Valentine's Fantasy: When Valentines CollideTo Love Again

by Adrianne Byrd

  “I haven’t had time to write your letter of recommendation,” Miss Ekert said regrettably. “I’ll do it right now.”

  She began walking toward her office, which was in the rear of the building.

  “That’s all right,” Karen called after her. “I have an up-to-date resumé. I’m sure that if whoever hires me is interested in my previous place of employment, they will phone you.”

  She had forced back the impending tears and was more composed as she stood in front of Miss Ekert and reached for her hand. She smiled as she shook Miss Ekert’s thin, pale hand. “I’ve enjoyed working here the past two years. Good luck with the downsizing. I hope it keeps you afloat.” About as well as a dingy with a hole in it the size of a watermelon, she thought.

  That image must have brought an elated glint to her brown eyes because Miss Ekert breathed a sigh of relief and pumped her hand enthusiastically. “I’m so happy we could part friends, Karen. It pains me so to let you go.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it’s hard for you. But don’t worry about me. I’m young and smart. I’ll find another job.”

  A couple of the agents, both attractive blondes, came over to say their farewells.

  “I’ll miss you, Karen,” the taller one said, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Take care of yourself,” said the other.

  Karen simply smiled and turned to leave.

  Her vision was blurred by tears as she walked around the building to her car. As she got behind the wheel of the 1980 Toyota Corolla, she hoped it would start. It needed a lot of work done on it. For the last few months, she’d been driving on a wing and a prayer. She turned the key in the ignition. It started right up. She laughed hysterically. At least she would be saved from one more indignity today.

  Chapter 3

  When Alana arrived at the house on Nob Hill, she was met at the door by a curious Maria who dogged her steps all the way to the kitchen. Alana knew Margery’s kitchen as well as she knew her own, so she went directly to the pantry, where she hung her purse on one of the hooks provided for the kitchen staff’s belongings.

  She had removed the letter with the intention of showing it to Margery and Toni.

  She unfolded it and gave it to Maria to read. “I received that this morning. Some prankster thought it would be amusing to send me a message that would remind me of Michael.”

  Puzzled, Maria looked up at Alana after reading the note.

  “Who would do such a thing? Even if you don’t take it seriously, what kind of person would think of sending you such a message, and why?”

  “Someone who’s bitter?” Alana proposed, meeting Maria’s eyes. “Suppose you were in love with a man, then he gets killed, and you read in the paper that he’s survived by a wife. How would that make you feel?”

  “Angry, used, humiliated,” Maria replied disdainfully. “I would want to dance on his grave.”

  “Yes, but what good would it do?” Alana said, keeping her voice low. “He’s already dead.”

  Maria smiled. “I see what you mean. He’s gone but his wife is very much alive and probably living it up on his death benefits. Why not share some of your misery with her?”

  As they talked, Alana walked around to the various posts in the kitchen where her employees were busy preparing the cuisine for the upcoming party.

  She paused next to Clovis, who was chopping up leeks.

  “Hello, Clovis, how are you today?” she said.

  Clovis, a tall, dark-skinned native Californian, grinned at her, revealing large white teeth in his mustachioed face.

  “I’m doing well, thank you. You’re just in time to witness the fact that I’m using leeks and not onions in the vichyssoise. For some reason, Genero accuses me of doing otherwise.”

  “You’re doing beautifully,” Alana praised him. “I’ll be sure to mention to Genero that I saw the leeks with my own eyes.”

  She kept walking, but before she could pause at another workstation, Maria grasped her by the arm. “Wait a minute,” her friend began. “Why do you suppose she waited so long to start in on you? Why wait over a year?”

  “It will soon be Valentine’s Day,” Alana said, sounding quite sure of herself. “The holiday for lovers. It’s the time of the year when people all over the country turn their attention to romance. Maybe she has no one in her life. Maybe Michael was the man she thought she’d be with for the rest of her life.”

  “You’re making a lot of assumptions,” Maria said, looking serious. “What if you’re wrong and Michael was never unfaithful to you? Then what?”

  Before she could answer, Margery and Toni came into the room and descended upon Alana.

  “Darling. There you are, finally,” Margery exclaimed. Alana had concluded, years ago, that it was impossible for Margery to enter a room without seeming as though she was walking onto the stage of a packed theater.

  Alana kissed her proffered cheek. “Don’t get your pantyhose in a bunch, Little Momma. I’m fine. I just needed to talk to Nico before coming here.”

  “About what?” Margery asked petulantly. “What could be more important than my party?”

  Don’t lay it on too thickly, Toni thought. Margery really could be a ham when she wanted to be.

  Alana looked over at Maria, who handed Margery the letter.

  The color drained from Margery’s face when she read it. She silently passed it to Toni, who, untrained in the dramatic arts, managed to retain her coloring.

  “And what did Nico make of it?” Toni asked.

  “He believes it’s harmless. A reminder from a friend that I need to get on with my life,” Alana replied, watching Toni’s face. Her aunt wasn’t one to hide her emotions. If she was afraid for Alana’s safety, Alana would be able to read it in her facial expression.

