by Tina Martin
“You feel better?”
“A lot better, but when I think about what happened when I met with Mr. Price today, it seems my headache is slowly coming back.”
“Why? What happened?”
“So in the will, my father requested that I live in his house for three months before I can get my inheritance. And not only that, but I have to live there with someone.”
“Who?”
“Wyatt McDowell.”
“Your old flame from high school?”
“Yes.”
“Wait...I don’t get the connection.”
“Well, there’s a big connection...Wyatt and I are still married.”
“What!” Stacey screams.
I move the phone from my ear until she’s calm again.
“I thought his mother said she took care of it,” she inquires.
“I thought she did, too, but apparently, she didn’t. So since we’re married, the money is supposed to go to the both of us. And if I don’t stay here in Winston-Salem and live in that house with Wyatt, then the money will go to a charity.”
“Oh my gosh. What did Wyatt have to say about it?”
“Oh, he was all ready to give the money to me and walk away, but when Mr. Price mentioned that we had to live together, he seemed a bit interested. I think he wants to do it.”
“Un-huh...he wants to do it alright...”
“Ugh...you’re so not helping me right now, Stacey.”
“I said it before and I’ll say it again, missy...you and Wyatt have some unfinished business to take care of. By the way, how was it seeing him again after ten years?”
“Stacey, I’m not going to lie...the man is hot with two T’s. He grew up to be such a drop dead gorgeous man. And his eyes...oh my gosh, Stacey, I almost drowned in them.”
“Dang, girl. You’re going to have to help me get a better image in my head of this man. Is he like Brad Pitt good-looking or Channing Tatum good-looking?”
“Neither. He’s handsome and sexy in his own way. He’s quite breathtaking.”
“Wow.”
“But, I’m going to stay focused. I still haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to do this yet. I have a business to run.”
“I can take care of the spa, Geneva.”
“For three months?”
“It won’t be a problem. I’ll get one of my friends to help me with the cleanup and stuff.”
“Stacey, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m volunteering.”
I smile. Stacey has always been a good friend to me.
“Hey, did you tell Darnell any of this yet?”
“Yes. I told him.”
“What did he say about the possibility of you being away for so long?”
“He just basically told me to get the money no matter what it takes.”
“Are you for real?”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s what he said.”
“And you told him about Wyatt?”
“I told him I would be staying with a guy. He doesn’t know that Wyatt and I have a history and he definitely doesn’t know that we’re still married. He hung up the phone before I could get any of that out.”
“Wow. See, that’s what I’m talking about, Geneva. Why would Darnell not have an issue with you being away for three months? And he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re going to be with a guy...”
“It’s only because he knows the money will help us out greatly. That’s why he doesn’t care about the circumstances. He’s a man, Stacey. Men don’t care about circumstances.”
“Girl, please. If it was my husband, you think he’ll allow me to live with another man for three months?”
“No.”
“Exactly. Money ain’t everything.”
“It is when you’re broke.”
“Nope. Even when you’re broke, it’s not everything. Your family, your friends...they’re everything. Money can be replaced and remade.”
“You’re right, Stacey. You’re right. My head is clouded with all of this and I...I don’t really know what to do.”
“Well, listen...you need to make a sound decision that you can live with. If you decide to stay, use the time to reflect on your life. Reflect on why your father was so angry and why he did what he did. You may find your answers now.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“Alright, well, I’ll talk to you a little later on then.”
“Alrighty. I’ll be here.”
When I hang up the phone, I see a text. There’s no name attached to it because it’s not a number I have programmed in my phone. I click to open it:
Can you meet me for dinner tonight?
I frown. My first thought was that this was Wyatt, but I needed to confirm that. So I text back:
Who is this?
After a few seconds, I see a response:
Your husband.
I roll my eyes. It was Wyatt all right… But why was he asking me out to dinner when, at Mr. Price’s office earlier, he didn’t have much of anything to say. And those piercing looks he gave me...
We have to talk, Geneva.
We don’t have to do anything. That’s what I wanted to say. Instead, I type:
Where do you want to meet?
He responds quickly with:
LongHorn Steakhouse @ 7
I glance at my watch. The time is close to 6:15 p.m. Since he wants to meet at seven, I’ll have time to spruce up my hair and makeup, change into a comfortable pair of jeans and meet him. So I reply:
Alright. Will be there.
It baffles me to think that I’m in this predicament. This awful, ridiculous nightmare has interrupted my life more than my father’s passing had. Yet and still, I realize I have to face the music and play by my father’s rules. Tonight, I’ll find out if Wyatt is willing to play, too.
