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Let Me Love You
Linda Walters
No commitment, no strings, no promises… And then love got in the way!Skye Thompson's Miami getaway brought more than sun, sand and warm breezes–it led to steamy passion with no rules, no restrictions. Dr. Terrance Marshall was smart, sexy and the best medicine for a woman on the rebound. Their weekend ended on a goodbye kiss… and the unwanted complication of love.Terrance had a growing practice, a messy divorce and a child to put first. He was not sure how a future with Skye would fit into any of it. Different cities, separate lives… Could he really just settle for a few days of searing memories? Not a chance. Not if he could prove to Skye that loving him was worth the risk!



Let Me Love You
Linda Walters

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Contents
Acknowledgment
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23

Acknowledgment
I’d like to acknowledge all the folks who continually encourage and support my efforts to bring stories to light that somehow display the human spirit in its finest element. I truly believe that love is the answer.
Thank you to my family, my sisters, my nieces and nephews, and of course, to the many friends who have been there along the way. Donna Hill—you are my muse and my mentor.
Thanks especially to Nikki, Lance and Teylor, who guide me, encourage me, push me, elevate me and love me—you guys are the wings beneath my wings!!!!
And most importantly, thanks to the Lord above, whose presence is felt throughout my day 24/7, 365 days a year.
Blessings to all.
Love,
Linda Walters

Chapter 1
Skye Thompson picked up the ringing telephone, reached for a Form 1003 and began to take the necessary information which would ultimately lead to the purchase of a new home or result in one very disappointed client. The final decision would be up to her employer, the Bank for Residential Lending.
In the next forty-five minutes, she completed the application documents, ran the borrower’s credit and calculated the applicant’s debt-to-income ratios. After checking the incoming fax machine, Skye pulled off the bank statements that had been sent in and began to complete the necessary paperwork which would, hopefully, culminate in a complete file being turned in. She immediately recognized that the client had good credit, standardized pay stubs and bank statements which showed a substantial amount of assets, along with an acceptable amount of seasoning. There had been no large deposits, no unexplainable spikes or dips in the balances shown during the most recent months.
Skye breathed an audible sigh of relief as she acknowledged that the client qualified for more than one program. She also realized they would qualify for several of the low interest rate loans which they, as a first-time home buyer, would also benefit from. The phone rang again.
Skye picked it up after only two rings. “Skye Thompson, Bank for Residential Lending,” she said quickly, poised to reach for another application.
“Girl, how are you doing?”
The voice caught Skye off guard for a quick moment, then the familiar tone was recognized. They’d been best friends forever, starting with a double Dutch contest in the third grade. After challenging one another, they’d tied the contest in knots and became best friends from that day on. Even after Skye’s family had moved from New York to Atlanta, the friendship had continued.
Nita, as she’d been called since she turned sixteen, did not wait for an answer and continued speaking. “I know you’re busy, girl, but I had to call you. My crazed husband has just decreed an edict that all members of the wedding party are supposed to show up here on Friday of next week. Don’ask me what he’s up to. I just know that it will entail me cooking my butt off. I don’t know why I married him. On second thought, yes I do,” she said, then laughed deeply.
Skye joined her, their voices mingling, as the meaning behind the unspoken washed over them both. The joke worked in more ways than one as there had been many occasions when Nita had referred to Branch as a very skilled lover. She claimed he made all others before him look like amateurs. It didn’t hurt that he was also her soul mate.
Skye had been Nita’s only bridesmaid, with her older sister, Monica, serving as the maid of honor. Skye’s memory of the day only two months earlier, when Nita and Branch had pledged their love for one another in a beautiful ceremony, was still fresh. The small church had been filled with family and friends from both sides of the couple.
It would have been difficult to imagine anyone in the wedding party being happier for Nita than Skye. Marriage was something they’d both talked about, dreamed about and fantasized about all throughout their years of growing up. Many times, they’d even discussed planning a double wedding. When Nita announced her engagement to Branch, Skye’s happiness for her was bittersweet with the knowledge that she would not be joining her best friend as she walked down the aisle as a bride. It took a minute, then Skye realized that she was genuinely happy for Nita. Her time would come. She was sure of it though she couldn’t put her finger on who, what, when and where.
“I’m up to my ears in work, girl, but you know I’ll be there. Should I bring anything? And just what is the occasion this time?” Skye asked, laughter in her voice. She knew that neither Nita or Branch really needed an excuse for a gathering. They both loved people, including friends and relatives, as much as they loved one another.
“Don’t ask. And, no, you don’t have to bring anything. Just try and get here by next Friday evening—say about seven or seven-thirty. I think Branch felt badly about a couple of his friends not being able to attend the wedding so he’s doing the catch-up thing with the photos. They just came back from the photographer,” Nita added.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see them. How’d they come out?” Skye asked, her breath coming in a rush from the excitement she felt. It would be the first time she would get to see the new home in Fort Lauderdale that Branch and Nita had purchased. They’d moved in only two weeks after the wedding ceremony.
Her mind was also still concentrating on figuring out what pieces of information might be missing from the file she was putting together. Daniel Drake, the branch manager, always seemed to find something she hadn’t thought of which would be necessary before a file was acceptable for submission.
“Girl, they are gorgeous. With the exception of one or two, they all came out perfectly. Of course, Lorenzo can mess up anything at any time. How many times did we have to tell that boy to look straight ahead?” she said, referring to her husband’s younger brother. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was looking down Monica’s dress in a couple of the pictures,” Nita added, laughing.
Skye sat back in her chair and laughed, too. “Girl, you are too much. Lorenzo seems to have a one-track mind, but Monica was way ahead of him. She probably knew what he was up to and was just taunting him.”
“Oh, you are so right. That would be just like her. Anyway, I’ll let you go. See you next Friday night—use our travel agent again. She can get you a special deal on the flights. I’ll e-mail you her information right now.”
“Okay. I’ll do it right now, before I move on to the next thing in the pile on my desk. Then I’ll e-mail you with the flight’s information.”
“Good. Just be sure to get there before seven o’clock. We’re doing to dinner and I don’t want you to be late,” Nita added as she hung up.
Skye almost gave her standard retort, “Then it wouldn’t be me,” but instead placed the receiver in the cradle. She then began recalculating the debt-to-income ratios of her latest clients and finished the work necessary for the file to be submitted to underwriting. Her day moved forward quickly and before she knew it, the clock read six forty-five.
Dreading the traffic ahead of her on Memorial Drive, Skye delayed leaving the office.
Skye checked her e-mail, called the travel agency which Branch and Nita had an account with and booked her round-trip ticket.
After sending an e-mail to Nita, she repacked her briefcase and headed toward the elevators. Her car was parked in the company parking lot and as she approached it, her mind once again returned to the conversation she and Nita had shared earlier. Skye smiled, knowing the weekend would be a good change of pace for her. Lately, she’d given up on clubs and the local watering holes which only seemed to feature the same faces and even clichéd tactics.
Dating had offered some significant challenges right after college, with the pool of available men appearing to be inexhaustible. Now, some five years later, the novelty had worn off and the whole thing seemed to be one huge joke.
She’d stopped going out on occasional dates which seemed a test of her people-handling skills of late. The last time she’d had any kind of relationship was with Aldon Scott, co-owner of Triad, one of the largest title companies in Atlanta. That eight-month liaison ended when he disappeared for two weeks without a single phone call. Skye had been devastated when the truth behind his absence had come out…and the woman who she’d never known existed. Determined to put Aldon—and his double life—behind her, she immersed herself in work, decorating her apartment and selecting the pieces she wanted to pull the condo together. She refused to answer his phone call some three weeks later.
Sometimes, you have to give a brother the “Forget my name, number and information” act, she reasoned and vowed to never again speak to him again. When she heard he’d gotten married some months later after getting his assistant pregnant, it only confirmed her stance, making her even more committed to putting her career on the fast track.
The corporate offices of the Bank for Residential Lending were located on the fourteenth floor of a building on Peachtree Street which had been recently renovated. The marble and glass lobby, topped by an exquisitely ornate atrium ceiling, had been painstakingly brought to life incorporating Old World Federal style and New World elegance. She loved the feel of the building with its light airiness, and its corporate atmosphere. Daily, it buzzed with the best and brightest that the booming city of Atlanta, Georgia had to offer.
Skye’s five-foot-six-inch frame, shoulder-length hair and milk-chocolate skin often caused heads to turn. She had grown accustomed to the double take which sometimes preceded the approach of total strangers but never understood the reaction she seemed to cause. She often wondered what the fuss was all about.
Skye didn’t realize that her curvaceous body, her flawless skin and her sensuous lips were a drawing card. In her mind, it was all just part of an average-looking existence.
On most business days, Skye wore her hair pulled back into a tight knot and found it annoying when her hairdresser insisted on blowing it out. It seemed to draw too much attention in Skye’s mind, so she would wait until she arrived home, secure it with one of the many ponytail bands she owned and once again feel in control. In Skye’s world, control was a very important element.
She loved her work as a mortgage banker. It satisfied a need to help others that had been ingrained in her by her mother, Lillian Thompson, years before she’d moved to Atlanta.
Lillian Thompson had been a practical nurse in one of New York City’s fastest growing metropolitan hospitals. She’d seen it all in her time there. Everything from hopelessness, violent crime, domestic abuse and people dying of AIDS had been her constant reality for the thirty-three years she worked there.
Now, as Skye headed for the apartment she’d recently purchased in an eight-unit building, she thought of her mother and made a mental note to call her, realizing she was due in from a trip she’d taken to Arizona. Travel seemed to be the one thing that gave Lillian Thompson great enjoyment in her senior years. Thankfully, her health remained solid.
