Sweet Summer Days Page 13
Brandon stood and nodded. “Since it’s almost five, I’m going to take off, unless you need me to stay.”
He shook his head.
“Tell Mom hi.”
“I will.”
He stalked back to his desk, locked up and set out for the gym his brother, Khalil, owned. The former model was now a highly sought after personal trainer. With rush-hour traffic, it took Brandon nearly an hour to reach his destination, which incensed him even more. He was more than ready to take out his frustrations on the heavy bag.
“Damn, big brother. You might want to go easy on that bag.”
Ignoring Khalil for the moment, Brandon continued with his punches. A few minutes later, winded, he removed his gloves, wiped his face with a towel and downed a bottle of water.
“Want to tell me what’s going on and why you’re about to dislodge my bag from the ceiling?”
He took up a position next to Khalil on the wall. “Dad is postponing his retirement. He said something came up that he needs to handle and it could be another couple of months.”
“Why can’t you handle it?”
“I offered, but he wouldn’t even tell me what it was. It’s bugging the hell out of me. I’m almost positive Uncle Thad is in on it, too.” Brandon recalled the shared look between the two men.
Khalil swung his head in Brandon’s direction. “I know he’s not thinking about putting someone else in the CEO position. Granted, you do go over the top sometimes, like when that couple was trying to sue the company last year. You’re lucky Siobhan and Morgan are still speaking to you.”
He shot his brother a dark glare. “Shut up.” When the accusations were first leveled, Siobhan, the company’s PR director, had been out of town with her now husband and missed several calls that weekend. Their baby sister, Morgan, had been tasked to handle the legal case and, unbeknownst to the family, had become agent to a star football player. Both times, Brandon had confronted his sisters, feeling that they should have put the company first. Needless to say, it hadn’t won him any brownie points. While Siobhan still worked for the company, Morgan had left the company six months ago and was doing well in the world of sports management. She had also married said football player. “Dad said he wasn’t looking to place anyone else in the position, but I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Thank God, because I’m certainly not going to do it, and neither is Malcolm.” Their youngest brother, Morgan’s twin, played professional football and had no interest in doing anything not sports related. Khalil straightened from the wall. “Well, you’ve waited all this time for the position. Another few weeks won’t kill you.” Brandon grunted and Khalil laughed. “Besides, it’ll give you more time to practice some patience.”
Brandon grabbed his stuff and left Khalil standing there. He spent another forty-five minutes lifting weights before calling it a night. To add to his already foul mood, he realized that he’d forgotten to add a change of clothes and, after showering, had to put his wrinkled slacks and dress shirt back on. He spotted Khalil on his way out working with a client and threw up a wave.
At his car, Brandon tossed his gym bag in the back seat then climbed in on the driver’s side, started the engine and drove off. His stomach growled, letting him know it was far past the time for him to eat. As he merged onto the freeway, his cell rang and he engaged the Bluetooth device. “Hello.”
“Brandon, can you stop by Thad’s and pick up a folder for the meeting tomorrow morning?”
“Hey, Dad. I thought he was going to be there.”
“He planned to, but the orthopedic clinic had a cancellation and can see him sooner than his original appointment two months from now.”
Brandon knew how difficult it was to get an appointment with a specialist and understood the necessity of taking anything that came along earlier.
“I’d go, but your mother and I are on our way out and won’t be back until late.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Groaning, Brandon reversed his course and headed in the opposite direction. Twenty minutes later, he parked behind Uncle Thad’s black Buick, got out and started up the walkway. Unlike the other houses on the block, this one had no steps leading to the door, which made it easier for him to maneuver his crutches or wheelchair. He rang the bell and, while waiting, scanned the meticulously groomed yard. Brandon remembered mowing it on many weekends growing up. The grass had turned brown in spots, but that was to be expected with the drought.
“Brandon, come on in.”
He turned at the sound of his uncle’s voice and stepped inside. “Hey, Unc. I see you still keep the yard looking good.”
Uncle Thad smiled. “You know I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He adjusted his crutches and led the way further into the house. “Sorry you had to go out of your way. I know you probably have things to do so I won’t keep you.” The inside of the house was just as neat, with not a speck of dust to be found anywhere, despite his bachelorhood. He picked up a manila folder from the dining room table and handed it over.
“Thanks. Dad or I will fill you in when you get back.” Brandon retraced his steps to the front door.
“All right. See you Friday.”
He loped down the walk to his car, got in and backed out of the driveway. His stomach growled again. He had a steak marinating that he planned to grill and pair it with some potatoes and an ear of corn, but he was so hungry he didn’t think he’d last the time it took to prepare the meal. But he didn’t want to stop for fast food, either. The good thing was that Unc’s house wasn’t far from the freeway. He shifted his gaze from the road briefly to check the dash clock. Seven-thirty. Hopefully, at this hour, he would have missed a good portion of the traffic. Brandon eased onto the highway and immediately saw that it was still a little heavy, but not too bad. His cell rang again. He sighed and connected.
“You were supposed to stop by my office and tell me what Dad wanted,” Siobhan said as soon Brandon answered. “I went to your office and your assistant said that you left before five. You never leave before five. What happened?”
He sighed, not really wanting to talk about it. “I just thought I’d leave a little early today, Vonnie, that’s all.”
“Mmm hmm, and you didn’t answer my question.”
Rather than risk his sister coming to his house tonight—and she definitely would to get answers—Brandon gave in. “He’s postponing his retirement.” He repeated what he’d told Khalil.
“That’s strange. Well, at least you’ll still get the position.”
“Yeah, but—” A truck cut across the highway and hit something in the road that flew through the windshield of a car in the next lane a few lengths ahead. The car swerved and crashed into the center divide. Brandon let out a curse, flipped on his hazard lights and eased to a stop in front of the car. “There’s an accident. I’ll call you back.”
