Christmas With Her Bodyguard. Charlotte Hawkes
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Joseph swam the length of the pool, then pulled himself up at the shallow end. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling from the exertion. Picking up a towel from the stack on a wooden bench, he dried off before pulling on his shorts and T-shirt. Swimming was the perfect alternative to sitting up watching late-night infomercials.
Joseph walked to the bank of elevators. Living in the penthouse wasn’t a perk but a requisite befitting his lifestyle. He’d grown up privileged, and having the best life had to offer was something for which he never apologized. As a Cole and a member of the purportedly wealthiest African-American family in the country, he accepted everything that went along with the distinction.
Kiara had called him a “spoiled rich boy” and a few other epithets that he would never repeat to anyone, and it was her vicious and spiteful outburst that reminded him why he’d been reluctant to ask her to marry him. It hadn’t been the first time Kiara had gone off on him when she couldn’t get her way, but it was the last time Joseph decided to turn the other cheek. Although laid-back and easygoing, he wasn’t a masochist.
He was certain his parents had had their disagreements, yet he couldn’t remember a time he was privy to them. Joseph shook his head as he stepped out of the elevator car, and walked to his apartment, unlocking the door. He vowed to remain single until he met the woman with whom he felt he wanted to spend his life. After all, he was only thirty and in no immediate hurry to settle down and start a family.
Climbing the staircase to the second level, he stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a hamper, and then stepped into the shower. By the time Joseph got into bed, he had mentally prepared himself to oversee the project he’d been entrusted with. Despite his initial objection to setting up a tea garden, he knew failure was not an option.
* * *
Crystal woke rested and clearheaded. Her appointment with Algernon was scheduled for nine in the hotel restaurant; he’d informed her they would meet with the contractor in downtown Charleston to inspect the interiors of the recently restored properties.
When she first came to see the abandoned buildings, she’d found herself hard-pressed to contain her excitement. Despite the faded, peeling wallpaper, warped floors, weakened window sashes and the pervasive odor of mold, she was able to imagine the beauty and elegance of the renovated spaces. Algernon, or Al, as he insisted she call him, wanted the interior to replicate the furnishings of 1800s Lowcountry city residences.
After brewing a cup of coffee, she unpacked, putting everything away, then stepped into the Jacuzzi for a leisurely soak. The hands on the clock on the bathroom’s vanity had inched closer to eight-fifteen when she stepped out of the tub. At eight forty-five she entered the restaurant off the hotel lobby, the hostess greeting her with a friendly smile.
“Good morning, ma’am. Are you a guest?”
Crystal nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“What is your room number?”
“I’m in penthouse two.”
The hostess punched several keys on a computer. “Ms. Eaton?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “I have an appointment to meet Mr. Beaumont here at nine.”
“Ms. Eaton, I don’t know if anyone told you, but as an elite guest you’ll take your meals in the private dining room. Mr. Beaumont will meet you there.” The young woman motioned to a passing waiter. “Patrick, please escort Ms. Eaton to Mr. Beaumont’s table.”
Crystal followed the waiter to the rear of the restaurant and to a door with a plaque reading Elite Hotel Guests Only. The space was half the size of the restaurant for other hotel guests and the general public, and furnished in the manner of a formal dining room with cloth-covered tables and place settings of china, silver and crystal. Classical music flowed from hidden speakers as waitstaff moved silently, efficiently picking up and setting down dishes.
She thanked the waiter when he pulled out a chair at a table in an alcove, seating her at the same time her cell phone chimed softly. Reaching into her handbag, Crystal retrieved the phone and glanced at the display. It was Algernon. Tapping in her pass code, she answered the call.
“Good morning, Al.”
“Crystal. I’m glad I reached you. I rang your room, but it went directly to voice mail. I’m on my way to the airport to catch a flight to Vancouver. My daughter was injured on a movie set, and even though I’m told it isn’t serious, I need to see her. I’m not certain when I’ll be back, but I’ll keep you updated. I’m sorry you had to come and—”
“Please don’t apologize,” Crystal said, interrupting him. “Take care of your daughter and don’t worry about me. I’ll be here when you get back. The last time I was in Charleston I didn’t get to do much sightseeing, so I intend to tour the city until you return.”
“Thanks, Crystal, for being so understanding.”
“Have a safe flight and I’ll see you when you get back.”
She ended the call, exhaling an audible sigh. Although anxious to see the restored buildings, Crystal also understood an unexpected personal predicament. And taking care of your family always took precedence over everything. There were Eatons living in different parts of the country, but whenever there was a significant occasion, they all came together as one whether it in sickness, tragedy, marriage or a new birth.
She’d attended so many weddings over the years Crystal needed a scorecard to document which first cousin had married whom. It began with Belinda marrying her brother-in-law sports attorney/agent, Griffin Rice. Belinda and Griffin had become guardians of their twin nieces after the death of their parents, who were Belinda’s sister and Griffin’s brother. Belinda made Griffin a biological father for the first time after giving birth to a baby boy.
The marriage bug then bit Belinda’s brother, Myles, when he married his ex-fiancée after a ten-year separation. Myles hadn’t known Zabrina was pregnant with his son, because she’d been blackmailed into marrying another man. They added to another generation of Eatons with a daughter.
Myles and Belinda’s sister Chandra married celebrated playwright Preston Tucker, and they were now the parents of a daughter, and Xavier and his wife, Selena, also had a daughter. All the Eatons were wagering whether Denise and Mia and their husbands would have boys once they decided to increase their family, because it looked as if girls were outnumbering boys in the latest generation of Eatons.
Crystal still did not picture herself a wife or a mother. The closest she’d come to a committed relationship was when she lived with a man after enrolling in graduate school. Her parents disapproved of her living or shacking up with a man, because they claimed they’d raised her better than that.
Jasmine lamented, why would the man want to buy the cow when he could get the milk free? Her comeback was that she didn’t want to be bought, because her goals did not include becoming a wife.
Her relationship with Brian worked well; he also didn’t want to marry or father children. As a child he’d been physically abused by his parents, spent years in foster care and feared he would turn out like them. He and Crystal had lived together for three years before Brian was offered a teaching position at a Los Angeles college. Crystal encouraged him to accept the position, and after graduating