Skye drove quickly to her Stone Mountain neighborhood and pulled into her parking space. Rod’s space was empty and she wondered if he would be working late for the remainder of the week. He normally worked long hours and was also in the industry.
Mortgage broker of his own Federal Housing Administration–licensed shop, he did a sizable business in both conventional and government loans. Luckily, Skye represented one of his most frequently used lenders.
Skye knew that Rod’s insistence on her trying the industry out had been instrumental in her current success. She again thanked both him and the Lord. She knew it had been fate which had brought her to the building and to Rod.
In the beginning, when he’d first approached her, Skye figured he was trying to hit on her. His friendliness had caught her off guard, making it awkward at times when they ran into each other in the parking lot, or in the elevator.
It was only after he’d introduced himself, invited her over for a welcome to the neighborhood drink and she’d turned him down repeatedly, that he’d laughingly said, “Girl, you don’t have to worry—you’re safe with me. I’m not into fishing in my own pond,” he’d added, a huge grin on his face. Somehow, his sincerity was established with that one statement and Skye realized he was genuinely trying to be friendly. She relaxed for the first time since she’d moved into the complex and began to enjoy her stance as a new home owner, even if the home was a condominium.
In the ensuing months, they’d gotten together several times for impromptu dinners and sometimes even watched rented movies together. He’d never made a move on her.
Rod had a fantastic sense of design which was apparent by his use of color, texture and form throughout his three-bedroom, two-bathroom unit. Done in brown, beige, white with black accents throughout, it was warm yet elegant. He’d used distinctive African accents in the bathrooms and also in several of the prints which hung on the walls lining the hallway. Mocha-brown walls greeted you immediately upon entering the foyer which was accentuated by starkly framed black-and-white prints. White carpeting lined the hallway and covered the floors in both the living room and dining area.
Skye wondered how he kept it so clean and thought of her own single-bedroom apartment. In contrast, it was comfortable, but unremarkable. Her color palette ranged from pale blues, to an even paler palette of pastels. The one concession she’d allowed herself was to paint her bedroom a warm yellow. The stark white down-filled comforter and other white accents she’d pulled together made the room appear even larger than it was. She’d done the adjoining bathroom in the opposite color scheme with orange accents, leaving everything else stark white including the towels, rugs and shower curtain. A small bowl of tangerines occupied one corner of the countertop and a vase filled with eucalyptus tied with orange twine sat at the opposite corner. The fruit served a few purposes, reminding Skye each day to take her vitamins, eat plenty of fruits and vegetables and to live a healthful existence. The eucalyptus reminded her to live in the present and to appreciate each day for what it represented—another chance to live life to its fullest.
Three years before, Skye would not have been cognizant of any of these things. It had taken a life-threatening episode, advanced technology and an act of God to deliver her whole and resolved to move forward. One of the first things she’d done was to purchase the condominium she now lived in.
Renovation had taken more than six months. New kitchen cabinets carved from warm maple wood with brass accents lined both walls and the entire kitchen had been painted linen-white. Skye purchased light blue kitchen towels, a set of wooden canisters and decided to paint one wall a vibrant shade of blue.
When Rod saw what she’d done, he hugged her and shook his head. “I knew you had it in you, girl. This is good. Your decorating instincts are alive and well, which I suspected all the time. Now, we can pick out some other stuff whenever you’re ready. And you have to allow me to take you to some of my favorite haunts,” he added, grinning in triumph.
“Don’t get carried away. I still think that a funky look without all this coordinating is the way to go. I just painted the bedroom and the one wall in the kitchen ’cause I was bored,” she said, unconvincingly.
Rod looked at her, closed one eye and smiled seductively. “Yeah, and you don’t really expect me to believe that, now do you?”
Skye laughed then, knowing she’d never fully convince him of her lack of interest in something he loved passionately.
“Look, can we just change the subject? You’ll never admit that I don’t have a decorating bone in my body ’cause you want to believe otherwise. And that’s fine with me—as long as you don’t insist on my shopping at Linens ’n Things every week. How’re things going on the broker side of the industry?” she asked quickly.
“You know. It’s either feast or famine. I’m still working on getting the sales force to get their act together. They either chase the clients away with some of their tactics during the applications process, or they overload them with too much information. Either way, I find we have about a fifty-fifty pull through ratio. Everybody except Pablo. Now, that guy knows how to market himself and the loan programs.”
Rod laughed then and Skye joined him. Images of Pablo, who was tall, thin, handsome and well dressed, were present in both their minds, but for different reasons. Pablo appealed to Rod as the quintessential recruit. Although he knew him to be happily heterosexual, if ever there was a change, he wanted to be the first to know.
“I guess you need to identify what it is that Pablo does, bottle it and market it throughout the territory that your company is covering. Sounds like you need that winning formula,” Skye added then, wondering if anything like what she suggested had ever been tried.
“If it wasn’t so simple, it would be diabolical. You’re absolutely right—it just can’t be done. Every mortgage person acts from his own strengths and, let’s face it, his or her own weaknesses, as well. I don’t have to tell you that, though. You’ve become an expert.”
Rod’s reference to Skye’s success was delivered with pride. In his mind, he’d shown her the path and could take credit for that much, at least. Her continued ability to originate and close a substantial number of loans was totally her own, though.
“Look, I’ll always remember that your input made a terrific difference in my ability. I think of you daily whenever I’m faced with anything that offers resistance. I also recognize the personal insights you contributed from the time I entered the industry over two years ago right up to this very moment,” Skye said, without a hint of laughter in her demeanor.
Rod watched her, shook his head and then smiled slowly. “Don’t even try and play yourself, girl. You were ready from the moment I said go. Your instincts are good, your people skills are excellent and you took to the industry’s standards including programs, products, etc., like a duck to a pond. You’re a born mortgage professional. My only claim to fame is that I discovered you,” he added, grinning in triumph. “A distinct coup was staged the first day you walked through the door.”
Skye laughed and put an arm around him in a leisurely hug. His summation of her talent, her abilities and her knowledge of the industry made her feel accepted and accomplished. After what she’d gone through in the past few years, the feeling was a welcome one.
Now, as Skye headed for the building, she wondered just what Nita and Branch had up their sleeves. She walked in, checked her messages, then made an appointment for a wash and blow dry. The weekend seemed far away, but a girl could never go wrong with a clean head of hair.

Chapter 2
Terrance Marshall placed the phone into the cradle and waited. It took two minutes for it to ring again. He hesitated for another twenty seconds, his patience growing shorter by the moment. Contrary to his wishes, the phone continued to ring. Picking it up slowly, he spoke into the receiver quickly.
“Hello…” There was silence on the other end and his temper flared.
“If you’re not going to speak, you should stop wasting both your time and mine,” he said sternly, then placed the receiver into the cradle. He walked out of the room hoping to avoid what he knew would be a senseless exchange.
“Women…” he muttered under his breath. His instincts told him that his caller had to be Brianna. Who else would call him repeatedly, refuse to speak to him and hang up without saying a single word. He knew she was angry, and perhaps, rightfully so, but her anger was a moot point. Their marriage was over.
They’d tried their best to avoid divorce, but it hadn’t worked. In the scheme of things, too much time had lapsed as he’d avoided giving her honest answers to the questions she posed on a daily basis. There really were no clear-cut answers.
Besides, he’d learned long ago that honesty was overrated. They’d only been married for four years but in that time, they’d created something of beauty. Jacqueline. If it were not for their daughter, he’d have split long ago.
Terrance took off his tie, turned on the television and tried to figure out what he should do for dinner. Sorting through the many takeout menus he kept in a kitchen drawer, he decided to order in. He made the call, hung up and it rang immediately. “Here we go again,” he muttered under his breath.
Unable to stop himself, he cursed under his breath and barked into the receiver. “Yeah, what is it now?”
On the other end, Branch laughed, then said, “Man, didn’t your mama teach you to answer a phone any better than that?”
Terrance snorted, then breathed a sigh of relief. “Actually, you’d better be glad you said something ’cause my next comment would have been a solid insult. Someone’s been playing phone games since I walked through the door. I’m hungry and not in the mood for nonsense,” he added, then chuckled. “Guess you caught me at a bad time. What’s up, dude?”
“Not a thing. Just calling to save your tired life is all.”
“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you were the one who vowed to make amends for having missed the wedding. My bride has almost forgiven you, but you’ll have to do a lot more than apologize before you can enter my good graces again. Thought I’d let you know that next weekend is your redemption, buddy.”
“Do you want to explain yourself properly or do I have to revert to King’s English just to get you to spell it out for me?” Terrance knew his buddy was giving him a hard time and he also knew that no matter what, he’d end up on the short end of the stick. Branch usually had a way of making good on any promise he’d made and Terrance was sure this would be no exception.
“Okay, here it is, dude. Nita has invited all of the members of the wedding party for a fun-filled weekend here in Fort Lauderdale. The house can accommodate all of you, so it’s not a problem. Most are coming in on Friday evening, but some can’t get here until Saturday morning. No matter what, the party is kicking off Saturday evening. Be here or be square,” he said.
“Party, huh? And just what’s the party celebrating, may I ask?”
“Sure, you may ask, but I really am not in a position to answer. You’d have to ask Nita and she’s not really speaking to you right now. Her stance is the same as mine—be here or be square. Now, before you start making excuses, let me tell you that you missed a jamming party with our nuptials being the significant excuse for folks to act up. I don’t think this event will be any less intense, just significantly less formal,” Branch said, laughter in his voice.
“I see. It doesn’t sound like something I’d wish on my worst enemy but you may have caught me at a time of weakness. Okay, I’m in. I think I could use the getaway.” They talked for another five minutes, exchanged the pertinent information and then hung up.
