She hurried down the staircase and through the outer door, closing it behind her. A slight gasp escaped her parted lips when she turned and saw Nathaniel standing to her left.
Her hand went to her throat. “You frightened me. I didn’t expect you to be standing there.”
But his surprise presence wasn’t the only thing causing the beat of her heart to run away—he was so blatantly sensual that it made breathing difficult. The trousers of his lightweight wool navy blue suit fit every line of his slender body and the stark contrast of the white shirt against his throat drew her gaze. The white silk tie with tiny dark blue polka dots pulled his look together. The physical characteristics he’d inherited from his African-Cuban grandmother were evident in his curly black hair, sweeping silky black eyebrows and sun-browned olive coloring.
Nathaniel went completely still. It was as if he’d stepped back in time to when he and Kendra had made the rounds of parties and fundraisers, or hosted their own soirees in their Miami Beach home.
“You’re stunnning.” There was no mistaking the awe in his voice.
Kendra lowered her gaze and flashed a demure smile. “Thank you.”
He returned her smile with a sensual one of his own. “You’re very welcome.” Reaching for her hand, Nathaniel led her over to his car, opened the passenger door and waited until she was seated and belted in before closing it. He rounded the vehicle and slipped in behind the wheel. The roadster’s powerful engine roared to life, and he shifted and maneuvered out of the restaurant’s parking lot.
A comfortable peace and quiet filled the car’s interior as he headed north. He appreciated the silence after their awkward encounter the day before. In the past there had never been a need for inane conversation between them. Although he was a year older than Kendra, Nathaniel had always felt she was more mature than he was. Perhaps it had something to do with the way he’d been raised. His mother and grandmother were off the chart when it came to being overprotective, and if he hadn’t begun to assert a modicum of independence once he entered high school he would’ve joined the family’s agribusiness instead of achieving his dream of becoming an architect.
It had been different for Kendra. She’d wanted to follow her parents’ vocation and become a teacher, and she had had their full support. He’d had to go through a period of not speaking to his grandmother because she’d exerted undue pressure on his widowed mother to coerce him into joining ColeDiz International.
He’d worked hard to prove his worth as an architect to his family, but all of that had ceased to matter when his wife had left.
“Would you like to hear some music?” Nathaniel asked.
Turning her head, Kendra regarded her ex-husband’s distinctive profile. “That would be nice—thank you.”
He pushed a button on the steering wheel and the melodious sound of a Marvin Gaye classic filled the car. He remembered. She’d grown up listening to her parents’ old Motown favorites, and she knew every word to the cross-generational songs.
“When are you going back to Florida?” Kendra asked.
Nathaniel’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “I don’t know.”
She stared, unblinking, wondering if she’d heard him correctly. “You’re staying in Chicago,” she stated.
“Yes, for a bit.”
“Where are you staying?” Kendra asked.
“I have a suite at the Palmer House.”
Kendra stared out the windshield. She felt like an interrogator firing questions but getting only vague answers in return. Nathaniel had said he wanted to talk to her—whatever it was had to be important for him to make the thirteen-hundred-mile drive from Miami to Chicago. She clamped her teeth together, vowing not to utter another question.
They arrived at Gibson’s, and Nathaniel left his car with the valet. He escorted Kendra into the restaurant popular with celebrities and the city’s business elite, pulling out her chair for her as they were seated at their table. He lingered over her head longer than necessary, inhaling the sensual scent of her perfume.
Rounding the table, he sat opposite her, his gaze sweeping over her face. He’d told Kendra that she was stunning, but the adjective hadn’t come close to describing her. She had been only twenty-two when they had met for the first time; she’d had an innocence that had appealed to his protective instincts.
