Sweet Silver Bells

After several seconds Crystal realized she was staring when their eyes met and held. Even from the distance she noticed the perfection of his features.

“Good evening, neighbor,” he said.

She went completely still as a shiver of awareness swept over her body. The man’s voice was deep and as utterly sensual as he appeared to be. “Good evening,” Crystal replied, smiling.

“Are you checking in?” She nodded. Closing the distance between them, he extended his hand. “Joseph Cole-Wilson.”

Shifting the card key to her left hand, she took the large, groomed hand with long, slender fingers. “I’m Crystal.”

“It’s nice meeting you, Crystal.”

Nodding, she withdrew her hand from his loose grip. “Are you Joseph or Joe?”

He smiled, drawing Crystal’s gaze to his sensual mouth and the slight cleft in his strong chin. “I’ve always been Joseph. I’m not going to hold you up settling in, but I just want you to know I’ll be next door if you need anything.”

Crystal wanted to tell Joseph that if she did need anything, all she had to do was pick up the telephone and dial two digits. She didn’t know if Mr. Drop-Dead Sexy was attempting to come on to her, but at present his mojo definitely wasn’t working. She was much too tired to carry on an exchange of witty repartee with him, and the reason she was in Charleston took precedence over any-and everything in her life.

“Thanks, Joseph. I’m sorry, but I have to get some sleep or I’m going to fall on my face.”

Joseph’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. Light from a wall sconce illuminated the face of the tall, slender woman with the killer body. Only those in his family knew his legal name: José Ibrahim Cole-Wilson. His mother had always called him Joseph, so the name stuck.

Crystal put up her hand to smother a yawn, and it was then he noticed her exhaustion.

“I’m sorry to hold you up. Have a good evening.” That said, he turned and walked to the elevator.

Crystal stared at him until he disappeared into the car. Then she inserted the card key into the slot, waited for the green light and pushed open the door.

If the furnishings in the lobby reflected a bygone era, it was the same in the penthouse. The chairs, tables, lamps, wall mirrors in the living and dining rooms were uniquely art deco, one of her favorite decorating styles.

Dropping her handbag and tote on an oversize ottoman, she walked into a modern, state-of-the-art kitchen with double stainless steel sinks, cooktop stove, double oven, eye-level microwave, dishwasher, French-door refrigerator/freezer, trash compactor and cooking island. There was also a fully stocked wine cellar with three dozen bottles.

Crystal opened the refrigerator stocked with dairy products, the vegetable drawers with fresh fruit and salad fixings. The freezer was also filled with packaged and labeled meat. The shelves in the pantry were stocked with everything she would need for breakfast, lunch and dinner. A door off the kitchen revealed a half bath.

She continued her tour, mounting a flight of stairs, discovering two bedroom suites with adjoining baths. Each bedroom was constructed with sitting and dressing areas. Wall-to-wall silk drapes were open to offer an unobstructed view of nighttime Charleston and a lit rooftop deck.

She returned to the first floor at the same time the bell chimed throughout the apartment. She opened the door and the bellhop carried her bags up the staircase, leaving them in the hallway outside the bedrooms. He returned, gave her a slight bow and then left, closing the door behind him.

Crystal turned off all the lights on the first floor with the exception of the table lamp in the entryway. Her footsteps were slow as she climbed the staircase for the second time, wondering if she would remain awake long enough to take a shower.

After a hot shower, she crawled into bed, pulling the sheet and comforter up to her neck.

She hadn’t drawn the drapes. Daylight coming in through the windows would become her alarm clock. Eight hours of sleep would give her everything she needed to face the day and the most comprehensive commission of Eaton Interior and Design thus far.

Chapter 2

Joseph lost count of the number of times he swam the length of the Olympic-size swimming pool on the lower level of the Beaumont House. He’d also stopped cursing his cousin for banishing him to South Carolina to start up ColeDiz Tea Company, ColeDiz International Ltd.’s first U.S. mainland venture since their great-grandfather established the company ninety years ago. He was solely responsible for the oversight of the ongoing operation of the tea garden, as well.

