The Way Champions Love

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The Way Champions Love Page 3

by Tina Martin


  “Okay, but I’m warning you—those pop-up visits be the worst.”

  Harding headed for the exit with Mordecai trailing him, the men standing tall, looking like twins. They’d caught several googly eyes heading out of the restaurant, but that was the norm. Women couldn’t take their eyes off of them and while Mordecai enjoyed the attention, Harding had his eyes only on one woman – his wife whom he couldn’t see, at least not at the moment.

  Tomorrow would be a different story.

  Chapter 3

  Even though her parent’s house was a custom-built, Daniel Island home – a full forty-two-hundred square feet monstrosity – it always felt stuffy and claustrophobic. The house was filled with old, antique furniture, a grand piano that nobody ever played, unused couches and expensive rugs that no one was allowed to walk on.

  The huge property suited her mother’s showy lifestyle, but still, that was a lot of house for two people. Given the right owner, the house could easily have been converted into a bed and breakfast with its six bedrooms, five baths (four full, one half) and large, screened-in back porch overlooking the well-manicured grounds.

  Savannah took a sip of red wine – some fresh from her father’s wine cellar. Alistair enjoyed having company over to brag about his wine collection, but they had no company at the moment and he had popped the cork on one of his finest Chateau’s – a bottle he’d paid over a thousand dollars for which meant the sip Savannah had taken must’ve cost about a hundred bucks – a lot of money to throw at fermented grape juice as far as she was concerned. Talk about expensive taste…

  “What’s the special occasion, father?” Savannah asked, sitting at the heavily decorated dining room table – a table big enough to be used as a landing strip for a small, single-engine plane.

  “Who said there had to be a special occasion?” he asked, his voice sounding deep and gritty.

  Savannah shot up an eyebrow. She knew better. Studying her father, she tried to read him to determine his angle. Alistair Ellsworth always had an angle.

  What are you up to, Dad? She stared at him a moment more.

  To be sixty, her father kept himself looking good. His light skin barely had wrinkles. He had a full head of gray-black hair, a neatly groomed salt and pepper mustache and an in-shape body. Intelligence was one of his finest qualities and he looked distinguished. Looked like he was up to something.

  “Your father and I simply wanted to have a meal with you, dear,” Dorthea said.

  Like I’m going to believe that…

  Her mother definitely had something up her sleeve. Savannah could sense it. She glanced up at her mother watching as an incredulous smile appeared on the face of the woman who shared her complexion. Savannah watched on as her mother stabbed a green bean with her fork and brought it up to her mouth. One bean. Who eats one bean at a time? Her snooty mother did, that’s who. She also came to the dinner table dressed like she was going to a White House correspondence dinner, wearing her favorite gold earrings that were so heavy, they stretched the lobes of her ears. Then there was the watch she wore that cost more than a small automobile. Her coffin-shaped fingernails were painted gothic black and if she applied just a little more makeup to her face, she could assume a new identity. And did she really have to wear rings on every finger?

  “Your father tells me you’ve been doing a phenomenal job at the firm, darling,” Dorthea said with pride in her voice.

  Darling. Savannah would’ve rolled her eyes if she wasn’t afraid they’d popped right out of their sockets. “I try to do what I can,” Savannah replied, feigning cheerfulness.

  “Look at you being modest,” Alistair said. “You certainly didn’t get that trait from your mom’s side of the family.” He chuckled – like really chuckled – leaning back in his chair having a good ol’ raspy laugh.

  Savannah grinned. She’d never seen her father so tickled. Must’ve been the high-priced wine.

  “Oh, shut your trap, Al,” Dorthea said.

  After his laughter subsided, he said, “Savannah, in all seriousness—you’re doing an excellent job. You’re making a name for yourself around here, and I want you to know I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome. Keep it up.”

  She gave a small smile while trying to think up an excuse to bail out early. She could only take but so much of her parents at one time. Besides, the longer she stayed, the greater the chances of something ridiculous happening.

