Solomon chuckled. “Sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender.
“I’m actually doing this for you, remember, Mr. I-Need-To-Cancel-Our-Time-Together-For-An-Important-Meeting.”
He flinched. Kenya instantly regretted her teasing words and the way they seemed to dim his jovial mood.
“You’re right, please continue. I will remain silent.”
Oh, but she didn’t want him to. She wanted him to laugh and to speak the words that set off colors in her head, to continue to sit next to her. Rehab and meetings, meh, what did they compare to raw connection?
“Yes, okay, so the gardens have an excellent caterer, but we can also get quotes from several others, including Plantain and Pies. I suggest forming a specific menu so that those food items stay consistent and on theme. Additionally, we can make this more of an experience by having tables strategically placed in different areas of the garden so that the guests can take in the surroundingsas well as different foods. So, there you have it. I know that this is a simplified example, but I created this.” She handed him the portfolio. “You can look through it and see all of the colors and themes. Once you confirm everything, I can hit the ground running—”
He grunted, looking pointedly at her ankle.
“You know what I mean!” She clicked off her tablet. “Your parents will have the most beautiful renewal party, and you will be the most loved and treasured eldest son of them all.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “Well,Iam sure. You’re an incredible man and, I’m confident, a treasured son.” Kenya moved to stand.
He stood too and once again placed his hand on her arm. But before she could take another step, he remained next to her, his grip loosening, moving as if to hold her arm, her hand. He stopped himself before he reached her fingers and released her. He clasped his hands behind his back.
“Thank you, Kenya. Your words...” He lifted the folder. “And this ... mean a lot.”
With that, he turned on his heel and headed toward his car. Her five-minute timer went off, the soundtrack to the racing of her ridiculous heart.
SOLOMON STEPPEDinto the doors of the bistro, chiding himself for the nervousness he felt.
He glanced around the room, too distracted to take in the elements of the restaurant that usually set him at ease. He found his brother on the far side of the first dining room sitting at a high-top table in the corner, his laptop open, face determined.
“Table for one?” A young woman at the front approached him, tablet in hand.
Solomon shook his head and pointed toward the end of the room. “I’m here to meet my brother. He’s there in the corner.”
Her smile was pleasant. “Perfect, sir. What drink can I get started for you?”
Kenya’s face drifted before his thoughts then. Her grin, sunshine piercing through the ominous clouds he sensed, somehow easing his tension, giving him boldness that he didn’t know he needed.
“Do you guys serve ginger ale?”
The hostess nodded. “We sure do. I will have your waiter send one your way.”
“Thank you.”
He walked toward the high-top. “Simon, hey.”
His brother looked up, his mild expression masking the glint Solomon noticed in his eyes. Simon closed his laptop and tucked it into the leather messenger bag hanging on a rack beside him. “Thank you for coming, Solomon.”
“Of course.”
“Hope you didn’t have to move too many things around.”
Solomon sat down. He shifted the cloth napkin and opened the menu.
“Just one.” He didn’t need to go into how much he looked forward to his time with Kenya. But the way Simon sounded, he probably didn’t think what Solomon did was significant anyway.
Solomon cleared his throat and looked up. “What’s this about?”
Simon exhaled. “I don’t plan for this to take long. I’ve got another meeting in an hour.” He paused as a waiter set the soda down on the table.
