just calls her Toni.”

  Alyson dropped her fork. She remembered the tattoo on his arm. She felt a sense of relief that Toni was his mother and not some woman that he still had baggage with.

  “On Christmas Eve, when we gather to sing Christmas carols, we will light a candle for Toni here in the Caribbean,” said Beverly. “And all the other cancer survivors in the world.”

  Samson offered a warm smile. “Thank you. She would be so honored.”

  “Let’s have a toast,” added Edward, raising his glass of red wine. Everyone followed his lead. “To Miss Toni!”

  “To Miss Toni,” everyone chanted.

  Alyson found herself staring at Samson for the remainder of the evening. She was impressed by his love for his mother—the commitment he had for her. She thought it must’ve been hard for him, with his mother being ill. She didn’t know what she would do if her mother had cancer. For the second time in one week, Samson Steel had managed to impress her, and she was certainly seeing him in a different light.

  He caught her staring and gave her a wink. She looked away, pretended not to see it. She wasn’t sure what to do with the energy that she suddenly felt in her heart.

  Chapter 12

  Bailey rested on his leg as Samson played the music. He waited for Jackson to sing the first verse of “I Want to Come Home for Christmas.” The two bounced off each other as if dancing in step. Marvin Gaye would’ve been proud at how they brought the song to life. Beverly Talbot smiled and raised her glass in the air. The song was bittersweet and reminded her of Denny, her brave son who wasn’t afraid of anything. She hoped he would make it home in time for Christmas and for Jasmine’s wedding. It was the one gift that she wanted more than anything else.

  Edward stuffed key lime pie into his mouth and washed it down with a glass of Port wine. The entire house was quiet and they listened as Jackson sang the words to the Christmas love song. Alyson was in awe at how precise Samson played his guitar.

  Her opinion of him had changed without notice. She’d moved beyond attraction for him. Now he was tugging at her heart—a heart that had grown cold over the years. A heart that very few men had tampered with. A heart that very few people were allowed to enter. Over the years, she had become indifferent, unemotional. Emotions took too much energy, she thought. And she didn’t have any energy to spare. She’d come to believe that if she hardened her heart, life would certainly be less complicated. But suddenly her heart was softening.

  Moving to Miami had been the quickest way for her to alienate herself from a family that required her to love. The Talbots were family-oriented and loving. But she’d convinced herself that she wanted the opposite—that she was somehow undeserving of love. And she was doing a great job of staying away and burying herself in her work. Her career with the real estate firm had kept her extremely busy, and it seemed that her plan was working like a charm. But then the Grove was born, causing her to spend time on the islands again.

  In the past, her relationship with Jasmine had been rocky. And even after they’d inherited the Grove, she told herself that she would only devote some time to getting the family’s business off the ground, but she wouldn’t make amends with her sister Jasmine. Their relationship had been strained for too long. Unexpectedly, though, life had again thrown her a curveball. Jasmine had somehow worked her way back into her heart, causing her to feel again. And now she was spending more time on the island than she’d expected. But even still, she’d promised herself that she would only devote herself to the details of the wedding. Just like with the Grove, planning her sister’s wedding would be a job and nothing more. And as soon as Jasmine and Jackson said their vows, she’d go back to life as she knew it—busy and detached, and in Miami.

  “Beautiful.” Beverly clapped her hands. “Give us something else.”

  Jackson began to sing the words to “Silver Bells.” Samson fretted the strings of his guitar, and the family sang the chorus along with Jackson—mostly off-key. Though reluctant at first, Alyson joined in with her family’s Saturday evening caroling. By the time they sang the words to “This Christmas,” she’d had more fun than she would ever admit to having. Edward wrapped his arms around Alyson’s shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The two moved in unison to the music.

  At the end of the night, Alyson found herself sharing a taxi with Samson to the water ferr
y. As they arrived at the Grove, there was a sense of what do we do next in the air, and I’m not ready for this night to end.

  “How about that walk along the beach that you promised?” Samson suggested.

  “This late?”

  “The night is still young.”

  “Fine.”

