by Donna Hill
* * *
Layla spent the better part of the morning shopping for supplies for the suite. Her car’s trunk was loaded and it took several trips back and forth to unload and get everything inside the suite. She’d purchased plants, artwork, oils, lotions, CDs, mats, small bowls, oil burners, hand sanitizers, disinfectant, cases of fruit juice and water, and soft lightbulbs. She’d placed an order for a dozen terry-cloth robes and shower slippers. The boutique where she’d made her purchases promised that her items would be delivered within the next two days.
She spent the next couple of hours organizing her supplies and rolling towels to be stacked. She hung pictures and poured the aromatic oils into the burners. Aromatherapy was just as important in creating the perfect atmosphere as the treatments.
Layla took a look around and was finally satisfied with what she’d accomplished. She took some pictures of the space for the flyers, then locked up and walked back to the main building in search of Desiree.
“It looks fabulous,” Desiree said when she saw the pictures. “Let me download them to my computer.”
Layla touched a few icons on her iPad and sent the images to Desiree.
Within moments Desiree was loading them into her graphics program. “You’ve been busy,” she said while she worked.
Layla laughed. “To keep my mind off other things.”
Desiree looked up at her friend for a moment. “Other things like what? Don’t tell me New York.”
Layla sat on the edge of Desiree’s desk and folded her arms. “No. Not New York.” She leaned closer. “Do you know that guy...with the limp?”
Desiree frowned in concentration. “Limp?”
“Yes and gorgeous.”
Desiree grinned. “Oh, Maurice Lawson.”
“Him.”
Desiree crossed her legs. Her right brow rose with her question. “What about him?”
“What do you know about him?”
“Hmm, not much. He checked in about three days ago. Booked his cottage for six weeks. That’s about it really. I see him around from time to time.” A slow smile moved across her mouth. “And you want to know all this because...”
Layla blew out a breath. “I wish I knew. Well, maybe I do know. It’s hard to explain. I mean, I only saw him for a minute a couple of times...but...” She looked away as if searching for the answers somewhere in the corners of the room. Finally, she shrugged. “No big deal. Forget it. He looked like he’d rather be alone.”
Desiree stared at Layla’s profile. “Hey, this is the twenty-first century, girl. If a woman is interested in a man, she doesn’t have to stand on protocol and wait for the man to make the first move anymore.”
Layla slowly shook her head. “That is so not me. In my head, I’m bold and aggressive. But then reality sets in.”
Desiree reached out and touched Layla’s hand. “Bold and not standing on protocol is you. Brent screwed up a perfectly good relationship. But you can’t let what he did diminish you. Every man is not like Brent.”
Layla hopped down off the desk. “I know that. I’m over Brent.”
“Are you? Really? I’m not saying that you still have feelings for him, but I am saying that what he did messed with your confidence, challenged your womanhood.”
Layla snapped her head away. She tightened her arms around her waist. The words to refute Desiree’s assertion were on her lips. They lingered on her tongue. She couldn’t say them. What Desiree said was true. It was painfully true. It had been a year since she’d come home to have him tell her that he was leaving, that he no longer loved her. But there wasn’t a day that had gone by when she didn’t remember how small and insignificant she’d felt. How could he so easily stop loving her? It wasn’t until months later that she found out why.
She’d gone over that night a million times. In some versions she threw a lamp at Brent and then dumped all of his clothes out of the window. In another he came running after her, begging her to forgive him. But in all the versions, in the end, she was alone. Probably what stung the most was that she’d heard from their mutual acquaintances that Brent and Grace—his assistant, the woman he’d stopped loving her for—were still together and there was talk of them getting married the following spring.
There was no way that she could get around the feeling that it was something she’d done or didn’t do or that she wasn’t appealing enough. Something. The feeling of inadequacy was not as bad as it had been, but it hovered and sat on her shoulder, waiting patiently to whisper in her ear.
“I remember the Layla Brooks that would walk into a minefield with high heels and a smile on her face, who could step into a room and every head would turn, who could have a conversation with the secretary of state as easily as the woman who owns the dry cleaner on the corner. That’s the Layla that I know.”
Layla lowered her head for a moment. Had she really changed that much? She looked at Desiree. “So I should just walk up to him and what?”
“Hand him one of your flyers for starters,” she said, pressing the print button on the computer. Moments later a color-printed flyer announcing the new massage therapy services slid out of the printer. Desiree lifted it from the tray and handed it to Layla with a “now what’s your excuse” look on her face.
Layla tilted her head slightly to the left and eyed the flyer. “Not bad. I’ll see what I can do with it,” she said with a lift of her chin before turning away and waving goodbye on her way out.
Mistletoe, Baby
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Her farewell party was in full swing. The kisses and hugs had been given, the toasts made and the tears shed. Now it was on to the business of drinking and eating—in that order. Her staff had managed to commandeer the very dignified presidential conference suite and transform it into an “after five” lounge that was complete with bartenders, waiters and a DJ.
