Chapter Six

  Dana sprinted into the kitchen behind Asia, who had almost slammed the Mercedes’ door off its hinges. For the twenty-minute drive from St. Elmo’s Valley to the Beaufort’s mansion in Crystal Bay, mother and daughter had argued relentlessly, to the point where Asia had threatened to move out and find a place of her own. The two women stopped short of the island, which was in the center of the kitchen where Miss Rose was about to pull a rack of lamb from the oven. The women argued a little more and then attempted to resume their trek through the kitchen.

  Miss Rose hollered, “Stay put, boss lady! Hot pan comin’!”

  “Where is Gregory?” Dana spat.

  Miss Rose’s eyes darted with suspicion. Earlier, Gregory and his male friend walked past her from the veranda. A short while later they returned wearing shorts and tank tops. Each had a tennis racket, swinging lithely in their hand. She could only assume they had gone on the tennis court to work up a sweat. It seemed as if Gregory was always surrounded by handsome young men and for a while, Miss Rose wondered about that. She could not understand how Gregory could avoid his sexy-looking wife for three years, but saw no problem in giving these men all of his attention. Something wasn’t right about that scene.

  “He went out back with a male friend,” Miss Rose replied craftily. “Never seen this one before…very easy on the eyes.”

  Dana responded hotly, “Tell Gregory to come here now! I need to speak to him about Asia!”

  “I am not speaking to you or my father until I’m allowed to marry Jorge!” Asia tossed a lock of her hair behind her shoulder and then added in a biting tone, “I hate the way you two are always interfering in my life.”

  “Well, you better get used to it,” Dana said. “Because I’m not going to let you destroy your life, chasing after an impoverished dream. After what I saw happen today, I fully agree with your father. Jorge is not the right man for you!”

  Asia spun swiftly to face her mother and said stiffly, “You need to look into the mirror and judge your own mess. I am not the one who has been sleeping in a separate room from my husband for the last three years of my marriage.”

  Dana gasped. She had never heard Asia speak to her with such brazenness. Although what her daughter said was the plain truth, Dana was livid. She swallowed her shock and backhanded Asia across the mouth. Miss Rose’s eyes looked as if they would plop out of her head. While still holding the hot roasting pan, she bent her head and began to mumble the ‘Our Father’ prayer.

  “Are you crazy?” Dana spat. “You don’t get to talk to me that way and get away with it!”

  Miss Rose stopped in the middle of her prayer and jerked her head back up. By the look on Asia’s face, Miss Rose knew the situation was about to hit the roof. She rested the pan on the island and then continued with her prayer.

  The lively banter of Gregory and Izaiah could be heard coming from the direction of the French doors. The way the kitchen was situated – opened toward the grand living room – it provided a clear view of the two men. All three women stood still and watched as the men strutted in, dripping sweat, with smiles plastered across their faces.

  Dana was the first to notice how stimulating the men looked, showing off their strong legs and arms in skimpy clothing. They could pass for father and son, the way their facial structure had been chiseled. They had almost the same pecan complexion, with generously thick brows, lips not too full, but succulent enough to appear kissable. But where Gregory’s hair was white at the temple and was closely shaved to his scalp, the younger man had a little more hair, which was jet black and was brushed into a particular wave pattern. His thinly-shaped beard was connected from one side of his face to the other.

  “Two of my favorite ladies!” Gregory beamed, as he and Izaiah curbed their steps at the entrance of the kitchen. He did not seem to notice the frigidity between his wife and daughter. “Actually, I’m glad you are all here.” He rested a hand on Izaiah’s shoulder and smiled. “I want you all to meet my new tennis partner. The boy is superb. I’ve never sweated so much in all my years playing this sport…Candi is good, but he could easily give her a run for her money.”

  Everyone in the room was sporting a confused look, but for very different reasons. Izaiah, first of all, speculated on why he had been introduced as Gregory’s tennis partner and not as the one to fill the youth minister’s position. As much fun as he’d had making Gregory chase after the tennis ball, he did not like how evasively Gregory was behaving.

