“Hmm. Is he just as cute as you?” Enid asked.
Bruce was jogging back toward them.
“You can be the judge of that. He’s heading back this way.”
Thank God.
Bruce was more adept at handling a small crowd of horny women than Alec.
“Well,” Bruce heaved out as he approached them. “No wonder you wanted to take a rest.”
The women smiled at him.
“Hello, ladies,” Bruce greeted with a big grin.
“Hi,” the women enunciated with high-pitched feminine charm.
****
Layla lay on her bed for twenty minutes. She felt tired, but her mind wouldn’t turn off. Thoughts of what she had to do for the week plagued her along with her new memories. She considered taking a sedative, but she didn’t want to take it in the middle of the day. Then again, she had no errands to run. She could take the sedative, have an extra-long nap. She could research new recipes tomorrow. Layla had decided to take Lacey’s advice about adding more sophistication to her menus, especially now that her status in the community had evolved.
She got off the bed and walked into the bathroom. The walls were tan. There was a double vanity sink, a separate, clear-glass shower, and a Jacuzzi bathtub for two. She had put the bottle of pills in a drawer on her side of the vanity. Damien never went on her side, so she figured it was the best place to keep them. After she took one pill out of the bottle, she put the bottle back in the drawer and closed it. As she reached for a paper cup from the dispenser, she glanced at the mirror. Layla’s mouth dropped open and her body stilled because it wasn’t her reflection – not her real one.
She watched the younger version of herself apply heavy makeup to her eyelids and lips with quick ease. Her hair was straight with the same highlights that she saw herself with during her hypnosis. The short, red satin negligee looked like it weighed no more than a feather. And her jaw was moving. Was she chewing gum? She didn’t chew gum – did she? Then her reflection looked to the side, like someone called for her. She smiled, checked herself one more time, and walked away.
Layla clasped her hands over her eyes as she was on the verge of hyperventilating. “Shit,” she sobbed. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.” She stumbled back to the bedroom like she was drunk. “God,” she whispered.
“Watch what you wish for missy, because you just might get it,” a stern, angry, female voice that didn’t sound like her said in her head.
“Oh my God.” Layla rushed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She entered the living room like a mad woman.
“Señora?” Izabella inquired.
Layla didn’t even look at her. Her eyes were too busy zeroing in on her purse. Frantically grabbing her Coach bag, she searched for her cell phone. She was going to call Victoria. Layla remembered that she had mentioned that memories might come back to her out of nowhere, but this was ridiculous. She was seeing things, for Christ’s sake.
****
They were able to get away from the Sunset Boulevard Welcome Brigade. When Enid had “accidently” brushed her hand against Alec’s thigh, he almost pulled out his mace. The ladies were all over them.
Alec and Bruce secured their caps on their heads as they jogged past Lana’s house. They were also wearing dark sunglasses.
Bruce started chuckling. “There sure are some lonely ladies on this street. Once this is all over, I’m going to have to come back and . . . keep them company.”
“What they really need are hobbies or jobs to keep them out of trouble.”
“They have jobs. They’re housewives . . . most of them, anyway,” Bruce said.
They jogged around the curve that led to the main road. Then they stopped at a bench.
Alec snorted.
“What? My mom was a housewife, and it can be a hard job, especially when you also have five kids.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t . . . for most women. But the wives in this neighborhood don’t have regular housewife duties. Eight percent of them have maids. We saw that on Friday. One woman has a full-time nanny. Plus, most of the cars in this neighborhood are a minimum of fifty grand. They’re not lonely, they’re spoiled. Even Lana has a part-time nanny and a maid.”
Bruce started snickering. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You’re afraid she is a lonely-by-day housewife, too. Perhaps she has a lover across town, or worse yet, the mailman could be delivering extra packages to her house.”
“Stop it,” Alec hissed.
Bruce chuckled. “I’m sure she’s the perfect woman. I’m just pulling your chain.”
They sat down on the bench. They could see the Miles’s house between the trees. It wasn’t a clear view, but it was good enough.
They chatted about football for a few minutes.
A yellow cab came up the main road and signaled to get in the right lane. Then the driver turned onto Sunset.
They watched the cab slowly drive up the street. It slowed in front of Lana’s house and slowly pulled into the driveway.
“Lana must be going somewhere,” Bruce stated as he bobbed his head to get a better look.
“It must be the nanny,” Alec stated. “If Lana was going somewhere, she would just take her car.”
Lana came out of the front door. It looked like she was in a hurry.
“It is her,” Bruce said.
“Yeah,” Alec retorted with confusion. “We better get in the car.”
****
Victoria had a cancellation, but she was at her medical office in Tampa today. Layla didn’t care. She was desperate to see her. She just had to be careful about who saw her. She was so shaken up by the things she saw that she didn’t think it was a good idea for her to drive, so she called a cab.
Layla explained everything she experienced to Victoria.
“Remember, I said that you might remember things on your own.”
