I Promise (10 page)

“Alex, look at me.”

She lowered her hands and turned to face him.

Malcolm slid his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “I didn't know.”

Her lips tilted sadly. “You didn't want to know.”

His long strides swallowed the space between them. “Why didn't you—”

“What? Tell you?” She laughed. “You have to be kidding me, right?”

He frowned at her harsh tone.

“Every model that works for Opulence fawns over you.” She swept her hand toward the closed door. “And Sheila is no exception. Do you think for one moment I want to be treated the way you treat them?”

He flinched from the truth. He had used women as a way of losing himself, a temporary solution to fill the emptiness in his heart. How could he explain that to her?

She shook her head. “The sad thing is I knew all along that we could never be more than what we are. We're too different.”

There was a certain finality to her words, but he didn't know what to say.

She glided toward the vanity table and inhaled the roses' floral scent.

As if seeing her for the first time, just how beautiful she was and how much she meant to him hit him. Over the past two years, she had been more than his confidante, she had been his best friend.

“Alex—”

“Please,” she implored him. “I know the next speech is the ‘can we still be friends.'” Tears crested her lashes. “But I don't think we can.”

Malcolm's breath went thin in his lungs as fear squeezed his heart.

She shook her head. “I can't pretend that I don't love you.”

Malcolm swallowed. Her confession stirred his emotions. She loved him. Currents of something warm and intoxicating traveled through him and spread through his body in waves.

“I know you could never feel the same way about me,” she continued, her chin tilted upward. “You're in love with Christian and I understand that. Maybe the best way for us to handle this is to just go our separate ways.”

Christian?
He mused to himself. He'd forgotten about her leaving for Texas and even his hurt over their broken engagement. All he'd been able to think about was patching things up with Alex.

“What if
I
don't want to make a clean break?” he asked. His questioning gaze pinned her with a look of sincerity.

“It's not about what you want,” she answered with honest conviction. “It's about what I want. And I think it would be better if we just didn't see each other again.”

N
oah removed his reading glasses and leaned back in his chair. Opulence's stock had plunged on the Dow Jones, reaching an all-time low. He rubbed his weary eyes to clear his double vision.

When he glanced at the finance reports again, his chest ached. Snatching open his top drawer, he retrieved a bottle of antacid. He would have to take out another loan in order to cover the payroll for the next six months. After that, he didn't know what he was going to do.

The setting sun cast an orange hue through the open window behind him and bathed his office with its vibrant color.

Tired of the charade of carrying and hiding Opulence's financial trouble, he doubted his ability to save the struggling company much longer. Wong Chin's threat surfaced in Noah's tormented mind.

He shook his head, refusing to believe in the possibility. He glanced over at his father's portrait, which hung on the wall. Shame washed over him. Noah remembered the way his father had run Opulence with an iron fist and sharp intuition. What would he say if he saw how everything had slipped through Noah's fingers?

A quick knock rapped at the door seconds before it whipped open.

Rosa's head peered around the door. An instant smile lit her face when her gaze found him. “There you are.” She eased into the room. “Did you forget we're supposed to have dinner with the Chins tonight?” She walked toward him.

His shoulders slumped as an intense headache hammered his skull. “Is that tonight?”

“Of course it's tonight.” She laid a hand across his forehead. “You know, you've been working too hard. You don't look too good. Maybe getting out tonight is just what you need.”

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Noah restrained his laughter. “Sweetheart, it's a business dinner, which translates as being an overpriced meal while discussing profit and loss reports.”

She waved off his objection. “Money, money, money,” she pouted. “That's all you ever talk about. What good does it do to work like this and never enjoy the fruits of your labor?”

“How can I? You spend enough for the both of us.”

Rosa flinched as if he'd slapped her.

“I'm sorry.” He took her hands into his. “I didn't mean that.”

Her expression softened beneath the tranquil glow of the setting sun. He admired and loved her earthy and timeless beauty as well as her sassiness and flair for dramatics.

