It's Always Been You

“Drake, did you hear what I said?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“I said he asked for you,” she told him. “Said he had something to give you.”

Adjusting his towel, he secured the knot. “Can you...?”

“Oh.” She hurried out of the bathroom, bumping into the door on the way out.

He slipped his sweatpants back on hurriedly. When he came out of the bathroom, Love was sitting on the bed, shoulders slouched. Grabbing a T-shirt, he pulled it on. He wondered if she’d remembered anything. His thoughts drifted to his roaming hands...her flat, quivering stomach...the sultry moans coming from her full lips. Shaking his head, he strode past her and into the living room.

The concierge greeted him with a wide smile. “Good morning, Dr. Jackson. I trust you had a wonderful night.” He shook his hand.

“What can I do for you?” Drake asked.

Love appeared in the doorway. She folded her arms across her robe and leaned against the frame.

Drake shifted his attention away from her and back to the concierge, who was eyeing Love with interest. Drake cleared his throat. “How can I help you?”

The short man coughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t,” Drake told him.

“I just thought you might like this,” he said, holding out a small box.

Drake grabbed the box and examined it. “What’s this?”

The concierge laughed. “Very funny, Dr. Jackson.” He patted him on his shoulder. “We rushed this up as soon as it was sized.”

Opening the box, Drake gaped at the huge diamond ring. “Why did you bring me this?”

The man shifted. “You ordered it, Dr. Jackson. Last night.”

His headache suddenly grew worse. “I didn’t order this.”

“You and the missus were in the hotel store and you purchased it.”

Drake pretended he didn’t hear Love’s gasp or feel her body leaning up against his back as she gawked at the ring in his hand. “The missus? What the hell are you talking about? I’m not married.”

“Uh, sir, you and your wife approached the front desk attendant and asked to purchase the ring from the hotel jewelry store.” The man motioned to Love. “It was around three o’clock this morning. You told him you were on your way to your wedding.”

“My what?” Drake bellowed, struggling to remember that part of the evening. “This has to be a mistake. I’m not married. And what kind of jewelry store is open at three o’clock in the morning?”

“W-well, you insisted,” the concierge stuttered. “Your wife spotted the ring in the display case. You paid for it with your credit card and she gave us her ring size. Trust me, it was a legitimate transaction.”

Advil. Better yet, Vicodin. He sat on the edge of the couch and pinched his forehead. Could this day get any worse? It wasn’t enough that he had made love to his best friend and remembered only bits of it. Obviously, there was more to last night than sex.

“Are you sure, sir?” Love asked. “Maybe someone stole Drake’s wallet and used his credit card to purchase this ring?”

The concierge sucked in a deep breath. “Ma’am, perhaps the problem was too many drinks?”

Drake flew to his feet, twisted the man’s lapels in his fists and pulled him closer—nose to nose. “Watch your mouth. Perhaps you got the situation wrong.” He let him go, shoving him back a bit.

After straightening his tie, the concierge smoothed a hand over his suit coat. “I’m sorry, Dr. Jackson. But you purchased the ring. I’m sure we can pull up the security cameras.” He drew an envelope out of his inside pocket. “And this was sent over via courier this morning.”

Drake snatched the envelope and ripped it open. Love rested a hand on his arm and he glanced at her. She was stunning, and she smelled like warm vanilla. Forcing his gaze away, he pulled the thick paper out and scanned it. Sighing, he handed it to her.

“Oh, my God!”

Drake rolled his eyes. “You said this was around three?” he asked the concierge.

He nodded. “Yes, according to Bill, the manager in charge. By the way, I wanted to come here in person to let you know that we’ve upgraded you to the honeymoon suite.”

“This can’t be happening,” Love mumbled.

“Honeymoon suite?” Drake asked.

“Yes. To show our appreciation for your business.”

Running his hand through his hair, Drake told him, “I don’t need to switch rooms.”

“We’ve already made the arrangements,” the concierge insisted. “A bellboy will be here shortly to collect your things and transfer them to your new accommodations.”

“This is Vegas.” Drake crossed his arms over his chest. “People get married here all the time. Why upgrade us?”

“Well, after the amount you spent in our hotel store, it’s our pleasure.”

