A Love Like This Page 5

  “History, indeed. Your history is as the pip-squeak little sister, and his is as the hot friend of your older brother.” Belinda chuckled. “Yeah. Y’all go way back.”

  Hadley stuck out her tongue at her friend. She loved Belinda like a sister, but sometimes she could do without her plainspoken honesty. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, B. If you feel that way about it, then why are you pushing me to go after him?”

  “It’s like I said. If you don’t, someone else is going to move in on him.”

  Hadley fixed her with a glare and waited.

  Belinda sighed. “Fine. Look, I’ve known you how long now? Approximately forever, right?”

  “That’s about right.” They’d been the tag team of terror for more than a decade.

  “In all that time, I’ve never known you to be into anyone the way you’re into Devon. The way I see it, y’all are soul mates. I get that he’s all famous now, and that makes it harder to approach him. But you’re in a unique situation that gives you total access to him.”

  With her chin resting on her fist, Hadley nodded. “I suppose that’s true. I even have a key to the town house...but I would never infringe on his privacy by using it without his permission.”

  “I’m not suggesting you do that. But I think it would be pretty stupid of you to let the opportunity to make your feelings known pass you by.” Belinda’s expression changed, becoming more serious. “I just want you to be happy, Hadley. You work so hard at MHI, picking up the slack for everyone else. You deserve to be happy, girl.”

  Despite her earlier annoyance, Hadley felt the smile tipping her lips. “That’s really sweet, B. Thanks for caring so much.”

  “Hey, somebody’s got to look after you.” Belinda playfully punched Hadley on the arm, an accompaniment to her teasing. “You’re too busy looking out for everyone else.”

  Mulling her friend’s words over, Hadley turned her attention back to the magazine still lying open across her lap. She continued to flip the pages and read some of the text, but her mind insisted on playing out possible ways she might approach Devon. She didn’t want to come off as desperate or pushy or do anything else that would lead her efforts to crash and burn before they even got off the ground.

  Her interactions with Devon so far made her aware of how much he valued his solitude and privacy. As much as she wanted to get his attention, she knew he wouldn’t go for being openly pursued. No, it was best to bide her time and wait for the right moment to let him know exactly how she felt.

  Somehow, she knew that moment was coming.

  * * *

  With his tablet in hand, Devon slid open the glass doors leading to the back patio. The stone courtyard, with its resin-and-glass dining set, gas grill and comfortable resin love seat, was one of his favorite features of the town house. The location of the property, near the southern tip of the island, meant he could enjoy ocean views from both the front and back of the house. He eased onto the cushioned love seat and settled in. Just beyond the five-foot powder-coated iron fence surrounding the patio lay a wide band of sand that gave way to the blue waves of the Atlantic.

  He turned his attention to the tablet, adjusting the screen brightness for easier viewing in the sunlight. The day was temperate, in the midfifties, and he’d donned a pair of gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved black T-shirt. Usually at this time on a Saturday afternoon, he’d be working out, but his injury prevented him from doing much in the way of exercise other than walking. The prescription he’d gotten from Dr. Stinger did a lot to ease the pain, but he didn’t want to risk making matters worse by hitting the gym.

  He took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air. As he exhaled, he made sure to force the air out from his diaphragm. Despite his inability to do his usual number of sit-ups, he was determined to maintain his core strength. He was no doctor, but he knew that abdominal strength and stability would only help his back.

  He tapped the screen, intent on opening the web browser, but an incoming video call interrupted his effort. Seeing the face of his old friend and mentor on the screen made him smile. Swiping across, he answered the call. “Rick! How the hell are you?”

  “Great, great. How are you doing, young buck?” Rick Rollingsworth, a consummate actor who was considered Hollywood royalty, smiled from across the miles. The man was in great physical shape, and the only hint of his nearly sixty years of living was the small streak of gray hair running across his hairline. “Enjoying your vacation?”

  “Yes. It’s beautiful down here. And far more quiet than LA could ever be.” Devon raised the tablet, turning it so Rick could see the water. “Look at that ocean. And barely a soul out here to disturb my peace.”

  Rick chuckled. “I’m jealous. I’m still on set for the Teddy Pendergrass biopic.” He panned his camera around, showing Devon the bustling activity going on in the studio. An outdoor backdrop, depicting a city street, hung behind Rick. People rushed back and forth through the cavernous space, carrying props, chatting noisily and pushing carts. “They’re moving equipment between soundstages right now, then they’ll set up the next take.”

  Devon shook his head. He admired Rick’s work ethic, and he knew a large part of Rick’s success as an African American actor in a less-than-hospitable film industry could be traced back to it. “Jeez. It’s little more than a week before Christmas. When are they gonna wrap this thing up?”

  “Hell if I know.” Rick shrugged. “Filming is going to continue in the New Year, probably. But I expect they’ll let us go for a holiday break in the next couple of days. Even if they don’t, I’m out by the twentieth. My wife isn’t going to have me staying any longer than that.”

  “How is Odetta, anyway? I haven’t seen her in a while.” Devon was particularly fond of Rick’s wife, who loved to bake and often sent cookies, pies and other homemade sweets to the film sets they worked on together.