  Dana continued to size up Izaiah. He did not appear to be a resident of Bliss Haven, but there was no doubt that Gregory enjoyed the young man’s company. The time that Gregory spent with the boy should be time spent with her. How embarrassing it was to long for the affection of her husband who blatantly showed he didn’t give one pence about her. Gregory hadn’t played tennis with anyone since Candi went to Cayman five months ago, in spite of Dana’s plea to join him on the courts. Now could she be blamed if she loathed her husband for making her feel jealous?

  “…this is my wife, Dana and my lovely daughter, Asia,” Gregory told Izaiah. “Two of the most gorgeous women in the world…well, four, if you add Dallis and Candi.”

  In spite of himself, Izaiah wholeheartedly agreed with Gregory’s comment. Dana and Asia had the type of beauty that caused extreme palpitations, which he was presently experiencing as he stood in their presence. Their smooth, creamy complexion filled his eyes and Izaiah suddenly wondered if Gregory’s two other daughters shared the same perfect genes. With a smile that showed the dimple in his left cheek, he extended his hand to Dana.

  “If your husband hadn’t said you were his wife,” he started, “I would have thought you and your daughter were sisters.” He shared his gaze with Asia, and was immediately smitten by her fierce expression. His heart started skipping beats like crazy. Wow, Gregory. You didn’t prepare me for all this beauty…“Sorry, I meant no disrespect.”

  “None taken,” Asia said dryly. Izaiah had extended his hand to her, but she ignored it, keeping her arms folded. “Would you excuse me? I was on my way to my room.”

  “I hope you will be back in a few minutes to have dinner with us,” Gregory jumped in. “You know how we do it around here when there is a guest in our home.”

  “I’m not into it this evening,” Asia said with her piercing gaze still parked on her mother. “I had a long day and I would like to have some time to myself.”

  “I don’t think so,” Gregory said. “I want you to join us. No excuses.”

  “Daddy, don’t make me do this. I am really in a bad mood right now.”

  Izaiah noticed Gregory stiffen with anger. It was clear that Gregory had no problem chiding his children in front of strangers. But Izaiah did not want to witness such a beautiful girl being embarrassed over such a small matter. For the longest, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her and he soon realized that Gregory was staring at him. Probably observing how affected he was by Asia’s beauty.

  “It’s fine with me,” Izaiah spoke up. “I am a bit tired myself. I would prefer to take a shower and relax in my room.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Gregory said. He smiled within himself, thoroughly pleased with the way Izaiah came to Asia’s defense. Gregory discerned that it wouldn’t be long before Izaiah was head-over-heels in love with his daughter. “I’ll have Miss Rose fix you a plate and take it to the guesthouse.”

  “I insist,” Izaiah said and then grimaced. “I know my entire body is going to be sore in the morning. I haven’t played tennis like that in a while.”

  “Well, if your muscles do act up,” Gregory began with a grin, “I have something for them. Just call the number I gave you. Better yet, I’ll send Miss Rose over with the product.” The men began to walk off, continuing their banter. “Great job, my friend. Your form is really good. I’m looking forward to playing with you again while you are here.”

  That was Asia’s cue to leave. Her thoughts were so captivated with Jorge that Izaiah
’s handsome face had little effect on her. Dana, on the other hand, was in shock over her husband’s behavior. Where has Gregory’s anger gone all of a sudden? Has he become so fond of his new tennis partner that he could change his mood in an instant? Her husband had never done that for anyone. When Gregory was upset, the world would know about it. How strange, Dana thought, that a young man whom Dana had never seen in her life, could have such a strong pull on her husband.

  “What you thinkin’?” Miss Rose probed.

  Dana rested her perplexing stare on the maid and said, “The only thing I want to know is why Gregory brought that boy into this house and didn’t say anything to me. Did Gregory mention anything to you?”

  “Not a word. I was cookin’ when Mr. Beaufort walked by. He hailed, but he did not allow the young man to start any conversation. Don’t know why the boy is here and don’t know why Mr. Beaufort didn’t say somethin’.”