“What's troubling you, honey?” she asked. Her hand caressed his face. Concern mirrored in her eyes.

He shrugged and stood. “It's nothing.”

“There's something you're not telling me,” she said, her tone sounding unconvinced. “What is it?”

Noah slid on his jacket and shook his head. “I swear. It's nothing.”

Rosa held his gaze as if trying to decipher the truth. Noah's reliable poker face saved him.

“Well, all right then. We better get going if we don't want to keep them waiting.”

His headache intensified. “No. We wouldn't want that.”

 

Twenty miles outside of Jackson, Mississippi, Jordan and Christian were parked in the emergency lane off I-20. The heat from the blazing sun burned mercilessly while they stood over the propped-up hood. Clouds of smoke billowed from the engine.

“What do we do now?” Christian asked with dread through her voice.

“It looks like we walk.”

Shielding her eyes, she glanced around and inquired, “How far do you think we are from the next exit?”

“One, maybe two, no more than three miles.”

She expelled a long breath and shook her head. “Well, let me get my purse. Do you need me to grab anything out of the car for you?”

“A flying carpet, if you've got one.”

“Cute.”

Jordan laughed. “It didn't hurt to ask.” He walked past her, grabbed something from the glove compartment, and then waited for her.

“You think this is safe?” she asked, once they were on their way.

Jordan crossed a hand over his heart. “You've wounded my masculine sensibilities. Are you doubting my ability to shield you from danger?”

“Masculine sensibilities? You keep talking like that and I'm sure I'll be the one protecting you if someone tries to attack us.”

He laughed.

She looked around again. “But I'm serious. I feel uncomfortable doing this. Too many senseless crimes happen this way.”

Jordan draped an arm around her shoulders. “I'm sorry this has happened, but I'd rather take you with me than leave you alone back there in the car. I should have brought my cell phone, but I didn't want to be disturbed by business on this trip.”

“Leave me? I would never have stayed, not without some type of protection.”

“I would have left you with my gun.”

Christian stopped. “You carry a gun?”

He turned and faced her. “Does that offend you?”

She blinked and shook her head. “Guns don't frighten me. I'm just surprised that's all. You just don't look like the Dirty Harry type.”

“To me, being armed just makes sense. I'm a black man living in the South and I drive an expensive car. In my opinion, that makes me a moving target.”

They resumed walking.

“It's rather sad that things really haven't changed that much over the years. I mean, concerning racism.”

Jordan shook his head. “True, but you have to remember it's not necessarily a hate crime. There are just as many brothers out there that wouldn't think twice of taking me out just for my car.”

She reflected on his point of view with bitterness. “I guess you have a point.”

“But hey, let's talk about something else. Tell me about yourself.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He laughed. “We're stuck with each other for the next three days. We could try to get to know each other.”

Ashamed of her defensive attitude, she chanced a quick smile in his direction. Their gazes held for a brittle moment. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way that came out.”

He nodded. “That's all right.” He looked at his watch, then glanced over his shoulder as cars whizzed by them. They still had plenty of daylight left, he calculated.

Five miles later, they reached the next exit.

Christian never complained during their walk. And yet, she never answered too many questions about herself either.

He didn't understand the big mystery, but he promised himself he was going to enjoy solving this one.

When they reached a gas station, Christian excused herself and went to the bathroom, while Jordan hurried to get the water needed for the car. Christian caught up with him ten minutes later. He'd found them a ride back to their vehicle.

Their ride was with a six-foot-six man with steel, Nordic eyes that sent shivers down her spine. He walked over, dressed in a pair of greasy overalls, and thrust out his hand. “Hello, ma'am. Name's Earl.”

“Hello. It's nice to meet you,” she greeted, casting an inquisitive look at Jordan.

As they headed toward a faded red pickup truck, she leaned over and whispered. “I don't know about this.”

“It's going to be all right,” he assured her in the same hushed tone.

She pinned him with a look of doubt.

