The One That I Want

“Okay, mystery man,” she said in a husky voice that sounded like an old jazz singer’s. “We’ll play it your way. I like solving puzzles.”

“Nothing much to know.” And he meant it as a curtain to keep out her curiosity.

She shrugged, but he saw the interest intensify like so many did at mention of the Meadowses. She looked poised for any discovery. Her gaze recorded everything. If he stumbled and opened access to his life, she’d pounce without hesitation. While he had no intention of opening up about who he was because who really knew what had triggered her attention? On the other hand, he didn’t want his reluctance to end their conversation.

“Mild temperatures for the time of the year. More than chilly tonight, though.”

Laxmi signaled to the bartender for a refill. “Looks like we’ll stay in the safe zone and chat about the weather. Or maybe we can talk politics?”

Dresden made a face. “That’s depressing.”

She tapped her cheek with her finger, as if mulling over her next move. The nail polish perfectly matched the bloodred lip color. “Relationship status?”

His cough erupted and fizzled into a nervous chuckle from her direct blast into his personal life. His lack of a current girlfriend wasn’t a secret, but he was used to being in the driver’s seat when testing new terrain.

“It’s not a hard question.” Her voice turned an edge frosty. “Unless you’re about to lie.”

“Single.” He gulped a mouthful of beer.

“Good.”

His eyebrow hitched up with his shock that she was interested in him—and for more than passing time at a party.

Problem was, and he did see it as a problem, he was interested in her, too. He cleared his throat. His body was reacting without waiting for his mind to catch up. “Are you...single?”

She nodded.

“Not that I’m trying to pick you up.” He shook his head. “Commitment-phobe here. And work pretty much takes up my life.” Damn. He wanted to kiss those lips, smear that color right off.

The way his body short-circuited over her, he needed to set the record straight not only for her, but mainly for him.

But now his imagination wouldn’t stop its what-if scenarios. What if those long, manicured fingernails that tapped the bar’s counter could one day rake along the length of his back as they lay together?

He shifted his stance, wishing he could walk off the aroused tightness in his crotch. His eyes squeezed shut as he urged his libido to get it together. Maybe he needed a double shot of oxygen to clear away these thoughts.

“You’re a cop? Fireman? Navy SEAL?”

Dresden laughed and shook his head. “Professor. I teach history and write articles. Working on a book now.”

“Top secret?”

“My family tree in the context of Canada’s black history. I’m Canadian, by the way.”

“You keep getting more interesting. Sounds like your project is a lot of work, but also eye-opening for the curious-minded.”

He nodded, unable to withhold his appreciation that she showed interest in his work.

“And you haven’t managed to squeeze in a significant other?”

“I have. That’s how I know that it’s not happening anytime soon.” Despite the casual way she’d tossed out the question, he’d heard judgment.

“That’s better than saying ‘not in this lifetime.’”

Dresden didn’t respond. While she operated as being cool and confident, he could barely keep up with his unaffected demeanor under her pointed questions.

“You gotta give a woman a teensy bit of hope or they won’t stick around to talk to you when there’s a kick-butt party going on over her shoulder.” A smidgen of a smile curled her lips.

Dresden got the message, but this wasn’t the place to pick up anyone, even if she was rocking her tiny red minidress. And even if it fit like a tight glove around her curves at the top and at the bottom—He took another sip.

Reality check to self: hooking up at Grace Meadows’s party couldn’t happen. Shouldn’t happen.

“Let me guess.” She leaned toward him. He tried not to be caught in her weblike aura, but he leaned toward her. Couldn’t help it. That damned perfume rendered him weak. “You look out at these strangers in this backdrop with doubt, maybe condemnation. I can see it on your face. You’re dismissive of them for whatever reasons. That’s sad. Because you’re looking at me with a lot of suspicion mixed with wariness, as if I were about to suggest a one-night stand.”

Dresden choked on his drink. Her boldness, her accuracy about his attraction to her, rattled his nerves. He shook his head. He’d never own up to lusting after her.

“And on that note, it’s been an interesting few minutes with you, Dresden. See you around...if it’s meant to be.” Laxmi offered her hand once more.

