Surrender My Heart

Natalie was certain Deanna was referring at least in part to Marvin, the man Natalie had selfishly seduced over ten years ago. She still wasn’t sure why she had hurt her sister like that, except that she had been at a low point in her life, needing to feel alive and desirable.

“Yet here I am,” Natalie said, pushing the memory from her mind. “Divorced by a husband who only cared to get rid of me as quickly as he could. Like our mother,” Natalie added without thinking.

Deanna eased back so she could look at her. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe Callie is right. Maybe our mother left us because she didn’t want us.”

“Okay, now I know that’s grief talking,” Deanna said. “Because out of all of us, you were the one who never stopped believing there was a reason for our mother’s disappearance. And now we know there was. So it’s not the time to lose hope.”

“I know,” Natalie said, sniffling. “It’s just…I thought Vance respected me more than this.”

“Vance is clearly an idiot,” Deanna said. “And a coward. I know it hurts, Nat, but trust me when I say there’s no point crying over a man who didn’t value you. Soon enough, you’ll meet the man you’re meant to be with.”

Now Natalie gave her sister a skeptical look. “What makes you say that?”

“Your horoscope this morning,” Deanna answered, her voice filled with certainty. “It said a new love was on the horizon for Scorpios.”

Natalie rolled her eyes, but at least she smiled.

“Don’t give me that look, sis. You mark my words. You’re going to find someone else. It’s written in the stars.”

Chapter 2

By the next morning, Natalie was in better spirits—despite the front-page news that had confronted her. Wisely, Deanna had taken her downtown to shop at quaint boutique shops in order to take her mind off what had happened with Vance. Retail therapy, her sister had called it, and it was working.

They were currently in a hat shop owned by a local designer, perusing the large selection of funky hats.

“Oh, what about this one?” Natalie asked, taking a wide-brimmed purple hat off of the rack and placing it on her head. “This, with large sunglasses—it’ll help me be incognito.”

“It’ll also cause someone to lose an eye. It’s a cute hat, but whoa, could it be any wider?”

“It’s exactly what I need,” Natalie said. “After that front-page announcement about Vance and Olivia this morning…”

“Eh,” Deanna said, throwing up a hand. “We’re not going to talk about that, remember?”

“But the front page of the paper here in Cleveland? That’s what I don’t understand. Why does anyone here care about my marriage to Vance?”

“Because we used to live here,” Deanna supplied. “And you married one of the most successful players in the NBA. But we’re not talking about it, remember?”

Not talking about it was a lot easier said than done. Because Natalie could avoid the truth all she wanted, it was still there. The magnitude of Vance’s betrayal had been published for all the world to read.

But at least this morning, instead of feeling sad as she had the day before, she was feeling anger. Vance had rushed their divorce only to announce the very next day that he and his mistress were engaged.

“All I can say,” Natalie went on, “is that they deserve each other. If Olivia is dumb enough to believe that he’ll ever be faithful to her…”

Deanna plugged her ears with her fingers. “Not listening to any talk about Vance.”

“Okay, I get it. No more Vance talk.” Natalie put the purple hat down, then went to something smaller. A cute, casual hat made of straw. “I kind of like this one. It’s the perfect summer hat.”

“Oh, that is cute,” Deanna agreed.

“Here, try it on.” Natalie put the hat on her sister’s head.

Deanna checked out her reflection in a nearby mirror, and nodded. “Definitely cute.”

Natalie took the hat from her sister’s head and put it on her own. Looking into the mirror, she nodded. “Yep, this is a keeper.”

“If you ask me, she’s probably pregnant,” Deanna said as she turned and began walking toward another display of hats. “That’s my two cents…but I’m not talking about it.”

Natalie stopped dead in her tracks. As the reality of what Deanna had said hit her, she felt her stomach roil.

“I’m sorry,” Deanna went on, catching Natalie’s expression. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m probably wrong…”

“Actually, you’re probably right.” Natalie walked past her sister to the window, where something had caught her eye. Some sort of commotion. She saw a woman with a microphone and was instantly worried.

But when she got to the window, she saw that the woman was approaching a tall, gorgeous man who had just stepped out of a black 7 Series BMW with dark, tinted windows.

