Admission of Love (26 page)

Chloe’s gasp of shock mingled with Deshawn’s heavy sigh of regret.

“What are you talking about, Devon? You know damn well I don’t want Calvin.” Her voice was weary.

“Funny,” he spat. “I couldn’t tell that from his message. Look, go to New York and have a damn ball. I . . . don’t care anyway,”

What message,
she thought to herself, but she said, “I’ll do just that Devon.”

She turned, nearly knocking Deshawn over as she ran into the house, tears now freely streaming down her cheeks.

Deshawn shot his brother a resentful look. “You sure screwed that up big time.”

“Shut up Shawn,” he mumbled.

∞

Chloe slammed and locked the doors behind her. Tears welled up in her hazel eyes again, but she refused to let them fall. If Devon wanted to act like a donkey, then let him.

He had said something about a message from Calvin and she wanted to see just how much of this disastrous afternoon was Calvin’s fault. Just as she reached the table where the answering machine sat, Chloe heard the squeal of tires as Devon and Deshawn left. Obviously he was so disgusted with her that he wasn’t going to finish her patio and driveway.

“That’s professional,” she muttered nastily as she pushed the PLAYBACK button on the machine.

“Hey, this is Chloe. You know the routine.”

Beep.

Her anger soared after she listened to Calvin’s message.
That Calvin! Why can’t he leave me alone?

Okay, she had to admit that her ex-boyfriend did make it seem as though they were going to meet up in New York. But, Devon should have asked questions first before jumping to conclusions. It’s like Anika always said, when you assume you make an
ass
out of
u
not
me.

To think, he thought so little of her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go when she first set out to bring Devon into her life. He wasn’t supposed to be able to hurt her. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting in the middle of her living room floor numb with hurt, embarrassment and anger. Slowly the boundaries had begun to fade and she had missed it.

Bitter tears began to fall down her cheeks, and Chloe wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest as she rocked. Even in anger, she missed the tall, bronzed and brooding man. Even now she had to fight the urge to run to her SUV, drive to his home and explain about Calvin. She wanted to throw herself at his feet like a sniveling idiot and beg forgiveness for something she hadn’t even done.

She could not ... no, would not let that happen.

Chloe quickly unfolded her body and grabbed the cordless phone from the base. Within minutes her arrangements were made. Then she dialed Anika’s private line in her office.

"Anika Foxx."

“Girl, this is Chloe.”

“What’s up?”

“I’ll be arriving in New York late this evening.”

“Today,” Anika shrieked. “What does country boy have to say about the early departure?”

“He can go to hell.”

“Oh,” was all Anika said, immediately understanding. “You’ll be at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I’ll just catch a cab from the airport.” Chloe carried the phone with her out of the living room and into her bedroom, grabbing one of her suitcases out of the walk-in closet.

“I’ll drive over as soon as I leave work.”

“Uh, Anika, bring chocolates. Lots of ’em.”

“That bad?” Anika asked softly, her voice concerned.

Chloe remembered the scene with Devon in the yard. “Worse.”

Chapter Nineteen

Never had the environment around the Jamison household been so stilted. Usually the rambling three-story structure was filled with a comfortable silence, but now the quiet was tense.

Deshawn had filled Nana Lil in on Chloe and Devon’s argument a week ago. Both now blamed Devon for the fact that Chloe was gone, although neither came right out and said so. He knew how they felt nonetheless, especially since his grandmother had stopped speaking to him at all and shot him hard looks every chance she got. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

It wasn’t as though Devon was in a talkative mood anyway. He became even more withdrawn and spent most of his nights in his suite, especially when Nana Lil got the note Chloe left saying she had left for New York and would call her in a few days.

Devon just assumed that Chloe had run to her lover, anxious to be back in his arms, and he would admit to no one how deeply that thought hurt and angered him.

The Friday after Chloe left, word had already spread around town that she was gone, and speculation on why she left moved through the small community like a tornado. Devon didn’t miss the odd looks he received, or the whispered comments, anytime he went near the main street in town. In fact, one afternoon he stormed into the house after a particularly harried session with Cyrus, who tried to command him to go get his woman.

But she wasn’t his woman any longer. She was Calvin’s now.

Devon groaned in exasperation when his grandmother threw a now familiar nasty look at him before turning back to the afghan she was knitting. Bah, everyone blamed him! Chloe left to be with another man, yet this was
his
fault?

“Let ’em be mad,” he muttered as he stomped up the stairs and into his bedroom.

Right now, as he frequently did, he envisioned Chloe having a ball in the big city. A beautiful sparkle in that unique smile of hers directed at Wesley, winking mischievously at Denzel, pouting those full luscious lips at Tyson, being serenaded by Kenny Lattimore, or giving Calvin that lazy-eyed look she got when she was caught up in passion . . .

