“Right. Cutie pants.”
She nodded. “Right when I started seeing him, I met this lawyer at my parents' house. He asked me out and we started seeing each other. Casually, I thought. 'Cause I didn't have any commitment to either guy. So I kept seeing both of them. But I couldn't choose between them. I liked them both. I finally decided I was going to tell the lawyer I couldn't see him anymore. He took me out to this fancy dinner he'd planned. I couldn't tell him during dinner, after all the trouble he'd gone to. So I was going to do it when he brought me home. But then I got caught by Joe's stepmom with him.”
“Color me busted.” He crossed his legs.
“So, now Joe won't speak to me. And it's breaking my heart.” Tears pooled in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but had to wipe them with a tissue instead as they spilled onto her cheeks.
“You want Sergeant Joe Friday back, huh?” He regarded her with sad eyes.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Yeah.”
He shook his head. “But he won't speak to you.”
“Nope.” More tears.
“My mama always says make the best of what you got. You got to pick yourself up by your boot straps and ease on down the road, honey.”
“I suppose I have to.”
“It's not like you don't have Mr. Lawyer man waiting in the wings. Give him a fair shot, honey.”
She managed a weak smile. “I'm going to.”
“Because if I hadn't given my Dwayne a chance…well I don't even want to think about it.” He shuddered. “I was dating Trevor when I met Dwayne. And, honey, I liked Trevor. But he dumped me for some highly processed brown sugar, if you get my drift. Anyway, when Dwayne and me first did the Cha-Cha, I said 'Sugar, you are way too much for this skinny boy. ' I was in pain, honey.”
She held up her hand for him to stop. “Antoine, no offense meant here. But that is way too much information.”
He giggled. “All right, sugar.”
She buffed his nails to a shine, then pronounced him manicured.
He looked at his hands and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You the bomb, babe.”
Her mood brightened a bit. Antoine had the power to make her smile. And she needed to smile. Desperately. Some days it felt like she’d never be truly happy again.
* * * * *
Saturday afternoon, as Renee ate her lunch, she mulled over telling Pam that Pablo had gotten married. After witnessing how her own duplicity had screwed with her relationships, she felt compelled to turn over a new leaf. Yes, she would set Pam straight when she came for her fill in a few minutes. Hopefully she wouldn't shoot the messenger.
Honesty was her new best policy. And when she went antiquing with Cleave later, she'd tell him about Joe. Well, maybe.
“Sorry, Renee,” Pam called into the kitchen. “I was shopping and the time got away from me.”
“No problem. I don't have anyone after you.” She headed to her station and got out her supplies.
Pam set her jacket over the chair then sat down. “Good. You get out a little early today, huh?”
“Yeah. I have a date to go antiquing.” She chipped away the loose acrylic on Pam's nails and tried to think of a way to steer the conversation to Pablo.
“Still dating the cop?”
“Nope. This is a different guy.” She filed, avoiding her gaze. “Have you seen Pablo lately?”
“We have a date tomorrow night. He's taking me to a comedy club in Kissimmee.”
“Why so far away?”
“He said there's a comedian he wants to see.”
She suspected his motives were to stay away from town, where he might be recognized. It was the perfect opportunity to bring up the subject of Pablo’s marriage, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything about it. “What else is new?”
“I went shopping this morning.”
“Yeah, you said that already.”
“For maternity clothes.”
Renee dropped her jaw. Oh, God, no.
“Aren't you going to congratulate me?” A big smile light up Pam’s face.
“Y-yeah. Congratulations. When did you find out?” She tried to school the shock from her face.
“I did a test yesterday. I'm so excited.”
“D-does Pablo know?” She kept her eyes on the woman's hands, afraid she'd give away her total abhorrence about the pregnancy.
“I'm going to tell him tomorrow over dinner. We're eating at a French restaurant. I think it'll be a romantic setting.”
Renee tried to keep her voice level. “What do you think his reaction will be?”
Pam shifted in her seat, pulling her hands back a little. Renee tugged them toward her.
“We haven't discussed it since that first night. But I think he'll be excited, too.”
“Have you thought about what his role will be?”
“I guess that's up to him.” She frowned. “Why are you being so…so pessimistic?”
“I'm just asking about your expectations. I'm not being optimistic or pessimistic.”
Pam suddenly jerked her hands away. “I have to use the bathroom. I'll be right back.” She picked up her purse and stomped off.
Renee wondered if she'd gone too far. She was too chicken to tell Pam the truth. Maybe honesty wasn't always the best way. It clearly wasn't the easy way. Pablo was making a fool of her, but there was nothing Renee could do to stop him. For now she’d have to keep her knowledge of Pablo to herself. If she didn't, she feared she'd lose a client. Suddenly telling Cleave the truth didn't seem like such a good idea.
Pam returned a minute later wearing a sullen expression.
“I'm sorry if I've upset you.” Renee dipped her brush in acrylic liquid, then dabbed it into a jar of white powder to form a bead of acrylic.
Pam's eyes were red. “I want everybody to be excited. So far, no one is but me. That's like a major bubble buster.”