“What is it?” Deanna asked, coming to stand beside Natalie and also looking out the window.

“I saw a reporter outside. For a minute, I thought…” Her voice trailed off, the idea suddenly seeming stupid to her. “As if I’m that important.”

“Ooh, I see you ladies are checking out Michael Jones,” came a woman’s dreamy voice.

Natalie and Deanna turned to see Edna, the hat designer and shop owner, standing next to them. You would think that the fifty-something redhead had been hit by Cupid’s arrow, that’s how enamored she looked.

And for a long moment, Natalie allowed herself to enjoy the view of one of the finest men she had seen in ages. Tall, at least six foot three, with a cool confidence that oozed sex appeal. Black slacks covered a seriously fit behind, and hugged thighs that were muscular and strong. His well-sculpted biceps were revealed beneath the hem of his expensive-looking short-sleeved shirt. Having been married to Vance Cooper, Natalie recognized high-priced clothing even without seeing a label. And from the man’s fine Italian shoes to his dark sunglasses, everything on Michael’s body was undoubtedly created by a renowned designer.

Natalie cleared her throat and said, “I wasn’t checking him out.” She pretended to be intrigued by a felt pink cowgirl hat. “Just wondering what was with the reporter.”

“That’s probably just a random woman with a store-bought microphone, hoping to get close to Michael,” the shop owner said with a giggle. “Michael Jones is one of the star’s of this city’s NFL team, and women do anything to get to him. Wide receiver. Very talented.”

Of course, Natalie thought, wondering how she hadn’t pegged him as a professional athlete. I’m sure he’s very talented in many ways, was her next sour thought.

“He comes by here quite often, because he’s got a restaurant a few doors over,” the designer went on. “A soul food place. Bought it for his cousin to run, and unlike some of those other stuck-up athletes, he drops by a lot. It thrills the fans.”

“I’m sure,” Natalie quipped. Then she promptly turned around. The brother was fine…no doubt about it…but she was in no mood to ogle a professional athlete.

“Sorry to talk your ear off,” Edna said. “I’ll leave you to your shopping. I guess I’m as guilty as all the other women in this town. When Michael Jones comes around, I have to get a glimpse.”

“I can see why,” Deanna said.

Edna shrugged sheepishly, then added, “I’m here if you need any help.”

“We’re good,” Natalie told her. Moving away from the window, she saw another interesting hat. She picked up the baseball styled cap adorned with gems and glitter. The word love was written in glitter, which only made Natalie think about Vance again.

“Pregnant,” she mumbled to herself. “My God, it makes sense.”

“I was only speculating,” Deanna said. “Which was really silly. Because without any pr—”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Natalie went on, as though Deanna had just confirmed that she had heard rumors Olivia was pregnant. “Seriously, I shouldn’t be surprised. Vance is capable of anything.”

“Me and my big mouth,” Deanna said. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about Vance. You’re only getting more upset.”

“How can I not be upset? Why else would Vance divorce me without even the courtesy of letting me know ahead of time? Obviously because he got that tramp pregnant.”

“That hat I like,” Deanna said, trying to change the subject. “Yeah, real different.”

“I’m taking it.” Natalie walked back to the large purple one and picked that up, as well. Then she picked up a white cloth hat she hadn’t even tried on and walked with the items toward the front register.

“Lovely choices,” the designer told her. “Now, I don’t know if you had a chance to see the fascinators I have in this corner. Those are the little hats that rest on the front of your head. They became real popular after the royal wedding. A lot of ladies are wearing them to church. They’re not nearly as hot in the summer. The one with the blue feathers is made from the feathers of my friend’s tiger macaw—”

“I’ll take it,” Natalie said. “And give me that black fancy one with the jewels and netting.”

“Where are you going to wear that?” Deanna asked in a low tone.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Vance’s funeral?”

“Oh, boy,” Deanna said.

“Did you say you’re going to a funeral?” Edna asked, her face twisting with concern.

“My aunt recently passed,” Deanna quickly said before Natalie could speak. “My sister was saying this would have been a nice fascinator to wear to the funeral.”

“Or any funeral,” Natalie added.

