Monty

by Tina Martin

  Bummer…

  I leave, feigning disappointment and go downstairs to make coffee. Then I take out my notepad and get started preparing a breakfast, lunch and dinner menu for the week. As I’m sitting at the table, I hear Minnie, Naomi and Isidora talking as they make their way back to the kitchen where I am. I look up and catch their surprised gazes when they look at me.

  “Cherry!” Naomi says and wobbles over to me. She wraps both arms around my neck while I’m still sitting.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Naomi. How are you?”

  “I’m good, darlin’. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  Minnie and Isidora follow up with their own smothering hugs for me.

  “Good to see you, hun,” Minnie says.

  “Si, si. Muy Bueno,” Isidora says, smiling from ear-to-ear.

  I must admit – it feels good to be missed. I wish I was missed by Monty, too.

  “We didn’t think you were ever going to come back,” Naomi says. “Mrs. Hawthorne didn’t know, either. That woman was so worried—lawd have mercy that po’ woman.”

  “I know, but she’s better now.”

  Tying on her apron, Naomi responds, “But lemme tell you something…once she found out Mr. St. Claire was with you, she calmed right on down.”

  I smile. I don’t know why Sylvia trusts me so much, but she does. She has from the beginning when she hired me.

  “And what were you doing with Mr. St. Claire for three weeks and some change in that lil’ house of yours? Answer me that,” Naomi says. She throws a dish towel across her right shoulder.

  “I was just making sure he was okay. You know, eating properly, staying hydrated, not re-injuring himself.”

  “That was a bad accident,” Minnie said. “We didn’t think he was gon’ pull through.”

  “Yeah, it was rough,” I say, “But Mont—I mean Mr. St. Claire is a strong man with a strong mind and strong will. He can survive anything.”

  “Hey, y’all hear that,” Naomi says. “Ol’ Cherry here is on a flirt-name basis with Mr. St. Claire, or shall I say Montgomery.”

  “A flirt-name basis, Naomi?” I ask trying not to laugh. “And I didn’t say his first name.”

  “You almost said it. I heard it. You almost let it slip…makes me wonder how close y’all really got over these last few weeks.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Minnie says.

  Isidora goes about her business working.

  “Okay, it was nothing like whatever you’re thinking it was,” I say writing down his lunch for today. I get up, go to the pantry to check if there are some multi-grain muffins. I place them on the counter.

  To get Naomi and Minnie refocused on work, I say, “Hey, Naomi, go ahead and whip up Mr. St. Claire’s breakfast before he comes down here.”

  “Too late. I’m already down here.”

  His voice reverberates through me like I’m a conductor of it. I turn around to look at him. My throat goes dry. I can only muster half of a blink. His unflinching gaze is on me something fierce. He’s just staring.

  I’m staring back.

  I’m studying him for everything that looks different from when I last saw him Saturday morning. His scars are barely visible. I can only see them because I know where every one of them is located. I’m sure Naomi and Minnie won’t notice.

  He’s been to the barber. His hair is shaped up and I’m thrilled to see he’s kept some length. And the beard…

  Mmm, mmm, mmm…

  It’s lined up and cut low – trimmed black hair against caramel skin and a set of lips I remember feeling against my temple. And the khaki suit I chose for him this morning – he’s decided to wear it and it looks amazing on him. Fits his body so well. A body I know well after taking care of him.

  He’s back. Montgomery St. Claire, the man I’ve been crushing on for two years. I feel a shockwave of current electrify me in his presence. He’s the ultimate figure of masculinity and sensuality and he knows it.

  “Good morning,” he says but he’s only looking at me.

  Naomi throws a hand over her chest probably because this is the first time she’s ever heard him say a greeting. “Well, I’ll be—” she says. “Good morning, Sir. How are you this morning?”

  “I’m doing well thanks to my guardian angel.”

  He’s still looking at me. I disconnect from his gaze and say, “I’ll get you some coffee, Sir.”

  He walks over near me and says, “Hold off on the coffee for now.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Yes, Sir.” Why am I so nervous right now? I glance up at him as he’s sliding his hands inside of his pockets.

  “Cherish?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I answer, my eyes greedily feasting on his handsome face. It’s only been two days since he left but gosh I miss him. I miss him so much, it’s making me feel extremely emotional right now. I do a good job of hiding it. I think. I fight to remain professional. I’m back at work. I’m sure professionalism is what he expects of me.

  He grimaces a little. “May I have a word with you, please?”

  Did I hear him correctly? Did he ask to speak to me?

  “Um—wha—what was that, Sir?” I ask.

  “May I have a word with you, please?” he asks again and then walks out of the kitchen before I can give him an answer.

  “You hear that, Minnie,” Naomi whispers. “He wants a word with her.”

  “I heard it,” Minnie said. “Bet that ain’t all he wants…”

  “Y’all stop it,” I whisper to them. “I’m probably in trouble,” I say trying to steer them away from their current thought path.

  “Yeah, you in trouble alright. He was looking at you like he could take a bite,” Naomi says. “Guess I ain’t gotta fix him no breakfast after all.”