Even as she looked around at the people that she’d considered family for the past five years and knew that she would miss them dearly, there was an undeniable bubble of excitement that wanted the day to be over, her bags packed and the jet taking off from Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport en route to New York City. Atlanta was a great place. It was her home. She’d built a stellar career in academia rising up in the ranks at Atlanta College to her current position as Dean of Academic Affairs, but as the old saying went: “Always leave them wanting more.”
She was at the top of her game. The name Alexis Montgomery was always spoken of in the highest regard. Word had gotten around that she excelled at what she did and she’d been made an offer that she couldn’t refuse.
During the past six months she’d been flown out to New York to meet with the board of directors at R.E.A.L., toured their Midtown Manhattan office and talked terms. After weeks of negotiation, she’d signed off on her five-year contract.
Alexis brought the glass of champagne to her lips and smiled at the throng of faces. She’d left the college in better shape than when she’d stepped in. She had much to be proud of and she had every intention of making her mark in New York the same way she’d done it in Atlanta. A thrill of anticipation coursed through her. In a little more than a week, her new life would begin. Look out, New York—this Southern belle is on her way.
“You realize there’s really no one to fill those high heels of yours,” came a rugged whisper in her ear.
Alexis casually angled her head to the right. A secret smile moved across her mouth and a light of something more than “we’re only colleagues” lit the dark embers of her brown eyes. “I’m sure you only mean that in the most professional sense.” The corner of her mouth flickered in a barely there grin.
“If you say so.” He lifted his ch
in in the direction of her almost-empty glass. “Refill?”
She shrugged her bare shoulder. “Sure. It’s my party, right?”
“Be right back.”
Alexis watched him walk away and smiled to herself as several of her female colleagues scoped him out, as well. Ian Matthews was without a doubt a very eligible bachelor. He was the whole package: six feet plus, well built, with a walk like Denzel, a mind like Einstein, sweet milk chocolate all over, funny, well-endowed and an expert at using his “equipment,” a tenured professor, chair of his department, and actually an all-around decent guy to boot. They’d been discreetly seeing each other off and on for nearly a year. But something kept Alexis from committing, although Ian said that he wanted to. She honestly cared about him. She was close to being addicted to the crazy sex that they had, but something was missing.
That missing something was the thing that had allowed her to sign on the dotted line. With her mother’s passing, her best friend Naomi Clarke all happily married and relocated to Virginia, and that spark she was looking for in a relationship still out of reach, there was nothing more to keep her in Atlanta.
Ian returned with her drink. “Thank you.”
Ian’s voice rose above the hum of conversation. “Can I have everyone’s attention for a moment?”
By degrees the room quieted and the guests all turned in his direction.
“What are you doing?” Alexis whispered through clenched teeth that doubled as a smile.
He gave her a long, stirring look and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Her face heated.
“I want to make a toast to the most brilliant, beautiful, decent woman that I know. Her departure is going to leave a big gap here at Atlanta College and a bigger one in my heart.” He pressed his hand dramatically on his chest.
There was a collective gasp of wide-eyed surprise for some and a “knew it all along” expression on the faces of a few.
Ian turned to her with a smile that could steal her heart if she let it. For a moment she doubted her decision. He raised his glass and the rest of the guests did the same. “To Alexis. Wishing you much success and happiness, and here’s hoping that you take a big bite out of the Big Apple. Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
Alexis mouthed her thank-yous and sipped from her glass.
“I meant what I said.”
Alexis gazed up at him. “Ian...”
They were mere inches apart. Their voices were low and intimate.
“No need to take it any further. I wanted you to know that what I feel for you isn’t only in the bedroom.” He grinned. “I’m not going to lie and tell you I’ll wait, but I will say that I’m not in a hurry to look.”
She pushed out a breath. “You are determined not to make this easy for me.”
“When has anything between us been easy?”
She lifted her glass. “Touché.”
* * *
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for your send-off.”
Alexis adjusted the phone between her ear and shoulder while she put the last few items in her suitcase. “Naomi, the last place I expected you to be was at my going-away party.”
“I know, but still. You came to see me last week.”
“That’s different. You just had a baby last week. And I had to see my brand-new goddaughter before I left and make sure my bestie was all right.”
“I’m exhausted and achy, but every time I look at April my heart swells. I still can’t believe that she’s here and she’s mine and Brice’s.”
Alexis listened to the awe and joy in her friend’s voice. She was happy for Naomi and Brice. The two friends still laughed about how Naomi and Brice had met in Antigua—the trip that Alexis was supposed to go on with her and didn’t—with Naomi pretending to be someone else the entire time, only for Brice to wind up in Naomi’s classroom when she returned to her real life as a professor at Atlanta College. Ever since Naomi had married Brice and moved away, and continued to regale her with the wonders of marriage and now motherhood, she found herself wondering if she would ever find that kind of happiness, that all-consuming love that lit up a room. Every now and again, she thought it might be Ian, but that spark never quite reached that level of intensity.
