His Golden Heart

Home > Other > His Golden Heart > Page 8
His Golden Heart Page 8

by Marcia King-Gamble


  “The public is expecting someone active and virile.”

  “And you’re not? Where’s the confidence?” David’s freckles almost popped off his face.

  “The client hired an athlete, a hotshot skier. Doesn’t the voice-over say something like ‘real men drink coffee on their downtime’?”

  David laughed, then chugged his beer. “I’m glad you still have your sense of humor. That’s more like my old cocky Beau.”

  Beau’s colorful expletive shut David up.

  “Okay, boys, clean up the language,” Beau’s mom called. “We ladies are about to join you.”

  Shayna and his mother headed toward them. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off his physical therapist. She was stunning. He wasn’t sure how much of the conversation she’d overheard. He had taken time with his appearance, ditching his comfortable old sweats, and putting on a designer polo shirt and loose-fitting Chinos. The outfit made him feel more human. Hospital garb got old.

  Although the crisp evening air lent itself to a sweater, he’d draped one over his shoulders, looping the sleeves around his neck. Shayna was wearing a stylish pair of capri pants with a matching jacket. The jacket hung open and under it was a sky-blue camisole. She’d opted for flats and looked tinier than ever.

  Again he had this huge urge to protect her. But Shayna didn’t need protecting. She could hold her own with the best of them. The carton she carried looked as if it might have survived a spill. Beau wondered what was in it.

  “Hi,” he greeted, and quickly introduced David.

  Shayna set the soggy box down on the patio table and accepted the hand David offered.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” David said. “Beau just never told me how pretty you are.”

  Shayna batted her eyelashes, flirting back. She still hadn’t paid him much attention. He noticed that she scanned the surrounding area. He’d often heard it said that his home was impressive. That the view from the patio was something that one would expect to see on a movie set. Shayna obviously thought so too.

  “She is, isn’t she?” his mother interjected. “Beauty and brains, a lethal combination. I’m trying to convince her to stay for dinner.”

  “Can you?” Beau heard himself ask. Having Shayna for dinner would be an unexpected bonus.

  “I’ve made plans to have dinner with my brother,” Shayna answered.

  “But you were going to call and invite him to join us,” Victoria reminded her. “Where is Towanda with that phone?”

  “Here, use mine,” David offered, removing a phone from his pocket and flipping it open.

  Shayna promptly punched in the numbers. She held the phone to her ear for what seemed an eternity and ended up leaving a message.

  “He’s not there,” she confirmed, returning the telephone to David.

  Victoria flopped onto one of the vacant chairs. “Good that settles that. You’re having dinner with us.”

  “I’m glad you offered to help Towanda barbecue, David, I’m whipped.”

  “What’s in the box?” Beau asked, changing the conversation.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Shayna crossed over to the table and gingerly picked up what looked like two vases. Out of the top healthy-looking greenery grew. Swimming around their base were two colorful betas.

  “What’s this?” Beau asked, looking at the swimming fish, who didn’t appear too happy.

  “That’s Salt and Pepper. They needed a home. I thought, who better to care for them than you? Fish are very therapeutic and soothing to the nerves.”

  “They’re cute. What made you think my nerves need soothing?”

  Beau exchanged looks with Shayna while David sat quietly, observing them both.

  “Did I say that?” Shayna quickly retorted.

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Maybe it’s my nerves that need soothing,” Shayna muttered.

  How different she was from Chandra. Chandra would never have thought to bring him fish. Chandra, rather than jousting back and forth, would probably have started a screaming match by now.

  “Children,” Victoria called, “you’re beginning to sound like an old married couple. Before you really go at it, can I convince one of you to help David barbeque?”

  Shayna immediately volunteered. Beau watched as she and David collaborated on how best to cook beef and roast potatoes, and serve up portobellos. Had things been different he would have been up there helping them. He used to make a mean barbecue.

  As Shayna joked with his agent, Beau realized how easy she was to be with. Under different circumstances he and she might have had a chance but they’d started off on the wrong foot. Besides, he needed to remember that Shayna was his therapist. He had little to offer her now.

