by Donna Hill
“I know. I should have…I…” She pushed out a sigh. “Brent started staying at the spa later. We used to go out a lot. That started slowing down. And…he stopped…touching me.”
“Oh, Layla…”
She sniffed and blinked back tears.
“You were going through all this alone?”
“It was so gradual that I almost didn’t notice. And when I said anything, he’d tell me that I was blowing things out of proportion. He said he was trying to build the business, that he was tired…the list goes on. I didn’t want to rock the boat so I tried not to press him. I tried not to make an issue of things. I tried not to ask too many questions.” Her gaze rose to meet Desiree’s. “That’s why I can’t let this go. I’m not going to be the same fool twice, Desi,” she declared, her voice taking on strength.
“I hear you.” She paused thoughtfully. “Then you need to talk to him. Clear the air.”
Layla slowly nodded in agreement. “I intend to.”
Desiree’s cell phone rang. She dug her phone from her pants pocket. “It’s Mel,” she mouthed. “Hey, girl, what’s up?…Okay. I’m here with Layla. Sure. Hold on a sec.” She held the phone away from her mouth. “Mel wants me to come by later to talk about the party. You want to come? You should.”
Layla nodded, yes.
“Layla is going to come, too. We’ll be there around seven. Great. See you later.” She disconnected the call and turned her focus on Layla. “Look, we’ll have a girl’s night, talk, have a few drinks, discuss the party and figure this Maurice Lawson thing out.”
Layla leaned back in her seat. A shadow of a smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “Sounds like a plan.”
Maurice took a slow and measured walk along the shore. After his talk with his therapist and then running into Kim, he needed to clear his head. He felt like two people wrestling for control in one body. A part of him was trapped in his past, trapped by dark emotions, trapped by pain and invested in disdain. The other part of him was filled with a glimmer of hope, a sliver of light, it teased him with what life would be like if he relinquished the burden of his mental and physical chains. Layla opened that door for him. She held the key to chains that bound him. When he was with her he understood how things could be, but to give in to those emotions would be to concede defeat. It would mean allowing the memory of his father to be forever tarnished by what his uncle had allowed to happen. It would mean absolving himself of his role in the deaths of his friends.
And he was not sure that he or his uncle deserved absolution or forgiveness.
He leaned down and picked up a seashell. The sand that coated it shone like flecks of diamonds in the late day sun. The soothing sound of the waves, the echoes of laughter and the caw of the seagulls all lent themselves to wash him in a feeling of calm. When he looked out beyond the horizon, it was a different life that he saw there. It wasn’t the life that he’d lived for the past ten years. It was the life he could have had if things had not gone so terribly wrong.
He didn’t want to go back to the way things were. He’d gotten a taste of how good things could be. He got to experience, once again, what it felt like to let go of all the hurt and anger and disappointment and feel real happiness. All the months of therapy had not done that, but Layla had.
That was yet another dilemma that he wrestled with—his feelings for Layla. Were they even real or merely a result of how she’d physically made him feel?
He pressed his cane down into the sand and allowed it to bare his weight. It was more than physical. He pushed out a long breath of acceptance. It was more than her ability to make his pain go away. And, for Maurice, that realization was more frightening than an unseen enemy.
Chapter 18
“You know I’m all for being up front,” Melanie was saying as she set out a tray of baby quiche appetizers on the outdoor table. A warm breeze blew in off of the ocean. “I am a firm believer in knowing what’s going on in a relationship…mine and everyone else’s,” she added with a laugh. “It may very well be nothing. But it will bug you until doomsday if you don’t say anything. Let him tell you and then it’s up to you to believe him or not.” She reached for a quiche. “But that does not let you off the hook for not telling us what the hell that bastard Brent was doing.”
Layla crossed her long legs and munched on her piece of quiche. “I know. Water under the bridge now.”
“’Cause you know it wouldn’t have taken anything out of me to make a little road trip to the city,” Desiree said.
“Exactly. Pay Mr. Davis a little visit. Wake up and find a horse’s head in his bed,” Melanie said, doing a very bad job of looking the tough girl part with her expertly coiffed hair, perfectly applied makeup and designer attire.
Layla and Desiree burst out laughing, sputtering pieces of quiche.
“Mel, you are a fool,” Layla managed. She reached for a napkin and wiped her mouth.
Melanie arched a brow and bit down on a grin. “You know I know people who know people. We can still get him put in a trunk somewhere, and Maurice too, if he doesn’t act right. I don’t care who his uncle is.” She twisted her lush lips in annoyance.
“Stop, okay. Nobody is getting put in a trunk,” Layla said over her giggles.
“Humph.”
“Anyway…do you need me to do anything for the party?”
“Agree to let me introduce you to some of my very eligible bachelors that will be there.”
Layla made a face. “Don’t you think I have enough to deal with?”
“It will give Maurice something to think about if he sees another man interested in you.”
“I’m not going to play games, Mel.”
