Cy shifted in his seat and looked at Jack. “How’s that?”
“If it weren’t for what happened between you and Millicent, I may have never met her.”
Cy turned back to face the road. “Is that so.” He didn’t know what or how much of their history Millicent had shared, and decided to tread lightly.
Jack laughed. “Oh, you can relax, man. She told me everything. After the infamous run-in between the four of us in Mexico, she and I had a good ol’ heart-to-heart. She didn’t want anything to do with church, much less a pastor,” he continued. “But I’m pretty irresistible when I put my mind to it, and pretty determined when I see something I want. I was willing to wait a lifetime for that woman.”
“It seems fortunate for both of you that you didn’t have to. I’ve never seen Millicent happier.” Suddenly, a thought came to Cy. “I guess you wouldn’t be doing business with me if you had any reservations … about Millicent and my shared past and her old feelings about me.”
“If I thought there was any chance that Millicent was still in love with you, we wouldn’t be doing business. And if I didn’t want to do business with you, you wouldn’t be in my car.”
They rode along in silence for a while before Jack spoke again. “The fact is, Millicent has forgiven herself for what happened, but I think she still feels bad about it, wishes there was some way she could make up for the trouble she caused you and your wife. Plus, she respects you as a person and as a businessman, and after doing my homework, I know that her respect is well warranted. So from a strictly business point of view, I’d be crazy not to want to partner up with someone of your caliber, and character. On a personal note, I think it would make my wife happy to know she was able to help you and your wife. She knows how scarce the real estate is in this area, and I know how hard it is to find good men with whom to do business. I think our potential partnership is a win-win for everyone. What about Hope? Is she okay with us working together?”
“Yes, she’s given the partnership her blessing.” Even as he said this, Cy remembered her apprehensive look when he mentioned coming to San Diego. If what he had in mind was going to work, he had to be absolutely certain Hope’s resentment toward Millicent was over.
Cy and Jack’s conversation returned to real estate and ministry. A few miles later, after traveling along the pristine, unobstructed ocean view, Jack turned into a partially obscured driveway. He punched in a code, and the heavy, steel gate slowly swung open.
The pathway was lined with lush greenery, creating a canopy over the cobble-covered roadway. The atmosphere was at once tranquil and serene, giving one the feeling of being enfolded in beauty.
“These trees are almost a hundred years old,” Jack explained. “My great-grandfather planted them not long after he arrived in California from England and fell in love with the place.”
“This is your family’s property?”
Jack nodded.
“And you’re actually going to sell it?”
“Just a couple dozen acres,” Jack answered. “We’ll still have over a hundred more to pass down to our children. The Word admonishes us to be charitable with our bounty. You’re a good brother in the Lord, and it’s a pleasure to share some of my blessings with you.”
“Charitable, huh? So that means I’ll get this land at well below market value.”
Jack smiled. “The Word also says, ‘Wisdom is a shelter as money is a shelter, but the advantage of knowledge is this: that wisdom preserves the life of its possessor.’”
Cy laughed. “So you intend to share possessions, but keep possessing—is that it?”
Jack nodded. “You got it.”
Later that evening, Jack sighed contentedly as he wrapped his arms around Millicent. They had made love—slowly, sweetly—and were now resting in the afterglow.
After a few moments of companionable silence, Jack spoke. “That Cy Taylor is quite the businessman.”
“Umm,” Millicent replied. “I take it he liked the plot of land you showed him?”
“Surely you jest.”
“Of course I do. Anyone would be crazy not to purchase any part of this property they could get their hands on.” Millicent leaned over and kissed Jack’s cheek. “Thank you, honey.”
“For what?”
“For everything. I know you’re doing this largely for me. To help me right a wrong. I appreciate it … and you.”
“I’d sell my entire inheritance to make you happy. I just hope … well, never mind.”
“No, darling, what were you going to say?”
“I just hope his wife is really okay with the idea.”
“Of his buying property? Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Cy is buying this land for personal reasons. He thinks it’s a perfect place to build his and Hope’s dream home.”
“Oh, Lord,” Millicent said, immediately wondering if Hope was aware of Cy’s plans, and what she’d have to say about the four of them becoming neighbors.
23
Dreams
“Baby, you’re late,” Hope said, greeting Cy with a kiss as he entered their home. “How are you feeling? I bet you’re starved.”
Cy took a moment to enjoy Hope’s soft curves. “I’m better now,” he answered. “Plus, I had a big lunch.”
“Ooh, don’t tell me you ate at Roppongi’s.” Hope’s mouth watered at the thought of delicacies from their favorite sushi bar.
Cy walked around her and headed for the bedroom. “No, I ate at Jack’s. They’ve got a beautiful home, complete with a top-of-the-line, forty-ninefoot sailboat docked about fifty feet from their front door.”
Hope was glad Cy’s back was to her. That way he couldn’t have seen her initial pissed-off reaction. When she spoke, her voice was light, airy.
“Oh, you had lunch with the Kirtzes?”
“Yes. They’ve extended an open dinner invite to the two of us, whenever we can.” Cy walked into their dressing room.
Hope followed, unable to staunch her curiosity. “How was Millicent?”
