by Kayla Perrin
“‘Summertime and the livin’ is easy,’ that ‘Summertime’?”
She nodded, a smile growing on her face. The piano man began to play the tune in a slow, easy way.
Jay grabbed her and danced her around the piano. “My baby is on Broadway.”
They laughed and hugged to the delight of others. She drew back, looking at him. “Can we go home now?”
He looked down, surprised. “You sure you want to leave New York? When are rehearsals starting?”
“Not for three weeks and I’m very sure I want to go. Right now. I’ve already called, and it’s going to cost me three hundred dollars that I’m happy to pay to change my ticket. How much is it for you?”
It had cost him five hundred dollars to get there and his ticket was open-ended, so he wasn’t worried about it. That’s what bonuses were for. “My ticket is taken care of.”
He hadn’t told her that he needed to be in St. Croix the next day, but Jay knew they needed to have that talk.
Vivian put her arms around his waist and squeezed. “Let’s go. Besides, tomorrow is the wedding, and I wasn’t going to let you miss that.”
“Speaking of,” he said, taking her hand and guiding her away from the piano and toward the elevator.
“What is it?”
“I want you to come to St. Croix with me.”
Vivian was shaking her head no as they boarded the elevator. “I don’t want to. I don’t want the drama. I want to relax.”
“You want to come with me,” he said, gazing at her, caressing the tight bun on top of her head. Slowly his hand worked down to her neck, and he stroked her throat. “You’ll miss me.” Sadness lurked in her eyes, and Jay suspected Vivian didn’t want to be away from him, either. “Kiss me.”
She sighed softly and kissed him.
Holding her against him, they arrived at their floor. Her head rested on his chest, but they didn’t get off the elevator. “What’s it gonna be, baby?”
“I want to go,” she said, her eyes shining.
He grinned down at her. “Come on. Our flight is in three hours.”
Laughter bubbled out of her as they strode down the hall to his room.
“You’re changing my whole life.”
“It’s all for good, baby. All for good.”
Chapter 15
Walking from the wedding chapel into the balmy island sun had never felt so good. Troy and Destinee were married, and Jay was thrilled his obligations were over.
Naderia had tried to orchestrate reasons for them to be together, but he pushed her aside every time she got close to him. She’d finally promised to ruin the night for everyone. He didn’t know what she had planned, and he didn’t care. He rode in the car with Vivian. There was nothing that could keep him away from her.
Troy had brought Jay’s tuxedo from Atlanta to St. Croix, and had forgiven him for missing the rehearsal dinner, but he knew Jay was about over the wedding drama. The last thing Troy wanted was to be without a best man.
The reception had begun and the wedding party was seated. The champagne was flowing and the party started. Vivian disappeared with Idalia and Beth, laughing and having fun. Jay breathed a sigh of relief.
He hung with his boys, and enjoyed the food, wondering where his lady was.
Then he saw Vivian again, and his heart expanded. He wasn’t going to let her go.
Toasts were made by each set of parents, and then the microphone was passed to Jay.
“Troy has been my best friend for many years, and when he and Destinee started dating, she became like a best friend to me, too. I got really sick a few years ago, and my best friend did something for me few people will do for strangers. He gave me a bone marrow transplant. He gave me back my life.”
There were gasps and applause, then silence.
Jay looked at the quiet district attorney, whose head was lowered. “I can never repay him for his love and kindness, so when he asked me to be his best man, I said yes. It’s a small favor in comparison to the big favor he’d done for me. I’ll spend the best part of my life trying to emulate the man that he is. I’m very happy for him and his lovely wife. So I ask that, with all the love in your heart, you raise your glass and send your best wishes to the happy couple.”
The toast was raised and when the deafening applause died down, Jay removed his jacket signaling the guys to do the same.
Jay still had the microphone. “And there’s one more thing.”
Three chairs were placed in the center of the dance floor and the men took their positions. Idalia and Beth stood at the edge of the dance floor whispering and waving for Vivian to come to them.
The DJ pumped the music, and the wedding party started to dance, minus Naderia, Vivian in her place. The audience erupted, loving the dance, especially the bride and groom. With Naderia gone, the dance had flavor, personality and sensuality.
There was applause and laughter, and in the end, the bride and groom joined in, and all four couples danced together. Nobody cared why Naderia wasn’t there. She just wasn’t.
The bride got on the microphone. “This evening is so special. Not only did I marry the man of my dreams, but I made a new friend. I’d like you to meet the choreographer of this wonderful dance, Ms. Vivian Franklin. Everyone has blessed my wedding, but you, Ms. Franklin, have blessed my heart with joy. Thank you all so much, and one last thing. If you haven’t tried love, give it a try. There’s nothing like it. Good night and God bless you all.”
