Zed let out a long breath. Had Maya just provided the perfect segue into bringing up Tasha?
Maya leaned forward, as if she instinctively expected a secret to be revealed.
“You guys might as well know—I’m getting married.” He was speaking in faith that it would happen and it would be to Tasha. Zed braced himself.
Maya’s eyes grew big. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She looked from Anton back to him several times.
Anton looked concerned. “Honey, are you all right?”
She nodded and took a huge gulp of her water. While Anton appeared concerned about his wife, he, too, seemed shocked.
“Who? When? How?” Maya inquired in rapid succession.
“You’re not even dating anyone,” Anton declared.
“This isn’t part of some TV reality show, is it?” Maya cried.
“Hey. Both of you, calm down.” He told them of the will and his aunt Zora’s unusual request. When he was done, they were still staring at him oddly.
“Okay, dude. I think the reality show thing would have been more believable. Your aunt was a character and a half,” Anton declared.
“So who’s the bride-to-be? Did you order her delivered by DoorDash?” Maya quipped.
“Nice,” he responded. “I met her this morning.”
“This morning?” Anton cried. “You met a woman this morning who has agreed to marry you for three months?”
“She hasn’t agreed yet. I’ve given her twenty-four hours.”
“How generous of you,” Anton continued. “Who is she? What do you really know about her? Does she know about your inheritance from your dad and that you’re loaded?”
“We haven’t had the chance to get acquainted. And, no, she doesn’t know about the inheritance. However, we’ll have a prenup that keeps us both protected.”
Anton gave his wife a dumbfounded look. “Maya, say something. Talk some sense into this man.”
Maya leaned back against the booth. She crossed her arms, and an odd little smile curled her lips.
“Maya, baby, what is it?” Anton asked.
Her eyes sparkled. “Your aunt Zora might have been onto something.”
Surprised, Zed stared at Maya. “I thought you said you gave up on me, as far as women were concerned.”
“Seriously, dude, here’s a little Girl 101 for you. No matter what we say, where love’s concerned, for most of us, hope always springs ee-ternal,” she replied, elongating the first syllable of her last word for emphasis.
Zed shook his head. “I have to admit Tasha’s not like anybody I’ve ever met.” Even if there wasn’t a woman alive that he wanted to commit to long-term. Like. Ever. He vehemently vowed to never be like his father, who’d chosen his career as his first and primary love over family, breaking his wife’s and son’s hearts in the process.
“Aw, snap, dawg. Playa down,” Anton cried. He collapsed against the seat, chuckling like a fiend.
“What part of ‘this marriage is a business arrangement’ don’t you both understand? My mind hasn’t changed about marriage and family,” Zed insisted.
Anton shook his head in apparent amazement. “Bro, word of warning—don’t underestimate the mojo. It can do things to the best of us.” He wrapped his arms around Maya and gently kissed her cheek. “We often go down fighting, only to find when we land, we’ve gained something far greater than we ever could imagine. Is it scary? Yeah. Is it worth busting through the fear? No doubt.”
Zed sighed. What Maya and Anton had was what he’d always wished for his mother. He couldn’t count how many times, as a young boy, he’d sat with her watching sappy love stories on television. He’d often been bored to tears. After all, these weren’t his beloved bromances, with explosions, harried car chases and fight scenes to the death at every turn.
He’d witnessed both raw yearning and sorrow in his mother’s expression while they watched the rom-coms. What kept him going, and helped him endure the romantic movies, was the light in his mother’s eyes when she watched a couple fall in love and have a happy ending. He’d longed for the same happiness for her.
Maya and Anton were his first examples, up close and personal, of true love in action. And Anton had been a hard-core bachelor back in the day.
Zed fought rampant emotions. Although he’d prayed and begged God for a similar love story for his parents, he’d seen his mother’s heart shattered. He knew he’d been the only bright spot in her life.
Would God ignore his prayers now, too, to save the house that held precious memories of his mother and her fierce unconditional love for him?
His worrisome thoughts followed him through dinner, the concert and the ride home. When he arrived back at his house, he was weary. He put on his pajamas and headed to bed. But sleep eluded him most of the night. He tossed and turned, and in the morning, when he awakened, bleary-eyed from the late-night concert, he checked his phone. His heart dropped. No messages.
The longer he didn’t hear from Tasha, the greater chance she wasn’t going to agree to his plan. And time was running out.
Had he really proposed to someone? He’d never thought he’d utter those four little words, a phrase that turned women to jelly, while often leaving men shaking in their boots at the gravity of it all.
He imagined Aunt Zora and his mother high-fiving each other and looking down from heaven with amusement.
The thought of his beloved childhood home being flattened to the ground distressed him. The place was more than a house; it represented the only time in his life he’d experienced pure, unconditional love. While his mother, Evelyn Evans, had her issues, loving him had never been one of them. The house was also partially the reason he’d become an architect. Even as a child, he’d appreciated the unique amenities and beauty of the place. He’d known how blessed they’d been, as a Black family, to live in such a grand home.
