by Zuri Day
“No, Troy said I can drive one of their cars.”
“I’m glad you guys were able to get over your differences.”
“Me too.”
The ride from the airport to Troy and Gabriella’s estate in Pacific Palisades gave the couple a chance to chill, chat, and enjoy the scenery. They commented on the constant traffic, and how neither felt bad about trading boots, gloves, and a heavy coat for a lightweight jacket and sunglasses. Turning into the gated entrance elicited a low whistle from Alex.
“Wow. Gab is living even bigger than a rock star.”
“Celebrities like her have their own zone.”
“Man, I’ve seen some beautiful homes in my time guarding rich folk, but this beats them all!”
“It is pretty amazing.”
The car pulled to the massive double doors at the front of the house. Alex and Carol had barely gotten out when one of them opened and Gabriella came out. “Hey, guys! Happy holidays!”
“Hey, girl.” Carol turned and gave Gabriella a hug.
“Don’t worry about your bags,” Gabriella said as she turned to hug Alex. “They’ll be delivered to your guest suite.”
“This is gorgeous, Gab,” Alex said as he stepped through the doors to take in a tall, vaulted ceiling, double staircase, and floor-to-ceiling windows bringing the outdoors in.
“Thank you.”
“Where’s Troy?”
“Troy’s right here,” he said, coming around the corner with arms outstretched. “Welcome to the Morgan Manse.”
“No doubt.”
Carol looked around, took in the organized chaos of the housekeeping, catering, and decorating teams. “I thought you said this was going to be a small party, just family and a few friends.”
“It is. Promise.” Gabriella hooked her arm around her best friend. “Come on, let me show you the menu. I’m trying a new caterer, a chef named Tiffany from the upscale, award-winning Le Sol hotel. She comes highly recommended. You can help me with some last-minute planning on how the evening should flow.”
Troy and Alex watched as the women left the room. Troy motioned for Alex to follow him as they walked into a great room/den that looked out on the meticulously landscaped back garden. “You want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good.”
“It’s good to see you, man,” he said, sitting down on a custom-made, high-back leather chair that faced the view. “When I heard you’d gotten shot—” He shook his head. “Man, that was crazy.”
“Who are you telling?” Alex sat on the opposite chair.
“Do you know who did it?” Troy’s look was serious, probing, as he asked him.
Alex looked around to make sure they were alone. “Not his name, but . . . yes, I saw him.”
“What are you doing about it?”
“Working with the authorities.” He told Troy about the corruption within the Detroit police force and his brother’s help in finding the right cops to provide information. “They’ve got the sketch,” he finished. “Now all I can do is wait and see if they find the match who’s alive and breathing.”
“If you need any help . . .”
“I know you’ve got my back, man. I appreciate it.”
“I tell you what I appreciate . . . this fresh new blood in the NFL. Can you believe the matchup that might make it to the Super Bowl?”
And with that, the men’s conversation changed from one kind of havoc being wreaked to another.
“Okay, tell me everything.” Carol and Gabriella had just sat down in an upstairs parlor. Gabriella had shut the door.
Carol heaved a satiated sigh.
“That good, huh?” Gabriella said with a laugh.
“Even better. I didn’t know how much I’d missed sex until it came back into my life. Look what he got me for Christmas.” She dangled the wrist boasting the gold and diamond friendship charm.”
“That’s so sweet!”
“And he got me a crystal elephant, too!”
“Did he know how much you liked them?”
Carol nodded. “He’d overheard a conversation with Melanie. And remembered.”
The girls shared an exaggerated sigh, then laughed.
“I’m so happy for you. It would be wonderful if—”
“Don’t go there, Gab. I’m just trying to enjoy the moment, not seeing how his last name looks next to my first one.”
“Why not?”
“I already told you.”
“His job.”
“The travel. Alex loves being on the road. He can’t wait until the holidays are over so that he can go again.”
“Even with his injuries?”
Carol nodded. “It’s a pretty nasty flesh wound, but the bullet missed his major organs. They expect his total healing within a month.”
“Still, there’s nothing saying you two can’t make it work, even with distance between you.”
“I’m saying it. At twenty-six years old, I’ve never had a serious relationship. I’m ready, Gab. I want to fall in love and do all of those things that I see other couples doing: going to dinner, the movies, concerts, just chilling. I want to do that with someone regularly, not just those times in between tours.”
Gabriella’s brow creased as she pondered Carol’s words. “Well, for now, you’re glowing. Alex is bringing you the happiness you’ve longed for. And I am happy about that.”
A knock interrupted their conversation. “Mrs. Morgan,” the worker said once Gabriella had bid him enter. “You wanted us to let you know when the lights were in place.”
“Yes, I did. Come with me, Carol. We’ve strung lights so that tonight our backyard will look like a fairy land.”
Carol followed, and soon the two friends were deep in the last bits of party preparations. One was already living in a fairy tale, and one was beginning to wonder if for her they could really come true.
