Martina startled when a hand landed on her shoulder.
“Eat before your food gets cold,” Paul said nodding toward the plate that he had set down in front of her.
The smell of oregano, basil, and tomato sauce tickled her nose and her mouth watered at the sight of the plate of lasagna. She hadn’t eaten much at the brunch. Her stomach had been in knots about what to do about Paul.
Now thoughts of her mother wreaked havoc in her mind. Martina owed her a huge apology for her behavior over the years. Unfortunately, saying I’m sorry didn’t come easy.
Paul pushed the plate closer to Martina.
“Eat.”
Her gaze took in the cheesy lasagna and her stomach growled in anticipation.
“My favorite,” she mumbled and accepted the fork from Paul. She took a bite, closed her eyes and groaned. The man could cook for her any day.
“You know you say that about everything I cook. How am I going to know which meal is your real favorite?” He sat next to her and opened two beers, placing one near her plate.
“Everything you cook is my favorite,” she responded honestly over a mouthful of food. She knew some men who cooked well, but none like Paul. He’d often talked about going to culinary school and then opening a restaurant. But as far as she was concerned, he didn’t need schooling. The man was a natural born chef.
She ate while he nursed his beer. No doubt he was waiting for her to talk more about the tears that caught even her off guard. He probably also wanted a better explanation of why she was there, especially after she’d been avoiding him.
Martina wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t one of those crying women, but leaving her grandparent’s home, she hadn’t realized just how heavy her heart had been until she pulled out of the driveway. Before she knew it, she was on her way to Paul.
She continued eating in silence. Paul’s patience with her should qualify him for sainthood, making her love him that much more.
When Martina finished eating, she and Paul snuggled together on the over-sized sofa in his den. She shivered beneath the blanket he’d given her the moment they sat down.
“Why do you have it so cold in this room?”
Paul’s lips quirked. “So that whenever you’re here, you’ll be forced to sit close to me.”
She stared at him and burst out laughing. “Is that the best you can do? Surely that line doesn’t work on other women.”
“If you haven’t figured it out by now, there is no other woman for me.”
Gazing into his eyes, her heart split open with what she felt for him. She cupped his cheek, the pad of her thumb caressing the short stubble.
“I love you, Paul.”
She was so glad he didn’t say anything. His head lowered, and her toes curled at the slow, passionate kiss that had her whimpering for more.
God, she loved this man.
Happiness filled her, and no other words were needed. Since coming back into her life, he had shared his feelings for her and had shown her too.
Martina needed to decide how much of herself she was ready to give to him. But right now, she didn’t want to talk or think. All she wanted to do was get lost in the love that she felt just being in his arms.
*
Paul held Martina in the crook of his arm as they lay snuggled on his sofa. He was glad she had come to him. They still hadn’t talked about where to go from there, but he’d been patient this long, there was no harm in waiting a little longer.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, running his hand up and down her arm. Her skin so soft, he couldn’t stop touching her.
“I think I want us to be more than friends with benefits.”
Paul’s breath stalled in his chest and seconds ticked by before he was able to exhale. Had he not being lying down, her words would have knocked him on his butt.
All this time, he had craved her like an addict craved his next fix, and she was finally his. Although there was something still a little unsettling about her tone. Still some insecurity. He had a feeling there was going to be more to her statement. He’d known her long enough to know that nothing came easily with her.
She didn’t expound, and he remained quiet. Snuggled close to his side, Martina made small circles on his chest with the tip of her finger.
She glanced up at him. “I do have a few conditions.”
And there it was.
Paul brought her small hand to his mouth and kissed the back of each finger before speaking.
“Martina, I’m not negotiating for love. You know how I feel about you, and I finally know how you feel about me. You’re either in this with me or not. There won’t be any of this one foot in and one foot out in this relationship. So what’s it going to be? You in … or are you out?”
He rested her hand on his chest, covering it with his.
Their gazes met and held.
Come on baby. Give me a chance. Give us a chance.
“I’m in.”
Chapter Fourteen
Paul entered the gate code at the entry of his parent’s estate in Indian Hill. He had flown into Cincinnati an hour ago and figured he would head straight to their home since his mother insisted on seeing him. Paul had called her a couple of times before leaving the airport, hoping that whatever she wanted to see him about could be covered in a telephone conversation. He should have known she would ignore his calls. When Angelica Kendricks summoned you, you went.
Paul drove around the semi-circular drive and stopped in front of the brick, seven bedroom, ten bathroom home where he and his two sisters had grown up. He shut off the engine and took in the two-story, castle-like home that sat on five plus acres. The elegant, European manor-style building was his mother’s pride and joy, fitting the bigger than life image she insisted on flaunting.
Workers were out front hanging Christmas lights. It was early November, but his mother always wanted the home decorated before the holiday season. Soon she would be full steam ahead in the numerous parties she hosted between then and the New Year.
Paul sighed.
“Might as well get this over with.” The moment he stepped out of his vehicle, the front double doors opened.
