Legacy of Love (5 page)

“Will you be here tonight?”

“Absolutely.”

“I'll make sure you get some good photos.”

“Thanks. I'd really appreciate that.”

“Security will see you out.”

“Thanks again.”

Zoe nodded, turned away and headed back toward her office. About halfway there, she took a detour and took the elevator downstairs to where the statues were still under wraps.

Several members of the maintenance team were unloading crates when she came in. She walked through the cavernous space among the paintings and sculptures, boxes and crates until she reached the room where the statues were being held. She punched in the security code on the panel and the door buzzed open.

The instant she walked in the room, her skin began to tingle and the scent—his scent wrapped around her. She drew in a long, deep breath and her heart began to race. She gripped the head of the female statue to keep from falling and what seemed like a spark of electricity shot through her arm. She jerked her hand away and backed out of the room, practically running all the way to her office.

A
fter his last class, Jackson went home to shower and change, and grab a quick bite to eat. He'd been to his share of receptions, and food wasn't high on the list of reasons to attend. He barely had two hours to get ready and back to campus. He pulled up in front of his building and noticed someone sitting on his front steps.
Victoria
. What the… Something told him to keep on driving, but time was not on his side. He had a bad feeling.

He pulled into his driveway, shut off the engine and willed himself to be calm. How did she even know where he lived? Reluctantly he got out and slowly approached. Victoria stood.

“I know I shouldn't be here,” she said before he could get a word out. “But I had to see you.”

Jackson took a quick look around. “Victoria, this is not cool. Whatever you need to talk to me about we can do on campus or during my office hours.”

“I know. But…please listen.” She took a step forward and reached a hand toward his chest.

Jackson eased back and gave them some distance. “I'm listening.”

Victoria lowered her arm. “I wanted to tell you the real reason why I stopped working as your assistant.”

“Okay. What was the reason?”

“Some people who you think are in your corner aren't.”

Jackson let out a breath of frustration. “What are you talking about?”

“You're up for chair of your department.”

“Yes,” he said with a hint of caution in his voice.

“There are some people that don't want you to have it.”

He frowned. “And you know this how?”

“It was no accident that I got assigned to you or that I petitioned so hard for the spot.”

“What exactly are you trying to tell me, Victoria?”

“Professor Treme, no matter what you do, you won't get that position. My real job was to spy on you, to pass along information about you and your research.”

“To whom?”

“I can't tell you that. What I can tell you is to watch your back. Everyone is not who they make themselves out to be. I like you, professor. I think that you're an incredible teacher and I just couldn't be a part of it anymore. And please, don't tell anyone I told you this. I'm putting in for a transfer for next semester. But if they found out that I said anything. I have a lot on the line, too.”

“I…don't know what to say. This is crazy.”

“I've got to go.” She started off.

“Victoria…wait.”

She stopped and turned.

“Thank you.”

She gave him a half smile and hurried toward her beige Honda that was parked at the curb.

Jackson watched her drive away, almost rooted to the spot. He shook his head. It didn't make sense. Why go through all that trouble? Better yet, who would go through all that trouble?

His cell phone rang shaking him out of his troubling thoughts. He pulled the phone from his pocket. Levi's number lit up the digital face. “Hey, what's up?”

“Yeah, I wanted to let you know that I'll probably meet you at the museum. I got kind of tied up.” He chuckled.

“Hmm, okay.”

“See you later.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Hey, everything cool?”

“Yeah, everything's fine,” he said absently, as Victoria's warning played in his head.
Everyone is not who they make themselves out to be
. Did that include Levi? “I'm just walking into my place,” he added. “Gotta get a move on.”

“Cool. See you later.”

“Sure. Later.” He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. He checked his mailbox, took out three bills then stuck the key into the lock of his front door and opened it.

He set his briefcase down on the console table in the entry hallway and went into the kitchen to see what he could throw together quickly. He washed his hands at the sink then searched through the fridge. He had some leftover chicken and decided to make himself a sandwich, which he took upstairs.

Between bites he undressed and took a shower. The conversation with Victoria was still playing in his head. Who was she talking about?