Chapter 10
“Five, four, three, two, one . . . Happy New Year!!!”
Alex pulled Carol in close and planted a big wet one on her in front of God and everybody. No matter, God was probably the only one watching them since everybody else was busy with their own Happy New Year wishes. The fireworks visible from their ocean-view perch were magnificent, rivaling the thousands of mini white lights that had been strung for the affair.
Carol leaned back into Alex’s warm embrace. “This is beautiful.”
“Yes,” Alex responded, nibbling her ear. “The fireworks look nice, too.”
Troy and Gabriella approached them. “Happy New Year!” Gabriella laughed as she reached for her bestie. “May whatever you wished during that heck of a kiss come true!”
Troy and Alex gave each other dap and a shoulder bump before their holiday exchange.
“We’re just making our rounds,” Troy explained. “But come and holler at us before you turn in.”
Carol and Alex hugged again as they watched the festivities around them. “Who’s that?” she asked, lifting her glass to an area where several people gathered. “That one girl looks familiar.”
“You don’t remember?” Carol shook her head. “That’s Shayna Washington. Troy’s sister-in-law. They were at the concert at the Staples Center. She’s married to his brother, Michael, who owns a sports agency.”
“Oh, right. I barely remember anything about that opening night. It was a whirlwind. What about the other couple?”
“That’s Troy’s other brother, Gregory, and the couple next to them is their mother and her new husband.”
“Right, I know that. Gabriella called me shortly before they got married on Thanksgiving Day. In fact, I believe their ceremony was here, in this backyard. ”
The couple continued to talk about other people they saw and knew both mutually and separately: Gabriella’s parents, Gary and Yvonne, her UCLA football star brother Garrett, his drop-dead gorgeous date and fellow college players, R&B star Darius Crenshaw, whom Alex had previously guarded, and his partner, Bo, Gabriella’s new personal trainer, Nigh
t Simmons and his wife, D’Andra, and dozens more, around fifty in total. They danced until Carol came out of her heels, ate scrumptious food until their stomachs hurt, and laughed until they cried. Finally, around two a.m., they found Troy and Gabriella and said good night.
“We’re all sleeping in tomorrow,” Gabriella informed them. “But the kitchen will open at nine for breakfast made to order.”
Carol and Alex retired to their guest suite, large enough to accommodate some people’s apartments. There was a large sitting area, a respectable walk-in closet, beautifully appointed en suite bath, and ocean-facing balcony. The couple undressed quickly and began making love. It was tender and wonderful, even better than the half a dozen times before.
Which is why Alex’s apology following their mutual releases had Carol totally confused.
“Sorry for what?”
“For not being able to love you properly. I want to hold you in my arms, feel your body next to mine from head to toe. I want to love you the right way, which is every which way but loose. I want to—”
“Shh.” Carol placed her finger on his lips. “You have nothing to apologize for; I’m totally satisfied. If you’re taking care of business like this, being injured and all, I can’t even imagine how it will be once you’re all better.”
Alex kissed her temple. “You’re a sweetheart. Come here.”
“We have to be careful. I don’t want to bump up against you in my sleep.”
“I don’t even care. Falling asleep with you in my arms is worth the pain.”
Two days later, on the second of January, Alex and Carol arrived back in the Motor City to below-freezing temperatures and a fresh batch of snow.
“Still glad you moved back to your hometown?” Alex teased, as they left the shuttle and got into her car.
“Not right now,” Carol admitted. She started the car she’d left in airport parking and continued talking while it warmed up. “It’s days like this when I envy Gabriella’s sunny Cali lifestyle, when I entertain the idea that fighting that traffic may be worth it after all.”
“It wasn’t bad out there where they live.”
“You’re right. As long as I was somewhere with everything I needed close by, it could be doable.”
“So you’d think about moving there?”
“I never say never, but right now I’m happy with life in Detroit. I’m close to my family, have reconnected with friends, and love the work I’m doing with Jeremy.”
“Your business partner, right?”
Carol nodded.
“Tell me more about that.”
“Jeremy’s construction company is in partnership with the city and a couple banks, housing associations, and organizations to rebuild neighborhoods. Right now we’re concentrating on the Brightmoor area, but have plans to expand the rehabilitation throughout the city. Potential homeowners apply with the cooperating banks to purchase the homes we’ve renovated. Eleven have been built so far and most are occupied. The highlight of all this will be a first-class community center.”
“I like that about you, your compassion and generosity, looking out for someone besides yourself.”
“The houses weren’t given away for free, Alex.”
“Yes, but I bet they got a good interest rate at the bank on what are probably thirty-year loans.”
“True. The mortgages are set up for low- to middle-income families who don’t have a large down payment. I helped two of the families move in, and to see the looks on the faces of parents experiencing brand new instead of secondhand and children having their own bedrooms for the first time and their own front yards . . . it’s priceless.”
“Yeah . . . I can imagine. The friend I’m staying with volunteers for a bunch of stuff. It’s hard to do with me on the road, but he makes me think more about giving back.”
