Man of Fate

by Rochelle Alers

  “Get me anything that’s non-alcoholic and carbonated. Never mind. I’ll go with you and I’ll introduce you to my date.” Dropping an arm over Duncan’s shoulder, he steered him over to Ava and Ivan.

  Ava caught the scent of Kyle’s cologne even before she turned around. “Hey,” she said, smiling.

  Dipping his head, he dropped a kiss on her expertly coiffed hair. “I want to introduce you to Duncan.”

  Ava purposefully averted her gaze from the incredibly beautiful man staring at her as if she were a frothy confection. She’d heard women talk about “pretty brothers” and Duncan was exactly that and then some.

  She extended her hand. “Ava Warrick.”

  Duncan took her hand, squeezing it gently. “Duncan Gilmore.”

  Kyle splayed his hand over her back in a proprietary gesture that wasn’t lost on his two friends. “Are you ready to eat?”

  “What’s on the menu?” Ava asked.

  “We’re going to start with the ubiquitous hamburgers and franks, then later on I’m going to broil some steaks.”

  She smiled up at Kyle. “I’ll have a cheeseburger.”

  “Do you want the cheese on or in the burger?”

  “We have a choice?” Ivan asked.

  Kyle gave his non-grilling friend a pointed look. “Of course you have a choice. Why kind of cheese do you want, sweetheart?”

  “I’ll have blue cheese,” Ivan said quickly.

  “I wasn’t talking to you, Ivan,” Kyle growled between clenched teeth. “And there’s no way in hell you could ever be my sweetheart. Especially not with that stubble on your face.”

  Ava laughed along with the three friends. They shared a camaraderie that made them as close as or closer than brothers. “I’ll also have one with blue cheese, darling.”

  Kyle brandished a fist at his friends. “If either one of you answers to that I’m going to knock you out.”

  “There’s no need for hostility, my brother,” Ivan crooned.

  “Preach, my brother,” Duncan intoned in an exaggerated baritone.

  Their antics set the stage for an afternoon and evening of frivolity. People crowded into the backyard to eat, drink, trade stories and listen to music. Kyle demonstrated his culinary skills when he grilled burgers and steaks to order. Ava marveled that he knew exactly how much time it took to cook a burger to rare, medium-rare and well-done perfection though flipping each only once.

  Trays of potato salad, coleslaw and deviled eggs, and platters of fresh fruit and vegetable salads were devoured quickly, and what wasn’t eaten was packed in takeout containers. Ava’s red velvet cookies were a big hit, along with slices of Cake Man Raven’s carrot cake.

  It was close to nine when she found a chaise, collapsing into its softness. The DJ had lowered the music and the repertoire of slow jams lulled her into a state of total relaxation. She’d just dozed off when she felt the crush of a hard body next to her.

  “Kyle?”

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t think I can move.”

  “Why?”

  “I ate and drank too much.”

  “What were you drinking?” he whispered close to her ear.

  “Whiskey sours.”

  “That’s a frou-frou drink. It goes down like Kool-Aid.”

  She smiled. “A very potent Kool-Aid.”

  “How many did you have?”

  “Three.”

  “Three drinks over eight hours shouldn’t have you out of sorts.”

  “I’m a cheap drunk, Kyle.”

  He chuckled softly. “I’ll remember when I attempt to seduce you.”

  Ava opened her eyes. “You don’t have to get me drunk to seduce me.”

  Kyle raised his head, meeting her resolute gaze in the glow of spotlights ringing the property. “I’ll remember that, too.”

  “I’m ready to go home whenever you are.”

  Lowering his head, Kyle nuzzled the side of her neck. “Do you want to come for a sleepover tonight?”

  Ava hesitated because she didn’t want her time with Kyle to end, yet she knew that staying over would lead to things she wasn’t ready for. She wasn’t a prude but she knew jumping into bed too soon was the number-one mistake most women make. She wanted to wait, because she wanted to know if what she felt for Kyle was more than infatuation—gonads calling out to each other.

  “Not tonight.”

  Kyle kissed her ear. “I’ll take you home now.”

  “You’re not upset?”

  A slight frown creased his smooth forehead. “Of course not. If you don’t feel comfortable sleeping at my place, then that’s something I’m going to have to accept.”

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, Ava pulled his head down. “I am really getting to like you, Kyle Chatham. I suppose I shouldn’t say things like that or you’ll get a swelled head.”

  “Which head are you talking about, sweetheart?”

  Ava gasped. “Oh! You are so nasty!”

  “And you’re not?” he teased.

  “Not as nasty as you.”

  “That’s debatable, Ava.”

  “Take me home before you say something unforgivable.”

  Kyle pantomimed zipping his lips. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the chaise, then extended his hand to pull her up. They said their goodbyes to Ivan and Duncan who were in deep conversation with several women who lived in a neighboring brownstone.

  The ride across town was accomplished in complete silence and when Ava closed the door behind Kyle she knew he truly was special.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ava was sitting in her office, reading through a week of correspondence when the telephone rang. She picked up the receiver after the second ring. “Miss Warrick.”

  “Miss Warrick, this is Mrs. Walcott.”

