Lavish Love: A Second Chance Romance (Blazin' Love Book 9) Page 2

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  "Part of me wonders if we should have asked more questions. You've never been open about your relationships, but when he left, you changed." Her lips are tense around the words. "I want you happy, Alex. Truly happy. Not trapped in the life of your mother's making."

  “My mother has nothing to do with it.”

  “Lying doesn’t change the truth.” Her quick retort surprises me.

  I step closer, forcing myself to remain calm. I avoid conversations about my parents for a reason. "I know you mean well, but…"

  “Call it mother’s intuition, advice from a person who loves you, or a gentle nudge from your boss. What if you walked into the new year embracing the amazing woman you are? All of you.”

  “Ready?”

  We face Ben over her shoulder. Emotions swirl into a sinking knot in my stomach. My unsettling thoughts concerning Mateo. The bomb dropped by Hunter. The phone call I agreed to make knowing the moment I hear his voice I'll remember all the reasons I love him and all the reasons I can't have him.

  “Have a good night?” I force a fake smile on my face and a chipper tone in my voice. “I’ll see you guys Monday.”

  “Alex…Alex…”

  I walk off, closing my office door, unable to breathe deep enough to chase away the sting of her words. All of me. What does that mean?

  Hunter doesn't understand. No one does. The duality inside me, one championed as Black Girl Magic and hashtagged as melanin. But the other always made to reflect a sense of wrongness and shunned by my parents and grandfather.

  I drop in my chair and flip the magazine face down.

  I deliberately take long draws of air in and out of my nose until my heartbeat is normal. The phone stares at me.

  "Mateo's an old friend," I whisper, dropping my head back, brushing my tongue over my dry lips. I know it's not true, but I'm embracing this "old friend" disillusionment like a life jacket because this call isn't for me but my team.

  I tuck my personal feelings into a tiny box in the dark corner of my mind and dial the number I still know by heart. The sooner I call him, the sooner I'll get it over with, and I can return to my life without Mateo Rodriquez.

  Chapter 2

  “Mateo!”

  I toss the damn magazine aside. Every step I make in my career puts my family in jeopardy. People read billionaire, and my parents and siblings become targets.

  “Mamá. ¿Por qué estás haciendo esto difícil?” Asking my mother why she’s making this difficult is like asking why the sun shines. That’s just the way it is.

  “Hijo estoy bien.”

  "It's not fine," I mumble through clenched teeth. This conversation is useless. I've tried to hire security guards, and I've threatened to move back home. Nothing works. She's stubborn as a mule.

  "Tell me about your lady friend." She transitions to English, and for the first time since calling her, I smile.

  “You’re still working with your tutor?”

  "Si…huh, yes."

  “And I don’t have a lady friend.”

  Her rapid Spanish flies through the line. I sit back, letting it rain over me. Her constant complaint about me being too focused on my career and how she'll never have grandchildren.

  “You don’t love me,” she declares. I can hear the pucker of her lips.

  “I love you more than anything and anyone in the world. But I’m too busy to date.”

  “Too busy for love? That’s so American of you. You’re never too busy for family. Careers don’t love you back.”

  “Come here for Christmas. We can celebrate as a family under one roof. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “How? You don’t cook.”

  "Don't worry about the food. I'll send a private flight for everyone. Please, Mamá.”

  “I’m scared to fly.”

  “I’ll fly there and fly back with you.” Her grunt fills the line. I let her think about it, holding my breath.

  “…tal vez.”

  Her hesitant maybe gives me hope. “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t say yes.”

  “But you didn’t say no. You are tougher than the most educated businessmen in the world.”

  Her laughter floats through the line, and my heart smiles. "You are the worst, always pushing to have your way."

  “No existe gran talento sin gran voluntad.” My parents told me these words as I boarded a flight to Texas on a full scholarship. There is no great talent without great will. And my determination is indestructible, especially when faced with protecting the ones I love.

