The Color Of Love: A BWWM Billionaire Alpha Male Romance (5 page)

There was no tube in
his throat, but the one in his nose looked uncomfortable and as
Victoria leaned in to call his name, Timothy’s eyes fluttered
open, widening as he recognized her. Smiling as tears rolled down her
cheek, she made a joke that she knew Timothy’s quirky nature
would appreciate, “I would ask you how you are doing but I can
figure out the answer to that.”

He tried to muster a
smile, but it seemed to hurt him internally and so he opted of a
slight grin and a nod. Motioning with the hand the nurses seemed to
be using for a pin cushion, Timothy motioned her closer. Cautiously
stepping forward, Victoria drew nearer to the ailing man she once
loved. He was paler than a ghost and even the blue veins under his
skin that once carried life giving blood to his body had faded in
color. His once strong voice was shaky and soft now, it was barely
audible.

“Victoria, I
want to ask your forgiveness. What I did was wrong and both you and
my wife suffered in the end.” He paused to catch his fading
breath before struggling to continue, “I want you to promise me
something, never let what I have done to you stop you from being the
woman you are. You deserved better and so did Cherry and now that I
am dying, I’ve caused her more agony.”

He began to cough
violently and pointed to the glass of water on the bedside table.
After sipping a tiny amount he flopped his head back on the pillow in
exhaustion. In a regretful tone he muttered, “the end for me is
near… I had no idea this hereditary disease had gotten me…
sickle cell disease is no joke but neither is life. I am sorry I hurt
you Victoria but I am happy we met. Taking risks like I did can have
a bittersweet ending, but I hope any decisions before you, are met
with vigor. You only live once Victoria… you only live once.”

He fell silent and
after a few silent minutes Victoria realized he had fallen back to
sleep. As the nurses entered the room to do whatever they did, she
slipped through the door to find Cherry standing there watching the
nurses monitor the machines supplying this man she once hated and
loved with life. Patting Cherry’s shoulder she said, “Call
me… when it happens… Thank you for allowing me into
your private life and I am sorry for any agony I caused.”
Without waiting for a response Victoria turned from the faces of pain
and death and left the hospital.

Today was the final
grand rehearsal for DMC Theater Live but she was in no mood to work.
Seeing Tim yesterday made her wonder if she was indeed focusing on
business too much. She thought about Abby and her mother and Dawson
traversed across her mind as well.

There was something
about him that bothered her - maybe it was his color, maybe it was
his wealth, maybe it was his status. In the end, Victoria concluded
it was all of them. Running her hand over her tiny blond afro, she
wondered what it would be like to be with him. She heard stories
about how old money treated black people and she didn’t want to
be a part of that. She honestly believed that Dawson would want to be
in command of her simply because he always got his way and this
disturbed her.

Suddenly energized
to meet the day, Victoria bounded from the bed and headed for the
shower. She was full of life and she was going to live it. Dawson
would have to keep his controlling demeanor to himself - she would
not go out with him. That was her final decision and there would be
no more flirting either. She would not dance with the devil.

*****

Lying at home in a
master suite that would dwarf most houses on a regular street, Dawson
contemplated his life. There was something missing. It had been a
while since he felt so drawn to a woman and this one in particular
was proving difficult to conquer. Somewhere in his mind, he wondered
if race had any part in her hesitation. Yes, it would be a challenge,
but this wasn’t the 60’s and people were more accepting
of this kind of relationship. As the thought came to his mind he
thought of his father, though he had passed, Dawson knew he would
disapprove.

After his father’s
passing, Dawson’s uncle Thomas took over the vacant paternal
role. Jaded and a bit rough around the edges Uncle Thomas wasn’t
always the most lovable character. He would be one to watch if this
thing bloomed into something beautiful and if Dawson had his way at
today’s final rehearsal, he would ensure the seed would be
planted.

