Looking For Trouble (32 page)

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Authors: Trice Hickman

BOOK: Looking For Trouble
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Chapter 46
F
ifteen minutes later, PJ and Alexandria were sitting on his couch, looking at each other in silence. Alexandria knew she needed to make the situation right, so she eased close to him and took his hand into hers. “I'm very sorry, PJ.”
“I know. You said that already.”
“You're very distant toward me right now,” she said, holding tightly to his hand. “Please let me in and talk to me. Tell me how you're feeling.”
“You already know.”
“I'm not going to use my gift. I want you to tell me.”
“I'm pissed, Ali. You told me that you'd ended it with the guy you were dating.”
“I did. But I didn't end it the way I should have, and I truly regret that. If I could change things, I would. Like I said in the club, I wanted to tell him in person that our relationship was over, but we could never seem to meet. One day morphed into two, and before I knew it, there he was, standing in the club and causing a scene.” She shook her head. “I ruined my meeting with your dad.”
PJ let out a deep breath. “So many thoughts ran through my mind when the dude stepped to you.”
Alexandria nodded. “Same here.”
PJ turned to her and looked into her eyes. “I can't express everything I'm feeling right now because my words won't do it justice, so I want you to look into my eyes and read what's there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She looked deep into PJ's brown eyes and then closed her own as she ran through all his thoughts and emotions in the matter of a nanosecond. What she saw made her hand tremble and her heart pound. She looked at him again and then sat silent for a few minutes.
“You know how I feel now?” PJ asked.
Alexandria nodded her head. What she'd thought was distance and anger was really overwhelming love, which he'd never known how to place until now. His mother's absence had always left an empty space in his heart, combined with a cautious reserve never to leave himself vulnerable in the hands of a woman. But when Peter approached her tonight and he thought she might be in danger, his only thought was of protecting her. Not just tonight, but from this day forward. He wanted to protect and provide for her: physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, financially, and in every other way that a husband would look out for his wife. He wanted a lifetime with her, and he wanted it to start tonight, right there on his couch.
PJ wrapped his arm around Alexandria's waist and pulled her to his lap, as he'd done the other night. “This is forever,” he whispered. “I love you, Ali.”
Alexandria smiled so widely, her cheeks hurt. In that moment, she gave herself permission to see just a tiny bit of life. She saw her grandparents young and happy, building a life together as a young couple, moving from their small town of Nedine to the growing city of Raleigh, where her grandfather would make his fortune, just as his father had done before him. She saw her mother and father, young and happy, holding her in their arms as they posed for a picture that Nana Elizabeth took after bringing her home from the hospital after she'd been born. And then she saw PJ and her holding their own baby, smiling, and happy, and in love.
“Speak what's in your heart. Say what it is that you want, and watch it walk into your life,”
she heard Grandma Allene whisper into her ear. Alexandria looked into PJ's eyes. “I love you, too. I want to be your wife, have your children, and spend a lifetime with you. I'm speaking what I want, and I can't wait to see it all come true.”
Alexandria put all the challenges that had been plaguing her mind behind her. She didn't think about the turmoil that her mother and PJ's father would endure eventually. She didn't worry about the difficulties she'd have controlling and maintaining her gift, and she even blocked out the eventual deception and betrayal people close to her would cause. Right now, she decided to live in the moment, claiming the joy and the love that were both in front of her as she kissed PJ softly and ushered in a future, which was starting now.
Epilogue
A
llene marveled at the modern wonders in front of her as she watched Victoria and Alexandria move about Victoria's spacious gourmet kitchen, which was half the size of her small home back in Nedine.
“Will you look at that,” Allene said in amazement. Her eyes widened as she studied the gleaming stainless steel microwave which sat above a matching double oven, all nestled inside the artistry of custom made cabinets. “Can't believe she heated up them potatoes so quick. That thing sure woulda come in handy back in my day when I was raisin' my family,” she chuckled as she shook her head and watched Victoria remove a casserole dish full of piping hot garlic mashed potatoes.
Allene still couldn't believe she was sitting at her great-granddaughter's kitchen table as if she were parked in front of her own. She'd traveled hundreds of miles and more than a half century in time in the blink of an eye, and she knew she had Susan Jessup to thank for it. Susan had bestowed upon her yet another precious gift—the ability to come to this new, modern time so she could continue to help guide her family.
Allene smiled as she smoothed her hand down the front of her long cotton skirt and took a deep breath, inhaling the savory aroma of the delicious food Victoria was cooking. She smiled, feeling good, the way she usually did after hearing a good sermon at church or eating a slice of Henrietta's delicious pound cake. But her smile and good feeling quickly took a back seat to the trouble that was brewing.
“So?” Alexandria said, looking at her mother as she transferred pieces of rosemary herbed chicken from a baking dish to a serving platter.
“What?” Victoria responded.
“C'mon, Mom. What happened between you and PJ's dad the other night?”
Victoria removed her jeweled studded apron and smoothed down the front of her stylish pencil skirt, just as her great-grandmother had done. “There's nothing to tell. Parker walked me to my car and then I drove back home.”
“That's it?”
Victoria let out a sigh. “Yes, that's it. What? . . . are you reading my mind or something?”
“No, I'm not. Why do you ask?”
“Because you're questioning me like you don't believe me.”
“Mom, it's not that I don't believe you. I just have a feeling that I can't explain. A feeling that something else is going on.”
Victoria leaned against the sink, bit her bottom lip and then shook her head. “I don't believe this is happening. Not again.”
“What're you talking about?” Alexandria asked.
“Let's have a seat.”
Even thought Allene knew they couldn't see her, she sat perfectly still as Victoria and Alexandria sat at the table, each woman flanking her on either side.
“I caught Mr. Brightwood's slip of the tongue.”
Victoria nodded.
“Did you plan to meet at the club?”
“No, I was just as surprised to see him as you probably were. But I did talk to him the day before. He called me.” She chuckled. “That's the one thing about running a successful business. Your phone number never changes.”
“Mom, I'm not going to press you, or try to jump up in your business. I'm just worried about you because I can't shake the feeling that there's going to be trouble ahead.”
Allene wished she could intervene, but she knew she couldn't. At least not now. She was all too aware that the time would come when she needed to step in. Deep down, she hoped it wouldn't come to that. But if it was one thing she knew for sure, it was that nothing was certain and life was full of mystery.
“What kind of trouble do you sense?” Victoria asked.
“It involves you and PJ's dad.”
“I figured that. What I mean is . . .” Victoria bit her bottom lip as her words trailed off.
“You want to know if you're going to have an affair with him?” Alexandria said.
Victoria rose from her chair. “Forget I asked. Let's finish getting this food ready. Your father will be walking through the door any minute.”
Alexandria nodded without saying a word. She tucked away the answer to her mother's question, deciding to enjoy a meal with her family while they were all still happy.
“She's smart,” Allene said to herself as she looked at Alexandria. “As I always say, there's no need to fight the devil on an empty stomach.”
A READING GROUP GUIDE
LOOKING FOR TROUBLE
 
