Fire and Ice

by Carla Fredd

  Holly sighed. How could a man so dedicated and focused at work be such a total disaster in the kitchen? The least little thing could distract him. A telephone call, the instructions on the back of a carton of macaroni and cheese, and the stack of letters on the kitchen counter were the causes of his distraction.

  "You have to concentrate on cooking, Mike. Concentrate on cooking. That's all—nothing else. No phone calls, no reading the mail, nothing!"

  "Okay."

  "Now, turn on the stove." She watched him turn the knob until the flame was at its highest setting. "You don't want the hamburger to burn, so make the flame about half that height, then put the hamburger in the frying pan . . ."

  An hour later, Mike and Holly sat at his dinette table. Their meal consisted of hamburger and fries from a popular fast-food restaurant. The late-afternoon sun cast a brilliant glow in his kitchen. The smoky, acid-like smell still lingered in the room.

  "Hmmm. This burger is great. Not a charred, burned, or seared spot on it." Holly bit into her hamburger and glanced at Mike with amusement.

  "That's so low-down." Mike unwrapped his hamburger.

  "I'd really be low-down to mention that some young kid can make not one but two hamburgers and not have a burnt spot on either burger. And that same kid still had time to ask for your autograph."

  "Hey! The last hamburger wasn't bad," he said, before taking a bite of his own hamburger.

  "Okay, your last try wasn't bad, if you like them burnt on the outside and raw on the inside. How in the world did you survive before you could afford your own chef?"

  "I ate out mostly, but when I stayed home, I ate frozen dinners."

  "Yuk! That stuff tastes like Styrofoam. I'd rather not eat at all."

  "They aren't so bad, once you convince yourself that they aren't supposed to taste like the food your mother made." Mike gave her a mocking glare, then said in a snobbish tone of voice, "Your affluent upbringing is showing."

  "My affluent upbringing has nothing to do with tasteless frozen dinners. Didn't you pick up any cooking tips from your mother when you were growing up?"

  "Nope. Dinner was done by the time I got home from school. I went to private school about fifty miles away from home after the second grade."

  "You went to a private school in the second grade?" Holly waved a French fry at him in a way that reminded him of his mother shaking her finger at him when he'd done something wrong. Motherly thoughts were the last thing on his mind. He watched her take a bite of the french fry, then lick ketchup from her fingers.

  "And you talk about my affluent upbringing," she said. "So you and your brothers didn't get to know the kids in the neighborhood."

  "My brothers knew them because they went to the local school. I was the only one who didn't go."

  "Why were you the only one who didn't go to the local school?" she asked curiously.

  Mike slowly dipped a french fry into the pool of ketchup. "In the first grade, they gave us an intelligence test." He paused, then said in a slightly embarrassed tone, "I scored high on the test."

  Her eyes grew wide with surprise. "You mean, you were a boy genius?"

  "Yeah, I was a real genius," he said sheepishly.

  "What was that like?"

  "I took a lot of tests in the first couple of years." Annoyance flashed across his face. "Then there was that long, boring bus ride to school everyday."

  "It must have been hard to be separated from your brothers like that." Her eyes were filled with sympathy.

  "It wasn't so bad. My parents made sure that I kept my feet on the ground and my brothers in line. The teasing never got too far out of line. Mom and Dad wanted me to have a regular childhood, regardless."

  "What about the other kids in the neighborhood? Did they give you a hard time?"

  Mike smiled, then said, "No. I wasn't your typical gifted child. I could play ball or get into fights like the rest of the kids. After a while, my going to a different school didn't make me any different."

  "But didn't you ever want to go the same school with your brothers and your friends?"

  "I did once. In the twelfth grade, I decided that I was tired of the accelerated class and bugged my parents until they let me go to the local high school. The only problem was, I was younger than everybody in the class, and my older brother was in the same class. I didn't know how to deal with people trying to cheat off of me because nobody thought about cheating at the other school. My brother was harassed because his little brother was smarter than he was. It was a bad decision all the way around. I lasted for about three weeks, then went back to the school were I was before."