Terrance’s statement, though brief, told Branch more than Terrance realized. In college, Terrance had always gotten the girl, dropped the girl, then sung a song of woe for the next week before hooking up with the next honey in line. Then, in his sophomore year, he’d met Zoie.
Sophomore year at Temple University had been tough. Declaring a major, keeping your grades above the basement level and establishing your coolness ratio were daunting tasks. Both Terrance and Branch had been dedicated to the cause. Avoiding the unwritten rules of college life was definitely a major part of the deal with the number one rule being no dating of freshmen.
Enter, Zoie. Temple’s freshmen class had a number of delectable entries but Zoie Anderson was noticed almost immediately. Tall, thin and shapely, sure of herself and extremely intelligent, Zoie exuded sensuality. When she walked into a room, heads turned. When she spoke out in class, students listened. And when she moved off campus, got an apartment with two other freshmen and it became part of the campus knowledge, it also became the stuff of which Temple University legends were made.
The two met on a rainy night at a noisy off-campus party that neither one really was enjoying. They left together and became instantly inseparable. In the next months, they were seen on campus together, off campus together, and if one was spotted without the other, the next question asked was, “Where is your copilot?” That lasted for the next two years. It seemed that Terrance had been taken off the available list by a freshman. There wasn’t anything anybody could do about it. Not even him.
He wasn’t able to explain it, couldn’t seem to stop it and was powerless to change her influence on him. She commanded his attention, his concentration and most of all, his loyalty. It was a different kind of existence for him coming from a family which had been functionally inadequate. Terrance was unaccustomed to having to give answers on his whereabouts from the time he’d turned twelve. No one ever thought to ask, “Where are you going and how long will you be gone?”
Unbeknownst to him, that information had suddenly become common fodder for a daily planner which Zoie kept in her locked duffel bag. By the time Terrance realized he’d become the pet rock of a freshman zookeeper, it was too late. Precedents had already been set, limitations already established. Oddly, it felt right.
It was fine for a while. Actually, it was lovely for a long time with quiet walks in the park, movies when they could afford it and lovemaking at any time the notion hit them. That is, until the day when the blinders were lifted after he decided to try having an in-depth conversation with a graduate student about the coming election of a new city council leader. Zoie walked in on them sitting at a conference table in study hall and had a midday meltdown. The fact that the girl was an unknown entity, a sophisticated upperclassman killed the deal—at least for Zoie. She assumed, correctly, that an upperclassman would possess the ability to outrank, outclass and outmaneuver her.
Terrance was still under the misguided impression that he could handle things, so the young couple continued to see each other even after the initial crack in the relationship’s exterior. Originally enrolled as a science major, Terrance realized his real passion was medicine at around the same time as Zoie’s freak-out. He switched majors but tried, unsuccessfully, to remain consistent with his dating partner.
Six months later when Zoie saw him with the same female student as before, she showed up at his dorm room armed with a can of spray paint, an armful of flyers and proceeded to paint her way into Temple University history.
She spray painted obscenities, accusations about his masculinity and several badly spelled expletives all across the campus, concentrating her efforts at Xenon Hall where he shared a room with an economics major from Buffalo.
Then she proceeded to cross the campus from one end to the other stapling posters to each tree or any other standing element which would allow punctures. She also covered many of the existing billboards. The flyers contained a photo of Terrance with the word “PLAYER” sprawled across the front and a huge red line through his picture.
Needless to say, the incident curtailed his dating efforts for the remainder of his tenure at the school. His name had become part of the public consciousness on Temple University’s main campus. Ironically, Zoie’s legacy included being called up on charges by the school’s administration and a psychiatric evaluation. She quietly left Temple soon after and returned to Pittsburgh, her hometown.
Now, looking back on it, he wondered if he hadn’t had that experience, if things would have turned out differently.
After being dateless for a full year, he’d met Brianna. Determined to take his time getting to know her, it dawned on him pretty quickly that they had more in common than not. The fact that he’d never noticed her, although she was in his graduating class, stunned him. That she also came from the Caribbean pleased him, although he’d always wondered what Trinidad had on his home, Paradise Island.
Aside from being several times the size of the Bahamas and reportedly one of the wealthiest islands in the Caribbean, Trinidad’s existence had never posed any real interest for him. Suddenly, he found it important to know as much as he could.
Small, petite with coal-black hair, Brianna was pretty with an added touch of exotic flair. She also possessed both the talent and brains to become a top-notch M.D. Terrance was immediately struck by the reality that she was different from anyone he’d ever met before. Although she studied a great deal and partied very little, she still managed to be more fun than many of the party animals he knew. Something about her inspired confidence, a quality he found refreshing. Ironically, on their second date, he began calling her Bree without knowing her entire family did, too.
They were married one year after graduation. Brianna passed the examinations necessary to become a registered nurse in the Bahamas and they set up housekeeping there. Around the same time, Terrance finished up his premed courses and entered into an internship with Nassau Medical Center, a state-of-the-art hospital which had only been built three years before. They were owned in part by a medical conglomerate located in the United Kingdom.
They’d discussed Brianna’s change of heart about becoming a doctor many times. Terrance did his best to convince her that it was still possible, but she no longer felt it was necessary.
“One doctor in the house is enough. I’ll continue in nursing. It’s fine,” she’d said.
The marriage was solid for the first year and a half. Then all hell broke loose. It started with small things, then mushroomed as each month passed. Brianna complained incessantly about every birth-control product on the market. Everything from bloating, headaches, dizziness and real or imagined weight gain plagued her.
Terrance attributed much of the complaints to her not wanting to take the Pill; hence he concluded she wanted to be pregnant. For some unfathomable reason, the thought of becoming a father bothered him. And the thought of Brianna becoming pregnant terrified him.
One Sunday afternoon, as Terrance polished his silver-gray BMW 535, Brianna walked outside, came around to him and put her arm around his waistline. Not one to be prone to intimate gestures in public, Terrance put down the cloth he was using, looked at her briefly and asked, “What gives?” He had already come to the realization that any uncharacteristic gesture from her usually meant that something was up.
“I think you might want to sit down for this,” she said softly, then took his hand and led him into the small house they’d leased for the past two years. As they both sat down on the dark green sofa which filled the den, she’d looked at him quickly then whispered, “I think I’m pregnant.”
Silence reigned supreme for the next moment as Terrance remained speechless.
“Well, say something,” she offered.
“I’m not sure I understand. You said you think. When will you know?” he asked quickly, not wanting to react before there was certainty.
“Well, I’m late and I took one of those home tests a little while ago. According to the test, I’m pregnant,” she ended, her face showing a mixture of emotions.
Terrance held his breath, took one of her hands into his and said slowly, “I thought we agreed we would wait.”
“I know but I can’t help it if it happened. I didn’t see you saying anything at the time it was occurring, so don’t start now,” she snapped, then jumped up and ran into the bedroom.
Terrance continued to sit in the same spot for the next twenty minutes, unable to go to her. A baby would change things, that much he was certain of. They’d barely made a dent in the mountain of bills they’d each brought to the marital table, not to mention the student loans they each carried. His concern was strictly practical although he also wondered if he possessed the parenting skills necessary to produce a well-rounded human being. As the sun went down, that thought plagued him as he washed, waxed and buffed both of their vehicles. He focused on the task at hand, not allowing his mind to acknowledge any of the thoughts which threatened to break through.
By the time he came back inside, Brianna had dinner on the table and seemed to have also put the exchange behind her. Two days later, the test results were confirmed by her physician. A baby was on the way.
Meanwhile, Terrance avoided the discussion, avoided his wife and did his best to ignore the obvious. Although Brianna hadn’t brought the subject up again, he recognized that the longer it took for them to hash out their differences, the more entrenched she would be when the time finally arrived. And so, from the start, he knew that his stance was a moot point.
Brianna went through the nine months of pregnancy without incident, but the couple had already suffered a crushing blow. They spoke rarely and discussed things pertinent to the baby only when necessary. The irony of it was that once Brianna gave birth to their daughter, Jacqueline, the feud was inexplicably over.
As soon as he held his daughter in his arms for the first time, Terrance realized he had never known unconditional love. What he felt for the bundle within his arms was and would probably always be unsurpassed by anything he felt for anyone else on the planet.
Months passed, but Brianna never forgave him. And he never forgave himself for second-guessing Jacquline’s entry into the world.
The doorbell rang then, breaking Terrance’s thought pattern. A dinner of brown stewed chicken, steamed vegetables and salad was delivered from a local restaurant he’d called. Terrance ate slowly while watching the evening news. His mind was still on the conversation with Branch.
He also wrote out a check for the monthly child support, then went online to make a round-trip airline reservation to Fort Lauderdale.
Branch’s statement stayed with him and he wondered when, if ever, he’d be done with playing catch-up to all the people he owed some form of consideration to. He’d been alone for the past months, but felt good about it. Twice monthly weekend visits with his daughter kept him going and for that much, he was grateful. He’d always wondered why couples fought so bitterly for child custody when they could more easily share the burdens and joys. It simply made sense to him.
With that thought, Terrance picked up the phone and dialed. Brianna answered on the second ring and he took a deep breath before speaking.
“Hi—it’s me.”
“Hello, Terrance—Jacqueline is asleep already,” she responded, shortly.
“Have I gotten you at a bad time?” He wanted to ask why she sounded so winded, then caught himself. It was no longer his business what she did, when she did it and with whom. So he just waited for her to respond to his question as asked.
“I was exercising. Listen, can you call back tomorrow night, but before eight o’clock? I try to get her into bed by then or otherwise, it’s a fight to get her up in the morning.”
“Yeah, I know she’s not a morning kid, at least not yet,” he said, wanting to lighten the conversation. What he really wanted to do was to talk to her, but he sensed she was not willing to engage in that kind of exchange, so he continued to hold the phone in his hand, wondering why on earth he was feeling so melancholy.
