Tropical Storm (5 page)

He was out the door before he could stop himself.

Walking demurely away from her admirers, Cairo watched as Storm went in search of her towel. She never made it. His hand reached out and jerked her into a hidden enclave near the pool’s entrance. She was about to scream when she heard his voice close to her ear.

“What are you doing?” The question came out in a growl.

She whipped around to confront him. “You scared me!”

“Good,” Cairo returned. “You should be scared.”

She rolled her eyes. “What have I done now?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t you know?”

“I don’t!” Storm protested. “Enlighten me.”

“Jessica, I manage a respectable business with a respectable clientele. I prefer that you don’t wander around the place giving the impression that you are for sale.”

Storm stepped back and looked up at him, her eyes blazing.

“What are you trying to say, Cairo?” She planted her hands on her hips.

“Do you really want me to spell it out?” The words were harsher than he intended as his gaze traveled down her body and he found himself wishing for a moment that the hands on her hips were his.

“Yes, spell it out for me.” It was a demand.

“What I’m saying is that your Victoria’s Secret runway display is not appreciated here at
The Victory
.” He said scornfully.

“My Victoria’s Secret runway display?” Storm repeated and laughed. “Mmm, that’s a new one. I didn’t know you were watching.”

“How could I miss it?” He said his voice barely a whisper.

“Did you like what you saw?” She asked huskily.

“That’s not the point.” He said annoyed.

Storm laughed. “What
is
the point, Cairo? Tell me quick. I’m getting cold.” She said hugging herself.

Cairo could see why. He let his eyes roam over her. He
had only made love to her once but his body tingled with the memory. Having a child and being married to a rich bastard had obviously had no ill effects.

“Enjoying the view?” She asked with a knowing smile.

Caught staring, he shrugged.

“I take pleasure in the fact that you like what you see. I wore this outfit for you.” She said trailing
a dainty hand down the front of his shirt.

“Where’s your son?” Cairo asked abruptly, wanting to change the subject. “You haven’t left him to run wild on the island have you?”

“Shane likes to have fun.” Storm answered lightly. “It’s in his genetic make-up. Here or at home, I can hardly try and tame him. He has dragged the hotel nanny off to explore. Don’t worry about him though; he has his father’s resourcefulness.”

“I gotta go. Excuse me.” The mention of Shane’s father effectively ended the conversation. Cairo was not interested in knowing anything about him. Just mentioning him showed Cairo just how insensitive she was. With a fierce scowl knitting his brow and without another word, Cairo turned away to head
back to his office
but someone was blocking the way.

“Good Lord.” He groaned.

Far from offended, the intruder smiled and waved him closer. Cairo sighed and crouched down.

“Your name is Shane, isn’t it?” He tried to give the boy a smile but failed.

Shane’s smile was big
enough
for both of them.

Cairo looked over his shoulder. “Where’s the nanny that’s supposed to be watching you?”

“I gave her the slip.” Shane said without remorse. “She was walking too slow. I don’t want her to show me anything anyhow. She only shows me the boring things. I want
you
to show me around.” He explained.

“No!” It was out before he could stop it. Embarrassed, Cairo lowered his voice and tried again. “I’m sorry but I can’t.”

“Why!” Shane demanded.

“Because . . . because,” Cairo searched for a reason.

“Because you hate me?” The child filled in.

That brought him up short. He looked down at the boy who stared back at him with the maturity of someone twice his age. As they studied each other, Cairo wondered if he did indeed hate
him for being someone else’s son. He also
wondered if he hated him a little because he was Storm’s.

“I don’t think your mother would appreciate us hanging out together.” Cairo answered, thinking quickly.

“She won’t mind.” Shane protested. “She loves you.”

Cairo felt his heart leap at the words before he forced his mind to overrule what his ears had heard. He knew she
didn’t love him, and that
she never had. “No, she doesn’t, Shane.” He needed to say it out loud.

“Yes, she does. She told me so.” Shane insisted.

Cairo couldn’t bear to hear the words repeated so he gave in. “Where would you like to go?”

Shane’s grin was triumphant. “Anywhere you want to take me.”

