A Taste of Temptation (Love Spectrum Romance) (22 page)

CHAPTER 22

Tim sat at his computer, staring at the screen as it displayed Brandi’s and Dana’s papers. In one hand was his cell phone, in the other, another bottle of scotch. His intent was to drink the day and night away, but only after he called Monica to get her over to look at the mess she had made of their experience at Niagara University.

He punched in her number and waited for a response. The minute he heard her mellow voice, the madder he became. He hid it though, because he was on a mission. “Monica…Tim.”

“Hey, Tim. Weren’t you supposed to meet me at the house last night? What happened?”

“I had things to do at the house, but I did borrow a disc; hope that’s okay?”

“Sure. Is everything all right? You sound a little out of it.”

He looked at the bottle in his hand. “I’m fine, but I have a computer problem, and was wondering if you could come over and take a look at it. I can’t get into Windows XP, and you’re a whiz at these things.”

“Sure. You wanted to talk, anyway. Are you sure you’re okay, because I can bring something for lunch and we can talk.”

“I’ve got Chinese left over from the other night; we can have that. I really need you to look at this computer.”

“Give me twenty minutes.”

Tim left the door unlocked and waited for her. Twenty minutes later, Monica walked in, calling to him. They met at his computer room. She looked at the half-empty bottle of liquor dangling from his hand.

He held the bottle up. “Want some?”

“No…no, I don’t drink. You know that.” She eyed him. “You didn’t drink all that this early, did you?”

“Not yet.”

“Tim, what’s going on with you? You called me Friday wanting to talk and never showed. Does that bottle have anything to do with it?”

“No, this is actually helping.” He leaned against the wall. “Brandi and I aren’t together anymore.” He looked at her, hoping to see some sign of glee on her beautiful face. Nothing. She was just as calm as ever, an incredible actress
.
Her words were even more Oscar-worthy.

“I’m really sorry. When did this happen?”

“The other day.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“First things first.” He held open the door to the computer room. “I really need you to look at this.”

They entered the room; she took a seat and looked at the Windows XP display. “Okay, what’s wrong with it that you know of?”

He punched a key. “This!”

Brandi’s paper appeared on the screen. “Look familiar, Monica?”

“What…what are you talking about?”

“Christ! In case you can’t remember, which I doubt, this is the paper Brandi couldn’t present at the Niagara competition.”

“You had her paper on disc the entire time and didn’t give it to her?”

“No, but you had it.” He leaned over her, staring down at the most gorgeous dark hair he had ever seen; he couldn’t believe her exotic look belonged to a maniac. “Monica. I looked in your desk drawer as you told me to, and pulled out what I thought was a blank disc. It wasn’t marked, so I assumed it was usable. When I checked it on your computer, Brandi and Dana’s papers smacked me in the face, the same papers they couldn’t find, the same papers that they weren’t able to pull up on the computers there. What did you do to those computers there, Monica? Tampering with equipment that’s not yours could get you some real prison time.”

She stood, facing off with him. “What the hell are you talking about? I did nothing like that. I don’t know how those discs got into my desk. Maybe they got mixed with my other belongings.”

“No way, Monica; you’re so careful with your briefcase, you would never let anyone get near it.” He picked up the phone. “Now, either you tell me what you did, or you can tell the cops. Of the two, I’m the less intimidating; it’s your choice.”

She tried to move past him, but he shoved her back into the chair. “Don’t even try it, Monica. I may have had a few too many,” he held up the bottle, “but I can still overpower you. I know you took the discs, Monica. You even acted suspicious—nervous all the time, needing to know where I was every second of the day. I thought you were nervous about the presentations. I never thought…”

“Okay! You want to hear the damn reason, Tim? I didn’t want her to win, plain and simple. I wanted to add a little turmoil to her life.”

“Why? Why do you have it out for her?”

“The way you rant and rave over her—I was sick of it! All you talk about is Brandi. Brandi this, Brandi that.” She stood inches from him. “Are you that dense that you couldn’t tell that someone else may have wanted a shot at you?”

“You really are nuts.”

“You’re the one that’s nuts. How could you even look at someone like her? She’s black, Tim! What would someone with your looks and intelligence want with her?”

