Page 35 of A Powerful Attraction
* * *
Complications.
That was how the doctor explained that her heart and lung just gave up. That was why Alex, Sherry, and Rashad were standing on the deck of a boat, several miles out from the port of Savannah, with Heather’s ashes in an urn.
Alex and Rashad had rented the vessel and crew from a company that conducted memorial services at sea and assisted in the scattering of ashes. Heather had always wanted to visit Savannah, and they’d promised her when she got better they would take a trip there. Just like they’d all taken a trip to Colombia, to see Alex’s home. Just like they’d taken road trips back in college, scrounging up enough money to cover gas and the cost of sandwiches they made to take on their weekend adventures.
Heather never took the trip to Savannah while alive, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be her final resting place. The ceremony had been short and sweet, with Alex and Rashad sharing stories about Heather to the small audience.
At the end of it, the captain said a few words and Alex handed over the urn to him. The captain crouched on the deck and, using a special device, released the ashes into the water instead of letting them float up into the air. Another crew member approached with a basket that contained red roses. All three of them—Alex, Sherry, and Rashad—selected two roses each and, one by one, tossed them into the water to float among Heather’s remains.
The crew left them alone at the railing, and Sherry moved and stood between Rashad on her left and Alex on her right. Both men were stoic, jaws clenched, their expressions somber.
She took Rashad’s hand and leaned her weight into Alex’s arm, holding his hand tight to simultaneously receive and offer strength. In a short time, she’d fallen in love with Alex, become close to Rashad, and come to view Heather as a friend.
A tear ran unchecked down her cheek. She didn’t experience the depth of pain they did at Heather’s passing, but her heart still hurt that she was gone. She gained some comfort in knowing that perhaps praying with Heather over a week ago had played a small part in helping her die in peace.
But her heart hurt for Heather’s two brothers, standing on either side of her, and she wished there could have been a different outcome.
16
Rain dropped to the street below and puddled on the stone terrace outside the French doors of the boutique hotel in Medellín, Colombia.
“Come back to bed.” Alex’s husky voice came from behind Sherry.
They’d stayed out late the night before, dancing at a small salsa bar near Parque Lleras in the upscale neighborhood of El Poblado. Afterward, they hung out in the street with the rest of the partygoers, chatting and laughing with a mix of locals and foreigners, before heading to a twenty-four-hour cafe for a quick bite and then finally returning to the hotel.
Sherry turned away from the window but left the curtains open so they could enjoy the sight of the rain as well as listen to the soothing way it hit the exterior of the building. She let Alex’s shirt from the night before, which she’d pulled on as a cover-up, fall from her shoulders into a puddle on the floor.
She climbed into the bed and scooted over to Alex, and he repositioned onto his side and pulled her close. They were both naked, preferring the intimacy of sleeping skin to skin, their warm bodies in constant contact throughout the night.
Sliding a leg between both of his, Sherry groaned grumpily and pouted. “Can’t we stay here forever?”
He smiled indulgently at her. “I have a business to run, and we both have clients to take care of.”
“But we could work remotely, and Rashad could handle any problems that crop up in Atlanta.”
“You have it all figured out, don’t you?” Alex said, amused.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and it could work.”
At least, she wanted the idea to work. Sherry had never been out of the country before, and the benefit of seeing Colombia with a native meant a more special and memorable experience. Alex knew the local hangouts and best places to visit, not just the tourist hotspots. He knew where to shop for cheap and authentic souvenirs made in-country, and the restaurants that served the best of local cuisine.
She’d triedbandeja paisa, often referred to as the country’s national dish. Her eyes had widened when the high-calorie meal had been placed before her. The platter contained rice, fried plantains,arepa—a corn cake—avocado, minced meat, chorizo, black sausage, a fried pork rind, and a fried egg. Alex and the waitress had had a good laugh at her expense. She couldn’t eat it all, but made such a valiant effort that she ended up stuffed and didn’t eat another bite for the rest of the day.
Her favorite food discovery by far waschocolate con queso. At first, the idea of cheese dipped in hot chocolate did not sound appetizing, but she’d quickly grown accustomed, and it was now a breakfast staple.
“Your parents didn’t even want you to come here, so they wouldn’t be pleased with that arrangement,” Alex pointed out. “They will accuse me of kidnapping their daughter.”
“My parents gave their blessing to marry me, remember?” Sherry wiggled her hand in front of his face so he could see the marquise-cut diamond on her finger.
They’d gone to visit her parents in Kentucky at Christmas, and unbeknownst to Sherry, he’d asked for their blessing because he planned to ask for her hand in marriage while they were in Colombia. They both gave their blessing but didn’t like the idea of her ringing in the New Year in Colombia. Alex had assured them Bogotá and Medellín were no less safe than any major city in the United States.
“We’ll be back again, plenty of times,” Alex said, rubbing a hand up and down her bare arm. “I come back at least once a year, sometimes twice. Who knows, maybe we’ll buy a place here.”
“Yes, let’s do that. Ilovethat idea.”
He pulled her atop him. “And I love you.” He let his hands slip below the sheet to cup her bottom.