It was the most embarrassing moment of his life. Desperate to fill the child’s mouth with a soda to end his chatter, they’d ended up in a shop not far from the hotel.
Shane was causing a lot of unnecessary attention
in the sea of adults. To prove his point, the cashier tapped his shoulder.

“Cairo, is that your son?” She asked, her accent creating a melody with the words.

“No!” Cairo answered quickly.

Sandy wasn’t convinced. “You sure?” She said hands resting on ample hips. “Despite his coloring, he kind of favors you.”

“No Sandy, he’s not mine. He belongs to a . . . friend.” It was the best Cairo could do on short notice.

“Good.” She said leaning down so her elbows rested on the counter’s surface. “I want you for myself, Cairo and I won’t let anyone else take you away from me.” She whispered.

Cairo flashed her a big white smile. Sandy was beautiful, long-legged, dark and lovely and very much married. He was about to ask her about her husband when he was interrupted.

“Daddy!” Shane’s words ricocheted off the rafters.

Cairo felt himself turning red as everyone in the shop turned to stare. He shot the boy a scandalized glare but Shane only smirked wickedly.

Amidst the knowing nods of the patrons, Cairo yanked him up off the stool and exited the shop as fast as his feet could carry him. When they had gone far enough away, he angrily
turned to face Shane.

“What are you trying to do? By tonight the lie will be all over the parish!”

Shane wasn’t contrite. “She’s too pretty,” he said. “I’m saving you for mommy.”

“The hell you are!” Cairo yelled. “Your mother is the last person I want to be with.”

At this Shane was silent.

Turning on his heel, Cairo angrily stalked up a beaten path shielded by numerous shrubs and thick bushes; Shane trotted after him. When the upward climb sufficiently winded the boy, Cairo stopped at a small house where he took a key from under the front doormat, opened the door with it and motioned the boy into the small and secluded home.

“Go have a seat.” He ordered.

“Whose house is this?” Shane demanded no longer silent.

“It was my grandfather’s, now it’s
mine.”

“You live
here
?” Shane asked his eyes going wide in disbelief.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Cairo asked coolly, wondering if snobbery ran in the family.

Shane shrugged. “No, I guess not. It’s a bit old, but if you like it, I do too.”

Cairo softened a little. “Shane, this is my favorite place in the whole
world. My grandfather left it to me when he died. I loved him very much and it’s the only place I feel close to him. It might not seem like much, but everyone has their own idea of heaven.”

Shane roamed the house looking for signs of heaven. He opened drawers, peeped in corners and thoroughly
cased the place. He was determined to find something interesting. Shane pulled a picture from inside a box that Cairo normally kept closed.

“Who is this?”

Cairo tensed, fearing he had come upon an old picture of Storm. Peering down into the box, Cairo smiled in relief. “That’s my grandfather when he was a young man.”

“But he’s black!” Shane said quizzically.

Cairo laughed; he couldn’t help himself.

“Yes, he is black, isn’t he?”

“But you’re not black,
are
you?” Shane was puzzled.

Cairo took the picture from him. “No, I’m not black, but my grandfather was. He adopted me when I was fifteen after my parents died. He was their best friend. After he adopted me, we spent summers together here and six years ago I convinced him to move back with me for good. He taught me everything I know. He was a great man.” Cairo looked longingly at the photo.

“What else is in here?” Shane asked leaning further into the box. Cairo quickly pulled him out.

“That’s enough for today, Shane. Let’s get back to the hotel. Your mother is probably getting worried. Back down the hill we go.”

When he groaned Cairo
smiled
and said. “Don’t worry, Shane. This time I’ll carry you.”

The promise was music to Shane’s ears.

Seemingly unaffected by Shane’s weight, Storm watched as strong, purposeful strides brought Cairo closer. The longer she watched the more the heavy crushing sensation in her chest spread. Relaxed in the crux of Cairo’s muscular arms, Shane was cradled against his heart. Storm watched them in envy and admiration, savoring the image for as long as it would last. This was what she wanted to see, what she had paid a private investigator the bulk of her trust fund to find. This was why she had come to Jamaica, to see
Shane and Cairo, together at last.

“I brought him back as soon as possible, I hope you don’t mind.” He said setting her son on his feet.