Cy turned and peered at his wife. Satisfied that this was simply a routine question and not the beginning of an interrogation, he answered easily. “She’s great—obviously in love with her husband and child.”
Hope ignored the pang that comment caused and continued. “You saw their son too?”
“Jackson,” Cy said, smiling as he undressed. “Rambunctious little kid. His skin is darkly tanned, but his eyes are blue. I think he’s going to be a heartbreaker. Come on, let’s see what’s behind that tantalizing aroma that has me salivating in here … besides you.”
Hope followed Cy while trying to reconcile the way she should feel—happy and content—with the way she actually felt—anxious and angry. Why couldn’t she get over this envy where Millicent being a mother was concerned? And why couldn’t she get pregnant?
Theirs was a companionable silence as they fixed their plates for a casual dinner on the balcony. As they walked through the sliding glass doors, Cy spoke his mind.
“I’m so glad we’re back on track, baby, and that you no longer harbor ill feelings where Millicent is concerned. I think we’re going to love living in that area; I’m even going to move our main office there and keep only a branch office here in LA.”
Hope nodded and smiled. It was the best she could do. She’d been ecstatic when they vacationed in La Jolla, had said it was a slice of paradise and she wanted to live there. But that was before she knew Millicent lived there. This is a test, she thought. A test of my faith and my true forgiveness. San Diego County wasn’t as big as LA, she reasoned. But it was fairly large. Chances were, aside from an occasional business dinner, she’d never even run into Millicent.
“I can’t wait to see the property, baby,” Hope said sincerely.
“And I can’t wait to show it to you.”
Cy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. He’d initially had reservations, but tonight’s conversation allayed his doubts. Now he could confidently move forward with
his plans—to build his and Hope’s oceanfront dream on the ten acres he’d already agreed to purchase from Jack Kirtz.
24
Grown-Folks Business
“Darius! Wait up!” Melody scampered across the church parking lot, careful to swing her tender hips and bob her breasts as she ran. She feigned a trip and thrust herself in his arms.
“Whoa, slow down now, you’re going to run over me!”
“I thought I was going to miss you,” Melody gasped. “I sent you an e-mail on MySpace. Did you get it?”
“Baby girl, I don’t check those messages. An assistant at the label does that.”
“Oh,” Melody said in a dejected tone. “We have almost two thousand fans for you. And I have all these ideas about T-shirts and contests and stuff to, you know, keep people all hyped about you. I was hoping you’d e-mail me so I could tell you.”
“Well, you’re telling me now. And that’s real sweet, Melody. But are you sure you have time for all this, with school and all? What are you, a junior?”
The last thing Melody wanted to be reminded of was that she was in high school. “I’m graduating early,” she said. “Besides, I’ve got my eyes on bigger, better things. I got goals and stuff.”
“What higher goal can you have besides getting your education?”
You! “I’m going to do that too. I’m going to major in business so I can do what Bo does.”
Baby, you’ll never be able to do what Bo does. “This fan club should give you some good experience then.”
“So can I, like, you know, hang out with you guys … you and Bo? Maybe he can show me the ropes, give me some pointers to help me out. He must be good at what he does. Look at you!”
“I don’t know if that will be possible,” Darius began but reconsidered when he took in Melody’s crestfallen face. “What’s your cell number?” He took out his BlackBerry.
Melody’s eyes lit up as he punched in her numbers and her phone suddenly rang. “Hello?” she answered shyly.
“Now you have my number,” Darius spoke into the phone, playing along with an obviously smitten fan. “If I start getting calls from high school females, I’ll know where they got my number. My number will get changed, and you’ll get booted out of the fan club you started.” He laughed to take the sting out of his warning.
“I won’t tell anybody,” Melody promised. “I’ll even save it under a code.” She punched her phone’s keypad. “One more thing. Can I bring a couple friends with me to your party?”
“On Thanksgiving weekend?”
“Or just me and Natasha is cool!”
“Oh, you can’t come to that, baby girl. Grown-folks business will be happening, and you’re underage.”
“I’m almost seventeen!” She’d actually just turned sixteen, but who was counting?
“Grown is eighteen.” Darius began walking to his Navigator; Melody was hot on his trail. He popped his lock and stepped into the vehicle. “I’ll have a group of you girls over some other time.”
Melody knocked on his window, determined to get her way.
Darius frowned slightly and then slid his window down. “You know, Melody. There’s a fine line between being ambitious and obnoxious. If you want to make it in the game the way you say you do … you’ll do well to learn the difference.”
Melody smiled and waved as Darius exited the parking lot. She stared at his Navigator until it disappeared around a corner. Not at all dissuaded by his mild rebuke, she rechecked the code name she had assigned to his number. She concluded it was perfect and mouthed it again as she stared at the screen. The code was one simple word: mine.
25
Just Maybe
Darius clenched his teeth as he navigated traffic, trying to hold on to his temper as Bo rattled away on the phone. This was what he both loved and detested about his partner: his obsession with people he thought wanted to come between them.
“You haven’t mentioned him in weeks. I thought you’d come to your senses.” Darius paused, and when Bo said nothing, continued. “Randall is purposely pushing your buttons. Why do you let him get under your skin?”