He stepped out of the shower and into his bedroom. He barely had an hour left before he had to meet the students. Opening his closet door, he took out his black shirt and black slacks. The temperature was in the high eighties, but he planned to wear a jacket anyway. He took his sports jacket out and put everything on the bed and started to get dressed just as the doorbell rang.

“Now what?” He wasn't up for any more surprises. He pulled on his pants and shoved his arms
in his shirt and went downstairs to the door and pulled it open. “Michelle! What in the world…?”

“I know I should have called…”

His surprise shifted to alarm when he focused on her stricken expression then to his niece, Shay, who stood at her side. He scooped up his five-year-old niece. “Hey, sweetie.” He glanced at his sister over Shay's head, put his arm around Michelle's shoulder and ushered her inside.

Jackson set his niece down then stooped down to her level. “Look how big you are.”

She giggled. “We came to visit, Uncle Jack.”

“So I see. And I'm glad you're here. I was getting lonely for my favorite niece.” He grinned and kissed her head.

Shay spotted his giant television. “Can I watch
Dora the Explorer?
Please, Uncle Jack.”

“Sure, sweetie.” He turned on the television, surfed to the channel guide and found the cartoon.

Shay settled back on the couch and within moments was totally engrossed in her favorite show.

Jackson turned to Michelle. “Let's go in the kitchen,” he said softly. She followed him. “Can I get you anything?”

“Some water or juice will be fine,” she said, her voice sounding hollow. She lowered herself into the chair at the table.

Jackson opened the fridge and took out a container of apple juice and poured her a glass. He set
it in front of her and sat down. “What happened, Mikki?”

She blinked rapidly to hold back the tears she'd kept at bay during the hours-long drive from New Orleans. “I left him.”

“What?” He lurched forward. “Travis? What in the world happened?”

“I came home…early yesterday. I wasn't feeling well and…”

Jackson's pulse started to pound.
Don't let her say what I think she's going to say
.

“He…she…he was in bed with Carla.”

Time froze and the room seemed to vibrate. What she'd said didn't make sense. Carla and Travis? “Michelle…he was with Carla?”

She nodded silently and then the tears came in a downpour, silent and loud all at once. And Jackson felt every iota of her heartache twist and turn inside of him.

He came around the table, knelt beside her and gathered her in his arms. “Let it out,” he encouraged. “I'm here. It's going to be all right.”

“I had nowhere else to go. I couldn't stay there in that house where they…”

He gently stroked her back. “It's okay. My home is yours and Shay's for as long as you need it.” He held her tighter, trying to put the horrible scenario together in his head. His thoughts spun out of control. Travis and Carla—his ex…

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “How could he do this
to me? How?” Deep wracking sobs shook her body. “And Carla…”

All Jackson could see was red. He was going to hurt Travis. He was going to pay.

“What's wrong, Mommy?”

Jackson's head jerked up. Michelle swiped at her eyes and forced a smile on her face before she turned around.

“Nothing, baby. I'm just tired from that long drive.” She swallowed and sniffed.

Shay stood in the doorway, her innocent brown eyes looking from her mother to her uncle.

“Why don't you go up and rest for a while, I'll get Shay something to eat.”

Michelle rushed to her feet. “I'll be right upstairs if you need me,” she said, her voice still shaky. She stroked Shay's braids and walked out looking as if she'd aged ten years.

“Mommy's sad,” Shay said.

“A little bit. But she will be fine.”

“I don't like it when Mommy's sad.”

“I know, sweetheart. Neither do I. So that's why you have to be extra sweet to her until she feels better. Okay?”

Shay bobbed her head.

“Now,” he said lifting her up and bracing her on his hip. “What would you like?”

“Ice cream!”

Jackson chuckled. “Ice cream it is.”

 

Once Jackson had gotten Shay settled, he went upstairs to check on his sister. He found her curled in a tight knot in the center of the guestroom bed. He sat down on the side.

Michelle opened her eyes, which were now red and swollen. “I must look a mess,” she murmured and pushed her hair away from her face. She focused on her brother. “You're dressed to go out.” She sat up. “Jack, I didn't even realize… I just came barging in…”

“Mikki, take it easy. It's okay. Relax. It's the opening at the museum that I was telling you about. I'm taking my class. But I can call my assistant…” He remembered he didn't have an assistant anymore. “I can make some calls and tell them to go on without me.”