“I don’t know that she’ll ever be. Kids just need more sleep. Anyway, I’ll let her know that you called. She gets excited whenever your name is mentioned.”
Terrance smiled then and relaxed a little. “Does she? So, she’s still Daddy’s little girl, hmm?” He couldn’t help himself. The thought of Jacqueline’s face when she smiled almost broke his heart, but he’d already done his crying, already had his meltdown and now was not the time to revisit that place.
“Absolutely, but isn’t that always the way? Mommy gets to do all the hard work and Daddy gets all the glory. It’s a story that’s as old as time,” Brianna ended, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice.
Terrance figured it was time to end the conversation then, knowing he was in no mood to hear charges of recriminations or to have a guilt trip laid at his feet.
“Well, I’ll keep the eight o’clock slot in mind and be sure to call before then from now on. You take care of yourself, Bree,” he added, wondering why she’d hung up on him before.
“You, too. And I will remember to tell her that you called,” she added. She wanted to say more but something stopped her.
They both hung up then, aware that there were things left unsaid, but grateful that they had been able to leave it that way.
Terrance showered, turned the radio to his favorite jazz station, killed the lights and got into bed. Just before he closed his eyes, the thought of Jacqueline’s smile entered his mind.

Chapter 3
Days later, the weather forecast for the entire peninsula of Florida was ominous. On Thursday, Tropical Storm Charley was off the shore of Florida and it looked like it could be upgraded to a category four storm.
After carefully deliberating the wisdom of traveling under such conditions, Skye was en route to Atlanta’s Hartsfield Airport. In the end, it was still out at sea and she decided to take the chance that it wouldn’t hit. She’d wrapped up all the loose ends on several loan applications she’d been working on, changed her voice mail, notified her assistant of any possible emergency contingencies and left detailed instructions on how to handle each scenario. She was also reachable by both cell phone and BlackBerry. Current technology left nothing to chance.
Skye breathed a sigh of relief as the cab stopped at the central terminal building of the sprawling airport. All during the ride, she’d listened as the driver’s radio blasted an ominous weather forecast.
The cabbie shook his head, his corduroy shirt seeming to suggest that milder temperatures were just around the corner. Skye wondered if he realized it was sixty degrees.
“Storms like this one seem to keep happening this year,” he said, his voice filled with something close to awe and curiosity. Even though he never took his eyes from the road, Skye could still hear the mixed emotions coming from the driver’s statements. It was apparent by his voice that he, too, was less than thrilled about the current forecast.
“Yeah, this is the third time we’ve been under a tropical storm watch in less than two months. Fort Lauderdale hasn’t been hit hard but I’m still worried. Do you think the flight schedules will be affected?” she asked quickly. She’d thought of canceling the trip, then realized that weather prediction was still an uneven science. There was a chance that the storm would never reach the United States, much less Florida.
“You’ll see in a minute. If you want me to wait, I will,” he added, turning suddenly to reveal a lopsided grin.
Skye thanked him and reached into her wallet for the fare. She knew that he was being considerate in his offer.
“I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
The departures level of the airport was bustling with travelers being dropped off, bags being checked and traffic tied up by all the comings and goings. Skye was able to check her bags in at curbside, confirm that the flight was slated on time and hurry back to the cab, leaving a healthy tip. She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him pull off, knowing that the trip could have been cancelled or possibly delayed by the weather front which threatened the southeast corridor of the country, but instead, she’d been spared—thus far.
Skye fell asleep as the flight became airborne and did not wake until the captain announced the plane’s final descent into the Fort Lauderdale airport.
Nita waited at the curbside as Skye exited the airport. Waving frantically, she laughed as her best friend approached, one single piece of luggage in tow.
“Girl, what took you so long?”
“When I called you from the cell phone, I hadn’t gotten down to the baggage carousel yet. Little did I know it would take another fifteen minutes for them to unload the plane and for the luggage to circulate,” she added, hugging Nita fiercely.
“Well, let me see what you’ve got going on, girl,” Nita laughed. She stepped away from Skye, did an exaggerated once-over and then smiled approvingly.
“Yep—you’ve still got it together alright. That’s what I figured. You’re probably scaring the men off at this point,” she said as they both got into Nita’s four-year-old Honda Accord.
“Now, you need to stop. You don’t look half-bad yourself,” she returned, giving her friend a long, exaggerated stare that took in her sleek ponytail, skin-revealing halter top and cropped white pants. Red lizard sandals picked up the stripes of the halter top and Skye remembered that they both shared a love of fashion.
“Look, girl. You know there are lots of tired men on the planet—at least the last time I checked,” Skye continued. “If a woman looks good, has her stuff together and knows how to earn a living equals a scary thing, then so be it. I’m tired of making excuses for people,” she added, then sat back into the seat and fastened the seat belt.
Nita watched her, began to laugh, caught herself, then started the car and pulled out into the traffic.
“Girl, you’re right, but you’ve also got to admit that we’re living in a different age. Men are still a hot commodity. Why do you think most women want one? The average brotha doesn’t know how to respond to a serious, responsible female or to a relationship that’s going to make them accountable.”
“Point made. So, what was your secret? How did you and Branch make it through the foolishness that seems to accompany dating?”
Anita thought for a moment but continued to keep her eyes on the roadway. As she approached the airport exit signs, she turned to Skye with a perplexed look on her pretty face.
“Honestly, hon, I don’t really know. I just know that we were both not trying to play any games. Branch took one look at me behind the library’s information counter and that was it. He asked me out and I said no. But he kept coming back for the next two weeks and each time he’d ask me out again. Finally, I gave in. He had no idea I was set to graduate with honors from the program I was enrolled in, hadn’t a clue that in six months I would be an X-ray technician, but he pursued me anyway. I just think it was fate. We laugh about it all the time,” she said, now turning to look at Skye with a grin on her face. “Nova Southeast University gave me just what I needed,” she added proudly.
“Wow, look at you. You’re still beaming and the honeymoon was more than two months ago. I’m happy for you, Nita. I really am.” Skye realized with that statement that she was feeling a little sorry for herself. She also knew it was not the right time for that kind of reflection. The weekend was to be a tribute to the happy couple, a revisiting of the day they’d joined hands and hearts. It was inappropriate to point out how miserable she’d become, or how disappointing the quest for a solid love life really was.
“The storm has me a little concerned, though. What’s the latest weather forecast?” Skye’s face showed genuine concern and Nita realized she’d probably given the storm a lot of thought.
“Honestly, we’re keeping watch on it and hoping it will either lose strength or move in a different direction. Look, just relax and enjoy yourself this weekend. Branch has some fun things planned and the house will be overrun with some great people, including many of those who were at the wedding and some who were not. Don’t worry, we should be fine.”
“Okay—it’s just that lately, these storms are so unpredictable. I’ll try my best to take your advice—at least we’re all in the company of good friends.” Skye found herself reassuring both herself as well as Nita.
“You know, sometimes I worry about you, thinking that your job takes too much energy and concentration. You need something you can forget about as soon as you walk through the door at night. That, and a good man to take your mind off the day’s frustrations would put you in the right frame of mind,” she added, a mischievous grin on her face.
“Yeah, well, when you find the two-legged creature that can fill that bill, please let me know. I haven’t been on a date in more than three months, by choice,” Skye commented, shaking her head.
Nita and Skye both broke into laughter then, knowing they probably sounded like two frustrated dilettantes.
“Remember when we used to actually screen guys before our dates? We never let them know if we liked them, and didn’t even care if they really liked us or not. All we were interested in at that time was dinner, a movie and possibly a good-night kiss. Anything more was scandalous. Then, about sophomore year, things changed. That’s when all hell broke loose,” Anita laughed.
“You’re right. But tell me more about who will be there this weekend. I’m trying to live in the present, not dwell on the past. You said some interesting things back there about the other folks you guys invited. Anyone I don’t know? Anyone I should be trying to get to know?” There would not be a dull moment during the coming weekend, that much she was sure of.
“Girl, you haven’t changed one bit. Sure, there’ll be one or two in attendance that you’ve probably missed meeting somehow, but don’t worry. Everyone we invited this weekend is either one of Branch’s tightest posse, or an old homey of mine you somehow never got the opportunity to meet. Either way, they’re all good people. Relax.”
Skye watched her best friend as she operated the car expertly through the crowded streets of Fort Lauderdale and marveled at the change in Nita’s personality. She was still Nita, only calmer, more sure of herself. Her tactfully delivered statement had included just the right touch of assertiveness and caring.
Watching her, Skye wondered if marriage had a similar effect on all people. Then she wondered if she’d ever get the opportunity to find out.
Anita pulled into the driveway of the sprawling ranch home just as the front door was opening. Branch walked out, turned around and continued talking with two other guys who were following him. Skye recognized Lorenzo, Branch’s younger brother, immediately. He’d matured since the last time she’d seen him and she wondered if the mustache he’d grown had anything to do with the change in his appearance. Although he was just graduating from college, he was definitely fine and Skye watched him as he walked toward the car, a huge grin on his face. Behind him walked another guy, obviously one of Branch’s friends, whom Skye had never met.
Lorenzo reached her, engaged her in a bear hug and Skye laughed as she begged to be set free.
“Man, you don’t know your own strength. And what’s that growing above your lip?”
“Hey, you know what this is, so don’t even try it. Damn, girl, you are looking good. If I didn’t know you were an older woman, I’d hit on you myself,” he said, laughing as he continued to embrace her. Meanwhile, the stranger looked on—no smile on his face, his eyes hidden by dark shades. He’d displayed a decidedly nonchalant stance and Skye wondered who he was.
