Restrained Desire

Restrained Desire by Monique Lamont Restrained Desire/Monique Lamont / P a g e | 1 Noire Passion is an imprint of P...

Author: Lamont Monique

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Restrained Desire by

Monique Lamont

Restrained Desire/Monique Lamont / P a g e | 1

Noire Passion is an imprint of Parker Publishing LLC. Copyright © 2010 by Lawan Williams Published by Parker Publishing Inc 12523 Limonite Avenue, Suite #440-438 Mira Loma, California 91752 www.parker-publishing.com

All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, locations, events and incidents (in either a contemporary and/or historical setting) are products of the author’s imagination and are being used in an imaginative manner as a part of this work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, settings, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: XXXXXX First Edition Manufactured in the United States of America Cover Design by Parker Publishing Inc


Dedication For La-Tonya and Bryan and their angels in heaven. To my husband for every silent time you brought me a bowl of fruit, a glass of juice or a slice of pizza and set it beside me when I was on deadline, without me asking…I love you. To my little bear, BIG KISSES.


Acknowledgements “Andrea, we did it together, girl!” To every reader who read Fire and Desire and e-mailed me or said, “I can’t wait for the next one.” Here’s to you! Pricilla, my champion and friend who sent things to my daughter while I was deployed, thank you. To my critique partners, friends and family thanks for you support. To the wild woman, who’s as funny as she is smart, Jackie my editor, I appreciate your patience. Samantha “Sam” Berry, the coffee queen, thanks for the blended wisdom. To the night shift guys, ya’ll keep serving it up. To Pastor and 1st lady, your faith and support always stood without judgment. Chef Shawna B for your professional assistance, thanks. Finally, to my friend in Belgium, Pascha, who has bought and read everything I’ve ever written whether eBook or print and finished her first half marathon while I was writing this book... “Do yo than, girl!”

When a woman meets an everyday hero, her life is changed.


Chapter One Your aunt is dying. Those words were a continuous chant in Veronica’s head during the twenty-minute drive from her house to the hospital. Each time, it jarred her nerves as if she’d been given an electric shock. Even now, as she rode the elevator to the fifth floor, her heart slammed into her chest with fear of what was to come. Anxious thoughts, like rapid unrestrained intruders caused her skin to tighten, and her breathing to become laborious.

The metal doors opened and she rushed out onto the intensive care unit. Clutching her purse, she was vaguely aware of the constricted blood flow pumping in her hand. The nurse sitting behind the half moon shaped counter, glanced up from her charting and gave her a small smile. “May I help you?” Veronica stopped at the nurse’s station. “Where’s my aunt?” She wanted to scream. Instead she took a deep breath to calm her agitation. Speaking in a precise tone, she said, “I’m looking for Ms. Melvina Lane.” “And you are?” The nurse with the nametag that read Denise inquired. Weren’t nurses supposed to show a sense of urgency during emergency situations? Veronica had to take another deep breath. Getting upset with the nurse would not aid her in her quest. “Veronica Martinson.” The woman gave her a kindhearted smile that reached her eyes as she stood. “Ms. Martinson, Doctor Tavakoli has been awaiting your arrival. He asked for me to page him once you arrived.” “What happened? I want to see my aunt.” A chill crept up Veronica’s spine. Her hands felt as if someone stuck them in a bag of ice. Denise pulled the phone to her ear while she punched in a few buttons on the base. “The doctor will explain when he gets here.” Veronica folded her arms across her chest and paced in front of the desk, peeping in various room windows to see if she spotted her aunt. “Miss Martinson.”


Hearing a strong Arabic accent calling her name, Veronica turned. She spotted Dr. Tavakoli coming up the hall towards her as he clipped his pager to his hip. “Doctor, what’s wrong with my aunt?” Gingerly taking her by the arm, he moved her away from a waiting room filled with people into a small alcove next to a water fountain. “Ms. Lane was admitted earlier this evening.” There was an ominous tone to his voice. Veronica didn’t like it. “Why?” “She had pneumonia over the last week or so. It’s very common for people to have this and not know it. With the damage to your aunt’s lungs already from the cancer, she developed an infection. The home health nurse found her passed out in her bathroom.” “When did you find this out? Did you know this was possible when we had her check up two months ago following the chemo? You said… that she…. was…. fine.” She fought the emotions wanting to be released to the point of the strain causing her pain as it lodged in her throat. “It appeared that way. But, there are always ris--” “A-p-peared? You’re supposed to be a doctor. This is a hospital. Why didn’t you know? How could you tell us this now?” Veronica fired off questions as the tears began to spill from her eyes unchecked. “What do we have now? Six months? Three months of another treatment? What?” Dr. Tavakoli bent his head. Veronica could see his chest expand as he took a deep breath. Then his gaze rested on her face. “She has a day at the most.” Veronica’s knees buckled. If it weren’t for the wall behind her and the doctor’s quick reaction, she would have fallen to the floor. Pressing her hand to her mouth, she suppressed the uncontrollable surge of emotions on the verge of erupting. She had to remind herself her aunt would need her more than ever. She couldn’t be there for her if she gave into the feelings eating away at her heart. Using the back of her hand, she wiped the stream of tears trailing under her chin. “Why didn’t you call me when you first discovered this?


Maybe there would have been a chance to…” She gritted her teeth in disappointment, speaking to him in an accusatory voice, “Why now?” “I’m sorry, Veronica, but it was your aunt’s wish.” He paused, as if giving her a moment to absorb it. “I have to adhere to my patient’s wishes.” The use of her first name let her know that he was being open and sincere. “We fought the kidney cancer that had spread to her ovaries and part of her lungs. We can beat this.” He shook his head. “The fact of the matter is with the chemo and radiation therapy having been so recent any other invasive treatment would not be an option at this point. Your aunt’s body and her immune system are both too weak.”

Veronica’s ears burned. Sucked inside of a vacuum, silence and blackness surrounded her, as her mind focused on the faint sound of a distant ringing inside her head. She took a deep breath to steady herself, clearing her head. “I want to see her, now.” Without a word, Dr. Tavakoli led the way down the hall. Five doors away her aunt lay. Stopping at the door, the doctor turned to her. “She has only asked for enough medication to keep the pain at bay. In a little while the nurse will come in and give her something to help her rest more comfortably through the night.” Veronica gave him an empty nod, as he pushed the door open. She entered, barely hearing the soft catch of the door as it closed behind. She stood transfixed as she looked at her aunt lying in the hospital bed once again. The hum and beep of machines surrounding her filled the small room, as medicine and fluids dripped through intravenous tubes in an attempt to sustain her aunt’s life. Just three years ago, her aunt had been one of the strongest, most vibrant people she knew, now this. Again. Underneath the cover lay a small woman who could have only weighed seventy pounds soaking wet. Her short-cropped curls framing her face at one time having accentuated her features, now made it appear starker, ashen. It had just begun to grow back, its texture having changed from the chemotherapy, to baby soft silk. “Veronica baby, are you going to stand at that door until I pass or are you going to come speak to your old aunt?” Her aunt’s voice crackled with exhaustion as she pulled the oxygen away from her face.


Veronica was not shocked her aunt had felt her presence in the room. Auntie had always been perceptive. “You haven’t been old a day in your life, Auntie.” Veronica wiped the tears from her face, not wanting her aunt to see her sadness. Then moving to the side of the bed, pulling up a hard wooden chair, she was grateful someone had the foresight to place a cushion in the seat. Her aunt smiled and turned her head towards her. “Crying already, little girl?” Her aunt opened her eyes, her gaze traveled across her face. “You were always a beautiful child and so sweet.” Aunt Melvina lifted her trembling hand toward her cheek. Veronica reached out, taking her hand and pulled it against the side of her face. As much as she tried to stop them, the tears began again. “Why didn’t you tell me, Auntie?” She knew hurt laced her voice, but she didn’t try to disguise it. Having been there since the beginning with her aunt, she couldn’t understand why her aunt would deny her these moments. Her aunt’s soft knobby finger brushed her skin. “Oh, my baby girl,” she began, her voice raspy. “I didn’t do it to hurt you. You have so much on your plate and you have given so much of your time to me. Cared for me when I could not…care for myself.” Her aunt’s glassy brown eyes pierced her soul, pleading with her for understanding. “I knew this was it.” “I would do it again,” Veronica vowed. “You mean everything to me. My only fam--” Her voice broke. “I know, baby girl. I would have had nothing without--” Aunt Melvina’s face grimaced with pain, as one of her hands clutched the top fold of the blanket and the other squeezed Veronica’s hand. Assisting her aunt, Veronica gently slipped the nasal cannula back on her face. Her aunt gave her a thankful look as she took a few deep breaths until the pain subsided and her face relaxed. “Do you want me to call the nurse?” Veronica words tainted with concern. Auntie moved the cool oxygen away again. “No,” she whispered, her voice soft and breathless. “Because I just want these moments with you. If Denise comes, I’ll sleep and I’m not ready yet.” Veronica pressed her lips to the back of her aunt’s hand as


water ran unchecked from her eyes, down her aunt’s arm. “I don’t know what I would have done without you in my life,” her aunt confirmed. “You’re my mother’s sister, you would’ve always had me,” Veronica reassured her. Her mother and aunt were always close. If it hadn’t been for their bond Veronica didn’t know what would’ve happened to her after her parent’s death. During her childhood, Veronica remembered traveling down to South Carolina to her Aunt Melvina’s home during summers and holidays. So as not to cause more upheaval in her life, when her parent’s died her aunt took early retirement and relocated to Virginia. But, Veronica didn’t pity herself, with her aunt’s care and her parent’s love she’d made it through. Giving her a wistful smile, Aunt Melvina shook her head. “It wasn’t the same. You were fourteen when Stephanie and Robert died and you became my responsibility, my baby girl, my reason to live.” She was amazed how lucid and clear her aunt’s eyes appeared. “Auntie--” “Baby girl, I wanted so much for you.” Her aunt’s finger brushed her cheek again. Veronica smiled at her aunt. “I know. You always made sure I did my best in school, not allowing my grades to slip after my parent’s death. I don’t think I would’ve made it out of high school without you. You kept me on track. I just wanted to make you proud of me.” A tear rolled out the corner of her aunt’s eye onto the pillow beneath her head. “I am, baby girl. No mother could be more proud of her child’s career accomplish…-ment.” Her aunt took an abrasive breath and then spoke again. “Magna cum laude with your bachelors. Finishing your masters in record time with a four point average.” Her eyes closed for a moment then reopened slowly. “That hotel is going to take off…just wait and see.” “I want to be like you.” Veronica’s voice was nasally and thick, from the overflow of tears. “You were always so strong and confident, and independent. You made it to the top of that law firm and never looked back.” She had idealized her aunt. She dreamed


of growing up and being just like her, living life unencumbered. “My child, I looked back.” A fresh flood of tears descended from Aunt Melvina’s eyes. “When you’re lying in hospital beds and you become more familiar with the smell of medicine and cleaners.” Her aunt chuckled softly. “When you can even begin to smell the unscented laundry detergent on the sheet that covers your body, but never quite keeping you warm…I looked back.” “But your life was full. It was filled with joy--” “Only in what I had in you.” Her aunt cut her off. “No, auntie. You’ve accomplished more--” Her aunt squeezed her hands, silencing her. Veronica chided herself. Her aunt lay in the bed dying and didn’t have time for a debate. “I have been so wrong, baby.” Aunt Melvina brought her hand up from the coverlet and clasped Veronica’s hand as it held onto her other one. “I should’ve been more like your mother. I’m ashamed to say, I looked down on my older sister, because she gave up her career after she had you. She would try to explain to me about how her joy came from caring for you and your father.” Her aunt’s voice broke. “I didn’t understand…” Veronica’s shoulders shook as she silently cried. She sat next to her aunt and prayed for forgiveness. All of her life she had also, looked down on her own mother, for the same reasons. The cool soft touch of her aunt’s hand held her chin, lifting it until twin brown eyes met. The room was almost silent as their gaze locked on each other’s, the only sound in the room was her aunt’s heavy labored breaths. “Do not make my mistake, baby girl,” her aunt’s eyes implored hers. “Don’t get so caught up in your work that you miss out on the happiness of love…” A fit of coughing broke into her words. Veronica grabbed a handkerchief from the top of the nightstand handing it to her aunt, who promptly used it to muffle her coughs. Pulling her aunt into her arms, Veronica rubbed her back in an attempt to sooth her. When the coughing subsided, Aunt Melvina grabbed the forgotten oxygen tube, placing it over her face she inhaled a few rattling breaths.


Nurse Denise chose that moment to walk into the room caring a syringe. Placing a comforting hand on Aunt Melvina’s shoulder she asked, “How you doing? Are you okay?” Her aunt nodded a silent okay, then closed her eyes and relaxed. Denise rubbed Aunt Melvina’s shoulder and arm for a moment, observantly assessing her patient. Then turning toward the monitors, the nurse’s head moved around as she mentally tabulated the status of her aunt’s well-being. She then uncapped the needle and injected medication into a valve in the IV tubing. Returning to Aunt Melvina’s side, Denise’s cheeks pulled back into a warm smile. “That should help you become a little more comfortable and get some rest.” The nurse gave Veronica a brief nod, then pitched the syringe into the sharps container on the wall before she exited the room. After the months of being in hospitals with her aunt, she understood the nurse’s silent message. Denise had held off as long as medically possible before giving her patient stronger medication that would greatly reduce her pain and put her to sleep for the night. Veronica continued to stroke her aunt’s hand, allowing her aunt’s words to run through her mind unleashed, she would process them later. Leaning forward, Veronica placed a kiss on the side of her aunt’s brow and then resettled herself on the cushioned seat. Her eyes still closed, Aunt Melvina spoke softly, “These last few years have been no picnic. I am selfishly thankful you were here with me. If not for you I would have died alone...” her aunt’s voice drifted away as her breathing became heavy with sleep. Hours had come and gone. Veronica didn’t know how long she sat there speaking quietly to her aunt as she brushed her hand across her hair, when her aunt’s heart monitor sounded. Denise was the first to rush in, followed by two other nurses and Dr. Tavakoli. Veronica was expecting them to push her out of the way to begin the basic life support procedure. Pushing buttons on the monitor, Denise shut the alarm off, then stepped to the bed and began assessing Veronica’s aunt. Doctor Tavakoli picked up Aunt Melvina’s chart before the other two nurses stepped forward. He turned to them and shook his head.


“Why aren’t they doing something?” Veronica stood and asked vehemently, still not releasing her aunt’s lifeless hand. Doctor Tavakoli answered, his thick accent reverberating in the sterile room. “Your aunt made changes to her advance directive earlier this evening before I called you. She requested not to be resuscitated.” And when she stared at him, but didn’t speak, he clarified. “Your aunt asked that we not revive her upon death.” Cold chills of despair slid along Veronica’s spine, she began to tremble. Stepping closer to her, he placed a hand on her shaking shoulder. “My thoughts are with you and your family.” “My family…” Her voice was thick with emotion as her gaze moved from the Doctor’s deep olive features to her aunt’s paling face. Her voice croaked as she said, “My only family just died.” Her heart heavy in her chest, Veronica wanted to scream. First her parents, now her aunt. She had never been so alone. “Would you like us to send the chaplain up, Ms. Martinson?” Denise’s soothing voice inquired. Veronica didn’t look away from her aunt’s face as she shook her head. She didn’t need anyone to pray for her, she was more than capable of praying for herself. What she needed was someone to hold her and tell her she would be able to survive without her aunt in her life. “We’ll, give you some time,” Dr. Tavakoli said beside her, before he and the night shift nurses exited the room. Her feet were rooted to the floor. She gazed down on her aunt in shock. Cold chills crawled up her spine like fingers until she felt numb to the core. Her aunt had meant the world to her, always been her rock. To lose her without warning, after the years of struggling to sustain her life felt unfair. Leaning over, she kissed her aunt’s hollow cheek. “I love you, Auntie.” She finally let go of her aunt’s hand and placed it on the bed along side her body then turned and walked out. At the end of the corridor, she turned and took one look back, for a moment hoping to see her aunt walking out of the room, telling her that it all had been a bad dream. When the doctor and nurses filed out of Aunt Melvina’s room, their faces a mask of sadness, she knew this was her reality. Right now there was only one place she wanted to be. Only


one person could understand what she was going through and give her the support that she needed.


Chapter Two Mark lay in his recliner, finally giving in to the Sandman’s magic dust. He was exhausted and should have gone straight to bed an hour ago when he walked into his house from the hotel. The hotel. He sighed. It was a mess. Water flooded most of the first floor, not to mention an entire line of rooms from the ninth floor where the pipe had burst down. Thank God, the kitchen had been spared. Damage to such a sacred place was a chef’s nightmare. He didn’t want to consider what it would entail to replace all the appliances, supplies and have it ready for a health inspector before it could be utilized again. Four hours ago he had finally convinced Veronica to go home. One of them needed to be fresh and alert tomorrow to assess the damage with the insurance rep. He and two other employees moved the files in her office to a second floor room. The doorbell rang. Mark cracked his eyes open, peering over the back of his recliner at the offending front door. Glancing down at his watch, he spied the little hand on the three, big hand between the seven and the eight. Three thirty-seven. “Well, I don’t think it’s the paperboy,” he mumbled. If he had been seriously dating someone, or even casually dating someone, he would’ve been excited at the thought of a late night arrival. Unfortunately, it was doubtful that a long legged, sexy woman with bedroom eyes and a phone sex operator’s voice was standing on the other side of the door wanting to lie all night in his arms. Yeah, right, fantasies didn’t show up this late. Mark shook his head to clear it of the illusion and aimed the remote at the television, shutting it off. Fingers grazing through his short brown hair and then down the back of his neck as he unfolded his body from the lazy-boy and walked to the door. He paused a moment before opening it to glance into the peephole. Maybe dreams do come true. Quick, he unbolted the door and opened it.


“Veronica…” “She’s dead, Mark.” Her voice trembled moments before the dam broke. He didn’t have to ask who. There was only one person in the world whose death would cause Veronica to stand at his door in the middle of the night looking frazzled with tears streaming from her eyes. Mark did the only thing he could, open his arms. Veronica stepped across the threshold into them. The avalanche of her tears took over as her body shuddered and her knees gave way. “It’s okay, sweetness,” Mark cooed in her ear as he scooped her into his arms. Carrying her to the couch, he sat with her in his lap. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and held her. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with sadness. Mark hadn’t met Veronica’s aunt until their senior year in college, many years ago. It didn’t stop Melvina from welcoming him into the family. He and Veronica spent evenings out with her at different functions. He knew her aunt’s illness over the years had been hard for Veronica, but she never complained and never slacked off from work at the hotel. No matter how much he tried to get her to relax. Veronica was a workaholic and a perfectionist. At times a lethal combination. His worry for his best friend was constant. All work and no play were adding a strain to Veronica’s life. The thought of playing with Veronica sent his hormones reeling. Repeatedly, he had to convince himself how asinine it was to harbor a hidden desire for her, knowing it was a slim chance they were going to be reciprocated. Hell, his feelings for her already cost him a marriage, what else was he willing to risk? But, he couldn’t lie to himself. Many times, too numerous to count, he’d awakened with dreams of he and Veronica making love. He continued to caress Veronica’s back. Sliding his hand over the warm silk material covering her spine caused his palm to tingle. As her head rested on his chest, Veronica’s hair occasionally brushed his chin. Traces of the shampoo and oils she used were evident to Mark as he reached up and stroked her locs.


He was always grateful for any reason to touch her. Her crying subsided to a low murmur. “What happened?” he asked, breaking the silence. Sitting up, she moved off him and pushed her hair back. She pulled at her shirttails endeavoring to straighten out the day old wrinkles. Giving up she began looking around as she rubbed the back of her hands across her cheeks. Never unkempt, Veronica’s personal motto. Mark sighed. Then rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen, removing several paper towels from the roll under the top cabinet, he returned to the living room. Veronica was searching through her purse when he entered. “Here you go.” He reclaimed his seat and held out the disposable napkin. “Thanks.” She gave him a shy watery smile. Returning her semi smile, Mark relaxed and waited. After cleaning her face, she leaned back beside him, her head resting against the back of the couch. “I just came from the hospital.” She spoke softly as she gazed in the direction of his dark television watching their shadows in the screen. “When did you take her to the hospital?” He glanced down at his watch. “You just left the hotel barely over four hours ago.” Coffee colored eyes met his hazel ones. “She was already there.” “What?” Mark turned, placing one knee against the back of the couch so he could face her. “My aunt’s home nurse found her in the bathroom on the floor.” Coal colored thin rope like strands cascaded over her face as Veronica bowed her head. Mark’s fingers itched with a desire to brush them back. “Why didn’t she call you? The nurse should have known you would’ve wanted her to call. ” Veronica’s hands did it for him as she shoved her locs behind her ear and looked at him. “Except my aunt didn’t want her to call me.” That bit of news took him by surprise. Veronica had been with her aunt through cancer treatment and would’ve been there again without question. The grief shadowed Veronica’s face as her eyes darkened and


the corners of her mouth bowed. “I don’t understand, Roni.” Had this been a lighter time, Veronica would have corrected him instantly about the nickname. No Roni, Ver, Nica or any other shortening of her name. She detested nicknames. She was Veronica, simply Veronica. She looked back at her hands as they fiddled with the corner of the towel. “Neither did I. I asked Aunt Melvina to clarify.” Brushing a stray tear away, Veronica continued, “She said she was tired. That she knew this was it for her and she just wanted peace.” Placing his arm around her shoulder, Mark pulled Veronica toward him resting his chin on the crown of her head. “Mark, I always knew this day would come, but…” She sighed unable to complete the words. “It still hurts like hell,” he finished. “Yes,” she confirmed with a whisper. Her renewed tears dampen his shirtfront as he rocked Veronica in his arms. The unladylike snorts and the occasional quake of her body as she attempted to restrain herself from the grief pressing for release. His Veronica. To composed to let go. “It’s okay, sweetness. Let it out.” Like a waterfall, Veronica’s sorrow tumbled out again. Mark’s heart ached as he experienced her mourning second hand. He did the only thing he could, held her and allowed her to grieve. **** Now is not the time. Mark chided the member of his body beginning to stiffen. It was seven o’clock in the morning and his manhood was responding rapidly to Veronica’s curves pressed against his. Sometime during the early morning, they both had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Her fingers flexing against his chest had awakened him ten minutes ago. Initially, he thought it was a dream, except for the feel of her butt cheek cupped in one of his hands. Not to mention the other hand that was precariously close to her lush breast lying cushioned along the side of his torso. Closing the deal was the situation with the hard-on the size of Montana


assuring him it was no dream. Ten minutes of pure hell and torturous pleasure. He was very aware of the fact that if he raised his thumb, he would be able to not only caress the swell of her breast but stroke her nipple also. Were they responsive? Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, Mark attempted to think of icebergs, cold winter streams and snow capped mountains. Anything to bring his body under control. But it wasn’t working. His mind only perverted the images, showing him vivid scenes of his and Veronica’s heated bodies bringing each other warmth as they made love by streams and in igloos. Dangerously, his erection increased. Damn. Mark groaned. Unable to resist, he leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead. It was the same kiss he frequently bestowed on her since they became close in college. His signature kiss. The one that lasted four seconds exactly, the time it took for him to tell her he loved her in his mind. The way he wanted to say it. Not the friend way that took two seconds, dropped the I and changed the ou to an a. Veronica stirred in her sleep, sliding her hand from his chest to his abdomen. Five inches away. Four… Three… Two… Her palm stopped just below the indention of his navel. Ah, hell. He had to get up before he embarrassed himself. One major organ protested his decision. At that moment, his body would have given up breathing to have her touch him. He wanted to know the feel of her hand clutching his length and stroking him to satisfaction. Even better he would love to slide Veronica’s slacks down her hips and settle himself between her toned thighs, feeling her warm slick heat surrounding him. Not today, buddy. He told the steel rod trapped inside his pants.


Slow as he could manage, without awakening her, he tried to slide his body from underneath Veronica, inching himself off the couch. She stretched. He froze. Barely balancing himself on the edge of the couch he stared at her. Her brown eyes opened and met his. Sleepy, sexy. The sight of smooth chocolate colored skin and pouty full lips stirred his blood to a higher degree. He watched as her gaze went from a dreamlike state to confusion. “Mark?” The single word sounded husky and intimate. Not helping. No woman’s voice in the morning should sound that full of passion. “Good morning, sleeping beauty. Feeling better?” Mark watched as Veronica’s pupils dilated with understanding and remembrance. She closed her eyes and sat up, burying her face in her hands. He used the time wisely, pulled a throw pillow into his lap and pushed himself back to a more secure seated position. “No.” Dropping her hands, she frowned at him. Silence stretched between them before she said, “Thank you.” “Anytime.” Reaching his hand out, he tugged one of her locs attempting to ease the varying degrees of tension between them. “If you need me to drive you home so you can get some rest I can.” She rose. “Rest.” Veronica gave a dry laugh. “I don’t have time for rest. I need to make the arrangements for my aunt.” Running her fingers down her slacks attempting to hand press out the telltale sleep creases, she said, “Not to mention we still have a quarter of a hotel underwater.” Giving up on the pants, she moved toward the back of his apartment. A single room condo, the only bathroom located in his bedroom, but with a guest entrance from the hall. “You can’t be serious.” He followed behind her. “I can handle the issues at the hotel for today while you take some time.” Stopping at the door she flicked on the bathroom’s fluorescent light. “Very serious. Do you have an extra toothbrush?” “Under the sink.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared into the bathroom observing her as she kneeled before the sink. “Roni, your aunt just died. It’s okay to mourn.”


His words struck a nerve. Veronica’s back straightened instantly as if someone had shoved a steel rod down her spine. She rose from her stooped position under the sink with a store wrapped green toothbrush in her hand and locked gazes with him. “First of all, Mark. I’m well aware of the fact that my aunt has passed away. However, I still have a business to run.” Using angry jerks, she tore the plastic away from the brush and tossed it into the trash. “Secondly, don’t call me Roni.” She pushed the door shut until the soft click punctuated her words and sealed her away from him. Frustrated on multiple levels, he walked into the kitchen to make some coffee. Potent and black, just like his best friend. Just like the woman he loved. Unfortunately, like peanuts, Veronica was something he could never have. A sample forbidden to him. Something he would always yearn for a taste of but could never indulge in. Pouring Arabian Mocha Sanani coffee beans into the grinder, he waited and then scooped the coarse grains into the French press. Sifting cinnamon over the grounds, filling the glass container with steaming hot water, he closed the top and stirred. Setting it to the side, he allowed it the minutes it would need to steep and release all the flavors. Since college, Veronica had always been attracted to men of her own race. She wasn’t interested in dating outside of her ethnic group. He was sure of that fact even though she’d never said it to him. However, he’d lost count on how many times in college he’d come upon her and her girl friends talking about what type of man they wanted to fall in love and settle down with. The list always started with the man being of darker shades then him. He couldn’t fault Veronica for loving the men of her own race. Hell, her dedication to her own ethnicity and culture were one of the things he loved most about her. However, it grated against his nerves that she wouldn’t even ponder the possibility of someone else. Even though her perfect black specimen hadn’t come along, she still wouldn’t look beyond their friendship and see how much he cared about her. He wondered if she even considered why he’d stuck around for so many years, especially with them being


opposites on so many fronts. Hell, if she knew the truth about his marriage and why it had ended, would she even care? Just as the coffee finished and he began pouring the hot liquid into two mugs, Veronica came strolling out of the bathroom and down the short hallway. Clothing still crimped, but her face held a fresh early morning glow. She had somehow managed to pull her shoulder length locs into a sophisticated knot on the top of her head. Reminding him of obsidian silk, she was strikingly beautiful and captivating. She never ceased to amaze him. “Since you’re determined to be stubborn, I figured you might need a strong cup of coffee to fortify you for the day ahead.” Taking the cup, she smiled. “I’m going to ignore your comment and say thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Holding his own cup between his hands, Mark leaned onto the counter balancing his upper body on his elbows, watching her. Veronica sipped her coffee. Black. No sugar. No cream. Another affirmation of the men she liked. “Mmm, this is amazing.” The corners of her smile peaked above the cup in front of her mouth. “An African Arabian blend, glad you like it.” Holding his mug under his nose, he allowed the robust, smooth cocoa, extra bold aroma to soothe his arduous thoughts. “What?” she asked, noticing his gaze. Instead of letting her in on his thoughts, he said, “I wish you’d reconsider. You need the rest.” Taking several quick drinks of the hot liquid, she set the mug on the breakfast bar. “I wish you’d give it a rest. I’m fine.” Turning away from him, she strolled into the living room and grabbed her purse. Mark shook his head. At times like this, he wished he could place her under house arrest. Make her relax. “I’ll see you at the hotel.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks for last night as well.” “You always have a place in my arms.” Mark didn’t allow his eye contact to waiver. Attempting to communicate to her the same message over the past year, I love you and will always be here for


you. “What would I do without a friend like you?” Veronica gave him a kiss of her fingertips and waved them, then walked out of his front door. The knife plunge deeper into his heart. Stepping over to his window, he watched her strut to her car, making sure she was safe. Once she was in and driving away, he allowed his curtain to fall back in place. Padding along the carpet to his bathroom, he turned on the water for his shower. Well over two years ago his marriage had ended. He’d just finished convincing himself that his feelings for Veronica were futile and he needed to let her go and stop looking around every corner expecting to see her. Regardless of those words he’d left Northern, Virginia and Laverne and relocated to Virginia Beach. A week after that decision Veronica had called him, asking if he wanted to open a hotel with her like they’d always dreamed about in college. Now here he was hopelessly in love with a woman who saw a neon sign that flashed ‘friend’ every time she looked at him. Staring at himself in the mirror, he said, “Mark, you’re pathetic.” His mind knew his words were true, but he heart urged him not to give up hope.


Chapter Three Standing beside the casket where her aunt lay inside, prepared to be put to rest, Veronica pulled the black trench tighter around her body. It was still the middle of winter. Spring had held off as long as it could this year. The funeral attendees had left a while ago. They were a small gathering of just her aunt’s close friends and the people she had worked with for years before the cancer had set in. The only person still there was Mark, standing silently beside her. She couldn’t pull herself away. Veronica had no illusions that the body shell that lay in the fancy box wasn’t her aunt. She knew her aunt’s spirit had moved on to its final resting place at the hospital, but this was her last connection. However, realistically, she knew it was time to go. Time to say good-bye. Looking down at the white rose with its blue tips, Aunt Melvina’s favorite color, she remembered her aunt’s final words a week ago. How Melvina spoke about being alone. The emptiness of her own life caused a hollow ache in the pit of Veronica’s gut. She had been ignoring the feeling during the last few days, but the truth was hard to resist when it stared you in the face. I would be the only person in the yard if it wasn’t for Mark. No husband. No children. Karen was out of town at a mandatory conference. Tiffany was on temporary bed rest. Taking a deep breath, Veronica gave a quick prayer and then kissed the rose before stepping forward and placing it on the casket. The prayer wasn’t for her aunt. Her aunt was probably sipping sweet tea with Peter on the other side of the pearly gates by now. The entreaty was for herself. That she would be okay without her aunt. “I’m ready to go now.” She spoke in a quiet tone, respecting the place they stood. Mark pulled her into his arms and gave her a tight hug. “Everything will be okay.”


Like a cocoon, Mark’s warmth made her instantly think of security, strength and home. She had no doubt that those feelings rose to the surface because of his constant friendship. He was ever faithful. She couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without him. Since their third year of college, they’d stuck together like glue. As different as they were, it boggled most people’s minds how they were so close. Nevertheless, she and Mark accepted each other for their differences and didn’t question the reason behind their relationship. It just was. Pushing back from his warm embrace, she said, “I know.” With an arm around her shoulder, he began leading her towards his waiting wolf grey Expedition. “So, do you want me to take you home?” She shook her head. “Nope. To the--” “Hotel.” Mark’s words were a sigh, as he finished her sentence. Veronica knew it bothered Mark that she spent so much time in the hotel office. She couldn’t rest until their business was in the black. They had sunk everything they had into restoring this hotel and she wasn’t going to allow them to fail. Regardless of how many floods that happened. “Yes. I’ll even treat you to lunch.” She bumped her body against his. Mark’s steps didn’t falter. Chucking, he said, “That’s very gallant of you, considering I’m the Chef.” Placing a hand on her chest, Veronica pretended offense. “I was personally going to cook our lunch.” “Yikes.” A look of horror crossed his face. “Then we’ll need to stop at the store to pick up several bottles of the pink stuff.” Her elbow found a spot in his ribs. Grunting, Mark performed an exaggerated limp all the way to his truck. Veronica’s laughter, echoed across the soulless yard. **** “Ms. Martinson, you’re hotel has extensive damage from the flood.” Dwayne Stevens pushed his small-rimmed glasses up the


bridge of his nose as he peered around the ballroom. She had pushed this appointment back two weeks after her aunt’s death. He stomped his little Dockers Bastille heel into the hardwood floor. “The renovations to this floor alone will cost thousands. Not to mention the electric, plumbing, installation dama--” “Are we covered?” Veronica interrupted the inspectors rambling. She didn’t need an account of all the things currently wrong with her hotel, she’d already tabulated that with a contractor. A peevish expression tightened his features. “No, Ms. Martinson, I’m sorry to say you are not.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Then why do we pay insurance in the first place if it doesn’t help in crisis such as these? I read the contract, your company is supposed to cover.” Crossing her arms over her chest to constrain her emotions, she waited for the man’s response. Dwayne cleared his throat. “Ms. Martinson, with a hotel located on the beach your insurance protects you against storm damage, tidal flooding, structural or foundation damage due to ground shifting. It usually pays for situations such as these once you cover the deductible.” His sigh was heavy and loud. “However, you and Mr. Latten’s establishment had been abandoned for years and were almost on the condemned list when you purchased it.” Placing her hands on her hips, she stiffened her neck so as not to give him a much needed sistah neck roll. “Yes, the building was in a bad way when we bought it. But, it was fully operational when the pipe burst.” He shrugged. “But, it needs to pass two years of building inspections for your status to lift. So, we can only pay you for a small percentage.” He opened up his black leather portfolio, scratching a few notes on to the pad. Probably sealing our fate. The beginnings of a headache started to throb in the center of her forehead. “The good news in all this...” Snapping the executive style folder together, he slipped his pin inside his suit jacket pocket. “Like I told you last year when you bought it, the foundation in


this hotel is impeccable. If it had been altered, it could’ve been a lot worse.” Dwayne had the nerve to smile as if his words should’ve been comforting to her. She gave him a tight grin in return. “Yeah, but better news would’ve been the funds we need.” She held her hand out to him. “Thanks.” Instead of taking her hand, he took a small step toward her. “If I could change my assessment, I would.” She didn’t miss the lowering tone of his voice. I know he isn’t coming on to me? “I understand you have to do your job.” Veronica stepped back and extended her hand to him once again. “Yes, I do.” He grasped her hand and held it. “Miss Martinson, I heard about your loss and I must say…I experienced the same thing just last year when my mother passed.” He probably lived with her or at least spent every waking moment answering to her beck and call. “If you need someone to talk,” he continued. “Or take your mind off your pain. I’m here for you.” Dwayne squeezed her fingers. It had been a few weeks since her aunt had passed and she admitted silently to herself that there was a void in her life and she got lonely at times. Her aunt had left her with words that haunted her. But, was someone like him the one to close the whole? She took a moment to assess the man extending her the offer of comfort. She loved brotha’s, but Dwayne Stevens stood below her eye level at a resounding five-seven to her five eleven. To his advantage, he was a brown-skinned man with smooth skin momentarily taking away the queer attraction to his bug eyes peering behind his wire-rimmed glasses. The drawback to him was his narrow shoulders and sweaty hands. Thoughts of how her friend Karen would have worked this and the situation to her advantage entered her mind. Karen would have had the man on the floor and his face between her legs in no time, making him prove his devotion. Karen wasn’t the one to give up a free ride. Stifling her laughter, Veronica shook her head. Even with her mind weighed down with decisions she needed to make for her own future, dating him wasn’t only a no, but it was a hell


no. Not even to get more money for her hotel. Subtle, so as not to offend his ego or make him remove the small bit of change the insurance company was providing to Great Escapes, she slipped her hand free of the warm pool of moisture in Dwayne’s palm. Stifling the urge to rub her hands against her pants to dry them, she began, “Mr. Stevens, I appreciate your offer of friendship, but at the moment I’m really trying to focus all of my attention on the Great Escapes. I’m not looking to start any new relationships at this time.” Giving him a direct look, she lowered her voice and allowed flattery to soften her words. “Being an intelligent businessman as well, I’m sure you can understand.” Dwayne’s Adam’s apple did a quick bob as an awkward chuckle came from his lips. “Yes, I can, Veronica.” Exit stage left. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from your work any longer. I’m sure we both have things on our plates.” He straightened his tie. “Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.” “See you around, Mr. Stevens.” Giving her one last smile, he pivoted and departed the premises. She rolled her eyes toward the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and allowed a hard sigh to come from her lips before leaving the ballroom. How are we going to come up with the money? **** Mark walked into one of their hotel’s two executive suites where they had moved Veronica’s office until the repairs were complete. Midnight legs, the color of an African desert sky and appearing as smooth and inviting as Egypt’s silk balanced in Mark’s line of sight. Without looking up, he knew it was Veronica. He’d be able to recognize those legs standing on the seat of a chair, anywhere. Since meeting her, he’d made a practice of observing her. She had small ankles, shapely calves perfect for a man’s palms and amazing full thighs on her slim frame that just dared a man to


come inside. His eyes were drawn higher by the part of her body that beckoned him the most, her hips and rear-end encased in a navy blue skirt. They were round and graceful as if they’d been shaped inside of a man’s wet dream. His wet dream. Fantasy flitted through his mind of pulling her down off her pedestal and carrying her over to the desk and sliding that tempting skirt up her legs until his eyes could behold every hidden secret kept beneath the material. He desired to bow between her thighs and get drunk on the heady scent of her honey essence. Every fiber of his being pulsed with life as he pondered how her sex would look swollen and glistening with her arousal. Biting down on his lip, Mark attempted to gain control of his wayward thoughts. He’d always yearned for Veronica, but over the last few months since they’d gone into business together his feelings were beginning to be unbearable. As always, he questioned himself for his torturous thoughts. Running his fingers through his hair, he chided himself for standing there like a cat waiting for a bowl of cream. And I’d know just where to find it. “Ahh,” Veronica called out as she lost her balance and knocked him out of his thought. He crossed the few feet to reach her. Arriving by her side just as the chair rolled from underneath her and she proceeded to topple backwards. With barely an inch to spare Mark pulled her securely into his arms. The impact of her slender form barely caused him any strain to hold her. Veronica wrapped her arms around his neck with a death grip. “My hero,” she said, slightly winded from the fall. “Every woman should have a strong Superman around.” Just like Superman, he’d never get his Lois Lane. He groaned internally, but chuckled aloud at her antics and displayed a stern look on his features. “What are you doing, sweetness?” Relaxing her grip around his neck, she pulled the object in her hands before his face. “Changing the light bulb.” “We do have a maintenance staff for that.” Pushing against his chest she slid from his arms. He would have loved her to stay where she was, but with no


other choice, he let her go. “I know, but it seemed such a simple task to involve them on, especially with all of the repairs needed from the flood.” Walking away she moved to the desk and propped herself against the edge. Shifting his weight off center, he placed his hands on his hips and continued his lecture. “Roni, if you would’ve called them, maybe they’d have told you about the ladder in the hall closet.” He watched her roll her eyes. “I would’ve been perfectly fine had the chair not decided it wanted to take flight.” “Woulda, shoulda, coul--” “Are you going to change the light bulb or lecture me? Because we do have a meeting to get underway.” With a sweet smile on her lips, she held the bulb out toward him. “You know, sweetness, one of these days you’re going to find yourself cuffed and turned over some guy’s knee who’ll give that sassy behind of yours just what it needs to keep you in line.” **** Why the thought of Mark’s statement, gave her vivid images and sent heat running down her spine, she would never know. She was a control freak, by nature and practice. The last thing she wanted to do was give that control away by allowing someone to restrain her. Her headache continued to beat a steady rhythm above her eyes. Deciding to ignore the beads of sweat popping up between her breasts, she moved to the desk and focused on their meeting at hand. She grabbed her clipboard, five sheets of paper filled with the notes she jotted down after her meeting with the building inspector. The meeting earlier hadn’t gone at all as she’d hoped. “We ready to get this meeting going?” Gabriel Jones, the hotel manager strutted into the suite, portfolio in hand. His office behind the front desk hadn’t received any water damage along with the other half of the hotel. “Hey, Gabe.” Mark climbed down from the ladder and dusted his hands off. “Give me a sec to put this ladder away then we can get started.” Looking from the metal steps to Mark, Gabriel asked, “So,


have you thrown down your apron to pick up a hammer?” A broad smile stretched Mark’s lips. “Nope, Ms. Boss Lady decided she wanted to put down her pen and become custodial services all while trying to break her neck.” Her manager glanced in her direction then shook his head. Veronica shrugged a shoulder even though she knew his expression didn’t call for an answer. The last thing she needed was another protector. Mark took up that position well. Gabriel turned back to Mark and asked him something about the soon to come baseball season. Veronica watched the interaction between the two men. They’d become friends from the day Gabriel had begun working for Great Escapes, both sports lovers. A month before she’d opened the hotel doors over a year ago, Gabriel had answered her ad on Monster.com about needing a hotel manager. He had worked in the hotel business since he was sixteen and had completed his bachelors in hotel management, but none of the larger hotels on the beach had any positions open. Refusing to move his family out of the Tidewater area, he’d maintained his job at the Hilton Oceanfront as an assistant manager. Gabriel was what her and her girl friends would call a five point star man. He was black, attractive, educated, and financially responsible and above all a gentleman. At six three, with dark brown skin and sporting a sharp edged fade that tapered into sideburn and a trim beard, there wasn’t an arrogant bone in Gabriel’s body. Her manager would have been the perfect catch if another sistah hadn’t already swooped him up. He loved his wife Regina and their twin five-year-old boys. Interrupting the two men and their sports talk, which could go on for hours, she said, “Gabriel, we’re going to use the dinning room table. It’ll give us more room.” She crossed the carpet to the four-person table and placed her notes on the high polished wood. Mark left the room. Gabriel sat in the seat to her left. “I saw the insurance man leave with a little pep in his step, is that good for us?” Pep in his step? Please, Lord, tell me I didn’t give that man hope in some way. “I’m not sure why he was high stepping. It didn’t have to do with the Great Escapes.” “Not the hotel?” Mark walked back into the executive suite


and closed the door behind him. “No.” She shook her head. She noticed the raising of Mark’s eyebrow as he claimed the chair across from her. Ignoring the unspoken question, she began, “Supposedly, in the insurance agreement when a business has been vacant as long as Great Escapes and on the verge of being condemned even after renovations are made that bring it up to code there’s a two year probation period.” “Because of situations such as this?” Gabriel added. “Exactly.” “They’re not going to give us a dime for repairs?” Mark frowned. “Oh, no, Mark, they’re going to give a few dimes. Just no quarters or dollars to really do the major constructions.” She told them the amount Dwayne quoted her. Mark shook his head. “Damn.” Gabriel looked between the two of them. “So, what’s the plan bosses?” “Simple. We need money. Quickly,” Mark said. “In a month or so, this beach is going to be crawling with people who live in the Tri-cities area.” “And shortly after that with tourist from other states.” Gabriel nodded. “Calls have already started to come in with people booking for the spring and summer holidays.” The conversation around the table fell silent for a moment, everyone in their own thoughts. Veronica looked down at the information on her tablet. She knew of a way they could have a large amount of money for the hotel. It was her option number two after the insurance company. “I know where we can possibly get some of the money.” Mark spoke first. “Going door to door selling candy?” Gabriel asked. Mark laughed. She smiled. Her manager was always upbeat. “I entered a Food Challenge.” Mark leaned back in his chair. “The one in Florida where they build the candy and cakes?” Gabriel exclaimed in amazement. “Yes, except for it’s not at Disney, but in South Beach at the Ritz Carlton. No treats or dessert sculptures either.” Turning, Mark winked at her and smiled.


She gave him a smile in return, knowing he was talking about her sweet tooth. “Nice. Make sure you check out the competition while you’re there.” Gabriel added. “Yea, right.” Mark chuckled. Mark took the words right out of her mouth. They all realized they weren’t anywhere near the Ritz Carlton’s status. Gazing across the short table, she observed her friend. Mark was an excellent chief. He was creative and adventurous with foods. Last year he had won Tidewater chief of the year even though their restaurant had not been open the full year. People came from miles around to try his culinary dishes. The contest would be right up his alley. “I knew you applied for it, but when did you find out you’d gotten in?” she asked. His hazel eyes met hers. “Last week.” “When’s the big day?” Gabriel question drew both their attentions. “The contest isn’t until late July.” Mark shrugged. “The prize is ten thousand dollars.” Gabriel whistled. Veronica rubbed her temples. Her head was really beginning to throb. “The money’s great.” Mark leaned forward placing his elbows on the table. “Only problem is that even if I win we’ll miss the summer rush.” Silence hovered around the table. Veronica was aware that the men sitting in the room with her knew that Great Escapes needed the summer sales to get them out of the red. They had barely been open a year and even though business had been steady they hadn’t begun to see any great profits yet. “So, even if Mark wins. The money won’t be here in time. So, what now?” Gabriel turned his head from one side to the other as if awaiting someone to serve in a tennis match. She had a solution to their problem. Even though she had desired to do something else with her funds, however, since the insurance for the hotel wouldn’t fund even half of the repairs, they’d have to come out of pocket. Taking a deep breath, Veronica blurted out, “I plan to use the money my aunt gave me in her will.”