 
 
Trice Hickman
 
 
 
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
 
The questions that follow are included to enhance your group's reading of this book.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
I hope these discussion questions help to enhance your book club experience, or your own personal reading enjoyment. I love meeting with book clubs, so if you'd like me to join your club's discussion, please email me at [email protected], and we'll make it happen!
1.
Do you believe people can possess the gift of prophesy? If no, why not? If yes, do you know anyone or have you ever heard of anyone who possesses this unique ability?
2.
This story fuses the past with the present. What similarities did you see between what was happening to the characters in Nedine in relation to the characters in present day Atlanta?
3.
The issue of skin color and class were very much a part of southern culture in the black community during John's and Elizabeth's day. Do you think those stereotypes and views still exist? To what degree can you see that things have changed?
4.
If you could have dinner with one character and ask them anything you'd like, who would it be and what unanswered question would you ask them?
5.
Who was your favorite character and why? Who was your least favorite character and why?
6.
Allene and Alexandria were both afraid of their gift and had to grow into embracing who they were. What events in the story do you think would have turned out differently for them had they used their gifts earlier in life?
7.
John and Elizabeth, as well as Alexandria and PJ, experienced instant connections that resonated beyond the physical, and blossomed into love very quickly. What is your position on “love at first sight” connections?
8.
Victoria and Parker never got over each other. What type of relationship do you see them having as a result of their children's involvement?
9.
Alexandria is discovering the boundaries of what her gift will allow her to do. What kinds of problems can you see that might arise from the abilities she's already demonstrating?
Don't miss
The Player & the Game
The latest novel in Shelly Ellis's
Gibbons Gold Digger series—available now at
your local bookstore!
Chapter 1
(Unwritten) Rule No. 3 of the Gibbons Family Handbook:
Never give a man your heart—and definitely never give him
your money.
 
