His Golden Heart (26 page)

Beau yanked open the door and faced Kelly. She made a moue. “Uh,” she said. “Uh, do I need to give you time to get decent? Yes, I see I do.”

Beau looked down and realized his fly was still open. He yanked his zipper up. “Sorry. What was it you wanted?”

Kelly didn’t blink an eye. “I think you’ve got a red flag trailing from your pocket.”

It took him a while to comprehend. He pulled Shayna’s underwear from his pocket and sent both items sailing across the room.

“Come in.” He yanked the door wide. “I could use some advice. I screwed up this time really badly.”

“Where’s Shayna? Her car’s out front,” Kelly said as she walked into the room, eyeing the rumpled sheets, and the candles still burning. She wrinkled her nose. “Smells like sex in here.”

Beau thought it best to ignore the comment. He gingerly made his way to the window, opening it. A gust of fresh air blew in, stirring the curtains. “Better?”

Kelly wrinkled her nose again. “It’ll take a while.” She sat gingerly on the Queen Anne chair, one eyebrow raised. “Okay, bro, fess up. Where’s she stashed? Closet? Bathroom? Under the bed?”

“Neither. She’s gone, through the back door.” He knew he sounded miserable.

“Your, uh…performance scared her off? Or was it your dimensions?” Kelly chortled heartily.

“It’s not funny. This is serious, Kell.”

His sister’s expression changed from playful to serious. “Okay, let me see if I understand this. You had your therapist here?”

“That’s correct.”

“You banged her.”

“Made love to her, Kell.”

“Okay, you made love to her. Thanks for correcting me. It means you’re serious. What’s the problem?” She frowned at him. “So why do you need me?”

“Because now I’ve pissed her off.”

“You’re not making sense. You banged…no, made love to her. She walked out on you. You’ve lost your touch, little brother.”

Exasperated, Beau yelled, “Listen to me. Shayna left because Chandra’s on her way over.”

Kelly blew air through pursed lips and squinted her eyes at him. “Why is that ho.. uh your ex coming over? I thought she was in Europe and you’d gotten rid of her.” Comprehension finally dawned. “You two-timing bastard, now you’re expecting me to bail you out?”

“No. No. It’s over with Chandra, Kell. I love Shayna, but Chandra still has my house key.”

Kelly stood up abruptly. “So she’s invited herself over. Pretty dumb not to get your key back. Sounds like your sorry butt’s going to have to do lots of explaining. I want nothing to do with this.”

“I need advice from a woman,” Beau pleaded.

“Grovel. That’s my advice to you. Kiss butt big time and pull out all the stops.” Kelly tossed her blond ponytail over her shoulder and stomped out, shaking her head. “You got yourself into this mess, now get yourself out.”

“Big help you are,” Beau muttered to her back.

The front door banged open and a woman’s voice called, “Beau-Beau, Your baby’s here. Hot, ready, and waiting to make love.” A rustling sound followed.

Kelly turned back to him, rolling her eyes. “Baby’s back, all right. You sure know how to pick them.” She danced off and must have run into Chandra.

“Who are you?” Chandra demanded.

“Who are you?” his sister came back with. The two had never met. “Any reason you’re standing in my living room half naked?”

Beau ran a hand across his cropped head of hair. Better get out there before the two killed each other. He tucked his shirt in his pants made sure his fly was zipped, and grabbed his cane. No wheelchair tonight, he needed to make a dignified entry.

Beau walked onto a scene that had potential for violence. He hovered at the entrance of the living room as his sister faced his ex-girlfriend, fire flashing from her eyes.

Chandra’s shirt was unbuttoned. Her breasts hung heavily through the opening, nipples taut.

“You still haven’t answered,” Kelly demanded. “Why would you just barge into someone’s home? I don’t know you.”

Chandra dangled the key in front of his sister’s face. “In case you missed it, I have a key. You’re Beau’s latest?” She wrinkled her nose. “Can’t account for taste. Get out of my way.”

Kelly planted her feet firmly and refused to budge. “This is my house. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To find Beau.”

“No, you’re not.”

Chandra was close to pitching a fit. Her breasts jiggled freely as she placed fisted hands on her hips. How had he ever thought himself in love with her?

There was charged silence as the women sized each other up. Time to intervene.

Beau hobbled into the room. “Time out, ladies.”

“Beau,” Chandra said, flying at him, completely uncaring of her exposed chocolate-tipped lobes. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and began kissing his face.

“Oh, Beau-Beau, you’re walking again, not perfectly, but you’re walking. Tell that woman she needs to go. That she means nothing to you.”

The humor of the situation suddenly struck him and he decided to play with Chandra a bit. “Kelly and I go back a long way. We live together.”

“What! You love me, Beau-Beau, not her. You love these.” She cupped her breasts, offering them to him like a snack.

“Pathetic,” Kelly muttered. “The poor thing has to use sex to make up for a horrible personality.”

“Button up, Chandra,” Beau ordered.

“You’re embarrassing the man,” Kelly said, linking an arm through Beau’s.

“You’re living with a cripple,” Chandra shouted, tears falling freely now. “He can’t even make love.”

“I beg to differ. My cripple is virile and delivers,” Kelly said smugly. “You’re here hot, ready, and waiting, so he must have something going on.”

Beau couldn’t control himself. He laughed so loudly he almost split his pants in two.

“Shut up,” Chandra screamed, giving Beau a murderous glare. “You’re a nobody you can’t afford to be so mean.”

“This nobody is now asking you to leave.”

Beau saw the too-short skirt, the open blouse, the distended nipples, and realized how desperate Chandra must be. Kelly was right. Chandra was pretty pathetic. How had he not seen that before? He’d been seduced and had fallen for her act, hook, line, and sinker. This was the way she’d always been. Superficial.

