The Color Of Love: A BWWM Billionaire Alpha Male Romance (4 page)

The set up for the
food was not in the lobby as Victoria had imagined, but in a separate
dining area that gave a full view of the stage - very convenient for
a dinner show. Busying themselves with the setting of the buffet
table and instructing the resident staff on how things were done
Palette style, they gave little notice to the fine linen on each
table or the elegant upholstered chairs that resembled something from
the Victorian era - classy indeed.

It was when Abby
didn’t respond to Victoria’s request to prepare the
executive plates for the directors, that she looked around to find
out what was distracting her usually focused friend.
She was staring blankly at the set watching the
exchange between a tall, slender man and the actors on the stage. She
had to call Abby’s name twice before she gauged any reaction
from her.

“Abby…
Abby, I’m talking to you!” Victoria said. Reluctantly
Abby tore her eyes away from whatever was captivating her and
whispered, “Do you see him… the one shouting at the
people on the stage? He’s the owner of this place and the other
DMC business. I also hear he has a string of high end hotels. Isn’t
he scrumptious?”

Victoria rarely saw
her friend love struck and decided to inspect just who had her so
smitten. Admittedly, the man she pointed out was striking. His jaw
line was angular and reminded her of the men often seen on the cover
of romance novels. His hair was blonde and the skin on his exposed
collar and arms were tanned. Only when he turned away from the stage
did Victoria catch a glimpse of his green eyes which seemed to be
sparking fire. His sleeves were rolled up and his fist thrust in his
pockets as he walked away from the stage with a stubborn but debonair
strut. It was clear to see why he was the head man in charge. His
presence alone commanded compliance.

Abby waited
patiently for her to agree that Dawson Ledger was a masterpiece and
grudgingly Victoria nodded. Secretly, she thought he was a bit
arrogant. There was no need to yell at the actors and actress so
aggressively. He was an angry show off in her view.

As the actors and
other staff rolled through to enjoy the night’s preparations,
Victoria and Abby received many compliments on their menu selections.
Quite a few faces appeared asking for seconds and even the staff
helping them serve the food snuck a bite or two. A woman looking as
pressured as the man in the headset appeared and asked for Victoria
by name.

She was pleasant
enough but for a young woman she looked haggard and hence, too much
makeup was packed on in an attempt to look fresh. It was
unsuccessful. Acknowledging her name, Victoria stepped forward and
introduced herself.

“Hello, I am
Victoria Jones, the Creative Director of Palette.”

Sara responded with
a firm handshake before saying, “I just wanted to let you know
that my boss is thrilled with the creations you served tonight. He
also asked me to say that he would be down in a few minutes to
personally thank you for such stellar service. Good job!”

Never one to reveal
her emotion through her facial expression, Victoria acted like any
successful business owner - gracious and humble. She bowed and
thanked Sara for the glowing comments before admitting, “It was
my pleasure to work for a creative venture such as this. It really is
a place for artistry and I am inspired.”

With another firm
handshake, Sara disappeared and Victoria turned to Abby and gave her
a thumbs up. Going against her will was the best thing Abby ever did.
The clean up was underway when the man shouting at the people on the
stage walked in. He spoke to the older gentleman putting the used
table linen in a trolley and then made his way over to the emptying
table where Victoria and Abby stood - well Victoria was standing,
Abby was shifting from leg to leg as Dawson strode over to them. The
poor girl was a mess.

His green eyes were
even more emerald close up. He smiled almost sheepishly as he said
his name and stuck out his hand to Abby first. She did not react. It
was Victoria who eventually ended the awkward silence created by her
friend’s nervousness and said, “Excuse her Mr. Ledger,
she seems to be having stage fright. I am Victoria, owner of Palette
and this is Abby my assistant. It’s certainly nice to meet
you.”

