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Sweet Silver Bells

Page 8

by Rochelle Alers


  Joseph released her hand. “Sex?”

  In spite of herself, Crystal burst out laughing. “Is that all you men think about?”

  His gaze traveled over her face, then moved slowly to her chest before reversing direction. “It’s not all I think about, but it is necessary if you want a satisfying physical relationship.”

  Resting an elbow on the countertop, she cradled her chin on the heel of her hand. “I prefer a healthy physical relationship to a satisfying one. Don’t forget there are methods men and women can use to bring themselves to climax or ejaculate.”

  Choking sounds came from Joseph as he reached for his glass of sangria and took a deep swallow.

  “Did I embarrass you?” Crystal laughed. “Come, now, Joseph. We’re both adults, so the subject of masturbation shouldn’t be off the table.” Growing up around three male cousins and overhearing them talk about sex helped her to have a healthy attitude about what went on between men and woman in the bedroom.

  Joseph narrowed his eyes. “I’m not embarrassed,” he said defensively. “I just didn’t expect us to talk about masturbation.”

  “You were the one who mentioned sex.”

  “You’re...” His words trailed off when the phone rang. “Excuse me, Crystal, but I have to answer that.” It wasn’t often someone called him on the hotel’s line. Striding across the kitchen, he picked up the receiver to the wall phone. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Joey. I tried calling your cell, but it went to voice mail.”

  Joseph was too annoyed with his sister to tell her he left his cell phone in the bedroom. She had promised him she would call when she got to Durham. “Don’t tell me you’re just getting in, because I left you a voice mail this morning.”

  “I got in last night but couldn’t call you because one of my sorority sisters found out that her boyfriend got another girl pregnant and we were up all night talking her off the ledge. She’s threatening to buy a gun to shoot him and the girl.”

  “Tell her to save her money and the bullets because neither of them is worth her spending the rest of her life in prison.”

  “That’s what we’ve been saying. Hopefully it will sink in. By the way, you don’t have to send me any money. I spoke to Daddy a few minutes ago and told him everything.”

  He smiled. Apparently Bianca had decided to take a stand with their father. “How did it go?”

  “He wasn’t too happy, but said he understood where I was coming from. He must be mellowing out in his old age.”

  “Dad’s only sixty-two, so he’s not that old.” Joseph half listened to his sister talk nonstop about the plans she’d made when she took the year off as he stared at Crystal, watching him. There was no doubt he’d misjudged her. Under her reserved exterior was a woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. And she was right when she accused him of bringing up the topic of sex.

  “Joey, are you still there?”

  “Yeah, Bibi. I’m here.”

  “You sound distracted. Do you have company?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Bianca admonished. “I’ll text you with an update on the drama that’s going on here.”

  “Tell your soror that I’m not licensed to practice law in North Carolina, so she shouldn’t do anything crazy. Remind her if she’s charged with murder one, that carries a life sentence or the death penalty.”

  “I’ll let her know. Bye, Joey. I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Bibi.”

  Joseph ended the call, returning to the cooking island. “That was my sister. I told her when she came to see me yesterday to call when she got back to school, but she had other pressing issues than phoning her brother.”

  Grimacing, Crystal bit down on her lower lip until she felt a pulse. “That was your sister I saw you with in the lobby yesterday?”

  “Yes. When I introduce Bianca as my sister, folks always ask if she’s adopted. My brothers and I tease her saying we found her on the back porch and decided to take her in.”

  “I guess you and your brothers look alike.”

  “We look like most Cole dudes, while Bianca resembles the Reyes side of the family. At almost twenty, she’s the mirror image of our Puerto Rican grandmother at the same age.” Joseph noted the time on the microwave. It was almost eight o’clock. He and Crystal had spent the past hour talking. Rounding the island, he eased her off the stool. “It’s time I feed you or you’ll think I’m a terrible host.”

  Chapter 6

  Dinner concluded, Crystal sat across the table from Joseph wondering if she’d been involved with him at twenty-three how different her life would be now. She knew he never would’ve agreed to live together without marriage. And if they’d married they would have at least one child.

  Unlike his ex, she wouldn’t complain about not seeing her husband enough. Growing up an only child, she learned early on to entertain herself. Whenever she wasn’t with her cousins, she escaped between the pages of a book. In middle school she began making up stories, filling volumes of cloth-covered journals.

  Once she entered adolescence, subscribing to magazines had become her drug of choice. She filled out countless order cards and when the first issue arrived along with the bill, Crystal gave it to her father, who promptly wrote a check.

  Stacks of magazines devoted to fashion, travel, cooking and design and architecture eventually took over all the available closet space in her bedroom. Then her mother issued an ultimatum: get rid of all but her favorites. She bundled all except the issues devoted to décor and design. Thus began her love affair with interior decorating.

  “What made you decide to go into interior decorating?”