“The hell you will!” Mark barked. Taken back by her friend’s unexpected outburst, she stared at Mark. Gabriel was doing a fine amount of staring of his own. “Excuse me? It’s my money, Mark.” She folded her arms under her breasts. As co-owner Mark had a right to his say. But, she was beginning to get upset, so he better say something quick. Sometimes he took his guardian role too far. Rubbing a hand down his face, Mark looked as if he were attempting to calm himself. “Roni, the money is yours. You and I have already placed most of our own personal savings into this hotel. I would do it all over again, but, I think we need to find another way of bring in a quick lump sum before we fall on what’s convenient.” She didn’t miss his use of her nickname. Staring into green eyes with brown flakes she understood. It wasn’t good business practice for them to sink personal funds into a company. She knew that, she just felt as if she were running on empty and didn’t want to fail. “Either of you guys have a more immediate suggestion?” Gabriel tapped his pen on his tablet as he thought. “How about a fundraiser?” “It would have to raise a significant amount of money so we can begin repairs.” Nibbling on her bottom lip, Veronica considered some ideas. Every now and then she jotted some things down. Mark stood up and began pacing behind his chair. Use to being in the kitchen and moving non-stop, her friend found it hard to remain seated for long. “Roni.” Veronica gave her eyebrow a distinctive lift as she glanced up from her notes at Mark. One Roni a day was all she would allow. Winking, Mark smiled broad and the dimple in his left cheek to show. “Veronica, why don’t you give Tiffany a call. This kind of thing is right up your friend’s alley.” “Who’s Tiffany?” Gabriel’s brow scrunched. “The last governor’s daughter.” Mark supplied. “You mean the Tiffany Hatcher.” Gabriel’s eyes were wide and lit up. Nodding, Veronica said, “The one and only. She’s a consultant and owns a party planning business with another friend


of mine.” Gabriel turned toward Mark. “I tell you, Tiffany Hatcher used to be my dream wife. Tall leggy with a beautiful smile, she stole my heart.” “Yeah, it’s hard to resist a beautiful black woman with long legs and a smile.” Mark stared down the table at her. Shaking her head at the two men allowing their hormones to run amuck, she pulled them back in. “You all don’t want Trevor to hear you fantasize about his wife.” “Hey, I’m not afraid of Trevor, but I’m terrified of Regina.” Laughter erupted around the room, Gabriel continued, “All bets were off for Tiffany when I met my wife. When you love a woman, no one else compares.” “Amen to that.” Mark mumbled. She noticed his hands gripping the back of his vacant chair. His eyes were distinct as he stared across the room not really looking at anything. Veronica wondered if Gabriel’s words had stirred feelings Mark held for his wife. He and his ex-wife Laverne had dated during their senior year in college and after he completed a degree in culinary management they had married. It didn’t last more than a year and shortly there after they divorced. She and Mark were best friends, but Laverne’s leaving him had never been up for discussion. “Well before you two start church in here. We’ll adjourn this meeting until I talk with Tiffany.” She stacked up her papers. “I’m sure she’ll know something that is quick and beneficial to the hotel.” “Sounds great to me,” Mark confirmed. Rising, she walked back to the desk and deposited her things. Grabbing her purse out of the second drawer, she said, “I’ll be back in an hour or so. I have an appointment.” Mark met her at the door and took hold of her arm, worry etch in his features. “Anything I should be concerned about?” he spoke in low tones. She glanced over his shoulder and noticed Gabriel still sitting at the table scratching out notes. She returned her gaze back to Mark. Ever since her aunt’s passing he’d been watching her like a hawk. “No, nothing. I’ll be back.”


Before he could question her further, she left. Mark stared at the closed door. He was truly beginning to worry about her. All the secretive “meetings” and “appointments” she went to lately, made him wonder if she was dating someone. Clenching his fist, he took a deep breath to calm himself and prayed that wasn’t the case.


Chapter Four “Veronica, every thing looks great.” Dr. Rodriguez stepped away from her and moved toward the sink. Veronica lowered her legs out of the cold metal stirrups and pulled the paper gown over her legs. “So, I shouldn’t have problems conceiving?” Depositing the latex gloves in the trash, the gynecologist looked over her shoulder at Veronica. “No, you should be fine. At twenty-seven you’re in great shape and health to have a baby.” Relief washed over Veronica as she clutched the gown closed over her breast. Never having considered having children until recently, she was amazed how worried she was that she wouldn’t be able to become pregnant. Only having been with one guy, one time, she’d never even taken birth control pills. This whole idea of carrying a child was new to her. However since her aunt’s final words, evidence of her empty life had begun to haunt her. “That’s good to hear.” Smiling, Dr. Rodriguez dried her hands then headed toward the door. “When you’re finished, come into the office and we’ll discuss your options.” “Great. I’ll be right there.” She watched the gynecologist on staff at the Building Families fertility clinic exit the room. When the door closed behind the doctor, she hopped off the table and began getting herself together. She was never a fan of her yearly vaginal exams and this one in its intrusive manner hadn’t warmed her heart either. But, the fact that it would lead to her having a baby made it tolerable. A week ago she’d made this appointment and at least twice she’d picked up the phone and started dialing the number to cancel. Am I crazy? Do I really want to burden my life with a child? She’d asked herself questions about her decision repeatedly. Every time the answer was yes. Yes, she wanted someone to love. Her life had been consumed by her work in the past. Still was consumed, especially with all of the work from the ruptured pipe. But, her aunt had brought a truth to her eyes, when she went home at night no one waited for her. No one needed her.


If she didn’t do something about her life now, than just like her aunt Melvina she would pass away alone. Sucking in a breath, Veronica felt the burning of tears behind her eyes. Standing half naked in a doctor’s office was no place to breakdown and start crying. Attempting to pull herself together she finished cleaning up and dressing, tossing the used gown in the trashcan. Aunt Melvina had implored her not to wait to get married and have children. There was no need for her to look at her dating calendar to find out her prospective for matrimony. It didn’t take a genius to count to the number zilch. That’s exactly what she had going for her in the husband department. Her last date had been a year ago with an accountant she’d met in the grocery store. The produce aisle to be exact, he’d asked her advice in selecting a cantaloupe. She’d given Leonard Stout advice and he’d given her a headache as he’d rambled on for hours about figures and numbers, and how to discover the best advantages in the stock market. Cute, but boring. When she got home, she’d called Mark and fussed him out for teaching her how to pick a good piece of fruit. Mark in return gave her a lecture about the dangers of accepting dates from strange men in the super market. Her best friend didn’t have anything to worry about, the long hours she kept in the hotel made sure she was dateless most weekends. The only thing she did other than work was ‘date night’ with Mark, food and a movie. Those reasons and more made in-vitro fertilization such an easy choice once her mind was set to have a baby. It could be years before Mr. Tall, Dark and Right came her way. So, Mr. 2249359 would have to do. With a strong resolve, Veronica opened the door and stepped into the doctor’s office decorated with shelves full of medical books, laminated diagrams and life-like sculptures of the female reproductive system. Dr. Rodriguez directed her to one of two empty seats on the other side of the desk. Veronica took a moment to observe the Hispanic woman with her light brown complexion and sable shoulder length hair she kept away from her face with a clip. The forty something year old


woman, moved with an efficiency denoted of years of experience. Passing her a folder full of pamphlets, the doctor began, “Here is some information you can review until your appointment next week. Dr. Morgan will discuss the options available to you and…” The and stretched on as if Dr. Rodriquez was waiting for her to fill in the blank. Veronica accepted the folder of papers. “I’m not married.” “I recall that from your paperwork.” The doctor attempted to disguise her shock, but Veronica took note of the delicate lift of the woman’s left eyebrow. The old stereotypes women faced came raging in full force back to her mind. Her parents were happily married, but living with her aunt since she was fourteen proved to her that a single woman could raise a child who was educated, well mannered and productive in society. No matter what statistics reported. She was different. She was definitely financially secure enough to care for herself and a child. “Is that going to be an issue?” Covering her tracks of her pious attitude, Dr. Rodriguez allowed a broad smile to stretch across her lips. “Not a problem. Here at Building Families Clinic we understand that not all families are traditional.” It was something about the way the other woman said traditional like there was something odd about her because she wanted to conceive a child by herself and raise it. There were plenty of single parents in the world doing an outstanding job of raise children. Of course it wasn’t how she intended her life to be, but she was going through enough emotional struggles of her own without the censorship of this woman. Veronica grinned just as wide. “When I researched this facility, it was because of your open policy of serving mature women with financial stability who desired to have a child.” “Emotional stability as well.” Dr. Rodriguez reiterated. The mental health condition for a single woman was the only thing that grated along her nerves. Veronica thought the stipulation of having to see a staff counselor to discuss her reason for wanting a child because she wasn’t married, a bit ridiculous. To her it said that a single woman didn’t know her own mind because she was unwed. However, stereotype or not, she’d have to conform to it if


she wanted a child. Everyday, she wanted one more and more. “Yes. I have an appointment with the counselor already.” “Great.” The woman’s face relaxed. “The rest of your labs and test will be back by next week. Then if your appointment is finished by then we can schedule you a follow up to come back.” Dr. Rodriguez stood and rounded the desk, holding her hand out. Grasping the offered hand, Veronica rose from her seat. “When will I see you again?” “After your appointment with Dr. Morgan, than you’ll be given some time to review the donors. Once you select a donor than we’ll meet to talk about your insemination.” “Thank you.” Veronica left. When she exited the office, she took a deep breath and sighed with relief. One exam out of the way, just a few more to go. **** “Hey, Mark.” A male voice echoed through the phone. “Curtis, what’s up man?” Mark greeted his brother as he placed the movie rental on the table. “I can’t complain. Has Veronica made it over yet?” Curtis asked. Mark wasn’t surprised that his brother remembered that tonight was his movie night with Veronica, the first Friday of every month. Curtis and their mother were the only people he’d told about his feelings for Veronica. They understood the depth of his feelings so well that if Veronica had asked him to open a hotel in North Pole, Alaska, they knew he would have his bags packed before he hung up the phone and searching the internet for available igloos. When he was in college, he had to discuss it with someone, because his feelings had been eating him up inside. Yeah, he had it bad. “No, she should be here soon.” “What’s the movie pick?” “The Bucket List. We usually go for suspense thrillers.” Mark moved across his living room and returned to the kitchen to attend to his simmering roasted garlic and rosemary marinara. “Not a bad selection. Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson.” “I’m glad it rates your approval, Mr. Ebert. However, I’m sure


you didn’t call me to talk about movies.” Finished stirring the sauce, Mark slid the fresh French bread out of its paper bag to begin slicing it. “You’re right. It’s almost bedtime for my kiddos and I’m about to have my own quality time.” Curtis’s voice sang through the line full of excitement. “Stop bragging. So, what’s up?” Mark was envious of his older brother’s life. Curtis and his wife, Kaley had been married for nine years and had four kids from the age of three to eight. As much as Mark loved cooking and being deep in a variety of dishes in a kitchen, he still wanted a wife and family. He’d almost had it years ago with Laverne, but things didn’t work out. He had only fooled himself in thinking that it would work under the circumstances. Laverne wasn’t Veronica. “You free.” Curtis’s words broke into his thoughts. “Free for what?” He took the metal sheet with the small circular cuts of bread covered with mozzarella, feta, sun dried tomatoes and oregano and drizzled with olive oil into the oven. “A visit.” “You and Kaley bringing the kids down for the summer from Denver?” “Whoa! Earth to Mark. Where’s your head tonight?” Closing the oven door and setting his timer for good measure, Mark rubbed his eyes. “I’m here. I just got a lot on my mind. You want to start over?” Chuckling, Curtis quickly gave him a recap. “My office is sending me to a conference in a month it’s in your area. I’m going to take extra time and visit with you.” “Is the conference at my hotel?” “Sorry, bro, but it’s at the Marriott downtown Waterside. But if I was putting it on, we would’ve been right in the Great Escapes.” “You better believe it.” Putting two wine glasses in the freezer, he said, “Yea, I’m free.” “So, what’s eating at you?” Curtis asked. “It’s not me. It’s Veronica.” Mark leaned against the counter. “It’s only been a short time since her aunt’s death, I’m sure she’s trying to adjust.”


Mark worried his bottom lip with the thumb of his free hand. “That I expect. But, something else is going on with her.” “Like what?” “Can’t put my finger on it. She’s the same, but different. Veronica comes to work every day, but she’s not there. If you get my drift.” “Look, man. When my wife’s grandmother passed it took Kaley three good months before she stopped staring off in the distance at odd times like she was waiting for her grandmother to come around the corner at any minute. Give Veronica time.” “Maybe you’re right. I just wish she would open up to me.” “First off, I’m you’re older brother. So, I’m always right, Markie.” Mark made a teeth sucking sound directly into the mouth piece. Markie had been his nickname since he was a child, but no one used it but their mother. “She’ll come around when she’s ready.” The timer beeped and his doorbell rang at the same time. “Look, Veronica’s here now. Just shoot me an e-mail on the days so I can let Herman, my sous chef know when I’m taking off.” Grabbing an oven mitten, Mark removed the tray and set it on a cooling pad on the counter. “Will do. Love you, man.” Curtis’s youngest child began whining in the background. Mark moved to the door. “Yeah, back at-cha. You better go see what she needs before Lily starts wail--” Before he could finish his niece let out a loud scream. “See why I need a vacation?” Curtis groaned. “No.” Mark laughed. “You love it that you’re the only one who can console her.” Jogging through his living room, he opened the door for Veronica. “Yea, I do,” his big brother confirmed. Stepping in, Veronica saw him on the phone and kissed him on the cheek. The apple scent of her body lotion or spray made his mouth water. He moved back as she strolled in wearing a soft cranberry sweater and a pair of jeans that conformed nicely to her backside. “Gotta go, Curtis.”


“Bye.” Depressing the off button on his cell phone, Mark set it down on the table. “Dessert.” Veronica smiled and held up the white plastic grocery bag. Mark frowned at the square shape of what could only be a supermarket bakery cake at best. “Veronica, when I come to your house on movie night.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Am I toting imitation food?” “Hey, this isn’t imitation.” Pulling the handles back, she peeped inside the bag. “Sammy Pete’s makes the best pound cake a store could bake and I even bought strawberries and whipped cream.” Raising her head she beamed a smile at him. “Now, it’s strawberry shortcake.” “You’d been better off buying the doll.” He took the bag from her and headed to the kitchen. “I’d rather eat plastic any day over cardboard.” Hanging her pursue on his coat rack, she followed him to the kitchen and sat at the bar. “No, complaining allowed. You’ll eat it and you’ll like it.” He grumbled under his breath. “Do I smell your famous spaghetti?” She briskly rubbed her hands together. Placing the cake at the end of the bar, Mark deposited the toppings in his refrigerator. “Yes, you do. Are you ready to eat?” “If we wait any longer my stomach will speak up and let you know.” She rubbed her belly. Laughing, he took out plates and silverware and served them both a dish with a glass of Pinot Noir. They ate in companionable silence for the first few bites. Mark used the time to observe Veronica. There were dark circles under her eyes, a clear sign of stress in her features. Something was definitely eating at her. “Did you get a hold of Tiffany yet? It’s almost been a month.” Raising her head, she smiled. “Yes, I talked to her briefly yesterday. She and Josephine where out of town with work. I let her know what was going on and she’s putting ideas together. We arranged a meeting next week.” He was relieved. They needed something soon. Spring was


already headed their way, summer was right around the corner. Just maybe the two ladies could come up with something that wouldn’t require the hotel using Veronica’s inheritance. Both of them had already sunk most of their savings into the hotel and that was enough. He loved owning the hotel, but it would have to begin to pay for itself. “Great. Do you need me to come? “Nope.” Veronica set her fork down and lifted her wine glass. “I think we can handle it.” Nodding, he rose and grabbed both their plates. “I’ll get the delicious dessert all served up and you get the movie started.” Poking her tongue out at him, she gathered their wine and went to the living room. Shaking his head at her antics, he began pulling out the pound cake, and it’s bought toppings along with orange glaze, cream cheese, powder sugar and Belgium chocolate shavings. “It’s time to do a little doctoring on dessert.” “I heard that.” Veronica called out from the other room. Stepping over to the bar, he looked across the room at his best friend as she’d already curled up on the end of the couch with the remote. Her locs played around her shoulder with her gentle movements. Her profile showcased the strong features of her cultures. The high set of her cheekbones from her Cherokee great grandmother as well as her full lips from her African heritage. It was those lips that drew him. The same lips that gave him erotic dreams and haunted him during the day, they could make a man wax poetic. Yeah, those thick lips that were meant to be suckled made heat pool below his belt and put his manhood on full alert. Feeling the stirring in his pants, he stepped back and denied himself her site. If he didn’t get himself together he’d never be able to walk into the living room. Taking a deep breath, he refocused on the dessert. He blended the orange glaze, sugar and cream cheese together until it was smooth and fluffy. Placing a dollop of glaze on the bottom of the dish, he then set a slice of cake on top. Covering the cake with a heavy helping of cheese mixture and quarter cut strawberries, he layered it again with cake. Quickly, he warmed a small amount of glaze in a sauce pan. He finished off the dessert by drizzling the glaze on top, whipped cream and sprinkling orange zest and


chocolate shavings over the treat. Picking up the two square dishes holding the treat and silverware, he went and joined Veronica. “You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Pursing her lips, she shook her head at him and took the dish. He sat at the other end of the couch and propped his legs up on the coffee table. “You never intended for me to. I didn’t just meet you yesterday. You love dessert, Roni. Good dessert.” Lifting a spoonful of cake and toppings, she said, “Keep it up with the nickname and I’m going home.” “Mmhmm, I bet.” Putting the cake in her mouth, Veronica paused, then closed her eyes. Pure delight crossed her face. Finishing off the bite, she sighed, “Oh, Mark, this is good.” “I seek to please, sweetness.” Each mouthful Veronica consumed was punctuated by moans of satisfaction. Feeling his shaft begin to awaken, Mark reached over and grabbed a pillow, tossing it into his lap. “Very good.” Her tongue sneaked out and collected a drop of glaze off her bottom lip. He groaned. This is going to be a long night. Snatching up the remote he quickly started the movie. The need to drown out her sounds of delight was forcefully pressing against the underside of the pillow. He was one moan away from losing his mind.


Chapter Five Sitting in another office at Building Families Clinic in Ghent, Veronica was full of both anxiety and joy. It was finally time for her to pick her donor. Any moment, Dr. Carlton Morgan would enter and tell her if Linda Sullivan, the counselor she’d seen yesterday had given her a clean bill of mental health. “Ms. Martinson.” Dr. Morgan walked in and closed the door behind him. Holding one hand out to her, he clutched a folder in his other hand. My folder. Rising, she grasped his extended hand. “Dr. Morgan, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” “It’s always good to meet a prospective parent.” Sitting behind his desk he opened her chart wide. “As I understand it, you’re going solo in this family venture.” Not him too? “Yes. It’s just me.” Feeling the stretch of her mouth, she hoped to display a broad confident smile. “Will that be a problem?” Returning her smile, he said, “Not at all. Here at BFC, we generally work with married couples who have been attempting to get pregnant for years, but for whatever reason have been unsuccessful. Outside of that we also have assisted numerous single women, usually in there late thirties or early forties, in completing their life with a child.” Relief washed over her refreshing raindrops after a draught. She wasn’t in her late forties, however, thirty was casting a large shadow on her. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Dr. Morgan.” Peering across the high gloss cherry wood surface, she asked, “So, do you have the counselor’s report?” Leaning back, Dr. Morgan observed her for a moment. “Why do you want a child, Ms. Martinson?” He asked, instead of answering her question. “I’m sure my reply to Mrs. Sullivan is in her report.” Veronica didn’t want to play a cat and mouse game again. Her nerves were already frayed wondering what the report said about her. Desperate woman seeks a life in a baby.


He inclined his head, but still remained silent. Realizing that she only had one choice if she wanted this man’s help, she had to answer. Because he seemed sincere in wanting to know, instead of just doing a mental investigation as was the Sullivan woman’s job, she revealed more to him then the trite answer she had give in the interview. “Dr. Morgan, my aunt died this year. She meant everything to me.” She lowered her eyes to her hands, watching as they fidgeted with her purse strap. “I always wanted children. Not like a whole house full like Eight is Enough, but a daughter and maybe a son.” Her throat became thick and tight. “Over the last few years I’ve been extremely driven. Career focused. I always believed the opportunity would come. That I had plenty of time to find someone to settle down with and have a family.” “There’s still time. Your file says you haven’t even reached thirty yet,” he interjected. “In two years I’ll be thirty. My aunt died at fifty-one of cancer. What’s to say, I’ll have another day?” She felt the cool air in the room kiss the trail of water rolling down her cheeks, making her aware of her tears. She whipped her face with an angry hand. She hated to have her emotions get the best of her. “I don’t want to waste anymore time. I don’t want to be like my aunt and look back on my life with regrets that my career was extraordinary, but that’s all I had.” Biting on the corner of her lip, she tried to keep herself from falling apart anymore than she already did before Dr. Morgan. If Linda Sullivan hadn’t said she was a basket case grasping at emotional straws than the obstetrician surely thought it now. Was a woman who was an emotional wreck the best person to raise a baby? One side of his mouth curled in a smile. “Veronica, I believe you’ve come to the right place and we can help you fulfill your desire to have a baby.” He placed a box of Kleenex before her on the corner of his desk. Once a woman had balled in your office I guess it was appropriate to call her by her first name. Veronica quickly grabbed a tissue and pressed it against her eyes, before the water works started over. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. I’ve read your file and all of your medical


reports look great and Ms. Sullivan commends you for your commitment to have this child.” Pulling open a drawer on the side of his desk, he placed a binder on top. “Now comes the hard part.” “What’s that?” She’d already been poked, prodded and searched from one end of her cervices to the other. Not to mention the mental exam. What could be worst? “Picking the donor.” He pushed the binder toward her. “We’ve had women take months picking a sperm donor.” Veronica stared at the book, but didn’t reach out to take it. Dr. Morgan continued, “We’ve had women never get passed the selection part. It’s amazing women of all ages get pregnant by accident or on purpose without necessarily considering if the man they are with will be the best person to father their child. But when presented with this…” his words drifted away as he shook his head. “What’s so hard about it?” Starting to reach for the book, she realized that her palms were sweating. She took a moment to rub them over her skirt top. He shrugged. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.” Taking the binder, she glanced down at the tops nondescript title. The block letters simply read BUILDING FAMILIES BINDER NUMBER 27. “I’ll need you to sign this hand receipt to acknowledge you received a copy of the available donors and will return it within thirty days or return to the clinic to request more days. Pulling a pen out of her purse, she signed and dated the form. “Anything else?” “No, Veronica. Once you’ve made your decision schedule an appointment with our front desk identifying the donor number of choice. We’ll, take it from there.” Gathering her things and the binder, Veronica turned to leave. “One more thing. In ninety days if you haven’t made a selection we’ll need the book back and we’ll place your folder with our undecided files.” Nodding, she said, “I understand.” She walked out of the office. Over the years she’d made numerous important decisions for her life and she doubted this situation would be any different. Those other women truly may not have wanted a child, but she did. No, she would not be counted among the indecisive numbers.


She was Veronica Martinson. She was nothing if not tenacious. **** “Tiffany!” Veronica entered the Tree Top restaurant in Williamsburg and spotted her friend Tiffany Hatcher already at a table. Tiffany’s face glowed as a wide smile stretched her mouth. Moving closer, Veronica saw her friend rise. Instantly, her steps faltered as she noticed the large swell of Tiffany’s stomach. She knew Tiffany was pregnant, but since their group of girl friends didn’t see each other very often, all having demanding careers, it had slipped her mind. Not to mention with her world being turned upside down between her aunt and the hotel, she was practically oblivious to other things going on around her. Recovering quickly, she rushed over to Tiffany and hugged her. “It’s so good to see you, Tiffany.” Her friend hadn’t been at the funeral due to doctors orders. “Girl, you too. Even though my ankles stopped swelling and I can get out of bed I’m still being shadowed. Trevor was fussing about me being on the road, but girl, I told him I was not going to miss this opportunity for anything.” “I miss seeing everyone else as well. The last time we all were together was your wedding.” Kissing each other on the cheek, they pulled apart. Veronica observed her friend in her designer maternity suit. “You are beautiful, girl. When is the baby due?” “I have a little over a month left.” Tiffany rubbed her swollen belly. “Maybe, Trevor’s right, you shouldn’t have driven here. I could’ve met you in Alexandria.” Sitting, Tiffany said, “Girl, I’m pregnant, not handicap.” She laughed. “Besides, I didn’t come by myself. My overprotective husband is touring Williamsburg. I’ll call him when we finish up.” Claiming the seat across from Tiffany, Veronica didn’t only see the natural maternal beauty on Tiffany’s features, but something more. She also witnessed the love and joy of Tiffany’s relationship with her husband of almost two years. Something,


Veronica didn’t see in the cards for herself anytime soon. The waiter showed to take her drink order and gave her a menu. After ordering a Boston-style ice tea, Veronica took a moment to quickly scan the lunch specials. Giving herself time to process her thoughts. Seeing Tiffany blossoming with child had got to her. On the threshold of trying to get pregnant herself it made her envious. A feeling foreign to her. Always having excelled in academics and her career she wasn’t use to coveting someone else’s life. The feeling gave Veronica a bitter taste in her mouth. “If it helps you decide I’m getting the cranberry, walnut smoked turkey wheat wrap, with extra avocado, honey mustard and sweet potato fries.” Lowering her menu, Veronica frowned at Tiffany. “Is that a normal customer choice or something you cooked up reflecting your condition?” The sound of all the ingredients was making her stomach roll and flip just thinking about it. Tiffany laughed. “Everything but the avocado. I can’t help it. I’ve craved avocado for the last two months like crazy. I added it to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich the other day. Trevor had to leave the room. He refused to watch me eat it.” Veronica shook her head. “I’m with Trevor. It sounds disgusting.” She wondered when she was carrying her own child if she would want strange cuisines as well. “But, it tastes soooo good.” Euphoria lit up Tiffany’s features. “I’ll take your word for it.” The waiter arrived with her drink and Veronica ordered the mesquite turkey bruschetta sandwich with a house salad. “Tiffany, have you seen today’s paper?” “Are you talking about the front page article of the Richmond Times?” Tiffany sipped her drink, her expression introspective. “Not just Richmond, Christopher Manning made headlines in Va Beach as well.” Veronica pulled the newspaper out from her soft leather case beside her chair and passed Tiffany the first section of the newspaper she’d brought with her. Taking it Tiffany unfolded the first section of the paper. “Trevor and I were up and gone early this morning. But, my dad called us on the road and said Christopher had been convicted.” Veronica watched her friend scan the article.


“It was a long trial. Well over a year.” “Voluntary manslaughter. He’ll be in prison for a long time.” Tiffany shook her head and closed the paper. “It’s still hard for me to believe. I’m still stunned to think that this is the same guy that was a childhood friend of mine.” “As well as your boyfriend, before you married Trevor. You and Christopher were linked as an item to watch.” “Yeah, but I’m glad I got out of that relationship before things went to serious. I knew way before Trevor that Christopher wasn’t for me.” “Didn’t they call you in to testify?” “As a character witness at first for the defense. However, I don’t think I aided his case very well when the prosecutor asked me if I’ve ever felt threatened by Christopher. I had to tell him yes.” Tilting her head, Veronica eyed Tiffany. “When did he threaten you? Josephine said he was always on your heels for you two to get back together.” “Until he noticed Trevor and I being around each other too much. Then things started to go south. During the trial Christopher’s attorney attempted to say that he was lured to the reporter’s house by some supposed pictures of Trevor and I. That he went there to protect my reputation.” “Did he?” The knowledge that there were possibly some pictures of her friend caught Veronica off guard. Tiffany wasn’t one to find her self in lewd situations. Tiffany was a straitlaced as they come. “Were there pictures?” she whispered, not wanting others in the restaurant to hear. “Maybe.” Veronica caught the smile on Tiffany’s face before it was covered up as her friend took a drink. Veronica covered her gaping mouth. The calmness in which Tiffany had expressed the possibility of photos of herself being held in the hands of a reporter, in addition to the twinkle in Tiffany’s eyes was proof that her friend had changed. Marriage had changed Tiffany, making her more relaxed about things. Waving her hand away, Tiffany said, “But, regardless of what that reporter might have had on me. The ones the investigator found in the reporters safe deposit box were of Christopher with


hookers. Not to mention the fact that one of those hookers was seventeen at the time they were taken. Plus a copy of the e-mail the reporter sent to Christopher about pictures he had that would ruin his chance of being elected Congressman. That sealed the crime of passion verdict.” “Amazing.” Veronica leaned back in her chair and sipped her ice tea. “Tiffany your life was never boring.” Tiffany laughed. “Yeah, but I’m hoping things will begin to settle down now that this trial is over. I just want to be a wife and mother and run my business.” Nodding Veronica remained silent. Two out of those three wishes were her desire as well. “Okay, onto something more positive. Let me show you some of the ideas that I have and you can help me shape them into what will be feasible for your hotel.” Tiffany reached over and pulled a folder out of her own soft leather briefcase beside her chair. Placing the folder on the side of the table where both of them could view it. Tiffany displayed an octagon style design sectioned off with decoration, guest, food, and other things. “What is this?” Veronica tried to make sense out of the patterns, words and numbers. She gathered it was some kind of affair, but couldn’t determine what type. “I thought about how soon you all would need the money. What would be the most cost effective event for your hotel and bring in both publicity and funds at the same time.” Scanning the chart once again, Veronica asked, “And you came up with what?” “A celebrity auction.” “Celebrity auction.” Veronica sat back in her chair. “Tiffany, we don’t have the time or resources to get some bigwig in from Hollywood.” Still smiling, Tiffany flipped her portfolio to the next page. “Look at the names. This is a local celebrity auction.” Glancing at the names on the list, Veronica began to comprehend. Tiffany had done an excellent job of compiling people who lived in or around the Hampton Road area. Her celebrity list consisted of Miss Tidewater, channel ten news anchorman, Miss Virginia Peanut, Miss Strawberry Festival, the District Attorney of Virginia Beach and a player for the


Washington Wizards and others. Mayor Fordnerbro was down for giving opening remarks. “Will Steve Dumar be able to do this? When does basketball season end?” “The timing will work great because the season ends in May even if his team goes to the championship.” Tiffany confirmed. “Besides, sports professionals are usually in their hometown during off season giving back to their communities. This auction will be perfect.” Nodding, Veronica scanned the list once again and froze. “Mark Latten?” She glanced up at her friend. “Of course. Mark is number four on the who’s who list in Hampton Road since he won the Chef of the Year Award last year. His name is always in the local and entertainment section of the paper.” Veronica knew all about Mark’s culinary success, the restaurant revenue proved it monthly, but she never considered her best friend to be a celebrity. “Well, that will be interesting.” She grinned. “I can’t wait to see how he responds when he finds out he’s on the list and part of the auction.” Mark was a private man, just like herself, she wondered how he’d feel about being put up for charity. The waiter brought their plates of food, refilled their drinks and left. “I already took the liberty of drafting the letters requesting each person’s participation in the affair as well as stringing along the words explaining the purpose. Everyone loves a cause, so I don’t see you having any problems getting the attendance.” Tiffany bit into her custom-made wrap. “I suppose you also have a guest list included?” Veronica drizzled the small cup of vinaigrette over the salad as she flipped another page and located the decoration and theme suggestions. “Yes. Let Mark know his staff will need to prepare food for a hundred to a hundred and fifty people. I didn’t suggest the meal plan because I have no doubt he will be able to handle it.” Reading the imitation invitation she noticed it instructed people that it was a costume ball celebrity auction. “Costumes?” Veronica glanced passed the pink irises in the middle of the table toward Tiffany.


“Of course.” Tiffany bubbled with excitement. “People love dressing up. Besides it will add to the gaiety of the night.” Eating her salad, Veronica thought about how much she didn’t like to dress up in a custom. Give her a suit any day and she was fine, but every time she had attended a costume party she was always plagued for weeks trying to decided who she wanted to be and nothing ever seem to fit. She would have to take Tiffany’s word for it. Pushing the costume portion of the affair aside she said, “Tiffany, I really like this set-up. If we pull it off, it should bring in a pretty penny between the dinner fee and auction profits.” “Exactly.” Tiffany finished off her wrap and worked on the remainder of her fries. “Would you ladies care for dessert?” The waiter inquired. Tiffany ordered a slice of the restaurants special cheese cake and Veronica an apricot tart. “Are you really happy, Tiffany?” Veronica viewed her friend across the table. They would both be thirty soon. Career-wise they were similar just like all their girl friends, driven, focused and ambitious. However in the personal department, they were as different as the ocean and dry land. Each having their own goals. Leaning back, Tiffany didn’t even attempt to hide the smile stretching across her face. “Very happy. I never realized how being with someone, the right one could make my life so complete.” Veronica knew that Tiffany’s wrong one had been Congressional hopeful Christopher Manning. Christopher had been so wrong. He’d ended up in jail. Tiffany’s sigh was full of joy. “Then you add a baby into the mix and--” Her words cut off and her eyes stretched wide as she grabbed her stomach. Clutching the table, Veronica eyed her friend. “If you go into labor at this table I will never forgive you.” Giggling, Tiffany reached across the table and took hold of Veronica’s hand and placed it on her stomach. “The baby is kicking. It’s the most amazing thing. I never tire of feeling it.” Initially, Veronica didn’t feel anything. Suddenly, she felt a small amount of pressure against the palm of her hand, then a swift tap that made her gasp in excitement. Lowering her gaze, she was fixated on her hand on the side of Tiffany’s stomach. Several


thoughts and emotions began swimming around inside of Veronica. “I know it just makes you speechless.” Veronica wasn’t only silent because of the moving baby, but the tightening in her throat made the possibility of words escaping difficult. She wanted to weep with joy and jealousy at the same time. Tiffany had found her haven in the world. The perfect man. In a perfect marriage. Soon to bring forth their perfect little addition. The envy tasted sour in Veronica’s mouth. Sitting back, Veronica took a deep breath and swallowed to loosen her vocal cords. “Tiffany, I’m glad to know everything turned out for the best with you and Trevor.” Rubbing the side of her stomach where there baby’s acrobatics were taking place, Tiffany said, “As soon as Lydia or Clayton arrives, breathing will be easier and I’ll be ecstatic.” “Clayton.” The grimace tightening her features, probably made it clear to Tiffany that she wasn’t fond of the name. “Oh, please tell me you’re not going to call this child Clayton.” Laughing, Tiffany shook her head. “Most likely not. I’ve always liked the name but Trevor forbids it. But, I’m trying to sell others on the name.” The waiter came back and placed desserts before them, laid the bill on the table, then collected their lunch plates. Sipping her tea, Veronica snatched up the small black pouch and waited for the waiter’s departure. “Consider my vote another in Trevor’s corner.” Tiffany stuck her tongue out. “You’re not going to pay for my meal.” Tiffany declared when Veronica slipped her credit card into the slit inside of the small folder. “Yes, I am. You wouldn’t allow me to pay for your consultation services. So, this is the least I can do.” Catching the waiter’s eye, Veronica nodded at him, signaling that she was ready for him to collect the bill. With brisk strides, he took the pouch from her and stepped away. “I don’t charge friends.” Tiffany repeated what she’d told her on the phone, and then took a bite of the cake. “Now, how’s life treating you?”


Veronica dipped her dessert fork into her tart and ate to buy herself time. She waved her hand toward the items on the side of the table that Tiffany had brought her and said, “Hectic, as you well know.” “I know about the business side of things. How’s the love life.” “Non-existent at the moment.” Veronica wrinkled her nose. “Would you like me to hook you up?” Tiffany consumed the remaining cheese cake. “Have I ever wanted you all to give me a hook-up?” Fingering a wayward loc that had escaped from her topknot back into place, Veronica questioned her friend. She pushed away her plate, leaving a small morsel of tart remaining. Tiffany wiped her mouth with her linen napkin. “Nope. Even though Karen tried many times while we were in college.” “Yes, she did.” Veronica smiled at the thought of her good friend’s persistence. She and Karen were opposites on numerous levels, but it didn’t stop their close friendship within their girls group. “Well, don’t push men and family too far down on your priority list. Life is too short.” Concern was stamped into Tiffany’s face causing her brown eyes to soften with worry. “Have no fear, I haven’t forgotten.” Veronica sighed. “Besides, things should be looking up for me real soon.” Before meeting with Tiffany, she’d actually considered turning the donor binder back in and telling BFC she’d changed her mind. Thinking that maybe she was jumping the gun, moving to fast. Her aunt’s passing a few months ago was playing with her mind and making her feel lonely. She could sit around and wait for her five point star man to come along. But, seeing Tiffany today and feeling her unborn child squirming around in her stomach, just made the impulse and desire to have a baby elevate. Lifting a questioning brow, Tiffany eyed her across the table. Veronica was glad she was spared from answering the silent question by Tiffany’s ringing cell phone, as well as the waiters return with the receipt.


Chapter Six “Karen, I haven’t seen you in months. When are you coming to visit?” Veronica spoke into the interior of her car, so that her Bluetooth would pick up her words as she maneuvered her car through traffic on I64 eastbound as headed back on her side of the water from the restaurant and meeting with Tiffany. “You do realize that ninety-five runs north as well as south, right baby-doll?” Karen’s jovial melodic voice came through earpiece. “Of course, I do, but with the hotel in crisis I’m stuck on this side of the border.” “I’ve already taken leave for Memorial Day in a couple months to come visit. This new project is taking all of my spare time.” Karen’s words echoed around, letting Veronica know that as always Karen had her on speaker phone as she worked. Karen was head of marketing at the D.C. division of New Stride, a major sneaker company. “New project. Hmm, can a consumer get a sneak peek?” “Only if said consumer can afford to hire me when I lose my job here for giving the lizard’s tail away.” “You know they can sprout a new one.” Groaning, Veronica confirmed what they both already knew. “I can’t afford your high premium rate. So you might as well keep your ‘National Treasure Book of Secrets’.” “I thought you’d see things my way.” Karen’s fingers continued to click away on the computer keys. “So, what’s going on? And before you start, I’m too damn stressed for you to beat around the bush. You calling me to ask me to reschedule my leave tells me it’s big. Spill it.” It was almost impossible to pull a curtain over her friend’s eyes, she was just as street savvy as she was book smart. Entering the Hampton Roads bridge tunnel, she prayed her cellular connection wouldn’t be severed. “It’s complicate. I don’t really care to discuss it over the phone. And there’s no one here I can talk to about it.” Easing her foot off the gas, Veronica tried not to get annoyed by the skittish driver in front of her who continued


to press on the breaks. “What about, Mark? He’s always been a good listener.” The thought of her telling Mark that she was trying to get pregnant through artificial insemination made her stomach queasy. She wasn’t sure if he would judge her or not, but she didn’t want to chance it at the moment. “Too personal. I’ll come there for the weekend if you can’t make it here.” The clicking on the other end stopped. “You’re going to come to Maryland with all the construction needed at the hotel?” “Sure.” Veronica attempted to sound nonchalant as she left out of the tunnel and continued along the bridge over the Atlantic Ocean. Karen must not have bought her casual attitude. “I’ll be down there in two weeks. Can it hold that long? I can only stay overnight. I’ll drive in Saturday morning, but will have to leave back out Sunday.” Relief flowed over Veronica like the ocean breeze blowing in her window. She really didn’t want to leave with the hotel in shambles, but she needed to talk. Two weeks would mean almost two months with the book, but she’d already swallowed her pride once, her friend would keep her from digesting it again by renewing the donor binder a second time. Karen was her sounding board when things were to personal or female to discuss with Mark. “Thanks, Karen.” “You’re welcome, girl.” Someone in the background called Karen’s name. Her friend let them know she would be right there. “I know you have to go. My guest room will be ready for you. I owe you a night at the hotel in one of the suites.” She knew her friend loved the rooms with the Jacuzzi in them. “You’re offering a room at the hotel?” Karen paused. “This must be big.” “Bye, Karen.” She refused to give any hints. “Hugs and kisses.” Veronica felt both weary and exhausted. Thank God Karen was coming and maybe her friend could help lift the burden of decision weighing on her shoulders. Maybe.


**** “Hey, there sweetness.” Mark only took a moment to glance to the side and confirm that Veronica had walked into his sanctuary. Hearing the click of her heels on the pearl white floor tiles signaled her entry. Everyone in his kitchen, whether male or female, wore sensible rubber sole shoes that gripped and squeaked across the floor. “Hi. Is this a good time?” Her gaze traveled around the kitchen, assessing as she held a binder of sum sort in her hands. “Perfect timing.” He smiled at her, as he stepped toward the sink and washed his hands. He hadn’t actually been handling any food at the moment, but something he did out of habit. “We’re still prepping for dinner. I’ve got at least thirty minutes to spare.” Returning his smile, she said, “All I need is fifteen.” “Then what will we do with the remaining fifteen minutes.” He winked at her. “Oh, the possibilities.” Veronica rolled her eyes and proceeded before him toward his office off to the left of the kitchen. “Herman, it’s in your hands.” “Got it, boss.” His Sous called over his shoulder as Herman continued his discussion with Melissa the Saucier. Herman was an excellent cook. He had retired from being a long shore man and started a second career as a Chef. Herman had followed him from The Painted Lady, where Herman had been the Saucier and second cook at the time. Turning away he followed Veronica. Today, she wore a burgundy colored pants suit made out of some type of body hugging material. The short jacket covered the waistband of the pants but allowed the full expansion of her hips to be revealed. Nice round hips. Mark attempt to tell himself that he shouldn’t notice how the fabric cupped her butt or how the pants seemed to caress her thighs before falling wide around her gray heels. There was something about watching a black woman walk. The confidence, in which she took each step, relaxed and gave her hips permission to glide smoothly from left to right. They demanded a man’s observation. Even Veronica, a woman too business minded to see her own sexuality strutted like her thighs held the secret’s of life. Begging


him to observe. To ponder. To dream. You’re killing yourself man. Crossing the threshold of his office Mark closed the door behind them and used the time to calm his senses. If he didn’t keep his thoughts under control he’d have a three fisted problem on his hands. Removing his high white hat, that signified him as the executive chief and set it on the pedestal to his left, its normal place of rest when he wasn’t wearing it. Wearing of the hat was an old tradition, something that most modern American Chefs didn’t do, but for him, he had dreamed of it since he was a teenager, so he wore it. Facing Veronica who had commandeered his desk chair and was in the process of moving his papers around to clear a space for the binder, he crossed the room and took a deep breath hoping to steel his resolve. He realized it was the wrong move, when he no longer smelled the herbs and spices his staff was mincing and slicing Julian style. Instead Veronica’s Vera Wang perfume, soft and sweet, tickled his nose. He paused and almost groaned. He’d bought her the body butter for her birthday a few months ago. She didn’t like sprays and his mind conjured up thoughts of her body freshly showered and sliding the cream over of her skin, scenting herself. Quickly, he grabbed one of the basic wood chairs he kept in his office for meetings with his head staff. Spinning the chair he straddled it wide legged and was grateful for the solid back to hide his burgeoning erection. He’d been been affected by her since the day he saw her in the library on campus when he’d transferred into Hudson Morris University in Alexandria, Virginia during his sophomore year. But, now he felt like he was losing control. Two years ago when she’d called him up and asked if he wanted to go into business together he shouldn’t have jumped at the idea. Instead he should have contemplated it as he would the death penalty. Because being around her and not being with her was killing him one day at a time. But his marriage had been over a year by then and he needed a change. He needed Veronica. Soon, after everything had been repaired with the hotel and things were stable, he’d have to make a decision. One he didn’t want to acknowledge. “How’d your meeting go with Tiffany?”


“Great.” She relaxed back against the leather upholstery and smiled at him. “That woman is a social genius. I’ve always known that, but to sit and listen to her talk her stuff.” She nodded. “Amazing.” “So, what did wonder woman have to say about how to rectify our situation?” He folded his arms over the top of the chair. “Lots.” Veronica flipped the binder open and angled it toward him. She slid a folder from the inside pouch and passed it to him. “Tiffany had this great idea for an auction ball using local celebrities.” He frowned and looked at her. “What’s an auction ball? What are we auctioning?” “People. Local celebrities.” The material of her pants whispered as she crossed her legs. Keeping his eyes firmly on her face, he asked, “Isn’t that illegal?” Her laugh was like a melody. “Mark, the auction is for a date.” Flipping through the binder she pointed to the instructions. “You see, each contestant will walk the stage and the guest get to bid on them, starting at a thousand dollars.” “So, is it going to be like a meat market where everyone just starts calling out numbers?” This wasn’t setting well with him. He had visions of women rushing the stage and scream out obscene amounts and making public demands for services. “No.” She laughed again. Heat curled along his spine at the sound. “I’m sure it has been done like that in the past, but not here. At the beginning of the evening the local celebrities come out one at a time. Bids are done secretly. After dinner each celebrity will be given the name and amount of their highest bidder. The dancing for the night will begin with the participants and their winners. It will be left to them to arrange their dates with each other.” Mark sighed. “Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad.” He shrugged. “It kinda sounds like fun. So, how many people are we expecting and is the plan for the buffet or sit down?” Moving through more pages, she pulled up the guest list and meal plan. “With the cost the guest will be paying to come to the event sit down is best and if we can lavish it up, even better. So, once you and your staff decide on the menu let me know so that I


can add it to the invitations. We only have a couple of months to get this done, the summer months are pressing on us fast.” The worry lines were evident around her brown eyes and the tight set of her shoulders. Reaching out, he squeezed her hand lying on top of the folder. “It’ll all work out, Veronica. We’ll get this hotel running back to its full capacity. It was already beginning to make a name around the area. This is only a set back.” She placed her other hand on top of his and cocooned him in her warmth. “You’re my strength, Mark. What would I do without you?” “The Leaning Tower of Pisa comes to mind.” She slapped the back of his hand and removed her hands altogether. “Well, mister smarty pants. Just so you know you’re one of the participants.” He drew back. “For what?” A sinking feeling started in his chest and ended in his gut. Flicking through the binder, she showed him a page labeled local celebrities. Toward the bottom of the list was MARK LATTEN. His name was in bold Garamond cap letters, behind it the words Chef of the Year was italics. Damn, he knew winning that award was going to cost him. It already made demands on his time he didn’t want. Last month he’d had to head the team that prepared food for the Mayors annual Easter Egg Hunt and that was one of many things required of him this year. The only thing he hadn’t minded was going to spend time at the different high schools and teaching weekend workshop on cooking. He’d considered enrolling Veronica who was the worst of all cooks. “Can I say no?” “You could, but then how would that look when the event is for our hotel.” “No one has to know I was on the list.” He mumbled. The last thing he wanted was to end up the date of some nameless desperate woman. “Fine. I’ll do it for charity, but if you see me going down, save-a-man.” Raising her hand, she said, “I promise. But, who knows, Mark, this woman could be the love of your life.” Only if it were you.