  Dorthea cleared her throat. “We were wondering when you were going to settle down. Your father and I would like to see you married with at least one child prior to making partner.”

  Savannah’s cheeks flushed with exasperation. The ridiculousness had officially arrived. “Mom, please. Can’t we just have a nice dinner together? Let’s not go there tonight.”

  “I think we should go there considering you’re thirty-two. Gone are the days when you had all the time in the world to have a child. In just a few more years, honey, your eggs are going to be as dry as cracked pepper.”

  Alistair glanced up at Annabelle, their cook and housekeeper, and said, “Ah, speaking of eggs, the caviar is here.”

  “Here you go, Al,” Annabelle said, knowing how much the man loved himself some caviar.

  “Thank you, Anna.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Dorthea rolled her eyes. She’d grown jealous of Annabelle over the years since Annabelle was more domesticated than she was and had more wife-like qualities. Dorthea didn’t have a domestic bone in her size eight body, nor did she possess the natural affection a mother was supposed to have for her child. She was too busy being a people pleaser to be an actual mother.

  When Annabelle was out of the room and back in the kitchen, Dorthea asked, “Savannah, did you hear what I said?”

  Savannah childishly rolled her eyes. “I heard you.” She placed her elbows on the table and held her head in anguish.

  “Ta, ta, ta,” Dorthea said, waving her index finger like a windshield wiper. “No elbows on the dinner table. Has my baby forgotten proper etiquette?”

  Goodness gracious. I’ve got to get out of here! Savannah complied with her mother’s rule and sat back in her chair.

  “You don’t have anything to say about the concern I raised? About you giving me a grandbaby?” Dorthea asked, not letting up.

  “In fact, I do.” Struggling to keep a straight face, Savannah said, “How do you know anything about cracked pepper? You’ve never cooked a day in your life.”

  Sloshing wine around in his glass, Alistair chuckled before all-out laughter erupted from his throat. His hearty laugh made Savannah giggle, too.

  “She got you there, Thea,” Alistair said. “You’re a woman of many talents but cooking is not one of them.”

  “Which is why I pay people to cook for me,” she said in a boastful tone with the haughty head shaking and all. “Now, back to the topic at hand—when are you going to settle down, have a family and pass the wealth this family has secured on down to my grandbabies?”

  Savannah’s leg bounced up and down underneath the table. “I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time believing this is the topic you want to discuss over dinner.”

  “Believe it, dear,” Alistair said. “You need to start being responsible and that means securing this family’s future.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How is having a baby securing this family’s future?”

  Dorthea shook her head and blew a breath. “Eight years of schooling and this child doesn’t have a clue. Aye yi yi…”

  “Child?” Savannah asked, frowning.

  “Gosh, honey, talk to her,” Dorthea said, exasperated.

  Alistair dabbed his mouth with the white, cotton napkin he’d taken from his lap and then said, “Okay, let me break it down for you, lil’ girl. There’s a lot of money flowing through this family. When me and you mom are dead and gone, we want to make sure it falls into good hands—and by good hands, I mean this family’s hands.
Unfortunately, we don’t feel confident about making you the beneficiary of the will until you can prove to us that you’re ready.”

  Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “Wait—let me make sure I’m understanding you correctly. I’m supposed to prove I’m ready by getting married and having a baby?”

  “By age thirty-five,” Dorthea said. “I didn’t want to impose a deadline, but you leave me no choice in the matter.”

  Leave me no choice…

  Savannah seethed, so furious she could hardly gather her thoughts. “You have got to be kidding me. Have I not proven how responsible and trustworthy I am? I’ve endured eight years of college for a job I never wanted, passed the bar without so much of a hiccup and my worth to you comes down to my ability to have a husband and a child?”

  “Well, not necessarily your worth,” Dorthea said looking at Savannah. “Oh, look at you, honey. You’re all flustered. Drink yourself some ice water, baby. Your cheeks are red and I don’t think you wear rouge.”

