by Janice Sims
She knew her mother hated the snow. She hadn’t been able to entice her to try skiing in the four years she had been a part of Mr. Santiago’s youth organization. She didn’t think she would be able to get her mother outside in the snow now.
With her mother left behind, maybe Harry Payne would be enticed to stay and entertain her.
“Sure you can,” Harry said at once. “I’ll go change into my ski gear. You and your mother do the same, and I’ll meet you in the lobby in twenty minutes.”
Danielle’s face fell. “Mom doesn’t ski,” she said regretfully, her gaze resting on her mother who, if Harry wasn’t mistaken, was giving her daughter a warning with her eyes.
A warning her daughter was conveniently ignoring.
“Then I’ll arrange for someone to take you,” Harry suggested, rolling with the punches. “And I’ll give your mother a tour of the rest of the resort while you’re gone.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Danielle said, and gleefully fled into the bedroom to change.
In her absence, Harry said to Cherisse, “She’s really a handful.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Cherisse said with an exaggerated sigh.
Now that they were alone it was as if pretending that last Saturday night had not meant anything to them could be dispensed with.
Cherisse sat on the overstuffed couch and gestured for Harry to sit next to her. “What happened with your girlfriend, Harry? Did you argue over her insensitivity toward your mother?”
Harry remembered that he had told her about Marcia’s opinion that he was tied to his mother’s apron strings. “No, that wasn’t it, although that has something to do with my being able to get over her as well as I am. Do you know LaShaun Gregory? He plays for the Broncos.”
Even though she didn’t follow football, Cherisse lived in Denver and LaShaun Gregory was the darling of the Broncos. His name was splashed across newspapers, television and radio on a daily basis, it seemed.
“I’ve heard of him,” she said, her expression full of concern for Harry.
Harry felt warmed by her sympathy and even more warmed by her nearness. She had the kind of natural beauty that enticed him. Most of the women he knew applied makeup to walk outside to get the morning paper. And she’d come all the way to Vail to meet her daughter’s sponsor with nothing on, that he could see, except red lipstick. That was utterly sexy to him. But then, looking closely, he saw that her black lashes were already full and lush, mascara wouldn’t do them justice, and her skin was healthy and vibrant. What other artificial beauty enhancer did she need?
The fact that she had applied lipstick told him that she was aware that her mouth was one of her best features, she wanted to bring it out, say “look at my mouth, isn’t it something?” And it was.
“Harry?” she said softly.
Harry had been lost in her mouth. He laughed softly. “Oh, yeah, we were talking about Marcia and LaShaun. Apparently they were an item before he strayed and chose the other woman over her. Angered by his infidelity, Marcia vowed to make him pay. So she set her cap for me. She used me to make him jealous and to bring him to his knees.”
Cherisse shook her head. “That’s so cruel.”
Harry sighed. “But it worked like a dream. She says they’re back together now and I should be happy I’m free to play the field.”
Cherisse took his big hand in hers. “You’re a good man, Harry. You’ll meet someone more suited to you, someone who’ll love the fact that you’re so close to your mother. I don’t know how Marcia could have a problem with that. I always thought a man who loved his mother had more respect for other women.”
She loved the feel of his hand in hers. It made her feel safe and secure. In fact, her body was entirely too happy to be sitting this close to Harry Payne. She felt her nipples begin to strain against the fabric of her bra and was glad she was wearing a dark color that would help to conceal her arousal.
She inhaled and exhaled and realized that her heartbeat had picked up its pace. As a nurse she was trained to notice changes in a person’s vital signs and she was well aware that she had no business sitting on a couch holding Harry Payne’s hand.
Harry, for his part, was content to hold her hand all day long if she would let him. She intrigued him and generally threw his libido into overdrive. He wondered how he was going to get around the fact that he was her daughter’s sponsor.
He knew instinctively that Cherisse would see that as a problem when he told her he wanted to date her. Date her? Get serious, Harry, he thought, you want this woman in your arms, preferably naked.