  She followed him along the trail at the back of Samson Place, and down to the ocean. Samson reached for her hand, and held it tightly as they strolled along the moonlit beach. Waves crashed against the shore and played a harmonic tune. Soft Caribbean music played in the distance from the cabana. Samson moved to the music and encouraged Alyson to do the same.

  “I don’t dance,” she said.

  “Since when? I just saw you dancing at your parents’ house.”

  Reluctantly, she swayed her hips under the sound of Beres Hammond’s gentle voice. Watching her caused things to stir in Samson. He pulled her into his chest and they continued to dance. No words. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist, held her close. Soon she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

  “The last time we were at the beach, things didn’t go so well,” she reminded him.

  “Well, I’m hoping that this time will be different.” He decided to go in for a kiss, and was glad that she didn’t resist.

  His lips touched hers gently, and the kiss was much sweeter than he’d imagined. His tongue found its way into her peppermint-flavored mouth. Her French-manicured fingertips danced their way across his face, caressed it. He held on to her waist. The strength of his arms made her feel safe. Wanted. Sexy. All the things she hadn’t felt in a long time. Things she’d been too busy to feel.

  Without a single word, he grabbed her hand and led the way back to the cabana. They stopped at the bar and Samson ordered drinks for them.

  “I’ll have a Kalik beer and a cosmopolitan for the lady.”

  She loved that he ordered for her. Though she was an independent woman, she loved that he took charge. He didn’t care much about her independence. And he disregarded her attitude. Something about that turned her on. The bartender handed Samson the beer and the drink, and he carried them both inside. Alyson followed, which was something she rarely did—follow.

  Once inside the Grove, he led the way to his room and unlocked the door, and she followed him inside. He handed her the cosmopolitan, and she took a good look around at his meticulous room, everything tucked neatly in its place. She reveled in the fact that he was clean and organized, just like her. She stepped out onto the balcony and watched as the waves from the ocean bounced against the shore.

  “This room has the best view.” She came back in and took a seat on the edge of his bed.

  “Yes, it does. Your sister suggested it.”

  “Smart girl,” she said. “She has more going for herself than I ever imagined. She’s done wonders with this place in a very short time.”

  “It’s a beautiful property,” he agreed. “I understand that she needs help running the place. Why won’t you move back here to help?”

  “I made it clear to my family from the beginning. When we first learned that we’d inherited the Grove, I told them that I would not be moving back here. I have a business of my own in Miami.”

  “Right.” He smiled. He seemed so cool and calm. “The real estate company.”

  “I know it doesn’t seem like much right now, but I have a nice portfolio and it’s growing.”

  “I believe you.”

  “The right connections would transform my company in a short time.”

  “And what are the right connections?”

  “Commercial real estate,” she said matter-of-factly. “I have a client whose father is a developer. I’d like to handle a few of his properties, or his whole portfolio if he allows me. If I can just get a meeting with him.”

  “Why not stick to residential properties? Seems that would be an easier market.”

  “It’s easier and faster money, but commercial properties net more income.”

  “Why not just go work for a real estate firm that sells commercial properties?”

  “I just walked away from one of the largest firms to start my own company,” she said. “It was time. I have a degree in commercial development and finance. And I have my broker’s license. I don’t want to split my commissions. I know the game well enough that I should be able to do this on my own, and do it well.”

  “As with any new business, it takes time to build,” said Samson.

  “Absolutely.”

  “You’re not afraid of much, are you, Alyson?” He sat across from her in the Georgian-style wing chair in the corner of the room.

  She wanted to tell him that she was afraid of many things. Particularly him. He caused her the most anxiety.

  “I’m afraid of more than you know,” she said.

  He stood, grabbed her hands and pulled her up from the bed. Held her tightly in his arms. “What are you afraid of, Alyson Talbot?”

  You, she wanted to say, but resisted the urge.

  “I’m afraid of failing at something that I’ve worked so hard for.” It was partly the truth.

  “Sometimes failing is not completely bad. Especially if you learn something from it.”

  “What have you learned from failing?” she asked.

