“Sex? No matter how tired Davis is, he seems to always be up for that. Usually, I can, but I’m so mad at him, I don’t know how I can pull it off.”
“Just stop being angry, or maybe not stop, but pause. Think back to the first time the two of you made love on that island and how you felt?”
Nicole sighed, and a corner of her lips ticked up. “The island. God that seems like so long ago.”
“Yeah, I remember how hard you fell in love with him. You traveled all the way to Fiji to get over it. That kind of love doesn’t just disappear.”
“Technically, I was running away from my ex, Todd, and ran right smack dab into the hurricane that is Davis.”
“Do you still love him?”
Seconds ticked by before Nicole answered. “More than anything. I just want things to go back to the way they were. Only, I don’t know how to get us there.” Nicole made it to her destination. The half-hour drive went by like no time had passed at all. She pulled the black Mercedes Benz into the underground garage and parked.
Dana was sympathetic. “I know you do, and he feels the same way. That’s how I know you’ll get through this. Everyone goes through a rough patch. So, to answer your question, What’s Love Got to Do with It? Everything.”
Nicole wasn’t so sure. She released a long-exaggerated breath. “Thanks for talking me down from the ledge. I’ve arrived for my meeting. I’ve got to get to the 77th floor before I’m late. That’s not a good look, so I’ll call you later at a reasonable hour. Sorry for waking you up.”
“No problem. Nicole?”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure you reach out after the two of you talk. Remember, good sex covers a multitude of problems.” Dana laughed, hoping Nicole would take her advice, not necessarily about the sex, but definitely the talking part. Hopefully, it would lead to an incredible make-up smash session.
Nicole disconnected the call. Sex was never our problem, too bad everything else was.
*****
“I think this is cause for celebration!” Aimee Simon, the Angel Foundation President, clapped her manicured hands together and declared in a fit of laughter. She pressed the conference room’s intercom. “Claire, get the champagne. Somewhere in the world, the afternoon has arrived.”
Nicole was so excited she could barely sit still. The board sat around a luxurious cherry wood conference table, surrounded by the best view of the city, celebrating the closing of the deal. Roman, or Rome, Adar Abboud and his associates agreed to donate ten million dollars toward the building of the new Angel Group Home facility due in no small part to Nicole’s persuasive skills. This was the most significant donation Nicole had ever landed. Her first instinct was to call Davis, but that would have to wait until she contacted Jane about DJ.
At the end of the meeting, before everyone was about to leave, both parties were standing around, shaking hands, and smiling from ear to ear. The group had broken up into pockets of individual conversations. However, the man with the pen and the money, Mr. Abboud, wanted a word with Nicole. “Ms. Chatham. May I speak to you—privately?”
She nodded and answered through a permanently fixed upon her face grin. “Of course.” Nicole stepped away from her colleagues and followed the giant over to a small corner of the conference room. Roman had to be over six-feet-five. Erika Lancaster, one of the members of the Angel Foundation’s board, had been crushing on him ever since they met at another fundraiser for children’s autism. Dark, brooding eyes, broad shoulders, thick jet-black hair, and a smile to die for with perfectly straight teeth that shined bright against the natural tan of his skin would have made most women weak in the knees. He was the talk of the office the first time the entire board met with Mr. Abboud. Nicole wondered how the thirty-seven-year-old had remained single all this time—especially, one with a philanthropic heart. That was always sexy on a man. Still, while he made the other women in the room lose their minds, he did absolutely nothing for her—not a pitter nor a patter.
“Ms. Chatham, I was especially persuaded by your story of growing up in foster care. Being a woman of color, I know it added just an extra layer of difficulties that others with a different hue might not have had to face.”
“That’s why this facility is so important. I want young girls who grew up like me to have a place where they can feel safe. A place where there will always be people to help them feel grounded. Nothing can ever replace a loving home, but my hope is Angel House will come very close.”
“A worthy cause and a woman with pure passion running it. It can’t be anything but successful. Congratulations again on making a man like me part with his money.” Roman chuckled. “You’ve staged a coup that doesn’t happen as often as it should. I would love it if you would allow me to take you to lunch to celebrate. Maybe we could discuss more ways I could be of service.”
The way he said service was . . . interesting. Nicole’s smile remained in place while her brain attempted to figure