“Of course, I remember that you said that, but I thought it would be in my head. Not slap-dab in my face like I’m having hallucinations.”
“It’s rare when memories come back to you that way, but it does happen. Layla, they’re visions of your past. Past. They can’t hurt you.”
“I understand,” Layla said.
“Did you take any anxiety medication today?”
“I took a Xanax before I came here.”
“Are you driving?”
“No, I took a cab.”
“Layla, you won’t be able to come here every time you remember something that disturbs you. You need to have someone who can support you during this time. I think it’s time to tell your husband that you are getting treatment to get your memories back.”
“No! I can’t,” Layla stressed. “If I tell him that I’ve been . . . seeing things, he’ll start worrying. He might even make me stop seeing you.”
Victoria was quiet for a moment. “Layla, are you afraid of him?”
“No,” she answered quickly. “He’s sweet as pie. I don’t think he could hurt a flea. But the only time he has ever gotten angry with me is when I have talked about seeing a therapist. I don’t want to rock the boat. We have a wonderful marriage.”
“All right. What about a friend? Someone you can depend on and trust.”
Lacey was her only close friend. As much as she loved Lacey, she wasn’t sure that she could depend on her for emotional support for something like this. Lacey could be shallow sometimes and too self-involved. For some reason, Izabella entered her mind. The sweet old woman was so calming and understanding during Layla’s freak-out at the house. She didn’t know what was wrong with Layla, but she didn’t push her for answers either. “I think I might know someone.” Izabella wasn’t a gossip. She did her job and minded her own business most of the time.
“Good. I don’t think it would be good to do a hypnosis treatment today. But we’ll resume with it on Thursday.”
“Okay.”
Chapter 10
Layla hadn’t had any episodes since Monday. When she
had returned home, she sat Izabella down and told her about seeing a therapist, and she was hiding it from her husband because he wouldn’t understand her need for her memories. The Latina had understood and empathized with her. She swore she would not tell anyone and offered to help if she could. “You’ve been good to me. You’re nice. The last people I worked for weren’t that nice. That’s why I started working for you. Let me take care of you and the little señorita.” Layla had thanked Izabella for her loyalty.
It was Wednesday afternoon, and Layla was at the Tampa Palms Country Club. She was meeting Lacey for lunch. They usually ate out together once a week. This time, Layla suggested the country club since she was making more of an effort to being seen in the right places.
Her cell rang.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Layla, it’s me,” Lacey said. “Honey, I’m sorry, but I can’t meet you for lunch. Corey came home for lunch, and he has a surprise for me. But he has to take me to it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We can have lunch any time. Enjoy your surprise.”
“Thanks, I’ll call you later. Bye.” Lacey hung up.
Layla clicked off. She dropped the cell in her purse as she stood. Deciding that she didn’t want to eat alone at the country club, she walked to the maître d’ to let him know to cancel her table.
“Robert, I’m afraid I have to cancel my reservation.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Miles. Nothing’s wrong, I hope?” the middle-aged white man inquired.
“I hope everything is all right as well,” a familiar voice said behind her.
Layla turned around to see the handsome stranger who she met at the auction. “Mr. Mitchell, right?”
“Yes, but call me Carter,” he said with a sexy smile.
Layla cleared her throat. “I have to say, I’m surprised to see you again. I figured you’d be back in . . . New York, was it?”
“I decided to stay in Tampa for a little while to get a much-deserved break. I have a room here at the club.”
“Oh, how nice.”
“I came down to get a bite to eat. Are you and your husband having lunch here?”
“No. He’s at work. I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch here, but she had to cancel at the last minute.”
“Oh. Would you like to eat with me? I would like to pick your brain about charity functions. I was thinking about hosting one in New York.”
She thought for a moment as she looked at Carter’s sexy smile and calm demeanor. He was wearing a sharp, pinstriped suit with a silk, blue tie.
“My treat,” he said.
Layla was intrigued by his air of sophistication, and she didn’t have anything else planned for the afternoon. She grinned. “I’ll be happy to have lunch with you.”
“Excellent.”
“Would you like to be placed at your favorite table, Mr. Mitchell?” Robert asked with a small smile.
“Absolutely.”
Robert escorted them to a small, round table that could seat four. The maître d’ held the chair out for Layla, and she sat. Robert placed two lunch menus in front of them. “Your waiter should be with you shortly.”
“Thank you, Robert,” Layla said as she opened the menu.
The maître d’ nodded and walked away.
“I was thinking about ordering a bottle of wine. Would you like that?”
Layla looked at her watch. It was noon on the dot. “Yes, thank you.”
The waiter came over to fill their water glasses. Carter ordered a bottle of white wine and asked for more time to consider the menu. They chatted about what looked good to eat. Carter decided on fried shrimp, mixed vegetables, and a baked potato. Layla ordered a grilled chicken salad.
Carter picked her brain for ideas for a charity benefit that would raise money for inner-city school kids as they waited for their food. Fifteen minutes later, their lunch arrived.
“How’s your salad?”