Drake didn’t want to ask the question, but he had to. “How much is the ring?” he groaned.

“This is an original design, worth more than the price you paid.”

“How much?” he repeated.

“We agreed on a discounted price of $15,000.”

Love let out a colorful curse, then covered her mouth.

“Fifteen thousand?” Drake roared. “Are you crazy? They knew we were drinking and they still let me pay that much money for a ring?”

“Like I said, sir, you insisted,” the man responded.

“Thank you,” Love told the concierge. “We appreciate your hospitality. Can you leave us alone for now? We need a moment.” She walked him toward the door. More like pushed him. “And we appreciate the gesture, but the honeymoon suite is not necessary.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Jackson,” the man said, with a wide smile. “Please let us know if you change your mind.”

“We will,” she assured him. “Thank you again. Have a good day.”

“I will and—”

She closed the door before the man could finish his sentence.

Drake clutched the ring box in his hand. “I spent $15,000 on a ring, Love.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Drake, we’ll figure this out. We’ll find the receipt and try to return it.”

“Good luck with that. They sold it at a discount. It was probably a final sale.”

“We have to find your wallet,” she said, hurrying into her suite bedroom.

He followed her. She picked a pair of discarded pants off the floor and shoved her hands into the pockets. He checked his coat and discovered his wallet was there. He opened it, leafed through the receipts and found nothing. “It’s not here. I’m screwed,” he said, dropping the wallet on the dresser.

She propped her hands on his shoulders. “Drake, we got married. We don’t remember our wedding. We had sex, after almost thirty years of innocent friendship. Screwed is an understatement. But all is not lost, because we still have our brains. So I say we go find the—” she glanced at the wedding certificate “—Hunk O’ Burning Love Wedding Chapel and try to get this thing annulled. Then we can check with the jewelry store.”

Love grabbed an outfit and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Okay, Mrs. Chipper, what if this can’t be fixed?”

She emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing a pair of capri pants and a tank top. “I’m not dealing with that right now. The worst has to be over.”

Another knock sounded, and they heard a familiar voice from the other side say, “Lovely, open the door.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God.”

He shook his head. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s not over—not by a long shot.”

Chapter 3

“Don’t answer that.” Love wrapped a hand around Drake’s arm. The constant knocking was getting to her, but she could handle it. “Maybe she’ll go away.”

“Have you met your mother?” Drake asked.

“She can’t come in here.” Gloria Helen Washington was the last person Love needed to see today. “She’ll know what happened.”

“How? We’re both fully dressed.” He peeled her hand off him. “Just act normal.” He hurried to the door and opened it.

Gloria breezed into the room. “Lovely Grace Washington, what is your problem? What took you so long to answer the door?”

Love rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. As if naming her Lovely wasn’t bad enough, her mother had added Grace to it. As soon as she was old enough, she’d insisted everyone call her Love. “What is it, Mother? You know it’s early.”

Love knew she hated to be called “Mother.” Gloria wasn’t your average stay-at-home mom. As a child, Love could be found chanting during a windstorm watch, and running around in a bright bandanna and a tie-dyed T-shirt. Yes, her mother was a hippie and damn proud of it. Even in her sixties, Gloria still had a carefree way about her. Her gray curls were wild and free, and she wore loose-fitting, flowing clothes at all times. Her mother thought the world would be a better place if everyone embraced love, hence the name.

Growing up had been pretty traumatic for the straitlaced Love. She was the only black kid in the neighborhood who wore sandals in the winter and listened to Jimi Hendrix. Instead of Ring Pops or Now & Laters, Love was forced to munch on celery sticks and snap peas. No hopscotch or Foursquare for her. Gloria thought it best that she recited poetry in the park. And Love hated poetry. Yet, even though they clashed often, Love adored her mother. And she was proud of the independent woman she’d become after the divorce. Her mother went from doting on her husband to owning one of Vegas’ premier flower shops. Gloria was famous for her floral creations.

Her mother pulled her into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, my baby girl. The rest of the family should arrive sometime this afternoon. Thank you for gracing us with your presence this year. You know, it’s been years since you’ve attended. Everyone always asks about you.”

