Page 26 of Like You Love Me

“As long as it takes.” As the Director of Marketing for the Beaumont Corporation, she made the rules. “Unless you have someone here you don’t want to leave behind.” She was fishing, and the smirk on his lips meant he knew it.

“No, no one special here. Now down there… that’s a different story altogether.” Before she could ask, Chavez said, “My daughter lives there.”

“Your daughter?”

He nodded. “Yes.” Clearing his throat, he rose and met her stare. There was pain. A lot of pain. Probably had more to do with his daughter’s mother, she wondered and decided now was not the time to be nosy.

“Plan on leaving right after the auction.”

“The auction…” Chavez cringed. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome, and I will make sure you don’t forget. We’re depending on you to draw some big contributions for the community.”

“I am here to do whatever I can to serve.”

“Spread the word about the auction. We want to fill every seat in the community center.”

“I have friends in Dover spreading the word.”

“Thank you.” She studied his face. “Actually, you’re welcome to leave for Biloxi right after the auction. Maybe you can get down in time to enjoy Mardi Gras.”

He scowled. “I’ve had enough of New Orleans and Mardi Gras to last me a lifetime.”

As he left, Bianca’s eyes followed him. This time his steps held less confidence. His shoulders sagged slightly as if they were holding tremendous weight. She hoped that sending him to Biloxi, closer to his daughter, would bring the peace it appeared his mind needed.

Bianca reached inside her desk drawer, and the check for ten thousand dollars was staring up at her. She couldn’t help wondering if maybe Collin was also seeking peace.

London stabbed the packed snow again with the shovel, then scooped it up and tossed it into the pile behind him. He’d spent the last hour clearing the driveway with the snowblower so that his sister Mona Lisa would have the ability to pull her car in and out of the garage. Now, it was easier to use a shovel to clear the narrow sidewalk to the wide porch.

The large ranch-style house had once belonged to his parents. While London cleared the snow, he remembered all the weekends he and his father had spent doing the same thing. Clarence had been an amazing father and businessman. Two years ago, he had suffered another stroke. This one was more massive than the last. He and his sisters Mona Lisa, Denise, and the twins, Carmen, and Camille, had been trying to fill the hole in their lives ever since. After their father’s death, his older sister Mona Lisa had moved into the house with her husband, Caleb. London’s fingers tightened around the shovel as he angrily tossed another pile of snow to the side. Mona Lisa was married, yet he was over here clearing the snow so she could get to work.What was wrong with this picture?

“Are you ready to come inside and warm up?”

He swung around to find Mona Lisa standing inside the garage door in an oversized brown sweater and jeans. Her arms were hugging her trim middle.

His eyes shifted to assess the entire front yard before he nodded and said, “I’ll be in shortly.”

Mona Lisa quickly stepped out from the cold wind and went back inside the house. London tossed the final mound of snow, then made his way toward the front porch and grabbed the bag of salt. He spread salt along the sidewalk and driveway and made sure that he had applied enough to prevent the melted snow from freezing before closing the bag and putting the shovel away. He stepped into the laundry room and took a seat while removing the cold weather gear, then padded in thick black socks into the kitchen.

“Come, have a seat,” Mona Lisa insisted as she removed two mugs from the microwave and walked over to the kitchen table. London walked in as she emptied a package of cocoa into each mug and stirred before pushing one over to him.

“Thank you so much for doing that,” she said softly.

London cupped the mug with his hands, appreciating the warm feeling. “You know there isn’t anything I won’t do for you and my niece,” he said.

Mona Lisa hesitated, then nodded. While she walked across the room, his eyes studied her over the rim.

“Mona… you know I would never try to tell you what to do…” he began and purposely allowed his voice to trail off.

“Then don’t,” she replied. Mona Lisa carried over a bag of marshmallows and added several to her mug before reaching over and dumping several into his. “There is nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing?” he sputtered and then gave a harsh laugh. “Your husband is a drunk with a gambling problem.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and there was no mistaking the defensive rage that burned in the depths along with the look of denial before the dark cloud cleared, and he saw the regret. “He says he’s going to get help.”

“When? He’s been saying that for the last year, and since then, he’s gone through your savings.”

Her bottom lip quivered, and he almost regretted being so harsh, but someone needed to tell her. Camille and Carmen had called him this morning to say Mona Lisa couldn’t get out the driveway to get to work and that she couldn’t afford to pay someone to come and clear the yard. As soon as he’d heard, he’d picked up the phone to send someone over but opted to do it himself and use the excuse to get a few minutes alone with his sister. According to Camille, Caleb hadn’t been home in a few days.

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