Devon punched violently at the air in an attempt to vent his anger as the images plagued him. He forced himself to stop thinking of her. For his sanity’s sake, he had to forget Chloe. She was in New York, reunited with her ex-boyfriend, with no thought of him or Holtsville on her mind.

“To hell with Chloe,” he muttered, reaching in his wallet to rip up the picture of her he had carried there. If only he could get her out of his blood, his dreams and his heart that easily.

∞

One week back in New York, among the same fast-paced bright lights and hustle-bustle she had fled from, had Chloe anxious to run back to the small-town charm of Holtsville. Luckily the press was not aware she was back in town and she just thanked God for small favors.

She looked out of the bay windows of her luxury apartment. New York was busy with activity at even seven in the morning. Everyone seemed to be racing, afraid to slow down or they might miss success or some other attainable goal. Sighing, she turned away from the windows to look around the same black and marble decor of her bedroom.

Funny, she had been away from the apartment for more than a year and did not feel a twinge of regret about it. She had been away from her house in Holtsville only one week and missed it so deeply that she actually felt pangs in her chest at the thought of it.

This was the most lived-in the apartment had ever looked. For the past five days she moped and lounged, in FUBU and thick socks, watching television, listening to music, gobbling up hordes of gourmet chocolate ice cream, and generally feeling sorry for herself with perpetual tears. Nearly every room looked like a disaster had hit and Chloe didn’t care that it did.

Anika thought she was losing her mind and came by nearly every night after work to check on her. They did say that one of the first signs of someone going crazy was a complete change in their cleaning habits. Maybe Devon had succeeded in driving her insane.

She winced at the thought of him. Not being with him, and knowing she never would, hurt Chloe far more than stumbling upon Calvin’s infidelity. Constantly she thought of him, wondered what he was doing, envisioned him spending his time dating beautiful southern women, and not caring that she had left. That last bit always sent her into a fit of tears, or into a fresh bucket of ice cream.

Plus she missed Nana Lil’s bluntness, Deshawn’s charm and Cyrus’s sweet nosy nature. She knew they missed her as much as she missed them, even if Devon didn’t.

Chloe looked over at the phone on the bedside table, peeking from beneath the navy blue sweatpants she had worn yesterday and carelessly thrown aside. She did promise Nana Lil in the note she left in their mailbox that she would call her. And she
could
check up on Devon, killing two birds with one stone.

Sighing, she walked over to the phone, flinging the sweatpants over her shoulder onto the dresser across the room behind her. Quickly, before she chickened out, Chloe dialed the Jamison residence in Holtsville, South Carolina.

The phone rang three times. “Hello.”

“How are you doing, Nana Lil?” she asked, forcing gaiety into her voice.

“Chloe?”

“Yes ma’am. How’ve you been?”

“Hi stranger! You know, I’m gonna get you for runnin’ off up that road and not coming to see me first.”

Chloe closed her eyes against a wave of homesickness that hit her at the warm, deep southern accent in Lil’s voice. “I’m sorry about that but things got a little hectic. How’s everybody doing?”

“Shawnie’s still sniffing around Poochie and Devon’s grouchy as a bear woke up early from hibernation.” Lil sighed. “You know, Chloe, just because you and Vonnie had a falling out didn’t mean you had to move back to New York.”

“That’s not the only reason I came to New York,” Chloe assured her. “I was nominated for an award and the ceremonies are next week, here in New York. That’s the original reason for my trip here; I just came a little earlier after our argument. At first I was only going to be here for two weeks and I told him this.”

Lil sighed in pleasure. “Congratulations sugar, and I hope you win. But why didn’t you just tell Devon that’s why you had to go back?”

The older woman’s voice was obviously confused, but Chloe shook her head, ready to voice her protest. “Nana Lil, when I first told Devon about my going to New York he didn’t care about why. Then the next day we argued over a message an ex-boyfriend left on my answering machine. A message that he overheard and misunderstood.”

“Calvin?”

“Yes.”

“Baby, it’s none of my business, but are you back with him?”

“No . . . heavens no, Nana Lil,” Chloe shrieked, slumping down onto the bed among the disheveled sheets and duvet. “I never told you, but I caught Calvin in the bed with . . . another woman. That’s why we’re not together.”

“Oh.”

“So you see I have no desire to reconcile with him, although he is quite persistent in his attempts to win me back.” Chloe rolled her eyes heavenward. “This is all his fault, but that still doesn’t excuse the contempt Devon showed me. He truly hurt me, Nana Lil.”

Lil clucked her tongue. “Deshawn told me about all that, but Devon must’ve been awfully mad and jealous to act in such a way.”

“Maybe it’s all for the best anyway,” she said, her voice resigned.
A blessing in disguise.

“Chloe, you and Devon need to talk and—”

“Nana Lil, I’d rather not talk about it anymore.”

