Authors: Pamela Yaye
Chapter 14
M
onique reached the city-auditorium parking lot and her car, which aside from the city vehicles was the only one there. After thanking the driver, who refused to take a tip, she got into her vehicle and headed home. With all of the thoughts swirling in her mind, she was thankful for the quiet time. Now that she'd been alone with him, there was no doubt in her mind that the lust she felt for Niko could easily turn into love. He was handsome, thoughtful, successful and smart. What woman couldn't fall head over heels for a man like him? And those kisses? Good Lord! He hadn't forced the situation. It was what she'd wanted. Now she wanted much, much more.
“If only...” she whispered, as she turned the corner and took in the desolate streets. Paradise Cove was a lovely townâpeaceful, beautiful and nearly crime-free. Her thoughts moved to the fire and its cause. The fire chief had offered nothing tonight and that was understandable. But experience had taught Monique to be suspicious at least and skeptical at best. That way you were left with few surprises. With a heave of her shoulders she sighed and thought of Devante. At the same exact time, her phone rang.
She looked at the caller ID. Devante!
She pressed the button on the steering wheel, gripping it for whatever news would be delivered when she answered. “My God, Devante. I've been so worried!”
“I'm sorry,” a cautious-sounding voice answered. “My phone died. I just started charging it and saw the missed calls.”
“Did you listen to my message?”
“About the fire? Yeah, I heard it. Sorry you were worrying about me, but I wasn't there tonight.”
“You were off tonight? Why didn't the school officials inform the fire department?”
“Aw, man, you're going to be upset with me. But I tried to call you earlier today. You were in a meeting.”
Monique remembered the call she'd declined while speaking with Lance. “Yes, right. You did call. To say what?”
“See, I sorta got caught up in a situation and wasn't able to make it to work by my start time. I was going to make up the hours, just go in later, that's all.”
“And you didn't call the school and say you'd be late?”
“My boss is cool like that. He knows I do good work, so he doesn't trip on what time I get there.”
Having already gone from worry to anger, Monique's ire went up a notch. “So what is this situation that had you so caught up that your phone died, and you couldn't recharge it until two in the morning?”
“Ah, Mo...”
“Don't âah, Mo' me. I've been worried sick! Where were you?”
A loud sigh came through the speakers. “I was over at my girl's house. She lives about a half hour from P.C. We fell asleep and whatnot, and when I woke up late, I figured I'd just get to the school whenever I got there and do my thing, you know? Like I said, I was going to put in the same hours, just a little later than usual. We heard about the fire on the news, but I didn't know y'all were looking for me. I apologize, Monique. You're one of the few who believes in me. I know you always have my best interest at heart and I'm sorry to have kept you up worrying about me.”
“I accept your apology,” she said, after a pause. “Have you called the police or the fire department?”
“Why would I do that?”
Again, Monique tamped down her ire. Someone of Devante's background had little use for law enforcement. “Never mind. I'll let them know you've been found so they don't spend any more time looking for you in the rubble.”
“Thank you.”
Monique turned into her driveway, emotional weariness adding to her physical state. “You're welcome. I'll talk to you later.”
* * *
The next morning, Monique sat at her table sipping a cup of tea. She'd been going through the motions of checking her email, but in actuality she'd been thinking about Niko and replaying their time together last night in her mind. Having had a fitful night's sleep, she'd finally gotten up at six-thirty, put in a couple of loads of laundry and then settled down for a half-hour phone conversation with her mother. Five minutes in and as much as she loved her mother, she'd regretted making the call.
“Good morning, Mom.”
“Morning, Monique. You're up early. Busy day ahead?”
“No rest for the weary.”
“Or, it seems, for those campaigning for public office. I hope you're taking care of yourself.”
“I am,” Monique said around a yawn.
“Perhaps you should have gone to bed earlier.”
“There was a fire here last night at Paradise Cove Elementary.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yes.” She shared what she knew with her mother. “Fortunately no one was killed or injured. But the damage is extensive. I'm sure it will go into the millions of dollars.”
“I'm sorry to hear about that and can understand your having to be on the scene. You know I support you, but becoming mayor, even of a small town, will be a huge responsibility. I wish you hadn't broken up with Rob and had a man there to support you.”
“The townspeople are all very supportive of each other. I'll be fine.”
“Rob loves you, Monique. And he's such a nice man.”
“Yes, he is, but the relationship is over and that decision is final.”
