by Joy Avery
Yeah, that was it. Because he’d loved and lost too many times to fully trust the emotion. His mother. His grandfather.
“Too late now,” he mumbled. There was nothing he could do about it now. Vivian was embedded in him.
Alonso sighed and checked his watch again. Garth should have been there over an hour ago. It wasn’t like the man to be fashionably late. Maybe he was stuck at one of his job sites. He had several high-rises being constructed. Since their last meeting hadn’t gone so well, he wasn’t sure whether the man would actually show at all.
When he’d told Garth about his plans of altering the original concept of the downtown Raleigh project, Alonso could tell Garth hadn’t been fully supportive of the idea. And though Garth hadn’t outwardly voiced his objections, Alonso had seen the disdain on his face. Plus, Garth’s cold stare had nearly frozen Alonso solid.
Alonso hoped today he’d be able to convince Garth that, though this venture wouldn’t be as financially rewarding as the original plan, it would still net a good profit for him, since money seemed to always persuade him. If not, they’d have to simply part ways gracefully, because there was no changing Alonso’s mind about this. There would be no better way to honor his grandfather and the woman he loved.
He smiled thinking about how stunned Vivian would be when he told her about the new venture. Soon.
“Mr. Wright?”
His assistant’s voice boomed over the speaker.
“Yes, Jessica?”
“The mayor, city manager and Mr. Major from the planning department have all confirmed for next month.”
Alonso pumped his fist into the air. One step closer to completing his puzzle. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“And Mr. Garrison is on his way back to see you.”
Finally. “Great.”
When Garth entered, Alonso could still feel the tension. Plus, Garth didn’t display his usual enthusiasm. Alonso offered his hand. “I thought you’d stood me up.”
“Sorry about that. I had some business to take care of,” Garth said drily.
Alonso directed Garth toward the revised 3-D table model. “Here it is. The new downtown Raleigh project. In place of shops and restaurants, several transition homes to help our brothers and sisters who are trying to get back on their feet.” He pointed across the display. “A youth-slash-community-slash-workforce-skills center, a day care facility and possibly even a clinic.” Establishing the clinic would be the most difficult part.
Garth studied the layout, then nodded as if it didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. Was Alonso finally getting through to the man? Alonso led the way across the room, taking a seat behind his desk. Garth eased down into the chair across from him.
“I have a meeting with city officials next month to pitch the revitalization project and hopefully garner their support.”
Garth’s expression remained emotionless. When he propped his elbows on the arms of the chair, then intertwined his fingers under his chin, Alonso had doubts that he was getting through to the man, after all. Well, if Garth wasn’t interested in moving forward with him, he’d find someone who was.
Alonso decided to try to appeal to him on a compassion level. “This project can change lives here, Garth. Give hope where there has never been much. This project won’t make us rich, but it will enrich our souls. And, hey, that’s—”
“That’s bullshit is what it is. To hell with enriching my soul. Cold, hard cash enriches my soul.” Garth pushed to his feet. “Who the hell are you? The Alonso Wright I know couldn’t give a damn about enriching a soul. Where the hell is that ruthless businessman? That’s the one I want to talk to. The one who is about that money.”
Alonso studied Garth. Was this the same man who’d been big brother to several young men, spearheaded back-to-school supply drives, distributed turkeys to families during the holiday? Obviously this just wasn’t going to work for either of them. “Garth, I understand if you want to back out of this project—”
“Back out? Hell, I was never in it.” He jabbed his finger toward the table. “I never agreed to be a part of that shit. I build skyscrapers. Large damn construction. Not some damn dinky houses and community centers.”
Spittle flew from Garth’s mouth as he spoke. Alonso’s eyes slid to the picture of Vivian. It put him in his calm place. In business, he always preferred to keep his cool. Plus, he didn’t like to burn bridges. Until now, he and Garth had always had a great working relationship.
Garth followed Alonso’s stare. “Oh, I get it now. Obviously you two explored more than business. Was this her idea?”
Vivian had no idea about Alonso’s revised plans. He didn’t plan on telling her until after the meeting with the mayor. But he didn’t reveal any of this to Garth. Mainly because it was none of his damn business. Alonso stood. “We’re done here, Garth.”
“The hell we are.” Garth swept his hand across Alonso’s desk, sending pencils, pens and other items sailing across the room.
Before he’d realized it, Alonso had reached across the desk, snatched Garth by the collar and yanked him forward. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?”
Garth flashed his palms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I lost my cool. It’s been a rough week. I didn’t mean to take my frustration out on you. We’re cool.”
Slowing, Alonso released his grip, then chastised himself for not having better control. “You need to leave.”
Garth ironed his hand down his ruffled shirt, then gave a starched nod.
Once the man exited, Alonso dropped down into his chair. What in the hell had just happened? After a minute or so of tossing the question around in his head and finding no logical explanation for Garth’s behavior, he tidied his office, then decided he needed some fresh air.
