by Janice Sims
Belana nodded. “He wanted to have his say because eight months ago, I never let him explain himself. Now, though, I know why he did what he did, and I know why I haven’t been able to put him out of my mind and move on. You’re the first guy I’ve gone out with since Nick and I stopped seeing each other.”
“Oh, damn,” moaned Eli. “You’re about to tell me goodbye, aren’t you?”
Belana gently squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, Eli. I can’t date you knowing how I feel about Nick.”
“Has he given you hope?” Eli asked.
“No, we haven’t really talked, just admitted to each other that we both messed up. But I’m hoping he’ll forgive me.”
Eli smiled. “What could you have done that would require forgiveness?” He bent his head and kissed her knuckles. Sighing with resignation, he rose and pulled her up with him. “That was a rhetorical question. I guess you want to run after him and see if you can still catch him?”
Belana’s heart raced at the notion. Had Nick had time to leave the St. Regis yet?
“If you don’t mind,” she said. “You’re my date. If you want me to stay until the end of the evening, I’m yours until then.”
“Yes, but you’re not really mine,” said Eli. “Your heart belongs to Nick.” He smiled ruefully. “Go, Belana.” He started to say, go with my blessings, but thought he would sound too much like that Catholic priest he’d mentioned earlier.
Belana grabbed her clutch and tiptoed to kiss Eli’s cheek. “You’re a great guy, Eli Braithwaite.”
“And yet I’m the one going home alone,” Eli joked.
Hurrying away, Belana paused at the exit to blow him a kiss. Eli pretended to catch it as he watched her turn and practically run out of the room. After she had disappeared around the corner, he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved his cell phone. Disappointed though he was, he knew when to call it a day. But he still had a few choice words for Nicolas Reed.
Nick’s number was programmed into his cell phone. He pressed a button and Nick’s cell phone began ringing.
Nick picked up on the third ring. “Eli,” Nick answered, his tone sounding rather worried to Eli’s ears. Or maybe Eli just wanted him to sound nervous about a phone call from him, especially since he’d stolen his date right out from under his nose!
“Are you still in the hotel?” Eli asked.
“Yes, I’m downstairs in the bar having a drink,” said Nick a bit hesitantly. “Why?”
“I should come down there and knock you out,” Eli said through clenched teeth. “Belana told me about you two, and then she said she couldn’t see me anymore.”
“She did?” Nick asked with a break in his voice. Eli thought Nick might have been trying to keep his tone neutral when what he really wanted to do was shout for joy.
“That’s right,” Eli continued angrily. “I hope you’re happy, you woman-stealing son of a b…”
“Eli!” Nick admonished. “Your mother, the pastor, would be appalled at your language.”
Eli laughed. “My mother’s not here. I never even got the chance to kiss Belana. I’m sure that’s an unforgettable experience.”
“It is,” Nick agreed.
“I thought so!” Eli said regrettably. “You don’t have to sound so smug about it.”
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Eli. I didn’t know Belana would be here tonight. If I had, I might not have shown up,” Nick said sincerely.
“But you did, and dateless. If you’d brought a date, like any normal guy, she would’ve kept you in line and not allowed fate to step in and give you another chance with my dream girl!”
“Now you’re laying it on a little thick,” Nick accused his young friend. “You’re actually okay with this, aren’t you, Eli?”
Nick tried to keep the laughter out of his voice, but didn’t succeed. It had occurred to him that Eli Braithwaite was used to women falling all over him, doing anything to get the attention of the multi-millionaire ballplayer. This might be a minor blow to his ego, but he was twenty-two; he would bounce back.
“Okay, you got me,” admitted Eli, laughing. “But I had you going there for a minute. By the way, don’t go anywhere because Belana’s on her way downstairs to find you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Nick promised. “Thanks for being so understanding about this. A lesser man wouldn’t have been.”
“My pastor mother taught me well,” said Eli. “Talk to you later.”
“All right, man, you take care,” said Nick, and closed his cell phone. In the St. Regis’s premier bar, the King Cole Bar, he sat in front of the Maxfield Parrish Art Nouveau mural, which was the centerpiece of the establishment. The huge mural which depicted King Cole and his court ran the length of the bar. Elegant gold-colored barstools blended in well with the polished wood of the mural’s trim and the bar itself. He’d mentioned the King Cole earlier to Belana so he hoped she would try it first before looking for him elsewhere.
He sipped his Jack and Coke, trying not to be nervous. But he was. He’d rarely wanted anything to work out as badly as he wanted to fix this thing with Belana.
Chapter 4
“I’m such a dunce,” Belana muttered to herself as she searched her cell phone for Nick’s number. She was in the elevator on the way down to the lobby. A couple, obviously on a date if their stealing kisses were any indication, stood locked in each other’s arms in one corner. Three businessmen in expensive suits were discussing where to go for a drink. Frustrated, she closed her cell phone and shoved it back in her bag. Why did she make it a habit of deleting the numbers of past boyfriends from her cell phone? Earlier, when she’d told Nick she had his number, she hadn’t been lying. She had it. She just didn’t have it on her. It was in her little black book at home in the top drawer of the nightstand next to her bed. That had been fine when she’d planned on phoning Nick after Eli took her home tonight. But now that she was trying to catch up with him before he left the St. Regis, that number at home wasn’t doing her any good!
