Without limits ssion and.., p.93
Without Limits: A BWWM Collection of Passion and Desire, page 93
It was a moment before my eyes got accustomed to the darkness. The interior was furnished like a typical nightclub—bar to one side of the room, dance floor at the other, and padded seats spread across the entire space
The club was far from crowded, which I didn’t mind. I couldn’t stand rubbing up against a multitude of people and shouting to be heard every time I spoke. I’d done the nightclub scene early in my twenties and got over it fast.
With his hand at the small of my back, Scott guided me to a seat where we had a view of the dance floor. Seconds after we sat, he pulled out his phone again. He squinted at it and then sucked his teeth—or so I thought. When he raised his head, I couldn’t tell if he was upset by looking at him.
“Sorry about that,” he said, bringing his head closer to mine. “D’you want something to drink?”
I shook my head. “Maybe later.”
We watched the dancers for a few minutes and then Scott touched my arm. “Are you ready for some action?”
The music switched to reggae and I let my smile break free. “Yes. Are you?”
We got up and hand-in-hand drifted to the circular dance area. I rocked to a Damian Marley song and to my surprise, Scott kept up with me. His movements were smooth and easy, the opposite of the jerky, out-of-time spasms I’d come to expect from many non-blacks I’d seen dancing to reggae music. We danced the entire segment and at the end, Scott moved in close and spoke next to my ear. “Well?”
I pulled back and bit my bottom lip to hold back my grin. “You’ll pass.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m out here moving like a Jamaican and all I get is a cool, “You’ll pass?” That’s just wrong girl child.”
That had me laughing. Where did he come up with these terms?
As if he heard my thoughts, he nodded and got close again. “Yeah, my friend taught me some stuff. You’d be surprised at what I know.”
I didn’t answer, and the music changed, segueing into love songs. Scott pulled me closer and stood with his chin resting at the side of my forehead. My arms went around him, and my eyes closed. We moved as if we’d been dancing together forever.
I inhaled his cologne, thinking that despite the impression he gave, Scott was well put together and smelled good. Tonight he was splashing something that reminded me of vanilla, leather, and musk.
He’d changed into a pair of dark jeans and a navy shirt. While he wouldn’t appeal to every woman, he was attractive to me. I was at a loss to explain why. Before him, I’d never been particularly drawn to anyone from his race. Sure, there were the movie star crushes, but that was the extent of my fascination.
Apart from being good-looking, Scott was attentive and funny. He was also considerate. There really wasn’t anything not to like. As I took a deep breath, I wondered why I was thinking this hard about him.
Sure, we’d be seeing each other again and I liked that idea. I liked it very much. Way too much for this to be just a casual encounter between two people who’d agreed they weren’t looking for anything that resembled a relationship.
Chapter Seven
My grin refused to go away as I typed a message to Scott. Yes, we got home safely. You?
Yep. Got here an hour after we left the hotel. Talk to you later. Just wanted to know you are okay.
Thanks
I dropped the phone on the center table and looked up when Angel asked, “Mommy, who are you texting?”
“A friend I met at the conference.”
“What’s her name?”
“His name. He’s a boy.”
She swung her head side to side. “Nope, he’s a man.”
I touched her cheek, laughing. “That’s right.”
“What’s his name?”
“Scott.”
“Scott what?”
“It’s not important.”
“Yes, it is. My teacher said we should always…”
“Sweetie,” I pinched her chin. “Remember not to talk with food in your mouth. Trust me, it really isn’t that important.”
My mother’s amused, but warning gaze told me that I sounded impatient. It made me pull back a little. I sweetened my words with a smile directed at Angel. “We can talk about it later.”
Her nod was enthusiastic, and I couldn’t help running my hand over her hair. I’d missed both her and Mom while I was away.
We sat in my mother’s kitchen, catching up over curried goat and white rice. The spicy goat was a far cry from the fare I’d had while in Miami. Mom had been heavy handed with the pepper and when I sniffed and then sipped water, she asked. “Will you be going straight back to the office on Monday?”
Nodding, I said, “Yeah, no rest for the wicked. Plus, Prim will be going off the island by the middle of the week, so you know how that goes.”
“Your boss should thank her lucky stars she has you,” Mom said, over a forkful of rice.
“She takes care of me, as you well know.”
“I’d like it better if you didn’t go away so much,” Angel said, with the back of her hands propped on the table.
“Me too, hon,” I said, stroking her hair again. “I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere for a while.”
“Yay!” Both hands shot in the air as she grinned.
“What did I tell you about—”
My mother shook her head and I stopped myself from correcting Angel. As Mom kept reminding me, Angel was only acting out of love for me.
“Can we go to the beach tomorrow?”
It was the last thing I wanted to do, but having been away from her for nearly a week, there was little I would deny Angel.
“In the afternoon,” I said, keeping my eyes trained on her.
She pushed out her chair and hurled herself at me. With her arms around my neck, she shouted in my ear. “Yay!”
Deafened, but grinning, I hugged Angel and kissed her forehead. She smelled of the buttery rice she’d been eating. From the sugary aroma clinging to her face, I guessed she’d taken a sip of fruit juice when we weren’t looking.
