Finding Love At Life's Crossroads: An Interracial Novel Read online

  Title Page

  FINDING LOVE

  AT LIFE’S

  CROSSROADS

  An Interracial Novel

  BY

  SKYLAR WARD

  Text Copyright © 2017 by Skylar Ward

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination and experiences or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Contents

  Title Page

  Text Copyright © 2017 by Skylar Ward

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  PART II

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  PART III

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Other books by Skylar Ward

  Acknowledgment

  Chapter 1

  Weston, Massachusetts—March 2011

  The day was solemn. Nonetheless, Ace Davenport was grateful for his friends who had once again made the pilgrimage to memorialize his loved ones. Lifting himself to his full six feet, five inches height, Ace ran his hands through his blond hair and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

  On the surface, his black, two-button custom-made suit, pristine white shirt, and vibrant navy-striped tie projected an image of the successful executive he was. In fact, he was almost the picture of perfection, had it not been for the dull, blue eyes that had taken up residence in his face. Ace veered away from the floor-length mirror, and his eyes swept over the empty bed. He heaved a long, impatient sigh.

  “Jodi, my love,” he whispered. “I would trade my possessions to see your smiling face.”

  Unable to focus on the bed without feeling the ache in his soul, Ace hurried from the bedroom and made his way to the third floor where he entered the home library. The spacious room used to be his sanctuary. Now, it was one of many empty spaces in the sprawling mansion which boasted an in-ground heated pool, outdoor tennis court, artist’s studio, and a separate caretaker’s abode.

  Ace removed his jacket and hung it on the antique hand-carved wooden coat rack. He rotated his neck from side-to-side, hoping to ease the tension in his body. The task seemed counterproductive, so he gave up and strolled over to the wall of windows. Today, however not even the lush, verdant evergreens held his attention.

  “This place is too large for one person. No individual can do such a house justice. This home craves chatter. Kids running around with parents chasing after them,” Ace whispered.

  He stepped away from the windows. Such self-talk, made him feel as though he had abandoned his family. And he wasn’t ready to do that—not by a long shot. He lowered his long frame into the chair behind the desk and lovingly stroked his thumb over a picture of his wife’s smiling face. He picked up the frame, studying her image, even though her likeness had been indelibly stamped on his brain.

  “Thirty-five,” he said to himself. “Thirty-five freckles.”

  Jodi was not magazine beautiful. If truth be told, most of his friends had been surprised he had chosen her, instead of some head-turner of a runway model. However, to Ace, Jodi was lovely and had a kind soul. As he continued to stare at the photograph, his eyes misted. Ace put the photo back in the same spot.

  Where did the time go? he wondered. Three years, yet it felt like time had stood still. Folks were forever telling him, ‘Time heals.’ If Ace were a betting man, he would have wagered those people didn’t have a damn thing in their lives that needed healing.

  Ace loosened his tie and closed his eyes. At 33-years-old, he had done more than most people do in their lifetime. He wanted to immerse himself once more into the joys of life, if only he knew where to start. A sharp knock on the door roused him from his introspections.

  “Come in!” Ace called out.

  Drew Palmer, Ace’s friend of over twenty years, and Chief Operating Officer of Ace’s hotel conglomerate entered. Often referred to as the Viking gods by their buddies, Ace and Drew looked strikingly similar.

  “I thought I would find you here,” Drew said, his suit on par with the one Ace wore. “Everyone is gathered in the ballroom awaiting your appearance.”

  Ace merely nodded.

  Drew sat in one of the chairs before Ace’s desk. “You should eat something. The food is excellent.”

  “I’ll get something later,” Ace said.

  “I wish I could believe you. You’re down at least twenty pounds, and you weren’t overweight, to begin with.”

  Ace looked at Drew, his athletic, high-spirited friend. Glancing at himself, he grimaced. There was a time when he, too, made time for his workouts. Now, he couldn’t remember the last time he had visited the downstairs gym.

  At 34-years-old, Drew had remained single and hadn’t been in a serious relationship with anyone for more than a year as far as Ace could remember. Therefore, the likelihood that Drew understood his pain was slim.

  “I’m all right,” Ace finally said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Drew pushed his blond cowlick off his forehead. “Come on, Ace, it’s been too damn long, guy. You have to snap out of this.”

  “Why do I have to put a moratorium on my grief? It’s my pain. I will decide if I want to snap out of it, no one else—only me.”

  “This is the third one,” Drew said. “How many more of these memorials do you plan to keep?”

  Having traveled the world together and gone on more doubl
e-dates than he could count, Ace knew Drew meant well.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Ace said. “However, when it comes to my affairs with Jodi, those are off-limits.”