  “No, I don’t. You wear enough for the both of us.” Savannah snatched the napkin from her lap and slammed it on the table. Then, she pushed away from the table and escaped to the nearest bathroom. She had to get out of here. Her heart was beating so fast, her breaths couldn’t keep up. How could her parents be so snobbish? And where did they get off telling her that she had to get married and have a child before age thirty-five to secure a beneficiary status on something that should’ve been rightfully hers in the first place? Everything in her wanted to march in there and tell them she was already married – to Harding. Harding had given her a deadline to tell them and this was the prime opportunity to do so.

  Just do it, Savannah. Tell them. That’ll shut them up for sure.

  She held her stomach, feeling it nearly sink to the floor when she heard the grand ringing of the doorbell.

  Visitors? Really?

  She tipped slowly down the hallway, and when she was back in view of the dining room, her brain spasmed. Yep. This confirms it. I should’ve snuck out of the back door.

  “Darling,” Dorthea said when she saw Savannah step into the room. “Look who stopped by to join us.”

  Savannah mortared a smile on her face. Shanice and Toby Carrington were here along with their son, Dudley. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Carrington. Hi, Dudley.”

  “Hello, precious,” Mr. Carrington said, taking Savannah’s hand into his and bringing it up to meet his wrinkly, puckered lips. The old man was fond of women – not so much of his wife. He released Savannah’s hand and then Mrs. Carrington gave her one of those pretentious air kisses.

  Savannah was relieved that Shanice didn’t actually touch her. The woman’s perfume smelled like a mixture of mothballs and lavender oil. She didn’t want that scent on her clothes.

  “Hi, Savannah,” Dudley said.

  “Hi,” she told him, familiarizing herself with his chocolate complexion, tall frame and well-groomed appearance.

  “Isn’t this a delightful surprise?” Dorthea asked, looking at Savannah.

  Surprise? Yeah. Right. Who does mother think she’s fooling? This was no drop-in…more like a setup.

  “Yeah. It’s so nice,” Savannah said with tension tightening the phony smile on her face. Unlike her parents, she hadn’t mastered the art of being fake. The smile on her face was drying up faster than freshly poured concrete. If she didn’t get rid of it now, it would set into place.

  She walked towards her chair and reached for it when Dudley did the honors of pulling it out from the table for her. She glanced over at her mother, watching her smile in sheer delight.

  “Thanks, Dudley,” Savannah said to be polite.

  “You’re welcome. ” He took the empty seat next to her.

  Annabelle brought out more food while the Carrington’s got settled.

  Alistair ran down to the cellar to grab a fresh bottle of wine to brag about.

  “Ooh, Shanice, I like that cut on you, honey. Fa-bu-lous!” Dorthea said, admiring her friend’s new hairdo. “It frames your face perfectly.”

  “Why, thank you. Toby wasn’t too fond of it, at first, but he came around.”

  Toby grinned. “Not like I had much choice in the matter.”

  The three had a good, stiff cackle and then all eyes focused on Savannah and Dudley.

  “Look at that,” Dorthea said. “Looks like they’re a couple already, doesn’t it?”

  Savannah frowned. “Mom, will you stop?”

  “Oh, quit your whining, lil’ girl. It ain’t every day you run across a man like Dudley. I’m here to tell you—the Carrington’s raised a mighty fine young man here. A strong, intelligent black man with something to offer the world.”

  Savannah leaned over and whispered in Dudley’s ear, “Sounds like my mom wants you. Ew.”

  Dudley whispered back, “And my dad seemed to enjoy making out with your hand.”

  The two beamed with amusement, then Dudley cleared his throat and said, “Thank you for the compliment, Mrs. Ellsworth.”

  “I meant every word of it, baby.”

  Savannah grabbed a glass of water, chugging it, hoping to relieve the dryness in her throat.

  “Woo, woo! Looka here, looka here,” Alistair said, stepping into the dining room with another bottle of wine. “You see this here, Toby?”

  “What you got there, Al?”

  Alistair held the bottle in one hand, angling it so he could read the label. “This here is a ten-year-old Chateau Petrus.”