His own words shook him to the core. Mark rose. “I know you and Gabe can take care of most of the administrative stuff. Anything else?” Snapping the binder closed she stood with a grimace. “Yeah, it’s a costume ball.” “As in masks and we don’t know who’s behind them?” That sinking feeling was starting again, the urge to look down and see if he were standing in quicksand assailed him. Now, it was possible he wouldn’t even see the woman until their date. “It’s not a secretive affair. Masks aren’t expected or required.” Veronica’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of the binder. Mark understood. Veronica hated costumes parties. They’d been invited to a Halloween Party and she turned the invitation down and let him know clearly she didn’t like wearing a costume and that was only one of the reasons she didn’t like the holiday. “Ah, I see the problem.” It was his turn to laugh. “Well, I sympathize with you Veronica, but we all have to do our part for charity.” She strutted toward the door. His laugh quieted as an idea began to form in his head. Something that would continue to torment him, but he’d enjoy the meaning just the same. When she reached for the door, prepared to walk out on him, the idea blossomed. “Roni.” He took noted of the stiffening of her spine, but she turned, a single eyebrow arched high. “I know you don’t like disguises, but I have a perfect one for you.” “Let me guess Nefertiti.” “No, my Black queen. I’ll make it easy for you. Someone you can be without changing a thing about how you dress? Her head tilted with interest. “Who?” “Lois Lane.” “The newspaper woman from the comic books.” She looked and sounded confused. “The one and only. But, the great thing about it is newspaper columnist wear suits to work.” He eyed her ensemble. Veronica’s eyes lit up. “Mark you’ve got Einstein blood in your veins.” Rushing across the room she embraced and kissed


him loudly on the cheek. Mark held her against him, and enjoyed the momentary feeling of having her in his arms. The desire to press her close and bury his face in the curve of her neck was overpowering. Thankfully, she stepped out of his arms. “But how are people going to know who I am? I don’t want to have to repeat myself all night.” Shoving his hands deep in his pockets to keep them from reaching out for her, he said, “I’ll make you one of those pin-on name tags with Metropolis Daily Planet.” “What’s that?” Shaking his head, Mark shooed her out of his office. Now all he had to do was get himself a Superman costume. They’d be a perfect match. **** “Now, we have pizza and hot wings. After that ride down from Baltimore, I’m starving.” Karen closed the door after five minutes of flirting and tipping the Latino pizza deliveryman. Crossing the room she set the cardboard cases on the coffee table. Veronica shook her head as she passed her friend. The girl had been in town barely forty-five minutes and she already had a man ready to eat out of her hand. Walking into the kitchen, Veronica gathered plates and napkins. Their drinks were already on the table. “So, how bad is it, Veronica?” Karen yelled from the living room. “What makes you think it’s something bad?” Veronica removed the plates from the cabinet and moved to her pantry grabbing her spare napkin holder. She didn’t want to remove the one from her dinning room. After filling it she took a small table cloth from the lower shelf and headed back into the living room. “Well, you didn’t say a thing to me about putting the greasy pizza box on your high gloss cherry wood table.” “That’s what table cloths are for, Karen.” Veronica strolled back into the living room, holding up the cloth and smiled at her friend. She set the items in her hand on one of the end tables. Lifting the food box, she covered her table then placed everything


on top. “At least I know that whatever is going on hasn’t made you lose your mind.” Karen smiled at her as she leaned back against the couch and crossed her legs. Veronica assessed her friend. Karen was the epitome of sexy comfort with her black leggings, four inch heeled designer leather boots and sheer silk asymmetric tunic and halter top. Karen’s light brown features were accented by the layers of long brown hair falling down her back. Her friend’s highly toned body and bold attitude allowed her to wear what other women only dreamed about. “You make me sound anal, Karen.” Veronica sat on the carpet in her jeans and basic button down shirt. Lifting the edge of the cloth and pointing at the drink coasters, Karen said, “No, Veronica, not anal at all.” Veronica stuck her tongue out at Karen, then began loading her plate with food. Karen followed suit. They ate in silence for a moment giving Veronica time to get her thoughts together. “So, how’s work?” Veronica wiped the grease from her mouth. “Fine.” Karen eyed her and flipped her second slice of pizza around and sank her teeth into the crust first. “The new project?” Veronica picked up a mini drumstick. “Coming along.” Karen grabbed a napkin. “How’s the hotel repairs? Coming along?” “Tiffany’s suggestions have been flowing smoothly. Most of the celebrities have responded and will be coming.” Veronica placed the meatless bone on the side of her plate. “And that gorgeous hunk of a man you call friend?” Karen finished off the last bite of her pepperoni pizza. “I don’t know how you work around that man everyday and keep your hands off him.” Karen moaned. “Would’ve had him in college if he wasn’t in love with someone else.” Unexpectedly, her jaws flexed at hearing Karen’s words. Shocked by the momentary emotion, Veronica pushed it aside. It was ridiculous for her to have any jealousy toward his ex-wife. Wasn’t it? “Yeah, I think he’s still bothered by his divorce from Laverne.”


“You think so?” Karen’s head tilted and she appeared to ponder something. “Well, he hasn’t dated anyone since. It’s been over two years.” Veronica confirmed. “Hm.” Setting her plate on the table, Karen picked up her glass of juice. “Well, enough small talk. You asked me to come for a reason. Spill it.” That’s why she loved Karen. Her best friend was blunt and to the point. With Karen and Mark by her side she could handle anything. “It’s much easier if I show you.” Unfolding her body from the floor, Veronica moved toward the steps and instructed her friend to follow her. “Please tell me this journey is not going to end with you showing me some boil on your butt.” Looking over her shoulder at her friend, she said, “You can guarantee that if there had been a boil on my backside I wouldn’t have called you until after the doctor lanced it and I need help tending to it once I was released from the hospital.” Karen groaned. “That’s disgusting.” They entered her bedroom. “You started it.” “Well, let’s end it before I bring up my pizza.” Karen plopped down on the side of her queen size bed. Veronica crossed the room to her dresser and removed the binder and took a fortifying breath before handing it to Karen. Karen gazed at her, then what she held. “Building families binder number twenty-seven?” Lifting her head, she said, “I don’t get it.” “It’s a donor book.” Concern creased Karen high-yellow features. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need bone marrow or a kidney?” “Good God, no.” Veronica placed a hand on her heart. She never considered other implications the book may have had. “It a donor insemination book.” “If it’s a gift for me. You know I’m not planning to have kids. It would interfere with me and my five point star sailing around the world on our private yacht.” Her eyes became dreamy. “Maybe with Lamman Rucker or John Travolta’s character from Swordfish. Give me a brotha or a bad boy any day.” “Girl, you’re a mess. It’s for me. I want to have a baby.”


“With all the gorgeous men in Virginia Beach, why not snatch one of them up and ask them to roll between the sheets with you for a few days.” Laughing, Karen slapped the binder with her palm. “Except for college, I’ve lived in this area my whole life. If it were that easy, I’d have been married and pregnant by now.”


Chapter Seven “So, why the rush now?” Veronica didn’t know why everyone kept asking her that as if an intelligent woman couldn’t decide on her own that it was time to have children. But, Karen was too good of a friend and had come too far to get a pat answer, so she told her the truth. Karen hugged her when she finished. “I know your aunt meant a lot to you. What she told you about not waiting too long is true. I don’t think she expected you to get it done in a year.” “I know she wasn’t saying now, but her passing just reminded me how much I’ve always wanted to get married and have a family. I think I started pushing myself in my career because my personal life was at a standstill.” Rising Veronica walked to her window. She watched the neighborhood children playing with friends, riding bikes and rolling around on Heelys. Over the last month she even noticed the subdivision she lived in screamed family. In her cul-de-sac she was the only one without kids. “Well, Veronica, it’s your life and you’re a smart woman. If you believe that this is what you want, then I’m behind you.” Shifting her gaze from the Saturday activities to Karen who hadn’t moved from the bed, she said, “Thanks.” “So, what do you need me to help with? I volunteer for all duties except diaper changing.” Karen smirked. Veronica crossed the room. “That’s good to know, but right now I only need assistance with one thing.” “What’s that?” With a dejected look, she said, “Finding a donor.” “Ah. Even though it seems a waste not to get all the good practice in with a sexy man. Feeling strong arms wrapped around you, while the man thrusts powerfully between your thighs as he calls out your name.” She groaned, blew out a loud breath and fanned herself. “But, I’ll respect your sterile choice.” The look of aversion on Karen’s features said it all. Karen’s words painted a vivid picture in Veronica’s mind and


for a moment she almost regretted not experiencing the true art of conceiving a child. But, reality struck and she remembered clearly how that turned out for her in college. “Thank you. The last thing I want is to repeat another sex fiasco, Karen.” “Veronica, don’t allow the inept skills of one man to taint your view for all other possibilities. Jackson Carr might have been a great debater, but evidently since your name wasn’t Merriam or Webster he didn’t know what to do with you.” With a side smile Veronica listened to her friend’s comforting words. Karen was probably correct, but the guys she’d dated since college hadn’t stirred her blood at all beyond a kiss or two. Her old fears rose to the surface. Maybe Jackson’s fumbling moves in the bedroom hadn’t been the problem, but her. “Possibly you’re right. I’ll worry about that some other time. So, back to the book.” Veronica was thankful when her friend respected her decision and remained silent. Karen flipped open the donor book. “Let’s see what we have. How hard can it be to find a perfect specimen of man?” “Apparently very hard since I’ve already had to go in once and renew my loan on the book. In a few days I’ll have to renew it again.” Veronica placed her face in her hands groaning. “Well, what’s wrong with this first one, number two six five?” Reading from the paper she said, “He’s black, medium build, brown eyes, an accountant, athletic, no past mental health issues in his family or major illness.” Mumbling through her hands, Veronica interjected, “He’s only five four. Which means short genes. If I have a girl that would be okay, but if it’s a boy the words ‘I don’t need no short, short man…’ comes to mind.” Karen bounced back on the bed laughing. “You may have a point. Even though that song was not talking about a man’s height but his --” Veronica popped her head up. “I got it.” If Karen started on the conversation of sex, they would never get around to finding a donor. Fingering through a few more pages, Karen paused. “Okay, how about number seven three nine? He’s six five, black, hazel eyes, English teacher, slim build, good teeth, only a family history of high blood pressure. Which means lots of garlic and keep your


child away from pork and salt. His hobbies are interior design, theater, shopping and watching Top Model.” “Notice he didn’t mention sports.” “Gay.” Karen confirmed. “Okay, who’s next?” They continued through the book. Each donor she either found something wrong or Karen crossed them off for one reason or another. Soon, the book and them ended up downstairs cleaning up the remains of their delivery then consumed two bowls of pralines and cream in the dinning room. After over an hour of joking and discussing most of the donor sheets, Karen snapped the book closed. “I can’t take anymore tonight. Maybe we need to attack this later on. Let’s get out of the house, go dancing or to the movies. Maybe I can find donor number five seven three.” “The one that sounds like the pitcher for the Tidewater Tides. Maybe. David Bruner is on the local celebrities list Tiffany put together for the Spring into Summer auction ball.” “Hmm, I might have to send my bid in through you. What’s the starting price again?” Karen stopped in the upstairs hall on her way to the guest bedroom to change. “A thousand. Steve Dumar is also on the list.” “Hmm, he’s closer to my neck of the woods.” Face full of contemplation, Karen asked, “Do you think he could be bought with one thousand five or is that two high?” “One thousand five hundred?” “Are you crazy? With this body, girl, the man should be paying me.” Karen ran her hands down her curves. “I was talking about one thousand and five dollars.” “I think you might be out bid.” “Shoot. I really wanted Steve too.” Karen sashayed into the guest room. Shaking her head, Veronica entered her bedroom to start her shower and find something to wear. **** “Veronica, tell me about the man you see fathering your child.” Karen picked up the donor binder then set it back down on the kitchen table the next morning.


Taking a bowl out of the cabinet and walking to the table, Veronica sat. “You mean the sperm donor’s qualifications?” “Sure. Let’s try that.” Karen sipped from her glass of orange juice. “Describe him to me. Maybe that will help identify which number you should pick.” “Tried that.” Scooping Vanilla yogurt into her bowl, she told her friend about her list. “I’m looking for a guy that’s tall, educated, healthy both mentally and physically. Creative would be nice to offset my business sense.” Veronica paused and for a moment allowed herself to think about if the circumstances were different who she’d really like to father a child with. “He’d like to laugh and have a great smile. Someone who is thoughtful and compassion. Good family ties. A man who would challenge his woman and bring out the best in her.” Karen sighed. “That sounds like a great father, but an even better man.” Hearing the springs in the toaster release, Veronica watched Karen cross the open floor of the kitchen to the counter. She loved her kitchen. It was wide open with lots of counter space. No island to hinder the flow, she hated the large barrier in the center of the room. Not a cook at all, she could barely make canned vegetables, but once she had a child she would have to learn how to do more than cuisine in a box. “Tell me, Karen, which number should I choice?” “Veronica, all night I’ve been thinking about this donor thing.” Karen grabbed her bagels out of the toaster as they popped up. Last night they’d ended up going to Jillian’s at Waterside in Norfolk where Karen walked away with four numbers and invitations to continue the night in sweaty bliss. Veronica had stuck to her own personal resolve of not picking up strange men in bars and had left with her date book as empty as when she arrived. “Did you come up with the magic number?” Veronica poured granola over her bowl of vanilla yogurt as she sat at the four person table in her breakfast nook. “Only if that binder was a box of Lucky Charms and I was even more magically delicious.” Licking her lips and winking, Karen moved back to the table with bagel and honey-nut cream cheese and claimed the seat across from her. “I think you can’t find


who you’re looking for among those document protected pages, because the father of your baby is not in there.” Crunching down on her mouthful of granola, Veronica eyed her friend curiously. “Then where is he?” Karen shrugged and added the topping to her toasted bread. “Maybe, he’s right under your nose.” She bit into her breakfast. Veronica frowned and continued to eat in silence. Under her nose, yeah right, only if it was the Quaker Oats man. Maybe this was a pipe dream that would never come to fruition. She didn’t want to give up hope, but even Karen had struck out in finding a suitable donor for her. Tomorrow she was taking the binder back. Maybe after the auction ball and the hotel’s issues were firmly settled she would be able to re-attack it with a clearer head. **** Mark heard the jingling of the bells over his head as he walked into the sixth costume store in the Hampton Roads area. A week ago he’d taken a chance of ordering a Superman suit on line. That was a horrid event. When the costume arrived it was two size two small in an obscene way. Too include the red briefs and cape had been purple instead of red, a true fiasco. With three days left until the ball, he was sitting empty handed. Now, he was desperate. It was his sheer luck that one of the other oceanfront hotels had decided to host a Comic Convention and people had begun to buy and rent their costumes months in advance. An hour ago he’d called this store and spoke with one of the clerks who told him that there were two Superman costumes in. He’d requested a hold on the suits and had rushed over to the Shore Drive store, Suited Up. Standing in there now and seeing the clutter of clothes and the racks jam packed with costumes from every era and theme, he wondered how they could locate anything in the store. “May I help you?” A voice spoke to him among the clutter. Weaving and bobbing around the clothes, Mark finally located a short pint size older man with silver gray hair and bushy eyebrows sitting on a stool behind what he could gather was a counter. “Hi. I’m Mark Latten and I called an hour ago inquiring about


a super--” “Hero’s costume. Yes, yes.” With a warm smile he popped off the stool, making him almost disappear among the bundle of costumes stacked on the shelf. The short man came around the counter in an amazing brisk fashion. “I have them right over here in the colorful collection.” Arranged by color? If it works for them. Mark, sighed with relief. Finally, he’d be able to get his hands on what he need. “It’s Superman, right?” Mark followed him through the store. “Yes, yes. Superman.” The older man vanished inside of a rack of brightly color costumes then popped back out with his hand clutching a poll and hook. Digging high in the rack with the hook, the older man fished out a vivid blue and red costume. Mark was on the verge of clapping his hands with joy, when finally the Superman outfit popped out. “Your son is going to look great in this!” The owner’s voice rang clear with the sound of victory pleased that they had it. Mark wasn’t pleased at all. “It’s not for a child. It was for me.” He grumbled. “You.” The old man mumbled and frowned. “Travis, my grandson can never get anything right. Boy, I’d fire him, but no one else would hire him.” His face lit up. “No worries, if you need something for the comic con in adult size I have just the thing for you.” Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “What?” Digging and pulling once again, the older man removed another costume and even full grown man size. “Hawkeye.” The purple and blue costume with mask and bow and arrow included dangled from the hook before Mark’s eyes. Even as a boy, no one ever wanted to be Hawkeye. “I’ll pass.” Mark turned prepared to leave the store. “Does it have to be a comic book character?” “Not anymore.” Mark threw over his shoulder as he continued his stride toward the door. “Then wait a minute. I think you’d be great in this. We just got a new one in. The women always love it.” That made his feet pause. He wasn’t worried about women, just one woman. “Who is it?” “Not who, what.” Rushing briskly on small legs and feet the


older man grabbed a box off the counter. “A police officer. Next to a fireman…the ladies eat it up.” Mark was about to turn it down, but then he did have to remember that this auction was supposed to bring in money for the hotel. In doing that he would need to attract the highest bid he could manage. “How much to rent?” “We don’t rent here. We sale.” The old man used a gnarled finger to push up his bifocals, his shaggy eyebrows hung over the lens like tree limbs shading his eyes. He didn’t really care to purchase a cop uniform for one night, but with only a few days remain he was desperate and had already spent too much time as it was trying to be Superman. Exhaling, he fished into his back pocket for his wallet. “Fine, I’ll get it.” The old man gave him a warm smile, shoved the box into his hands and trotted over to the chaotic pile and register. Lois Lane and a cop who’d ever heard of such a thing. **** Strolling into Veronica’s makeshift office, Mark expected to see the co-owner buried deep in her notes and plans for the evening. However, Veronica wasn’t seated at her desk. Chucking the mock press badge for her costume onto her desk, he looked around the room. Gabe had just left a meeting with her forty-five minutes ago and confirmed she was up here working. Glancing toward the small kitchenette and then walking toward the sitting room he didn’t see her. Turning to leave he noticed the gap in the sliding wood doors separating the bedroom from the rest of the room. There was Veronica lying on her stomach sleep. Drawn to the room, he moved silently on the carpet and observed her from the door. She lay in the center of the bed, sheet riding against the rise of her hips. He allowed his gaze to roam her eye-pleasing curves as the sheet conformed to her full thighs and hugged her luscious backside. His shaft stirred behind his jeans at the sight. Admiring the slight amount of brown skin bared below the


hem of her camisole, it revealed just enough to tease him. His mouth watered with the desire to lay kisses there. As his thought continued, so did his erection, it swelled further and began to press against his zipper. Reaching down he adjusted himself for comfort, he couldn’t pull his gaze away. Following the silk top up her body, he noted the wild array of her locs around her face and her arms tucked beneath the pillow under her head. She must have taken her hair down to sleep. His fingers itched to bury deep in the mass of her hair, having it twist around his fingers as he held her where he wanted her. Sighing, he knew that could never happen. His Veronica was all about control. Gazing at her face, he took note of her features, relaxed and free of the stress and worry that consumed her over the last couple of months since the flood and planning of the custom auction ball. She needed this rest. Her sigh drew his attention as her legs parted under the sheet and her hips wiggled then settled once again. What do you dream about, Veronica? Her plump lips, pouted as if hearing his secret words. As if inviting a lover’s kiss. Her delectable mouth drew him, but he restrained himself, remaining at the door and not permitting himself to go further. **** He stood behind her, the heat of his body imprinted along her backside. She couldn’t even recall how they’d gotten here. To this moment. And she didn’t care about anything except the feel of his warm breath fluttering against the side of her neck. The sensation caused heaviness in her breast and her nipples to tighten. Panting she leaned into the strength of his chest. Her arms were raised above her head and pressed flat on the cool surface. He held her wrists tight, secure and kept her from moving as he thrust deep inside of her, almost too much for her to take. Pleasure and pain had become one. No thought of struggling entered her mind, she wanted him. Wanted the full length of his shaft to caress her soul and never stop. She wanted to cry out. She needed to express her enjoyment


of everything he was doing to her. One of his hands slipped under her camisole, squeezed her breast and flicked her nipple. Her moan rippled up from the pit of her stomach and didn’t stop before leaving her mouth. Keeping her eyes closed she refused to allow the blankness of the wall to intrude on the sublime ecstasy. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see his face and didn’t know who he was. No. The only thing she cared about was this rejuvenating passion like she’d never known before. You know him. Her soul seemed to whisper, but she couldn’t focus enough to discover it. Pleasure rocked through her as her toes curled into the carpet and her knees shook uncontrollably. She was so close to an orgasm her ears were ringing. The ringing became so intense it seemed as if it was outside of herself. Outside her body. The sound became so demanding she opened her eyes. Instead of seeing the ecru colored wall before her, it was the last rays of sunlight bathing the room and casting shadows of purple and red along the bed. How did I get in bed? The buzzing sound on the nightstand clued her into the phone’s interruption of her dream. Her foggy brain couldn’t decide if she should be thankful or pissed that she was denied even virtual ecstasy. Rolling to the side of the bed she lifted the receiver and took a deep breath to remove the sleepy sound. “Hello.” “Hey, sweetness, you sleeping on the job now?” There was concern in Mark’s voice. Pushing herself up, she rotated her head around her shoulders removing the last threads of the dream. “You know I’m no good after seven if I don’t get a nap. We should have made this a lunch time auction.” She stifled a yawn. “More my time of day.” “I’m glad you rested. So, you ready to do this?” “Yes, I am. I need to change into the other suit I brought in. I’ll be down shortly.” “Definitely. Do you want me to come up to get you?” Pushing her locs back that tumbled down the side of her face, she stifled a yawn. Looking at the clock on the nightstand she made sure she hadn’t over slept. Nope, one hour until show time. “No. I have to do one final walk through than meet the Mayor in


the front.” “Got it. See you down stairs, sleepy head.” The side of her lips twitched at the beginnings of a smile as her mind focused on the comfortable aspects of her life as the last thread of the erotic scene faded away. “Not all of us can be night owls, Mark.” “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m just proud that you took advantage of the downtime.” “Thanks. I’ll see you downstairs.” “See ya.” Mark’s end went dead first. Placing the phone back on the charger, she stretched her arms above her head. Lowering hands, she glanced down and rotated her wrist. Images of a man holding them resurfaced in her mind. They didn’t feel any different, but she reminded herself it was just a dream. There was no way in real life that any man would confine her heart, mind and surely not her body. All this talk of men and babies with Karen must’ve been resting in her subconscious and moved to the forefront while she slept. Rising she ignored the voice in her head, saying that the position in her fantasy wasn’t the optimal for baby making, but pure pleasure. Groaning with guilt she entered the bathroom to refresh her senses with icy water to her face hoping it would be enough to shock her brain into its normal function. This was an important night and she needed all her wits about her.


Chapter Eight Mark cruised around the kitchen, checking and rechecking the menu preparation and meal set-up. This night was important to the hotel’s future and he wanted to ensure everything went well. “How long are you going to hide out in the kitchen?” Herman whipped and mixed his special blend glaze for the filet mignon, but kept an intermittent eye on Mark. Mark frowned. “Hiding? This affair is a major undertaking for the hotel.” Herman pushed the glaze aside. “I know it is. But you’re still hiding.” Mark could hear Mayor Fordnerbro giving her speech in the ballroom. Thanking everyone for participating and explaining to them how important a prospering hotel and other businesses on the oceanfront were to up keeping and new development projects for Virginia Beach. Her speech was winding down, which meant that it was dawning closer to ‘showtime’ for him. Moving around the kitchen and trying to do a good job of avoiding Herman’s eye contact, Mark said, “Look, I have plenty of time. Gabe hasn’t even began to introduce--” Before he could finish his sentence, Gabriel’s voice reverberated through the sound system in the ballroom. “You were about to say?” Herman stepped toward Mark and crossed his arms over his chest. Grumbling, Mark said, “Nothing.” Herman didn’t even attempt to hide his smile. “I’ve got things here. You go have fun and remember…” Heading toward the door, Mark turned and eyed his friend. “What?” “When you’re up there shaking your thang for the hotel’s cause, don’t take less than a hundred.” Mark growled, turned and walked out of the kitchen as Herman’s barking laughter followed him. Mark made a mental note to remind himself to put Herman on K.P. duty tonight, washing hundreds of dishes should be enough to take the humorous wind out of his funny bone’s sail.


**** Veronica was impressed how well everything was falling into place. All the guest and contestants had arrived, filling the room and eight-person round tables in a sea of colorful costumes. Mayor Fordnerbro had just exited the stage after giving an awesome speech about community coming together to assist each other in a time of need. She closed by saying that the funds brought in tonight was paramount to ensure more vacancies for summer tourist and higher revenue for the city which would benefit funding for roads, schools, and many of the programs needed during these hard economic times. By the time the Mayor had closed, everyone was clapping and standing to their feet as if it was a campaign speech and they were ready to re-elect her. Veronica didn’t care. Whatever it took to get them hype and making large donations for her hotel repairs, she was in full support. As the mayor headed out of the hotel to another engagement, Veronica shook her hand and thanked her for coming. When Veronica returned to her seat, Gabriel, the emcee for the night was already on the stage. “Well, ladies and gentleman, the staff here at Great Escapes would like to thank you once again for your time, participation and support of this fundraiser. In a minute we will bring out the volunteers one at a time. Most of these people you are familiar with around town, on the news and local magazines. In front of each of you is a voting sheet with a list of all our dating volunteers for your personal notes.” Gabriel smiled and glanced around the room. “After all the auctioneer dates have come out we will begin dinner. At anytime you may go to the ballot box and place your vote until dinner is over. At that time the bids will be screened, then announced after dessert. Any questions?” Veronica watched Gabriel pause giving people time to absorb the instructions. She scanned the room and watched as the guest fidgeted around in their seats in anticipation of the dates appearances. When no questions were asked, Gabriel announced Aneesah Smith, Miss Virginia Peanut. The svelte black woman came


strutting out on stage with a smile as big as the umbrella she was twirling over her head. Dressed as a seductive Scarlett O’Hara with her small waist and ample bosom emphasized, her breast rose high above the low neckline of her dress with each breath she took. The pageant winner quickly stole the attention of most of the men in the place. Three men almost toppled their chairs over in a rush to get to the ballot box. Sitting at one of the front tables, Veronica smiled behind her hand. If each celebrity date garnered this much excitement, they’d have enough money to make all the repairs and then some. The evening went on, one local celebrity after another walked the runway in their customs playing it for the guest, and then taking their seat at their designated tables. Veronica had to admit she was enjoying herself. “That was fun, I must admit, Veronica. Thanks for the invite.” Inayah Taylor, the district attorney of Virginia Beach, who’d won more cases than any other prosecutor in the area, took a seat at her table. Veronica smiled, eying the woman in the Wonder Woman costume. “Thanks, Inayah. We couldn’t have pulled this night together without the local celebrities agreeing to the auction.” “Glad to help. I think I like being called a celebrity.” “I must say that I can admire a woman with the confidence to become Wonder Woman for the masses.” “Then you didn’t hear my knees knocking as I walked onto the platform.” Inayah laughed, then stopped abruptly as her gaze focused on the makeshift stage. “Oh, my. I’d love to be arrested by him any day.” Turning to see what or who had captured Inayah’s eye, Veronica stared at her best friend who was doing an excellent job of imitating a cop. Standing six-two with broad shoulders and brown hair, dressed in a navy blue officers’ uniform that fit him perfectly, he stole her breath. Apparently, every woman in a three mile radius as well, if the loud gasps in the room was anything to measure by. Mark was a sight to behold. Strutting down the walkway, with enough swagger in his hips to put Daniel Craig to shame, Mark commanded attention as the theme music to Cops played. She’d always had a thing for men in uniform, they look commanding and in control of everything


around them. The shirt fit the wide span of Mark’s shoulders and chest as the three buttons he’d left undone showed off the light sprinkling of hair covering his chest. Another favorite. Snug and appealing were the two words Veronica would have used to describe the contour of the pants around his hips and thighs. There was a hint of powerful muscle flexing under the material as he walked. The temperature in the room rose and so did the heat between her thighs. The memory of her dream flittered through her mind recreating the moment she was restrained against the wall by her wrist. Lost in the vision for a moment as well as the view before her, she recognized the tightening of her nipples. Have mercy. Veronica swallowed and worked hard to reign herself in. This is Mark, your best friend, get it together. Rationalizing her reaction to being caught up in the moment, she willfully pushed the thoughts out of her mind. The effect she had been experiencing was do to the lustful energy of the other women, similar to the situation she’d had two years ago at Charmagne’s bachelorette party. A group of women in a room moaning over a nice looking guy could make the most reasonable of women become rash. Hell, the night in Las Vegas even sensible Tiffany had run off and married the stripper. But, tonight there were no naked men and as always, she was in control. At the end of the stage, Mark pulled off the dark sunshades, and smiled. The women went crazy over his hazel eyes, a deeper green at the moment, intense. “I bet he’d make beautiful babies.” Inayah sighed as her focus remained locked on Mark. Sighing? Oh, my God, Mark has women sighing. Veronica wanted to laugh, but the sound never made it passed her lips as her mind comprehended the district attorney’s words. Babies. Veronica’s mind began to race with all the facts she knew about Mark. Attractive. Smart. Kind. Funny. Trust worthy. Honest. Committed. Achiever. Financial stability. Shows initiative. Good with kids. Warm hearted. Out going. Great cook. Mark.


All this time she had been searching through the donor binder when she had a perfect candidate before her. She and Mark had been friends for years. They would do anything for each other. Why not put their genes together and make a baby. She grinned with the thought. Once she explained to her best friend how empty she realized her life was without her aunt, he’d be on board to help her. “Can dating contestants vote?” Inayah’s voice interrupted her train of thought. Looking at the woman across the table, who still hadn’t taken her lust filled eyes off Mark as he turned and exited the stage. “Anyone can put in a bid for a date.” “Perfect.” The honey skinned woman in her action figure boots launched herself out of the chair and quick stepped over to the ballot box where at least five other women too include the daughter of Tidewater’s largest dealership owner. “Shoot.” Veronica mumbled to herself. If any of those women go out with Mark and they hit it off, I won’t be able to ask him to help me. Ethically, she wouldn’t allow herself to tread in another woman’s lane. Considering her choice for a moment, she questioned how bad she wanted a baby. It wasn’t hard for her to come to the conclusion as she recalled the time she spent researching the binder and how dejected she felt when she was unable to find a suitable match for herself. With her mind made up, there was no doubt what she had to do. **** “Is it too late to renege?” Mark stood next to Veronica on the outer fringes of the dance floor. Everyone crowded around anxious to hear who won the dates. Standing in the back, he made it a point not to make eye contact with some of the women present. During dinner, women had come by the table where he sat with Veronica and a few of their guests and slipped him notes. They held everything from numbers to questions on his talent with the cuffs hooked to his belt. He was meat on display for a hungry pack of she-wolves. Several times he’d wanted to run, chiding himself on his


decision not to eat in the kitchen or locked in his office. Veronica could have slipped a piece of paper under his door telling him who he would have to have dinner with to honor the contest. “Yes, it is too late to get out of it, Mark.” Veronica looked at him with a twinkle in her eye and a smile that caused his heart to leap. She probably was laughing on the inside at the fact he was uncomfortable with having so much attention on him. For a man who did his best work behind a swinging door, this was hard. Music played softly through speakers as Gabe’s voice drew his attention. The hotel manager began to call the contestants up one at a time and announcing who their date was and the amount donated. Mark was amazed and thrilled at the donations spent for one date. Each date trotted to the dance floor grinning as they stood beside their contestant. Taking a deep breath, the tension in the back of Mark’s neck tightened. District Attorney Taylor had just been called with her date Paul Chavez the owner of the cities largest surf shop and club, which meant he was next. “Here, goes nothing.” Mark whispered to his partner, noticing the nibble Veronica was giving to her bottom lip, she was anxious. Knowing his best friend, she was probably calculating the money in her head to ensure they would have enough for the repairs. By his adding, they were doing very well. He was sure that Steve Dumar, dressed as Zorro would seal the deal. “I should have bought myself out.” He chuckled. “Hold your head up high, it’s all for charity, right?” Veronica told him. “Once again we have our very own, Mark Latten, Tidewater’s Chef of the Year.” Gabe announced as if he were a host on a game show. Shaking his head, Mark meandered his way through the crowd toward the dance floor to stand beside Gabe unable to stop himself from wondering who had bid on him and how much his excellent culinary skills were worth. He prayed he wouldn’t be embarrassed by bringing in the lowest amount or nothing. He brushed that thought away. Gabe was too good a friend not to have warned him before this moment. All the women in the place were beautiful and he wouldn’t


have minded spending an evening with them, but only one would hold his heart. Glancing over the sea of heads, he met Veronica’s gaze, fear and uncertainty seemed to cloud her face. He didn’t have time to ponder what was going on with her before Gabe’s voice cut into his thoughts. **** Veronica could feel her heart beat so fast she was sure she’d pass out at any moment. Sweat was rolling down the center of her back below her shirt and suit jacket. Her mind bounced back and forth between the thoughts of did she do the right thing by voting on Mark to she definitely did the right thing; followed by did she bid enough. She didn’t know which she feared the most. Losing the date with Mark or winning the date with Mark and telling him what she needed from him. She felt Mark’s intense gaze on her. Meeting his hazel eyes, she relaxed and attempted a small smile. Mark was her best friend. Things would work out, one way or the other. Gabriel unsealed the envelope. “Well, this is a surprise. I guess with the enthusiasm of the evening no one could resist getting involved in the excitement. As you all know the bidding didn’t exempt anybody from entering. Mark will be going out with our very own, Veronica Martinson. Her winning bid was twenty thousand dollars.” The room went silent and for a moment Veronica was afraid she possibly over shot, until the room erupted in a thunderous applause around her. Her guest smiled and congratulated her; even Inayah gave her a wink. “Veronica, come up her and get your date.” Gabriel called out gaily. The people in front of her parted making an aisle between her and the dance floor. “You’re a genius. Thanks for saving me, Veronica.” Mark nudged her with his shoulder. “We will be discussing the issue of you using your inheritance,” he whispered. “You’re wel-come,” she chimed. That’s not all we will be discussing.


“Well, Mark’s bid was only out done by Virginia Beaches very own Steve Dumar from the Washington Wizard.” Gabriel announced, cutting into her thoughts. Steve “Zorro” Dumar stood next to Gabriel with his arms cross over her broad chest and a confident smile just as big. “Karliegh Bland’s bid of thirty-two thousand dollars has won her a date.” Gabriel’s words were almost drowned out, by the peal of scream from the crowd. Karliegh, the young widow of a local exclusive yacht club jumped up and down, then rushed threw the throng until she reached the basketball star and leaped into his arms. Steve’s wide eyed expression looked as if he were looking for the nearest exit to bolt through. It was too bad that he didn’t move as fast on the dance floor as he did the court, allowing Karliegh to lock her arms around his neck and pile his cheek with kisses. The opening notes of Closer by Goapele began to play, good naturedly Steve relaxed and hugged her back. Veronica smiled as she watched Steve coax Karliegh to release the choke hold she had around his neck and moved with her to the music. “Well, my lovely winner. I do believe I owe you the first dance of the night along with a dinner date in the next week.” Mark grabbed her hand and led her further toward the center of the crowded dance floor. As the American soul artist sang about moving closer to her dreams, Veronica leaned into her best friend and felt her heart leap and her back tingled underneath Mark’s touch. She equated it to the fact that she too was moving closer to her dreams, in business as well as motherhood. Like everything else in her life she would plan her pregnancy out and follow it meticulously. She’d learned that things worked out for the best when sketched out step by step. Once she explained to Mark the reason behind what she wanted and what the child would mean to her, he would be eager to help. They would be a team; just like when she’d come to him to start up the hotel they both had always wanted. She’d done all the research and leg work, by the time she met with him, it was practically a done deal. Except for the restaurant portion, not wanting to step on his toes she’d left that part to him. Almost giddy, Veronica wished she had thought of using


Mark a few months back, it would have saved her a lot of time and effort.


Chapter Nine Mark held Veronica in his arms, when what he really wanted to do was pull her tightly to his frame. With her height she was perfectly fit against him in all the right places. But, he was aware of several things. One, there were too many people around who were watching them closely, especially with Veronica having the winning bid. And two, Veronica would have questions once she felt his body react to her soft, warm curves aligned with his. “A penny for your thoughts.” Leaning back Veronica stared at him. He chuckled low. If she knew his thoughts she’d run screaming from the room. Her light brown eyes sparkled under the chandelier lights. She looked at peace and happy, some of the worry over the passed few weeks was barely evident in her face now. Lifting a hand, he stroked her high cheekbone. Her skin was as dark as a coffee bean and she stirred his sense just as strong. She was beautiful tonight in her suit and her locks pulled back in a tight bun. Even though there wasn’t anything different in her appearance than the way she dressed daily, but knowing that she had bid on him tonight gave him hope. Maybe, just maybe she was starting to feel something for him. Pushing his thoughts away, he chuckled low and answered her. “Let’s just say I’m rejoicing in the fact that you won.” “So am I.” She patted his shoulder. “You looked so pitiful standing up there with all the women in the room making cat calls at your sexy cop uniform.” She sighed dramatically as she straightened out his collar. “I had to save you.” He searched her features attempting to see if there was something more, anything to confirm his hopes. “Whatever the reason, I’m indebted to you.” He placed a kiss on her forehead, lingering for a moment giving her his silent message and inhaling her scent, a unique blend. Her signature scent of apples and ginger. Smiling, she said, “I’m going to hold you to that.” Moving away, he stared at his best friend for a moment. There was something in her voice and gaze as she spoke, hidden from


him. Once again, he was struck with the knowledge that something more was going on with Veronica then she was letting on. Since her aunt’s passing she had become distant, occasionally disappearing for hours at a time without answering her cell phone. He wasn’t her keeper, but they had always been close and shared everything. Mark wondered if there may be a new guy in her life that she hadn’t told him about. That may explain it and kill him at the same time. “May I have the next dance, Officer Latten?” Ayesha Russell, a local urban designer asked standing next to them as the last bars of the slow song blended into Mary J. Blige’s Just Fine. “Definitely.” Mark let go of Veronica. Veronica stepped back and looked at Ayesha. “He’s all yours. Mark, enjoy yourself for a while. I’ll find Gabriel, secure things and we will all meet in the morning.” Her eyes alight with humor, she said, “Try not to arrest anyone tonight.” “Gotcha, boss.” He called out, when what he really wanted to tell Veronica was that she was the only person he wanted to restrain. Mark’s gaze followed Veronica’s retreating form as she bounced her shoulders to the up beat tempo of the music. It was a natural progression for his eyes to migrate down to her hips. Nice full round sexy hips. She had a body meant for pleasure. It was just too bad she didn’t realize it. Sighing he knew that even if she did, he’d be the last person she’d yield it to. Just friends. The story of his life. He turned to the pretty petite designer with her long jet black hair swaying as she began to dance to the beat. It had been years since he’d been dancing and he’d almost forgotten how much he liked it. Since all the bidding was over, he could now relax and enjoy the celebration of the night. **** Veronica got home and stepped out of her shoes as she rushed to the phone. She was so excited about the night’s events that she needed to talk to someone. Karen. With shoes dangling from one hand and her cordless phone in the other she walked up the stairs to her room as she dialed. “This better be damn good for you calling me in the middle of


Sex and the City season five.” Karen grumbled into the phone. Veronica smiled, nothing was going to burst her bubble today. “What are you doing watching SATC reruns, aren’t you supposed to be working?” She placed her shoes on the rack in her clothes. “I’m working hard on not working. I just got home an hour ago from the office and have to be back in tomorrow, so I’m zoning out.” “Good for you. Now pause the DVD.” Cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear, she removed her pants and placed them in the dry cleaner basket. “Would you like to hear how the fundraiser went?” “Of course, are you going to start off with telling me that you placed a bid for Steve Dumar for me and won?” There was a rustling sound that came through the phone as if Karen was sitting up. “When can I expect him.” Laughing, Veronica said, “I’m sorry, but, my bid would’ve been beat out by the woman who won.” “Ah, hell, just when I was so close to adding a basketball player to the notches on my candy apple red stilettos.” Clutching the phone, Veronica shook her head. “I don’t think I want to know how many notches you have already or how many of them include athletes.” “Well, let’s just say that I filled one heel already and the last notch was even a hockey player when my job sent me to Canada for training.” Veronica sighed. Karen chuckled. Removing her suit jacket and hung it up, Veronica unpinned the Daily Planet badge from the lapel and stared at it. It was another piece of evidence of how well Mark knew and understood her. “Before this conversation goes any further, I’m going to tell you the reason for my call.” “Shoot.” “First off. Tonight we brought in more than enough money to begin making the repairs needed for the hotel. The community showed up and contributed better than I expected.” “People love a cause.” “And I’m so glad they do.” Crossing the room, she placed the Lois Lane name tag on her dresser a memento of the night her


dreams came true. “That hotel of yours is beautiful and I’m glad people wanted to be apart of its restoration.” Karen yawned. Removing her blouse, Veronica headed into the bathroom for a shower. “Well, since you’re tired and have an early morning than I will wait until later to tell you about the man who will be fathering my baby.” She slipped her announcement in and waited. Two seconds later, Karen voice spoke calmly into the line. “What did you say?” Pretending a nonchalant attitude, Veronica began pulling out her facial cleanser. “Oh, nothing. Just ‘My baby daddy’.” Karen erupted in laughter at the mention of the old nineties spoof-type rap song. “I don’t know which is more pitiful, the fact that you tried to slip that comment in on me or that you remember that song.” “I don’t even want to try and decide.” Veronica washed off the minute amount of make-up that she usually wore. “Now that I’m fully awake. Who’s the man? Where did you meet him? It better not be Steve Dumar.” “It’s not Steve.” She lifted her hand and released the band holding her locks back from her face. “But, Mark.” “Latten?” Karen’s shock was evident in her voice. Fingering the individual strands as they cascaded around her face she said, “He’s the only Mark I know.” “When did the two of you become an item?” Taken aback, Veronica frowned into the mirror. “Girl, we’re no item.” “But you said--” “He’s going to be my sperm donor.” There was a heavy silence on the other line. “Karen, did you fall asleep?” “Possibly.” Karen was quiet again, then spoke, “Mark agreed to drop his little men in a cup?” Making circles with moisturizer on her face, Veronica inquired, “Why wouldn’t he. We are best friends. As soon as I tell him why I need his swimmers, he’ll do it.” “Ah, Mark doesn’t know that he’s been selected.” Veronica recapped her moisturizer. “I’ll tell him on our dinner date this week.”


“What date?” “That’s right…you keep interrupting me so I haven’t had a chance to tell you. I used the money for my in vitro on my bid for Mark.” “Something tells me I should have a drink in my hand.” Karen mumbled. Laughing, Veronica said, “Girl, you make it sound so serious.” “Isn’t it?” That question made her pause. “When I saw you a few weeks ago, you didn’t have a person in mind. Now all of a sudden you’ve set your ovaries on Mark.” “It’s not all of a sudden, Karen.” Veronica felt herself getting angry. Here she thought Karen would be happy for her. “Look, you’re the one who told me that the answer was right under my nose.” Karen sighed. “Veronica, I know how much this means to you. I know you didn’t call me to hear me interrogate you. So, I’ll just say good luck on your dinner. Call me after the date.” Turning the shower on, she said, “You know I will, so don’t make plans on Friday.” Her friend laughed. “Girl, unlike your dating card which is more empty than full, I’ve had a date scheduled for weeks. But, I will keep my cell phone on.” Veronica shook her head. “That’s good enough. Hugs girl.” “Kisses are better.” Karen sang into the line and hung up. Staring down at the phone in her hand, Veronica mused on how the conversation didn’t go as she thought it would. On the way home, she surmised Karen would be jumping up and down that she not only found the man she wanted to donate for her baby, but that it was Mark. A good friend. Hell, even the district attorney could see that Mark was prime flesh for a fatherhood position. Removing her undergarments she got into the shower. She had to remember that this all had come about kind of suddenly and just as she had been taken aback with the initial thought, Karen hadn’t been expecting it either. As the shower washed away the dirt of the day, all her worries ran down the drain as well. Friday would be here soon enough and


she still needed to mull over how she wanted to approach this with Mark. Mark, her baby’s daddy. Her laughter echoed off the tile wall.


Chapter Ten “Hey, beau…tiful.” Mark stood at Veronica’s door starring at her. It was as if she’d stepped out of his dreams in a gorgeous twotoned strapless tie-dye ankle length dress. The pink, brown and white blended together down her body hinting at the curves hidden beneath. Below the hem her toes peeked out of her heeled sandals. Allowing his gaze to move back to her face, he approved of the fact she’d pulled her now curly locs high on top of her head leaving her neck bare along with her shoulders and arms. “Wow.” “I did a little shopping, Karen-style, today.” Veronica smiled, but Mark didn’t miss the shy look in her eyes. This outfit wasn’t as seductive as her friend Karen liked to dress, but fit Veronica very well. Almost as much as the suits she wore or the jeans she slipped over her full hips when they were away from the office. “You look great. Are you ready to go?” She held up her purse. “I’m all yours for the night.” He quickly smothered the groan that would have come out at her statement. If only she knew how much he wanted those words to be true. Dinner and dance was what he planned for their date, but if he’d had his choice of dessert Veronica and his relationship would never be the same again. **** “This place is amazing.” The matri’d had just walked away from their table as Veronica took in the ambiance of Luigi Savoia’s, an elegant piano bar restaurant in Willoughby Spit. She heard about the place from friends, but had never had an opportunity to eat there. The breath taking atmosphere was only second to the pianist stroking the keys and bring a soft jazz feel to the place. It was romantic. This was a date. “It is something and the food here is just as amazing.” Mark watched her from across the room. Eyeing him, she asked, “So, how many dates have you taken to eat here?”