  "Oh, you poor baby." Holly could imagine him as a teenager trying to fit into a world so different than what he was accustomed to.

  Mike laughed. "Don't feel sorry for me. I milked my intelligence for all it was worth while I was there. I thought that I was showing them that I belonged when all I was doing was making my classmates feel stupid. Thirteen-year-old boys aren't known for their common sense, and I didn't have any at the time."

  Mike laughed about the incident, but she heard the trace of hurt and confusion in his voice. She knew what it was like to want to fit in, to be accepted and get rejected.

  "That's enough about me. What were you like at thirteen?"

  "Oh, please. I don't want to remember that year."

  "Why?" "That was the year that Daddy became mayor of Atlanta. It was a pretty awful time for me, following daddy around the different parts of the city . . . smiling all the time, trying to look happy to be there, when all I wanted to do was go home." Holly shuttered. "And the people. People were everywhere. I felt claustrophobic."

  "But that didn't last too long."

  "Yes, it did. There was a run-off and we had to start campaigning all over again. The worst were the reporters. Since Daddy was the first black mayor of a large city, the election got national attention and national press."

  "What was so bad about it?"

  "It's hard to pick just one thing. Maybe being in the spotlight with everyone watching. I felt like everyone was waiting for me to make a mistake. It seemed like everything I did wrong was somewhere in the paper or on the news. It would have been different if the whole family was picked on, but no one else in the family got the razzing that I did. If I had a run in my stocking, there would be a picture of me with the run showing."

  "Maybe it just seemed like they were singling you out. If the same things happened today, you might not see the press as isolating you. You're older and better able to cope with the bad press than you were at thirteen."

  "I don't know if I cope with the press any better than I did at thirteen."

  "Yes, you do. I don't think that anyone else could have handled the press better than you did when Trey got married. As a matter of fact, I think you outmaneuvered Trey when you told the reporter that you were hurt that a friend would treat you the way he did. Trey and his publicist had to forget about making his sudden marriage the love story of the century after your quote."

  Holly smiled. "He did seem mad when he was asked to respond to what I'd said. His new wife wasn't happy about the question, either."

  Mike studied her face for a moment, then nodded, as if he'd come to a decision. "Come on." He rose from the table. "There's something I want to show you."

  They walked downstairs to the lower level, where the gym and the entertainment room were located. Mike opened the double doors to the entertainment room, then stood in the doorway, blocking her entrance. "Before I show you this, you've got to promise you won't talk about this to anybody else."

  Puzzled at the earnest expression on his face, Holly agreed.

  "Make yourself comfortable on the sofa. This could take a while."

  She sat on the overstuffed sofa and watched as he pressed buttons on a wall panel. The blinds covering the windows closed and the lights dimmed until Holly could barely see Mike on the other side of the room. Mike walked toward her. She heard the sound of a motor, then reali
zed he had lowered a huge video screen. He sat down beside her, then lifted his arm as if to use a remote control device. Mike's face appeared on the screen. "Hello, I'm here to set the record straight. I did not sleep with the following women: Madonna, Whitney Houston, Cher, Robin Givens, Tracey Alexander, or Donna Ross. I don't have any children, and I am not gay. That's all I have to say." The screen was black for a moment, then there were video clips of Mike appearing on various television shows. They were a series of Mike's mistakes on film.

  "Is that you?" Holly asked with disbelief, as a shot of a much younger Mike appeared on screen. He was dressed in a shirt and tie and appeared to be reporting 'live' on a human interest segment for a local television station. The more Mike spoke, the less the guest spoke, until Mike was the only one talking. Holly was still laughing an hour later when the film ended.

  "You can stop laughing now," Mike said, using the remote control to open the blinds.

  "I can't believe you did all that. How can you get in front of a camera every night, knowing that you could totally screw up?"

  Mike turned to her, his expression serious and somber. "Everybody makes mistakes. You just learn from your mistakes, and hopefully, you won't make the same ones again. If I didn't go out there every night, I would be cheating myself. I can't let fear stop me from doing what I love."