This wasn’t his first trip to the Lowcountry. Two years ago, Joseph had met with Harry Ellis to survey one hundred acres of land between Kiawah and Edisto Islands the real estate agent had purchased on behalf of the Cole-family-owned conglomerate. Not only had Harry bought the land, but five years earlier he’d also brokered a deal with a Ugandan cotton grower for Diego, making ColeDiz the biggest family-owned agribusiness in the United States.

Subsequently an engineering company had drained the swampy area to prepare it for growing and processing tea leaves, all the while Joseph insisting they not upset the ecological balance of region’s indigenous wildlife.

He’d argued with his cousin that he was a lawyer, not a farmer, but Diego was quick to remind him that he also wasn’t a farmer, yet had familiarized himself with the entire process of growing and harvesting coffee, bananas and cotton. Joseph had been under the impression that tea wasn’t grown in the States, but Diego told him about the tea garden on Wadmalaw Island, South Carolina. Once ColeDiz Tea Company harvested their first yield, there would be not one, but two tea gardens in the United States.

It’d taken him a while, but he had adjusted to spending the last two years of his life in Belize, Mexico, Jamaica, Puerto Rico and Brazil, educating himself with the cycle of planting, cultivation, harvesting and processing coffee and bananas in order to learn everything he could about the different varieties.

It hadn’t been only about planting trees, but also soil quality, insect control and irrigation. He had logged thousands of hours in the air, crossed various time zones and grown accustomed to sleeping in strange beds and ordering room service. Several of his college buddies and fraternity brothers claimed they envied his jet-setting lifestyle, but Joseph had been quick to remind them it was work and not fun.

However, he did take time off to have some fun when he stayed with his landscape-architect cousin Regina Spencer in Bahia, Brazil. Regina and her pediatrician husband hadn’t been to Carnival in years, yet had offered to accompany him. Joseph witnessed firsthand the once-in-a-lifetime frivolity. Partying nonstop for three days offset the months, weeks, days and hours he spent learning to become a farmer.

Now he was back in Charleston to oversee the first planting of ColeDiz Tea Company’s tea garden. He’d grown fond of the incredibly beautiful historic port city and its friendly populace. He returned not as an attorney but as a farmer and an astute businessman. Although assigned to the legal department, he’d been groomed to eventually take over as CEO when Diego retired. His cousin failed to realize that Joseph preferred the legal component to running a company. Whether it was negotiating contracts or spending hours researching and interpreting international tariffs, law had become his jealous mistress.

He didn’t want to think about jealous mistresses or past relationships. His four-year liaison with Kiara Solis had run its course the third day into a two-week Hawaiian vacation when he’d tried to make the best of what had become a highly volatile situation.

Kiara had been under the impression they were going on a romantic holiday where he would propose, although he’d told her repeatedly he hadn’t been ready for marriage. At twenty-eight his life wasn’t stable. He’d just resigned his position clerking for a Florida appellate judge to join ColeDiz. He had also purchased land in Palm Beach with plans to build a home, but even that had been placed on hold until after he curtailed traveling.

Joseph’s father had lectured him about dating a woman for more than two years without committing to a future together. His father failed to understand that although he loved Kiara he hadn’t been in love with her. If he had, there was no doubt he would’ve married her.

Joseph swam the length of the pool, then pulled himself up at the shallow end. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling from the exertion. Picking up a towel from the stack on a wooden bench, he dried off before pulling on his shorts and T-shirt. Swimming was the perfect alternative to sitting up watching late-night infomercials.

Joseph walked to the bank of elevators. Living in the penthouse wasn’t a perk but a requisite befitting his lifestyle. He’d grown up privileged, and having the best life had to offer was something for which he never apologized. As a Cole and a member of the purportedly wealthiest African-American family in the country, he accepted everything that went along with the distinction.

Kiara had called him a “spoiled rich boy” and a few other epithets that he would never repeat to anyone, and it was her vicious and spiteful outburst that reminded him why he’d been reluctant to ask her to marry him. It hadn’t been the first time Kiara had gone off on him when she couldn’t get her way, but it was the last time Joseph decided to turn the other cheek. Although laid-back and easygoing, he wasn’t a masochist.

