Be My Valentine: The McClendon Holiday Series, Book 3

by Sean D. Young

  Patrice could tell that Nikki wanted to say something to her because she kept staring at her, but when she looked up at Nikki, she’d turn away.

  “Nikki, if you have something to say, please say it. I won’t get angry.” Depending on what she had to say, Patrice couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t bother her.

  “I would like to return to work, but my face,” she said, putting her hand to her discolored eye.

  Patrice nodded. “I agree. Not just yet. By the way, have you heard from him?”

  From the expression on Nikki’s face, Patrice could tell that she was successful in shocking her. But instead of answering the question, Nikki took a swallow of the hot coffee.

  She immediately spit it back into the cup because she scalded her tongue.

  Patrice leaned forward. “Are you okay?”

  Throwing her hand over her mouth, Nikki coughed to clear her throat. She broke a piece of her bagel off and shoved it in her mouth. Finally, meeting Patrice’s gaze she answered her. “Yes, he’s out.”

  “That didn’t take long,” Patrice said, sensing all the time that Terrance had been dropping little seeds of doubt in Nikki’s mind. It was a good time to get up from the table because she could see herself telling her not to trust him. But she didn’t want to preach to Nikki this morning. All she really wanted to do was put her clothes on and go to work and that’s just what she was going to do.

  “I’m running late,” she said, picking up her napkin, dabbing the corners of her mouth.

  Patrice kissed Katrina on the cheek, went into her room, got ready for work and rushed out the door.

  * * * * *

  Patrice tried to focus on the things she had to do in her own life as she drove to work. She had to try hard not to think about Nikki’s ordeal because every time she seemed to relax, she saw Nikki’s bloody face. She wanted to understand her behavior and the why in what she was doing. Not knowing a person’s motives can keep you confused as to their actions. When she got home later in the evening she would have to just be upfront with Nikki to find out what her plans were in the recent future.

  Easing into the lot at Good Scents there were several cars in the small lot and one was Jacques’s, so she knew he was inside. Patrice didn’t know if she was ready to face him after she let him down the night before. She really didn’t mean to hurt him and she wished he understood, but he didn’t.

  Opening the car door, nervous flutters attacked her and she had to stop and take a deep breath. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in Jacques’s eyes, but she didn’t want to hear his mouth about her situation either.

  “Good morning, Fantasia,” she said as she walked over to the counter.

  Fantasia turned around. “Well, hello, Patrice,” she said. “Are we going to hire another person to work with me?”

  “Is Sheila not working out?” Patrice asked.

  “Yes, she does fine, but I thought she was just going to be working with me for a couple of days.”

  “No, there are other changes coming soon, so I’m not going to change anything. I think that Sheila will be a great aroma girl.”

  Fantasia smiled. “I do too. I just was thinking about what we’ll do when Nikki comes back.”

  “We’ll figure that out. No need to worry,” Patrice said.

  Sheila Grant was a young woman who worked on the spa side as the hostess. She helped Fantasia out at the counter one afternoon when the store was crowded, giving Patrice an idea to make her an aroma girl. From the feedback that Fantasia was giving her, it seemed to be a good fit. Now, Patrice could move forward with the second part of her plan.

  “Fantasia, as soon as Sheila comes in, I want you to come down to my office. We need to talk.”

  Patrice reached over and patted her hand after she saw her panic-stricken face. “It’s not what you think, but I don’t want to stand here and talk about it. The shop will be opening at any moment.”

  “I’ll be right down. She usually gets here a little before nine o’clock.”

  Patrice lifted her eyes at the clock on the wall. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she said stepping away.

  Mentally going over her to-do list, Patrice tried to figure out the priority in which she should get things done. She used to make a list every night of the things she had to do the next day, but lately she hadn’t been doing any of the things she used to do.

  Thirty minutes later, there was a knock at her door. She looked up from her computer screen and saw Fantasia standing there. Waving her hand, giving her permission to enter, Patrice pulled up some notes that she’d made the day of the staff fragrance sample meeting.

  “Is now a good time?” Fantasia asked.

  “Yes, please have a seat.” Patrice offered.

  Patrice made up her mind not to make this a long drawn out meeting because she could tell that Fantasia was nervous. She needed to quickly relieve the woman’s anxiety.

  “Fantasia, I’m so sorry that I’ve put this off. I wanted to talk to you for a while now.”

  “What is this about?” Fantasia asked, adjusting her body in the chair.

  “With the launch of the new fragrance, we will be adding new services to our offerings.”

  “That’s great,” Fantasia said.

  Patrice beamed. “Yes, it is. And that’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

  Fantasia pointed to herself. “Me.”

  “Yes, you,” Patrice said, smiling. “I love the way you work with the customers. Your face lights up when you’re explaining the function and the benefits of essential oils. It gave me an idea. I would like to help you get your certificate in aromatherapy and also make you the Good Scents Brand Knowledge Specialist.”