*****

Abby was acting
funny. Work was being done, but a friend knew when her best friend’s
aura was off. There was definitely something wrong. Keeping her
answers short and professional, Abby made no small talk and her eyes
were downcast. Because she too had her bad day’s (much like
yesterday), Victoria left the matter alone. If it continued into the
night, she would gently ask her friend if she could help. Maybe she
just needed space.

Tonight there would
be a change in menu. Some specially invited guests were added to the
list and they wanted something a tad more substantial to eat. It was
time to get creative.

There was something
about pasta that moved Victoria, especially when bathed in some type
of creamy sauce. The idea of a layered pasta bowl had been with her
for a while and today Dawson and his rich friends would have some.
The center would be some kind of surprise. Her mouth watered thinking
about it, but that was just the main course, what of the entrée
and dessert?

Soup - there was a
soup recipe she had concocted years ago that included crab and
spinach and a whole lot of pimento peppers. That would work for an
entrée and the dessert would be a parfait. It seemed layers
would be the theme for the night and she laughed at how it compared
to her personality. Love, sadness, pleasure, pain and survival - all
layers of her to be peeled back and exposed. As she washed the
spinach for the beginning of her soup she remembered Timothy and his
words, “You only live once.”

*****

The DMC Theater Live
was bustling with activity and anyone observing would believe it was
opening night. There were photographers and journalist conducting
interviews and an artist had been hired to capture live drawings of
the action. The air was wired with excitement and activity. Abby was
still cold, but there was no time to coddle her. It was almost time
for lights, camera, action.

Dawson looked like
something out of an old novel with his brown blazer and fedora. He
was entirely too much drama. The actors and actress disappeared
behind the curtain and the play began. Sometime during the second
act, Dawson turned to search the small crowd for Victoria. She sat in
her customary position near the dining room she ran. Victoria caught
his smile and wink and returned them before she caught herself. Damn
this man.

Behind her back,
Abby saw the exchange and was reminded of her failure to capture the
rich man’s heart. Life was entirely too unfair and maybe she
would have to step out of character to balance the uneven scales.
Friendship would have to take the back burner for a while.

With just fifteen
minutes to go before the performance ended, the wait staff assembled
for instruction. Tonight there would be no buffet but rather a full
sit down dinner service.

The tables were
already laid and Victoria had inspected the cutlery and glassware
with a fine tooth comb. She hated dry water droplet stains. The
rousing round of applause indicated the beginning of Palette’s
own performance. A few minutes later, the actors stepped into the
room as well as the selected few from the journalist and
photographers.

Small ramekins
containing the festival soup as she called it, was placed in front of
the hungry patrons and Victoria held her breath for the reactions.
The lead actress closed her eyes and clutched her chest as a look of
pleasure crossed her face. It was a home run.

Because Dawson
believed himself to be one of the people, he too sat and ate with his
dedicated staff. At the head table were the ghost director, a man
Victoria didn’t recognize and Dawson. Their vote counted the
most. Observing every spoonful from the shadows as she chatted with
the head waitress, she waited to see if they would finish all of it.
The bowls were scraped clean.

The same thing
happened with the pasta bowl and the towering parfait. The guests
were stuffed by the end of the meal. Searching for Abby who was
chatting with some of the people, she called her over. She still
carried the bland look on her face, but came over all the same.
Victoria started to speak excitedly, “They enjoyed it! Give me
a high five!” Victoria’s hand wavered in mid air alone as
Abby simply nodded and moved back to her conversation. This was worse
than Victoria thought.

Turning to walk
away, she bumped into a broad chest. Apologizing, she stepped back
and looked up at the towering figure to see who she may have injured
only to be met with Dawson’s green eyes.

“Mr. Ledger, I
do apologize.” She uttered sincerely.

“You should be
sorry for making me fat… the meal was delicious to say the
least and I notice you didn’t eat anything.”

“You had the
time to watch me when your head was buried in your bowl?”

“I always
watch over anything I have interest in quite closely.”

“And why
exactly, are you interested in me?”

