Because You Love Me ; Journey to My Heart

by Terra Little

  * * *

  Laurent realized Tracee was a little upset with him when he tried to make dinner plans with her for Saturday night. She was baking and meeting with Mae to work on their business plan. And Sunday after church, she would be busy working, as well. He had to admit he was beginning to crave Tracee Coleman. Just hearing her voice made a difference in his day.

  After he hung up with Tracee, he dialed Marquis. It was time to find out who his competition was and how to beat them.

  “Hey, bro, I thought you’d be back here by now,” Marquis said.

  “I thought so, too. But this deal is taking a little longer. I found out some information today that you might be able to help me with.”

  “Sure, whatever you need.”

  “Do you still have that research team that works on a twenty-four-hour turnaround?”

  “I do, what do you need?”

  “Some dirt. I found out we’re not the only one trying to purchase the hotel. What can you get me on the Stephenson Group out of Lexington, Kentucky?”

  “How soon do you need it?”

  “Is Monday morning too soon?”

  “Not at all. Leave it to me. I’ll need some information from you, so stick by the phone and I’ll have someone call you in a minute.”

  “Thanks, and do me a favor. Don’t mention this to anyone. Especially not Dad.”

  “Man, you know I wouldn’t do that. I’ll get back with you.”

  Laurent wasn’t proud of himself for calling Marquis, but he knew his big brother could be discreet and get any information he needed. Laurent never asked where the information came from, and he didn’t want to know now.

  While Laurent patiently awaited the results from Marquis, he decided to see if Tracee was really working on her Sunday evening. From the driver’s seat of the Elantra, he started to dial her number but quickly ended the call before it rang. If she was mad at him, she might tell him she was busy and hang up on him. But if he just showed up, he had a feeling he’d be welcomed. He decided to take a chance and cranked the engine.

  During the less than fifteen-minute drive, he chastised himself for what he was about to do. He’d never been the type of guy to just show up on a woman’s doorstep, but he couldn’t stay away from Tracee. When he was around her, he forgot all about business and focused on her laugh and her arresting beauty.

  He pulled up to her condo, and the lights were on inside. He hesitated after killing the engine. The last thing he wanted was for her to think his visit was all about sex. It wasn’t. Although they had been doing a lot of that lately. He just needed to see her, to smell her and to have her voice put his mind at ease.

  After he climbed out of the car, he turned the collar up on his coat. The brisk cold wind blew through his coat as if he didn’t even have it on. He rang the bell while nibbling on his bottom lip. He didn’t know what type of reception he was about to get, but he hoped it would be a warm one. After he rang the bell for a second time, the door opened.

  A skeptical-looking Tracee, with a hand on her hip, took a step back and let him in. At least she didn’t close the door in his face.

  “I just happened to be in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop in to see if you were still mad at me.” Laurent said with trepidation as he walked in behind her.

  “I was never mad at you.” She closed and locked the door behind him. “Just disappointed.” She turned around and walked toward the kitchen. “I was about to eat dinner.”

  He turned down the collar of his jacket and shook off a chill. “I thought maybe you’d let me take you out for a bite.”

  “Take your jacket off. I made chicken marsala.” She continued into the kitchen.

  Laurent shrugged out of his jacket but couldn’t take his eyes off her long legs or her curvy backside that, in black yoga pants, commanded his full attention. He realized now that he should have kept driving. He tossed his jacket on the couch and followed Tracee into the kitchen.

  She pulled a second plate from the cabinet and set it on the table.

  She’d left the Sunday paper on the counter, and he glanced down to see her beautiful face smiling back up at him. “Hey, I see that guy from the potluck got you in the paper,” he said as he picked it up to read the article.

  “Yep, that’s what he was there for.”

  Laurent ignored her attitude and finished reading the article. The story covered the monthly potluck dinners the bed-and-breakfast put on and highlighted Tracee’s Cake World. When he finished he returned the paper to the counter.

  “Wash your hands.”

  Her harsh tone in Tracee’s voice caught him off guard. She was more than disappointed. He let it go and stepped into her powder room to wash up. When he returned, she was sitting at the table with a glass of wine in her hand, swirling the white liquid around. His eyes transfixed on her glass. He’d dated enough women to know that look. He was in trouble. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, help yourself.” She pointed to the platters of chicken and green beans on the table.

  She’d already fixed her plate, and obviously waited on him. He fixed his plate, then poured himself a glass of wine. He reached for her hand to say the blessing, and to his surprise, she obliged.

  They started eating in silence. A thick cloak of tension hung in the air like a rain cloud. Tracee kept her focus on her plate. After a couple of bites, Laurent braced himself for the shoe to drop.

  “When were you going to tell me?” she asked.

  He looked up at the stony expression on her face. “Tell you what?” He had no idea what she was talking about.

  “That Martin Enterprises isn’t just the name of the company you work for, but your family’s business. That you aren’t just a branding manager, but the VP of branding and an heir, along with your two brothers, to a multimillion-dollar business. That you’re the much sought after son of Thomas Martin, founder of the exclusive Abelle hotel chain. For Christ’s sake, Laurent, your hotels have butler service, spas and art galleries in the lobby!”