  Joseph’s voice broke into her musings. It was as if he’d read her mind. “I love beautiful things,” she said, smiling. “I suppose it comes naturally because my mother is an art dealer.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Joseph angled his head. “A lot of people like beautiful things, yet they don’t become decorators.”

  “For me it is taking an empty space and filling it up with pieces that not only complement one another but also reflect the owner’s personality.”

  “I’m planning to build a house.”

  Crystal sat up straight. She didn’t have to be clairvoyant to know Joseph was going to ask her about decorating ideas. “What do you want to know?”

  “Will you consider decorating it once it’s completed?”

  She schooled her expression so as not to reveal her excitement. Joseph asking her to decorate his home, if she accepted the commission, would be her first nonreferral. “If you hadn’t met me, who would you have chosen?”

  “My aunt, who just happens to be a retired decorator, gave me a list of recommendations. She stopped working for the family a couple of years ago because she’s spending more time with her great-grandchildren.”

  “Who did she recommend?” A cold shiver snaked its way up Crystal’s spine when Joseph mentioned the architectural and design firm in Fort Lauderdale where she’d been sexually harassed.

  Joseph’s expression mirrored confusion. “What’s the matter, Crystal?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You look as if you just saw a ghost when I mentioned Bramwell and Duncan Architectural and Design.”

  She lowered her eyes, staring at the tablecloth. “I used to work for them before I went into business for myself.”

  Joseph leaned over the table. “Why did you leave?”

  “I was passed over for promotion one too many times.”

  “What else, Crystal?”

  She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “What makes you think there’s something else?”

  “I may be a few things, but a fool is not one of them. I saw something in your eyes that says there’s bad bloo
d between you and your old employer.”

  Crystal had underestimated Joseph. It was apparent he was quite perceptive. “One of the partners sexually harassed me, and rather than sue, I resigned.”

  “You never told anyone?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “You leave so he can sexually harass another woman?”

  Joseph’s accusatory tone grated on her nerves. “You have no right to be judgmental when you don’t know all of the facts. I wasn’t the first woman to be targeted, and there’s no doubt I won’t be the last. An assistant architect told me in confidence that another woman had threatened to sue, but she was paid well for her silence. Bramwell and Duncan have deep pockets and enough clout to keep any case tied up in the court for years. And because I wasn’t willing to take a bribe, I left. Think about it, Joseph. How many companies would hire someone with a history of suing her employer?”

  Joseph ran a hand over his face. “I suppose you did the right thing when you resigned.”

  “Even if I didn’t do the right thing, I know I made the right decision to go into business for myself.”

  “Lucky me,” he drawled. If Crystal was good enough to decorate hotels for the preeminent Charleston hotelier, then she had to be very good at what she did. “Now, Miss Businesswoman, will you accept the commission to decorate my house once it’s completed?”

  “What’s the projection date for completion?”

  “It probably won’t be until sometime next year.”

  Crystal traced the design on the handle of the dinner fork with her forefinger. She did not want to commit to decorating a home that was still in the planning stages. “We’ll talk once you get closer to completion. No more, please,” she said, placing her hand over her wineglass when Joseph attempted to refill it. Smiling, she said teasingly, “If I drink any more I’ll have a problem making it down the hall.”

  Light from the overhead chandelier bathed Joseph in gold as he ran a forefinger around the rim of his wineglass. “You don’t have to go home. I do have an extra bedroom.”

  Her gaze grazed his mouth. “I was only teasing about not making it back to my apartment. What I’m not is much of a drinker.”

  His eyes opened wider. “And I’m serious about you staying over. If or when you can’t make it back to your place, I’ll either carry you or put you up here.”

  A shiver of awareness snaked its way up Crystal’s back when she realized she was about to embark on something for which she wasn’t quite ready. Joseph embodied the essence of the perfect bachelor—if there was such a thing. He was tall, dark, handsome, intelligent, elegant and wealthy. “Is that something you do with women who’ve had too much to drink? Put them up at your place?”

  Joseph dabbed the corners of his mouth with the linen napkin. “No. I can’t afford to have an intoxicated woman in my home and later on have her accuse me of taking advantage of her. When I suspect she’s had too much to drink I usually call a car service to take her home. The driver knows not to leave them until they’re safely behind a closed and locked door.”

  She gave him a bright smile. “I don’t think you’ll ever have to deal with that problem with me, because two drinks is usually my limit.”

  He gestured to her glass. “You only drank half your wine.”

  Crystal touched her napkin to her lips. “That’s because I had the sangria.”

  His expression didn’t change. “Are you ready for dessert?”

  She looked at Joseph as if he’d suddenly taken leave of his senses. “I’m so full I’m going to have to pass on the dessert.”