“Just one. Her name is Veronica, do you know her?” She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, then that only leaves one other reason you can vouch for the food. You know the Chef.” A wide smile stretched his lips. “Her name is Julie Chanel. I went to culinary school with her. Julie’s specialty is desserts, but she perfected Italian cuisine like nobody’s business. She opened this restaurant a year before we started on the hotel.” “Well, we’ll definitely have to stay for dessert.” “How did I know you’d say that?” Their conversation was cut short when the waiter stepped to their table and took their drink order. Veronica ordered a glass of house red wine then lifted her menu and pretended to study. Tonight was the night. She had skirted around talking to Mark all week trying to plan how to broach the baby subject with him. Her mind had conjured up everyway from opening her door in a maternity outfit and asking Mark if he wanted to help her fill it. She thought about asking the waiter to slip a note under his plate. Even now she wondered if the pianist new the music to Anne Walsh’s Baby Mine. Mark was her friend and there was no need for her to be nervous about talking to him, so she pushed her thoughts aside for the moment and truly concentrated on her menu. The right moment would come during dinner and then she’d tell him. “So what do you recommend?” Everything sounded so delicious she couldn’t make up her mind. “I’m considering--” “The Chef’s choice of the night of course.” A medium height white lady with chestnut brown hair pinned back in a French twist below her tall Chef’s hat strutted up to the table. “Julie!” Mark exclaimed as he rose and pulled her into a hug. “I heard my competition was out here scoping out the place.” The woman’s Boston accent was rich as she spoke. “No fear in that. I’m all American cuisine.” “I know. You still have me craving your steaks.” She elbowed him. Veronica eyed the two of them, wondering if anything had ever been between them, but witnessed nothing but a friendly banter. “Then you’ll have to come by the hotel soon.” Mark invited.


“I will.” Julie smiled. “Speaking of which…this lovely lady is Veronica Martinson, my partner.” Mark gestured to her and Veronica stood up. “Ms. Martinson, you and Mark’s fundraising event for your hotel has been all over the local news.” Rising, Veronica shook hands with the friendly Chef. “Veronica, please.” “Julie.” “It was a big event and it meant a lot to myself and Mark how the community stepped up and helped.” “I’m glad everything went well.” Folding her arms she looked over at Mark with a smirk. “I’d hate to see this guy standing in the unemployed cook’s line.” “Or some truck stop diner off 95.” Veronica joined in. “God forbid.” Mark chuckled. “I’d make you hire me as a dishwasher first.” Julie scrunched her forehead, pretending to consider his qualifications. “Let me see your hands.” She made a tsk-tsk sound when she saw Mark’s hands palm up. “I’m afraid those hands are too soft. It’s probably been years since you washed fine china.” Veronica laughed. Crossing his arms over his chest, Mark eyed Julie. “Don’t you have some orders to prepare?” “Yup. Veronica, it was great meeting you.” “You too, Julie.” Julie turned and hugged Mark. “Maybe after the summer rush is over, I’ll come check out your place.” “Great. Bring Jacob and the kids.” “Kids, are you kidding? Jacob and I will be at the hotel for our anniversary. If we can find a babysitter.” Julie pouted. “You got it. Even though the last time I watched them three years ago your two boys tied me up for a good ‘ole fashion Indian pow-wow.” Veronica lifted and eyebrow at Mark. Him babysitting. It was one more thing she could add to her list of ‘Why Mark would be the Perfect Father.’ Backing up toward the kitchen, Julie called out, “I promise I’ll put all the rope in the attic this time.” “Promises, promises.” Mark mumbled, turning back to the


table, he sat. “So, I guess you’re having the Chef specialty tonight?” Harry the waiter asked as he arrived at the table after Julie’s departure. “I believe we are.” Veronica smiled at the waiter as he filled their wine and water glasses than departed. Mark consumed the time they waited for their food in talking about his and Julie’s time in culinary school. Some of the stories he told her wasn’t new but now that she had a face to put with it, she enjoyed them even more. **** “How was your Crespelle alla Fiorentina?” Mark asked. “Spinach, ricotta and tomatoes…three of my favorite things wrapped in a crepe. How could she go wrong?” Veronica moaned. Lifting an eyebrow at her, he said, “Hey, let’s not get too carried away. Remember I’m your favorite Chef.” He shoved a delicious forkful of his own food into his mouth. Quietly, she laid her fork on the edge of her plate and looked abashed. “I’m sorry, Mark. This is nothing compared to our pizza night.” Leaning back in his chair, he smiled. “I don’t cook on pizza night. Poppa John’s does.” Veronica feigned shock. “I never knew. All this time.” “Save it, Roni. Pizza night is always at your house and you order it.” She scrunched her nose. “I do, don’t I?” Unable to resist Veronica when she was playful, he reached across the table and lifted her hand, placing a kiss on the back. “So, are you enjoying your date so far?” “Absolutely. The restaurant is great, but the company makes it fabulous. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.” “Glad to hear it.” He couldn’t stop his heart from leaping in his chest at her words as he stroked the back of her hand. “I feel the same way.” Squeezing his hand, Veronica said, “You and I have been through so much together. I don’t know if I’ve ever expressed how much you mean to me.” His heart not only leapt, it flipped, spun and beat four times in


succession. Could the moment he’d been waiting for since college finally be within his reach? Had Veronica bid on him, not to save him, but because her feelings had grown toward him on a more intimate level? Dare to hope, Mark. “You mean a lot to me as well. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you,” he expressed. “I know. That’s how friends are. They help each other out when they’re in need.” Veronica’s voice took on a cheerful note. Friends? “Uh.” Mark was no longer sure where this conversation was headed. “Are you in need of something, Veronica?” In his lower peripheral vision he noticed the high rise and fall of her breast as she took a deep breath. She squeezed his hand again. “Mark, I need your help to have a baby.” Damn-it, didn’t see that one coming. His pulse began to be faster, blood rushed through his veins like a freight train and headed South. Taking a breath of his own, he attempted to calm himself. “Excuse me?” He gave himself a little shake. “I’m not sure if I heard you correctly.” She seized the corner of her lip, showing her nervousness. “A baby, Mark. I want to have a baby.” “How long has this been on your mind?” He grazed her knuckles with his thumb. “Weeks, that turned into months. Ever since my aunts death. She said something to me before she died about not living for my job and finding love and having a family.” “So, how’s the love search going?” He stopped stroking her hand, waiting to hear what she had to say. Removing her hand from his, she chuckled. “Who has time to pound the nightclub pavement looking for some guy to sweep them off their feet? Surely not a gainfully employed woman with a business. Not me.” Tilting his head he looked at her. “So, you don’t want love but you want a family?” Nodding, she smiled. “Not a whole family. Just a child. I never really considered it before my aunt said something, but I guess time waits for no man or woman. I don’t want to look up one


day and realize that while I’ve been waiting for the hotel to take off. My personal life and opportunity for a baby have taken a dive.” “So, where do I come in?” He made a hand gesture as if putting together a puzzle. “How do I fit into all this?” “Easy, Mark.” She shrugged. “I had planned to use some of the money my aunt Melvina left me and find a donor at a fertility clinic, but that was a fruitless venture.” “And…” Mark felt like there was a shoe hanging in the air somewhere and at any moment it was going to drop. He just hoped when it fell he wouldn’t be in pieces. “And nothing. Someone told me that if I wanted a baby maybe I was looking in the wrong place. When I thought about it. You. Our relationship. I realized you would make a perfect father.” Veronica reached her hand across the table and took his again. Mark stared down at their joined hands. One black, one white, a beautiful blend of colors. He mind swam with visions of their baby’s skin color. What would he or she look like? It was almost if his friend had taken a page out of his hearts daily journal and made one of his dreams come true. “So, what do you want us to do? Drive to one of our homes and work on making a baby?” Before he could blink, her hand was gone. “For heaven sakes no, Mark.” Hearing her words, he lifted his head. Veronica’s beautiful features were marred by the abnormally large size of her eyes. He was trying to read whether she was shocked or disgusted at the idea of the two of them being intimate. God, he prayed it wasn’t the latter. “Then how do you purpose we make a baby. Share the same drinking glass?” He knew Veronica had little to almost no experience in the sex department, but she wasn’t a virgin and as smart as she was, she had to know where baby’s came from. Folding her arms across her chest, she stared at him. “The Norfolk Building Families Clinic where I was trying to find a donor. We’ll contact them and set you up an appointment. You give them a healthy sample. Just encase we need to have it repeated and the first time doesn’t take. They can take your sperm and surgically place it in my egg when I’m ovulating.” What in the hell. The proverbial shoe had dropped. Leaning


forward, Mark asked, “Are you trying to tell me that you expect me to give myself a palm and grip job to fill a cup so they can give it to you with some basting syringe?” Veronica’s body took on the same posture, bringing their faces inches apart. “What’s the big deal? Men do it all the time. I’m sure you have.” Mark wasn’t even going to dignify that with an answer, because he’d shock her right out of that sexy dress if he told her that when he did, it was to visions of her. “Not doing it.” Appearing crescent fallen, she pulled away as sadness entered her eyes. “I want a baby, Mark. It’s all I think about.” Please don’t cry. “I want this child more than I wanted my own business.” Her eyes began to fill. Please don’t cry. She swallowed. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re my best friend.” She swallowed again, regaining control before the first tear fell. “I can respect your decision.” She looked off in the distances and spoke softly. “I just never considered you’d tell me no.” He never considered that there would be anything that Veronica would ask him that he would turn her down. His decision didn’t sit will with him either. Settling back against his chair, he pondered her request. This was not ‘can I borrow money or can I use your car or let’s start the business we’ve always dreamed about’. Nope, this was bigger. This was a connection to Veronica for the rest of his life. This was the ultimate sacrifice. The music played softly in the background as Mark gazed at her sitting dejected across from him pushing her food around her plate. Silently the waiter came, noticed the tension between them and removed their plates without asking if they wanted dessert. Can I do this? He questioned himself. Can I assist Veronica in fulfilling her dream while mine our forgotten? Sit beside her through the pregnancy, support her during the delivery and not have her. And on top of that. Not truly have his baby either. No. He couldn’t do it. With Veronica it had to be all or none. “I’ll do it.” Looking up, happiness lit up her eyes. “Oh, Mark. You don’t


know how--” He raised his hand, stopping her before she continued. “If we’re going to do this. It’s going to be done the old fashion way. First comes ring, then comes marriage…then comes Veronica and Mark with a baby carriage.” **** A ring? Marriage? Whoa there big fella. Veronica assessed her best friend as if he’d grown an extra head while she was looking. Getting married was not in her game plan. “Mark, are you crazy? People pop babies out all the time without being married. Being a single parent is almost a requirement in this country,” she argued. He shrugged. “You’re right, Veronica, in America you can have kids in whatever way you see fit. But, that’s not how I’ve planned to father a baby. Call me old fashioned--” “Old fashioned.” He smiled. Mark had a nice smile. It was open and honest and given frequently. It was something about the way his lips curved up in the corners, almost curling. For a moment she considered what it would be like to be kissed by him. She knew the feel of his lips from the pecks he gave to her forehead, but would a kiss be the same? “Veronica.” His voice drew her. Lifting her gaze, she wondered if he knew how she’d been staring at him. “I never want to hurt you or deny the dreams you have in your heart and that pretty head of yours.” He placed his elbows on the table, his intense hazel eyes now browner than green pierced her with a searching stare. Shifting her eyes away from his penetrating gaze, it unsettled her, made her unsure of how she wanted to get what she desired. She desired a child and she refused to give that up, with or without Mark’s help. “Mark. I think you’re making this more complicated then it should be. Why can’t you just give me the baby I want…the way I want it?” “Too, complicated, hmm.” Resting against the back of his chair, he sat silently. Then unexpectedly, he rose.


Is he leaving? Did I offend him? “Where are you going?” Mark held out his hand to her, palm up. “Dance with me.” His request startled her, it wasn’t as they had never danced together, but it was something in the way he said it. Direct. Commanding. As if all the answers they both sought would be found in this one act. “Okay.” She slipped her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. The pianist continued to play he fingers across the keys, pushing out the beginning notes of a ballad, familiar and foreign at the same time. The small floor in front of the fire was practically empty except for one other couple. Speechless, Mark slid one of his arms around her waist, not lightly as he’d done at the fundraiser with all their guests around them, but different. Intimate. One of her hands rested on his shoulder as he cradled her other hand in his hand against his chest. With her free hand on his other shoulder, she rested her chin on top and relaxed. This was Mark, her friend, there was no threat here. They moved to the beat of the music. Over the last month she’d been bogged down with anxiety over her future, she used this time to clear her mind. Feeling at peace she closed her eyes and leaned into Mark. Unexpectedly, her senses sparked to life as she became aware of several things at the same time. The heat coming off Mark’s body surrounding her like a comforting blanket. Especially the feel of his hand pressed against the small of her back, aligning her body with his. She’d never noticed before how his scent was a robust masculine blend that at the same time was gentle and wooing to the senses, Armani Code, spicy and subtle, had been made with him in mind. She’d given it to him for Cristmas. She inhaled deeply, taking it all in. This man, the man she wanted to father a baby with, who thought they could make it the old fashion way. Could we? As if aiding her in deciphering the tune the piano man began to sing.


Chapter Eleven When a Man Love’s a Woman. Mark knew from the first notes what song was being played. As the musician sang, Mark wondered if it was karma, bad luck or poetic justice with the topic they were discussing. Veronica wanted a baby by him. Not necessarily in the way he wanted to give it to her, but with him. For years, he had held back his emotions from Veronica, but as the man sang, building the fervor in the words as he released the passion in each line. Mark found himself unable to resist pulling Veronica tighter in his arms. Feeling the softness of her breast pressed into his chest. In 1966, Percy Sledge had penned this song about all the things a man would do when he loved a woman. All the things he would give up for the love of a woman. Could he do that? Knowing that it was a possibility her feelings for him would never blossom beyond friendship. Yes, his mind said. No, his heart screamed. Resting his lips on her forehead, he knew there was no way he could not be there for her. He loved her. Even if she wasn’t ready to hear it. But, he needed to convince her why it was important for him to be a true father to his baby. And maybe in the end she would learn to love him as well. As the last few notes of the song played, Mark stepped away from her. “Come sweetness, we need to finish this conversation.” Nodding, she moved toward the table ahead of him. They both reclaimed their seats and Mark began, “I need you to understand why I can’t father a child and not be in my child’s life.” “Mark, that will never happen. We’re best friends, we own a company together and I’d never keep you from that child.” Raising his hand, he stilled the flow of her words. Taking a deep breath he began, “Unlike your parent’s and your life, mine was different.” The sexy tilt of Veronica’s head showed he’d grabbed her attention. His past was something he never truly discussed with her. But, if he wanted her to understand his view on children, he


had to be open and honest. “When Curtis and I grew up, it was by a single parent. My father was an abusive son of a bitch and an alcoholic.” Mark’s body began to shake with the rage he felt toward a man he had never known. Lifting his water he chugged half the glass, needing a moment. “Even though my mother was pregnant for the second time by him, the abuse didn’t stop. On the day I was born he beat my mother into labor with me and then ran off before she left the hospital and I’ve never had the pleasure of laying eyes on him.” He was happy that his mother had finally found love. She was married to an Air Force officer and living overseas in Italy. Stretching forward she grabbed his forearm and squeezed. “But you’re not like that, Mark. You’re sweet, kind and gentle. You use your strength to protect people, not hurt them.” He stared at her comforting hand. “I know. But, a part of me still needs to prove that to a child of mine.” When his gaze met hers, he said, “Don’t take that opportunity from me, Veronica, and I’ll gladly give you a baby with everything I have in me.” “Mark, thanks for opening up to me.” She looked down at the linen napkin she was folding and refolding in her hands. “Stephanie and Robert Martinson were a team. I couldn’t get away with much around them.” She smiled and stared off in the distance as if seeing their faces. He saw her eyes cloud over. “Why would you want to deny a child their right to both parents?” “It’s not the same, Mark. My parents had love.” “More than that, they had a commitment, Roni.” Grabbing both her hands, he said, “People have been known to grow in love in different ways and for different reasons.” Raising her hands, he stared at them. They were unadorned except for the sapphire and diamond ring that had arrived from her parents for her fifteenth birthday five months after they had passed away. The ring sat on the ring finger of her right hand. He brushed his thumb over her left finger. Her voice pulled his gaze to her beautiful brown eyes. “I don’t like being the one to throw a wet blanket on this conversation, but you’ve already done the marriage thing, Mark, with someone that you loved deeply. Are you sure you want to


repeat another one?” Veronica was incorrect. The problem with his first marriage was not that he didn’t love Laverne. He cared for her a lot and thought that would be enough and she would be able to fill an empty void. However, it was over two years ago since she’d seen through the sham of their marriage and left him. “Yes, I’m sure. Both of us know exactly why we are doing this. No pretense. We’ll handle anything that comes our way together. You chose me out of all other men to be the father of your baby. Now, just make that same choice and allow me to be your husband as well.” Biting her bottom lip, she paused, then smiled. “Yes, Mark.” His heart stopped. For a moment he was afraid it wouldn’t restart again. It would have been just his luck for finally getting Veronica and die of a heart attack on the same night. Rising he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. **** “Thanks for the date. The dinner was great.” Leaning her back against her front door, Veronica fidget with her keys and stared at Mark. “You’re welcome.” Mark stood two feet away from her. Since they’d left the restaurant, neither of them had spoken much, lost in their own thoughts. Now, as she stood before him at her house door she felt unsure. Normally, she would have opened the door and he would’ve followed her in where they’d continued to laugh and joke the night away until he got up to go home or crashed in her spare bedroom. But things were awkward now. She prayed it wasn’t a sign of things to come. “Well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. We’ll meet and make some plans.” He didn’t step away. “That will be good. Until tomorrow.” Should I kiss him? It was a date. But, not a date. But, he would be her husband. Luckily, Mark made the choice. Stepping up, he lifted her face and allowed his thumb to brush her chin. Their gaze locked moments before he leaned down and kissed her on the corner of


her mouth and then moved to his standard spot her forehead. His scent enveloped her, stirring her senses like a caress making her skin tingle. His lips fluttered against the skin of her forehead as he spoke. “Sleep well, Veronica. Don’t worry we’ll figure it all out. One step at a time.” “Thanks, Mark.” Relaxing a little when he gave her one of his carefree smiles and headed toward his truck. When he pulled out of her driveway, she went inside her house. Removing her shoes, she crossed the room to her couch. This night had not gone at all as she had planned. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the change of events. One thing she did know is that she needed to talk to someone about it. Grabbing her phone off the charger she dialed the number of the only person who wouldn’t beat around the bush and would tell her if she and Mark were about to make a foolish mistake. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” Veronica said, when Karen answered. “I picked up on the second ring, what does that tell you?” “Date no good, huh?” “That’s an understatement. Let’s put it this way, I haven’t had a guy try and finger me on the first date in a movie theater since I was sixteen. A short skirt is not an invitation.” Karen exhaled the annoyance in her voice evident. “What about Jerome in college?” Veronica chimed in. “No, he tried to get me to do other things. And both of them got the same thing…an elbow to the rib and walked out on. Nothing like the word ‘pervert’ yelled loudly in a theater to make a man hide in shame.” Veronica laughed at the mental picture Karen created. It was just what she needed to ease the tension in her shoulders. “I wanted to see that movie too.” Karen sighed. “How was your date with Mark?” Veronica sobered. “Good.” “Oh, God, Veronica,” Karen rushed on, “please tell me you don’t have him locked in the bathroom with a plastic cup and the latest issue of Playboy.” “No, I don’t.” “Phew. So, what did he say?” Karen asked.


Silent, Veronica idly traced the patterns of her dress and considered the best way to phrase her words. “Veronica…you still there. Did he say no?” Jumping right in, she told her friend, “We’re getting married.” “Married! You and Mark! How did this happen?” Karen tripped over her words in her shock. Veronica could understand the shock, she was still numb herself. Not sure what she was feeling about the situation. “Dinner, dancing…a little baby talk and there you have it.” Veronica sat on her couch, her legs bent tucking her feet underneath her hip. She hadn’t gone very far since Mark had dropped her off. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I thought you weren’t looking for a husband.” “I’m not.” Now, Veronica lay prone on the couch staring up at the ceiling. “But, it’s what he wanted. I think he got stuck in the fifties. No ring, no baby.” “Oooh.” Frowning, Veronica asked, “What’s with the long oh?” Karen’s end of the phone went quiet. “Karen?” Veronica sat up. “You think we’re making a mistake don’t you? I should just cut my loses and focus on the hotel for now.” “Is that what you want?” Sliding back down, Veronica slung her arm over her eyes. “No. I want a baby, Karen. That hasn’t changed. Mark and I have been friends for years, but can we raise a baby on friendship love? What if in a year he falls for someone else, but then he’s stuck with me and a baby.” “First off, you’re too smart to ramble. So stop.” Karen ordered. “Second, people have married and been happy for years on less. If you both want this baby and are committed to raising it right. I say why the hell not?” “Yeah, that’s what Mark said.” “He was always a smart man.” Karen paused. “Look on the bright side, Mark is a sexy man. Making a baby with him will be lots of fun.” Veronica groaned, rolling to the side sandwiching the phone between her cheek and the couch. “I don’t want to think about that


now.” “You better start thinking about it a lot. Soon, you will have the pleasure of seeing him naked. Take pictures. I wonder if he has a b--” “No! And no!” She yelled cutting her friend off. Karen was getting warmed up. If she didn’t stop her friend things would head downhill fast. “Good night, Karen. I’ll talk to you later on this week.” “Just when the conversation was getting good.” Karen laughed. “By the way, I do expect to be the maid of honor.” “Only if you meet us at the courthouse.” “Oh, that’s real cold.” Karen responded as they said their good-byes and hung up. **** “Let me get this straight. You’re getting married to Veronica Martinson in a few weeks?” his brother Curtis who had been quiet on the phone the entire conversation as Mark had told him about the wedding in a few weeks, inquired. Mark who’d gotten home from dinner with Veronica fifteen minutes ago sat in front of his muted television in sweats and spoke to his brother. “Yea, I am.” He couldn’t help the smile lifting his mouth. No matter what the circumstance surrounding the decision he was marrying his dream. “What happened, you all get drunk one night and find yourself naked in each others arms. She discovers she was pregnant and now you’re going to do the right thing?” “Close, but no cigar.” “Then fill me in on the damn details because I can’t get my head around how you finally convinced Veronica, whom you’ve loved forever I might add, to marry you.” Mark picked up the remote and flipped to a baseball game, even though he didn’t elevate the sound. “Well, you already know about Veronica winning my bid at the auction?” “Yea. You said she saved you, because she knew how much you really didn’t want to do it.” “That’s what I thought.” He rose and headed into the kitchen, all of a sudden he felt parched. “But, she had another agenda.”


“That was?” Curtis urged. Mark poured himself a glass of ice tea. “You remember I told you that Veronica hadn’t been the same since her aunt’s death?” He waited a beat for his brother to confirm. “Last week I found out the reason for that. Her aunt had said some things to Veronica before she passed away about her not living for her job and missing out on family. Well Roni took that to heart and over the last few months has been trying to get pregnant through a local clinic.” “What!” Curtis burst out and Mark heard Kaley shush him, telling him the baby was asleep. “What?” his brother reiterated his shock, whispering this time. Mark claimed a seat on one of his kitchen bar stools. “Well, lucky me she couldn’t find the right donor, until recently.” “Let me guess, you.” “That’s right. In the flesh. Not that she didn’t try and get me to drop a sample in a cup.” Mark laughed as his brother made a sound on the phone as if a chill of disgust ran down his back. “My sentiments exactly.” “So, who proposed marriage?” Curtis asked. “I did. And eventually she agreed. It was a hard fight though. You know Veronica doesn’t like to give up control of any situation.” His brother was quiet for a moment. “So, now your about to marry the woman you’ve loved for years. Going from being her best friend to being her husband. Her lover.” Curtis paused again. “That’s quiet a jump.” Running his hands through his hair, Mark said, “When you say it like that it seems insurmountable.” “It might be. Do you think you can do it? It may only take a male and a female to make a baby for you. However, to make it enjoyable a modicum of physical attraction, on both parts, is warranted. The last thing you want is a wife willing to sleep with you and hating every minute of it.” That was something that weighed heavy on Mark’s mind. He knew how he felt about Veronica, both physically and emotional, but could she feel the same? Hell, he’d never even kissed her. Not really. Not like a man kisses a woman. Would she even be


responsive? It would kill him if after all this time of wanting her, he got her and nothing. No spark for her. Damn-it. “I can only hope.” He heard his brother sigh. “I’m sure everything will work itself out. So, when is the wedding?” “I’m going to attempt to arrange it for when you’re going to be in town. If you could extend your stay through Sunday that would be great, so you can stand up with me.” “Hmm.” Curtis paused as if considering his request. “Be the best man to my brother as he marries the woman he loves? I’d be honored.” “Thanks.” When he’d married Laverne they had gone to a JP’s house and tied the knot in a gazebo out back. No family, no friends. She’d wanted him to prove his love for her through marriage and he wanted to believe that his heart wouldn’t always ache for another. But it had. And the marriage had ended almost as quickly as it began. He would move mountains to make sure it didn’t happen with Veronica. “I’ll talk to you when you get in town and let you know the details.” “I’ll see you soon. If I didn’t say it yet, congratulations on the wedding. For whatever reason it’s happening, I know what it means to you.” And his brother was the only one who did. **** “Dessert anyone?” Mark walked into the executive suite holding a bag with Lougi Savio’s imprinted on the side in bold script. Placing the last few folders from the file cabinet in the box on the floor, Veronica crossed the room with a smile. “Oh, Mark, you are an angel.” They moved to the dinning room table, as Mark pulled out the two carryout boxes. “You never got to try Julie’s dessert at the restaurant so I picked up some.” She truly was a dessert lover. Excitement bubbled up inside of her as she sat and popped open the Styrofoam lid, seeing the golden sauce pooling on the sides. Tonight they had plans to work out the wedding details and house arrangement. Knowing Mark as


long as she did, she knew this was his way of starting them out on the right foot considering the sensitive conversation. “Almond cheesecake topped with caramel and bananas sautéed in rum.” He took the seat at the head, beside her and passed her a fork. Veronica closed her eyes and gave a playful moan. “I love it when you talk food.” Mark chuckled. Opening her eyes, she dove in, lifting a mound on her fork to her mouth. “Oh, my God, that’s delectable, luscious, wonderful and delicious.” “Roni, you are the only person I know who becomes a walking thesaurus when it comes to food.” He ate his pie and winked at her. She smiled. “I can’t help it. I’m too grateful that I’m a human who can eat so many different foods.” “You’re a Chef’s dream.” The low timbre of his voice made her look up. When she glanced at him, the look in his eyes didn’t help, his pupils were constricted and the green of his eyes more prominent. Something sparked inside of her. Something foreign and unfamiliar. Something she wasn’t ready to address, but it made her spine tingle and her toes curl in her heels. Twenty-four hours. It had been only twenty-four hours since they had decided to get married and have a baby and things were beginning to change. That unsettled her. “Well, I guess it’s time we talked about the iceberg in the middle of the ocean.” Taking another bite, she resealed the lid, wanting to save the rest for later. “Iceberg?” He raised an eyebrow at her analogy. “We’re not headed towards destruction.” “I know, but I started with such a small thing, a baby and found myself running into a huge issue, marriage.” “That we will deal with together.” She nodded, not knowing how else to respond. She trusted Mark and that helped ease some of her tension. “So, when do you think we should get married?” He shrugged. “Depends when you want to start working on a baby.” A baby with Mark. She was unable to stop her eyes from


gazing at the man who would soon become her husband. Her eyes became fixated on his hands. She’d always like men’s hands that were wide, strong with blunt nails. In the 1800’s it was said that you could tell a man’s occupation, his strength by his hands. Mark had nice hands that diced tomatoes or kneaded dough. The thought caused heat to coil in her abdomen and the hairs on her arms to rise. “Soon. It’s already been months. I can call the Justice of the Peace tomorrow and get the details.” “I was thinking a small church wedding, maybe in Alexandria. Unless you have some objections.” Pulling a tablet from the middle of the table closer to him. “A church makes it seem so official.” Frowning, Mark said, “Were getting married, Roni. You can’t make it more official than that.” It was her turn to frown. “Can I get ‘thou shalt not call your wife Roni’ added to the vows.” His barking laughter filled the room. “No. It’d be too easy for me to break that.” She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Fine. A very small church wedding in Alexandria.” “Only family and close friends.” He jotted notes on the tablet. “Where do you want it?” “Wow, you’re jumping right into this.” It went against her nature to have someone else take control. This situation had already thrown her off balance. She didn’t know how much more she would be able to take. “No need to waste time. I know management of the hotel keeps you pretty busy with all the repairs.” “That’s true, but helping with a small wedding will not impact my day that much. So, why don’t I talk to my college pastor and his wife? You can handle everything after the wedding, mainly choosing a good restaurant that can seat maybe fifteen to twenty people.” “Not a problem. Anything else?” Rising she walked over to her desk and picked up her planner. “Next week, Gabriel will be gone for a few days, but after he returns that Friday or Saturday we can drive up, take care of this and be back.” Mark stood and crossed the room, his list in hand he removed


from the tablet. “Perfect, Curtis will be here than. I’ll call my brother and let him know. What do you want to do about the hotel staff?” Shoot, she hadn’t thought about them and how this would impact them at work. She wondered what was wrong with her. Being a control freak, made her detail oriented by nature, but once again she was off her game. “Well, we can’t hide it, so we’ll announce it when we get back.” “It would be my suggestion that we treat it in a romantic sort of way.”


Chapter Twelve Tilting her head to the side she looked at him. “You mean like, we realized over our date how much we loved each other and couldn’t think of ever being apart so we ran off and got married.” She could hear the sarcastic echo in her own voice. “That’s precisely what I am saying. That story sounds better than, ‘we decided to go half on a baby’.” Smiling, she shook her head. “I guess you’re right. So, as far as the staff knows we’re two love birds. But, I don’t plan to lie to our friends.” “Neither do I. Not to mention my brother knows me too well. He wouldn’t believe a lie.” Seating down on the desk, she exhaled with relief. “I guess that’s settled. I need to head home I’m beginning to feel the day.” Mark glanced around the office. “You have been a busy bee. In a few days you will be back in your office. Are you going to miss this place?” “Definitely. The desk is too small, but all the amenities can’t be beat.” Gathering her purse, she moved toward the door, Mark leading the way. He stopped at the door with his hand on the handle and glanced back at her. “Veronica, there’s been something on my mind all night. Worrying me.” “What’s that?” She would have thought they covered any concerns they both had. “The kiss.” “What kiss?” Had she missed something? “The one we are to have on our wedding day.” “Ohh…” She didn’t know what else to say. She’d purposely attempted to put all those things, kissing, hugging, sex away. Decided it was best to deal with them later. Much later. “We’ve never kissed.” He spoke as if they were talking about going to the movies or playing miniature golf. Immediately her gaze dropped to his lips, then returned to his eyes. “No, but I’m sure we’ll be fine.” She cleared her throat, suddenly her mouth felt dry. “It’s like riding bike.”


With his back against the door, Mark said, “Do you really want our first kiss to be in front of twenty of our closest friends and family, who are staring at us?” She swallowed. “I didn’t think about that.” She was sure thinking about it now. The prospect of kissing Mark was making her feel shaky inside. Anticipation? Still resting against the door, he held his hand out to her. “You know what they say ‘practice makes perfect’.” “Is that right?” Placing her hand in his, she allowed him to tug her forward. “How do you like to be kissed?” She had no answer for that. Having dated off and on since college, the kisses that she had received had barely been memorable. Placing his arms on her waist, he pulled her closer. He was still for a moment, not moving as if allowing her body a chance to get use to the feel of his. They had touched before over the years, many times hugging or finding themselves curled up on the couch while watching a good movie. However, this was different, felt different. She’d never paid attention before to the firmness of Mark’s body. Had his chest always been so broad? “Some women like a gentle kiss, do you?” Mark leaned forward, placed light kisses from below her ear until he reached her chin. Her head rolled back. Her skin sparked in his path like being touched by fireflies. A whisper apart, she stared into those hazel eyes of his and she was lost in the moment. Slipping his hand up her torso, along the side of her breast making her nipples tighten. He continued around her neck and palmed base below her bun. “Maybe you like a man that matches you in control.” No control, her mind screamed, but the words never made it past her lips before Mark captured her mouth in a kiss. His fingers flexed and held her in place as he dragged his tongue along the bottom of her lip. The unexpected heat as if struck by a bolt of lightening caused her to gasp. Seizing the opportunity, Mark entered her mouth stroking her tongue with his.


The kiss was powerful and pulled every thought from her mind but him. She had little room to maneuver around as he held her firmly, she found herself caught between his hand and a delicious place…his mouth. Not willing or wanting to resist, she pressed herself against him as he swept around her mouth, coaxed her tongue into his mouth and suckled. Each draw of his lips around her tongue made her nipples feel prickly and tight. Unable to stop herself, she couldn’t help but rub her breast against him. Someone moaned and someone groaned, she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to whimper when Mark pulled back ending the kiss. Releasing his hold, he moved her away from him. She found herself gripping his forearms to steady herself, her knees felt weak. “Umm…well…” she mumbled, tried to get her mind to put together words and praying to make an intelligent sentence. His eyes dragged up her body and ended at her mouth. He stared at her lips for so long, she thought he was going to kiss her again, then he spoke, he voice heavy and raspy, “Good night, Veronica.” “Good night, Mark.” He opened the door, glanced over his shoulder one more time, than left. Mark’s kissing wasn’t only something she’d remember, but earth shattering as well. **** Mark found himself on the other side of the suite door and aroused as hell. Damn, every nerve in his body screamed for him to walk back in the room and kiss her again. No, kissing would only be the beginning. His mind returned to the issue his brother had raised about attraction on both sides. Replaying the kiss he’d just shared with Veronica, he smiled. There’d definitely been attraction on both parts. He’d felt the distinct points of her nipples through her blouse when they’d kissed and they were more than evident when he took one final look before he walked out the suite. Speaking lowly to his brother who wasn’t there, he whispered,


“Take my word that no matter how or why Veronica and I arrived at this decision there’s definitely physical attraction. ‘On both parts’.” Taking a deep breath he forced air into his lungs and pushed away from the door. Their relationship was moving in a direction that a few weeks ago he never would have thought was possible. Something he had dreamed about and fantasized over for years. Even though he was ready for more, he knew Veronica; this situation was taking her by storm. He had to give her time. Besides, he wanted to do this right. Like he told her, and if he went back in the room, there would be no stopping him until he was nestle between her thighs. If nothing else the years had shown him that he was a patient man. He could wait. Yea, right. His body told him as he strolled down the hall in the opposite direction of the way he desired to go and warring with himself every step. **** Walking back into the room, he saw her standing there. As if she hadn’t moved since he left her after the kiss. However, he couldn’t stay away. He couldn’t deny himself the taste and feel of her skin. She was his, his body told him and he needed to claim her. To push her beyond her tight control and make her feel. Stepping deeper into the room, he closed the door behind him, locking it. Sealing the two of them in and every intrusion out, this time there would be no stopping. Pulling her into his arms, he heard the catch in her voice. She was aroused. “Mark, you’ve come back.” Her husky breathy words stoked the embers of desire that were already seconds away from starting a blaze inside of him. “I couldn’t go.” Searching the depths of her brown eyes, he asked, “Did you want me to stay away?” Subtly her gaze lowered to his mouth, her eyes darkening as if she were replaying the kiss. They met his again. “No.” It was the answer he wanted to hear. Wasting no more time, he fused his mouth to hers. Veronica


gave into the kiss. Once again she buried her hands in his hair and held him to her. Groaning into her mouth, he swept his tongue inside the hot recess. Losing himself in the kiss, he felt his way blindly through each pin holding her hair. Silently they hit the carpeted floor. Leaning back, he watched the tumble of her locs around her face. “You’re beautiful.” The sexy shy smile playing on her lips drew him to her lips again. This time as the kiss deepened he lowered his hands to her backside and palmed the two delectable globes that always taunted him. Slipping his hand around the curves he squeezed and ground his hard shaft into her. He was aroused. Fully aroused and he was done hiding his attraction to her. When she moaned her approval, all his control unraveled. Turning her, Veronica’s back was now pressed against the door. He used the solid structure to keep her in the perfect position. Unbuttoning her blouse, he broke off the kiss and feasted his eyes on a luscious sight that was only his to see in his fantasies. The pale green cups of her bra holding her breast high and proud made him think of mint chocolate chip, his favorite ice cream. He unsnapped her front clasp and admired the bounce of her breast as they were released from the materials hold. Bowing his head, he ran his tongue along her skin. She tasted as delicious as she looked. One after the other, he suckled each dark nipple into his mouth. Her cries, echoed around the makeshift office. Clutching his hair, she arched her back and availed her body to him. Not caring if anyone heard her beyond the room. Veronica was finally his and he wanted the world to know it. Dropping his hands, he gripped the hem of her skirt, without preamble he dragged it up to her waist. Her startled moan encouraged him more. Releasing her erect peak, he yanked her panties down her legs. Walking his hands back up her calves passed her knees until he arrived at her thighs and lifted her high. He sandwiched her between him and the door. Taking a moment to unzip his pants, his eyes held hers as he stroked her wetness with the tip of his manhood. Meeting her mouth, he kissed her deep and passionately as he


buried his hard member to the hilt in her tight warmth. Swallowing her whimpers of enjoyment, he pulled out and thrust again inside her. Trailing kisses down the side of her neck then buried his face in the bend of her shoulder inhaling her scent. She urged him on as she bucked her hips against him. Being inside Veronica made him feel strong, powerful, dominant like a lion mating with his lioness, she brought out the animal in him. Removing her hands from his hair, he raised them above her head and locked his hand around her wrist. The growl like sound rumbled along her sweet skin. “Yes,” she whispered. Hearing her cries, he pulled back and stared into her face. Seeing eyes filled with passion and surrender, he found himself drowning in the sea of ecstasy as Veronica’s tight walls pumped his hard length. Pleasure rocked him to his soul as the quaking in his body startled him awake. His eyes volleyed from left to right in the darkness surrounding him, looking for Veronica, she was no where to be found. It had all been a dream. A sweet delicious erotic fantasy of his own making. He sighed in frustration. Instead a groan slipped passed his lips alerting him to the fact that it was his hand, the vice grip of his own fist that was ideally pumping him toward rapture’s horizon as if he were a teenager caught up in the throes of his first sexual fantasy. Releasing himself, he struggled to take in a calming breath. Running his hands through his hair, he stared up at the dark ceiling. Still feeling on edge, he flung the blankets off his body he stumbled toward the bathroom, his knees weak still fighting off desire clutches. Flicking on the light, he gave himself no mercy. He turned the shower on and stepped inside. Burying his face under the icy stream he attempted to clear his mind of the dream. Lord, if this was how his body responded when it had already been almost two weeks since that one kiss with Veronica what would happen when making love to her was a reality. This time tomorrow he would have his answer. He admitted to himself that he was nervous.


**** Veronica relaxed deeper into her queen size pillow-top mattress bed. So many thoughts and questions rolled through her mind. The what if’s were plaguing her non-stop. An hour ago she’d got into bed and hadn’t been able to shut her mind off and go to sleep. Over the last two weeks, she’d made the simple plans for their wedding and did her best to avoid Mark. After the kiss they shared, and her unexpected arousal to him, she didn’t really trust herself. When they met for meetings with Gabriel, she found herself staring at his lips, remembering the feel of them on hers and wanting it again. She refused to become some simpleton, ogling him every time he was with in ten feet of her or daydream about him. Oh, no, that was not going to be her. This marriage was happening for one reason and one reason alone -- a means to an end. A baby was what she wanted, not love. And now she needed answers to her questions. Reaching over, she picked up her phone and dialed Mark’s number. Even though she had gone to bed over an hour ago, she was sure at eleven thirty at night, Mark would still be up. He was a night owl. **** Feeling more calm and relaxed, he turned off the water and got out. Drying his body off, he heard his cell phone ringing. Not sure how long it had been going off. He hurried to it, not wanting it to awaken his brother who was asleep on his couch, and answered it. **** “What’s wrong, Roni.” The rich timbre of his voice pulled at her and made her think of a lover’s whispers in her ear. Mark whispering in her ear. “I should ask you the same thing. You took so long to answer the phone. Were you asleep?” There was a pause, then he said, “No, Roni. You need


something.” She sighed. Yea, her body called out. She needed something. However, more importantly, she needed to stay focused. Directing her attention away from the sultry sound of Mark’s voice onto something she could handle, she said, “You not calling me, Roni.” He laughed. “My bad. Is that what you called me for?” Oh, my, his voice dropped even lower. The blanket lying across her body started to make her feel hot and constrained. Tossing them off, she allowed the cool air from the AC to caress her skin. “No,” she bit out, more forcefully then she intended, but they both had to remember this was business. “Alright, what’s up?” His tone didn’t change. “We need to iron some things out.” Rolling to her side, she reached for the tablet on the night stand. “Okay, what’s on your list?” She paused. Mark knew her so well. He also probably knew that the next morning after their agreement, she’d sat in her office weighing the pros and cons of the relationship. The only reason she hadn’t called this marriage off was because the pros won out each time she calculated it. Lifting the tablet, she flipped to the page with her list. Turning on the lamp, she began to read. “One, where will we live?” “Your house. It’s more of a family home than my apartment.” Mark interjected calmly as if he’d already thought about it. She jotted down his answer. “Two. Who will name the child?” “I think we make one of your lists and decide together. We do have nine months once you’re pregnant.” Continuing, she asked, “Three. Do you want a boy or girl?” “I hadn’t thought about it much. Whatever God gives us I’ll be happy.” Veronica sat up against the headboard. “If we split, who gets custody?” “This is a commitment, sweetness. I’m not planning on there being a separation. If there is we’ll discuss it then,” he declared. Veronica fidgeted with the edge of her paper. Nervous about the next question. “Hey, sweetness, you still there or did you fall asleep?” “Still here,” she mumbled, staring at the words on the paper.


“How often will we have to have sex?” For the first time with all of her rapid fire questions, Mark didn’t have a smooth quick answer. “As often as we need to until you’re pregnant.” Glancing around her bedroom her mind conjured up a picture of her and Mark in her bed. “And then?” “Then what?” “After I’m pregnant?” He chuckled. “This isn’t the stone ages. People can still have sex when a woman is pregnant.” “But, there will be no need.” She rushed on. “Since this isn’t a real marriage…you know out of love and all. I would understand if you decided to--.” Her words broke off. “Go elsewhere, if you’re discreet.” She tried to visualize Mark kissing another woman the way he’d kissed her and her skin itched and her stomach rolled, making her uncomfortable. “I will never step outside of our marriage, Veronica.” His voice rose and became gritty with agitation. “End of discussion.” “Okay.” “Anything else?” He was calm once again. “No. That’s it for now.” “Then get some sleep. I don’t want you acting like grumpy dwarf tomorrow.” She smiled. “Good night, Mark.” “Good night, beautiful.” Turning off the light, she snuggled back under her blanket, her mind more at peace than it had been previously. **** “Here comes the groom…” Curtis’ voice rang out as Mark walked into the kitchen. Groggy from lack of sleep, he eyed his brother, who stood at the stove with spatula in hand and a lot of delicious smells coming from sizzling pans. “You’re entirely to chipper in the morning.” “Hey, when you have small children running around at butt crack of dawn demanding food, you learn to adapt.” Curtis added in more items to the pan than turned back to him. “You’re cooking?” Mark pulled coffee beans out of the freezer


and placed a cupful into the grinder. “You may be the Chef of the family, but I was raised by your mom too. I still remember my way around the kitchen. Besides, I’m the one who taught you how to flip an omelet.” Showing of his skills, Curtis raised the pan off the eye and smoothly flipped the stuffed egg creation with one handed ease. “Not bad.” Mark gave his brother a half smile. “I’d have been more impressed if you’d started the coffee.” Setting up the French press he waited, with a mug in hand. Chuckling, he brother said, “Sorry, I’m an OJ man so I didn’t even think about it.” “Another curse of fatherhood, I assume?” “All in how you look at it.” Curtis made both their plates, loading them with folded eggs, bacon and seasoned potatoes and carried them to the breakfast bar. Mark poured his coffee, adding cream and sugar then moved to his plate. “Thanks.” Curtis nodded. “You ready to do this?” He didn’t have to ask his brother what he was talking about. Over the last few days while he’d been shopping for a gift for Veronica and their wedding night, his marriage to her was a frequent conversation. “Yea, I’m ready.” Pausing, he took a bite of his food. “I’m scared too.” His fork clattered against the plate when he laid it down. “I mean, what if nothing goes right. If we can’t even complete the act tonight. There’s no doubt in my mind that she feels something when we kiss but--” With a bracing hand on his shoulder, Curtis spoke calm, “Slow down, Mark. Everything is going to be okay. The only thing you have to do is show her how much you love her. Even if you can’t tell her. The rest will come.” Taking a deep breath, Mark nodded. Then finished a few more bites of food, downed his coffee. “I’m going to hit the shower first if you don’t mind.” Still eating, Curtis said, “Nope. I showered while you were still sleeping so it’s all yours.” “Great.” Mark scraped his plate then placed it in the sink and went to his room. Show her you love her, he thought. I can handle that.