“Finish your dinner, baby, and don’t forget to wash up when you’re done.”
She gave me another huge grin before settling back into her chair and picking up her fork.
“So what did you do for fun?” Mom asked, “as if I don’t already know the answer to that. You probably spent the entire week in your room reading.”
“You’d be wrong,” I said, bobbing my eyebrows. “I did do a few things.”
My gaze shifted to Angel and when I looked back at Mom, she nodded. With one brow arched, she said, “I get the picture.”
It was a running joke between us. There was no such thing as speaking in code when Angel was around. She’d let us know in one sentence that she understood what we were trying not to say.
My baby glanced between Mom and me and went back to eating. Mom and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“I know you’re going to wait until I’m asleep before you talk about the juicy stuff.”
“Where on earth did you hear that term?” I asked.
Angel chewed and swallowed before saying, “Auntie Rita.”
“I should have known.”
Rita, my best friend, also had one daughter and didn’t believe in beating around the bush where kids were concerned. I’d spoken to her briefly when I got home, but we needed to catch up. I’d hinted that I met someone but it was on my usual terms. Until he got here, there was really nothing to talk about.
The thought of him made me want to smile but I swallowed the urge as Mom stared at me. She raised her brows and then frowned, as if curious to know what had me behaving this way. I wasn’t given to staring into space and wearing dreamy smiles. Nobody knew that better than her.
I smiled again and it carried a promise that we’d talk when the opportunity came.
The wind wasn’t heavy, but I had to raise my voice to get Mom and Angel’s attention where they crouched on the sand a few feet away. Mom got to her feet and slapped her hands together to rid them of sand, while Angel raced toward me. The three of us huddled together, smiling into the camera.
“Come on, guys,” I angled the phone to get a good shot. “Say, cheese!”
I took a couple of pictures and while I tried to choose the best one, Angel, poked her head between me and the phone. “Baby, I can’t see what I’m doing.”
“But I want to see it,” she said, with her bottom lip jutting.
“Don’t be a spoilsport.” I held the phone toward her. “Are we cute, or what?”
She cupped her hand around the screen, then bobbed her head and laughed. “Yes, we are.”
Satisfied, she went back to pouring water from a plastic bucket into the sand to make ‘cement’ for the castle she was building.
“My bones are too old for this,” Mom grumbled as she got to her feet, only to kneel next to Angel a couple feet away.
My gaze rested on them before I slid my shades back on and got ready to send the photo to Scott. With my lip caught between my teeth, I turned on the data, captioned the shot and sent it to him.
We’d been talking back and forth all morning and I promised to not only take pictures of the beach, but myself when I got there. Since I hadn’t bothered to tell him about my mother, nor Angel, I gnawed my lip as I waited for him to reply.
When there was no response after a minute, I picked up my Kindle. Leaning against an almond tree with the breeze caressing my face was a sure way to fall asleep. The beach was relatively empty for a Sunday, but it was early and I was certain that by midday, the sand would be buzzing with people. For that reason alone, I preferred to come early in the day.
The moment I took my eyes off Angel and swiped the screen of the Kindle, my phone pinged. I picked it up off the towel and thumbed the screen. Scott had responded.
Sorry, I went back to the job I was working on.
On a Sunday morning?
Yeah, we computer nerds never give it a rest.
Like they say, there’s no rest for the wicked.
Chuckling, I added a grinning emoji. The bobbing ellipses let me know he was typing. I glanced up at Mom and Angel again as I waited.
Your mom and your daughter? I see where you got your looks.
Yeah, people say we look alike. Until they see pics of me with my dad.
Your kid is cute too. What’s her name?
Angelica. Angel, for short.
Nice. You have to take me to the beach when I’m there.
Yeah, we need to talk about that next week.
You don’t drop a catch, Ms. Exec.
Nope. That’s why we’re the top studio on the island.
And you’re proud too
You bet! We do good work.
I’m sure
I sent him another laughing emoji, and he started typing again.
You’ve killed my mood for work. Here I am laboring over graphics and what not and you’re having a good time on the beach.
Poor baby. I’m adding that beach trip to the list of things you must do when you get here. Maybe even two visits.
I’m holding you to that
I keep my promises.
Def will see that you do. That week at the seminar put me way behind, so we’ll talk later, baby girl
I squinted at the screen. More specifically, at his term of endearment wondering where it came from. The tone of it was casual anyway, so I wouldn’t put more thought into it than necessary. All the same, there was the zing that came from being with and talking to him. I hadn’t experienced that in years and it was a refreshing change.
My mind wandered to my ex-husband, Nolan. My marriage wasn’t a disaster from the get-go, but Nolan and I were too different to make things work. He was forty to my twenty-five when we married and already set in his ways.
I’d looked up to him for his experience and perhaps because, in hindsight, I was looking for a father figure. My father died when I was eighteen and I’d missed him more than I cared to remember.
