Flamingo Place (Mills & Boon Kimani) (13 page)

Eileen gaped. Her tongue practically touched the floor.

“You know each other?”

“Yes, we do.” Jen laid a playful hand on Tre’s forearm. “Trestin and I live in the same building. He’s my noisy next-door neighbor.”

“Too funny. You’ve been holding out on me, Jen,” Eileen said. “Who would think you and D’Dawg lived in the same building? It just goes to show you, you can separate the professional from the personal.”

“D’Dawg?” Jen stared at him.

“My radio personality,” Tre said smoothly because
what else was there to say. “Didn’t I tell you I was in communications?”

The enormity of it all took a while to sink in. What a set he had. The balls of him to stand there acting all cavalier.

“Yes, you did mention something like that,” she managed, conscious of Eileen and Barry’s interest. “I guess I just wasn’t listening closely and didn’t put two and two together.”

Jen forced herself to keep a smile on her face, and her hand on his forearm, while her next-door neighbor, the bane of her existence, looked down at her with sultry, brown bedroom eyes.

She wanted to slap that grin off his face. He’d made a fool of her.

And she’d make sure she let him know just how upset she was. Big-time. Just wait until she got him alone!

T
his was the
infamous D’Dawg, the man who’d put her reputation at risk and attacked her credibility. To think he lived right next door to her.

Now Jen understood the loud music, the posturing, the strange hours and the groupies at his door. No, she wasn’t being fair. There had also been a kind, caring side to him, hidden behind all that bluster. She’d even begun to like the man.

“Life is strange, isn’t it?” Eileen continued with a bemused expression on her face. “Here the two of you are at each other’s…Ouch.”

“Sorry, awfully
clumsy of me.”

Jen removed her high heel off of Eileen’s instep. She hadn’t meant to step on her colleague’s foot that hard. But at least it had shut her up, and that was Jen’s goal.

Knowledge was power. Jen now knew of Trestin’s other persona but he still didn’t know she was
Dear Jenna.
Therefore she had the upper hand. She planned on keeping it that way for as long as possible.

“So that’s why you kept your career a secret,” she gushed and playfully punched his arm. All the while her insides roiled and a red-hot anger consumed her. He’d lied all along, pretending he didn’t know about the controversy and didn’t listen to the D’Dawg show. He didn’t listen, he
was
the show. “I can’t believe I live next door to someone famous.”

Eileen wisely kept her counsel, looking from one to the other. She’d gotten the message loud and clear.

“I’ve never considered myself famous,” Tre graciously said, “I’m just doing what I’ve always done, entertain people. Some appreciate my unique brand of humor. Some do not.”

“You do a good job. I love your show and I especially enjoyed the way you poked fun at
Dear Jenna.
What was it you called her?”

“Aunt Jemima!” Chere, who’d returned from the
bathroom and must have been listening carefully, supplied. If nothing else, she caught on quickly. She was streetwise and smart and hopefully would keep her mouth shut.

“You’re ‘the dog,’” she said loudly. “Oops! I mean the on-air personality, the man who couldn’t find his mama.”

Tre nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact I’m still looking for her.”

Chere pointed a golden nail in the direction of the ladies’room. “Your mama and that loud senior citizen are in the bathroom. Want me to get them for you?”

Tre looked exasperated. Jen actually felt sorry for him. During their last dinner he’d alluded to the fact his mother was a handful.

“Yes, please. It’s bedtime for them. I’ll come with you.” He nodded goodbye to Jen and the Browns and plodded after Chere.

“You didn’t know he was D’Dawg, did you?” Eileen said when Tre was well out of earshot.

“No, I didn’t have a clue.”

Eileen lowered her voice confidentially, “You do realize he’s interested in you.”

“No, he’s not.”

Denial was safe. But even as Jen shook her head
she remembered his searing kisses and her passionate reaction to them.

How could something like this have happened? She’d sworn off men, wanted nothing to do with them. Didn’t trust them period, especially after Anderson.

“What are you going to do about him?” Eileen asked while Barry, her husband, maintained a poker face and offered no comment.

