“Okay,” I said.

“And I know I was a complete jerk when we went out . . . what was it, ten years ago?”

“Longer.”

“Well, I’m asking you for a friendly do-over. So, call me superstitious, but I thought having the same meal might get me some luck in becoming your friend again.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said, but what I was thinking was that it was downright charming.

“And it’s not just any quail that I had to call the chef personally to convince him to make—because it’s not on the menu. It’s roasted quail flambéed in—”

“Cognac,” I said, with my mouth watering.

“Glad you remembered,” he said.

“I honestly hadn’t known I did.”

The quail was better than I’d remembered and Preston was an even better dining partner. His work with HIV/AIDS had taken him all over Africa and he seemed so committed, so fervent about what he did that it was inspiring. I could listen to him talk all day about the people he’d met, the things he’d seen, and even though it was sad and enough to make anyone cry, it was also heartwarming and I could see how it had changed him. I’d traveled throughout most of Europe and even took a cruise with my mother once that stopped in South Africa, but we never went away from the tours or resorts. This place, this Africa that Preston was talking about, was beautiful and exotic and unforgiving in a way that made me feel more alive just for hearing about it.

“There’s no way I could have done anything to save her,” Preston said, looking just as lost in the story he was telling me as I felt. “The outdated drugs we’d given her to treat the virus were not as effective as they could have been. People have been speculating for years that the drugs that companies send to Africa as charity when they are out of date are less active and perhaps poisonous. But it was all we had. We could either watch her die fast without the drugs or give her the stuff we weren’t even sure was working.”

“Awful,” I said.

“Yeah . . .” He paused and took one of perhaps three remaining bites on his plate. My food was looking low as well. It was just too good to leave sitting on the plate. “But I don’t mean to bore you. I know I can get carried away about this stuff.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said. “It’s great to know you’ve experienced so much.”

“Try telling that to the women who refuse to date me,” he said.

I couldn’t imagine anyone turning him down for anything. I hadn’t had one drink and I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like with no clothes on.

“Really?”

“Please, me and love don’t get along,” he said. “Once women realize how committed I am to my work and that most of my money goes into the clinic and not a fancy car and big house, they run for the border.”

“So, you haven’t had any luck? No marriages? No kids?”

“None . . . Well, I was about to get engaged once, but it didn’t pan out.”

“What happened?”

“A few years back, I was dating this model I’d met when I was doing research in France. She’s a Ralph Lauren model from Alabama, of all places. We just hit it off. I guess it was the whole Southern thing.”

“You mean Chan?” I asked. Chan was one of the prettiest black models in the business. I didn’t follow the industry, but you couldn’t see a Lauren ad without noticing the delicate almond sister and how she commanded the camera’s attention with her dark brown eyes. She was graceful and soft, yet she also seemed to have an air of sophistication.

“Yes,” he said, but a smile didn’t appear on his face in the way I’d expected from a man who’d dated her. “We dated for a while. Even did a little long distance thing between Europe and the States when I had to come home. I was a good boy. This was when I was like thirty-one and she was just twenty, so it wasn’t easy.”

“Twenty?” I plucked his hand playfully.

“Please, you try finding a working model over twenty-five and I’ll buy you an airplane.”

“Very funny,” I said.

“Things were amazing. I think maybe because she was so young and had less limitations, it was just fun. And with what I do, things can get very frustrating, so I just need a little outlet sometimes. I fell for her quickly. And I went out and bought this rock to put on her hand that could have fed a village in Kenya for eight months.”

“You’re crazy,” I said laughing.

“No, really,” he said without laughing. “I had the ring and she came here to visit for a weekend. I was so nervous that the entire weekend went by without me saying anything. I missed every opportunity. And then I decided that I’d just ask her when we got to the airport. I’d walk inside with her and ask the question right there in front of all of those people. She was young, so she liked stuff like that. The time came, and we were sitting in the lobby of the airport, talking before she was supposed to walk through security. I had the ring in my pocket and I was about to pull it out and get down on one knee.”

Tags: Grace Octavia Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net