Cherry lane, p.24
Cherry Lane, page 24
“What if she is and it’s Emerson’s kid and she’s trying to pass it off on her fiancé?”
“She wouldn’t be the first woman and definitely not the last. Have your men check out her fiancé, find out who he is and when and where they met.”
“Okay, boss.”
Frowning, Chuck patted his paunch. It was time to go under the knife again. The next procedure would be a tummy tuck. “Nice work, Jake.”
“Thanks, boss. I’ll let you know what we find.”
He ended the call, leaving the phone on the vanity. Jake’s call had come at the right time. Congress had reconvened after the Easter recess, Guilford had resigned, and the governor had announced his intent to appoint Gregory Emerson to replace the ailing congressman. And if it turned out his ex-girlfriend was pregnant, then Jake’s people would take care of all the loose ends that would prevent Emerson from winning the seat on his own.
Chuck returned to the bedroom, encountering Heather’s light snores. Getting into bed, he pressed his chest to his wife’s back and kissed her shoulder. Life was good and was about to get even better once Emerson was sworn in as a member of Congress, because he was to become his latest protégé.
Chapter Twenty-Five
David spotted Devon before she saw him; the terminal was crowded with people waiting to claim their luggage from the conveyors, while friends and family members milled around waiting to greet arriving passengers. He couldn’t pull his gaze away from the profusion of black curls framing her face and falling to her shoulders as she looked for him.
Raising a hand to get her attention, he wove his way through the throng. Wrapping an arm around her waist over the raincoat, he steered her to a less crowded area, lowered his head, and kissed her passionately.
“Welcome home, Mama.”
Devon buried her face against his throat. “It’s good to be back.”
He inhaled the familiar scent of her shampoo. He’d admitted that he missed her, but those were just words. Whenever they spent time apart David felt as if he’d lost a little bit of himself. He’d stopped asking himself why Devon, why had he fallen in love with her so quickly, and why had he wanted to share their lives and looked forward to sharing a future with her and the child or children he hoped they would have?
“Do you have any other bags?”
“No. I packed just about everything and sent it down with the movers.”
David took her carry-on and tote, holding them in one hand while his free arm went around her waist. “Speaking of movers, they delivered your stuff this morning. I checked the number of boxes with the packing list and everything matched.”
“Did you see something that looked like a large painting?”
“Yes. Why?”
“My former neighbor gave me one of his paintings as a parting gift. His paintings hang in MoMA and the Guggenheim. Private collectors spend millions whenever he has an exhibit. I need to get it appraised before adding it to our homeowners’ policy.”
David whistled softly. “You believe it’s that valuable?”
“I know it’s valuable.”
“Do you plan to hang it or keep it in storage?” he asked.
“I want to hang it in our home office.”
“If that’s the case, then we’re going to have to install a security system, otherwise the insurance company won’t insure it.” He steered Devon to an exit. “I’m parked in the lot across the street.”
Devon held back. “Please wait. I need to take off my raincoat. I have on too many clothes.”
He watched her slip out of the coat to reveal the roundness of her belly under a body-hugging long-sleeved tee. She looked pregnant. “Do you want to eat something before we get home?”
“No thanks. I ate a full meal before boarding in New York.”
“I’ll fix you something light before you go to sleep.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said, smiling.
They left the terminal and walked out into the warm humid air, David reaching for her hand and leading her across the street to the parking lot. She was home and she was safe. Not once since he dropped her off to board her flight to New York was Francine’s warning of the danger surrounding Devon far from his thoughts. Now that he didn’t have to go into an office it would be a lot easier for him to protect her.
The sound of music and David singing at the top of his lungs to Lenny Kravitz’s “Are You Gonna Go My Way” greeted Devon when she stood at the entrance to the kitchen early Saturday morning. David continued to surprise her. She crossed her arms under her breasts and watched him gyrating to the driving bass line guitar beat. So, she mused, the buttoned-up attorney could really cut loose. He wore a white tee, jeans, and running shoes. He hadn’t bothered to shave because he planned to have a professional shave later on at the Beauty Box.
The song ended and she applauded softly, capturing his attention. It was apparent he hadn’t known she was watching his performance. “I wish I had my phone because I would’ve videoed you,” she said with a wide grin.
David didn’t appear the least bit embarrassed that she’d seen his rocker side as he executed a graceful bow. “You should see me do James Brown.”
“Really!”
David, going to his knees, sang, “Please, please, please,” in a perfect imitation of the late, great soul singer.
Throwing back her head, Devon laughed so hard she could hardly catch her breath. “You’re going to have to let me take a video,” she said once she recovered from laughing.
David beckoned her closer, as the Four Tops’ Motown favorite “Baby I Need Your Loving” started playing. “This song is one of my all-time favorites. Come and dance with me.”
She walked into his outstretched arms and he spun her around and around in an intricate dance step. Devon marveled at how well their bodies fit together, even with her belly. He sang, danced, and cooked, and she wondered if there was anything he couldn’t do well.