  Toni’s placid features revealed nothing aside from curiosity.

  “How exciting,” Genero put in as he walked up and took the note from Toni. “A mystery. We’ll help you solve it, Alana. It’ll be fun. Sort of like that scavenger hunt we did for the Morrissey party last year. Who will find the culprit in the least amount of time?”

  “No, no,” Alana said, shaking her head. “May I remind you that we have two hundred guests arriving in a little under forty-eight hours? Someone must be here to make sure our plans are carried out, and that someone, dear Genero, is you. That’s why I hired you. I know how much you love a mystery, but your services are required right here.”

  Twisting his handsome face into a frown, Genero handed Alana the note and turned away. “I never have any fun.”

  “Back to my question,” Toni said. “Does Nico think anything needs to be done about this?”

  “As a matter of fact,” Alana began, “Nico and I are going to investigate the matter together. He promised to phone me as soon as he gets some free time.”

  Alana could have sworn she saw Margery give Toni a meaningful look and then the two aunts smiled at each other. Of course, they could have been pleased because she and Nico were back on speaking terms. They were aware that she had not seen him for over a month.

  “Well,” Margery said, clapping her hands, “then that’s settled. Genero will remain here and oversee the party, while you and Nico reenact an episode of ‘Murder, She Wrote.’ Although how you could leave me alone with that little man in my hour of need, I’ll never know. Haven’t I been good to you? Or do you harbor some secret resentment of your dear aunt?”

  Sighing, Alana placed a protective arm around her diminutive surrogate mother. “Little Momma, have I ever let you down? I have everything planned to the last detail. Genero is a godsend. My people are thoroughly professional. And I promise you, I will be in and out of here at least twice daily until the night of the party. And I will be the first to arrive when the festivities begin.”

  “All right,” Margery conceded, sounding like a child who was being coaxed out of a temper tantrum. “But you have to promise me that once you find the person behind this, you will put forth your bes
t effort to go forward with your life, my love.”

  “That’s why I’m doing this,” Alana said, reasonably. “I realize it’s time I did something positive about my suspicions instead of letting them fester. So, yes, I do promise.”

  She stood patiently while first Margery, then Toni, hugged her hard enough to almost require CPR afterward, then she continued her rounds, making certain the party preparations were being executed satisfactorily.

  “Alana and Nico spending time together will make them realize how much they need each other,” Toni said to Margery once they were alone. “So far, things are going beautifully.”

  “She’s definitely headed in the right direction,” Margery agreed happily.

  * * *

  As Nico maneuvered his black vintage 1966 Stingray through the afternoon traffic, heading toward the ocean, his mind was on Alana and how he was going to handle their makeshift investigation. Foremost in his thoughts was the conviction that he had to be totally honest with her. Which meant he had to confess to knowing about Michael’s affair.

  That knowledge had been eating away at his insides for some time now. He’d found out about Michael’s indiscretion quite by accident.

  One night after signing out at the station, Michael suggested they go grab a bite to eat but Nico had made other plans, so he begged off. By happenstance, they were both going to Oakland, and as Nico crossed the San Francisco–Oakland Bay Bridge, he spotted Michael’s car up ahead. At that moment he decided to follow him. Michael had recently started bringing up other women in their conversations. Michael was big on hypothetical situations. He’d often begin his sentences with, “What if...”

  Nico didn’t think Michael would have the nerve to come out and tell him he was having an affair because he knew Nico adored Alana. Nico was continually telling Michael how fortunate he was to have Alana. Deep down, Nico felt that Michael got a kind of perverse pleasure out of telling him all about his marital woes. Shortly before his death, his major complaint about Alana was that she wanted to wait another year before conceiving a child. She didn’t feel her business was on a good enough footing and wanted to concentrate on her work before becoming a mother.

  That night, Nico played a hunch through to the bitter end. Staying several car lengths behind Michael in order to avoid detection, he trailed him to an apartment complex in Oakland.

  Sitting in his car, he watched with fascination as Michael was met at the apartment door by a young, attractive woman who threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. Nico recalled thinking how domestic the scene looked. She could have been Michael’s wife greeting him after the close of a busy workday. The smile on Michael’s face was warm and inviting. Like he had every right to be kissing a woman who wasn’t Alana.

  Nico knew then that his partner had a secret life. In Daly City, he had Alana who, in Nico’s estimation, was the perfect wife. In Oakland, he had that pretty woman who’d enthusiastically fell into his arms. Undoubtedly neither woman suspected what Michael was up to. It took an unusual type of woman to willingly share her man with another woman. No. Michael was furiously juggling two lives. As with all secrets, it was just a matter of time before the truth came into the light. Nico’s sole concern was how long he could protect Alana from the knowledge and when she learned of Michael’s infidelity, how he could lessen the blow for her.

  When Michael was killed, Nico saw no reason to tell Alana of her husband’s proclivities. He thought her grief would take a natural course and she’d eventually go on with her life. Not being able to get inside her head, he had no way of gauging her true feelings. So all he could do was bide his time and be there for her should she need him.