A smiled lifted the corners of his lips. “Hey Janice. You sure are a sight for sore eyes.” He hugged the woman who had been more like a mother than a housekeeper to him since he was eight years old.
“Oh stop, you sweet talker.” She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek like always. “Come on in. Your mother stepped out for a minute, but she says she’ll be back shortly.”
Paul closed the doors. He walked past the semi-spiral staircase and crossed the large, marble foyer, following Janice into the kitchen.
“It smells like you’ve been baking.” Paul sat at the breakfast bar that overlooked the state of the art kitchen. Many days he had sat in the same spot while Janice roamed around the kitchen preparing one of her masterpiece meals. She had been the one to spark his interest in cooking. Once his grandfather noticed his interest, he encouraged Paul by teaching him to cook.
“You look tired,” Janice said instead of responding to his comment about baking. “Have you been sleeping?” She stood before him, hands resting on her plump hips.
Paul didn’t bother lying. He always thought Janice could read his mind.
“Not much. I’ve been pretty busy these last few weeks.” He didn’t tell her he hadn’t been able to sleep because a certain, cutie-pie carpenter had been occupying his mind and his bed whenever he was in town.
“So who is she?”
Paul’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”
“You heard me.” She strolled away and brought over a familiar container and sat it in front of him. “I recognize the look.”
Paul chuckled, his gaze on the covered dish knowing what was under the lid.
“I swear I think you’re a mind reader.”
She lifted the lid and set it aside. His mouth watered at the site of his favorite cookies, Pecan Sandies.
&nbs
p; Biting into one, he shook his head and chuckled again. This was how she always got him to talk about his problems when he was a kid, like when he’d been bullied in grade school. Or the time in high school when Cheris Jones dumped him during sophomore year, the day before homecoming. Janice’s listening ear and her Pecan Sandies got him through those rocky times.
“So how do you do it?” Paul asked as she pulled a roasting pan out of the oven.
“When it’s a girl that’s on your mind, or should I say a woman in this case, you have a little twinkle in your eye. Even exhaustion can’t hide it.” She dropped her oven mitts on the counter near the stove and sat next to him. “So who is she?”
Paul bit into his second cookie debating on how much to tell the family’s housekeeper who was his childhood confidant. What could he tell her? That he was deeply in love with a woman he thought he had gotten over a year ago? A woman who had finally agreed to a serious relationship, but still seemed to be holding back.
“Is this the same woman who broke your heart about a year ago?”
Paul’s eyebrows dipped as he turned to Janice. “What? How? I haven’t mentioned one woman to you since before high school graduation. What makes you think someone dumped me?”
“I didn’t say she dumped you. I said she broke your heart. So is this the same woman?”
“Yes.” He turned back to the cookie container. The last thing he wanted to do was get full on cookies, especially since he and Martina had plans for dinner later, but the Pecan Sandies were a welcome treat. “She’s the woman for me, but I’m not sure she’s ready for the life I want with her, though she claims she is.”
He shared how he and Martina ran into each other two months earlier, as well as how he hired Jenkins & Sons Construction to do the renovations on his home.
Once he was done telling his story, they sat in silence.
“If she’s the woman you can see growing old with, don’t give up on her. She must be very special for you to go through so much to get her attention.
Paul chuckled. She was special all right.
Just then, his mother breezed into the room like a category seven hurricane. She looked as if she’d just stepped out of one of the stores on Fifth Avenue in New York City, her home away from home. By the chic black and gray dress she had on, and her hair falling in curls around her shoulders, it was safe to say she had just returned from an outing with some of her girlfriends. He could usually tell where she’d been based on her outfit, hair and which diamonds she pulled out of her jewelry box.
“Oh good. I’m glad you’re here,” she said by way of greeting. She went straight to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. “Oh and Janice, we won’t be home for dinner tonight.”
Janice acknowledged the comment with a bow of her head and went back to work in the kitchen.
Paul hated when his parents did this. No regard for the fact that Janice always prepared elaborate meals which often took more than a few hours of work. Instead of informing her days in advance or even that morning that they had plans for dinner, they would tell her an hour before dinner was to be served.
“Hello, mother.”
“Oh hi dear.” She gave a slight wave as if saying hello had been an afterthought. “We’re having an all-black cocktail party here, two weeks from Friday, and I need you to be here.”
“Why?” He grabbed yet another cookie hoping its sweetness could dull the sudden bitterness in his mouth. His mother was notorious for theme parties or parties period. And he didn’t know why he bothered sitting there waiting for her to ask something of him that Paul was sure he wouldn’t want to do.
“We’re having a few people over, and many of them are your constituents. It’s time we start thinking seriously about the presidency and—”
“Stop.” Paul wiped his mouth and stood. “I’m not doing this tonight. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you and dad that I’m not interested in running for president.”
“Oh Paul, quit being so dramatic. I’m not saying you have to run in the next election, but thinking about the presidency is the next step for you, dear.”