What was she going to do about Trestin now that she knew who he was? Eventually he would find out she was
Dear Jenna.
Any comfortable rapport they’d established would quickly come to an end. Meanwhile she could have fun with him. She just had to make sure her heart was protected in the process. A woman could only stand so much hurt.

“Mother,” Tre said, two days later as they rode in the Porsche. “Is Café Singles the site you posted on?”

“Why are you asking?” Marva pretended to fumble for something in her purse.

“No particular reason.”

He’d decided to take his mother with him to the grand opening of a new car dealership. D’Dawg was the featured celebrity and Miriam Young, “the Flip-Flop Momma,” Mayor Rabinowitz’s competition, was supposed to show up.

With
the election now less than a week away, things were heating up. Today, because it was a weekend, the new Ford dealership expected a record turnout. Marva had wanted to accompany him, claiming she wanted to see him in action doing his disk jockey thing. She was especially fascinated by Miriam Young, the feisty single parent willing to shake up the old boys.

The convertible’s roof was down and a balmy breeze blew through the interior. Tre, sensing Marva was avoiding conflict, pushed a little.

“You placed an advertisement on a dating site on my behalf. I asked you to remove it and I want to make sure you did.”

Marva sniffed. She could turn the waterworks on and off when it was convenient. “I told you I canceled it. Why don’t you believe me?”

“I’m just trying to avoid any further embarrassing incidents. I have a reputation to maintain, Mother. I can’t afford to come off as desperate and needing my mother to find me a mate.” Tre took his eyes off the road momentarily. “Hopefully I’ve convinced you I’m not gay.”

Marva cackled. “You did. What’s happening with 5C?”

“We’ve been out a couple of times.”

That’s
all she needed to know and that was all he planned on telling her.

“And?”

“And nothing, Mother. She’s an interesting woman and a beautiful one.”

“Yes, I picked that up. Even the mouthpiece down the hall thinks so.”

“Mouthpiece?”

“Camille Lewis.”

In the short time she’d been there, Marva sure managed to get around.

They pulled into a space at the Ford dealership. Tre helped his mother out of the front seat then made sure he got the crate holding the CDs and autographed photos he was going to give away, out of the trunk.

The radio station’s van was already parked, and Bill, the assistant producer, had set up the wheel of fortune. They would be giving away the CDs, photographs and other promotional items to a few lucky winners. Overhead a large orange blimp floated. The words WARP Celebrates The Opening Of Ferris Ford were embla-zoned in purple. You couldn’t miss the blimp. The orange against a blue sky with puffy white clouds was an eye-catcher.

“I have to get to work, Mother,” Tre said. “There’s complimentary refreshments over there, plus the local
vendors are giving out samples of products. You can even get free newspapers. Both
The Tribune
and
Chronicle
are on the premises. Try not to get into trouble.”

“I want to see the Flip-Flop Momma, hear what she has to say.”

With a wave of her hand, Marva was off, wending her way toward the area where the vendors and a makeshift stage had been set up. Glad she seemed happy and occupied, Tre headed off to work.

Bill, his assistant producer, was a red-haired kid with freckles and an optimistic attitude.

“Hey, Tre,” he greeted. “We’ve already had several women by to see you. I told them you were running late. The box with the drawing for that Fun Ship cruise is full, you might want to empty it.”

Tre removed the business cards and folded pieces of paper from the box. He stuffed them into an envelope Bill gave him. One of their sponsors, advertising themselves as the most popular cruise line in the world, had donated a cruise for two. That marketing move was driving quite a bit of business.

Word soon got out D’Dawg was there and people started to drift over. Tre pumped more hands than he cared to count and kissed ladies of every ethnic makeup. As he paused to take a sip of water, his
thoughts turned to Jen. He’d been so busy entertaining his mother, and making sure she stayed out of trouble, he’d not followed through on his plans of seduction. The way he felt about her he wasn’t sure seduction was now quite the right word.

Marva and Jen had somehow managed to meet without him introducing them. But he wanted to see for himself how they interacted. Both were strong personalities in totally different ways. Maybe what he needed to do was take them out for a day in the sun. His boat was moored at the Flamingo Beach public docks but he seldom had time to use it.