  Holly tensed at his words. She'd had a wonderful time up until now. Was she letting fear drive her away from her business? She loved running Security Force; owning Tamp Security wouldn't be the same. Tamp Security wasn't her creation.

  Mike continued, "The one thing I've learned is that you can't run away from your problems. No matter where you go in this world, usually, your problems follow you."

  Holly felt uneasy. Mike's words touched the very thing she had feared the most: that she'd leave Atlanta and she still wouldn't have a private life. No, she wouldn't let fear or anything else stop her from leaving. If Mike tried to talk her out of leaving Atlanta, they would argue, and she didn't want to fight, but she would.

  "Hey." Mike waved his hand in front of her face. "Are you still with me? I brought two black cowboy movies. Do you want to see them?"

  While Mike loaded the movies, Holly breathe a sigh of relief. He hadn't pushed her, but she knew that it was just a matter of time before they'd have to discuss her move to Seattle and their time together would be close to an end.

  She was dangerously close to falling in love with Michael Williams, Holly thought, as she prepared for bed that evening. Mike had aroused feelings that Trey had never been able to evoke in her when they were engaged. Those feelings scared her. The tenderness, the warmth, the undeniable passion bloomed when she was with him. She turned back the comforter on her bed and lay down on the cool, white cotton sheets. It's just physical, she muttered, closing her eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, determined to ignore the doubt in her heart.

  Her eyes opened when her telephone rang a moment later. She looked at her clock before answering.

  "Hello," she said softly.

  "Where have you been, Holly?" Robert, Jr., snapped. "I've been trying to get in touch with you since last night!"

  Holly laid her head on her pillow and closed her eyes. She'd been so involved with Mike that she'd forgotten to return his call.

  "I'm sorry, Robert. I forgot to call you back."

  "We were worried about you." His irritation with her was apparent in his tone.

  "We?" she asked, dreading his answer.

  "Dad, Grandma, and I were planning to invite you out for dinner tonight. I called yesterday to see if you could come, but obviously you weren't at home."

  "No. I wasn't." A tense silence stretched between them.

  Robert broke the silence. "Where were you last night?"

  "You're on shaky ground, little brother." A steel like quality entered her tone.

  "Is everything okay, Holly?" he asked with concern.

  "Everything's fine," she said softly. "I'm sorry that I missed dinner with y'all."

  "Yeah, me, too. Goodnight, Holly."

  "Goodnight."

  Robert, Jr., hung up the telephone and sat on the edge of the bed. He was worried about her. First, she'd planned to move to Seattle and hadn't informed the family. Now, she was staying out all night. That wasn't like her at all. He'd learned from Pam this afternoon that Holly had gone out with Michael Williams last night. He had nothing against Mike Williams; he didn't know the man. Robert, Jr., grimaced. He hadn't known Trey, either, when he'd introduced him to Holly. He left his room and walked downstairs to his father's home office. It was time he and Dad had a talk.

  Mike had been summoned. There was no other way to describe the tone Holly's grandmother had used when "inviting" him to lunch the following day. Apparently, Holly and her grandmother had the same taste in restaurants. They'd both suggested the Private Room. He was informed by the waiter that Mrs. Nola Aimes was already at a table. Mike checked his watch. He was five minutes early. He followed the waiter to their table. Mike was surprised to see not only Holly's grandmother, but her father as well.

  "Mrs. Aimes, Senator."

  "Call me Nola, young man," she said, as the two men shook hands.

  "I'm glad we finally got a chance to talk," Holly's father said. "Call me Robert. 'Senator' sounds too pompous."

  "Well, now that we've gotten all the niceties settled." She leveled him with a piercing look.

  "Mama," Holly's father said with a warning tone.

  Nola ignored her son. "What are your intentions toward my granddaughter?"

  "What happened to subtlety, Mama?"

  "Robert, I'm seventy-seven years old. I might not see tomorrow. I don't have time for subtlety."