  “You took our words and have exceeded our prayers. It brings peace to my soul.” She has a sense of joy in her voice.

  “Promise you’ll consider it. I worry.” I swallow back the plea nearing the tip of my tongue. I will get them here. Safe.

  “I’ll consider it. Now let me grab your father so you can tell us about this article.”

  My father jumps on the line, and we talk. Somehow, we go from the article to my press tour, to my mother telling me about her friends' grandchildren again despite us having the same conversation last week. My father heads back out to his garage, leaving us alone. And she questions my will, I'm clearly her son.

  I shake my head at my spitfire mom who stands inches over four feet, a giant in my eyes. I could remind her that my brother and sister are handlings the kid quota without my assistance. However, this will only drag the talk into her overarching justification that I'm the oldest, and I should have a wife by now.

  A wife, Gloria Rodriquez, refuses to acknowledge, which is my business. My mother claims the American culture has edged out the core of who I am and what I mean to this family as the eldest son. They sent me to America to succeed, and I have, except my parents, always planned for me to return. So, instead of interjecting and swapping one sore spot for another, I sit back and respond where appropriate.

  Susan, my assistant, steps inside my office. She mocks, bringing a receiver to her ear.

  Who is it? I mouth.

  Alexandria, on line two, she responds. I stare at the flashing white light.

  “Mom, I have an important call to take. I’ll call you tonight with the flight details.”

  “Your father and I will discuss it.”

  “Te amo, Mamá." We say our goodbyes, and I press two. "Alexandria.”

  I exhale, not recognizing my voice or the erratic cadence of my heart. The shift from concern about my parents to her on the line gives my spirit whiplash.

  "Hey, …I…God…it feels good to hear your voice." Her soothing tone sounds different yet familiar.

  "How long has it been?" I ask to hear her talk again, and I'm rewarded with her sultry laugh.

  "I will not say because it will age us both."

  “I’m sure you haven’t aged a year. How are you?”

  Alexandria exhales a shaky breath matching my own. “I’m good. It’s the holiday season. Between business and shopping for my nieces and nephews, I have a full plate. What about you?”

  The smile in her voice sends a fresh wave of awareness through my body. We were once something special, but timing and circumstances were against us. That was over fifteen years ago. In my pursuit of success, I forgot to turn around, thankfully fate hasn’t dismissed the possibility of us.

  “I’d rather tell you in person.”

  Her soft gasp pulls me forward in my chair. “You’re here? In Austin?”

  "No, I'll be there in the morning. How about brunch? You select the place and time, and I'll be there." I have no plans of flying to Austin, but all I need is her agreement to meet with me. I open my calendar, scanning my jam-packed day. "Say yes, Alexandria."

  “Yes…but…this is a meeting between old friends, and I have business matters to discuss with you.”

  “Aye… Alexandria…building a wall already?” The man in me, aiming to win at everything I put my mind to, challenges her declaration.

  “It’s not a wall but boundaries,
Mateo Rodriquez.”

  “Boundaries? What are those?” My accent is thick because I remember how it always brought a sly grin and an eye roll from her. The proper beauty and her doting immigrant.

  “Which is exactly why we need to establish them before we see each other.”

  “Aye…mi querida.”

  “And none of that? Keep those sweet words to yourself.”

  "What?" I mock shock, and her laughter spills over. "Don't tell me you've lost your sense of adventure and fun."

  “I know how to have a good time like anyone else. But you Mateo have always been slicker than oil. I refuse to get caught up in your plans.”

  “That’s how you see me?” My gruff question hangs between us. I don’t expect her to respond to my bait. That would be too easy.

  “Have you changed?” She counters.

  “Hummmm…" I sit back, propping my feet up. The view of New York City from my desk is why I bought the building. The cars crawl through evening traffic, and a flickering Christmas tree in an office across the way captures my attention.