The rest of her family was as colorful as her mother, which often caused a problem for the Love. For years, the Nelson family gathered on her grandmother’s birthday in March for a family reunion. Each year, the reunion alternated between several states to give each leg of the family a chance to plan it. Love had managed to avoid the last several due to school and work, but since the reunion was back in her childhood hometown, her mother had threatened to haunt her in life and death if she didn’t attend.

Her mother had obsessed about this reunion for over a year, since she was the only member of the family that lived in Las Vegas. The hosting family always stayed at the hotel with everyone else, and Gloria needed Love’s assistance to help make the reunion a success.

“Like I had a choice,” Love grumbled, wrenching herself out of her mother’s arms.

“Don’t get smart.” Gloria smoothed her hair back and grinned at Drake. “Hello, Drake. I’m so glad you’re here.” She embraced him.

“Good to see you, too, Mom,” Drake said.

Love’s best friend had called Gloria that for as long as she could remember. Drake and Gloria had a loving relationship and Love often found herself on the outside looking in at the two of them. They shared the same taste in food and television, preferring big steaks and fried potatoes with their zombie and sci-fi shows.

“You’re looking handsome as ever, son.”

“Mother,” Love said, cutting in, “I know you want to talk about the reunion, but I have to make a few runs. Then I wanted to visit with friends.”

Peering up the ceiling, Love let out a long sigh. She hated lying to her mother. Love was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. She lacked the ability to make it convincing, even though she’d tried to perfect the skill growing up. Although she had made plans to visit with her friends, she had no intention of doing so now. She had business to take care of, a marriage to annul.

“Love, this is family time.” Gloria picked at her daughter’s hair with a frown on her face. “Why did you straighten your beautiful curls?”

Love pushed her hands away. “My hair is fine. And I promised them I’d stop by. The last time I came home to visit, I wasn’t able to spend any time with my friends.”

Gloria dropped her purse on a chair and scanned the room. “This is nice,” she said, as if she couldn’t care less what Love wanted to do. “Listen, a couple of your cousins really wanted to come but they couldn’t afford a hotel. I figure they can sleep in this big ole room with you.”

“No,” Love said. “That’s not possible. Drake is my roommate. The second bedroom is his.”

“I can get my own room,” Drake offered.

Love glared at him. “Mother, how about I catch the next flight back to Michigan, and they can have this room? Or better yet, I can go stay at your house.”

Gloria lived in the Las Vegas suburb of Summerlin South. It was just fifteen miles from downtown. The house held many fond memories for Love and she’d love to get away and sleep in her old room for the night.

“That’s not a good idea,” Gloria said. “You need to stay and be in the thick of things, with me.”

“It’s actually okay. I figure I can spend some time in my childhood home, prepare the house for the cookout you want to have there on Sunday.” Love scratched her neck and tried to ignore the skeptical look on Drake’s face. He must have caught the sarcasm.

“Okay,” he said, elbowing her. “I’ll book a room for them. My treat.”

“Thank you, Drake,” Gloria gushed. “I just love you.”

“So it’s settled, Mother.” Love picked up her mother’s purse and handed it to her. “I have to finish getting ready now. I have so much to do.”

“Wait, I wanted to ask you something. I’m planning a visit to Ann Arbor in a few weeks. Do you have room for your dear old mother?”

Love adored her mother. She really did. But Gloria Washington was a professional nagger. The last time her mom had stayed with her she’d rearranged everything, put all her canned goods in the recycle bin, threw away her favorite socks and insisted Love eat those nasty breakfast bars filled with millet grains.

“Uh...w-well,” she stammered, “I would’ve said it was no problem, but I...it would be awkward.”

“Why?”

That one word was enough to make Love hyperventilate. Briefly, she wondered if her mother would accept it if she answered the question with a whopping “because I said so.” Or better yet, a big fat “nunya.”

“Why, Lovely?” Gloria asked again. “You have a huge three-bedroom condo you’re renting all by yourself. Why would it be awkward? Unless you lied to your mother about living alone?”

Love hated when her mom referred to herself in the third person. She struggled to find a suitable excuse. “I meant to tell you sooner. I don’t live alone anymore.”

“A roommate?”