  Dana gritted her teeth. Izaiah appeared to be staying at the estate for what seemed like an indefinite time. That was news to her, as were a lot of things her husband did. Her heart dithered with disappointment. Why did she let Gregory get to her like this? This was always the way that her husband operated. He never included her in his decisions. It was one of the main reasons why they argued so much and it was a sharp reminder that Gregory thought of her as an annoying roommate and not as his wife.

  “I have a headache,” Dana told Miss Rose. She began to sway across the open floor toward her bedroom in her Casadei heels. “I’m going to lie down for a while. Bring me some painkillers and a glass of water. In the morning, I will get to the bottom of this.”

  Take heed and beware of covetousness: for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of the things which he possesses.

  – Luke 12:15

  Chapter Seven

  The name Anwar meant ‘luminous’. How ironic, Anwar thought, that the meaning of his name did not quite mirror his present condition. Though better off than most in St. Elmo’s Valley, his family was financially deprived, which significantly decreased his opportunities of making a better life for himself. His father was a fisherman and his mother was a janitor at Bliss Haven Christian Academy. Their combined incomes were only sufficient to pay for shelter, the utility bills and provide the basic necessities, such as food, water, and clothing.

  Although Anwar was thankful that they had done all they could to keep things going with the little that they had, he did not plan on following in his parents’ footsteps. He could not accept his impoverished state as his destiny. Every day he looked in the mirror and told himself that he would become someone of great influence. A millionaire with luxurious homes and a fleet of expensive cars, parked in custom-built garages. He had big dreams and one day he was going to strut out of St. Elmo’s Valley for the final time.

  Anwar bent to tie the laces on his tennis shoes. It was only seven thirty in the morning, but he had somewhere to go. He had not been kidding with Jorge when he told him that he had a plan that would usher him through the gates of affluence. While he appreciated his partnership with Jorge, diving for conch to make cosmetic jewelry, Anwar was growing weary of it. The amount of money they received did not match the amount of effort that they put into the whole process of producing the product. Too much labor to be disrespected in such a manner.

  It was a proven fact that rich people were revered. Even if they were as ugly as sin, it did not matter. It was because, as the Bible had so eloquently pointed out, ‘money answers all things’. Anwar was well acquainted with that portion of verse, because he had incorporated it as part of his daily mantra – even to the point of writing out the words on paper and sticking it somewhere for him to see. These days, it seemed as if it took money to do everything, especially when fulfilling one’s dream of becoming financially independent. Like the old adage says, it takes money to make money.

  Anwar resolutely decided that that day would mark the end of his days of lack. He snatched a newspaper clipping from his battered bureau and stepped out of his bedroom. The scent of eggs and bacon flew by his nostrils, but it was not enough to deter him from his mission. His mother cooked breakfast every morning before she left for her janitorial job at the academy. Not wanting to be questioned as to why he was leaving the house so early, he tiptoed past the kitchen and eased out through the front door.

  Approximately half an hour later, Anwar stood in front of a building known as the Bliss Haven Swimming Complex – the only one of its kind on the island. He pulled out the newspaper clipping from his back pocket and studied the details of the ad as if it were his first time:

  Fall Swimming Registration

  Term runs from 6 September to 19 December for competitive swimmers. Entry fees are as follows: All swimmers are mandated to wear proper swim gear. Senior competitive swimmers are required to purchase the team suit, along with their own team kit, comprised of fins, pull buoys, paddles, etc. Inquire within for further details.

  Anwar wrinkled his nose in the hot sun, as he brooded over a few obstacles that he needed to overcome. He was already two weeks late for the registration and with it being his first time registering with the swim club, he wondered if he would be accepted. And even if he somehow managed to get his name listed on the roster, there was still the issue of paying the required fees. He only had enough to cover the entry payment. Hopefully, one of the coaches would be lenient with him and discern that he had a lot to offer. Besides that, his only other bargaining chip was his striking features.

  “Good morning. Do you need some help?”

