Chapter 3
Carol raced to Marlon’s limo, still idling nearby. “Is Alex still working for you?” she asked as soon as the door was opened.
Marlon nodded.
“That’s why we’re waiting,” Mr. T. informed her.
“He’s been shot. I saw him on a stretcher.”
A round of expletives spewed from the men’s mouths. “Call him,” Marlon commanded. “Find out where he is.”
“There’s our limo,” Brandi said, pointing toward a white stretch coming down the street.
No one responded. Everyone watched as Mr. T. placed the call.
“Where is he?” Carol demanded after the call ended. Mr. T. told her. “Let’s go,” she said to the twins as she scrambled out of the borrowed jacket.
Brianna gave back the coat she was wearing. “What about my coat? It’s still in the club.”
“We’ll get them tomorrow! Come on!”
Brandi shifted to become even closer to her newfound man. “You go on without us. Brianna and I have our ride home.”
Carol didn’t have time to argue. She was on a mission. As soon as she entered the limo they’d rented, she said, “Take me to Grace Hospital. Get me there as fast as you can!”
They arrived at the hospital and because she was not a relative, Carol could get no news. Shortly after her arrival, one of Marlon’s other bodyguards came in. Together they waited for what seemed like hours, with snatches of small talk passing between them. Among other things she learned his name was Eric, that he was from Plainfield, New Jersey, that he’d worked for Marlon for about two years, and that he and Alex had become good friends. Finally, after Eric went to the nurse’s station for a meaningful heart-to-heart, they were given Alex’s room number and allowed to go back there.
“What’s up, man?” Eric’s deep voice bounced against the pale green walls as he entered the room. “Is this how you get out of working detail?”
“There are probably better ways,” Alex responded, his voice low but strong. “Guess you can say I earned my . . .” He looked beyond Eric, saw Carol, and lost his train of thought.
Carol stepped forward. “Hey, Alex.”
“Hey.” His stare was intense and unreadable.
“Was it you that—”
“Yes,” he quickly interrupted, his eyes briefly darting to Eric and back. “It was.”
“Thank you.”
Eric looked between the two as electricity sparked between their stares. “Carol said you two had worked together.”
Alex nodded. “When I guarded Gabriella.”
“Word?” His gaze slid from Alex to Carol. “You didn’t tell me you’d worked with a superstar.”
“Carol’s a star in her own right. Back in the day, she was a member of Haute Couture. Before Gabriella went solo.” He tried to change positions and winced.
“Careful,” Carol said, reacting immediately by going to Alex’s side and placing a comforting hand on his arm. Speaking tentatively, she asked him, “Where were you shot?”
“In my side,” he replied, having donned a brave face. “No worries. It didn’t hit any major organs; a flesh wound mostly.”
“A flesh wound can bring hella pain, brother. I’ve been there. I know. That shit can hurt.”
Alex wasn’t paying attention to his friend and colleague. He only had eyes, and it would appear ears, for the woman in the room. “Yo, Eric. Can you give us a minute?”
“Sure, man. But first, are you feeling okay? Marlon will want an update.”
“Yes, I’m cool. Tell him I’ll call a little later.” He waited until Eric left the room. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Carol looked at his bandage. “Sore eyes, or a sore side?”
Alex blessed her with a grin. She took in his smooth, brown complexion and how his chocolate eyes twinkled when he smiled. His lips were cushy, and just the right size; all in a face that exuded strength and confidence, like he could take care of a sistah in more ways than one. White gauze was wrapped around a thick, toned torso, and he’d obviously taken issue with the hospital gown, which was hanging off of the type of shoulders on which a woman could get used to leaning.
“Back there, at the club . . . you looked surprised to see me.”
“I was.” Carol gingerly sat at the edge of his bed. “I didn’t know that you were still working with Marlon.”
“Would you have still come if you’d known?”
Carol’s smile was fleeting. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
“Troy and I have settled the beef between us. Why can’t you let it go?”
“I guess I should.”
“You most definitely should.”
Both were quiet a moment, remembering how they’d come together and equally how they’d parted. It started when Gabriella, the woman who’d bested Beyoncé, Rihanna, and all other singers for the pop-star crown, hired a new security team for the West Coast portion of her music tour. Carol had been traveling with Gabriella as her best friend and personal assistant. Alex worked with Troy, the owner of Morgan Security, the company that won the bid. Interactions had gone smoothly at first. There was an immediate attraction between them, and Alex and Carol enjoyed the camaraderie for the first few weeks. But a dispute with his boss had led Alex to abruptly quit Troy’s company and guard Marlon instead of Gabriella. The pop star seemed to not have cared in the least, but for the fiercely loyal Carol, his hasty exit was viewed not only as inconsiderate but borderline disrespectful. That she found out about his leaving from a phone call after the fact hadn’t helped matters either. Last year, at Gabriella’s wedding, they’d somewhat reconnected. But the myriad of conflicting emotions that Carol now felt suggested that forgiving wasn’t forgetting and a tinge of hurt remained.
Alex broke the silence. “Glad to be home for the holidays?”
“This is where I live.” At his questioning look, Carol realized Alex wasn’t privy to her latest decisions. “I quit the business, Alex.”
“You quit working for Gabriella?”
Carol totally got the insinuation. “Yes, but not abruptly. Gab knew months in advance that I was going to leave, and I took two months to train my replacement.”
“Wow, that’s your girl. I never would have thought you’d leave the road.” A moment, and then, “What happened?”
“Her life changed when she got married. She and Troy have settled in LA while she makes a movie. She’ll also be in the studio working on her next album. So it was a good time for me to take a break and focus on what I want to do with my life.”
“Which is?”
Carol answered through a yawn, “I’m still figuring it out.”
“I really appreciate your coming to check on me. But it’s late. You should go.”
“Probably.” Carol’s eyes widened as she looked at her watch. She had no idea that it was almost dawn.
“How’d you get here?”
“I got dropped off. I’ll call a cab.”
“Eric can give you a ride home.”
“I’d rather he stay here with you.”
“The way you say that, a brothah could start feeling that you care about him.”
She smiled as she stood. “I’m glad that you’re all right, Alex. Good-bye.” She walked toward the door.
“Your number still the same?”
Turning, she answered, “Yes, why?”
“Because I plan to hollah at you, that’s why. Is that all right, or will I have to knock out some knucklehead who’s dared invade my space?”
“Your space?”
“You heard me.” Alex was clearly enjoying this sparring, even as his own medicated eyelids drooped. “I didn’t stutter.”
Carol would have argued but noticed him fading. “Yes, it’s the same.” She walked out the door.
“Carol!”
She stuck her head back into the room. “What?”
“Merry Christmas.”
Impulsively, she walked over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Alex. Merry Christmas.”
Alex watched the gentle sway of Carol’s beautifully round booty as she left the room. Only then did his head drop back on the pillow and with a grimace masquerading as a smile on his face . . . thought about his former co-worker until he fell asleep.