  “Wow,” Fantasia said.

  “Of course you would get an increase in pay. It wouldn’t be a big jump, but I believe over time as we grow, you will be compensated well. We would make sure that you are kept up to speed on the industry. You’d go to conferences and you’d work closer with me.”

  “I would no longer be an aroma girl?”

  “You’d actually be managing them, guiding them with what to do when a customer comes into the store. Stepping in when they aren’t sure what to do. Essentially part of your job would be to train them in becoming what you are today.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “If we do this right, we could probably think about adding another Good Scents location. Right now that’s a bit down the road, but if we start here, by the time we get there, we’ve already gone through our trial and error.”

  “Thank you so much,” Fantasia said, running over to Patrice hugging her. “I’m so excited.”

  “I am too, Fantasia. It’s going to be awesome,” Patrice said.

  For several more seconds, Fantasia hugged Patrice tight, so much so that she had to remind her. “Tasia, you’re squeezing me.” Patrice knew Fantasia was appreciative of the opportunity. She wanted to laugh at her actions, but she was holding her so tight, she really couldn’t breathe.

  Releasing Patrice quickly, Fantasia went back to the empty chair.

  Patrice cleared her throat. She didn’t blame Fantasia for being excited; she was too. “Now, this is what I need your help with short term. I need you to help me with the decorations for Valentine’s Day.”

  “I saw that Marla had some up on the spa side. They looked really nice suspended from the ceiling,” Fantasia said.

  “She did a good job, but I want yours to be different. We’re going to have to be more detailed with the décor on this side. Remember we are getting ready to launch the fragrance, so everything needs to be right.”

  “Do you have a picture or poster of the bottle? Do we know what it looks like?”

  “We should have it shortly,” Patrice replied. At least I hope so.

  Fantasia stood. I’m going to get back to the
front, but I’ll have some ideas for you in a couple of days.”

  “I knew I could count on you, Tasia. Thanks so much for holding down the fort. I know I haven’t been around a lot.”

  “I understand that you are trying to build the business, so I didn’t mind.”

  “And it’s paying off for you now,” Patrice said.

  Fantasia went to the door. “I’ll talk to you later. Thanks so much for the offer.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Focusing on the business helped Patrice, but only for a little while. As soon as it was time for lunch, the feeling of loneliness returned. Why couldn’t she shake this off? She had no problem in the past, letting go. What was different this time?

  Staring at her computer screen, Patrice tried to push away her thoughts of the last conversation with Jacques. She could tell that there was something different in the sound of his voice. If only he could see what she saw maybe he’d understand why she was doing everything she could to help Nikki. Besides the fact that the woman didn’t have anyone else, she trusted her. All those things were facts that Jacques already knew, but still he was acting possessively and unconcerned.

  Thinking that maybe some fresh air would help her to feel better, she moved back from her desk. Swiping her coat and hat from the rack, she slipped them on as she walked out the door. Turning back so that she could lock the door, she bumped into Jacques as he was coming down the hall.

  “Excuse me,” he said, his hand landing in the center of her back, catching her when she stumbled backwards.

  Grateful that he’d stopped her fall and still not ready to talk to him, Patrice turned and gave him a nod before straightening her hat and adjusting her coat. She continued toward the front of the boutique.

  “Patrice,” he said loudly.

  She stopped and turned around. Although her expression looked calm on the outside, she was very nervous because she didn’t know what to expect as she stared into his irritated eyes. “Good morning. Oh, I mean, afternoon to you Jacques,” she said.

  “Are we going to do this again?” he said, walking closer to her.

  “Do what, Jacques?”

  “Not talk to each other.”

  “I’m talking to you.”

  Patrice could feel the heat from him, his presence so demanding. The intense gaze made her want to turn and walk away. She didn’t know what else to say to him. She wanted to hug him, tell him again how sorry she was for ruining their romantic evening. But none of that would fix what happened between them. Being silent at this point was the only thing she knew to do.

  Jacques reached out and touched her hand. “Listen, I was about to go out for lunch, would you like to join me?”

  Surprised by the invitation, Patrice tried not to think about it too long and give him the impression that she didn’t want to go. “Sure. Do you have a specific place in mind?”

  “No, I just want to be with you. I could care less where we eat, if we eat at all.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They walked down to a little deli a few blocks from the boutique. They ordered tomato bisque soup, Ruben sandwiches, some homemade chips and iced sweet tea. After finding a table, Jacques stretched his hand across the table and captured her hand. “Thanks for coming along.”

  Patrice was shocked by his gesture, but gave him a slight grin. She dipped her spoon in her soup, looked up at him as she sipped the piping hot contents.

  “Nikki’s still pretty bruised up,” she said. Stirring the mixture, she waited for his response, but after there wasn’t one, she continued to give him an update. “I’m almost convinced that Terrance is trying to get back into her life. I’m suspicious about how she feels about him now.”

