Chapter 4

 

 

 

As he knew she would, Gemma fell asleep on the bed in the guest bedroom right at lunchtime. As he’d done last night, he walked there to watch her rest. Admiring her this way was becoming a habit for him and she gave him plenty of time to do so. She’d slept right up until dinner, and even then he had to wake her up to eat by stroking his fingertips along the side of her face and whispering directly into her ear.

She took a moment to fully wake herself up by washing her face and checking her phone. Then she joined him in the living room.

“Did you bring a jacket?” he asked.

“No. Are we going out?”

“Yes. The restaurant is right around the corner and I thought it would be nice to walk if you’re up for it.”

“Yeah. I can walk.”

“Okay. It’s a lil’ chilly, so…” Royal took off his red and black leather Yves Saint Laurent jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“Ooh…I feel so special,” she said, drowning in his jacket that smelled just like him. Mmm. “Thank you, Royal.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stepped into the flats she’d left by the front door and they started the walk to the restaurant. It couldn’t have been no more than ten minutes and they were already at Summit. Royal pulled out a chair and made sure Gemma was comfortable before he sat down. He told the waitress to bring water, cranberry juice and one order of barbecue shrimp for an appetizer.

“Cranberry juice?” Gemma asked when the waitress walked away.

“In lieu of alcohol. Yes.”

“You can order a drink if you want, Royal. Don’t let me stop you.”

“I’m good.” He took a long look at Gemma. She was looking around, checking out the place since this was her first time here. He felt honored to be the one to introduce her to new things and places.

“Gemma.”

She focused her attention on him. Automatically, a smile came to her face. “Yes?”

“What do you really know about me other than the fact that I’m extremely good looking and work for St. Claire Architects?” Royal asked and had the gall to flash that remarkable smile of his.

She raised a brow. “Extremely good looking, Royal?”

“You disagree?”

“No, but gee…I ain’t calling no name, but somebody is full of their self.”

He chuckled. “I’ve had enough women fall to my feet to know how you women view me.”

“Yeah, like those women over there staring at you right now. I see you got your own fan club. You must be popular around here in Dilworth.”

He shrugged lazily. “Honestly, the worst thing a woman can do to get my attention is stare at me. I hate it.”

She didn’t believe him. “You hate it?”

“Very much so.”

She chuckled. “You’re such a hypocrite, Royal.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t like to be stared at, but I know for a fact you like to stare at people.”

“No, not people. You.”

She ducked her head back, surprised by his blunt admission. “Me?”

“Yes. You.” A smile grew on his face, then he continued, “I’m a troubleshooter by occupation but sometimes, my work filters into my personal life. And since I feel personally responsible for not realizing you were burning up with a fever that day at Ramsey’s house, I feel it’s my duty to ensure your well being, especially when we’re together. That’s why I stare at you so often. It’s my way of learning you. Of picking up on things you won’t say. Like right now, I’ve picked up on the fact that you’re still tired, even though you slept for nearly six hours. Am I right?”

“Yes. I am still a little fatigued, but I’ll live.”

The waitress brought over their drinks and the shrimp then took their dinner orders. Gemma ordered the crusted salmon while Royal went for a more filling dish – the New York strip.

“Thank you, Gemma said to the waitress then opened a straw for her water.

Royal took a sip of water and tossed a shrimp into his mouth. “After three months, what do you know about me, Gemma?”

“Oh, so this is the kind of dinner we’re having. A question-and-answer type thing.”

“No. Just conversation and I want to know how well you know me.”

Gemma cleared her throat, up for the challenge. “Well, I know you’re smart. You love your family. You’re loyal. You’re a laid back kind of guy…you don’t stress over much.”

He nodded. “That’s a good start, but I want you to know more about me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want our friendship to be one of those on-the-surface type situations. Friendships don’t survive where there is no deeper connection. No foundation. I want you to have a connection with me.”

“I do have a connection wit’cho big head.”

