The Iron Tiara



After meeting with his client, Anthony made the long lonely drive across the Alley and thought about the woman who was waiting for him at home. The woman who had changed his life completely in less than a month’s time. A change he'd first denied, then resisted and now embraced. He smiled when he thought about the weird facts she shared about herself, the na?ve innocence in her vocabulary like the term “none of your beeswax,” and her addiction to pistachio nuts and peppermint patties. Not to mention her huge oversized blue eyes that matched the size of her heart.

He was certain he knew the reason why she'd refused his official marriage proposal, so he had no regrets about taking things into his own hands days earlier. He would ask her again tonight and explain that this second proposal was only a formality. As far as he was concerned, they were already married. But first, he would make love to her. Just the thought gave him an erection. And since he didn’t want to drive the rest of the way home in agony, he put Christy out of his mind and concentrated on the business transaction he'd just made. It was going to be quite prosperous. For years, he'd been pouring money into the most impoverished Native American reservations in the country, doing his best to anonymously offer monetary assistance where it was needed. This deal would be lucrative enough to finance a school, clinic and community center at one particular reservation out west.

The sound of his pager broke his train of thought, and he unclipped it from his belt. His brow furrowed as he read the digital numbers. It was a code that said there was an emergency at the camp. He sighed, wondering what it might be. It could be anything from a fight over a woman or drugs, to a murder. He was ten minutes from the Alley's exit and another twenty minutes from the camp. And there were no pay phones in between. He'd have to go there. He pressed on the accelerator as he mourned the time that wouldn't be spent holding his woman in his arms.

His woman. Yes, Christy was his woman, and she would come to realize soon enough that she belonged to him.





Chapter Thirty-Three





Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 1978





Nisha watched Alexander walk out of the dining room. She took a sip of her drink and tried to wrap her head around what was happening mentally. His hair had gotten longer since she last saw him and she couldn’t help but notice the admiring glances he got from other women who were in the restaurant. Looks aren’t everything, she reminded herself as she broke off a piece of bread and buttered it.

She sighed when she thought about the short amount of time he’d played host to her. They did nothing but bicker with each other. It seemed that every time she opened her mouth, he would challenge her. She tried to offer a truce by making him dinner, but he became unusually quiet during the meal. After he had helped her clean up the kitchen, she excused herself and spent the rest of the evening in his guest room reading. And she could've kicked herself for letting him distract her with the story about Anthony. He'd expertly avoided her question—a tactic she'd used many times.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a voice say, “I guess he’s the ‘something important’ that came up.”

She dropped her bread on the plate and looked up. Nicholas was standing over her, a frown on his face and his body language unwelcoming.

“You followed me?” She couldn’t mask the surprise in her voice.

“No, I didn’t follow you, Nisha. After I got the message that you canceled…again…I decided to meet some friends here for drinks.” He nodded toward the other side of the restaurant.

Of all the restaurants in Philly, he had to show up at the one where she was having dinner with Alexander? She had crummy luck.

“He’s a family friend who came to town unexpectedly,” she stammered. She stood up and tried to take his hand, but he pulled away before she could. “Honestly, Nicholas, it’s not what it looks like.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Nisha, it’s how to read people. I watched you two. You’re definitely into each other.”

She blinked. “That’s ridiculous. We’ve been here less than fifteen minutes.”

“And the other thing I’ve learned is that when someone starts a sentence with ‘honestly,’ they’re being anything but.”

Nicholas walked out passing Alexander who was coming back from his phone call.

Nisha sat back down and let out a sigh.

“I have to leave,” Alexander announced as he removed his wallet and threw two hundred dollars on the table. “That’ll cover dinner and a cab ride home for you.”

Alexander was more rattled by the phone call to Shasta than he wanted to admit. He knew that Christy was in grave danger and since Anthony wasn’t anywhere near the camp, he insisted that Shasta call the police. She was reluctant at first, but Alexander told her it was the only option. Unless other gang members that were regulars and loyal to Anthony showed up at the camp and would be willing to take on the other men, Shasta had no choice. He was relieved when he convinced her and knew that even though there was nothing he could do from Philadelphia, he had to catch an earlier flight home. There would be a major fallout to deal with at the camp, and he had to be there.

She stood up again. “What do you mean you have to leave?”

He didn’t seem like he was going to offer an explanation as he looked at her with those icy blue eyes. Eyes that weren’t apologetic or sorry. She could feel the anger start to build.

“Because I accepted this dinner date with you, I risked ruining a relationship that had potential,” she hissed in a low voice. “And he confirmed that I did indeed destroy any chances I may have had with him.” She nodded toward the door where Nicholas had just exited.

“That’s unfortunate,” Alexander told her.

“Unfortunate?” she asked. It was something her brother would’ve said. Alexander didn’t make excuses for himself or apologize. Apparently, he had picked up some of Anthony’s cruder personality traits. She caught sight of her waiter coming toward them with their meals. “And dinner will be here in five seconds. What do you expect me to do?” she asked in an irritated tone.

He grabbed her and kissed her softly on her lips. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He turned around and walked away. She gritted her teeth and threw her cloth napkin at his back.

“You, you…” Her anger was so thick she couldn’t think of a vile name to call him so she called him one word that would cover every imaginable detestable name in the book. A word she hadn’t thought about in decades. A word that dredged up a long-suppressed ache in her soul. “You Owani!!!”

He stopped, and for a split second she thought he might turn around, but he didn’t. He kept going.

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