Chapter Thirteen Mark’s brother dropped him off at the church for his meeting. Curtis was headed to the mall in Alexandria’s town center to pick up a few gifts for his kids and wife then coming back. They’d made great time through Richmond and up I95 and still had a few hours before the wedding was supposed to begin. Starting up the stairs to the front door of the church, Mark stopped when he heard, “Mark Latten, right?” Turning he eyed a black man with a navy blue baseball cap, tshirt and faded jeans pulling a lawnmower around the corner. At first he didn’t recognize the man, but as he moved closer to him, the open smile was familiar. “Yes, sir.” Approaching the man, Mark held out his hand. “Pastor Anthony McKinley?” Removing his work gloves, the brown skin man said, “Pastor Anthony is what the college crowd calls me.” Their handshake was firm and quick. “Do you mind if we talk outside? I’d like to get the grass cut before the ceremony.” It was early and the Virginia sun hadn’t begun to turn up its heat on the day yet. It was perfect yard work weather. “I must say, I’m surprised to see the pastor of the church cutting the grass.” “At Trinity, everyone works to keep the place up.” “I can respect that.” Mark didn’t want to waste this man’s time so he began. “I asked to meet with you, Pastor Anthony, because Veronica admires you and your wife a lot.” “Mmhmm.” Pastor Anthony unlatched the bag off the lawnmower to empty it. Seeing the box of garbage bags, Mark grabbed one and returned to help empty the large satchel. “Well, I need to tell you that I’m in love with her,” he said as he tied the now full garbage bag. Nodding, the pastor said, “That’s good to know since you’ll be marrying her in a few hours.” “Yea. However, it’s not the reason we’re getting married.” Taking the bag from Mark he tossed it to the side, out of the


way. “Umm. Then what is the reason? Is she pregnant?” Returning he stood before Mark with his arms crossed over his chest. For a man of medium height, he struck an imposing stance. Mark didn’t know why, but suddenly he became nervous as if standing before the father of the bride and one wrong word would have him back to square one with Veronica. “No, sir, she’s not.” He took a deep breath. “But it’s the plan. The sole reason we’re marrying.” “Let me guess, Veronica wants the baby?” “Yes.” He wasn’t about to tell this man how far she had been willing to go to get one. Mark was happy with the current situation. “How’d you know?” Shrugging, Pastor Anthony said, “While you all were in school here, Veronica spent a lot of her time volunteering in the children’s department. Teaching Sunday school, working in the nursery and going with them on Saturday outings. She even hung out with us at our house a lot. She liked the feeling of family. And knowing her background, it’s understandable.” Mark was stunned to hear all the things Veronica had been involved in. Now her desperation for a child made a lot more sense to him. However, he wasn’t sure if Veronica had put two and two together. “Anyway, I just wanted you to be clear on the service you were performing today. We’re committed to this marriage and any children that are part of it.” Reconnecting the bag, Pastor Anthony kneeled beside the lawn equipment. “Good. You told me that you love her. Can I assume her feelings are not the same?” “If you did, you would be right on the money.” Glancing across the yard, Mark said, “To Veronica I’m her best friend who’s doing her a favor.” Rising, Pastor Anthony quoted, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails… And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” Mark listened to the wise man, taking in all knowledge he was


attempting to impart. “That’s from Corinthians.” Placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder, Pastor Anthony finished by saying, “Chin up, Mark, sometimes a person doesn’t realize when they’re already operating in their blessing. You two are grown and have made a choice of comment. Everything will work it’s self out.” Nodding, Mark wished he had a fraction of the faith and confidence that this man had about his marriage to Veronica. In an hour, he and Pastor Anthony had finished with the yard and his brother returned. After brief introductions, they headed inside. Equally as sweaty, Pastor Anthony showed Mark the back bathroom he could use that had a shower stall in it. Curtis retrieved his suit from the car and Mark began to prepare for his wedding. **** “Girl, you look beautiful.” Karen stood in front of Veronica in one of the churches Sunday school rooms, where Veronica was getting dressed for her wedding. “I’m almost mad you found this before I did. In twenty years when I get married I would’ve love to have this bridal pants outfit.” Laughing at her friend, Veronica commented, “Twenty years, Karen?” “Girl, too many men and not enough days in a year. I’m trying to sew all my oats.” Karen winked. “Even the ones that have broken and turned to dust at the bottom of the box.” Veronica shook her head. “You are a mess.” “I know. That is why you love me.” They embraced. “Hello, are you coming out, or do you plan to get married in the children’s church class room?” Tiffany asked as she came into the room, carrying her four week old baby boy and leading the pack with all their girl friends. “Tiffany!” Veronica rushed over to see the baby. “Can I hold him?” “Of course.” Tiffany handed him to her. “Watch out so he doesn’t spit up on that pearl and diamond bodice.” Karen warned.


“I wouldn’t care.” Veronica stared at the little brown bundle in her arms. Kevin Edward Lewis was sleeping peacefully held tight inside the blanket with nothing but his face and thick curly black hair revealed. Veronica couldn’t wait until the moment she would be holding her own child. “He’s a handsome little guy, Tiffany.” “And so is that outfit. It is fierce with that sheer train flowing along the back of those white slacks to the floor.” Josephine made circles around her, making admiring comments. Charmagne stood next to her admiring the baby, making cooing sounds. Veronica knew that Charmagne and Charles had put off having kids until after she completed her doctorate program for business administration. “He’s so sweet and quiet,” Sonya, who had barely gotten in a few hours ago from her trip to Africa, commented beside Veronica’s other shoulder. “You say that now. But, at two in the morning, remind me to call you when he’s screaming in hunger.” Tiffany took the baby back, saying, “This isn’t a baby shower. It’s a wedding that is supposed to start in one minute.” “I knew Tiffany couldn’t hold off but so long.” Charmagne smiled “Not when theirs an event to manage,” Sonya chimed in. “Hell, if--” Karen began. Charmagne cut her off. “You can’t say hell in church.” Putting her hands on her hips, Karen stared at Charmagne. “Of course I can. It’s in the Bible several times.” “Not in the context you were using it.” Charmagne folded her arms under her chest and eyed Karen back. “As I was saying, if Veronica would have let Tiffany plan this affair, Tiffany would’ve been on the delivery table making calls and reservations.” The group of girl friends nodded and laughed. “That’s the truth.” Sonya called out. “I am not that bad!” Tiffany pouted. Then giggled. “Yes, you are.” Josephine said, taking Tiffany’s shoulder steering her out the door. Veronica shook her head as her friends filed out of the room. Karen the last one out winked at her then closed the door. Now alone in the small room, Veronica took a few deep


breaths. Headed toward the door, then stopped and took a few more breaths then sat on a bench by the door. That’s how First Lady Paula McKinley found her. “Are you okay?” Veronica attempted a smile, but failed. She may try to put on a confident face with her friends, but she’d never been able to pull the wool over Ms. Paula’s eyes. The beautiful petite brown skinned woman was spiritually wise and wasn’t fooled easily. “Ms. Paula, can you tell me I’m doing the right thing?” Veronica stared into the regal soft cocoa features of the woman standing before her in a soft blue pants suit. The suit reminded Veronica of something the mother of the bride would wear. She thought it was great considering that her mother and aunt couldn’t be there, this woman was a perfect stand in. “Why would you think you were doing something wrong?” Ms. Paula tilted her head, giving her a curious look. Veronica groaned. “I don’t know. Because I shouldn’t have Pastor presiding over a ceremony that isn’t built on the all consuming love.” “Wow, all consuming!” Ms. Paula sat beside her. “I’m not sure what that would look like even if I saw it at the altar. Are you?” Veronica shook her head. “No, but, I’m sure it’s different than what Mark and I have.” “And that is…?” “Friendship. That’s all. Nothing more…nothing less.” Smiling, Ms. Paula commented, “Why is it that eighties song by Sade comes to mind about no love being ordinary.” “I don’t think she was talking about this.” She glanced over to the board that held a colorful array of children finger paints. “Do you know why Mark and I are getting married?” “Do you want to tell me?” Paula inquired. Nodding she turned back to her. “I want a baby, Ms. Paula, and my impatience got the best of me. Now I’m about to trap my best friend in a marriage to get what I want.” “Well, I saw Mark leave Pastor’s office with him. He didn’t look forced.” “That’s because he’s a good man.” “But, that doesn’t make him a gullible man.”


“Maybe we should have just went to the JP and called it done. Pastor’s supposed to be blessing a marriage built on truth and love.” “Veronica, I think you know Pastor and I well enough to know that we don’t judge. It’s not our place.” Taking hold of Veronica’s shoulders, she continued, “People come to this church and stand in front of the altar promising God and all who listen to love, honor and obey. If you two are going into this with honesty and commitment, who am I to say no.” Veronica grinned. “You’re right.” “The only thing I ask is keep your vows. You maybe going into this for a baby, but don’t forget you have a husband now to. Don’t neglect that part of your life. A house divide against it’s self can not stand.” Ms. Paula embraced her. “I understand.” “Good, now let’s get out of here before Mark thinks you’ve jilted him at the altar.” Reaching down, Paula picked up the small white rose bouquet from the table by the door and handed it to her. Taking the flowers, Veronica grinned. “Thank you, for listening as always.” “Anytime.” **** Mark had to bite his tongue to keep himself from groaning as he stood beside Pastor Anthony McKinley. Veronica was beautiful and sexy in her torso hugging top and pants. In the last two days since he’d seen her, she’d twisted her locs in array of curls around her face and shoulders. The natural uninhibited display made him want to sink his hands deep into it. Veronica walked toward him until she stood beside him at the altar. No, music. No wedding march. Just sexy Veronica strolling to him. Today she would become his wife. When she was beside him, Pastor McKinley began the short ceremony. He spoke of love, trust, commitment and listening to ones heart. The minister told him to love Veronica as Christ loved the church and gave himself for it. Then he looked at Veronica and said for her to obey her husband in the Lord. Mark bit down on the inside of his lip to keep his bearing.


Knowing Veronica the way he did, there was no way she’d give over the guiding of their relationship to anyone. For now he was more than happy to lead along with her. For now. They exchanged rings and vows. When the pastor pronounced them husband and wife, he pulled Veronica to him without giving her time to keep the distance between them. The short kiss wasn’t as passionate as the one he’d given her at the hotel, but he made sure it was just as intense. The room erupted in applause around them. Mark leaned back and focused on Veronica’s lovely face. Her eyes held a dreamy gaze. Stepping back, he smiled to himself. Taking her hand, he kissed it then let her go. “Pastor Anthony, thank you very much for the encouraging words and performing the ceremony.” Mark shook the man’s hand. “You’re welcome. There isn’t much my wife and I would not do for those six women.” Soon, Mark and Veronica found themselves swallowed up by their friends and his brother, as everyone wished them well. Everyone headed out the door, when Ms. Paula stopped them and took a picture of him and Veronica embracing by the altar. When that was done, they headed to the Crystal City where he had reserved Athena Pallas a Greek restaurant where he had reserved fifteen seats. The first time he and Veronica had gone somewhere without her friends, had been to that restaurant, it was her twenty-first birthday. She’d loved it and he’d realized then how much he loved her. “Well, we did it. How are you feeling?” Mark asked her once they had pulled away from the church. She had been so quiet after the wedding that he was beginning to get nervous. Did she believe she’d made a mistake already? Looking up from the bouquet in her hand that somehow had captured her attention, Veronica gave him a small smile. “Ms. Veronica Latten, just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Who would’ve ever thought?” Mark didn’t answer her question, instead he said, “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, before, but you look beautiful. I love the pants and top…” Taking a deep breath, he made sure to keep his gaze directed toward the Northern, Virginia traffic. Not the delectable swells of her breast visible above her sparking bodice. They had


only been married twenty minutes and all he could think about was when he would be able to remove it from her body. He inhaled again, deeper. “I’m glad you like it. I found it at a bridal outlet in Williamsburg. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wear a dress or not.” Glancing over at her briefly, he said, “You made the right choice.” An appreciative smile graced her face. He returned it, before merging onto the off ramp toward their exit. Things are starting off nicely. **** When they pulled up to Athena Pallas, Veronica turned to Mark and smiled. “I can’t believe it. I haven’t been to this place in years. Not since you brought me here for my birthday.” “Then you’re a little overdue.” Getting out the car, he came around and assisted her out. Taking her hand, he led her to the restaurant. “I can’t wait. I love this place.” “What you can’t wait for is to sink your teeth in some galaktoboureko, sweetness.” Her best friend had frequently teased her about her fondness for desserts. She knew it was something she got from her mother. Unlike her, Stephanie Martinson was a good cook and spent most Saturday mornings in the kitchen baking various dessert recipes. “Yup.” Excited she stepped into the restaurant. Walking into the Greek family owned restaurant, two things assailed her, the smell of good food and the cheers of her friends and family. “Well, it’s about time you two arrived, what did you do pull over for a quickie?” Karen stood at the door waiting for them Blushing, Veronica looked from Karen to Mark. “No, Karen. The Pastor’s wife wanted to take a picture of us.” “Don’t mind her, Veronica.” Sonya stepped over and gave her a hug, dragging her deeper in the room. “You know Karen’s mind is always in the gutter.” “That’s were I like it,” Karen called after them.


In the back of the restaurant, the owners had set up a table for nine, with beautiful bows on the back of the chairs and paper wedding bells hanging above the table. Platters were already on the table over flowing with food. Greetings were made around the table. A few minutes later the pastor and his wife joined them. As they all ate and talked, telling old stories of college as the couple who owned the restaurant brought out more dishes of food. “Mark, this is perfect thank you.” Leaning over she kissed Mark on the cheek. “I’m glad this day is exactly as you wanted it.” Lifting her hand he kissed it. “It is,” she assured him. She had desired a small intimate affair and that is what she got. Things couldn’t be better. Tonight Mark would stay at her house and during the week he would begin to move his things from his place. Most of his stuff he’d agreed to get rid of. His furniture resembled a bachelor pad. Everything was mix matched with no color scheme, except his kitchen. The clinking of a glass had all eyes focusing on Mark’s brother Curtis who was standing up with a glass of champagne. Curtis was two inches shorter than Mark and his hair held a business cut, but other than those two differences it was easy to tell they were brothers, the resemblance was uncanny they almost could have passed for twins. The hostess moved around the table, filling glasses as her wait staff collected the empty dishes and ravaged platters. “I do believe this is the time of the evening when the toast should happen.” Curtis smiled broadly. Mark groaned beside her. “This can’t be good.” “Oh, have no fear, Mark. This will be relatively painless.” Curtis’ face held the look of innocence. “That’s doubtful,” Mark called to him. “When a man who knows all your secrets has the floor.” Everyone laughed and chanted, “Tell us! Tell us!” Holding up a hand to quiet the table, Curtis began, “It wasn’t a surprise to me when Mark called to say he and Veronica were getting married.” Veronica felt Mark stiffen beside her.


“When we were younger, I was ten and Mark maybe eight. Our mother used to baby sit on the weekends to supplement her income. Well, one of the little girls our mother watched one weekend left a Barbie doll at our house.”


Chapter Fourteen “Oh, God, no.” Mark mumbled. Unfazed by Mark’s words of doom, Curtis continued, “This little girl happened to leave her doll, it was a black Barbie dressed in a business suit. After that little girl moved away her parents called back to ask my mother if she had found the Barbie. To make a long story short, she said no.” Curtis paused for effect as everyone sat around the room riveted waiting to hear his next words. “Two months later I walked into Mark’s room and caught him singing and dance to New Editions’ Candy Girl with the Barbie sitting in the middle of his dresser.” The room erupted in laughter, Mark refused to look up, but Veronica could see his shoulders shaking in laughter at his own youthful antics. “You sure you should’ve been a Chef, Mark. There are still a few boy groups looking for an additional member.” Trevor, Tiffany’s husband teased. “Hey, it was the eighties, my choices were singer or ‘Sonny’ Crockett,” Mark responded in his defense. “When I asked Mark what was up with the doll, he told me that one day he was going to find a life size version of her and that girl was going to be his wife. Even then he was able to say his wife would be business smart, beautiful and enjoy being with him.” Raising his glass, Curtis ended the toast by saying, “Here’s to my baby brother and finding his dream.” As everyone raised their glasses and then sipped to her and Mark, she was moved by Curtis’ words, even though she knew her and Mark weren’t living out a dream but a well thought out plan. Yet and still, she thanked his brother for his kind words. “Now that the best man has spoken, I guess that makes it my turn as the maid of honor.” Karen stood. “Isn’t it time to go, Mark? You know it can be a long drive back home,” Veronica looked at Mark, pleading with him to take her out of there. “Oh, no, sweetness, if I had to endure than you’re not escaping


the torture.” Mark kissed her on the side of her head. It was her turn to groan the inevitable. “As you all know I am not a fan of matrimony.” Everyone echoed their agreement. With a hand on her hip, Karen pinned the people around the table with her sassy stare. “However, I am a believer in friendship. When those two things can be combined I can’t resist raising my glass to it because it’s something magnificent.” She lifted her champagne above her head. “To Mark and Veronica…magnificence in the making.” Once again their friends joined in and drank to their future. “Now, let’s open the gifts and have some cake,” Karen requested as she sat next to Sonya. Right on time, the hostess came into the room carrying a single layered cake that was decorated to look like a present with bows and flowers streaming down the side. In the center sat a small replica of them as a couple. “It is simply elegant, Mark.” Veronica admired the cake. “I’ll pass your thanks to Diana.” Turning to him, she asked, “The hotel’s pastry Chef did this?” “I told her it was a gift for a friend. I did special request for a fruit filling,” he whispered as he stood up beside her and sliced into the dessert. A camera flashed as Ms. Paula continued to take pictures of their event. **** “Here open this one first.” Ms. Paula handed them a flat long box. They both read the card, then Mark held it while his wife removed the ribbon and lid. Inside and heavily protected with tissue paper, Veronica removed a pearl and silver frame with an eight by ten picture of them at the church just an hour ago. Impressed, Mark said, “Wow, you two work fast.” “Technology,” Pastor Anthony chimed in. They thanked the couple then continued with the other gifts. They received a set of china for four from Trevor and Tiffany. She


and Mark would just need to go and pick out their pattern. “For the bedroom.” Karen told them when they opened the painting of a nude couple who’s skin appeared gold, in an erotic embrace. “I wouldn’t have thought of putting it anywhere else,” Veronica smiled and thanked her friend. Mark noticed the blush creeping up into Veronica’s face as she observed the picture, then gave him a side look. The picture was giving him thoughts as well of the evening to come. Taking it from her, he handed it to his brother, who was going to load all the gifts in the trunk of Veronica’s car. “This is from me and Charles.” Charmagne handed her the present then snuggled up to her husband. Veronica pulled two things out of the gift bag, a large family Bible with both of their names, birthdates and wedding day already inside and a satin covered photo album with Mark and Veronica Latten embroidered on the front. “Well, you have to put these memories somewhere,” Charmagne informed her. “There beautiful.” Veronica blew them both kisses across the table. “This one is from, Curtis.” Mark passed her the next package. “Let’s just hope it’s not another Barbie for you, Mark.” Trevor called out. “So, now everyone has jokes.” Mark laughed with Tiffany’s husband and their guest. Thankfully, it was a gold clock inside, with The Latten’s and their wedding date etched around the face of it. “I have to admit I was nervous for a second there.” Mark rubbed the back of his neck. “Where is that Barbie now, Mark?” Karen inquired giving him a sly smile. “My oldest daughter owns it,” Curtis answered. The last gift came from Sonya. Inside a wide square box was a wood sculpture. “It’s called familia. I bought it when I first got to Africa. I didn’t think anything of it except that it was nice. When I got back and found out about your wedding and why, I thought it was perfect.” Sonya informed them.


Holding it up, the craving of a woman and man circled together holding a baby, the man held the hand of a little girl standing beside him. Mark rubbed Veronica’s back as he spotted the tears welling up on the rim of her bottom lids. “We love it. Thank you, Sonya.” Coming around the table Sonya embraced them. “Baraka. Blessings to you both.” Shortly after that they thanked their guests and got ready to leave. Mark stood by the door waiting on Veronica as he watched his brother and Charles load the packages in the car. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Trevor stepped up beside him with Kevin, his newborn son sleep in his arms. Glancing at the baby, he said, “Let my brother tell it and I’ve been ready since I was a kid.” “That’s true.” Glancing passed Trevor’s shoulders he stared at Veronica who was chatting with her girl friends. The thought of her swollen with his child overwhelmed him. “Yea, I’m ready.” Turning, Trevor followed his gaze to Veronica. “Does she know how much you love her?” “Everyone knows why we’re getting married.” Mark shifted his gaze back to Trevor, frowning, “What makes you think I love her more than a friend?” Trevor chuckled as he patted his sleeping son’s back. The tall dark skinned man’s deep laughter drew the eyes of the small wedding party. Noticing the stares, Trevor lowered his voice. “A man in love can always recognize another man captured by the same affliction.” “Affliction? You make it sound bad.” He looked at Trevor. Smiling, he said, “Let’s just say it’s a pleasurable burden that I would wish on every man I know.” With a firm pat on the other man’s back, Mark said, “Then I’m happy to be in that number.” Sighing he said, “Do you mind not saying anything?” “You have my strict confidence. Sometimes a smart Barbie has to figure it out on her own.”


Mark couldn’t help laughing at the other man’s words. **** “You took the wrong exit, Mark.” Veronica sat up in the passenger seat of her car and looked around. When they passed a Route 66 sign, she knew they were headed in the wrong direction. He looked over at her. “We aren’t lost, sweetness.” After they left the restaurant and their friends they hit traffic, exhausted from the day’s events she’d dozed off unexpectedly. Now nothing around her looked familiar. “Did you take a shortcut to get around the traffic on 95?” She looked down at the clock. “We should be more than halfway home by now.” It was a quiet scenic route but she was looking for something familiar. Smiling, he said, “Not a short cut that I know of.” Swiveling her head from side to side, she stared out the windows. “Then where are we going?” Reaching over, he took her hand. “I just need you to trust me right now. Can you do that?” Turning her head, from the window, she glanced at him. His hazel eyes were clear, questioning. “Sure.” She’d been on pins and needles since the wedding. Am I ready for tonight and all that it entails? Facing forward, she observed Mark out of the corner of her eye. Striking in his smoke gray suit and silver blue tie from the wedding, he’d made such a striking figure standing at the altar waiting for her. The love she’d seen shiny in his eyes had startled her for a second. She’d had to quickly remind herself that it wasn’t the romantic kind, but one for a friend. Besides she wasn’t looking for the sweet, all-consuming romantic kind, she told herself. Regardless of the fact her heart had given her a jolt when she’d first entered the sanctuary of the church. Sitting quietly she decided to enjoy the view as Mark took them from 17 to 50 and then 340. Finally, he drove down the drive of a large house that expanded out into separate smaller buildings around it. She read the bold gold lettering on the dark green sign L’Auberge Provencale.


“Why are we at a French Country Inn? I thought we were headed home. I didn’t bring extra clothes. We both have to work tomorrow,” she rambled on. Her nerves were beginning to get the best of her. Mark turned off the car and got out. Coming around to her side of the car, he opened her door and waited patiently for her to get out. When she was standing before him, he said, “Don’t worry, about anything, I’ve taken care of it all. You said you wanted to handle the wedding and I could take care of what came after.” “I meant the restaurant.” Looking beyond his shoulder, Veronica took in the beauty of the grounds, with its’ lush green grass and grand sweeping trees inviting anyone to roll out a blanket and lay underneath. Pulling herself together, she tried to appeal to Mark’s reasonable side, which evidently had been pushed away by his romantic nature. “Mark, I don’t need all of this.” She paused. “Honeymoon stuff. We are two reasonable adults who made an agreement to have a baby together.” Grasping her shoulders, he declared, “Regardless of whether you need it or not, you’re getting it, sweetness.” When she started to object, he placed his fingers on her lips. “One day, if our child ever asks about our wedding or how they were conceived, we’ll have a beautiful story to tell them. More importantly, you’re my wife, Veronica and I want us to start this out right, no matter the reason we said I do.” She nodded, her lips tingling from his touch as he removed his hand and stepped to the trunk and removed a suitcase. Once the car was locked up, he took hold of her hand and led her up to the main entrance. **** “Ohmygod, Mark, this place is breathtaking.” Veronica’s voice was breathless as she walked around the room checking out all of the amenities. “I’m glad you like it. Since I didn’t have a chance to see it except in the brochure, I was a little nervous if it would live up to its expectation.” He looked around The Enchanting Suite located in the bed and breakfast’s villa section. “The ad didn’t do it justice.” Veronica stood by the window, gazing out at the picturesque


view of the Shenandoah Valley. He placed the suitcase next to the bed. A week ago, he’d called Karen and she had assisted him in selecting an outfit for Veronica online, her clothes with his, were inside the case. Crossing the room, he walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulder, pulling her back to his chest. The trembles going through her body vibrated against him. Her reaction was understandable. From everything he knew about Veronica she had only been with one guy before and that experience had left her crying on his shoulder one night in front of the library. Bowing his head, he leaned his forehead onto the crown of her head. He’d remembered that night like it was yesterday, when Veronica had called him at two in the morning so upset she could hardly speak. Hanging up the phone, he jogged across campus to meet her in front of her dormitory. They walked silently to their favorite conversation spot, the stone bench in front of the library. She’d initially told him she didn’t want to talk about it, but eventually as the sun began to rise, she’d told him about her decision to finally give in to the pressure of her boyfriend at that time, the president of the debate team, Mr. Smooth talker himself, Jackson Carr. She hadn’t gone into details, but he could easily pick up that the experience had been less than memorable. He’d wanted to run back to Jackson’s dorm and pulverize the guy, only restraining the urge because he didn’t want Veronica embarrassed. The icy bite of the stone seat wasn’t enough to cool the inferno of rage inside of him that night. Not only because of the careless insensitive jerk’s actions, but because that was the night he’d realized that Veronica called him because he was her friend, and that was all she’d ever consider him to be. A week later, Veronica’s relationship with the jerk had ended. Well, things had changed now, and this was his chance to make it right. “Veronica, has there been anyone since, Jackson?” he asked, his lips brushing the curly locs. She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. Raising his arms, he massaged her shoulders, feeling the tense muscles. “Would you like some wine?”


“The glass of champagne at dinner was more than enough.” It was getting late, the sun had already begun to turn the sky to a light purple. They’d eaten, and had dessert, and received gifts and well wishes at the restaurant and now there was only one thing life for them to do to complete the nuptials. “How about I start a fire and you go get ready for bed?” He stepped away from her and moved toward the grate. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her turn, facing him and the room. She rubbed her hands along the side of her pants. “Do you have night clothes for me in the suitcase? Or a really big t-shirt would be great and sweat pants?” Smiling he looked up, from his kneeling position by the fireplace. “No, but there should be something for you to wear in the bathroom.”


Chapter Fifteen She had expected to find a thick terry cloth robe, but that wasn’t all that was in the bathroom with its large marble titled tub and double sink. There was a cream box with à l'amour written in black script on top. Assuming it was for her, she opened it. Heavily guarded between layers of white tissue paper was a Prussian blue gown. The deep vibrant blue was her favorite color. Gingerly, she brushed her hands across the soft material, before she lifted it out of its holding place. A card fluttered to the floor. Stooping down she picked it up and read it. ‘To love, to friendship, to us. Mark.’ The words brought a smile to her face. Impressed, she realized that Mark had really gone all out for their wedding night, for her. She knew that it was the least she could do was to put all her fears aside, relax and live in the moment. This could be the night she conceived and she wasn’t going to let her apprehensions ruin it for her. With a new resolve, she undressed and showered. Realizing she forgot to ask him about underwear, she donned the gown. Staring at herself in the mirror she was awed at the vision she made. The spaghetti strapped gown with its snug lace bodice, sheer lace midriff and satin skirt flowing to the floor, complimented her body perfectly. She was glad he hadn’t gown with the traditional white honeymoon gown. She didn’t want to appear virginal, but warm and inviting. Making it easier for them both to transition from friends to lovers. **** Using his time wisely, Mark had unpacked their clothes for tomorrow and changed into his silk drawstring pajama pants. Sitting in one of the two plush chairs in the sitting area in front of the fire, he thumbed through the local attraction book. When he heard the bathroom door open, he turned. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Earlier at the church he had thought


Veronica could not have been more beautiful and now, he was convinced that no woman had ever looked as sexy as she did in the gown he’d had special ordered. An impulsive decision, but the right choice. Rising he moved around the chair to her. Allowing his eyes to roam her body from head to toe, he took in the blue bodice cupping her pecan tinted breast. The snug sheer material molded to her small waist and full hips, and fell in satin folds down her legs. The gown suited her better than he’d fantasized. The model on the internet hadn’t done the lingerie justice, Veronica did. His body recognized the difference instantly as heat pooled low in abdomen. She was a vision to behold. “Wow.” He ran his hand through his hair. “You have me speechless.” Smiling shyly, Veronica brought her locs over her shoulder and played with the ends, twisting them around her finger. “Thank you. It’s very nice.” She stood rooted in her spot at the foot of the bed. “I’m glad you like it.” Moving closer, Mark asked. “Is it too warm in here for you?” Her eyes shifted to the low blazing fire. “No, it’s fine. I was a little chilly earlier.” Glancing back at him, she watched his approach. “I turned most of the lamps down, I hope you don’t mind.” Standing before her, Mark kept himself still. He didn’t want to do anything to startle her. He noticed that the strand of hair she was twisting around her finger was causing her finger to turn a deep purple. She was scared. “The lighting is fine.” Everything in the room was fine, except her. She must have recognized she was a twist away from severing her finger, because quickly her hands release her loc and lowered beside her body, making small agitated movements. The best thing for both of them was for this moment not to get prolonged any further. “May I kiss you, Veronica?” He noticed her swallowing, than she nodded. Closing the gap between them, he slipped his hands around her waist. The lace tickled his palm as he stroked her back. He heard her breath catch at his touch. Smiling, he brought his lips in


contact with hers. Just like before, Veronica was tentative in her kiss. Recalling the response of her body the last time they kissed, Mark refused to allow her any slack. He wouldn’t settle for anything but all of her passion. Giving all into the kiss, Mark lowered his hand to her hips and pressed her forward, not hiding his body’s reaction to her. Unexpectedly, she moaned and leaned her body deeper into his. Breaking away from her luscious lips, he kissed her down the side of her neck. Her head dipped back giving him more access. Taking advantage of her surrender, he licked the length of her column and nipped her bare shoulder. He inhaled her intoxicating scent of apples and ginger. However, it was the honey flavor of her skin that made him feel as if he were losing his mind. With a hook of his thumb, he slipped the thin strap down the curve of her shoulder. Her skin was better than the finest satin. As he dragged his hand lower, pulling the bodice with it he could see the shaking in his hand and the rapid rise and fall of Veronica’s chest. The final inch taken, one of her breast was now bared to his gaze. Taunt nipple availed, as if begging for his touch. **** Mark bowed his head, then circled her erect peak with his tongue, then flicked it and repeated the move. Riots of emotions were exploding and ricocheting in her belly, as if a kaleidoscope was inside her body. The nerves of earlier had been taken over by expectation and then bloomed into anticipation. She couldn’t recall ever being consumed with the level of need she was experiencing now. When he captured her nipple in his mouth, she buried her hands in his hair and held on for the arousing ride. His hand cupped her butt, as if familiarizing himself with the full curve and ground his hips forward. The feel of his hard shaft pressing into the folds of her sex caused her knees to buckle. If it wasn’t for his tight hold she would have crumbled to the floor. Raising his head, he began to kiss her again. She loved his


kisses, they were better than the most decadent dessert. Unsure, at what point Mark had moved them to the bed, Veronica became aware of the cool sheets pressing against her back. Not wanting the kiss to end, she pulled him down, desiring the full weight of his body on hers. Finally, breaking the kiss Mark gazed at her, his eyes a forest green as he traced the features of her face. Drawing her eyebrows with a tender touch, he then glided down the bridge of her nose and finished by brushing his thumb over her lips. Closing her eyes, she found herself relaxing, enjoying the gentleness of his caress. Pushing down the rest of her bodice, he continued, outlining her nipples and brushing his knuckles along the underside of her breast. Her sex awakened and throbbed. When he claimed the earlier neglected peak she wrapped her leg around his and arched her hips pressing herself against him. **** Mark groaned and paused in his foreplay as he felt the heat of Veronica’s sex through the thin satin caught between their bodies. Recognize that she was just as aroused as he was almost pushed him to the brink of his endurance. Reigning himself in, he reminded himself how important it was to him that he brought Veronica to the peak of enjoyment as many times as possible this night. Releasing her breast, he slid down her body until he was level with her hips. Leaning his head down, he buried his face between her legs and inhaled. He didn’t want the scent of the shower gels and body creams, but the true smell of her essence. The scent of Veronica no manufacture could bottle. The perfume of her body, a heady cinnamon that only her lover would know. That was now him. Smiling he slipped his hands below the folds of her gown’s skirt. Silky warm thighs met his hand. He didn’t know if the slight tremors were coming from her or him. Gathering the material in his hand, he bunched it at her waist and took in the sight he’d only fantasized about. The ebony thatch was neatly trimmed in a low triangle, he wondered if this was a


normal appearance or if she’d taken special care for their night, for him. Either way, he was glad to be the recipient of the view. Bowing his head, he dipped his tongue between her pouty lips and tasted the sweet nectar of her arousal. **** Her hips bucked up from the bed at the contact of Mark’s tongue. The sensation of each lick, suckle and flick of his tongue was so delicious she thought she was losing her mind. His talented skills had her back arching and her hands floundering from the sheets to the headboard, until she finally buried them in Mark’s chestnut colored hair. Tomorrow she could think about how she was totally giving herself over to Mark’s sensuous control of her body. But, now she didn’t care who had control, she just didn’t want him to stop. All of her attention was focused between her legs at the hot tension that was building there. Her stomach muscles began to quiver, her thighs trembled and the small bud between her legs Mark was suckling became sensitive and highly attuned. **** Mark could tell by the erratic, choppy movements of Veronica’s body and the fierce hold she had on his hair that she was close to climaxing. As much as he wanted to taste every last drop of her spirit of her desire as it released from the heart of her womanhood it would have to wait. For the first time she came with him, he wanted to be inside of her. Had dreamed of being sheathed inside of her and he refused to deny himself that treat. Giving her one final lick that caused her to whine and moan, he grinned and moved up her body. Situating himself between her thighs he stared down at her. When she opened her beautiful brown eyes and gazed up at him, he knew he was lost. Tentatively, he leaned down toward her mouth. Without removing her hands from his hair, she slipped them lower until she grasped his neck and pulled him down to her. He pressed forward


and entered her at the same time. The kiss was electric, but second to the feel of Veronica tight wet body gloving him. Pulling back he thrust forward, two more times, stretching tight unused muscles. When he final gave the final push that buried him to the hilt he found himself swallowing her scream of ecstasy. **** She couldn’t believe the euphoric explosion that erupted inside of her as Mark filled her with his thick, long shaft. Her world flipped over and spun on its axis, leaving her a quivering mass of joy. She didn’t realize she was crying until, Mark ceased all his movements. “Baby, did I hurt you? What’s wrong, sweetness?” His hands cupped her face. When she opened her eyes she stared through her watery gaze at his face. “Don’t stop,” was all she could think about saying. She wanted to say, it felt wonderful, don’t stop. I want to die right here in your arms, don’t stop. I never knew it could be like this, don’t stop. However, all those things would’ve taken too long. And all she wanted to do was feel. Picking up on her urgency, Mark resumed making love to her. Guiding her hips in the same rhythm as his, angling himself perfectly against the sweet spot deep inside of her. She inhaled the sweet, spicy woodsy blend of his scent. His nature aroma that she loved discovering became stronger with his physical exertion. She smiled when she realized Mark was a sex talker, telling her how she smelled and felt and how it made him feel. She loved every word. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she buried her face in the side of his neck and listened. As his thrusting became more vigorous, all conversation came to a stand still. Their breathing intensified as she found her legs lifted high against his shoulder. Soon, they both were consumed by a gratifying wave of pleasure. After their slow descent to earth, Mark kissed her forehead. The soft touch of his lips was both familiar and comforting. “Are you okay, sweetness?” he questioned, his voice husky, deep and with a slight quiver.


She nodded. “I’m fine.” And she was fine, even though her body still tingled with arousal. There was a hunger inside of her that wouldn’t seem to abate. He kissed the tip of her nose. “So, you wouldn’t mind another go at it then.” “Can you--” The firm rotation of Mark’s hips let her know he was more than prepared to begin again. Leaning up, she kissed him on the lips. The kiss that started out light, rapidly escalated to something hot, powerful and intense taking them both along into the next ride of rapture. Veronica was surprised when Mark rose up on his knees, pulling her with him. She quickly wrapped her legs securely around his waist. With a firm grasp on her hips, he rotated his pelvic pressing his thick shaft snuggly inside of her. Grabbing a handful of his hair, she pulled his mouth toward her breast. Still thrusting hips he leaned her back and brushed her receptive nipples with the tip of his tongue. “Oh, yes, Mark,” she couldn’t restrain herself from calling out. Growling, he nipped her tender flesh, then laved it with his tongued before pulling it into his mouth. He suckled one breast then the other and never stopped the gyrating of his hips as the plump head of his manhood stroked her sensitive spot inside her. Sinking her fingers deep in the muscles of his back, pushed herself against him, needing the blinding passion that only Mark could give her. **** Her moan and cry of ecstasy blended together and stoked the embers inside of him igniting them to a blaze. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her smell, taste, feel and every charming sound she made. Being inside her body was the closest thing to heaven he’d ever experienced on earth. She was kryptonite to his heart, his weakness. He’d give every ounce of himself for her happiness, her pleasure. Even knowing this, he still couldn’t get enough of her. Veronica had always been like an alluring drug to him before. Something he knew would put every aspect of his being in


jeopardy if he succumbed once. Well, now he had and he was addicted. A junkie with a habit he would never quit. In and out. He thrust his tongue and hard length inside of her simultaneously. She was an aphrodisiac. Her wet warm kisses excited him more. Her moist, snug, hot center slammed him into the orgasmic wall. Unrelenting, it took them both into a spiral of blissful satisfaction that tumbled them as one to the bed in a tangled, shaking mass.


Chapter Sixteen Veronica slipped from the bed. Mark had drifted off to sleep. She scooped up her gown from the foot of the bed where it had ended up at some point, she couldn’t recall. Moving on quiet feet, she crossed the room to the bathroom not wanting to awaken him. Entering the bathroom she closed the door, holding the handle so it wouldn’t click when it shut. Once the door was sealed, she didn’t bother turning on the light. Instead she felt her way to the tub and sat on the wide tiled edge. Oh, my… Covering her mouth with her hand she sat there in shock. She was finding it hard to align her mind and body with the things she and Mark had done. Her body tingled and hummed in remembrance of every touch and caress. Squeezing her thighs together she felt the soreness and attempted to subdue the throbbing between her legs. Her body refused to settle down. Mark had given her two orgasms more than any man she’d been with. Well, the one man in her past. Not just two climaxes, the man had her toes curling and her back arching. He had talent, there wasn’t any use denying that. He was a Chef, a man who knew how to work efficiently with his hands. Even if he were a struggling musician she’d gladly sign herself up to be any instrument in his studio. Her stomach had butterflies starting a hurricane inside of her. She felt giddy and turned inside out, as if she were a school girl with her first crush. Thank goodness he had fallen to sleep otherwise she would’ve been begging him to take her again. She’d already done that once. Her mind tried to tell her that she should be feeling guilt, but her body and heart told her to enjoy every aspect this marriage would bring to her life. Taking a deep breath she rose off the tub. She needed to stop thinking about him and pull herself together. Twenty minutes later she had washed up and found herself curled up in one of the chairs. Staring into the dying embers of the


fire and replaying the events of the evening for the third time. Glancing over the back of the chair she eyed Mark. Asleep on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes, he looked at peace. Running her finger through her locs she wished she could say the same for herself. “It’s just Mark.” She whispered for her ears alone. So, the lovin’ was good. No need to get yourself confused, girl, she chided herself. The little nursery ditty Mark had sang to her at the restaurant came back to the forefront of her mind. She quickly shoved it back. A baby. All this was for a baby. It means nothing else. Even as her mind worked to convince her, her heart beat with confidence and led her feet back to the bed. Never having slept with anyone before, she hesitated only a moment before climbing into bed with Mark. They’d buddy cuddled in the past. This wasn’t any different. Turning to her side away from him, she began to relax and surrender to sleep when the bed shifted and Mark curled up behind her pressing his warmth along her back. “Veronica,” he sighed her name in his sleep. She couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. His hand stroked her stomach and then moved to her hips, before settling. Hmm, nice, was her last thought before sleep claimed her. **** The smell of apples and ginger awoke him. Mark refused to release the dream weaving titillating patterns across his sleep fogged mind. This wasn’t the first night he’d fantasized about making love to Veronica and he prayed it wouldn’t be the last. However, he still didn’t want to stop the flow of images just yet. The erotic visions became almost too real as he vividly could imagine the sensation of what it was like to be inside her tight body. Knowing the silky glove of her sex and how her voice would sound crying out in passion. Just as he was prepared to chalk it up to a wonderful dream, he could feel something warm and soft snuggled against his hard


shaft. If a virile man didn’t know anything else, he recognized the feel of a woman in his arms. At the same moment he realized he was not dreaming as the day prior’s events flooded his memory. He was also aware that one of his hands was cupping the supple mound of a breast. Veronica’s breast. His wife. **** Veronica knew she was wet. During the night, she had become very familiar with the feel of her own erotic juices moistening her thighs. As she became fully awake, to the rhythmic stroke of Mark’s hand between her legs fondling the stiff kernel of her desire. His other hand was inside of the bodice of her gown massaging her bare breast and tweaking her nipple as he kissed the top of her spine. The moan slipped passed her lips before she could stall it. Giving into his early morning stimulations, she rotated her pelvic against his hand. Pressing back she invited his aroused manhood inside the part of her body that ached for him as if she hadn’t been thoroughly sated the night before. Anxious, she impaled herself down his length, and felt the burn of tender muscles. “Slow and gentle, sweetness, just like this,” he instructed, pressing his lips to the shell of her ear. “Rock with me.” He plunged deep inside of her with precise, easy thrusts, circling her nubbin with his finger. Then pulled out leisurely and repeated the move. Swaying her hips, she followed in time with him and enjoyed the sensual cadence he set. Steady and precise, he loved her. “More, Mark,” she pleaded, like a hungry beggar beseeching a crust of bread. As the tension built, she backed against his abs and Mark’s groan vibrated along the side of her neck. Her skin tingled as satisfaction washed over her at the passionate sound, understanding the cue that she must have done something right. She repeated the move.


Mark pinched her nipple and buried himself deep, increasing his speed. “Ah, ah,” she cried out. Mark spread her thighs wide and lifted her top leg behind his, opening her to him. With better access to the jewel of her pleasure, Mark’s touches became bold and insistent, directing her desire to the heights of rapture. Whispering encouraging words in her ear, Mark propelled his shaft deep inside of her. Blindly her hand reached out and clutched the sheets and held on for dear life as her pleasure took her beyond reality. The next thrust landed her in paradise. She wasn’t sure when Mark joined her, but relaxed in the strength of his arms. **** “Sonya would love this place.” Veronica said as they moved through the halls of fine art and detailed miniature replicas. Mark walked silently beside her, using the time to observe her in the full light of day. After their early morning love making, they’d showered dressed, eaten breakfast in the B and B dinning room, then headed out. Not wanting his time with her to end, he’d coaxed her into coming to the Shenandoah Valley Museum before the drive home. He’d always loved her, but it was for all the things she was at work or to her friends and the community and now it was different. He loved her touch, her sigh, the way she moaned when receiving pleasure and her total abandonment. She was his and he’d move heaven and earth never to lose her. Taking her hand, he led her out the door toward the gardens. “What about you? Are you enjoying yourself?” Mark was aware of his loaded question. Evidently, so was Veronica, she gazed at him from the corner of her eye and took a deep breath, then plainly said, “I am. I love the garden and being outside.” He looked at her, frowning. “I never knew you enjoyed the outdoors.”


She giggled. “More than most things. I think because I’m always stuck inside.” Facing him, she continued, “I guess this marriage will be a learning experience for both of us.” “Yes, it will.” He tugged her hand to pull her toward him for a kiss. She skillfully danced away, out of his reach and began talking fast about the different flora around them. Mark knew that once again she had put her cool wall around herself, but he didn’t begrudge her the space she needed. He had to admit, he needed time himself. There was no way he had been prepared for the avalanche of emotions and passion he’d experienced with her last night and this morning. They’d have to take this slow. Things were changing big time. He had to have faith it was for the better. **** “Man, my Christmas bonus better be out of this world.” Gabe moaned as he assisted Mark in carrying his lazy boy into Veronica’s house. “I think I pulled a muscle in my back when we put your other furniture at the curb for the charity pick up.” “The way you keep flappin’ your gums, I know why your parents named you Gab-e-riel.” Mark grunted as they passed Veronica who was holding the door open for them. “Ha, ha. Kiss it, Mark.” Gabe chuckled. “Sorry, my lips are already committed.” Mark winked at Veronica and caught her shy blush and her agitation before she averted her gaze. She was still uncomfortable with their relationship. He’d spent the last two days at his own place packing up the remainder of his things, which had left them little time to spend with each other. “Stop mooning, Mark. Where am I going with this chair, man?” Gabe’s barking broke into his thoughts. “To the right side of the couch.” “Thanks for all the help, Gabriel. What would you like to drink?” Veronica moved toward the kitchen, where most of the floor was cluttered with Mark’s boxes from his apartment. Easing the chair in its place, Gabriel slipped over the arm and sat in it. “Soda is fine if you have it.”