He smiled endearingly at her. He was trying to be serious, and he knew she knew that, so in true Gemma fashion, she attempted to keep the conversation light, but he persisted. “It’s not as strong as it could be, Gem. I don’t want you to be friends with me just because my brother is married to your sister. I want you to be friends with me because you want to be—because you value me and vice versa. Because you want to be around me and actually enjoy the time we spend together. We can’t get to that level if we never break the ice.”

“And I suppose being by my bedside for days, feeding me chicken noodle soup by the tablespoon and rubbing your hands across my bald head wasn’t enough ice breaking.”

“You were sick. I was being there for you…making myself available for you, but honestly, Gemma, I didn’t know you. I came to the hospital out of guilt. I was concerned for you, yes, but I also felt guilty. A troubleshooter should always know when trouble is looming, and I failed you.”

“What are you talking about? You didn’t fail me, Royal.”

“Well, I feel like I did.” Royal took a sip of cranberry juice, shaking the ice cubes in the small glass after he did so.

“I was already sick, and you’re not a doctor. Just because you’re a troubleshooter doesn’t mean you’re a superhero who’s supposed to strap on a cape and fly all around Charlotte saving people from tragedy.”

He smirked while picking up another shrimp, reaching across the small, round table, holding it in front of her mouth.

“No, thank you,” Gemma told him.

“C’mom. Taste it.”

“Grr…I hate it when you do that.”

Ignoring her growls, Royal said, “Open up.”

Gemma sighed heavily then opened her mouth and leaned forward to grab the shrimp with her teeth. She chewed and said, “Mmm…that’s good.”

“See. You should be grateful that I make you try new things,” he told her.

She took another shrimp. “So, since I don’t know the deeper things about you, how do I find out those things?”

“Ask me questions,” Royal said. “Go ahead. Anything you want to know.”

“Okay. Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

He chuckled. “I open up the gate for you to ask me anything and you want to know about a girlfriend.”

“Well, yeah. You said it yourself…you’re extremely good looking, yet, no woman.”

“I chose to be single. Next question.”

She chuckled. “No, don’t gloss over that one so fast. Let’s get deeper,” she teased.

Royal leaned back in his chair and stroked his mustache. “Okay. Fine. I don’t have a girlfriend because the women I meet aren’t…genuine. It’s my belief that when you’re looking for someone to share your life with, you should see that person for who they are…not what they dress themselves up to be. I could go out here and pick a woman and peg her as mine, but what would I really have if all she’s concerned with are the superficial things in life?”

“I thought men liked superficial? The prettiest girl gets the best looking man and that’s that.”

“Gemma, just because you’re addicted to romance movies doesn’t make you an expert on love and relationships.”

“Excuse me, but have you seen Just Wright?”

“You just made me watch it two weeks ago.” He chuckled.

“Okay, so you know that Common’s character was feeling Queen Latifah’s character, but he went for her cousin, Paula Patton. Why? Because Paula was prettier. Louder. Made up. Skinny. Fit. She had everything needed to appeal to a man’s eyes. Physical attraction always comes first, at least for men.”

“That’s not one-hundred percent true, and before you tell me all the reasons you’re right, let me say this. Last year, I went to some fancy gala that Ramsey invited me to…something related to architecture…I forget. Anyway, this woman had been eyeing me all night. She was pretty, nice body—she had the looks, but whenever she opened her mouth, a swear word came out. She was cussin’ like a hardcore rapper. From what you know about me, do you think I would find that attractive in a woman?”

“Well, considering I’ve never heard you use a swear word, I’d say no.”

He clapped. “Guess you do know a lil’ something about me.”

The waitress set their entrees on the table then after refilling their glasses with water, she left the table again.

“Now that you’ve piqued my interest, I would like to know more deeper things,” Gemma said.

Royal was cutting his steak. “Okay.”

“Tell me about your last girlfriend. How long were you together and why did you break up?”

He chewed for a moment, then after sipping more cranberry juice, he said, “Oh, that’s an easy one. My last girlfriend was beautiful. She was intelligent. She had an impressive career. She was the complete package. We were together for six months.”

“Why did it end?”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

“Seriously? Sounds like to me you had the perfect woman and all of a sudden, you weren’t feeling it?”

