“Then I’ll see you after closing,” she said with a slight smile on her lips. Jason leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss on her lips. As Ingrid got into her car and headed for the restaurant, she didn’t want to give in to the belief that this could be her future. Though, it sure felt good to know Jason was going to be waiting for her tonight.
After Ingrid left, Jason sent the limo away and called Christina. “Jason, what do you want?” Christina asked.
“I need a favor,” he said sweetly. “I have to pick up my car and my son. But my car is at the hotel and I’m at Ingrid’s and I don’t have a key to get back in.”
“Why don’t I come can get the keys to your car and drive it back to you? Is it a manual drive or automatic?”
“Chrissy, you know that car is really important to me,” he said. “If you get one scratch on it. . .”
“What’s more important, Ingrid or that damned pony? Which, I might add, is not a stable family car.”
“Why do I feel like that was a bid for me to sell the car to you?” he asked with a laugh.
“Can’t get nothing past you, huh?” she quipped. “Man, do you know how long I’ve wanted a Mustang like that one?”
“I’m not selling you my car,” Jason said. “But you can drive it over here.”
“And around town tonight while you and Ingrid are doing the date thing?” she suggested.
“Where’s my son going to be?”
“Sleeping. I’ll see you to get those keys in a little bit,” she said then hung up the phone. Jason looked down at his watch and wondered if DeShawn was finished with his art project. Part of him was worried about how DeShawn would react to him showing up to claim him without his mother?
Jason smiled as he thought about that morning that DeShawn saw him lying in bed with his mother.
“Hey, mister, what are you doing here?”
“I was just leaving,” Jason said as he stared at his spitting image.
“How do you know my mommy?”
“We’re old friends,” he said. “How old are you?”
DeShawn stuck his chest out and smiled. “Three.”
Would telling DeShawn the truth about who Jason really was ruin his life or would he be willing to accept Jason as his Dad?
Moments later, Christina was walking through Ingrid’s front door. She tossed Jason the keys to her car. “Where’s the pony?” she asked.
Jason handed her the keys to his car. “Please don’t race around town and wreck my car.” He glanced down at his watch. “I have to go and get DeShawn. Mind if I take your car?”
“Sure,” she said then dashed out the door.
Jason was quick on her heels, “Chrissy, how are you going to get to the hotel?”
“It’s only a few blocks away,” she said. “I’m going to walk. Don’t keep my godson waiting.”
Jason shook his head as he got into her Honda Accord and headed for Celina’s gallery.
As Ingrid served up a plate of fried chicken with all of the fixings to one of her regular customers, she couldn’t help but wonder how Jason and DeShawn were getting along.
“You seem preoccupied, Miss Ingrid,” said Damien.
“Hmm?”
“I asked you for a tea about five minutes ago,” he said.
“I’m sorry, I’ll get it for you. You want a slice of pie?”
Damien laughed. “You do realize that I just got my dinner, right?”
Ingrid placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, you’re right, I am distracted today,” she said. Ingrid waved for Yolanda to bring Damien his drink.
Then she headed to the kitchen and called Jason on her cell phone. When he didn’t answer, alarms sounded in her head. Was everything all right with DeShawn? Had they been in an accident?
I shouldn’t have left them alone together. What the hell was I thinking? Jason and DeShawn don’t know each other like that. What if they were in an accident? It’s not as if he drives a car that’s safe for kids. Ingrid snatched off her apron and dashed out of the restaurant.
Ingrid hopped into her car and sped down the street to her house, her mind was muddled with every worst case scenario she could happen.
“Little man,” Jason said as he dipped his paintbrush in the watercolors. “If we’re going to surprise Mommy with this painting, we’d better hurry up.”
“OK,” the little boy said as he carefully traced a line on the picture he and Jason had drawn together. It was a picture of Ingrid from three years ago, a picture that Jason kept in his wallet. He was surprised that he could draw as well as he had. Some skills just don’t go away, he surmised as he watched his son painting. His son. Jason still couldn’t believe he was a father. He fought the urge to stroke the boy’s head. Just as he was about to get another plastic cup for them to use to clean their brushes, Ingrid stormed through the front door.
“Christina!”
“Mommy,” DeShawn called out as he looked up from his project.
Ingrid walked into the kitchen and locked eyes with Jason. “What-why is Christina’s car out there and why didn’t you answer your cell phone?” she asked in one breath.
“When did you call? Christina just brought my phone by because it was in my car,” he said as he rose to his feet. “What’s going on?”
She dropped her head in her hands. “I just thought something was wrong.” Ingrid looked down at the drawing DeShawn and Jason had been painting. “What are you guys doing?”
“Painting,” DeShawn said then turning his attention back to his and Jason’s drawing.
Jason crossed over to Ingrid. “You OK? You’re shivering,” he said as he stroked her arm.
“I was afraid that something had happened with you guys and I. . .”
“Overreacted?” he said as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the forehead.
“It looks as if you have everything under control here,” she said quietly.
