Shattered Heart (2 page)

“But Sir, I took the liberty of making us reservations at my club. I had hoped to show you…”

I really don’t think he wants me to respond to what he is saying so before the annoying little man beside me can get any further with his comment, I look across the seat at him as my lips tighten and my eyes narrow. He must have correctly interpreted my facial expression because he shut the hell up. Following with my request, Jeff pulls around allowing the four of us to quietly enter using the back entrance.

Chapter 3

After we order, I enjoy the charm of The Downtown Bistro. This must be one of the oldest buildings in Miami. I make a mental note to research it. Looking around, I can’t believe my eyes and mutter to Lana to look who is sitting in the back of the room. In a small alcove, which ensures some privacy sits the men from the elevator. As I point this out to Lana, I also notice the person in the center, he is the essence of power. His wavy hair the color of milk chocolate makes me want to jump up, go over and run my hands through it. I really do have a thing for hair.

Lana lets out a little laugh. Oh goodness, did I say that out loud? “I know exactly what you are thinking and yes, Charli you did say it out loud. You have always had a thing for men with good hair and saying things out loud that maybe you shouldn’t. Even way back in college. Remember when you would say”… I hold up my hand to stop her.

“Ok, Lana I know, I know, I need to learn to control myself. Let’s not go down memory lane. Changing the subject I say, “It was a good presentation actually great I thought.” Lana agrees and we decide to celebrate just a little tonight. So, Billy’s it is, then?”

Just as I leave the Ladies, my phone vibrates. I stop beside a small table to read the text in the hall when I notice the old photographs depicting Miami, during a different era, arranged around some period pieces. Because this stuff fascinates me, I pick up a photograph to take a closer look. As I am examining this interesting, old photo someone bumps me, causing me to drop it. I jerk my head around, only to find one of the men from the elevator. When he says sorry, like it was my fault he bumped into me, I recognize his voice as the person that made that awful comment.

I begin silently counting one: stay quiet, two: don’t do it, three: get past it. I bend down to pick up the photo. (The jerk didn’t even offer to pick it up for me. Real gentleman, this one is.) Successfully, talking myself out of saying something very un-lady like.

I hear a deep masculine voice, “Is everything alright?”

I stand up, turn around and before me is the sex god with milk chocolate hair. Barely mumbling out a response, “Yes, everything is fine.” I failed to add, no thanks to this one standing here.

Perfect Hair flashes me a smile that could mess with my sanity and then says, “Here let me take this.” I jerk back quickly as our hands briefly touch sending a jolt through me. He smiles again, as I attempt to laugh off that shock as best as I can.

“Thanks.” Fighting the urge to run my hands through that hair that is less than an arm’s length away, I turn to make my way back to our table. Turning I realize I must navigate a passageway that seems to have collapsed. I now know what it must feel like if you’re the camel someone is trying to stuff through the eye of a needle.  Lana looks up at me frowning. “I thought you got lost. Charli, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.” Nodding she stood and we headed out.

“Hey, check your phone, Joan tried to call you.”

“Really? I didn’t hear it. Oh I put it on vibrate and failed to turn the ringer back on.” Wrinkling her forehead as she pulled out her phone to check it, “Yep, I see that now. What did she want?”

Grimacing a little, I told her, “A Blaine Company representative called.”

“Ooo, that quick. Doesn’t sound good does it?”

“I don’t know but they want you to call them back.” As we walk almost a block down the street, we agree that a call this important shouldn’t be made until she’s back in the office.

“You head on back without me. My head has hurt all morning. I’m going to take advantage of the work for yourself thing. I’m going home, find a dark, quiet room. Namely my bedroom and lay down for a-while.”

“Ok, if you need me let me know. Are you positive you’re ok?”

“Yes, I am.” Not sure that quiet time is really what I want after looking into those chocolate eyes and feeling that jolt throughout my body.