“Have you completed the playlist for the DJ?” she asked David, while following his strong lead. They’d debated whether to have music during their reception, and in the end decided music spanning several generations would appeal to their guests.
“Yes. I worked on it while you were in New York. I know Aunt Corrine likes Etta James and Nat King Cole and my parents are Motown junkies. I selected a few doo-wops for myself, and hip-hop and club tunes for Red and Morgan. I’m not sure what Nate likes, but I know Jeff is partial to R and B. You’re going to have to let me know what you want, then I’ll let you see the playlist once I’m finished.”
Devon nodded, resting her head on his shoulder.
David pulled her closer. “We’re going to have to select a song for our first dance as husband and wife.”
“How about ‘Sexual Healing’?” she teased.
David cut his eyes at her. “I don’t think that would go over well with the older folks.”
Devon searched her memory for songs that had stayed with her long after they no longer had radio play. “I love ‘Remarkable’ by Jaheim.”
“I don’t remember that one,” he admitted.
“You can listen to it on YouTube. What about Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway’s ‘The Closer I Get to You’?” The classic duet was also one of her favorite songs.
“That’s a definite possibility. I thought you would’ve wanted Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You.’”
“Have you ever really listened to the lyrics?” she asked. “Way too sad for a wedding with all that talk of her leaving.”
David stopped mid-step, picking her up around the waist until her head was level with his. “You’re stuck with me because I don’t plan to leave you either. And it doesn’t matter if we can’t agree on everything.”
Like not having chickens, she thought.
“Please, don’t even open your mouth to mention chickens.”
Her expression mirrored shock. How did he know she was thinking about chickens? Was he, like Francine, also psychic? “What makes you think I was thinking about them?”
“You get this funny little look on your face when you’re thinking about something and I just figured you were going to bring them up again.”
“So you think you know me that well to read my mind?”
David set her on her feet, but didn’t release her. “No, Dee. In fact I don’t know enough about you. But I think that’s going to be the exciting part of our marriage. Getting to know you, because when couples date they tend to show each other their best side and once married some of the niceties slip away because she may feel that she’s got him or he believes he has her. When I saw you standing outside Red’s house the first thing that popped into my head was how beautiful you are. Then when I got a chance to sit and talk to you I realized it wasn’t just your face and body that attracted me to you but also your confidence. I told myself this woman really has her stuff together and if I want to ask her out then I have to step up my game.”
Devon closed her eyes for several seconds. “I really didn’t have what you refer to as my stuff together.”
“I beg to differ with you,” David retorted. “The fact that you challenged the very traditions you were raised to uphold took a lot of courage. Your brother used his own methods of rebelling, but in the end it led to drugs and eventually imprisonment. You may have had your grandmother to help you, and he had you but chose another path. I know you love your brother and I told you before that when it comes time for him to be paroled, he’s more than welcome to live with us until he gets his life back on track, and I’ll do whatever I can to help him.”
A deep feeling of peace swept over Devon as she clung to the man who had unknowingly become her emotional lifeline. She’d stopped questioning why David had come into her life at a time when she needed him most while the love she felt for the incredible man holding her to his heart was something she wasn’t able to put into words.
“I love you.” The three words were ripped from her heart.
David rubbed a hand over her back, and then released her. “I love you, too.” He expelled a breath. “I think it’s time we eat before we head over to the Cove to get ready for the Black and White Ball.”
“Do people still wear masks?”
“Yes. You’ll be given one once you arrive, which you’ll put on before you’re announced to the assembly. You’ll have to decide whether you want to be announced as Devon Gilmore or Devon Collins.”
“Collins.”
David gave her a direct stare. “Have you decided if you want to maintain your maiden name after we’re married?”
Devon was slightly taken aback by his question. “Why would you think I’d want to keep my maiden name?”
“A lot of professional women elect not to change their names once they marry.”
“If I’m family, then I’m going to be Devon Sullivan.”
He winked at her. “It sounds good.” David glanced at the clock on the microwave. “We have to leave around ten thirty so we don’t miss our appointment.”
She slipped off the stool and gathered plates and flatware to set the table in the breakfast nook. “I can’t believe I slept so late.”
“That’s because this house is filled with good karma.”
“How do you get good karma inside a house?”
David crossed his arms over the tee, which was molded to the contours of his firm upper body. “You get someone to bless your home before you move in.”
She gave him a look that told him she didn’t believe a word he’d said. “If you say so.” Devon wondered if it was another Gullah superstition—one of many she’d heard since coming to the Lowcountry. “And I have a bridge in Brooklyn I can sell you for a dollar,” she said under her breath.
“I heard that,” David called out.
“I meant for you to hear it.”
“You’re kinda sassy this morning, aren’t you?” he teased.
Devon scrunched up her nose. “And you like me sassy, don’t you?”
He patted her behind over a pair of stretch jeans. “Sassy and hot as a ghost chili.”
“Don’t play yourself, David Sullivan. You’d never be able to handle the heat of a ghost chili.”
