Following Love (3 page)

Julian nodded, delighted that the electrical system had been checked out. Either Jordan or Darius would have been thorough. “And the supporting wall?”

Ellen shook her head. “Don't even get me started. I saw this perfect little patio sitting area on television a few weeks ago. So I thought I'd just build it onto the side of the house over there, with a walkway connecting to the grill area I built.” She pointed to the general area. “Anyway, I went down to the hardware store and lumberyard to put an order in and told Pete that I was thinking of knocking a hole in the side of the house. I also wanted to rent a backhoe and a large Dumpster. The next thing I know Reggie is at my door again. I declare if I didn't know any better I'd say that man has a serious crush on me.”

Julian smiled, trying not to chuckle. The possibility of Reggie having a crush on Ms. Ellen was completely plausible. Not surprising, most days his whole conversation centered on Ms. Ellen and her latest do-it-yourself projects. He even once stated that he might just marry her and save the state the cost of rebuilding the county once she got a project in her head. It wasn't long after that he and Pete got their heads together and decided that whenever Ellen placed an order, Reggie knew about it.

“Wouldn't you know it, the first thing he said was that I needed a professional. Can you believe that?”

“It might be a good idea, knocking down a supporting wall can be tricky even for a professional.”

“It didn't look that difficult when I saw it on television. They knocked a hole in the wall during the first commercial break. I figure three minutes, five tops.”

“I tell you what, I'll ask Darius to work up some ideas. Maybe together you can get the patio working to Reggie's satisfaction.”

She nodded, smiling. “Jordan said the same thing when he stopped by to look at my electrical system. Speaking of which, I need you to turn up my hot water pressure. I think your brother lowered it again.”

“Sure,” Julian said, and he finished the last of the lemonade and cookies.

“Go ahead in, you know where everything is,” she said, and she began walking toward the terrace garden he'd helped her put in for her prizewinning flowers.

Julian shook his head then rolled the wheelbarrow to the ramp attached to his truck. He secured the heavy load then went around to the back of the house. The grill area, aside from the solid back wall, was now spotless and, seeing Ellen heading toward the greenhouse with her small wheelbarrow, he headed inside to check out the water pressure setting.

It was just as he suspected. Jordan had turned it down to the standard pressure level and Mrs. Ellen had turned it up. He readjusted it again. A few minutes later he heard the second scream that afternoon.

Without thinking he ran upstairs just as Dena was running downstairs. They met midway, stopped, mouths dropped open and wordlessly both turned and headed in the opposite direction.

L
ate Friday afternoon Dena ran through her to do list a third time in her head. This was her first job interview in almost six years and everything needed to be perfect. Even starting out as temporary administrative assistant was something.

She still couldn't believe her aunt was able to get her the interview so quickly. The position wasn't even advertised in the newspapers. It had been listed privately because the company, Hamilton Development Corporation, was so well-known and highly selective.

Having clerked for Judge Hughes years ago, she knew most of the who's who in the area. The company was one of the largest black-owned construction companies in the state. They handled multimillion-dollar projects and were well-known for their sizable charitable donations.

Nervously she checked her list a fourth time.

Clear nail polish, unchipped, check. No runs in stockings, check. Soft-hued lipstick on and unsmudged, check. Breath mint dissolved, check. The list, one of many, composed mainly of superficial formalities, continued with another ten items. They were the things she could care less about but the new reality of her life had suddenly made her appearance a necessity.

She looked down at her left hand, devoid of jewelry; she focused on her ring finger. The band of gold had been missing for years yet she still felt the weight of its meaning pulling at her. She had failed at something else. But this wasn't the time to reminisce about her wayward life, this was a new beginning and she needed to make a good impression.

Her aunt was right; she needed a distraction and a job. This job would do fine. More than likely it would be mindless office work and that was easily something she could handle even in her scattered state of mind.

So, with her list all checking out satisfactory, she glanced at her watch and noted the time. She needed to get a move on if she wanted to be on time.

With the executive offices on the upper level she looked up as the escalator stairs continued upward. It was now or never. Okay, everything was set, she was ready. She stepped on, ready to begin a new chapter in her new life.

Smile and for heaven's sake be nice.

The words popped into her head like a jack-in-the-box.
Yes, yes of course,
she'd promised her aunt. She smiled. Then Dillon's tiny voice echoed,
For heaven's sake, be nice and smile.
Her smile broadened, instantly lighting her face like sunrise at midnight. The tickle of his voice always made her smile. She looked over at the down escalator then up at the three men just stepping on above.

