Edward: BBW (Members From Money Book 17)

by Katie Dowe

  Wind in my hair/Salt in the air

  Sun on the sea/Words flying free

  She played with the words in her head, letting them twirl and dance with other formations, flapping like the pages of a book. That novel she’d been planning to commit to for years had gained a few more pages. She’d actually tried cooking something for herself, though was still paying for the consequence, and was secretly praying she wouldn’t contract salmonella, and that her next cooking attempt didn’t end up with the apartment in ruins.

  Peter couldn’t cook, either, so they settled for take-outs and restaurant meals every day, or making sandwiches/toast/grilled cheese. The memory of Peter triggered a spasm of anger. She imagined Peter being with her, seeing this sight, all the people soaking up the sun, the neatly lined houses, the almost cloudless sky. Maybe she would say something about how amazing the area was. The return response would be a jab at one of the topless women, a remark about skin cancer and narcissistic, empty-headed women, and a complaint focusing on the humid, uncomfortable weather.

  I couldn’t take him anywhere without something being wrong. He sucked all the inspiration out of me. She basked in the heat, deep in thought, before taking sun tan lotion out of her bag, sitting on a bench, and liberally applying it over the exposed parts of her body. Yells of excitement from children drifted to her ears upon the light breeze. Placing the lotion on relaxed her, and drew a few odd stares from a fair-skinned woman walking past, with two children.

  Aleshia identified the look. She’d been asked numerous times why she bothered putting on lotion, because of being black. True, her color had a higher natural skin protection factor, but she could still burn. Damaging skin cells still happened from too much exposure to the sun. A great aunt of hers had died from skin cancer, believing herself immune to ultraviolet radiation.

  Stupidity cost lives. Aleshia wasn’t stupid. She put the bottle away, and sat quietly, observing all the different lives before her.

  I could get used to this, she thought. She liked being able to wear scanty clothing as well, without being stared at as if she was an alien. In Minnesota, normal meant wrapping up in sweaters and jeans every day. Summer if lucky meant risking a short-sleeved top, but otherwise, there was no reason to parade around in flip-flops, string tops and shorts. Now, Aleshia wore a blue top with the pattern of a smiling, black lined woman on it, along with khakis and sandals. No one batted an eyelid. How tempting would it be to just clack away on her laptop on the beach? Except for that one issue of getting sand stuck in the vents.

  Maybe if I stop thinking about Peter all the time, I can actually enjoy this place. She patted her belly. It was hard, though, because Peter used to be so sweet to her, so loving and charming. She kept trawling through the recesses of her mind, trying to find any huge clues of his duplicity. Any possessive moments he had could be covered up under the guise of concern and love. People also could get angry. Aleshia was no stranger to arguments shouted out in the heat of the moment, only to have those involved apologize profusely later. Her parents did it. Her friends went through many arguments with their partners. But the baby…

  It changed everything.

  She glanced back toward the condo, and saw a man looking around, hands tucked in his pockets. Despite the heat, he wore a pinstriped button shirt with a stiff collar, and cotton pants.

  Oh. Right. Aleshia scurried to the man, waving at him to arrest his attention. He spotted the movement, saw her, and delivered a dazzling smile. Aleshia checked out his features as she approached, connecting them to the deep, pleasant voice on the phone.

  “Cameron, right?” Aleshia confirmed his questioning look. “Sorry, I’m Aleshia. I wandered off because I got here earlier than expected.”

  “Hey, no problem. No problem at all.” Cameron gave Aleshia a quick once-over as he reached to shake her hand. She noticed the examination in wry amusement, and did one herself. Cameron Lovell displayed a radiant smile on faint bulldog like features, reminding Aleshia of Sean Connery in his younger days. He possessed a grizzled charm and heavy, hooded dark eyes that made him look as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Not the sort of features Aleshia imagined she would go for, but they worked well on him. The hint of muscle showed on his arms, in the way his stomach curved from his chest, like a finely sculpted Greek masterpiece.

  She had to say it. Her brain already ran through comparisons. “Your eyes.”