It was an indulgence, just like the Porsche was, but the speedboat was something he’d always wanted. Tre had purchased the boat secondhand, reasoning what was the point of living in a waterfront community if you didn’t take advantage of all it had to offer?

He’d grown up poor in Detroit. He and his mother and brother had barely gotten by. Expensive cars and boats were luxuries seen only on television. Now it felt good to know that his hard work and ambition had paid off and that if he chose to, he could own things that he’d only been able to dream of. This was another reason buying the apartment was so important to him. Few members of his family were home owners.

“How’s
your mother?” a female voice brayed, pulling him out of his meanderings.

Tre looked up into the smiling face of the haystack he’d encountered the other night at the library. He searched his memory. Chere something-or-other.

“Chere Adams,” she reminded him.

“My mother? She’s around somewhere,” he answered, gesturing toward the vendor area. “She wanted to hear Miriam Young.” Dare he ask if her friend accompanied her? No, let her bring it up.

“So how do I enter this contest?” Chere asked, stabbing a finger at the cruise entry box.

“Put your business card in. If you don’t have one—” he doubted she did “—write your name on this form.” Tre shoved a slip of paper at her.

Chere Adams surprised him by removing a couple of business cards from her oversized rattan bag and flipping them into the box.

“Fix it so I win,” she said shamelessly.

Tre winked at her. “Sure. But who you going take with you if you win?”

“My buddy.”

“Your buddy got a name?”

Chere smiled provocatively. “She your next door neighbor. By the way, you still on Café Singles?”

“What?”

Another
knowing smile followed. “Well your photo ain’t posted if that’s what you’re worried about. But I read the profile and it seems pretty obvious to me.”

He was going to kill his mother, murder her with his bare hands.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tre denied.

“Sure you do. Your mama wrote to
Dear Jenna
about you when she thought you were gay.” Busted! The woman was a heck of a lot smarter than he gave her credit for, and downright shrewd, too. “Hmmmm. Wonder if my buddy knows you’re on a dating site? Maybe I should tell her.”

“Now don’t you do that.”

“Why not?”

A flurry of activity behind the Adams woman got his attention. Five or six teenyboppers clutching the pictures Bill was giving out at the entrance, advanced.

“D’Dawg! Oh, my God!”

“Tre Monroe. You’re my idol. I love you.”

“I just want to touch you, D’Dawg.”

“I want to have your baby.”

Chere burst out laughing. “Looks like you’re busy. I’ll make room for your fan club. Make sure I win.”

She clomped off on platform shoes that looked wicked. Tre’s attention now turned to the squealing
teenagers who were jumping up and down. The next half an hour passed quickly.

There were fifteen minutes left before he could pack up. Now the crowd had thinned considerably. Tre spotted his mother toddling toward him. She looked exhausted and was laden down by bags filled with freebies. So far there was still not one word about high blood pressure or out-of-control diabetes.

Tre pulled out the chair Bill had vacated. “Here, Mother, take a seat.”

Marva sank into it gratefully. “You want to see what I got? I can’t wait to get back to Detroit and show Mrs. Calhoun how Florida parties.”

He couldn’t wait, either. “Later, Mother, later. As soon as Bill gets back we’ll take off.”

Marva wasn’t listening. She pulled a fanny pack out of one of the bags and held it up. “I got this for Ida.”

“That was thoughtful of you.”

A T-shirt with a wild beach scene followed. The front of the shirt read
Ride The Wave With The Flamingo Beach Chronicle.

“And this is what that nice girl from 5C gave to me,” Marva chortled. “Now wasn’t that sweet?”

“Jen gave you the shirt?” Tre asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. “She’s here?”

“Yes, we were standing together listening to
Miriam Young talk about her platform. Afterward she handed it to me.”

“You get along with 5C?” Tre asked, surprising himself by holding his breath while waiting for her answer.

“Oh, yes, very much so. I think she’s perfect for you. She’d keep you on your toes. By the way, I smoothed the way for you. I told her you were interested. The ball’s in your court, son. Don’t drop it.”

