Song of Solomon (15 page)

Neil flushed the toilet and dragged his drained body to the sink, where he doused his face with water and dried it with sheets of paper towel that he pulled from the upright metal stand that stood atop the counter. In the mirror on the wall behind the basin, red, watery eyes looked back at him. After rinsing his bitter mouth with Scope, Neil exited the bathroom and mustered just enough energy to make his way back to the bed. The cordless phone was still in the place where he left it when he ended the call with CJ. Picking it up, he stared at it for a second, trying to steady his vision, and then pressed a key and listened to the almost musical sound of the speed dial in action. Neil prayed that he would get the voice mail, but God still wasn't granting him any favors.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Ms. Dasher.”

“Dr. Taylor, is that you?”

Neil rubbed his stomach. “Yeah, it's me. Listen, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be able to make it tonight.”

“You're kidding, right?” Her dazed tone just made him feel all the more awful.

“I'm sorry. I was getting dressed and just all of a sudden got very ill. I think it might be something that I ate at my mom's. I ate way more than I should have, and I feel bad—real bad. There's no way I can enjoy dinner feeling like this. I'm sorry,” he said for the third time.

“I understand, I suppose. I mean, if you don't feel well, you don't feel well. I just don't know what in God's name I'm going to do with all this food I cooked. And you should see the way I had everything set up. It was going to be a beautiful birthday surprise for you. I've got scented candles, sparkling cider, mood music, and everything.”

Neil couldn't believe Margaret was actually admitting how she planned to romance him. He hadn't given much thought to what Margaret had designed for tonight, but Neil never imagined candles, cider, music, and
everything
. For him, the evening was going to more so be the fulfillment of a childlike fantasy. He'd finally get to have a cozy dinner with the woman he'd secretly admired for years, but frankly, Neil knew his shallow attraction to Margaret was nothing on which to build a relationship.
Had she detected something all along? Did I indirectly lead her on?
He felt like the heel that CJ had all but accused him of being, and he searched for words that wouldn't hurt Margaret's feelings or their friendship.

“I . . . I, uh, Ms. Dasher, I—”

“And worst of all, what am I gonna tell my cousin?” Margaret cut in. “She's just gonna be crushed.”

Frown lines accumulated on Neil's face and deepened. “Your cousin?”

“Okay, I might as well tell you,” Margaret said through a defeated sigh. “My second cousin's stepson's daughter was staying with me this weekend while she attended some kind of big time book festival somewhere in downtown Atlanta. Her name is Danisha, and she's an airline stewardess and one of those avid readers who have met every big time author in the world. Smart as a whip, too. You like books . . . she likes books. Well, I thought the two of you would really hit it off, so I told Nisha that I would—”

“Wait a minute.” Neil stretched out his weakened body on the mattress. “So this was a birthday dinner for three?”

“No, it was gonna be for two.” The smile on Margaret's face could be heard through her voice. “I was gonna find a reason to sneak out and leave you young folks to yourselves. You're not mad at me, are you, Dr. Taylor? I know that in spite of your stubbornness, some good woman is going to net you one day. 'Cause in the end, we always win, you know. And I just thought it would be nice if somebody in my family got to be the lucky girl, that's all.”

Neil was too sick and too relieved to be upset by Margaret's failed ploy. “No, I'm not mad, Ms. Dasher. And even if I had the strength to be, I sure couldn't stay angry after a compliment like that. I'm sorry to disappoint you and your cousin, but I have no plans to go any farther than this bed tonight.”

“Well, that's what I get for trying to be sneaky, I guess,” she determined. “My mama always used to say that God didn't like ugly,” Margaret added with a chuckle. “You go on and get some rest, and I'll say a special prayer for you. I hope you feel well enough to come to church tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I hope so too.” Neil ended the call and turned over on his side, staring at the numbers on his nightstand clock as though they were dangling from a hypnotist's string. The last thing he remembered seeing before drifting off to sleep was the illuminated digits change to read 6:43.

“Ouch!” Shaylynn winced and grimaced from the self-inflicted pain that resulted from her pressing the sharp prongs of her fork into the flesh of the back of her hand.

If anyone had seen her, they would have understandably thought that she was a woman in need of psychotherapy. But Shaylynn was too angry at herself to even care about the opinions of others.

“Would you like more water, ma'am?”

Shaylynn looked up into the face of the tall, thin, pale-skinned waiter who stood next to her, dressed from head to toe in solid black. He had been her server from the moment she was seated and had been nothing but kind. Even so, Shaylynn found herself gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to stand up and slap the smile right off of his face. As far as she was concerned, every man deserved to be whacked today.

“No, thank you,” she mumbled, and then took a gulp from her current supply in a failed attempt to calm herself.

The only reason Shaylynn had even ordered a meal was to save face. Everyone would have guessed that she had been stood up had she sat awhile, and then left, never having placed an order. Now, because of her foolhearted last-minute decision to fight Saturday's late night traffic to get through the party district of upscale Buckhead, Shaylynn had been forced to pay nearly twenty-five dollars for a meal of Atlantic salmon, jasmine rice, and snow peas that she could have cooked at home for a fraction of the price. Using her fork, she picked at the flaky pink fish. The small portion that she'd nibbled was delicious, but just as with the beautiful jazz that was being sung by the man who stood beside the piano onstage, she was too enraged to enjoy it.