Luckily, the shoulder was wide enough for the crashed car to be out of oncoming traffic. He jumped out, cell phone in hand and, being careful to stay closer to the shoulder, sprinted back to the passenger side of the car while dialing 911. He peered through the window and saw a woman inside. He gave the dispatcher the location and told him that the woman was conscious, but that a pipe of some sort was imbedded in her right shoulder. Brandon couldn’t tell whether it had gone in deep or if it was just the deployed airbag holding it in place. “Miss, are you okay?” he called through the slightly open window.
She moaned, tried to push the airbag out of her face with her left hand and rolled her head in his direction. Her eyes fluttered closed and opened again.
In the fading sunlight, Brandon could see bits of glass in her hair and blood on her cheek where she had been cut. “Can you unlock the doors?” For a moment he thought she had passed out, then he heard the click of the lock. He opened the door and, being careful of all the glass on the seat, leaned in. “Help is on the way. What’s your name?”
&nb
sp; “Faith,” she whispered.
“Faith, I’m Brandon. Are you hurt anywhere else besides your shoulder?”
“I…I don’t know. Every…thing…hurts.” Her eyes closed again.
“Faith, I need you to stay with me.” He backed out and started to go around to the driver’s side.
She moaned again. “Please…please don’t leave.”
“I’m just coming around to your side.” He waited for a break in the traffic and hurried around to the driver’s side. Once there, he carefully opened the door and managed to give her some breathing room from the airbag. Brandon reached for her hand, his concern mounting. “Are you still with me?” She muttered something that sounded like yes. Brandon was momentarily distracted when another person approached.
“Is she okay, man? I called 911.”
“Thanks. She’s hanging in there.” It seemed like an eternity passed before he heard the sirens. Finally.
When the paramedics and police arrived, Brandon stepped back. A police officer called him over to give a statement and his gaze kept straying to where the medical team was getting her out of the car and onto a gurney. Faith cried out and it took everything in him not to rush over. He finished his account and stood by watching with the other two people who had eventually stopped.
“Is one of you named Brandon?” a paramedic called out.
Brandon strode over. “Yeah. Me.”
“She’s asking for you.”
He smiled down at her strapped down on the gurney. In the fading sunlight, he could see her face starting to swell where the airbag had hit her. “You’re in good hands now.”
“Thank you,” Faith said, her voice barely audible. “My stuff…my…”
He took it to mean she wanted her things from the car. “I’ll get them.” To the paramedic he asked, “What hospital are you taking her to?” After getting the information, he walked back and retrieved her purse, keys and a small bag from the back seat. Why was he thinking about going to the hospital? He’d done his civic duty. It would be easy to hand off her belongings to one of the officers and be on his way. But for some reason, he needed to make sure—for himself—that she was okay. Brandon slid behind the wheel of his car and, instead of going home, merged back onto the freeway and headed to the hospital.
Dear Reader,
Many of you asked if Thaddeus Whitcomb (introduced in Giving My All To You) would get his own happily-ever-after. I’m pleased to share his and Celeste’s journey to love, grown folks style, and I hope you enjoy the ride. There may not be a lot of drama—when you get to a certain age, most times you know what and who you want—but that doesn’t mean the road is 100% smooth. However, if they’re lucky, forever just may be in the cards. I hope you enjoy this first installment from The Grays Family & Friends series and catching up with the Gray family.
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Thank you for your continued encouragement and support. I appreciate you. Remember to drop me a line at sheryllister@gmail.com if you have any questions, comment, or just want to chat. I love hearing from you.
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You can also find me:
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Website: www.sheryllister.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sheryllisterauthor
Twitter: @1slynne
Instagram: sheryllister
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Love & Blessings!
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Sheryl
Acknowledgments
My Heavenly Father, thank You for Your sufficient grace.
To my husband, Lance: your love, support and encouragement is what keeps me going.
Brandi, Maia, Riana, Otis, Sr., Otis Jr. and Jace, Mom (Grandma) loves you!
Thank you to my friends and family for your consistent support.
To my Club N.E.O. and Book Euphoria sisters, I love you ladies!
A huge thank you to real-life heroine Celeste Williams for supporting me from day one and allowing me to name my character after you.
To all of my readers: thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Paulette Nunlee, your editorial guidance is priceless. Thank you.
A very special thank you to my agent, Sarah E. Younger and Natanya Wheeler. I appreciate you more than I can say. You ladies are miracle workers!
Discover Sheryl Lister
Harlequin Kimani
Just To Be With You
All Of Me
It’s Only You
Be Mine For Christmas (Unwrapping The Holidays Anthology)
Tender Kisses (The Grays of Los Angeles Book 1)
Places In My Heart (The Grays of Los Angeles Book 2)
Giving My All To You (The Grays of Los Angeles Book 3)
A Touch Of Love
Still Loving You
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Other Titles
Made To Love You
It’s You That I Need
Perfect Chemistry
Embracing Forever (Once Upon A Bridesmaid Book 3)
Love’s Serenade (Decades: A Journey Of African American Romance Book 3)
About the Author
Sheryl Lister is a multi-award winning author who has enjoyed reading and writing for as long as she can remember. After putting writing on the back burner for several years, she became serious about her craft in 2009. When she’s not reading or writing, Sheryl can be found on a date with her husband or in the kitchen creating appetizers and bite-sized desserts. Sheryl resides in California and is a wife, mother of three and former pediatric occupational therapist. She is a member of RWA, CIMRWA, the Kiss of Death Chapter of RWA, and is represented by Sarah E. Younger of Nancy Yost Literary Agency.