Anita began to unload the car as Branch walked up, hugged Skye and helped her with the shopping bags she had in the car when she had picked up Skye from the airport. Branch gave Skye a quick once-over, hung his arm around his bride and smiled. “You still look exactly like all the photos Nita has of you from college. You haven’t changed at all,” he added.
Skye wasn’t sure if his statement was a compliment or simply an off-the-cuff remark, but decided it would be best to think positively.
“Thanks, Branch. I’m trying to work on my professional image but it’s so much easier to run around in jeans and loafers pretending to still be a collegiate,” she responded.
Branch grinned and shook his head. “You don’t have to pretend. You’re still as cute as you were in college. Hey, meet my right-hand man, Terrance.” Branch picked up some bags and headed toward the house, leaving Skye and Terrance in the midst of a quick introduction. Meanwhile, Lorenzo grabbed the rest of the bags and prepared to head toward the house, but stopped and looked back at Skye. She had met him at Nita’s wedding months before and he had developed something of a crush on her, although he acknowledged that she was totally out of his league.
At the moment, Skye’s senses were totally engaged with the man whom Branch had introduced as his right-hand man.
He appeared to be no-nonsense in character. His clothing suggested careful consideration, lots of money spent on the finest of fabrics and something else—self-confidence. A tobacco colored raw silk shirt topped off tan slacks. He hadn’t bothered to wear a belt, but his loafers were expensive, his expression guarded.
Terrance stepped forward, held out his hand and Skye took it with a businesslike grasp. He held it a few seconds longer than was necessary, then let it go with a smile. The warmth that transmitted was felt by both.
“Terrance Marshall,” he said, and though he never removed his sunglasses, Skye could feel his gaze on her face. It unnerved her because she realized she wanted to see his expression.
“Well, I’m glad we all made it this time,” Lorenzo said, then turned and walked back toward the house.
“Yeah, me, too. I mean, I haven’t seen you for a while so I’ll catch up with you later,” Terrance called out to him. He then turned his attention to the lovely creature standing next to him as she watched him with an unreadable expression. He could not ignore the signals she was unconsciously sending. The way she stood, the way she avoided making eye contact, even the fact that she remained silent although he was aware of her scrutiny, told him that she felt the same radar impulses he was getting.
Terrance suddenly grabbed the one suitcase left in the car’s trunk and turned to her. “Is this all you have?” His short-sleeved shirt revealed arms that were well muscled and sinewy. He was tall, maybe six feet two inches and built like an athlete. Skye took in his physique, his unspoken words and his pointed stare without comment. She knew trouble when she was in the midst of it.
“Yes. Thanks, but you don’t have to do that. I can roll it,” she offered.
“No, it’s okay. I want to. It’ll give me more time to get to know you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you at the wedding. My daughter came down with something and her fever spiked. I hated not to be there for Branch, but I just couldn’t leave town with her fever that high. It was a scary few days,” he added quickly.
“Oh, I had heard about that. Nita’s been talking about you for a long time now.”
She waited for him to respond, then thought maybe she’d said too much.
“Yeah, we’ve been buddies since college. Nita probably also told you that I’m the reason for his scandalous bachelor days, too,” he said with a questioning stare.
Skye ignored the comment. She figured he didn’t really expect an answer. Instead, she smiled. “Yes, I do seem to remember a few things, but you know how it goes.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit that if she’d known he was so fine, her memory would have definitely been sharper. At that moment, Skye planned to revisit the subject with Nita the first chance she got.
They entered the ranch-style house and Skye’s focus shifted. Branch and Nita had remodeled extensively in the past months. They’d painted, refinished the floors and modernized the kitchen and bathrooms. The four-thousand-square-foot ranch house was open, airy and contemporary, yet it offered expansive comfort to all who entered its doors.
“Come on in, girl,” Nita interrupted. “That sun and heat can get to you if you’re not used to it,” she added. “Here, let me show you to your room,” she said as she directed Terrance and Skye toward the back of the two-story structure.
“Four thousand square feet of casual elegance supported by functionality is what our design consultants describe it as,” Nita offered as they passed three bedrooms.
“Wow, that’s a lot of space,” Skye squealed as she passed the rooms and the adjoining bathrooms which lined the hallway.
“Branch was adamant when we looked for a house that it should be able to accommodate friends, family, whatever.”
“By family, I am assuming you’re referring to any children you two have. I know my man was not trying to encourage the onslaught of relatives that a five-bedroom house can summon,” Terrance offered, smiling.
“I’ll give you one thing—you definitely know my husband very well,” Nita laughed.
“You’re darned right I do, but that’s Husband 101—do not encourage the in-laws to move in,” he added.
Skye shook her head, then joined them in laughter. “No matter what or who comes to visit, this house is awesome,” she said, still looking around in wonder.
“Yes, it is, and I was just thinking the same thing about you,” Terrance suddenly whispered so that only Skye would hear. Nita had walked on toward the fourth bedroom and was chattering on about dinner being served at seven-thirty that evening.
His comment caught Skye off guard. She wasn’t sure how—or if—she should respond. She also wasn’t at all sure she wanted to. After all, this was a man whom she’d heard stories about from the time her best friend had met her newly acquired husband.
His reputation from his early college days was legendary and it spelled caution any way you looked at it. Temple University had been his stomping grounds. She realized that he could have very well kept his old habits intact. Some men never grew up, never relinquished their player cards. In her mind, the pending divorce Nita had mentioned was, in all likelihood, something to which he’d contributed wholeheartedly.
Terrance wheeled Skye’s suitcase just inside the doorway to the bedroom she would occupy and then quickly turned around, holding out his hand once more.
“It’s been extremely nice meeting you,” he said, clasping it warmly between his two hands for a brief moment, which somehow seemed to last far longer than was necessary.
“You, too. Looks like we’re almost roommates,” Skye added, nodding toward his room which was just across the hallway.
“Now that would be asking for way too much,” he said and walked toward the door. “But a guy can hope,” he added, laughing as Skye quickly closed her door. She was trembling as she leaned back against it. She closed her eyes and tried to gather her wits about her. He was only a man. But, what a man. His body, his face, his voice, his eyes, his shoulders and his walk all came together in her mind and Skye opened her eyes in an effort to try and regain her composure.
It was the first time she’d seen a room done in shades of red. The walls were red, the café curtains at the window were red and the framed prints lining the walls were all in red themes. The furniture, the bed’s comforter and the area rug which sat next to a black leather chair were stark white, lending both contrast and a feeling of extreme space.
Skye’s breathing slowed as she composed herself. She vowed to keep herself under better control for the remainder of the weekend, trying to ignore the fact that the object of her undoing was housed less than ten feet away.
She unpacked, brushed her teeth, changed her blouse and wondered if she’d make it through the next forty-eight hours. Then, she bravely made her way toward the huge living room where Nita, Branch and the rest of the weekend’s company had already assembled.
Nita’s younger sister, Monica, and her current boyfriend, Patterson, were seated on the long sectional sofa looking through the wedding photo album. Lorenzo was pouring drinks, and Branch’s cousin, Ellie, also had a separate book of photos she was engrossed in.
Skye walked into the room, was quickly reintroduced to everyone with hugs, kisses and small talk. It took her several seconds to realize that Terrance was nowhere in sight. It took another minute for her to admit her disappointment, even if it was only to herself.

Chapter 4
Terrance looked down at his cell phone, thought about turning it off and realized it was not an option. If anything happened to Jacqueline, if there was any type of emergency, he wanted to be available. The fact that this left him open to the possibility of Brianna’s constant monitoring, harassment and other displays of annoying behavior did not escape him. He left the phone on, turned the ringer off and prayed that he would not hear from the one woman in the world who could effectively ruin his day from more than three hundred miles away.
The past eighteen months had been a living hell, though he’d remained steadfast in his determination to move forward. The two-bedroom condominium he’d recently signed a contract to purchase was something he’d originally thought of as a temporary haven. After unpacking the essentials, establishing a fairly efficient way of doing things and coming to the conclusion that moving again would be too much of a hassle, he realized that he liked the easy access the apartment provided. Located in a newly renovated section of Nassau township where tourists were seldom found, it contained all new appliances, upgrades in the things that mattered and a sweeping view of a small coastal waterway. Many of his evenings were now spent having dinner alone on the tiny veranda just outside his living/dining room as he watched the boats enter and leave the small harbor in his view.
His everyday existence consisted of work, work and more work. Which was why he’d had no qualms or second thoughts when Branch issued the weekend invitation. At the moment, Terrance was doing his best to forget the face and body of the shorty now assigned to the room across the hall from him for the weekend. Still, her smile lingered in his thoughts. Something about her made him want to see her again and he found himself eager to rejoin the group for their first night of reminiscing.
Terrance checked his watch, noted the time and decided it wouldn’t hurt to change his shirt and freshen up a bit. Fort Lauderdale sunshine and heat were different from what he was used to experiencing in Nassau. The humidity of the Florida environment took getting used to, even for him. Just as he finished brushing his teeth, his cell phone vibrated. He looked at it, shook his head and reached for it.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Terrance. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” Brianna said, her breath coming in gasps.
“No, not at all. Is anything wrong?” Terrance’s pulse raced suddenly. He spit toothpaste into the sink, as adrenaline surged through his body. In the seconds that followed, he tried to tell himself that the call was probably just an unnecessary interruption, but he also realized that he stood frozen waiting for Brianna to answer his question.
“No, actually I just thought I’d call to give you some good news for a change.”
The voice on the other end of the phone suddenly sounded soft, sweetly feminine and decidedly friendly. Warning bells went off in his head and he looked at himself in the mirror. Suddenly, the whole episode seemed funny and he laughed, putting the toothbrush back into its case.