  Sometimes, Nico found himself wishing he could turn back the clock to the moment he’d met her.

  He and Michael had been club-hopping that night, nearly four years ago. They’d been sitting at the bar in a blues club drinking cold beers when Nico heard a delightful feminine laugh. He thought it odd that he should be able to distinguish that sound from the cacophony of the band and the many other voices around him but he had and he followed the sound until his eyes rested on a lovely golden-brown skinned woman with shoulder-length tresses that reminded him of a raven’s wing. She looked up suddenly and their eyes met. She smiled at him. He smiled back, automatically coming up off his chair. Her smile was all the encouragement he needed.

  So entranced by her was he, that he hadn’t even noticed his partner, sitting right beside him, had also made eye-contact with her. Michael was already across the room before Nico was out of his seat.

  By the time Nico reached Alana’s table, Michael had pulled up a chair next to her and proceeded to charm the three women seated around it.

  In a matter of minutes, Michael and Alana were up dancing and Nico was left at the table with Bree and Georgie Shaw.

  “He doesn’t waste time, does he?” Georgie had commented dryly. She’d told him she was an attorney. She’d just passed the California bar examination. “On her first try,” her sister, who was an actress, had added proudly.

  “No,” Nico said regrettably. “Michael isn’t one to let grass grow under his feet.”

  “Is he nice?” Bree inquired sweetly. Nico had been somewhat taken aback by that question. How was he supposed to reply? Michael was his friend. “No, frankly, he’s a womanizer of the first order.” At least that would have been closer to the truth. However, they were out for an evening of fun and not armed with the gift of divination, Nico had no way of knowing that months later, Michael and Alana would be married. “He’s the best,” he’d said then.

  Later, as the evening waned, he’d gotten his chance to dance with Alana. However, by that time, it was obvious she was smitten with Michael.

  It was difficult for her to draw her eyes away from Michael’s handsome face as Nico pulled her into his arms for a slow dance.

  “Are you two good friends?” she asked, her voice husky.

  “We’ve known one another since the police academy,” Nico had told her. “That was almost two years ago.”

  “You’re both great-looking guys,” she’d said, looking up at him with those clear brown eyes. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Could she be interested in him?

  “Why aren’t you in a relationship?”

  Nico had gone on to explain the life of a cop to her: the long hours, the imminent danger that had a way of making you hesitant to bring another person into your life. She’d listened intently and her next words told him everything he needed to know about her. “It takes a special kind of person to do what you do and retain your innate humanness,” she had said, her voice low.

  “Stop that,” he’d joked. “Or you’re going to make a grown man blush.”

  She’d laughed a deep, throaty laugh that he’d found altogether delightful. He’d lost his heart there on the dance floor.

  In the intervening years, he’d simply fallen more in love with her. He thought of transferring to another city more than once but realized he couldn’t bear to be away from Alana for any great length of time. So he made up his mind to be the best friend to Alana that he could possibly be. When Michael showed his true colors, he would be there to look after her. He was helpless to do anything other than wait for the inevitable.

  Michael’s death had shocked them all. Nico had certainly never imagined such an abrupt conclusion to Alana’s marriage. A whole new set of rules applied here. He vowed to remain silent about Michael’s other life. When not on duty he comforted Alana, listened to her curse the Fates for putting her husband in the line of fire of murderous carjackers.

  Months after Michael’s death she was still trying to rid herself of his ghost and now that someone had created a mystery for her in the form of the letter she’d received this morning, Nico had only one option: to confess everything.

  Chapter 4

  “What are you doing home so early?” Geraldine Robinson asked of her daughter as Karen walked through the door of her apartment. She’d dropped by
the grocery store on the way home because Michael needed milk for his cereal in the morning.

  Her mother was sitting on the sofa, folding clothes. Michael was playing with his toy soldiers a few feet away. Geraldine dropped the towel she was folding back into the laundry basket and went to her daughter. “Karen?”

  Karen continued into the kitchen, where she placed the bag on the small table and began putting away the foodstuffs: the milk into the refrigerator, the green beans into the cabinet next to the stove. Finished, she faced her mother.

  “They fired me, Ma,” she said. Her bottom lip trembled as she fought back tears.

  Geraldine, a stout woman in her early fifties, enfolded her only child in her arms. “My poor baby,” she cooed. “Tell Momma everything.”

  Karen looked up into her mother’s clear, compassionate brown eyes and silently thanked God for her.

  “Miss Ekert said that the company is losing money so they had to cut back, which meant they could no longer afford to keep me. She said they could do without a receptionist,” she told her mother, her voice listless.

  Holding her at arm’s length, Geraldine looked up into her eyes. “You had outgrown them anyway,” she said positively. “A few more credits and you’ll have your business degree. I have a little money set aside. We can make it until you find something else. Don’t think of this as the end of the world, baby. Think of this as an opportunity to expand your horizons.”