  “Naomi, stop it.”

  “You best to go on in there before he circles back,” Minnie says.

  I’m too nervous to laugh so I leave the kitchen to find Monty standing by the downstairs conference room with his arms crossed.

  “Hey,” I say when I’m close to him.

  “Hey.” He opens the door to the conference room, gestures for me to enter. Then he closes the door. Locks it.

  “How are you this morning?” he asks.

  “I’m fine,” I say, trying to free myself of his gaze by glancing away.

  He walks over to me and angles my head up with a nudge of his index finger. “That’s better.”

  “Um…how—how are you?” I ask.

  He lowers his hand away from my face now that he’s captured my full attention.

  “I’ve been better,” he answers.

  Immediately, I start to panic. “What’s wrong?” I ask, looking him over.

  “I didn’t get much sleep over the weekend?”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “It’s not vertigo again, is it?”

  “No. Actually, it’s all your fault.”

  “My fault?”

  “Yes, Cherish.” He cups my face in his hands. “I miss you.”

  “You do?”

  He gives me a single nod before strumming my lips with his thumb. When he licks his lips, I think I’m just about going to die. He leans down, places a gentle kiss on my trembling lips. “You don’t know how much I miss you,” he says against my lips.

  His breath smells like mint and chloroform – it’s about to render me unconscious. I’m helpless. I don’t know what to say or do. I’m in his arms. At his mercy. This man has me feeling emotions I’ve never felt before. Emotions I never thought I could feel after what happened to me.

  He places a kiss on the tip of my nose. Middle of my forehead. The area below my left ear. He whispers, “Don’t ever call me, Sir, Mr. St. Claire of anything else that sounds formal. Understood?”

  “But, Monty, I have to.”

  “No, you don’t.” His eyes are locked on my lips. Hands still caressing my face. He smells good – the aromatic smell of cologne, soap and shampo
o – has me in a tizzy.

  “I do. I don’t want the other workers thinking I’m getting special treatment,” I explain, but from the expression on his face, I know my explanation is going in one ear and out the other.

  “To be frank, I don’t care what they think.”

  The forward, arrogant side of him is emerging. He wasn’t backing down off of this. My goal was to convince him otherwise. “Monty—”

  “I love you.”

  I frown. “What?”

  “You heard me. I said I love you.”

  Tears well up in my eyes. Other than from my father – my real father – I’d never heard those words from a man’s mouth directed towards me. I try to turn away from him, but he’s still holding my head.

  “Don’t look away from me,” he says, holding me steady.

  Since I can’t move, I close my eyes, squeeze out some of the wetness, feeling tears run down my face.

  “Cherish, open your eyes and look at me.”

  I sniffle. I feel his thumbs acting as wipers for my tears.

  “Cherish, please look at me.”

  I obey him this time. More tears roll down my face when I finally open my eyes. He says, “It’ll be difficult for you to hide the fact that you love me. And I know you love me. You’ve never said it and you don’t have to say it. Your actions say it for you. I feel it when I look at you. See it in your eyes, baby. Feel it in your touch. In the way you take care of me. I want you to know that I love you the same. I’ve never been in love, but I’m in love with you and I’ve never even touched you. I don’t even know you well enough to be having these kinds of feelings for you. Never made love to you. Don’t know what our bodies feel like pressed together in passion, but I know what our spirits feel like intertwined. Feels like I’ve already made love to you. So, believe me when I say I don’t care if they know. You’re mine. You will always be mine, and I’m never letting you go. Do you hear me?”

  I nod and gasp, and gasp some more.

  “Do you love me?”

  I nod again.

  “Then, tell me.”

  My lips quiver.

  “You need some help?” he asks, flashing that super white, sexy smile. “Okay, repeat after me. Monty—”

  “Monty,” I say smiling and crying at the same time.

  “I love you,” he says, prompting me.

  “I love you.” A smile glows on my face. The tears no longer matter.

  He dips his head to kiss me again, only this time, I feel his tongue slide into my mouth.

  My knees buckle. He lifts me as effortlessly as air while we’re still kissing. His tongue explores my mouth. I don’t know if I’m doing this right – kissing that is – but he’s so dominant, I don’t need to do much but sit here and take it. And that’s what I do. I savor his tongue thinking of all the times I dreamed of this. It’s surreal.

  He takes his mouth away from me and says, “I’m going to be busy today. Really busy, so I probably won’t see you anymore, but I want you to come find me before you leave. Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “I mean it, Cherry. Don’t leave without seeing me first.”

  “Okay. I won’t,” I tell him. “And don’t pick me up again. No heavy lifting per doctor’s orders, remember?”

  “It’s not the first time I’ve picked you up with your lil’ self.”

  He takes a final kiss, pressing his lips to mine, then I exit the conference room while he remains. As I’m exiting, Major is headed in my direction, going for the conference room. He looks at me in an examining way.

  “Hey, you alright?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, sniffling. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I smile and say, “Yes. I’m sure,” but he’s not buying it since he sees evidence of crying.