He was certain his parents had had their disagreements, yet he couldn’t remember a time he was privy to them. Joseph shook his head as he stepped out of the elevator car, and walked to his apartment, unlocking the door. He vowed to remain single until he met the woman with whom he felt he wanted to spend his life. After all, he was only thirty and in no immediate hurry to settle down and start a family.

Climbing the staircase to the second level, he stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a hamper, and then stepped into the shower. By the time Joseph got into bed, he had mentally prepared himself to oversee the project he’d been entrusted with. Despite his initial objection to setting up a tea garden, he knew failure was not an option.

* * *

Crystal woke rested and clearheaded. Her appointment with Algernon was scheduled for nine in the hotel restaurant; he’d informed her they would meet with the contractor in downtown Charleston to inspect the interiors of the recently restored properties.

When she first came to see the abandoned buildings, she’d found herself hard-pressed to contain her excitement. Despite the faded, peeling wallpaper, warped floors, weakened window sashes and the pervasive odor of mold, she was able to imagine the beauty and elegance of the renovated spaces. Algernon, or Al, as he insisted she call him, wanted the interior to replicate the furnishings of 1800s Lowcountry city residences.

After brewing a cup of coffee, she unpacked, putting everything away, then stepped into the Jacuzzi for a leisurely soak. The hands on the clock on the bathroom’s vanity had inched closer to eight-fifteen when she stepped out of the tub. At eight forty-five she entered the restaurant off the hotel lobby, the hostess greeting her with a friendly smile.

“Good morning, ma’am. Are you a guest?”

Crystal nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“What is your room number?”

“I’m in penthouse two.”

The hostess punched several keys on a computer. “Ms. Eaton?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I have an appointment to meet Mr. Beaumont here at nine.”

“Ms. Eaton, I don’t know if anyone told you, but as an elite guest you’ll take your meals in the private dining room. Mr. Beaumont will meet you there.” The young woman motioned to a passing waiter. “Patrick, please escort Ms. Eaton to Mr. Beaumont’s table.”

Crystal followed the waiter to the rear of the restaurant and to a door with a plaque reading Elite Hotel Guests Only. The space was half the size of the restaurant for other hotel guests and the general public, and furnished in the manner of a formal dining room with cloth-covered tables and place settings of china, silver and crystal. Classical music flowed from hidden speakers as waitstaff moved silently, efficiently picking up and setting down dishes.

She thanked the waiter when he pulled out a chair at a table in an alcove, seating her at the same time her cell phone chimed softly. Reaching into her handbag, Crystal retrieved the phone and glanced at the display. It was Algernon. Tapping in her pass code, she answered the call.

“Good morning, Al.”

“Crystal. I’m glad I reached you. I rang your room, but it went directly to voice mail. I’m on my way to the airport to catch a flight to Vancouver. My daughter was injured on a movie set, and even though I’m told it isn’t serious, I need to see her. I’m not certain when I’ll be back, but I’ll keep you updated. I’m sorry you had to come and—”

“Please don’t apologize,” Crystal said, interrupting him. “Take care of your daughter and don’t worry about me. I’ll be here when you get back. The last time I was in Charleston I didn’t get to do much sightseeing, so I intend to tour the city until you return.”

“Thanks, Crystal, for being so understanding.”

“Have a safe flight and I’ll see you when you get back.”

She ended the call, exhaling an audible sigh. Although anxious to see the restored buildings, Crystal also understood an unexpected personal predicament. And taking care of your family always took precedence over everything. There were Eatons living in different parts of the country, but whenever there was a significant occasion, they all came together as one whether it in sickness, tragedy, marriage or a new birth.

She’d attended so many weddings over the years Crystal needed a scorecard to document which first cousin had married whom. It began with Belinda marrying her brother-in-law sports attorney/agent, Griffin Rice. Belinda and Griffin had become guardians of their twin nieces after the death of their parents, who were Belinda’s sister and Griffin’s brother. Belinda made Griffin a biological father for the first time after giving birth to a baby boy.