  Even as a boy Beau had hated the idea of asking for help. Now it had come down to this, his being dependent on a therapist to show him how to walk again. He despised having to open up and let another human being in. He had no desire for anyone to see how helpless and vulnerable he was.

  Towanda brought out napkins, cutlery, and plates, and quickly set the table. The tantalizing smell of barbecued beef filled the air as huge portions of food were forked onto each plate. David guzzled another beer, while he, Shayna, and Beau’s mom settled for iced tea. They’d asked Towanda to join them, but she’d declined.

  Sunset coated the mountains in pinks and corals, turning what was left of the day a delightful pinky hue. Beau had missed this. Missed being home. A feeling of peace and contentment wrapped itself around him like a well-worn blanket. He heard Vodka, Scotch, and Whiskey neighing in the background. Tomorrow he would get himself down to the stables. His horses had probably forgotten him. At last he began to relax.

  “Who’s overseeing Hill Of Dreams these days?” David asked, after coffee was served, and an incredible-looking carrot cake placed before them.

  “My dad and the fellow I hired on as a manager.”

  “How’s it going?”

  Beau shrugged. He really didn’t know how it was going. He’d trusted his dad to ensure the place ran smoothly. There’d been frequent updates but he hadn’t paid attention.

  His mother came to the rescue. “It’s going really well. ’Course the staff and people frequenting the center miss Beau’s monthly visits. I’ve assured them that once he gets well, he’ll be back.”

  “Why don’t you visit?” David asked.

  Shayna turned to Beau. “We said we would, didn’t we? I’ve heard so much about Hill Of Dreams, I’d really like to see it.”

  David and Beau’s mom stared at Shayna openmouthed, and then quickly recovered.

  “Do volunteers work there?” Shayna asked, an idea beginning to percolate.

  “We exist because of volunteers.” This came from his mother. “Yes, I think you should visit. It’s always a good idea to see firsthand the work we do.”

  “Let’s set a date then. How about Monday? We’ll substitute that for your normal therapy session.”

  Victoria placed a hand on Beau’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “My son was put on this earth for a purpose. Ed and I knew it the moment we laid eyes on him. That’s why we wanted him so badly.”

  Beau grunted. Shayna was probably exercising every ounce of restraint not to ask his mother to explain. Her brain must be going a mile a minute. Shayna was a bright woman. It shouldn’t take her long to put two and two together, unless of course she thought he was the product of a mixed marriage.

  Shayna looked at them with interest. Speculatively. Curiously. She seemed to be about to ask a question and then changed her mind.

  “Monday, then?”

  “Monday it is.”

  Chapter Nine

  “How’s your stewed duck?” Colin Johnson asked. His own veal and pasta dish sat in front of him untouched.

  “It’s absolutely delicious. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “You’re very welcome. I knew you would enjoy the food. The ambience isn’t too bad either.”

  The congesti
on in the LoDo area had been annoying on a Saturday night. They’d attempted to brave the traffic and after a while, frustrated, Colin had gotten out his phone and canceled their original reservation. He’d then called the Barola Grill, where they’d been lucky enough to get a table. Now he was seated across from Shayna.

  The Sixth Avenue eatery was often referred to as a chi-chi farmhouse because of its upscale countrified look. Arrangements of dried flowers filled every available urn and wicker basket. Hand-painted porcelain pieces adorned the nooks and crannies. Whereas other establishments strived to impress with opulence, the Barola catered to romance: those on a first date or about to pop the question.

  Around her, several couples sat engrossed in conversation or staring into each other’s eyes. Shayna thought a violin player would pop out at any moment crooning syrupy love songs. She hoped not. She did not want Colin to get the wrong idea. She just wanted to enjoy the evening and this incredibly pretty restaurant with its truly wonderful cuisine.

  “Do we have any witnesses?” Shayna asked, trying to keep the conversation strictly business.