“Coming right up. Mark, what would you like?” Her beautiful brown eyes, shifted to him. He knew she was asking about beverages, but he couldn’t help but allow his gaze to travel the length of her body. She wore slacks and a button down shirt that was made of that female stretchy material that clung to her curves. “Water, sweetness,” he said, meeting her gaze again. “Be right back.” She crossed the room with brisk steps toward the kitchen. Mark couldn’t help following her with his eyes as she left and walked into the kitchen. “You do know that this ugly brown chair doesn’t go with the burgundy and cream décor of Veronica’s living room right?” Gabriel commented. Glancing at his friend, who was doing a good job of making himself comfortable in his “ugly brown” chair, Mark said, “I’ll get rid of my chair. As soon as you chuck your ugly blue one.” “Not on your life.” “Exactly.” Both men laughed. “I must admit, Mark. When you and Veronica announced on Monday that you had gotten married, I was a little stunned, but now seeing how you keep checking her out… man, you got it bad.” Mark nodded. He reframed from speaking when he spotted Veronica on her way back with their drinks. At this moment she believed that their marriage was based on them having a child and he was going to allow her the illusions. For now. “Ah, man, that’s good.” Gabriel sighed leaning back in the chair after he’d downed over half of his soda. Mark drank liberally from his own drink. He’d been moving furniture and boxes all day and his was beat. He still had one more load of boxes that was piled in his SUV. He was glad he’d hired a cleaning service to take care of his apartment tomorrow then he would turn in his key and be done. “Gabriel, I ordered Thai food, would you like to stay and have dinner with us?” Taking another drink from his soda, Gabe stood. “Nah, I really need to be getting home.” He made a production of rubbing his back and groaning. “I’m going to see if I can beg my wife into


giving me a back rub.” “Tell Regina thanks for allowing you a reprieve from your day off ‘honey-do list’ to help me.” Mark took the empty glass from Gabe and went to the door with him. “Yeah, next week I have a bunch of yard work to do. I’ll be expecting your assistance.” Gabe pulled the door open. “You got it.” “Thanks again, Gabriel.” Veronica called out as she placed some type of chair shawl on the back of his recliner that amazingly helped the chair blend better in the room. Mark shook his head. He should have known Veronica would figure out a way not to allow the chair to clash with her precise décor of the room. “See you both tomorrow.” Gabe left. Mark went into the kitchen, maneuvered around his kitchen accessories and appliances and set the glasses in the sink. “I’m going to unloaded the boxes in my truck than I’ll get to unpacking in here.” Leaning against the doorframe at the entrance Veronica nervously rubbed her hands together. She didn’t handle disorganization well. “Can I help with unpacking some of these boxes?” “Please, no,” Mark entreated. “Just give me an hour then I’ll take care of it.” “I understand. It’s a Chef’s space.” Veronica had agreed to send most of her appliances to a charity place with all of his furniture. She didn’t cook very often, so there wasn’t much that had to go. His kitchen items were the only thing that he didn’t compromise on. If the house caught fire, he’d run back in to save Veronica then the kitchen. He smiled. “Exactly. But, once I get my other things out of the truck you can unpack those, how about that?” “I can do that.” Leaving the house, he got the first load of boxes. When he returned he was followed up the stairs by Veronica. “So, where in the master bedroom do you want me to put the boxes down?” Mark was familiar with all of the downstairs of Veronica’s house, but he’d never had a need to be in her bedroom before.


“Oh.” She paused at the top landing. “I thought maybe you’d want to put them in here.” Mark stood in the middle of the hall where five doors surrounded him. One was a bathroom he could clearly see inside, it reminded him of a pumpkin patch, lots of dark orange and greens everywhere. Women and colors, he thought. The small door he figured was the linen closet. The other three had to be bedrooms. Mark took the steps toward the room Veronica stood before. Glancing into the deep purple and tan room that he could tell was a guest room, he asked, “Is the closet in your room full?” She bit a side of her bottom lip. “I um, thought maybe you’d want your own room.” Mark shifted his head from left to right. The room with its frilly pillows and vases filled with silk flowers, screamed female guest. “You thought I’d be comfortable in here?” “Well, we can change the colors and decorate it anyway you want.” Now, Mark was understanding. Veronica was trying her damnedest to keep their relationship on a platonic level. Yes, they would have to have sex to ensure her pregnancy, but other than that she didn’t want them to resemble a true marriage. Veronica always had to be in control. Still, holding the box, he stared at Veronica who was now in the process of gnawing at her full bottom lip. “Sweetness, I know this situation is different from a traditional marriage, but I don’t plan to tip-toe into your room at night, make love to you, then tip-toe back out before morning like we live in the Dark Ages.” “Mark, can’t we just try this out for now?” He wasn’t budging. It seemed as if he’d waited a lifetime to be with Veronica and he wasn’t about to give in on this. “No.” He appealed to her mind. “Beside Veronica it wouldn’t make sense if our goal is to get you pregnant as soon as possible. Our sharing the same bed would up our chances of it happening, sooner than later.” That wasn’t entirely true. They didn’t need to have sex like cats in heat in order to get her pregnant; women have gotten pregnant on a lot less. The scared look in her eyes, told him that she was strongly against them being in the same room every night. However, she


finally said, “Fine, we’ll try it your way first.” Dejected, she led the way out of the room passed another bedroom that had a treadmill and a mat on the floor, but other than that was bare of color. “That will be the baby’s room. I use it to workout, but I plan to move it down to the sunroom.” She paused at the door at the end of the hall, then pushed it open and step to the side to allow him entrance. Entering the room, Mark loved the brown and cream color of the room. The blend was calm and neutral, neither feminine nor masculine. He was thankful. After seeing the colors and adornment in the guest bedroom he had been nervous, thinking he’d be sleeping under ruffles and lace. “Nice. I like it.” He set the box down at the foot of the antique wrought iron bed, with its’ short sheer brown canopy valance. “Thank you.” She opened the closet door and walked inside. Turning on the light, she said, “I hadn’t made room in here for you.” Looking around the walk-in closet, she glanced back at him standing at the door. “How much room do you think you’ll need?” He scanned the deep closet, full of Veronica’s clothes, shoes and other wardrobe accessories, seeing rows and rows of suits. “No where near as much as you require. You could open up your own women’s business apparel store.” She smiled. “You know I spend most of my days at work, so I don’t really have a need for a lot of frivolous clothes. Those I do have are in my dresser drawers.” Giving Veronica a baby was only one of the things he needed to do. He would have to teach his friend how to relax. “Well, I’ll bring the things up and you can place them where ever you’d like. Just draw me a map so I can get dressed in the morning and I’ll be fine.” The smile on her face broaden, she was beginning to relax. “Will do. Now, you get the stuff and I’ll start in here.” Stepping up to her, he made sure not to crush the arm full of designer suits she held, he kissed her on the lips then turned and left. No time like the present for Veronica to become accustomed to him sharing her space, bed and life.


Chapter Seventeen Two and a half weeks later, she was finally relocated in her old office, and she and Mark had settled into a nice routine of working on the hotel’s renovations by day and lovemaking at night. Now, she was anxious to discover if she was pregnant or not. With a week left before she was expecting to start her cycle, she forced herself to wait. She didn’t want to become one of those women who rushed to the pharmacy to get a box test every day. “You have a minute to spare for your husband, sweetness?” Her heart leaped and her body became warm at the deep timbre of Mark’s voice. She crossed her legs under her desk to quill the throbbing center. Since their wedding night, she was in a constant state of arousal every time he was in the near vicinity. Looking up from the computer monitor, seeing him leaning against her doorjamb, she smiled. “Mark, what are you doing here? I thought you would’ve been knee deep in sauce preparing for the Sinclair reunion.” Since the celebrity auction, the hotels popularity had increased. Business was good before the flood, but now they’d been placed on the “map” for Virginia Beach vacation hotels. No longer, solely patronized by people who couldn’t find lodging somewhere else, some guests were choosing them first. Pausing, he put something outside then entered, closing her office door behind him. “Saucier will take care of the sauces and Herman is more than capable of handling the kitchen.” His long strides brought him to the side of her desk. “While their all hard at work, what will you be doing?” “You.” His voice was husky and his eyes were almost completely green, the color they turned when he was aroused. Breathless, she whispered, “Mark, it’s the middle of the day, someone will hear us. Or even worse come into the office.” This wasn’t her. She didn’t do naughty situations at the office or make love all night long, spend her lunch hour sitting on a blanket at the beach or take Sunday strolls in the park. Mark was changing her and she was starting to enjoy their new relationship a lot. “Taken care of. I locked the door and put the do not disturb


sign on the knob.” Reaching out he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her chair, then claimed her vacant seat shifting her between him and the desk. “Now, if you just tune your screaming down we would be all set.” Still standing in front of him, she placed her hands on her hips. “Me?” Stroking her thighs below the hem of her skirt, he gazed up at her and smiled, “Don’t make me prove it.” Her heart began to race. She cupped his face and dropped her tone lower, “Okay, Mark, fine it’s me, I’m the loud one…Mr. Talker.” Winking at her, he said, “You got that right. Now kiss me. I only have forty-five minutes before the Sinclair’s show up for their luncheon.” Leaning down, she placed her hands on his shoulders and brushed her mouth across his sexy mouth. “I thought you said that Herman--” “Shh…” he silenced her before pressing his lips firmly to hers and slipping his hands beneath her skirt. He deepened the kiss, capturing her tongue and suckling it in his mouth. She moaned. When Mark’s hands moved into her panties and caressed her, he broke off the kiss. “Oh, ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’” He spoke an over pronounced Old English accent as he stroked the wet essence between her lips hidden by her clothing. “Your butchering Hamlet, Shakespeare would be extremely disappointed,” she teased. Mark shook his head. “Not after he sees how well we ‘make the beast with two backs’.” He punctuated his words with the flick of his wrist as he raised her skirt to her waist. She laughed at Mark’s Othello reference not caring who heard her. All laughter ceased when he eased her underwear down her legs until they rested on the floor, then leaned forward and kissed her mound. “Open for me,” he requested, his breath flutter against her sex. It always elevated her passion when he paused before tasting


her, as if he were a Nose in Paris and inhaling the finest fragrance. Complying, she parted her thighs with eager anticipation. This was an act Mark performed often on her and even though it didn’t have anything to do with them making a baby, she still enjoyed it, a lot. His tongue lightly brushed the tip of her nub, teasing her with feathery touches until she was mumbling low begging him to taste her. Giving into her pleasure, he pushed her backside against the desk and began to trace patterns up and down her slit, then returned to circle and tapped her stiff peak. Her head dropped back toward her shoulder blades and her palms rested on top of the paper and files on her desk. She was past the point of caring. Slipping a hand between her legs, he slid first one finger inside of her and then another. Flexing her inner muscles she seized hold of his digits, as he curved them up toward her inner walls. When he dipped his tongue down seam of her labia, her hips bucked up off the table. Mark unbuttoned her blouse and pushed the cups of her bra up and palmed her breast. As he squeezed her breast, she gripped his hand, showing him she needed more. Her breathing increased and her head started to spin as Mark pleasured her. When her orgasm hit her and stars exploded behind her eyes. She barely remembered to bite down hard on her lips to keep herself from screaming out. Finally, her world settled, she gazed down at the man who had just given her pleasure. Her husband. After these last few weeks, it was getting easier to think of him in that way. He placed a kiss, on her sex then straightened. He leaned back in her chair, a cocky smile grace his mouth. “Well, sweet Roni, as much as I’d love to stay and play with you. One of us needs to work.” “You have work to do?” “Yes, I do, sweetness.” He stroked the center of her thighs, stopping inches away from her sex. “So, stop trying to entice me. The Sinclair family is probably already starving waiting on me.” Her jaw dropped. Swatting his hand away, she wiggled her skirt back in place. “You came in to my office, buddy boy.” Mark swiped her blue lace panties from the floor and held them out to her. “Only to see your beautiful face not your--”


“Out!” She commanded, snatching her underwear from him as she tried to hide her smile. Slowly pushing up from the chair, Mark strutted toward the door. Veronica fussed with the buttons of her shirt, closing each one of them was difficult because she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away from Mark as she watched the swagger in his walk. “Fine, I’m going. I have to stop by the men’s room anyway. But, we’ll finish this tonight.” He winked. Heat rose into her neck and face at his words. “Enjoy the rest of your day. I’ll see you at home.” His gaze roamed over her body, and he nodded when he saw that she was dressed respectably once again and then opened the door. “Bye, Roni.” “It’s Veronica.” She called at his retreating form, but laughed. **** Two days later, Veronica stood up at the front counter waiting for Mark to have lunch. He’d said he had a special treat for her and she couldn’t wait to see what he had planned. “If I had known you were going to fill out this well after college. I would have kept better tabs on you.” Instantly, Veronica recognized the voice from her past. When she’d first met him in college she told her friends that the way he spoke in perfect articulation made her melt like butter. But, now it just caused a cold chill to shiver down her spine and her stomach churn with nausea. Turning from the counter, she came face to face with Jackson Carr. “Jackson.” She stared at the tall brother in his charcoal 1818 Brooks Brother’s suit with a cocky smile playing across his mouth reminding her that he was always too self assured. He was going to be her five point star brotha until she’d realized there were chinks in his armor. “Welcome to Great Escapes.” Looking around her lobby, he glanced back at her, allowing his eyes too much liberty in assessing her body. She folded her arms over her breast, letting him know his perusal wasn’t welcome.


His grin broadened. “I was impressed when I was flipping through a magazine and saw the ad for your hotel. You always did take a striking picture.” She remembered taking that picture a month before the water damage. They hired a marketing team who thought that placing her picture in the ad transposed beside the hotel would give it more of a personal touch. If she’d known it would up the oily slugs of her past she would’ve told them to go with the picture of the hotel alone. “I’m just glad it’s bringing in business. Do you have a reservation? If not, I’m afraid we’re already booked.” That wasn’t completely true, but she prayed he didn’t know that. “I have one just for the night. I was in town meeting with a client. Thought I’d stop in and pay you a visit here.” Jackson stepped toward her. She held her ground refusing to cower away from him. This was her turf and she was going to remain in control. As practiced as a musician with his instrument, Jackson spoke in a low rich timbre adding just enough base to his voice, making it a clear seductive invitation. “How about I sign in and you and I have lunch and see where things go.” Before she could tell him that she wasn’t interested, she was beat to the punch. “Sorry, she already has lunch plans.” Mark surprised both of them as he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his side, away from Jackson. Jackson squinted at Mark, both assessing and sizing him up. “Mark Latten. Good to see you again.” Jackson held his hand out to Mark. Veronica noticed the muscles in Marks’ jaw flexing. He didn’t even pretend that he and Jackson were old buddies. Instead he let the other man’s hand hang in the air. Covering the slight, Jackson took a step back and smiled. “I was just trying to touch bases with an old friend. However, I’d never infringe on another man’s woman.” “Wife.” Mark corrected. Veronica could see the surprise in Jackson’s light brown eyes as he looked from Mark to her and then lowered his gaze to her left hand.


Her band was proof of Mark’s words. “Mark and I are married and we own this hotel.” Placing a hand on his chest, feigning sincerity, Jackson began, “I guess congratulations are in or--” “If you’ll excuse us our lunch is getting cold. Enjoy your stay,” Mark cut in. Not waiting for a reply from the ex-debate team captain, Mark ushered her toward the elevator. When the elevator doors closed, Mark turned to her. “Are you okay?” Facing him, she smiled. “Yes. And I was okay before you started throwing your testosterone around.” She’d never admit it to him, but it had felt good to stand beside Mark and see the shock on Jackson’s face. The nerve of the man thinking he could walk into her life and get her to sleep with him on one of his drive-by nights in town. “Sorry, I just remember how heartbroken you were over him.” Grasping her arms, he gave them a brisk rub. “That was a long time ago. I’m never the same fool twice.” “He was your first,” he said. She tried to read the emotions in his face, but he was guarded. “Yup, and he messed that up. Are you going to let him ruin lunch as well?” Pulling her out of the elevator, he said, “Not on his life.” “Good.” She allowed him to lead her down the hall and to one of the empty honeymoon suites. He’d already told her that he had a special surprise for her. But, she hadn’t expected a hot tub filled with bubbles and the large tray filled with an assortment of fruits, breads and two fondue pots, one chocolate and the other cheese. She was speechless. “You like?” Mark asked, as he helped her out of her blazer. “I do.” Giggling, she watched his hands reach around and undo the buttons of her shirt. “You do realize that we do have to go back to work.” “Yup. However, that gives us an hour to love and eat and thirty minutes of bonus time.” “Why an additional thirty?” Stepping before her, he wiggled his eyes. “Because we’re the bosses.”


Shaking her head, she did a little shimmy and her skirt fell to the carpet. Picking it up, she tossed it on the bed with the rest of her clothes. When they had both been divested of their clothing, Mark wasted no time in getting her in the water and pulling her onto his lap, burying himself deep inside of her. Enthusiastic and stimulated at the new position, she learned the art of riding her husband. Mark held her hips as he lifted and guided her back down onto his thick length. Veronica heard the lapping of water against the side of the tub as she caught on to the rhythm. Dipping a pineapple into the warm chocolate, he brought it over the swell of her breast and allowed it to drizzle along her twin peaks. The heat from the treat made her feel flushed and desirable. “Chocolate on chocolate, my favorite,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her. Bowing her back over his arm, he began licking the sweet liquid topping from her bosom, taking special care at each of her nipples. By the time she completed her first orgasm, her encounter with Jackson Carr was wiped from her mind. **** Veronica watched Dr. Lavada Hunn, a short coffee-brown woman with her long straight brown hair held away from her face by a headband, enter the private consultation office. Yesterday her cycle had been a full week late so she’d placed a telephone call to her gynecologist for an appointment. They’d done the exam and thirty minutes ago she’d peed in cup at the lab on the second floor, now she sat in the doctor’s office awaiting the results with her heart in her shoes. Scanning the folder, Dr. Hunn remained silent and claimed her seat behind the desk. Tapping her foot, Veronica burst out. “Dr. Hunn, please, the suspense is killing me. Am I pregnant or not?” Glancing up, Dr. Hunn said, “Yes, Veronica, you are definitely pregnant.”


Speechless, her hand dropped to her abdomen. They did it. She and Mark had created a baby. Now, she wished she would’ve told him about the appointment so that he could be here to celebrate with her. “How far along am I?” Placing the folder on her desk, Dr. Hunn held a hand up to her. “Slow down a minute. I can’t tell that from a urinalysis. You’ll need to go back upstairs for some blood test then we will be able to tell a little better. But, still not exact. In about ten weeks, we’ll do an ultra sound and that will give us more conclusive results.” She smiled at her, then turned to her computer monitor. “However, you and your husband can celebrate the good news.” Veronica sighed with relief, she couldn’t wait to get home and tell Mark. He’d be just as excited as she was. Especially since they’d made love more than enough times over the last month to ensure she had conceived a small army. She and the doctor talked for a few more minutes as she placed the lab order in, a prescription for prenatal vitamins. Dr. Hunn handed her a What to Expect When You’re Expecting book and told her to call her if she ever had any questions. **** Mark pulled up to the house. Veronica had called him at work and said she needed to take care of something and she would see him at home around six. He hadn’t heard from her since then. It had nagged at him all afternoon. He’d left the remainder of the evening meal to Herman and left the hotel. As he turned off the ignition, he noticed the time was five fifteen. Forty-five minutes earlier than he’d normally have been home, but he needed to make sure everything was okay with his wife. When he entered the house, he realized he had reason to be worried, the smell of smoke was coming from the kitchen. Rushing in, he saw Veronica bent toward the oven and pulling out an almost charred piece of something that held a distant resemblance to a prior life as a roast. “Now, what am I supposed to do with this?” She mumbled. “I suggest using it as a door stop.”


Chapter Eighteen Whipping around, Veronica faced him, her eyes wide with shock and the smoking meat in her hand snug inside a thick pot holder mitten. “You’re not supposed to be here yet,” she whined looking from the meat to him. “Then who’s going to save dinner?” He used that word loosely as he noticed a bowl full of broccoli smothered by melted clumpy cheese. “I was trying to surprise you.” She pouted. Mark knew he had to be madly in love with the woman to think that she looked adorable and alluring standing in the center of his kitchen with a disastrous fare around her. Veronica stood before him in an outfit that was opposite of her normal style of dress, a cargo skirt that stopped mid-thigh and tank top. He immediately recognized that she wasn’t wearing a bra. That and the fact she had attempted something outside of her comfort zone just for him, made his heart swell as well as an area south of his belts border. He crossed the room as she set the pan on a hot mat on the counter. “How about we call and order take-out.” “Fine, I concede that this probably isn’t edible.” Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her back against him and started kissing the side of her neck. “Not in any language or country.” She tilted her head to the side and gave him more access to the column of her neck. “You’re distracting me from my plans, Mark.” “Uhh, hmm.” He slipped his hand under her shirt, loving the warm silky feel of her skin. “I need to talk to you about something--” He knew her breast were extremely sensitive, an erogenous zone and he used that knowledge to his advantaged. Her plump breasts filled his hand as he squeezed and pinched the nipples until she was panting and pressing her backside against his hard shaft. Even after a month of marriage, Veronica never initiated sex, she never told him no either, but the day after he had moved in she’d


presented him with a list of a sex schedule. He’d purposely got her aroused and made love to her on top of the papers with the schedule then threw it away. Telling her that they weren’t going to stress over creating a baby, but let things happen naturally and enjoy themselves. “Later.” When he reached below her skirt and discovered how wet she was, he said, “Much later.” Raising her skirt above her hips, he dragged her panties down her thighs, then released his manhood and guided himself into her tight haven with a sure thrust of his hips. Veronica cried out, bowed forward at the waist and slapped her hands against the counter. Mark groaned, holding her hips tight as he waited before moving, he loved the feel of her walls clenching around him, caressing his steel length. “Please, Mark,” she whispered on a sigh as she rotated her hips back into his pelvic. He was lost. With a hand on the center of her back coaxing her to dip her spine lower, causing her delicious round bottom to arch higher he drove himself into her. Right there in the middle of all the over cooked cheesy broccoli, burnt roast and sticky rice that was an odd color, he made love to her. Satisfying her until both their legs wobbled from an earth shattering orgasm and standing was an option they struggled to maintain. Having sex in the kitchen had definitely not been on her sex list. **** “I’m pregnant, Mark.” She knew he heard her as his hands stopped in the process of building up lather with her liquid soap. The steam from the shower rose around them as his hazy eyes captured hers. “Are you sure?” She nodded and smiled. “I went to see my doctor today and she confirmed it.” Mark just stared at her, his gaze roamed her body. First observing her breast, he lowered his eyes to her stomach and then


stopped. His keen observation was making her nervous. This had been the reason for their marriage. What they both wanted and knew would happen. Why hasn’t he said anything? “Aren’t you happy for us, Mark?” This time when his eyes met her own, they appeared more serious than playful as they had been since they’d come upstairs. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going? I could’ve gone with you for support. What if the test had come back negative, you would’ve had to get that news alone.” “But, Dr. Hunn didn’t say that. We did it, Mark, and I thought you’d be happy.” She bowed her head. This was not the way she had expected him to act. “I’m sorry, sweetness.” Mark’s soapy hands grasped her shoulders. “I am thrilled for us. I guess I’m just a little caught off guard.” Lifting her eyes, she looked at him. “You do know how these things happen right?” Mark laughed. “Yeah, I’ve a pretty good idea. I just thought we’d have a little more time to practice. I didn’t realize my little swimmers were so potent.” He was smiling broadly now. She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, please.” His voice lowered. “Are you begging me again, Roni.” The sliding of his hands from her shoulder to her breast distracted her from his use of her nickname. He circled her sensitive nipples with his thumbs as he cupped her breasts testing the weight of them. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she said, “I’m not begging, I’m hungry. You remember dinner, the meal we should’ve eaten by now.” Scrunching his face in distaste, he warned, “Don’t remind me.” Giggling and laughing they quickly washed up and left the shower. Instead of calling for take out, Mark threw together a quick light meal and they ate. That night, they lay in bed with Mark’s hand on her stomach. “We did it, Mark. We actually made a baby.” She was still awed by the thought.


“Yeah, sweetness, we sure did.” Mark moved down the bed, lifting up her pajama top, he placed kisses on her abdomen. “What do you want?” She struggled in trying to stay awake. “Boy or girl?” He traced a circle around her navel with his tongue. “It doesn’t matter.” She tried to laugh but the sound came out broken, her energy was dropping fast. Burying her hand in his hair, she stroked his scalp. “That’s what all men say.” She yawned. “If you had a choice. God said, here, Mark, pick.” Mark chuckled. “In that case a little boy. Someone I can teach how to throw a baseball. A son I can take to games and get sick eating too many hotdogs, peanuts and cracker jacks.” Even through her sleepy haze, she could hear the sincerity behind his words. Mark missed not having a father and he wanted a chance to give a son what he never got. “I hope we have a son too.” Veronica drifted off to sleep with the weight of Mark’s hand on her belly and the calming feel of his thumb stroking her skin. **** At six weeks, Veronica knew something was wrong. The light cramps began in the morning. Sitting at her desk, the first twinge caused her to stop reading the finance reports. Her stomach began to cramp, mild at first in the center of her abdomen. Never having been pregnant before she thought about what her aunt would tell her to do when she had menstrual cramps. So, she got up and paced with slow steps in front of her desk and took deep calming breaths. Going into her briefcase she pulled out her book and scanned the index until she found what she was looking for. Reading that in the first month, light pains were normal and possibly caused by the stretching ligaments that support her uterus. She dropped the book back into her case and continued her breathing and walking. Nothing to worry about. “Hey, boss lady, the contractor would like to talk to you about a problem they found with the plumbing that may need to be completely replaced.” Gabriel rambled on as he entered the office. Exhaling a long slow breath, she attempted to control the


grimace on her face. “Tell them I’ll be right--” The next pain stole her words. “Veronica? You okay?” Gabriel rushed in and grabbed her arm. He guided her to the chair on the side of her desk. “Go get Mark,” she whispered. Nodding, he rushed out of the office. Clutching the arm of the chair, she prayed. She no longer tried to concentrate on her breathing, she was scared. **** Mark and his staff sat in a back table by the kitchen with samples of the Chef’s special for the night laid out in dishes for his wait staff to taste. This was tradition for them, he liked the staff to taste the food for the night as he described what was in it. So, when a customer asked about the special they could answer honestly and knowledgably. That’s where Gabe found him, when he came tearing into the empty dinning room. “Mark!” Rising, he met his friend halfway across the room. “What’s up, man, is the place on fire?” Out of breath, Gabe said, “It’s your wife, she needs you. Something’s wrong with Veronica.” The air became trapped in his lungs, turning to Herman, he knew there was something he needed to say to him, but his mind went blank. No one but his brother and Karen knew about the baby. They had decided to wait a few months before making an announcement, especially since the hotel staff had been shocked once with their wedding. “Don’t worry, Mark, I got the kitchen.” Herman called out to him. Bobbing his head like a plastic dashboard baseball novelties, Mark ran out the room. It seemed to take an eternity to reach her office. Once there, he burst in to find Veronica bent over in a chair clutching her stomach. “Sweetness…” Apprehensive, he moved toward her on wooden legs. When she looked up at him, her face was ashen and eyes full


of trepidation. “It’s the baby, Mark.” Needing to hear nothing else, he lifted her from the chair and carried her out of the hotel. **** Four hours later, after an emergency room visit and an emergency D and C, Mark held Veronica’s weight in his arms again. This time he lifted her from his truck. She hadn’t said anything at the hospital as the doctor examined her, confirmed she had lost the baby and explained what they would need to do. Two hours later she was cleared to go home. The fact that she hadn’t spoken in hours hadn’t scared Mark as the fact that she hadn’t cried. Not one tear, from the moment he found her in the office and still hadn’t. Tight as a ball, she curled herself into his chest as he entered the house and walked up the stairs with her. Once they had entered the room, he laid her on the bed and removed her shoes. Traveling downstairs he locked up the house and made sure to switch all the ringers off on the phones. When he arrived back upstairs, she was lying on her side staring toward the window, but her eyes were vacant and he knew she wasn’t seeing anything before her. He ran his hands through his hair, he felt out of sorts and helpless. Unsure whether he should stay in the room with her or go back downstairs. Refusing to leave her incase she needed something. He turned toward a chair by the closet preparing to sit down. “Mark?” His heart leaped and he swung back around to face her. Crossing the room, he stood at the foot of the bed. “Yes, sweetness.” “Don’t leave me,” her voice waivered. Toeing out of his shoes, he climbed on the bed behind her gathering Veronica against his chest. “Never, honey. I’m right here.” He brushed the locs that had fallen out of her normally tight bun, away from her face and kissed her temple. She clutched his hand at her waist and the dam broke. Her body began to quake with the force of her wails. He continued to hold her, staying beside her as she cried, whispering to her as he


allowed the water from his own eyes to slide out silently. “It hurts, Mark,” her voice sounded tiny and small. He didn’t have to be a genius to know she wasn’t talking about a physical pain, but one of the heart. Burying his face in the back of her neck, he said, “I know, sweetness. I know.” They had planned for everything, but this.


Chapter Nineteen “You know what, Karen. I think there’s a reason that I couldn’t find a donor for all those months.” Veronica leaned back in her office chair and held her phone against ear. “Why?” “Maybe I was rushing things. Being impatient instead of waiting on God’s timing.” Karen was quiet for a moment. “Well, now you have Mark, so you and God are aligned right now.” “Who knows?” She stared at her planner, seeing the days crossed out since she’d lost the baby. “That was impulsive as well. I don’t even know if Mark and I should be together. Two friends playing the odds maybe that why--” “Veronica, if you say some crazy crap about God punishing you and Mark and that’s why you had the miscarriage I’m going to walk from my office to yours and strangle you.” “You hate walking.” “So, you know I’ll be good and pissed when I get there.” Karen huffed. “Well, maybe there shouldn’t be a Mark and I,” she sighed. “Veronica, don’t go doing something crazy,” her friend warned. “Do you need me to come down this weekend?” “No.” There was a tap on her door, moments before it opened. “Look, Mark is here and we have to get going.” “Veronica, don’t--” “I love you too, Karen. Bye.” Veronica purposely hung up the phone before Karen could lecture her anymore. “You ready to go?” Mark asked from the door, both his hands pushed down deep in his pockets, he looked as tired as she felt. Things had been strained between them over the last few weeks and she only knew one way to make it better. “Yeah, I’m ready.” He waited for her to move passed him, before he followed her to her car. She handed him the keys, Mark opened up the door, then walked around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel. Minutes later they pulled into the Atlantic Avenue traffic and


head to her doctor’s office. **** “Mark, we need to talk.” Veronica sat in the passenger seat of her car, as Mark pulled away from her doctor’s office. It had been four weeks since their trip to the E.R. and Dr. Hunn gave her a clean bill of health telling her that she and Mark could begin trying when they were ready. “I agree,” he said. Gazing at him, she wondered if he’d been feeling the same way she had. That their marriage had been a mistake and they should end it, for some reason the knowledge didn’t sit as comfortably in her gut as she would’ve expected. “You go first.” Her words sounded cautious to her own ears. He reached over and took her hand in her lap and squeezed it. “Veronica, I know this last month has been hard for you. Because of that I want you to know regardless of what Dr. Hunn said about us being together again and trying for another baby I won’t rush you. Take your time. We’ll do this in your speed.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “That’s very gracious of you, Mark.” He must have picked up on the sarcasm in her tone, because his thumb ceased its movement. “Look, Mark, you’re right. This time has been rough for me. It’s also allowed me to think.” “About?” His response chary. “Us. Babies.” “And?” His tone hadn’t changed. He focus remained on the road. “And I think we rushed into this.” She took a deep breath and spoke to him in a voice that was straightforward, matter of fact. “The loss of the baby proves that and I think we should consider when the best time is for you to move out.” In a blink, Mark switched lanes on 264 East and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. Veronica grabbed the door handle and middle arm rest. Reckless and driver were not two words a person could put together to ever describe Mark.


However, her racing heart was not convinced as she stared out at the speeding cars going down the interstate. The traffic they had just left. “Why in the hell, should I be moving out?” Mark was now facing her and his jaw was twitching with what she could only assume was restrained anger. Releasing her hold on the car, she said, “Mark, you were against my decision to get pregnant from the beginning. I’m just finally deciding to take your advice.” “What? That was before. And as you recall it wasn’t having a baby with you that I was opposed to it was your method of getting one. Which we both enjoyed I might add.” “This isn’t about us having sex and who enjoyed what. It’s about this not being the right time for a baby.” “So, we wait longer. I already told you take your time.” “But I don’t need time, Mark. Don’t you understand I don’t want this anymore?” Shaking his head, Mark stared out the window. “I know the miscarriage was hard for you.” “Was?” A dry laugh erupted from her mouth. “You didn’t have to go through it, Mark. You weren’t carrying our baby. I don’t think I can experience this again. I feel empty and afraid,” she screamed, not caring how she looked to other people passing by observing them. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. When he spoke his words were so soft, she had to strain to hear him. “You’re not the only one who’s suffering, Roni.” This was her best friend and she knew they both were hurting, but she didn’t know how to stop the pain for either of them. “I know.” Reaching across the seat, she said, “Think about it, Mark and you’ll see that it’s best we end this here and now.” Squeezing her hand, he stared down at their intertwined fingers. She couldn’t help but seeing how they contrasted and complimented each other at the same time. The sight was beautiful and made her heart ache. She pushed it aside. Shaking his head, he glanced over at her. “I don’t have to think about it, sweetness, I know we could make this work. But,


I’m not going to force you.” “Thank you.” She attempted a smile, she wondered if it appeared as weak to him as it felt to her. “Take your time in looking for a place.” He slipped his hand out of hers. “I’ll start looking next week after I get back from the Food Comp in Florida.” “That’s fine.” He refrained from commenting and merged back into the early evening traffic, headed back to the hotel. **** Mark dropped his suitcase beside the bed and looked around at the expensive and breathtaking room, masculine in its’ navy blue and white bedding blended with the deep mahogany wood furniture. The room was stylish, with all types of comfortable amenities but it wasn’t home. A dry chuckle came from his mouth. Home wasn’t home either. Before he’d left for South Beach Florida and the All American Feast Food Challenge, he’d moved most of his things out of Veronica’s bedroom. Sighing, he shook his head, and wandered to the patio over looking the large pool below. He wondered how he and Veronica had arrived at this point. Neither of them were speaking divorce but eventually it was inevitable. They both wanted the best for their hotel and didn’t want their personal relationship to impact it more than it had. So, they would keep everything quiet. Not even Gabe would know when the separation happened. As far as the staff would know, they were still happily married. He knew that over the weekend, he would need to empty his mind of everything but the challenge. If he won it would bring another ten thousand dollars to their hotel. Allowing them to do more upgrades and compete on a higher love for tourist revenue. Turning his back to the pool and gazing at the luxurious room again, he knew they would never be able to compete with the Ritz Carlton, but they would one day hold their own as an elite hotel in Virginia Beach.


Unpacking the items he brought, he placed his briefcase of utensils on the executive style desk. He unlocked it and checked he contents. With the airports rules on what can and can’t be brought on planes, he now had to place his cooking tools in his luggage and trust it in the underbelly of the plane. When he certified that all his items were accounted for, he began unpacking his meager clothing. Later that evening he would meet the other two Chef’s as well as the Food Challenge producer and get a tour of the assembled kitchens that was on the beach below the Infinity Pool area. He was both nervous and excited. Moving over to the desk once again he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pushed number one on the speed dial. “Hi, Mark, how was your flight?” Veronica asked, her voice cheery but subdued. The way it had been over the week, since she had told him she believed they’d made a mistake. Sitting down, he said, “It was fine. We hit turbulence before landing, but other than that it was fine.” “Well, I’m glad you’re safe. Good luck tomorrow. I’m crossing my fingers and toes.” “Add your eyes, arms and legs to that as well and I may have a chance,” he joked. “Whatever. You’re the best thing out there. I don’t care who the other two Chef’s are.” His chest expanded as he took a breath. Veronica’s faith in him always made him feel ten feet tall. He just wished his belief in them could move her as much. “Thanks, sweetness.” “Call me tomorrow and let me know how everything goes.” “I will. Sleep well, Roni.” “You too.” Sleeping well, had become a foreign concept to him since his bed no longer contained Veronica’s warm heat. Better yet, since a week after the miscarriage and she stopped snuggling back against him when he laid beside her. Yeah, he’d known there was a rift growing between them, he just thought that he would be able to find a way to bridge the gap. Removing his menu from his carry-on, he studied it, making annotation on the things he wanted his two Chef assistance to prepare and how. Part of the challenge was that each Chef not only


had to create a seven course all American feast, to also include a palette cleanser. But, each course had to represent a prominent ethnic group in American allowing each course to compliment one another. His first course would be his spicy Mexican soup to awaken the judge’s palette. Then he would move on to his Cajun French and serve Artichoke Stuffed with Crawfish and Jambalaya. The third course would take his judges into African American cuisine with his Black-eyed Peas Cakes. Next would be his Italian course of Green Risotto with Fava Beans. A new twist on an Irish classic would be his Reuben Salad. His lemon sorbet would be next to cleanse the palettes and prepare the judges for the main course which was his Asian fare of Teriyaki Roasted Duck and he would close with his all American dessert of Apple Pie Cheese Cake. Just as important as his menu was how well he could identify the strengths and weaknesses of the two assistant Chefs after only knowing them ten minutes prior to the timer starting. He would have four hours to prepare his foods and serve each course to twenty judges. Each Chef was allowed to prepare one item the night before. His lemon sorbet needed to sit over night, so that would be his choice. The hotel would provide the wait staff, which meant that he’d have to train them as well. If he was introduced to the staff before the food was ready to be served, then he could train them as he started his beginning prep. Worse case scenario, the staff would be inexperienced and they would come to him moments before the first dish was to be served and he would have to teach them dish by dish as they headed into the ball room. Nervous excitement pumped through his veins as he secured his list in the locked case and left the room.


Chapter Twenty Veronica was on pins and needles waiting to hear from Mark about the challenge and to find out if he’d won. The judges should have made their finally decision by now, based on the time restraints Mark had been given. Mark told her he’d call as soon as the announcement was made. The money would be great for the hotel, but more importantly it was a goal that Mark had worked toward achieving and for that reason alone she wanted him to succeed. Seconds before she was about to raise the incline on the treadmill a third time, she heard the doorbell ring. Stopping the machine at twenty-four minutes she grabbed the towel off the top and wiped the sweat from her face as she left the patio and headed to the door. Not expecting company, she glanced through the peep hole to see a medium height bi-racial woman standing outside. Opening the door she assessed the woman, dressed in slacks, blouse, blazer and sensible shoes. “Hi, can I help you?” Veronica asked. The woman gave her a warm smile. “Yes, I’m looking for Mr. Mark Kent Latten.” Glancing over to check the number on the side of the house to the file in her hand she asked, “Does he live here?” Frowning at the woman’s obscure question, Veronica folded her arms across her chest. “May I ask who you are?” The woman held the file in one hand and stuck out her other. “Yes, I’m Vicky Nichols, a case worker with Hampton Social Services.” Veronica shook the woman’s hand. “Social services? I’m not sure why you’d want my husband.” The woman looked shocked to hear her words. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Latten…?” “Veronica Latten.” Veronica filled in for the woman. “It’s nice to meet you.” The woman looked behind her, then turned back around and asked, “Is it possible I could speak with Mr. Latten?” Veronica looked beyond the woman’s shoulder and noticed


the car along the curb in front of her house. A least one other person was in the vehicle that she could see from the porch. Refocusing on the woman, she said, “I’m sorry but he’s not home.” Lifting her folder Vicky, the social worker, made annotations, then glanced up and pinned Veronica with an inquiring stare. “Can you tell me where I can locate him?” “Why?” Veronica had to admit this woman’s visit had her mind boggled at what social services would want with Mark. Giving her a small smile, she said, “It’s of a delicate nature and at this time I’m not at liberty to say until I speak with Mr. Latten.” “Well, then you’ll have to come back because he’ll be out of town until tomorrow.” Veronica stepped back and was prepared to close the door. “Wait.” Ms. Nichols placed her hand on the door and looked back over her shoulder toward the car again. “I don’t think you understand the seriousness of the situation.” Her hand still on the side of the door, Veronica said, “I’m sure I don’t since you’ve yet to confide in me what this is regarding and what it has to do with my husband.” The social worker exhaled. With Vicky’s voice filled with sincerity she asked, “Ms. Latten, is there anyway you can reach him tonight? Because if it’s possible for him to make it back tonight instead of tomorrow…it’s important.” Veronica was starting to get worried. “If you don’t give me answers, then you make it hard for me to help you.” “Alright, I’ll give you answers. But, first may I please see proof of who you are. A picture I.D. is best as well as seeing a copy of your marriage certificate.” “You’ve got to be kidding me!” The woman raised her hand, “Please, I need to handle this professionally and by the book.” “Wait right here.” Veronica said, refusing to allow the woman in her house. Moving over to her purse she pulled out her drivers license then walked to the mantel and removed the two frames that held their marriage certificate and single wedding picture First Lady Paula had taken after she and Mark were married. Opening the door once again, she passed them to the woman.


Ms. Nichols scanned the items, smiled and passed them back. Taking her personal information back, Veronica said, “Now may I see your identification.” The fair skinned woman’s grin broadened. “Yes.” Pulling out her social services badge with her picture on it, Ms. Nichols held it in front of Veronica. Veronica nodded and the woman placed it back inside her blazer pocket. “Now that we’ve both been verified would you like to come in?” Veronica stepped back and pulled the door wide. “One moment.” Turning, the longer haired woman signaled to the man in the car. “That’s Miles Redding a colleague of mine from Virginia Beach Social Services. He’ll also come in. As I said this situation is of a sensitive nature.” Vicky entered her home and Veronica showed her to a seat in the living room while they awaited the man from the car. Hearing a small whimper, Veronica turned back toward the door to see Miles stroll into her home carrying a little girl. At that moment, her world started to spin. There was only one reason; two social workers would be coming to her house with a baby looking for Mark. It was his. White spots began to flicker in front of her eyes, the room became hot and everything around her sounded like she was trapped in a tunnel. Too make matters worse someone had cut off the oxygen in the room. She couldn’t breath. “Mrs. Latten?” Someone was speaking to her and calling her name, but Veronica was having a hard time communicating or understanding what was being said to her. Struggling to fill her lungs with air, she felt someone touch her arm and guide her to a seat. Vaguely she became aware of a cool glass being placed in hand, then against her lips. “Take a sip, Ms. Latten and continue to take deep breaths.” Sip and breathe. Sip and breathe. She chanted to herself and finally everything began to right itself around her. Except the beautiful little mixed girl was still there. Mark’s baby. Veronica gazed up at Vicky, who stood beside her and held her hand around the glass to keep her from dropping it. Nodding


that she was okay, Veronica thanked her. Observing the child with a head full of brown curly ringlets and big hazel eyes the color of Marks as she sat beside Miles on the couch, sucked her thumb and stared back at Veronica. By the size of the little girl there was no doubt the baby had been conceived over two years ago. Would our daughter have looked like her? The questioned entered her mind before she could stop it. “That’s Mark’s baby isn’t it?” As the woman nodded, Veronica’s cell phone rung. Rising she crossed the room to the end table where her cell was dancing on top with each vibration. Veronica was aware of tiny little eyes following her. Reaching down she lifted it and stared at the small rectangle illuminated with Mark’s name flashing inside. Sliding it open she answered. “Hi, Mark.” “Hi, yourself.” She could clearly hear his excitement in his voice. “How did you do? Did you win?” “Yes!” He screamed into the line. “It got crazy here for a minute though because a storm started brewing up and we had to move things inside. But, everything still turned out well. One of the judges pulled me aside and told me that I clenched the win with my dessert. The other two Chefs had leaned more toward the exotic dessert.” “What’s more American than apple pie?” Veronica commented, having tried his dessert before he left. “And nothings more American and unforgettable than New York style cheese cake.” “No one can beat your apple pie cheese. Congratulations. I’m proud of you.” She was happy for him, but it was hard to garner the enthusiasm to match his when the situation on her end of the phone was grave at best. Mark must have picked up on the tone of her voice, because he said, “What’s wrong, sweetness?” “Mark, I know you and your staff are probably on your way out to celebrate, but there are some people at the house.” “What people?” concern entered his voice. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine. They’re from Social Services.”


“Why are they at our house?” Glancing at all three faces staring at her, she said, “Maybe I ought to let you talk to them.” Holding the phone out, she handed it to Vicky. **** “Hello, Mr. Latten. I’m Vicky Nichols from Hampton Social Services and I’m here with Miles Redding from Virginia Beach Department.” Mark heard the strange woman recite into the phone. “Okay. How can we help you?” “First, I need to verify you’re who you say you are.” He exhaled a harsh breath. People around him were chattering in excitement and popping champagne and he desperately wanted to be a part of his celebration. “Mr. Latten, please understand I must follow prot--” “What do you need to know?” She rambled off a bunch of questions about his full name, social security number, birth date, mother’s maiden name, where he was born, if he’d been married before, to who and where. After a while he was not only perturbed from all the questions but an uneasy feeling began to creep up his spine. “Anything else?” “Yes, one more thing.” “Shoot. The only thing you haven’t asked me is my blood type.” The woman gave a small chuckle on the other end. “Were you aware that your--” She paused, then continued, “Ex-wife Laverne Danielle Kelly Latten passed away?” Mark could see one of the judges waving him over. Mark held up a hand, indicating he needed a moment, then turned to find a quiet place. Opening the first door he found he walked in, it was a janitor’s closet but he didn’t care. “What did you say?” “Laverne Latten died a month ago,” the woman’s voice was kind through the phone as if she was sorry to be the barer of bad news. “How?” He pressed his back against the wall. He and Laverne hadn’t worked out, but she had been a beautiful, talented and


caring woman and he hated to know she’d died so soon. An image of a tall dark skinned woman, with lips that smiled easy appeared before him. “Car accident.” Vicky’s words pulled him back. “A driver lost control of his car and slammed into hers. She was in a coma and died in the hospital a couple weeks later from her injuries. Laverne never awakened.” He sighed. She’d wanted him to love her. He had, but not in the way she deserved. “Thanks for telling me. I appreciate you all taking the time to find me.” He reached for the door, prepared to exit his small sanctuary. “Mr. Latten that’s not all.” He frowned and asked, “What else is there?” “Laverne had a child in the car with her. Thankfully the baby wasn’t hurt at all.” Laverne had a baby? He was happy for her. Maybe she had found true love after him. That took a weight of guilt off his mind. “You need her grandmother’s information to get the child to her? She and her mom weren’t close and I doubt she’d want that child raised by her mother.” “No, Mr. Latten, grandmother, nor great-grandma don’t have rights in this situation unless the baby is unwanted by the parents or the person the mother has designated in her will.” “Okay.” He shrugged. “What does that have to do with me?” “You’re the father, Mr. Latten. Your late wife left sole custody of your daughter to you.” “I have a what!” His voice bounced off the walls of the small room. He was thankful for the music and chatter going on in the ballroom drowning out his words. “A daughter, Mr. Latten. She’s a healthy two year old who’s name is Alyssa Shara Latten.” This time he fell against the wall, his first concern wasn’t for himself, but for Veronica. Veronica his current wife and the love of his life was now in their house alone with two strangers and a baby that was suppose to be his, six weeks after she’d miscarried their baby. “Put my wife on the phone.” ****


“Mark?” Veronica clutched the phone to her ear. “Are you okay?” His concern for her warmed her heart. “I’m better. It was a shock.” She turned her back to the others in the room. “Did you know?” He sighed into the phone. “No, sweetness. I didn’t know. I never knew she was pregnant.” “Why wouldn’t she tell you?” He shook his head. Things weren’t good for him and Laverne at the end of their relationship, but he never would’ve suspected that she would keep something like this from him. “Ask Ms. Nichols, what happens now.” The Hampton Social worker got back on the phone and said, “Well, Mr. Latten, since you are now the legal guardian, which will require you to sign some paperwork. But, we can do one of two things with you being out of state.” “Which are?” “We can take Alyssa back to a foster home tonight and bring her here tomorrow when you get home.” “Or?” “If you give me permission to leave her with your wife, then I’ll come back tomorrow once your home and bring all the necessary documents to close out the case.” Mark took time to pray for wisdom. At the moment he was stuck in a broom closet and caught between two hard places. He didn’t want his daughter that he’d only known about for the last ten minutes to be placed in foster care with more strangers, nor did he want to cause undue stress on Veronica given the situation. He gave the woman his decision than asked to speak with Veronica again. **** “Veronica, I’m sorry to have to ask you this, but can you keep the baby there with you? I’m going to try and catch a flight out tonight so I should be there in a few hours.” She glanced back at the couch to the little girl who was now asleep with a set of toy keys trapped in her little fist. “She’s your child, Mark, what other choice do we have?”


