by Tina Martin
“Ugh.” Her eyes rolled a half circle. “You’re impossible. This is precisely why I didn’t want you as a client. You play too much.”
“Hey, just because you don’t appreciate my sense of humor doesn’t mean someone else won’t. Keep an open mind. It’s all about perspective.” He took out his wallet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.
“What are you doing?”
He placed the money on the table. “I’m paying for our meal.”
“I got it covered,” she told him, pushing the money back toward him.
He laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I got it covered. You are a potential client and this was a business dinner.”
“Just because you called me Mr. St. Claire doesn’t make this a business dinner. We’re friends, Felicity.”
“Friends who are doing business together.”
“Okay, then I don’t care what it was. I got it,” he said, pushing the money back toward the center of the table. “Put your purse down. I don’t believe in a woman taking care of any bills, especially mine.”
“Okay. Fine.” Felicity stood up.
His eyes traveled from her head to her feet then back up again. “You’re so much shorter without your stilts.”
“Bye, Mr. St. Claire.”
He chuckled. “Friday. Two o’clock.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mumbled as she walked away from him.
“You’re welcome for dinner, by the way,” he said loud enough for her to hear him, then watched as she passed through the exit.
On the drive to her apartment right up the street on Fairview Road, she replayed her interview with him. He definitely knew how to work her nerves, almost as if he’d studied it. She knew before she arrived at the restaurant that taking on him as a client would be more of a workload than she was willing to handle. After dinner, she was convinced – she couldn’t possibly add him to her current client roster. She couldn’t handle him as a man. She was attracted to him, was too close to him and if something went wrong, it could potentially have a negative effect on the dynamic of her friendship with Gianna. She couldn’t have that. There was enough chaos in her life to go looking for more trouble. Now, she had to find a way to break the news to him.
Chapter 6
Regal stepped into Romulus’ office at 9:15 Wednesday morning. Romulus had said he wanted to talk to him about something and on the drive to the office, he was curious about what he wanted to discuss. “Hey. What’s up, Rom?”
“A lot these days,” Romulus responded. “This whole land battle is much worse than we had originally thought.”
“I heard,” Regal said, taking a seat. “Ramsey updated me since I missed the status meeting on Monday.”
Romulus was typing something then he gave his brother his full attention. “Ramsey is willing to ride this all the way to court no matter how long the process will take, but I’m thinking more of a rational solution. Besides—what good will a three, maybe even four-year legal battle do for the community? It’s counterproductive. If our goal is to provide affordable housing, we can do that in alternative ways.”
“You sound like you have a plan.”
“I do. What if instead of building out, we build up? I’m talking a six-story apartment building with the bottom four floors being two-bedroom units while the top two are one-bedroom units. I know you’re working on a three-level drawing, and I think you should proceed with that, but is there any way you can also do a six-floor drawing as an alternative?”
“Did you run this by Ramsey?” Regal asked. Romulus must’ve been on some real good ooh-wee if he thought Ramsey would go for this.
“Of course not. You’re a bit more rational—thought I’d bring it to you first.”
“I appreciate that, Rom, but this is Ramsey’s company.”
“Yeah, and you’re a senior architect. You have just as much say-so with these kinds of projects as he does.”
“I can give him input, yes, but he’s the only one who can sign off on something this major. You know that.”
“I’m aware, yes, which is why what I’m asking you to do is an additional drawing. I’m not asking you to scrap the old one that Ramsey has already approved. I’m asking you to do a new one.”
“Behind Ramsey’s back?” Regal sighed and shook his head. “You want me to spend hours upon hours on a drawing that may never see the light of day.”
“Sounds like a waste of time when you put it like that, but yes.”
Regal huffed a breath of frustration. “No, it doesn’t sound like a waste of time. It is a waste of time. I’m going to have to pass on this one, bruh.”
“Come on, Regal. It’s the only viable backup plan we have at the moment.”
“Did Royal confirm that? This is his area of expertise. He’s the one who should be racking his brain for solutions on this—not you. You did your part—you found the land. Now let Royal make sure we get it.”
“It’s uncanny how much you sound like Ramsey right now. Wow!”
“It’s the order of things around here.”
“And we all know you do everything by the book right?” Romulus quipped.
“Come on, Rom. Man, you know it’ll take weeks for me to do a drawing of that magnitude, not to mention all the constant revisions. I don’t like spending my time on something that’s not a sure thing.”
“Then, just this once, I’m asking you to take a gamble.”
Regal sighed heavily. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I should’ve known you called me in here for some bull.”
“Ay, it won’t be bull if it works.”
Regal stood up. Stretched. “That’s a given.”
