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No, they had gotten back together since the fire.
I quietly mutter to myself. “The rape sent Momma running to Uncle Red for comfort. The fire at the laboratory ends the affair—shit—and I helped crush her heart. But for how long? How long was Momma playing Betty Crocker.” I’m part of the reason my mother became the woman that I actually remember her being—always smiling—always happy. Cooking. Baking. She tried to resurrect a crumbling marriage around her daughter.Damn, this can’t be right.
She and Dad were moving right before her murder. But my gut tells me Charles was in mourning there at his townhome/laboratory since the tragedy.
“Time to take a break,” I murmur to myself. I take heed of Victor’s words. Yes, I need to call Aliyah.
Although I talk myself into calling my friend, I continue to wrestle with my mind. Gina Whitson became Martha Stewart. She lived her life through me. She cried my tears when I came home from college because of heartbreak.
God, I will myself not to cry at how Momma sacrificed her happiness. I pick up the iPad and FaceTime Aliyah.
“Hey, girl, you’re looking good,” I tell her, looking at Aliyah in real time through my iPad screen.
“Yes, I am! There's nothing like being a boss.” Aliyah smiles, running her hand through her silky, flat-ironed hair. “Lux . . . Baby girl, what’s wrong?”
I breathe out. “I just lost my dad.”
“You what?” she gasps.
“Oh, sorry, too dramatic. I was also overthinking a second ago. I just never want to see that man again. It feels like I lost him.” Since I’ve purged and dissected everything with Alba already, I give Aliyah the summarized 20/20 segment version of the story.
“Oh no, I don't think Jonah murdered . . . Wow, as gorgeous as your mom was, I guess.” Aliyah’s at a loss for words. “Give it time, then talk to your dad.”
I change the subject. “Tell me about your upgraded persona. Looking good, girl.”
“Lux, you’re looking good too, besides the poked-out bottom lip. But if you want to know, Valentine’s was always the best around here.”
“Oh, did Tommy finally buy you flowers or something?”
“Girl, no. I've been too busy stepping into my destiny,” she assures. “I've had to hire a few people, change our supplier for flowers, and—”
“Our?”
A single eyebrow lifts. “Urban Gardens, hello? Lux, it looks like you need some sleep.”
“What about it?” I gawk.
“Luxury, if you don't stop playing.” She chuckles. “I met with Tudor’s business consultant a few days after you ran off, leaving your girl all to her own devices. Matter-of-fact, I've just sent over the first-quarter reports.”
“Aliyah,” I scoff. “I was selling Urban Gardens remember?”
“Hell, yes, Miss Scrooge. You really know how to cut into a girl’s Christmas shopping. Next thing I know, I get a call from a lady with a proper accent. Her name was, uh, Monica. She said I would run the business for you while you’re away. She scheduled to have me meet an adviser the next day.”
My bottom lip drops. After trying to hold in the beam that forced its way across my face, I listen to Aliyah as she continues to update me on the store.
After hanging up, I stroll across the room and peek into the bathroom. My legs freeze as I take in Victor’s broad shoulders, trim waist, and glorious ass. He’s leaning against the marble counter, naked. A jagged, muscular back ramps up the heat in my body, and he has an appearance about him as if he has been patiently waiting.
“Oh, you want a reward, huh?” I cock an eyebrow. “You are a very powerful, thorough man. I can’t thank you enough for taking over my floral shop.”
“Luxury, your choices are infinite, except for leaving me.” Victor seals that commandment with a kiss on my forehead. The heat from his lips sends tiny goose pimples igniting across my flesh. My eyes flutter closed. In this moment, I don’t need to hear those three-letter words.
I feel them.
Flowing over me like a summer current.
Brimming through my soul.
There’s no lust in his eyes.