“No, absolutely not! Shay and I will be fine.”

“Look, why don't I take Shay with me so that you can get some rest?”

She was pensive for a moment. “Are you sure? You know how wound up she can get sometimes.”

“Don't worry about it. We'll be fine.”

“At least let me clean her up and change her clothes.” She scooted off the bed.

“Michelle…”

She turned.

“It's going to be all right. Understand?”

She nodded and hurried out.

Jackson stood in the center of the room. Rage
burned inside him. It took all of his willpower not to jump in his car and head straight to New Orleans. However, he had to think of his sister and his niece first. But Travis was going to pay.

J
ackson and twenty-five of his students stood in the long line to enter the museum. Twilight was approaching and the spotlights that moved in slow arcs above and around the buildings gave the evening a real Hollywood feel.

The arriving crowd was dressed for a major opening, in business suits and gowns to sparkling jewelry and tuxedos. Jackson was glad he'd decided on the jacket even though he'd decided not to wear a tie.

“This is a pretty big deal, huh, Professor Treme?” one of his students commented while adjusting his tie.

“Looks that way.”

“Will we be able to take pictures?” another young lady asked him.

“I'm not sure. They'll let us know once we get inside.”

“Why are all these people here, Uncle Jack?”

Jackson looked down at Shay. “They all came to see the special statues.”

She frowned in confusion for a minute. “Why?”

Jackson chuckled. “Because they're special.”

Shay blinked. “Oh. Like me?”

“Yep. Just like you.” He squeezed her hand. “Now remember what we talked about. No wandering. You hold my hand. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They inched along the line, showing their passes at the entrance and finally they were inside.

The rotunda of the museum was awash in lights and activity. White-jacketed waiters circulated among the throng with platters of tempting hors d'œuvres and canapés. Photographers took pictures of those attending the opening and the statues themselves. There was a low hum of excitement and conversation that buzzed in the air.

“Take good notes,” he told his students before they dispersed into pairs and groups of threes.

“Is that the special statue?” Shay asked, pointing to a terracotta figure of an elegant African figure from the ancient city of Djenne, in Mali.

“No, sweetheart.” He walked her closer to the sculpture and read the description below it.

“Then where are they? I'm hungry.”

Jackson chuckled. “Okay. One thing at a time. Let's get you some food first and then we'll go find the special statues.”

Shay enthusiastically bobbed her head and skipped beside her uncle while Jackson led them around the bodies to the long buffet table. As he was selecting what he thought she would like, a warm sensation began to flow through him. His stomach clenched and he had the overwhelming sensation that someone was sneaking up on him. He spun around only to see a room full of well-dressed people. His pulse raced like crazy. A flashbulb went off to his left. He turned and there she was. It was her—the woman from the fire, from his dreams. The paper plate fell from his hand.

“Uncle Jack!” Shay whined, tugging on his jacket. “You dropped all the food.”

“I'll get that sir.” A young woman dressed in all black, obviously one of the catering staff, began to clean it up.

In the flurry of activity Jackson looked back to where he'd seen her, and she was gone and the room seemed to have exploded with even more people.

Jackson let go of an expletive that was muffled when the five-piece band began to play. He tried to peer over the heads of the guests to see if he could spot her. It was as if he'd only imagined her. But he hadn't, he was sure of it.

“What's wrong, Uncle Jack?”

He shook off his frustration and focused on
Shay's upturned face. He smiled. “Uncle Jack is just a little crazy today,” he said, only half joking. “Let me try fixing you another plate and then we'll go find the statues.”

As he selected the canapés and crudités, adding them to Shay's plate, he scanned the room as best he could. Where had she gone?

“Let's go over to that bench so you can sit down and eat.”

“Don't spill it this time Uncle Jack, 'cause I'm really hungry.”

Jackson hustled Shay into a spot and got her settled. He wanted to tell her to just gobble it down so that he could continue searching for the woman. Every nerve ending in his body was on edge. His foot tapped out a nervous beat. Shay was eating each piece of food with the speed of a snail. He couldn't sit still and jumped up, pacing the square foot of space in front of them, all the while peering in between bodies and over heads.