This time he was prepared for the intense pleasure of holding it.

Or so he’d thought. He hadn’t expected the slight squeeze of her hand before she released his with the bonus of a slow wink.

Like a magician, she flipped a business card out of her pocketbook and extended it to him from between her fingers.

“Aren’t you afraid that I might use your card as a bookmark?” His voice croaked. Must not give in.

“Nah.” Once he took the card, she continued. “I’ll stay confident that you’ll call.”

Every part of him cheered in agreement. However, to pretend otherwise, to maintain his plan to be unavailable, thanks to her base in New York and his in Toronto, he simply slipped the card into his inside jacket pocket and picked up his drink. “Have a good night.”

She was gone before he’d finished talking. Her exit had as much flair as her style. The formfitting dress left admirers—and him—gawking as she cut a path with a supermodel strut to the front of the room.

Meeting her was worth the entire night’s experience. She had the unique appeal to wake him up and make him interested in something other than his current issues. Though she’d left, his system still savored the aftereffect of her energy.

Once Laxmi disappeared from his view, Dresden sighed. The fun part of the night was over. Time to grit his teeth, suck it up and formally be part of Grace Meadows’s birthday bash.

Chapter 2

The music faded into the rumbling din of the guests. The clink of glass and buzz of conversation accompanied Dresden’s solitary walk to the head table.

Lights suddenly dimmed over the room, wrapping everyone in soft white lights that glittered off the chandeliers. The waitstaff efficiently slipped to the perimeter of the room with dirty dishes in tow. Stage lights now brightened a wide path for the mistress of ceremonies, who’d stepped forward to take charge. Her booming voice commandeered everyone’s attention as she announced that the planned program for the birthday celebration would begin.

An eager attendant, scrubbed and polished, quickly inserted himself into Dresden’s space, blocking his progress to the Meadowses. “Are you part of the VIPs?” He pointed to his wrist and tapped his finger on the spot.

Dresden stared at him, clueless as to the meaning of the signal.

“VIPs have a purple bracelet. Do you have your invitation?”

Dresden nodded and showed it.

The eager and now annoyed attendant cleared his throat as he closely read the paper. “Okay. Here’s your bracelet.”

Dresden took the simple band and slipped it on. He squashed the stubborn urge to refuse this anointed VIP status and risk the attendant’s disdain. His DNA connection to the Meadowses changed nothing. With his personal life and career pursuit solidly middle of the road, he had no experience with the airs and graces that surrounded this family.

While the emcee continued on with her introductions, he turned himself over to his escort and followed along to the head table.

“Mrs. Meadows, your guest Dresden Haynes is here.” The man actually bowed. Not to a full ninety-degree angle, but enough to give deference and to earn a regal nod.

Dresden’s back stiffened. She couldn’t expect him to do the same? But he wasn’t sure as Grace Meadows slid her keen gaze onto him. The entire table’s attention followed suit, including Miss Sexy Red Dress.

Laxmi offered him an imperceptible nod. Casually posed. Neutral smile. Guess she wasn’t disclosing that they’d met.

In return, he responded with a quick, dismissive nod before he turned his attention back to Grace.

“How good of you to join us,” Grace said with clear imperious elocution. “I’m so thrilled that you came to my party. Now, take your seat. We are about to begin.”

The woman didn’t look anywhere close to eighty years old. A vibrancy burst from her like an extra ring added to her aura. Even without all the family members and the birthday decorations that framed her, she would still stand out in a crowd.

She shooed him away with a flick of her hand. “You are seated next to Fiona. Go on, take a seat.”

His sister was already at his side with arms outstretched. Before he could take it all in, before he could take a step back, she pulled him into a fiercely tight hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so glad.” Her hug grew tighter as she repeated herself.

“Good to see you, too,” Dresden offered after his release from her arms. The tension interwoven through his neck muscles slackened and disappeared under her reassuring smile. During their many conversations, he’d accepted that Fiona shouldn’t shoulder any blame for his lost-and-found story line. Nor should she be burdened with his pendulum swings over accepting the role and responsibilities as a Meadow or retreating to his obscurity from the family.

