“Thanks for your optimism.”
“If you won’t stay on the pills, at least make an appointment to come see me.”
Alex laughed. “I can’t come all the way to D.C. right now.”
“What do you mean, all the way? D.C. is nowhere from North Carolina.”
Alex stood. “I’m hanging up now,” he announced.
“Alex, man—”
“Hey. You want me to stay away from anything stressful, right?”
“Right.”
“Then I need to end this call,” Alex countered and slammed down the phone.
“Oooh, who got on your bad side?” Topaz asked when she opened her front door around seven that evening.
“You don’t want to know,” Alex assured her, stepping inside when she moved away from the door.
“Well, let’s get you comfortable,” Topaz decided, taking his arm and leading him out of the small foyer.
“Damn,” Alex hissed, the moment they entered the hallway.
“What’s wrong?”
“I meant to bring something,” he explained, patting his hands against the pockets of his loose jeans, “a bottle of wine, beer, somethin’ ... I hate walkin’ in empty-handed.”
Topaz shook her head. “Please, Alex, I’ve got everything.”
“Beer?”
“Killian’s okay?”
Alex grinned. “I should’ve known you’d have exactly what I need,” he said, laughter filling his words.
“So relax,” she urged, taking his arm again and continuing their journey down the hall. “I’ll get your beer and you can sit in the den and relax and forget whatever’s bothering you.”
“I don’t think I’ll have a problem doing that.”
“I keep my CDs over here,” Topaz instructed, smoothing her hand across the glass cabinet beneath the impressive stereo system. “Feel free to change the music if you want.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Alex sighed, dropping to the sofa. “I love Sarah Vaughn,” he told her, closing his eyes as the allure of the woman’s beautifully haunting voice soothed his frazzled nerves.
“Oh! I was just on my way back with your beer,” Topaz said when she turned from the refrigerator to find Alex leaning against the kitchen doorway. “Here you go,” she whispered, handing him one of the frosty brews.
“Smells good in here,” Alex commented after taking a swig from the longneck bottle. “What’d you make?”
Topaz clasped her hands, eager to share the evening’s menu. “We’ve got collard greens with rice, macaroni casserole, corn bread, fried chicken, and sweet potato pie for dessert.”
Alex watched her in disbelief, his gorgeous stare widening in appreciation. “All this just for givin’ you a card to use my park?”
Topaz laughed and peeked in on her corn bread. “It’s for a lot more than that,” she assured him, turning to fix him with her bright eyes. “Alex, I don’t know what would’ve happened in the park that night if—”
“Don’t,” he ordered, suddenly raising his hand. “Can we just stop talkin’ about that mess altogether?” he pleaded, unable to admit how much it angered him just to think of those men threatening her.
“You won’t hear about it again,” she promised, fiddling with the flaring sleeves of her buttercream button-front blouse.
Alex enjoyed another swig of beer and watched her working at the stove. He ordered himself not to grow fixated on the provocative fit of her hip-hugging jeans. A smile triggered his dimples when he noticed her feet were bare.
“So which one of your parents taught you how to cook?”
“Neither!” Topaz called, stirring the steaming pot of greens. “I learned from my aunt.”
“The uppity one?” Alex blurted, his bottle poised for a drink.
Topaz burst into laughter. “No! No, no ... my father’s brother owns a huge farm in Louisiana. His wife is a great cook. I spent most of my summers there,” she told him, turning the heat down under the collards.
“Did you go because you wanted to or because you had to?” Alex teasingly inquired
“Oh, I wanted to go. I love that life,” she admitted, then shook her head. “My parents really would disown me if they knew I plan to have my own farm someday.”
Alex could only shake his head, enjoying all the interesting facets to her personality. “I guess your farm-girl mentality is what helped you to escape the privileged lifestyle with your goodness intact.”