The marriage bug then bit Belinda’s brother, Myles, when he married his ex-fiancée after a ten-year separation. Myles hadn’t known Zabrina was pregnant with his son, because she’d been blackmailed into marrying another man. They added to another generation of Eatons with a daughter.

Myles and Belinda’s sister Chandra married celebrated playwright Preston Tucker, and they were now the parents of a daughter, and Xavier and his wife, Selena, also had a daughter. All the Eatons were wagering whether Denise and Mia and their husbands would have boys once they decided to increase their family, because it looked as if girls were outnumbering boys in the latest generation of Eatons.

Crystal still did not picture herself a wife or a mother. The closest she’d come to a committed relationship was when she lived with a man after enrolling in graduate school. Her parents disapproved of her living or shacking up with a man, because they claimed they’d raised her better than that.

Jasmine lamented, why would the man want to buy the cow when he could get the milk free? Her comeback was that she didn’t want to be bought, because her goals did not include becoming a wife.

Her relationship with Brian worked well; he also didn’t want to marry or father children. As a child he’d been physically abused by his parents, spent years in foster care and feared he would turn out like them. He and Crystal had lived together for three years before Brian was offered a teaching position at a Los Angeles college. Crystal encouraged him to accept the position, and after graduating she gave up their miniscule New York City Greenwich Village studio apartment and moved back to Florida.

She lived with her mother until she secured employment with a Miami-based design firm. Once she transferred to their Fort Lauderdale office, she purchased a two-bedroom condo in a gated community.

Living alone was a wake-up call that she was in complete control of her life and future.

She beckoned a waiter as he finished filling a water goblet at a nearby table. “Is it possible for me to change tables? Mr. Beaumont won’t be joining me.” Crystal didn’t want to sit in the grotto-inspired alcove alone.

The waiter glanced around the room. “There’s an empty table near the window.”

Crystal nodded. “I’ll take it.”

It wasn’t until she was seated near a wall of glass that she saw her penthouse neighbor. Joseph sat at a table several feet away. Their eyes met and she returned his open, friendly smile with one of her own.

“Good morning, neighbor,” Joseph said in greeting.

Her smile grew wider. “Same to you, neighbor.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Yes, I did. Thank you for asking.”

Joseph stared boldly at the woman, who’d exchanged her jeans and sweater for a navy blue pantsuit and white silk blouse. A light covering of makeup enhanced her best features: eyes and mouth. His gaze lingered on Crystal’s flawless dark complexion. He took a quick glance at her hands. She wasn’t wearing a ring, but that still didn’t mean she wasn’t married or involved with someone.

His interest in the woman occupying the neighboring penthouse was a reminder of how, for the past two years, his life had not been his own to control. He hadn’t found time to embark on another relationship since his breakup with Kiara, but now that he was stateside his days and nights were more predictable.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked Crystal.

“No, I’m not. Why?”

“I see several people waiting for tables, and if we sit together, it would free up one for them.”

Crystal’s gaze shifted from Joseph’s deeply tanned face to the couples standing at the entrance. She was seated at a table for two while he sat at a table seating four. “You may sit with me.”

As he moved over to sit opposite her, Crystal inhaled the subtle scent of his masculine cologne. It was if she were seeing Joseph for the first time. Last night she hadn’t realized he was so tall. She was five-nine in her bare feet, and estimated he had to be at least three or even four inches above the six-foot mark. He was casually dressed in relaxed jeans, black Timberland boots and a white button-down shirt, opened at the collar under a navy blue blazer.

The hint of a smile softened her mouth. “I see you’re Greek.”

Attractive lines fanned out around his large dark eyes when he smiled. “Alpha Phi Alpha,” he said proudly, glancing at his belt buckle with the Greek alphabet. “Are you also Greek?”

Crystal nodded slowly. “Alpha Kappa Alpha.”

Joseph smile grew wider. “Well, Miss AKA, where did you go to school?”

“Howard. And you?”

“Cornell.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “So you’re an Ivy Leaguer. I’m impressed.” It wasn’t often she met many African-American men who’d attended Ivy League colleges. Most she knew had enrolled in historically black colleges. “Are you active?” she asked Joseph.

