Deliver Me (19 page)

“Best cooking you can find, other than my mother’s kitchen, of course.”

“Mmmm...Southern soul food.” Nia smacked her lips. “That’s sounds
wonderful.”

“I’ll see the two of you
in an hour,” Eli said. Before Monica knew what he was about, he took her chin
in his hand and placed a brief kiss on her cheek. Then he darted around his
SUV, hopped behind the wheel and was gone.

“Giiiirl,” Nia dragged the word out. “I should have your behind for not
telling me about him.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“The hell there’s not. Were we both looking at the same man? I know the
man I just saw was about the finest I’ve seen in all my life.”

“I’m sure Phillip would appreciate hearing you say that.”

Nia waved her off. “I have to hear him fantasizing about Tyra Banks.”

“Big difference. That snow cone you’re eating has a better chance
surviving in hell than Phillip has of getting Tyra Banks.”

“Don’t tell him that, honey. He thinks all it’ll take is an introduction.
I told him if he’s lucky enough to get Tyra to even give him the time of day,
go for it.”

Monica shook her head. “I will never understand your relationship.”

They entered the apartment building and Nia knocked on the door of the
building manager. She retrieved her bags from the holding room and followed
Monica up stairs.

“I want to know why this is the first I’m hearing of Dr. Holmes? I cannot
believe you’ve been seeing this man and didn’t tell me, Mon.”

“I’m not seeing him. Well, not really.” Monica unlocked the door to her
apartment and held it open for Nia.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She debated whether or not to tell Nia the truth about the deal she’d
made with Eli, but Monica knew withholding the whole story could be
detrimental. If her best friend thought for the slightest minute that Monica
and Eli’s relationship was even remotely real, Nia would be on her butt like
red beans on rice.

She mentally rolled her eyes. She was beginning to think like a New
Orleanian.

“Before you go getting any ideas, let me explain what’s going on between
me and Dr. Holmes.”

Nia plopped down on the sofa, crossed her legs and propped her elbow on
her knee. “Explain away.”

Monica took a deep breath. “Elijah and I are colleagues, nothing more.”

“Hmm...well, I didn’t realize colleagues saw each other on their days
off—you did tell me you were off today, right? That’s the reason I flew
in, because I distinctly remember you telling me you were going to be off.”

“I—”

“And,” Nia continued, “I didn’t realize colleagues had dates. My ears
were not deceiving me when I heard Dr. Fine say the two of you had a date.”

“Would you please shut up,” Monica sighed. “My goodness, girl. You should
have gone to law school instead of getting an MBA.”

“My verbal skills come in handy in the boardroom, thank you very much.”

“You probably tire everybody out.”

“Why are you so cranky? Aren’t you supposed to loosen up after getting
some?”

“Nia!” Monica picked up a pillow from her armchair and threw it at her.

Nia dodged it, nearly doubling over with laughter. “I’m sorry.” She took
the pillow and placed in daintily in her lap. “Now, you were telling me how
this extremely fine doctor you’re dating is just a colleague.”

“Really, I’m not dating him. We have an...agreement.”

Nia’s mouth dropped open. “You’re using him for sex! You
go
, girl!” she exclaimed, clapping her
hands.

Monica threw her hands in the air. “I’m through with you. I don’t know
why I even bother.”

“Well, what then?” Nia groaned.

“Forget it. If I tell you what’s really going on, I won’t hear the end of
it. So just go on thinking whatever you want.”

Nia rose from the sofa and came to sit on the edge of the armchair. She
brushed a few strands of hair from Monica’s face. “Mon, please. Tell me what’s
going on. If you’re not dating him, then what’s up?”

“You promise to hold your opinions until the very end.” It was a demand.

Nia made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Promise.”

By the time Monica finished explaining the deal she’d made with Eli, she
thought she would have to find a bucket for Nia to puke in.

“I can’t believe this,” Nia said in a dazed whisper. “I just cannot
believe it.”

“What’s so hard to believe? We’re both benefiting from the situation.”

“But look at him, Monica! If I didn’t love my husband more than my own
life, I’d be going after him. You, on the other hand, have every reason to make
a play for him. You’re beautiful, single, and in need of a man.”

“I am not in need of a man. Goodness, Nia, you make me sound desperate.”

“It would get your mind off Patrick.”

“I have not thought about Patrick Dangerfield since...”

Monica thought it better to shut up while she was ahead. Nia could always
tell when she was lying, and if she said she hadn’t thought about Patrick since
she arrived in New Orleans, Nia would see straight through her. Still, just
because she had the occasional thought about her ex-boyfriend, it didn’t mean
she needed to jump into another relationship—especially with Eli, a man
who made it a rule not to date women of his own profession. For some reason,
that still irritated her.

Nia crossed her arms over her chest, and Monica knew she was in trouble. “Give
me one good reason why you don’t want to date Dr. Fine.”

“Would you stop calling him that!”

“Okay, give me one good reason why you don’t want to date Dr. Holmes.”

“Because I don’t want to. That’s all the reason you need.”

“Maybe for someone who doesn’t care, but that’s not gonna cut it with me,
baby doll.”

“Nia, please.” Monica could feel a headache coming on. She knew this
would happen if Nia found out about their arrangement. “Even if I wanted this
to be real—which I definitely do not want,” Monica clarified. “I’m not
the only one who has a say in it. Anyway, I’m not the type of woman Dr. Holmes
dates.”

“Then why would he ask you to pretend?”

“I already told you, because his mother is pressuring him to get back
together with his high school sweetheart. He knew if she thought he was dating
an upstanding, respectable woman, she’d lay off.”