“Who said anything about playing games? I’m very serious. Maurice Lawson hasn’t slipped a ring on your finger. He doesn’t own you. And just because he turned your lights back on doesn’t mean he’s the only one who can.”
“Mel!” Desiree chastised.
“What?” she asked wide-eyed. “It’s the truth. He has to be more than good in bed. Can we all at least agree on that?” Layla and Desiree nodded in reluctance. “If you are even thinking about making a real commitment to that man, you are going to know him inside out. He’s got to be up front with you and you with him. And then you both decide if you want to deal with what you’ve exposed.”
“We have talked,” Layla said. “His scars aren’t only from his injury. They’re deep and he’s trying to find a way to deal with them.”
Melanie picked up her wineglass and raised it to her lips. “If there is one thing that I learned over the years, from being in the matchmaking business, you can’t fix a man. You can’t turn a man into someone he has no intention of being, no matter how much they care about you and you care about them. There is only so much changing they will do. And if by some miracle they do, you realize that all the things you changed are the very things that drew you to them in the first place.”
“So, what are you saying, Mel?”
“I’m saying, the scars, the baggage, the whatever, are all a part of who Maurice is, who any of us are. If it’s going to work it, will have to work with both parties accepting that, finding a way to make it work in spite of the imperfections. But you can’t erase them. You simply can’t.”
Layla allowed room in her own muddied thoughts for Melanie’s advice. Mel was always the straight shooter of the trio, Ms. No Nonsense and it never steered her wrong. But this time… She sipped her mojito. “So, how many people are you expecting for this shindig?”
Mel laughed. “In honor of Desiree and Lincoln I’ve kept my list to a modest fifty.”
“Gee thanks,” Desiree deadpanned. She turned to Layla. “Did you ever ask Maurice if he wanted to come?”
“No. I meant to but we always seem to get distracted.” A wicked grin flickered on her lips.
“Before or after I ask him about Kim Fleming?”
Melanie leaned forward. “Everyone seems to be so much more agreeable after one of my parties. Besides, if he doesn’t say what you want to hear, I don’t want you to mope through the whole party. It will make it that much harder to get one of my eligibles interested in you.”
“Mel! Enough of trying to set me up.”
Melanie threw up her hand. “All right, all right. But just remember I have a fabulous track record.” She glanced toward the doorway and her entire countenance became lit from within. “Just ask my sexy husband.”
Claude strolled over, leaned down and placed a long, slow kiss on his wife’s lips. “You ladies still plotting to take over the world?”
“Of course,” Desiree said. “And it will be so smooth and well planned, you men won’t even know what happened.”
“Promises, promises,” Claude said. He perched on the edge of Melanie’s chair. “How are the party plans going?”
“Everything is set. I finalized everything with the caterer this morning and the entertainment manager.”
“I can’t thank you both enough for doing this for me and Lincoln.”
“Mel doesn’t need a reason for a party,” Claude said. He gave her shoulder a loving squeeze.
“And there is never a better reason than to celebrate a successful relationship,” she said, gazing lovingly up at her husband.
Claude leaned down and kissed her tenderly then sat up. “I will leave you ladies to continue doing what it is you do when men aren’t around.”
Desiree and Layla finger-waved as Claude walked back into the house.
“So…what is on the menu?” Desiree asked.
And the trio launched into the details of the upcoming party.
Maurice walked back from the beach with the intention of stopping by the spa, hoping to see Layla even though he knew it was beyond closing time. As he’d suspected, he found the spa closed up tight. He needed to speak to her. After his talk with his therapist and then seeing Kim there was so much he wanted to tell Layla. She had a way of making him see things that were right in front of him all the time, providing a kind of clarity that made the obstacles surmountable.
He’d spoken with Dr. Morrison at length and he’d told her about Layla and how things were going between them. He surprised himself with his revelations. It was the first time he’d taken what had been going on in his head and in his heart about Layla, turned them into words and said them out loud.
Dr. Morrison joked that it seemed that Layla was angling for her job, but she was very pleased that he’d found someone like her. She could sense the change in him and it was a good change, a positive one. And he grudgingly agreed that she was right about him coming to the Harbor.
He hadn’t talked to Dr. Morrison about meeting his buddy’s wife, Kim. It was an issue that he was still wrestling with. Who did he owe his allegiance to: the SEALs and the U.S. government or to his friends who gave up their lives under his watch? It was a question that ate away at him. What was the right thing to do? And now that Kim had actually confronted him…his wall of resistance weakened. He’d been trained to be bound by silence, even under the most inhumane conditions and physical torture. But there was no training that prepared him to look into the eyes of a woman who loved her husband and lie to her.
He started back toward the main building and walked into the lounge, hoping to spot Layla. Many of the tables were occupied, but he didn’t see her. As he was about to leave, Lincoln approached him.
“Hey, how are you?” Lincoln greeted. “Lawson, right? Maurice?”