  Anwar spun around at the crisp voice. A young woman, who looked to be about the same age as he was, greeted him with a warm smile. If she was smitten by his looks, Anwar couldn’t tell, because he was too busy focusing on how her complexion glistened in the sun. Her black curls were pushed up into a loose twist. She appeared to be too young and too pretty to be one of the coaches, but Anwar asked anyway, for lack of something better to say.

  “No, I’m not one of the coaches.” She laughed. “I help out sometimes, but I am just a swimmer, trying to make it into the big leagues.”

  Anwar drank in the sexy build of her body, and tried not to come off as sleazy in his assessment. “By the way that you seem to look after yourself, I would have guessed that you are a swimmer,” he told her. He extended his hand to see what it would feel like to touch her. “You’re very pretty by the way…I’m Anwar Daxon.”

  The young woman gripped Anwar’s hand firmly, appearing not to be flattered by Anwar’s comment. “Nice to meet you, Anwar Daxon. I’m Dallis Beaufort.”

  Anwar stared at Dallis, clearly astonished. “As in Bishop Beaufort’s daughter?”

  “Yep. The one and only. Why do you seem so surprised?”

  Anwar should have known. Asia and Dallis shared similar facial attributes and that smooth creamy complexion. Striking onyx-colored eyes. Mentally, Anwar patted himself on the back, because he knew he was in the presence of one of the wealthiest girls in Bliss Haven. Totally serendipitous. However, Anwar was more taken aback by the fact that Dallis had chosen to become an athlete rather than a supermodel. Why that had shocked him? He couldn’t say for sure. He had always assumed that rich girls like Asia were superficial, and didn’t take well to much strenuous labor.

  “I’m impressed,” Anwar finally said. “You don’t seem stuffy at all.”

  That description, irrespective of whether it was intended to be funny, caused Dallis to toss her head back and laughed appreciatively. “You are a comedian, aren’t you?”

  With a lopsided grin, Anwar kept his hazel eyes locked on Dallis. He loved the way she took to him so quickly. It made him wonder if she would need a boyfriend to keep that toothy smile on her face.

  “So…” Dallis said, now becoming aware of Anwar’s staring, “I assume you’re here for all of the obvious reasons.”

  “You mean there is more than one reason for being at a swim club?”

  Dallis laughed again. “Of course,” she said m
atter-of-factly. “You are either here as a participant or a spectator. A national competition is scheduled to be held here in a few days. Top swimmers are coming in from the outer islands to compete against us in Bliss Haven. That’s why I’m here early. I need to get into the pool and prepare.”

  “So, you will be competing?”

  “Yes and I’m very excited. The atmosphere of the races is usually very intense.”

  “Well, since you have put things into perspective,” Anwar said, “then I’m here both as a participant and a spectator.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really,” Anwar quipped. “I want to join the swim club, and I also want to watch you perform. What do I need to do to get in?”

  Dallis looked over Anwar’s shoulders and noticed her coach’s Tahoe, rolling up the pebble stone path. She gave Anwar one of those reprimanding looks that would have been serious had she thought that Anwar’s personality didn’t make the cut. The fact that he was also drop dead gorgeous gave her another reason to sell his story to her coach.

  “You do realize that you are already two weeks late for registration, right?” she said to him. “My coach can be moody sometimes.”

  “I’m sorry; I just stumbled over the ad yesterday.”

  “Don’t apologize to me,” Dallis said. “It’s coach that you need to convince. How good are you, anyway?”

  Anwar cracked his sexiest smile. At this point in the game, he was depending heavily on his charming skills. “Well,” he said smoothly. “Put me into the water and you will find out.”

  “You are a little arrogant,” Dallis shot at him. “But if you are as good as your talk, then maybe I can work something out. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

  Wow, a woman with a little influence, Anwar said within himself. Just exactly what I need. He kept his grin in check until Dallis was at a safe distance. He then turned aside and furtively raised his fists in victory. Who would have imagined that the first person he would meet at the swim club would be Asia’s sister? Jorge would never believe his good fortune. Jorge was not the only one who could swipe a rich chick and then live to tell the story. So, this is what fate feels like. I’ve made up my mind to change the course of my life and now the entire universe stands in agreement with me.