CHAPTER 5

NICOLE TOOK OFF LIKE A bat out of hell from her garage. Driving while angry was never a good idea. She had about half an hour ride before she arrived at her meeting and needed to vent. There was only one person she trusted to have this kind of conversation, and the woman was thousands of miles away in Fiji. Nicole hated to call this late because of the time difference, but if she didn’t talk it out, her emotions were going to run over. She pressed the speed dial button. When the phone rang, it came through the speakers of her car loud and clear. It rang two more times before a groggy sounding Dana Lasso picked up.

“Hello? Nicole?”

“Hey. I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to talk.”

Dana tried to clear her mind. “That’s okay. It’s only 1:19 a.m. here. I think my brain will work. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

Nicole’s throat was thick with emotion. “My marriage is in trouble.”

It was those words that woke Dana, and her joking tone evaporated. She took off her sleeping mask and sat up in bed. “Wait? What? That’s crazy talk. I know things have been tough lately, but you two love each other.”

“In the famous words of Tina Turner, What’s Love Got to Do with It? Yes, we love each other, but the problem is Davis doesn’t take me seriously. He doesn’t respect me, or see me as an equal—as his partner and probably never has.”

“That’s not true. Why would you say that?”

The well of Nicole’s eyes began to fill and everything she’d been holding in for months tumbled out of her mouth along with the tears. “Nothing that is important to me is important to him whether it’s my work placing kids into good foster homes, the foundation, or even our family. He can’t even be bothered enough to fake it! The man is almost never home! He works constantly. I’m tired of feeling like I’m in this marriage by myself. I’m so physically exhausted. I literally have to take Vivarin like they are pieces of candy just to have the energy to get through the day. I think . . . I’m having a nervous breakdown.”

“Let’s take this one thing at a time.” Nicole was her friend, but today, she needed to put on her therapist’s hat. “What triggered all of this?”

“Dana, I need a friend, not a doctor!”

“Sounds like you need both. Now talk!”

Nicole squeezed the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. See? I’m turning into a real bitch. I’m not usually like this. I don’t even want to be around myself.”

Jane pressed. “What happened?”

“Other than the usual of having to do everything all by myself? Well, DJ’s been sick. Between his teething and an ear infection, I’ve only been able to sleep like 2-3 hours a day for the past couple of weeks. It’s bad enough Davis misses everything including dinner with the kids and me, but yesterday, I asked him to do one thing—one thing! I asked if he could take DJ to the doctor because I have a meeting this morning. Can you believe he delegated it to Jane! He couldn’t even find the time to take his own son to the doctor!”

Dana frowned with concern. “That doesn’t sound like Davis. After losing his sister to pneumonia when he was a child, he’s overly sensitive about stuff like that. I mean, the man freaks out when any of you come down with a common cold. Are you sure something else isn’t going on?”

“I doubt it. For argument’s sake, if there were, shouldn’t he have told me?”

“Yes, but you know men, especially the pigheaded ones. Sometimes they want to get all hunter-gatherer on you.” Dana needed to switch gears. “Nicole. You’re not superwoman. It’s okay to hire help especially since you both have hectic schedules lately. That won’t make you less than a mother.”

“What? A nanny? Someone else to raise our kids? No, thank you. Our children have two perfectly healthy parents. There’s no reason why Davis can’t help out more. He hasn’t always been like this. It’s just over the past year or so . . . I don’t know . . . I only need a little more help from him.”

“Nicole, are you sure there’s not something else going on? You just said that Davis is acting differently. My suggestion as your friend, and if I were treating you as a patient, which I’m not because it would be unethical . . .” She snickered. “Take the man out to dinner and talk to him. Wait . . . scratch that, sex him up really good first, then talk to him. Men tend to have loose lips and be much more amenable to conversation after they’ve had an orgasm. If I might add, you’re tense, sounds like you could use the release too. That’s my prescription.”

“Sex? No matter how tired Davis is, he seems to always be up for that. Usually, I can, but I’m so mad at him, I don’t know how I can pull it off.”

“Just stop being angry, or maybe not stop, but pause. Think back to the first time the two of you made love on that island and how you felt?”

Nicole sighed, and a corner of her lips ticked up. “The island. God that seems like so long ago.”

“Yeah, I remember how hard you fell in love with him. You traveled all the way to Fiji to get over it. That kind of love doesn’t just disappear.”

“Technically, I was running away from my ex, Todd, and ran right smack dab into the hurricane that is Davis.”

“Do you still love him?”

Seconds ticked by before Nicole answered. “More than anything. I just want things to go back to the way they were. Only, I don’t know how to get us there.” Nicole made it to her destination. The half-hour drive went by like no time had passed at all. She pulled the black Mercedes Benz into the underground garage and parked.

Dana was sympathetic. “I know you do, and he feels the same way. That’s how I know you’ll get through this. Everyone goes through a rough patch. So, to answer your question, What’s Love Got to Do with It? Everything.”

Nicole wasn’t so sure. She released a long-exaggerated breath. “Thanks for talking me down from the ledge. I’ve arrived for my meeting. I’ve got to get to the 77^th floor before I’m late. That’s not a good look, so I’ll call you later at a reasonable hour. Sorry for waking you up.”

“No problem. Nicole?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure you reach out after the two of you talk. Remember, good sex covers a multitude of problems.” Dana laughed, hoping Nicole would take her advice, not necessarily about the sex, but definitely the talking part. Hopefully, it would lead to an incredible make-up smash session.

Nicole disconnected the call. Sex was never our problem, too bad everything else was.

