Sweet Silver Bells Page 6

  What the older woman did not know was that she did date, although it had been a while. Over the years she’d dated a few handsome and not-so-handsome men, those who were well-to-do and others whom she suspected lived from paycheck to paycheck. Their looks and the size of their bank accounts were never prerequisites for Crystal to agree to go out with them. It was always their confidence and manners—the latter taking precedence over the former. Even before she was old enough to date, her mother had lectured her constantly about home training.

  Even behind closed lids Crystal could still see the image of Joseph’s deeply tanned face, his dark eyes and tall, toned slim body. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. And the fact that he was wealthy didn’t begin to play into the equation.

  She didn’t want to think about Jasmine or Joseph. Rolling her head, she attempted to ease the tight muscles in her shoulders and upper back. It was time for a massage. Having access to an on-site health club was one of the reasons, along with the unisex salon, spa and boutique, was why she’d decided to buy property in the Fort Lauderdale gated community.

  Picking up the phone, she dialed the number to the hotel’s Serenity Silk Day Spa. Her call was answered after the second ring. “Good afternoon, Ms. Eaton. How may I help you?”

  “I’d like an appointment for a facial and a mood-makeover massage. Is it possible for me to combine the massage with hot stones?”

  “Of course, Ms. Eaton. What time would you like to come in?”

  Crystal glanced at her watch. “I can be down in less than half an hour.”

  “We’ll be waiting for you.”

  Ending the call, she went upstairs to her bedroom to change out of her suit and into a pair of sweatpants, a shirt and a pair of flip-flops. The sound of something hitting the windows caught her attention. It was raining. Even if she’d wanted to do some sightseeing, Crystal realized she would’ve had to change her plans.

  She slipped the two card keys, a credit card and cash onto a wristlet before leaving.

  Crystal walked across the marble floor of the lobby to the spa discreetly located at the end of a narrow hallway. She felt the calming atmosphere the instant she opened the door to the candlelit space, finding herself enveloped in the sounds of a waterfall, soothing New Age music flowing from hidden speakers and the tantalizing scent of essential oils.

  The white-coated receptionist escorted her to a dressing room, where she stripped down to her panties and put on a thick terry cloth bathrobe. She was given a cup of herbal tea and a questionnaire asking about her health status, including whether she was pregnant and/or had any implanted devices.

  Twenty minutes later Crystal knew she’d made the right decision visit the spa. Her face anchored in the cushioned doughnut on the massage table, she closed her eyes and moaned softly when hot stones lined the length of her spine. She had her mother to thank for her turning her onto the practice of using heated stones dating back five thousand years to the Ayurveda, an ancient Indian healing tradition.

  She found herself succumbing to the strong fingers of the masseuse easing the tightness in her shoulders and upper back, falling asleep and waking only when told to turn over.

  The hot stone massage was followed by the application of oils made up of lavender and patchouli, and then a shower and a facial that left her moisturized face glowing. She lingered long enough for a mani/pedi.

  After paying for the services, Crystal gave the masseuse and esthetician generous tips, feeling better than she had in weeks.

  As she left the spa and walked through the lobby, Crystal had to decide whether she wanted to cook dinner for herself, order room service or eat in the hotel’s restaurant. Her step faltered as she headed in the direction of the elevators to find Joseph in a passionate embrace with a petite woman with a café-au-lait complexion and hair the color of ripened wheat.

  Joseph lifted the woman off her feet at the same time his eyes met Crystal’s. She saw an expression of surprise freeze his features as he stared at her. She didn’t know why, but she felt like a voyeur even after she’d pulled her gaze away from the couple. Joseph had promised to cook for her the following day, and she wondered if the attractive blonde would join them.

  Entering the elevator, she inserted the card key into the PH slot. Two’s company and three is a crowd. The familiar adage came to mind as the car rose quickly to the top floor.