Jay kissed Vivian’s temple as they swayed around the dance floor. “I love you.”
She held him close. “You’re just saying that.”
“Why would I do that?” He leaned back, looking down at her.
“Because everything is going right. I’m about to go to New York.”
She had a point. How would they manage travel between two distant states? Living in two cities?
“Would you rather I didn’t love you? Would you rather I didn’t want to stick around for the long haul? Would you rather I didn’t get down on one knee and ask you to marry me?” He had barely made it down on his knee when she realized he was serious.
Vivian started jumping up and down, laughing. She nearly toppled Jay over. “I love you, too. Yes, yes!”
He stood, looking down at her beautiful smiling face. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
He picked her up and they spun around, kissing.
Troy and Destinee looked on proudly as the couple forged a bond that would last a lifetime.
* * * * *
ORCHIDS AND BLISS
Felicia Mason
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Chapter 1
When Baden Calloway ran away from home, she went as far west as she could. When she reached Honolulu, Hawaii—4,787 miles, six time zones and a lifetime away from Cedar Springs, North Carolina—she finally stopped running. That had been eighteen months ago. While her features carried none of the native Hawaiian, Samoan, Japanese or Pacific Islander influences of those around her, she’d managed to ditch the Southern lilt in her voice. No longer was she malihini, a tourist or outsider. She belonged here. She thrived here. And there was nothing to remind her of North Carolina or her Southern roots except her memories...and the cop banging on her front door.
* * *
Baden was not at all happy to see the shield of the Raleigh, North Carolina, Police Department through her peephole.
“Baden Calloway, I know you’re home. May I come in?”
&nb
sp; The Carolina drawl in his simple request set her teeth on edge.
No! she wanted to shout. No, you cannot come in and disrupt the life I’ve made here. No, you can’t just barge in as if nothing ever happened.
The islands of Hawaii were Paradise on earth. The very essence of the islands—forged in the violence and heat of lava and as lush as the biblical Garden of Eden—gave her the nourishment she’d so needed to heal at a time when she thought she might never recover. As far as Baden was concerned, North Carolina, especially Cedar Springs, North Carolina, could have been a continent or more away, say North Africa or northern Antarctica; in any or either case, a place she had sworn to avoid, especially after the way she had left.
Baden belonged to Hawaii, and the island retreat she now called home was her solace and refuge. The aloha spirit lived in her and she in it. There was no room for the past.
But with his very presence, the cop on her doorstep ruined Paradise, maybe forever spoiling it and her peace of mind.
It wasn’t all cops who evoked such attitude and emotion and desperation in her. It was him, that one on the other side of this elaborately carved teakwood door. He had been there when it had happened, and the fewer reminders she had, the better.
Baden did a quick calculation. She had enough money to disappear again. Maybe further west, to Samoa or Guam or possibly as far as Tokyo or Kyoto. She’d learned a few words and phrases of Japanese to impress clients and give her a small leg up on the competition. She could learn more, right?
The cop from her past knocked on the door again.
“Ms. Calloway? Baden, please. I just want to speak with you. I promise I won’t take up much of your time.”
Yeah, right, she thought, won’t take much time.
She had yet to meet a cop who could take just a few minutes. This one in particular wanted to flay her open, expose the raw nerves that, until just a few moments ago, she thought had healed quite nicely.
Baden no longer felt—or allowed herself to feel—the scar tissue below the surface. Like the volcanoes under the sea that erupted millennia ago to eventually become what today was Hawaii, there was a seething and churning inside Baden. She’d thought it dormant. Until now. With one knock on her door, she was transported back and could feel the molten lava inside her. It threatened to erupt just like the island’s volcanoes that sometimes coalesced into magnificent displays of nature’s might and glory.
On the other side of the door of this cottage—on the sprawling and luxurious estate that was her temporary home away from home—stood the catalyst that would make the volcano erupt.
“Miss Calloway? Baden? Please.”
Baden sighed heavily.
He promised he’d only take a few minutes of her time. But it had been just a few minutes of her time that had changed her life forever. Promises from cops had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
With her arms braced on the front door, she closed her eyes for a moment. Then with a few select muttered words, half curse, half prayer, she opened the portal to allow her past to disrupt her present.
* * *
Jesse Fremont wasn’t surprised that she’d refused to see him. Had their roles been reversed, he probably would have responded in the same way.
Baden Calloway.
If just her name filled him with a longing that he knew would never be quenched, what might it have been like to actually see her again? He had, of course, known that the odds of her actually opening the door and welcoming him were about the same—if not greater—as hitting the Powerball lottery jackpot back home.
Even on the drive out here in his rental car, he had tried to form the words he’d say when he saw her—if, that is, she didn’t haul off and hit him upside the head.
It’s what he deserved.