“Yes, we’re fine,” Jason said. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”
Ingrid glanced at DeShawn, who was so engrossed in his work he wasn’t paying attention to her or Jason. “He’s always reminded me of you,” she said. “He does something and I think Jason would do the same thing. I wish I hadn’t kept him from you all of these years.”
“I wish I had made it easier for you to come to me when you found out that you were pregnant.”
“We can’t change the past,” she replied wistfully. “We both made mistakes and now we have to focus on what we’re going to do now.”
Before Jason could respond, his cell phone rang. He looked down at the screen and saw that it was Ruby calling. “I have to take this, unfortunately,” he said as he clicked the talk button. “Yeah?”
“What part of we need to meet didn’t you understand? I’m getting calls from Def Jam about this contest and if I don’t have a report by the end of the week it’s off.”
“This isn’t a good time,” Jason said through clenched teeth. “I’m busy.”
“Pull yourself away from Miss Piggy’s table and meet me at that restaurant in an hour or I’m pulling the plug on this bullshit,” she snapped.
“Fine, but you’re going to stop with these frantic calls when I know the only person at Def Jam who wants to shut this down is you,” Jason said.
“Whatever. It’s a stupid idea. These corn fed people wouldn’t know. . .”
Jason clicked the end button on his phone and turned to Ingrid. She shook her head.
“Ruby, huh?”
“The one and only. Unfortunately, I have to go meet with her.”
DeShawn walked over to Jason, “We have to finish our picture.”
Jason placed his hand on top of his son’s head, “I have to step out and I’ll be back as soon as my meeting is over and we’ll finish.”
DeShawn folded his arms and glared at Jason. “But I want to finish it now.”
Ingrid touched her son’s arm. “DeShawn, you’re being rude. Jason has to go to work,” she
said.
“But I’ll be back, I promise,” Jason said. “And I never break a promise.”
“OK,” DeShawn said dejectedly. Ingrid hugged her son to her hips and kissed the top of his head. She quietly whispered to him and Jason wanted nothing more than to stay with his family. As he stood there and watched Ingrid and DeShawn, Jason knew that he had to have her and his little boy in his life. He needed Ingrid to be his wife in the worse way. All he needed to do was convince her that they—after all of this time—still belonged together.
Chapter Fifteen
Jason stormed into the restaurant and sought out Ruby. He wasn’t surprised to find her huddled in a corner with Debony. Ain’t this a . . . “Ladies,” he said when he approached the table. “I hope we can take care of this quickly.”
Ruby leaned back in her seat and glowered at Jason. “Quickly? I’ve been waiting to talk to you for days. You got me . . .”
“Chill out, Rube,” Debony said. “Jason did have a concert last night and we all know he came here for her.”
Ruby rolled her eyes and propped up on her elbows. “When are we going to get this damned contest started?”
“Next week,” Jason said. “I’m going to put the word out in some churches and I was thinking that we could have three rounds and do the performances at Glen Park on Saturdays. At the final performance, I’ll do a free show before we announce the winner.”
Ruby nodded. “That’s not a half bad idea and since we have Debony here, she can perform too.”
“What kind of game are you playing?” Jason asked. “Debony doesn’t need to stay here.” He turned to her. “Don’t you have a record to work on?”
She shrugged. “Ruby says that we’ll get more press coverage if I’m here. You want this thing to succeed don’t you?”
“Whatever, but I’m telling both of you—we only have a business relationship. What I do in personal time is none of your business. There will be no more disrespecting Ingrid,” Jason said forcefully.
“Nobody cares about that . . .” Ruby stopped talking when she saw the angry scowl on Jason’s face. “Fine. I’m going to call New York and get one of the interns to make some radio spots for southeastern radio stations. We’re going to find that star after all.”
Jason rose to his feet. “We’re done?”
Ruby waved her hands and shook her head. Jason dashed out of the restaurant. Ruby turned to Debony, “I broke them up once and I can do it again.”
Debony shook her head and waved for a waitress.
Ingrid knew when Jason left her place that this was the kind of life that she wanted to shield DeShawn from. She dealt with it in New York. When Ruby called, Jason had to run. Though he said things were different now, she couldn’t tell.
“So,” Ingrid said as she smiled down at her son. “Do you want me to help you with your painting?”
He shook his head. “You can’t draw, Mommy.”
She kissed her son’s forehead and laughed. “You’re right, but I can make you a peanut butter and honey sandwich. You definitely got your artistic talents from your Dad.”
DeShawn cast his eyes up at Ingrid. “Daddy could draw?”
She inhaled sharply as she realized her gaffe. Of course her son was still thinking of Louis as his father. She didn’t know how to start this conversation or if DeShawn would actually understand.
“DeShawn, I have to. . .”
Christina burst through the front door and dashed into the kitchen. “Wow! Where’s Jason? Oh my God, that car is amazing,” she said. “I can’t believe that I didn’t get a ticket.”
“He’s not here,” Ingrid said, somewhat happy for her friend’s intrusion. DeShawn rushed over to Christina and hugged her around her legs.
“What’s up, DeShawn!” she said as she brushed her lips across his forehead.
“I want to ride in the car,” he said excitedly, as if he was feeding off Christina’s excitement.
