Rochelle Alers - Always an Eaton

She went back to the task of researching schools. All she had to do was update her résumé and submit the applications online. Flicking on the desk lamp, she scrolled through her old e-mails until she found the one from Preston, her fingers racing over the keys:

Hi Preston,

I’m available to meet with you Friday. Please call or e-mail to confirm.—CE

She didn’t have to wait for a response when his AIM popped up on the upper left corner of the screen.

PJT: Hi CE. Friday is good with me. What time should I pick you up?

CE: You don’t have to pick me up. I’ll take a taxi to your place.

PJT: No, CE. You tend to lose things in taxis.

CE: You didn’t have to go there.

PJT: Sorry.

CE: Apology accepted.

PJT: Will call tomorrow to let you know when driver will pick you up.

CE: O.K. I’ll see you Friday. Meanwhile, think of a name for your vampire.

PJT: He’s not my vampire, but yours. So, you do the honor.

CE: O.K. Good night.

PJT: Good night.

Chandra logged off. She mentally checked off what she had to do before meeting with Preston. She still had to unpack, call her sister Belinda and update her résumé. During lunch she’d called the salon and was given an appointment for Thursday at eleven. The Eatons had planned a get-together at Belinda and Griffin’s for Saturday to celebrate Sabrina’s and Layla’s thirteenth birthday. She wasn’t certain what her nieces wanted or needed, but decided to give them gift cards. Then, there was her ten-year-old nephew whom she would meet for the first time. Aunt Chandra would have to buy him something, too.

* * *

Chandra waited for the driver to come around and open the rear door for her. As promised, Preston had arranged for a driver to bring her to his apartment building. He’d also arranged for them to have brunch.

She gave the doorman her name and three minutes later she came face-to-face with Preston Tucker for the second time when the doors to the elevator opened.

Preston stared, completely surprised. He almost didn’t recognize Chandra. She’d changed her hair. The braid was gone, replaced by a sleek style that framed her face and floated over her shoulders. It made her look older, more sophisticated.

“You look very nice.”

Chandra couldn’t stop the pinpoints of heat pricking her face. She’d lightly applied a little makeup and changed outfits twice before deciding on a tailored charcoal-gray pantsuit, white silk blouse and black patent leather pumps.

“Thank you.”

Preston not only looked good, she thought, but he also smelled good. He wore a pair of black slacks and matching shirt and the stubble on his chin gave him a slightly roguish look. He’d admitted to being dark and brooding and his somber attire affirmed that. She didn’t have to go very far to find the inspiration for her vampire. Preston Tucker was the perfect character.

“Have you come up with a name for your vampire?” Preston asked as he led Chandra down the hallway and into his apartment.

“I have,” she admitted.

He closed the door and turned to stare at her. “What is it?”

“Pascual.”

Preston angled his head. “Pascual or Paschal?”

“Pascual. It’s Spanish and Hebrew for Passover. The name is somewhat exotic and implies that he’s passed through a portal from another world to ours.”

“If the setting is New Orleans, shouldn’t you give him a French name?”

Chandra drew in a breath, held it and then let it out slowly. They hadn’t even begun to work together and already he was questioning her. “I thought you said Pascual is my vampire.”

“He is, Chandra.”

“Then, please let me develop him the way I want, Preston. And that includes giving him a name that’s Spanish. Remember, France lost control of New Orleans to Spain, then regained it before it was sold to the U.S.”

Preston looked sheepish. “Unfortunately, history and languages weren’t my best subjects.”

“I have you at a disadvantage because my sister teaches American history to high school students.”

“What do you teach?”

“How do you know I’m a teacher?”

Reaching for her hand, he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Today you look and sound like a teacher. Besides, you didn’t deny it. By the way, are you on sabbatical or are you playing hooky?”

Chandra’s lips twitched as she tried not to smile. She knew she had to remain alert with Preston. He probably processed everything she said within seconds. “I’m in between jobs.”

“Come with me to the kitchen. We can talk while I cook.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You write, direct and cook. I’m impressed. What other talents are you hiding?”

Throwing back his head, Preston let loose genuine laughter. He’d found Chandra Eaton cute and very talented. What he hadn’t counted on was that she could make him laugh.

“I don’t know. You’ll have to tell me.”

“Maybe I should ask your girlfriend.”

Preston’s expression changed suddenly. He glared at her under hooded lids. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“What about a wife?” Chandra asked. Denise had said Preston was a bachelor, but she needed him to confirm his marital status.

“I also don’t have a wife.”

“Is it because you’re not romantic?” Chandra asked, knowing she was treading into dangerous territory. She really didn’t want to know any more about Preston than what Denise had told her. Whatever she would share with him was to be strictly business.

“Not being romantic has nothing to do with whether I’m married or involved with a woman.”

“Are you a misogynist?”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t look so put out, Preston. I’ve read about a lot of high-profile men who date women, but detest them behind closed doors.”

“Well, I’m not one of those down-low brothers.” He hadn’t lied to Chandra. It had taken many years and countless therapy sessions for him to let go of the enmity between he and his father. “Women should be loved and protected, not physically or emotionally abused.”

“Spoken like a true romantic hero.”

“Give it up, Chandra. It’s not going to work.”

“What’s not going to work?”

“You’re not going to turn me into a romantic hero.”

She wrinkled her nose in a gesture Preston had come to appreciate. “You think not, Preston?”

“I know not, Chandra.”

“We’ll see,” she drawled.

His eyes narrowed. “What are you hatching in that very cute head of yours?”

Chandra ignored his referring to her being cute. “Wait until I develop Pascual’s character and you’re forced to breathe life into what will become a vampire who’s not only sexy but very romantic. You’ll be the one who has to come up with the dialogue whenever he interacts with his romantic lead.”

“We’ll see,” Preston said.

“Have you thought of a name for your new play?”

Taking a step, he dropped Chandra’s hand, pulling her to his chest. Lowering his head and fastening his mouth to the column of her scented neck, Preston pressed a kiss there. He increased the pressure, baring his teeth and stopping short of nipping the delicate flesh.

“Death’s Kiss,” he whispered in her ear.

Chandra turned her head, her mouth inches from Preston’s, breathing in his warm, moist breath. “You can’t kill your heroine, Preston.” Her gaze caressed the outline of his mouth seconds before he kissed her cheek.

“We’ll see, won’t we?” he said, smiling.

“What would I have to do to convince you to include a happy ending?”

“I’ll think of something.”

Bracing her hands against Preston’s chest, Chandra sought to put some distance between them. “I don’t like the sound of that.”