  Laurent set his fork down and let her get it all out of her system.

  “You’re riding around town in an Elantra and eating at the pizzeria like it’s something you do everyday. Martin is such a common name I never put two and two together. I thought you worked for Martin Enterprises, not that you are Martin Enterprises. You carry yourself more like a middle manager than a millionaire. This isn’t your life. You’re here pretending to be somebody you’re not. But this is my life, Laurent, and that café is my future. You can play games with the Rival Hotel, but don’t play games with me!”

  “Tracee—”

  She held out her palm to stop him. “I’m not done!”

  Chapter 13

  From across the conference table, Laurent studied the crease in Mr. Patel’s brow as he read over the proposal Laurent had handed him. His rival, the Stephenson Group, wasn’t who Mr. Patel thought they were, and Laurent hoped he could see that. Martin Enterprises, on the other hand, had a stellar reputation.

  Mr. Patel slid the document to his son Arjun, on his left, while lifting his chin in Laurent’s direction. In a smooth, placating voice, he said, “I see you’ve done your homework.”

  Laurent pulled his shoulders back and felt taller and stronger than he had during their last meeting. “A good businessman always does.”

  Raji, who was sitting to Mr. Patel’s right, leaned over and whispered something in his father’s ear. Something that Laurent wished he could hear.

  “Laurent, I don’t know how you came upon this information, and I don’t think I want to know.” A stony expression took over Mr. Patel’s face. “I’ve looked into the Stephenson Group myself, and I’ve heard nothing but good things about the company. They are very familiar with Danville and our commitment to the community.” He paused and cleared his throat. “That’s
not to say I don’t have a few reservations about them, or you wouldn’t be here. However, this—” the older man broke eye contact with Laurent and tapped his index finger against the paper in front of his son “—is not California, and not the way we do business.”

  Laurent shook his head and leaned into the table. “Sir, I’m very aware of where I am. I’ve spent the last week getting to know your quaint little town and the wonderful people who live here. I’ve also gained a better understanding of what the Rival Hotel means to the community.”

  Mr. Patel pushed his chair back and slowly came to his feet. “Laurent, I have no doubt you put a lot into digging up this information, however, I feel like we’re still not on the same page. I expressed interest in a few key areas during our last meeting that I don’t think you picked up on. Getting in touch with key members of the business community would be more beneficial to you than with young women in the community.”

  Laurent exchanged eye contact with Raji, the only family member he was aware of who’d seen him with Tracee. “Sir, I assure you that any friendship I’ve developed since being here has helped me to see Danville from an insider’s perspective.”

  “I’m sure it has,” Mr. Patel said with a forced smile before placing a hand on Arjun’s shoulder. “Excuse me, but I’m not feeling so well right now, so Arjun here will have to conclude the meeting for me. If everything goes well, we may be ready to make a decision later in the week.”

  Laurent pressed his lips together in an attempt to hide the disappointment from his face. He’d hoped they’d complete the deal today. “Mr. Patel, I’m a very patient man, and I understand how important this negotiation process is to you. However, I think I’ve provided you with more than enough information to make a decision today. I would love to do business with you, but I am prepared to leave without a deal by the end of the week. You’re not the only small chain hotel we have our eyes on. Martin Enterprises is in the hotel business and only the hotel business. Unlike my competition.” As Laurent’s grandmother used to say, it was time to crap or get off the pot.

  * * *

  “So he just left the room without another word?” Thomas Martin’s voice came through the phone in a rushed tone.

  Laurent had dreaded this phone call all afternoon. After last week’s report back to his father that he hadn’t completed the deal, he’d wanted the next call to be a reason for celebration. Instead, he had to report yet another delay.

  “I made it clear that we’re prepared to walk away if a decision isn’t made soon, but Mr. Patel wasn’t feeling well, so I finished up the meeting with his sons.” Although Laurent had issued the threat, he didn’t want to walk away from this deal. This was his opportunity to have something for himself—and possibly help Tracee at the same time.

  “You played your cards correctly. Although I want that chain, I’m prepared to walk away if he wants more than the twenty percent increase we’ve offered. We’ve made an effort, and that’s all we can do.”

  Laurent had been throwing his dirty clothes in a laundry bag for the cleaners but stopped midtoss. “You’re not serious, are you?” He had been bluffing, like he’d done numerous times before. And his father seldom walked away from anything.

  “Laurent, you’ve been there for how many weeks now? I sent you because I had faith that you could work with Mr. Patel when I couldn’t. However, it seems as if the man doesn’t really want to sell his property. We’ve negotiated in good faith and had patience with him. Sometimes deals fall apart—that’s part of doing business. You can’t get too attached. Just walk away.”

  Laurent shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You can’t be serious about walking away from this one. You dangled the ownership carrot in my face and now you want to take it back? I’ve done everything within my powers to get this deal. Believe me, after he fully looks over everything I provided, he’ll be ready to sign the papers.”