  Perhaps, she mused, Joseph should’ve waited to invite her to dinner before checking whether his girlfriend would show up. It was obvious her neighbor was faced with a dilemma, and because Crystal detested confrontation she was more than willing to accept his suggestion to cancel dinner. The ball, as the saying goes, was definitely in his court.

  * * *

  Joseph went completely still as he held his sister. When Bianca called from the concierge’s desk asking him to come down, he’d been surprised to hear from her. Then he saw Crystal stroll across the hotel lobby in sweats and flip-flops.

  Once he and Crystal returned to the hotel, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, or comparing her to Kiara. He found himself transfixed by her soft drawling voice, her low, sensual laughter, the genuine affection she appeared to have for Xavier and Selena and the sparkle in her eyes whenever she interacted with Lily. He was completely mesmerized by the confidence and poise that seemed to come so naturally to her. And after comparing her to Kiara, he realized he’d wasted four years of his life with a woman with whom he had so little in common.

  As a Cole, he would always put family first, but not with Kiara. Once she left Baltimore she refused to return or interact with her parents or anyone in her extended family. And whenever he mentioned meeting her family, she would fly into a rage, then not speak to him for days.

  “Joseph, please put me down.” Bianca’s command broke into his musings.

  “Sorry about that.” He gave her a long, penetrating stare. “How did you find me?” he asked.

  A slight frown appeared between Bianca Cole-Wilson’s brilliant gold-green catlike eyes. “Diego told me you were going to be here for a few months. I need to talk to you.”

  Joseph hadn’t seen his sister since Thanksgiving. Bianca, a premed senior at Duke University, hadn’t celebrated Christmas and New Year’s with the family because she’d spent the holiday in California with her sorority sisters with whom she shared off-campus housing.

  Holding on to her hand, he steered to the bank of elevators. “We’ll talk upstairs.”

  Bianca pulled back. “Can’t we talk down here?”

  He gave her a questioning look. “What’s the matter?”

  “Henri is waiting in the parking lot to drive me back to college.”

  “Why are you going back so early? Don’t you have another week before classes begin again?”

  “Yes, but I need to clean up my bedroom. I left clothes everywhere. It’s also my week to clean the kitchen and bathroom.”

  “Why aren’t you flying up?”

  “The jet is being serviced.”

  Joseph nodded. Henri had been hired as Diego’s driver and bodyguard. The mandate that anyone with Cole blood was prohibited from flying on a commercial carrier was still in effect more than forty years after Regina Cole’s kidnapping. Instead of arriving at the airport hours before departure time, or going through long lines at the security gate, Bianca and her sorority sisters were seated in the Gulfstream G650 business jet within minutes of arriving at the Raleigh-Durham International Airport for their nonstop flight to LAX.

  “Okay,” he said conceding. “We’ll talk in the lounge area. Would you like me to order something for you to eat or drink?” he asked when they were seated next to each other on a tan leather love seat.

  “No, thank you. We stopped to eat in Savannah, so I’m good.”

  Joseph wanted to tell his sister that aside from her deep suntan, sh
e didn’t look that good. Standing five-four and usually tipping the scales at one ten, she appeared much too thin. The natural blond hair she inherited from her Puerto Rican maternal grandmother made her a standout among the many dark-haired, dark-eyed Coles.

  “Talk to me, Bianca.”

  Lacing and unlacing her fingers together on her lap, Bianca revealed she had second thoughts about going to medical school. “It’s not that I don’t want to become a doctor, but I’m thinking of taking a year off after I graduate in May.”

  Joseph’s expression did not reveal his shock at this disclosure. For as long as he could remember, Bianca had always talked about going into medicine. “Are you pregnant?” he asked. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

  She gave him an incredulous look. “No!”

  He angled his head. “Then why the change of mind?”

  Bianca closed her eyes. “I think I’m burning out.” She’d accelerated in high school taking advance placement classes, graduating at fifteen, and would be a month shy of her twentieth birthday when enrolling in medical school. “My brain is fried, Joey,” she whispered under her breath. Bianca was the only one in the family who shortened his name.