“It’s a good feeling and while not the same as being hands-on, donations always help.”
“Maybe you can direct me to some charities that you know about.”
“I’ll be glad to, starting with the community center. The kids often have nothing to do in these neighborhoods. My goal as activities director is to change that. You’d be giving to a very worthy cause.”
“Just like a woman; always ready to take a brother’s cash. Just kidding, I’m just kidding,” he added with a chuckle, taking a well-placed punch to his shoulder.” Alex’s cell phone rang. “Hello?” He listened. “Yes, I can do that.” He looked at Carol. “Sure, I’ll come right now.”
“Who was that?” she asked when he hung up the phone.
“The detective working my case.”
“What does he want?”
“Wants me to come down to the station; says that a man who resembles my sketch got arrested last night.”
“They want you to identify him?”
Alex looked over, hearing the fear in Carol’s voice. “Yes, but don’t worry. It’ll either be through a one-way mirror or by showing me mug shots. He won’t see me.” A pause and then, “But it makes me feel good to know that you care.”
Carol dropped Alex off at his house and headed to hers. Since Christmas, they’d rarely been separated. She missed him before her car left the block. If this was how she felt when he’d been gone only five minutes, she couldn’t imagine life with him gone on the road . . . or for good.
“Be safe, baby,” she whispered, pulling into her drive.
Across town, heading to the police station, a concerned Alex Worthington was thinking the very same thing.
Chapter 11
He’d called Neil before leaving his house, and per his brother’s instructions Alex took a circuitous route to the police station, even circling a couple times before being let into their private lot. Very few people in Detroit knew him, and Alex planned for even fewer to know about this visit. Wearing a black sweatshirt and windbreaker along with blue jeans, a black knit cap, and wraparound sunglasses, he was met at the back door to the station by the detective and let inside.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” the detective said as they walked down a short hallway.
Alex blew into his hands to warm them. “The timing was perfect; I just returned from a trip to LA.”
The detective’s look was skeptical as he remarked, “You left this place for California . . . and came back?”
Alex laughed. “I know, right?”
They entered a small room where the officer whom Alex’s brother, Neil, knew personally sat. Beyond him was a rectangular window that looked out into another small, gray-colored room. After exchanging brief greetings and taking a seat in an aluminum folding chair, Alex turned to the detective. “What was the suspect brought in for?”
“Parole violation; illegal possession of a firearm. The gun was sent to ballistics. They’re matching it against the shell casings that were found at the club.”
Six similar-looking African-American men filed into the room beyond them. Alex tensed and took a deep breath.
“They can’t see you,” the detective assured him. “We’ve made every effort to keep your identity secret because . . .” A look passed between the officer and the detective. “Well, just because.”
Alex nodded, not needing the detective to finish his sentence. Ten to one, the men lined up were into gang activity, drug activity, or both. Being revealed as a snitch could definitely prove hazardous to his health. He sat back in his seat as they stood against the wall. One scan and the face of the man whom he’d observed at Marlon’s private party, the same one who’d aimed his gun precariously close to where Carol had been seated, came into view.
“The second dude,” Alex said with assurance.
The officer looked surprised at Alex’s quick assessment. “From the left or right?”
“Second from the right.”
“Are you sure?” the detective asked.
“Positive.”
The detective gave a curt nod. “All right then.” He stood.
Alex followed suit. “Is that it?”
> “Yes.”
“What happens now?”
“We hold him until word comes back from ballistics on the bullet match. We’re pretty sure we’ve got the right man but want our case to be airtight. The last two times he’s gone to trial, it’s gone his way.”
“Last two times? How many times has he been to court?”
“Too many. He’s been in the system since he was fifteen years old.”
“How old is he now?”
“Twenty-three.”
Alex’s shoulders slumped. On one hand, if this was the man who shot him, he deserved to do time. But on the other hand, this was yet another young African-American male who’d probably grown up without a father, without the proper guidance to make right choices. He’d expected to feel anger in the face of this would-be killer. He felt sympathy instead.
“Thanks, man,” he said to the detective, shaking his hand as they headed to the door.
“I know that was difficult,” the detective responded. “I wish things were different. But believe me, if our hunches turn out to be correct, prison is the best place for that young man to be.”
Alex left the police station parking lot feeling way worse than when he arrived. Less than twenty-four hours ago he was enjoying champagne kisses and caviar dreams, living life like it was golden among people who did the same. There were people who lived like his friend and the R&B and pop star, Gabriella, and then there were men like the twenty-three-year-old for whom life was an expendable commodity that for the promise of a couple dollars could be thrown away. He reached for his phone and placed the call on speaker. “Neil, it’s me.”
“I was just getting ready to call. I hear they caught the boy who shot you.”
“Boy is right, even though he’s technically a man at twenty-three years old.” Alex stopped for a red light. “News travels fast. I just left the station.”
“I’d asked my contact to keep me apprised of the situation. A bad seed, that brother they apprehended. He’s facing his third strike.”