“This is so 17th-century Anglo-Saxon. I can’t believe it! Look at you; you’re not exactly ‘Miss White America.’ You were born in Hong Kong, for Pete’s sake. Where the hell do you get off…”

“What’s going on here?”

Both Tim and Monica turned to see Brandi standing in the doorway. Tim retrieved his bottle. “Perfect, just perfect; the other person I least wanted to see today!”

Brandi approached him. “Tim, I wanted to see you and try making up. I heard you two shouting and…”

“Really, you wanted to try and
make up
with me? Why? I’m a murderer, a liar, and probably an alcoholic by now. What would you want with a person like me?”

“Tim, please. I was on my way to Aunt Theresa’s house and felt the need to try once more.”

“Actually, Brandi, you are the last person I need to argue with.” His hand stretched out to Monica, as if he were introducing her. “What you see here, Brandi, is the main person who’s been wrecking my nerves today.”

“What wrong?”

“Lots. Remember your paper that you didn’t get to present at Niagara? Well, guess who had it?”

Brandi stared at Monica. “You took my paper?”

Monica grabbed her purse. “I’m leaving. I don’t care what you think, Tim. I didn’t take those discs, but you know why I would have, had I been that stupid. Besides, you have no real proof.”

“I have more than you know, Monica.”

She shot past Brandi, who stood there in disbelief as Monica left. “Tim, you’re just going to let her leave?”

“Yes. Why don’t you leave with her?” He picked up his cell phone to call Dean Moore at Madison to inform him of everything. Brandi walked off, crying.

This time, he didn’t care if she was hurting or not. He made the call, finished what was left of the scotch, and took another bottle from the liquor cabinet near his computer table. He walked into the living room to crash on the couch. Then he saw Brandi still there. “Why are you still here in my face, Brandi?”

“Because we need to talk.”

“Talk about what? How you dumped me? How you blamed me for having a brutal childhood? What the hell would I need to talk to you for?”

She walked closer to him. “You need to hear me out…”

He yelled, scaring her. “I don’t need to hear a damn thing!

Just leave.”

She had never heard him talk above a normal range, and it hit her that she had definitely blown it. Something in her still wanted to try again. So she reached for his arm, but he abruptly pulled away from her. “Tim, please listen to me. I know I hurt you.”

Ignoring her, he took his bottle and walked to the basement steps.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you; now leave me alone, Brandi. Get the hell out of here.”

She ran to the steps and grabbed his shirt as he staggered down the stairs. “Tim, I’ve got to explain everything to you.”

He jerked away from her, losing his footing. She grabbed at his clothing, trying to stop the fall, but he tumbled down, landing head first against the cement.

“TIM!!!”

Brandi waited on pins and needles for two hours for Tim to come out of surgery. He was wheeled back into his room hours later, and she sat with him the rest of the night. Sometime that night, Dr. Hammond came in to see about Tim. Brandi was asleep, her head resting on the bed. The doctor cleared her throat, and Brandi’s head popped up. She looked up at Dr. Hammond’s face. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dr. Hammond. You must be Brandi Miles.”

“Yes. He has mentioned you before.”

“You’re all he talks about.”

That made her feel awful, because she suspected that all he had to talk about lately was her ditching him. “I’m afraid he hasn’t had the best things to say about me lately.”

“On the contrary. He feels he did everything wrong, and has had nothing but good things to say about you.”

“I’m surprised.” She heard Tim’s labored breathing. “Dr. Hammond, what’s wrong with him? No one has told me anything really, except that he has some fractured bones.”

“He also has a concussion, and the hospital has to keep monitoring him because the injury is close to the brain. His medical doctor informed me that Tim was here and I wanted to check on him. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not. He needs people like you, someone who loves him. I love him, too, but I’m sure he won’t allow me to show him after what has happened between us.”

Dr. Hammond saw the terrified look on Brandi’s face and tried to console her. “Not to worry, Tim is strong. He will pull through this, and you two will be together. But that was a hell of a fall he took.”

“Before this happened, we had some problems, and I took off like a scared child instead of dealing with them.”

“It couldn’t have been easy hearing about his past life, especially after hearing about the incident in the facility he was in.”