“And what would that be?” His relief was so thorough that he was caught off guard, feeling an immediate sense of relief, which was followed by an abrupt shift to curiosity.
“Oh, it’s just that Jacqueline has decided she wants to be just like her daddy and be a doctor. I thought it was the cutest thing. I also thought you’d get a kick out of hearing about it.” She laughed deeply, the intimacy of sharing their daughter’s dreams and hopes coming through in her voice.
Terrance joined her for a moment, then was brought back to present-day reality when he remembered that this was the same woman whose moods could change on a dime—and usually Terrance was the scapegoat.
The fact that their two-and-a-half-year-old daughter was still unable to speak coherently also made him realize Brianna’s statement had to be taken with a grain of salt.
In his mind, this was a woman who alternated between existences, never knowing what she really wanted or what she needed, especially when it came to him and their marriage.
Shortly after Jacqueline’s birth, Brianna had insisted that she return to work. They hadn’t really needed the money, but in the end, he’d agreed just to keep her from being miserable. As an emergency room nurse, the hours she’d picked up had taken them from simply getting by to doing very nicely. But he’d noticed a change in Brianna’s personality immediately and wondered if this was what he’d have to contend with forever. He’d also wondered if her behavior was the result of too much pressure, not enough support or just a lack of maturity. It hadn’t taken long for him to get an answer.
Daily complaints about not having enough time to be herself, not enough room to have any space and not enough air to breathe soon became a mantra. Brianna began staying out even when she wasn’t scheduled to work and often came in the following morning.
Terrance had attributed it all to stress, both on the job and in her new role as a mother. It wasn’t until he realized that they were no longer making love, no longer spending real time together and no longer communicating in any meaningful way that he began to suspect otherwise.
The arguments began including accusations, recriminations, denials and worst of all, threats which very often left him shaking his head in amazement. He’d never realized that she had been unhappy. In his mind, the baby had rounded out any rough edges the marriage had contained. In the arguments Brianna presented, their daughter’s birth had only served as a catalyst. Now, in her mind, she felt like her life, her identity and her youth were slipping away.
Terrance was unsure as to Brianna’s real motivations but one thing was sure—they would never be able to go on if the current daily tirades continued.
He’d made it clear, stood his ground and waited for Brianna’s response. He remembered the evening they’d argued and then Brianna had retired to the bedroom, emerging some twenty minutes later, dressed in a flowery tank top, white shorts and white sandals.
She’d let her hair fall down around her face, curled the ends slightly, and despite their argument earlier, Terrance couldn’t help but notice that she was still a beautiful woman. At that moment, though, the fact that his wife was looking decidedly hot in a way that reminded him of college, only angered him.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked, ready to do battle again to defend his home, his family, his life.
“I’m going out. There’s no sense in sticking around here watching you. I already know how you feel about this so save your breath. I’ll be back in time for you to leave for work. The baby is asleep.” Her words sounded hollow, flat—and they appeared to echo in his head as he watched her saunter over to the door.
“You have got to be kidding. Bree, we just talked about this stuff. You cannot just hang out whenever you choose to. You are a married woman, a wife, a mother—I mean, this is unheard of,” he said, his breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to keep his anger under control.
“Look, Terrance. We’ve already had this discussion. I can do anything I damn well please. I contribute to this household, I keep this place running, I take care of our daughter, I do it all.” Her voice raised with each additional chore she listed and in the end, she was almost screaming. Color rose in her cheeks and the pretty that Terrance had assigned to her only moments before, somehow now took on a grotesque quality that made him turn away.
This was his wife, the mother of his child, the woman he’d held in his arms on many nights and made love to. The woman who stood before him now no longer resembled anyone he’d ever loved or would continue to love. She was a stranger, both in emotion and intention.
He realized at that moment that their marriage was disintegrating before his eyes and the realization shook him to his core. The foundation they’d built was crumbling.
“Fine. If you feel the answer to our problems is for you to continue to run the streets each time we have words, go right ahead. I hope you find something out there that will offer you what you already have—but I sincerely doubt it,” he ended, his voice filled with emotion.
“I’m not looking for anything,” she replied curtly, then left the apartment quickly.
Several months later, with the same scene playing out over and over again, including an escalation in arguments over the same unacceptable behavior, they’d agreed to separate.
Terrance was devastated. In his mind, there was no plausible reason their marriage had failed. He attributed it to Brianna’s immaturity and his lack of ability to control her.
She’d requested the apartment, the furniture, the car and half their bank accounts. They would share custody of Jacqueline. He’d acquiesced because of one thing—guilt. He felt guilty each time he realized that his daughter had been cheated out of growing up with both her parents in the same home, and that he’d been powerless to change that eventuality.
In the end, Brianna won simply because he hadn’t wanted to drag things out any longer. He’d had to start anew, from scratch, on everything. He’d consoled himself with the fact that his daughter would benefit somehow. Seeing and hearing her parents tear one another apart couldn’t possibly be healthy or beneficial.
On a more practical note, months later, he still felt disgruntled each time he thought of the furniture they’d purchased together, or items he needed to replace, which he realized he was doing for the second time.
These thoughts and more rambled through his head quickly as he held the phone to his ear, putting one arm into a white button-down shirt, which he quickly rolled the sleeves up on.
“Listen, I just wanted you to know that your daughter is a chip off the old block. Jacqueline may have been born to two parents who were in the midst of a marital meltdown, but the genes are still there.”
“I suspect she’s a powerful mix of us both. Where is the little princess?”
“Actually, Godmother Grace just picked her up about half an hour ago. They were headed to the mall. I almost went, but decided I could get more mileage out of staying at home and catching up on a few things. I never seem to be able to catch up.” Once again, her voice edged him toward compliance, almost as if they were comrades in arms and Terrance wondered what the real reason for her call was. And then, just as if she’d read his mind, she cleared her throat and took a deep breath.
“Listen, Terry, I wanted to talk to you anyway.”
The use of the shortened version of his name stopped him cold. In the past, she’d only used that name when she either wanted something badly, or was in the throes of passion. He suspected the former and prepared himself.
“Go ahead,” he forced himself to say. It was too late to end the call or to pretend he hadn’t time to listen. He sat on the bed, his senses heightened, his mind fully ready to do combat if necessary, or to offer support if called upon.
“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I mean, we broke up and it was like a hurricane hit. There were a lot of things said, a lot of very hastily made decisions and most importantly, a lot of extremely painful moments. If I could take any of it back, I would. But that’s not what I called you to say.”
“Okay—go on.”
“Terry, I think we made a mistake. I know it’s late, I know we’ve both said and done some things that are unforgettable. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” Her voice trailed off then and Terrance let the breath he’d been holding in out of his lungs in a silent rush. His body was no longer tense, just alert. What he’d suspected had just been confirmed. And he knew in his heart that there was no way he was going back. He also recognized that the next words spoken would make all the difference, so he chose them with extreme care. Brianna was no fool, but neither was he. If she’d come calling with her tail between her legs, he suspected there was an agenda in place.
“Bree, everything you’ve just said is probably true. Everything but the last part. I don’t think it was a mistake at all. I think we both botched up the relationship and I certainly don’t blame you for any of it, ’cause I did my share, too. Truthfully, I just think it wasn’t meant to be. Not for the long run anyway.” His last words echoed in his head as he counted the seconds, waiting for Brianna’s reply.
“Why do you think that it’s too late? I mean, is it too late for us because we never had it to begin with, or is it too late because you’ve already moved on?”
Her questions lay heavily on his heart, her voice having taken on a tone of intimacy and eagerness he’d only heard a few times in their years together. It told him of her seriousness, told him that she had indeed thought it through and, more importantly, told him that his next words could possibly be crucial to both their lives.
Terrance hesitated, gathered his thoughts, then cleared his throat.
“Brianna, I can’t tell you that I’m surprised to hear you say that you’ve thought this out because I have, too. The truth is that I think we did the right thing by initiating the divorce. For many reasons, we just weren’t right together. I’m sorry, but that’s the way I feel. You’ll always be the mother of my daughter, someone I love very dearly and hopefully, a close friend forever, but I don’t think it would work.”
He ended the sentence and felt an illuminating moment of regret. He also felt tremendous relief at having told the truth. He inwardly wondered if that would buy him points, then realized that no one was really keeping score.
Brianna was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I’m sorry you feel that way. For the record, I disagree, but then we always did have different answers. I guess that was part of the problem. We also had a different approach, and a hell of a different way at looking at life. I guess that’s how we got to where we are,” she added, a hint of cynicism in her voice.
Her tone waved a red flag to him and he wondered if she was just having a bad day or truly felt they would do things better if given a second chance.
“I want to thank you, Terrance, for being honest.”
He could hear the disappointment in her voice and wondered if he’d ever be able to forgive himself for putting it there. Then, in a moment of clarity, he chastised himself. He hadn’t fallen out of love with her—not until she had begun to run the street, stay out all night, and not before she’d made it painfully clear to him that the marriage was no longer a priority for her.
“No problem. Hell, I’m surprised that you picked up the phone to call me. That took guts. You’re one unpredictable woman, Brianna.”
“Thanks. Sometimes I’m not sure how to separate the present from the past. Our lives are tangled like the branches from a vine, intertwined. Hey, I don’t mean to get deep on you but I have given this some degree of thought.”
Terrance didn’t respond. There was nothing left to say.
Brianna had gone over each and every point to see if there was any one factor which she could use to turn his decisions around. If not now, then perhaps later, was her resolve. It wouldn’t be over until she said so. In her mind, that was the final answer, so she switched gears instead.
“Hey, listen, I really wanted to let you know your daughter is showing definite signs of your personality. That made it a little easier to pick up the phone.” Her voice had taken on an edge of pride when she spoke of Jacqueline. In that moment, Terrance recognized that they’d always share the bond of being parents to a terrific kid.
