A New Foundation

by Rochelle Alers

  “Yes.”

  Dom smiled, the expression softening his features to where he appeared almost boyish. “If you need me to move something just send me a text.”

  “I would if I had your number.”

  Dom walked into the library, scooped her phone off the table and entered his cell number. “Now you have it.”

  She returned his smile. “Thank you.” Dom left, closing the door behind him, and Sonja shifted her chair to face the door. She didn’t want any more walk-in surprises.

  Taylor gave his former coworker a rough hug. “You look incredible.” Robinson had shaved off his beard and his nut-brown face radiated good health.

  “I’m trying, Williamson. Let’s go because I’m anxious to see what you’re working with.”

  Taylor unlocked the doors to the Infiniti. “Let’s ride, brother.”

  Twenty-five minutes later, Taylor tapped the remote attached to the visor, and the gates protecting Bainbridge House opened smoothly. The trees lining the path to the property were in full bloom, and dappled sunlight filtered through the foliage like the brilliant diamonds in the priceless jewels that had been packed away for decades. He’d purposely kept busy to keep his mind off Sonja. The interviews had yielded results with positive prospects to fill the positions for his restoration team.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Taylor gave Robbie a sidelong glance. “What’s the matter?”

  With wide eyes, Robbie stared straight ahead. “Why does this château look as if someone picked it up from the French countryside and set it down in Jersey?”

  “That’s because someone did, Robbie. I found the original plans and discovered the château was disassembled stone by stone, stored on ships sailing across the Atlantic, then hauled up here by wagon where it was rebuilt.”

  “It is magnificent.”

  Taylor nodded, smiling. “That it is. The interior is even more impressive.”

  Robbie slowly shook his head. “I can see why you quit working for the firm. I would’ve done the same if someone left me this place.”

  “This isn’t mine alone. I share the property with my brothers and sister.”

  “From what I see, you have enough to share with dozens of brothers and sisters.”

  “What’s the expression, Robbie? Too many cooks spoil the broth. Right now it’s just me. Two years from now it will be Joaquin, and then Tariq, and finally Viola.” Taylor had said finally when he wanted to say hopefully. “I’m going to take you around the grounds before we go inside.”

  He led Robbie to the stables and barn. “We have paddocks for six horses.”

  “Do you plan to house horses on the property?”

  “Yes. My brother Tariq is a vet, and his specialty is horses.”

  “What are you going to do with the barn?” Robbie asked.

  Taylor glanced up at the rotting crossbeams. “I’m seriously thinking of demolishing and rebuilding it. There’s too much rot. I’d like your expertise when I put up another building.”

  “What do you plan to use it for?”

  “I’m going to need an additional entertainment venue. There are two ballrooms in the main house for weddings and private parties, but after I show you the blueprints, you can suggest how to reconfigure them for meeting rooms and an on-site restaurant. The new structure can be used for larger banquets.”

  “Where do you plan to rebuild it?” Robbie asked.

  “Behind the main house with an enclosed walkway connecting the two structures.”

  “Will the design conform to the château?”

  “Yes. I want it to look as if it is a part of the original design. Will that pose a problem?”

  Robbie ran a hand over his shaved pate. “Not at all. But I have to admit it will be my first time designing a château. How large do you want it?”

  “Between five-and six-thousand square feet.”

  Robbie nodded. “That’s enough room for almost two hundred people.”

  “That’s sounds about right. Let’s go inside and you’ll see what awaits you.”

  Taylor showed Robbie original copies of floor plans and blueprints of the entire property spread out on a banquet table in the larger ballroom. Robbie listened intently when he showed him his blueprint and what he’d planned for the vineyard, orchards, gardens and the golf course. He was forthcoming when voicing reservations about whether to refurbish the golf course.

  “I’d keep it, Williamson, because it’s only nine holes. If it were eighteen holes then I’d say scrap it. If you’re going to have guests come for a week or even a long weekend, some may want to play a couple of rounds.”

  Taylor smiled. “True, but if they want to exercise they can always use the health center with a workout room and the indoor pool.”

  Over the next three hours he showed Robbie the bedroom suites on the second and third floors. He explained the structural modifications he’d planned to make when removing walls and expanding more than half the suites to accommodate four to six guests in each suite. Taylor also told Robbie that he wanted to install two more elevators, bringing the total number to four.

  “What do you plan to do with the turrets?”

  “I’m still up in the air about the space. I have to confer with my brothers and sister whether they would want live up there or take up residence in the cottages.”

  “Where do you plan to live?”

  “I’ve claimed one of the cottages.”

  “Nice, Williamson,” Robbie drawled. He extended his hand. “If you want an architectural engineer, then I’m your man.”

  Taylor shook the proffered hand. “Thanks for joining the team.” He had his two architectural experts: Sonja Rios-Martin and Robinson Harris.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Taylor brushed a kiss over Sonja’s mouth when she opened the door. As promised, he’d planned to make chicken and waffles for their first Sunday brunch. “Hey, beautiful.”

  She flushed with the compliment. “Hey yourself, handsome.”