“Trust me,” he added, climbing in behind her.

“You guys are sure lucky that I dropped by here,” Earl boasted in the thickest Alabama accent Christian had ever heard.

“We sure do appreciate the help,” Jordan thanked him.

She tolerated the sweltering heat inside the truck, which was in dire need of shock suspensions. She sat squeezed between the two men with her jaws clenched and a prayer in her heart.

After making a complete circle on the highway, Christian breathed a sigh of relief when she made out their car parked in the emergency lane.

As they drew closer, she gasped.

Jordan leaned forward. “What the hell—?”

“W
here is she?” Malcolm slapped the phone back in the cradle. He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been calling Alex for most of the evening. He couldn't let it end like this.

He stood and paced the floor. A clean break? What did she mean by that? You just don't tell someone you don't want to be friends anymore, he reasoned. His anger increased as his pace quickened. Glancing at his watch, he toyed with the idea of driving over to see her, to talk with her.

A loud knock sounded on his bedroom door.

“What is it?” he snapped, yanking it open.

Clarence's brows stretched inquisitively at Malcolm's harsh tone. “Is there anything wrong, sir?”

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to snap at you.”

“Women problems, I take it?”

“You know, not every time I have a problem is because of a woman.” His tone turned defensive.

Unconvinced, Clarence crossed his arms. “Christian?”

Malcolm laughed. “My ex-fiancée?”

“It
was
rather a short engagement, sir.”

“I've asked you not to call me that.” He turned away from his door and allowed Clarence to enter.

“Force of habit, sir. I stopped by to tell you that I have scheduled the movers to be here first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you.” Malcolm dropped across the bed.

After a moment of silence, Clarence turned to head out of the door.

“I just don't understand women,” Malcolm confessed.

Clarence stopped. “No man does,” he answered turning toward Malcolm again. “I like to think of them as being the eighth wonder of the world.”

Malcolm didn't laugh, but instead expelled a long frustrated breath. “I lost my best friend today.”

“I see.”

At Malcolm's silence, Clarence turned.

Malcolm spoke. “She was in love with me and I never knew it.”

Clarence pulled up a chair. “I take it you're not referring to Ms. McKinley?”

“To be honest with you I haven't thought about Christian. Up until this morning I thought I was in love with her. Who wouldn't be? She's smart, beautiful, and down-to-earth.”

“So what's the problem?”

“There are a few, actually. One, she doesn't feel the same way about me. Two, I'm not too sure that I feel the same about her anymore.” Malcolm sat up. “I know this probably doesn't make a bit of sense to you.”

“On the contrary. You forget that I was once your age.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Often,” Clarence answered with a shrug.

Malcolm laughed. “Any words of wisdom?”

“This best friend wouldn't happen to be Alexandria Cheney, would she?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you mind if I ask how you feel about her?”

“She's wonderful,” Malcolm responded enthusiastically. “She's beautiful, funny, intelligent. The list goes on forever, but I never once considered her as more than my best friend.”

“Why?”

“She's too perfect. I mean, I've never done anything right in my life. The last thing I want to do is screw up our relationship.”

“So you thought that if you just remained friends—”

“Then I would never lose her.” Malcolm's voice trailed off into a whisper.

“Sounds like you were in love with the wrong woman.”

Malcolm shook his head as his gaze locked with Clarence's. “Or I didn't realize I was in love with the right woman.”

 

“My, God. I don't believe this.” Christian blinked. She stared dumbfounded at the broken glass and dented rental car.

Earl rolled to a stop. No one spoke as they each got out of the truck. Glass covered the pavement surrounding the car as well as most of the car's interior.

As she neared the passenger's side, Christian's gaze assessed the long keyed scratches that had ruined the paint job and the slashed tires. Their clothes had been thrown out of their bags and scattered across the backseat.

She snatched open the back door and dug for the small compartment inside of her tote bag. Her heart squeezed with fear. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

They were gone.