“I’m going to hang up and go on back to my assigned chores for the day. I want to have accomplished something by the time Godmother Grace returns with Jacqueline.” Though she did her best to mask it, the stress of having gone through the last few moments was evident in her voice. For his part, Terrance was relieved to be able to put the subject to rest.
“Sure. You go on ahead and handle your business. Give my sweet pumpkin a kiss for me.” He sighed as he thought of Jacqueline’s tiny face, her deep brown eyes and the dimples she’d inherited from her mother.
“Sure thing,” she said.
Terrance said goodbye softly into the phone and ended his call with Brianna.
As he closed his cell phone, he breathed a huge sigh of relief knowing that he’d managed to handle a major hurdle in their relationship. He prayed that going forward, Brianna would be far less inclined to bring up any kind of reconciliation.
For the first time since he’d met with a divorce attorney, Terrance felt capable of handling whatever was coming his way. He finished dressing, put a belt through his pants, slid his feet into a pair of black leather loafers and headed for the living room. He could hear the laughter, smell the dinner which had just been prepared and knew that the evening ahead was most certainly not part of his past. The thought made him smile briefly, though it also made him nervous to think about his future.

Chapter 5
Terrance entered the room and looked around. He recognized the faces of many of those present as longtime friends, but knew that Branch’s open-door policy would have gathered folks who were merely acquaintances, too.
Roger, whom they’d both met while still in college, held center stage in one corner. Nita’s younger sister, Monica, now all grown up and looking dangerously close to being a heartbreaker, was all ears as the older, more experienced women in the room spun tales of their last heartbreak or some newly sprouted romance.
Terrance gave a perfunctory wave to all, nodded to those who made eye contact and made his way across the oversized family room. Although one wall held a fireplace framed in stone, the afternoon warmth made it extremely unlikely the hearth would be lit any time soon. Fourteen-foot ceilings with a skylight on either side of the fireplace provided light and an ambiance which elicited banter, laughter and a solid exchange of stories fraught with creativity. And the bride and groom beamed. Legitimately in love, they continued to exhibit behavior which confirmed their absolute belief in one another.
Terrance’s heart beat heavily in his chest as the conversation he’d just ended seasoned his mood. No one had told him he’d have the regrets he now dealt with every day. No one had warned him that he’d have so many memories. And no one could have predicted with any amount of accuracy that in only four short years, it would become necessary to take the final steps to end his marriage.
Terrance’s eyes swept the room uncertainly, timidly, as he unconsciously sought the face of the woman who had garnered his attention earlier. He wanted to get to know Skye better, wanted to find out what made her tick, wanted to know if she was as incredible as she looked. His thoughts were interrupted by a heavy hand pounding on his back which almost made him choke. He turned around quickly, wondering if he’d encountered an enemy in his midst.
“Damn, man, it’s good to see you. Remember the time we were all scouring the streets of Nassau searching for a soul mate for the night?” Lorenzo said, laughter in his voice as Terrance turned toward him.
“Yeah, and you were almost jail bait so we decided to postpone the operation and instead, went out dancing. Man, has anybody told you that you’re really heavy-handed?” Terrance added as he threw one arm around his best friend’s brother in a mock choke hold. The rivalry between the two had been in play since the first day they’d met. Today was no different but for some reason, Terrance felt somewhat awkward. He imagined Skye watching, wondering if she’d think their exchange immature, then figured it didn’t matter since she didn’t know him anyway.
He still hadn’t seen her, but was sure that she was somewhere within the room, was certain that she would perceive the masculine interchange between him and Lorenzo as immature, which immediately made him want to end it.
Lorenzo, on the other hand, had no such qualms about tussling with the man he thought of as his most prominent adversary.
“Man, where the hell have you been for the past couple of years? It sucked that you missed the wedding.” He continued without waiting for a response, as Terrance wondered how he’d managed to remain exactly the same for so long.
“You know, I’m surprised that Branch invited you this weekend. But then, you could always talk your way in or out of anything. I know he was disappointed when you didn’t show up, that’s for sure.”
“My daughter was sick, Lorenzo. You know that. And as for Branch not inviting me, you know he couldn’t do that—I’m his boy.”
Lorenzo nodded in agreement, then hugged Terrance again, confirming the statement. “Oh yeah, I forgot,” he mumbled. This was his brother’s best friend, his favorite adversary and someone whom he’d always envied.
In actuality, Branch had reached out to Terrance at the last minute, insisted he show up and he’d done as he’d been told. In part, he’d made the trip because he really wanted to be there, but in a small way, he’d come because he did feel guilty about not attending the actual wedding.
Branch was aware of the difficulties he’d faced at the time and that was all that really mattered. He continued to make small talk with Lorenzo, his eyes unconsciously scanning the room.
Suddenly, he caught sight of Skye in one of the far corners laughing and talking with a somewhat quiet couple from Washington, D.C. and he swallowed hard. She sat at one end of a long sofa covered in Haitian cotton, one leg tucked under her. The white camisole top, white shorts and sandals she wore made him think of the wedding they were all there to celebrate for the second time. In his mind, the woman who sat across the room looked suspiciously like an advertisement for a bride in an extremely relaxed setting. Her ponytail and sandals reminded him of a casual dress rehearsal.
With an open magazine resting in her lap, she appeared poised and totally at ease. The two young women engaged in conversation to her right seemed oddly out of sync with the picture of serenity she presented. Anyone else in a similar setting would have appeared distant, aloof, incompatible. Skye simply appeared to be engrossed in the enormity of it all, unwilling to commit herself to any one grouping or sampling of those present. Looking up suddenly, her eyes met his across the room and his throat went dry. He swallowed, then tore his gaze away.
This was crazy. Insane. He’d only met her less than an hour ago. So what if she was beautiful? So what if she was apparently single? It didn’t matter, because the ink was not even dry on his divorce papers yet. In his mind, it should be months before he was free to actually pursue another relationship. Emotionally, he was a wreck and he knew it. The thought crossed his mind that this was not to be a relationship, it was merely an attraction, and he immediately relaxed.
Across the room, Skye felt herself warm under Terrance’s watchful gaze. He’d been staring at her from the time he’d entered the room. She knew she should have been flattered, but instead felt unnerved. Her reaction did not really make sense, even to her, so she continued to browse the magazine, though the articles were unintelligible. She looked up after a few moments, allowed her eyes to find him, and realized that he was still watching her. They made eye contact and Skye smiled slightly, not wanting to appear unfriendly.
Terrance needed no further reason to end his conversation with Lorenzo and, after clasping him in a quick breakaway embrace, made his way across the room.
“What’re you drinking?” Terrance called out as he walked toward her with ease. He waited for an answer, then turned toward the small bar their hosts had so thoughtfully set up. It held a full spectrum of spirits, wines and coolers, all encased in a cart which could be wheeled to another location. The wet bar, adjoined by a sink and mini refrigerator, had also been well stocked with ice, lemon slices, olives and two platters of hors d’oeuvres.
Skye watched his approach and wondered how far the flirtation would go. She vowed to be cordial, but careful. If her instincts were right, Terrance spelled trouble with a capital T.
“Oh, I don’t know. How about a wine spritzer?” she asked, wondering how he managed to look so cool, so clean, so calm when her nerves felt on edge just watching him.
“Sure thing—one white wine spritzer coming up. Anyone else want something?” Terrance asked, flashing a broad grin. To the others who were present, exchanging updates on the latest in their daily lives, he appeared his normal friendly self. No one would have suspected the rapid beat of his heart, the determination in his gait or the inner thoughts he repressed.
Skye’s eyes did not waiver as he finished pouring, mixing and adding ice to the drinks he mixed. He walked toward her, toasted her glass quickly and said, “To brides everywhere,” before he took the seat next to her. The statement was not lost on her and she swallowed deeply, taking in too much of her drink, which caused her to choke.
Skye coughed nervously, covered her mouth, then sipped again. She wanted to look at him but felt it would be too risky, so she continued to sip the drink.
“Are you okay?” he asked, wondering if he’d made the drink too strong. The combination of wine and club soda was not a potent combination, so he figured she had probably swallowed too quickly.
She placed the drink on the coffee table, coughed a little more, then stopped.
Skye decided to look at him directly, figuring if she just faced her fears, they would be easier to overcome. The awkward moment she’d just gotten though made her feel as if they shared something and she wondered if she was simply looking for a reason to bond with the man seated beside her. She lifted her eyes to his then, ready to face whatever challenge he offered.
It was a mistake. Her stomach lurched as she realized she wanted to touch his mustache, wanted to run her fingers across the broad planes of his chest, wanted to feel his lips against her own. She looked around her and was grateful that no one could possibly have noticed the inner turmoil she was experiencing. They were all engaged in friendly banter and the exchange of wedding day stories. It felt as if a cocoon of sorts had been woven around the two of them only, binding them together and closing out the world.
“Cat got your tongue?” Terrance asked, stretching long legs out before him. The pants he wore clung to his muscular thighs as if by design and Skye tore her eyes away reluctantly. Picking up her glass and bringing it up to her lips, she drained it quickly. She reached forward to put it on the coffee table again, then turned to him boldly.
“I’m from the school of minimalism. I don’t believe in doing anything idly and I especially don’t believe in chatter,” she replied with a slight toss of her head.
Terrance noticed the way her ponytail moved with the action and smiled. The defiant gesture was a surprise to him, but it registered that he’d no doubt just been issued a challenge.
“What’s the formality for? I just want to get to know you better.”
“Really? What for? Odds are we’ll never even see each other again. We live hundreds of miles from one another.”