Chapter 6
Harry asked Cory Newman, one of the best ski instructors on staff, to take Danielle up the mountain and show her the trails that would challenge her. Cory, twenty-two, didn’t like having to babysit some teenaged ski prodigy for the afternoon when he could have been taking paying guests up the mountain and showing off his skills to an appreciative audience.
They took the lift to Vail’s world-famous Back Bowls, which was 2,966 acres of wide-open ski terrain. Cory took her to Blue Sky Basin, a spot that provided more rugged terrain and hence an exciting skiing experience.
He expected her to fall on her butt any minute now as he watched her schuss down the nicely packed light snow. Behind her, he began to admire her form and her daring, although he was a little apprehensive about the daring part. He had promised her mother he would bring her back without any broken bones.
Danielle came to a stop a few yards from the lift station and looked back at Cory through her goggles. The sun reflected brightly on the snow, so it was always advisable to shield her eyes. And the altitude was hard on the body, so Danielle made sure she was properly hydrated. She had a water bottle strapped to the back of her waist.
She took a few sips while she waited for Cory to catch up.
When he did arrive, he was laughing. “Okay, I give it to you, you’re good. But you also take way too many risks. You can’t go to the Olympics with a broken leg and definitely not with a broken neck.”
After satisfying her thirst, Danielle was busy applying more sunscreen to her exposed skin. But she was also listening. She loved skiing and it was true that her style looked reckless because she put so much energy into it, and speed was second nature to her, but deep down she was always contemplating her twists and turns and keeping her eyes peeled for pitfalls in the terrain.
Of all her ski heroes she had never known one who did not go for broke every time they were on the powder.
“Thanks,” she said with sincerity. “I’ll watch it next time.”
This was their second run down the mountain.
“It’s safe to go one more time, then,” Cory said, looking at the sky. “I think it’s getting ready to snow. Visibility isn’t going to be good.”
They made their way to the lift, boarded and he locked them in. As the lift rose into the air, Danielle asked, “Why do you work for a resort?”
“The pay’s good,” Cory said, “and where else would I get the chance to ski practically every day of the season?”
“I see what you mean,” Danielle said. She smiled at the short, muscular instructor.
He reminded her of a California surfer. Golden hair, blue eyes, tanned skin. “You look more like a snowboarder to me,” she told him. “Or a surfer, but isn’t snowboarding derived from surfing?”
Cory looked impressed. “I see you’ve done your homework. Yeah, I’ve done some surfing in my day. And I love snowboarding. You ought to try it next time you come.”
“Oh, I’ve already tried it,” Danielle told him. “It’s great, but I like the feeling of being in control I get from Alpine skiing.”
Cory laughed. “You don’t look like you’re in control out there.”
“But I am,” Danielle assured him.
“Your mother probably freaks every time she watches you compete,” he said astutely.
“She closes her eyes a lot,” Danielle admitted.
She w
ondered what sort of amusement Harry Payne had found for her mom while she was enjoying the great outdoors.
“Karibu Resorts announces the grand opening of our two-to-three-bedroom condominiums. At two thousand square feet, the units boast only the finest amenities, including hardwood floors, Berber carpeting, flagstone and marble tile and granite slab countertops in the kitchens. The kitchen is a cook’s dream with the latest appliances including a refrigerator, cooktops, a microwave and convection oven. And for you mermaids, there is a massaging tub in the master bedroom. As always the units will have wireless Internet access and flat-screen televisions with surround sound, plus satellite radio.”
Harry and Cherisse were standing among the small crowd of staff, guests and media people gathered at the site of the new condominiums listening to Harry’s general manager, Peter Wisdom, give a statement to the press.
“Shouldn’t that be you up there?” Cherisse joked.
Harry smiled. “I try to stay in the background as much as possible. I derive pleasure from watching my plans for the resort come together.”
