Chapter Eight

The members of the rotary club had partied a while. They were enjoying themselves so much, it was hard to get them off the dance floor. Hank walked around with his chest puffed up, proud as a peacock that his event was a success. Kira was so very happy for him. She did wonder, however, what kind of gossip his wife was spreading, because every time she’d look in her direction, she was pointing at someone or whispering.

Kira finally asked another guest if they were enjoying themselves. With the answer, Kira disregarded Beatrice’s actions and reveled in the success of the event. Now that everyone had cleared out, Gail and Ben took care of the kitchen, but there was still a lot to be done. Kira, now barefoot, was stacking the chairs that needed to be sent back to the rental agency, when Franklin walked in.

She walked over and turned on the radio, because she moved faster when she listened to the beat of the music.

“Don’t worry about that,” Franklin said, meeting her in the middle of the floor.

“We need to get this room back in order.”

“Yes, but I can get one of the boys to help me in the morning. I know that you’re tired.”

Kira put the chair down. “I’m sure we all are.”

“Looks like you’ve got a hit on your hands, Ms. Davis.”

“It was a wonderful party, and those folks danced like they were in high school.” Kira laughed. “I was even in the corner doing my thing.”

“Well, we can do it right here, if you want,” Franklin said before going over to the box and hitting the switch to change the song. He came back and reached for her hand.

“Franklin, no. It’s late.”

“Just one dance,” he said, a wide grin on his face. “Show me what you’ve got.”

The song that came on was one that she’d heard several times on the reruns of Soul Train. She started moving her feet and Franklin followed. They were laughing and dancing on the wide wooden floor, the only two people in the room. Before long, though, the song ended and one with a slower pace came through the speakers.

Franklin gently took her hand and pulled her to him.

God, he smells so good. She rested her head against his shoulder.

Kira hummed the words of the song, and soon, she heard Franklin singing it as well. Their eyes met, and when his head descended, she instinctively knew. Her eyes closed, suddenly heavy. She didn’t move away; it was more of an anxious waiting.

Franklin brushed his lips against hers first, then came back and claimed them in a powerful kiss. Her rising passion caused a deep moan to slip from her. Kira allowed herself to get lost in the moment. His large hands caressed her back and her behind, enveloping her with his masculine heat.

He tastes good, too…

Kira had to think quickly before she was consumed by the moment. She could have stood there in the middle of that floor until the sun rose in the morning, kissing Franklin, being in his arms. You’d better chill. In another six weeks, he’ll be gone.

…

The next morning, Kira woke up humming the song she and Franklin had danced to the night before. She also thought about the feedback she received from her aunt as well as what she’d overheard from the guests. She needed to get some paperwork done, but she also wanted to talk to Franklin. Last night proved they worked well together. He was good for the inn.

A light knock on the door claimed her attention. She looked up from the paper and called, “Come in.”

“Good morning,” Franklin said, walking into the office.

“What time did you get the room cleared out?”

“The rental truck just left with all the equipment. Rodney and Jacob helped me get the dining room back in order. The small room is clear to be used again.”

“I felt so good last night, Franklin.”

“Me, too. Having you in my arms, felt natural. So much so, I didn’t want to let you go.”

Kira almost fell out of her chair, trying to get to the door to close it in case someone overheard him. She wasn’t expecting him to bring up their intimate moment. “I’m not talking about that,” she said quickly.

“Well, I am. There’s no need for me to withhold that from you.”

It was clear that Franklin Bennett always said what he meant. He wasn’t afraid to speak what he felt.

His facial expression changed from confident to disappointed. “Are you saying that you didn’t feel what I felt?”

“I did, Franklin. But…”

He moved closer to her; the heat he exuded tempted her a step forward. She looked up at him and the sincerity in his eyes. “But what?” he prompted.

She paused to think, and he kept talking. “I honestly can’t ignore my feelings when it comes to you. I thought I could, but it’s getting stronger.”

Kira didn’t know how to respond to his statement. She’d never been at such a loss for words. Going into this, she hadn’t expected they’d start to have feelings for each other. Now that he’d brought the subject out by speaking on it, she had to confront it.

Kira sat down in the chair. “There are so many problems with this.”

“I know,” he said, sitting across from her. “The number one thing being my father, Charlie Bennett.”

She nodded. “And the obvious thing being…”

“I work here, and like I said before, it’s not good mixing business with pleasure.” Franklin clasped his hands together. “Yes, I get it, and I thought about this all night. I’m glad that I’ll only be in your employ for three months, because I can’t hide my feelings any longer.”

“Yeah, but then you’re leaving.”

Franklin stood. “That decision hasn’t been made.”

Kira sat quietly as her emotions were bouncing from one thing to the next. They were embarking on unknown territory between them. There were too many things that could go wrong.

“Well, I tell you what,” he said. “We can’t leave the inn to go over to Nashville to the new dance club, so I’ll just settle for a dance after everyone’s gone to bed. I can’t promise, however, that I won’t kiss you again.”

Kira stood up, and Franklin stepped closer to her just as Gail burst into the room.

She stopped short just as quickly as she’d entered, looking back and forth between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.” Kira jumped back. “What can I do for you, Gail?” Her body was all hot and bothered. And Gail threw cold water all over her with her presence. It probably was a good thing, though, because a moment later and her cousin would have seen more than them standing close together.

“Gail,” Franklin said, passing her as he walked toward the door.

“Franklin, let’s talk later,” Gail said. “I want to run something by you.”

