A Holiday Romance Read online

  Copyright 2012 by Bobbie Jordan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced in any form or by any means including, scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without the expressed written consent or permission of the copyright holder. You cannot sell, share or distribute this book. It is for your personal use only.

  A Fairy Tale Christmas

  Waiting had never been her thing. Although she pretended to be kind and patient, she just wasn’t. She often told people “I used to be a type “A” personality. Now I’m an “A minus.” In truth, she was still every bit a type “A,” she had just learned to disguise it better.

  It was her personality that had allowed her business “Charles Consulting” to be one of the top consulting firms in Atlanta. At thirty-one years old, she was one of the industries few women CEO’s under forty and the only black female CEO in the business. Latisse Charles had named her company using her last name. She thought correctly the masculine association would help her gain an edge. It did. She thought her first name, Latisse sounded too much like she came from the ghetto (the projects), but it was her name and she bore it proudly. No one who had ever dealt with her every associated her with anything other than intelligence, style and driven passion.

  If she was such a woman in control, what was she doing here, stuck in a damn plane at Dulles airport? It was two days before Christmas and she was on her way to a “meet and greet.” It was an important “meet and greet” to be sure, but right before Christmas? She had immersed herself in work three months ago, after the break up with Darryl, that ball playing looser, who was having a baby with some cheerleader. She didn’t need him anyway. She was looking forward to some “me” time Christmas week. She had promised herself a great Christmas this year. She had booked five days at the Napa Inn in California. Five exquisite days being pampered, drinking great wines and stepping out in the Napa Valley. Who cared about a cheating athlete, she was Latisse Charles and didn’t need anyone.

  She had tried to postpone this meeting, but the personal assistant to the personal assistant to the guy insisted. The guy’s name was actually Guy, which was kind of funny, Guy Blanchard. He was a lobbyist for a renewable energy group based in Chicago. His people had said that he had to do this tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, it was his only window.

  Latisse had tried to Google him but didn’t find anything about this guy or Guy, but she could picture him in her mind. He was older and a little over weight. He wore a tweed suit with a vest and a bow tie. He had thinning white hair that he kept longer in the front thinking it gave him a “rakish” look. It didn’t. He had way too much money at his disposal and when he met her, finding a young, attractive, black female, he would wink and make inappropriate comments before she’d set him straight. Then they could get on with business and she could get to Napa.

  Not sure what the holdup was at Dulles, Latisse pulled out her iPad and started browsing as a man sat in the seat next to her. What an improvement this guy was to the crying child and mother she’d endured from Atlanta here. She liked kids, but not that one. She was so happy when they disembarked in Washington.

  This man was buffed in a rugged way that suggested both the gym and genetics. His hair was cut, not styled, a little longer than convention but perfect for the chiseled facial features. He wore a shirt and tie, opened at the neck, with a well-worn corduroy sport coat, Tight fitting expensive jeans and loafers completed the jock collegiate grown up outfit. Wow! She started to let her imagination get the best of her.

  When he sat next to her she actually smiled, he smelled good. Just enough scent to finish the picture and complete the look. “If only he was straight,” Latisse thought, “and maybe black. Oh well, you can’t have everything.”

  Despite the confident relaxed aura the man portrayed, there was a quick, cat like quality to his movements. Latisse noticed he carried a newspaper and an old briefcase with a Republican Party sticker stuck onto it. “Oh boy, this will be fun” she thought dryly.

  For the first half hour the two mutually ignored each other, aside from a quick smile or a nod. He was settling in and she was getting irritated. It wasn’t snowing; there hadn’t been any announcements, just the dreadful waiting. What were they waiting for?

  “Did you eat?” was the first thing he said to her. “What?” she said. He could have been talking Swahili. “I’m hungry; I just asked if you ate? Are you hungry too?” It took her by surprise, this gesture of concern from a man she’d just met. Well, hadn’t even really met yet.

  “No, I had something in Atlanta before I left thanks.”

  “Oh, you’re from Atlanta then, or were just there on business?”

  Latisse first thought he was being a little pushy and nosey but realized he was just making conversation since they were trapped next to each other for the foreseeable future. And she felt comfortable with this man, not attracted necessarily, but comfortable, and he did smell so good.

  Suddenly she was chatting away to this stranger like she had known him her whole life. She told him her name, and where she was born. She told him about her childhood, father doctor, and mother nurse. She told him about her company and how from the humble beginnings of a smart and beautiful cheer leader, honor student, beauty contest winner, she overcame those obstacles and ran a private consulting firm that was respected and in demand.

  She told him about her planned trip to Napa, as soon as her business was complete, hopefully tomorrow in time for Christmas.

  When she stopped to take a breath she said “wow, what I meant was I’m from Atlanta.” And there was a pause. Then they both started giggling at the same time.