He’d been driving just after dark when he spotted her at the side of the road. She’d jacked up the car and had been struggling to remove a flat tire when he’d stepped in to help her. Kendra had offered to pay him for his trouble, but he had refused the money, saying she could repay him by sharing dinner with him. They had walked over to a nearby diner and spent the next three hours talking about anything and everything. They dated for two years before he asked her to marry him. She’d accepted and a year later they’d exchanged vows. He had never looked back.
“Do you want me to order for you?” Nathaniel asked her.
“No,” Kendra said softly, “I’ll order for myself.” In the past she’d always wanted him to order for her. She peeked at him surreptitiously before returning to studying the menu. His shocked expression spoke volumes. There was no doubt he’d expected her to say yes.
“Do you mind sharing an appetizer?” he asked.
Glancing up, Kendra smiled. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’d like to try the crabmeat avocado.”
Her smile grew wider. It was her favorite. “Okay. Do you want to order the wine?”
“I’ll order a bottle of red for the two of us.”
Her eyebrows rose. “I thought you didn’t like red.”
Nathaniel winked at her. “I’ve acquired a taste for it since…”
“Since when?” she asked when he didn’t finish his statement. A beat passed and she realized he didn’t intend to answer her question. Kendra stared at a spot over his shoulder. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, Nathaniel took out an envelope and placed it on the table in front of Kendra. “I want to sell the house, but I need your signature first.”
“You want to sell the house?” Her voice was a whisper. When Nathaniel had said he’d come to Chicago on business she’d expected him to return to Florida.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Why?” Kendra felt as if someone had driven a stake through her chest. The beautiful house had been her wedding gift.
“Do you plan on living there again?”
“No…”
“That’s what I thought,” he countered. “That’s why I intend to put it on the market. My cousin Celia has already offered to buy it. She’s been living with her fiancé in his apartment, much to the chagrin of her father, who doesn’t like the fact that his daughter is shacking up before getting married.”
“When is the wedding?”
“She hasn’t set a date. But if she buys the house, she says she’ll live there alone until she’s married.”
“And where are you going to live?”
He hesitated. “I haven’t decided.”
Kendra exhaled an audible sigh. The house that had been her wedding present would now become his cousin’s gift to her husband when they married. It was fitting. She held out her hand. “Please give me a pen.” It took less than a minute for her to sign the papers necessary for Nathaniel to sell the property to Celia Cole-Thomas. “I hope Celia will be as happy there as I was.”
He leaned forward abruptly. “If you were so happy, then why did you leave?”
“I had to.”
“You didn’t have to,” Nathaniel argued softly. “If you’d stayed we would’ve worked through whatever it was that was bothering you.”
“I couldn’t stay knowing you blamed me for Natalia’s death,” she blurted.
“I never blamed you directly, Kendra, and you know it.”
“But you did indirectly,” she retorted. “We’d argued even before I gave birth to Natalia. You wanted me to stay at home like your moth
er. I overheard her tell you that if I’d been home taking care of her granddaughter instead of taking care of a classroom of twenty other children Natalia wouldn’t have drowned. When you didn’t refute her accusation I realized it was because you agreed with her.” She gave him a cold stare.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then why didn’t you tell her that?” Kendra countered.
Nathaniel closed his eyes. “I was too numbed to argue with anyone, especially my mother.” Exhaling, he opened his eyes. “We had just buried our baby, Kendra, our little girl. I was in denial—I kept thinking she wasn’t dead, that she was just sleeping, or she was away visiting your parents or your brother’s kids.” Slumping back, he dropped his gaze to his lap. “I’ll admit there were times when I thought ‘What if…’ You didn’t have to work.”
“I wanted to go back to teaching. I loved my job. I stayed home for two years, and by that time Natalia was completely potty trained and quite articulate for her age. I felt more than comfortable leaving her with a professional nanny.”