Lil heard the firm finality in Chloe’s tone and let any further arguments she had pass . . . for now. “Okay, but I hope you both know what you’re doing.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re not ever coming back? What about the house?” Her voice was worried and saddened.

“I’m coming back home, Nana Lil, even though it will be hard.”
I just don’t know if I can stand living in Holtsville and not being with Devon.

“Is the award show going to be on television?”

“Yes ma’am.” Chloe gave her the time and cable station the ceremony was being broadcast on. “You’re going to watch it?”

Lil laughed. “Of course. I want to see you win.”

“I might lose,” Chloe said seriously.

“Oh no baby, you’ll win,” she said with confidence that sent a surge of love for the older woman through Chloe.

“Thanks, Nana Lil.”

“Oh, and Chloe?”

“Ma’am?”

“I give you and Vonnie one week to get it together. After that I’m butting in.”

Chloe rubbed her fingertips over her eyes. “Nana Lil—”

“One week,” Lil stated firmly. “Give me your number so that I can call and check up on you.”

She recited the number. “I’ll call you sometime next week, Nana Lil, okay . . . alright ... I will . . . bye-bye.”

Chloe pushed the TALK button on the phone and flung it beside her on the bed amongst the jumbled linen. At least she wasn’t the only one miserable. So Devon was in a foul mood and moping around the house. Good!

Maybe now he was regretting his behavior. Or maybe he still believed she was in New York with Calvin.

Bzzz.

That was the intercom. She knew it was Anika since her friend was the only person who knew she was in town early. With a groan she pulled herself up off the bed and walked to the intercom system in the hallway. “Yes Mr. Harrison?”

“A Mr. Calvin Ingram to see you.”

Chloe saw a kaleidoscope of a hundred shades of red fill her line of vision. How dare he come to her home? How did he know she was in town? She knew that she should confront him once and for all and put a final end to his attempts at reconciliation, but she instead pushed the TALK button of the intercom system. “Mr. Harrison, do not allow him entrance and please inform him that I do not wish to see him.”

She pushed the LISTEN button, but Mr. Harrison’s end was quiet for a few seconds before he finally spoke. “Ms. Bolton, he has left as instructed, although he was not pleased to do so.”

“Thanks Mr. Harrison.”

Okay, so she wimped out. The only way to put an end to Calvin’s interruptions in her life was to set him straight and stop running from a confrontation with him. But she just wasn’t in the mood for it all. More important thoughts plagued her.

Chloe wasn’t surprised when her phone began to ring a few minutes later. Quite sure it was Calvin, she cut the ringers off of all her phones, moving quickly throughout the apartment until silence reigned once again in her home.

Devon and Calvin were so different. Never could she imagine the aloof and quietly arrogant Devon behaving in the relentlessly obsessive way Calvin was. But then Calvin
had
been in love with her, or at least claimed to be. Devon had made no such admissions.

Although Chloe told herself that she didn’t want to become absorbed in another man the way she had been about Calvin, when she reviewed her behavior the past week she knew she was very close to doing the same thing. She was near tears at every slow song she heard, moping around her unkempt house looking just as unkempt with constant thoughts of Devon. Hell, she even went and stood in her bathroom to watch herself cry in the vanity.

And that was just . . . pitiful!

Bzzz
.

Chloe groaned. If that was Calvin she
would
call the police and let them deal with him, since she lacked the courage to do so. She left the den where she had just settled onto the sofa to watch television. Another intercom pad was located directly by the front door.

“Yes.”

“It’s Ms. Foxx, Ms. Bolton.”

“Send her up, Mr. Harrison.”

Chloe left the front door slightly ajar and dragged herself back into the den. It wasn’t long before she heard the click of Anika’s heels on the marble floor after she closed the front door.

“Where are you in this oversized pig sty?” she called out.

“Den,” Chloe yelled back.

Anika appeared in the wide archway. Of course she looked fantastic, wearing a bronze leather blazer, a ribbed silk sweater and matching wool pants with dark mocha leather ankle boots and gold accessories. Her solid curvaceous frame carried the suit well.

“All right Chloe, enough is enough. Sitting around her moping and going to pot proves what?”

Chloe barely looked away from the sixty-inch television. “I’m not moping, nor am I going to pot. I’m just . . . relaxing.”

Anika swung her purse and leather portfolio onto the couch next to Chloe. “No, what you’re doing is pining away for a man that you refuse to even admit that you’re in love with.”

That got Chloe’s full attention, her expression one of total shock. “I am not in love with that arrogant, stubborn, pigheaded hick Devon Jamison,” she shrieked angrily, completely overreacting.

“Who are you trying to convince? Me?” Anika asked, waving a well-manicured hand at herself. “Or you?”

Just then a video show Chloe was watching played
“When Will I See You Smile Again?"
by Bell Bill Devoe. Seconds later she was bawling like a baby.