Single Mama Drama. Kayla Perrin
Читать онлайн книгу.
dark skin and that dazzling smile. My heart wanted him to stay exactly where he was.
“I hope you like the wine.”
“I couldn’t care less about the wine. It’s you I like.”
My heart fluttered at his bold statement. I glanced across the room at his friend, who now had a woman on each arm. “I see you’re here with Christian Blake.”
“I might be here with him, but I’m not like him, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’m a one-woman man.”
I couldn’t help laughing sardonically, a bitter memory of Lewis and his player ways popping into my head. “I’ve heard that before.”
“Yeah, but not from me.”
Damn the man, he sounded completely sincere. And to his credit, he was talking to me—not one of the groupies tailing Christian. Was it fair to compare him to Lewis? Probably not. Right from the beginning, I knew Lewis saw me as a plaything, and I didn’t care. It was my own fault that after six months of hot sex, I’d fallen in love with him.
Eli sipped his wine, eyeing me as I served merlot to another couple. It was clear he wasn’t going to leave my station. When the couple walked off, he said, “You gonna tell me your name?”
“Vanessa,” I stated. “And before you say anything else, I’m a single mother, raising my baby on my own.”
“That supposed to deter me?”
I shrugged.
“You can tell me all about the fool who let you go, over a drink later tonight.”
“I get out of here at eleven.” My easy answer surprised me. Then I realized that I’d made up my mind about getting to know Eli a little better. A drink was just a drink. I didn’t have to see him again if I didn’t want to.
We ended up heading to the Delano Hotel, a very chic and trendy South Beach spot. The lobby is beautiful, with two rows of white pillars down the center and interspersed white drapes that billow as the breeze flows through the hotel’s open front and back doors. We took a seat on one of the sofas on the large back terrace, also enclosed with drapes, and had a couple of drinks. We talked easily for an hour and a half.
Eli asked about my baby’s father, so I told him. I went on and on about Rayna’s deadbeat dad, Byron, and how I didn’t understand how a man could walk away from his children. Then I talked about Lewis and how he’d broken my heart because he was a player. When I realized I’d bitched for twenty minutes straight, I thought for sure that Eli would be ready to call it a night. But he wasn’t. I let him talk, and that was when I learned he used to play for the Atlanta Braves, which didn’t surprise me. Even if he hadn’t been with Christian Blake, I would have figured him for an athlete. He’d played nine years as an outfielder before a torn rotator cuff had put an end to his career. He said he’d been married before, and that it had ended badly, but didn’t offer more information. I didn’t ask.
We moved on to more neutral topics, like movies and music, and our favorite places to eat. It had been a perfectly enjoyable evening, and I really liked Eli, but a little voice in my head had told me I shouldn’t see him again. That I should remember my vow to concentrate on my career and put men on the back burner.
Only Eli started sending a dozen roses to my office every day when I didn’t return his calls. The attention had been as intoxicating as the roses’ sweet scent. Still, I was determined to stand my ground. I didn’t want to set myself up to get hurt again, as I’d been with Lewis.
With every flower delivery came a note that included Eli’s name and number, and the instruction to call him. I didn’t. But with the sixth bouquet of roses, the message had been different. It included his name and number as before, with the added note: “I won’t stop sending flowers until you call me back.”
So I caved and called him. Wouldn’t you?
I loved Eli’s sense of humor, the way he’d chased me. Lewis was used to women doing the chasing, and I think if he’d spent two days sending flowers with no response, he would have moved on. With Eli committing a solid week to his chase, I decided he was worthy of giving a chance.
Man, how he’d wooed me. Romantic dinners at Miami’s top restaurants, gifts of jewelry and adorable toys for Rayna…I’ve got to say, there wasn’t much to not like.
He won me over, and more importantly, won my daughter over. Who wouldn’t fall for a man who seemed absolutely perfect?
I’m not sure how long I lay curled up on the plush love seat in my office, but when there was a knock at my door, I didn’t move. When I heard it open, I turned my head and saw Trisha, Debbie’s assistant, peeking her head through the door.
“Hey, Vanessa,” she said.
“Hi,” I responded weakly.
She entered the room without waiting for an invitation. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said. “If there’s anything you need, please tell me.”
“Sure.”
Trisha paused at the door, and I expected her to leave, but she didn’t. After a moment she asked, “Do you want me to pick you up some lunch?”
“Lunch?” I asked, surprised. “It’s already noon?”
“It’s almost one, actually. We gave you some time, like you wanted, but we were starting to get worried about you.”
Sitting up, I glanced at my watch. Where had the time gone? I must have drifted off to sleep, after all.
“Whatever you want,” Trisha said. “My treat.”
“I’m not hungry,” I told her.
She stepped fully into my office and closed the door behind her. “I know what you’re going through. You remember my father died a couple months ago. You need to keep your strength up.”
“I’m really not hungry,” I reiterated, now getting to my feet. I wasn’t in the mood to hear that I’d have to keep my strength up, that I was about to deal with the hardest thing in my life. I already knew that. “I appreciate your concern, Trisha, but I’ll get myself something to eat when I’m ready.”
She nodded, then silently left the room.
I was still standing before my window, staring outside but seeing only a blur, when I heard the door open again. I didn’t know if Trisha said a word to anyone, or if they simply saw her coming from my office and decided that was their cue to enter. But person after person came in to check on me after that, in a steady stream, offering to get me food or whatever I needed, offering to lend me their shoulder to cry on, sharing stories of how they’d learned their lovers had cheated on them, but how they’d gotten over the heartache.
I swear, they drove me nuts with all their sympathy, to the point where I finally left the office to get food, just so I’d have some peace.
I made the short walk from my office to Bayside, where I wandered back and forth along the scenic walkways and perused the two levels of fashionable shops. I was trying to pretend I was a normal woman out for a normal, carefree stroll. When I passed the Hard Rock Café for the seventh time, I realized I couldn’t go on like this forever. I couldn’t wander around aimlessly like a tourist, pretending everything was right in my world.
Sooner or later, I had to face reality.
Eli was dead.
It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t called Carla back after I’d watched CNN. Now, I wanted to assure her that grief hadn’t caused me to jump out of my office window.
I dug my cell phone out of my purse, turned it on and punched in Carla’s home number. She answered on the first ring, exclaiming, “Vanessa!”
“Hey,” I said.
“Where are you? Every time I call your office, the phone goes straight to voice mail! I have been