* * *
Regal returned to his office where he decided to do some research on Wedded Bliss. He looked up the website then read the ‘About Us’ but the information provided didn’t really tell him anything about her. About Felicity. Like, what would give a single woman the drive to run a business where she set people up and watched them fall in love but never have that kind of happiness for herself?
During their business meeting yesterday, he found out some things about her. Her parents were divorced. She was estranged from both of them. Was she an only child? How did her non-relationship with her parents make her really feel? These unknowns excited him yet frustrated him at the same time. He’d never given so much time and thought into a woman, but with Felicity, he wanted to know everything and taking it slow was bothering him. And now he had absolutely no reason to contact her for two days – two whole flippin’ days. He already determined that if she didn’t contact him Friday by two o’clock like she said she would, he’d definitely be in contact with her. That gave him an idea to send her a reminder email:
To: Felicity James
From: Regal St. Claire
Subject: Mornin’
Hey. I hope you’re doing well this morning. Just thought I’d send you a friendly reminder about Friday.
Good luck,
Regal St. Claire
Senior Architect | St. Claire Architects
___________
Chapter 7
Felicity sat at a table inside of The Tavern at South Park when she saw Regal’s email on her phone. She didn’t know what he meant by good luck, but she was already leaning toward not accepting him as a client. And she was too nervous to respond to him at the moment. She was waiting for Mr. McConnell to arrive. He had information about her daughter which she thought was amazing since she’d hired him less than a week ago. This was her focus. Not Regal. Not Wedded Bliss. Her daughter. Her life was too complicated for the dynamic Regal would bring into it. She didn’t have the time to play games with him – not when she needed to concentrate her energy on finding her daughter.
“Ms. James, how are you?” Donald said. He touched her shoulder.
“Oh. Hi, Mr. McConnell,” she said. She’d been so engrossed in her th
oughts that she didn’t see him approach her table.
He pulled out a chair and sat down with a single manila folder.
“I’m just going to sip on this water,” Felicity said. “I’m too nervous to eat.”
“Are you sure? It’s on me.”
“I’m positive, but thanks for the offer.” She watched as he opened the folder. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of loose khakis – same as when he made the surprise visit to her office. Was it a uniform? She couldn’t be sure, but the guy was creepy looking. He had large, puffy marshmallow bags beneath his eyes and sun damaged tanned skin. And where were the man’s lips? His mouth was little – like it had never grown from his boyish years. His teeth were stained, and he looked like one of those guys who could use some hair implants but chose the side, cool whip swoop look to cover the balding instead of investing in hair restoration.
“Okay, then we’ll get right down to it.” He opened the folder. “My research shows that your precious little girl is somewhere in Charlotte.”
Felicity’s eyes brightened with hope. “Are you sure?”
“I am,” he said scanning through his notes.
“But how? How can you be so certain when I haven’t given you anything concrete to go on?”
The man gave a half smile. “I have my ways. For one, I started with the hospital records.”
“I thought that information was sealed?”
“Again, I have my resources. Now, if I recall correctly, you didn’t choose an adoptive family while you were pregnant. Is that correct?”
“Yes. That’s correct. With what I know now, I wish I would have but it’s too late for that. Let me ask you this—is it possible that she could have ended up in the foster care system?”
“Anything’s possible, but from my experience, babies usually get adopted before older kids, so I’m leaning more towards adoption at this point. Now, let me warn you—it’s going to be tricky to get my hands on that information but not impossible. I just need to confirm some things with you first. Are you certain of her birthdate?”
“I am. Yes. Of course,” Felicity answered, “And my name is on the birth certificate.”
“What about her father? Is his name on the birth certificate?”
“No.”
“Is the father still in the picture?”
Felicity frowned. “How is that relevant?”
“Any tidbit of information can be useful for me, darlin’.”
When a waitress came by the table, Donald decided he wasn’t going to eat. He just ordered a Coke. Then he returned his attention back to Felicity and said, “Tell me something—what happened between you and the father?”
Felicity thought the question was way out of line. “Mr. McConnell—”
“Please, call me Donald.”
Her initial assessment of Donald had his age to be his early fifties – yet he preferred to be called by his first name? Something bothered her about that. In business, people were at least supposed to be formal or did he not consider private investigative work a professional career?
“Okay, Donald, I hired you to find my daughter. You don’t need to know everything about me to do that.”
“You are correct, and I’m sorry if it’s coming off the wrong way, but it helps me relate more to my clients when I know a little background about them but only to your comfort level.”
Comfort level…there was nothing comforting about dredging up the past, especially when that past contained Demontae. “Okay. Fine. I was with a guy named Demontae and he left me when he found out I was pregnant. I didn’t feel like I was ready to take care of a child on my own, so I gave her up. There’s really nothing more to tell.”
“Tell me something—you and this Demontae fella—did you reconcile at any point?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve had cases before where the woman only wanted to find the baby because she reconciled with the father and wanted to be a big, happy family again.”
