Keith nodded. “If you and Jazz aren’t in a hurry to get back to the city, then I’ll take you to a local winery where you can sample a few varieties. You can also arrange for whatever you want to be shipped back to New Orleans.”
Lines fanned around Cameron’s eyes when he smiled. “Now, that sounds like a plan. Did you enjoy Georgia U?” he asked, deftly changing the topic of conversation from one which he suspected was uncomfortable for Jasmine.
Keith’s head moved and up down like a bobble-head doll. “I loved it because I was living out my dream to play football. I was good enough to be drafted to the NFL but my pro ball career ended after a couple of years when a drunk driver hit me head-on and I broke both my legs. I was in a funk for a couple of months after my contract ended, and I thought about going back to college to get a graduate degree and coach high school or college ball when my sister suggested I go to culinary school because I always loved to cook. I took her advice and that’s when I met the love of my life.” Keith winked at Danita when she lowered her eyes.
“She told me she’d inherited a house out on Long Island and was thinking about turning it into a bed-and-breakfast. I told her I was willing to invest in her business venture, but only as her partner and husband.”
Reaching for his wineglass, Cameron touched it to Keith’s. “Smooth move.”
Danita rolled her eyes upward. “He wasn’t that smooth. I made him wait a year before I told him I would marry him.”
“Don’t they say good things come to those who wait?” Cameron intoned.
“I hear you!” Keith drawled. “What about you, Cameron?”
“What about me?”
“Have you ever been married?” Keith asked.
“No.”
Danita gave her husband an incredulous stare. “Keith! Why are you in that man’s business?”
“The man said no, so it’s obvious he didn’t mind my asking,” Keith said defensively.
Cameron stared at his plate. He knew Keith was curious as to his relationship with his niece. The older man had referred to him as her boyfriend and while he wanted it to be true, it was hardly the case. Although it was only the second time they’d gotten together, he felt as if he had known her longer.
* * *
Jasmine knew it was time to end what would be an inquisition where her uncle would ask Cameron a litany of questions—some he may not have wanted to answer. She rested a hand on his. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll show you the house.”
Cameron pushed back his chair, rising to his feet, and easing back Jasmine’s chair. “I’m ready.”
She waited until they were near the staircase leading to the second story, and then said, “I’m sorry about my uncle interrogating you.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, Jasmine. There’s nothing in my life or past I feel the need to hide. In other words, I’m an open book.”
A mysterious smile touched the corners of Jasmine’s mouth. “Are you a page-turner or one I’m tempted to close after reading the first page?”
Cameron angled his head. “That’s something you’re going to have to discover for yourself. After all, you’ll have the rest of today, tomorrow, and Sunday morning to read as much as you can before I leave.”
“We’ll see, won’t we,” Jasmine countered.
She doubted whether she would know everything she wanted or needed to know about Cameron because she’d married and slept next to a man for nearly a decade and had no inkling that he was leading a double life. With the exception of traveling for a client, Raymond came home every night, made love to her at least twice a week, never forgot her birthday or their anniversary, and always ended their telephone calls withI love you.
Jasmine decided to take Nydia’s advice and enjoy her time with Cameron and once he left New York she would continue her life as usual. It would be the second time within a year that she wouldn’t work the summer, and come fall she would know whether she would continue as a human resource specialist, or resurrect her career as an interior decorator.
“How many rooms are in this house?” Cameron asked as they climbed the staircase.
Jasmine peered at him over her shoulder. “There are five bedrooms and seven baths. A man who owned a Brooklyn beer distillery built the house as a summer retreat for his family. He lost his fortune during Prohibition and decided to move out here permanently and take up farming. The property changed hands over the years until an investment banker bought it as a wedding present for his bride. Once my aunt decided to convert the house to a B and B, and asked me to decorate it, I suggested she fill it with period pieces.”
“Were the original pieces antiques?” Cameron asked when he followed Jasmine down a carpeted hallway.
“Yes. Much to my disappointment I wasn’t able to locate the dealer who’d purchased them. It took me a year of going to estate and garage sales to exhaust my list of antique dealers here on the island and in the tristate to find something comparable to the period. Personally I find the rooms in Victorian homes rather tacky. They were overcrowded because the occupants tended to flaunt their wealth.”
“Are you saying less is better?”
She smiled over her shoulder at Cameron. “For me, yes. A room is a blank canvas and it’s up to the decorator to fill it up with items that reflect his or her client’s personality. There are four guest rooms here on the second floor, while my aunt and uncle have claimed the suite on the first floor for themselves. Each room is identified by color: green, blue, red, and yellow.” Jasmine opened the door to the bedroom suite at the end of the hall. “This is our yellow room.”