CHAPTER 9
I don’t know how I managed to arrive at LongHorn Steakhouse before he did, but I’m sitting at a table watching Wyatt McDreamy, I mean McDowell, walking towards me. He has on a pair of dark blue, distressed jeans and a plaid, long-sleeved shirt. And the way he walks is as sexy as the rest of him.
I think back to the way he would walk up to me after his football practices in high school. I would smile anytime he approached me because he was special to me. But then life happened. Reality happened. His mother happened.
As he gets closer to my table, well, our table, I can’t deny the fact that he is one handsome man. Even in this restaurant, he’s turned more heads than Clay Matthews wearing a Speedo. Goodness...
I feel my face flush at the very thought of having dinner with him tonight.
He finally reaches the table and says, “Sorry I’m a little late.”
“That’s okay. I’m just glad you showed up.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“No...I...um…never mind.” I’m not accustomed to his deep voice, straightforwardness and raw, rugged sexiness. He’s definitely changed. Matured.
When the waitress comes by, not only do we go ahead and order our beverages. I also order a steak, prompting Wyatt to order one as well. I want to eat as soon as possible so I can get out of here.
The waitress walks away and he says, “So...I’m sorry about your father. I know you two didn’t have the best relationship, but I still want you to know that I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
For what seems like forever, we stare into each other’s eyes like we’re in a contest, seeing who’ll blink first. We’re reacquainting. Remembering. When I feel my heart thudding, I look away.
“Have you been by the house?” he asks.
“No.”
“I did as much as I could to help your father keep it up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I used to go over there and help him with the grass and stuff.”
I frown. “You did?”
“Yeah. I did.”
“Why?” I inquire.
“Well, I have m
y own landscaping business now.”
“So my dad hired you?”
“No. I volunteered.”
I nod and glance around the place, watching other people and couples share dinner. They’re laughing, having a good time and meanwhile, I’m nervous and uncomfortable. I hate this feeling.
“Your father missed you, you know,” Wyatt says.
“Sure he did,” I respond in a grumble.
“No, really. He did, Geneva.”
“And what part did he miss the most? Using me for a slave? Or a punching bag when he was in a drunken stupor?”
Wyatt’s chest rose in and out quickly and I watch him frown as his face turns a shade of red. “You told me he never struck you.”
I close my eyes tight and will myself not to cry. “Let’s just deal with the issue at hand. Do you think that us living in this house for three months is a good idea or not?”
After a long pause, he says, “I don’t know, Geneva. What does your fiancé have to say about it? I’m sure you talked to him already, right?”
The way he said fiancé suggests that the very thought of me having a fiancé irks him. “He didn’t have a problem with it,” I respond.
“Really?” he asks, taking a sip of water afterwards.
“Yeah, really. Why?”
“Because there’s no way I would let a woman that I love live with another man. But hey, that’s just me.”
How do I respond to that? I can’t even offer any defense to support Darnell because I agree with Wyatt. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that if I don’t do what my father has outlined in his will, then my inheritance is going to some charity.
“Are you going to do it or not, Wyatt?” I ask him, because if he’s not going to cooperate, then there’s no need in having this discussion. I may as well pack up and go on back to Atlanta and work in my struggling, soon-to-go-out-of-business spa.
“Do you want me to do it, Geneva?” He stares again, more focused on my lips this time.
“Yes. I want you to do it. After everything I’ve been through with my father, I deserve an inheritance.”
He nods. “Then it’s settled.”
When the food arrives, we eat quietly, glancing up at each other every now and again. Each time our eyes meet, I feel a flutter in my lower belly. And even lower...
He decides to end the awkwardness between us by initiating small talk. “So you live in Atlanta?”
“Yep.”
“What about children? Have any?”
“No. You?”
“Nope. No children for me,” he says, then takes a sip of water. “What do you do in Atlanta?”
“I own and operate a spa.”
“Interesting.”
After taking a sip of sweet tea, I place the glass back on the table and ask, “Why is that interesting?”
“Because that’s not the field you wanted to go in. You wanted to be a teacher.”
I smile at the thought of that. “I did want to be a teacher...”
“What happened to your dreams?”
“They went in a different direction, Wyatt. Things change. People change.”
“Yeah. I know that all too well, Geneva,” he says, zeroing in on me again, even as he moves the fork to his mouth.
I pick up a bottle of A-1 sauce and pour a little of it in my plate. With every move I make, I feel Wyatt’s eyes on me. Stalking me. For the first time in my life, I wish I had the power to read another person’s mind so that I can know what he’s thinking. I could listen to his thoughts and learn what he thinks of me right now, at this precise moment.
“Why did you leave me?” he questions.
The way the question comes out sounds like he needs an answer...like he needs closure so that he could put it all behind him. After ten years, I didn’t think closure would be an issue, especially for a man. Men are usually the ones who bounce back quicker than women. Who can easily forget a woman, especially one who hurt them. I guess such isn’t the case this time.