“Let’s get the introductions over with because I’m sure your brain is on overload right now,” Fiona said after he took his seat.

Her prophetic statement held true after he was reintroduced to Fiona’s boyfriend, Leo; their cousins Dana and Belinda and their significant others, Kent and Jesse; and more extended family. In that last cluster of family members, he had to acknowledge Verona—Fiona’s mother—the same woman who’d given him away and held on to her secret until a few months ago, when Grace and Fiona had found out about his existence.

He twisted the lock tighter on his emotions to halt any visible signs of how he felt. The order he craved in his life couldn’t afford pendulum swings into drama. Neither did he want to dwell in hurt, anger or even empathy for Verona.

Feelings for this woman whom he couldn’t think of as his mother didn’t linger in one place. At times, he wondered about her life and the difficulty of giving him up. During those moments, he could stir up a measure of compassion without feeling any sense of obligation to talk to her. Other times, when he celebrated with his parents over the smallest joy, he could erase Verona from his conscious thoughts.

Overall, the many names he’d just learned, along with each person’s identifying details, merged in a chaotic swirl of too much information. The pressure to impress, his emotions, his grudging willingness to be there, all overwhelmed him. If tested, he’d be unable to recall anything. Hopefully he wouldn’t have any long conversations that would tax his memory.

But he sensed that it was an empty fantasy because their gazes stuck to him like prickly burrs. It didn’t help that a few heads tilted toward each other for whispered chitchat. How much did they know about him?

“And the last one in the lineup is my friend Laxmi Holder,” Fiona revealed with an appreciative pat on her friend’s shoulder.

“Just to be clear, it’s best friend.” Laxmi smirked at him.

Good grief, she belongs to the other side. Dresden nodded in mock salute. “Not to worry. I won’t usurp your place.”

“Hope not. She’s got enough friends.” Laxmi pointed at Fiona with her thumb. “I, on the other hand, may have an opening for a friend with benefits.” She widened her smile.

Dresden felt like her partner in crime, with their shared secret about not being complete strangers. He swallowed the automatic response to match her smile with his. Hard to be around this intriguing woman and not react to her or anything she said. Besides, he was certain Fiona had picked up that something had occurred between the two. Although she was baffled now, no doubt that she would corner Laxmi later for the lowdown.

To throw off Fiona and get himself onto emotionally neutral land, Dresden allowed himself to drift along with the meandering conversations closest to him.

The cousins soon overshadowed his preoccupation with Laxmi. Jointly they engaged him in animated conversations exchanging information about their childhood misadventures. Listening to the details from their childhood, he felt like a spectator. He couldn’t help thinking about what it would have been like to be part of the family dynamics. But their exuberance and effort to draw him in with humor and great storytelling abilities helped dissipate some of the awkwardness of the situation.

However, he took the more comfortable route to talk about his humorous interactions with his students and his more interesting research trips. Childhood stories, living in exotic places with his family, and anything else that he deemed too personal, remained unspoken.

Sliding his attention past the cousins, he saw Verona, far enough away but still in his direct line of sight. He studied the woman who’d given birth to him but couldn’t look at him. She didn’t smile much. Didn’t talk much, either. She wasn’t a sad figure. More like a contemplative spectator at the table. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected or what he’d wanted—a bereaved woman in perpetual torment would be nice.

A low-level headache hummed across his brow. Maybe he should have stayed at the bar. He needed a little help to get through the night. However, his escape plan hit a snag.

The program started with the official introduction of Grace. The matriarch walked forward to take her place on the stage. Guests cheered her on with a standing ovation. Dresden clapped along with everyone as each major accomplishment was read about her humble beginnings in the media industry to the steep upward trajectory to success and power.

He chanced a glance at Laxmi before he resumed his seat. She was chatting with one of the cousins. Not once did she look in his direction. He did but also didn’t want her attention. Still, why on earth did he feel a twinge of disappointment because she ignored him?

Grace stepped up to the microphone, first acknowledging the ovation and grand introduction. Her speech turned somber and reflective.

