Always My Baby. Martha Kennerson
cell phone rang. “Excuse me.” She fished her phone out of her purse, read the screen and sent the caller to voice mail before setting it facedown on the table. “Well, actually—”
“Two house salads with chicken,” the waiter said, placing plates in front of them both. “Can I get you anything else?”
Jackson gestured with his hand for China to speak first. “No, everything looks great. Thank you,” she said, reaching for her utensils.
Jackson nodded his agreement and started cutting into his salad. “You were saying...”
China held up her right index finger, as she had just placed a forkful of food into her mouth. “Dating has never been a priority. I wanted to focus on my career. I guess I got that from my mother.”
“You didn’t share much about your family in your profile questionnaire. I know there’s more to your story than just being an only child raised by a single military mother,” Jackson said, giving her a knowing look.
China groaned. “Are you sure you want to hear my sad, yet not so sad, story?”
“We’re supposed to be getting to know each other, remember?” Jackson picked up his bread and took a bite.
“My parents met when they were in their twenties and stationed in Paris.”
“Sounds romantic.” He took a drink from his glass.
“According to my mom, it was, and very much forbidden.” China took another bite of her salad.
“Why, because they were a mixed couple?”
“No, because the military has rules against fraternizing, no matter what color you are,” she said, wiping her mouth with the extra napkins on the table. “They had a brief relationship before they were stationed in different parts of the world.”
“So, what happened? Your mother got pregnant and had to raise you on her own?” he incorrectly guessed.
“They both followed their dreams down very different paths. My father retired after providing twenty-five years of service and went into politics, while my mother went on to become a three-star general.”
“Wow, impressive parents.”
China nodded. “My mother was a very impressive woman.”
“Your father, too,” Jackson said as if she needed to be reminded.
“I guess.” China took another sip of her drink while she checked the time on her phone.
“You have someplace to be?” Jackson took a bite of his food.
“I have a press conference in about an hour.” China used her fingers to pop a piece of chicken into her mouth.
“When did you come into the picture?”
“Twenty years after they first met, they ran into each other again at a military conference. And—”
“Sparks flew and nine months later you were born,” he concluded.
He sure is a romantic. “Something like that, only having a kid so late in life wasn’t something either of them expected. My mother was thrilled because she didn’t think she’d ever have a child. My father, on the other hand, not so much.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his brows furrowed. “Did you see him growing up?”
“No.” China had to fight back the sense of loss from not having a father in her life that tended to sneak up on her at the worst times. “He offered financial support but didn’t think contact was necessary. So it was just me and Mom. While it was hard sometimes, I loved every minute I had with her.”
“What do you mean ‘hard’?”
China picked up her phone, read the screen and sent Alexander’s second call to voice mail. China’s first instinct was to answer Alexander’s call like always and accept whatever ridiculous excuse he had for interrupting her lunch and run to his side. She wanted to do that more than ever but she knew she had to move forward.
“Mom had me in her late forties, making her much older than most of my friends’ parents. Between the physical aspect of her job taking a toll on her body and having to spend so much time in the harsh sun, my mother’s skin wrinkled...a lot. A number of times she was mistaken for my grandmother instead of my mother.” China’s mind flashed back to when she was fifteen and had made all types of excuses to her mother as to why she never had friends over or went to sleepovers herself. How she just found it easier to let people think she lived with an overprotective grandmother rather than deal with her own feelings of insecurity about her mother. China brushed away a lone tear.
“Are you okay?” Concern overtook his face.
“Yes. It’s been nearly eight years since she passed, and I still miss her so much.” China’s voice cracked.
“I understand,” Jackson said.
“Enough about me, your turn.” China took a final bite of her food.
“What do you want to know—more about my family or my dating life?” he asked, pushing his empty plate aside.
China glanced at her watch. “Well, since I’m going to have to leave for my press conference soon, how about you tell me a little more about your dating preferences?”
Jackson grinned. “Finding women to date has never been an issue. Finding the right one is another story.”
“What’s your definition of Miss Right?”
Jackson used his napkin to wipe his mouth before placing it on the table. He gifted her with a sexy smile and said, “She’s a strong and very beautiful woman. Fiercely independent and knows what she wants. Not to mention she loves chicken salad and Arnold Palmers.”
A slow smile spread across China’s face. I wonder what Alexander’s definition of Miss Right would be, if he even wanted one. Stop it! If you want this to work, you’ve got to move past these feelings for Alexander. “How about dinner tonight at my place?” she invited a grinning Jackson.
* * *
Alexander sat at his desk, reading over his statement for the press conference, but he was finding it hard to concentrate. He picked up his phone and called China’s number, only to be sent to voice mail a second time. “Dammit!”
“What’s wrong?” Brice asked, walking into Alexander’s office. “Or should I say, what else is wrong?”
“Nothing. Have you found the so-called pile of money I’m supposed to have saved and funneled off somewhere?” His anger was unmasked.
“Of course not,” Brice said, his eyebrows coming together. “A, you get that we all know you had nothing to do with any of this, right?”
“Have you figured out how we can prove that?” he snapped back.
“Not yet,” Brice said, crossing his arms.
“Then what the hell are you doing in here?” he asked. “Get back to work.”
Brice got up, walked to the door and closed it. He turned and faced his brother. “What the hell is wrong with you, and who do you think you’re talking to?”
Alexander stood and came from around his desk to stand toe-to-toe with Brice. “I’m talking to you...little brother.” His voice had a sharp edge to it.
“I’m not too little to kick your butt,” Brice said with a raised chin.
The two men stood staring each other down for several seconds. Alexander pushed out a breath and dropped his shoulders. He ran his right hand through his hair. “Sorry, man.” Alexander returned to his desk and sat down.
“What’s going on with you? This can’t just be about the EPA coming after us.” Brice took a seat in a chair across from