Not that she wished Vance dead.

Well, not particularly. She didn’t plan to participate in a voodoo ritual to ensure his painful demise.

The purchases paid for, Deanna all but hustled Natalie out of the store. “Retail therapy is over. I say we go home, and you get into a hot bath—”

“Natalie Cooper?”

At the sound of her name, Natalie instinctively turned. It took her a moment to recognize that the woman moving toward her was the same one who had earlier approached Michael Jones. Natalie’s eyes went lower, to the microphone the woman had in her hand.

“How do you feel about the news that your barely ex-husband has just gotten engaged?”

Natalie was too stupefied to speak.

“You did hear, didn’t you?” the woman asked, sounding almost gleeful. “The ink is barely dry on your divorce papers, yet Vance has already proposed to Olivia Markson. From what I understand, she was your former best friend, right?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Deanna asked, stepping in front of Natalie.

“Please don’t sensationalize this story,” Natalie said. “No one in Cleveland cares about me and Vance.”

“But the people of San Antonio most certainly do.”

“San Antonio?” Natalie asked, not understanding.

“I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself. I’m Hyacinth Hamilton, from the San Antonio Times.”

A reporter from San Antonio was here? A reporter had tracked her down in her uncle’s hometown? Natalie glanced around nervously, wondering if there were more reporters lurking nearby. When she and Vance had announced their separation two months ago, the reporters had converged like vultures.

“So how do you feel about what’s transpired?” the reporter went on.

“I—I—” Natalie’s head was spinning. God help her, she didn’t want another media spectacle made of her life. Hounded wherever she went…

“You didn’t know,” the reporter surmised.

“Of course she knew,” Deanna snapped, “but she doesn’t care. Now, if you’ll leave my sister alone.”

“Deanna Hart,” the reporter said, grinning as though she was a little star struck. “When will you come out with a new CD? Your fans have been waiting for what, nearly three years now?”

“Leave us alone,” Deanna reiterated, sounding sterner, and Natalie couldn’t help thinking that Hyacinth had hit a nerve.

Deanna took Natalie by the arm and hurried in the opposite direction toward where the car was parked. Natalie almost made it there, but stopped and turned. It hit her suddenly, the severity of Vance’s betrayal. And Olivia’s. The ink wasn’t even dry on the separation papers, much less the divorce papers. And already Vance was moving on?

How dare the two of them so publicly flaunt their adulterous relationship at that hotel in Vegas, where Vance had presented Olivia with a huge diamond. According to this morning’s paper, witnesses had heard Vance tell Olivia that he loved her “more than anyone he had ever loved in his life.”

“Here’s what I have to say,” Natalie began as she reached Hyacinth. “Vance and I are divorced. He’s free to do what he likes. And as far as I’m concerned, he and Olivia deserve each other. I won’t take a guess as to how long their marriage will last, but you know what they say about cheaters. In any case, I couldn’t care less about the two of them because I’ve moved on,” she finished with finality.

Then she whirled around—and bumped smack into the hard wall of a masculine chest.

“Excuse me—”

“I’m sorry—”

Natalie slowly looked up. The silk shirt she had seen earlier. The sleek sunglasses.

Michael Jones put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. And then a slow grin formed on his perfectly full lips as he looked down at her.

“I’m sorry,” Natalie repeated.

Michael’s eyes swept over her, leaving her skin feeling flushed. Or was that the Cleveland sun?

“No need to be sorry,” Michael said in a voice that was deep and smooth. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip before speaking. “In fact, I am the exact opposite of sorry. Sweetheart, you can bump into me any time, any day, any hour.”

I get it, Natalie thought, and stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “All the same, I apologize. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She sidestepped him and began to walk toward the car, and was surprised when Michael took her hand. “Oh, no,” he said. “I can’t have you walking away from me, not when fate had us meet. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Natalie didn’t speak, just checked out the smile he likely thought could charm any woman into his bed.

“Angel?” he guessed when Natalie stayed silent. “Yeah, I bet you looked just like a little angel when you were born, and that’s what your mama named you.”

Now Natalie did roll her eyes. Wow, the guy really did think he was smooth.