“Because he’s trying to get under yours, that’s why!” Bo hissed. “Why don’t you fire him and hire Evan?” Evan was safe—married with kids.
“Because Evan is Shabach’s guitarist, and I’m not stealing personnel. I’m trying to get along, remember?”
“And Randall is trying to get you. I’ll see you later.” Click.
Darius continued to Stacy’s house, totally frustrated. Being under the microscope with the record company and the church community was enough pressure. He didn’t need Bo’s subtle nagging, his doubts about their union. Especially now when he did find Randall attractive and his body was once again responding to Stacy Gray.
Minutes later, Darius pulled his sleeping son from the car seat and headed up the walk to Stacy’s home. The perky smile and twinkling eyes that greeted him immediately warmed his heart and eased his troubled conscience. “Hello, Stacy.”
“Hey, Darius.” Stacy eyed her sleeping son and pointed to the stairway. “Take him upstairs and put him down. If I’m lucky, he’ll sleep another hour or so until I finish dinner and can clean up. You hungry?”
Darius hadn’t realized he was until now. “Something smells good,” he replied over his shoulder.
Stacy smiled. She’d been thinking about Darius all week, ever since she’d seen him at church. They’d talked several times over the phone, about their son mostly. But Stacy found reasons to call him, and he always made himself available. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
She hadn’t told anyone about her plan to get back with the father of her child. She didn’t want to entertain the naysayers—not until she made progress. Hopefully this dinner would be a start. Baked barbecue chicken was Darius’s favorite meal. If I’m lucky, she thought, his sauce-soaked fingers won’t be the only thing he licks tonight. As he came down, she met him at the bottom of the stairs with a glass of wine. “You look frazzled.”
Darius took the wine. “A little bit.” He took one sip and then another. “This is good, thank you. Is that barbecue chicken I smell?”
“It sure is.”
Darius smiled. “Woman, you know the way to get to a man’s heart.”
I hope so, Stacy thought. “It was the only thing thawed,” she said.
They ate quickly and mostly in silence, except for casual conversation about KCCC, their son, and the possibility of dissolving their court case.
“You know I only did that because you had me so frustrated. I love that boy like I love my life and know what it’s like not to have a father. I refuse to do that to him.”
“I know,” Stacy said softly.
“So do you think we can put the court case and the drama behind us?”
Can you put Bo behind you? No, Bo would probably like that. Out of your life? “We’ll see.”
That was as close to a yes as she’d come, and Darius decided he’d pushed enough, for now. “I can’t believe how he gets bigger every time I see him. And he’s already talking up a storm! I think he’s going to be a singer like his dad. You’re an excellent mother, Stacy.”
“I try,” Stacy said, warming all over at the compliment. “And being around other kids has been good for him too. I started taking him over to a friend of mine’s day care center just so he could hang out with other children.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working. And speaking of work,” Darius looked at his watch, “I probably should be going. Bo is probably pacing the floor wondering where I am already.”
Stacy hid her disappointment. “I made dessert.”
“Some other time,” Darius said. He rose from the table. “Dinner was great, Stacy. Thanks.”
Stacy walked with him from the dining room through the living room, wondering how she could prolong the stay without seeming desperate. They were at the front door before she’d come up with any bright ideas.
�
�Uh, you know about the party we’re having Saturday,” Darius said. “After Thanksgiving?”
“I heard about it.”
“Well, you’re welcome to come if you’d like. And of course,” Darius hesitated, “you can bring a date.”
“I don’t know, Darius. Bo and I …”
“Hey, I know y’all aren’t each other’s favorite people. But you guys got along for a hot minute. When you were pregnant you were thicker than thieves and regular partners in crime when you united against Shabach. I’m just extending the invite—a little reprieve for the holidays, that’s all.”
“I’ll think about it.”
There was an awkward moment as they looked at each other. Darius opened the door.
“Darius,” Stacy began.
“What?”
“I have something for you.” Stacy stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around him. Soon their bodies meshed and tongues swirled. Her nipples hardened, and she could feel something pressing against her stomach.
“Stacy, I can’t,” Darius said, his breathing labored.
“But you want to.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I hurt already.”
Darius stared deeply into Stacy’s eyes, then turned and left without another word.
Stacy closed the door and rested her head against the cool wood. A myriad of emotions flowed through her; desire simmered, aroused and unanswered beneath her clothes. Darius hadn’t totally embraced her, but he hadn’t pushed her away.
26
True Ecstasy
Darius wasn’t the only one exasperated that week. So was Hope. She paced the length of her bedroom as she reasoned with Frieda. “This guy at church likes you, girl. He specifically asked where you were and if maybe the four of us could go out tonight.”
“I already told you. He’s too goody-goody for me,” Frieda countered. “I’m a freak.”
“Goody-goody? What’s wrong with that? And how would you know? You won’t even take the man’s number.
“He’s a good catch, Frieda. A solid, educated professional, not to mention very attractive. Who is causing you even to think twice about this? Giorgio—whose new mistress is the runway—or Shabach—who’s known all over America as a big church ho?”
Heaven Right Here Page 9