“I can assure you—that’s not the case with me. Even if my ex wanted to reconcile, it wouldn’t happen.”
He chuckled gruffly. “I heard that, and quite honestly, he must have a few screws loose if he left a woman like you. I tell ya…”
Felicity nearly rolled her eyes.
“Is there any man in the picture currently?”
“And why would you need to know that?”
“Just curious. When I was at your office on Monday, I saw you walking out with a tall, black guy.”
“Oh.” She knew he was referring to Regal. “He’s a potential client.”
“Right. You’re a matchmaker.”
“Yes. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. How soon would you know if my daughter was adopted or in foster care?”
He took a long sip of Coke. “It’s hard to say, but I’m working around the clock on this. Believe me.”
“Good,” she said, satisfied with that assurance though she thought he was a little creepy at times. She glanced at her watch and stood up. “I appreciate you taking the time to give me an update.”
“You’re welcome, Felicity.”
Felicity flashed a smile then walked away from the table and out of the door. When she got in the car, she called Zandra.
“Hey, Boss Lady,” Zandra answered.
“Zan, hi. Look—I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“At two o’clock, I need you to call Regal St. Claire and let him know that we cannot take him as a client at this time. His file is on my desk. You should find his number in there somewhere.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your weekend.”
“You as well.” Felicity started the car and was on her way to her next appointment – the spa. She had arranged for a manicure, pedicure, facial and massage after a long work week. Plus, having to deal with the additional stress of beginning the search for her daughter was starting to take a toll on her. She deserved to relax for a while and that’s what she’d indulge in for the next three hours.
Chapter 8
Regal enjoyed his job and the talent and creativity he had the opportunity to bring all around Charlotte with his architectural designs. He took pride in his work and the design he was working on was coming together nicely. Today, he was in super high spirits anticipating a single communication that had the potential to change the rest of his life – a call from Felicity James.
There was no way she wouldn’t accept him as a client. He was the perfect client and during their dinner meeting Tuesday night, they had several moments of compatibility. When they parted ways, he could still see her face, those pretty eyes and small, yet full lips that forced him to lick his lips every time he saw her. That one kiss he managed to sneak from her had worn off. He needed seconds.
He glanced at the clock. The time was ten minutes ‘til two. Would she call right on the hour? Probably so since she was so by-the-book about everything.
Unable to focus on work any longer, he stood up and walked away from his desk. He could actually feel himself become anxious – so different from his normal self. Under any other circumstances, he was calm and composed. With matters concerning Felicity, all that was out the window.
When his cell phone rang, he took his hands out of his pocket and hurried to his desk. Before he picked up the phone, he already saw Wedded Bliss on the display. He answered, “So, when do we start, Ms. James?”
“Um…hi, is this Mr. St. Claire?”
A frown disturbed his features when he realized this wasn’t Felicity’s voice. This was her assistant, Zandra.
“Yes, this is Regal St. Claire. Put me through to Felicity please.”
“Felicity is out of the office for the rest of the day. She wanted me to let you know that, unfortunately, Wedded Bliss won’t be able to take you on as a client at this time.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, Mr
. St. Claire. Perhaps Felicity can give you a better explanation but this is all she told me to pass along to you.”
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks for calling,” he said angrily before hanging up the phone.
He sat down, not feeling defeated because whatever he wanted in life he plotted and worked his butt off until he got it. It would be no different with Felicity. He wanted her – wanted her bad – but she wasn’t willing to play along. That only meant it was time for him to turn up the heat. Step up his game. Show her who she was dealing with.
“Hey, man. Are you wrapping up?” Ramsey asked, stepping into Regal’s office.
Regal looked at him and said, “Yeah. I would’ve left already, but I was waiting on a phone call.”
“From Felicity?”
He nodded. “She got her assistant to call me instead—said she couldn’t take me on as a client right now.”
“Okay, so what’s plan B?”
“There is no plan B. Plan A is all there is and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Be easy, Regal. You don’t want to run her away.”
Regal chuckled. “If you didn’t run Gianna away, there is no way I’m anywhere close to running Felicity off. I don’t get it though. I met with her to discuss my qualifications and I felt like we had a good time. We were laughing. The vibes were right. Still, she doesn’t accept me as a client. What gives?”
“Maybe she does have a full workload at the moment, man. I heard her telling Gianna the other night how slammed she was. And what do you mean if I didn’t run Gianna away? I was forthcoming with Gianna, but I wasn’t pressuring her – at least not in the beginning. I was just trying to be there for her in every way I knew how. You should probably take that same approach with Felicity.”
“See, the problem with that is, Ms. Independent doesn’t need anything.”
“That’s what you think. Everybody needs something. You just need to figure out what that something is in her case.”