“Karibu Resort is offering a lucky family of four a week’s vacation in one of our new condominiums. To enter, simply go to Karibu-dot-com and sign up, or you may mail in the entry forms found in last week’s local papers and trade magazines. The drawing will be held on November thirtieth. Now, the tour of the first furnished condominium is officially underway. Please join us. And thank you for coming out today.” Peter finished with a flourish and people began entering the condo in an orderly fashion.
With his hand at the base of her spine, Harry asked Cherisse, “Would you like to see our new baby?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Cherisse said enthusiastically.
The condo looked like an elegantly appointed home in an upscale neighborhood.
“How many guests can stay in each unit?” Cherisse asked. It was big enough to accommodate quite a few people.
“Six in the two-bedroom units and eight in the three-bedroom units,” Harry answered. “We have to comply with fire codes. There are always guests who break the rules, though, and they’re hard to catch.”
Cherisse laughed softly. “Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem.”
Her cell phone rang. She thought of letting the message function kick in, but when she pulled it from her purse and read the name on the screen, she hurriedly answered. It belonged to Gerald, one of the nurses she worked with. Gerald had never had occasion to phone her in the past and she knew he had to have a very good reason to do so now.
“Gerry?” she answered, her voice rife with concern.
Gerald was laughing. “Oh, Cheri, I know you’re somewhere in Vail this weekend but I thought you would want to know—Amy woke up!”
Tears of joy came to Cherisse’s eyes and she started laughing, too. “Thank God! Has she said anything yet?”
“Yeah,” Gerald reported, “she said, ‘I’m so thirsty, may I have a Coke?’”
“And when you told her she could have water instead?” Cherisse prompted.
“She said, ‘Aaw, man, I hate water,’” Gerald said, still laughing. He pulled himself together. “I’ll let you go now. Have fun in Vail!”
“Thanks for calling, Gerry, I’m so happy for Amy. ’Bye now.”
Cherisse closed the phone and put it back in her shoulder bag. Looking up at Harry, she said, “That was one of the nurses I work with. A patient, a little girl who sustained severe head injuries and was in a coma, woke up today. She wasn’t expected to pull through so it feels like a miracle.”
Harry was smiling because he had watched her during the entire conversation and had been highly charmed by her show of compassion. How her expression had gone from worry to sheer joy in a matter of seconds when her nurse friend had given her the good news. She genuinely cared.
“That’s wonderful,” Harry said.
The tour was over and they began walking toward the exit. “May I ask how she got hurt?”
Cherisse sighed sadly. “It was her father. From what I read in the paper, the girl’s mother left him and didn’t bother taking their only child with her. Frustrated at being the lone parent he flew into a rage and beat the child nearly to death. He then fled the scene. A neighbor found Amy and called 911.”
“Did they ever find the father?” Harry asked, absorbed in the story.
“Oh, yeah, he’s in jail now awaiting trial for attempted murder.”
“What about Amy’s mother?” Harry asked hopefully.
“She never came forward,” Cherisse told him.
“So Amy goes into the system when she recovers?”
“Looks like it,” Cherisse said. “But there’s always the possibility of another family member claiming her.”
As they left the condo, walking around others who had attended the debut, Harry suddenly heard his name being called.
He looked up and saw Marcia hurrying toward them, a cameraman in tow. Frowning, he muttered, “What the hell does she want?”
Cherisse had been unable to understand what he said, but her eyes followed his line of sight and once she saw Marcia Shaw, she realized that the Marcia he had told her about was one of Denver’s most popular news anchors.
She paused in her steps, waiting for Harry to speak with Marcia in private. From the harried expression on Marcia Shaw’s face, she was either late or had been forced into an assignment she did not want to do.
Harry’s eyes narrowed as Marcia came up to him and said sotto voce, “The program director thought it would be more interesting to the viewers if I covered your condo opening. I haven’t had the chance to tell her that you and I are no longer dating.”
“Sorry,” said Harry. “The general manager has already given the resort’s statement to the press. The reporters from the other two TV stations and three newspapers were here on time. At the moment I’m showing an important guest around. Please excuse me. Your cameraman is free to film the condo.” He gestured to the furnished condo with a nod of his head. “It’s the one with all the people coming out of it.”