A sense of loss swallowed her whole. Her mother's diamond-studded earrings were gone. She shook her head. She had cherished the gift she'd received from her grandmother. They connected her with her deceased mother, and now they were lost forever.

Jordan sat behind the wheel and expelled a long breath that drew Christian's attention. Wires dangled between a wide, empty space in the dashboard. The car stereo had been stolen.

Earl stood in front of the car, shaking and scratching his head. “If this don't beat all,” he said. “How long were you folks gone?”

“A couple of hours,” Jordan answered before dropping his head back against the headrest.

Christian remained quiet. What was there to say?

Earl shifted his dingy “Truckers do it better” cap around his head and gazed up at the fading sun. “You folks need a ride back to the pay phones?”

Jordan glanced over at her.

Christian shrugged. What choice did they have?

“Sure, that's very nice of you,” he replied, getting out of the car.

Jabbing clothes back into their luggage, Christian didn't bother to separate their belongings. They would just have to figure things out later.

“Just leave it,” Jordan said. “They've already taken everything valuable. We can leave everything like it is until we can get some help out here.”

Jaws clenched, she shook her head. Could this day get any worse?

 

Wong Chin raised his glass to make a toast. “To leadership,” his voice thundered. His gaze centered on Noah as a malicious grin slithered into place. “And to Opulence's glorious future.”

Noah raised his glass.

Everyone clinked their glasses together in the center of the table.

The men's gazes locked together, while they drank.

“This is a wonderful restaurant you've selected, Mrs. Chin,” Rosa started the conversation.

“Please, call me Mie-Lin.”

“Ah, what a beautiful name,” Rosa declared.

“Tell me, Noah,” Chin interrupted the women without an apology. “Has your team already come up with Opulence's new marketing campaign?”

“Our team is still on schedule.”

“Well, that is good news. I do want to express my sympathies over your son Jordan leaving the company. I hope that doesn't indicate that there is some type of problem that the board doesn't know about?”

A muscle twitched along Noah's jaw. “On the contrary, but I am happy to see that your spies are doing such a wonderful job in reporting everything to you.”

Chin didn't bother to deny the accusation. “One can never be too careful.”

“Now I thought that this was going to be a social evening.” Rosa touched her husband's arm, but smiled tightly at Chin. “You men can talk business at another time.”

As if on cue, Mie-Lin pushed back in her chair. “I need to go to the ladies' room.” She stood. “Rosa, would you care to join me?”

Rosa's gaze darted to everyone. A look of uneasiness settled on her features.

Noah's hand squeezed hers for reassurance, but he knew the gesture did nothing of the sort.

“If you gentlemen would excuse us,” she said tightly.

Both men stood and waited until the women departed from the table.

Noah turned his attention to Chin. “So what kind of trap have you lured me into Chin?”

His adversary's thunderous laugh and headshaking denial were too short to be convincing.

“If you remember, Noah. This little get-together was your wife's idea.”

“And you've never been one to pass up on an opportunity to be a pain in my backside.”

Chin's sobered expression twisted in thought before he said, “You know there is no shame in stepping down as CEO. We all want what is best for Opulence. I know I speak for the board when I say it's time we start looking for some new blood, a fresh face, if you will.”

“It doesn't work like that, Chin.” Noah's razor-sharp voice sliced through the man's prepared speech. “Opulence is my family heritage and I have no plans to just hand it over to a bunch of greedy, self-indulgent people looking to make a fast buck.” His outrage fell on deaf ears.

“Spare me the heritage speech, Noah. You forget that I've heard it before. If you were so concerned about keeping Opulence just a quaint family business, then maybe you should never have gone public. This is business. It's not personal. Money runs businesses. Money keeps businesses. And whether you like it or not, money is the bottom line.”

Noah's icy gaze pierced the younger man.

Chin lifted his wineglass and drained the remaining contents before he hit Noah with the ace up his sleeve. “The board wants to meet with your people, review the fall marketing strategies, then vote on whether we want to keep you on board.”