  “She’s great. She’s out shopping right now, no doubt. Between her and Richelle, I gotta take most of the roles that come my way.” He laughed as he spoke of his twentysomething daughter, his and Odetta’s only child. “They’re both spoiled as hell, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Devon chuckled. “We both know that. So, what’s up? There’s got to be a reason you’re calling me from on set.”

  Rick snapped his fingers, as if remembering something. “Yes, there is. I’ve been called to consult on a new film project. The screenwriter wants to put together a whole new team of up-and-coming talent. You know, a new director, producer, actors at the beginning of their careers, the whole nine.”

  Devon’s ears perked up. “Really? So, what’s the project about?”

  “It’s a romantic thriller, exploring the Black Panther Party in the ’60s. I’ve seen the script, and it’s pretty impressive writing. The man’s got a gift, and if he can pull the right team together, he’s got a hit on his hands.”

  Scratching his chin, Devon thought about what he’d just heard. The film’s premise was intriguing, and he always sought out roles that allowed him to tell stories he thought were important. “How are the Panthers portrayed?”

  “Pretty objectively, from what I can tell. You won’t find any of that manufactured lore about them being a criminal organization, but they aren’t painted as saints, either.”

  The more Devon heard, the more he liked the project. “So, I guess this means you’re ready to deal me in, then?”

  Rick nodded. “Yeah. I thought you might like to step in as one of the Panthers’ enforcers. The role is available, and you’ve definitely got the body type.”

  Devon sucked in a breath. “Okay, Rick. I’m interested in participating, but not as an actor.”

  Rick’s thick brow rose a few inches. “Then what, pray tell, would you be doing?”

  “Directing.” He kept his expression even, hoping to convey his seriousness.

>   It was to no avail, because Rick immediately burst out laughing.

  Devon sat there, watching the screen and waiting for Rick to recover.

  When he finally stopped laughing, he said, “Okay, Devon. I’ll let the screenwriter know that everyone’s favorite action hero wants to direct.”

  Devon frowned. “Come on, Rick. I’m serious.”

  That only started the laughter again. “I hear you, man.” Rick inserted his words between guffaws. “Look, I’ll let you go. I’ll get back to you on your directorial debut. ’Bye, Devon.” His image faded from the screen as he ended the video call.

  Setting the tablet on the cushion next to him, Devon folded his arms over his chest. He’d put himself out there, made his aspirations known, only to be laughed at by the man he looked up to.

  He shook his head ruefully. This was precisely why he hadn’t told anyone of his aspirations. Moving behind the camera wasn’t some fly-by-night idea he’d come up with on the plane ride. He’d been thinking about it for the past two years, at least. He loved acting and loved his fans even more. But the stunt work side of things only became harder and more physically taxing as the years went by. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d stay young and able-bodied forever. Even though he kept himself in excellent physical shape, his efforts hadn’t prevented his recent injury.

  All he could do now was wait and hope Rick put in a good word for him. With no information on the project other than the general premise, he’d be hard-pressed to find out any more about it on his own.

  His face tight with tension and worry, Devon closed his eyes and set his focus on the sound of the rolling waves.

  Chapter 6

  Standing in line at Della’s Delicatessen, Hadley tapped her foot to the rhythm of an ’80s pop song playing on the jukebox. There were still three people ahead of her, as well as five or six behind her. She’d been waiting about ten minutes so far, but this wasn’t anything new for the Monday lunch rush. There were no other delis in town, so if you wanted a great sandwich that you didn’t have to make yourself, you stood in line at Della’s with everybody else.

  Once the person ahead of her was served, she moved forward in time with the rest of the line. Her phone buzzed in the hip pocket of her slacks, and she reached to check it.

  It was a text message from Belinda.

  Lunch today?

  She typed a quick reply.

  Can’t. Grabbing lunch for the office. TTYL.

  Sending the message off, she tucked her phone away just as the line moved again. Observing the faces of the people around her, she saw many that were familiar. Della’s was an out-of-the-way spot, tucked in a nondescript one-story building on the southwestern side of the island. Only the intrepid tourist in search of a quick lunch or light dinner found the place, which was a hit among the locals. There were several chain restaurants that were more centrally located, and Hadley had driven right past them on her way to Della’s.

  When Hadley got to the counter, the woman herself greeted her. Della Hall, her gray hair covered in her signature white hairnet, leaned over the counter as she approached. “Hey, Hadley. How are you? How are your parents and those crazy brothers of yours?”

  Smiling, Hadley set her purse on the counter. “Everybody’s good, Della. You ready for the holidays?”

  “Yes, if you mean ready to take myself a vacation. We close up on the twenty-third and don’t open back up until the second of January.”

  “Here’s the order, Miss Della.” A young man in one of Della’s famous green-checked aprons passed her two plastic bags brimming with food.

  “Thank you.” Della placed the bags on the counter in front of Hadley. “Okay, love. Got your order right here. Let’s run through it and make sure everything’s there.”