Marcia gave him a pleading look. “Come on, Harry, be nice. It’s a slow news day.”
“It must be if you’re covering a condo grand opening,” Harry said dryly.
Marcia cocked a critical eye in Cherisse’s direction. “Is that your important guest?”
Harry didn’t reply. He turned away and began walking back to Cherisse.
“She’s cute, Harry,” Marcia said. “If she would do something with that wild hair she could be a stunner.”
Cherisse heard that. The comment stung. She didn’t know why Marcia Shaw was taking her frustration out on her. She was an innocent bystander.
She met Harry’s eyes and saw by the fury in them that he wasn’t going to let Marcia get away with her petty cruelty to a stranger.
But Cherisse walked up to him and took him by the hand. “Let it go, Harry. Miss Shaw is obviously having a bad day.
Harry shot Marcia such a blatantly belligerent look that she automatically took a step backward. “There’s nothing here for us,” she said to the confused cameraman. “Let’s go.”
Stiff, Harry watched Marcia quickly retreat with the cameraman lugging the heavy camera on his shoulder.
After what she’d done he was amazed that she would have the nerve to show up here asking for help with an assignment. But people like Marcia Shaw rarely worried about how they achieved their goals. The only thing that counted with them was winning. She had won LaShaun back. It didn’t matter that she had strung him along for 90 days in order to do it!
Cherisse felt very indecisive at that moment. She didn’t know Harry well at all. Was it appropriate for her to help soothe his hurt feelings? Had he been in love with Marcia?
What he’d said earlier about his being able to get over Marcia so quickly because she had unapologetically used him to make her former boyfriend jealous didn’t mean he hadn’t fallen for the beautiful anchorwoman. That could have been bravado.
It might not be wise for her to stick her nose in his business.
Harry turned to her. “Cheri, may I ask you a question?”
Cherisse smiled up at him. Of course if he asked her to stick her nose in his business it was perfectly fine. “Ask away,” she said.
“Why did you stop me from laying into that woman?”
It was an unexpected question but Cherisse rolled with it. “Because the only reason she said what she did is because she was upset that you would replace her so quickly. And with someone who is obviously unglamorous, to boot! She was livid.”
“Even though she doesn’t want me and has gone back to LaShaun?” Harry asked incredulously.
“She has her pride,” Cherisse explained. “She saw me and the claws came out. I doubt if she even thought for a moment about what was going to come out of her mouth. It was instinctive.”
“So, you forgive the comment?” asked Harry, an amused glint in his eyes.
“Of course, but if she ever insults me again I’m going to pull that weave right out of her head,” Cherisse joked. “It is a weave, isn’t it? Not that I’ve got anything against weaves, just women who wear them and then go around insulting women who don’t!”
Harry laughed and took Cherisse by the elbow, directing her away from the condo and onto the walkway that led back to the main part of the resort, about a twenty-minute walk. “That’s more like it,” he said. “For a minute there I thought I was in the presence of a saint.”
“Saint Cherisse?” said Cherisse. “It has a nice ring to it.”
“Saint Cheri, patron saint of women with beautiful, natural hair. I love your hair,” Harry said, smiling down at her. Cherisse could tell that he really did like her hair, a fact that made her inordinately happy for some insane reason.
“You want to hear my theory about black women and their hair?” she asked, still in a joking mood.
“By all means,” said Harry easily.
“The more we try to whip our hair into submission by chemically straightening it, the more it rebels by breaking, being lackluster and generally a pain in the butt. But when we let go and learn to love the hair we were born with, it flourishes, grows wild and abundant. It becomes boastful and prideful and that’s why it stands up and says, ‘Look at me, I’m the way Mother Nature made me, aren’t I gorgeous?’” She laughed softly. “And that’s why my hair is so wild and unruly. It just won’t be quiet.”