“Knowing that another child died wasn’t easy to hear about, but it was an excuse that I used. I love him more than I can imagine loving anyone.”

“Tim is lucky to have you, because there’s no one else except for a brother and his mother, and he has no contact with them. I have counseled Tim for years now, and he has grown quite a bit, but his past still hurts him. Unfortunately, it is something I can’t erase for him.” She smoothed Tim’s bedding. “It’s late. You need to go home and rest. Tomorrow maybe you can bring some personal belongings, like a robe and slippers.”

“Sure.”

She entered Tim’s house. Any reminder of Tim’s fall down the stairs surely would make her sick. She also wanted to avoid the bedroom. She used to love it there; many a night she had laid on that bed in her lover’s arms as they talked about their future, their marriage, children…a life full of love, but now that all seemed to be gone. His bedroom was also the same room he had made wild love to her, finally making her feel what it was like to be a total woman.

But she had to go in to collect things he would need for his hospital stay. When she looked under the bed for his slippers, she noticed a picture on the floor. It was of an unborn baby—a fuzzy, hazy picture of an infant. She turned it over and read: “
Our first. Isn’t she beautiful? I love you, Tim…Charlotte.”

Then it dawned on her. “Of course, his baby; the baby they lost.” She tried to put it back in a box under the bed but it was stuffed with letters, all stamped,
Return to sender.
They were from Tim to Greg and had a Schenectady, NY, address. “Where the heck is Schenectady?” The postmarks on the letters were more recent than on the letter she had with the White Plains address on it. She just didn’t know where to begin. Operator assistance was of no help, because there wasn’t a Gregory Polaris listed anywhere. Her only choice was to drive to the address and hope she would make it there.

The next evening she stopped by the hospital, looked in on Tim resting, and kissed his lips. “Dream of me.” Then she left for Schenectady.

* * *

“You must be Destiny.”

The little girl looked at Brandi rather strangely. “Yes, and you are…?”

“I’m Brandi Miles, a friend of your Uncle Tim’s.” Destiny had Tim’s eyes. She was a lovely girl of twelve or thirteen, tall for her age, and had almost blue-black shoulder length hair.

Destiny continued. “You’re here about Uncle Tim?”

“Yes.”

“Good, is he here? I’ve never seen him.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s sick right now. Is your father home?”

“Sick? From what?”

“Please, I need to speak to your father. It’s very important.”

“He’s in the garage working on a Mercedes Benz. He’s a mechanic, you know.” She kept looking at Brandi, having never seen beauty like hers, let alone a beautiful black woman at their house. She kept questioning Brandi instead of going to get her father. “Are you Uncle Tim’s girlfriend?”

“I am.”

Obviously, Destiny had a very curious mind, but Brandi was becoming impatient with her questions. She had driven for hours and had coped with a flat tire, little money, and a lumpy bed in a fleabag hotel that had given her a terrible backache. The only thing she wanted to deal with now was the infamous Gregory Polaris. “Will you please get your father for me?”

“Sure. You can come with me, but he may be a little dirty.”

Brandi read the sign on the door as they approached the two-door garage: GM-certified mechanics on duty. Gregory Robert Polaris, owner; Chris Mayers, Asst.

Destiny pointed under the car. “He’s under there. Dad?”

A voice sounding much like Tim’s, asked, “What is it?”

“There’s a lady here to see you.”

“Bring her over here.”

Brandi turned to Destiny. “That’s okay. I’ll walk over.”

Greg’s voice echoed again. “You go inside and wait for your Uncle Chris. He’ll be here soon.”

Brandi watched her swish off. Taking her for a customer, Greg said he would be with her soon. “Just let me tighten this hose. What’s wrong with your car? You can leave the keys with me and my partner will take you wherever you need to go when he gets here.”

Brandi cleared her voice. “I’m not here about a car. I’m here about your brother, Timothy.”

He dropped his wrench and quickly slid from under the car. “You’re here about.…” Greg looked into her beautiful face, and then looked her up and down. Before him was what he thought a virtual goddess. She was a knockout from her shapely body, to her flawless café au lait skin. Realizing he was staring, he rose slowly walking toward her, and extending his hand. “I’m Gregory Polaris, and you are?”