Winner Takes All

by Sandra Kitt

  “You mean did I go alone? No. And believe me, there wasn’t a single wasted moment.”

  Ross sat listening but made no further comment.

  “The fact is, I went with Jean Travis.”

  Ross, again silent, merely pursed his lips, rocked back in his chair, and playfully spun his cell phone on the desk pad.

  “You and Jean Travis are a couple? Nice. Congratulations. Sounds like it was a really special trip”

  “Yeah, it was. You know, you just reminded me… I have an idea I want to run by you, see what you think.”

  Patrick then gave a brief synopsis of what Jean had suggested to him, of forming some sort of foundation. He especially liked it as a method for giving money to causes he believed in, while also avoiding the parade of sad sob stories and crackpot deals coming his way.

  “Maybe we can take a share of my lottery winning and use it to seed the fund. And I guess there are lots of other things that have to be put in place to make it happen. What do you think? Does this make sense to you?”

  Ross regarded him, studying him so closely that Patrick began to think Ross might think it an implausible idea.

  “But if you don’t think it holds water, I can—”

  “No, no. Not at all. I was just thinking. To be honest, Patrick, that is one hell of a great idea. Do you know what kind of funding you want to do? What charities you want to support?”

  “Not yet. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it. How do I set it up? What will it take? How do I find someone to be in charge?”

  “Et cetera, et cetera.” Ross chuckled. “Good thinking, though.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t my idea. It was Jean’s. She understands what I’ve been going through since the lottery win. She’s been very supportive, and—” Patrick stopped suddenly, letting the rest of the thought drop. It was too personal.

  “Yes, she is special. I always knew Jean was beautiful and very smart.”

  Patrick repeated Ross’s remarks to himself, and it was like an echo in his head. In an instant, he felt himself physically disengage from where they were. Ross’s voice droned and faded, and Patrick began to feel an odd pounding at his temples, in his chest. His mouth went dry. He looked at Ross intently, the man who was now his financial adviser, as if he’d never set eyes on him before. That was because he was suddenly seeing a new and different Ross. And he was suddenly seeing an aspect of Ross that, from the very beginning of their relationship, had made no difference to him at all. Suddenly, it was the elephant in the room.

  “Hey! Dude, are you okay?” Ross reached out to him across the desk. “What’s going on?”

  Patrick blinked. He felt as if color was draining from his face at the same time that heat rushed over him.

  “When were you going to tell me that you and Jean…that she and you…” He couldn’t get it out.

  Ross sighed. Defeat more than apology crossed his features. He clasped his hands, resting his mouth against them, peering over his knuckles at Patrick.

  “I guess I just did,” he said quietly.

  No rancor. Just the truth.

  “And you’re correct. It’s in the past. That means there’s nothing between Jean and me now. That means it’s over and has been for a very long time, even before you two apparently started seeing each another, or you and I agreed to work together.”

  Patrick’s teeth clenched in an effort to stay in control of his exploding emotions. “Why didn’t you say something? Wasn’t your relationship with Jean, whatever it was, a possible reason me and you shouldn’t work together?”

  “What was I supposed to say? I was blindsided when you reached out to me and told me Jean Travis had referred you. The first thing that crossed my mind was, did you know about our history? Had she said anything to you? When it didn’t come up, I decided to let it ride. I thought about the possibility that you knew and it didn’t matter. I had no idea that you and Jean had any kind of hookup before you and I met. Obviously I was wrong.”

  Patrick moaned a profanity, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and cover his face with his hands.

  “Patrick…listen, man. I’m really sorry you didn’t know. If you and Jean are together now, then the past is just the past. We all have one,” Ross said in a feeble attempt at humor.

  And, of course, Ross was right. In that moment, Patrick thought of two things. The time he and Jean spent together in high school, and the time they’d spent together since reuniting after the lottery win. Every single moment flashed in his head, until five minutes ago.

  Patrick jumped up from his chair, startling Ross. “I can’t discuss this right now.”

  “I think we should. I don’t want you to leave here with the wrong impression, because I can already see that’s where you’re headed. If you decide we can’t work together any longer, I’ll understand. Hopefully, with no hard feelings.”

  “I don’t want to know about you and Jean…”

  “You won’t. But here’s the short version and the hardcore facts. Three and a half years ago, we were engaged to be married. Three years ago, she broke it off. Until an unplanned meeting at a social function last May, we have not seen each other or been in touch in those three years. Standing by her daughter, Diana Chambers chose to take her investments with my firm elsewhere. But I continue to represent Seth Travis. That was his decision. End of story.”

  “And you think that’s going to help?” Patrick said, incredulous.

  “Not right away. But it should.”

  Patrick tried to calm down, to gather himself and force the burning anger and disappointment into a closed compartment in this heart. He took a long, slow, deep breath and just as slowly released it. He sat down, staring at Ross. “You don’t understand.”

  Ross blinked at him, and his gaze narrowed. “Maybe I do. Better than you think.”