Over the years we were together, Nolan grew more controlling and I rebelled against being stifled. When he resorted to ultimatums which, in my view, would curtail my freedom even more I gave him one of my own. Either I went back to work or we’d separate. Since he wanted a homebody to care for his every need and I’d had enough, I took Angelica and returned to Jamaica and we’d done fine so far with my mother’s help.
Rita also stood by me when I first came back and needed to find a job. Thanks to her, I’d landed a position with a pharmaceutical company. The work paid the bills, but I didn’t see myself spending the rest of my working life collating orders for doctor’s offices, hospitals, and pharmacies.
When Primrose advertised the position in her start up, I’d leapt at the opportunity. On meeting, we liked each other and eventually worked well together. Being away from Angel when I traveled was the only hitch in an otherwise great position.
Having Scott training our animation team was an exciting venture. He was good at what he did and our guys would appreciate learning from him. I didn’t want to seem overeager to tie him down, but also wouldn’t let him get out of doing it while he was here.
On a personal level, it would be great to see him again. My lips curved as I remembered his scent and the feel of his hair as my fingers tangled in it when we kissed. Thick and yet silky. Eyes closed, I pulled in a deep breath and let the sensation of him dancing with me filter through my thoughts.
I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Chapter Eight
Scott
Something about Shevaughn disturbed me. That something was the fact that my head was still completely wrapped around her. I didn’t understand it, but since we parted ways in Miami, I couldn’t think about anything but her. She was on my mind all day, every day, it seemed, which was weird considering my situation.
That creamy skin, her soulful brown eyes, pouting lips, and the snappy conversation that kept me on my toes. Everything about her intrigued me. I wasn’t entertaining the thought that I liked her like that, but there it was.
Never far away from my thoughts was what Lucy had pulled. We'd been engaged for six months previously and then things went to hell six months ago, exactly a year after we decided to get married. Thankfully that mistake was now behind me, despite the announcement Diane made at the seminar.
I’d been lucky to get off with that disaster only costing me a ring, because if it was for Lucy alone, we would have already been married. I put her out of my mind before she soured my entire day. Now Vaughn was something else. She lifted my mood every time I thought about her.
We’d been talking every day for the last three weeks, outside of our negotiation to get me to work with her graphic artists. Shevaughn was determined, focused, and sharp, which came through in our dealings. She'd taken me at my word and ensured I gave her a discount off my regular fee. I was only too happy to do that for her because, somehow, she’d delved inside my head and settled in.
The payoff would be sweet, because she’d agreed to be my tour guide, which was a good way to stick with her without having to come up with excuses. I’d talked her into having lunch with me, after making sure I had a morning flight to the island. The job I was here for was scheduled to start tomorrow, so I had the afternoon to do whatever I wanted.
This was my first visit to Jamaica and the heat met me in a hot embrace outside the airport. I’d done the smart thing and kept my hair in a ponytail. The driver, hired by the company hosting me, picked me up promptly. After he took me to the townhouse where I was staying, I’d parked my suitcases in the bedroom, washed my face, and sent a message to Shevaughn to confirm that I’d meet her at the agreed restaurant.
A glance at my pocket watch confirmed I had fifteen minutes to get to a place called The Eatery. I gave the driver the directions Shevaughn supplied. He read my scrawl easily enough and looked at me in the rear view mirror. “I know where it is.”
“Good.” I nodded at him and then looked out the window. The streets were quiet, as I’d expect on a Sunday. The buildings were different from home. There were few high rises that had more than ten floors. The air also smelled different, with a tinge of the sea. I couldn’t help noticing a few homeless people walking aimlessly. I wondered how they managed the heat.
There wasn’t much else to see other than buildings and a few cars. The area we were in seemed to be a commercial center, and in a couple more minutes, the driver turned into a two-story plaza. Only a few shops were open and the restaurant was tucked away in the back on the ground floor of the building. The sign above the front door told me I was in the right place.
“Thanks,” I said to Charles, the driver.
“You’ll call when you’re ready, right?”
“Yeah.” I got out of the car, wondering if Shevaughn was already inside. Or Vaughn as I’d started calling her in my mind
My gaze swept the parking lot, but I didn’t see an aqua green Honda Stream, and a smile pulled at my lips. I wanted to be there before her, simply to watch her. Vaughn had presence. When she walked into a room, something shifted. Could be I was having flights of fancy, but it was something I picked up while we were in Miami. People noticed when she stepped into the room. That arresting quality had me here early, eager to be in her company.
I pushed the door open and walked into the restaurant. It was an upscale, but comfy setting. Deep burgundy booths, cream tables, a huge wooden bar, and paintings on the wall. At a glance, I knew the abstract paintings were good quality.
A young woman in black pants and a white shirt hovered near the entrance.
“Welcome. Can I help?”
“Yes, I’m meeting someone here, but she hasn’t arrived as yet.”
“No problem,” the waitress said. “You can be seated while you wait.”
My gaze slid to her name tag and back to her face. “Thanks, Carol. That’s cool.”
She beckoned for me to follow her and invited me to sit against a wall close to the back of the room. The place was next to empty, with only a few diners scattered around the room, but I supposed that would be the case on a Sunday afternoon.