  Cameron Lovell paused, raising one eyebrow. “Yes? What about them?”

  Aleshia let out a small laugh. “Sorry. I was just thinking I’ve never seen eyes like yours before. I was aggressively going over descriptions in my head with how I would describe them if I wrote about it. I write,” she added, as explanation.

  Cameron followed her gush of words with interest. Rather than cut the conversation and begin the viewing of the apartment, he said, after watching Aleshia take off her sunglasses, “And how would you describe them? Are you a master poet, too?”

  “I try my hand at poetry. I wouldn’t say poems are my thing. Uh… let’s try a simile.”

  “Alright.”

  “Your eyes are wise like mountains, the peaks ground down with the weight of what you have seen.”

  The realtor nodded. “Nice. They seem wise to you?”

  “Yes. My mom would describe them as weary eyes, an old soul on a young body. She liked spiritualism.”

  “Hmm. I’m liking these descriptions. Maybe you are a writer, after all. I’m suitably impressed.” He gave a little bow to her, before pointing at the condo, silver keys dangling from his hand. “But enough. We’re distracting ourselves.”

  “When’s your next client today, then?” Aleshia stepped up behind him as he drove the key into the lock, turning his wrist.

  “Not for another three hours. We have some time to kill. I have two other letting properties on the list nearby for us to view – so we can get a taste of what it is you’re looking for.”

  Following behind the realtor, Aleshia took the time to examine the inside of the condo, with the gleaming white walls, and security cameras fixed on the ceiling. They headed to an elevator, which rested on the ground floor. Inside, a mirror faced them, and much to Cameron’s amusement, Aleshia took the time to bare her teeth in a fierce smile, and run fingers over her eyes and cheeks.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  Finishing the inspection, Aleshia brushed back wayward strands of hair, affording the realtor a sweet smile. “Sure am.” The elevator stopped at floor four. Cameron walked to hold the door open, allowing Aleshia to clop out.

  “Any particular reason you decided to preen yourself in front of the mirror?”

  “It’s something I like to do. I pull silly faces in my bathroom mirror as well.” Aleshia grinned. She debated, before relenting and giving Cameron a further explanation. “I started doing this in my last apartment. Woke up in the mornings for my job, rode the elevator down, usually empty, so I would either pull faces for the reflection or make sure I hadn’t missed anything. It was kind of my morning and evening ritual. Relaxed me.” She gave a shrug.

  “I guess I can understand that. I have a morning ritual, but it generally involves coffee and thumbing through my phone on the toilet.” Cameron answered her grin with a wicked one of his own.

  “Oh God, I do that too. Except that’s when I plan to shower but I get distracted by whatever it is that happens to be on the phone.”

  Striding up to room 4B, Cameron unlocked this one as well, keys jangling together. The door groaned open, unveiling a room of dazzling white and yellow carpets and walls. Aleshia glanced around as Cameron started the typical introductions, indicating where the lounge, kitchen, bedroom and bathrooms were with a sweep of his arm, explaining that the owners of the whole building were an elderly couple who lived in the Bahamas. At $1500 a month for a two-bedroom place, it wasn’t the cheapest, but certainly not the worst, either.

  However, even as Aleshia smiled and nodded, nothing stood out to her. It loo
ked nice, immaculately so, but it felt soulless to her. Cameron Lovell detected the disapproval in her face, saw the way she slowly inspected the rooms.

  “Not up your alley, I take it?”

  “Not really. It’s nice, but it doesn’t do it for me. I mean. I like the view. I can see it’s kept well. It’s just… missing something. Like I’m not the first person to go running to when it comes to choosing things, but I don’t think this is it.”

  “Ah, yes. Vaneese warned me about that,” Cameron said. “She told me you had the worst taste in things anyone could ever comprehend, and she wouldn’t let you touch a box of paints and color in her walls at any point.”

  “That sounds like her.”

  “Next apartment, then?”

  “Sure.” Aleshia smiled as he gently guided her back through the door, closing it behind them.