“All that matters,” she began calmly, “is that I know your name, Michael Jones.” She smiled. “You have yourself a good day.”

Natalie slipped her hand from his and jogged this time, hurrying to the car where Deanna was waiting.

“What does that mean?” Michael called out to her. “Come on, sweetheart—you really gonna walk away from me like that?”

“What’s going on?” Deanna asked when Natalie got into the car.

“Drive,” Natalie said. “Now.”

* * *

For the rest of that day and into the next, the news of Vance’s engagement was the talk of all the gossip shows. Like Deanna had speculated, others wondered if Vance had gotten a quickie divorce from Natalie because Olivia was pregnant.

Natalie had tried to put all the gossip out of her mind, painful as it was. For some reason, it helped to think of her brief encounter with Michael Jones. The quick moment of flirtation, one-sided though it had been. Natalie enjoyed remembering that sexy smile on Michael’s face, so quickly followed by his surprised expression when she’d walked away from him.

Athletes. They were a different breed. Rejecting him had given Natalie a momentary surge of power at a time when she had been feeling powerless.

It had also been wonderful to see Callie, Nigel and Kwame upon their return from Tallahassee the previous evening. Natalie had been able to forget about Vance as she spent time with her newly engaged sister, fussing over her injuries like a mother hen and oohing over the beautiful engagement ring Nigel had presented to her. It had been a happy evening, one in which Natalie’s personal life had been firmly put on the back burner.

But later that night, as Natalie lay in bed alone, she hadn’t been able to get past what Vance had done. And though she didn’t care to hear another word about the man she now considered the biggest mistake in her life, she couldn’t help going to the website for the San Antonio Times the next day after breakfast to check out what Hyacinth had written.

I’ve Moved On, Vance’s Jilted Wife Insists

Natalie groaned as she saw the headline on the first page of the paper’s website. If that was the headline, what would the article itself say?

Natalie scrolled down. There was a wedding photo of her and Vance that had been graphically altered to look like a picture being ripped down the middle. Juxtaposing that photo was one of Vance and Olivia cozying up at a blackjack table in Vegas, looking like the happiest couple in the world.

Natalie wanted to throw up.

She didn’t care to read the article. It was too much. Breaking up was hard enough, but doing so in the public eye was unbearable.

Maybe Deanna was right about that whole Mercury in retrograde stuff. Because each day was bringing more stress. Yes, Natalie had been on a high after learning that Callie would be fine, and seeing her last night had been wonderful indeed. But it was hard to escape the reality that the person she’d married for life had so little disregard for her that he would divorce her quickly in Nevada, only to flaunt his engagement to her former best friend.

Natalie turned off the computer and went into the bathroom opposite her bedroom on the second floor of her uncle’s home. She didn’t want to wallow in the misery of wondering if Vance had ever loved her, because it ultimately didn’t matter. But yes, the truth was that she absolutely had hoped for the fairy tale with her husband.

She locked the bathroom door, then turned on the shower. A nice, hot shower was what she needed to push thoughts of Vance out of her mind.

“You want me to break his legs?” Callie had asked last night as they’d all been at Nigel’s home. “Because I’ll do it. As soon as my injuries heal, I’ll head to San Antonio and take care of him.”

That had gotten laughs from everyone, including Natalie, who at the time had been able to compartmentalize her pain. Concentrating on the reality that her sister was alive and well was far more important than the fact that she had lost a man who had not loved her.

At least that was what she had told herself yesterday. But now…Natalie swallowed a sigh. And as she stepped into the hot shower, she began to cry again.

Angry with herself, she slammed her hand against the tile wall. “Save your tears, Natalie. Just because you always believed in fairy tales doesn’t mean you’re childish enough not to accept that when something is wrong, it’s wrong.”

And marrying Vance had been wrong. She hadn’t known it at the time, but people made mistakes in this life. They were supposed to learn from those mistakes and move on. At least she knew she had done her part to keep the marriage going—which included being faithful to her husband. She had wanted forever with Vance. He, however, had been so into himself and the fact that he was the great Vance Cooper that he couldn’t truly care for another person.