“How about no,” Jason said. Ingrid and Christina looked at him.
“When did you get here?” Ingrid asked.
He pointed to Christina, “She left your door open and when I saw her zoom past the restaurant, I knew I needed to reclaim my car. DeShawn, if your mom says it’s OK, then the three of us can go and get ice cream in my car.”
Ingrid fingered her throat and nodded. “Just promise me you don’t drive like this one.”
“Not when I have precious cargo in my car,” he said, inching closer to Ingrid.
“Mommy, can we go?” DeShawn asked. “Please?”
Christina winked at her friend. “You know I’ll lock up after you guys. Such a beautiful family,” she said as she took a seat at the bar.
Ingrid shook her head. “Let me grab my purse.”
DeShawn and Jason headed outside and Ingrid watched them from the window. It was as if DeShawn already knew he and Jason were connected. She could tell by the way her son held his hand. Ingrid smiled as Jason lifted him into the driver’s seat and DeShawn took the wheel as if he was really driving. She dashed upstairs and grabbed her purse, then she joined Jason and DeShawn.
“Is DeShawn driving us to the Cream Shoppe?” she joked.
“I can’t drive, Mommy,” the little boy replied with a laugh. She ran her hand across his head.
“Then, I’ll have to drive us,” she said as she snaked the keys away from Jason.
“Hey,” he said. “Am I ever going to get to drive my car again?”
Ingrid shrugged as she ushered DeShawn into the backseat. Jason hopped into the passenger seat and buckled up as Ingrid got behind the wheel. She started the vintage car and revved the engine. She smiled as the roar of the V-8 filled the air. “Wow,” she said then put the car in gear. Though she wanted to press the gas to the floor, Ingrid couldn’t be reckless with the two men she loved in the car. Yes, she’d finally admitted to herself that she still loved Jason, she thought as she glanced at him quickly.
“You look good sitting over there,” Jason said as she drove.
“Then you should give me the car,” she joked.
“It’s yours.”
Ingrid smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, right.”
“I can get another car, there’s only one you.”
When they arrived at the ice cream shop, DeShawn was chopping at the bits to get out of the car. He wanted chocolate ice cream and Ingrid wasn’t getting out of the car fast enough. As the three of them walked to the window to order their frozen treats, Ingrid turned to Jason.
“I was joking about you giving me your car.”
“But I was serious about giving it to you. I thought about you when I bought it. When we were growing up, you always said a Mustang was your dream car.”
“How did you remember that?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Some of the best times I ever had were when it was just you and me and our dreams.”
“Then your dreams came true,” she said. “And that was the end of us.”
Jason took he hand in his and brought it to his lips. “And that was the beginning of my nightmare.”
“Yeah right, you were the star you wanted to be. On the cover of magazines, starring in ad campaigns wearing your underwear; and I don’t even want to know about the women.”
“No one could compare to you. Press agents and producers have arraigned most of my dates over the last three years. Half of those women actually thought my name was Jay Slade.”
Ingrid shook her head as the line inched forward. “What about Debony?”
Jason shuddered. “A mistake that I will always regret. That night in Atlanta, I was praying that I’d step off stage and you’d be there waiting for me. When I saw her and heard what she had to say about your e-mail, I just wanted to black out.”
“Well, why is she here, still looking at you as if she wants to sink her teeth into you like a vampire?”
Before Jason could answer, it was time for the three of them to order their ice cream. DeShawn got his chocolate waffle
cone with sprinkles. Ingrid and Jason decided to share a bowl of butter pecan with caramel and whipped cream. They sat at one of the picnic tables across from the parking lot.
“It was Ruby’s idea to bring her here and I know it’s not for the contest,” he said as he took a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “I’ve already told the people at the record company that I’m ready to go behind the scenes.”
Ingrid nearly choked on ice cream. “Really?” she sputtered. “But I know how much you love to perform.”
“I want to be with you,” he said. “We let too much time past and I want a chance to get to know him and be the father that he needs and that I never had.”
Ingrid glanced at DeShawn, who wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. “But how long can you be happy in Elmore? You’ve traveled the world and coming back here is . . .”
“How long do you plan on living here? Because that’s how long I can be happy here.” He lifted his spoon to Ingrid’s lips. She shook her head.
“I can’t ask you to give up your life,” she said.
Jason slipped the spoon between her lips. “You’re not asking me to do anything. And there’s no need to discuss it. I’m staying here to be with you and my. . .DeShawn.”
The little boy looked up at Jason and Ingrid at the mention of his name, but he didn’t say anything.
Ingrid swallowed the sweet cream and focused her glance on Jason. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t want Jason to stay. There was a big part of her that wanted to see if she and Jason could be a family. Was she crazy for thinking that they could turn back the hands of time and have the life that they were planning three years ago?
“Jason,” she said. “We. . .”
“Should get married, I agree,” he said with a wily smile.
“What? Are you out of your mind?” Ingrid’s spoon flew out of hand and clanked to the ground.
Jason leaned into her and wiped a bit of cream from her chin. “Not this time. I’m not going to let you go again. Not when we have so much at stake this time.”
If It Isn't Love Page 14