Thirty minutes later, Alonso entered Hamilton’s place. Clearly, he was just in time. The delicious aromas swirling made his stomach growl. If Alonso didn’t know any better, he’d swear Ham had a woman around. The place was spotless.
“What’s wrong with you, youngster? You look like you asked for no mayo and they slathered on double. Ta-hee-hee.”
Alonso massaged the back of his neck. “Rough day at the office.”
“Well, why did you come here? You should have gone to that pretty lady of yours. I’m sure she’s better equipped at helping you work out the kinks. Ta-hee-hee.”
No doubt Vivian would make him feel much better. But there was nothing she could do right now. Especially with her being in Atlanta for a conference. Damn, he couldn’t wait until she returned. “She’s out of town. She’ll be back on Friday.” Three long days to go.
“Lord, I know you’re miserable.”
Alonso chuckled, but didn’t say anything.
“Well, I got something that might help. Now, it’s not as lovely as the warm touch of a woman, but it’ll sho’ put a smile on your face.”
Ham led the way into the kitchen. When they entered the spacious room, Alonso’s mouth fell open. “Uh, Ham? Where’d all this food come from?”
“Well, since I don’t have to spend all day collecting cans, I gotta do something with my time. Been watching this cooking channel. They don’t show a lot of soul food cooking, but some of this stuff ain’t half-bad.”
Alonso scanned the table: desserts, meats, seafood, breads, pastas, sauces and a few things he wasn’t sure how to label. Sobering, he said, “You’re trying to get me killed. And if Vivian finds out you’re eating all of these cakes and pies and breads...you’re a dead man, too.”
A look of alarm spread across Hamilton’s face and Alonso had to bite back a laugh. Vivian had already warned them both about being mindful of what Hamilton consumed, because of his diabetes. She appeared to care about Hamilton’s well-being just as much as Alonso did. Just another reason he had to love her.
And Ham
ilton seemed taken with Vivian, too. Just like that, she’d convinced him to see the dentist and trim his hair. Something Alonso hadn’t been able to do in years.
“You better not tell her,” Hamilton said.
“I gotta tell her, Ham. I’m not good at hiding stuff from her.” Except his feelings. “That woman can read me like a book.” Which probably meant she already knew he was in love with her.
“Snitches get stitches, young blood.”
“Well, if you hadn’t committed the crime—” Alonso swept his hand around the room “—you wouldn’t need an alibi, old man.”
Hamilton burst out laughing. “Ta-hee-hee. Okay, okay. We’ll just wrap up the not-so-good-for-you stuff. That’ll work, right?”
Alonso thought for a moment, then nodded. He could support that. “Ham, this is a lot of food. What are you going to do with what we don’t eat? You’ll never finish all of this by yourself.” Or by the time Vivian got back to town.
“Well, what we don’t eat I’m going to take down to Moore Square and share it. That’ll mean a few won’t have to go hungry or dig through the trash for dinner tonight.” A hint of sadness spread across Hamilton’s face.
To hear those words escape from Hamilton’s mouth broke Alonso’s heart. He hated to imagine Ham ever having to Dumpster dive for food. And if he had, Alonso hoped the man knew he’d never have to again.
Well, this explained the recent increase in Hamilton’s credit card bill.
“Roll up your sleeves and dig in,” Hamilton said.
Alonso didn’t need to be told twice. The two men feasted like kings for the next hour. Turned out Hamilton was a pretty good cook. He could give Mama Tu a real run for her money. When they returned to the living room, Alonso slouched down in the sofa. He was so full he was actually miserable. Loosening his tie, he unfastened the top button of his shirt.
Hamilton sat in his oversize brown leather recliner, the only piece of furniture he’d specifically requested. “Now, don’t you feel better?”
“I feel better, but I ate too much.”
“Ta-hee-hee. Take a nap. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
“I wish I could take a nap, but I need to get back to the office.” He reconsidered the words. “Actually...I don’t. Being the boss has some perks.” He shot a quick message to his assistant informing her he wouldn’t be returning, then stashed his phone back in his pocket, reclined his head and closed his eyes.
“So you say pretty lady won’t be back for a few days.”
Alonso wasn’t sure whether or not Ham actually remembered Vivian’s name, because he always called her pretty lady. It always brought a toothy smile to her face. “Yeah. I can’t wait.”
“You love her.”
Alonso wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. His head rose slowly, and he eyed Hamilton. “Yeah, I do.”
“She’s good for you. And the two of you look good together. You gon’ ask her to marry you?”
Alonso chuckled. “We’re nowhere near that stage yet, Ham.”
“Well, you should. There’s something special about that one. Can’t quite put my finger on it. But special, nonetheless.”
Alonso had to agree with him there. Vivian was something special. And he was crazy about her.
* * *
Vivian smiled when her tablet chimed, indicating an incoming video call. Alonso. She swiped her finger across the screen to make the connection active. When Alonso’s face filled her screen, she grew even more homesick. Odd, because she used to live for this annual nursing convention—meeting new people, discovering innovative equipment. Now all she wanted to do was jump through her device and into Alonso’s arms.
“Hi, handsome.”