 
 
B
usy, busy, busy,
Stephanie Gibbons thought as she hurried toward her silver BMW that was parallel parked in the reserved space near her office. Her stilettos clicked on the sidewalk as she walked. Her short, pleated skirt swayed around her hips and supple, brown legs with each stride.
She shouldn't have gone to the nail salon before lunch, but her French manicure had been badly in need of a touch-up. Unfortunately, that slight detour had thrown off the entire day's schedule and now she was running ten minutes late for the open house.
The spring day was unseasonably warm, but it was tempered by a light breeze that blew steadily, making the newly grown leaves flutter on the numerous maples lining Main Street in downtown Chesterton, her hometown. The breeze now lifted Stephanie's hair from her shoulders and raised her already dangerously short skirt even higher.
She adjusted the realtor name tag near her suit jacket lapel, casually ran her fingers through her long tresses, and reached into her purse. She pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed her assistant's number. Thankfully, the young woman picked up on the second ring.
“Carrie, honey, I'm running late . . . Yes, I know . . . Are you already at the open house?” Stephanie asked distractedly as she dug for her keys in her purse's depths. “Are any buyers there yet? . . . OK, OK, don't freak out. . . . Yes, just take over for now. Put out a plate of cookies and set the music on low. I'll be there in fifteen minutes . . . I know . . . I have every confidence in you. See you soon.”
She hung up.
With car keys finally retrieved, Stephanie pressed the remote button to open her car doors. The car beeped. The headlights flashed. She jogged to the driver's-side door and opened it. As she started to climb inside the vehicle, she had the distinct feeling of being watched.
Stephanie paused to look up, only to find a man standing twenty feet away from her. He casually leaned against the brick front of one of the many shops on Main Street. He was partially hidden by the shadows of an overhead awning.
He looked like one of many jobless men you would find wandering the streets midday, hanging out in front of stores because they had little else to do and nowhere else to go. Except this bored vagrant was a lot more attractive than the ones she was used to seeing. He also was distinct from the other vagrants in town because she had seen him several times today and earlier this week.
Stephanie had spotted him when she walked into the nail salon and again as she left, absently waving her nails as they dried. He had been sitting in the driver's seat of a tired-looking Ford Explorer in the lot across the street from the salon. Though he hadn't said anything to her or even looked up at her as she walked back to her car, she had the feeling he had been waiting for her.
She had seen him also on Wednesday, strolling along the sidewalk while she had been on her date with her new boyfriend, Isaac. The man had walked past the restaurant's storefront window where she and Isaac had been sitting and enjoying their candlelit dinner. When Stephanie looked up from her menu and glanced out the window, her eyes locked with the stroller's. The mystery man abruptly broke their mutual gaze and kept walking. He disappeared at the end of the block.
The mystery man had a face that was hard to forget—sensual, hooded dark eyes, a full mouth, and a rock-hard chin. He stood at about six feet with a muscular build. Today, he was wearing a plain white T-shirt and wrinkled jeans. Though his short hair was neatly trimmed, he had thick beard stubble on his chin and dark-skinned cheeks.
“Are you following me?” Stephanie called to him, her open house now forgotten.
He blinked in surprise. “What?” He pointed at his chest. “You mean me?”
“Yes, I mean you!” She placed a hand on her hip. “Are you following me? Why do I keep seeing you around?”
He chuckled softly. “Why would I be following you? Lady, I'm just standing here.”
He wasn't just standing there. She sensed it.
“Well, this is a small town. Loitering is illegal in Chesterton. You could get arrested!”
“It's illegal to stand in front of a building?” Laughter was in his voice. He slowly shook his head. “We're still in America, right? Last time I checked, I was well within my rights to stand here, honey. Besides, I'm not panhandling. I'm just enjoying the warm sunshine.” His face broke into a charming, dimpled smile that would have made most women's knees weak. “Is that a crime?”
Stephanie narrowed her eyes at him warily.
She didn't like him or his condescending tone. He was attractive, but something emanated from him that made her . . . uncomfortable. It made her heartbeat quicken and her palms sweat. She wasn't used to reacting to men this way. Usually her emotions were firmly in control around them, but they weren't around this guy. She didn't like him one bit.
“If . . . if I catch you standing here when I get back, I'll . . . I'll call the cops,” she said weakly.
At that, he raised an eyebrow. “You do that,” he challenged, casually licking his lips and shoving his hands into his jean pockets. Defiantly, he slumped against the brick building again.
Stephanie took a deep breath, willing her heart to slow its rapid pace. She climbed into her car and shut the driver's-side door behind her with a slam. She shifted the car into drive and pulled off, watching him in her rearview mirror until she reached the end of the block. He was still standing in front of the building, still leaning under the shadows of the awning, still looking smug as she drove to the end of Main Street and made a right.
Finally, she lost sight of him.
 
