Bittersweet Chocolate (36 page)

“I hope fraternal. Identical are usually the same sex, aren’t they? Wouldn’t it be perfect if we had a boy and a girl?”

Instead of answering his question, she changed the subject to the nagging unease about the phone calls and the unlocked door. “Tris, when I came home today, the phone rang, and I picked up, but no one said anything. I swear I could hear breathing. And while I changed to take my shower, I thought I heard a door close, came out to check...nothing, no one there.” She stared at the front door. “But the front door was unlocked. Do you remember, about four months ago, the same thing happened? Maybe we need new locks.”

“Hmm, I remember you mentioning the door. I thought the lock business had something to do with the realtors,” he commented. “After I spoke to the management company, when you didn’t mention any more incidents, I let it drop.” He shrugged. “I don’t recall you talking about the phone call.”

“We had just found out about my pregnancy, it must have slipped my mind.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. The calls were probably a wrong number. I’ll see to the locks first thing tomorrow.”

“Wake up, Rissa,” he whispered close to her ear.

She opened one eye, then the other. Both eyes widened as she sat up. Looking at the lap tray he held, she groaned. “Tris, I already weigh a ton. You’re feeding me too much.”

“Considering you’re carrying twins, you haven’t gained that much weight.”

“I’m a little hungry, but not all that.” She pointed at a tray loaded with bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, grits, toast, slices of honeydew melon, and tea. “Is some of that for you?”

“Not.” He laughed and watched her get out of bed.

She sauntered across the room, the bewitching sway of her ass visible through the sheer fabric of the skimpy negligee, uh-uh. If his thoughts kept going in that direction, he’d never leave the room. Marissa returned, her smile indulgent as she let him fuss over her while he helped her settle on the bed.

“I have to run some errands.” He adjusted the legs on the tray and placed it straddling her thighs. “We need new locks and more food, just pantry items. I’ll take care of everything today.”

“If I’m not here when you return, I’ll be running a few errands.”

“Hey, if you’re going out, let’s meet somewhere for lunch. About one o’clock?”

“Market Broiler and it’s a date.”

He brushed a kiss across her lips and hurried out of there before he changed his mind.

* * * *

She took her time finishing her breakfast, savoring the last of her chamomile tea while she formulated her plans for the day. After she washed and dressed, she’d go shopping for more baby clothes, doubling her efforts.

Setting the tray aside, she scooted off the bed, went into the bathroom, and stepped into the shower, humming and smiling. Should one person be so happy, and fortunate? She stood with her back to the water, rubbing the soapy washcloth across her abdomen. Back in the day, she’d dreamt of only having two children. Now, the thought of having twins—despite the warm water, she shivered, a sickening premonition of unease overshadowing her happiness.

Uh-uh, not happening today.

She shook off her disquiet, exited the shower, and dressed in a pair of dark gray maternity slacks, a loose, light gray top, and white sandals. While brushing her hair, she made mental notes of baby items she’d have to duplicate. She checked the front door lock before heading out to the garage. Sliding behind the wheel of her car, she drove away, headed for Harris’ Department store in the Riverside Plaza. She’d practically been living there since discovering she was pregnant.

Satisfied with her purchases, she was on her way to the car when she noticed the gun shop, across the way on Merrill Street, not that it hadn’t always been there. But today, the sign seemed to jump out at her. She attributed today’s awareness to the sense of unease about the incidents of the unlocked door and the phone calls. Hey, since her voodoo psyche still didn’t provide super powers, maybe she needed a physical assist to ward off bad karma.

But a gun around the babies.

A disturbing thought, but unlocked doors, mysterious phone calls, and reemergence of the dreams bothered her more. Brushing qualms aside, she went into the shop. Just to look around.

At one o’clock she hurried to meet Tristan at the Market Broiler restaurant. The gun shop had taken up more time than she had intended. Hell. It had been a long time since she’d had an interest in any type of weapon, except the switchblade she always carried. Things had come a long way since back when. Today, there were too many choices―types of weapons and models.

She rushed into Market Broiler, feeling hungry, like she hadn’t eaten all day.

“Hi, little mother,” Vi greeted her with a hug.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Marissa scooted into the booth, next to Tristan.