Just as we are about to get into the taxi, I realize I left my bag by the table. “Lana, what’s gotten into me? I’ve left my yellow bag at our table. You go ahead.” Walking back to the restaurant, I find the table has been cleared and set for the next customers. Quickly looking around, I don’t see it anywhere. I ask our server of which she knows nothing about it. Her answer just sends me into a mini rant. “Great! Just great. That was an expensive bag. Well expensive for me, at least.”

“You can leave your name and number in case it turns up, Mam.” Thank goodness it didn’t have my laptop in it.

Chapter 4

“Sir, is something wrong?” I must have frowned when I sat down causing him to ask me a trivial question that he knows I hate. No, Nash I’m fine even better now that Johnson is gone. Where did he disappear to?”

Nash and Jeffery look at each other and then sit there for just a moment, finally Nash responded. “He received a call just after he sat back down. Something about being needed back at the office.”

“That’s interesting that someone at the office would call him away from a lunch with the company’s owner. Someone back there has balls.” I couldn’t help a grin from forming on my face, “How fortunate for us boys. How fortunate for us.” Looking from one to the other with neither indicating they had made that happen, “Thanks guys. You two know how to make my problems disappear, don’t you?”

“That would be why you pay us the big bucks, Boss Man.”

“I noticed a frown when you sat back down, was there a specific reason?”

No Jeff, no reason. Pointing to the front of the room, something under that table caught my eye as I was returning. I was focused on it. No doubt, something someone left behind.”

Nash quickly looked around. “Where? I’ll check it.” Returning, with what appeared to be a woman’s laptop bag, Jeff couldn’t contain the harassment that I saw brewing as Nash sat the bag on the seat beside him.

“Hey Nash, I know expert bomb technicians like you can work in any situation.”

Smiling and nodding his head, Nash proudly punching out his chest, “Yes, I can, Jeff.”

“Like I was trying to say before I was rudely interrupted, if that bag you sat down has a bomb in it and you brought it back to this table, I’m going to give you the beating of your life after it’s diffused, little brother.”

“Dumbass, do you think I would bring it back to this table if it had a bomb in it? Especially, if Houston and I are seated here. Now if it was just you, I might consider it.”

Shaking my head at the two of them, I am always amazed at the bickering they do. I know ninety-nine percent of the crap they throw at each other is just that, crap. “Sometimes, I don’t mind this girl fighting you two do but today it’s getting on my nerves. Just shut it up.”

I caught Nash winking at Jeff. Just about the time Jeff said, “The big man has spoken. Those of us that don’t sit in the back of the car, and wear five thousand dollar suits have received the message loud and clear.”

With a twinkle in my eye, I responded, “If you don’t stop talking, you may find yourself without a job, old man.”

“Old man, I am not that much older than you. I’m thirty-eight so that makes you what? Thirty-four. Old man, my ass.”

Just as we were finishing our meal, they started at each other again. Jeff pointed at the bag sitting beside Nash, “You know, that shade of yellow is your color. I especially like that patterned scarf you’ve tied onto it. That print is
fabulous.”

Nash responds to that snide little comment with a scowl. “Funny Jeff, very funny. If I didn’t know you had a wife that loves to drag you to fashion week when we are in New York, I might be just a little concerned as to why you used the term
fabulous
, with that particular tone of voice. Even more concerning might be the fact that you commented on the patterned scarf.”

Nash looks down at it lifting the ends, “Besides, it is a silk scarf by Jose Hernando if I was to guess.” “Really, you are giving me hell and you know the damn designer? Which brother should be worried about which?” Jeff asks.

“FYI, Bro” Nash responds with a sarcastic voice, using his breadstick as a pointer,” I tend to know which designers utilize strong but sensual feeling products. You might be surprised to know that a great many ladies these days really enjoy their hands being restrained in some manner. You might up your game some and make my sister in law a happier woman”.

“Ok boys. Enough. If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like this is the beginning of a cat-fight. It really does concern me though. You two know way too much about women’s clothing.”

Giving a wicked little grin, Nash commented, “It helps to know the terminology and designers these days. Especially if you don’t have an untold number of zeros in your bank account.”