As her mind continued to replay all that had happened in the hours before arriving at Sambuca restaurant, Shaylynn cringed. How could she have been so stupid? She'd always prided herself on being a good decision maker, but this colossal farce had certainly proven otherwise.
I'm an idiot. A brainless, dim-witted idiot!
It's what she would have thought of any other woman who had done what she'd done, so Shaylynn determined that the description was perfect. More than two hours ago, driven by some unseen force that she couldn't even identify, Shaylynn had stopped in the middle of planning the improvements on Eloise's house, showered, gotten dressed, and driven a full sixty minutes from her house to the restaurant where Neil said he'd be.

I go there for my birthday dinner every year
, she clearly recalled hearing him say. “Liar!” The loud music and Shaylynn's clenched teeth worked together to make her one-word defamation incoherent to those closest around her.

And that wasn't even the worst of it. As up in arms as she was with Neil, she was even more livid with herself. Tears of anger and guilt welled in Shaylynn's eyes, and she blinked hard to force them back.
I left my son with virtual strangers!

At the time, it seemed like the best idea. After all, Valerie had given her an open invitation to leave him there, and Chase had begged her to allow him to go back. Plus it really was too late to have a six-year-old child out at night, realizing that it would probably be nearing midnight before they would return home. So stupidly, she'd taken Chase to Eloise's house with an overnight bag and placed his wellbeing in the hands of people she barely knew. Shaylynn had never felt unfit as a mother, but right now, she did. At the haunting thought of it, she trembled and closed her hand into such a tight fist that she could feel her French manicure acrylic nails digging into the flesh of her palm. Unable to take the mental lashing any longer, she picked up her purse, pulled three tens from her wallet, tossed them on the table, and stood.

She surveyed the room for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to exit without disturbing the view of those who were engaged in the live entertainment, and without having to navigate around the few couples who had taken advantage of the opportunity to dance the night away in each others' arms. It was going to be one or the other. There was no way to avoid both.

Choosing to take the clearer exit, Shaylynn grabbed her shawl and made a beeline for the door, walking as fast as she could so that whatever blockage she caused was only fleeting. In spite of her quick steps, Shaylynn could hear someone raising their voice to her. The music drowned out the words, but she was certain that they were directed toward her. Even after she'd cleared the front area, Shaylynn could still hear the patron's displeasure.

“Shay!”

It was only then that she realized it was her name that had been repeatedly called in the distance. Only one person called her that, and Shaylynn turned to look up into his face. She was at a loss for words, and for a split second, Neil seemed so too. He found his voice first.

“Hey. Where are you going? When did you get here?”

Shaylynn continued to stare at him without speaking. Where did he come from? How long had he been here? She had her own set of questions, but she voiced none of them. Following the tug of the strong arm that had at some point made its way around her waist, Shaylynn walked to the front corner of the restaurant, near the vacated hostess stand, where it was slightly quieter and there was no one within listening range.

“Where are you headed?” Neil asked her, looking concerned as he searched her face. “Home.” With her one-word reply, Shaylynn twisted her body and stepped away to free herself of his arm.

“Home?”

“Yes, home, Dr. Taylor. I've been here for an hour and a half already.”

The bewilderment on Neil's face increased and regret filled his eyes. “I'm sorry. I didn't know. Where were you sitting? I would have joined you had I known.”

“Are you telling me you've been here all that time?”

“Not
all
that time, but I arrived about forty-five minutes ago.” Neil glanced at his watch.

“Forty-five minutes ago? You said ten o'clock.”

“I know, and I apologize. In a million years, I didn't really expect you to come. You didn't say . . . Had I known . . .” His voice drifted momentarily. Everything he was prepared to say sounded like he was putting the blame for the mix-up on Shaylynn. Neil didn't want to give her that impression, so he started over. “I got sick earlier today. Really sick. It's a long story, but the whole repulsive episode left me so weak that I had to lie down. At some point I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was nearly ten. I was already late and didn't really feel like making the drive, but I was feeling kinda hungry and didn't want to break my birthday tradition, so I got dressed and headed here. I would have called you, but I didn't expect . . . I'm sorry. Please . . . please don't leave.”

It bothered Shaylynn that she could never stay mad at this man she hated so much and that he always found a way to soften her heart, regardless of what had happened to harden it. Shaylynn transferred her body weight from one leg to the other. She had already abandoned her table and her hardly-touched meal. She'd feel foolish going back now.

“Did you order?” Neil asked, reaching for her arm again.

Shaylynn allowed his touch and didn't immediately move away. “Have you had dinner?”

“I . . .” Shaylynn moved her arm so that her thought process wouldn't be hampered by the feel of his hand. “I did order, but I didn't really eat.”

Neil gestured toward the tables in the open floor. “Please stay and eat with me. Whatever you ordered before, I'll pay for it; plus, I have you covered for whatever you get from the menu now.”