  The journey to the next place took five minutes, with Aleshia being shunted into a classic Chevrolet Impala. “Class of ’71,” Cameron stated. “Rebuilt engine and interior’s had new leather seats, but kept the body the same. My dad’s a mechanic, he loves tinkering with cars.”

  Aleshia took the time to admire the dark blue body of the car, the elongated hood, and the black upholstery inside, giving off a distinctive, leathery smell. She liked the way the seats creaked under her, the same sound her leather gloves made when she flexed them or rubbed them against her palms.

  The next apartment again offered a similar layout. The views were almost identical, the décor focused instead on greens and oranges. Pictures hung on the walls, of beautiful landscapes from around the world. Again, Aleshia didn’t feel any pull or attachment to it.

  “I’m sorry. It could be that I just won’t find anything so amazing. But I can settle for one of them, just so my sister isn’t going to keep kicking me up the ass every second until I’m near her.”

  Cameron seemed a little put out by the fact she was showing no interest. “We’ll take you to the next one. However, I fully expect to deliver you something you’ll love. It’s my job to make my clients happy, not just hoist on them something that’s kind of okay and then they throw money at me. Onward to the next property.”

  “If you say so,” Aleshia said. “I just don’t find this kind of thing interesting. My sister, now, she can spend hours in a shop. It can be hours hunting down dresses and shoes, or one afternoon picking out the perfect color to decorate her bedroom wall for the fifth time, since she likes shaking things up. I think she uses the excuse that it’s all to do with Feng Shui. Or something.”

  “Ah. Is she the type who moves the position of her bed every two weeks as well?”

  “She’s exactly that type,” Aleshia laughed, as they walked out of the building to Cameron’s Impala, once again flumping out on the seats. A glare of sunlight forced her to slide her glasses back over her eyes. She didn’t like going to the apartments and staring at them, trying to come up with comments that made her sound like she might be slightly interested in them when nothing grabbed her attention, and she would rather just go home and work on more marketing reports and that new novel she was halfway through editing for a client. However, she did like talking to Cameron. Conversation flowed easy and fresh like a sea breeze between them.

  The last place was yet another towering condo – Miami Beach saturated itself in them. They rode up to the ninth floor, and entered a huge expanse, as the whole floor was dedicated to one apartment. Aleshia liked the space. Again, she disliked the modern, sleek designs, as if everything in the interior modeling had been organized on a Lego board, with everything placed at the edges. The color scheme focused on beige, black and white. Simple, clean, spacious, well lit – and lifeless. Uniform. Entirely conventional. For $2300 a month, Aleshia didn’t think the apartment deserved it.

  “Please don’t tell me you have no interest in this one, either. Look at the kitchen. It’s huge! You can have all the room you need for some great cooking events!”

  “I don’t cook. Or I can’t. Put me in charge of a kitchen, and I’ll burn it down.”

  “Are you serious?” Cameron let out an irritated grunt. “What about the bathroom?”

  “Bad design.” Aleshia pointed out the shower and glass wall’s proximity to the toilet seat. “Bet you that will get splashed by the shower each time I attempt one. Fifteen seconds wiping down that seat is fifteen seconds of my life wasted that didn’t need to be every day.”

  “Wow. And I thought Vaneese was bad…” Cameron grinned. “Perhaps you two are related, after all.”

  “You can’t live with the Devil without obtaining some of their traits,” Aleshia agreed. “But I’m a much nicer person than her.”

  “Is there anything about this property you like? Anything at all?” Cameron took on an almost pleading tone, as they made one more circle around the apartment.

  “I like the view. I like the space. It’s nice enough, I suppose. I just find it boring.”

  “I’ll be honest,” Cameron said. “You’re probably not going to find much better design wise than this. Unless you want to consider buying a place here – then we have more properties to look at with more unique designs. If that’s a desire of yours.”

  “I don’t really know what I want,” Aleshia admitted. “And that’s the problem. I moved here more on a whim and because my sister was here, rather than because Florida happened to be my dream state.”

  “You like Miami and Miami Beach, though? How long have you been here?”

  “About three weeks.”

  “That’s not long… just moved into town, eh?” Cameron brushed his shirt, capturing small particles of dust. “How are you paying rent?”