He flashed a set of straight white teeth. “Active and financial.” Since his return to the States, Joseph had rejoined his local chapter. He planned to drive to West Palm Beach one weekend each month to attend chapter meetings.

Crystal glanced at a spot over Joseph’s broad shoulder. She didn’t want him to think her rude for staring. Despite the stubble on his lean jaw, there was something about his features that made Joseph almost too pretty to be a man. “I’m financial but inactive. Unfortunately,” she admitted, “I don’t have the time to attend my chapter meetings.”

“Where is your chapter?”

“Miami.”

Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So you’re a Gator.”

Crystal wasn’t able to discern from Joseph’s expression whether he was being derisive or complimentary. “Is there something wrong with being a Gator?” she asked defensively.

“Hell no, because you’re looking at a fellow Gator. Palm Beach,” he said before she could ask.

She laughed softly. “It looks as if we’re truly neighbors in every sense of the word.” Crystal paused, and then asked, “What are you doing in Charleston?”

Joseph picked up the menu, studying the selections rather than looking at Crystal. He’d never been one to engage in what he deemed inane repartee in order to glean information from a woman, yet that was exactly what he was doing with Crystal.

“I’m here on business.”

“So am I,” Crystal concurred.

He glanced up, meeting her direct stare. “It appears we have a lot in common. We’re both Greek, Floridians and we’re in Charleston on business.”

“That’s three for three.”

Joseph angled his head. “What about your marital status?”

“What about it?” she asked, answering his question with one of her own.

“Are you single?”

“I’m single and unencumbered.”

A beat passed. “Is that the same as not having any children?” Joseph asked

“It is.”

He went completely still. “That’s four for four.”

“What else do you want to know about me, Joseph?”

There was another pause before he asked, “How long do you plan to be here on business?”

“I estimate a couple of months.”

The slow smile that spread over his features did not reach his eyes. Joseph thought about the odds of meeting a woman, an incredibly beautiful woman who was staying in the same hotel as his, on the same floor and with whom he shared much in common. If he’d signed up with an online dating service, Crystal would’ve been the perfect candidate. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, but friendship—something he hadn’t had in a while.

And for him it had never been about how many women he could sleep with, because there had been more than he could count or remember who were more than willing to become his dessert after he’d taken them to dinner. He didn’t know why, but Joseph always thought about his sister and the lengths he would go to if some man sought to take advantage of her. His mantra of protect a woman as if she were your sister was never that far from his mind, and he knew that was why he’d continued to stay in his past relationship longer than necessary.

“Five for five,” Joseph drawled. He’d planned to live at the hotel for the next four months; the tea garden’s manager who was overseeing wanted to return to Nebraska with his wife, where she would give birth to their first child.

Crystal smiled as she glanced at the menu. It appeared as if she had more in common with Joseph than she’d had with Brian. The man with whom she’d lived eschewed fraternities and sororities, claiming they were socialized cults. The subject always started an argument where they wouldn’t speak for days. It wasn’t their only disagreement, but it was one subject she refused to allow him to vilify. Her mother had been an AKA and her mother before her.

Her stomach rumbled loudly and she hoped Joseph hadn’t heard it. She motioned to a waitress standing several feet away. “I’m ready to order now. I’ll have grits with soft scrambled eggs and one slice of buttered wheat toast.”

The waitress scribbled on her pad. “Would you like coffee, tea or juice, ma’am?”

Crystal closed the binder. “I’d like green tea and grapefruit juice.” Joseph had just given the woman his order when an ear-shattering piercing sound reverberated throughout the room.

The waitress slipped her pad into the pocket of her apron. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave the hotel. That’s the fire alarm.”

As if on cue, everyone began filing out, Joseph reaching for Crystal’s free hand as she gripped her handbag with the other. Hotel personnel were escorting guests down the staircases, because the elevators were shut down, through the lobby and out to the parking lot. The wail of sirens in the distance came closer and closer. Members of the police and fire departments were now on the scene, urging everyone to leave the parking lot and move across the street.