  “That was awesome,” he said through laughter. “Hey, let’s get a drink as long as we’re waiting, okay?” She smiled and simply nodded “okay.” They continued to drink and talk while waiting in the hot plane. Latisse noticed there was no air on while on the tarmac. The combination of the alcohol, warm plane interior and that soft scent of his cologne relaxed Latisse. She found herself talking away, and enjoying the time trapped on the plane with this handsome, articulate and funny man.

  Are you going to Chicago for business or pleasure?” He asked.

  All business,” she retorted. “I am going to meet a prospective client. I talked to his people, I have no people,” she smiled, “and his people said it had to be now so here I am. I am stuck on the plane in D.C. with some guy off the street. How’s that for luck?”

  “Lucky for me, I’d say” the man retorted with a big smile.

  And just then there was an announcement over the intercom.

  “Blah blah airlines thank you for flying, due to blah blah blah this flight is unable to continue. You will all be given accommodations, a meal pass and be booked on the next available seating to your final destination. Blah blah blah thanks you again and blah blah. Happy Holidays- Fly blah blah again.”

  “What did she say?” asked Latisse. “That can’t be. I want to be in California tomorrow, not just getting to Chicago.”

  “Call the guy, her new friend said, “He will understand.”

  “No, definitely not. You know how anal these SOB’s can be, I want this job. I’ll make it work.”

  “Then at least let me take you to dinner, okay? It’s the least I can do.”

  “What a sweet gesture” thought Latisse. “Sure, okay, but how?”

  “I’ll meet you in the bar of whatever place they book us; I assume it’ll be the same place for both, at eight. How does that sound?”

  Again, she just smiled and nodded. Well at least something to look forward to. She checked her watch and it was barely five. She had a lot to do before eight.

  He reached over to shake her hand, as if to seal the deal. Perhaps it was the drinks or the h
eat, but his hand touching hers sent an electric vibration into her shoulder. She actually shuddered a bit, imperceptibly, before withdrawing her hand.

  Normally possessed by aloof self-control, Latisse felt oddly anxious getting ready for her “date.” It wasn’t really a “date,” she was just having dinner with some guy she had met on the plane. Was it a “date?” Well, not just “some guy” really, a handsome, strong, kind, good smelling guy. Hmmm, he is white. She never dated a white guy before and quite frankly never thought about dating a white man. But, she did watch enough of white movies and TV to know how ‘they’ acted and thought. I wander why he doesn’t have any issues with me?” she contemplated.

  “Oh, my God, do I have a ‘Cinderella Complex’ deep down inside?” she wondered. Could I secretly want to fulfill a fairy tale dream of being kissed by a white prince? Girl, get a grip! It’s only dinner,” she admonished. Or was it something more? And come to think of it, she hadn’t actually “met” him; she didn’t even know his name. It was so unlike her to be jumping at spending time stranded in a strange city, with a stranger.

  But it just felt right. He was white, and a Republican for crying out loud, but as she got ready, it was like she was fifteen, going out for the first time.

  Luckily, the international airport at Dulles offered a complete shopping experience for the traveler, duty free! She wasn’t able to retrieve her luggage from wherever it was at the moment, and she sure didn’t want to go to dinner in the clothes she had been wearing all day.

  On the way to register at the Hyatt, where the airlines had booked her for the night, a few quick stops and a credit card solved that problem. There wasn’t any word on the next flight out yet and on top of everything, it had begun to snow. It was almost Christmas, so a little snow added to the excitement of the day and her dinner date.

  In keeping with her type “A” persona, at five minutes to eight she was sitting at the Hyatt lounge at the bar. She was showered, coifed, wearing a not too cheap cocktail dress that fit her too well and new heels. The dress had a sage green, tight fitting bodice and a little tulle skirt that was a little short. The green color complemented her chestnut skin tones and her short-cropped, almost raven hair. The fitted bodice complimented her ample chest and she thought the little tulle skirt disguised a little of her butt. It was her toned, athletic legs wearing nude hose, supported by the little black 4” heels that set the entire outfit off.

  Although her preparation had been hurried, she still felt that undercurrent of almost anxiety. She also felt adequate. She felt more than adequate, she felt pretty. She had the momentary mental image of being a black Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman,” sitting at the bar waiting for Richard Gere. Only she wasn’t a hooker on a “date,” she was simply meeting a friend for dinner. Well almost a friend, really.

  As the minutes ticked by, she never once considered he would stand her up. She never had the thought. But by five past eight, she began to think she had misunderstood the arrangement. At ten minutes after eight, she ordered a glass of Merlot. Maybe he had had second thoughts. Maybe his tweed suit was all he had and he was uncomfortable without a change of clothes. Maybe he had been placed in another hotel and was waiting for her at another bar in another hotel.

  All these thoughts swarmed at once through her head as an electric shock coursed from her elbow to her chest. He had walked up and gently touched her arm as she was lost in thought. He started to apologize.

  “So sorry I’m late, he started, had emergency business to take care of. My God, you look beautiful!” he said getting a good look at her. “Stunning! Is this all for me?”