Raising my hand, I suggested, “You two need to get into the gym and pound out some of that brotherly love. Better yet, Jeff book us all three some time for the ring. I’ll take the last man standing.” Just as I end their bickering, I glance up to see that raven haired beauty re-enter. I couldn’t pull my eyes from her as she crossed the room to the table where Nash retrieved the bag. She looked underneath the table, turning she spoke with a server. Finally, she ended up at the counter. Nash must have seen her also, he began to stand but I shook my head, no. Shrugging he sits back down. Keeping the bag out of sight. Who in their right mind, is carless or forgetful enough to leave their bag behind? Typical airheaded female, I have no doubt but she didn’t sound like one during that brief exchange of words earlier. With the designer clothing she is dressed in, (Who says I don’t know women’s designers?) I have no doubt that her focus when she was leaving was on anything except her bag. This type of error in both personal and business life can be very serious, possibly deadly, especially with some of the people I deal with. Just a prime example of what I see on a daily basis, carelessness. No wonder most people don’t succeed in business.

With that snug fitting clothing, I don’t know what women call it, but apparently Jeff or Nash might know, I have no doubt that business is not her focus. I would like to know what her focus is. If it is business then I have no doubt I could change it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

My head hurts! What in the world is that sound and where is it coming from? Whatever it is, it’s very annoying. With each sound it feels like an ice pick stabbing away at my head. There it is again but it is a little louder. I think it is a beep I just am not sure. It doesn’t really matter were the sound is coming from, I just want it to stop.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” Why doesn’t she answer me? My eyes are heavy as I struggle to open them just as I realize my phone is going off. Looking at it I see I have seven messages, most of them reminding me to be at Billy’s tonight.  The last one says,

Charli, I need u 2 b at Billy’s 2nite. Am making my mov. Need ur support!!!!!!!!

I respond with a smile.

U’ve got this. …  u …  n … a… few.  

I love texting. Looking at my other text, I see
Joan has also let me know someone has dropped my bag off at the office.
Thank goodness.

Laying on my bed for a few, I’m trying to decide if I really want to go tonight. My headache is gone and maybe Billy’s is what I need. Week nights at Billy’s calls for nothing special-jeans, shirt and heels. Which is a really good after the full on business attire from today. Even though, I enjoy wearing a pencil skirt, silk blouse and pumps, casual sounds really good at this very minute. I drag myself off of the bed and to my closet.

As I enter, I hear the weeknight band playing something upbeat but not over the top. The floor to ceiling windows provide a breath taking view of the city. Several people are here with most gathered into groups in those soft leather chairs enjoying each others company. A few are on the dance floor but everyone knows, Billy’s dancing doesn’t really start until after mid-night which gives us the opportunity to chat without yelling.

Spotting Lana sitting across from Terrance, Rose, and some others I have met a few times I move to the group. It’s nice that Billy’s really isn’t that far from my apartment. A quick cab ride gets me home and in bed before my buzz disappears because the
bar staff makes great drinks, not weak like some places. So a cab means no designated driver required.
We talk, we laugh and after a couple of
lychee martinis I excuse myself and head to the restroom.

Glancing down at a table, low and behold sitting alone, twirling a tumbler of some gold liquid, is the man from lunch. He seems lost in thought. I think to myself that I would like to make him smile, which makes me smile. He glances up allowing our eyes to meet for just a moment. Whew, the temperature of the room rose at least ten degrees. I give a small smile and move onward. I wonder if he recognized me.

Ready to leave the restroom,
I look in the mirror, deciding I’ll speak to him. In the words of my brothers what the hell besides it must be fate that I see him three times in one day in a city the size of Miami. Yes, my hair looks good. Just a little fluff wouldn’t hurt as I bend over. Raising back up, I check my teeth-nothing on them. I reapply my lipstick. Ok ready. I give myself a little pep talk- I can do this, I can do this.

With a deep breath, I walk out ready to take one giant step moving me forward into a new experience. As I near his table, I notice, he is no longer alone. Darn! So much for me sitting down and saying hello. Mr. Perfect Hair glances up from the stunning red head that is sitting across from him and our eyes meet for just a moment. The thoughtful expression is now a scowl.  I put an extra swing in my step and mumble the word smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think this place is boring. What do you think? Do you mind if I join you?”