  “Month to month. So I can leave with a fifteen day notice.”

  “Why not move in with your sister temporarily then, until you get a place?” He stood by the kitchen unit, arm leaning on the breakfast bar.

  “You have seen my sister, right? No way would I be able to concentrate on working in that household. I’m better off where I am.”

  Cameron nodded. “Alright. Makes sense. Tell you what, though. Are you interested only in rentals or would you be looking to buy as well?”

  Aleshia considered the notion for a moment.

  “For me, it doesn’t matter. I’m not sure about putting down roots so soon after coming here, but I also like the place. I really do. It’s a lot different from Minnesota. I came from Plymouth.”

  Cameron gave a low whistle. “Wow. You’ve sure come a long way. That’s a pretty drastic change. Lifestyle, climate – everything.”

  “I wanted something different. Vaneese always harped on about how amazing her life was ever since she moved to Florida. Packed it up and came here. Wanted to know someone if I was going somewhere.”

  “Of course. Maybe it will be better for you to get an apartment, then. Buying something so soon is a big move.”

  “I have enough money for a deposit and then some. I might like the idea. Getting a house.” The more Aleshia thought about it, the more she liked it. A house would be far more stable to live in, without the whims of leasers harassing her, and places where she wasn’t allowed to decorate to her whim. It would also be something stable for her child. Living near her sister, in a house she had bought, without any fear of being kicked out. Having something solid and hers beneath her toes.

  Miami and Miami Beach could be the place. She could also sell the property if she ever decided to move. Cameron observed her contemplating, and again gave her figure a sly examine. “If you need more time to think this over, we can reschedule for another time. There’s no rush. You can talk to me as well if there’s anything you’re unsure about. I can help with that, you know.”

  “Thanks.” Aleshia gave him a grateful smile. “Big decisions to make, it seems.”

  “We can meet for drinks tomorrow if you want.” He kept his tone casual, leaving no obvious inflections. “Talk more about it. Maybe it will be better to talk in a more relaxed environment than by visiting properties.”

/>   “You would do that?” Aleshia stared at him in astonishment.

  “Of course. Dijon is a friend. And I like you, so I don’t mind helping out a little extra. I’m not as busy as I could be in these months, truth be told.”

  “That would be really helpful. I need some help deciding what I want to do. I’m clueless on these matters. Still trying to figure out the next direction in my life, I guess.”

  “I know a good bar. Fairly quiet, underrated in downtown Miami. Friend of a friend owns it. Do decent food there, if you’re into Mexican spices and don’t mind the accident that happens in your intestines the next day.”

  Aleshia laughed uproariously, tilting her head back. “Oh God. I can probably survive that. Us blacks have better spice tolerance than you whites.”

  “It’s on,” Cameron grinned. He reached out a hand for another shake. “I can’t show you any other properties today – my time’s a bit pushed, now. Do you drive?”

  “Yes and no. I don’t have a car at this current moment.”

  “I can drive you part way to your home then. Unless it’s within a twenty minute drive. That’s including the traffic.”

  “Drop me by the bus stop near the bridge. Should be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

  Cameron nodded, leading Aleshia to his car. “Yep. Look forward to it.”

  Aleshia scrambled into the car, wondering about her decision. Although Cameron offered the drinks on what seemed like a purely friendly basis, and she had accepted the drinks, also on a purely friendly basis – she also knew she was opening herself up for flirtation.

  She knew she would have to tell him the truth tomorrow. About her pregnancy, the run from her former boyfriend. She didn’t relish the idea, because she enjoyed the talk they had now. However, she couldn’t lead him on. She toyed with the possibility, all the same.

  I’d be able to hide it about a month tops, before my pregnancy starts becoming obvious. She looked down at her covered belly, not yet obvious enough for people to point the finger. Fairly pointless to not mention it, when he can see for himself in a few weeks time. And, do I even want to pursue the possibility of a new relationship? She chewed her bottom lip. She would have. If she wasn’t pregnant. Cameron seemed interested in her, and it flattered her to have such attention from a handsome man.