“And, of course, your only reason for dating him just
has
to be work related. I swear, girl,
you are just like the rest of your family. I have never seen a set of people
more married to their jobs.”

If there was one issue that came between them, this was it. No matter how
many times she tried to explain, Nia would never understand that for Monica,
work
was
all she needed.

“I just want you to be
happy,” Nia said, dropping her hands to Monica’s shoulders and giving her a
light squeeze.

Monica patted her hand. “I am happy. Really. Moving here was a good
thing. I’m loving my job, and the people I work with, and if it’ll make you
feel better, I think about Patrick less and less each day.”

“I want you to forget his name,” Nia said. Her voice was stern, but
Monica could feel the compassion behind her statement. Nia cared.

“I will,” Monica promised. “Eventually, I will.”

The two best friends stood for a moment holding each other. Nia was the
first to move.

“Come on, girl. We’ve got a fine man picking us up in a half-hour. I’m
ready to have some fun.”

Monica shook her head, and said a small prayer for the city of New
Orleans. With Nia on the loose, God knows it would need it.

Eli pulled at the hem of his wheat-colored cashmere sweater, making sure
it was in place. He ran a hand over his head and down his cheeks, then stared
at the doorbell labeled M. Gardner. What was it about this woman that had him
acting like a teenager going on his first date?

This dating scheme wasn’t going exactly as he’d planned. He hadn’t
expected this to feel so, well,
right
.
There was something about the way she smiled at him when she knew he was
pulling her leg. Or, maybe it was the way she had meshed so well with his
family. A couple of times this afternoon when he looked over at the card table
and caught her laughing, or when she went over to the swing set to push Jasmine
on the swings, Eli couldn’t help but think how much she seemed to belonged
there.

Just as he was about to ring the bell, the door opened. It was Monica.

“Hi. Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s all right. Nia’s still getting ready.” She scooted past him. “I
need to get something out of my car.”

“Do you need help?”

“No, I think I can handle getting a tube of lipstick by myself.” She
smiled. “Go on up. I’m in 2B. Maybe you can light a fire under Nia’s tail.”

Eli looked up and down the street. Even though it was illuminated by the
Old World-style street lamps, this was still the French Quarter at night. He
wasn’t about to leave her out here alone.

“I’ll come with you to your car.”

Monica’s eyes lit with laughter. “You do realize I go outside alone on a
regular basis, right?”

“This city may be safer than it used to be, but it’s not Disneyland. A
lot can happen to a single woman on these streets.”

“Thanks for the concern, Dr. Holmes, but I’m a big girl. I can take care
of myself.”

To hell with her objections. She was the perfect target for some vagrant
or drunken reveler.

“I’m not leaving you out here, so we can either stand in this doorway for
another hour or we can get your lipstick.”

Monica shook her head, the smile still tilting her lips. “Suit yourself.”

As she led the way to her car, for the first time since she opened the
door, Eli noticed what she was wearing. Her black top was made of a soft,
stretchy fabric that clung to her perfectly shaped breasts. It ended right
above the top of her jeans, providing a glimpse of smooth, mocha-colored skin.

Eli’s mouth went dry.

He followed a few steps behind her, focusing on a nice, round butt clad
in dark blue jeans. Her hips flared slightly, creating the perfect spot for his
hands to grab onto.

Monica unlocked her car and leaned into the passenger-side doorway,
leaving her butt in the air. Eli had to bite down on his lower lip to keep from
groaning out loud. He itched to pull her from the car and drape her over the
hood. He could have her out of those clothes in a heartbeat.

For a brief second, Eli closed his eyes and imagined what her underwear
looked like. She was too fine to wear plain white. No, Monica Gardner looked
like a black lace kinda girl. His body instantly hardened with the thought of
peeling silky lingerie from her soft brown skin.

“See,” she said, coming up with a lipstick tube. “I even managed not to
trip on the sidewalk, but having you here to help made all the difference.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a smart alec,” Eli drawled.

“Only when it’s warranted.”

“I was wondering where you’d gone off to.” Nia came out of the building
dressed in a tasteful, but definitely sexy hot pink halter-top and matching
leather pants.

“Are we ready to go?” Eli asked.

“I just need to run upstairs and grab my purse,” Monica said.

“Got it,” Nia said. A small black bag hung from her fingertips.

“All right then.” Eli led them to his Rover. He opened both doors on the
passenger side and waited from them to get in, Monica in the front and Nia in
the back. Then he closed the doors, rounded the car and got behind the wheel.

“Nia, is this your first time in New Orleans?” Eli asked as he pulled
away from the curb and headed up Dumaine Street.

“I was here for Mardi Gras my sophomore year of college, but I can’t
remember a thing.”

“Thankfully, I missed that trip,” Monica interjected.

“I do remember it being unique, and that hasn’t changed,” Nia said as
they passed a saxophonist leaning against an ornate street lamp at the corner
of Dumaine and Decatur. The horn’s sweet sounding melody wafted in even through
the Rover’s closed windows. “It’s fascinating.”

“That’s one thing Katrina couldn’t take away,” Eli said. “There’s no
place like New Orleans.”

“The city seems to be recovering well,” Nia commented.

Eli shrugged. “Depends on where you are. The downtown area is almost back
to normal, but some of the outlying neighborhoods look like they did the day
after the storm hit. It’s all going to come back, though. It’ll take a lot more
than a hurricane to break this city’s spirit. Now how about some New
Orleans-style soul food?” he asked.

“Umm...sounds wonderful,” Nia answered.