  Mike had to struggle not to smile. This sounded like an ongoing argument between the two, he thought.

  "Hush, son. This young man hasn't answered my question." She looked at Mike with expectation.

  "There you are." Jean Aimes rushed ahead of the waiter, her son trailing behind.

  "Can't do a thing in this town without the whole world knowing about it," Nola muttered, then glared at her son. "How did they know about this meeting?"

  "There are no secrets in my house, Mama."

  "Next time, come to my house," Nola said impatiently. "Hurry and sit down. Mike was just about to answer my question."

  "What was the question?" Jean asked, as she and Robert, Jr., settled in empty chairs.

  "Nola wanted to know what were my intentions toward Holly." The attention of all focused on him. He carefully chose his words before speaking. "I love Holly and I plan to be in her life for as long as she'll have me."

  Nola beamed at him. "So when are you going to marry her?"

  "Mother!"

  "Grandma!"

  "I want to know when the boy is going to marry her." She glared at her family. "Now, hush."

  Mike smiled at her. "When Holly and I decide to get married, you'll be the first to know, Nola." At first, Mike was taken aback by his words, but a sense of fulfillment replaced his surprise. It was as if his heart had known and accepted his love for her before he had ever spoken the words to himself or to Holly.

  "What's this I hear about your interview with Trey Christian?" Robert, Jr., leaned forward in his chair. "Holly's had enough bad press. She doesn't deserve any more."

  "The interview I have planned for him will be on his upcoming movie. I'd ask you the same questions if you were on my show."

  "Trey is a son-of-a ..."

  "Junior, watch your mouth."

  "Sorry." He gave his grandmother a sheepish grin before turning to Mike. The grin melted and his expression was serious. "Trey doesn't care for anybody but Trey. He's used his past relationship with Holly as a publicity stunt more than once. Holly is the one who ends up being hurt. I don't want that to happen on your show."

  "Don't worry. I'll make sure he sticks to answering my questions. If he doesn't, he'll be the one who looks like a fool."

  "I like your style, young man," Nola
said.

  With that statement, the interrogation by the Aimes family was over for Mike. Or so he thought. After lunch, the rest of the family left the restaurant.

  Holly's father hung behind. "Before you leave, Mike, I'd like a word with you."

  "Sure." Mike leaned back in his chair, waiting for the older man to speak.

  "My daughter has been through a lot this past year. Unfortunately I wasn't able . . . no, I didn't take the time to thoroughly investigate Trey before Holly was hurt. I won't make that same mistake again."

  "Robert. . ."

  The Senator held up his hand. "Let me finish. Holly means the world to me. I know sometimes she's thought that I've forgotten about her and that I love Sandra and Robert, Jr., more than I love her. That's not true. So if you have any doubts about your feelings toward her, end the relationship now. Because if you hurt her," he put his forearm on the table and leaned forward, and the pleasant politician expression was replaced by a stern 'I mean business' expression, "I'll make you wish you'd never seen the light of day."

  "I love Holly. I have no doubt about it."

  "Good. That's what I wanted to hear." He looked at his watch and stood. "I've got a meeting. It's been nice talking with you, Mike." He held out his hand.

  "Same here." They shook hands and Mike watched as the senator left. If that was his idea of a "talk," Mike thought, he'd hate to be around when he threatened somebody.

  "Will that be all, sir?" the waiter asked.

  Mike reached for his wallet and pulled out a credit card, "Yes, that's it."

  "The bill is taken care of, sir. Have a nice afternoon."

  As Mike drove to his office, he wondered if Holly realized how much her family loved her. But as much as her family loved her, he knew that Holly felt like an outsider. He'd make sure that she never had a doubt that he loved her. All he had to do was to convince her not to move to Seattle. He didn't have much time to convince her, but convince her he would.

  He had the support of her family and her best friend. A wicked smile crossed his face. He wondered how she'd react when she learned about today's lunch meeting. He picked up his car phone and began to dial her number.