“Hey, it doesn’t really matter where you live. Anywhere in the United States is just a hop, skip and a plane ride away from the Bahamas. I’ve got plenty of frequent flyer miles.”
“Really?” She wanted to say more, but did not feel comfortable encouraging the line of conversation, so she stopped herself.
“Yeah, and a two-or three-hour plane ride is just long enough for me to get a good nap, regain my composure and regain my strength,” he added, the implied meaning coming through instantly and with crystal clarity.
His eyes flashed in an unspoken conspiracy and Skye’s mind raced. When had he begun to flirt so openly with her? She wondered, for a quick moment, if she should get up and leave the area, then told herself they were both adults.
“I think you probably have overestimated your abilities,” she deadpanned. A moment of silence ensued and Skye wondered if she’d hit a sore spot. To try and soften her last statement, she turned to him casually, put on her best smile and tried to reestablish civility.
“So, what exactly do you do? Obviously you fly often,” she found herself saying, though she wanted to kick herself for asking something she already knew the answer to. Nita had mentioned he was a doctor in one of her recent stories about him.
“Yeah, actually I visit the States quite often. I also go back and forth to the Bahamas where my home is and sometimes abroad, to England. As a doctor I travel a lot,” he ended.
Terrance realized as he spoke that for some unknown reason, his body felt tense, almost as if he’d been on guard the entire time. They’d only been talking, laughing and sharing a wine spritzer, but he felt the effects as plainly as if they’d engaged in a battle of some sorts.
Now, with Skye’s glass empty, he realized he didn’t want her to drink anymore. He wanted to get to know her without the benefit of inebriation, without the assistance of anything or anyone. He also realized that if he ever did get to try and seduce her, he wanted them both lucid so that they would remember each and every detail, down to the most minute aspect. He recognized all of this in a split second, then excused himself and headed toward the kitchen. He wanted to end their interaction before anything negative could enter it, before he could spoil it in any way and before she could come to the conclusion that she no longer wanted to share his company.
Skye watched him walk away and smiled. “Punk,” she whispered under her breath.
Branch and Nita were both in the huge kitchen, each consumed with instructing their young kitchen helper, a teenager from the neighborhood. Though he had a decided and demonstrated knack for the preparation of simple, functional foods, it wasn’t easy to get him to do so in a timely fashion. Nina had purchased more food than would be necessary even if they were under a two-week siege.
The grill held several tilapia fillets, salmon steaks and at least two pounds of jumbo shrimp. On the other side, steak kabobs and delicately seasoned chicken breasts were also slowly cooking. Side dishes included potato salad, green beans almondine, and a salad of mixed greens tossed with lemon juice, garlic, extra-virgin olive oil and red onion cut into thin slices.
Terrance, who hadn’t eaten since morning, felt his stomach churn as he looked over the enticing party fare. “Damn, man, you sure know how to throw a dinner party.”
“Hey, don’t give me all the credit. Nita put her heart and soul into this gathering. Everything from the house being meticulously maintained, to the shrimp cocktail, is all her doing. Nita is on the money when it comes to handling this stuff. And that’s only one of the reasons I married this woman,” he added, throwing one arm possessively around her shoulders, drawing her close to him. He kissed her on the cheek, looked her in the eye and whispered, “I love you.”
Terrance watched the interplay between the two and thought of the conversation he and Brianna had just had. He had vowed to move forward with his life, hoping that she would do the same, but now knew that regret would probably accompany them both for years to come. He didn’t feel the need to revisit the marriage as she’d suggested. There was no compelling reason for them to try and rekindle their relationship except Jacqueline and, in his mind, she’d probably fare better with them being apart. He’d never believed the old adage of children growing up in a two-parent home; not if neither of the parties truly wanted to be there.
He wondered if Skye would understand his thinking, then realized that it didn’t matter. His burdens were his own. He vowed to get through the weekend without embarrassing himself but also wanted to do so without annoying any of the other guests.
In an effort to maintain that stance for the remainder of the evening, he kept his distance from Skye, doing everything in his power to remain outside her presence. It was all for naught because it only made him more acutely aware of her existence.
Somewhere around midnight, Terrance switched to martinis. He drank too much, laughed too loudly, and went to bed at two o’clock in the morning wondering how he’d make it through the remainder of the weekend.

Skye slept like a baby, dreaming about airplanes, blue skies and crystal clear water.
Awakening at her usual hour of 6:30 a.m., she put on orange running shorts, a white tank top and sneakers. Adjusting her earphones on her MP3 player, she hesitated, then put her cell phone into her pocket before she left the house. There were no signs that anyone else had arisen. The day was overcast, but it seemed as if it wouldn’t rain for several hours.
Thoughts of her job, her new condo and last night’s encounter rambled through her mind as she headed north on University Boulevard. She always did her best thinking as she covered the two miles she ran each morning. In her mind, today would be no different except for the route.
The busy boulevard hadn’t begun to be impregnated by its usual heavy traffic patterns early on a Saturday morning. Most of Fort Lauderdale’s residents were still asleep, others were still indoors, glad to put the former week solidly to bed.
After jogging for a few blocks, Skye crossed a large intersection, being careful to watch for any oncoming vehicles or turning cars. The curb was just in front of her and she made the mental calculation to step up higher to accommodate it. As she did so, her ankle twisted sharply, causing her to momentarily lose her balance. The pavement seemed to come up to meet her, and she braced her fall with her left hand. Her knee took the weight with the fall knocking the wind out of her diaphragm.
She came to a heap just outside the crosswalk, wondering if she’d broken a bone or anything else. Her ankle throbbed, her wrist hurt but her pride was even more injured. Looking around quickly, she realized no one had witnessed the fall and was grateful.
Willing herself to her feet, Skye realized she’d probably sprained the ankle as she made several attempts to put weight on it. The quarter mile she’d already run made it impossible for her to hobble back the same distance without difficulty.
Suddenly, she remembered she’d put her cell phone into the tiny pocket of the shorts. She reluctantly pulled it out. Lowering herself to a sitting position at the curbside, she dialed Nita’s number.
After two rings, Branch growled into the phone. “Yeah.”
Skye knew she’d probably never live it down but she had no choice. “Branch, I hate to wake you, but I need some help.”
“Skye? What’s the matter?” Obvious confusion could be heard in his voice and she wondered if anyone at all realized she’d left the house.
“Branch, I went jogging like I do every morning, only I tripped and fell.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell someone you were going out? Where are you?” he asked.
“I’m at the intersection of University and SW Sixth Street. I hate to ask, but could you come and get me with the car? I don’t think my ankle can support my weight right now,” she ended, her voice suddenly cracking.
“Yeah, sure. Don’t move. Stay right there. I’m on my way,” he said as he placed the phone into its cradle.
Nita turned over, flung an arm over his pillow and snuggled more deeply into the bedcovers. Branch watched her for a moment, thought of waking her, then walked toward his closet. He pulled on a pair of jeans, threw on the shirt he’d worn the night before and left the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him so as not to awaken his wife. She deserved to rest after playing hostess until two a.m.
He passed the kitchen, thought he heard a sound and looked into it. Terrance was standing over the sink, a glass of juice in one hand, bottle of Motrin in the other, looking very much like a train wreck.
“Damn, man. What happened to you?”
“Had a rough night, my man. What the hell are you doing up so early, dressed and looking as if you’re sneaking out?” Terrance’s questions were issued with a degree of real pain. Every effort he made to move his lips was rewarded with a quiver somewhere in his head and the Motrin he’d just swallowed had not yet begun to do its work.
“Dude, take a ride with me. One of our guests has had an accident and I’m the resident EMT.” It took a moment for the statement to register, then Terrance put the glass down.
“Sure, I’ll take the ride. Who the hell is dumb enough to be out this early in the morning though? Wait, don’t answer. Probably Lorenzo on his way to a beer run or some other self-serving errand,” he added as they walked toward Branch’s Escalade. The oversized vehicle looked formidable in the early-morning light, its black exterior adding class and elegance to a sports utility vehicle that ranked among the best.
“No, actually it was Skye. I take it she runs every morning at home. Probably figured she’d do it here but I think she fell or something. I don’t know—she just called and said she’s at an intersection about twelve blocks away.”
His words knocked the wind out of Terrance’s lungs and for a moment, he felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to ask several questions at once, then thought better of it. He’d know soon enough and in the interim, he didn’t want Branch to know that he was struggling with a growing interest in his wife’s best friend.
When they pulled up some moments later, Skye was still sitting at the curb, looking very much like a woman who’d made up her mind to run a marathon that morning. Wearing no makeup, hair pulled back into an uncombed ponytail, the orange shorts and white tank top bearing road dirt and grime, she still appeared to be serious about her sportsmanship. She also looked embarrassed.
Terrance and Branch walked toward her and Skye fought to keep the tears from coming. She hadn’t expected to cry but seeing the formidable rescue squad affected her sensibilities, confirming that without having had the cell phone, the outcome of a minor accident could have been much worse.
“Thanks for coming. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t answered,” she said as they stepped to either side of her.
“Stop thanking me. Nita would never forgive me if I don’t take good care of you. By the way, I didn’t try and wake her just now, knowing you’d be there soon enough to fill her in. I suspect she’s gonna give you hell for leaving the house without telling anybody though,” Branch said, a smile playing across his mouth.
He hadn’t meant to scold Skye, but was concerned that she’d left without telling anyone. In his mind, the weekend meant that all their guests were his responsibility until they were well on their way back home. Accidents aside, he wanted to avoid anything bad happening to anyone in their midst, especially without him knowing about it.
Terrance had remained silent until then. “Did you hurt any other part of your body?” he asked, pointing to her upper torso.
“My wrist hurts a little, but this ankle is killing me,” Skye answered quickly.

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