“Bubble buster?” She placed a ball of soft acrylic onto the base of Pam's pinkie nail, then flattened it into place.
“You know what I mean. I feel like everybody's judging me.”
“I'm sorry. I'll try to be excited. Who else have you told?”
“A couple of my friends at the hospital. And my sister. She's just jealous, though.”
“I really hope Pablo reacts the way you want him to.” She squeezed Pam's hand and offered up a silent prayer.
“Me too. I’ll do this on my own if I have to. But I've realized something. I want Pablo there with me and our child.”
“That's only natural. I'm sure it'll all work itself out.” But she knew better.
“Of course it will. Look, sometimes things happen for a reason. Maybe it’s fate or kismet. But when the universe throws something at you, you have to be prepared to catch whatever it is.”
She tried to keep her expression and her words positive as they discussed happy baby things like cribs, gender-neutral decor and shower ideas.
As she cleaned up after Pam left, she thought about what her client had said about fate. Perhaps there was a reason she’d lost Joe, even though she was suffering through the loss and the fact that she’d hurt him so badly. But she had to consider the possibility that her getting caught with Cleave had been divine intervention, the universe trying to push her into Cleave’s arms.
Maybe her family had been right after all. Cleave was wealthy and black and close to her family. She could make things work with him, couldn't she?
Somehow she was going have to forget about Joe and move on with Cleave.
Chapter Ten
“I like this one.” Renee pointed to a French provincial buffet at the antiques mall.
Cleave gave it a quick glance, then checked the price tag. “That'll work.”
After he’d arranged to have it delivered, they walked through the halls, holding hands, marveling at some of the pieces. She helped him pick out ornately carved end tables for the living room, an Art Deco bedroom set for one of the unfurnished bedrooms as well as the b
uffet. He deferred to her judgment on every piece. It felt good, having him value her advice.
After they'd made their purchases, they drove to Mount Dora, a quaint nearby village filled with boutiques, antique shops and turn-of-the-century architecture. They strolled the charming streets until they found a restaurant with a lake view.
“I'll have the salmon,” Renee told their waiter, although she hadn’t had much of an appetite for days now.
“Make mine the broiled Mahi.” Cleave closed his menu, dismissing the waiter with a nod. “I want to thank you for all your help today, Renee.”
“I enjoyed it. I think it'll all look fantastic in your house.” She was proud of her knowledge of antiques. It was rare that she got to show it off.
“Me too. You know what else would look fantastic in my house?”
“What?”
“You.” He took her hand.
She blanched, still uncomfortable with all his compliments. Time for a subject change. She told him all about her trip to Daytona and Becky's meeting with her son.
Cleave gave her a brief rundown including only the permissible details about a case he was working on. They had a pleasant dinner and drive back to Orlando but her mood wouldn’t lift past the blah range.
He walked her to the door and gave her a goodnight kiss. She waited for her toes to curl, but her body refused to comply.
She invited him in for a glass of wine. Since she had resolved to give the relationship a chance, she kept reminding herself of his attributes. He was funny and charming and interesting to talk to. After the wine, he reluctantly left, kissing her tenderly. She tried to feel the butterflies, but they must have been sleeping.
Soon, she assured herself. If she dug really deep, maybe she’d find that zing she’d felt with Joe from the very first kiss.
* * * * *
“The adoption ball is officially rolling,” Melissa said, during her Tuesday morning manicure. “We've started on an adoption book.”
“What's that?” Renee massaged her client's hand.
“You gather pictures of all your family members and write a little something about them. Then there's a section for photos of our house, where we work, pets and stuff like that. It's for a birth mother to see what type of home her baby will be entering. The lawyer told us the book can be the deciding factor when a birth mother is choosing between several adoptive families.”
“Would you stay in contact with the birth mother?” Ever since she’d met Becky's son, she was fascinated with the subject.
“That would depend on what we think of each other. I mean that's something the birth mother and the adoptive parents have to work out. Ultimately, it goes the way the birth mother dictates since she holds all the cards.”
“Did the lawyer give you any kind of time line?”
“If we get lucky we might find a baby within six months. But it could take over a year.” She wrinkled her nose. “Of course, we're hoping for right away.”
Renee shrugged. “You'd wait nine months even if you had your own.”
“Right. And we're okay with that. We're very lucky we can afford all this. Take a guess what the price range is.”
“I don't know. Ten thousand?” She sipped her coffee.
Melissa shook her head. “Try up to thirty. The legal fees are phenomenal. And we'd be paying the hospital bill for mama and baby.”
“Wow. Out of the question for most people.”
“I'm sure it is. You can always go the public route, but it takes much longer and it's harder to get a baby. If you're willing to take an older child, it's quicker. But an older child probably has lots of issues. They've been in the system and were probably abused on some level. Thank God there are folks willing to take on some of those kids, but that's not what Rich and I are looking for.”
“What's your next step?”
“A home study done by a social worker. That could take a while. They make several visits to your house to make sure you're not a slasher or something.”
“That's the part that'll get you,” she teased.