  She put aside the minutes from last month’s staff meeting to give her client her undivided attention. “How are you today?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Warrick.” A sob came through the earpiece. “I know I’m not scheduled to meet with you until Thursday, but can you see me today?”

  Doreen Walcott had come to the New Lincoln Family Center after her husband ended their eight-year marriage to move in with his secretary, leaving Doreen to care for their three young children. Although her ex-husband provided financial support for his sons, he’d waived his rights for visitation. After she’d been evaluated, Doreen was scheduled for two individual and two group sessions each month.

  Ava checked her planner. “I wouldn’t be able to see you until four.”

  “But I have to pick the children up from school.”

  “Can’t you let your housekeeper pick up the children?”

  “My babies look for me to pick them up, not my maid.”

  “You can’t have it both ways, Ms. Walcott.”

  “It’s Mrs. Walcott, not Ms.”

  “Do you want to see me at four, or do you want to wait until Thursday?”

  “I’ll see you at four.”

  Ava smiled. “Please try not to be late.”

  The former high-school homecoming queen had been spoiled and pampered by her father, and her husband had continued the practice until he tired of her whining and immature behavior. His constant plea for her to grow up had fallen on deaf ears until one day he’d had enough and had begun coming home later and later until he stopped coming home altogether. Ava had assigned Doreen to a parenting group because of her inability to cope with being a single parent. She ended the call and went back to reading.

  She’d slept late on Sunday, and when she woke with a headache Ava knew the cause: the whiskey sours. When she finally got her bearings, she called her sister, mother and father. Aisha complained that she felt and looked like a beached whale, and that she refused to look at a mirror even when styling her hair.

  Ava looked forward to spoiling her niece, and had offered to babysit whenever her sister and brother-in-law wanted to take time to be alone together. Aisha told her if she had her own child the
n she wouldn’t have time to come from New York to Maryland to babysit. What Ava found odd was that at thirty-four she still hadn’t felt the pull of motherhood. Perhaps it had something to do with her past relationships with men. However, she wouldn’t think about babies, whether they were hers biologically or adopted, until she felt the time was right. And if it was never right then she would become one of millions of other women who’d elected not to bear a child.

  A soft knock on the door garnered her attention and she glanced up to find the medical director’s secretary in the doorway. “Yes, Tina?”

  “Dr. Mitchell would like to see you in her office.”

  Ava didn’t understand why the psychiatrist sent her secretary instead of picking up the telephone to call her herself. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Tina blushed. “She wants me to bring you.”

  She wanted to tell the timid woman that she knew the way to Dr. Laura Mitchell’s office, but didn’t want to put Tina on the spot. “Here goes nothing,” Ava mumbled as she pushed back her chair and came to her feet.

  “¿Qué pasó?” Maribel whispered as Ava passed her desk.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, sotto voce.

  Any time someone was summoned by the medical director it usually boded ill for that individual, and Ava couldn’t think of anything that could’ve had the irritating woman’s nose out of joint except that she didn’t like that she’d been away from the office for a week.

  Schooling her expression not to reveal what she was feeling, Ava walked into the large sun-filled office and sat down.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  Laura Mitchell, who’d been standing staring out the window, turned slowly. A natural blonde, she wore her thick hair in a tight matronly bun. Large gray eyes in a ghostly pale face reminded Ava of pieces of chipped ice. No one in the agency knew anything about the doctor’s personal life. There was a betting pool as to how old she was and the consensus was that she was somewhere between thirty-five and forty.

  Slipping her hands into the pockets of her white lab coat, Laura Mitchell stared at the social worker she’d been unable to subjugate or intimidate. “How are you feeling?”

  The query caught Ava completely off guard. “Much better. Thank you for asking.”

  Laura sat on the edge of the desk and stared at her Ferragamo pump. “I suppose you’re wondering why I asked to see you.”

  “I can’t begin to fathom why you would want to see me.”

  Dots of red appeared on the doctor’s pale face. “Do you like working here, Ava?”

  Heat pricked Ava’s cheeks, but thankfully her darker complexion concealed her reaction to the question. “Of course. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have stayed.”

  “I know we haven’t seen eye-to-eye on how to run this agency, but I’m a psychiatrist and you’re a psychiatric social worker trained in administration.”

  “Where are you going with this, Dr. Mitchell?”

  “I’ve heard the grumblings and rather than lose staff I’ve decided to make a few management changes. Effective today you’ll be New Lincoln Family Center’s executive director.”

  The seconds ticked off as Ava stared at the woman who’d seemed intent on making her life a living hell until she confronted her. And it hadn’t been an idle threat when she’d told Dr. Mitchell she would walk out and sue her personally if she continued with her unwarranted harassment. The friction between them had begun after Will started leaving threatening messages on the agency’s voice mail.

  “What about you?” Ava asked when she recovered.

  “I’ll remain on staff as medical director, but on a part-time basis. My responsibilities at the hospital have become somewhat overwhelming and my husband gave me an ultimatum. It’s impossible to hold down two full-time positions and maintain a healthy marriage.”

  So, she is married, Ava mused. “How often will you come in?”