“Delicious. How is your food?”
“Great. I have to say, this place has excellent food. Hugo and I eat most of our meals here.”
“So, when are you going back to New York?”
“Our flight leaves Friday. Why? Will you miss me?” he asked and then winked at her.
She bashfully chuckled and looked down at her plate. “We barely know each other.”
“Let’s get to know each other. Ask me anything,” he encouraged and popped a shrimp in his mouth.
“You said that you were a businessman. What kind of business are you involved in?”
“Oh, I’m a small entrepreneur. I own a restaurant in Jersey and New York, three dry cleaners, and four convenient stores.”
He did well for himself, but his wardrobe and Rolex said that he was more than a small business owner. “Is that it? I mean, it’s impressive, but I have a feeling that there is more,” she inquired.
Carter chuckled. “You’re sharp. I like that. I own several stocks and bonds that I get . . . nice dividend checks from.”
Layla nodded and took a bite of her salad.
“So tell me about yourself. I know you’re married with one child. I saw the pictures of you and your family in the Tampa Bay magazine.”
“My daughter, Keisha, is three years old. My husband is a neurosurgeon. He has his own practice, and I’m a homemaker.”
“Do you have any interests outside of the home?”
That was the first time anyone had ever asked her that. “No, but I’m hoping to get some. I am finding that I like charity work.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a good cause to devote your free time to.” Carter was quiet for a moment as he looked at her. “I don’t mean any harm when I say this, but you seem so intelligent. It’s a shame to waste your smarts on . . . housework.”
She wasn’t offended by what he said. Matter of fact, she was happy that someone noticed that she had a brain. “I enjoy taking care of my family. And my life isn’t boring. The truth is . . . I don’t know what I like to do.”
“What did you like to do before you got married?”
She swallowed. Telling her story of amnesia was getting redundant. It seemed to suck all the air out of the room when she revealed her condition to someone. But it was the only story she had. “I don’t remember. I was in a bad car accident. My leg was broken in two different places. I also had a sprained neck and amnesia.”
If he was surprised by the information, he didn’t show it. “I’m sorry. I take it you are still suffering from amnesia?”
“Yes.”
“Were you married when this happened?”
“No, but I was engaged. Damien was there every step of the way. He filled in some blanks. You know, I had asked him what I liked to do back then. He said I liked to cook, but when I got out of the hospital, I couldn’t remember how. Matter of fact, when I first tried, I burned the macaroni and smoked up the kitchen when I tried baking a cake,” she said with a hint of amusement.
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Hopefully, you got past that phase.”
She giggled. “Yes. I’m a great cook now. Actually, I’ve been looking to upgrade my technique to more complex, yet tasty dishes.”
“Are you going to take a cooking class? Some chefs offer private lessons. For a fee, of course. Italian and French cuisine seem popular.”
She beamed at the suggestion. “That’s a great idea.”
He grinned. “How long ago was your accident?”
“Four years ago.”
Carter nodded and forked some potatoes. “What else did your husband tell you about your past?”
She decided to give him the short answer that she gave everyone. Of course, there was more to it, but she was embarrassed by her birth parents. “I was adopted, and my adopted parents died on a cruise ship. Apparently, it was a big scandal when it happened. The entire cruise line was shut down because of it. I had just turned nineteen when it happened.”
His head jerked backward. “That’s horrible. I remember tha
t. The cruise line had to shut down because of all the wrongful death suits. What were their names?”
“Zander and Jamie Neilson. My father was a prosecutor, and my mother worked in banking. Damien didn’t know exactly what my mother did at the bank. They died before we met.”
“So, after four years, you haven’t remembered one thing before the accident?”
“Recently, I remembered an old boyfriend that I had. We were pretty young, but I don’t know exactly what age.”
“Probably an old high school boyfriend,” he remarked as he sipped his wine.
“Yeah,” she said and sipped some water. She didn’t want to elaborate on her past relationship with Alec Peterson. It was something between them, and she wasn’t going to reveal it to anyone until she learned more details about it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to turn into a depressing lunch. Let’s change the subject.”
“Fine by me.”
Carter started talking about the sites he had seen since he’d been in Tampa as they finished their meal. He even made her laugh a couple of times. During their talk, Layla found herself more attracted to the New Yorker. His smile was to die for, and the twinkle in his eye suggested that he was an exciting man. Carter poured the remaining wine into her glass as they continued to chat. He was telling her about the trip he took to Paris last year.
“Oh, it sounds like a wonderful city,” Layla said with awe.
“It is. And romantic. Has your husband ever taken you on an overseas trip?”
“No. Between him building his career for four years, having Keisha, and struggling to pay our bills, the only real vacation we ever had was our honeymoon.”
“Well, you two can afford it now, right?”
“Oh yes, but now we don’t have the time. When he’s not at the office, he’s at the hospital in surgery or on call. Sometimes he spends the night there.”
“Well, I understand business needs to be taken care of, but a beautiful woman like you needs attention,” he said as he stared into her eyes.
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