“Well, my dear
Ms. Jones, I like rare things and I can clearly see that you are one
of a kind. That suits my tastes just fine.”

“And suppose
you are not my flavor, Mr. Ledger?”

“Oh, I
guarantee you I am… and mixing your essence with mine would
certainly lead to something wonderful. From a business perspective, I
bet you will benefit from our mere association.”

Victoria laughed at
his suggestion. Not one photographer had asked her a question about
her business. Dawson’s venture was on showcase here not
Palette. Retorting in confidence, Dawson added, “I bet you make
the front page tomorrow”

Again, she laughed
at his comment. The man was crazy but she decided to play along.
Speaking sarcastically she said, “Yes Dawson, I am certain that
will happen.”

“What will you
do for me if it happens? A simple drink on Sunday evening is all I
ask. What do you say?”

As long as she was
in Florida only financial achievements, murder or crime had been on
the front page. Dawson didn’t have the power to change that or
so she believed. Sticking out her hand to confirm she had accepted
his challenge she said, “I hope your Sunday reservation is for
one because you will lose this bet.” Victoria teased.

Without a hint of
humor in his voice he added, “No Victoria, I never lose.”
Tipping his ridiculous hat he excused himself. Maybe Victoria had
been set up.

*****

It was after six am
when the phone started ringing but Victoria had been up since three
am prepping the fruit for tonight’s dessert. Only for
emergencies did she receive calls at this hour. Why else would anyone
call her at this time anyway?

The voice of Dawson
Ledger was crisp and bright for the early hour. This was the first
time he had called her personally and she jumped at the chance to
remind him of his losing bet.

“Calling early
to admit defeat I see Mr. Ledger.” She said in a chipper voice.

“Not at all
Madame, Have you seen the paper? If you haven’t, please feel
free to go get one and call me back at this number. Just remember I
like my women dressed in red. Remember that when we meet tomorrow.”

He hung up the phone
before she could respond. Victoria stared at the receiver and pressed
the off button. No sooner had she done that did it ring again.
Repeating her introduction as Abby walked through the door, she
listened to the voice on the other end. The woman was planning a baby
shower in the richer region of Florida and needed a quote for one
hundred guests and a signature cake. She had seen the morning paper
where James Southerland, the journalist had penned a front page piece
on her work.
Calling the food decadent, and indulgent, he
heaped on compliments for the fledgling company endorsed by Dawson
Ledger.

Taking the woman’s
details before promising to call her back, Victoria hung up and
looked at her best friend, “We’ve made the papers.”
Waving the black and white folded leaves before her Abby said, “I
know.”

Victoria never got
to finish the article, the phone rang again and again. Palette was in
demand. Turning off the ringer for a few minutes, Victoria cautiously
approached Abby who was in the process of violently hacking a melon.

“What’s
wrong Abby? Why won’t you talk to me? What have I done wrong?”

Her injured friend
looked back at Victoria with tears in her eyes before saying, “When
will it be my turn? When will good things happen for me? Even Dawson
chose you over me and you flirt with him. Do you know how that makes
me feel? I really liked him… It's just unfair.”

There were several
ways to deal with this situation and Victoria chose the high road.
Cupping her friend’s tears in her hands and wiping the moisture
with her thumb, Victoria started to speak.

“Abby I would
never leave you behind. You are my bedrock and whatever success comes
my way I will share with you. This is a finely oiled machine and
without you it cannot run. I need you to quieten these thoughts and
see the big picture. This victory is ours to share. Regarding Dawson,
I thought it was more of a star struck thing… I had no idea
that you seriously wanted to peruse him. I have a meeting with him
Sunday afternoon and I will inform him that I am not interested. You
have my blessing to follow your heart if it leads you to him.”

Victoria stopped her
speech and Abby’s tears dried up. She then looked into her
boss’s eyes and said, “That would be silly now Victoria.
I see the way he looks at you… He is smitten. When it’s
my turn, love will find me.”