She glared at the descending numbers on the elevator’s panel as if she could will them to move faster. When the display read Lobby, she impatiently paced in place until the door slid open. She was the first person out. Turning to her left, she searched the huge lobby. Guests were checking in at the desk, others were leisurely strolling through the lobby, impeccably dressed, obviously going out for a taste of the incomparable New York City nightlife.
She spun around, looking for any sign of Nick. No luck whatsoever. She hurried across the lobby to the entrance, went through the doors and underneath the awning. “Excuse me,” she said to the uniformed doorman. “But did you see a tall, good-looking guy in a dark suit leave?”
The doorman, a Hispanic man in his mid-thirties with a thick black mustache and soulful brown eyes, smiled and said, “Could you be more specific? I see a lot of men in dark suits.”
“He’s African-American, around six-three, built like a linebacker and he has a neat beard, but no mustache like your lovely mustache.” Flattery wouldn’t hurt.
“No, I haven’t seen anyone who fits that description,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I’ve seen a lot of basketball players, but no football players.”
“Thank you!” Belana called over her shoulder, already retracing her steps and re-entering the lobby. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly eleven.
She didn’t think Nick was a guest of the hotel, so he hadn’t gone to a private room. If he hadn’t left the premises, what amenities did the hotel have to offer visitors at this hour?
Then, it dawned on her: earlier, Nick had mentioned meeting him in the hotel’s bar. Maybe he had gone in there for a drink before hailing a cab and heading home.
She turned and began walking in the direction of the King Cole Bar. She’d been there on a couple of occasions and had enjoyed the ambience.
Nick couldn’t sit still any longer. He rose, put a twenty on the bar and started walking toward the exit. Here he was mentally w
illing Belana to find him when he should have been proactive and searching for her. It was true: your brain simply doesn’t work right when love is in the equation. He paused in his steps as he made his way across the room. Where had that come from? Did he love Belana Whitaker?
He continued walking. He desired her more than he’d desired anyone else since Dawn’s death. He was definitely intrigued by her. She was a complex woman and he was drawn to complex women. Strong women who had more going for them than just looks. They had only dated for two months but what he’d learned about her in those months had kept him interested for eight more. It hadn’t been the memory of making love to her, either, because they hadn’t made love yet. Now, perhaps, he would get to know her better and find out if what they felt for each other was worth fighting for.
He was almost at the entrance to the bar when Belana appeared in the doorway. He stopped walking. She spotted him and smiled. In a moment or two, they were standing in front of each other. “You remembered,” he said as he reached for her hand.
She took it and let him lead her back to the bar. He held on to her hand until she was seated on one of the barstools. “Finally,” she said, smiling broadly. “I searched everywhere I could think of. I even went outside and spoke to the doorman before I remembered you’d mentioned meeting you here. Sorry, my brain’s not firing on all cylinders tonight.”
They were looking into each other’s eyes and didn’t notice the bartender until he cleared his throat. “What can I get you?” he asked, smiling patiently.
“Belana?” asked Nick.
“I’d just like a mineral water with lime,” Belana said to the bartender. In a lower voice, to Nick, she said, “I’ve already consumed my limit at the fundraiser.”
Nick, not needing anything more intoxicating than her presence, said to the bartender, “Same for me.”
The bartender left to prepare their drinks.
Nick’s dark brown eyes raked over her lovely face. She had large whiskey-colored eyes whose expression right now was so sultry he was getting aroused. His gaze traveled to her pert nose, and full, heart-shaped mouth, down to her swan-like neck and that lovely hint of cleavage. Belana felt herself melting under his intense scrutiny. But she didn’t want it to end. No one had looked at her like this…ever! Or perhaps she had not been as receptive to the lascivious stares of other men as she was to Nick’s. Whichever reason, she was so turned on, her nipples were hard and they weren’t the only body parts that were swelling in anticipation of sexual release.
She took a deep breath. She needed to talk seriously to Nick. She crossed her legs, but that only intensified the arousal between them. She uncrossed them and primly closed them. The bartender returned with their drinks and quickly made himself scarce again. They murmured their thanks.
Belana took a sip of her mineral water with lime and cleared her throat. She hated to break this lovely spell, but Nick deserved to know whom he might be getting involved with. That is, if he didn’t walk out of her life forever after she’d had her say.
She wanted to capture the way he was looking at her right now in her mind’s eye and make it an indelible memory of this night. His head was cocked to the side as he drank her in with his eyes. Although the bar was full of people, she felt alone with him. She felt like she was the center of his world. He definitely was the center of hers right now.
She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. Nick smiled against her mouth and pressed more firmly, but not aggressively so. Her lips parted and the kiss deepened. Tongues tasted, but did not plunder. They soon parted and continued to smile at one another.
“You’re as sweet as I remembered,” Nick said.
“So are you,” she returned with a barely audible sigh. After a deep breath she began to talk. “I told you that even though I was angry about your dating someone else while we were seeing each other, I was also relieved.”