“T
re
asked me to go out on his boat,” Jen said to Chere later that week when they were working at home. There was no point in keeping it a secret. Chere already knew they’d been out a time or two; they’d even been jogging together. The minute Jen stepped foot on Tre’s boat it would be all over town anyway.

“Interesting,” Chere offered, looking up from the pile of letters she was going through. She wore rhinestone harlequin glasses that made her look like a well-fed cat. “I wonder what he’s up to.”

“You are suspicious? I’m rubbing off on you.” Jen
took that opportunity to stand and stretch. She’d been hunched over a computer for way too long. “And I told him I would provide the eats.”

“Generous of you. You know he’s on Café Singles?”

For a beat too long, Jen stared out the window and onto an angry-looking bay. White-crested waves tossed little sailboats around and the sky above was heavy with storm clouds. It was too early for hurricanes but not too early for the afternoon rains that came and went as quickly as they began.

“Where have I heard the name before?” Jen asked. “What is it anyway?”

“The most popular site for African-Americans looking to get hooked up.”

“And you’re on it?”

Chere smiled enigmatically.

A wicked idea was beginning to formulate in Jen’s mind. “Log onto the site. Let me take a look.”

“Jen, you’re up to no good.”

“I am?”

She knew her smile was positively wicked. She was enjoying this.

Chere found Café Singles and quickly entered using a password.

“As I thought,” Jen said. “You’re already a member.”

Chere’s smile matched hers. “Well, a girl can’t
sit home these days and wait for men to come calling.” She scrolled through a number of profiles then brought up the one she thought was Tre’s. “Here he is.”

Taking her time, Jen read thoughtfully. “Well, it certainly sounds like him,” she announced after she was through.

“So what’s next? You got a digital photo?” Chere asked.

“Sure thing. I have my
Dear Jenna
photo.”

Chere’s eyes went wide. “Puh-lease, not that ugly old thing with you wearing that zoot suit.”

“That’s the one I’m using.”

With that Chere began laughing so hard she was actually hiccupping. In a joint effort they uploaded the photo. “That boy’s going be mad when he finds out. How you going to sign your e-mail, Aunt Jemima?” Chere dissolved in laughter again, her double chins bobbing.

“I just might.” Leaning over her assistant’s shoulders, Jen began typing. Before she could change her mind she hit the send button.

“Let’s get back to work, shall we?” she said, no sooner had Chere hoisted herself off the chair.

“I’ll be back as soon as I find something to eat in
your refrigerator. Just looking at that stack of letters is enough to make me hungry.”

With that Chere waddled off.

Now it was wait and see if Marva got her message.

Sunday turned out to be the perfect day for boating. Tre, after checking in with Jen, asked if she minded taking his mother with her down to the docks. He planned on getting there earlier to make sure the Chris Craft was clean and ready to go. He’d hired a deckhand to clean the boat thoroughly but without close supervision one never knew.

Satisfied the work had been completed, Tre stood at the entrance of the public dock waiting for his mother and Jen to arrive. Initially he’d had some trepidation about leaving the two alone but then he’d figured his mother had already been in Jen’s company unsupervised, so whatever damage had been done would have occurred even before.

While waiting, Tre examined his real reasons for throwing the two together. He’d wanted to see for himself how Marva and Jen got along. He’d been toying with the idea of pursuing 5C, and not just for the seduction he’d initially planned. Almost overnight it had struck him that this was exactly the kind of woman he was looking for. Jen was serious but had
a playful side to her. She seemed outgoing and capable of handling herself, yet at the same time vulnerable, and there was an element of mystery that surrounded her. He wanted to unravel that mystery.

The Miata pulled into a vacant spot. Jen raced from the driver’s side and came around to help his mother out. Jen was dressed for boating, wearing white shorts and a black-and-white T-shirt. A jaunty red sailor hat covered hair that had been pulled back into a ponytail. White sneakers and black socks, the kind with the pom-poms peeking over the back, completed the look.