  Rising, Joseph came around the table and pulled back Crystal’s chair. He hovered over her head longer than necessary, her warmth and scent wafting to his nostrils. “I’ll wrap it up so you can take it with you.”

  Crystal stood, resting her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not leaving yet. I’m going to stay and help you clean up.”

  He shook his head. “No, you’re not. Someone from housekeeping will take care of everything.” A knowing smile played at the corners of Crystal’s mouth, bringing his gaze to focus there. “What’s so funny?”

  She averted her head to conceal her smirk. Joseph had denied having someone pick up after him. “Nothing. No!” she screamed. He’d picked her up, holding her above his head as if she weighed no more than a child. “Put me down, Joseph!”

  “Apologize.”

  Crystal closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t drop her. “For what?”

  “For what you were thinking.”

  “What was I thinking!”

  “You know right well what you were thinking.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.” She shook uncontrollably when he finally lowered her until her feet touched the floor.

  Joseph felt her trembling. Pulling her against his chest, he pressed his mouth to her forehead. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have dropped you.”

  Crystal curved her arms under his shoulders, holding tightly as if he were her lifeline. Temporarily traumatized, she couldn’t react to the softly whispered endearment. “I’m afraid of heights,” she admitted tearfully.

  Cradling the back of her head, Joseph closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss to her ear, and then trailed kisses along the column of her neck. “Will you forgive me?”

  Crystal sniffled. “I’ll think about it.”

  Joseph cradled her face in his hands. His heart turned over when he saw the unshed tears in her eyes. He touched his mouth to hers, making certain not to increase the pressure to where she’d pull away. “I’m very, very sorry,” he whispered over and over, placing light kisses on her parted lips.

  The soft caress of his mouth reminded Crystal of the gossamer wings of a butterfly brushing her face when she’d lain on the grass long ago, staring up at the clouds in the sky. At first it’d startled her, but it flew back and landed on her forehead; she lay completely still so it wouldn’t fly away again. Those were the happiest days in her young life—before her parents’ divorce.

  It had been a long time, much too long since a man had held and kissed her. Before she’d slept with Brian, there had been one man—a student at Howard University—and no one after Brian. She dated a few men but refused to sleep with them because she’d convinced herself she didn’t have time for romance in her life when she had to concentrate on her career.

  Spending the past few hours with Joseph had proven her wrong. She wanted romance, passion and to experience again why she’d been born female. Lowering her arms, she pushed against his chest. “I think I’d better go now.”

  Reluctantly, Joseph released her. “Don’t you want to wait for your dessert?”

  A rush of heat suffused her face as she grew conscious of his scrutiny. “Will it keep?”

  “Yes.”

  Crystal forced a smile. “Bring it to my place Monday. If you don’t have anything planned for Monday evening, then I’d like to have you over for happy hour.”

  His eyes caressed her face. “What time does happy hour begin?”

  “Five.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you for a wonderful evening and an incredible dinner.”

  Joseph stared at her, committing everything about her face to memory. Resting a hand at the small of her back, he led her out of the dining room. “I’ll walk you back to your place.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m less than two hundred feet from you.”

  He took her hand. “Didn’t I tell you I always make certain my date gets back home safely? And because I don’t have to call a driver, I’m going to see you to your door.”

  Crystal realized it was futile to argue with Joseph. “I didn’t know I was your date.”

  “You don’t get out
much, do you?”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “Why would you say that?”

  “When a man invites you to share dinner with him, it’s a date.”

  “What if I invite you to dinner? Is it still a date?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Crystal stared at the toes of her shoes for several seconds. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”

  Joseph left his door unlocked as he walked with Crystal to her apartment. He waited while she took the card key from the pocket of her slacks and slipped it into the slot. The light glowed green. Reaching over her head, he held the door open for her. “I’ll wait until you close and lock the door.”

  Crystal didn’t understand Joseph’s rationale for escorting her to her apartment. The penthouse floor was the most secure one in the hotel; they were the only guests occupying the apartments, and only employees assigned to the floor were allowed access. “I think you’re being ridiculous.”

  “Please indulge me.”

  “Good night. And thank you again for a wonderful night.”

  Joseph winked at her. “You’re welcome, beautiful.”

  She closed and locked the door; pressing her back against the solid surface, she slid down to the floor, her heart hammering against her ribs. I like him. I really like him! She’d come to Charleston to decorate hotels, not become involved with a man who’d claimed confidence as his birthright.

  “If you’re going to spend two months working in Charleston, you should have some fun, too.” Her mother’s words came rushing back in vivid clarity. “Well, Mother,” she whispered, “I’m about to have some fun.”

  * * *

  Joseph picked up the iPhone, answering before it rang a third time. He knew it was Diego. “Hola, primo. Cómo estás?”

  “That’s what I should be asking you, primo. I left a couple of voice mails for you to call me back.”

  Joseph had been watching a comedy on television

 

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