“No, I wasn’t. Call me crazy, but I like a woman who has flaws. Who’s complicated. I don’t seek perfection. I look for strength. Integrity. Loyalty. I like a woman who keeps me on my toes. Who makes me look deep within myself to see what I’m really made of—not a woman who tries to impress me.”

“In other words, you like a chick with issues.”

“If that’s the way you want to put it.” He ate another chunk of his steak after dipping it in A1 sauce. “What about you, Gemma?”

She laughed. “I know you’re not asking me if I’ve ever been in a relationship.”

“I am. And how long did that relationship last?”

“Very funny, Royal.”

“Do you see me laughing?”

She glanced up at him. No, he wasn’t laughing. He was serious again – as serious as he was this morning. Gemma wiped her mouth and said, “I’ve never been in a relationship. There’s your answer.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you think?” she asked. The answer should’ve been obvious. “Who would want to date a sick, bald-headed chick?”

Royal grimaced. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“It’s true. Who would want to date a sick person? Especially somebody sick with cancer? Anyway, no, I haven’t been in a relationship and I don’t plan on ever being in one.”

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

She shrugged. “You did it. You’re perfectly fine and you’re single. At least I have a valid reason for being single.”

“I never said I would write off the chance of finding love. You’re telling me it’s not an option for you.”

Gemma massaged her temples.

“I’m frustrating you,” Royal said.

“It’s cool. I don’t expect you to understand.” Gemma glanced over at Royal’s fan club of women. They were still looking over at the table, catching glimpses of him. “And it’s not so much about me. I know me. I know who I am. I know I have nothing, absolutely nothing of value to add to a relationship, which is also why I’m not thinking about one, but I also know that if by some stroke of lightning chance I was in a relationship, he—whoever he would be—is the one who would be doing the suffering. Can you imagine being in love with someone and taking them back and forth to the doctor, not knowing what will happen to them from one day to the next? I wouldn’t want to put someone through that.”

Yes, I can imagine that. It’s been my life for weeks now, Royal thought.

“But isn’t that a true test of love?”

“Yes, but my point is, why start the test? Why get involved with someone knowing I’ll eventually end up either hurting them or not living up to their expectations. Right now, I’m single. I’m not unnecessarily burdening anyone with my health issues—well, except for Gianna, and hopefully, now that she has Ramsey and the baby coming, she won’t be so stressed out all the time worrying about me. She has her own life now.”

“I see,” Royal said, but it bothered him that she hadn’t once considered he actually cared about her, and even though they weren’t involved, they had grown close. And what did she mean by not wanting to put anyone through the burden of driving her back and forth to the doctor because for the last three months, that was his job and it wasn’t a burden. He wanted to do it. “Earlier, I asked you to think of something you would like to do with your life.”

“Right…um…I couldn’t come up with anything.”

Royal felt a pang at his temples. “Are you telling me you have no passion? No goals?”

“I don’t.”

“That’s absurd.” He wiped his mouth.

“No, it’s not,” she told him. “For the last two years of my life, I’ve been waiting to—to die.” Her voice cracked. “What’s the point of having goals when you know you’re not going to live long enough to fulfill them?” She stood up and excused herself to the bathroom.

“Gemma,” Royal said, turning around in his chair to call after her, but she kept on walking.

He balled a fist and whacked the table because he didn’t want to upset her. All he wanted was to talk candidly, to learn more about her – the inner her and not only the stuff she wanted him to see or the way she presented herself like she was okay. If she wasn’t really okay, he wanted to know her well enough to pick up on that. And he wanted her to have a passion. What was life without passion? Without goals and something to look forward to? Still, he hadn’t intended on upsetting her in the process.

“Sorry about that,” she said, sitting down again after what turned out to be a brief visit to the bathroom.

He was surprised she was back so quickly, and she looked okay from what he could tell. But Gemma, he knew, had the habit of hiding her feelings. “Are you okay?” he asked. He couldn’t see any evidence that she’d been crying. Maybe she just needed to take a break and reset.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, Gemma?”