Maurice offered a short smile and a nod. “That’s me.”
“I try to put a name with the faces of my guests. Sometimes I do better than others,” he joked. “Haven’t seen you around too much. How are you enjoying your stay?”
“It’s been great. Better than I expected to be honest. Accommodations, food, atmosphere…no complaints from me.”
“That’s a testimonial that we can use,” he said with a grin. “Heading out?” he asked with a lift of his chin toward the exit.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“How long have you been in business?” Maurice asked.
Lincoln pushed the door open and held it for Maurice. “Hmm, this will be seven years in August.”
“I would think it would be kind of risky, seasonal, I guess I should say.”
“True. But at the time that I opened The Port, all I wanted was a complete change. I didn’t care too much about the highs and lows of the guest flow.” He snorted a laugh. “Not the most astute businessman in the world.”
Maurice snatched a look at him and grinned. “Seemed to have worked out for you, though.”
Lincoln bobbed his head in agreement. “There’s something special about this place…and of course my wife, Desiree, is really the one who transformed it and me. It was our idea when we first got together…then things got crazy…we broke up and I came here, started our dream without her. And then I really nearly lost her when her art studio in New York burned down…with her inside.”
“Whoa. A fire?”
“Yeah. Turned out to be arson.” He pushed out a breath, shook his head and chuckled lightly. “Fate is a funny thing, man. Of all the places that she could have gone to recover and get her head right, she wound up here—without even knowing I was running the place. But it didn’t really come together until we did. Oh, let me clarify,” he said, holding up his hand, “until she was ready. Women,” he said with a chuckle.
They turned along the path and Lincoln acknowledged several of the guests that they passed.
“So, what do you do when you’re not chilling on the beach and tossing back drinks?”
Maurice smirked. “I was in the Navy.”
“Really. Wow. Was? Is that how you got hurt, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Yeah,” he answered quietly.
“My uncle was in the military. Marines. Career soldier. Totally committed and dedicated. He got hurt in the Gulf War and couldn’t go back.” He slowly shook his head. “Really screwed with his head. He was never able to accept it and adjust to civilian life. And the fact that he was alone, no wife, no kids and refused to get help only made a bad situation worse.”
“What eventually happened to him?”
Lincoln momentarily gripped Maurice’s shoulder. “I don’t need to lay all that on you, bro, get my uncle’s story in your head.” They kept walking. “You seem like you have it together.”
Maurice sidestepped that comment. “How long have you been married?”
“Five years.”
“What about you? Married, engaged, accounted for?”
Maurice chuckled and shook his head. “Naw, not at the moment.” He thought about Layla and if she would ever fill any of those parts of his life.
“As a matter of fact, we’re having our anniversary party this weekend.”
“Nice. Congratulations.”
They continued along the path toward the guest cottages.
“You’re more than welcome to come.”
“Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Please, no imposition. The more the merrier. Bring a guest if you want.”
He glanced at Lincoln. “I’ll think about it. How’s that?”
“Good enough. Friday night. Eight o’clock.” He dug a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Maurice. “If you decide to come, call me and I’ll give you the details.”
“Sure. Thanks.” Maurice pocketed the card.
They came to the juncture in the path.
“I’m up that way,” Maurice said raising his cane in the direction of his cottage.
“Cool.” Lincoln stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
They shook hands.
“Call me,” Lincoln said and started to turn off down the path then stopped. “Hey, if you’re into it, you should check out the spa. My wife’s sorority sister runs the place. Everyone tells me she’s amazing.”
“Uh, yeah. I can vouch for that.”
Lincoln studied him for a minute and a slow grin of unspoken understanding moved across his mouth. “Hope to see you Friday, man.”
Maurice gave him a nod and headed toward his cottage but changed directions. He wanted to see Layla. Needed to, actually. He walked toward her cottage, hoping that she was there, only to find that she wasn’t.
He stood on her porch for a moment, then took out his cell phone and punched in her number. The phone rang several times before going to her voice mail. He hesitated before leaving a message.
“Hi, it’s Maurice. I was hoping we could have a late dinner or a nightcap, if you don’t have plans. Call me.”
He covered the two steps of the porch and began the walk back to his place when he looked down the path and saw Layla coming in his direction and an inexplicable wave of happiness moved through his limbs. He felt lifted. It was the only way he could explain it.
As he followed her approach, she was unaware that he watched her. She had her phone to her ear. There was a carefree air about her, an aura that was devoid of the clouds that often hovered over him. She seemed to carry a light within her that brightened everything in her path. It sounded crazy in his own head to even think along those lines, like some love struck poet, but that’s what it felt like.
The curve in the path straightened and when she followed it she saw Maurice. Her step momentarily faltered as she cupped her eyes with her hand to shield them from the glare of the setting sun before she continued.
She stopped in front of him. “I just listened to your voice message about dinner tonight.”
“I don’t usually drop in on ladies unannounced, but I wanted to see you.”