  Draping an arm around her shoulders, Joseph eased her closer to him and pressed a kiss on her hair. “Should I assume you haven’t mentioned this to Mom and Dad?” She nodded. “Have you decided what you want to do while you’re taking the year off?”

  Bianca’s cheeks puffed up as she emitted an audible sigh. “I want to spend six months in Brazil with Regina and Aaron, and the next six in New Mexico with Emily and Chris.”

  “Why are you telling me this instead going directly to Dad?” Joseph asked. “After all, he’s still legally and financially responsible for you.”

  Bianca raised her chin, staring directly into the eyes of her favorite brother. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her other three brothers, but it was Joseph with whom she felt closest. Nathan, Harper and Anthony, who were twenty-six, thirty-two and thirty-five respectively, never seemed to find the time to play or listen to her.

  “I have saved some money, and I would’ve had more if I hadn’t gone to L.A., but what I need is your reassurance that you’ll loan me enough to hold me over for the next year because Daddy’s going to cut me off once I drop out of school.”

  Orthopedic surgeon José Cole-Wilson Sr. laid the ground rules for his children with regard to their education. He would underwrite the cost of their college, law or medical school tuition, provide them with a car and gas cards and deposit enough money into a checking account to take care of personal incidentals. And if she did take a year off, then she would be forced to move back home and rely on her parents for her day-to-day support.

  “You’re not dropping out, Bianca,” Joseph argued softly. “You’ll graduate in May.”

  “But I don’t plan to go to medical school for a year, and for Daddy that’s the same as dropping out.”

  “I think you’re being a little overdramatic, Bibi.”

  She closed her eyes. “You know I’m not.”

  “If you decide to take a year off, I doubt Dad will cut you off financially. But if that’s what you believe, then I want you to open a separate account when you get back to Durham. Call me with the account number and I’ll arrange to transfer money from my account into yours. How much do you think you’ll need?”

  She opened her eyes, smiling. “I’m not certain, because I’ll be staying with Regina and Emily.”

  “Have you told them of your plans?”

  Bianca nodded. “They’re both in agreement. What I have to do is tell Dad.”

  “When are you going to do that?”

  “I’m going home for spring break. I’ll tell him then.”

  “Do you want me to be there when you tell him?”

  Bianca kissed his stubble. “No. I don’t think I’m going to need backup, but thanks for offering.”

  Joseph rested his chin on her head. “Regardless of what happens I want you to remember that I’ll always be here for you.”

  She smiled, willing the tears pricking the backs of her eyelids not to fall. She came to Joseph rather than her other brothers because she knew he would not only hear her out but also take her side. Nathan, Anthony and Harper were too involved in their careers and whatever woman they were dating at the time.

  “I know that.” Bianca glanced at her watch. “I think I’ve kept Henri waiting long enough.”

  “I’ll walk you to the car.”

  Joseph put his arm around Bianca’s shoulders. He’d always felt very protective of his sister from the moment his parents brought her home from the hospital.

  They reached the parking lot and as if on cue Henri exited the limousine, opening a large black umbrella. A rare smile parted his lips with his approach as he extended his free hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson,” he greeted in slightly accented French.

  Joseph grasped the proffered hand in a firm handshake. “Good afternoon, Henri. How have you been?”

  He hadn’t seen the driver/bodyguard since before the Christmas holiday. The man with the shaven dark brown pate and strong features reminiscent of carved African masks appeared as taciturn as his boss. He and Diego were well suited for each other; both were men of few words—Henri even less than Diego. Only Diego knew his last name, and whenever he picked up the phone to call Henri he made himself available twenty-four/seven.

  “Bien, señor.”

  Joseph smiled as Henri lapsed fluidly into Spanish. There were occasions when he overheard the man speaking fluent French, Creole or Spanish. He shifted his attention to Bianca. “Call or text me when you arrive. And don’t forget about the account number.”