“Thank you, sweetness.” “Just hurry home, Mark.” “I will.” When the call ended, she placed her cell back on the table. Twenty minutes later, Veronica found herself in the house alone with Alyssa, Mark’s daughter and two suitcases full of the child things beside her front door. Moving across the room, Veronica stood over the small child. Kneeling down she took in the little features so much like Mark’s. Having gone to school with Laverne she could recognize her features in the baby as well. Her heart went out to the little girl who had lost her mother. Guilt also filled her soul remembering the first thought that came to her mind when she’d seen the little child. Thank God the child is not a boy. Mark had wanted a boy when she was pregnant and she didn’t want to consider the pain she would’ve felt if Laverne had still held his heart and given him a son as well. Veronica had listened as the case worker explained to Mark what had happened. It was tragic. Laverne had been lively and kind, never missing a moment during their senior year to let everyone know how much she loved Mark Latten. What had happened between them? Why hadn’t she told Mark about the baby? Taking a deep breath, she scooped the little bundle up in her arms and cradled her to her chest as she took her upstairs. She and Mark hadn’t bought anything for the baby’s room awaiting her fourth month to begin shopping. That month had never come. And now Alyssa had arrived. At the top of the stairs she walked into the room Mark had moved into over a week ago and placed Alyssa in the center of the bed. Taking precautions just encase she rolled in her sleep, Veronica put pillows and blankets on both sides of the bed, as well as dragging the nightstand away from the bed. With that done, she went downstairs to see what was in the child’s suitcases. **** “I’m sorry, sir, but just as we’ve told the other passengers,


with the storm moving in that has a potential of turning into a hurricane, all planes that are here are grounded and no flight will be incoming until the storm passes,” the ticket agent said, her speech clipped. “Any announcement on when that will be?” Mark asked, his fingers tapping against the counter. “None of us are clairvoyant, sir, so were unable to predict.” Mark raised his eyebrow at the woman’s snide comment. Recognizing that the woman was probably stressed from the crowds loitering around her counter, he said briskly, “Thanks.” Then stepped away from the counter. “Next!” The woman bellowed out to her next victim. Mark decided to venture downstairs to ground transportation and the rental car services. He’d been turned away by all of them, until a woman walked up and said her husband had already rented a car so they wouldn’t need both. The man called him back to the counter. “It’s a Chevrolet Aveo, sir.” “I don’t care if it was a clown car, I need to get home.” Mark gave the man his information then headed out in the whipping wind and rain to the lot number matching the key. There was only one car remaining and regardless the key said it was Metallic gold, the car color reminded him of old mustard. Proud to drive it, Mark loaded his stuff into the vehicle and headed home. **** Four hours later, Veronica had sung every nursery rhythm she knew and made up words to those she didn’t. Only to be bouncing around the upstairs rooms with a two year old girl who refused to be consoled. She’d changed her, attempted to feed her to no avail and now was one step away from wearing out her carpet. She felt frustrated and tired. She wanted to call someone but didn’t know anyone. Then she remembered that Gabe and his wife had small children, twins as a matter of fact. Rushing to the phone she glanced at the clock and released it realizing it was almost midnight and too late to call anyone.


Turning on the T.V. she located a channel with vibrant colored cartoons and plopped down on the floor in front of it. She knew that all the child rearing purist would frown at her for using the boob-tube to try and calm Alyssa, but when the child’s screams, became soft broken cries, then turned into an occasional hiccup, she thought about a few choice words she would like to tell the baby raising dictators. When Alyssa finally calmed down, Veronica asked her, “Are you hungry, Alyssa?” With wide eyes, Alyssa turned momentarily from the T.V. and nodded. “Okay, that’s a yes.” Smiling, she stood up. She held her hands down to Alyssa. “What to come with…” her words faltered. It was true that she was Alyssa’s stepmother. But, she’d never liked it since listening to fairytale stories as a child. “You want to come with me and cook?” Toddling up on her chubby legs, Alyssa reached her arms up. Picking her up, she carried her into the kitchen and worked around the room with one hand. Opening and closing cabinets, Veronica said, “Alyssa, I must warn you. When I said the word cook…uh, I meant that in the finding something edible sense of the word.” Looking into the curious little face, that most likely didn’t understand a thing she was chattering about, but the she wasn’t crying so, Veronica continued, “Now, your dada. He is amazing in the kitchen. I bet he can even make you Mickey Mouse pancakes.” “Mick Moose.” Alyssa chirped. Veronica smiled at hearing Alyssa speech. “I guess that’s the first word kids learn after mo--” Quickly, she broke her own words off. She didn’t want to bring sad thoughts to the baby who’d experienced such a loss at a young age. “Ah, ha! Instant potatoes. Part of my contraband your dada must not have found yet. That should fill us both up until your father gets here.” Let’s hope he gets here soon. Placing Alyssa on her feet in the center of the kitchen, Veronica bent down and pulled a small pot out of a bottom cabinet and placed it on the stove. She read the directions over twice before adding the ingredients. She’d learned early on that it didn’t take her but a second to mess up boiling water. She’d burnt a pan in college just boiling water, talking to Karen on the phone, she’d


forgotten about it and ruined the pan. When the potatoes were done, Veronica added butter and then sat at the table with a Lumber Jack’s helping in a bowl and Alyssa on her lap. After they’d both choked down the thick goo, she put juice in a sippy cup. She was afraid to give her milk not sure is Alyssa could take it or not. They returned to the living room and the cartoons. As the hour grew late and Alyssa remained quiet, Veronica suggested, “How about we sit in your dada’s chair.” When the little girl didn’t whimper an objection, Veronica reclined the chair back and made her and Alyssa comfortable with a throw blanket over them. Pulling the little girl close in her arms, she couldn’t resist burying her nose in her hair. She didn’t know who had been caring for her in the month that her mother had died, but that they had done a good job. Alyssa smelled baby sweet, like powder and springtime blessing. She brushed her fingers tenderly along the little girl’s soft skin. Veronica wondered what the impact of this child coming into their lives was going to be. Would Mark be able to handle becoming an instant father? As if hearing the questions she was pondering, Alyssa turned her large adorable green eyes on her as if awaiting the answer. “I don’t know, Alyssa. I just don’t know.”


Chapter Twenty-One Mark was exhausted. The last two hours he had fought all the way home to remain awake. Six times he had pulled over on the side of the road and got out to stretch his legs. Pulling off the exit that would merger him onto 58 East and his last stretch home, Mark picked up his cell phone from the middle console and selected his brother’s number. “Mark, this better be damn important,” was his brother, Curtis’ gravely response. “It is. Otherwise I wouldn’t have called you, Curt.” Mark stared through the front window at the lone streets. “I thought you’d be deep in champagne from your win. Unless you didn’t win, little brother.” He chuckled at his brother’s concern. “Yea, I won. I have several pictures of me holding a large cardboard check to prove it.” “Do you get to take the money with you?” Curtis inquired. “Nope, I’ll get it sent to me after the show airs.” Mark shook his head, the Sandman was still playing with his mind. “That’s a way to keep your silence and not spoil the show.” “Yup.” “Tell me this, Mark. How is it that my baby brother has won a competition that will be broadcasted all over the world showing off his culinary skills, however he doesn’t sound very excited.” Perceptive. That would be the word he would use to describe his brother. Curtis always had the uncanny ability to know when something was going on with him. Even when they were teenagers. “I got some news after the show. Laverne died.” “Shi--” he brother began, then was cut off. Mark could hear Kaley mumbling something to Curtis on the other end of the phone. There was some rustling sounds, the sound of a door opening and then his brother whispered saying, “How did she die, man?” He told his brother what the social worker said. “Damn, Mark, I’m sorry to hear that. You okay?” Stopping at a stop light on the long road, he said, “I guess. It just seems weird that she’s not here anymore, Curt.”


“I bet. It’s quite a shock. Did they already have the funeral?” Curtis asked. The light turned green and he pulled away. “That’s not even the biggest news.” “Hell, what can be bigger than that,” Curt commented. With a dry chuckle, Mark plainly said, “I’m a father.” “Congrats. You and Veronica don’t waste anytime getting back in the game. But, I can’t judge Kaley and I did the same thing when we lost our second child. Two months later we were pregnant with Shelby.” He hadn’t spoken to his big brother since the miscarriage and hadn’t had a chance to tell him that Veronica didn’t want to try again. She wanted him to move out. He told his brother about everything. Maybe it was shame, because Curtis knew how much he loved Veronica and to confess it wasn’t working out. Mark shook his head. This was not the time to dwell on it. “No, Curt. Laverne gave birth to a little girl. I have a daughter that just turned two.” “Holy Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.” Curtis’ choice of expletive brought a smile to his face in spite of the situation before him. “Well, I wish that one of the disciples were dealing with this instead of me.” His brother agreed. “Did you know she was pregnant when you left her?” “Do you think if I’d known, Curt, I would’ve walked away?” Mark squeezed the steering will to tap down on the anger rising inside of him. He wanted to yell, scream and rant at someone. “Whoa, my little brother. I’m on your side.” “I know. I’m just pissed at Laverne for not telling me. At the same time, how can I be upset at a dead woman?” “You have a right to your feelings, Mark,” he brother assured him. “Laverne had no right not to tell you. No matter the reason your relationship ended.” Mark sighed. “So, what are you going to do?” Curtis asked. “What choice do I have man? I’m driving home now and I’m going to raise my daughter and pray Veronica will stick this out with me.” “Why wouldn’t she? It’s not like you stepped out on your


marriage and brought home a baby.” Grunting, Mark said, “No, it’s not. But, Veronica has been going through a lot since she lost the baby.” “You mean since you both lost the baby.” “Yeah.” He didn’t want to get into this conversation with his brother now. “Look, Curt, you get some rest. I’ll talk to you soon.” “I’m here if you need me, baby brother,” his brother told him. “I know,” Mark said. “Well before you get off the phone, what should I tell my Kaley our nieces name is?” Laughing Mark said, “Alyssa Shara Latten.” “Shara like mom’s middle name.” “I wondered if you would catch that. Alyssa is Laverne’s grandmother’s name.” “Nice. I can’t wait to meet her.” A few more words and they ended the phone call. An hour later, he pulled into his driveway, he sighed with relief. The sun was all ready up and mid-day was dawning. Locking the doors he only grabbed his Chef’s case and then staggered his way up to the house. Entering, a beautiful sight caught his eye. Veronica was stretched out in his chair with a sleeping baby curled into her chest. The blanket that was around them barely covered Veronica’s legs. Stepping closer, he observed his wife first. Veronica had dark circles under her eyes, proof that it had been a long night for her. Shifting his gaze to the little girl name Alyssa, he stared at her. The first thing he noticed was the tiny mole on the corner of her right eyebrow resembling Laverne’s. In her sleeping state, she had thick unruly curls the same brown as his hair color adorning her head. Her chubby little face appeared serene and angelic. Leaning forward, he kissed both girls on their cheeks. “Mark?” Veronica’s eyes fluttered then opened. “Hi, sweetness. I’m home.” “Okay,” the single word was raspy from sleep. “Keep sleeping. I’m going to get you a bigger blanket.” Her head bobbed and her eyes drifted back closed. Going upstairs he pulled out two blankets from the closet. One he dragged up Veronica’s form and tucked it around her and


Alyssa. The other he put over himself as he lay down on the couch. He stared at his two ladies until sleep caught up with him and claimed him. **** Mark awoke to the feel of someone touching his hair. Little fingers tapped along the side of his face pulled at his nose and ears. He knew it was Alyssa. His daughter. He’d repeated those words all the way up 95, playing with them in his mind and saying them aloud as he practice with the words. Not wanting to scare her and allowing Alyssa her time to explore, he remained still. When those little fingers pried his eyes open he peered into a set of hazel eyes that were small, yet still mirrored his own. She stared back at him, then her curious fingers took an aim at his eye. Blinking quickly, he stalled a visual injury. Alyssa giggled. That caused him to open both his eyes. The finger came in for the blinding again. He shut his eyes fast and was rewarded with another peel of laughter. It became a game. Soon, they both were laughing. “Peek-a-boo,” he began to whisper every time he opened his eyes. Alyssa’s laugh became infectious and he joined in. “Shh.” He whispered to Alyssa as he saw Veronica, who was still sleep in his recliner, begin to fidget. Sitting up, he asked, “You want to eat-eat?” At that moment he was happy for the times he’d spent with his brother and his family. He loved children and being around them. Alyssa patted her lips with a pudgy hand and nodded. “A little woman after my own heart.” Rising he held his finger down to her, for Alyssa to grasped. Instead she held her arms up. “Up, up,” she chanted. Leaning down, he lifted her lightweight into his arms. Holding her, he stopped. This was his child. He and Laverne had conceived a baby while they were married. Rubbing his hand over her curls, he noticed the same cowlick at the front of her hair like he sported. She had a smile like his mom, wide with a full bottom lip. Alyssa’s


nose, ears and round chin resembled Laverne’s. Of course Alyssa had neither one of their coloring. His tan but pale skin and Laverne’s deep dark chocolate complexion had blended together to make a caramel-skinned little cutie. His little girl would be a pretty heartbreaker when she grew up and each date would be heart attack for him. “Eaaaaaaat!” Alyssa squealed, breaking into his thoughts. “Want eat-eat.” Rushing from the living room, before the tiny anxious voice awoke Veronica, he said, “Okay, baby-girl.” Swinging into the bathroom first he got a clean cloth from under the sink and washed his and his daughter’s hands and face. Entering the kitchen, he turned from side to side, trying to decide the most secure and safe place to put her. But, each way he turned didn’t offer him any solution. It was either too high or too dangerous. He knew it couldn’t hold her while cooking and waking Veronica who had to be exhausted if she slept in his chair, the ugly chair as she referred to it in the months they had been married. “Alright, now Lyssa, you’re going to have to bear with me on this one.” Dragging a chair over from the breakfast nook, he set her down on it. She looked up and gave him a wide-eyed look, as if she wasn’t sure he knew what he was doing. Nodding he acknowledged that she was correct, he didn’t know what he was doing, but was trying to make the best from an out of the blue situation. Pulling his belt out of his pants loops, he wrapped it around her toddler plump waist and then weaved it in and out of the back wood slats of the chair and buckled it. Shifting Alyssa from side to side he made sure she was secure, then slipped a finger between the leather strap and her tummy to ensure it wasn’t to tight. “Perfect.” He kissed round cheek and then stood back. “Okay, now for breakfast. How about peanut butter and jelly pancakes?” “Jellwee!” Alyssa sing-song voice chimed out. Moving around the kitchen, he pulled out his griddle, and the ingredients he would need to prepare his daughters morning treat. He frequently checked over his shoulder to reassure himself Alyssa was okay. Silent with the exception of her occasional jelly call in her


childish speech, Alyssa followed him with her gaze as she sucked her thumb. “You are hungry aren’t you, little one? You’re eating yourself alive.” Alyssa smiled around her thumb as if understanding his words. Once the quick meal was done, he set a few silver dollar peanut butter pancakes onto a dessert plate and poured the warm jelly over top. Placing the plate onto the table, he set his sauce pan back on the stove. Making sure all the range was off he turned and unfastened his daughter and scooped her up. “Let’s eat, baby-girl.” Taking her over to the table, he sat with her in his lap. **** Veronica awakened with a start. Glancing around the room, she attempted to clear her foggy mind. She was looking for something but wasn’t quite sure what was missing or why she’d slept in Mark’s chair. Voices flooded in from the kitchen, one deep and masculine, the other babyish. Memories came flooding back to her like rapid rain drops on a tin roof. Laverne’s death. Mark stuck in a storm. Alyssa. Springing the back of the chair up, she rose from the seat and folded the blanket and dropped it back onto the recliner cushion. Yawning she crossed the living room and entered the kitchen. The sight of Mark chatting and feeding Alyssa halted her progression into the room. They made a beautiful site. Father and daughter at breakfast, a portrait in the making. The only thing missing was a mother. Wife. Laverne. Laverne, Mark’s first wife and the love of his life had given him a child. Something she’d failed at doing. Failure never set well with her. Mark glanced over to her and smiled. “Good morning, sweetness.” Picking up a napkin, he swiped at Alyssa’s purple tinted mouth. His smile calmed Veronica’s emotions, but not enough. This


situation would need to be handled, delicately, but soon. “Good morning, Mark.” She walked toward the pair. “Look who’s come to join us, Lyssa.” He pointed at her and Alyssa turned and stared at her. Stopping beside them, she said, “You’ve got the right one this time, sweetheart. I bet you’re enjoying breakfast a lot more than dinner.” Mark groaned and held out a small forkful of pancakes. “Do I want to know what the fare was for dinner?” She grinned. “No, you don’t want to know.” “Good.” “Juice peas,” Alyssa said. When Veronica noticed, Mark rising, she said, “I have one of her sippy cups in the refrigerator. I’ll get it.” First she turned on the kettle of water, after that she pulled the cup with apple juice out of the refrigerator. Handing it to Alyssa, she sat in the chair at the other end of the table, away from them. “Alyssa, you see that beautiful lady over there?” Alyssa continued to drink. “Did you thank her for taking care of you so well last night?” Mark asked. Pulling the cup out of her mouth, Alyssa stuck her thumb in. “Can you say, thank you,--” “Veronica.” Veronica cut in quickly. She doubted that Mark was going to tell the child to call her mommy, but she wanted to make sure that everyone understood their roles. Mark’s startled eyes stared at her, however, he remained quiet. Lowering her gaze to Alyssa she sounded out her name. “Vero-ni-ca. Ver-o-ni-ca.” At first she thought that Alyssa wasn’t going to say anything. Then the little girl popped her thumb out of her mouth and said, “Onic.” “Ver-o-ni-ca.” She pronounced again. “Onic! Onic!” Veronica laughed and shook her head. “Like father, like daughter.” “I guess we both like nicknames.” Mark chuckled along with her. “Would you like some breakfast?” He pushed the small plate with the remainder of the pancake pieces to the side. “I could make


you something other than PB and J.” She shook her head. “I’m fine.” Silence filled the room as they both watched Alyssa reach out and begin to mash her pancakes with her free hand. The kettle whistled letting Veronica know her water was ready. Rising she fixed herself a cup of orange blossom oolong tea then returned to the table with the tea ball bobbing in the hot water. “We need to go shopping for Lyssa today.” Mark stood up with the child in his arms and placed her plate on the counter. She observed how at ease Mark seemed with a baby in his arms. A lot more comfortable than she had been last night with her. Proof that he was ready for a child, but she wasn’t. “No, Mark, we need to talk.” She removed the tea ball, added honey to her drink and then sipped it for taste. “Can we talk while we shop?” Alyssa dropped her cup, Mark stooped down and picked it up and placed it on the counter. “I think it’s best if we do it before.” “Okay. Let me find Alyssa something to play with.” “She has a bag in the living room with toys--” Ding. Dong. Both of them turned toward the front room. “Who would come by this early in the morning?” She pondered out loud. Mark juggled Alyssa from one side to the other and glanced at his watch. “Not too early, since it’s almost four in the afternoon.” Moving out of the kitchen to the living room, she glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Oh, my goodness, I’ve never slept past nine.” He moved to the front door as Veronica finger combed her locs back into a ponytail as she darted up the stairs to make herself a little more presentable.


Chapter Twenty-Two “Mr. Latten, I presume.” The conservative dressed black woman on his porch, said then smiled at Alyssa. “Hello, Alyssa, how was your night?” “Nightie night.” Alyssa giggled and clapped her hands. “I’m Mark. I’m guessing you’re the social worker I spoke to on the phone.” She stuck her hand out. “Vicky Nichols. I’m glad your home, Mr. Latten.” Alyssa beat him to the punch and grabbed two of Ms. Nichols fingers in her sticky grasp. “Sorry, about that.” Mark pulled back his daughter, keeping her hands away from the woman’s business clothes. “It’s one of the perks of the job.” Her comment appeared honest. “Come in.” He stepped back and allowed her to enter. When they we’re seated in the living room, he said, “Veronica should be down in a moment.” Vicky waved off his comment. “Oh, that’s fine. I really don’t need your wife for anything today. I just stopped by to check on Alyssa and to get you to sign some papers.” “Okay, let me wash my daughter’s hands, then I can get to the papers.” He carried Alyssa into the bathroom and washed their hands. When he exited the bathroom, Veronica had already come back down the stairs. She stood next to the mantel as she spoke with social worker sitting on the couch. He noticed she looked odd and uncomfortable in her own home. He could only guess how unsettling this unexpected situation with Alyssa was for her. Veronica had asked him to talk. He was dreading the conversation with her unsure of what she would say. Did she still want him to go? Him and his daughter? “The night went well. She was a little fussy when she woke up a few hours after you all left,” Veronica explained. “That is to be expected.” Vicky gave his wife a warm smile. “This will be an adjustment for all of you. Especially for Alyssa.”


Veronica nodded. “How long was she in your care?” “Only a few days. Mrs. Latten’s--.” Glancing at Veronica, Vicky cleared her throat an attempt to cover up her blunder. “I mean Laverne’s grandmother Alyssa Margie Kelly and a female cousin name Jill Kelly, handled the funeral arrangements and attempted to take care of Alyssa, as well. However, the grandmother’s illness and care made it difficult for the cousin to handle both. So, we placed Alyssa in a foster home until after we located you. Which didn’t take that long since you didn’t move out of the local area.” “How’d you find me?” He asked, removing the papers from the table too include Alyssa’s birth certificate with his name typed in capital bold letters next to father, reassuring him of the social workers claim. His daughter’s social security card was also included in the documents. Alyssa reached for Veronica and his wife took his daughter from him. “Postal address change.” Nodding, he said, “Well let’s get started.” **** Four hours after the paperwork had been signed officially making Mark, Alyssa’s legal guardian, the hotel called, baths taken, some shopping completed and everyone one having eaten, Veronica paced downstairs. She waited in the living room until Mark had read a story to Alyssa and put the child in her new toddler bed. In a few months, Mark would convert it to a toddler bed. They needed to talk and she wasn’t going to allow the conversation to be put off any further. “I barely got through the first two pages of Green Eggs and Ham, before she was out.” Mark came down the stairs. “Hopefully, she will be that way for a while. I’m not sure if she normally sleeps through the night.” Facing him, she stared at the man that was her husband and a new father. “Last night wasn’t a walk in the park, but I’m sure it was because of the new environment.” Nodding, he stopped behind the couch.


They both stood staring at each other for a moment. Finally, she broke the silence. “Mark, before Alyssa came to live with you.” “Us,” he added. Holding her hand up, she said, “Please, let me finish.” He made a gesture for her to continue. “Before your child came, we’d already discussed you leaving. You were planning to leave after the competition.” Moving away from the center of the room, she sat on the love seat. “Please sit, Mark.” She waited until he moved around to his chair. “I still think this marriage was a bad idea.” His eyebrows shot up, but he remained quiet. Lowering her gaze, she said, “You and I already discussed your moving out. With Alyssa here now…” Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Sweetness, I know before Alyssa arrived that I’d planned to look for another place to stay. But, now that she’s here I think we need to discuss other options.” “It’s probably more important for you to start life with her how it’s going to be. Just the two of you.” “Roni, I know my daughter’s arrival is a shock to you. To us. But, I don’t want to do this alone.” She heard the plea in his voice and the intense look in his eyes. “Mark, I don’t know if I can do this. If I can help you raise her.” Her insides were turning to jelly and her throat was tight. Moving over to her, Mark grabbed her hand and kneeled before her. “Baby, I need you.” “Mark…” her words drifted away as she shook her head. “I know it’ll be hard. But, we can do this together. I know we can. It was never my intention to do this without you.” He placed his hands on the side her face. She and Mark had been through so much. He’d stood by her when he’d come into business with her, stood beside her when her aunt died and willingly married her when she wanted a child. Now just because their baby had never come to fruition could she put her friend and his child out in the cold? “I need you, sweetness.” He buried his finger deep in the locs hanging loose around her face.


“Okay, Mark. I’ll try. I can’t make any promises.” “Neither can I.” He smiled. As close as he was, the urge to lean forward and kiss him overwhelmed her, to feel the comforting reassurance in his kiss. The unexpected emotion and need she experienced, she recognized the similar feelings in the darkening of Mark’s eyes as they became greener. Her breathing increased. Regardless of the state of their marriage, she was still susceptible to him, drawn to him emotionally and sexually. Taking hold of his wrist, she squeezed and turned away from temptation. “We’ll take it one day at a time.” Removing his hands, he stood. “That’s all I ask.” When the desire abated, or at least calmed so she could think about something other than Mark, she asked, “Why do you think Laverne kept Alyssa a secret?” Standing by the mantle, Mark pressed his hand onto the edge. She could see the tension in his arms. “I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself that since I found out. All the way here from Florida. Why?” She curled her feet beneath her hips. “I’ve never asked you, but did your relationship end that badly that she would’ve let you divorce her without telling you about her pregnancy.” He rolled his head back. “I wouldn’t have thought so.” “The birth certificate says she’s yours, but if Alyssa didn’t look so much like you, I’d consider that maybe she wasn’t yours. Was someone else in the picture?” Mark stood quiet then, turned to her. His eyes were completely green and filled with an emotion she couldn’t pin point. Almost as if he was hiding a hidden pain. “Yes and no. Neither of us cheated. We just realized after a few years of going through the motions that it wasn’t going to work. We weren’t meant to be.” Veronica looked away. After the rough start she and Mark had, it was evident that maybe they weren’t meant to be as well. Those words didn’t comfort her, instead they made her feel uneasy and off balance. Rising, she said, “It’s been a long night. I need to turn in and be at the office early.” He nodded. “Herman is going to cover the kitchen for me


tomorrow. If we could push the monthly expense report meeting a few days I’ll be ready.” “That’s fine.” She headed to the steps. “Veronica,” he called her. “Yes,” she responded facing him as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Thank you,” the husky timbre of his voice carried across the room and caressed her. “I don’t know what I would do without you here by my side through all of this.” Inhaling deeply, she stared at Mark. He made a striking picture of a strong, virile man with his broad shoulders and wide chest. The desire to cross the room back to him and allow him to make love to her and reconfirm their connection surrounded her like a heavy weight. Unfortunately, that wasn’t their reality and that knowledge alone caused her heart to ache. Now with Laverne’s ghost living between them things were bleaker than ever. “You’re welcome, Mark.” She trotted up the stairs, needing the solace of her room. But, even that was filled with memories of things she still wasn’t ready to address. **** “Here are some of the mock ups that my design team and I have come up with for the four rooms on this floor that you want redesigned, as well as the two executive suites you want added a floor below.” Patricia Hanscom a designer from a Chesapeake company held a small portfolio out to Veronica as they stood in one of the newly repaired rooms. Flipping through the pages of furniture photos and swatches, Veronica liked what she saw and was glad she and Gabe had decided to go with this company. “I like the navy blue and gold patterns.” Smiling, Cynthia strolled around the room. “If you look on page twelve you will see the different styles of hot tubs and Jacuzzis you could go with in this room. They would minimize the size of the room, however, with the ocean view you could elevate the price significantly. Easily taking this room from three stars to four, Mrs. Latten.” Cynthia faced her with a wide smile.


Veronica looked from the computer graphics colored print out for the room including the furnishing and hot tub to the wide area around her. More deluxe suites were exactly what she was looking to add to the hotel. The top floor already held luxury amenities, but when those were booked, Great Escapes really didn’t have anything lower scale but elite to offer. “Cynthia, you and your staff have brought my vision for the rooms to reality. I’m going to review all the information in the portfolio and give you a call at the end of the week.” Crossing the room, the designer, held her hand out. “That’s perfect, Mrs. Latten. I look forward to hearing from you.” Shaking Cynthia’s hand, she said, “Thank your staff for all the hard work.” An instrumental upbeat tune began to play signaling Karen was calling. “I will and I can see myself out.” Cynthia exited the room. Waving good bye to the woman, Veronica tapped the button on her Bluetooth. “Hello, Karen.” “Hi, yourself. How are you doing?” “Fine since Mark’s winnings finally came in.” “Shopping happy are we?” Karen laughed. “Definitely.” “Excellent. Now, tell me about that hot hubby of yours and your new addition.” Karen changed the subject. Veronica had called her friend the next morning after she and Mark had decided that he and Alyssa would continue to live with her and they would raise her together. “A month has gone by and things are truly working out well.” Moving around the empty hotel room, she stood by the patio window and watched the ocean waves tumble onto the shore. “Really?” Karen’s sounded doubtful; of course the last time they had talked about the child situation Veronica had been upset. “Yes, really.” Veronica confirmed. “We’re settling into a family routine just fine. At first things were a little rough going, but Alyssa is such a bright and sweet child, you can’t help but love her. This weekend we are headed to the zoo.” “As long as the family thing is working for you, Veronica. It couldn’t be me. You know kids give me a rash.” “Liar.” She confronted her friend. “Okay, no rash. But, I’m not planning anytime soon. Maybe


when I’m forty.” They both laughed. “You really need to slow down some, girl, forty will be here before you know it.” “Not as long as there’s botox.” Karen replied. Veronica shook her head. It was times like this that she wondered how she and Karen were such good friends, they were night and day. But, over the years since they’d met, they respected each others differences and never tried to change the other. “Well, I will be out of town next week. I have to go to Seattle for a conference. Then after that I will be in Italy, Willis is taking me on a trip.” “The fine lawyer you met at the fourth of July picnic.” “Oh, yes,” Karen dragged out her words until she was hissing like a snake. “Well, you keep yourself safe. I’ll talk to you when you return.” “Try not to have any major life changes while I’m gone.” Heading toward the room door, Veronica said, “Listen, Karen. If things continue to progress maybe I’ll let Mark move back into the bedroom.” “Girl, whether they progress or not you need to let that man back in your panties. I don’t know how you hold out with Mr. Sexy Vanilla Hunk just steps away from your bed.” She didn’t know how she was surviving either. Many nights, she’d lain in bed staring up at the ceiling battling with herself about inviting Mark to share her bed again. But, she didn’t want to take that leap until things were good and sound between them. “Listen, I’ve got to get back downstairs. I’ve got an hour left of work, before I have to be home for dinner. Mark has probably already picked up Alyssa from daycare.” “Geesh, Veronica, you’re a professional at weaseling your way out of a good sex conversation.” Leaving the room, she walked toward the elevators. “Bye, Karen. Have a nice trip. Hugs.” “Kisses are better.” Giggling at her friends verbal antics, Veronica pressed the button for the elevator and considered her friends advice. Was it time she and Mark started acting like man and wife again?


Her body missed him there was no doubt about it. Maybe he was happy how they were, her mind argued. Sighing, she stepped onto the elevator and selected the lobby. The only way she would know how he felt was to talk to him. This weekend would be soon enough. **** “Hi, honey, how are you?” Pricilla Singleton excited voice bubbled through the phone. Mark leaned back in his office chair and pushed away the order forms and clicked save on his menu file. “Mom. It’s good to hear from you.” Joy struck his heart. He loved his mother, a stronger, more caring woman he’d never met. Until Veronica. “Poo, it is. Why did I have to hear about my grandbaby from Curtis.” “Because he talks too much,” Mark declared. “He’s nothing but a tattle-tell.” “I believe he told me that was you, frequently when you all were growing up.” “I’m reformed.” His mother laughed. “So, Markie, tell me about Shara.” Leave it to his mother, the queen of nicknames, to call her granddaughter by the same name they shared. “She’s great mom. You’re going to love her. Veronica and I took her to see the pediatrician a few days ago and the doctor said she was right on target with her growth and development. Next month she’ll have her first dentist appointment.” “Wonderful.” His mother cheered. “Markie, I know you probably don’t want to hear this but I’d like to ring Laverne’s neck.” “Mom--” “Don’t mom me. I treated that young woman with kindness and loved her just as I do Kaley, Curtis’ wife,” she repeated her old argument. “Yes, ma’am, you did.” “But, I told you when you married her that it would never work. That marrying her when you didn’t love her was a mistake. You can’t fill your life with a replacement and that eventually you


would hurt her.” “Yes.” He fidgeted around in his work chair, uncomfortable with his own guilt. “However, that’s still no reason for her not to tell you about Shara.” His mother sighed. “I honestly don’t believe that Laverne hid your daughter from you in malice.” Getting up, he closed his office door, not wanting his conversation to get out to his kitchen staff. “Mom, how can you say that? She lived forty-five minutes from me.” “Markie, Laverne loved you deeply. I think that the reason she didn’t tell you about your daughter is that she knew you would want to be in your child’s life and that would’ve been too hard for her to deal with. Seeing you on a regular basis and not being with you.” “So, you’re saying what she did was right in keeping Alyssa away from me?” “No, I’m not, Markie. I’m just saying that as a woman and a mother, I can understand. End the end she did what was right. She left your daughter to you. You might have missed two years, but Laverne will miss all the rest.” He huffed, not ready to concede even a little in letting Laverne off the hook. “I’ll forever be grateful for that.” “Well, I can’t wait to see baby Shara,” his mother always had a knack for knowing when to change the subject. “She’ll be happy to meet you as well.” “I’m buying a ticket to the States and I should be there by the end of the month.” Mark glanced over at the calendar in his office. His mother would be there in three weeks. Three weeks for him to convince Veronica to let him back in their bedroom or he would be sleeping on the couch in front of his mother. That was a situation he wasn’t looking forward to. He could guarantee that if his mother saw him on the couch, she wouldn’t let the situation go. Pricilla Singleton was a firm believer in bold honesty. “Great.” “I’ll send you my itinerary in a few days. Let me know if you can pick me up from the airport or if I need to get a rental.” “Mom, you don’t have to spend money on a car. I can pick you up.”


“I know you and Roni are busy with the hotel.” “Never to busy for my mother.” “Ah, you and Curtis are such good boys.” “Only to those who are bias,” he commented. They spoke a little while longer, then ended the call.


Chapter Twenty-Three “Ball!” Alyssa screamed at the television. “Circle.” Veronica corrected, as she finished brushing Alyssa hair into two puffs. As soon as she was finished the child wiggled out of her lap and toddled over to the television where one of her new kid educational video was flashing bright colorful shapes. Gathering the hair-box filled with ribbons and bows of all texture and sizes, Veronica stood and carried them into the bathroom. Placing it under the sink she called out, “I do believe you’ll be the prettiest girl at the zoo, Alyssa.” “Soup. Soup.” Alyssa chanted, only half listening as she stomped her little feet to the music. “Make that two pretty girls and I’ll agree with you.” Mark slipped his arms around Veronica’s waist. Startled she giggled. Trapped in the bathroom doorway, she said, “Aren’t you still supposed to be sleeping?” Tilting her head to the side, she enjoyed the soft kisses Mark placed along the column of her neck. Over the last week, Mark had begun to hug and caress her again. Never pressuring her for more, but showing her he was interested. They were developing a family routine during the weekdays. She got Alyssa dressed and fed, thanks to Mark’s prepared foods. All she had to do was put it in the microwave and follow his written instructions, which usually consisted of something being heated one or two minutes. In the evenings Mark picked up Alyssa, cooked dinner for them all and then got his daughter ready for bed. She and Mark would watch an hour of television together. Then she’d head off to bed, leaving him for the evening. Mark was a night owl, while she was an early bird. But it worked well for them. Each night it had become harder leaving him downstairs alone. Today was Friday, family day. The one day each week she and Mark took off from work. She’d already made up her mind that she would let him know she would allow him to move back


into the master bedroom. “Who wants a dream when my fantasy is downstairs,” he whispered against her ear. Mark wasn’t touching her in any suggestive way. Yes, the heat of his body was pressed along the backside of hers. And yes, his fingers rested on the small space of bare midriff between her pajama top and bottoms. So, there was no reason her nipples should be tightening and her breathing becoming labored. Squeezing her, he pressed her back into his chest and he whispered her name, “Veronica.” The hand that had been resting on her stomach made a torturously slow ride under her top and higher. She prayed silently that the world would stop for one second. One second so that she could feel Mark’s strong hands cupping her breast. Reaching her hand up behind her, she slid it into his hair as her eyes begun to drift shut when they were interrupted by a loud excited cry. “Dada, boobles! Boobles, dada!” His hand left her. She grabbed the doorjamb for support. They turned to see Alyssa who had spotted her father, clapping and pointing enthusiastically at the grape scented bottle on the mantle. “Rats, foiled again.” He gave her a quick kiss on her lips, swatted her backside and then went to his daughter. Excited to see him coming toward her, Alyssa went off in a long stream of words neither Veronica nor Mark could decipher. “So, baby Einstein you want bubbles do you?” Already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, Mark scoped up Alyssa from the floor so she could reach the bottle she requested. Leaning into the doorjamb, she smiled at the sight they made. Mark loved Alyssa and cared for her as if he’d been with the little girl all her life. Veronica had to admit, she was an adorable child who quickly warmed into a persons heart, just as she’d done to her own. “Oinc.” Veronica realized Alyssa was now reaching for her. Crossing the room, she stood before her and received a juice kiss on the cheek, the little girl’s trade mark. “How about we let, Oinc,” Pausing, Mark stuck his tongue at


her, which he did most times, he used Alyssa nickname for her. “Go get dressed, while we keep ourselves busy down here.” Kissing Alyssa on the nose, Veronica escaped and headed upstairs to the shower. **** Mark had blown bubbles until the room smelled like he was sitting in the middle of a Welch’s jelly factory. “Mom-ma,” Alyssa repeated the video playing in the background showing a bear sitting on his momma bears lap repeating her name. The show had the small bear pointing at different objects around the house, but Alyssa got stuck on the word. “Mom-ma.” She said again, she appeared to be fixated on the television. Her little hazel eyes searching the screen as if she were expecting Laverne to appear any second, the sight made his chest tight. It was the first time since the first few days she’d come to live with he and Veronica that she had used the word. “Lyssa, come with dada.” Hearing his voice brought her out of her trance as she move to him. Allowing her to grasp his finger, he walked to the small storage closet underneath the stair. Reaching inside he pulled out a small tub. Carrying it back to the living room, he turned the television off and sat on the floor with his daughter in his lap. “Look at this, baby-girl.” Lifting the lid, he removed pictures from inside. They were snap shots of Laverne, ones he’d kept in his box of memories. His heart was breaking for his daughter, even though he wanted Veronica to be Alyssa mother in every sense of the word, he didn’t want to wipe Laverne out of his child’s mind either. He and Veronica had been with Alyssa for over a month, but Laverne had birthed and raised her, alone. It still ate at him that she would keep a child from him. The papers said that Laverne had taken up residence in Hampton. The two of them had lived in Northern, Virginia while they were married. He’d moved to the Tidewater area to be near Veronica. He’d never known Laverne had relocated to Hampton.


She’d given birth to his daughter and kept Alyssa from him while she lived just over the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel. If his first wife hadn’t died, he doubted he would’ve ever been a part of Alyssa life. Staring down at the Nubian beauty in his daughter’s hand, he still felt shame and guilt, but his anger toward her was just as powerful. “Ball. Mom-ma.” Squeezing his daughter lightly, he looked at the picture of Laverne posing with the volleyball team. “Yeah, momma.” **** Veronica’s heart expanded as she heard Alyssa and Mark’s conversation. After a month of caring for the little girl, she had yearned to hear the words momma. She wasn’t trying to take Laverne’s place, but things were progressing smoothly between her and Mark now and she was beginning to see them as a family. Daddy, baby and momma. At the middle of the stairs, she peeped around the corner to see what Mark and Alyssa had gotten themselves involved in while she dressed. Seeing them sitting in the floor, she smiled wondering if they were playing with a puzzle or something. “Your mother was a beautiful woman who loved you a lot. I know you miss her, pumpkin and so do I.” Mark’s voice was filled with pain. Veronica couldn’t pull herself away. “I get to see her every time I look at you. You have her mole.” Mark touched the small mole beside his daughter’s eye. “And her nose.” He squeezed her nose. “And her chin.” Mark kissed her chin, then lifted Alyssa and blew on her belly. The little girl squealed with laughter and dropped the pictures in her hand as they scattered around her and her father like confetti. One picture of Laverne and Mark at their senior homecoming dance landed face up. The smiling face of Laverne held in Marks arms haunted her. Not your family. The picture seemed to scream.


Mark placed another picture in Alyssa’s hand. Their bodies blocked it from her view. “Now this momma… I love her. She makes my heart sing since I first saw her. I have never loved anyone as much as I love her.” “Maaaa-ma!” Alyssa called out. Turning silently, Veronica made her way back up the stairs to her room. Closing herself inside she realized the truth, Mark was mourning Laverne. He’d loved his first wife. Had married her for reasons couples were suppose to get married, because of love. Not because someone wanted a baby. Now, Mark was stuck. Stuck being a father to a little girl he barely knew. And stuck in a loveless marriage. Love. Her heart echoed the word. She realized at that moment that she’d been the fool in this relationship, believing that she would be able to keep herself unattached. They could remain friends, she’d told herself. Veronica could feel her eyes begin to burn. Going into her bathroom she poured herself a glass of cool tap water and drank liberally. She wasn’t going to allow herself to cry, she’d gone into this marriage with both eyes open and both feet planted firmly on the ground. Just because her heart had gotten confused and tangled in knots was no reason for her mind to lose focus. Feeling more in control she set the glass back on the counter. Giving herself a reality check, she reminded herself that Mark had never asked her to be a mother to his daughter. He’d asked her to help him through this time of adjustment. Well, he and Alyssa had adjusted wonderfully. “The only thing left was for you to step out of the picture, Veronica.” She told the image staring back at her from the mirror. Pulling her cell phone out of her purse she made a call. **** Mark and Alyssa had cleaned up the pictures and placed them back in the closet by the time he heard Veronica jogging down the steps. Smiling, he scooped up his daughter. “Okay, Lyssa-girl, it’s time to go.” When Veronica came down the stairs dressed in a blazer and


slacks, he said, “I know it’s been years since you went to the zoo, Roni, but you’re over dressed by miles.” Grabbing her purse from the hook, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mark. You’re going to have to take Alyssa alone today I need to go to the hotel.” Frowning he stared at her. “Why?” “It complicated.” She headed toward the door. “Try me.” He was confused and pissed all at the same time. Sitting Alyssa down on the couch he stood and rested his hands low on his hips. “I just got off the phone with Gabriel and there are some questions about the new sui--” She rambled, then broke off her flow. “Look, I need to go.” “What are Lyssa and I supposed to do while you’re racing to the office?” “Don’t wait for me.” She pulled open the front door. Glancing back over her shoulder, she gazed at Alyssa who was now standing up on the couch and looking at Veronica over the back. “Take her to the zoo. She’ll love it.” In a flash Veronica was gone. Leaving him gaping at the closed door like the village idiot featured in one of the big tops sideshows. “Oinc, bye-bye.” Turning around he smiled at his daughter, making sure she was at ease after storm Veronica passed through. “Yeah, Oinc, bye-bye. It’s just you and me kid.”


