DNA

1

Russ folded his arms around Amoy and struggled to meet her eyes in the mirror. Don't look at this move as my job turning things upside down. Think of it as an adventure.

She exhaled hard, turned in his arms, and laid both hands on his chest. Our life is in Jamaica. The boys are in a good school. Their family is here and—

Em. He pressed a finger to her lips to stem her words. "I'm not asking you to pull up roots forever. It will be for five years at most. If it happens."

Her fingers traveled the length of his white tie before she stood on tiptoes and kissed him. Amoy avoided his gaze as she asked, Can we talk about this later?

You're right. Later is better, he whispered in her ear. Maybe if we enjoy some extra special time together, you'll change your mind.

She chuckled and patted his bearded jaw. "It'll take a lot more than that to change my mind."

You love the way I love you. His voice dropped to a husky note and he wriggled his brows. I know everything you like.

That made her grin and slip her arms around his neck. I may have some news for you, but it'll keep, she said.

Okay, but can you give me a hint? He pecked her forehead and held her away from him. He couldn't read the light in her eyes as she moved her head slowly from side to side. Nope.

Later then. He looked at his watch. Let's go. I don't want to be late.

Let me tell the boys goodnight. She stepped into her shoes, which brought her close to his height—just over six feet.

Amoy looked good in a cream strapless dress that left her shoulders bare. The fabric hugged her curves, which made Russ want to stay home and make love to her. That was wishful thinking because he couldn't miss the awards ceremony being hosted by his employer, Saunders & Royes Distributors.

As Amoy shrugged into a jacket that matched her dress, a twinge of guilt pricked Russ. He'd posed the idea of them migrating as something that might happen, when he'd already agreed to take the position in Miami. Since the start of the year, he'd been flying back and forth frequently. Nine months in, the constant traveling had worn on him. He thought he'd grown used to the demands of the job, but he was wrong.

Amoy applied lipstick, then rushed out of the room with her drop earrings sailing in the air. Behind her, she left a trail of Volupté—a fruity-flowery-woodsy perfume, her signature scent.

Their live-in helper, Miss Sarah, would watch the boys tonight. Russell, Jr. and Troy liked and respected her, and were already in their room getting ready for bed since they had school the following day.

Russell had been with them for the last hour so he wouldn't disturb their bedtime ritual. He spent so much time at the office that the boys were always excited to see him. This wasn't the way he wanted things to be and was far from the original goals he'd set for his life, but he had to live up to his professional responsibilities.

He looked at himself in the mirror, dusted the shoulders of his black shirt, then got his jacket out of the closet. At the threshold, he flicked the light switch and shut the door behind him.

Amoy had left the bedside lamp on to avoid them returning to total darkness.

In the living room, Miss Sarah sat watching the evening news.

Amoy came into the room from the opposite passage, slipping her phone inside her purse.

From the sofa, Miss Sarah grinned at them. I hope di two of yuh enjoy unooself.

We will, Amoy said, walking toward Russ.

Miss Sarah's comment made him smile. She'd left the parish of St. Elizabeth three decades ago and still spoke as if she got off the country bus last week. Her broken English didn't bother him anymore but, at first, he feared the boys would start speaking like her. He needn't have worried. They understood Patois as well as English and knew when to use both.

Amoy reached to the carport ahead of him, while he mused that her womanly curves were very much at odds with her baby face. Even now, she didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

He unlocked the Ford Escape and switched on the engine remotely, then helped Amoy get in. She sat, swung her legs inside, and blew him a kiss.

As she settled in the seat, he stepped back. I'm beginning to think we shouldn't go out tonight. That dress has me distracted.

Amoy looked at him through the hair she'd combed to one side of her face. You better stop joking and get in. If you don't turn up, your boss will blame me and you won't tell him it's your fault we didn’t show.

Laughing, Russ laid his jacket on the back seat of the SUV. You're right about that.

When he got behind the wheel, he studied Amoy. She'd gone from Amoy to Moy and he’d shortened that to Em, over time. They'd been married for eight years and he loved her as much today as he had at the start of their relationship.

So, are you getting an award? Amoy asked while fiddling with the radio.

I doubt it, but they may mention the promotion they've offered me.

Mmm.

Amoy turned the radio dial until she found a station playing love songs.

As they pulled out of the yard and the gate closed behind them, Russ said a prayer all would go well this evening. He was hopeful that by the time they got back home, Amoy would have softened her stance on the matter of them moving.

He had another week on the island before he had to return to the Miami office, and didn't want to spend it fighting. Relocating would make things easier for him. His mother lived in Miami and her health was deteriorating. He'd rest easier knowing he was close by in case of any emergency. Mama was stubborn, but was now living with his sister, which meant he didn't have to worry too much. They weren’t close, but Tanya saw to their mother’s needs with financial assistance from Russ.