Tasha held the cards to his life in her hands. He groaned and inwardly chastised himself. It was his fault for waiting until his aunt’s timeline whittled down to days. He had nobody to blame but himself. If Tasha refused his offer, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
He rechecked his phone for messages. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Realization hit him like a sledgehammer. He might really lose the house and something far worse—a link to the only happiness he’d ever known.
Chapter Three
Tasha awakened to slats of angled sunlight beaming on her face through the blinds. She blinked hard. Surveying the room, she found Milo in her laundry basket sprawled on top of a pile of clean clothes.
When she was finally fully awake, she remembered the previous day and Zed’s proposition.
She sat up. The anxiety in the pit of her stomach was still there. She’d hoped that sleep would provide clarity. However, she was more confused than ever.
Her phone pinged, and she grabbed it from the side table. It was a text from Zed.
Need to talk. Can u meet me at the Copper Pot in the town square?
Tasha groaned. She was certain Zed wanted to gauge where she stood regarding his proposition. He might even try to influence her, if she was still hesitant. She reluctantly texted him that she’d meet him.
After tossing her phone on the nightstand by her bed, Tasha showered and prepared a light breakfast.
She didn’t know what she was going to tell Zed, but she knew he was running out of time. It would only be fair to let him know something.
After her shower, Tasha checked her phone. Zed had responded.
C u there.
She quickly dressed in a Kelly green sweater, jeans and red Keds. After pulling her hair up, she put on her favorite black fedora, then added oversize silver hoop earrings to finish off the look.
She fed Milo before slinging her pink bedazzled combo backpack and purse over her shoulders and headed for the downtown square. She decided to walk, gra
teful for the forty-minute stroll to town to give her time to consider her decision.
No doubt, she loved the Victorian. Her heart went out to Zed. It was also true that she was stoked to think her dream of her wedding planning and venue business could become a reality. But marriage was huge. The real deal. If anyone knew this, she did. As a wedding planner, she’d witnessed love and marriage firsthand countless times.
Would she somehow hurt her wedding business by making marriage a for-profit business deal in her personal life? Her stomach twisted with anxiety when the town square and the ancient black clock at the center came into view.
Hoping to take her mind off things, Tasha admired the quaint square. Some of the redbrick storefronts had been there since before the turn of the twentieth century. Fresh flowerpots lined many of the buildings’ windowsills. A curtain of white lights draped across the square in a rope of enchanting color.
The pretty scene lifted her spirits. “Lord, I really need Your help. I need to believe You’ve got me,” she whispered as she walked toward the Copper Pot.
Zed was sitting outside the coffee shop, under a forest green canopy. He wore a camel-colored coat, khakis and white shirt. Tasha had to admit he was a beautiful specimen of a man. It was more than just his looks; it was the combination of confidence and kindness that was potent.
The wistful look on his face, a mixture of hope and fear, nearly did her in. She held his life in her hands.
“Hey,” he said as she approached. He gave her a friendly hug. “I already ordered a coffee. Hope that’s okay.”
“No problem.”
“Can I get you something?”
“I always get the same thing—hot chocolate, extra whipped cream, with a pinch of cinnamon.”
Zed laughed. “A pinch of cinnamon. How does one do a pinch?”
She grinned. “I don’t know. They figure it out. I leave it to their interpretation.” Like I’m leaving it up to my interpretation whether it’s a good or bad thing to turn our lives upside down with your wild proposition.
Tasha took a seat as Zed headed inside the coffee shop. She rehearsed different speeches in her mind, weighing the pros and cons of her options.
Watching a stream of early risers leisurely stroll down the sidewalk, Tasha wished her future path were as easy.
The coffee shop door reopened and Zed exited, carrying a cup. He handed it to her as he seated himself.
“I hope your coffee didn’t get cold while you were getting my hot chocolate.”
“Oddly enough, I actually like lukewarm coffee,” he said.
Tasha eyed her hot beverage, admiring the tall mountain of whipped cream speckled with cinnamon. She sipped the drink, licking the sweet cream off her lips.
Zed observed her. “Please tell me you’ve got good news for me.”
Tasha took a tentative second taste of her hot chocolate. “That depends.”
She saw the hitch in Zed’s breath, evidenced by the jump of his Adam’s apple.
“I want to help you, really I do,” she said.
He sat up straighter, as if bracing himself. “Do I hear a but in your tone?”
Tasha peered at him. “Zed, you have to admit the idea is a little bit over-the-top. To say the least.”
He picked up his beverage. Tipping back his head, he swigged the entire cup. Afterward, he one-shot dunked the empty container in a nearby trash can. “I guess this means your answer is no.” She saw the defeat in his eyes.
Tasha quietly studied him. He was alone in the world. Just like her. They both were like wandering stars in the galaxy. Tethered to nothing. And the house was all he had left of his mother.
“I have an issue with it all,” she admitted woefully.
Zed checked his watch. To her surprise, he abruptly stood. “Thanks for considering it. It was a lot to ask. It was nice meeting you.” He reached out a hand to shake hers. Disappointment darkened his features.