  "Do you still talk with your mother several times a day? Eat two eggs, dry toast, with fresh strawberries every morning but Sunday. Run five miles, Monday through Friday." She rattles off a list as if she's peering at my life in a crystal ball. The more she talks, the more my chest tightens.

  “Am I that predictable?” I type a quick message to Susan. Reschedule all appointments over the weekend and arrange a flight to Austin tonight.

  “It’s why you’re so successful. Speaking of success, congratulations. You always said you wanted to live an unforgettable life. It seems you’re living your dream.”

  "Success is a double-edged sword, and dreams are fleeting." I watch the snow falling. The ceiling to floor windows makes me feel less alone when my days and nights are long. I watch the sunrise and set. I marvel as the seasons change in vivid colors unique to New York.

  I never complain. Because no matter how many days and nights I sit behind my computer relentless in my pursuit of expanding my business, it’s better than the life of poverty I left behind in Santo Domingo. However, on the heels of my talk with my mother, and now Alexandria, I wonder if life is passing me by.

  “Billionaire problems?”

  "Aye, what about you? I saw Harper, and she told me about your business. You didn't join your family's company?"

  “I did for a while after graduating. Then we started Platinum Prestige.”

  “Still clawing for your independence, querida?”

  "No, I…I couldn't turn down the offer to work with my best friends. We'll celebrate our tenth anniversary time next year. Which is part of the reason for my call. I'd like to pick your brain about the advantages and disadvantages of entering the global market."

  “You waited fifteen years to pick my brain?”

  “Yes…no…well, maybe.” She sighs. “You called, and I read the article in the magazine. It makes sense to consult with an authority before embarking on this type of business shift."

  “Are you asking as a personal friend or a prospective client?”

  “Both and neither. I’m asking between Alexandria and Mateo. Fill in the blanks.”

  Fill in the blanks. I can fill in the blanks with all types of ideas. Several I’m sure she’d object to over the phone.

  The slight squeak of the door pulls my eyes in that direction. Susan enters with a yellow note. She drops it on my desk and slips out. The airplane is prepped for my departure. I lower my feet to the floor.

  “Let’s table the discussion until brunch. Tell me when and where.”

  “It’s Saturday. I usually work from home. We can have brunch at my place if you still prefer home-cooked meals or there’s Torsion. And Mateo, this is in the professional capacity.”

  She’s offering to cook for me in the professional capacity. I keep the thought to myself. "Right… Professional brunch at your place. You'll cook, and I'll bring the beverages." We talk for a few minutes while I shut down my computer. We exchange cellphone numbers, and I promise to text her when I land. Once I drop my wallet in my pocket, I ask, "Do you require anything else mi querida?”

  “No, just you.”

  My eyes blur with desire, and the familiar heat of anticipation burns through me. Those three words are etched in every passionate memory with her.

  “I didn’t mean to…you asked and… Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  "Is this more of your boundaries talk, Alexandria?" The woman I remember was passionate in bed and out. I wonder if she still lurks behind these boundaries.

  "No, I don't want to give you the wrong impression, and I'm seeing someone."

  “Seeing someone?” I lower back into my chair. “What’s his name? How long have you been seeing him?”

  “Huh…”

  “Would he approve of you cooking and sharing a private meal with another man? Someone you lived with. Someone you once loved.”

  “I…he…we—”

  “If…you were my woman—”

  "But, I'm not." Her voice cuts through our rapid exchange.

  I can't contain my laughter. "Fine. He's invited to join us if this man exists. I'll speak to you when I land. Adiós.”

  I disconnect the call the moment I hear her tight goodbye. She’s always lingered in the depths of my mind, but I never thought of her moving on, getting married, having children. My face drops to my hands.

  What if I’m too late?

  Too late for a second chance with Alexandria? Too late to protect my family from the scum trying to weasel money out of me.

  Frustration swells inside me until it erupts in a wave. I let it flow until my lungs collapse flat near defeat.