  Latisse blushed, and felt her heart pounding with relief, and pleasure at the sight of him. He was wearing a very well-tailored Navy blue suit. The blue in his tie had flecks that picked up the blue in his eyes. The overcoat casually slung over his arm wasn’t the cheaper model, but the soft cashmere of aristocracy. He wore very little jewelry and nothing ostentatious.

  She noted with relief he wasn’t wearing a wedding band, and there was no telltale sign of pale skin suggesting there had been one recently. That caught her by surprise. After all she had just met this guy, it was just dinner for crying out loud, why did she care if he was married or not? She managed to reply “nah, I get all dolled up for every Tom, Dick and Harry I meet.”

  Her mouth had suddenly become quite dry, as she picked up her wineglass to sip; her cell phone rang from inside her small clutch bag. She fumbled briefly to liberate the tiny computer from the purse mumbling “who,” and “at this hour.” She saw the caller ID and looked up at her dinner partner. “I gotta take this, it’s the SOB,” and winked with a smile as she answered the call very professionally.

  She turned to him with a perplexed look on her face. “That was “his people.” Something’s apparently come up and the meeting has been postponed until after next week. The day after my Napa trip, how’s that for good timing? Now I have no stress, I can probably fly right out of here to California.”

  He gave her a broad smile and said “great, now we can relax and enjoy the night, all right with you?” She simply supplied that coy smile and nodded yes. “It is Christmas in our Nation’s capital and it’s snowing. I have a car waiting outside and we have reservations at Komi and we should have some time for a little sightseeing, like maybe the Christmas lights at the National Zoo?”

  “Who is this guy?” she asked herself. She didn’t even care anymore. If he was a serial killer, what a way to go she thought. “Who are you” she asked him as they stood to leave.

  “I just a guy who can’t believe his good luck at getting stranded in D.C. with most beautiful and intelligent girl on the planet, that’s who I am.” “Good answer,” she thought, “really good answer.” Suddenly she turned and said “I wasn’t planning outside, I assumed we’d be dining here. I don’t really have a wrap for outside.” Smoothly he draped the cashmere coat around her shoulder, it was big, but soft and smelled slightly of something familiar. It smelled like his cologne. As they walked towards the door, she felt a little giddy, lost in the cashmere that smelled like him. She leaned into the coat and into him just a bit and he put his arm around her. She had never felt so amazing, so safe, so happy and so excited. Maybe it was a date after all.

  Just outside of the airport terminal, she found not “a car” as he had said. She thought he probably had rented an economy or mid-sized car at the last minute. An unmarked black stretch waited for them. The white female driver jumped out to open the door but he waved her back and opened the door for Latisse himself. She slid into the thick leather seats and took in the interior view. The television was off as was a portable laptop. The mini bar lay ready with an iced bottle of Korbel champagne. Korbel was a winery she planned to visit in Napa. Wine flutes decorated with holiday ribbon sat adjacent to a bowl of expensive chocolates and fresh strawberries. Fresh strawberries in December, in Washington D.C. She knew this couldn’t be random; he had done this by himself. When had he had time she mused? And why did he go through all this trouble for someone he had just met?

  The restaurant surprised her. She hadn’t heard of “Komi.” They pulled up to an unassuming clapboard house in the middle of what looked like a residential block. It was actually next to a CVS pharmacy. Inside was warmly decorated, like you were eating at someone’s home. The music was adult contemporary, not classical as she had expected. The waiters and especially the sommelier were friendly, not formal and there were no menus. After sitting and receiving an introductory glass of wine, food started coming at regular intervals paired with the wine Kat, the wine steward talked passionately about. There were bite sized chopped scallops in caramelized coconut with just a hint of cilantro. Charred octopus with peaches, gnocchi with salt cured ragu, house cured anchovies with fresh tomatoes and homemade mozzarella and several other delicacies one by one over an hour or so. Just when Latisse felt full, almost too full and expected a break, a platter of roast suckling pig arrived. He turned with concern and asked her
“do you eat pork?” “Hell yes,” she replied as they dove into the sweetest meat she had ever eaten. Little bite sized sweets including homemade Baklava and berry cheesecake paired with a soft dessert wine finished the feast. It was by far the most unique and delicious meal she had ever enjoyed.

  They had been able to talk a little during dinner. Of course Kat kept them updated on the various wines, waiters described all of the dishes and Johnny Monis, the owner and chef had come out to be appreciated. The wine and food had made them both sleepy so they rode in the limo in comfortable quiet along the Potomac waters taking in all of the holiday lights and sights. The snow continued to fall and Latisse thought that this was possibly the most perfect night she had ever enjoyed. It was like a fairy tale Christmas. This was turning out to be the best Christmas she had ever had with any man. Moreover, if she had to pick a gift, it would be him wrapped in absolutely nothing.

  She just hoped that this night would go past midnight and her handsome prince would not turn into a toad.