  “I don’t believe—”

  “You’re a good-looking, personable white man who’s involved with a beautiful and talented Black woman. I’m the Black man she was once engaged to. I understand perfectly. Your relationship with Jean is none of my business. I did worry about what might happen when the shit hit the fan, but that isn’t my problem either.

  “I like you, Patrick. You’re a straight-up guy. I like working with you. In the social arena, I could see us becoming good friends. You know as well as I do that no one can work out how important my past with Jean is but you and Jean.”

  Patrick sat and listened, but there were too many things churning within him. Right now, he studied Ross, seeing only a Black man who once had a significant place in Jean’s life.

  Were they more suited to be together? Did Jean think about him replacing Ross? What place did he want for himself in Jean’s life now?

  Ross slowly leaned forward, reaching his hand across his desk to lay flat in front of Patrick. “I don’t want to sound like I’m lecturing you, man. You certainly don’t need that, especially from me. Right now you only have my side of the story, and it’s all I can give you.” Ross sat back and waited.

  “I know you’re trying to be honest with me…” Patrick said, his voice sounding very far away.

  “Listen, if you want to change anything, end our agreement—”

  “Not now, Ross. I can’t think about that now. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Whenever you want. And that foundation idea is on point. I recommend you give it serious consideration, Patrick, no matter how things work out between us.”

  With that, Patrick left. He walked through the office complex to the bank of elevators. He didn’t respond to Ross’s assistant when she said goodbye, too dazed with his own crashing spirits.

  Chapter 16

  It was late when the car dropped Jean off in front of her building. This was one of those nights when she really appreciated the perks of her position. Still officially on the job after 9:00 p.m.,
she got sent home like royalty. Jean tipped the driver and got out of the midsize Jeep Grand Cherokee. She absently planned an evening curled up on her love seat with a glass of wine in front of the flat screen. She could sleep in a little late in the morning.

  The car was just pulling away when Jean stepped onto the curb and stopped abruptly in her tracks, recognizing Patrick at the entrance. A smile instantly changed her expression and then slowly began to fade. His gaze seemed disturbingly cold and closed as he watched her approach.

  “Hi. What are you doing here? I didn’t know…”

  “I should have called. I just drove out. Took a chance you’d be home.”

  Jean studied his face with its unchanging expression. No hint of a smile or welcome. No sign that he was glad to see her. She almost didn’t recognize the man who stood before her, wary and forbidding.

  “Is everything all right? It’s not your family, is it? Your mom…”

  Patrick shook his head, momentarily averting his gaze as the question caught him off guard. “No, everyone is fine.”

  Jean went immediately from being concerned to taking control of the uncharacteristic and awkward greeting between them.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she said decisively, walking past Patrick and into her building. Already her mind was rapidly trying to assess the dynamics of the situation. She exchanged pleasantries with her doorman, who also greeted Patrick with a nod of recognition. Jean noticed that Patrick didn’t respond. She began to feel a sudden tightening in her chest, unable even to guess what might be troubling him. She glanced at him as they waited for the elevator. He avoided looking at her, and her stomach sank. This was too much like his sudden appearance at her job when he expressed the need to get away…and he wanted her to come with him. Jean was pretty sure this was not going to be the same kind of scenario. He didn’t speak, and she did not attempt small talk. His brows were drawn together in a dark storm cloud.

  Was it her? Or was it him?

  Once they were inside her apartment there were no more distractions, just the two of them in what felt like a Mexican standoff, but not of her making.

  “You know your way around. Why don’t you sit down?” Jean put her tote aside on the floor near the door. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, nothing, thanks.”

  So formal. So stiff.

  “I’ll have some wine,” she said, an excuse to escape momentarily to the kitchen where she racked her brain for a possible reason for Patrick’s distance from her.

  When she returned to the living room with her wine, Jean found Patrick standing in front of the occasion table, the top surface crowded with framed photos of people near and dear to her. She already knew that he’d looked through the images before, seemingly fascinated with the people in her life, past and present. There was no framed photo of him or them. There were not yet stars in her eyes.

  He was holding a framed piece of paper. It was the note he’d written and left for her to find, just weeks after they’d met again. It was when he had to leave at the crack of dawn for a flight to the west coast for work.

  “You kept my note.” He seemed genuinely surprised.

  “It means a lot to me.”

  “Why?”

  Jean shrugged. “It was thoughtful. I found it…kind of romantic.”

  Patrick carefully placed the frame back among the others.

  “Are you going to talk to me, tell me what’s going on?”

  She was pleased that her voice was strong and clear. But her heart was pounding. Could Patrick hear it?

  He slipped his hands into his pants pocket, and then focused on her like a laser beam.

  “Ross thought the foundation concept was brilliant. I told him it was your idea.”

  “Thank you.” Jean was instantly alert. She wanted to place her hand over her chest, hoping to still the thumping agitation in the center.

  “He said he always knew you were smart and beautiful.”

  Jean swallowed, keeping her gaze riveted to Patrick, trying to read his voice, his body language…his emotions.

