by Pamela Yaye
Devon’s work as an actor had left him more than financially secure, but he wasn’t the type of guy to spend his money on private jets, yachts and other things he saw as unnecessary. He just flew first or business class, concealed his identity, and kept to himself on flights and in airports. Other than the occasional overzealous fan who’d demand an autograph or selfie, his system had served him well over the years.
He stopped to regard the suitcase, his eyes scanning the contents. He’d packed mainly comfortable clothing for his annual holiday vacation, and he looked forward to lounging around his favorite beach rental overlooking the Atlantic. Force of habit made him also pack slacks, button-downs and a few ties, just in case.
As he leaned over the bed to tuck his socks into an outer compartment, a twinge shot through his lower back. Grimacing, he jerked upright again before uttering a low curse. He was still relatively young, just shy of thirty-five. Despite his youth, his recent injury had made him question whether he should keep performing his own stunts in his action roles.
Before Thanksgiving, he’d shot the final scene for the upcoming Destruction Derby 3. When he’d made the daring leap, escaping an explosion that would be added in later via the magic of special effects, he’d landed improperly, resulting in a herniated disk. It wasn’t the first time he’d been injured while executing a stunt, but it was his most serious injury to date.
The bed began buzzing, drawing his attention back to the moment at hand. He searched around until he located his phone, tucked between the suitcase and his comforter. Grabbing it, he answered the call on speaker. “Hi, Ma. How are you?”
Eva Sykes Granger’s voice filled the room. “I’m fine, but how are you? Is your back okay?”
“It’s fine, Ma.” It wasn’t a lie, per se. Once he took his medication and gave it time to get into his system, he’d be feeling somewhat better.
“Are you sure you’re up to that long flight? Don’t you think you should sit out the vacation this year?” Her words were laced with motherly concern.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” He’d come to look forward to this getaway, far from the fast-paced hustle and bustle of LA. He craved the respite of the quiet oceanfront hamlet where he’d been born. “Besides, it’s not a nonstop flight. I’ve got a layover in Dallas, and I’ll be sure to stretch.”
She sighed. “Well, you’re an adult. I don’t suppose I can stop you from going.”
He shook his head, tucking his last item of clothing into the suitcase and closing it. “Ma, you know why I go home every year. What I don’t know is why you and Dad don’t come with me. You know I’d cover your tickets.”
Another sigh. “Christmas in North Carolina is a bit much for your father and me. You know we aren’t religious, and we’re happier keeping things low-key this time of year.”
He chuckled. “I know, Ma. You and Dad aren’t exactly filled with the Christmas spirit.” His parents lived in a palatial home he’d bought them when he had completed his first film, but David and Eva’s idea of holiday decoration consisted of battery-operated candles in the front windows and a single strand of white lights, placed in a palm tree by their gardener.
As if reading his mind, she said, “I know what you’re thinking, Devon. And I’ll have you know Mr. Roper strung lights in two of our palm trees this year.”
Grateful his mother couldn’t see him rolling his eyes, he quipped, “Don’t overdo it now, Ma.”
She laughed, the familiar sound warming Devon’s heart. “Oh, go on with you. Make sure you call us and let us know you got there safely.”
“I always do.” He zipped the suitcase closed, placing his trusty lock in the loops to secure it.
“Devon...there’s one more thing.”
Noticing the hesitation in her tone, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “What is it, Ma?”
“Your father and I were talking, and we really want to see you settled down again.”
He sighed. He’d been hoping to avoid this conversation this year, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen. “Ma. I don’t really want to talk about this.”
“I know you don’t, son, so just hear me out. It’s been five years since Nat left us, and we’re ready for you to get off the merry-go-round and find a nice girl to bring home.”
“Merry-go-round? Really, Ma?” He’d started dating again about two years ago, and since then he’d gone out with his share of women. He’d even satisfied his urges here and there, but the term his mother had just used seemed to go too far in describing his life as a young widower.
“You’ve dated plenty of girls but never gotten serious about anyone. I know it must be hard to put your heart on the line after such a loss, but you’ve got to take the chance, dear.”
He felt his brow furrow. Hard didn’t begin to describe it. His reluctance to enter a serious relationship again had nothing to do with opportunity and everything to do with his feelings. His wife, Natalie, had been only twenty-nine when he’d lost her to an undetected congenital heart defect. It had taken him almost three years to learn to navigate the world without his childhood sweetheart by his side.
“Just think about it, dear. That’s all we ask.”
He could hear the love and concern in his mother’s voice, and it did much to soothe his frustration. “I will, Ma.” And he would think about it. But that didn’t guarantee he’d come home with a fiancée any time soon, and he hoped she realized that. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, son. Travel safe.” She disconnected the call.
Devon stood and pocketed his phone, glancing around his room to be sure he hadn’t forgotten anything he’d need for his trip. That done, he dropped the wheeled suitcase on the floor, lifted the telescoping handle and pushed it out of the room.
Copyright © 2017 by Eboni Manning
ISBN-13: 9781488013898
Seduced by the Tycoon at Christmas
Copyright © 2017 by Pamela Sadadi
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