  “No more than twelve hours a week. At that time I’ll go over the evaluations and review medical records on the clients who are on medication. I want you to move into this office and I’ll take yours. Of course, more responsibility means you’ll have to be compensated. I met with the agency’s board last week and they’ve agreed to give you an increase in salary that translates into about eighteen percent. You’re going to have to reorganize your caseload, because of the added administrative responsibility.”

  Ava nodded numbly. She would still see clients, but now she was responsible for staff supervision, monthly reports and direct contact with the agency’s board of directors. “This means I’m going to increase Maribel and the other intern’s caseload.”

  “Do whatever you feel you have to do to keep the agency running smoothly and our clients served. Pack up what you want to bring over and I’ll have Tina move my files to your office.”

  Ava’s eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at the woman who had become more of an anomaly than she’d been when she’d taken over as medical director two years before. “Thank you for recommending me for the position.”

  “I didn’t recommend you because I like you, Ava. I did it because you’re more than qualified for the position. There are going to be some rumblings because the social workers who’ve been here longer than you may feel they should get the position by virtue of longevity. They know social-work practice but lack leadership skill. You’re the only one who has and probably will continue to challenge me. I don’t like it but I have to respect you for it.”

  Ava inclined her head in acknowledgment. She’d never been insubordinate yet she hadn’t been as malleable as some of the staff. She’d always been straightforward without appearing confrontational.

  “Should I tell the staff of the changes or will you do it?”

  “I’ll leave that up to you.”

  Ava nodded again. “I’ll tell Tina to type up a memo informing everyone of a twelve-thirty staff meeting in the conference room, and that lunch will be provided. We should have enough money in the sunshine fund to cover the cost of food.”

  Dr. Laura Mitchell did something no one at the agency had ever seen her do: she smiled. “I’ll see you in the conference room at twelve-thirty.”

  Ava left the office, stopped at the desk of the woman who was now her administrative secretary and told her what to put into a memo for immediate distribution. She also instructed Tina to take the interns with her to pick up lunch at the Whole Foods Market located in the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle.

  When she’d been summoned to see Laura Mitchell, Ava never would’ve suspected the turn of events that would change her life. When she’d left teaching to return to school for a social-work career, her focus had been on casework. However, when a faculty advisor had suggested administration because the field still had too few females in administration, she’d decided to redirect her course concentration. Now, fortified with undergraduate degrees in early childhood education and behavioral sciences and an M.S.W., and as a certified social worker, she was firmly on solid ground with her professional career.

  Tina appeared as surprised as Ava had been at the announcement that Ava would be moving into Dr. Mitchell’s office and that the medical director would take her old office. “I’ll make sure to clean out Dr. Mitchell’s office before the end of the day.”

  Ava smiled at the petite, hyperactive woman whom everyone teased relentlessly because of her name. Although only forty, Tina Turner had been married and divorced three times. She confessed to ending her marriages because her husbands were slobs and she was tired of picking up after them. The truth was they couldn’t put up with her constant need to keep everything in its rightful place. Tina knew she had OCD and was seeing an outside therapist to address her disorder.

  Always dressed to the nines, today Tina wore a periwinkle-blue silk-wrapped tunic top over an off-white pencil skirt, and because she had a sample shoe size her closet was filled with the most incredible designer footwear.

  “Thank you, Tina.”

  �
�Are you going to be my new boss?” Tina whispered.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Tina’s blue eyes rolled upward as she appeared to whisper a prayer. “It’s been a long time coming, but my prayers have been answered. I didn’t know how much more I was going to be able to take from Dr. Mort.”

  Ava bit back a smile. Most of the staff had begun referring to Dr. Mitchell as Dr. Mort within days of her coming on board and the name had stuck. There was no doubt that with the decrease in her workweek from thirty-five to twelve hours, the staff’s morale would increase.

  Ava returned to her office and closed the door. Clenching her teeth tightly, she cut a step as she celebrated in private. Opening a drawer in her desk, she reached into her handbag and took out her cell phone. Her joy was so great that she had to tell someone before the staff meeting.

  Ava called her mother and sister, but hung up when she heard their voice-mail messages. She knew she wouldn’t be able to reach her father and she never called her brother at the prison. She thought of calling Karen, her former college roommate, but then remembered she’d gone back to Omaha for her brother’s wedding. Scrolling through the cell’s directory she saw Kyle’s name and numbers.

  She remembered him telling her that he’d closed his office on Monday to give him employees a long weekend. Punching in the number to his cell, she drummed her fingers on the stack of letters, memos and reports that still needed to be read and disseminated.

  “Hello.”

  Ava sat up straighter upon hearing his silken baritone greeting. “Hello, Kyle. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “For you there is never a bad time.”

  “What if you were in court?”

  “I turn my cell off whenever I’m in court. Now, what did I do to have the honor of hearing your sexy voice this morning?”

  “You picked the right profession, because you surely have the gift of gab, counselor.”

  A deep chuckle came through the tiny earpiece. “You don’t think your voice is sexy?”

  “I never gave it a thought.”

  “Think about it, Ava, because it is.”

  Ava wanted to tell Kyle that he was the one with the X-rated voice. “I called to share some good news.”