Page 24 of Forever Mine

Chapter 9

Scott

Shevaughn …

I didn’t understand it, but since we parted ways in Miami, I couldn’t think about anything but her. She was on my mind all day, every day, it seemed, which was strange, considering my situation.

That creamy skin, her soulful brown eyes, kissable lips, and the snappy conversation that kept me on my toes. Everything about her intrigued me. I wasn’t entertaining the notion that I liked her like that, but there it was.

Never far away from my thoughts was what Lucy had pulled. We'd been engaged for half a year before things went to hell six months ago. Thankfully that mistake was now behind me, despite the announcement Diane made at the seminar.

I’d been lucky to escape with disaster only costing me a ring. If I’d left things to Lucy, we’d have already been married. I put her out of my mind before she spoiled my entire day. Vaughn was something else. She improved my mood every time I thought about her.

I’d enjoyed talking with her over the last three weeks—outside of our negotiation to get me to work with her graphic artists. Shevaughn was determined, focused, and sharp, which came through in our dealings. She'd taken me at my word and ensured I gave her a discount off my regular fee. I was happy to do that for her.

The payoff would be sweet, because she’d agreed to be my tour guide. A pretty smart way to be at her side without having to come up with excuses. After booking a morning flight to the island, I’d talked her into having lunch with me. The job I was contracted to do was scheduled to start tomorrow, so I had the afternoon to do whatever I wanted.

This was my first visit to Jamaica, and the heat met me in a blistering embrace outside the airport. I’d done the smart thing and kept my hair in a ponytail.

The driver, hired by the company hosting me, picked me up promptly. After he took me to the townhouse where I was staying, I parked my suitcases in the bedroom, washed my face, and sent a message to Shevaughn to confirm that I’d meet her at the agreed restaurant.

A glance at my pocket watch confirmed I had fifteen minutes to get to a place called The Eatery. I gave the driver the directions Shevaughn supplied.

The dark-skinned man read my scrawl easily enough and looked at me in the rearview mirror. “I know where it is.”

“Good.” I sat back and prepared to take in the view. The streets were quiet, as I’d expect on a Sunday. The buildings were different from home. There were few high rises that had more than ten floors. The air also smelled different, with a tinge of the sea. I couldn’t help noticing a few raggedy men walking aimlessly and figured they might be homeless. I wondered how they managed the heat.

There wasn’t much else to see other than buildings and a few cars. The area we drove through seemed to be a commercial center, and in a couple more minutes, the driver turned into a two-story plaza. Only a few shops were open, and the restaurant was tucked away in the back on the ground floor of the building. The sign above the front door told me I was in the right place.

“Thanks,” I said to Charles, the driver.

“Give me a call when you’re ready.”

“Yeah.” I got out of the car, wondering if Vaughn was already inside.

My gaze swept the parking lot, but I didn’t see an aqua green Honda Stream. A smug grin pulled at my lips. I wanted to be there before Vaughn, simply to watch her. This woman had presence. When she walked into a room, something shifted. Could be I was having flights of fancy, but it was something I picked up while we were in Miami. People noticed her arrival wherever she went. That arresting quality had me here early, eager to be in her company.

I pushed the door open and walked into the restaurant. The Eatery had an upscale, but comfy setting. Deep burgundy booths, cream tables, a huge wooden bar, and paintings on the wall. At a glance, I knew the abstract paintings were good quality.

A young woman in black pants and a white shirt hovered near the entrance.

“Welcome. Can I help?”

“Yes, I’m meeting someone here, but she hasn’t arrived as yet.”

“No problem,” the waitress said. “You can be seated while you wait.”

My gaze slid to her name tag and back to her face. “Thanks, Carol. That’s cool.”

She beckoned for me to follow her and invited me to sit against a wall close to the back of the room. The place was next to empty, but I supposed that would be the case on a Sunday afternoon.

Carol disappeared, then came back with a glass of water and a menu. “Would you like to have a look while you wait?”

Nodding, I took it from her. “Thanks.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

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