  “Okay, what did my brother do to you?”

  “I didn’t do anything to her,” Monty says stepping out of the conference room. “She’s fine.”

  “Yes. I’m fine. I’ll see y’all later.”

  “Okay. See ya, Cherish,” Major tells me.

  I’m so gone in the head, I’m floating. I’ve never used drugs, but this has got to be what it feels like to be high. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get any work done like this.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Monty

  “What’s going on with Cherish?” Major asks, looking worried – more worried than I think he should be for a man who doesn’t have feelings for her. I asked him as much. He confirmed they were friends. Nothing more. Said Cherish only had eyes for me. It’s his eyes I’m concerned about.

  “Good morning,” Mother says, walking into the room.

  “Good morning,” I tell her.

  “Good morning, Ma,” Major says.

  “How does it feel to be back?” she asks.

  “It feels good. A little overwhelming, but one day at a time, right?”

  “Yep. One day at a time and one problem at a time,” Major says.

  “To give you an update on where I am physically, I should be back to one-hundred percent in about three weeks. I can work and will work every day. I’ve already started back on the taser project and I’ve been setting up meetings all week. By the way, I’ll be working at the headquarters for the rest of the week.”

  “I will, too,” Major says.

  “Good, because there’s something I want you to work on.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Hawthorne Innovations has no community involvement.”

  Mother chimes in to say, “Your father was adamant about not donating to any charities. He said they were all scams. All looking to make a profit off of people’s hard earned money.”

  “Is that what you believe?” I ask her.

  “No. Not at all. I think we should do all we can to support our community.”

  “I agree,” I tell her. “That’s why I want Major to put together a charity ball.”

  Mother’s face lights up.

  Major has the opposite reaction. Frowning, he asks, “You want to do a charity event?”

  “Yes. We can invite our clients, suppliers – not all – just about eighty or so people. Formal attire. I think the first charity should be to further cancer research. We’ll do this in honor of dad.”

  Mother nods. “He’ll be so proud.”

  “Yes, he would,” Major adds.

  “And one more thing—Cherish has taken it upon herself to look for our older brother and she’s found him. Magnus St. Claire. He lives in Charlotte.”

  Mother brings her hand to her mouth. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Me either,” I say looking at Major. “He wants to meet us on Saturday.”

  Major nods. “That’s fine with me.”

  “This is wonderful,” Mother says. “Everything seems to be falling right into place. I’m so proud of you, Monty. Of both of you.”

  “Thanks, Mother.”

  “Well, I have a call at nine that I need to get ready for, so I need to get going,” Mother says, “But keep up the excellent work.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell her. I’m glad she has to leave for a call because it gives me more time to talk to Major about Cherish.

  “I can’t believe you want to do this charity thing,” he says.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “This has Cherish’s name written all over it.”

  I smile but don’t confirm or deny.

  “The only drawback is the timing. People usually plan for events like this a year in advance,” Major points out. “You’re asking me to put together something in two weeks.”

  “You can do it. Plus, who’d want to miss a chance to mingle with the St. Claires? People have been dying to come to the estate. Well, now here’s their chance.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Ay, before you leave, I need to talk to you about something.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Cherish,” I say and look at him just to get a reactio
n. He doesn’t react.

  “What about her?” he asks.

  “Do you like her?” I probe. I need to get to the bottom of his relationship with Cherish. I don’t want any animosity between us. Our family is healing from brokenness. I don’t want to do anything to set us back.

  Major’s green eyes narrow. “You do realize we’ve had this conversation before, right?”

  “Partially.”

  Major shakes his head. “No. I recall telling you straight up that Cherish didn’t like me like that.”

  “Yes, but what about you? Do you like her like that?”

  “Why do you ask?” Major probes. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  I don’t answer – just stare back at him, waiting for him to answer my question. He doesn’t answer immediately. He leans back in his chair and takes a moment to think it through, then he says, “I’ll be honest with you. I liked her from the jump—when she first started working here and I’ve been friends with her for just as long. She’s never liked me in that way. She’s always liked you. From the beginning, she’s liked you. When I realized that, I accepted it. Accepted her as a friend. I know how she feels for you and I wouldn’t do anything to come between that.”

  I take him at his word. He has no reason to lie, I surmise.

  “But what do you plan on doing about Paige?” he asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  He looks puzzled. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Monty, but didn’t you have to sign away your life to get that money and the CEO title?”

  “I didn’t sign away my life. I—”

  “Then you must not know about the marriage clause?”

  “Mother told me. I told her to fudge it—left it up to her to handle the details. I didn’t care whose name she put on there. It doesn’t change how I feel for Cherish.”

  “I know it’s Paige,” Major says. “That’s why she throws herself at you every chance she gets.”

  “That’s funny. When I was in the hospital, bruised and battered, I don’t recall seeing her.”

  “She stopped by. One time.” Major grins.

  “And when I spent the last three weeks recovering at Cherish’s house, I didn’t get a call from her. A text message. Nothing.”

  “I’m just saying—it looks bad on paper. And I know Cherish.”