“While you were gone you had a very public affair,” he said. “Now you’re expecting me to take you back.”

“Franco meant nothing to me. My agent thought he’d be good for my career and would get me more media coverage.”

“And he did,” Beau finished. “It also woke me up. I want nothing to do with you.”

“But I’m not done with you,” Chandra fumed, flouncing off. I’m done when I say I’m done.”

“
You’re forgetting something,” Kelly called after her. “We need our key.”

Chandra dug through her purse and flung the key at them. Beau was forced to duck to avoid getting hit in the head.

“You’ve got lousy taste in women,” Kelly said, loud enough for Chandra to hear.

When the door slammed behind Chandra, they collapsed on the couch, howling.

“Oh, Beau,” Kelly said when she was able to speak. “How could you have gotten involved with that woman?”

Beau wiped away tears. “I should have been declared temporarily insane.”

It was time to put this chapter of his life behind him. All of his effort now had to be focused on winning Shayna back. It would be a difficult task but he was determined to go after the woman he wanted.

* * *

A week went by with no word from Shayna. Beau had tried calling numerous times and had left messages, but there’d been no return call. He’d even spent time at Hill Of Dreams, hoping that Reggie would intervene and plead his cause, but the teenager remained adamant about not getting involved.

“You don’t know what Shayna’s like when she’s pissed off,” Reggie informed him. “Nothing I say is going to make a difference. You better figure out some way of winning her back.”

“How can I do that when she doesn’t seem to want to talk to me?” Beau had said.

Reggie had tugged on the bill of his cap. “Better come up with something, man, and quick. I got my own problems to think about.”

Beau supposed Reggie did, with only a week or so left to his trial.

If anyone should be angry, he had reason to be. Beau had shown up for physical therapy a few days ago to find another therapist assigned to work with him. The new person had introduced herself, mumbling something about Shayna calling in sick, and her being called in at the last moment.

Relying on his cane to take the majority of his weight, Beau with some difficulty managed the few steps leading up to his father’s law offices. The day was warm, almost sticky and he’d ridden over with the top down. He’d worn a long sleeved tee-shirt, pushing up the sleeves. He’d parked the Saab convertible in a space out front, and he’d arrived minus a chauffeur, driving against his doctor’s orders.

“Hey, good looking,” one of his father’s paralegals greeted. “It’s been a while since you’ve been around. Good to see you up and walking.” She tossed a headful of braids and batted her eyelashes at him. “We should do lunch some time.”

“Yeah, sure. Is my dad in?”

“I think so. Ask Flossie, she keeps track of him.”

Flossie, his dad’s secretary, had been with him as long as Beau could remember. She was pushing seventy if she was a day, plump, and as sharp as they came. Physically she looked like Santa’s wife.

Beau headed in the direction of his father’s office.

“If you’re ever at loose ends, phone me” the paralegal called after him.

Beau flashed his signature smile and continued on.

Flossie’s domain was a comfortable outer office. She placed two arthritic fingers on the keyboard and banged out a message. Given her age she was quite proficient on a computer.

Beau cleared his throat.

“Just a moment,” Flossie said, one finger in the air while plonking away with the other. She scowled at her monitor.

“Are you here to see Mr. Anderson?”

“Yes, and you.”

She looked up, a wide smile creasing her Mrs. Claus face. “Beau, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Is your dad expecting you?” He was enfolded in her lilac embrace and pressed against her more than ample chest. It was deja vu all over again. Memories of his maternal grandmother surfaced. She’d died several years back, but had worn the same scent.

“What kind of day is Dad having?” Beau asked. He’d called earlier that week and been assured it wasn’t particularly busy, but things might have changed.

Flossie thumbed through her appointment book, oblivious to the fact a calendar existed on her computer. She was still fashioned that way.

“You’re in luck. Ed’s free for lunch.” She beamed at Beau. “Take him to that nice place around the corner. All the young people go there. Shall I tell him you’re here?”

“Please.”

Beau waited on one of the plush couches while Flossie waddled away. The office had been redecorated since his last visit and it was more aesthetically pleasing to the eye. It was now all cream walls, polished mahogany tables, leather couches and brass. Bound books were neatly lined up on floor-to-ceiling shelves, and potted bamboo plants added a touch of the exotic to the setting. The paintings on the walls were one of a kind and expensive.

When Beau thought Flossie had disappeared forever, his father appeared in her place. Ed’s glasses were balanced high on his shining dome as he pretended to scowl at Beau.

“You should be keeping busy,” he said. “Why are you here?”

“I am busy. I’m very involved with the center.”

Ed’s gaze lingered on the tiny gold hoop in his son’s ear. It had remained a bone of contention between them though neither broached the subject anymore. He closed the space between them and embraced his son. “Good to see you.”

Beau hugged him back. “I’m here to take you to lunch,” he announced. “Get your jacket, and let’s go out.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure? You in trouble, son?”

“No, those days are behind me. We’re going right down the street. This shouldn’t take long. “

Ed’s jowls shook as he looked Beau up and down. “You’re buying, right?”

“I’m buying.”

“In that case I’ll wrap up what I was doing and be back here in a flash.”

Prepared for a long wait, Beau crossed one denim-clad leg over the other. He’d worn his boots, and the combination of snakeskin, gold earring, and buzz cut would be too much for his normally conservative father. Lunch promised to be interesting.

He loved his dad but they were as different as two people could be. Physically and mentally. As a child Ed had tried his best to turn him into junior white bread. Beau had resisted and there’d been frequent tussles. Beau had grown up wheat and was going to stay wheat. He clung to his roots fiercely, needing to remember where he came from. It hadn’t always been easy being African American in an all-white family, but he’d kept many old friends, and frequent visits back to the old neighborhood kept him real.