His mind moved to a different track as he drove across town, dodging taxi drivers. Their cars were usually chockfull of people and they always seemed to be in a hurry. They made driving in Kingston hazardous. Route taxi drivers often ignored traffic signals because of indiscipline and the need to maximize their income by making as many trips as possible.

While he navigated through the streets, Russ tried to figure out something special he could do with the boys before he went overseas again. Whether he’d get to do that was anybody’s guess.

He turned the SUV into the hotel parking lot. The awards dinner was being hosted at one of Kingston's finest hotels. Russ admired that about the company. They treated their employees well and didn't stint on benefits and events.

On the way through the elegant lobby with Amoy on his arm, Russ acknowledged staff members also on their way to the ballroom. They didn't have much time to socialize because in less than twenty minutes, an executive assistant herded them from the bar in the outer area through to the ballroom.

Russ and Amoy were seated with the company executives at a table for ten near the stage. As Amoy chatted with the directors' wives, Russ couldn't help but be proud of her. She fit in everywhere she went and always hit the right notes, no matter the occasion.

When the small talk subsided and the emcee made the opening remarks, Russ sent up another prayer. If everything went his way, nobody would spill anything they shouldn't before he had a chance to win Amoy to his way of thinking.

Their dinner of garlic shrimp in coconut milk and herbed chicken breasts was served with pasta and steamed vegetables.

Phillip Saunders, the CEO, sat on Russ's left and kept up an unending conversation over dinner, while Russ stayed on tenterhooks the entire time.

The women talked about their children, the best schools, and a spa facility that opened recently.

After the waiters delivered assorted cheesecake bites for dessert, the music tapered into silence, and the emcee took the stage.

Don’t forget our appointment, Russ murmured in Amoy’s ear. I can’t wait.

Amoy bit back a grin, then whispered, Behave yourself.

He sat up and nodded to his wife’s boss, who gave him an approving smile then turned her attention to the man at the podium.

The awards presentation went on for a half-hour. Those who received awards had worked for Saunders & Royes from five to fifteen years.

Russ had only been with the company for six years, but advanced rapidly, earning three promotions. He was proud of the work he'd done and happy with the steps he'd made. The job provided generously for his family, and that was important to him. His people were nowhere near as privileged as Amoy's and it was a point of pride to be able to take good care of her and their children.

He believed part of what troubled Amoy was that she didn't want to give up her job. She worked for her father's medical supply company and was used to earning her own money. If the family shipped out, she'd be a homebody—at least for a while.

Russ shelved his thoughts when the emcee called his name. As he walked to the stage, he nodded to acknowledge the applause of staff members and well-wishers. He accepted the crystal memento with the company's logo. He'd been voted the most innovative manager by the staff.

Phillip stood beside Russ while he gave his thank you speech. When he finished, Phillip clapped him on the back and leaned toward the mic. Russ is not only full of great ideas that have put the company's name out there, he continues to work hard to make Saunders & Royes the best production and distribution company in the hemisphere.

He paused and Russ swallowed hard, hoping Phillip wouldn't say much more. As he continued, a weight dropped on Russ's shoulders.

I'm pleased that we can expect bigger and better things in the months to come as Russ has accepted the position of Regional Manager and will be based in our Miami office starting in November.

Russ kept his cool, but couldn't help the way his gaze darted to the table where Amoy sat a few feet from the stage.

A slight smile curved her lips, but her eyes smoldered. When she looked directly at him, one of her brows cocked ever so slightly. Amoy picked up her wine glass and sipped, still staring at him.

Meanwhile, Russ’s stomach plunged to his leather Oxford shoes.

2

When Amoy turned from the counter, holding a mug of coffee, Troy rode into the spacious kitchen on Russ's back. The four-year-old clasped his father across the neck with one hand, and Russ gripped him by the ankles.

You're going to mess up his uniform carrying him like that. she said, as Russ lowered Troy to the floor.

Russ waved a hand toward Troy's navy uniform shirt and khaki pants before taking the cup from her. It's okay, see?

Your lunch bag is ready, Amoy said to Troy, acting as if she hadn't heard his father's response. Take Junior's bag as well. Wait for me in the living room.

Yes, Mommy. Troy picked up both bags, not cracking a smile. He was as serious as his father when he had a job to do. According to Amoy's father, with a little less of Russ and a bit more of her, he'd have been perfectly balanced like his brother. Still, he was her little soldier, faithful and protective of her. Russ, Jr. was more like her, playful and prone to distraction.

Miss Sarah walked into the kitchen-cum-dining room, derailing Amoy's thoughts. Yuh have anything special yuh want me to cook today, Miss Amoy?

Use the pork chops. Amoy faced Russ, who now sat at the table where she'd placed his breakfast of corned beef and cabbage. What time will you be home this evening?