  “I’ve learned that you can always reinvent yourself. I was shamed by the scandal that went on in Chicago with the campaign. But here I am in the Bahamas, and no one knows anything about what I’ve endured in my past. And nobody cares.”

  “So you’re planning on hiding out in the Bahamas forever?”

  “I’m not hiding out, but I’m planning to stay here until I get my head together, figure out my next move.”

  “Will you run for a political office again?”

  “I doubt it. But I would go back to the DA’s office. That is an option. Or maybe I’ll stay around here for a while.”

  “Why aren’t you married with children?”

  “You sound just like my mother. She’s always asking me that.”

  “It’s a valid question. Especially for a man who’s not getting any younger,” she said. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Marrying someone I don’t love. And besides, I haven’t had one single prospect in my entire life.”

  “Maybe it’s because you love yourself too much.”

  He gave her a sideways glance. “I’m just confident. I have my flaws.”

  Thoughts of him had interrupted her sleep since the night after their almost-kiss and invaded her mind the entire next day. As much as she wanted to find something wrong with him or his flaws, as he put it, she couldn’t think of a single thing. The truth was, she admired his confidence and his heart, and she wanted to be near him.

  He removed his shirt, climbed into the bed and invited her to join him. She didn’t know why she obliged, but found herself climbing into bed with him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. His lips touched hers, and his tongue danced inside her mouth. His fingertips danced against her tender breasts.

  He raised himself up on one elbow and looked at her. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful,” she said back.

  His head relaxed against the pillow, and hers hit the pillow next to his. They both stared at the ceiling. He grabbed her hand, intertwined his fingers with hers. Kissed her fingertips. He grabbed his cell phone from his pocket, searching for something.

  “I don’t have anything Caribbean on my playlist,” he said.

  “Let’s hear what you have.”

  The music permeated the small room.

  “Who is it?”

  “Her name is Amel Larrieux.”

  Alyson grabbed his phone and looked at the photo of the female artist whose voice bounced against the walls. “Is she French?”

  “She’s from Philly.” Samson laughed. “But I think she might have some French roots. I call her my modern-day Ella Fitzgerald.”

  A puzzled look on her face, Alyson asked, “Ella Fitzgerald?”


  “Never mind,” Samson said with a laugh.

  “She has a beautiful voice,” said Alyson as she moved her head to rest on Samson’s chest. She breathed in his scent, closed her eyes and couldn’t think of a single place she’d rather have been. “You know a lot about music.”

  “It’s my first love.”

  “Not law or politics?”

  “Nope. They play second fiddle to my music.”

  “You’re a wonderful guitarist,” she said. “Why haven’t you pursued a real career?”

  “I don’t want to be a starving artist. Gotta pay the bills,” said Samson. “Besides, I don’t think my father would appreciate me squandering my education to pursue a music career. He already has a problem with the career that I chose.”

  “You spent the evening with my family,” she said. “Tell me about yours.”

  “I’m from a family of cops. My father, grandfather, my brothers.”

  “So you were the rebellious one.”

  “I’ve always been one to dance to a different beat. Needless to say, my father didn’t appreciate that. I was supposed to be a cop, in his opinion,” said Samson. “He’s a rigid man. It’s his way, or he doesn’t endorse it.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “She’s a saint.” He laughed. “But only if you don’t piss her off. Then she’s hell on wheels. She’s strong, a fighter. She’s a lot like you. She doesn’t take much shit. She would like you.”

  “You think so?” Alyson was flattered.

  “I think so.” He raised himself up onto his elbow again. “Even as difficult as you are.”

  “I’m not difficult!”

  “You are, and you know it,” said Samson, “but it’s who you are, so I don’t mind it. You amuse me.”

  “Well, I’m glad that you find me so amusing.”

  “Not in a negative way.” Samson smiled. “I love that you’re true to yourself. No guessing about where you stand.”

  “I guess not,” Alyson admitted.

  As neo soul music serenaded the couple, Alyson’s eyes became heavy. Before long she’d succumbed to a peaceful sleep.

  Samson kissed her forehead, turned off the lamp on the nightstand and closed his eyes, as well.