Tasha mournfully shook her head. “I’m sorry, Zed. The thing is, the one issue is—with that felony in Illinois on my record, there might be a problem with the background check.”
Zed’s eyebrows hopped and settled. “What?”
It took a moment before realization lightened his sullen features.
She couldn’t stop the grin that teased her lips. Since their first meeting, humor had been a connection between them.
They simultaneously burst into laughter.
“Does this mean what I think it means?” His light eyes scanned her face.
She grinned full-on. “Yes. I’m all in.”
Before she realized what was happening, Zed let out a whoop-whoop, scooped her up and whirled her around. His strength and how easily he lifted and twirled her had her dizzy. Both literally and figuratively. Get it together, girl.
When he put her down, the tenderness in his expression nearly slayed her. “Thank you, my future missus.”
Choked up, she was unable to speak, so she simply nodded. What’s happening to me? She got herself together. “One thing. No offense, but I’d like to keep my name. It’s too complicated to get everything changed, and it’s not worth it since we’re only going to be married a short time.”
“No problem. I understand.” Zed took a small notepad and pen out of his coat. He sat back down at the table. Tasha followed his lead and did the same.
“Okay. I’ll need some information from you,” he said. “We’ll get the background checks started and we’ll also have to get and file the marriage license. I’ll arrange for us to meet with my lawyer to draw up a prenup, so you’re assured you’ll take away the agreed-upon amount we discussed and my financial interests will be protected. I hope that doesn’t sound too callous.”
“Not at all. This is a business deal. You have every right to have clear terms and to protect yourself. And I’d like to be protected and have it in writing that I’ll receive what you’ve promised.”
“Great. There is something else we must do.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve got to meet my best friend and his wife. They’re the closest thing to family I’ve got. Forewarning, they’re not too happy that we don’t know each other very well, even if this is a legally arranged marriage.”
Tasha cocked her head. “We could remedy that a little and in a fun way.”
“How so?”
“I could create a survey for both of us to take, with questions about our lives. And then we could quiz each other on what we’ve learned.”
“Quiz each other? Will there be a test?” he joked.
“Maybe,” she said in a teasing tone.
“The background checks should take a few days,” he said. “We’ll meet my friends, and we can get married at the courthouse at the end of the week.”
“I’d like you to meet my best friend, Kelly, too,” she informed him. “She’s in Europe, so we’ll have to FaceTime.”
“How do you think she’ll take the news?” he asked.
“That, my friend, is the million-dollar question.”
Tasha knew one thing. Kelly wouldn’t hold back on her opinion about the matter. Her BFF had called her on the carpet many a time, believing she’d closed her heart to love out of fear. Would settling for a faux marriage for money prove Kelly was correct? Was she doing the right thing?
* * *
Zed parallel parked his truck in front of Tasha’s small building, nestled in the north side of Vista Peak. The area was a mixture of modest homes interspersed with a few apartment buildings. It amazed him how the woman he hadn’t even known existed had entered and changed his life in just three days.
The dying sun reflected honey-gold light off the windows as it melted into the horizon. He half walked, half jogged to the door and rang the doorbell. When Tasha buzzed him in, he climbed the steps to her second-floor unit.
When
she opened the door, he stepped into the little studio with a hardwood floor in the living space and black-and-white tile in the kitchen area. Through the bathroom’s open door, he saw a glimpse of pink tile walls and green fixtures. The place wasn’t fancy, but it looked well lived in and loved, like it was her haven.
He was glad that in addition to the lump sum he promised her to start her business, he was able to pay three months of her month-to-month lease while she lived with him in the Victorian. She’d asked if he planned to rent out his home while they lived in the Victorian. He’d just casually said no, that he had that covered. He didn’t tell her that finances weren’t an issue for him, because of his dad’s inheritance. Once he secured the Victorian, he’d sell his place.
Tasha gestured toward her cat. “This is Milo. I’ve made him promise to be on his best behavior and to avoid licking anywhere south of his chin. For now. At least, until he knows you better.”
Zed chuckled. “Hey, Milo,” he said. The cat gave him a dull-lidded stare.
“So this is my place,” Tasha said, waving her hands.
“I like it.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment coming from a professor of architecture. It’s kinda Bohemian chic. My best friend, Kelly, calls it ‘everything but the kitchen sink’ style.”
“It’s you.”
“How so?”
“Quirky. Surprising. Category defying.” The words that spilled out of his mouth surprised him. He’d been thinking them but hadn’t meant to voice the opinion.
Her brows scrunched up. “Thank you. I think.”
The cat rubbed up against his leg, leaving a layer of orange hair on his pristine, crisply pressed jeans.
“Sorry, he sheds a lot.” Tasha picked up the cat and grabbed a pet-hair roller from a basket by the window. “You can de-cat with this.”
He took the brush and patted Milo on the head before running the roller along his pants leg.
She grabbed a small plastic box filled with multicolored index cards.
“Cue cards. Really?”
“I told you there might be a test.” Tasha lifted her chin proudly. “I’ll have you know that I was a 4.0 student in high school and college because of cue cards.”
Claiming His Christmas Inheritance Page 4