“Kind of,” Love lied. Again. She pressed a hand to her stomach, uncertain why she felt the need to tell her mother she had a roommate. I have to throw up. “The economy is rough. I figured it would help.”

Gloria’s eyes flitted back and forth between Love and Drake. Finally, she placed a hand on her hip. “When did you start lying to your mother, Lovely?”

Damn. Caught already? “Why do you say that?”

“You hate living with anyone. You wouldn’t even let Drake move in.”

Love shifted her attention to Drake, who was watching her with a smirk on his face. Although he was her best friend, she had turned him down when he’d asked to stay with her while he found a place. Instead, she’d suggested that he book a suite at the Marriott closest to the University of Michigan Hospital, where they were both residents. He was pissed, and didn’t hesitate to tell her. Love had assured him it was the best thing for their friendship. She adored him, but there was no way she could live with him. Drake was your typical smelly, messy and loud man. Not to mention a man-whore.

“Mother,” Love said. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but...” She stalled, running a list of possible roommates in her mind. “Drake is my roommate.”

He gaped at her.

The room was silent for a few minutes as both of them absorbed this news.

“Drake?” Gloria asked. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s the truth. But I can’t really talk about this now. I told you I have plans.”

“No, I want an explanation. If Drake is your roommate, you’ll never find a man who wants to marry you.”

Drake snorted and Love smacked his shoulder.

“When did this end up being about marriage?” she asked her mother. “Wait...don’t answer that.” It seemed as though these days, every conversation between them contained a reference to the M word. “Please, Mother. I promise we’ll spend lots of time together. Later. I’ll answer all of your questions then.” She hugged her. “Love you.”

Gloria stomped to the door. “Okay, Lovely. Take care of your business. But we are going to talk about this. And since Drake is your roommate, he won’t care if I stay there for a few days. Right, Drake?”

He shrugged. “Sure,” he said drily.

Love opened the door to let her out, only to find the concierge on the other side, preparing to knock.

“Mrs. J—”

“Hi!” Love said. “Did you need something?”

“I forgot to give you the receipt from the jewelry store.”

She snatched it from him. “Okay, thanks. Bye.”

“Who is that?” Gloria asked, shoving her out of the way.

“Mom,” Drake interrupted, pulling her from the door. “It’s just the concierge. I purchased something and he was bringing the receipt. Thanks again.” He pushed the door closed, but the concierge stopped it with his toe.

“One more thing, Dr. Jackson. Just a reminder—this is a final sale.”

Love sighed.

Drake muttered a curse. “Fine.”

“Thanks for your business, Dr. Jackson. And congratulations again.” He turned to walk away and Love let out a sigh of relief—until he glanced back at them over his shoulder. “Please let us know if you choose to take us up on the offer of using the honeymoon suite.”

“Honeymoon suite?” Gloria repeated.

“Yes,” the man said, tugging at the lapels of his suit as he lifted his chin. “We here at the Bellagio love to cater to our important guests. Nothing more important than a wedding.”

“Whose wedding?”

“Do something,” Love mouthed to Drake.

“Mom, how about we go get breakfast?” he said, nudging Gloria away from the concierge. “I’m starved.”

“Wait a minute,” she exclaimed, digging in her heels. “Who got married?”

“Why, they did,” the chubby man replied with a toothy grin. “They visited our jewelry store to purchase the ring.”

“Oh, my God.” Love leaned her forehead against the wall.

Gloria turned to them. Tears welled in her eyes, and she fainted.

Chapter 4

Drake watched as Gloria’s eyes rolled back in her head.

“Mother!” Love called. But it was too late.

Gloria fell like a heavy tree and nearly slipped through Drake’s arms, but he was able to catch her. Grunting, he carried her to the couch. “Get my bag, Love,” he ordered.

She sprinted into the bedroom, came back with his medical bag and dropped it on the floor next to him.

The concierge had followed them into the room. Drake glared at him. “You can go now. I’ll handle this.”

“Maybe I should call an ambulance?” he suggested.

“No, she should be fine. Like I said, I’ve got this. I’ll call if we need anything.”

The concierge glanced at Love. When she nodded, he left the room without another word.

