“Don’t worry about us,” Margo said, practically dragging Monica.
A few hours later, Monica felt as if she had known Eli’s family for years. They were boisterous, and sometimes bawdy, but they were a family in every sense of the word. Apparently, the stories Margo told of her three sons were staples at family gatherings. Nearly everyone could recite them verbatim. But they all laughed at the same parts, too. From what she could glean from his mother’s tales, Eli and his brothers were a rowdy trio, but always had each other’s backs.
When Eli tapped her on the shoulder, interrupting her game of Pitty Pat, Monica realized she wasn’t ready to go.
“Are you sure you two can’t stay a little while longer, Elijah?” Margo asked as she put her hand of cards down and rose from the table.
“Sorry, Mama. Monica had plans that have been in the works for weeks. She couldn’t cancel.”
If they were really dating, Monica would be disturbed by the fact that he could lie so easily.
“Well, I’ll see you two tomorrow. And be on time, Elijah Marcus. You know I don’t take any excuses when it comes to Sundays.”
“I promise,” Eli said, his laughing eyes on Monica as he bent to give his mother a kiss.
Margo took Monica’s hands and cradled them between her soft, warm palms. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“For me, too. You have a beautiful family, Mrs. Holmes.”
“I told you to call me Margo.”
“Margo,” Monica amended.
Eli came around and rested his hand on the small of her back. It was a casual gesture, unnerving in its familiarity and how right it felt. “We’ve got to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mama. Hey, Daffodil,” Elijah hollered toward the Jungle Gym where his niece was hanging upside down.
“It’s Jasmine, Uncle Eli.” She jumped down and ran toward them. Elijah scooped her up into his arms.
“What did you say?”
The little girl rolled her eyes, “How many times do I got to tell you? My name is Jasmine.”
“How many times do you have to tell me?” He blew a raspberry on her cheek. “Enjoy the rest of your birthday.”
“Thanks for the big girl bicycle, Uncle Eli.”
“You’re welcome, Easter Lily.”
Jasmine gave him an exaggerated eye roll. His deep rumble of laughter sent a pleasant chill down Monica’s back. “That little girl,” Eli said, shaking his head as they turned onto the sidewalk and headed for his Range Rover.
“She’s precious,” Monica said.
“She’s a trip and a half. Alex has his hands full.”
“Where’s her mother, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“She died last year,” he answered.
“Oh,” Monica tried to think of something else to say, but words escaped her. How awful must it be for a five-year-old to lose her mother.
“How did she die?” Monica asked after Eli settled into his seat and buckled his seatbelt.
“A car accident,” he said, checking his review mirror then pulling out.
“That’s horrible.”
“Not really.”
Monica inhaled a shocked breath. “Why would you say such a thing?”
He swerved to miss a basketball that had bounced into the street, waving at the group of teenaged boys hanging around the basketball court.
“Chantal was smart, beautiful; everything my mother could want in a daughter-in-law,” Eli said. “But she was a bitch. Toby and I saw it from the beginning, but Alex’s nose was so wide open you could see that fool’s brain cells.”
“That’s still no reason for you to be so nonchalant about her death.”
“Look, I’m not saying I was happy to see her die, but I didn’t breakdown at her funeral either. That girl put my brother through hell.” Eli paused. He took an uneasy breath, then said, “She wasn’t alone in the car when she wrapped it around a tree.”
“Oh.” Understanding brought with it unease, as Monica felt the anger radiating from Eli.
“You want to know the worst of it?” Eli shook his head. “Alex knew all about Chantal’s other man. She had been seeing him for more than a year. Chantal had even brought her lover to their house. She had my niece calling him Uncle.”
Monica wasn’t sure why Eli was telling her all of this. It was as if he’d kept it inside and finally had someone to unload on. She could not believe Alex Holmes would tolerate such behavior in a wife. It just didn’t gel with his all-brawn, no-nonsense demeanor.
“Why in the world would he stay with someone like her?”
“She threatened to take Jasmine away. Alex would walk through fire and back before he let anyone take that little girl away from him.”
Monica nodded in understanding. Although she had only spoken to him briefly at the party, it was unquestionable that Alexander Holmes’s life revolved around his daughter.
“And you all found out about this after she died?”
“Toby and I did. Alex never told Mama. She still thinks Chantal should be petitioned for sainthood.”
“And Jasmine?”
“Her mommy is an angel. Alex would never do anything to mar Jazzy’s memory of her mother.”
“He’s the one who deserves to be sainted.”
“I’d be happy if he just went on a date again.”
“He doesn’t date?” Monica asked, amazement lifting her voice. “But he’s gorgeous.”
“Any other man would be flattered that you think so, but the compliment would probably fly right over my brother’s head. Alex hasn’t dated since before he and Chantal were married.”
“He needs a girlfriend.”
Eli let out a shout of laughter. “Please, do not say that around him. I almost got my head knocked off my shoulders the last time I suggested he get a woman.”
“I have a feeling your suggestion was more depraved than mine.”
He winked, an easy smile playing across his lips. “You’re right.”
Monica shook her head. The man was a constant flirt.