If this is where she lived, Baden had obviously done quite well for herself. A plump Samoan woman in a floral muumuu who had answered the door at the main house had told him, “Miss Baden working in cottage today.”
He’d followed her directions through a lush garden until he’d come to the so-called guest cottage. The lodging for guests at the spectacular up-country estate was bigger than his place back home in Cedar Springs.
He clearly was not going to see inside either the main house or the guest cottage because Baden wasn’t going to talk to him.
But just as he turned to go, he heard the big door open.
Baden stood there, framed by the elegant entrance, the rich and deep red browns of the wood accenting the dark honey hue of her skin. She’d changed little since he’d last seen her. Her eyes were a light, light brown that never failed to arrest him. When he’d first met her a few years ago, he had thought their color was due to tinted contacts. Her skin remained flawless. If she wore makeup other than lipstick, it had been applied with a deft hand because he couldn’t tell. A golden sundress with thin straps showed off her bare shoulders and arms, and she wore the pointy-toed high heels that women called mules.
She looked like one of the gorgeous flowers that bloomed in profusion along the walkway from the main house to the guest cottage.
“Hi, Baden,” he said.
She eyed him warily, then leaned against the door, her arms folded. “What do you want, Jesse?”
What did he want?
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to kiss her and hug her and make love to her until she forgot how much his presence reminded her of her painful past.
But he said none of those things.
“I’m in Hawaii for a bit, and thought I’d look you up.”
She swallowed, looked beyond him as if she expected a ghost or an intruder to appear from the garden. With a wry thought, he acknowledged that he probably represented both to her. And Jesse knew all too well that each of those things joined them here. Not the ghost of the woo-woo variety, but a ghost nonetheless.
“You’re looking well, Baden.”
She hadn’t moved from the doorway or invited him inside.
“You said you wanted a little time to speak with me. I’m giving you five minutes.”
She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
“May I come in?”
For a moment, he was sure she was going to say no; they would have this conversation standing in her front doorway. But with a sigh, she just turned and walked back in the house, leaving him to follow or not.
The interior was light and large. The foyer opened to a gallery of sorts—a front hall with a view of the ocean on the left side.
“Wow!”
Jesse couldn’t suppress the exclamation. The main house must have access directly to the Pacific Ocean.
This, he thought, was serious money.
She led him into a great room furnished in all white with a large—Ultrasuede?—upholstered L-shaped sectional sofa. She didn’t sit, but instead stood behind a chair on the other side of the sofa, sending a clear message that she didn’t want to be close to him.
“After all this time, I can’t imagine what you want to discuss, but I’ve got a question. How did you know I was in Hawaii?”
How could he tell her without coming off like a stalker?
He’d been keeping tabs on Baden Calloway from the moment she’d left North Carolina. And he had used the considerable information at his disposal via the police department to know she was safe and out of harm’s way. That and the fact that, since Sean’s death, he had regularly checked in with Baden’s aunt and uncle. They knew where Baden was, though they’d never exactly told him.
Public access sources also gave him plenty of information, even though she wasn’t chatty on social media sites. Given that he was already on rocky ground with her, he decided that prudence was the road best taken in this instance.
“It was pretty easy to track you d
own and get the address once I knew the name of the realty company you worked with.”
She pursed her lips and said, “Hmm. I will definitely have to make a point to tell the folks at the main office on the Big Island to be a little more circumspect. By the way, you have four minutes.”
God, did she have a stopwatch ticking in her head?
“It’s good to see you, Baden. I, well, there’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just come out with it.”
He hated seeing the wariness creep into her eyes. She suspected he had something to do with the day her world fell apart. And he was guilty as charged on that count. If she hated him before, she’d have nothing but contempt for him after today.
“I’m in Maui on vacation,” he said.
She lifted a brow. “And I’m supposed to care because why?”
“You should probably sit down,” he suggested.
Baden ignored him, clearly resenting the intrusion into the life she had made for herself here in Hawaii. Jesse knew he represented her painful and debilitating past. Hawaii was her future. One that did not have him in it, especially if this cottage was what she now considered modest.
“What do you want, Jesse?”
“I’m very sorry about S—” he began.
She held up a hand and shook her head violently.
“Don’t say it,” she said. “I do not want to talk about...him or about any of that. It is done and over. Over, you hear me?”
A part of Jesse withered and died right there in her foyer.
Even after everything that had happened, after what she had done, she still loved Sean.
That was clear as could be.
No woman would have that much lingering passion about a man if she were not still emotionally tied to him.
She folded her arms across her chest, the universal “Go to hell” posture he was used to seeing while interviewing witnesses in some of the rough-and-tumble parts of Raleigh. No one ever saw anything, heard anything or knew anything. The only thing they wanted was for him to go away.