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I have been trying to convince myself my father’s words don’t mean anything. Unfortunately, there’s no one remotely interested in that lie. In fact, the people that are close to me and now, those that aren’t even in this realm, know what I’m trying to deny. I’m in love.
I can’t believe it either. Every time I look in the mirror, or read my father’s prayer journal, or allow that still voice to speak, the same phrase comes up. “You’re in love with her.” For a while, I tried to pretend I didn’t know what her the voice was talking about. But, I can’t deny that either. I’m in love with Gabriella. I think the reason I’m fighting it is because it’s a foreign feeling for me.
I’m no saint. In spite of my upbringing, I’ve been…let’s just say, I found it very easy to embrace my French heritage. Yes, I’ve been with quite a few women. However, I never loved any of them, not even Chantal, and I was considering marrying her. Looking back on the debris of that relationship, I’m wondering why I was willing to settle.
She didn’t love me. It’s for sure I didn’t love her. Yet, I was doing everything I could think of to convince her to stay. I can’t believe how grateful I am for my grandfather’s meddling. If he hadn’t strongly suggested it was time for me to step in and take over Morgan Grant, I would have locked up my life with a woman who only saw me as a mediocre man with a fat wallet. I know she said she admired me. But the night we broke up, thanks to the very expensive wine, she let her true feelings shine. She didn’t want me without the powerful job.
If she only knew the truth about my grandfather’s offer.
Every morning, when I sit down and read my father’s journal, I’m plagued by his words, “I pray You send him a wife like his mother.” I know he wasn’t talking about Chantal. She was the complete opposite of my mother. However, Gabriella and my mother are a lot alike. I thought my mother’s lack of interest or non-interest in my father’s wealth was because she came from a similar background. To a degree it was. After reading my father’s words, I see he faced the same challenge as me. She didn’t care about the money. All she cared about was his character, his heart, and his spirit.
He wrote that he never knew or understood love until he opened himself up to her. Once he let his walls down and shared who he really was deep down, his feelings for her were more powerful than any sexual experience he had ever had. Now, I understand something he said to me when I brought Chantal home to meet them. He pulled me to the side and asked, “Does she make you see the man God destined you to be?” I blew him off. I wasn’t trying to hear a sermon. However, when I’m with Gabriella, I understand his question. She makes me see who I was destined to be.
I can’t believe I overslept. That’s a joke. I think I got twenty minutes of sleep, or something that resembled sleep. The Gabriella dreams were already bad. But now I have my father and the words of his journal being lived out in my subconscious. I need sleep. My body and mind are exhausted. I could always break things off with Gabriella, and hope for a good night’s sleep. But that’s a joke. Then I would be up all night kicking myself for letting the perfect woman go.
I walked into my office, sat down, opened my father’s journal and began reading.
I cannot believe I’ve lasted as long as I have. I made an agreement with Elizabeth which I never expected to have to live out this long. When she confessed how old-fashioned she is, I was startled. In this modern age, I was shocked to discover the woman I fell in love with is still a virgin. That was almost as shocking as her pronouncement that she was prepared to walk away from me, if I couldn’t respect her decision.
Funny, she used the word respect. I have nothing but respect for her. I see a future with her and I am willing to do something I never have…court a woman by her rules. I sense the payoff will far exceed any temporary false satisfaction. God, I’m trusting You with my heart and pray You guide me in pursuit of this amazing woman. Amen.
Wow. I got a chill. It was like having my father right there with me. To know he chose to make the same decision I did is mind blowing. I sipped my coffee and continued reading.
I did not think I was going to physically survive this dating paradigm Elizabeth presented me. The first couple of months were horrendous. I’m not sure which was worse, the illicit thoughts or my intense desire for her. The intense kisses, subtle glances and gentle touches help. However, it is the dreams I am having a problem with. Those curves and lips plague both my conscious and unconscious mind. Some of the dreams are so real that I have woken up thinking she was lying next to me, only to discover, I’m alone.
I have tried everything, but nothing works. I have resolved myself to the simple fact that she is in my blood and there’s only one way to purge her and get the rest I deserve. Come tomorrow, I will get the sleep I long for.
What the crap! How could he just leave it like that. I stood up and started pacing and stopped in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, and did something I hadn’t done in years.
“Father God, I need Your help.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
gabriella
* * *
Seattle is finally on track which means we are settling into a level four stress zone instead of a level twelve. I actually saw Phillippe and Tony smile. Today is the perfect day to brooch the subject of meeting my family.
I tapped on the door and Phillippe looked up at me. “May I come in?”
“Mon amour, of course.” Phillippe walked over, slipped his hands around my waist and kissed me. The intensity was way more than we agreed upon at work, but it was exactly what I needed. I gave into the kiss and wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling him closer to me. My body was starting to heat up and tingle. He kissed me harder, and it began to feel like the first time we kissed. His hands slid down my back and cupped my behind. I could barely breathe. Suddenly, I heard a deep moan pass from Phillippe to me. I was done. His lips moved across my cheek to my ear.
“I really needed to kiss you.”
“Me too.”
He closed the door, took my hand and led me over to the sofa in the corner of his office. We sat down and picked up where we left off. I couldn’t believe we were in his office carrying on like two horny teenagers. We never kissed like this at work. That was part of our agreement. Not even when we knew there was no one else in the building…we are usually the first ones in the office and often the last ones to leave. But it was only five thirty and there were plenty of people floating around the building.
Phillippe’s hands were everywhere. I was pinned against the corner of the sofa with his hard body pressed against mine. In my mind I knew if anyone walked in it would be difficult to explain. However, with all the tension and stress we had been experiencing, it felt good to let loose.
He slowly pulled back, and I looked at him through half opened eyes. Man, he’s sexy and smells so good. He has no idea how many times I considered laying down my beliefs and…man, I bet he would make my first time memorable. As Phillippe was pressed against me, I remembered my aunt Niki’s words. “Niecy, look at his hands and feet. If they’re large, chances are, so is everything else.” A chill ran through my body. I looked at Phillippe’s hand as he stroked the side of my face, and his thigh wasn’t the only large, firm body part pressing against my thigh. I swallowed hard.
“Someone could walk in.” I smiled.
He brushed a stray curl off my forehead. “And what would they see?”
“The president sexually harassing his assistant.”