  “He told you, didn’t he?”

  Patrick shook his head. “I guessed about the two of you. He confirmed.”

  Jean carefully set the wine aside, trying not to spill any because her hand was trembling. “Okay,” she whispered in a tone that acknowledged the truth.

  He took a step forward. “Why didn’t you tell me? Say something? Anything!”

  “I thought about it but didn’t think I needed to. What did an old relationship have to do with you and me when we met up again?”

  “It would have been nice to know that it was over, for one thing. Especially after we began seeing each other. Especially when you recommended Ross as a financial adviser. Don’t you think there was a little conflict of interest?”

  She stiffened, angered by the implication. “My only interest in suggesting Ross was to direct you to someone I knew you could trust. It was all about you. I don’t benefit in any way.”

  “Yet you came to believe you couldn’t trust him, right? For whatever reason. He told me about the engagement, that you broke it off. So how was I supposed to feel about working with a man that you’d cast off? That you once…” He turned away, pacing.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted flatly. “I…I was concerned that my past relationship with Ross might seem… I wondered if I should tell you, Patrick. It didn’t work out between him and me, but he’s a very honest and principled businessman. That’s what I hoped you would see in him. And, to be honest, when you and I did start to see each other, I didn’t feel it was any of your business. We didn’t have that kind of relationship at first.”

  “And now?”

  “Now is a different conversation. I don’t think we should go there. What you have to know is that I never would have gotten involved with you if Ross and I weren’t done. Dead and buried.”

  He glanced at her, a question in his expression. “Why did you break it off with him?”

  “I’m not going to talk about it.”

  “That means it was important.”

  “When you break off with someone you used to care about, of course it’s important.”

  “Did he hurt you?” His voice was low and quiet.

  “He disappointed me.”

  He took another step closer. “I didn’t ask him what caused the breakup. He only said it was your decision. Like you, I guess he felt it was also his private business. Okay, I get that. But then…when I thought about it…”

  “I think I know what you thought. You started comparing yourself to Ross. Why? There’s no contest. And I’m not the prize in the middle. He made a serious judgment error about me, who and what I am. Don’t you do the same.”

  “I’m trying not to. I want to believe what we have together. Our relationship now.”

  “We’ve never talked about our relationship. What is it? Where is it going? Yes, we have a great time. I think…we’re good together.”

  “Solid chemistry between us. Don’t forget that.”

  “You’ve never said anything about us. I don’t know if there is an us.” Jean sighed and turned away from him. “It’s so frustrating, not knowing if maybe…there’s something about me. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I think so. It’s the same feeling I had when I found out about you and Ross. That maybe his being Black had more meaning for you. The fact that you’re half Black never mattered to me at all. Not in high school, not now. And that’s why I’m here. I need to know. Did I miss something? Did I assume too much?”

  Jean didn’t hear him come up behind her but didn’t resist when he carefully slipped his arms around her, drawing her back against him. Patrick gathered her close, his chin resting just above an ear.

  “I admit I felt jealous when I found out about you and Ross.”
r />   “You’re both very different men. I’m not going to make comparisons. That would be unfair to both of you.”

  “Yeah, it would be. And I like him.” Patrick paused, then went on. “Jean, you’re right that we’ve never had a real conversation about us. Maybe I’ve been taking a lot for granted. Maybe I let what I want get in the way of what you want. I have something to say about that.”

  She felt him sigh, leaning back against his chest.

  “How could you not know that I’m in love with you?” He sounded bewildered.

  Patrick’s voice was a smooth whisper, his warm breath fanning the side of her face. Jean’s stomach muscles curled, and she felt a rush of emotion that caused a welling of tears. She blinked them away.

  “Learning about you and Ross took my breath away. I realized I should have told you how I felt, have felt about you for a long time.”

  Jean shook her head, and she turned in his arms to face him, resting her palms on his chest.

  “I was hoping…but I was afraid to. I did my fair share of thinking about all those women lined up in your past. Many are showing up again, trying to squeeze themselves back into your life. It’s not exactly an image that I fit.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “I’m glad you said it first, Patrick. It would have been awful if I confessed I love you, only to find out you didn’t feel the same.”

  “Not a chance. Now you know. As for what’s next…let’s talk about that later. I think it’s going to be an ongoing conversation.” His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb under her jaw lifting her face. “For the moment I have something else in mind. Can we just hold each other?” he asked, almost sheepishly.

  He kissed her with a slow command and purpose that was almost reverent. Jean slid her arms around him to hug closer. She tilted her head to meet his lips, pressing with a sweet, deep urgency that immediately sparked arousal and tenderness in both of them. She felt the urge to cry with relief and joy. Hope and happiness.

  Patrick broke the kiss, looking deep into her bright eyes and waiting for her to take the lead. Jean headed for the bedroom with Patrick following. They silently disrobed, stopping once in the process to clasp and kiss and stroke and caress each other with a mutual ache of longing.