Drake assessed Gloria, checking her airway and pulse, while Love propped her legs up on a pillow. Her pulse was strong. “Mom, can you hear me?”

Gloria moaned softly. “Lovely...”

Love knelt in front of her and picked up her hand. “Mom, I’m here.”

Gloria’s eyes fluttered open. Drake let out a quick sigh of relief. Gloria was many things, but mostly she was as much his mother as she was Love’s. Gloria had been the only motherly figure he’d had, since he hadn’t known his real mother. She had stepped in and filled the gap. Drake had never gotten along with his stepmother, and he’d been grateful that he’d had someone in his life who had supported him through everything.

“Mom, are you okay?” Love’s voice pulled him back to the present. “You fainted. Have you been taking your medication? Your insulin? Did you eat this morning?”

Gloria was a diabetic. Over the last few years, she’d had several complications as a result of her illness that had required Love to fly out to Vegas and take care of her. The most recent hospital stay was only a few months ago, and Gloria’s doctors had suggested amputation due to lack of blood flow to her legs and feet.

Love had recently told him that she’d been trying to convince her mother to get a second opinion at University of Michigan Hospital, but her mother had declined. Drake knew it bothered Love that her mother lived so far away and seemed to be getting worse.

Drake poured a glass of water and handed it to Gloria, who took a sip.

“I’ll be okay, baby.” The older woman struggled to sit up. Eventually, she simply leaned on her elbows. “Baby, please tell me...”

Love peered at Drake. “Mom, don’t think about anything right now. You need to lie back. No sudden movements.”

Gloria shook her head and finally sat upright. “I told you I’ll be okay.” She smacked Love’s hand away when she tried to keep her from rising to her feet. “You need to tell me what’s going on. And, Drake, if you don’t tell me the truth, I’m calling your father.”

The threat of his dad knowing anything that was going on in his personal life was enough to give Drake pause. Gloria had used that threat often on him, growing up. It was the only thing he’d ever responded to. Simply put, he couldn’t stand his dad. Life with him had been one disappointment after another. The safe haven that Love and her family had provided had saved him.

Dr. Lawrence Jackson, plastic surgeon extraordinaire, had always been too busy working and having affairs with random women to even care what Drake did in his personal life. What the man cared about was that Drake was surgical resident, studying to take over his own thriving practice. Except Drake never intended to become his father. In fact, he’d worked tirelessly to distance himself from the man who drove him insane with his demands and unrealistic expectations. Instead of plastic surgery, he’d chosen cardiothoracic surgery as his focus, much to his father’s chagrin.

The only thing he’d loved about living at home was his siblings—two brothers, one sister and his uncle El, who was like a brother.

The last thing Drake wanted was his father involved in the mess he’d gotten himself into. No doubt there would be a long lecture that would end in him cursing his dad out and Love urging him to apologize out of respect.

“Mother, please.” Love stood and straightened her clothes. “It’s not what you think. That man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Drake cleared his throat. “Mom, you fainted. You need to relax a bit.”

“I’ll relax when both of you explain to me how you came to Vegas, got married and didn’t tell me.”

Gloria’s sudden high-pitched screech caught him off guard, and he jumped.

“Why are you screaming?” Love covered her ears.

“Because!” She stood finally, pulled them both into a tight hug, and kissed Drake’s cheek. “This is so exciting. Why didn’t you tell me? You should have let me know.”

There was something about her tone that made him a little suspicious.

Love pulled out of the group hug. “Mom, you don’t understand. It—”

Gloria gasped. “We can have a small reception. Yeah. We can do it in June. That will give me enough time.” She sat back down on the sofa, then rifled through her purse and pulled out her phone. “June 10 is perfect. Oh my, I have to get out of here. I have to tell your father, Love.”

Threatening to tell his father was one thing, but there was no way Love’s father could know what had happened. He was, after all, Drake’s boss.

Drake nudged Love. “Do something.”

She stood there, her mouth hanging open.

“Give us a minute, Mom.” Drake pulled Love into her bedroom and slammed the door. “Love, say something to your mother before she tells the whole free world,” he demanded through clenched teeth. “She threatened to tell my father. And did you just hear that she’s going to tell your father? He’ll hop the next flight, then he’ll kick my ass before he fires me.”