She'd know him anywhere dressed in anything.

Julian Hamilton stood at the top of the escalator along with two other men. They joked and talked easily until his eyes shifted in her direction. Her heart lurched. No longer was he the shirtless handyman in the too tight jeans, instead he wore a professionally-tailored-to-fit-his-body business suit and carried a leather briefcase.

What a difference a day makes.

He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on her face. She returned his slight gesture as they met and passed each other side by side. Willing herself not to turn around, she stood firm and grasped the escalator railing tighter. There was no way she was going to turn around. No way. No, way. Way.

She turned around to see that he had turned around. He nodded silently again as the two men he was with caught sight of her with inquiring expressions. She quickly turned to face forward.

A nervous chill at seeing him again gripped her and had her misstep and nearly trip while coming off the escalator. She quickly gathered herself and calmed her nerves. She needed this job.

Following the signs, she walked down the short hallway and stood outside the offices. She took a deep breath and entered.

 

“Whoa, what was that vow,” Darius began then paused briefly. “I've had it with women. I'm through with love, never ever again.” He glanced at Julian and chuckled. “Now where did I hear that?” he added as he witnessed his younger brother turn around to nod at the woman on the escalator. “Oh, that's right, you were tired of all the games and all the drama. I remember now.”

“He can't even get out of the building without suffering whiplash,” Jordan added. “Have you ever seen anyone so determined to fall in love again?”

“Unbelievable,” Darius concluded. “And remember that word he used, now what was it again?” he asked of his brother Jordan as Julian's face began to burn.

“Celibacy,” Jordan answered, slowly and deliberately.

“That's right. How long ago was that?” Darius asked.

“I believe that it was just two weeks ago,” Jordan said.

“It was seven months ago, two weeks, three days and sixteen hours,” Julian said briskly.

“It can't be genetic. The rest of us are fine. Must be something he contracted in med school,” Darius added.

“My thoughts exactly,” Jordan confirmed. “But he's always had the tendency to fall in love at the drop of a hat. Remember his kindergarten crush on Kylie Grimes.”

“Yeah, he gave her his milk money for three months.” In unison they shook their heads, seemingly saddened by the comments.

“If the two of you are finished with the jokes and levity, I'd like to get back to our previous conversation, if you don't mind.”

“Oh, but we do mind,” Darius insisted. “I want to know what all this head-nodding is all about.”

“True that. You're not getting off that easily. Who is she, the hopeful Ms. Lucky number three?”

Julian looked at his brothers threateningly. “She's Ellen Peyton's niece. I was there yesterday tearing down the grill she put up, remember.”

“Yeah, I also remember that you asked for that particular assignment to relieve some of your pent-up anger. I guess the sledgehammer didn't do the trick.” Darius and Jordan looked at each other and smiled knowingly. Julian's playboy reputation had rivaled theirs and had even exceeded them at times.

“I know where you're going with this, and you're wrong. I almost hit her with the sledgehammer. I turned around and she was there out of the blue. She spilled lemonade down the front of her shirt.”

“Wet T-shirt?” Jordan asked.

“Interesting approach,” Darius said as he and Jordan nodded their approval, knowing that Julian was getting more and more annoyed with them as they enjoyed every minute.

“No,” Julian answered too quickly, “it wasn't like that. She had a regular cotton shirt on and, not seeing her, I swung the hammer back and nearly clipped her. She spilled the lemonade when she fell back on her…I'm sure you get the idea. Now can we please get back to business?”

Instead, Darius and Jordan continued. They laughed and joked but Julian had totally tuned them out by then. The wet T-shirt had reminded him of the scant towel wrapped around her body and the quick way she'd run back up the steps after seeing him. She was soaking wet, the towel was wrapped haphazardly, so when she'd turned and ran he had a perfect view of her two impeccably formed brown cheeks.

Instinctively his body reacted.

“See, he's not even paying attention now.”

“You know who he's thinking about, of course.”

“Of course. But who could blame him. She is fine.”

“It's not that I'm not paying attention.” Julian finally spoke up. “I simply choose to ignore you. Now, can we get back to business, please.”

“All in all, not exactly the best first meeting.”

“I'd have to agree there. I've found that basic introductions are usually best. The dramatic approach can sometimes backfire.”