“Yeah, that puzzled me,” said Nick.
Belana made sure she maintained eye contact as she continued. “When we were dating I was locked into this belief that like my mother, I couldn’t commit to a lasting relationship. To explain, I have to tell you about my family.”
Nick nodded in agreement. They hadn’t talked much about each other’s families during their time together. They were just getting to know each other when the incident that broke them up happened.
“My mother divorced my father and abandoned my brother and me when I was barely two,” Belana stated with no emotion. She believed that by this time in her life all of the emotions connected with her mother had long been wrung out of her. “I didn’t see her again until I was ten when she decided to come to one of my dance recitals. I didn’t even recognize her. My father had shown us pictures of her over the years, but pictures never did her justice.”
“She’s quite a beauty, huh?” asked Nick softly.
“She is beautiful but that’s not all. She’s very striking in person, kind of intimidating even though she’s only five-two. She’s cold and distant, completely contained as if control is the most important thing to her.”
Nick didn’t say anything, but his brows rose questioningly. “Maybe you’ve heard of her,” Belana asked. “Mari Tautou?”
“Mari Tautou, the dancer?” Nick asked, sounding astonished. He only knew of her because of the few posters of female dancers his daughter had on her bedroom wall, Mari Tautou was prominently displayed. “My daughter is into ballet. She’s got more posters of your mother on her wall than any other dancer.”
“Many little ballerinas grow up wanting to be just like her,” Belana said sadly. “I did.”
Nick reached over and grasped her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m sorry she wasn’t a better mother to you and your brother.”
“Most of the time, I didn’t even think about her. My dad was great. Erik and I never lacked for love. It was only times when the other kids at school had their mothers with them that I missed her. That I felt as if I were somehow unlovable because no mother combed my hair at night or took me shopping. Any number of things a mother does. Subconsciously, I really did miss her, though. I was drawn to dancing. Maybe I thought that if I was good at it she would come back and be my mother. But when she finally did come back she had only one thing to say to me.” Her eyes began to tear up as the memory burned brightly. After her performance in the recital, this pretty woman in a white dress had walked up to her backstage. She had taken her small chin in her hand, tilted her head up so that she was looking her squarely in the eyes and said in a well-modulated voice, “You have the makings of a fine dancer. But you must work on your positioning, and you need more stamina. Running will give it to you, so run, little one, run!”
“She told me I needed to start running,” Belana told Nick, “for stamina. After that she simply turned and left. My father walked backstage just before she left and the two of them stared at one another for a moment. He was frozen in shock. She smiled at him as if she pitied him. I remember that distinctly, how she looked at him. My father was my hero and I wanted to run after her and hit her for looking at him that way. And I would have but when I ran past my father, he grabbed my arm. ‘Baby,’ he said, pulling me into his arms for a hug, ‘you were wonderful up there. The best Sugar Plum Fairy I ever saw.’ And we never talked about it. It was as if she was an apparition. I think it hurt him too much to talk about her.” She breathed deeply and exhaled. “Which brings me to the reason we’re having this discussion,” she said. “When I started dating I noticed that whenever a guy began getting serious about me, I would make up an excuse to stop seeing him. Worse, if I started to feel something for the guy, that inevitably meant he had to go.”
“Because you believed that since you had inherited your mother’s love of dance, you had also inherited her lack of commitment,” Nick guessed.
“Yes, and because I saw how badly she’d hurt my father,” Belana told him. “He didn’t recover for years. He threw himself into his work and into raising me and Erik. It
wasn’t until around three years ago that he found happiness with another woman.”
“That’s an awful lot of responsibility for a young girl to shoulder,” said Nick, looking into her eyes. “Taking on your mother’s sins, saving unsuspecting men from the same fate as your father, while your happiness got put on the back burner.”
Belana looked surprised. “You don’t think I’m neurotic?”
“We’re all a little neurotic, Belana. I’m a mess trying to raise my daughter without her mother. I feel guilty all the time because she’s living with her grandmother but would rather be living with me. But I know with my schedule, she’s better off with my mother. Family makes us nuts sometimes. Your mother sounds especially cold-blooded, but your father, on the other hand, sounds like a really great guy.”
“He is,” Belana immediately said, smiling.
“Then forget about your mother. One good parent is a lot more than some people get.” Peering into her eyes, he smiled warmly. “What matters is, you recognized why you were running away from your emotions. And now you’re ready to stand and face them.”
“I am,” Belana confirmed, smiling back at him. This was going better than she’d imagined it would. “Then you forgive me?”
“I do,” said Nick. “Do you forgive me for using bad judgment in the first place and seeing someone else?”
“Like I’ve already told you,” said Belana, “you didn’t do anything wrong. I had no right to expect you to be faithful to me when I was just looking for a way to get rid of you.”
Nick winced. “It doesn’t sound nice when you put it that way.”
“It wasn’t nice,” Belana said. “In my effort to avoid being like my mother, I treated you cruelly, and I’m sorry about it.”
Nick looked deeply into her eyes. “You’re doing all this confessing, offering yourself up for judgment, and I haven’t told you much about myself. Maybe my shortcomings will warn you off.”