Melissa snickered. “Right. They'll find me out, for sure. The lawyer will get us as much information on the birth mother and her family as he can. Then you pray for the best.”
The massive cost involved in adoption got her thinking about finances. She’d been handling paying the salon’s bills and they were barely making it. She hadn’t mentioned their precarious financial position to Becky because she’d been so preoccupied with meeting Justin. Although the money problems had begun before that. But she was now the stronger, more honest Renee so she had to come clean with her partner.
After she finished with Melissa, she found Becky in the kitchenette. “Got a second?” She sidled onto the stool next to her friend.
“Sure,” Becky said. “What's up?”
“I'd like to run another ad to rent out the last chair. If we can find someone, maybe we could hire a part time receptionist. Another renter will really help with our bills since things have been pretty tight. What do you think?”
“Okay with me.”
“Great.” That was easy. “Have you set anything up for Justin to meet your family yet?”
“We're working on it. I think it'll be in a couple of weeks. I told Charles all about it. He said he'd like to meet him too. That made me feel really good.” She smiled dreamily. “I think I'm in love.”
Renee hugged her friend. “I'm so happy for you, Beck.” She wished her own love life were as uncomplicated as her friend's.
After lunch, she checked the thermostat because the shop seemed too warm. The air conditioner was set on seventy degrees, but the temperature was almost eighty. She went out back to look at the unit. It wasn't running.
She flipped the circuit breaker, but the unit still didn't come on. Her next move was to call the repair company, always a costly experience. After discussing it with Becky, they decided they had no other choice. Neither woman knew anyone who could fix an air conditioner.
A repairman arrived three hours later. By then, everyone in the shop was uncomfortable. All the ceiling fans were going at full speed, as well as two big floor fans, but the constant use of hair dryers and curling irons sent the temperature soaring.
Finally, the air clicked on. The repairman declared the unit fixed. The bad news was that he had to replace a major part, thus the bill came to seven hundred dollars.
There went the receptionist idea. She wanted to cry. Why couldn't she ever get ahead? What else could go wrong?
* * * * *
“Cleave's making us lots of money, Renee. He'll be a partner in no time at all,” Gary said over drinks at Renee’s parents’ house Friday night.
The whole family was there. They'd even invited Cleave. They all seemed infinitely pleased that they were dating, yet they still felt the need to extol Cleave's attributes. She wished it were Joe here instead of Cleave. Guilt panged at her heart for the thought.
“Put your money where your mouth is, Gary,” Cleave teased.
“Renee, have you seen Cleave's boat?” Her mother quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Yes, Mama, I have.” She rolled her eyes.
“I hear he’s teaching you to play golf.” Her father puffed out his chest.
“We're still working on driving the cart.” Cleave grinned at Renee.
Gary Junior ran into the room. “Can't get me, can't get me.”
Alyssa was hot on his trail.
Cleave grabbed the child and slung him over his shoulder as Gary Junior screamed and giggled. “I've got you now”
The boy struggled to no avail. Alyssa caught up with him and jumped up to try to reach her brother.
“Sorry, Alyssa. I got him first.”
For a moment, Alyssa just stood there looking up. Then she clenched her fists and kicked Cleave in the shin. He was so surprised that he nearly dropped Gary Junior. He put the boy down and Alyssa got her chance to tag her brother as they ran off.
“Alyssa!” Char shouted. But it
was too late. The child was gone.
“Resourceful little thing.” Cleave rubbed his shin.
“Never underestimate a Wright woman.” Renee grinned at him. He was such a good sport. He even seemed to like her niece and nephew, rotten as they were.
“I'll take that under advisement.” He matched her gaze and smiled.
Renee’s body warmed. She didn't know if it was the gin and tonic or Cleave, but maybe she was starting to develop feeling for him.
As they were leaving the Wright home, he asked her to stop by his house to see how his new antiques looked. “I need your expert eye.”
She knew it was a ploy, but she agreed and followed him to Woodland Heights. Her heart pounded and her mouth was dry. Every time they were alone together lately he tried to talk her into his bed but she just wasn’t ready.
After they arrived at his house, he got them each another drink. Then they headed upstairs to view the new bedroom furniture.
Hands on her hips, she surveyed the room. “It looks great. I'm so pleased. But the important thing is how do you like it. It’s your house after all.”
“I like what I see. A lot.”
When she glanced at him, she realized his gaze was fixed on her, not his new furniture.
He closed the distance between them and took her hands in his. “I want to make love to you, Renee. Tonight.”
Her heart pounded. Wasn’t as if he was some ugly troll. Hell, half her friends would give their right arm for a man like him. He was exactly the sort of guy Toy called a prize. But something didn’t click for her, not yet. “I need more time.”
He dropped her hands and bristled. “How long am I supposed to wait? I want you here with me, living in my house, sleeping in my bed. I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to make that happen.” An edge of impatience tinged his tone. He grazed his knuckles over her cheek.
She drew a breath laced with his scent. He toyed with the collar of her blouse, then opened the top button. She shut her eyes and let him continue.
“You’re so pretty.” Then his hands were on her and his mouth.
Wrong Way Renee Page 17