“Finished!”

Jackson glanced at Shay who was holding out her half-eaten plate of food. “I thought you were starving,” he teased, and took her plate.

She hopped up from the bench. “I was.”

“Okay. Come on, let's go find those statues.”

 

“What an amazing turnout,” Mike said, walking alongside Zoe.

“I can't believe it. I guess all that PR work we've been doing paid off.”

“Yes, in dollars,” he said laughing. “It will definitely help to close the budget gap.” He glanced at her. “You look amazing tonight,” he said in a tone that caused Zoe to shoot him a look. He was staring down at her with a smile that was a hairsbreadth short of inviting.

A nervous flutter jumped in her stomach. “Thank you,” she said over a smile. “You don't look too bad yourself,” she added, lightly poking him in the arm, hoping to defuse the heat that danced in his eyes.

He placed his hand at the small of her back as they moved through the crowd. Zoe stiffened ever so slightly. “I'm going to see if I can find Sharlene. Keep mingling,” she said and hurried off in the opposite direction. What was that about? she wondered as she smiled and greeted people in the crowd. She'd reached the archway leading into one of the exhibit rooms when she nearly tumbled over a little girl. Righting herself she caught the child's shoulder to keep her from tumbling backward.

“Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I didn't see you. Are you okay?” she asked bending down to eye level. Tears ran down the child's cheeks. “Did I hurt you? Where's your mom?” She looked over the child's head then back at her when she didn't notice anyone rushing to her aid.

“She's not here,” she whimpered. “I'm in big trouble.”

“Who did you come with?”

“My uncle.”

“Do you know where your uncle is?”

She shook her head no.

“Okay.” Zoe stood and exhaled a breath. She looked around. How could someone be so irresponsible? The museum was too crowded not to be paying attention to a child.

“What's your uncle's name, sweetheart?”

“Uncle Jack.”

Zoe bit back a smile. “We'll find Uncle Jack in no time. Okay?” She took Shay's hand. “Let's go to the security desk.”

Shay dug in her heels and pulled away. “My mommy said not to go with strangers.” She started crying again.

“But I'm not…you're right. And your mommy is right. Um…” She looked around, raised up on tip-toe to see if she could spot one of the security guards. Now she wished she hadn't listened to Sharlene when she said that the walkie-talkie clashed with her black-beaded cocktail dress. She looked great, but she couldn't communicate with the staff and her purse was locked in her desk along with her cell phone. “Frank!” she called out, turning several heads in her direction. “Frank.” She waved her hand above her head. Finally he saw her and wound his way over.

Frank Monroe was her chief of security. “Hey, Ms. Beaumont. What can I do for you?”

“This young lady is lost. Could you get on the intercom and let Uncle Jack know that we found
his niece…” She bent down to Shay. “What's your name, sweetie?”

“My mommy said not to tell strangers my name.” She blinked rapidly.

Zoe and Frank shared a look.

“Do you know your uncle Jack's last name?”

She slowly shook her head no.

Zoe pushed out a breath. “Okay, Frank. Get on the intercom and ask for ‘Uncle Jack.' We have his niece in front of the American Arts wing.”

“No problem.”

 

All Jackson could imagine was the worst. He tore in and out and around the thousands of people who had filled the museum. It was a split second and she was gone. The museum was humongous in size with several floors and adjacent building.
Oh, my God.
He had to find someone in charge.

“May I have your attention?” A smooth modulated voice came through the intercom system. “Would
Uncle Jack
please come to the entrance to the American Arts wing on the second floor.”

Jackson stopped in his tracks.

“Uncle Jack,”
he repeated, “Please come to the second floor. The American Arts wing.”

“Thank God.” He darted toward the stairs, taking them two at a time, barely avoiding knocking people over. He reached the landing and looked around frantically for the American Arts wing. He saw the signage and jogged down the corridor when
suddenly he felt as if someone had slammed him in the chest. The air lodged in his lungs.

It was her.