Looking up, I raise my eyebrows “Since you’ve taken the liberty of sitting down, why not? As to answer your first question about this establishment, obviously, I don’t think it is boring. I wouldn’t have been sitting here on my second drink,” I smirk. I see the beauty from lunch approaching me. This night might be turning around. I almost choke on my drink as I hear a gentle word escape from her luscious lips. Smile. Which I do as she walks on past. Signaling the server, I drown out the mindless chatter of the woman sitting across from me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I sit down, I decide I will have one more drink and then head home. Terrance and Lana are on the dance floor as well as Rose and Joel, I think his name is. T and Lana together, finally. The red head is still there.  I was just about to turn to our server for another drink, when she sits one down in front of me. As I pick my drink up, I realize the word smile is written on the base of the glass. I automatically look to the area of the room where I think my drink benefactor is sitting but unfortunately his back is to me. I shrug my shoulders just a little, smile and take a drink.
Turning to talk to those of our group that are still sitting.

After a few minutes,
I stand take my “smiling” cocktail over to the windows and enjoy the beautiful view of this city. I can’t believe that my life has brought me to this place. Who would have thought? I was becoming just a little melancholy as I was loosing myself in the view. My mind is drifting back to a happier time when my life had true meaning. My life has meaning now but the direction in which I am going is a little fuzzy.

“Such a beautiful face looking at a striking view shouldn’t look so sad.”

Which causes me to glance over at the person standing beside me. He is attractive in a nerdish kind of way.

“Huntington James.”

“Hello, Mr. James, I agree the view out of these windows is beautiful. I wasn’t sad simply loosing myself in thoughts that I have to admit could sadden me.”

“Well, let’s change those thoughts by dancing?” As I stand there for just a moment, I think sure why not. We head to the dance floor, just as the band goes into their retro set of songs. Which really is better for me because some of the current music is not my taste. Who am I kidding almost all of today’s sound doesn’t fit my taste. We dance through several upbeat songs, seems if right on cue when I need a break, a much slower number is beginning. I turn to head off the floor.

“Where are you going beautiful?”

“I need a drink, I am thirsty.” As he directs me to a smaller more intimate table away from my group, I glance over and catch Lana’s eyes. She gives me a questioning look as I slightly shake my head back at her.

We each order a drink. I decide to have another lychee martini. Huntington commented that he rarely if ever met a woman that ordered one of those. I shrug my shoulders explaining that the fruit is very sweet tasting but has a tropical taste at the same time. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that Huntington James isn’t interesting. He seems nice but as we sit I also notice the lighter skin on his ring finger of his left hand. I finish my drink, and try as politely as possible to tell him that I am calling it a night. He really doesn’t want to accept my refusal of another drink.

“Huntington, it would be my suggestion that you remember to do one of two things. Either, wear a ring on your left hand or take your wedding band off the minute you get out in the sun. My best advice is to think about why you married in the first place and keep it in your pants. Somewhere, I assume there is someone that loves you and would be deeply wounded by your actions tonight.”
His mouth dropped open as I stood and walked away.

Returning to my original group, I sit with my back to the dance floor for a bit giving Huntington time to move on. Finally, I announce that I am going to head home. To a round of boos, I stand, do a quick check in Perfect Hair’s direction but to my great disappointment he isn’t there. I go over to pay my tab but find it has been paid. I quiz the bartender as to who has paid it but he just smiles, hands me a card with a smiley face and a phone number written on it. Well, that just ticks me off. On top of the Huntington episode, I am fed up with my night. Signal received loud and clear party gods, I’m going home for sure. I scan the bar once more not finding the face I am looking for. Thanking the bartender, I turn to leave, stopping by the group telling them all goodnight one more time. The more I think about that number the angrier I get. I take the elevator down to street level and hail a taxi the way I have watched Lana do it. OK, I might not have her skills but one stops. The minute I sit down, I jerk out my phone and send a text.