“I think this is cause for celebration!” Aimee Simon, the Angel Foundation President, clapped her manicured hands together and declared in a fit of laughter. She pressed the conference room’s intercom. “Claire, get the champagne. Somewhere in the world, the afternoon has arrived.”

Nicole was so excited she could barely sit still. The board sat around a luxurious cherry wood conference table, surrounded by the best view of the city, celebrating the closing of the deal. Roman, or Rome, Adar Abboud and his associates agreed to donate ten million dollars toward the building of the new Angel Group Home facility due in no small part to Nicole’s persuasive skills. This was the most significant donation Nicole had ever landed. Her first instinct was to call Davis, but that would have to wait until she contacted Jane about DJ.

At the end of the meeting, before everyone was about to leave, both parties were standing around, shaking hands, and smiling from ear to ear. The group had broken up into pockets of individual conversations. However, the man with the pen and the money, Mr. Abboud, wanted a word with Nicole. “Ms. Chatham. May I speak to you—privately?”

She nodded and answered through a permanently fixed upon her face grin. “Of course.” Nicole stepped away from her colleagues and followed the giant over to a small corner of the conference room. Roman had to be over six-feet-five. Erika Lancaster, one of the members of the Angel Foundation’s board, had been crushing on him ever since they met at another fundraiser for children’s autism. Dark, brooding eyes, broad shoulders, thick jet-black hair, and a smile to die for with perfectly straight teeth that shined bright against the natural tan of his skin would have made most women weak in the knees. He was the talk of the office the first time the entire board met with Mr. Abboud. Nicole wondered how the thirty-seven-year-old had remained single all this time—especially, one with a philanthropic heart. That was always sexy on a man. Still, while he made the other women in the room lose their minds, he did absolutely nothing for her—not a pitter nor a patter.

“Ms. Chatham, I was especially persuaded by your story of growing up in foster care. Being a woman of color, I know it added just an extra layer of difficulties that others with a different hue might not have had to face.”

“That’s why this facility is so important. I want young girls who grew up like me to have a place where they can feel safe. A place where there will always be people to help them feel grounded. Nothing can ever replace a loving home, but my hope is Angel House will come very close.”

“A worthy cause and a woman with pure passion running it. It can’t be anything but successful. Congratulations again on making a man like me part with his money.” Roman chuckled. “You’ve staged a coup that doesn’t happen as often as it should. I would love it if you would allow me to take you to lunch to celebrate. Maybe we could discuss more ways I could be of service.”

The way he said service was . . . interesting. Nicole’s smile remained in place while her brain attempted to figure out what he meant. Was this invitation an innocent request, or was Roman coming on to me? She didn’t know. No—Nicole was being ridiculous. Her mind was just playing tricks on her. The man had just donated ten-million dollars to her organization. He was obviously interested in the cause. “Oh. Lunch? Unfortunately, I have a pressing personal matter that I need to attend to. However, I’m sure Ms. Lancaster would be more than happy to discuss other ways in which the foundation can work more closely with you.”

Roman’s eyes bore into hers. “I’m sure Ms. Lancaster could be helpful, but I would much rather work with you. So, if not lunch, let me take you to dinner. We could not only talk about the organization, but perhaps, we could have some personal conversation as well.”

The man was definitely flirting with her. That was unmistakable. Nicole cleared her throat. “Oh. I see. Well, as flattered as I am that you would like to have dinner, I don’t think my husband would approve.”

His eyes, dark as coal, glittered. “He doesn’t have to know, does he? I’m fine if you want to keep it . . . shall we say . . . between you and me.”

Nicole’s smile faltered. “Mr. Abboud, I understand you just donated millions of dollars, but, if it comes with strings, you can keep your money. I’ve heard you are a man of great integrity. So, forgive me if I’m mistaken.”

Roman bowed slightly. “You’re a beautiful woman, and I couldn’t resist. I apologize if I offended you. That was not my intention.”

She nodded. “Again, thank you for your generosity, and if there is nothing else, I must get going.” Nicole couldn’t believe it. She turned and walked away. The nerve of some men. They thought just because they were rich and powerful, it gave them permission to say or do whatever the hell they wanted. Maybe it worked with some women, but not with her. She quickly said her goodbyes, gathered her things and left.

Roman stared as he watched the sway of her hips and the curve of her ass when Nicole strutted away. She was perfect. Sculpted like a goddess, but sexier than anything was her fire. Nicole had done something men were afraid to do—she stood up to him—and he liked it—a lot. Roman continued to stare after her long after she was gone. She may have gotten away today, but there would be other opportunities. Roman would make sure of it. He quickly pulled out his cell to make a call. He may have to rethink a few things.

As Nicole made her way to the escalator stairs that led down to the elevators, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse to check for messages. There were several texts, but she ignored them all except for Jane’s. It was the first one.

Jane: DJ is okay. He has bronchitis and an ear infection. Dr. Swanson prescribed a different medication and gave him a dosage before we left the office. He’s sleeping and seems to be resting well.

Bronchitis? That was insane. She had to get to her son ASAP.

Nicole was just about to respond when she was nudged on the escalator. Actually, it felt more like a strong push. She looked up just as her feet slipped off the step she’d been standing on. Her phone, purse, and portfolio all went flying out of her hands. She tried to gain her balance, reaching out to grab hold of anything that would steady her, but her hands found nothing but air. Everything happened in slow motion. She could see herself falling down the flight of escalator stairs. Fortunately, there was no one in front of her that might get hurt, nor anyone to break her fall. She tumbled down the stairs, hitting her head every time she rolled over and scraping her legs and knees in the process. A sharp pain pierced her side. She could barely breathe.

Nicole’s head slammed particularly hard into something, sending her entire world into complete darkness.