  Drew slammed his hand on the desk. “We are all concerned about you, Ace. Your friends and family are tiptoeing around you, afraid to confront you. You are not doing yourself any favors, and you certainly aren’t doing Jodi any. Do you think she would want you to live like this?”

  Bile rose in Ace’s throat. He swallowed sending his Adam’s apple into a shimmy. “Don’t you dare come in here and try to trivialize what I have gone through. Jodi wasn’t sick, I didn’t have time to prepare for her departure. I lost my wife in childbirth. Not only did I lose my wife, but I also lost my child.”

  Sadness gave way to anger, and Ace jumped to his feet, sending the chair into a backward skid. He leaned over with both palms flat on the desk.

  He glared at Drew. “Tell me, what’s the appropriate time frame for mourning these days? Are eighteen months enough for each soul that I have lost?”

  Drew’s mouth opened and closed before reopening. He shook his head. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “That’s how it sounded to me.”

  “Jodi wasn’t a selfish woman,” Drew said calmly. “She loved life. She would want you to take care of yourself.”

  “Point taken. However, my child never got a chance to form her own thoughts.” Ace drew in a sharp breath before straightening his frame. “Since you are a mind reader these days, tell me, what would my daughter, Emma Francis, want me to do?”

  “I can’t go tit for tat with you on this issue, and you know it,” Drew replied. “You used to cream my ass every year on the debate team at MIT. And I have no doubt that you can do the same now. We want you to take care of yourself. When was the last time you took a vacation?”

  Ace reached for the chair, drawing it closer. He sat down, dropping his hands on his head. Minutes went by before he lifted his head.

  Perhaps I need to step away for a few days, he thought before replying, “It’s been a while.”

  “You own Calico Cays Resort, for God’s sake,” Drew said, “yet, you haven’t visited the place once.”

  “Jodi and I had planned to be there for the opening.”

  “I know.” Drew moved his chair closer to Ace’s desk. “It’s a short trip from here, and it will help you to relax. You might even get a good night's rest. Many of the executives who visit Calico Cays Resort do so because they are burnt-out. When they leave, they are rejuvenated like a new person. Come on, guy, what do you have to lose?”

  “You should put that in the brochure,” Ace said.

  “We did.” Drew smiled. “The advertisements say: ‘Our Massage Therapists have magic hands, and when they are through, you’ll sleep for a week.’”

  “I’ll think about it,” Ace said.

  Drew pumped his fist.

  “I am not making any promises,” Ace quickly added as his desk phone rang. He lifted the receiver. “Yes? He listened for a few seconds. “Send him up,” Ace groaned before hanging up the phone.

  “Mrs. Edwards?” Drew asked.

  Ace nodded.

  Drew made a face.

  “What now?”

  “That woman ignored me when I came in. She hates me.”

  “Your assessment is excessively harsh,” Ace said. “Mrs. Edwards is grief-stricken. Jodi was like a daughter to her. And even in her grief, she has gone out of her way to make my life comfortable.”

  “Her job is to welcome your visitors without the attitude.”

  “Right now, Mrs. Edwards should be the least of your worries,” Ace responded. “Leyland is on his way up.”

  “In that case, I am out of here. Good luck with Leyland. I can’t deal with your cousin this early in the day.”

  Ace scrubbed his hand over his face. Leyland is the last person I want to see.”

  Drew moved closer to the exit, but Leyland barged through the door before Drew opened it. Unshaven with a movie villain’s grin on his face, and his black hair swept into a ponytail, Leyland wore ripped dungarees, a white T-shirt, biker boots, and a leather jacket.

  “Well if it isn’t the trusted hired hand.” Leyland studied Drew. “Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

  “I am surprised to see you here, Leyland.” Drew pinched the bridge of his nose and stepped back a few paces. “It’s after eleven o’clock, surely there is a bar opened by now.”

  “Don’t forget the name on your paycheck says, Davenport, you ingrate.” Leyland smirked and moved around Drew.

  “Enough,” Ace said. “Today is not the day for your theatrics, Leyland. What do you want?”

  “Is that any way to greet your favorite cousin?” Leyland strolled over to Ace’s desk and plopped into the seat Drew had vacated. He pushed the chair back with his body-weight and stretched his long legs.

  Ace opened his desk drawer, removed a box of tic tac mints, and tossed them at Leyland. “If we are going to have a conversation, I suggest you swallow at least ten of these.”

  Drew laughed.

  Leyland caught the box with one hand and cut his eyes at Drew.

  “I’ll be down shortly, Drew,” Ace said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  “Take your time,” Drew said and left.