Dresden listened to her creative version of his inclusion in the family. More details than he’d preferred, about Grace hiring Leo to find her grandson so that she could celebrate this milestone birthday with her entire family. Her pride extended to her daughter Verona and the reunion of her children, whose successful lives were testimony to the Meadowses’ traits of grit and determination.

Bitterness simmered in his chest like embers. Charlotte and Patrick deserved all the credit. And he’d never betray their love by sharing any part of himself with Verona.

“Would all my grandchildren join me onstage?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d do this.” Fiona touched his fisted hand on the table as she rose to join her grandmother. The cousins also stood, looking expectantly over at him.

His mind raced along with the thump of his heartbeat. His body, on the other hand, felt like it was in a high-drama family saga moving in slow motion. He had to stand. Had to walk to the stage. Had to take his place next to people he didn’t know or belong with, as part of the united front for the public and for Grace.

Cameras didn’t stop flashing. Were they all so fascinating, to need every facet of their life on record? He tried to shield his eyes but couldn’t manage that and see to walk. Feeling more than a tad self-conscious, he retreated between a gap in the lineup. The rest of the family all dealt with it like pros.

Dresden concentrated hard on not barfing onstage. Alongside him, he witnessed Fiona, like her cousins, charm the audience with her testimonial of love and devotion for her grandmother. Their sincerity stirred up warm, cozy feelings about family and legacy. While they lauded Grace’s impact to their lives, he related the same feelings to his memories of his adoptive parents. Nothing would change where his loyalty resided. Except, a deep-seated fear formed that he could fall under the spell of the Meadowses.

Meanwhile, the guests continued cheering through Fiona’s speech. They were the fans for the home team, fully engaged at a pep rally. How would he follow her blaze of glory with his version as the new Meadows? What emotional bloodletting would he have to perform for the guests’ satisfaction?

The anxiety had him wishing that he was back at the bar admiring a particularly sexy woman in her red-hot minidress. Timing wasn’t on his side, but he’d make do with the temporary opportunity.

Damn, it was his turn. Fiona offered a final wave before she left the podium to rejoin the line of grandchildren. His nerves popped and multiplied in the pit of his belly. Too many thoughts to process and no time for second-guessing. Dresden rubbed his palms along his pant legs and blew out a shaky breath.

The short walk to the podium felt a mile long. But nothing more delayed his face time with the guests. He tried to smile. Tried to make his face relax. Tried to hold it together.

He dug deep and imagined standing in front of a freshman class. This was nothing more than teaching the early history of Canada. If he was lucky, he’d have to deal with only a few glazed stares.

“Tonight I’m here with the Meadowses to celebrate Grace’s birthday. Thank you for the invitation.” He inclined his head toward the head table. “Right now...” He paused, trying to direct his words so that only positivity flowed. “This has been...quite a year.” A few chuckles joined in with his weak laughter. He scratched his forehead, although there was no itch, just an unease that wouldn’t stay buried. “A lot to take in. And we will move onward and upward. So, um...enjoy the meal.”

Then he took a step back from the podium. With a loud exhalation, he looked over at Fiona. Sorry. He mouthed the word before looking back out over the crowd. A soft buzz of chatter gradually filled in the silence after he finished.

He sought one person’s judgment—Laxmi’s. He was sure Grace regretted his stumbling debut to her friends. That was why he’d rather deal with Laxmi and her series of pointed questions about his behavior than Fiona’s or Grace’s disappointment.

Without pausing to analyze the consequences of the next steps, Dresden walked briskly off the stage. His strides lengthened and picked up momentum toward the exit. Escape. Freedom. All he wanted right now was cool air filling his lungs.

He reached the hotel entrance out of breath, but grateful, and pushed open the door. The temperature had dropped significantly, adding a frigid edge to the already frosty condition. His face tightened against the wind but he needed the briskness to take his mind off his actions.

“Sir, do you need a taxi?” An attendant stepped up, ready to hail a cab with his whistle.

“I guess I should get one.” Dresden looked around for the limo. He’d gotten out of the vehicle without ensuring that he had a ride after the party. And there was no sign of the car or driver.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take the runaway to his hotel.”