He sobered quickly. “You’re right about that, because whenever we make love you’re so hot that after we’re finished I have to examine my—”
Moving quickly, Devon clamped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t say it!”
David forcibly pulled her hand away. “Are you blushing, baby?”
She lowered her eyes. “No.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Please feed me before I faint on you.”
He smiled, attractive lines fanning out around his dark eyes. “One of these days you won’t be able to use the baby as an excuse to overrule me.”
Devon flashed a sexy moue. “That said, I rest my case.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Devon entered the Beauty Box amid a babble of raised voices and stylists’ roller setting and blow-drying hair. David had dropped her off before driving around the crowded lot to find an empty spot. She glanced around the busy upscale salon and saw Mavis instructing a young woman how to cut an elderly woman’s hair.
“May I help you?”
Her attention swung back to the receptionist, who’d returned to the front desk after adjusting the temperature on a client’s hair dryer. She wore a black smock with Beauty Box embroidered in white over her heart. “My name is Devon Collins and I have an appointment with Francine for eleven.”
“Please have a seat and I’ll check in the back to see if Red’s here.”
Devon sank down into a black leather love seat as she waited, her gaze sweeping around the full-service unisex salon. The design and furnishings of the salon were similar to those of the upscale ones she’d frequented on Madison and Park Avenues, sans the inflated price list. The first thing she noticed was the absence of hair on the floor and minimal dialogue between stylist and client. She picked up a brochure outlining the services of the adjacent Butterfly Garden Day Spa, which offered the quintessential massages, facials, body scrubs, mani/pedis, and specialized massages for pregnant women.
Two women seated on matching chairs several feet from Devon were actively engaged in a conversation about the Cove’s first female mayor. One commented on attending Mayor Alice Parker’s first town hall meeting and being impressed at what she heard. Alice had informed those attending the meeting that she’d applied for Community Development funding to improve the downtown business district. She also wanted to expand the police department to include a full-time assistant sheriff and another part-time deputy to reduce the current twelve-hour shifts to eight.
“Mama, I told you she was going to be good for the Cove.”
Devon smiled when Mavis noticed her sitting there, rising as the salon owner closed the distance between them. A bright smile split the flawless dark face. “Hello, Miss Mavis.”
Mavis hugged Devon. “I didn’t know you were in the appointment book.”
Devon returned the embrace, pressing her cheek to Mavis’s. “I made the appointment last week for a haircut.”
Reaching for Devon’s hand, Mavis led her over to an empty chair. “Francine had to take her grandmother to Dr. Monroe because she woke up complaining about pains in her legs.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “She should be back soon. Please sit down. I’ll cut your hair while you wait, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Devon replied.
Picking up a cape, Mavis draped it over Devon’s shoulders. Francine’s mother took off the elastic band holding Devon’s hair in place and ran a wide-tooth comb through the raven curls falling over her shoulders. “It’s much too long.”
Mavis rubbed strands between her fingers. “You have a chemical in your hair.” It was a statement, not a question.
She nodded. “I usually get a texturizer twice a year to relax the curls.”
“You don’t need a texturizer,” Mavis said. “You and Francine have the same hair texture, and when she decides to wear her hair natural, she applies a leave-in lotion that will allow her hair to curl without frizzing.”
“I can’t use any chemicals in my hair now because I’m pregnant.”
Leaning closer, Mavis whispered, “Congratulations. And please tell David congrats, too. When I saw the two of you together, my first impression was that you make a beautiful couple.”
“Thank you.” It was apparent Mavis believed David had fathered her child. What picture, she mused, had she and David presented at Francine’s birthday dinner? It wasn’t as if they were all over each other like some couples. He’d served her, they’d talked quietly and laughed together, and he’d driven her back to Charleston.
“I was really surprised when we got an invitation to your wedding, and Frank said there’s going to be a boatload of disappointed honeys once they find out that David is no longer available.”
Mavis echoed what Morgan had said about David marrying her. “I guess you can say their loss is my gain,” Devon said jokingly.
She’d begun to accept the fact that being married to David wouldn’t be as scary or traumatic as she originally thought. Although she agonized about marrying a man she’d known for six weeks, she recalled a couple in law school who married a week after their initial meeting in a torts class and more than a decade later were still married.
“I’m going to let Brooke shampoo you, then I’m going to cut your hair wet before I blow you out,” Mavis said. “How much do you want me to cut off?”
“I want it about a couple of inches above my shoulders.”
Devon reclined in the chair in the shampoo area and closed her eyes when Brooke wet her hair and squeezed a glob of delicious-smelling shampoo over her head. Brooke’s fingers were magical as she massaged her scalp and temples, and within minutes she gave in to the hypnotic motion lulling her into a state of total relaxation.
Fifteen minutes later Devon sat in Mavis’s chair again, watching as she quickly and expertly cut several inches off her hair, layering it to frame her face and jawline. Out of the corner of her eye she saw David sitting in the reception area reading a magazine.