Monique knew that as far as her mother was concerned, any black man working was a good one. Having married at the tender age of twenty-two, her old-fashioned mother thought Monique an old maid. Her mother had liked Rob from the start, appreciated his Ivy League background and white-collar job. It was probably why she chose to stay in denial and not accept the fact that except for friendship, Rob was in Monique's rearview mirror.
“I sure hope this desire to enter politics doesn't have an adverse effect on your personal life,” Mrs. Slater continued. “In the event of your winning, I hope you'll reconsider your decision. Rob would be an excellent partner in your political lifestyle.”
“Rob and I will always be good friends. He's visiting this weekend and will join me Memorial Day weekend for a fundraiser in San Francisco.”
“That's great to hear! Give him a hug for me.”
“I will.”
This comment effectively satisfied her mother and they spent the rest of the conversation talking about family and her dad's early-retirement plans. During the call, she received a text from Rob confirming that he'd made his flight reservations. Monique made a mental note to prepare the guest room. She wanted to make sure that Rob understood that this was a platonic visit...not a romantic one.
* * *
At the respectable hour of 8:00 a.m., Monique reached for her cell phone and dialed Niko's number. He answered on the first ring. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, beautiful. Wait, I can call you
beautiful,
can't I, without fearing a charge of harrassment?”
“I don't know, Counselor. A word like that could be deemed inappropriate use with your equal, right along with ones like
sugar
and
dear.
”
“My apologies.”
“I don't hear one ounce of sorry in your voice.” Niko had elicited Monique's first true smile of the morning.
“But I've been properly schooled. Good morning, Monique.”
“I've got a busy day ahead of me and not long to talk, but I wanted you to know that I heard from Devante.”
“Excellent! When?”
“Last night, on my way home.”
“And you're just now calling?”
“I thought you might have been asleep and didn't want to wake you.”
“See, I told you he was okay. Was he there when the fire started?”
“No, thank God.”
“You really have a vested interest in this guy.”
“I have a soft heart for those who weren't blessed with the same type of upbringing as you and I.”
“An admirable trait, especially for someone running for public office.”
“You sound sincere.”
“I am. Bryce was right.”
“Bryce Clinton, your campaign manager?”
“That is correct.”
“Right about what?”
“When he found out you were running, he said I had my work cut out for me.” His voice lowered, remaining professional, but barely. “He was definitely right about that.”
An incoming call for Niko cut short the conversation. Monique hung up the phone and headed to the campaign office. During the less-than-ten-minute drive, she was keenly aware of two things: speaking with Rob never made her na-na tingle and talking to Niko always did.
Chapter 15
M
onique was thankful for the busy week she'd had, although one of the reasons annoyed her. During the fire investigation, some type of accelerant had been discovered, leading them to believe the fire may have been deliberate. They interviewed several people, including Devante. That in itself was not a problem. However, when they not only confirmed his alibi three times but also brought him to the station for further questioning, and then called his parole officer for further discussion, she felt they'd crossed the line. Devante felt he'd been profiled, and she couldn't blame him. Men with prison records were often prejudged. With no job and a bad attitude, and against her orders, Devante had gone back to L.A. She'd spent time she didn't have to track him down and get him placed in a home that met the rules for parolee residents.
The doorbell rang. She looked at her watch. Rob. Her busy week had made her almost forget his visit, as well. “Hey there,” she said, opening the door wide so that he could enter, and stepped into his outstretched arms. “Good to see you.”
He hugged her as though it had been two years instead of a few months since he'd seen her. “You're a sight for sore eyes.” His lips swept against her ear in a manner Monique was sure Rob meant to be sexy. Unfortunately for both of them, instead of heat she felt annoyance, his wet kiss feeling sloppy instead of scintillating, as was his goal.
She stepped back and crossed her arms.
“I'm sorry. Just friends, right?”
“Rob, I'll always care for you, but our being together romantically is over.” If he didn't understand this message, her next statement was crystal clear. “Let's take your luggage into the guest room.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, as he begrudgingly passed her master suite on the way to the spare bedroom.
“Yes, but not for dinner.”
Ignoring his comment, she replied, “Let's have a glass of wine before heading out. I know you'll love the salmon at Acquired Taste.” Without waiting for an answer, she walked out of the bedroom and down the hall.
Rob met her in the kitchen, where she was opening a bottle of chilled chardonnay. He leaned against the refrigerator, crossed his arms and watched her closely. “What's going on with you, Monique?”
Monique took a deep breath, reaching for wineglasses to gather her thoughts before she turned to face him. “The mayor's race is really heating up, and my numbers are growing. It's exciting yet stressful. Even with a campaign manager, the responsibility is huge.”