  Hadley ran down the office lunch order, which included seven different sandwiches, a salad and all the side items. The fridge in the break room was usually stocked with drinks, so she’d left those off when she had called in the order earlier. As Hadley went down the list, Della produced each item from one of the bags. “Looks like we’re all set.” She passed Della the company credit card.

  After Della swiped the card, she handed it back to Hadley with her receipt. “There you go. Y’all enjoy.”

  “Thanks, Della.” Hoisting the two bags down from the counter, Hadley turned and started to leave.

  “Wait a minute. Let me ask you something.”

  She turned back to face Della. “Sure. What is it?”

  “Any word on what y’all are going to do with that last plot of land you just cleared?” Della tapped the end of a short pencil on the counter as she waited for a response.

  Hadley shook her head. “Not yet, but there’s a meeting about that after lunch. Whatever I find out, I’ll pass on to you.”

  “I’d appreciate it. If it’s possible, I’d love to build a bigger deli, and that’s about the only place left on the island where I can do it.”

  Hadley nodded. “I’ll look into it and let you know.” With that, she took the food and exited the deli. Outside, she set the bags on the passenger floorboard of the company car, climbed in and drove away.

  Back at the office, she hoisted the bags out of the car. At first, she thought she’d be hauling them in, but one of the two young male interns from Campbell’s department helped her bring everything in and set it down in the break room. Campbell had only had his interns for about three weeks, and Hadley wondered when he’d start putting them to full use. Maybe then he’d stop leaving his work on her desk. After thanking the young man, she claimed her salad box and took it to her office to eat at her desk.

  After lunch, she filed into the conference room with her brothers and the five other staff members who normally attended these meetings. Savion, as chief executive, sat at the head of the table, with Campbell to his right and Hadley to his left. The receptionist, marketing officer, operations officer and the two interns rounded out the group.

  Once everyone had settled into their seats, Savion stood and grabbed a long tube of paper that had been leaning against the wall behind his chair. “Good afternoon, everyone. I called this meeting to share with you an interesting proposal that has come in for the remaining land MHI plans to develop.” He unfastened the band around the paper and opened it, rolling it out on the table.

  Campbell, poring over the paper with the others, asked, “What is it?”

  “This is a concept drawing for Sapphire Landing. It would be a place designed specifically for the convenience of the tourists who visit Sapphire Shores.”

  Staring at the oversize paper to view the drawing, Hadley could feel her brow furrowing. “It looks like a mall. All I see is a bunch of chain stores and restaurants clustered together.”

  Savion shook his head. “No. It’s not a mall. While there is shopping available from familiar brands, there are also condominiums. We could rent them out at a premium price because of their proximity to restaurants, shopping and the beach.”

  Hadley frowned. From what she could see, the whole thing looked and sounded gaudy and overly commercial. Savion seemed to have dollar signs where his pupils should be, and she was afraid that he couldn’t hear what she was saying over the sound of the imaginary cash register ringing in his head. “What happened to donating some of the land to the municipality for public green space? Or offering plots to local businesses that want to relocate and expand?” She thought about Della and her desire to grow her business. In a prime location, Della would do very well.

  Martin, the marketing officer, piped up then. “There’s still the possibility of that. We all know that donating land would only benefit our public image.”

  Hadley sighed. Martin was the only one who’d offered any defense of the green space idea, and it had been solely based on building up the company’s reputation, not on building up the
community for the island’s residents. She turned to her older brother. “Savion. This development is all wrong for our island. It just doesn’t fit the way we live here.”

  “And what brings you to that conclusion, Hadley?” The condescension had already begun to creep into his tone.

  Struggling to keep her frustration with him in check, she answered, “We’re a close-knit community, and I think bringing in all these chains and fancy condominiums will diminish the special charm of Sapphire Shores.”

  Savion shook his head. “You’re so young and idealistic, Hadley. It isn’t just about the money we’ll make on this deal. Think of all the new jobs this would bring to the island. Construction jobs at first, then jobs within the establishments once they’re open.”

  At the opposite end of the table, the receptionist, who’d been busy taking notes, glanced up on the heels of his words. As if sensing the rising tension, she immediately turned her attention back to her laptop.

  Hadley pursed her lips. Her brother had just dismissed her, again, and everyone in the room could sense it. Leaning back in her chair, she vowed to keep quiet the rest of the meeting. Arguing with Savion was about as effective as arguing with a telephone pole. As the rest of the staff talked excitedly about what it would be like to have a place like Sapphire Landing in town, she tuned them out. Her focus was better spent on coming up with a way to stop this development and formulating an alternate plan for the land.

  She loved Sapphire Shores. She stayed because she loved this place.

  And she wouldn’t sit idly by and watch some developer ruin everything that made it unique.

  * * *

  Tuesday afternoon, Devon was sitting sideways on the couch with his feet propped up on the backrest. The television was on, but he wasn’t really watching it. He’d spent the better part of the day calling around to see if any agency could send over a housekeeper or personal chef to handle his meals.

  His search had been largely fruitless, since Quick Transformations was the only agency on the island that handled such requests. He supposed he understood that, as there was probably very little call for personal chefs in Sapphire Shores. Since Quick Transformations already provided housekeeping for MHI, he’d thought he might be able to request some extra service.