  Colin, who’d been about to spear his veal, laid down his knife and fork and flicked an imaginary crumb off his monogrammed cuffs. He regarded her intently. Shayna was conscious that they were under a microscope and that several women stared at him. In a city where relaxed western chic prevailed, Colin Johnson, in his starched white shirt and business suit, stood out.

  “Our PI found an eyewitness who saw the boys gassing up when Mrs. Simpkins claimed they were in her house.”

  Shayna sucked on her bottom lip. Good news for once! As it got closer to the hearing she’d become increasingly more nervous. What would she do if Reggie was incarcerated? Her parents had trusted her to watch over him. She knew Reggie well enough to know he would do something stupid soon. He was getting more and more antsy as each day went by.

  “Tell me a little about the opposing attorney?” Shayna asked.

  Colin sipped on his red wine and eyed her over the rim of his glass. “I’m not sure what there is to tell. I’ve known Ed Anderson for years. He has a reputation for winning tough cases. I just happen to think I’m better.”

  Shayna smiled at his arrogance, clinking her wineglass against his. “Hey, that’s why we hired you. You did say Anderson had children. One of his sons was a problem child?”

  “That would be Beau. He’s since turned himself around and is quite the big name. You’ve heard of Beaumont Hill, the skier? The guy who took a pretty bad fall at the Olympics. We were so sure he would win a gold medal.”

  Shayna almost choked on her own wine. “Beau—uh—Hill,” she stammered, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, while trying to regain her composure. “Beau Hill is Edward Anderson’s son?”

  Colin shoved her glass of water at her. “Easy now. Yes, he is.”

  Shayna did a quick recovery. Her lungs still felt compressed and her breathing constricted. “Beau’s a patient of mine. How could he and Ed Anderson be related? They look nothing alike.”

  “Ed adopted him. He raised Beau as his own.” Colin’s cognac eyes twinkled. He leaned across the table and looked directly at Shayna. She refused to believe he was flirting. “How come you’ve never mentioned you were Beau’s therapist? Is he my competition?”

  Shayna ignored the latter part of the question. “I’m not in the habit of discussing my patients,” she said. Her mind raced a mile a minute. Beau related to Edward Anderson. Ed Anderson’s son.

  Colin’s fingers circled the stem of his wineglass. He continued to stare at her. “It would be difficult to work with the son of a man determined to put your brother behind bars.”

  “I’d never let my personal feelings get in the way,” Shayna got out. She was much too professional for that, but still.

  A hundred thoughts milled around in her head. Beau had been adopted by the man out to get her brother. She struggled with the dilemma of turning him over to another therapist. It was the right thing to do. But she hated backing off from a challenge. Maybe she could make this work to her advantage after all. This could well be her opportunity to assure her brother a viable future.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to have another therapist work with Beau?” Colin asked, echoing her initial thoughts.

  “I can handle this,” Shayna answered, more haughtily than she intended.

  “You’re human,” Colin countered, covering her hand with his. “It’s natural to feel resentment. Beau’s father is convinced your brother’s a criminal.”

  Reggie was no criminal. Stubborn at times, prone to poor judgment, but a criminal, no. It would kill her if Reggie was put away for a crime he didn’t commit. Worse, it would kill Reggie.

  Blinking back tears, Shayna said, “You wouldn’t let Reggie go to jail. Would you?”

  “Not if I can help it. I’m a damn good lawyer and I believe in your brother’s innocence. I’m also attracted to you.”

  With that Colin picked up his knife and fork and began attacking his veal. Shayna nibbled on her duck, discovering she no longer had an appetite. She used her napkin to wipe her mouth and then rearranged the cutlery. How did her life all of a sudden get so complicated?

  “Do you know why the Andersons adopted Beau?” Shayna asked, scrambling for something to say. “Most white families want kids who look like them. They could have picked any kid.”

  “I can only tell you what I heard. Beau was ten years old when the Andersons adopted him. He’d been living in a bunch of foster homes. Edward Anderson had handled his parents’ estate as a favor. He took an interest in the boy. His parents had been big-name athletes themselves, and had lived a pretty wild life.”

