Small Sensations

by Crystal V. Rhodes

  Small Sensations

  Crystal V. Rhodes

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  Indigo Love Stories

  An imprint of Genesis Press, Inc.

  Publishing Company

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  P.O. Box 101

  Columbus, MS 39703

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, not known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission of the publisher, Genesis Press, Inc. For information write Genesis Press, Inc., P.O. Box 101, Columbus, MS 39703.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

  Copyright© 2010 Crystal V. Rhodes

  ISBN-13: 978-1-58571-614-2

  ISBN-10: 1-58571-614-6

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  First Edition.

  Visit us at www.genesis-press.com or call at 1-888-Indigo-1-4-0.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all of those readers who have helped make this writing journey possible. Thank you.

  Acknowledgements

  Here we go again with another thank you to Joni and Eunice. You may think that what you do to help me out is minor, but it’s major to me.

  Thanks to Sidney Rickman for her editing. Your suggestions were good ones and helped a lot.

  PROLOGUE

  Luxury automobiles weaving along the deserted streets in this well-appointed neighborhood were not unusual, but there were no witnesses at this early morning hour as one jumped the curb. It narrowly missed a couple of garbage cans as it came to an abrupt stop. The driver’s door swung open and Davia Maxwell tumbled from its interior. Sinking to her knees, she knelt in the dew-dampened grass and vomited.

  Spent, she rose shakily and turned, intending to get back into the car, but her legs betrayed her as she reached for the door handle. She slowly slid to the ground and leaned against the vehicle. Silent tears streamed down her face.

  How had it happened? How had it come to this? She had always feared that her past and present might someday collide, but never had she imagined that it would do so with such deadly consequence.

  How old had she been when it all began? Twelve? So long ago, and yet at times it seemed like yesterday.

  She and her cousin Phyllis had been living in one of the many seedy hotels that they had occupied over the years. Since she hadn’t seen Phyllis for two days, she knew that her cousin must be on a binge. Still, she wished that she were home. That way she would know that she was safe. Phyllis was her only living relative, and if anything happened to her, she would be a child alone in the world.

  Finishing the hamburger that she had bought for dinner, she was putting the kettle on the hot plate to heat water for coffee when she heard the key click in the lock. Despite her feelings of relief, she frowned, crossed her arms and waited for her cousin to enter. But the face that greeted her was unfamiliar. It was a man’s face—his face—long, angular and fixed with a look of surprise.

  Explaining his presence, he told her that Phyllis had given him the key and asked him to wait upstairs, that she would be up shortly. With a shrug of her thin shoulders, she had resumed her duties.

  She didn’t fear him at first. When the water was hot, she made herself a cup of instant coffee; when he requested one, she obliged. Her plan had been to leave the room and retreat to the top of the stairs to her favorite place by the door leading to the roof. There she would draw pictures and wait until Phyllis had completed her business transaction. She was used to the routine. She had done it plenty of times.

  As she measured out the coffee and made a second cup, the man sat on the bed looking out the window, seemingly oblivious to her. But there was something about him, something that made her uneasy. She was a child of the streets—a survivor. Every sense she possessed was alert. Cautiously, she handed him the steaming cup, then turned to leave. That was when he made a move to grab her. He was swift, but she proved swifter. She ran to the door, grabbed the doorknob and pulled. It was locked. He grinned triumphantly as he slowly approached. She clawed frantically at the door, fear dominating her action. Suddenly the door opened and Phyllis appeared, catching both man and child off guard. Recovering quickly, the child darted past her, unfazed by the string of profanity that followed her as she scurried down the littered hallway.

  Still trembling from the narrow escape, she descended the stairs into the dark, dank basement that offered more security than the daylight above. There she opened the door of an abandoned closet. Long ago she had placed a blanket there for her comfort, and now she arranged it neatly with the fastidiousness of any twelve-year-old. Giving a final nod of approval to the pallet she had created, she shut the closet door firmly. She was safe—for now.

  It was a few days later that all sense of security for her proved to be an illusion. She was at her post as usual, keeping an eye out for the cops on behalf of the neighborhood drug dealer. It was winter, and the afternoon chill penetrated the thin jacket that she was wearing. She owned no hat or gloves and the harsh November wind was relentless. She rubbed her hands together to generate heat. Her shift would end at seven o’clock, and today was payday. The money was badly needed. Friday was rent day, food was running low, and she needed to buy a heavy coat.

  Jumping up and down, then around in circles, she was so preoccupied with keeping warm that she didn’t see her cousin coming. Without a word Phyllis jerked her from her post and dragged her around the corner into the alley so quickly that she didn’t have time to resist.

  A car was parked at the end of the alleyway. The tinted glass looked ominous. Slowly the back window came down and a face appeared. She was confused at first. Then fear took over as recognition dawned. It was him! She was being taken to him. She pulled back, her instinct for survival taking control. She fought, but it proved useless. As the struggle ended, she knew that from that moment on this man would haunt her nightmares.