  He’d stopped by the night before and left a container of marinating chicken. He did not ask to stay over and for that Sonja was grateful. She wasn’t quite ready to take their relationship to the next level. After all, they had two years in which to get to know each other in and out of bed.

  Not having dinner together for several days had allowed her more time to devote to the contents of the trunks. She had anticipated spending hours on the project so she’d planned slow cooker meals. Beef stew and chili accompanied with salad fortified her for lunch and dinner.

  “I’ve set out the cast-iron pot and waffle iron for you.”

  “Good.” Taylor held up a small shopping bag. “I have all I need in here to make red velvet waffles.”

  Sonja moaned, smiling. “I am addicted to anything red velvet.”

  Taylor winked at her. “And I’m addicted to what I’m looking at.”

  She waved at him. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

  “It’s not flattery, muñeca. It is the truth.”

  Sonja looped her arm through his free one. “Come and feed me. I’m starved.”

  Hours later, Sonja reclined against Taylor on the sofa in the family room, her back resting against his chest. “I have a confession to make.”

  He pressed a kiss on her hair. “And that is?”

  “You were right about your chicken and waffles. They were the best I’ve ever eaten.” The chicken, drizzled with melted butter and honey, was the perfect complement to the fluffy red-hued Belgian waffles. They’d opted for freshly squeezed orange juice sans champagne as an accompanying beverage.

  “Does this mean we can do this again?”

  Tilting her chin, she smiled up at him staring down at her. “Yes. We can do this again and again for a long time to come.”

  “How long, darling?
”

  “For a very long time, papi. I’ve spent the past three days thinking about what we talked about in the château’s library. You are so different from Hugh that it’s frightening, and that’s why I wouldn’t allow myself to get close to you. But, in spite of that, I couldn’t help falling in love with you.”

  “Or I you, Sonja,” he whispered. “You just don’t know how easy it is to love you.”

  Sonja closed her eyes, realizing that what she was about to tell Taylor would change her, change them forever. “I want to know what love is, Taylor. I need you to make love to me.”

  Sonja remembered Taylor carrying her out of the family room and up the staircase to her bedroom. He took his time undressing her and then himself. She closed her eyes after he’d slipped on a condom and before she welcomed him into her embrace for their introductory dance of shared passion.

  She bit her lower lip to stop the moans of pleasure rippling through her body like currents of electricity, shocking every nerve ending as she experienced la petite mort for the first time in her life. The orgasms kept coming, overlapping one another until Sonja feared fainting.

  “I love you. I love you,” she repeated over and over until it’d become a litany. “I love you, Taylor Edward Williamson, and I will marry you and have your babies.”

  Taylor thought he was hallucinating. Passion had clouded his mind to the point that he did not know where he began or ended.

  “When, babe?”

  Sonja rubbed her leg over the back of his. “Christmas. I want a Christmas wedding at Bainbridge House in the small ballroom with just friends and family in attendance.”

  “My mother can’t be there because she’ll still be on her cruise.”

  “Then it will have to be the following Christmas.”

  Taylor supported his greater weight on his forearms as he loathed pulling out of her body. “Are you sure? We could marry before she leaves for her cruise in August.”

  “No, Taylor. I want to wait. There’s no need for us to rush anything. Didn’t you say you’re not going anywhere?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I’m also not going anywhere. I’m going to be here today, tomorrow and all the days thereafter. And the day I marry you I want us to start baby making. Meanwhile I’m going to go on birth control because I don’t want to become a baby mama before we’re married.”

  Taylor wanted to tell Sonja he had no intention of fathering a child and deserting her, married or not. He did not want to repeat the scenario of his biological parents’ fractured relationship.

  “I will protect you until then.”

  He pulled out, left the bed and went into the bathroom to discard the condom. Sonja wanted to marry the following Christmas, and that meant an eighteenth-month engagement. By that time, the extension to the château would be completed and they could hold the ceremony and reception there. Taylor returned to the bedroom and got into bed beside Sonja, who’d turned on her side. She moaned softly when he pressed his groin against her rounded hips. Resting his arm over her waist, Taylor pulled her even closer. His breathing slowed until he fell into a slumber reserved for sated lovers.

  Sonja felt as if she was existing in an alternative universe as spring gave way to summer. She and Taylor were now living together. His mother had finally sold the house where she’d raised her children and moved into her condo. Days later, she flew out to the West Coast for a reunion of her college sorority sisters, and Taylor packed up his clothes and stored them in the closet in the smaller bedroom.

  She went to Bainbridge House on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and worked from home on Tuesday and Thursdays. Cloistered behind the door in the château’s library she heard but rarely saw the workmen going about their tasks. Pickup trucks and vans lined the driveway, and several dumpsters were positioned around the house.

  Her condo’s backyard had undergone a metamorphosis with all-weather furniture, umbrellas, portable lighting, a gas grill and fire pit, and Sonja found herself, weather permitting, eating breakfast and dinner outdoors. She and Taylor grilled chicken, steak, fish, veggies, and fruit, leaving little or no cleanup in the kitchen.