“I'm not really hungry,” Shaylynn lied.

“Then don't eat,” Neil responded. “Just keep me company. Please.”

His persistent hand was reaching for her again, and Shaylynn saw when it changed directions and found its way back around her waist. Neil gave her a gentle nudge and she complied, following him to a table for two that was situated in the middle of the restaurant. Neil moved the second chair around so that it was right beside the one he'd been sitting in.

“You get a better view of the entertainment from here,” he explained.

Shaylynn carefully hovered over the chair that he held out for her, smoothing her red silk dress down in the back before sitting. When Neil took his position in the chair beside her, they were so close that Shaylynn could feel the fabric of his shirt on her arm.

He leaned over even closer. “You look especially beautiful tonight.”

The stroke of his warm breath against the side of her face was enough to make Shaylynn want to get up and run for the door. She clutched her purse in her lap and held on as tight as she could in hopes of easing the anxiety. Shaylynn opened her mouth to thank him for his praises, but if anything actually came out, she couldn't hear it over the music.

“Do you want to order something?” Neil offered.

Shaylynn's eyes fell to the New York strip, broccoli, and garlic mashed potatoes on his plate, and her stomach moaned. She'd fed on so much anger earlier that she didn't realize how hungry she still was until now. “Maybe just an appetizer.”

Neil flagged a waitress, and when asked, she knowledgably rattled off the list of offered appetizers, then waited patiently for Shaylynn to choose one.

“The calamari will be fine,” she said.

Even with all of the people that sat around them, when the waiter left, Shaylynn felt as though she and Neil were sitting alone in Sambuca. Without looking in his direction, she saw him watching her. The burn of his eyes put her heart in competition with the beat of the music that played from center stage.

“Where's Chase?”

Shaylynn turned and looked directly at Neil for the first time since they'd seated themselves. She would have thought that he'd known, but his expression was too sincere. “He's with your sister.”

The transitory look of surprise that covered his face faded into a raised right eyebrow and a half smile. “You left him with Val?”

Feeling the need to erase any misconceptions that Neil might have had, Shaylynn said, “You were right when, at your mom's house, you assumed that I allow him to stay up later on Saturdays than on school nights. But this would have been too late, even for the weekend. His bedtime is at ten on Saturdays, and I didn't want to keep him up.”

Neil broke into a full smile and looked down at his plate. It was as if he were amused by her determination to keep him in line. Stealing an extended glance, Shaylynn noticed the strong structure of his face. Neil had nice teeth and distinctly attractive brown eyes that almost seemed to light up when he smiled. Neil's low-cut hair was sprinkled with hints of gray that he appeared too young to have. Aside from a very thin mustache that barely outlined his upper lip, his face was cleanly shaven.

He turned to her and caught her looking. Embarrassed, Shaylynn turned her eyes back to the stage and immediately began praying that Neil would let the awkward moment slide.

“Why do you keep yourself so guarded?” he asked, ending the silent prayer that Shaylynn didn't even have the chance to finish.

She was given some time to prepare a practical answer when their waiter returned with a fresh glass of water and Shaylynn's calamari. When she bowed her head to say her grace, Shaylynn also beseeched God for the strength she would need to get through her evening with Neil.

“Okay,” Neil whispered in her ear. “I'll let the question slide if you go ahead and say amen.”

Shaylynn couldn't help but laugh as she opened her eyes and lifted her head. “Was it that obvious?”

Neil didn't laugh with her, but amusement outlined his eyes. “There is a lot of mystery to you, Shay, but your desire not to allow too many people into your personal space isn't one of them.”

Shay
. He was just determined to call her that, but since it was his birthday, she wouldn't fight him on it tonight. At least not directly.

“Dr. Taylor, I barely know you or anyone else in this city. I would think that my stance would be expected.”

“I would like to change that.”

“Change what?”

“The fact that you barely know me.”

Feeling flushed, Shaylynn looked toward the stage once more. The artist was taking a break from his singing, but the pianist continued to play soft music. She couldn't think of a response to Neil's statement, so, using her fork, Shaylynn picked up pieces of her fried squid and slipped them into her mouth.

“Let's see,” he started in a thoughtful, slow tempo. “You've already met my mom and my youngest sister, who is actually the knee-baby of the family.”

Knee-baby.
Shaylynn tried not to laugh. She knew what the terminology meant. She was aware that it was a brand given to the child right above the baby of the family, but she'd never actually heard people use it on a regular basis until she relocated to this end of the country. It must be a Southern thing. She stifled her smile behind a napkin, wiping her mouth while Neil continued speaking.

“I'm the eighth child and she's the ninth. I have four brothers—three older and one younger, and two other sisters—both older, that live in various states. You know where I worship; you know where I work; you know my age and my birthday, so there's not much more—”

“I don't know your age.” The thought in Shaylynn's mind spilled through her lips without the courtesy of giving her warning. Quickly, she added, “But that's not my business anyway.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Neither is any of the rest of that information, for that matter.”

“Chase didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“How old I am.”

Scrunching her face into a confounded frown, Shaylynn asked, “Why would he tell me something like that? How on earth would he know how old you are?”