  “Son, I hope so. I want this for you just as much as you want it for yourself.”

  Laurent hung up with his father and finished gathering his laundry. This trip wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d expected. Forget his Caribbean vacation—now more than anything he wanted this hotel. Although his father had told him to pack it up, he wasn’t a quitter. There was something about this deal and this town that he couldn’t walk away from. Or maybe there was a certain woman who was the reason he couldn’t walk away.

  * * *

  Tracee relaxed back into her father’s broken-in recliner, kicking the footboard out. He’d brought the chair from their old home on the farm to their newer home in the city. The seat, which had contoured to his body, always gave her a safe and comforting feeling.

  “You know Ernie says he can tell when you’ve been sitting in his chair.” Paula Coleman, Tracee’s mom, walked into the family room and sat in her chair next to Tracee and opposite the television.

  Tracee ran her hands down the arms of the soft leather chair and inhaled. “How can he tell?”

  “You leave your perfume behind. He says he can smell it a mile away.”

  Tracee’s eyes widened. “What’s he trying to say? My perfume’s that strong?”

  Paula shook her head and chuckled. “No, honey. I think it’s more that he can tell the smell of each one of his children. So, what’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing, I just got off work so I thought I’d stop by to see how you guys were doing.”

  “Well, it’s Tuesday, so your daddy’s at the brotherhood meeting at church.”

  “Oh, I forgot all about that. What time does he come home?”

  “Usually by four. So, what did you want to talk to him about?”

  Tracee glanced over at her beautiful, brilliant mother, whom she could never put anything past. “Mama, what do you do when what you thought was the beginning to a bright future starts slipping through your fingers?”

  “Baby, what’s yours is yours. If it’s meant for you, nothing can stop you from getting it. All you need is faith and patience.”

  Tracee let out a loud breath and sat up in the seat. “I’ve been patient for a long time. I want what’s mine. I’m thirty-four years old with nothing but a part-time job and a side hustle.”

  Paula tilted her head and took a deep breath. “Tracee, you have a talent for creating and decorating cakes unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Be patient, baby. Maybe God has something bigger and better in store for you. But until that day comes, stay ready.”

  “I’m trying, Mama, but Satan keeps putting up roadblocks.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Paula stood up to answer the door. “A roadblock is not a closed door. Remember that, baby.”

  Tracee’s little sister, Kyla, joined them for a late lunch. Tracee was excited to know if Kyla had been able to get any information from Raji, but she held on to her excitement until after lunch.

  “Don’t worry about the dishes, Mom, I’ll put them in the dishwasher.” Kyla stood up and grabbed her mother’s plate. “Tracee, you can get your own.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice of you,” Tracee said as she grabbed her plate and followed her sister into the kitchen. Once they were inside, Tracee handed Kyla her plate. “One more plate would have killed you?”

  “Girl, I was trying to get you alone.” After placing the saucers in the dishwasher, Kyla reached into her pants pocket. “I ran into Raji yesterday. I didn’t know if you wanted Mama to know about this or not.”

  Tracee took the folded piece of paper from her and opened it up. “The Stephenson Group in Lexington,” she read aloud.

  “Ever heard of them?” Kyla asked.

  Tracee shook her head. “No, but you’d better bet I’ll know everything there is to know about them come tomorrow morning.”

  * * *

  Tracee sat on her living room floor between the coffee table and the couch, staring into her computer screen. Beside he
r was a tablet with numerous notes she’d taken over the last couple of hours. After leaving her mom’s, she couldn’t wait to get home and start her research. The Stephenson Group was a holding company with a diverse portfolio including hotel real estate investments, financial services, automobile dealerships and asset management companies. Tracee gathered some names and switched to LinkedIn to do a more in-depth search.

  She was deep in thought when the doorbell rang. That has to be Mae. She glanced at the clock on her computer before tearing herself away to answer the door. It was five thirty, and Mae had said she’d be over right after work.

  Mae walked through the door like a businesswoman on a mission. Today was going to be a good meeting. She hadn’t gotten in good before Tracee started rambling about her findings.

  “You won’t believe what I found out this afternoon,” she said.

  “What’s that?” Mae asked.

  “The Stephenson Group. That’s the name of one of the Rival Hotel’s prospective buyers.” Tracee closed the door and motioned Mae over to the couch, where her laptop sat on the coffee table.

  “How did you find out?” Mae asked as she sat on the edge of the couch, still holding her purse.

  “I didn’t, Kyla did. She’s been friends with Raji since high school. I think he had a crush on her at one time.” Tracee resumed her seat on the floor with her back against the couch. “Anyway, I’ve been digging into this company all afternoon. They’re a holding company and they own multiple businesses. I’m trying to narrow it down to who’s in charge of the hotel acquisitions, but that’s hard. I might have to make a few phone calls.”

  “Tracee, I need to talk to you about something.”

  Tracee snapped her fingers. “Oh, and I don’t think I’ve told you about Martin Enterprises. That’s going to blow your socks off.” So much had happened in the last couple of days, Tracee was on information overload.