He leaned over the table, his eyes pinning Kendra from beneath lowered brows. “A ‘professional’ who neglected to close the door or lock the gate leading to the pool when she went inside the house to answer the door.” He seemed to sag. “Maybe if I had installed more safety features…”
Kendra realized she wasn’t the only one carrying around more than her share of guilt over the accidental drowning of their child. But she refused to compound that guilt with blame. “If it’s all right with you, do you mind if we change the subject?” she asked. “I’d rather not talk about the past tonight.”
The seconds ticked by as they stared at each other. “Not at all,” Nathaniel said, though that was exactly what he wanted to do. They’d finally broached the topic of their daughter’s drowning without Kendra shutting down completely. He’d felt so powerless when she had locked herself in the bedroom and hadn’t come out for hours, not even to eat. After a while he’d felt as if he’d lost the two most important people in his life—his daughter and his wife. He had to focus on the one he could get back.
Another beat passed. “Okay, Kendra. I promise not to bring up the past. What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been tutoring.” With a look of relief, she told him about the adults in the literacy program and her attempt to help a former student obtain her GED. She stopped when the waiter approached the table to take their beverage order. “Because I’m working at the restaurant,” she said, continuing, “I have to tutor Shirah online, but even that’s presenting a problem.”
Lacing his fingers together, Nathaniel angled his head. “Why is that a problem?”
“She doesn’t have access to a computer. I told her to use the ones at the local library, but most of them are reserved for the seniors. I asked my brother if he could donate an outdated computer, but he said the bank’s policy is to only give to not-for-profit organizations.
“I put in a call to the pastor to meet with him and the church officers to see if I can use their outreach auspices to accept donations of refurbished computers for under-resourced youth. If Shirah needs a computer, then I’m certain there are others who do, too. But before I put anything into place I’m going to have to research charities that are involved in this type of project and use them as a model to convince the board and the director that this can work.”
“If you need computers, then I’m willing to buy a few for you. I can always write them off as a corporate donation.”
Kendra shook her head. “No, Nathaniel. I don’t want you to do that. If it were that easy, I’d buy them myself.”
“What if I ask my cousin Diego to donate some older models he may have lying around the offices of ColeDiz?”
“I want this to begin as a grassroots project before I reach out beyond South Side. I’d like the community to step up and help their own without having to go outside for assistance. I was thinking that GCC could host fundraisers this summer to raise money to buy refurbished computers. That way, not only could we give them to someone in need, but we could also set up a computer lab.”
“It sounds like a very ambitious venture.”
Kendra’s heart stopped. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?”
“No, Kendra, I’m sure you can do it. If there’s one thing I know about you it’s that once you set your mind to do something, you succeed. What I meant was that it’s a lot to take on for one person.”
“I’m hoping I won’t have to do it alone. If the church agrees to let me use their not-for-profit status, then what I set up will become an ancillary component for GCC Outreach, including additional staff. We’ll have to come up with a name for the organization and select qualified people to oversee its operation…”
“You’re not going to run it?”
“I’ll have to be involved during the planning stages, but after it’s up and running someone else can take over.”
Nathaniel leaned forward. “Wouldn’t you want to control your project, Kendra?”
She shook her head. “It’s not about control, Nathaniel. I didn’t start this to create a job for myself. It’s about making certain students who need computers get them. And if my efforts are successful, then maybe I’ll contact other neighborhoods to help them spearhead a similar project.”
This time Nathaniel shook his head. “I still think you should wait and try to find help first.”
“My GED student cleans the homes of two of her elderly neighbors to save money for school. She’s even offered to work at Pearl’s to pay for my tutoring. The girl really wants to go to college, and she doesn’t have time to waste. I’m going to help her make it happen.”
“I’m sure you will, darling.”
Kendra didn’t visibly react to the endearment that slipped smoothly off her ex’s tongue as if they’d never been separated. She wanted to remind him that she wasn’t his wife, fiancée or even his girlfriend.
She smiled. “You know, you could help me by giving a matching donation when we host our first fundraiser.”
Nathaniel reached out, and he wasn’t disappointed when Kendra placed her hand in his. “You have my word on that.”