The attendant nodded and left him at the curb.

Dresden slowly turned in the direction of Laxmi’s voice. She greeted him with a cocky smirk and headed over to the valet service booth. A red coat shielded her body against the cold. Like the red dress, the perfectly matched coat complemented her skin. And, oh, man, that strut she had was always a pleasure to watch.

First, he didn’t know if he wanted to be rescued. Second, should she be his knight in a hot minidress? But he didn’t want to ponder the dilemmas for any real answer.

A spectacular red Ferrari Sergio roared into view and pulled up beside them. Dresden watched Laxmi tip the valet before sliding behind the steering wheel.

Did she plan for every part of her life to be in sync? The sports car matched its owner—brash and eye-catching with compelling power moves. As she fluffed out her hair and let it fall past her shoulders in a thick, curly black curtain, he knew she had the “it” factor for an expensive car ad.

“Oh, come on. I’m harmless.” The limited-edition roadster’s engine revved like a signal for him to get in and enjoy the ride.

“I’m not supposed to take rides from strangers.” He tried not to fall under her spell. All night he had tried, but as his hand closed on the door handle, he knew he couldn’t go on unless he surrendered to this woman.

An exciting shiver ran along his spine. She pressed a red lipstick to her bottom lip and smoothed on a fresh coat. He followed its path over the curves and valley of her lips. To survive the moment, he looked around for a distraction.

Seeing the valet looking longingly at the car instead of drooling over Laxmi worked for Dresden. Not that he could claim to be jealous of someone he didn’t know.

“Didn’t envision this gem as my getaway car.” He got into the tight space and pushed back his seat to match hers.

“And I never imagined that I’d be racing off with such a worthy prize.”

“Prize? Guess that’s what I am...to them.” He looked toward the entrance. The way he’d left, the things he’d said or hadn’t said—all of it ran on a continuous loop. There was no coming back from this. Should he never have said yes to Fiona’s invite? Now he’d made a mess of things and embarrassed Grace on her birthday. He swore under his breath.

“Want to head back in?”

“No. Actually, I did what I came to do. No more. No less.” He shrugged off the denial that popped up.

“At least sleep on it. You might think differently in the morning.”

“Are you the getaway driver or my therapist?” So what if he sounded ungrateful?

* * *

Laxmi didn’t consider herself the most observant person. Her client, Tonea, tended to accuse her of being clueless most of the time. Tonight was one of the occasions when clarity arrived and stuck around long enough for her to pay attention to her new drinking buddy—Dresden, the missing Meadows.

She sensed that he had been equally nervous about attending the party, of course, for different reasons. His reluctance to engage was understandable, but also a welcome distraction. Plus, he was so darn fine that she couldn’t resist flirting.

But when he went onstage, she saw the panic. She recognized the signs of feeling out of control, looking out at the crowd for approval and hoping to impress. His panic got the better of him and he bolted.

As soon as he left the stage, Laxmi shot out of her seat and followed. Maybe she was looking for an excuse to also leave, but there was a part of her that was genuinely interested in Dresden.

Even if he met her concern with full-out suspicion.

* * *

“I’m Fiona’s friend. So, she matters and, by default, you matter.”

“Then let me relieve you of that obligation.” He reached for the door handle.

But his head hit the headrest as Laxmi pushed the gas pedal. Tires squealed. Pedestrians skipped out of the way, hopping onto the curb. Their departure from the front of the hotel turned into a blurred flash of buildings and lights.

Not until Laxmi pulled up at a red light did Dresden test the seat belt. He kept one hand on the dashboard for added measure as she took off again. A sharp right turn tested his grip on every surface. A side glance to check on Laxmi only proved that the ride to his hotel would feel like a jump through a time warp.

“Where to?” she asked in between a three-lane change.

“I chose to stay at the Barkley Towers.”

“Nice digs. Everyone is at the Winthorpe.”

“I know,” he said. Fiona had offered to make the reservation at the same hotel, but he’d known he’d need his space. Besides, he’d passed on the Meadowses picking up the tab for his hotel stay.