His mother, though more covered up, went with the tropical theme. She was wearing a wild-looking thing that he’d seen ladies in Hawaii wear during luaus. Her wide-brimmed hat had colorful flowers that bobbed when she spoke. And she was speaking a mile a minute, as she usually did.

Tre waved to them as they began approaching the docks. He could see his mother’s expression clearly now and a beaming smile wreathed her face. He exhaled a breath. The two were getting along quite well. He also noticed the picnic basket Jen carried, the one she’d promised to bring.

Tre greeted his ladies with a kiss on each cheek. His mother wore the heavy fragrance that she always did, and Jen smelled like citrus.

“
Noir
is
anchored at the far dock,” he announced. “Are you ladies up for the walk?”

“Sure,” his mother puffed. He noticed she had twined an arm through Jen’s. The two were as thick as thieves.

“Can I help you with that?” Tre was already wrestling Jen for the basket’s handle.

She relinquished it. Mindful that his mother was not exactly a lightweight, and getting up there in age, they meandered slowly toward the boat.

The rented deckhand that most of the community used had finished hosing down the deck and polishing the chrome. The boat sparkled invitingly under the sun.

“Oh, my lord,” Marva said, bringing a plump hand to her heart. “You’ve made it, boy.”

“I’m not quite there yet.” Tre kept his expression bland but was secretly delighted at his mother’s joy. It felt good to know she was proud of him. “I have bigger plans so I can get bigger toys.”

“These seem pretty big to me.”

Tre could not see Jen’s expression because her eyes were hidden behind huge sunglasses. She waited until they were seated on the deck, his mother ensconced on the built-in bench at the back, and she in the front next to him to say, “Bigger plans. How much bigger can they get?”

He
started up the boat, shouting over the noise of the motor. “I’ve always wanted to be on the air in New York City. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a boy.”

“You do think big. What’s your plan to get there?”

They were slowly chugging out to the open bay, passing boats with families and singles out for a day of fun in the sun. Tre inhaled the smell of salt, loving it.

“I started off broadcasting during college,” Tre began. Jen, all ears, listened intently. “Just the local college radio. It was fun, made me feel like a big man. And I was good at it. After I graduated I was lucky to get a job in a little town in Missouri. That lasted all of a year before I was fired. Since then, I’ve worked in backwater towns in Georgia and Louisiana. Then I hit the big time. I landed a job in Boston, cohosting a show.”

“That’s impressive. Boston’s a big urban city, a quick shuttle flight to New York. Why didn’t you stay?”

“Because I found that city just a bit too stuffy. Plus WARP came to me with this offer. It was an opportunity to have my own show and they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. They were already thinking ahead, anticipating the Northeast baby boomers would be buying homes on the Florida Coast and would miss a particular broadcasting style.”

“So
you’re the answer to urban withdrawal. But didn’t you tell me you were from Detroit?”

“He is,” Marva chimed in from her throne in the back. She was tired of being silent. “A born and bred Michigan boy.” How she’d heard the conversation over the noise of the motor was anyone’s guess.

Jen shot Marva a dazzling white smile before turning back to him.

“And you, you still haven’t told me what you do.”

“I think I’ll go keep your mother company for a while,” was her answer as she slid off her chair. “Be back shortly.”

Tre had been surprised that she’d not had a much stronger reaction to his radio persona when she’d found out. He hadn’t expected her to fawn all over him but he had expected her to demand answers or at least accuse him of lying. Not that he’d lied outright. He’d just omitted a few essential details about his career. It occurred to him that Jen wasn’t exactly forthcoming about her career either and he wondered what that was about.

All that could wait to be pondered later. It was a lovely day and he didn’t plan on ruining it. Jen and Marva were getting along famously and his mother was not the easiest person in the world. In fact she
could be downright cantankerous at times when the mood struck her.

Tre steered the boat into a secluded cove where there were picnic tables and benches and a small beach where people swam. Heron Bay was one of the better kept secrets in North Florida.

“We’re here, ladies,” he announced, slowing the boat down and angling it into the slip, preparing to drop anchor.

“Would you like help with that?” Jen asked. She’d already sprung up and jumped ashore before he could stop her. “Throw me that rope.”