  Going on tiptoe, she kissed his chin. “I will.”

  Taking a step back, Joseph watched Henri hold the umbrella over Bianca’s head as they walked to the black Mercedes. He stood in the same spot watching the red taillights disappear before going back into the hotel. He had to come up with a menu for a dinner he would prepare for the most beguiling woman he’d ever met. The South Carolina Eatons had offered him their Southern hospitality, and in a little more than twenty-four hours a Palm Beach Cole would return the favor when he prepared dinner for Crystal.

  Chapter 5

  Crystal massaged scented cream cologne over her body, followed with dots of a matching perfume at all of her pulse points. She’d taken a bubble bath, luxuriating in the Jacuzzi until the candles lining the bathtub’s ledge flickered wildly, then sputtered out.

  The clock on the table in a corner of the expansive bathroom chimed the half hour. It was six-thirty—thirty minutes before she was scheduled to meet Joseph for dinner.

  He planned for a casual encounter, and after going through her closet she selected a pair of black stretch cropped slacks, matching long-sleeved cashmere sweater and black leather ballet flats.

  As promised, Algernon had called, giving her an update. He planned to return to Charleston late Monday evening; the contractor overseeing the renovations to the adjoining historic buildings would meet with her and the owner Tuesday at noon.

  Anxious to begin decorating the rooms for the inn and B and B, Crystal estimated completing the project hopefully within eight weeks.

  Her next commission would take her to New York City, where the owner of a one-hundred-fifty-seven-year-old Tribeca residence planned to turn the town house’s basement into a late-night jazz club; she looked forward to returning to the city she’d called home while attending Parsons New School for Design, where she’d earned an MFA in interior design.

  Pushing her arms into the sleeves of a thick terry cloth robe, Crystal belted it and sat at the vanity; picking up a sable brush, she opened a makeup palette with foundation, concealer and bronzer in shades matching her skin tone and another with eye shadows in muted shades ra
nging from sienna to smoky grays and black.

  Adjusting the lighting around the perimeter of the mirror, she lightly swept the tip of the brush over the foundation, gently blew off the excess and then dusted the velvety bristles over her forehead, cheeks and chin.

  Peering closely at her reflection, she surveyed her final handiwork, pleased with the results. The smoky gray shadow on her lids and the soft black mascara on her lashes made her eyes appear larger, dramatic. The coat of raspberry lip gloss matched the barely perceptible matching blush on her high cheekbones.

  Staring at her reflection, she recalled Joseph hugging the blonde. She’d expected him to contact her to cancel their date, but as the time drew closer she went through with the motions of readying herself as originally planned.

  Crystal experienced a range of emotions whenever she thought about Joseph. Despite his being born into wealth and privilege, there was nothing ostentatious about him, and if he did give off vibes of entitlement she credited it to his being a Cole. And she was also curious to find out more about his family. Even with their supposedly great wealth, they’d managed to remain discreet, inconspicuous, unlike some privileged scions stalked by the paparazzi.

  What truly puzzled her was his disclosure of being farmer. Why, she mused, would he give up practicing law to farm? And what was he growing? Crystal hoped she would have the answers she sought before the night ended.

  * * *

  The chiming of the doorbell echoed throughout Joseph’s apartment. Taking long strides, he crossed the living room to the entryway and opened the door, certain Crystal could hear his audible intake of breath when he stared at her upturned face. Her dramatic yet subtle makeup, her black attire, the modified spiky hair style and the scent of her perfume silently screamed sensuality. It took herculean strength for him to pull his gaze away from her mouth.

  “Am I too early?” she asked.

  Crystal forced herself not to gawk at Joseph. The absence of stubble made him appear boyish. He’d exchanged his jeans and boots for a pair of dark blue tailored slacks and black leather slip-ons. His light blue shirt with white contrasting cuffs and collar was open at the throat.