I pull in a deep breath, watch him wipe his mouth with a napkin and respond with, “It was easier that way.”
He frowns. “What was easier?”
I promised myself that I would never tell Wyatt what his mother did to me. So I tried to finagle my way out of this one by answering, “Running away from my father was easier.”
His frown deepens. “But, in turn, you ran away from me, too. Was I not there for you when your father was out of control and being a tyrant?”
“You were, but—”
“But it didn’t mean a thing to you, right, because when we went to that courthouse and got married, you already knew in your mind that you wouldn’t stick around.”
“Wyatt, please...I can’t go there with you, okay. I can’t.”
He forces an eerie smile to ease the wrath settling in his eyes. “Did you ever really love me?”
“Wyatt, I—”
“A simple yes, or no will suffice.”
I hold his gaze for longer than I should then respond, “Whether I did or not is not relevant to why we’re here.”
He looks at me with challenging, arrogant eyes, and then a smirk appears on his face. “We’re going to be living together for three months. I’ll have plenty of time to get the truth out of you, Geneva. Plenty of time.”
What did I do to deserve this? I wanted to run to my car and drive back to Atlanta as fast as the speed limits would allow. But I couldn’t run away again. It was time to face the music, even if the tune sucked.
CHAPTER 10
The next day, we’re back in Mr. Price’s office. Wyatt is sitting across from me, looking handsome in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved navy blue Polo shirt that, like the shirt he had on yesterday, easily shows off the outline of his impressive chest. With his elbows resting on the table and his fingers interlocked, he’s back to staring at me again, probably reminiscing.
I’m doing some reminiscing of my own because, like a few nights ago, I had another dream about him last night. I could vividly see us in bed together, when we were eighteen and in love, making love for the first time. I close my eyes briefly and can recall the way he felt inside of me. I remember him telling me that he loved me. Remember crying. I think we both cried that night.
“Geneva, are you with us?” Mr. Price asks, cutting into my thoughts.
I quickly blink several times. I’d completely forgotten I was sitting in an office for a moment. “Yes. I’m sorry. My mind was someplace else.”
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Mr. Price says, “But I still need to make all of this official with your signatures.”
“Of course. Where do I sign?”
He slid some papers over to me, showed me where to sign them and after I scan over them briefly, I sign each one. Then he hands the papers to Wyatt for him to sign as well.
Mr. Price opens his desk drawer and hands me a set of keys. “These are all of your father’s keys – for the house, the gates, the cars and the storage units. There’s an extra set on there for Mr. McDowell as well.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“And remember...it was your father’s wish to be cremated and that’s scheduled for tonight. If you want to see the body, you’ll need to go to the funeral home today.”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to see the body.”
Wyatt squints at me.
“Alright, then you can get an early jump on moving in the house,” Mr. Price says. “The official contract start date is Friday.”
“Okay,” I say, but I still can’t believe I did this. And I can’t believe that Darnell didn’t have a problem with it.
“Do either of you have any questions?” Mr. Price asks.
“I don’t,” I say.
“Neither do I,” Wyatt responds.
I notice that Wyatt hasn’t said much today. He was probably too busy thinking about last night. About the reason why I left Winston-Salem for good and how he said that he had three months to get the truth out of me.
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“Well, in that case, we’re done here for now. Goodbye and good luck.”
I stand up and walk away quickly, finding my way easily to the entrance of the building. As I press the unlock button on my keychain remote I see Wyatt via my peripherals walking up behind me at a swift pace. I don’t turn to look at him. In fact, I pretend not to see him so I could get in my car, lock the doors and…
“Geneva,” he calls out as I’m about to take a seat.
So close, yet so far. “Yes?”
“You’re not going to the house right now, are you?”
“Hadn’t planned on it, but what if I was?”
“Then I would go with you. I don’t want you there alone.”
I snap my head back. I think I understand Wyatt’s problem now. He still sees us as those young, inexperienced, eighteen-year-old teenagers. I can sense it by his sudden need to protect me. He was the same way back then. “Wyatt, I’m capable of going there alone.”
“Really? After ten years, Geneva?”
“Yes. After ten years. I’m not that eighteen-year-old girl anymore, Wyatt. I’m a grown woman.”
He chuckles and says, “Alright, then, grown woman,” and walks away.
* * *
As I lie in bed at my hotel room, I fight the urge to go to my father’s house tonight. Something seems to be pulling me there, like I needed to be there this instant. Going there now would probably be the first time I would ever feel comfortable there, especially since no one would be there to torture me.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s a little after 10:00 p.m. I get up quickly, slip into the same blouse and jeans that I had on earlier and drive to my father’s house on a whim.