“Hey, beautiful. Were you busy?”
“Never too busy for you.”
“How’s San Diego?”
“Not the same without you, but it’s nice. My room overlooks the marina and the San Diego Bay. However, it’s nothing in comparison to the view I had on Infinity Island.”
“I wish I was in San Diego with you.”
“So do I. I—” Vivian paused when there was a tap at her door.
“Is there another man coming to see you, woman? Don’t make me come to San Diego.”
Alonso punctuated his words with a laugh and she joined in.
“It’s probably room service. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be right here.”
Inching off the bed, she made her way to the door.
“Find out who it is before you open the door,” Alonso called out.
“Yes, sir.” The sexy chuckle Alonso released sent a sensation up her spine. “Who is it?” she sang for his amusement.
“Front desk,” the masculine voice called from the opposite side.
Verifying her visitor through the peephole, Vivian eased the door open. A crystal vase crammed with fresh flowers greeted her. “Oh, my goodness.”
“Good evening, Ms. Moore. These are for you. Please allow me to place them. They are quite heavy.”
Judging by the vast amount of stems sprouting from the vase, she was sure it was like carrying lead. She stepped aside and allowed him entry. She scrutinized the arrangement. “Wow. Thank you.”
“You are very welcome.” The young man turned and started away.
“Wait. Tip.”
He flashed his palm. “No need. It has all been taken care of.” A beat later, he disappeared through the door.
Vivian inhaled the fragrant scent wafting from the mix of lilies, roses, calla lilies, hydrangeas and, of course, tulips. Returning to a waiting Alonso, she beamed at him.
“Why do you look so happy?”
“Because I have the best man in the world, and he always knows how to make my day so much brighter.”
“He sounds like a keeper to me.”
“Oh, he’s definitely a keeper. Thank you. I love them.”
“You’re welcome. Just wanted you to know that, despite us being hundreds of miles apart, you are still on my mind.”
“God, I lo—look forward to coming home.” Had she really almost told Alonso she loved him? That would have been bad. Real bad. No, it wouldn’t have been. It would have been the truth, and the truth was supposed to set you free.
But did she really want to tell him over an internet connection? No. Shifting the direction of the conversation, she dragged her finger across the screen as if she could actually feel Alonso’s warm skin under her fingertips. “You look tired. Long day?”
“You can say that.”
“Want to talk about it?”
He scrubbed his hand over his head. “I had to sever ties with an old business associate.”
“Oh, no. I’m sorry.” She came off the bed again and headed toward the balcony, bringing Alonso with her. “I’ll show you something that’ll cheer you up.”
A roguish smile spread across his face. “I’m all eyes.”
“Down, boy. It’s not that type of party.”
“Oh, but it can be.” He winked.
Vivian rotated the view of the camera and panned the marina, the countless boats docked below, the gentle ripple of the water, the twinkle of the lights in the distance. “Beautiful, right?”
“Yes. I feel better already.”
Vivian eased into one of the balcony chairs and changed the direction of the camera so that Alonso was now seeing her again. “I can’t wait to come home. California is nice, but my heart is in North Carolina.” There. She’d partially put her feelings out there. She awaited Alonso’s response.
Alonso rubbed the side of his face as if she’d reached through the screen and slapped him. “Really?”
Really? Was that all he had to say? A tiny voice in her head screamed: You’re an idiot, Vivian
Moore. She had to agree. In an attempt to clean up the statement, she said, “North Carolina is where I spent most of my life, where my best memories are. So, yeah, my heart is definitely there.”
“Yeah, memories are important.”
Man, she wanted to forget the last five minutes of this conversation. Definitely the segment where she’d made a complete fool of herself and practically confessed her love to only get a really.
Okay, maybe she was being a bit melodramatic. She hadn’t exactly confessed anything. And hey, even if Alonso didn’t feel the same way about her as she felt about him, so what? She enjoyed spending time with him. And at this stage of their relationship, did it truly matter whether or not he was in love with her?
Alonso cut into her thoughts and she refocused on their conversation. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you had plans Saturday evening.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I would love to take you on a date.”
Shaking off whatever Alonso’s one-word response meant—or hadn’t meant—she smiled. “I think I’m free.” One thing she couldn’t deny was how much she loved their date nights. They always ended so sinfully deliciously.
“Good.”
Shifting her thoughts and the conversation, she said, “Did you call Hamilton today to make sure he’s checking his blood sugar like I showed him?”
“Um, yeah. Yes. I spent the afternoon with him, actually.”
“That’s great. What did y’all do?”
“Um, we watched a little TV. Ate. Hung out.”
Alonso turned his head and scratched an itch on his neck she was sure wasn’t there. He was hiding something, and she had a good idea it had something to do with Hamilton and junk food. Since he looked stressed enough, she didn’t interrogate him.
“I know you’re probably tired. I’ll let you get some rest. I have several things to take care of before I can get out of here,” he said.
She’d been so consumed with him she hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings. His brown leather office chair came into view. “You’re still in the office? It’s almost eight.”