  CHAPTER 1

  The middle of the work week was always hectic for Davia Maxwell, and this day proved to be no different. The hour-long morning meeting scheduled with her chief financial officer had turned into a three-hour session. It was rapidly approaching noon and all she could think about was getting through the luncheon meeting scheduled with the company’s division heads so that she could go home and relax. She was drained.

  Returning to her penthouse office, she dropped into the chair behind her oversized redwood desk and kicked off her shoes. With a sigh of relief, she wiggled her toes, enjoying the solitude of the moment. It didn’t last long.

  There was a short rap on her office door and CeCe—dressed as her alter ego, Charlotte Charmain Green, attorney—swept into the room without an invitation, which wasn’t unusual. CeCe was the only person in the building who would have the nerve to enter Davia’s office uninvited.

  “Hey, girl!” Her greeting was light, familiar and full of her trademark brass and sass.

  “Hey!” A tired smile lifted the corners of Davia’s mouth. CeCe always made her smile.

  The two women had met a dozen years ago at a college coffee shop. At the time Davia was a struggling business student and CeCe a struggling law student. Times were hard for both of them then, but times had changed. They were no longer struggling.

  Davia was a successful businesswoman, the founder and owner of Small Sensations, one of the larg
est manufacturers of children’s clothing in the nation, while CeCe headed a thriving law firm, Green & Associates, which specialized in corporate law. Small Sensations was one of the names among her firm’s roster of impressive clients. CeCe’s law firm was located on the second floor of the Small Sensations building, and, despite their busy schedules, the two friends made it a point to see each other often.

  Davia watched as her friend settled in one of the two wingback chairs across from her desk and kicked off her three-inch heels. Barely five feet two in her stocking feet, CeCe regarded the many pairs of heels that she owned as necessities. They gave her the height she needed when doing battle with the “big boys” in court. Cute, pert, a deep dark brown, with soft brown eyes and a dimpled smile, CeCe resembled a miniature doll as she curled her feet beneath her and settled comfortably in the chair. With her petite frame, she looked fragile, but she was as tough as nails when she needed to be. Opponents who had faced her in court could attest to that, yet to her friends she was warm, generous and loyal. She and Davia were as close as sisters.

  CeCe smiled back at Davia, noting the tired lines around her eyes. “Are you sure you’re going to make it tonight?”

  Davia looked at her in confusion. “Tonight? What’s happening tonight?”

  CeCe looked incredulous. “Our little munchkin’s open house at school? How could you forget that?”

  Davia wanted to laugh at the look of disbelief on CeCe’s face. Her friend took her duties as Gabby’s godmother seriously, viewing each event in the child’s life as major. As far as CeCe was concerned, Gabby walked on water. The woman had more pictures and videos of the four-year-old’s life than Davia had, and that was saying something. They both prided themselves on keeping up with the child’s activities. There hadn’t been many events in which Gabby participated that either of them had missed. Usually, Davia was on top of each and every activity pertaining to Gabby. Somehow, this one had slipped her mind. She didn’t remember seeing anything about it on the school bulletin board or in the many announcements that Gabby brought home. She tried to recall hearing anything about the open house and drew a blank.

  “Well? You are going, aren’t you?” CeCe prompted.

  Mentally, Davia reviewed her schedule for the evening. There was nothing that couldn’t be done at a later date. She’d made a promise to herself when Gabby was born that she would always be there for her, no matter what. It was a promise she never planned on breaking. “Yes, of course I’m going.”

  A smile returned to CeCe’s lips. “Okay, then I’ll meet you at the school at seven. I can’t wait to see our baby’s artwork on display. I know it’s the best in the class.”

  Davia laughed. CeCe’s kitchen wall was plastered with the colorful “artwork” a proud Gabby had bestowed on her beloved Aunt C. CeCe had even had some of the art framed and hailed the drawings and paintings as the work of a creative genius. She was convinced that Gabby was an undiscovered prodigy and had actively sought an art critic to evaluate the work until Reba, Davia’s housekeeper and Gabby’s nanny, intervened. She had informed the fanatical godmother that the “artwork” looked suspiciously like the finger paintings of a normal four-year-old to her. Heatedly disagreeing with that assessment, CeCe didn’t speak to Reba for a week.

  “I’m sure she did well, CeCe. Gabby always does.”

  She shook her head in agreement. “Yep! That’s our girl. She’s going to be the best attorney in Atlanta.”

  “Oh yeah? Before or after she takes over Small Sensations?”

  Davia chuckled as CeCe stuck out her tongue. Their plans for Gabby’s future were an ongoing issue, with each declaring that she would do better in her particular field. The child was the center of Davia’s universe, and was loved with almost as much devotion by CeCe. Gabby Maxwell was strong-willed and independent, just like the two of them. Whatever the child chose to do with her life, it was certain that she would be successful.

  “After the open house you ought to take Gabby home and go out with me for a night on the town. I can see that you need to unwind.”

  “Girl! It is not the weekend. I can’t go out and about any day, any time, like you do.”