On the other hand, there was never a shortage of men in Alexis’s life. If anything there was always a surplus with one in the wings. Things had slowed down when Ian moved into the picture. But...
“You call me when you get to New York,” Naomi was saying.
Alexis blinked back to the moment. “Of course. As soon as I touch down. Not sure when I’m going to get back to see you and my goddaughter.”
“Don’t worry about us. You just go to New York and kick ass.”
Alexis chuckled. “I plan to. Listen, give my baby a kiss and one for Brice, too.”
“Gonna miss you, girl.”
“Same here. But that’s why we have planes and Skype and FaceTime.”
They laughed. “True.”
Alexis could hear the baby crying in the background. “Go take care of April. I’ll call you.”
“Safe travels, sis.”
“Thanks.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Alexis hung up the phone with a soft sigh. She looked around her bedroom. She’d had some pretty happy times in here, she mused wryly. She zipped up her last suitcase just as a car horn honked out front.
She walked to the window facing the street and pulled the curtain aside. Her cab was out front. Thankfully, she’d shipped the majority of her belongings a week ago, leaving her with only one suitcase, her carry-on and her purse. She checked to make sure she had her ID, credit cards, cell phone and laptop. She took one last look around, turned off the lights, grabbed her bags and left her old life behind.
Chapter 2
Alexis had to give props to R.E.A.L. The organization—Realize Excellence Achievement Leadership—had arranged to have her furniture and clothing moved, they’d found her an apartment in New York, and they’d gotten her a first-class ticket. She could easily get used to this kind of treatment.
The moment she stepped off the airplane and into the JFK terminal, she could feel the energy that always seemed to hum beneath the surface in New York. It was hard to explain to anyone who had not experienced it, but it was similar to turning up the volume on your life, or walking into a dark room and someone flipping on the bright lights.
She rode along with the other arriving passengers on the Down escalator to the baggage claim area. As soon as she stepped off the escalator, she was stunned to see a navy-blue-suited young man holding up a sign with her name on it. She grinned. R.E.A.L. was pulling out all the stops. She was totally impressed.
She walked up to the driver. “Hi, I’m Alexis Montgomery.”
“Ms. Montgomery.” He gave a short nod. “Michael. I’m your driver. I’ll help you with your bags and then I’ll go and get the car.”
“Great. Hopefully it won’t take too long.” She headed in the direction of carousel three with Michael at her side.
“How was your flight?”
“Very nice, thanks to a first-class ticket. The organization treats its employees very well.”
They stopped in front of the carousel that had already begun to fill with luggage.
“Yes, it does.”
Shortly her bags came around on the belt. Michael took them and walked to the exit. “If you wouldn’t mind waiting a moment, I’ll bring the car.”
“I can walk with you to the car.”
“No worries. I’ll be right back.”
She inwardly shrugged. Fine with me. She walked over to a nearby bench, sat down and watched arriving travelers run into the arms of waiting loved ones. She experienced a momentary twinge of
melancholy, knowing there were no open arms to greet her, just a furnished apartment in an unfamiliar city. She sniffed, opened her purse in search of her cigarettes, and then remembered that she’d recently quit and suddenly wished that she hadn’t and took out a stick of gum instead. She glanced around, took in the sights and sounds. Although it was early May, it was a balmy seventy-five degrees. Almost like home, she thought.
Just then a black Lincoln pulled up in front of her and Michael quickly got out. He reached for her carry-on and opened the passenger door. Alexis slid into the roomy interior and gasped in alarm.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Please. Sit.” Alexis’s pulse raced. She settled herself opposite her surprise guest.
“Graham Stone.” He extended his hand.
Her eyes widened. “Graham Stone, CEO of R.E.A.L.?” Her hand, of its own volition, found its way into his. His long fingers wrapped around her hand and it was as if he’d cut off the oxygen to her brain.
He grinned and even in the dim interior she could see his eyes sparkle. Her stomach fluttered. She pressed her knees together to silence the lady that had jumped up and started to purr.
“Guilty as charged. My flight from London came in just before yours. I told Michael to find you. Much more efficient for him to take the both of us than to have you take a cab in a strange city.”
“I...appreciate that.”
Graham leaned back against the plush leather of the car. His steel-gray suit was in that new slender cut and it clearly outlined the long lean lines of his body. He looked her over in slow motion. “I have to apologize for this impromptu meeting,” he said, and she caught the barely there British accent. “It was unfortunate that I was out of town when you came in to meet with the board last month. And that we couldn’t ‘meet’ on the conference call.”