With that thought, Natalie allowed the hot water to splash over her entire face. And she hoped that as her tears mixed with the water and disappeared down the drain, so would the remnants of anything she felt for the man she had been fool enough to marry.

Chapter 3

Natalie was seasoning boneless chicken breasts to grill for dinner when the phone rang again.

Deanna, who was in the kitchen with her cutting potatoes for the salad, was the one who went to answer the phone.

“Maybe you shouldn’t answer it,” Natalie said. “I’m sure it’s another reporter.” Another reporter who clearly wanted to hear her bad-mouth Vance so he or she could feed the team of hungry tabloids and gossip magazines with more dirt.

They had been calling since the sun had come up, and frustrated, Natalie had stupidly spoken to a reporter just after lunch. The woman had wanted her response to the fact that Vance was talking up a storm about how he had found his “true love” and how that made her feel. It was the kind of ridiculous question quack reporters were famous for: Your son was just crushed by truck. How do you feel, sir? Natalie had hung up without answering.

“If it’s a reporter, I’ll get rid of the pest,” Deanna said. “But maybe it isn’t, because this time the display isn’t showing that a private number is calling. It’s a Cleveland number.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Natalie pointed out. She would never forget the time someone had come to her house pretending to be an electrician, when, in fact, the man had been a reporter trying to get the scoop on whether or not Vance was actually considering leaving San Antonio to play for a Los Angeles team.

Reporters would do anything to get the story they wanted.

Picking up the phone, Deanna uttered a pleasant greeting then paused. “Are you a reporter? Okay, then may I ask who’s calling?”

Lowering the phone and covering the mouthpiece with her hand, Deanna said, “Natalie, it’s for you. Some woman named Penelope who claims she’s not a reporter.”

Natalie narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You don’t actually expect her to say, ‘Yeah, I’m a reporter.’ Come on, Dee.”

“She said she’s from some children’s charity,” Deanna explained.

Natalie frowned, but was slightly less suspicious. She did a lot of charitable work in San Antonio. But still she said, “Ask her what charity.”

Deanna put the phone to her ear again. “What charity?” And after a moment, “Oh. Okay.”

“Well?” Natalie asked. She knew some of these reporters were very clever. She didn’t want to be tricked.

“She says it’s a local children’s charity for kids with cancer, and she could really use your help. That she knows of your charitable work in San Antonio.” Deanna shrugged. “I don’t know. She sounds legit.”

It was a subject near and dear to her heart, one Natalie had spent a lot of time lending her voice to back in San Antonio. But still, it could be a trick, a desperate reporter who knew enough about her to try and lure her onto the line under false pretenses.

“Are you going to take the call?” Deanna asked, still covering the mouthpiece with her hand.

“All right.” Natalie supposed she may as well talk to the person on the phone, even if she would only end up telling the woman off for her ruse. She turned on the kitchen sink, washed her hands, dried them with a dish towel, then crossed the kitchen and took the phone from her sister’s hands.

“This is Natalie Cooper. I mean Hart.” If Vance was already engaged to somebody else, then why should Natalie use his surname anymore? She was a Hart. And it was even more important for her to cling to that connection to her mother now, to her sisters. The Hart name had much more meaning to Natalie at this point in her life than it ever had before.

“Hello, Mrs. Cooper,” came the relieved reply. “I’m really glad I found you.”

“And who are you?” Natalie asked, knowing that she sounded a little brusque.

“My name is Penelope Rand. And I knew your aunt. Jean…she was such a wonderful person. She gave so much to this community, volunteering for one cause after another. I really appreciated her and I miss her terribly.”

Thinking of her aunt caused Natalie’s chest to tighten. “Yes, I miss her, too.”

“I was excited to hear that you are in town, especially because your aunt told me about your efforts to help raise funds for childhood cancer research. I’m on the board of a small local charity, Compassion for Families, and our mandate is a little different than what you’re used to. We don’t raise funds for cancer research. Rather, the money we raise supports a home here in Cleveland where families from out of town can live while their child is undergoing treatment at one of the local hospitals. Or, if they live in town but are facing financial hardships because of the cost of medical care, we help out with rent or mortgage payments. The cancer patient needs support, but so does the entire family unit—and that’s where we come in.”