“Shit,” Keith Hendricks muttered through clenched teeth as he pushed himself away from the brick building once he saw the taillights of Stephanie Gibbons's BMW disappear.
“Shit,” he uttered again as he strode across the street to his SUV, pausing to let a Volkswagen Beetle drive by.
Though he had played it cool in front of her, he had started to sweat the instant Stephanie's eyes had shifted toward him.
He was getting sloppy. He had decided to get out of his car and walk near her office to try to get a better vantage point, to see if her boyfriend, Isaac, was going to meet her here today. But Keith hadn't counted on her noticing him standing there. More importantly, she had noticed
and
recognized him from the other occasions that he thought he had been discreetly tailing her and Isaac. It had been a mistake, a rookie mistake that wasn't worthy of the four years he had spent as a private investigator.
“You messin' up, boy,” he said to himself as he opened his car door, climbed inside, and plopped on the leather seat. He shut the door behind him and inserted his key into the ignition.
But he had to admit he was out of practice. This was his first real case in months.
He had been eager to accept this one, to sink his teeth into something meaty. He had been tired of the busy work that had filled his days for the past few months. Stokowski and Hendricks Private Investigators had been going through a bit of a dry spell lately. With the exception of this con artist case, they had been doing nothing but process serving for months, delivering summonses and subpoenas. When Keith left the ATF to start the PI business with retired cop and family friend Mike Stokowski four years ago, process serving wasn't exactly the exciting work he had had in mind. He had hoped things would pick up soon. Now they finally were, but this case had been complicated.
He had finally located Reggie Butler also known as Tony Walker
now
known as Isaac Beardan. The con artist and Casanova had left a trail of heartbreak and several empty bank accounts along the Eastern Seaboard. Each time Isaac moved on to his next con, he changed his name, his look slightly, and his story. It made him a hard guy to find.
One of the most recent victims from which Isaac had stolen thirty thousand dollars worth of jewelry had hired Stokowski and Hendricks PI to track him down. Keith had traced the smooth-talking bastard here, to the small town of Chesterton. Keith still wasn't sure though if Isaac worked alone on his cons. He didn't know what role his girlfriend, Stephanie Gibbons, played in it—if any. Hell, maybe Isaac had selected her as his next victim.
“Don't worry about her,” a voice in Keith's head urged as he pulled onto the roadway. “You finished your part of the case. You found him. You've got photos . . . documentation. The police can track him down now and press charges. That's all that matters.”
But was that all that mattered? Should he warn the new girlfriend about Isaac?
An image of her suddenly came to mind: her pretty cinnamon-hued face; the limber legs like a seasoned dancer that were on full display underneath her flowing, pleated skirt; and her full red glossy lips. He remembered the stubborn glare she had given him too, trying her best to intimidate him, but failing miserably.
“If you tell her the truth, she'll tell Isaac,” a voice in his head warned. “It'll put him on the run again. The authorities will never be able to track him down.”
Keith frowned as he started the drive back to his hotel. It was true. Isaac would know he had been found and only move on to the next place and start a new con. No, Keith couldn't tell her the truth about Isaac. He had worked too hard on the case to throw it all away now.
“Maybe she'll figure out he's full of shit by herself,” Keith murmured as he gazed out the car's windshield.
But he knew that wasn't likely. Isaac was well practiced at this game. He was a champion player. Keith doubted Stephanie Gibbons would be any different than any of the other saps Isaac had swindled.

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