He laid the mug on the table and frowned a little. Sixish.

Good, we'll wait for you.

As she went past him, Russ held on to her arm. What about my kiss?

It irked her to see him acting as if everything was normal after what he'd done. She shook her head slightly, looking down at him. What about it?

He glanced at Miss Sarah, who was rattling things in the freezer, and back at Amoy. Keeping his voice pitched low, he asked, You're still upset over last night?

Amoy let her arched brows and the fire in her eyes convey her displeasure. Wouldn't you be if I made a major decision without telling you?

He let out his breath and released her arm. We'll talk about it later.

She walked out of the kitchen, conscious that she hadn't said goodbye to Miss Sarah. Plus, she’d avoided discussing the matter with Russ last night. Instead, she stayed silent and let him stew. Exactly what he deserved after what he’d done. This morning, she also avoided him during what should have been their prayer time. She didn’t feel good about it, but what was done couldn’t be undone.

Let's go, guys, she said, picking up the remote off the center table and switching off the television.

They groused, but got up and followed her to the carport. While Junior secured his seatbelt and helped Troy, she dropped her handbag on the passenger seat of her red Toyota Yaris. After checking that her sons were ready, she backed out of the driveway and headed in the direction of their school.

The ride took fifteen minutes and within another ten, she was on her way to work. Traffic was beginning to build up but she didn't mind. Most people would have resented sitting in an endless line of vehicles, but the intermittent delays gave her time to think.

Last night, she'd been livid to find out Russ had deliberately misled her. He could be single-minded in the way he approached life, but she thought he would have been considerate enough to delay making a decision until they arrived at a united position. So much for allowing her to have an input.

Knowing Russ the way she did, Amoy figured he'd start with gentle persuasion, then try steamrolling her into changing her mind. She'd always known it might come to this. Russ was ambitious and would do whatever was needed to get ahead, barring anything illegal. He'd been dropping hints about the position opening up for a couple of months now, which likely meant he was already being groomed for it when he first mentioned the promotion.

She pulled into the complex where her father's business was situated, eased into one of the parking spaces assigned to the company, and switched off the engine.

Her cell phone rang and she got her bag off the seat and pulled it out. The ring tone—Years from Now, by Dr. Hook—told her Russ was calling. This was early for him. She'd expected him to hold out until at least lunch time.

Russ, I'm at the office.

Can we meet for lunch?

Always, he went straight to the point when he'd done wrong.

She stared at the gray wall beyond the car’s bonnet. I have to look at my schedule.

Russ’s silence told her that he was exasperated, but she didn’t want to deal with him now. She was used to him giving her space before coming at her from another direction.

You run the department you work in, Amoy. They won't miss you for an hour.

You don't work here, so you have no idea what's happening.

He sighed. I'm sorry. Let's start again. Can I take you to lunch?

Where do you want to eat? She stared at the dust particles on the dashboard, wondering what else he had planned. I'll meet you.

I'll pick you up at twelve thirty.

Russ—

I love you, Em.

She sighed because he wouldn't hang up until she told him what he wanted to hear. I love you too, Russ.

Honey?

Yeah?

A Caldina pulling in beside her intruded on the conversation.

Don't stay mad with me, okay?

She didn't want Russ to think he was in the clear, so her answer was vague. I'll try.

His heavy sigh was designed to pull on her heartstrings. He knew her too well.

She opened the car door and got out, carrying her handbag. See you later.

Bye, baby.

Amoy ended the call, shaking her head as she got into the elevator. Her anger had worn off, but now anxiety replaced it. She didn’t want to give up her life to follow Russell while he pursued his dreams. She was perfectly happy working for her father as his marketing and purchasing manager. CVW Medical Supplies wasn't a big company, but they were leaders in their chosen field. What was the point of moving abroad to start over and do nothing while Russell got to do exactly what he wanted?

She could hear Daddy telling her it was her duty as a wife to support her husband, even if it would eventually hurt his business. Amoy was efficient and always looked for ways to enhance the company’s image.

Her father was a devout Catholic and had old-fashioned ideas about marriage and the family. Amoy was certain that if Russ wanted her to stop working, he'd have Daddy's blessing.

As she walked into the classy gray-on-gray front office, Amoy ran through the list of jobs she planned to complete before lunch. She stopped at her assistant's desk, same as she did each morning.

Carol Jenkins was fifty and fabulous, as she'd taken to describing herself. She was short and curvy with a salt-and-pepper afro that flattered her oval face. Always well-dressed and full of energy, she kept Amoy organized and the small office full of good cheer.

She pulled the earphones out of her ears when Amoy appeared. Good morning, I left your messages on your desk and forwarded some email to you. By the way, your father is asking you to see him when you have a minute.

Thanks, I will, Amoy said, walking into her office