Julian's piercing stare made them laugh harder.

“Relax, little brother,” Darius said as he continued jokingly, then laughed again seeing Julian's reaction to his “little brother” remark.

“I was relaxed. I mean, I am relaxed,” Julian said angrily, “until you two stopped by the office. Now can we please get back to business,” Julian affirmed more forcefully.

“Fine with me. Speaking of getting back to business, what about Mrs. Peyton's barbecue grill. Did you finish the job?”

“No, not even close.”

“Distracted?” Darius and Jordan asked simultaneously then tapped their closed fists together approvingly.

“No,” he insisted firmly, “although she cemented the front and side cinder blocks in place, she secured the back row by pouring a ton of cement into each one. Tearing that back wall down by hand is close to impossible. I'll have to use one of the machines.”

“So you're going back?”

“Yeah, you know how Mrs. Peyton is, if we don't take care of her she'll do it herself and you know what that means.”

The brothers nodded. “Disaster,” they said in unison.

“I'm sure you remember the gas stove incident, she nearly blew up three square blocks of the neighborhood with her handyman self-installation.”

“Not to mention the two-block blackout a few weeks ago.”

“All right, do you need anyone with you?”

“I've already taken care of it,” Julian said. “I have a small crew going over there Saturday to take the rest of the wall down. She needs you to come up with ideas for the new grill and better make it sooner than later. I think I saw that there was a special on this weekend about installing swimming pools.”

Darius nodded. “I'm already on top of it.”

“All right, we'll cover the rest of the jobs pending. But we need you in the office Monday. We need to jump on this county contract as soon as possible. Are you going back up to your office?”

“Yes, for an hour or so. I need to check on a few things before the start of the weekend.” Darius and Jordan eyed each other and smiled. Julian ignored them.

By the time Darius and Jordan reached the garage and their respective cars, the conversation had completely turned to business. Except Julian's thoughts still lingered on Dena and their meeting the day before. The ponytailed temptress with the Godsent body had changed into a woman, and once he saw her it was all he could do not to trip while getting off the escalator.

It wasn't so much the wet shirt or the embarrassed expression as she came barreling downstairs soaking wet in the towel, it was the sadness in her eyes behind the forced smile. Even just now on the escalator, her strained smile never seemed to reach her eyes, at least not until the last second. Whatever touched her and made her smile so genuinely had to be some kind of wonderful.

“All right, if that's it—” they all nodded in agreement “—we're out.”

“Have a good weekend,” Julian told his brothers, knowing that they were headed to the family beach house.

“You, too,” they responded in unison.

Darius got into his SUV and Jordan got into his sports car. They waved as they pulled out and drove away. Julian watched them go. Although it was his turn to stay in the city for the weekend, he was relieved and more than happy not to drive to the beach house. Staying at the family house had gotten to be too much of an effort for him. He turned to go back to the office. Then, looking down, he noticed a narrow stream of dark greenish liquid coming from beneath one of the cars.

Knowing what it meant, he made a mental note to talk to the attendant then went back into the office building wondering what Dena was really doing here.

 

Dena sat in the interview chair and answered the questions with ease, surprising even herself considering she'd just seen the man she'd dreamed about last night. Her voice was even-toned yet interested and her responses were concise. All things considered, everything went as well as could be expected.

The interviewer, Willamina Parker, seemed to be eleven months pregnant and ready to give birth any second. Happy and upbeat, she was excited that with this being her third child, she'd have some time to be with her other two small children in the coming months. After they discussed the basic duties of the job, her background and the company they began talking about motherhood and the strain on personal time.

Each had a different perspective, as Willamina was married to one of the company's project managers and they worked at the same job. So their relationship included seeing each other constantly. Dena said that she'd been widowed for over four years and that her late husband had never even known she was pregnant.

Having nearly forgotten that they were here for an interview, they talked about infants and toddlers and the fact that they each had an almost-four-year-old little boy and the trials of their adventures and, of course, misadventures. Laughing at similar stories and comparing notes, they got along perfectly. And since Dena hadn't bothered to make any friends since she'd come back to town, talking with another adult other than her great-aunt was a joy.

“Okay, I just have one more question, or rather, one last remark,” Willamina said. “Your résumé reads like a legal who's who. You clerked and interned with a number of law firms and judges, then worked at legal aid. Why aren't you practicing law?”