His chuckle was deep
and sincere as he shifted the handshake intended for Abby to
Victoria. He shook vigorously, but slowly as he inspected his new
caterer - he did it to most women. Uncomfortable at being examined so
closely, Victoria cleared her throat and attempted to bring the
conversation back into a professional line.

“I understand
that you enjoyed our food. Did I get the artistic interpretation you
were looking for Mr. Ledger?”

His grin was boyish
but his tone arrogant as he announced, “It was ok…
question is can you do it again?”

Victoria chuckled at
the challenge and said plainly, “It’s always better the
second time Mr. Ledger.”

His grin faded and
Victoria cussed herself internally. Why was she flirting with this
rich white man who obviously thought himself to be the overlord?

The answer wasn’t
immediately clear, but she listened to his response with great
intrigue. “Not in my books Ms. Jones… it’s the
third time that makes it a charm.” His tone was as serious as
his face as he delivered the last statement and bid Victoria and her
still star struck friend good evening. The man was indeed something
to ponder.

*****

Dawson was a man who
loved collecting rare items and gems and so far the only treasure to
elude him was a good woman. Certainly looks were important and
sometimes blood line and pedigree did factor in, but overall, even
the ones he slept with and rejected had something special and he was
seeing that in Victoria.

She had a take
charge attitude that stimulated the part of Dawson’s brain that
could not be shut off. He would have to hang around the staff table
more often. She was not tall and her hair wasn’t flowing the
way the other women he lusted after usually wore their hair. The low
cropped blond did appear to be a form of rebellion framing the
chocolate face of a determined woman. Her eyes were brown and deep.
There was more to this business owner than met the eye. Her friend
was stunning physically but there was something about Victoria that
drew him in. Rarity attracted him.

When she shook his
hand, he noticed the calluses as they rubbed against his palm. She
was no stranger to hard work it seemed. Victoria’s aura was one
of self assurance and conviction. Even though he complimented her,
she never gushed or glowed and this excited him. Much like her
assistant, many of the women he dated were star struck and Dawson was
secretly pleased that Victoria had spoken to him as just a man - not
a famous man but just like any other individual. She had pride, a
trait Dawson admired and respected and lastly she seemed like a
challenge and that was the most attractive thing of all.

Was Victoria Jones,
the creator of some of the best food he had ever tasted flirting with
him? It would seem she was and Dawson just couldn’t resist
bantering back. The short conversation was electric. Having never
dated a black woman, Dawson thought of the shock waves the news would
send though his elite and sometimes stuffy circle and was instantly
convinced that it would be something to enjoy. Time would tell if she
had the stamina to keep his pace.

*****

Over the course of
the following week Dawson made his presence felt in the dining room.
Victoria would only
be there for a few hours and he intended to make
an impression. Usually Victoria wore chef attire, but for some reason
today she was dressed differently. Gone was the bulky black jacket
and slacks she usually wore and in their place was a very feminine
dress. The leaf green garment fit her body like a glove - not that it
was tight or revealing, It just hugged the curves of her voluptuous
figure in the right way. There was a slit that started about three
inches above her knee and ended at the hem of the dress near her
ankles. Her feet were encased in flat leather slippers decorated with
natural wooden beads. The bohemian look was arousing a very European
Dawson and he was well aware of it.

She moved with
surety, giving orders to people she had met just days prior and they
complied as though the words had come from Dawson himself. Small
colored bracelets dangled at her wrists as she pointed out where she
wanted things to go and the statement copper earring dangling in her
ears were almost a work of art. Her bald blonde head snapped back and
forth as the clapped to get the attention of a slacker. She reminded
him of a dark skinned gypsy.

Last night he
decided that he would ask her out. He didn’t expect an easy
yes, but it was the thrill of pursuit and the magnetism of her
personality that drew him. Besides that, he never took no for an
answer and saw all rejection as a renewed opportunity to go for the
gold.

