frowned. “What?”
“I mean, I decided to walk today and literally walked right into it. Awful.” She shook her head at the memory. “It looked like the whole block was going to go up in flames.” A little shiver went through her as the image of the man of her dreams invaded her senses.
“It’s been on all the news channels, but it looks like they finally got it under control.”
“Thank goodness. I hope no one got hurt.”
“Yeah.” He came around to the side of her desk. “Here are the bills for last month’s shipments.”
“Just leave them. I’ll take care of it.” The Delta Air Lines home page filled her computer screen.
Mike dropped the folders on her desk and spied the page. “Vacation?”
“Not really. I need to get home in a hurry.”
“Everything cool?”
“It’s my grandmother.” She keyed in her information. “I was planning on driving down this weekend, but my mom called just a little while ago and she sounded…” Her fingers flew across the keys. She sniffed, pulled open her desk drawer to get her purse. She took out her wallet and flipped through the compartments for her Visa card, keyed in the numbers and waited.
“I think it’s best that I don’t wait.” She swallowed the knot in her throat.
“Hey, do what you have to do. Family first. I got this. Don’t worry about it.”
Zoe forced a smile. “Thanks.”
The screen flashed her confirmation number and the button to print her itinerary and boarding pass. She pressed Print.
Mike placed a large comforting hand on her shoulder. She tilted her head toward him and blinked back the tears burning in her eyes.
“Need a lift to the airport?”
“No. My flight is at 6:00 a.m. I wouldn’t do that to anyone,” she said, only half joking.
“It’s not a problem.” He stepped back. “Just let me know.”
She bobbed her head. “Thanks.”
Mike strolled out.
Mike really was a great guy. He was intelligent, hard working, fun, sexy. He definitely had it all. She sighed. But even with all that she couldn’t take her mind off of what had happened to her less than an hour earlier. The impression of him, his scent, the look in his eyes, the arch of his cheekbones, the curve of his bottom lip.
Her heart raced as the image of her night stalker come to life replayed in her mind. Yet her pulse didn’t race with fear or trepidation, but rather with anticipation and curiosity. Who was he really and why did he have that kind of effect on her? Was he really the man of her dreams? She logged off of the Delta site and laughed lightly to herself. There you go being ridiculous. If that were true, then it meant that she really was buying into all that foolishness that her mother, aunts and grandmother had been saying for as long as she could remember. Ridiculous.
Her grandmother. Nana Zora was the thread that held the fabric of her family together. She couldn’t imagine her family without Nana Zora. Growing up, Nana had been more of a mother to her than her own mother, Miraya, had ever been. Her mother was an aspiring singer and spent most of Zoe’s youth and young adulthood traveling the country, moving from one nightclub or lounge to the other. One disappointment too many and a cigarette short of losing her voice altogether, Miraya returned to her hometown of New Orleans and tried to put her life back together and bond with a daughter she barely knew.
It was Nana Zora who encouraged Zoe to pursue her love of the arts, which she insisted Zoe had inherited from her mother. Zoe believed differently. It was her Nana who nurtured her passion for art and painting and her interest in history and other cultures. By the time Miraya Beaumont returned to New Orleans, Zoe had traveled and studied and mapped out her future—without the help or guidance of her mother. It took time and a lot of patience, forgiveness and a lot of coaxing from Nana but they’d finally found their way to each other.
It was also her grandmother who firmly believed in the legacy of the Beaumont women. As much as she didn’t want to buy into the old wives’ tale and family lore, everything that her grandmother, her mother and her aunts had said was slowly coming to pass.
She picked up the phone to call Sharlene and let her know about her change of plans and wondered what her grandmother would say about the inexplicable events that had made their way into her life.
“Tomorrow morning?”
“I don’t want to wait until the weekend. My mother sounded scared and she never sounds scared.”
“Let me rearranged my schedule. Give me your flight number and I’ll book my ticket as well.”
“Sharl, that’s too much. You don’t have to—”
“I know that. I want to. She’s my Nana, too. And you’re my sister. I’ll call you back in a few.”
Zoe squeezed the receiver in her hand and briefly shut her eyes. She wouldn’t admit to Sharlene just how much she needed her. She didn’t have to. Sharlene already knew.
Chapter 4
Jackson shut the door of his Explorer and walked across the parking lot of Clark-Atlanta University. The acrid scent of smoke still lingered in his nostrils and the image of the woman in his mind. When he’d literally stumbled upon her he couldn’t believe it at first. He was certain she was the same woman he’d spotted the other day. He could kick himself for leaving her even for a second before he found out who she was.
He cut across the lot and entered the campus grounds, followed the path to the humanities building and tugged open the ornate wood door.
“Mornin’ Professor Treme,” said a young man in a freshly pressed white shirt with an armload of books.
“Have a productive day, Mahlik,” Jackson offered before turning the corner toward his office. His first class wasn’t for another twenty minutes. “Hey, Jackson!”
Jackson glanced over his shoulder. It was his colleague Levi Fortune hurrying toward him.
“I wanted to talk with you about something,” he said, coming to a stop alongside Jackson.
“Levi, if it’s about taking over one of your classes again, the answer is no.” He stuck the key into the lock of his office door.
“Aw, come on man. Just one more time. I’ve got to put the finishing touches on my dissertation. I have to defend it in three weeks.”
“You should have taken a sabbatical.” Jackson shook his head in a combination of dismay and annoyance. He could only imagine the stress that Levi was under trying to teach three classes and get his second doctorate degree. The man was no dummy, but he was going to kill himself in the process. Jackson turned to him and grinned.
“Okay. You know I will.” He pushed open the office door. “Take a load off.” Jackson walked