She worked up a smile. “I’m sure.”

Royal turned his arm to glance at his watch. “Let me get the check so we can head back.”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

At 6:30, it was already dark out. But in a bustling neighborhood like Dilworth where there were plenty of restaurants and bars, the nightlife was electrifying. Sidewalks were filled with people going this way and that way – seemed everybody had their favorite spot. So, they were in good company as they strolled down the well-lit sidewalk back to Royal’s condo.

Royal turned to his right to look at Gemma. She’d been quiet since leaving the restaurant and he knew it had something to do with his line of questioning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” She glanced up at a couple of women in workout gear running toward and on past them. “Royal, why do you want me to have a passion?”

“Everybody needs a passion in life. It’ll motivate you…keep you going. It sounds weird, I know, but solving problems for a living is mine.”

She glanced over and up at him, taking in the silhouette of his face. “At least you know that. What I was trying to tell you in the restaurant was, I never took the time to have a passion because I truly didn’t think I would live long enough to ever be anything. My doctor told me I had two months to live.”

Royal grasped her left hand into his right. “Yet, you’re still here.”

Their eyes met, smiles grew when they looked at each other. They took a few more steps and Royal became hyper-aware of her hand in his grasp. It felt good holding her hand especially since he’d already considered her his. And she wasn’t the least bit nervous. She was just being herself. They were being them.

“When we were talking about relationships earlier, you said you had nothing of value to offer anyone,” Royal said.

“I—”

“Wait, wait, wait—let me finish,” he told her, applying gentle pressure to her hand.

“Okay. Proceed.”

“You have value and plenty of it. You fought cancer and won. Do you know how valuable you are to people who are going through the very thing you went through? You have a message of hope. You are a walking billboard of hope for a lot of people, Gemma, and not just in instances of people going through cancer, but any kind of trial life throws at them, you know.”

Gemma nodded. “You’re right. I never looked at it that way.”

“You really need to. And stop being so hard on yourself. You are an amazing woman.”

Amazing. She grinned a little.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You. You sound like an old man giving me pieces of wisdom and you’re only twenty-five.”

He lazily kicked a pebble along their path and said, “Funny you should say that. Mother says I’m young in the face but she swears I have an old soul.”

“She’s right, although I will say it’s the beard that makes you look older.” And ruggedly handsome.

“I’ve heard that a time or two.”

“So, is your mother right? Do you feel like an old soul?”

“Sometimes.”

They turned the block and were now on his street.

“While you were napping today, I was brainstorming…trying to determine what kinds of activities you might find interesting and I came up with something.”

“Which is…?”

“Becoming a volunteer at the children’s cancer center here…offering hope and support to young victims of cancer.”

“Wow. Volunteering…that’s actually a really good idea.”

“And while you’re doing that, you can also find our first patient for The Gemma Jacobsen Foundation once we get that off the ground.”

Gemma glanced over at him and said, “Stop.”

He smiled. “What?”

“You’re going to make me cry.”

“Don’t do that,” he told her as they headed up the stairs. He wasn’t left-handed by any means, but he wasn’t about to let her hand go to unlock the door, so he used his left hand instead, holding her hand still as they walked inside. “Did you pack your bag already?”

“For the most part. I only have a few more items to put in it.”

“Okay,” he said. He wasn’t ready for her to leave, but he knew he had to take her back home.

“Hey, do you want to let my hand go so I can do that?” she asked, amused.

“You could just stay with me one more night.”

“Oh, please. I know you’ve had enough of me. And, you have to work in the morning and I need to go check on Gianna.”

“Why do you need to check on Gianna? Ramsey got that locked down.”

“Exactly. That’s why I need to check on her.” Gemma grinned. “I’m kidding. I trust Ramsey with my sister. I just miss her and don’t tell her I said that.”

Royal smiled. “I won’t.” He released her hand finally.

“Okay. Let me get my stuff. I’ll be ready in about ten minutes.”

Royal stood there watching her walk down the hall and toward the guest bedroom, thinking of how quickly their time together passed. He didn’t want her to go, but what choice did he have?