Her purse was under
her arm as she prepared to leave Abby in charge. It seems the Lady
Boss was on the way out. Quickening his step to catch her as she
disappeared through the service area doors, Dawson called out her
name. “Ms. Jones, may I have a word with you?” He asked
while running his fingers through his blonde hair - a sign of
nervousness he seldom displayed. Dawson could swear he detected
annoyance when she turned and forced a smile. This was new to him as
most times the ladies clamored to be at his side. She was going to be
more work than he thought. “I can see you are in a hurry but I
just wanted to ask if we could have a social drink with me later this
evening… if you are free that is.” She maintained her
plastic smile before saying, “I’m so sorry Mr. Ledger but
I have a pressing engagement that will run into this evening. I have
to decline, but thank you.” Walking all the while as she spoke,
Victoria placed her sunglasses on her nose and exited the door.
Dawson stared at the now closed steel door and smiled. Yes, he was
going to have to work harder to win her over, but he was not worried
- he was accustomed to winning.

*****

The phone call she
received this morning would leave anyone shaken and the wait for four
thirty to roll around took painstakingly long. Abby did most of the
food preparation today. All creativity had been sucked out of her and
yet she had to go.

It seems agitation
went well with Victoria’s personality and people definitely
understood she was in a no nonsense mood today. The waitresses at DMC
were accustomed to the shouting of their boss but the new abrasive
attitude Victoria displayed today definitely cemented that she was
not a woman to mess with.

Her makeup was on
today and despite the copper and burnt orange eye shadow she wore
over her brown eyes, she was in no light and airy mood. Abby
understood her without asking too many questions about the sour mood.

Abby wasn’t in
the best of spirits either simply because the man she had her eye on
was actively flirting with her best friend and boss. Jealousy began
to blossom in her heart and it was a hard weed to kill.

Watching him chase
after Victoria as she left for her private appointment, Abby wondered
why he hadn’t chosen her. Meanwhile, down the hall, Victoria
wondered how she would face the demon she thought she had exercised
from her life before a smooth voice broke her
train of thought. Dawson Ledger, all around arrogant billionaire and
general commander, was on her tail again and she was becoming tired.

Yes, he was handsome
and yes, he was charming but he was not her choice of hot beverage.
She preferred her coffee without vanilla, but he was insisting that
he'd add his flavor to her chocolate mix. Flirting was by no means a
commitment to a date, but somehow this man seemed to believe that it
was.
In
Victoria’s mind she figured he had finally been bitten by the
mosquito that gave white rich men the dreaded fever causing them to
go deliriously crazy over women of color.

His walk was overly
confident and he spoke in a manner that suggested he always got his
wish. But not today - maybe if he had asked her yesterday, but not
today. The look of astonishment on his face communicated just what
ran through her head and as she closed the steel door behind her, she
smiled for the first time since the phone call. It seemed that being
in control of herself in his presence was going to be a problem for
him. Well then, ‘Problem’ would have to be her middle
name.

*****

The monitors beeped
and tiny digital lights indicated that the man on the bed was alive.
The woman at his side appeared centuries older than the last time she
saw her and the old feelings of jealousy faded away - instead
Victoria felt pity and sorrow.

Her sallow face
turned to Victoria’s direction as she peered through the glass
separating her from the painful scene on the other side. Standing and
smiling at her, the woman summoned Victoria inside and tried to
straighten her appearance in the presence of company. Victoria
believed her wardrobe effort to make herself more cheerful now seemed
inappropriate. Green represented life and this was the setting for
death.

As Victoria came
inside, Cherry, Timothy’s wife came forward to share a hug.
Releasing her, Cherry whispered, “He asked to see you…
he wanted to apologize and I didn’t think it fair to deny him
the release of that burden… we all make mistakes and we all
deserve a chance. I will leave you two to talk. He has little
strength, but he knows you are here. I’ll be in the cafeteria.”

The humility of the
woman Victoria had stolen from humbled her - a husband wasn’t
something one could borrow and return undamaged. At home, there was
always a wife or husband feeling the pain. Cherry was that woman.