  “Oooh. Nice,” Toby said. “That must’ve set you back a pretty penny.”

  “Sure did. I paid four racks for this here.”

  Savannah snickered, then covered her mouth to keep from all-out laughing.

  Amused, Dudley leaned over and whispered in her ear, “What does your old man know about racks?”

  She laughed, still somewhat hiding behind her hand.

  Dudley was laughing, too.

  “He thinks he’s so hip,” Savannah said. “You don’t know how much of this crap I have to endure on a weekly basis.”

  “I can only imagine,” Dudley said. “Just the other day, dad called me at work specifically to ask what on fleek meant?”

  “You’re kidding?” she said, smiling.

  “I wish I was.” Dudley smirked. “Hey, I’m going to step outside and get some air. Would you like to join me?”

  “Sure.”

  Dudley stood up.

  Savannah stood, too, and said, “Excuse us. We’ll be right back.”

  Dorthea smiled. So did Shanice.

  Alistair was so busy bragging about the wine to Toby, he hadn’t realized they’d gotten up.

  Dudley followed Savannah to the front door where he opened the massive, cottage-round door so they both could exit. Heading down the stairs, they stood out in the front yard for a moment, next to his black Porsche.

  “I know this is awkward,” he said, crossing his arms.

  “That’s an understatement.” She opted to climb the stairs again, then sat on the fourth step from the ground. “I don’t know why our parents feel like we should be together.”

  “You know why,” Dudley said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he paced the ground near his car. “You didn’t hear what your mother said about me? I’m a catch.”

  Savannah grinned.

  He raised a brow. “You disagree?”

  “You very well could be, Dudley, but I want to be with someone I love, not a man who my parents want me to be with. No offense, but everybody in Charleston knows your reputation with the ladies.”

  He stopped pacing and looked at her. “You do know none of that is true, by the way.”

  “What’s not true? The hoes in different area codes or all the baby rumors?”

  He laughed. “None of it’s true.”

  “Then why does everyone say that? You got the courtrooms buzzing.”

  He shrugged his large shoulders. “I think my parents started those rumors so women would steer clear of me. That way,
they could eventually get us together.”

  Savannah’s eyes widened. “You think they would stoop that low and purposely try to ruin your reputation?”

  “I don’t think it. I know it for a fact,” he said walking up the stairs and sitting next to her. “They’re more controlling than your parents.”

  Savannah laughed. “I will have to disagree with you. My mother told me, tonight, that I wasn’t mature enough to be the beneficiary of their will. Said I had to have a baby and be married before I turned thirty-five.”

  “Wow! So, you got three years. Better get busy.”

  Savannah nudged him with her elbow. “They want that guy to be you. They’re obsessed with getting us together.”

  “I know. What’s crazy is, I’ve been in a serious relationship for a couple of years.”

  “Really?” Savannah asked, smiling. “Do your parents know about it?”

  “Yeah, they do, and so does yours. That’s not a deterrent for them, though.”

  “Especially not my mother. Once Dorthea Ellsworth gets her mind set on something, it’s a wrap.” Savannah sighed. She neglected to tell Dudley that she, too, was in a serious relationship, only because she didn’t want it to get back to her parents in any way. She wanted to be the one to tell them she was married. She didn’t want them to get wind of it any other way.

  Dudley expelled a breath. “Oh, the joys of coming from parents who got racks on racks on racks.”

  They both burst out in laughter.

  “My father is a trip,” Savannah said. “He’s beyond the mid-life crisis phase of his life, yet he’s still trying to be hip. And mom hates it. She looks at him with contempt whenever he uses any form of slang. To her, it’s embarrassing—no, unbecoming.”

  “It’s not unbecoming…just the world we live in. Boy have times changed.”

  Savannah laughed again. “Now, you sound like an old man.”

  He smirked. Then he took a serious, long look at her and said, “If I were single, you’d be a catch. You’re a beautiful woman, Savannah. Well-educated, respectful and beautiful. Don’t let money dictate your life. My parents don’t even like each other.”

 

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