  “You have five minutes,” Ace said, returning his attention to Leyland.

  Leyland sunk further into the chair. “Since your parents are in Africa celebrating your sister’s birthday, I thought I would do the honors on their behalf.”

  “You shouldn’t have troubled yourself,” Ace said, glancing at Leyland’s clothes. “Isn’t it a bit early for you anyway?”

  “You are as ungrateful as that one,” Leyland said, lifting his chin toward the closed door. “It must rankle you that your sister usurped your little memorial. How interesting your parents chose to be with Piper instead of you?”

  “Don’t let the fact that it is my sister’s birthday and my parents had spent the last two memorials with me get in the way of your sarcasm,” Ace said.

  “Seems to me, you are losing your golden status,” Leyland replied.

  Ace stood.

  “I don’t have the time or the inclination to listen to your sorry tales today, Leyland.” Ace straightened his tie, reached for his jacket, and folded it over his arm. He faced Leyland. “Dad will be back in a few days, I suggest you talk to him. Excuse me, I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

  Chapter 2

  Bronx, New York

  “I’ll be in the bedroom,” Efia Kwateng said, turning away from the occupants in the living room. “Text me when you are through.”

  Daniel Patterson, a lean man in his late fifties with an effervescent smile that could light up a dark room, touched Efia’s arm. “Don’t leave, you are nearly family. Hopefully, you can talk some sense into Ashley.”

  Dressed in skinny blue jeans, a black, fitted Tee, and chestnut brown UGG boots, Efia scrunched up her flawless, dark mocha complexioned faced before glancing at Ashley, her African-American best friend since first grade.

  “Fine with me,” Ashley said.

  At 23 years old, Efia couldn’t recall the exact moment the peacemaker’s role had fallen to her, but she knew it started after Ashley’s mother had passed away. Efia studied Mr. Patterson for a few seconds before sinking into Ashley’s black leather couch.

  Keep this short, Ashley, Efia inwardly pleaded, I have my own father to deal with. Running her fingers through her thick, unruly tresses, Efia pushed her hair off her face while forcing herself to pay attention to Mr. Patterson and Ashley’s conversation.

  “I am not asking you to be bosom buddies with Candice,” Daniel Patterson said to his daughter. “Just show her some respect when you call the house. After all, she’s your stepmother.”

  “Dad, she’s my peer.” A scowl covered Ashley’s heart-shaped, almond complexioned face, the same tone she shared with Mr. Patterson. “Candice is only
four years older than me.”

  “I know you don’t approve of my new wife.” Mr. Patterson said, “Candice makes me happy. I loved your mother, but she’s gone. Why can’t you be happy that I have found love?”

  “Dad, I know you loved Mom, and it was a difficult time after she died, but Candice is nothing more than a gold-digging tram …”

  “Whoa!” Efia said interrupting Ashley. “I think Ashley’s concerns stem from the fact you only knew Candice for one week before you two were married, Mr. Patterson. And you did meet Candice at ah—a gentleman’s club, right?”

  “Efia, stop being so politically correct!” Ashley snapped. “Dad took Candice off a pole at a strip joint. And to add insult to injury, Candice is running around town, wearing Mom’s jewelry in front of Mom’s friends.”

  “You said you didn’t want any of that stuff,” Mr. Patterson said.

  “Maybe I would have changed my mind,” Ashley replied. “Now, I won’t have the luxury of doing that, will I?”

  “You are judging Candice, without giving her a fair chance,” Mr. Patterson said. “Granted, she didn’t have a solid start as the two of you, but she’s my wife, and I love her.” Mr. Patterson pointed a shaky finger at Ashley. “You need to respect that.”

  “Dad, I love you,” Ashley’s voice broke. “I couldn’t ask for a better father. Please don’t force your ah … wife on me, ok?”

  “It's a shame you feel that way,” Mr. Patterson said.”

  “It upsets my mom’s friends. I got a call the other day from …”

  “Those old women are all jealous of Candice,” Mr. Patterson interjected.

  “Dad, those old women are your age, and some are even younger than you.”

  Mr. Patterson waved his hand dismissively. “I came here hoping to smooth things over with you. If you can’t be pleasant to my wife, then there’s no point in you calling the house or visiting, is there?”

  “Mr. Patterson, you don’t mean that,” Efia said. “Ashley is your only child. Women come and go, Ashley will always be your daughter.”

  “Dad?” Ashley said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “I agree,” Mr. Patterson replied. “Ashley will always be my daughter, but Candice is my wife. No one believes Candice loves me. I guess no one thinks I am handsome enough, or young enough to get the beautiful girl, but guess what? They are wrong, I got her.”