  She was halfway through emptying one trunk when she found a batch of letters wrapped with a red ribbon and finally discovered who MS was. Melanie Shaw had been Charles Bainbridge’s mistress, and also a house servant and the mother of his love child. Why, she mused, were a mistress’s love letters stored with possessions where anyone might discover them?

  “Oh, my word,” she gasped when realization dawned. The property’s caretaker was a Shaw, and Sonja wondered if there was connection between Melanie and Dominic. She did not want to invade his privacy, yet the historian in her wanted and needed to uncover the truth.

  Reaching for her cell phone, she sent Dom a text asking if she could talk to him. She didn’t have to wait for his reply, and he said he would available later that afternoon to meet in the library.

  Taylor walked in the direction of the small ballroom that he’d set up as a temporary office and stopped when he heard Sonja’s voice coming from the library. The door was slightly ajar, and he was caught completely off guard when he saw Sonja in Dom’s arms. Not only wasn’t it her scheduled day to work outside the condo, but he hadn’t expected to see her embracing the caretaker.

  Taking long strides, he made his way to the ballroom and closed the pocket doors as scalding fury gripped him and he struggled to draw a normal breath. Taylor did not want to believe the woman with whom he’d fallen in love, slept beside every night and made love to was having an affair with another man. When she came in on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays he rarely saw her because she tended to work behind closed doors. However, he was aware that after she’d completed several crates Dom would return them to the cellar and bring up more.

  He paced the length of the ballroom, pounding his fist into his hand when he’d wanted to punch something hard to make him forget about the emotional pain threatening to explode into unrestrained anger. Taylor sat on the stool near the drafting table, staring at the plans he and Robbie had designed on the computer and revised several times before they were finalized and printed. He lost track of time, then stood and walked out of the ballroom to talk to Dom.

  He saw Dom kneeling near a flower bed, pulling out weeds. “We need to talk.”

  Dom rose and met his eyes. “What about?”

  “I want you to stay away from Sonja.”

  The green eyes narrowed like a cat ready to attack. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Taylor chose his words carefully. “I don’t want you anywhere around her when she’s working in the library. Meanwhile, I’ll have someone else move the crates.”

  Dom crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture mirroring defiance. “Have you forgotten that you’re not my boss? You don’t pay my salary, therefore I don’t have to take orders from you. But if you want me to stay away from Sonja, then I will. Not because you say so, but because I don’t want to make trouble for her.” Turning on his heel, he walked away, leaving Taylor staring at his back.

  Taylor cursed to himself—raw, ugly, frustrated curses because Dom was right. He wasn’t his boss, and it wasn’t incumbent upon him to pay the man’s wages, therefore he couldn’t fire him. However, he did pay Sonja; he decided to wait until later to confront her.

  Sonja couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The man she’d pledged her future to had accused her of cheating on him with another man. It was history repeating itself. “You saw something you probably shouldn’t have seen and jumped to the conclusion that I was seeing another man. Maybe you should have come into the library instead of accusing an innocent man. What happened to trust, Taylor!” She was screaming but no longer cared. “Remember I told you that I value trust over love? I believed once we agreed to live and sleep together that we would trust each other.” She threw up both hands. “You’re no diffe
rent from Hugh because he, too, didn’t trust me.” The tears she’d held at bay fell, and she backed away when Taylor attempted to touch her. “Don’t! I have to get away. Even if it is just for a few days.” She swiped angrily at the tears streaming down her face and walked over to the closet to take out a suitcase.

  “Where are you going, Sonja?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll find out when I get there.”

  There weren’t that many places she could go aside from her parents’, and her aunt and uncle’s. She thought about Viola and quickly changed her mind. Taylor was her brother, and there was no doubt she would side with him.

  She opened drawers and threw clothes in haphazardly before going into the bathroom to gather a number of personal items and products. Sonja closed the bag, grabbed her tote off the chair and went downstairs. She didn’t know if Taylor was following her as she opened the door and walked out into the late-afternoon warmth. It wasn’t until she’d left the complex that she decided to drive to her parents’ house and spend time there to clear her head.

  Sonja knew they were away, but she had the keys and the code to the house’s security system. It was almost laughable. When she left Hugh she’d run to her mother. And now she was doing it again. There was something about sitting on the porch and staring at the lake that she found therapeutic. She planned to spend the weekend there, and when she returned she would continue with her project. Once it ended she would move on to the next one.

  Taylor sat in the family room staring at the flickering images on the flat screen. Night had fallen and he hadn’t turned on any lights. If it hadn’t been for the sound of the television the house would’ve been as quiet as a tomb. He’d blown it. Jealousy had reared its ugly head, and he’d accused the woman he loved passionately of sleeping with another man. It had taken her almost two minutes to reply to his accusation, and during that time he’d felt triumphant because she hadn’t thought he knew. His victory was short-lived when she told him there was nothing going on between her and Dominic, and what he’d witnessed was a friendly hug between friends. It was when she told him he was the same as her ex-husband that it was apparent he’d done something that made her distrust him. Taylor decided to give Sonja a few days to cool off before calling her. After all, she hadn’t put enough clothes in the bag to last more than that.