“I ran into Tristan at Albertson’s. What have you been up to?”

“Buying more baby clothes.”

Tristan leaned over and kissed her. “I bought the new locks.”

Vi looked quizzically from Marissa to Tristan. “New locks?”

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, I’m starved.” Tristan blinked with surprise and Marissa chuckled. “I know, earlier, I complained about the amount of food you’ve been trying to make me eat. Chalk it up to pregnancy turning me into a mass of contradictions.”

Marissa and Tristan ordered rainbow trout, rice pilaf, steamed broccoli, and iced tea. Vi ordered the shrimp and chips, corn on the cob, and iced tea. As soon as the waiter walked away, Marissa turned to Tristan. “How about we get a dog?”

“How about we find that bigger house, first?” he responded.

She giggled. “Did you tell Vi our good news?”

“No, I thought you’d like to tell her and put her mind at ease.” Remembering what Tristan had said about Vi’s concerns, Marissa gazed at her friend.

“Okay, don’t keep me in suspense. Let’s hear it,” Vi prompted.

“We’re going to have twins.”

Vi gawked.

“Close your mouth, Vi,” Marissa and Tristan spoke in unison, then they laughed. It seemed they were saying those words to Vi a lot lately.

The waiter arrived with their food and they remained quiet until he left. “Okay, back to both of you,” Vi remarked. “In the last couple of months, I’ve had more surprises to deal with in your lives, than I’ve had my entire life. You’re a constant source of entertainment. What’s next?” She looked at Tristan. “And you, you’re really doing this with purpose.”

Tristan grinned and turned to Marissa. “Why a dog?”

“I considered a gun, but a dog would be safer to have around.”

“Whoa, girlfriend,” Vi interrupted. “What’s going on? A gun, dogs, new locks?”

“Twice in the last six months, one of us has found the front door unlocked,” Tristan said.

“Hence, new locks and the reason for the questions about a dog,” Marissa remarked, picking up the threads of conversation. “We haven’t reported it to the police, because we’re not sure one of us didn’t leave the door unlocked inadvertently.”

“Get a dog,” Vi stated.

“We don’t have time to train a dog,” Tristan grumbled.

“Uh, Tris, I’ve been thinking about taking some time off until the twins are born, to look for a larger house, fix up a room for the babies,” Marissa said. “I’d have time to housebreak the dogs.”

“Now wait one happy damn minute, Marissa. Where did dogs come into this? I thought we were discussing a dog, as in one,” he complained.

“We’ll need one for each kid. Don’t you agree, Vi?”

“Uh-uh, leave me out of this family discussion.”

“Oh no, Auntie Vi, you’re as much a part of this family as anyone,” Tristan insisted.

Marissa burst out laughing at the comical expressions on Vi’s face. First, a look of surprise, then pleasure flitted across her features when Tristan called her auntie.

“Seriously, Tris, I’d like to get two Dobermans. I’ll train them before the babies are born.”

“Dobermans? Come on, Rissa, if you weren’t pregnant, you wouldn’t be bringing this up. You know I can’t refuse you anything at this time.”

“How bogus,” Vi piped in. “You couldn’t refuse her anything before she became pregnant.”

“Too true,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Vi looked at Marissa and smirked.

“Okay.” Tristan sighed. “Two Dobies, no guns.”

Finished with their meals, after walking Vi to her car, Marissa and Tristan visited several pet shops, but Marissa couldn’t find what she wanted.

Tristan blurted out, “What are you looking for?”

“I think I’ll call around to those dog adoption agencies, or the save the pet societies. I want two red Dobermans, about six months to a year old,” she replied. “Easily trainable at that age, they’ll be big enough to act as a deterrent for anyone trying to get into the house, and mature enough to handle sharing our attention with the babies.”

“You’ll be handling most of the training, do whatever fits into your schedule.”

With the decision made, Marissa sighed and put her arm around his waist. Draping his arm across her shoulders, they strolled toward their cars.

“Megan, would you place an advertisement in the local newspaper for me,” Marissa said as soon as her secretary arrived at work on Monday morning. After explaining what she wanted, she said, “And check the classifieds to see if any of the pet societies have ads for what I need.”