“This is too much for you to be doing alone.” Sincerity dripped from Rob's voice. Once again he moved in for a hug. Her look stopped him. “I'd move my practice in a heartbeat. Just say the word.”
It was the second time he'd suggested moving to Paradise Cove. She came precariously close to telling him the truth: that the thought of putting distance between them had aided in her decision to relocate in the first place. But she'd already hurt him enough. “I couldn't ask you to do that,” she said instead. “If I don't win the mayor's seat, there's no guarantee that I'll even stay in this town. In fact, I'm almost sure I'd return to L.A.”
She lifted her glass. “To what shall we toast?”
“To your mayoral victory, of course.”
They clinked glasses, then walked into Monique's small but tastefully appointed living room.
Monique sat in one of two accent chairs. “How's business?”
“Steady, growing. I'm planning to hire another accountant for the firm.”
“It's a testament to your skills that the company keeps growing, even in an economy that continues to be shaky.”
“Thanks, Monique. I appreciate that. Though I'd always envisioned my company expanding with you by my side.”
Monique took a sip of wine. There were no words to say. This past week had left her thoughts in shambles. Niko had turned her emotional world upside down, so much so that she had no idea of her personal future. She was certain, however, that it wouldn't conclude with Rob Baldwin. He was a good man, but she couldn't have kept denying her true feelings. Still, the thought of having hurt him made her sad.
Thirty minutes later they walked into Acquired Taste, one of Paradise Cove's two main restaurants. After a short wait they were escorted to a table. Seated at the center of the dining room were some of the finest citizens California had to offer. Holding court was none other than Niko Drake.
He saw her immediately and stood as she walked by the table. “Monique, hello!”
She stopped. “Hello, Niko. Gentlemen.”
“Let me introduce my family. You've met Ike Jr. and Warren.”
“Yes. Hi, guys.”
Various greetings rang out as the men stood.
“These are my cousins from Southern California, Dexter and Donovan Drake.”
Dexter and Donovan stood. “A pleasure to meet you,” they responded, shaking her hand.
“This is their brother-in-law, my cousin, Jackson Wright, and my brother Terrell.”
Jackson and Terrell stood and greeted her. All eyes turned to the man by her side.
“This is Rob Baldwin,” she said. “Rob, this is mayoral candidate Niko Drake.” Niko turned to shake hands. Even though he was only six feet tall, his solid structure seemed to dwarf Rob's five foot nine.
Monique watched Niko's eyes sweep her body before returning his attention to Rob. “Are you helping Monique with the campaign?”
“You could say that,” Rob responded before placing a possessive arm around her waist.
Niko's face remained passive. “I see.”
“Good to see you all,” Monique quickly interjected. “Have a nice evening.” Without waiting for an answer, she deftly removed Rob's hand from her waist and then turned to follow the waiter.
Silence descended like a curtain as soon as they sat down. Much like earlier in her home, Rob eyed her critically. “You seemed nervous back there.”
“Did I?” She reached for the water glass, gripping it firmly.
He noticed. “And now.”
“
Annoyed
is probably a better word. You purposely tried to give the impression that there was more between us than friendship. I'd like us to remain cordial, Rob. But if you continue to try to force a relationship where one no longer exists, then I'll have no choice but to cut ties with you altogether.”
“I apologize,” Rob answered after a lengthy pause. “It was a natural reaction after seeing how he looked at you.”
“Who?”
“Niko. It was definitely not as an adversary. Is there something going on with you two?”
“Rob, if we're going to enjoy this weekend together, and I hope we will, I think we should change the direction of this conversation.”
Another pause. Rob conceded. “Whatever.”
Their salads arrived, and Rob and Monique successfully steered the conversation to less volatile topics: climate change, politics and their mutual love of classical music that had them looking forward to the Silver Serenade. Monique breathed a sigh of relief when halfway through their entrée she saw the Drake men get up and leave. Normally bypassing dessert for health reasons, she indulged in the apple pie à la mode just to avoid the inevitableâgoing back to her home with Rob.
But finally, it had to happen. The ride home was quiet, the tension intense. They dressed for bed. “I'm going to turn in,” she said once they'd shared small talk and watched both the local and national news. “Towels and toiletries are in the bathroom cabinet. There's juice, water and snacks in the fridge. Make yourself at home. Good night.” She rose from the couch.
“Monique?”
“Yes?”
“I'm sorry for how I acted earlier after meeting Niko. We've been apart for months, but in my heart, you're still my lady. It's hard to adjust to being just your friend.”
“It is a big change, but also a necessary one.”
Neither of them realized it, but even bigger changes were just down the road.