  I lift my head, and my gaze settles on a tiny snowflake taking a whimsical journey through the air, landing on the glass. In a few hours, the entire city will be covered, transformed from a concrete jungle to a winter wonderland. My life is like the snowflake, slow and steady until I accomplish my goals. All I need is a plan to transform this situation in my favor. That thought freezes in my brain.

  What if Alexandria can help me get my parents here? I would need more than an airplane and a reason for them to come here for Christmas. A reason that will give me time to neutralize any threats in Santo Domingo.

  Alexandria, …and my parents.

  What will bring them to the US without question? I drum my fingers on the desk.

  "Weddings, babies, and funerals," I whisper, trying to corral my options.

  "You'll figure it out. But for now, the car is waiting downstairs." Surprised, my head jerks to the doorway, and Susan's in the hallway buttoning up her black heavy winter coat. The sparkle of a diamond stops me.

  "Congratulations." I walk over, turning off the light.

  She wiggles her hand, making the ring dance under the lights. "I planned to tell you. Apparently, my constant snooping ruined Jerrick's surprise."

  “See, you thought he was cheating.” I chuckle. We walk through the office, the last ones leaving for the weekend.

  “I was wrong. He was planning a surprise engagement party. Wait…you knew, didn’t you?”

  “I bet that’ll teach you to stop looking for issues where there are none.” I shrug into my jacket. I introduced them a few years back at a holiday party.

  “You could have hinted or something.”

  "I'm not meddling in your relationship. Jerrick is a good guy, and he loves you."

  "Yeah, but after being burned a million times, can you blame me. Fractured hearts have to be handled with care." She shakes her head, waiting as I lock the office doors." So, instead of a surprise engagement party, we're having a Christmas party since he invited all of our family members. He has the venue, people flying in…"

  Her words are muffled, and her mouth moves as the answer drops in my head, kindling a new wave of optimism. I’ll propose to Alexandria.

  It's a long shot. But risk comes with my life. We step inside the elevator, and Susan stares at me as
if waiting for my response.

  "You'll be there, won't you?" She pushes the button for the ground level. The doors close, and the next steps pop up like instant messages.

  “I’ll be there with bells on because Jerrick will need my support. I’ve met your family.” We laugh as I slide on my gloves. I need a ring and a compelling reason. I could tell Alexandria about the threats. Hum… That will only scare her off. I'll keep it simple. She knows about my desire to bring my parents here and the house. “Can you make a few calls on your way out?”

  “I don’t appreciate you taking shots at my family.”

  "He is my friend, and in times like this, male solidarity is vital." She rolls her eyes pulling out her cellphone. "I need the house prepared for my family's arrival. We have the basic furnishings, but I need you to schedule the interior designer to add personal touches. I want a Christmas tree and lights, the works. And call my jeweler, I need an engagement ring."

  The doors open. I step out into the lobby and realize she’s not beside me. I glance back at her with a slack jaw, shocked quiet.

  “The car is waiting.” I remind her.

  “What are you about to do?”

  I tug at the cuffs of my jacket with a smile on my face. “Propose to my ex-girlfriend.”

  Chapter 3

  "Oh, no, no, no…" The screaming smoke detector snaps me back to the real world.

  I jump up from my paper-covered dining room table running past the agitated device. The dark smoke rising from the oven is the issue.

  "Great, Alex, you burnt the biscuits." I yank open the oven, fanning a towel to clear the space in front of my face. The biscuits are not golden brown but charcoal black. I grab an oven mitt, maybe I'll have time to start another batch. Pain shoots through my arm the moment I brush the side of the hot oven. "What is wrong with me?"

  I run to the sink and run cold water over the throbbing welt on my arm. I examine my forearm, and it's red, but I'll live. I turn off the water examining the mess I've made.

  I never burn food. Never. It’s one of the few hobbies I have time for with constant traveling and work. But I couldn’t sleep last night and decided to make homemade biscuits instead of the canned ones.