  “Weekend, weekday, it’s all the same. Letting your hair down for an hour or two won’t kill you.” Agitated, CeCe glared at her friend. “I swear, Davia, you’re worse than some old woman! When we went out last weekend you dragged me off the dance floor as if I were a misbehaving child. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, just because you’re a—”

  “Don’t go there, CeCe.” Davia’s eyes narrowed, but her friend ignored the threat.

  “You are so pathetic. I am sick and tired of trying to help you. I’ve never heard of anybody who never dates! Girl, you’ve got to go see a shrink or somebody about this aversion to men. You are young, beautiful, intelligent…” CeCe sputtered in frustration. “I…I…just don’t understand it! Men knock down my door trying to get me to talk to you on their behalf, and what do you do…”

  Davia sat back and watched CeCe, totally unaffected by her tirade. She was used to it. Between CeCe and Reba she was lectured at least a half dozen times a month on their two favorite topics—her overindulgence of Gabby and Davia’s constant rejection of men. The former had CeCe and Reba at odds in their opinions, but on the latter subject they both agreed. Davia’s self-imposed hermit status was detrimental to her healthy emotions. At least that was the way Reba explained it. Both women were determined to do something about it. Unfortunately, after years of trying neither of them had succeeded.

  “The only man you have anything to do with,” huffed CeCe, “is old Leroy, and you know good and well that everybody thinks that you’re his mistress instead of his boss. You need to deaden that rumor.”

  Davia’s eyes met CeCe’s and they broke into a fit of laughter. The speculation about Leroy and her was another private joke between them. The reality was so very different.

  Davia had met Leroy Platten eight years ago when her small business was on the verge of becoming a success. He was a friend of CeCe’s parents. When he and Davia met, he had recently been dismissed from the manufacturing company for which he had worked twenty-five years. In his early fifties, he suspected age discrimination and was seeking legal advice. Davia had been visiting CeCe that day, and she and Leroy struck up a conversation that eventually resulted in a business arrangement. That day became one of the luckiest ones in her life. Leroy’s misfortune became Davia’s salvation. Her skill in business and as a designer, coupled with his knowledge of manufacturing, had helped Small Sensations become what it was today.

  Leroy served as president of the company. Davia held the title of vice president. Few knew that she was the actual owner of the company because it was he who was thrust into the public eye as the chief executive. It was his life that was scrutinized and examined, which was exactly what Davia wanted. The fact that her life was a closed book was more than likely the reason for the rumors in the corporate community about their relationship. The truth was that Leroy and his wife, Ernestine, had been happily married for over forty years. Theirs was a solid marriage.

  Leroy and Ernestine Platten were childless. They were like family to Davia and surrogate grandparents to Gabby. Often the three adults would have a good laugh at the persistent rumor, just like she and CeCe.

  Recovering from their laughter, CeCe sobered. “No, really, Davia, you need to give yourself a break. You need to date. I was talking to Kevin Tyler the other day and…”

  “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a meeting.” Rising from her chair, Davia slipped into her shoes. She knew where this conversation was leading and she didn’t want to go there. Her friend had been trying to play matchmaker for years. Davia hadn’t been interested in her efforts in the past, and she still wasn’t interested.

  CeCe pressed on. “Okay. I’ll give up on Kevin, but I’m not giving up on you and you know it.”

  “How well I do.” Davia groaned. “When you’re on one of your crusades
, you’re relentless.”

  “You got that right.” CeCe sighed in frustration. “And you know that I am not one of those dizzy females who believes that a woman can’t be happy without a man. We’ve talked about this before, and I’ve said a thousand times that there’s nothing wrong with men and women enjoying each other’s company. If you would give men a chance you might learn to welcome their perspective, treasure their advice and respect their point of view. I want my best friend to enjoy that experience.”

  CeCe’s words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Davia continued to get ready for her next meeting. Under other circumstances and with someone else, CeCe would have been insulted, but this scene was all too familiar.

  In all the years that she had known her, Davia had never expressed much interest in men. CeCe was fairly certain that Davia’s aversion to the opposite sex was related to her past experience with her daughter’s father. As close as she was to Davia, she was still in the dark as to the name of the child’s father. CeCe had brought it up only once. Davia had made it clear that this was an area of her life that was a closed subject. CeCe had never brought it up again.

  Right now CeCe was getting the message that she was being dismissed. With a disgusted sigh she slipped from her chair and into her shoes.

  “You’re hopeless.” She rolled her eyes to emphasize her point.

  Davia scoffed at CeCe’s dramatics. “I thought you said you weren’t going to give up on me.”

  Her friend sniffed. “Later for you, Davia. I’m outta here.” She slammed the office door behind her to the sound of her friend’s laughter and a pleasant, “See you tonight.”

  Davia had gathered her things and was heading out of the office when the ring of the telephone stopped her. The call was on her private line, which meant that it was either from home or from Gabby’s school. She picked up on the second ring.

  “Davia Maxwell speaking.”