Paul walked over to Janice and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for the cookies and for listening,” he whispered close to her ear.
Good luck she mouthed before he pulled away.
Of course, his mother was oblivious to the whole exchange as she stared down at her cell phone.
“Bye mother.” He moved past her and headed for the entrance of the kitchen.
“Paul.”
Before she could say more, the doorbell rang.
Janice excused herself to get the door, and a weird feeling swirled around Paul. He glanced at his mother who positioned herself in a kitchen chair. She crossed her leg, her modest heeled shoe dangling from her foot as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
People rarely stopped by without his mother’s knowledge. Not only that, normally she would be fixing her hair or adjusting her clothes, making sure she looked perfect.
“What are you up to, Mother?”
“I don’t know what—”
“Mrs. Kendricks, Mrs. Chambers, and her daughter are here to see you,” Janice said when she reentered the kitchen. “I put them in the study, but would you prefer I show them to the kitchen?”
“The study is fine, Janice.”
Paul shook his head. “You are a real piece of work. Trying to ambush me. I’m not sticking around for this. I’m outta here.”
“Paul please.” His mother touched his arm. “Don’t leave like this. I just want you to meet Antoinette. She’s a lovely woman, who I think you’ll like.”
“Mother, how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t need, nor do I want you fixing me up with any of your friend’s daughters?”
“I don’t always set you up, but that’s beside the point. You can’t keep attending these events solo, and when you do, at least, talk to some of the women. Soon people will think that yo—”
“I don’t care what people think. I’m not interested in any of the women you think are right for me.”
“Dear, you are continuing the family’s political dynasty and will need a good, well-bred woman by your side. At least, meet her. Besides, it wouldn’t be nice for you to walk out without at least saying hello.”
Mention of the family political dynasty made him want to walk out the door and not look back.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I have plans for this evening and need to run a few errands before then.”
She followed behind him as he headed to the front door, but before he could leave, two women stepped into the doorway of the study. One he recognized as his mother’s friend. The other he assumed was her daughter.
“Paul, you remember, Gladis Chambers, don’t you?”
“Hello, Mrs. Chambers. Nice to see you again.”
“You too, Paul. I’d like for you to meet my daughter, Antoinette. She’s in town for a few weeks before returning to Maryland.”
“Nice to meet you,” Paul said shaking Antoinette’s hand.
“You too, Senator. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Please call me Paul.”
“Paul it is.”
Her seductive tone and the way her hungry gaze raked down the length of him was an immediate turnoff. Not that he would have been interested anyway. She was tall for a woman with a pretty face and a fit body, but she wasn’t what he wanted in his life. She wasn’t Martina.
“Well, it’s been nice seeing you both, but I have to get going.”
“Oh, I was hoping we could get to know each other better. I’m very interested in your position on gun control as well as the bill you proposed regarding educational funding. I had hoped to hear more about your political stand on the subjects.”
Paul almost laughed out loud. Maybe he should be interested in a person who supported his work. All he could think about was the feisty woman across town who thought his political spiel was hogwash.
“Sorry, I can’t
stay. My girlfriend is probably wondering what’s taking me so long.” He felt a little pleased with himself at his mother’s gasp. “Maybe I’ll see you here in a couple of weeks at the party. Until then, you ladies take care.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Mother,” he said and headed for the door, not stopping until she called out to him, his hand on the doorknob.
“Paul, wait.” A smile flitted across his mother’s lips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone? Who is she?” She snapped her finger, not giving him a chance to respond. Though he wasn’t sure, he was ready to tell her about Martina. “I know. Its Elizabeth, Congressman Moody’s daughter, isn’t it? I noticed her interest in you this summer at her father’s barbecue, but I’m surprised you’re interested in her. She came across as a little pushy and insincere. Who would want to be with someone like that?”
“Yeah, why would I—”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Paul?” Janice chimed in. He hadn’t seen her near the stairs.
Paul smiled when he met her gaze. She must have sensed that he was about to tell his mother that Elizabeth was too much like her for him to ever be interested. It probably was best to leave that conversation alone.
“You’re right, Ms. Janice. I should be going. Goodbye, mother.” He opened the door and stepped outside.
“Just make sure you’re here for the party … with a date.” His mother said to his back. “I mean it, Paul.”
As far as Paul was concerned, he was only attending the party with one person. And he knew she’d rather drive a nail into her hand before she rubbed shoulders with the type of people who would be in attendance.
Paul smiled to himself as he drove away from the house. If he decided to ask Martina, and she said yes, he knew he’d have a good time. But would she say yes?
*
“Heck no, I don’t want to attend some stuffy party at your parent’s house. Are you crazy? Can you see me, at a party with your constituents?” Martina said and took their coats to the closet.
Martina shook her head as she hung their garments on hangers. She didn’t know if she was ready to be on display? She was just getting used to them being an official couple and now this.
Negotiating for Love Page 13