He nodded and left.

Kira lifted a brow and was tempted to ask Gail what she suddenly wanted with Franklin. But she kept quiet.

“You like him, don’t you?” Gail said, taking the seat closest to the desk.

Kira made sure that her face stayed expressionless. Giving Gail more ammunition for her family was to be avoided at all costs. “I wouldn’t say all that.”

Gail waved her hand. “Okay. Whatever. I know what I see.”

Kira wished she could trust her cousin with her feelings, but Gail had proven to be too wishy-washy. It seemed that the only person she could talk to about her emotions and heart issues was her aunt. But even this time, that was a no-no. Kira sighed. “You wanted something?”

“I wanted to talk to you about last night.”

Kira sat up straight and laced her fingers together. She knew it was coming. “Gail, I hope you’re not coming in here to complain about Franklin again.”

“No, nothing like that. I was just going to say great job.”

It was a shame that Gail had acted so ugly with Kira that she didn’t believe anything she said now. She couldn’t let down that wall or get caught up in some false sisterhood.

“Anyway.” Gail stood. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

Kira watched until her cousin was out of sight before she picked up her pen and went back to the stack of papers she needed to submit to the system.

Dropping the paper on the desk, she couldn’t concentrate, thinking about Franklin and how she must have sounded to him. She was present and loved every second of the sweet moment they shared last night. For her to pretend that it didn’t mean anything must have made him feel rejected.

Leaning back in her chair, she bit the tip of her pen cap as she thought about the things he’d said about the business. She’d been going about making her mark the wrong way. She’d worked at one of the biggest hotel chains in the world. She knew that people loved staying at the Marriott because of the beautiful aesthetics, amenities, and service. She’d have to get with Franklin and come up with a plan to get the Red Rose Inn to Marriott status.

Because her aunt saw firsthand how they transformed the ballroom at the inn, she’d easily be able to convince her to go with the plan. It wouldn’t be taking anything away from what her family started but would make people feel like they were home with those added touches. With those thoughts in mind, she got to work, and once they were finished, the new Red Rose Inn would become a household name.

…

Franklin decided to go and see his parents. It was Sunday, and his mother always made Sunday family dinner. Both his siblings and their kids would be there. He hadn’t seen his nieces and nephews since his return.

Pulling up to his parents’ home, just as he thought, he saw several cars parked in the driveway and on the street. He found an open space and got out.

When he went inside, he was immediately bombarded by children.

“Uncle Franklin!” his younger nieces and nephews screamed.

Franklin picked up the two smaller ones and carried them into the living room, where everyone else was gathered. “Hey, y’all.”

His sister Charlotte got up and hugged him. “I hear you’re doing good over at the inn, Mr. Manager,” she joked.

Franklin stared at his father, who hunched his shoulders. “You must have talked to Hank,” he said, looking to his brother.

“Yep. He said that you and your staff were terrific,” Aaron replied. “He was so proud of that little party. It’s all he’s talking about to anybody who comes into the store.”

Knowing the client was happy was indeed satisfying, but the more Franklin studied his father’s mannerisms and expressions, he wondered what he was thinking.

Franklin went over to him and sat down on the ottoman next to his father’s chair. “Pop, I’ve wanted to call you, but I thought you were still angry about my decision.”

He patted Franklin on the back. “You’re a grown man. I just want you to heed my warning about the Davises.”

“I have. Kira isn’t a threat to me or our family.”

Everyone else suddenly left the room, and his father picked up the newspaper lying beside him on the armrest. “I’ll say it again. They are not who you think they are.”

Franklin wanted to leave the subject alone, but he just had to ask his father a question. “Have you ever met her?”

With the newspaper in front of his face, his father didn’t move. “Don’t have to.”

Feeling as if he was both being ignored and slapped at the same time, Franklin got up to go and talk to the rest of his family.

“Mom,” he shouted as he walked through the dining room to the kitchen. “It smells so good in here.”

He found his mother standing at the stove, stirring a big pot. His sister had just pulled a pan of cornbread out of the oven. Aaron sat at the kitchen table, watching his daughter and their nephew Benji playing a video game.

Franklin kissed his mother’s cheek.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“I’m actually doing well.” He took a seat at the table. “Why did you guys leave the room?” he asked Aaron.

“I didn’t want to be anywhere near you and Pop when y’all start talking about the Davises.”

“I’ve always wondered what really happened,” Charlotte said as she continued to cut the cornbread into squares and place them on a decorative plate. “The talk around town was ridiculous when I was a teen.”

“You’ve never mentioned that to me,” his mother said, putting the lid back on the pot.

“It would be nice if we just heard Pop’s side of the story,” Aaron said. “You know people who gossip have to make the story juicy, so the people they tell it to think they know a lot.”

His mother shushed them all. “Keep your voices down, everybody. Your father has been through enough with that family. I just hate it’s been dragged up again.”

Her forehead wrinkled with concern. But the question that kept looming in Franklin’s mind was if she knew what happened herself. Did his father tell his wife, the woman he vowed to love, honor, and cherish, about Sophia Davis? He knew that it would be a waste of time asking her the question, though, because she would never answer.

“Franklin, wash your hands and set the table for me, please.”

“Aw, Grandma, I thought you said that I could do it,” his young niece whined.

Franklin stood. “Why don’t we do it together?” he said, and a wide grin settled on her little face.

He hoped that one day the mystery of Sophia Davis would be clear. He’d like for everyone to be able to move on with their lives.