Zoe felt him before she saw him, like a hand stroking her bare flesh. Her pulse quickened and heat infused her veins. She turned and there he was. Their gazes connected like lightning hitting a tree and the entire room brightened.

The crowd, of its own volition, seemed to part leaving them an open path toward each other.

Jackson moved, dreamlike toward her, as everything around them receded. All he could see was her.

“Hello, again,” he said, a melodiousness lacing his voice. He wanted to touch her to convince himself that she was real.

“Hello.” She looked up into his eyes that were darker than eternity and lost herself there.

“Uncle Jack!” Shay buried her face against his thigh. “Please don't tell mommy.”

Jackson shook himself out of the trance that he was in and scooped Shay up into his arms, kissing her cheeks in relief. He held her close but couldn't take his eyes off of Zoe. He wouldn't dare. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said a bit breathless.

“Jackson. Jackson Treme.”

“Zoe Beaumont.”

For a moment all they could do was stare at each other. No words could convey the tumultuous
thoughts that swirled through their heads. The stories, the myths, the dreams, the hopes and fears all warred inside their heads for attention.

“I'm here with my class,” Jackson finally said.

“Oh.” Zoe snapped to attention. “Class?”

“Yes, I'm a professor at Clarke-Atlanta.”

“Really? What do you teach?”

“Art history, mainly.”

“I work here. I'm the head curator for the African History Museum.”

He laughed, thinking of all the times he'd walked past the museum and she'd been there all along engrossed in the very thing he loved—history. A part of him seemed to know that it couldn't have been any other way and couldn't have happened at any time other than now. Was it possible that she was even more beautiful than he remembered from their brief encounter?

She watched the light dance in his eyes and the way the curves around his luscious lips deepened when he smiled revealing beautiful, even teeth. She wanted to stroke the strong jaw and run her finger along the line of his brow, touch the small scar there and ask him how it happened. But she knew. Somehow she knew that it happened when he was about twelve and he'd been riding his bike down a hill and he hit a rock and went flying. She also knew that one day he would tell her all about it.

“Have you seen the exhibit yet?” she managed to ask.

“No. That's what we were on our way to do when…we got separated.” He squeezed Shay a bit tighter against him.

“I'd be happy to show you.”

“I'd like that.”

They walked side by side, intermittently stealing glances and sharing smiles of amazement at each other. And it felt perfect, natural, as if walking together was something that they'd always done.

“Zoe…” He loved the way her name rolled off his tongue, and vibrated down to his center.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever met someone for the first time but felt that you've known them all your life?”

Zoe stopped walking and gazed up at him. “Yes.” Her eyes moved in increments across his face and her polished lips moved into a smile that expressed more than any words ever could. Coming from anyone else she would have dismissed it as a come on line, but not Jackson Treme. He wasn't like other men. He was her destiny.

Jackson had the urgent need to touch her to discover if her skin was a silky as it appeared. He wanted to take her in his arms and rest his head against her neck and inhale her scent, mold her against his body. He wanted to let go of the dream and capture reality. He wanted to know everything about her, listen to her tell him about her life, which he had been led to become a part of. All that would come in time. Of that he was certain.

“There you are.” Mike approached, short-circuiting the electricity that popped between them. “I've been looking all over. I called you on the two-way.”

“Oh, I left it in the office.”

Mike looked at Jackson and realizing that they were together his expression stiffened.

“Mike, this is Jackson Treme. Mr. Treme, Mike Williams, assistant curator.”

Jackson shifted Shay in his arms and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure.”

“Enjoying the exhibit?”

“We were actually heading into the main attraction.”

Mike peered around Jackson's shoulder. “Looks like your little girl is out for the count.” He chuckled.

“No wonder she got so heavy.” He stroked her back. “My niece.”

Mike snapped his fingers. “You're Uncle Jack!”

“Guilty.”

“Yeah, gotta be careful with kids. They can get away from you.” Mike turned his full attention on Zoe. “The chairman is here. He wanted to speak to you.”

Zoe's eyes widened. “Chairman Lang? Where is he?”

“On the first floor in the lounge.”

She turned to Jackson. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“And you. Thanks. About Shay…”

She waved off his thanks. “Not a problem.”