Chapter Twenty-Four Mark didn’t know how true those words were until two weeks later, Veronica was still a blur in their lives. She no longer got Alyssa up in the morning and taken to daycare. Instead he went to bed at night with a note from his wife telling him to get up with Alyssa because she had to go in early. After the first few days, he and Alyssa had established a new routine. They spent time together before he went to work and he still picked her up from daycare, but Veronica didn’t make it home until much later, usually tired and exhausted. He’d pack her dinner in a bag for her for lunch the next day. Since Veronica no longer called to the kitchen for a plate and the two of them didn’t spend lunch on the beach either. Veronica was avoiding him and Alyssa. After the first month, he’d hoped that they all could make this permanent and become a family. He’d put it on his radar to talk to Veronica about adopting Alyssa, so that everything would be neat and official. His daughter loved Veronica and still awoke in the morning calling her name. The hotel was coming along beautifully and they were already booked to capacity for Labor Day weekend as well as the Neptune Festival at the end of the month. However, he wished the same could be said for his personal life. Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. “Sorry, Dr. Hamilton.” Mark apologized to the pediatric dentist. “No, problem, Mr. Latten, I’ve been doing this for thirty years. A little fussiness doesn’t bother me.” The tall lanky older woman with a lollipop smock smiled. “Thank you. Normally, she’s pretty easy going.” Mark bounced and patted his whining daughter in his arms. “It was her first check up and sometimes it can be a little scary. I’m sure she’ll be fine in six months at her follow-up.” Remaining quiet, Mark carried Alyssa to the front counter and got her next appointment date and time. Weaving through the children playing in the waiting room, he hustled his daughter out to


his truck and buckled her in. Originally, Veronica was supposed to take her to the appointment, but with the way things had been, he’d called into work and done it. Pulling away from the curb, he checked his clock, his mother was do in this evening, so there was no need for him to take Alyssa to daycare. He’d just keep her with him, so she could meet her grandmother at the airport. When he spoke with his brother a few nights ago, Curtis had said, “Give Veronica time, Mark, this situation has probably knocked her feet from underneath her. She will come around.” But now he was fed up waiting for Veronica to come around. She ran from hot to cold without giving any warning. If by now she hadn’t realized they were meant to be a family and wanted in on it then he was ready to let her go. Cold chills raced down his arm, with the thought that Veronica would no longer be in his life in an intimate capacity, but it was time for him to save himself. Glancing in the rearview mirror at the little girl who had thankfully dosed off to sleep, he knew it was more important for him to save his daughter. Alyssa had already lost one parent, he didn’t need her getting anymore attached to Veronica and losing another mother. **** Two hours later, he sat in a kitchen chair and tried to get his daughter to eat some spaghetti, one of her favorite meals. But, she continued to fuss. “Come on, Lyssa just take a bite for dada.” “Noooo.” She cried rubbing her eyes and pulling at her ears. Placing the bowl on the table, he said, “What’s up, baby girl?” Leaning toward her he kissed her forehead, she felt slightly warm to him. “You’re not trying to come down with a cold are you, sweetheart?” Not responding, she stared at him with tired eyes, as she sucked her thumb, slowly. Taking her out of her chair, he carried her up the stairs to her


room. They kept her baby medical kit on a high shelf. Thankful to find an ear thermometer, he snapped on the disposable cover and sat in the rocking chair and followed the directions on how to take a reading. When it beeped, he looked at the small digital window. “Ninety nine.” Flipping the package over, he said, “Still in the low grade range. How about some Tylenol? I think Veronica got bubble gum flavor.” Standing, he went into the bathroom across the hall. Filling the medicine spoon with the recommended dose he gave it to his daughter. Back in her room, he rocked with her until she fell asleep. Placing Alyssa in her bed, he turned on the monitor and went downstairs to marinade the meat for his mother’s arrival. She loved roast and spinach. He had been working on a new recipe and he couldn’t wait to surprise her. While she was here, he’d talk to her about him and Veronica. Get her to help him find a suitable apartment for him and Alyssa. **** “Veronica, you and Mark need to take a trip to Italy. No one can be in Venice and not fall in love,” Karen’s enthusiastic words clearly heard through Veronica’s cell phone ear plug. Standing outside, Veronica looked up and down the beach that was less crowded at night, but still just as busy. It was dusk outside the waves were coming in closer to the boardwalk. “So, you’ve fallen in love.” “For the days I was there, I sure did.” Karen laughed. Veronica smiled at her friend’s words she could guess what was coming next. “And Willis now?” “Is on the curb with the rest of the men I’ve left broken hearted.” Karen’s must have snapped her fingers, because Veronica heard a popping sound on the other end. Shaking her head, Veronica wished she could be a little more like her friend, a person able to guard her heart against falling in love. “Karen, maybe you have the right of things. Love ‘em and dump ‘em.”


There was a pause on the other end and then Karen erupted. “What in the hell has gotten into you while I’ve been gone?” She leaned down on the rail. “Nothing. Maybe I’ve just waken up. You know I never did believe in love and happily ever after.” “Bull, Veronica. You’re almost as sappy about it as Tiffany, Charmagne and Sonya.” “Well, it didn’t work out very well for Sonya now did it?” Before Karen could answer, she continued, “Besides, Karen, don’t act like you don’t recall why Mark and I got married. This wasn’t some love match.” “Wasn’t it?” Karen asked her question blunt. Those words caught her off guard. Locating a bench she sat, for some reason her knees had begun to go weak. “Of course I love Mark, outside of you he’s my best friend.” If she could convince Karen she didn’t love Mark in a romantic way then maybe Karen could convince her. “I have a lot of close male friends, Veronica, and none of them have I ever desired to play footsies with under the sheets. Especially not without it feeling weird. And I’m a freak.” “You won’t hear any disagreement from me.” Veronica remembered her and Mark’s wedding night, there had been nothing weird or uncomfortable about being with him. She’d been nervous, but aroused as well. “Don’t pussyfoot around the obvious, Veronica, I’m too jet lagged to dance with you tonight.” Directing her anger at Karen instead of herself, she said, “Look, don’t get pissy with me because what I choose for my life.” “You’re a grown woman. You can choose to do whatever the hell you want. But, at least do it straight up,” Karen barked at her through the phone. She and Karen hadn’t argued with each other over relationships, since Veronica started dating Jackson in college. Karen had attempted to tell her Jackson was a player. Veronica had been pulled in by his suave words. In the end, Karen had been right. She had just never told Karen how accurately she’d pinned the fine brotha looking for another notch on his headboard. “What does that mean?” Veronica folded her arms under her breast. There was a beep on her phone but Veronica ignored it, and allowed whoever it was calling her to leave a voice message.


“Simple. Face the facts before you.” Lowering her voice, so as not to be heard by any of her staff mingling around outside, she whispered, “Fact. Mark and I should have stayed friend. Just friends.” “Fiction, because you and Mark were never, just friends.” Veronica opened her mouth to respond, however Karen beat her to the punch. “Before you contradict me, tell me. Why haven’t you dated anyone but Jackson Carr?” Feeling uncomfortable, she stood and faced the ocean again. “I’ve had plenty of dates.” “Name the ones you’ve allowed to take you out more than once.” She gave a dry humorless chuckle. “Don’t judge me on something you’re just as guilty of.” “But, you’re not me. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been running all over town with a book trying to pick your baby’s dad because your aunt’s death had left a hole in you the size of Mount Vesuvius.” Her throat became tight. Veronica struggled to get her words out. “That’s not fair, Karen.” Karen’s voice gentled. “No, Veronica, what isn’t fair is you not seeing the truth before your eyes. You love Mark. You have always loved Mark. Maybe all those years of us talking about our perfect five point star brotha has kept you from believing in what you all have could be real. Has been real. Is real.” Two tears rolled silently along her cheeks, she brushed them away. “What am I supposed to do with that? Mark never wanted to be with me, especially not romantically. He loves Laverne. Still.” “Maybe.” Karen conceded. “Have you ever wondered why Mark has always been there when you need him?” “You’re reading too much into things.” “Maybe you’re not reading enough. Or you don’t want to see it.” No, she didn’t want to see it. Because seeing it meant hurt. Pain. Risking her heart to a man who wanted another. Running her hand over her locs, laying snug against her head and arranged in her standard bun, she sighed. “It’s not just Mark and me… there’s Alyssa.”


Karen sighed louder. “Veronica, I can’t tell you what to do. I know it would be hard for me to be a mother to a child that wasn’t mine, especially after your own loss. Whatever you decide you have to live with it. No half measures. Decide quick, girl, this has drawn out long enough.” Hearing fast and heavy steps behind her, Veronica glanced over her shoulder and saw Gabriel coming. Quickly, she wiped the water from her face and said, “I have to go Gabriel is searching for me. Hugs.” “Kisses are better. Think about what I said, Veronica.” Karen said. “I will and I love you too.” Tapping her ear piece she disconnected the call. “Veronica, I’m glad I found you. Mark has been trying to reach you.” Gabriel’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “Okay.” She frowned, not understanding the urgency. “I’ll call him back. I’m on my way inside now--” Grabbing her arm, Gabriel said, “Mark took Alyssa to the hospital.” The floor dropped out of her world. “What? Why? Which one?” Handing her purse to her, Gabriel rushed beside her along the path down the side of the hotel reaching the employee parking lot and filled her in. “All I know is that he said she had a low grade fever when they got home from the dentist office and he gave her some Tylenol. It broke for a while, but when it returned it was a hundred and three. He took her to Bayside.” Standing beside her car she fumbled inside her purse until she extracted her keys. Her hands were shaking so bad it took her three tries to get it in the lock. “Are you going to be okay to drive?” Concern was etched all over his features. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Yes.” Getting behind the wheel she started the car. Remembering something, she hopped back out and noticed Gabriel’s eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline. “You change your mind?” “No, Mark’s mother is due in tonight.”


“I’m already on it. Mark gave me the information.” Always efficient, he pulled a small tablet out of his shirt pocket and read back what Mark had given him. “That should be correct. Just look for a tall slender white woman with short brown hair.” “Got it. Now go see about your baby.” Gabriel pushed her car door shut as she got back in the vehicle. Her baby. Those words bounced around in her head as she reversed out of her parking spot and headed to the hospital on Independence Boulevard. **** “Please, someone help me.” Mark rushed to the counter with Alyssa in his arms. He’d almost had an accident twice on the road, staring into the mirror trying to check on Alyssa who was flushed faced and limp in her car seat. The nurse on the side of the check-in window, seeing his daughter appearing wilted in his arms, stood up and pushed a button. “Go on back, sir.” Another nurse met him in the corridor and directed him into a curtained off bed. Taking Alyssa from his arms she placed her down on the bed. Quick and proficient, the woman slapped a childsize cuff onto Alyssa, another clamp on her finger and began listening to her heartbeat and breathing with her stethoscope. While the nurse was writing things down on a sheet fastened to a medical clipboard, an older black man came in, introduced himself as Dr. Wesley Billings and began to ask him what seemed like a million and one questions about things he couldn’t answer. “I don’t know if she’s allergic to anything… No, she hasn’t been around any sick kids that I know of.” “She is your daughter, right?” Dr. Billings observed him. “Yes. Alyssa recently came to live with my wife and I,” he explained. “Can you contact her birth mother? Maybe she can give us some insight.” “Only if you have Jacobs ladder somewhere in here.” When the doctor frowned, he clarified, “Her birth mother died in a car


accident.” Nodding, the doctor stepped closer to Alyssa as he read the information on the chart. As they spoke among each other in medical jargon, another nurse came and asked him for his insurance information. Handing her his identification and his insurance card, he kept watch on his daughter and prayed that Alyssa would be okay.


Chapter Twenty-Five Veronica never liked hospitals. Every time she’d been at one, someone was sick or dying. Never anything joyous happening. Crossing the threshold at Sentara Bayside was no different. Fear clutched its icy grips at her chest as she walked to the desk of the pediatric unit. “Hello, I’m looking for Alyssa Latten.” The nurse with Brenda Barrett, nurse manager embroidered on her smock decorated with Disney Fairies, asked, “Who are you?” Veronica looked at the woman and digested her question. Who was she? Who did she want to be in Alyssa life? Remembering Alyssa cherubic smile, her sweet laugh and the way she gave sloppy kisses, she knew the answer. “I’m her mother. I’m Alyssa Latten’s mother.” She repeated it, ensuring that she understood the implications herself. There was no turning back from here. Smiling, the woman stood, and directed her to the room where Mark and Alyssa were. Thanking the woman, she moved down the hall and stopped at the indicated door. Stepping to the side, she stared into the window where Mark sat beside Alyssa’s bed. His head was lying on his forearm as he held his daughters hand. They both appeared to be sleeping. Guilt assailed her. Over the last couple of weeks she kept herself away from an innocent child and a man who did everything in his power to be a good husband and father. “I’ve been so wrong,” she whispered to herself. Watching them through the glass, she realized how much she truly loved them both. She didn’t want to lose either of them. Once Alyssa was well and they left the hospital, she would take him out to dinner and tell him of her plan to have him and Alyssa in her life. When she entered the room, Mark glanced up at her. “So, I see Gabriel found you.” Moving deeper into the room, she stood next to Alyssa’s bed and brushed the wayward curls away from the little girl’s face. “I


was outside taking a break.” “I tried to call you.” Shifting her eyes from Alyssa to him, she said, “I was talking to Karen. She’s back from Italy. I didn’t know it was you. I figured whoever was calling would leave a message.” “When you have kids, Veronica, you at least have to check the incoming calls to make sure it’s not about them.” Guilty as charged, Veronica didn’t respond. Mark had every right to be upset. He’d asked her for her help with Alyssa and because of her own insecurities she’d left him to do it alone. But, this was not the place to discuss it. “What did the doctor say is wrong with her?” “F.U.O.” An older black man wearing a hospital badge clipped to his lab coat lapel reading Wesley Billings, MD strolled into the room. “Which stands for what?” Veronica asked. Standing at the foot of the bed, he lifted Alyssa’s record from the foot of the bed. “Fever of unknown origin.” “Is she going to be okay?” Mark hadn’t moved from his seated position, as if he were afraid to let go of his daughter’s hand. “Can we take her home?” Veronica asked. Glancing from left to right as if he were unsure who to answer first, he said, “Yes. She is going to be okay. You may take her home in the morning as long as there is no change in her status. Alyssa’s fever is down for now, but we still need to eliminate all possibilities. Some of her test will not be back until morning.” She and Mark nodded at the information the doctor had provided. “Any other questions?” Dr. Billings asked. “No,” Mark responded. When the doctor left, she pulled up a chair on the other side of Alyssa’s bed and prepared herself to wait with him through the night. “You know you don’t have to stay here with me, Veronica. I’m sure you have some work to do.” That was a verbal slap if she’d ever heard one, but once again it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it. This was just step one in proving to Mark she was committed to him and Alyssa. “I’m where I want to be.” “Suit yourself.” Closing her off, he stared at Alyssa watching


her respirations. Then glanced over at the monitor and IV connected to their child, anywhere but at her. Pulling her hand up to her mouth, Veronica hid a smile, seeing that no matter how hard he tried, Mark’s gaze continuously rested on her when he thought she wasn’t looking. An hour later, the silence between them was broken by the entrance of a tall white woman with short brown hair and warm hazel eyes. **** “Where’s my grandbaby?” Pricilla Shara Singleton, entered the room, dressed in a pair of capri pants, a fitted button down top and her three inch Italian pointy shoes. She was a sight to behold. He finally released his daughter’s hand and got up to greet his mother. After receiving a kiss from her on both his cheeks, he pulled her into a bear-hug. “Boy, let me go before you break my ribs.” She swatted his shoulder in a motherly tap, as he released her. “David would have a fit if I didn’t return back to him in one piece.” “Why didn’t Major Singleton come with you?” Mark asked. He didn’t care for his mother flying across oceans and countries alone. Waving his concern away, he mother said, “He had some fly over stuff with his squadron. If I waited on him to travel I wouldn’t have visited half the places I’ve been.” Seeing their manager standing in the hall, Mark excused himself and shook Gabriel’s hand. Taking his mother’s suitcase from him, he said, “Thanks, man, for everything.” “Anytime. I know you would do the same for me if it were one of my kids.” Mark nodded and waved good-bye to him. When he walked back into the room and placed his mother’s suitcase next to the door, his mother had just finished hugging Veronica and was now clasping his wife’s face. “Roni, you are as gorgeous as you were in college. How is it that I’m aging and you’re not? I can see why my son lov--” “You’re beautiful to me, Mom.” Mark cut his mother’s words. The last thing he needed was her sprouting off how long he’d


loved her. When he first met Veronica, he’d called his mother that night and said he met her daughter in-law. Over the years as his friendship with Veronica had progressed, she’d been the one to tell him to confess his feelings to Veronica. But, he refused. When he had started dating Laverne and brought her home to meet his mother, the first thing his mother did was pull him aside. She’d told him that he couldn’t fill his heart with a look-a-like when the person he really loved already overflowed it. “Sure I am. Hundreds of dollars worth of Italian cream helps, but still the laugh lines appear.” Glancing at him over her shoulder, she winked at him. “That’s because you’re always laughing.” “This is true.” Facing the bed, she stood back and observed Alyssa. “Now, that’s a true beauty, Markie.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Veronica biting down on her lip to control her laughter at his childhood nickname. “Yeah, she is Mom.” “She has yours and Mark’s eyes, Mrs. Singleton.” Veronica chimed in. Looking back at Veronica, she said, “Roni, I’ve told you before not to be so formal. Now with you and my Markie boy married, I’ve been waiting to hear you call me Momma Pricilla.” Mark eyed his wife. She hadn’t called anyone Momma since her mother had passed away. When Veronica smiled and without missing a beat said, “Momma Pricilla, I’m glad you’re here.” He sighed with relief. His mother hugged her again. “So, am I.” “So, what are the doctors saying about Shara?” His mother moved over to the chair he had vacated and sat in it. “Pretty much what I told them when I got here. Alyssa has a fever and they don’t know what caused it.” Cupping Alyssa’s hand in her own, she said, “It’s times like this I know why they say that doctors are practicing medicine.” “They said that as long as her fever doesn’t come back then she can go home in the morning.” Veronica filled in. Mark made the mistake of looking at Veronica. She looked tired and worried. He wanted to go to her and pull her in his arms and tell her things were going to be fine. But, the last thing he needed on top of his day was getting rebuffed by her.


“Have you all decided who’s going to stay here through the night with her?” his mother asked. Looking down at her, seated in the chair, he noticed his mother’s eyes held a gleam in them. Evidently she caught him staring at his wife. “I will.” Mark volunteered. “I’d plan to. Mark has been with her all day while I was at work.” Veronica gazed at him over their sleeping child’s form. “How about you too let old grandma stay here and you go home and get some rest,” his mother interjected. “Momma Pricilla, I couldn’t do that. You’ve been on a plane all day.” “It was a six and half hour flight. I slept most of the way. I’m fine,” his mother confirmed. “What if she wakes up?” Mark asked. Not wanting Alyssa to open her eyes to a room full of strangers. “I know a thing or two about sick children, Markie. I can handle it.” Undecided, he looked from his mother, to his daughter and lastly his gaze rested on his wife. “Are you sure you want to do this, Momma Pricilla. You and Mark need sometime to catch up.” “Poo, I talk to my son all the time. I came for my granddaughter.” Shaking his head, he said, “It’s a shame how easy I can be replaced.” His mother winked at him. Leaning down he kissed her on the cheek. “Are you su--” “If you ask me that one more time, Markie, I’ll turn you over my knee.” He stepped back, so his wife could hug his mother. “We’ll be back bright and early.” Veronica reassured his mother. “Take your time,” she waved them away. Sitting back, she pulled a book out of her purse. “I’ve been waiting to read this murder mystery, I’m all set.” “Would you like me to bring you something back to eat?” Mark asked pulling the door open for Veronica. “What I’d like is for you two to go on home.” Opening up her


novel, she pretended that he wasn’t there. Shaking his head, he grabbed her suitcase and headed down the hall with his wife. His mother didn’t realize she was sending him home to a sleepless night. Alone in a house with Veronica only steps away, would be misery.


Chapter Twenty-Six In the truck, the silence between her and Mark ate at her. At least four times she’d begun to start a conversation with him and stopped. She didn’t know how or where to begin with expressing her feelings. This was new ground for her. Mark had been quiet since they left the hospital. They had even arrived at the decision for her to ride with him with minimal conversation. They had left her car at the hospital, deciding to pick it up in the morning. Respecting his silence, she stared out the window and tried to get her words together for when they arrived home. When they pulled up in the driveway, Mark got out and opened her door. “Thank you.” She got out and unlocked the house as he pulled the suitcase from the back. They entered the house together. For a few minutes they stood in the living room as if neither of them knew what to do once they’d entered the house. Mark put his mother’s suitcase by the stairs. “Mark, I think you and I should talk. With your mother here we probably won’t have --” He cut her off. “Look, Veronica, as soon as my mother leaves Alyssa and I will be out of your hair. Just bear with us until then.” Her heart fell into her shoes. Evidently, Mark had been doing some thinking of his own. “So, how do you plan for us to act while Momma Pricilla is in town?” “The way we have being going along should be fine. Most of the time you’re gone before we get up and you’re back late. My mother won’t even have a chance to notice us together and see anything wrong.” He hooked his keys on the peg by the door. Folding her arms under her breast, she said, “So, you just going to pretend--” “No, Veronica, I don’t plan on lying to my mother.” Moving passed her, he went into the kitchen. “Sometime this week once she’s rested I’ll get my mom to help me find a place to live.” She followed him into the kitchen, watched him pull out items


for a sandwich. “So, where do you intend to sleep while she’s here?” Shaking his head, he finished slicing a tomato then turned and pinned her with his stare. “Don’t worry, Veronica, I have no intention of using my mother as an excuse into your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Adding the tomatoes to the turkey and cheese already on the wheat bread, he placed them on the sandwich grill. She allowed her gaze to roam the broad expansion of his back as it filled out his shirt. “I wasn’t accusing you of trying to get in my bed.” For the second time that night, she was in an argument with someone else she cared about. This was not how she’d anticipating this evening going. “Weren’t you, Veronica,” he accused. Chuckling to herself, she thought about all the times she fussed with him about calling her Roni. Now, every time he bit her name out, she felt insulted. “Let’s not do anything rash. We can talk about this after your mother leaves.” Leaning against the counter, Mark said, “I won’t make you promises, Veronica.” Rubbing her head, she didn’t know what else to say. “Could you please stop calling me that?” He looked at her as if she’d just sprouted another set of arms. “It’s your name, as you’ve reminded me on numerous occasions.” “You’ve never decided to listen to me in all these years.” She mustard up a small smile attempting to relieve some of the tension in the room. She didn’t miss his eyes lowering to her mouth. He blinked as if catching himself doing an old habit he was trying to break. He lifted them just as quickly. Facing the machine, he pulled the Panini sandwiches off the grill and placed them on a plate. Putting one at one end of the table and the other as far away as possible by another seat, he poured juice for them. He was always taking care of her. Seeing the food waiting for her she wasn’t hungry, but because of his thoughtfulness she sat and ate. Finishing half of the sandwich in silence, she asked herself again how she and Mark had arrived at this point. They were best friends who acted like strangers. Rising, she hazarded a glance at Mark. He kept his head


bowed, focusing all his attention on his food. Sighing, she scraped the remainder of her meal into the trash, placing her cup and plate in the sink. Leaving the kitchen she walked up the stairs feeling numb and detached. Her heart was breaking and she didn’t know what to do about it. Karen’s words haunted her as she entered her room. What is it that you want? She wanted Mark and Alyssa, but how to convey that to him was another story altogether. Standing in the bathroom she stared at the woman in the mirror and saw a woman she didn’t recognize. “My life is falling apart and I don’t know how to hold it together,” she spoke in a hollow voice. **** Mark dropped the remainder of his sandwich when Veronica walked out of the kitchen. The food had tasted like cardboard in his mouth. But he had to do something to keep himself from staring her. Setting his elbows on the table he placed his chin against his folded hands. He felt like he was sinking deep into a nightmare and couldn’t figure out how to awaken and get out. Loving Veronica had been apart of him as his own heart, now he didn’t know what to do with himself. His mind pulled up an image of his daughter. Yeah, his responsibility had shifted. It was time for him to concentrate on being a father, raising a beautiful little girl who held the sun in her smile. Getting up, he cleaned the kitchen then went upstairs to take a shower. With his mother at the hospital, he could sleep in the guest bedroom and not squeeze onto the couch. **** Getting out of the shower, Veronica dried herself off and prepared herself for bed. Sitting on the side of her bed she glanced around her room. There were so many memories of her and Mark here. She remember them bathing together in the shower. How he’d make her laugh in the middle of the night telling her about the antics of the kitchen staff. Glancing at the wall she saw the golden


couple Karen had given them. Mark had hung it directly across from their bed. Erotic inspiration he had joked. Resting her back against the high pillows she remembered how Mark had held her after the miscarriage. A lose she’d always considered hers. She recalled sitting in the car when he told her that she hadn’t been the only one to lose a child. She searched her mind and heart and wondered if she ever remembered asking Mark how he was doing. Coming up empty, all she could see was every way he’d protected her since college. He’d always been her fortress, where she ran to when she was hurt or scared. Now, he was going to walk out of her life and take her daughter with him. Yeah, Alyssa was her daughter. Laverne may have birthed her, but inadvertently she had been left to care for her with Mark. There had to be a way to stop this from happening. She had to convince him that she loved him and she wanted him to stay. The thought of her life without Mark, without her hero, made the air in the room seem thin. Her chest hurt as if someone were siphoning oxygen from her lungs. Hearing his movements down the hall, she searched her room for answers. Something in her closet reflected the light in her room and grabbed her attention. Getting up, she crossed the carpet and turned on her closet light. Mark’s police uniform from the auction hung alone. Most of his clothes had been relocated in the guest bedroom. Reaching out she stroked the uniform. She smiled to herself as she remembered how handsome he looked in the outfit. He held every woman in the room captivated, but he had captured her heart. She’d just refuse to believe it at that moment. Yes, that night had changed her life in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Pulling it against her face, she smelled the subtle scent of Mark’s cologne that it still held in the material. Her hand brushed against something cold and hard. When she discovered what it was, her thoughts begin to race and then an idea started to take root and form in her mind. Hearing Mark’s foot steps as he left the bathroom, she went to her door and opened it.


With a towel secured tightly around his waist, she called him before he reached his room. “Mark, can I speak with you?” With another towel, he dried his hair, “Give me a sec and I’ll be right there.” Nodding, she stepped back and waited. “What’s up?” He didn’t enter her room, just stood at the door in his pajama bottoms, with a curious look on his face. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us.” His lips opened as if he were about to say something, raising a hand, she said, “Please, I need to get this out.”Taking a deep breath, she began again, “I may be a little slow to realize this but I don’t want you and Alyssa to move out.” “Why?” His single word startled her. “I know I made a lot of mistakes trying to control the relationship. I was wrong.” “Control. That’s how this breaks down in your mind?” Stepping forward, he met her in the middle of the room. “You don’t understand this isn’t about who’s in charge or who gets their way.” He threw his hands up in the air. “I love you, Veronica. Can you understand that?” She was stunned at his revelation. “I have loved you since you walked over to my table at the library and asked if I had an extra piece of lead for your mechanical pencil.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” All she could think about was how hurt he must have been when she used him as a sounding board during her relationship with Jackson. “Because you didn’t want to hear it, Roni.” He paced like a caged tiger before her. “You couldn’t ever see it. My feelings were plain to everyone else but you. But you know what? It was worth you not knowing as long as I could still have you in my life.” In a soft voice, she said, “No matter what you felt for me in college, you still managed to fall in love with Laverne. The woman who’s face you see every time you look at Alyssa.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You truly don’t get it do you?” He ran his hands roughly through his hair.


“Laverne left me because of my love for you. I tried, Veronica, I really did try to love someone other than you. I knew my feelings were hopeless. But, I couldn’t do it. I tried to make her happy.” With his back to her, he couldn’t see the shock on her face as he continued; his words hollow. “One day Laverne came in the house. She walked into the kitchen and told me, she could no longer live as a replacement for you. That I had to leave before her love for me became hate. I had to respect her decision. I remember telling her to call me if she ever needed me for anything. She’d made the comment that I’d done enough for her.” She was astonished by his admission. Hearing his honesty about the level of his feelings immobilized her in the spot she stood in. Her silence drew him around to face her. “A little overwhelming isn’t it? When I looked at Alyssa’s birth certificate I realize that she knew she was pregnant when she told me to go.” “Had you all been trying?” “No. As far as I knew Laverne was on the pill.” “All these years I had thought Laverne had cheated on you. Left you for someone else.” He shook his head. “No, I’d been cheating from the beginning. In my heart. On our wedding night, I called out your name. I remember her crying. She forgave me and we moved on. I thought.” “I’m sorry, Mark.” She didn’t know what else to say. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve now had a chance to fulfill my dream. I should’ve kept you as a dream, but I couldn’t resist.” “I was wrong when I told you that we were a mistake,” she confessed. “How do you figure that?”


Chapter Twenty-Seven “I love you, Mark.” She moved closer to him, closing the space between them to two feet. “I believe I’ve always loved you.” He didn’t move, just assessed her. “As a friend, Veron--” Mark must have caught the look on her face when he began to use her name again and he stopped. “No, you’re wrong, Mark. It’s more than that.” “How much more?” He folded his arms over his bare chest. “The way a woman should love her husband.” He looked doubtful. “Karen asked me something earlier.” His eyebrow lifted. “She asked me why I haven’t dated anyone since the ‘Great Debate’ mistake in college. I couldn’t answer her. But, on the way home, I knew the answer. Every man I’ve always compared to you. Knowing and unknowingly. When we got married my attraction to you scared me. You were supposed to be my friend, but when you made love to me, I felt whole and complete.” “What do you want, sweetness? At every turn in the marriage you have bucked against every suggestion I’ve made from the beginning.” “I know.” She bowed her head ashamed of her behavior. “The day we got married I was upset because you had made plans I hadn’t “approved” of for after our wedding.” “I thought you were going to ask me to pull the car over so you could drive us straight home.” Staring at her, he confirmed what she already knew, “You always had to be in control, Roni. Making a plan for each day. Each move we made. Allowing someone else to take the lead is like draining your blood from you.” Closing the gap, she said, “I remember you asked me to trust you.” She pulled the handcuffs from behind her back. “I trust you, Mark.” **** Wide-eyed Mark gaped at the silver costume cuffs in her


hands, the key dangling from one of its links. His wife hadn’t only taken a step in giving him control. She’d taken a leap and landed firmly in one of his fantasies. “You don’t have to do this, sweetness.” He still hadn’t removed the handcuffs from her hand. Lifting his gaze to her face he searched her eyes. They were clear, wide and filled with confidence in him. “I know. But, I need to prove to you and me that I can do this. That I can put my life in someone else’s hands. Your hands.” Taking the cuffs from her, he tossed them on the bed. Reaching out he familiarized himself with the lines of her face again. Running his thumb over her full lips, he leaned in and kissed her. Connecting his mouth to hers, he drank in her sweet taste. For every time she’d been tentative in her kiss, she made up for it in that moment. Burying her hands in his hair, she held him to her as their kiss deepened. Sliding into her mouth, their tongues circled and stroked each other until he drew hers into his mouth. Lowering a hand, he brushed his thumb along her nipple, feeling its erect peak. Searching under her top, he soaked in the warmth of her skin as his hand traveled up, cupping her breast heavy with arousal. Pulling back from the kiss, he whispered against her lips, “Touch me. Undress me.” Lifting up on her toes, she kissed his lips again and then backed away from him. Moving to one side of the bed, she turned on the radio. The end of a rhythmic R and B song filled the room. Veronica executed a sensual stroll back across the room to him. Patient, he waited. By the time she stood before him again, he recognized the opening notes of Alicia Key’s Like You’ll Never See Me Again. Moving along with the music, Veronica laid her hand on his chest. Dragging her hands along his chest, she leaned forward and placed her lips along the side of his neck and licked him. He thought he’d die right then. During the times they’d made love, Veronica had given herself in passion, but restrained herself in touching him outside of


his shoulders and hair. His shoulders and chest received the same treatment. When she kissed him over his heart, he dug his hands in her locs, as his heart beat accelerated. Lowering her hands, she undid his drawstring to his pants and then pushed them to the floor. When she grasped his hard length in her hand heat raced down his spine. She squeezed and he groaned. Pulling her to him, he captured her mouth in a fierce kiss. Showing her how much he enjoyed the feel of her soft hands stroking him. Taking hold of her hand, he showed her how he liked to be touched. An astute pupil, she caught on quickly to his instructions and soon was rubbing and squeezing his throbbing member from base to tip. **** Veronica relaxed against Mark’s chest, with his thick shaft in her hand she gave herself over to his kiss. She enjoyed hearing her husband’s groans and the feel of his tremors as she caressed his thickness. By the time they broke apart, both their breathing was laborious. Stepping out of her grasp, he began to undress her. Pulling her top over her head, he cupped her bare breast and lifted them to his mouth. He lightly kissed the tips. Stretching up on her tip-toes, she silently begged him for more. “Not yet, sweetness.” Her sleeper shorts went next. Kneeling, Mark commanded her to widen her stance. She couldn’t help responding to the deep rumble of his voice. He had her trembling as his hands skated up her legs from her ankles to her thighs. One finger slipped along her aching heat. Staring down at him, she saw the pleasure light his eyes as he discovered the moist flow of her essence. Locking his gaze with hers, Mark continued to glide across her sensitive flesh until she started to pant with need. When he leaned forward and blew a cool breath against her


clitoris, her knees began to buckle. Ceasing his tantalizing assault, he stood and pulled her against him until her body calmed. Taking hold of her hand, he walked with her to the bed. Folding back the covers, he divested the bed of the mound of decorative pillows huddled at the top. Standing beside the bed, he brushed her locs back from her face. “Are you sure, sweetness?” “Yes, babe, I’m sure.” He smiled, hearing her nickname for him. Helping her onto the bed, he took a moment to lock and unlock the cuffs a couple times. Veronica was relieved to watch him reassure himself, he’d be able to get her out. Raising her arms above her head, she waited. The cold bite of one metal ring chilled her wrist as he closed it around her. Weaving it around an iron rod on their headboard he locked her other hand. Her skin became hot as his gaze trailed up and down her naked body. He joined her on the bed as the music moved on to He Loves Me by Jill Scott, a song Veronica felt was an ideal rendition of how she felt as his hands caressed her. Starting with her breast, he teased and tantalized her body. Suckling her nipples, he circled the sensitive tips until her back was arching off the bed. By the time he’d moved between her thighs and tasted her, she was pulling against her restraints, screaming out her release. **** When he settled between her legs, and guided himself to her opening. Her cries of passion were music to his ears. Groaning, Mark pressed his length further inside of her. He paused, four seconds and placed a kiss in the center of her forehead. “I love you, too.” Stunned he gazed down at her. “How’d you know?” He searched the depth of her stunning brown eyes. “I listened with my heart.” Fusing his mouth with hers, he kissed her and allowed his


body to express his love for her. Raising his arms above his head, he took hold of her hands, their fingers linking together and made love to her. Pressing deeper, he led them both towards the cliff of ecstasy. Refusing to be a bystander to their pleasure, Veronica wrapped her legs around his waist. Arching her hips, she met his thrust. The feel of her walls clinching his shaft, tightening around him like a fist, he was lost. After they both climaxed, Mark unlocked her, tossing the cuffs onto the floor. Rubbing her wrist, he ensured himself she wasn’t sore or bruised, Flipping them over, he reversed their positions. Veronica was a beautiful sight, as she rode him hard, her head thrown back as she freely took her pleasure. With her on top, it gave him the perfect advantage to satisfy his wife’s desires all over again. **** The next morning they showered, dressed and made their way to the hospital early. When he and Veronica walked into the room hand in hand, his mother gave him a knowing smile. “Perfect timing, Dr. Billings just left and said Shara could be discharged when you two arrive,” his mother informed them. She sat a chair with her wide eyed granddaughter in her arms. Alyssa reached for Veronica, saying, “Hi, Mama.” Crossing the room to Alyssa, Mark noticed Veronica’s steps faltered. Lifting, the little girl up from the bed, Veronica spoke, her words heavy with emotion, “Yes, Mama is here. Are you feeling better, sweetheart?” “Pannicakes, dada.” “We can take that as a yes.” Momma Pricilla said. Leaning over and kissing his daughter on the top of her head. “Where would the women in my life be without my cooking?” “Let’s not find out, because your mother is starving.” Veronica glanced around at the smiling faces as the room erupted with the harmonious sound of family.


Epilogue One year later, Veronica found herself at another hospital. For the first time in her life it was for a joyous occasion. Or so she tried to tell herself as the pain ripped through her belly. “You’re doing great,” Mark’s voice was calm and reassuring. Shaking her head, Veronica groaned, “I’m a fool, Mark. You’ve married a fool. I should have gone with the drugs.” Kissing the back of her hand, he gave her a small smile. “You’re doing an excellent job of bringing our child into the world.” Pulling her husband closer to her, she stared deep into his hazel eyes. “I don’t think I can finish this.” “It’s almost over, sweetness.” Mark encouraged her as he held her hand, his eyes filled with pride as he stared at her. “Just one more good push, Mrs. Latten,” the obstetrician instructed her. Feeling the pain in her back and the pressure between her legs, she wonder why she’d ever thought having a natural birth was a wise idea. “Here comes another contraction, Roni, you can do this.” Glancing over at the monitor he guided her. The scream tore from her mouth through her final pushes as their child came sliding into the world. Mark mopped the sweat from her brow as she relaxed onto the bed, relieved it was over. He gave her one of his trademark kisses in the center of her forehead. “I’m very proud of you, Mrs. Latten.” “You didn’t do so bad yourself. I thought you would’ve fainted at least once.” She gave him an exhausted smile and admired the man whose support was a constant reality in her life. “What is it, Mark?” “Congratulations, he’s a healthy baby boy.” The doctor answered first, handing her the whimpering, wrinkled messy bundle. “Wait ‘til your, sister sees you,” Mark told him as he checked the little fingers and toes. Three year old Alyssa, her adoptive daughter, was at home


with her grandmother Pricilla and Uncle Curtis and his family, they were all awaiting news on the baby’s arrival. “So, what do you want to name him? Recently I’ve become partial to the name Clark.” “I think that would make a great middle name.” Gazing at her, her husband said, “I was thinking Robert after your father.” No one understood the magnitude of sorrow over the people in her life that she had lost, as Mark did. “I love you.” Cupping her husband’s cheek she allowed her tears of delight to run down her face. “It’s perfect.” “Robert Clark Latten.” Mark stroked their son’s cheek with the back of his hand. Glancing down at the bundle, she said, “Well, young man, get used to being called Robbie.” The newest addition to the Latten family let out a wail of disapproval. Lifting their son, Mark told him, “Don’t worry son, you’ll get use to nicknames, just like your mother did.” Veronica smiled at her husband as he carried their son over to the pediatrician and nurse waiting on him. Allowing her heart to be filled with Mark’s love had changed her and not a day went by that she wanted their relationship to go back to how it was before.


Chef Mark Latten’s Food Challenge Menu Recipes Spicy Mexican Soup Artichoke Stuffed with Crawfish and Jambalaya Black-eyed Peas Cakes Green Risotto with Fava Beans Reuben Salad Lemon Sorbet Teriyaki Roasted Duck Apple Cheese Cake


Spicy Mexican Soup 2 cans diced tomatoes (garlic or basil) 2 clove garlic, sliced 1 large onion, chopped 1 cup corn ½ yellow bell pepper, chopped ½ red bell pepper, chopped ½ orange bell pepper, chopped 1 celery stalk, chopped 1 tsp cumin ¼ cup crushed red pepper 1 tsp granulated sugar 1 tbs oregano 1tbs cilantro 2 tbs salt In medium sauce pan combine all ingredients. Bring to hard boil, then reduce heat to simmer for 1 hour, stir occasionally.


Artichoke Stuffed with Crawfish and Jambalaya Crawfish 1 large onion 5 large cloves garlic, sliced 1 lemon, cut into wedges 1 orange, cut into wedges 2 stalks celery, chopped 2 tbs black pepper 2 tbs seasoning salt 1 tbs ground red pepper 2 hot peppers, chopped 5 lbs live crawfish, cleaned Combine all ingredients, excepted crawfish, into large pot (4 gallons). Fill pot ¾ full with water and allow mixture to come to a hard boil, boil for 20 mins. Add crawfish. When shells become bright red (appx 20 mins), drain and set to side. Jambalaya 2 tbs sesame seed oil 5 oz andouille sausages, sliced 1tbs Cajun seasoning ½ onion, diced ½ lb boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut ½ green bell pepper, diced 1 stalk celery, diced 2 cloves garlic, minced ½ can crushed tomatoes ½ tsp crushed red pepper ½ tsp ground black pepper 1 tsp salt 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce ½ tsp file powder ¾ cup rice, uncooked ¾ cup chicken broth


In large pot, heat 1 tsp sesame seed oil over medium heat. Divide Cajun seasoning between chicken and sausages. Brown sausages first in oil. When done, remove from pot. Pour remainder of sesame oil to pot add chicken and lightly brown, evenly. Remove chicken from pot. Add onions, bell pepper, celery and garlic, sauté. Stir in crushed tomatoes, Worchestershire sauce, file powder, red and black pepper, salt, hot pepper sauce. Replace chicken and sausages to pot, cook 10 mins, stir occasionally. Add rice and broth, bring to hard boil, then reduce heat to a simmer for 25 mins or until liquid is absorbed. Set aside. Artichoke 2 medium artichokes Water Lemon Rinse artichokes and cut stem and remove 1 inch from top. Clip the tip of each leaf. Brush with outside with lemon juice. Spread artichoke open and remove center choke, fuzzy center. Place in steam basket in medium (or large if making more artichokes) sauce pan with 1 inch of water. Cover and steam, 25 mins. Drain upside down on towel. Spoon Jambalya in center of artichoke and place one crawfish on top, then set other crawfish on plate around artichoke base.


Black-eyed Peas Cakes 1 small onion, diced Olive oil ¼ bacon, cooked and coarsely chopped ½ tbs salt ½ ground red pepper 1 tsp butter Hush puppy mix 3 cups black-eyed peas (left over is best) Heat 1 tbs olive oil in frying pan and saute onions. In bowl, combine sauted onions, bacon, beans, butter, salt, pepper and peas. Fold in hush puppy mix until mixture binds together. Place 1 tbs of mixture in palm and pat until flat. Pour 2 tbs olive oil into pan on medium heat, place patties in grease and rotate until both sides are crispy. Cool and enjoy. Patties can be topped with small spoonful of sour cream mixture (cream cheese, sour cream, chives and salt to taste).


Green Risotto with Fava Beans

4 cups chicken broth extra virgin olive oil 1-2 cloves fresh garlic, minced 1 small yellow onion, finely diced salt to taste 1 cup Arborio rice, do not rinse 1/2 cup mirin or white wine 1 cup fresh fava beans ½ cup grated parmesan cheese 1 ½ tbs butter 4-5 sprigs fresh parsley, finely minced, for garnished Place the broth in a saucepan over low heat and keep warm throughout the cooking. Place a small amount of oil in a deep skillet, with the garlic and onion, over medium heat. When the vegetables begin to sizzle, add a pinch of salt and sauté until the onions are translucent, about 2 minutes. Stir in rice and sauté until just coated with oil. Add wine and reduce heat to low. When the rice has absorbed the wine, begin adding warm broth, a little at a time, stirring the rice frequently, and only adding more broth as it is absorbed. The total cooking time should be 2530 minutes, yielding creamy rice that still has some firmness. While the rice is cooking, bring a pot of water to a boil. Place beans in water and cook the fava beans until tender, 7-10 minutes, strain and immediately plunge into cold water. Let cool for 2 minutes then pierce and squeeze them out of their skins. When the rice is just about ready, when you have added the last of the broth to the risotto, season to taste with salt and stir in the cooked fava beans, butter and cheese, allow mixture to cook in the risotto until butter and cheese are melted. Remove from heat, transfer to a serving platter and serve garnished with fresh parsley.



Reuben Salad ½ lb corn beef, shredded 2 cups sauerkraut 1 cup shredded Swiss cheese Parsley ½ loaf rye bread, cut into small square chunks Romaine lettuce Iceberg lettuce ½ cup olive oil 1 cup Thousand Island dressing Preheat oven on 375 degrees. Place rye bread chunks on baking sheet and drizzle with oil. Cook for 10-15mins, until toasted. Layer platter with full Romaine and Iceberg lettuce leaves. Add sauerkraut and then pile on the corn beef. Cover with cheese, parsley, Thousand Island dressing and rye croutons.


Lemon Sorbet 1 lemon peel, finely diced 1 cup water ½ cup granulated sugar ½ lemon juice ½ cup carbonated mineral water Lemon zest In a sauce pan, combine lemon peel, sugar and water. Bring to a hard boil, then simmer on medium heat for 5 minutes. Cool lemon syrup. In medium bowl, combine lemon syrup, lemon juice and mineral water. Pour into tall freezer safe canister for 1 ½ hours. Stir and refreeze. Continue each hour until mixture has been in freezer for 4 hours. Allow to remain in freezer overnight. Before serving, top with lemon zest.


Teriyaki Roasted Duck 1 whole Duck, thawed ½ cup melted butter 2 tsp salt 2 tsp paprika 1 tsp black pepper Teriyaki Sauce 1 tbs granulated sugar 2 tsp Mirin (Japanese sweet wine) ¼ cup soy sauce ½ cup Sake Mix all teriyaki ingredients in saucepan, stir until sugar is dissolved. Set to side. Preheat over to 375 degrees. Rub all butter, salt, paprika, and pepper on raw duck and then place in roaster. Bake for 1 hour. Fill poultry syringe with teriyaki and infuse in fat sections of the meat and cook for another hour. Slice and pour remainder of sauce over meat.


Apple Cheese Cake Apple Topping 3 medium apples, peeled, cored and chopped 1 tsp ground cinnamon ½ cup brown sugar, firmly packed 1 tsp ground nutmeg 1 tsp pure vanilla extracts ¼ cup water 2 tbs butter Combine all ingredients in sauce pan, simmer. Stir occasionally until apples become tender (translucent). Set aside. Crust Margarine ¼ cup melted butter 1 ½ cups Graham cracker crumbs 2 tbs brown sugar Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Mix all ingredients and press evenly around bottom and sides of spring loaded cake pan. Bake 10 mins. Remove from oven, turn down oven to 300 degrees. Then add filling. Cheesecake 3 pks cream cheese, softened 1 cup sugar ½ cup pie crust, baked and crumbled 3 eggs 1 ½ tablespoon sour cream ¼ tsp pure vanilla Preheat oven on 300 degrees. Whip cream cheese until fluffy (not too long). Add in all other ingredients until mixed well. Do not over beat. Fold in pie crust crumbles. Pour into pan. Place pan on baking sheet. Bake for 1 hour. Let cool 20 minutes. Place in


refrigerator 30 mins. Add apple topping, then serve. Best if refrigerated overnight.


Monique Lamont is a member of Chesapeake Romance Writers and Romance Vets. In her stories she loves taking the impossible and making it possible, sensual and believable in a story. She lover of all things romantic, she’s been an avid romance reader since sixteen. In 2003, she published her first book while living in Europe Merger for Life. Since then she has won the publisher’s award for her second book Double Take. She went on to publish Healing Hearts, Freedom’s Quest (Merlicious II Anthology), Passion’s Blood (Vegas Bites Back Anthology), Fire and Desire and Royal Pursuit (Vegas Bites: Three of a Kind) and Instructing Layla (Caliente Anthology) and there are many more to come. Originally from San Diego, CA, she’s currently living in South Caroline with her loving husband and two wonderful children. She loves to travel, dance, sing, read and write. She holds degrees in both education and counseling. She has always enjoyed working with people. Currently, she is pursing her M.A. in English, as well as a Graduate Certificate in Professional Writing. Visit Monique at her blog: http://moniquelamont.blogspot.com or myspace: http://www.myspace.com/moniquelamont She loves to hear from her readers: [email protected]

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