“So, what’s this about Sunday dinner?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah...that. It’s sort of a tradition.”
“Was I going to hear about it before you came to pick me up tomorrow?”
“I was going to tell you. I just hadn’t had the chance.”
“Uh huh.”
“Are you available?”
“My shift starts at six tomorrow night.”
“That’s perfect. Church is over around noon. Mama spends another hour or so fellowshipping, even longer depending on whose granddaughter dressed like a tramp for church. Dinner usually isn’t served until about two o’clock. That’s plenty enough time for you to eat and visit before you have to get ready for work.”
“Should I get used to these surprises?”
“Sorry to spring this on you. I promise to give more notice in the future.”
They pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment building. Eli got out and it wasn’t until he came over to her side to open the door that Monica realized she had waited for him to do just that. Already, she’d come to expect it.
She would not let herself get used to his gallantry. She had seen enough women lose their heads over the Cinderella treatment. Before coming to New Orleans, she had been one of them.
“Sorry the plantation hunting didn’t go well,” he said, lending his hand, which Monica accepted as she alighted from the vehicle. “Do you have a plan B?”
“Yes, but I’m not ready to give up on plan A yet,” she said. “Those were not the only plantations on the list.”
“Just let me know when you’re ready to go again.”
Her brow rose. “You’re willing to spend another day searching for a venue?”
“It’s only fair I hold up my end of the bargain. After all, you’ll be doing your share, starting with dinner tomorrow.”
Before Monica could reply, a loud voice from up the street stopped her.
“Well, it’s about ti
me!”
Chapter Thirteen
Monica and Eli turned toward the voice.
“Nia?” Monica shrieked, then ran toward her best friend who was walking up the sidewalk eating a snow cone. The two clasped each other in a hug.
“What are you doing here?”
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s your fault. You just had to go and mention beignets and jazz music. Next thing I knew, my behind was on a plane headed for New Orleans.”
“Girl, you are out of your mind.”
They started toward her building, but Nia stopped. “What do we have here?”
Eli waited where Monica had left him standing. The afternoon breeze plastered his shirt to his chest, displaying a hint of his incredibly chiseled abdomen and chest. Lord, have mercy, but the man was fine.
Monica looked over at Nia and could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Oh, no. She would not let Nia paint her own sordid picture.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she said.
“You sure, because It looks like he could be draped across a buffet table and drizzled with chocolate.”
“Nia!” Monica whispered fiercely, thankful they were still too far from Eli for him to overhear. She wished Nia would, for once, talk like the married woman she was. Granted, marrying her best friend had loosened her brother up, but maybe Phillip was a bit too trusting. Most husbands would have a problem with their wives ogling other men.
As they approached him, she said a silent prayer that Nia would not embarrass her in front of Eli. Given her sister-in-law’s track record, Monica knew she was asking a lot.
“Eli, this is my best friend, Nia. Nia, this is Doctor Elijah Holmes. He’s an Ob-gyn at Methodist Memorial.”
Eli took Nia’s hand and placed a gallant kiss on the back of it. “A pleasure to meet you.”
Nia made stupid, gooey eyes at Monica over his bent head.
“Did I interrupt something,” Nia asked. “Oh, please tell me I interrupted something. I can go back down to Jackson Square.” She turned to Eli. “How long should I stay gone? One hour? Two? The rest of the night?”
“Nia!” Monica was going to wring her neck. She needed to get this girl away from civilized people. “We need to go.” She grabbed Nia by the arm and pulled her toward her building.
“What about our date?” Eli called out after them.
Monica stopped short. She turned to find Eli smiling. He was having his own brand of fun with this.
“Date?” Nia’s eyes lit up. “You go, girl,” she whispered in Monica’s ear.
“It’s not what you think,” Monica said under her breath. Gesturing to Nia, she said to Eli, “I didn’t realize I would have company. You understand, don’t you? Maybe we can—”
“Don’t cancel your plans on my account,” Nia said.
“No, Monica’s right,” Eli replied. “You came here to visit her.”
“True, but I also came to see the city.” Dislodging her arm from the hold Monica had on it, Nia walked over to stand directly in front of Eli. “So, how long have you lived here?”
“All my life,” Eli answered.
“Well, then, you must know of some good jazz clubs. You see, my best friend lured me here with the promise of good food and good jazz, and since I’m only in town for a couple of days, I don’t want to waste a minute.”
“I can show you a few places.”
“Umm...hello?” Monica waved her hands. “I thought you were here to see me,” she said to Nia.
“You’re going to be with us. I’m not going to go hopping around the city with your man without you.”
“He is not—”
“Why don’t I go home and change, and be back in an hour to pick the two of you up?” Eli suggested. “We can have dinner at the Praline Connection.”
“I’ve heard of that place,” Nia said.
“Best cooking you can find, other than my mother’s kitchen, of course.”
“Mmmm...Southern soul food.” Nia smacked her lips. “That’s sounds wonderful.”
“I’ll see the two of you in an hour,” Eli said. Before Monica knew what he was about, he took her chin in his hand and placed a brief kiss on her cheek. Then he darted around his SUV, hopped behind the wheel and was gone.