“Like those adoption ads?” Megan asked.

“Yeah, but only for Dobermans.”

She made sure Megan understood exactly what she wanted, before she picked up the phone and dialed Matthew’s extension. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“Come in,” Matthew called out.

He was leaning back in his chair, watching her approach as she entered. Even in her advanced state of pregnancy, he sat there observing her in that lecherous way he had back in the day. She refused to react to his current lascivious gaze, just as she’d ignored most of his snide comments.

“I’m going to start my leave of absence next week.” That snapped him out of his ogling. She reached over, placed the leave form on his desk, and waited. There! A flicker, gone in a flash, politely masked behind one of his hypocritical smiles. No wonder people said the eyes were the windows to the soul.

“I’m sure Megan will be able to handle everything. How about having lunch with me today?”

“No thanks, I’m having lunch with my husband.”

“Oh, do I finally get to meet the man?”

She had started toward the door, and all but skidded to a halt turning to face him, her narrow-eyed gaze fixed on his. Would he never change? The same stupid ass innuendo and she’d had enough. He would meet Tristan today, which should wipe the smirk from his face. If that didn’t put a stop to his stupidity, when she returned from maternity leave, she’d take the issue to management.

“Matthew.” She sighed. “What is your problem? You can’t be dumb enough to carry a grudge about something so inconsequential,” she mocked. “If you are, think back. I’m the one who should be pissed. You hit me.” She started to leave, but paused. “Oh yeah, you’ll get to meet my husband today.” She left.

Tristan had expressed an interest in meeting Matthew. Said he wanted to make it clear she belonged to him. Grinning, she exited the office, knowing Matthew didn’t have a clue that Tristan was Caucasian, or taller, a lot younger, totally buff, and gorgeous. She liked this game.

Whoa, back this ride up.

Starting to sound like she was reverting to the mindset of that overconfident young woman she used to be, and she knew how that ended. She hadn’t meant to go there, except Matthew’s presence seemed to be a trigger mechanism, prompting her to relapse to type.

Her maternity leave, a welcome relief from the man, couldn’t start soon enough.

Tristan arrived just before one o’clock, came into her office, pulled her close, and gave her a quick kiss. “Okay, let’s go meet mister man,” he joked. But then, in his best no-nonsense voice, he said, “You are going to leave me alone with him for a few minutes, right?”

Yeah right, pregnant, not crazy.

She scrutinized his features for a few seconds before responding. “That depends. You’re not planning anything physical, as in hurting him, are you?”

“What, me...a civilized white boy, fighting? Rissa, pul-
lease,
I’m shocked you’d think that of me. I’d never.”

“You lie like a rug.” She giggled. The youngest, claiming runt-of-the-family status with five older brothers, she doubted he was a stranger to fighting. Hell. Over six feet, powerful physique, his presence was intimidating.

Tristan followed her to Matthew’s office. She knocked and waited for a response.

“Come in.”

Matthew hung up the phone as they entered. She probed his features as she approached his desk. His face registered his pleasure as his gaze ranged over her body, before he stared at a point beyond her shoulder. His expression changed from delight to astonishment, dissipating to anger as he bounded to his feet. Even with his degree of arrogance, he had to recognize sitting put him at a disadvantage.

Marissa wanted to laugh. Instead she made the introductions and watched the two men shake hands. Matthew tried to maintain a front of amiability. Tristan shook Matthew’s hand and sized him up with a look that dismissed him as insignificant. She wanted to applaud. Without a doubt, she just witnessed another side of her husband’s personality that she never knew existed. Must be the professional Tristan look, and even a conceited ass like Matthew had to recognize it as disdain.

Matthew’s control slipped when she turned to leave. “Wait a minute, Marissa. I want to talk to you.”

Tristan pulled her close and whispered against her ear, “I’ll wait in your office.” Adding fuel to the fire, he kissed her. His look contemptuous, he glanced at Matthew, nodded, and left the office.

Damn, Tristan was good. Until today, she had considered herself the master of the put down look. He could give her lessons. She turned to Matthew. His obvious rage barely under control, she struggled to contain a smile, remained quiet, and waited for him to say something.