As unobtrusively as she could, Storm dabbed the corner of her eyes. This was what she had wanted when she married Cairo. It was a possibility until things had gone so terribly wrong. Six years of dreams had been lost; she wanted them back. Smoothing her shirt with hands that trembled slightly, she looked at him and gave him a radiant smile.

“Of course I don’t mind.” She said waving away his concern. “Why should I mind my two favorite men hanging out together?”

Shane freed himself from Cairo’s grasp and ran to his mother. He looked across at Cairo happily after he’d settled into Storm’s embrace.

“See, I told you,” He stuck out his chin. “I told you that she loved you.”

Storm’s bountiful curls flew around her shoulders as she swung around to look at him. They stared at each other for a long time. Cairo spoke first.

“You’re wrong, Shane.” He said his eyes still on her face. “She thought she loved me once, but that was a long time ago.”

When
Storm started to speak Cairo cut her off.

“I never asked, but how is your husband . . . James, right?”

The question had the desired effect. Storm’s lashes shuttered over her eyes to hide her thoughts.

“I see you remember him.” Cairo said watching her closely. “From the age of your son, I assume you ended up marrying him after all. Tell me Jessica, does your beloved husband know that you’re here?”

“Where I am is none of James’s business.” Storm replied stiffly. “He never had a say in my life and he never will.”

Cairo nodded gravely. “Are the two of you engaged in one of those New Age marriages?” When he didn’t get a response he changed tactics. “How long have you been divorced?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he shook his head and held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. Forget I asked. Despite everything, I’m sorry it didn’t work out. The two of you are from the same world; I thought that made you compatible. I guess I was wrong.”

“You were wrong about a lot of things, Cairo.” Storm said her gaze holding his defiantly.

Cairo looked away. “Yes, well,” he said stiffly. “That still remains to be seen.”

With that comment, he jammed his hands in his pockets and walked off without another word.

“I know that look.” Tyrone said coming into the office just as Cairo was sitting down.

Caught off guard, Cairo was immediately on the defensive.

“What look?” He demanded.

“You know the one I’m talking about.” His cousin said sauntering into the office and throwing himself down into a chair. “
Shamee
Mary, Cairo.
Shamee
Mary.” He said as if Cairo would know what that meant.

“What?” Cairo said his brow wrinkling as he leaned back in his chair.

Tyrone shook his head sadly. “I keep forgetting that you’re Jamaican by adoption only.
Shamee
Mary is like the dandelion flower that little girl’s play with.” He explained.

Cairo’s brow remained creased so Tyrone elaborated. “You know, cuz? I love her. I love her not.”

Cairo didn’t need to hear any more. “Are you out of your damn mind, man?” The wheels of his chair hit the ground with a thud. “If we are talking about Jessica, love
her
I definitely do
not
.”

“So you say,” Tyrone said unconvinced. “But I have seen that look before. I couldn’t blame you if you still loved her cuz. I have never seen a more beautiful woman.”

Cairo abruptly stood up. He walked to the window of his office and stared out. “Yes, she is beautiful, isn’t she?” He admitted his hands clasped behind his back. “I look at her now and wonder how someone so beautiful could be so treacherous. I wonder how I could have been so wrong about her. When I married her, I thought that it would last forever. The marriage didn’t even last the night. I never told you this but Jessica’s parents never liked me. To them I could never be anything other than what I was. They hated me because I was poor and because I had the wrong address on the wrong side of town. It didn’t help that the only family I had was an old black man from the Caribbean. How anyone in this day and age can still harbor those kinds of prejudices astounds me.”

“Prejudice and elitism! Why I’ve never heard of such things.” Tyrone exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, his fingers splayed dramatically over his heart.

Cairo smiled in
spite of himself. Tyrone had that effect on him.

“Yeah well,” Cairo said shrugging off the memories. “It’s over now. They didn’t win. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t make me feel ashamed of who I was. I couldn’t change that I was a poor orphan. As for Papa Joseph, he was good to me and I refused to be embarrassed of a man whose only crime was adopting and loving me. According to them it really didn’t matter what kind of man I really was, I was simply not good enough for their daughter. On our wedding night they burst into our motel room and practically ripped her out of my arms. I would have fought for her but . . . ” Cairo’s words trailed off as he lost himself briefly in the memories.