“Giiiirl,” Nia dragged the word out. “I should have your behind for not telling me about him.”
Monica rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“The hell there’s not. Were we both looking at the same man? I know the man I just saw was about the finest I’ve seen in all my life.”
“I’m sure Phillip would appreciate hearing you say that.”
Nia waved her off. “I have to hear him fantasizing about Tyra Banks.”
“Big difference. That snow cone you’re eating has a better chance surviving in hell than Phillip has of getting Tyra Banks.”
“Don’t tell him that, honey. He thinks all it’ll take is an introduction. I told him if he’s lucky enough to get Tyra to even give him the time of day, go for it.”
Monica shook her head. “I will never understand your relationship.”
They entered the apartment building and Nia knocked on the door of the building manager. She retrieved her bags from the holding room and followed Monica up stairs.
“I want to know why this is the first I’m hearing of Dr. Holmes? I cannot believe you’ve been seeing this man and didn’t tell me, Mon.”
“I’m not seeing him. Well, not really.” Monica unlocked the door to her apartment and held it open for Nia.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She debated whether or not to tell Nia the truth about the deal she’d made with Eli, but Monica knew withholding the whole story could be detrimental. If her best friend thought for the slightest minute that Monica and Eli’s relationship was even remotely real, Nia would be on her butt like red beans on rice.
She mentally rolled her eyes. She was beginning to think like a New Orleanian.
“Before you go getting any ideas, let me explain what’s going on between me and Dr. Holmes.”
Nia plopped down on the sofa, crossed her legs and propped her elbow on her knee. “Explain away.”
Monica took a deep breath. “Elijah and I are colleagues, nothing more.”
“Hmm...well, I didn’t realize colleagues saw each other on their days off—you did tell me you were off today, right? That’s the reason I flew in, because I distinctly remember you telling me you were going to be off.”
“I—”
“And,” Nia continued, “I didn’t realize colleagues had dates. My ears were not deceiving me when I heard Dr. Fine say the two of you had a date.”
“Would you please shut up,” Monica sighed. “My goodness, girl. You should have gone to law school instead of getting an MBA.”
“My verbal skills come in handy in the boardroom, thank you very much.”
“You probably tire everybody out.”
“Why are you so cranky? Aren’t you supposed to loosen up after getting some?”
“Nia!” Monica picked up a pillow from her armchair and threw it at her.
Nia dodged it, nearly doubling over with laughter. “I’m sorry.” She took the pillow and placed in daintily in her lap. “Now, you were telling me how this extremely fine doctor you’re dating is just a colleague.”
“Really, I’m not dating him. We have an...agreement.”
Nia’s mouth dropped open. “You’re using him for sex! You go, girl!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.
Monica threw her hands in the air. “I’m through with you. I don’t know why I even bother.”
“Well, what then?” Nia groaned.
“Forget it. If I tell you what’s really going on, I won’t hear the end of it. So just go on thinking whatever you want.”
Nia rose from the sofa and came to sit on the edge of the armchair. She brushed a few strands of hair from Monica’s face. “Mon, please. Tell me what’s going on. If you’re not dat
ing him, then what’s up?”
“You promise to hold your opinions until the very end.” It was a demand.
Nia made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Promise.”
By the time Monica finished explaining the deal she’d made with Eli, she thought she would have to find a bucket for Nia to puke.
“I can’t believe this,” Nia said in a dazed whisper. “I just cannot believe it.”
“What’s so hard to believe? We’re both benefiting from the situation.”
“But look at him, Monica! If I didn’t love my husband more than my own life, I’d be going after him. You, on the other hand, have every reason to make a play for him. You’re beautiful, single, and in need of a man.”
“I am not in need of a man. Goodness, Nia, you make me sound desperate.”
“It would get your mind off Patrick.”
“I have not thought about Patrick Dangerfield since...”
Monica thought it better to shut up while she was ahead. Nia could always tell when she was lying, and if she said she hadn’t thought about Patrick since she arrived in New Orleans, Nia would see straight through her. Still, just because she had the occasional thought about her ex-boyfriend, it didn’t mean she needed to jump into another relationship—especially with Eli, a man who made it a rule not to date women of his own profession. For some reason, that still irritated her.
Nia crossed her arms over her chest, and Monica knew she was in trouble. “Give me one good reason why you don’t want to date Dr. Fine.”
“Would you stop calling him that!”
“Okay, give me one good reason why you don’t want to date Dr. Holmes.”
“Because I don’t want to. That’s all the reason you need.”
“Maybe for someone who doesn’t care, but that’s not gonna cut it with me, baby doll.”
“Nia, please.” Monica could feel a headache coming on. She knew this would happen if Nia found out about their arrangement. “Even if I wanted this to be real—which I definitely do not want,” Monica clarified. “I’m not the only one who has a say in it. Anyway, I’m not the type of woman Dr. Holmes dates.”
“Then why would he ask you to pretend?”
“I already told you, because his mother is pressuring him to get back together with his high school sweetheart. He knew if she thought he was dating an upstanding, respectable woman, she’d lay off.”
Deliver Me Page 13