  “Beau’s real parents are dead then?” she asked, suddenly fascinated by the story. Everything to do with Beau had begun to fascinate her lately.

  “Killed in a car accident. Rumor had it they’d been partying. They did a lot of that.”

  “Sounds like the poor guy’s had more than his share of hard knocks.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for him. He’s a pampered, rich athlete. Can we talk about something else, like you and me?”

  Here it came again. Shayna was so astonished by the resentment in Colin’s voice, she simply gaped at him.

  “Come on, Shayna, I told you I was interested in you.”

  What did she say to that? She’d had no idea of Colin’s interest until he invited her to dinner. She’d justified the invitation as his needing to talk to her about Reggie’s case. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she felt no love connection here. She’d gone out with him because it had been a long time between dates. The fact that he was articulate, kind, and good looking was a bonus.

  “You hid your interest pretty well,” Shayna said, chuckling softly, figuring she would handle his flirting by keeping things light. This way everyone saved face.

  “We were usually discussing Reggie,” Colin reminded her. “You were this no-nonsense, focused, businesswoman. I was intrigued and wanted to get to know you better.”

  “And now you have. Why are you interested?”

  “Because I like what I’ve come to know. I remember seeing you on television years ago. God, you were a joy to watch on those parallel bars. My entire family rooted for you. We all thought you were going to win a medal. When you got hurt, we said, she’ll be back next Olympics, and then you weren’t. Having you retain me is karma. You’ve been my fantasy for so long.”

  Shayna gulped her wine. This was too heavy duty for her. She didn’t want to be any man’s obsession. She was surprised Colin knew about her past. He’d never mentioned it before. Time to switch the conversation back to Beau.

  “When I take on a patient, I like to find out what makes him tick,” Shayna said. “I’ve been reading up on Beau and his accident. Everything seems to point to sabotage. Did anyone investigate the accident or question the competition?”

  “I don’t know. What’s more I don’t want to talk about Beau Hill. I’d rather talk about you and me.”
/>
  “Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about us right now,” Shayna added evasively. “Let’s get through the trial first. Things will only get more complicated if you and I start dating.

  Emotions tend to get in the way.”

  Boy, did she know that. Emotions were already clouding her good judgment when it came to Beau.

  “Shayna, are you putting me off?” Colin said, not backing off. “We’re two levelheaded people. To use your own words, we’re professionals.”

  Thankfully, their server interrupted. “Can I get you anything else? Wine perhaps?” She pointed to the empty wine bottle.

  “More wine would be nice, thank you,” Shayna said before Colin could speak up.

  The waitress departed to get another bottle and Shayna turned her attention back to Colin. “You’re accomplished, smart, have a great reputation as a lawyer. Where did you go to school?”

  He changed the topic and she listened as he went on about himself. It would be a long night she sensed, and Colin wasn’t exactly boring. But all she could think about was Beau.

  * * *

  Chandra laid butt naked in bed contemplating her hot-pink toenails. She’d spent the entire afternoon at the salon, getting a massage, an invigorating sauna, then having her hair and nails done.

  In another hour, Franco would be sending a limo to pick her up. They’d been invited to a party on a friend’s yacht. It wasn’t any old party either. She was to be introduced to Carlo Mancini, the famous movie producer. This type of soiree deserved a new dress and Franco had bought her one, costing mucho euros. He’d been buying her expensive baubles, explaining that Bellissima wanted to keep its most beautiful spokesperson happy.

  The dress was purposely cut low, exposing more than ample cleavage. But a girl needed every advantage she could get. A movie contract might be hers for the taking.

  She wanted to follow the path of the other big names: Halle, Charlize, Cameron and now Brooklyn Decker. She’d show the world she wasn’t just the flavor of the season. Franco could help her go places. He wasn’t the lover Beau had been but he was teachable and could be trained. If she married him it would be an incredible coup. Chandra Leon, African-American beauty, capturing Italy’s most eligible bachelor. Let the naysayers thumb their noses at her then.

 

‹ Prev