  Her eyes went from the top of Jacques’s head to the tray on the table. He continued to enjoy his meal while she spoke without saying a word. He hadn’t raised his head even once or made eye contact with her.

  “Jacques, did you hear me?” Patrice asked, becoming frustrated with his dismissive behavior. She stared at him and watched as his eyes narrowed and the strong set in his jaw appeared.

  “I don’t wanna hear it,” he said, shaking his head. “I wanted to have lunch with you and talk about anything other than Nikki and her ordeal.”

  Releasing a loud sigh, Jacques picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth, placing it on the tray. Pushing it to the middle of the table, he leaned forward. “This is not a good situation. I just have a feeling when everything explodes, you’re going to end up in the crossfire.”

  Patrice could have kicked her own self. She should have known better than to tell him about Nikki and Terrance’s situation. He didn’t want to have anything to do with it, or wanted her to either. He’d told her as much, but she didn’t think he was serious. “Jacques, I’ve got things under control.”

  He raised his hand. “Okay, I’m done. I have no more to say about the situation,” he said, pulling his tray back to him. Picking up his sandwich, he took a bite and placed it back on the plate. “Their dysfunction is putting a strain on our relationship.”

  Again, Patrice had no idea what to say to him to get him to see her point of view. They did have something good together before Nikki showed up at her door. They could still have something good if only he could be patient with her.

  Pushing all the negative feelings aside, she wanted to attempt to get him to see that she didn’t want their lunch to end in a fight. “I didn’t quite get things right last night. I know that and I’m sorry.” She reached across the table and touched his hand. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you tonight?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’ll come over and cook for you,” she suggested. She watched and waited for his answer.

  “We just tried that last night, remember?”

  “I know, I know, but Nikki doesn’t have a meeting tonight. She should be able to take care of Katrina herself.”

  Jacques smiled. “And you’ll do the cooking?”

  “Are you suggesting I can’t cook?” Patrice asked, not knowing if he were kidding or not. His facial expression didn’t give away his feelings.

  “I didn’t say that,” Jacques replied. “I’m also not going to mention a cancellation this time.”

  “Good,” Patrice said, feeling relieved that he agreed.

  “Girl, you better show up,” Jacques said, then laughed before he gave her a wink.

  Patrice shook her head as she watched him take another huge bite from his sandwich. She was looking forward to spending the evening with him.

  “I think my soup is cold,” she said.

  “I’ll go and get you another cup,” Jacques said, dragging his chair back.

  “Thank you,” Patrice replied.

  When Jacques got up, Patrice sighed. She’d never had a hard time talking to Jacques until recently. She didn’t know what she should or should not say to him and honestly she didn’t know how she felt about it. Watching him walk back to the table, she wished that she could rewind the clock and have things return to the way they used to be. He sat and they ate the rest of their lunch quietly before heading back to the office.

  * * * * *

  Jacques stopped by his sister’s house to pick up the rest of the things he’d left. Cecilia wasn’t home, so he got his belongings and was gone quickly. On his way home, he called Patrice.

  “Baby, do you want me to pick up anything?”

  “No, I’m going to have what I need with me when I come, but thanks for asking.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied. After the last couple of times that she cancelled on him, he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help it. He was always excited when they spent time together.

  “Things are going to get better, baby, I promise,” she said.

  “I believe that too,”
Jacques said.

  “I’ll see you soon,” Patrice told him.

  “Can’t wait to see you.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jacques was sitting in the easy chair sipping on a glass of wine. He decided to go ahead and go furniture shopping one day after work since he and Patrice were arguing with each other every other day. He didn’t want to sleep on the blow up mattress another night. He was pleased with his choices, but would have liked to have had her there with him.

  He reared back and closed his eyes as he listened to the acoustic guitar of Peter White while he waited for Patrice to arrive. As the music played, Jacques thought about how much he loved Patrice, but he also finally understood that she may not be ready for the kind of love he wanted to give her. Behind her sassy mouth, he could see that she was a fixer. The type of woman who had to help a person when she found that they were in need.

  Patrice was much different than the other women he’d dated in the past. Patrice was strong and driven, not afraid to put in the work. She had compassion and love for others despite the hard exterior she tried to showcase.

  Thirty minutes later, he opened his eyes not realizing that he’d fell asleep. He checked his watch and realized that something was wrong. Here we go again.

  He picked up the phone to call her, but instead, he threw the phone down. I am not calling her. He headed to the cabinet and took the peanut butter and jelly. Removing a butter knife from the drawer, he opened up the jars and began making a sandwich. As he spread the jelly over the top, he kept looking at his phone. He even stopped one time to see if she’d at least sent him a text message, but there was nothing from her.

  That’s it. I’m going over there. Jacques grabbed his coat from the back of one of the kitchen chairs, swiped his keys from the edge of the counter and walked out of the house, leaving his sandwich on the table.