Chapter 1

927 Words
Chapter 1 Drew Richards stared at the handsome, well-groomed black man talking on the cell phone in the corner of the backyard. Standing next to Drew was his best friend, Steve Llewellyn. They were at Steve’s half-brother, Nathan’s, Memorial Weekend barbecue. He took a long drag of his beer. He’d been staring at the man for pretty much the whole day. Not long ago he’d learned the man’s name, Mark Stevens. Apparently he was a lawyer with Nathan’s firm. “Drew, are you listening?” Steve asked, waving his hand in front of Drew’s face. “Sure, you were talking about Heather.” Steve was always talking about his fiancée, Heather, so he knew it was a safe guess. Steve and Heather, who basically looked like Barbie and Ken in Drew’s opinion, planned to marry in July. Steve threw him a look. “Nice try. This time, though, I was asking you about how your mom was doing.” “Oh. She’s doing pretty good, considering.” Drew’s stepfather had been diagnosed with prostate cancer recently. He was too tired from treatment these days to help with the gift shop they owned in Newport Beach, therefore, Drew was working there now. “Both of them are pretty optimistic.” “Good, I’m glad.” Steve followed his gaze. “You still watching that guy?” Drew shrugged. “Gotta look somewhere. Might as well be at him.” “Why don’t you go talk to him?” “What?” Drew looked at Steve. “Are you crazy? That guy would never talk to someone like me.” “Someone like you? What’s wrong with you?” “Well, I’m short and…and—” “Cute as a button.” Steve laughed and shoved him. “Go on, Casanova, go talk to him. Distract him from that phone. I think it’s stuck to his ear.” Drew shrugged. What did he have to lose? He handed his half-finished beer to Steve and walked across the backyard to the corner where Mark Stevens sat on a plastic patio chair. Unlike most of the other people at the barbecue who had dressed in shorts, T-shirts, and sandals, Mark wore tan slacks, a cream-colored button-down shirt, and brown loafers. He didn’t even glance Drew’s way when he approached. It gave Drew pause. Maybe this was a mistake after all. He stopped directly in front of the man and waited for him to acknowledge him. When he didn’t, Drew cleared his throat. * * * * Mark Stevens watched a young white guy cross the yard and approach him out of the corner of his eye. He had no clue what the guy wanted but he seemed rather fixated on speaking with Mark. The kid was cute in a pixie sort of way with light brown wavy hair that dropped into his eyes. He thought about pretending not to notice, but when the man cleared his throat, Mark glanced his way. He looked young, barely over twenty-one, and probably not above five foot four in his stocking feet. The eyes, what he could see of them beneath the hair, were really dark brown, even darker than his own and framed by the longest lashes he’d ever seen on a guy. “Can I help you?” he asked politely, holding his hand over the cell for a moment. “Mark, right?” He had a surprisingly deep voice for one so short and delicate looking. “Yes.” “I’m Drew Richards.” Mark nodded. “Hello. Nice to meet you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He waved his cell phone. “Go ahead and finish. I’ll wait.” Mark blinked. “Wait for what?” Drew smiled, barely showing tiny white teeth. “I’d like to talk to you.” He was drawing a complete blank. “About?” Drew indicated Mark’s cell. “You should finish your call first.” Mark frowned and lifted his phone to his ear. “Eddie, I’ll call you back in less than five minutes.” He ended the call without waiting for a response. Drew’s little smile widened. Curving upward in definite pixie fashion. “I wanted to ask you if you’d like to maybe have coffee with me one day.” “Coffee?” Mark shook his head. “I don’t think so.” Drew’s smile dropped just a bit. “You don’t like coffee?” “Sure, I like coffee fine.” “Well, then—” Mark sighed. “I don’t mean any offense, Drew, but I don’t date men outside my race.” Drew stared. “I’m sorry?” “I only date other African Americans. Nothing personal.” For a moment, he could tell he had definitely disconcerted Drew. He could almost see the wheels in the man’s mind turning. “Well, that sort of sucks, doesn’t it? Why don’t you?” Now it was Mark’s turn to have nothing to say. The truth was he didn’t date anyone. Not in a long time. Telling Drew the lie that he only dated his own race seemed to be the easiest way of getting rid of him. “It’s just the way it is,” he said, knowing he sounded pretty lame. “I see. Okay. Well, see you.” Drew looked crushed, as though he’d lost his best friend. Ridiculous, of course. But he looked so sad as he turned away that Mark couldn’t stop himself. “Coffee. Fine. Where?” Drew turned around and his eyes flashed so mischievously Mark decided he’d been had. “There’s a coffee place in Cannery Village in Newport Beach. It’s called Java Central.” “Newport Beach?” Mark frowned. “All the way down there?” Drew shrugged. “It’s near my work. How about two on Wednesday?” “In the afternoon?” The kid laughed. “Well, certainly not in the morning. Come on, Mark. You can bring your cell with you. Surely that will leave you connected to the business world.” Mark’s cell chirped to life as though the mere mention of it caused it to ring. “Hold on.” He glanced at it and answered, “Yeah, Eddie. I know. Give me a minute.” “Two on Wednesday?” Drew asked. He sighed. “All right. What’s the name of this place again?” “Java Central in Cannery Village,” Drew said, rather patiently. “Okay. See you then.” * * * * Drew returned to Steve, who was now talking to his brother, Adrian. Steve handed him back his beer and Adrian thrust a plate of burgers at him. He picked one up and took a bite before he responded to the brothers’ curious looks. “I have a coffee date on Wednesday.” “Wow, really?” Adrian asked, looking Mark’s way. “I’m impressed. Nathan and Barnaby say he’s a total workaholic.” Steve grinned. “If anyone can get him to come out of his shell it’s our Drew.” “Hardly. I was just persistent.” “We’ll see.” Steve put his hand on Drew’s shoulder. “Let’s go find Heather and see if we can get Nathan to make us his famous margaritas.”
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