Their server returned with a bottle of cabernet sauvignon and two balloon wineglasses. The waiter uncorked the bottle, let it breathe, then poured a small amount into a goblet for Nathaniel to test. The sommelier appeared surprised when he handed it to Kendra.
She took a sip, holding it in her mouth for several seconds, then swallowed it. “It’s excellent.”
Waiting until the glasses were half-filled, Nathaniel lifted his in a toast. “To the future and beyond.”
Kendra touched her glass to his. “To the future and beyond,” she repeated.
They’d just taken a swallow of wine when their server reappeared carrying a plate with different cuts of steak and went through his rehearsed speech. Kendra ordered the small bone-in sirloin with a vegetable combination, while Nathaniel chose roasted prime rib with horseradish cream sauce and sautéed spinach and broccoli with olive oil and garlic.
Placing her elbow on the table, she rested her chin on the heel of her hand. “Now, you said business brought you back to Chicago. What kind of business?”
“A friend of mine asked for my input on a gentrification project.”
“Don’t you mean urban renewal?” Kendra asked.
“No. It really is a gentrification project. If I accept, then I’ll be redesigning storefronts, homes and the surrounding landscape.”
Kendra lowered her arm and looked at him, puzzled. “How were you able to get a contract for work in this city when you’re an outsider?”
Attractive lines fanned out around Nathaniel’s eyes when he smiled. “I was an outsider. Remember, I’ve been spending a lot of time lately in the Land of Lincoln.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Nathaniel.”
He grinned. “I thought I had.”
She cut her eyes at him. “What are you hiding?”
“What makes you think I’m hiding something?”
“You won’t answer my question.”
The seconds ticked off as they eyed each other. “I suppose I should tell you—you’re going to find out soon enough when the billboard goes up.”
A ripple of apprehension tore through Kendra. Nathaniel had mentioned gentrification. She had always equated the word with the wrecking ball and urban renewal—and that meant relocation of families who’d inhabited neighborhoods for generations. The wrecking ball had demolished all of the city’s public housing projects in favor of dozens of high-rise buildings. The worst loss of affordable housing had been an uninterrupted four-mile stretch in the city’s South Side.
“So tell me, Nathaniel.”
“I convinced one of my fraternity brothers to talk to his alderman father about a pet project of mine. It would provide low-interest loans to residents of neighborhoods designated for gentrification if the city agreed to upgrade the roads, streetlights and sewer systems. Longtime residents wouldn’t have to be displaced, and upgrading the exterior and interior of their homes would increase property values. I’m an architect, but I’m also an urban planner, and my personal opinion is that bulldozing buildings destroys communities.”
“How low will the interest rates be?”
“They’ll be on a sliding scale depending on family income. But they’ll probably range between two and six percent.”
Kendra’s expression brightened. “That’s really low.”
“You can’t get blood from a stone.”
“Aside from what you’ll earn on home improvement loans, what do you get out of this, Nathaniel?”
Tracing the rim of his glass with a forefinger, Nathaniel stared at the dark red liquid. “People always talk about giving back. Just say that this is my way of doing that.”
“Giving back wouldn’t apply to you,” Kendra argued softly. “You were born into wealth.”
“Nearly everyone in my family has a designated charity or foundation they contribute to, and I’ve decided Chicago’s South Side will be mine. I’ve never forgotten the hopelessness I encountered in the projects when I first lived here in the early nineties. When I heard of the Ghetto Bus Tour bringing visitors to the sites of the infamous public housing sites to view the empty dirt lots where the buildings had been, I found the whole thing appalling. They were supposed to give a voice to the homeless, but I thought guided tours of places where human beings had been crowded together like cattle or sheep was humiliating and unconscionable. That’s when I knew that if I could establish myself as an architect, I could use the money and connections to benefit my urban projects, to build up and not tear down.”
More Than Words, Volume 6 Page 26