It surprised him how competent she was at tying the boat to the dock.

“Thank you. You make a good mate,” he said jokingly after he’d helped Marva off.

“Yes, she does,” his mother said, nodding enthusiastically.

They spent the day walking around the small island and cooling off in the water when they got overly warm. Tre received an unexpected treat when Jen stripped down to a modest red bikini with red clasps holding the bottom and top together. He stopped himself one note short of a wolf whistle.

For a moment Jen’s hazel eyes flashed, then she summoned a smile. “Was that a compliment?”

His
mother for once kept her mouth shut. Her expression indicated she knew something they didn’t. After a while they found a shady spot and devoured the contents of Jen’s picnic basket.

“I think I’m going to take a nap,” Marva said. She pointed a finger. “Right over there in that shady spot where they have lounge chairs you can rent.”

“Good idea,” Tre said, suddenly wanting to be alone with Jen. Although she had put her shorts back on, that little red bikini was beginning to get to him.

“You two have fun.” Marva twiddled her fingers in their direction.

They set off down a path with a sign that said, Nature Walk. Tre pointed out some of the foliage and flora native to Florida. Jen looked at him curiously. “How come you know so much about all of this?” She gestured with two hands, the nails meticulously trimmed.

“Would you believe,” he said, capturing one of those expansive hands in his, “that I was a botany major?”

“Get out.”

“My minor was communications.”

She frowned. “Now that’s a puzzling combination.”

“Not really. I wanted to be versatile and prepared for anything.”

They’d
come to a nature preserve. Flamingos, ibises and herons roamed freely.

“Boy, do I wish I’d brought my camera,” Jen said, leaning over the railing separating humans from the birds.

“I have this,” Tre offered, handing her his cell phone. “Modern technology makes all things possible.”

She snapped a couple of shots and let him look at them.

“Not bad as digitals go.”

They walked some more, this time admiring the caged panthers and a watery inlet which was supposedly alligator-infested, although none of the gators so much as raised their heads.

Wanting to relax, Tre sank onto a little wooden bench and patted the spot next to him.

“Are you thinking of making that purchase we spoke of?” he asked.

“You mean, buying the condo?”

“Yes, I heard there aren’t that many left. The residents are snapping them up at the insiders’ price.”

“I suppose I should do something, and quickly.”

“It will be a good investment. You can’t lose, even if you decide not to stay.”

She looked at him curiously. “I recently sold a house, packed up everything I owned and moved to
Flamingo Beach. I have no plans to go anywhere in a hurry.”

“That must mean you like our little town,” he said, his index finger taking on a life of its own, and touching the tip of her nose.

Jen wiggled her nose and smiled at him. “I do, although it took some getting used to. I mean Ashton was not exactly a big city. The Midwest is a pretty laid-back place and fairly accepting of pretty much everything and everyone. Flamingo Beach is…well…”

“The south?”

“Exactly. It seems mired in tradition. Here’s a town where the majority of people are African-American yet people don’t seem to mingle. You’ve got whites living on one side and blacks on the other.”

“Except for our complex. Our residents seem to mingle peaceably. From what I understand it was the architect’s vision to offer truly multicultural living.”

“Ah, to realize a dream.”

“You must have one,” he insisted. “We all do.”

“I do. Mine is to be completely self-sufficient.”

“By that you mean you don’t want a man in your life?”

Tre held his breath even as his hands wandered. His runaway fingers traced a path across her cheeks before floating downward to cup Jen’s chin.

“No, by
that I mean that I am never ever going to so totally fall in love that I lose sight of other important things in life.”

“Like what?” Tre asked, leaning over and kissing her cheek. He twined his fingers through hers and forced her to look at him. Was that the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes?

“Like my health and happiness and like remaining my own person,” Jen said, and yes, those were real tears. “I’ll always have a career because that’s the only thing you’ll have when it’s over with.”

“You’ve been hurt,” he said matter-of-factly and kissed her. This time it wasn’t a teasing kiss but one so passion-filled he was close to losing his head. Jen frustrated him with her secrecy. If only he could break down the barriers and get to know the woman a little bit. Would she let him?