by Pamela Yaye
Smiling wide, she scooped up the phone and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring. His deep baritone voice, which had the power to seduce her, filled the line and she felt her temperature spike.
“I’ve been waiting for this call.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“A guy can hope, can’t he?”
Coiling the phone cord around her finger, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs under the desk. “I got the flowers.”
“You did?”
“All six dozen.”
“And?” he prompted, waiting expectantly. “How did I do?”
“I love them and I love you.” The words spilled out of her mouth, shocking them both. Shit! What’d I say that for? Bolting upright, she coughed to conceal the long, awkward silence. Words tumbled out of her mouth, one after another. “I, ah, the lunch arrived a few minutes ago. Everything looks yummy, especially the veal.”
“Did I get it right? I couldn’t remember if you were allergic to walnuts, so I ordered the avocado salad. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect, Marshall. Everything’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You deserve it, and more.”
Marshall insisted they get off the phone so she could eat, but Sage wouldn’t hear of it. They talked about the weather, the harrowing adventure of Khari’s first driving lesson, and they discussed what to do when they met in L.A in three weeks.
“Now that Khari’s taking driving lessons and working on the yearbook committee, he’s busier than ever. And it’s lonely here without you.”
“You miss me, huh?”
“Bad.” His tone conveyed his need. “It’s no fun without you here, Munch.”
A smile tugged at her lips. Marshall had started calling her the unusual pet name after she’d demolished a plate of fried catfish, and though Sage didn’t like him teasing her, she’d grown to love it.
“What do you miss?” Sage pressed the phone against her ear, ensuring she wouldn’t miss a single naughty word.
“Everything. Your gorgeous smile, your sexy laugh and the way you walk. But you know what I miss the most?”
Sage licked her lips. Nothing like a little phone sex to keep things spicy. Feeling exhilarated and aroused by the sudden huskiness of his voice, she pushed away her food and closed her eyes, blocking out the sounds of the office. “No, what?”
“Watching you drool in your sleep!”
Sage laughed so loud her coworkers Adam Morton and Ella Vaughn stood up and peeked into her cubicle. They exchanged quizzical looks before returning to their seats. “Ha-ha, very funny,” she quipped sarcastically. “I’ve got my very own comedian.”
“No, you got a man who misses you like crazy and who loves you very much. So tell those Las Vegas brothers to step off, because you’re taken.”
Pride welled in her heart. “I’ll do that.”
Sage heard Leo’s voice and stuck her head out into the hall. He was talking to Cashmere, gesturing wildly with his hands, his stringy hair resembling a bird’s nest. Something was up and she had a feeling it wasn’t good. “Marshall, I gotta go. My boss is lurking around, and if he catches me on a personal call, he’ll have my head.”
“All right, but I just have one more thing to say.” Heartened by their earnest talk, he cleared his throat and poured out what was in his heart. “Baby, I want to build a life with you. I know we just got back together, but my feelings for you are real, and growing stronger by the second. You’re my destiny, Sage, and I love you.”
Sage didn’t realize the receiver had slipped from her hand until she heard it clang against her desk.
Chapter 20
“I’m getting married in Maui!”
French onion soup spewed out of Sage’s mouth. The liquid dribbled down her chin, staining her clingy, flame-red dress. They were seated in the Olive Grove, an expensive, celebrity hot spot, and thanks to Tangela, Sage had food all over her face. Her gaze circled the room as she cleaned her mouth. A teen pop star had entered the restaurant, causing a stir and stealing the attention of the diners.
Sage blew her bangs out of her face. She’d been back in town for five days, and it seemed to be one problem after another. Leo was on her case, and her newest client had checked himself into rehab just that morning. “Tell me you’re joking,” she said, resisting the urge to grab Tangela by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.
“Why would I joke about something as important as that?”
“Because you guys have been at each other’s throats for months.”
Her eyebrows shot up to her forehead. “Lots of couples go through rough times. It doesn’t mean they’re not right for each other. It just means they need to work on their relationship.” Tangela produced her left hand. A stunning pink diamond twinkled on her fourth finger. “We picked it out last night. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Gorgeous,” Sage agreed, inspecting the ring. Tangela said it was from Harry Winston. A flawless, contemporary diamond, worth tens of thousands of dollars. Sage wanted to ask Tangela what had happened to her other engagement ring, but decided against it. It wasn’t important. Her best friend was talking crazy again, and she had to set her straight. “Are you sure Warrick’s on board this time? He’s not just marrying you because he’s scared of losing you, right?”
Tangela snatched her hand away. “Of course not. He loves me.”
“No one’s disputing that, but he’s always been reluctant to tie the knot.”
“Don’t worry about Warrick. He’s fine. We had a long talk over the weekend, and now he wants to get married as much as I do. He’s a hundred percent on board.”
Sage grunted. Her best friend wasn’t fooling anybody, especially not her. Tangela had given Warrick another ultimatum and he had caved—again. Sage actually felt sorry for him. He loved Tangela; he just wasn’t ready to get married, and there was nothing wrong with that. Few guys his age were ready to settle down. Twenty-eight-year-olds liked to hit the strip clubs and party with their friends, not sit on the couch, perusing bridal magazines and watching The Wedding Story. “Take your time, girl. You guys have had a rough few months. Warrick’s expanding his company and his dad has had some health issues. The smart thing to do would be to wait until—”
Tangela interrupted. “Don’t,” she warned, her voice sharper than a piece of jagged glass. “I know what I’m doing, and I don’t need you telling me what to do. You have no idea what it takes to make a relationship work, especially my relationship.”
Sage felt her face warm. Annoyed that her best friend had snapped at her and had the nerve to do it in front of the waitress who had returned with their entrées, she tasted her wine. The veiled reference to her mistakes hurt her feelings, and her first inclination was to lash back. But Marshall’s words came back to her. “Next time you feel yourself losing control, count to ten, collect your thoughts and respond in understanding, not anger.” Sage took his advice. It didn’t work.
“What are you getting at?” The greasy-haired man at the next table glanced at her, and she lowered her voice. “Just because I don’t go gaga over wedding dresses and haven’t been planning my wedding day since I was nine doesn’t mean I don’t want to get married. It just means that I’m not ready yet. And I hate to be the one to burst your bubble, but neither is Warrick.”
Sage didn’t miss the look of panic that flashed across Tangela’s face.
“I’m not sixteen anymore, Sage. You don’t have to look out for me.” Admiring her engagement ring, she smoothed her thumb over the diamond, her eyes twinkling under the restaurant lights. “Save the lecture, okay? I’m a big girl and I know what I’m doing. I’m marrying Warrick and no one’s going to stop me. I know you were hurting with all the Marshall drama, but all I want is for you to be happy for me. Just like I’d be for you.”
Sage took a deep breath and exhaled. “What the bride-to-be wants, the bride-to-be gets.” Sage picked up her fork. “So, when’s the big day?”
&
nbsp; “April 28.”
Sage’s spoon slipped from her hand and crashed in her bowl. French onion soup splattered on her cheeks. Annoyed, she grabbed Tangela’s napkin and cleaned her face. “I’ll be in L.A. for work, remember?”
“Cancel. It’s not every day that your best friend gets married,” she said matter-of-factly. “Since wedding season is well underway, we’ve decided to forego tradition and get married on the beach!”
“But you’ve talked about getting married in a Catholic church for as long as I can remember. It’s your childhood dream.”
Staring down into her bowl, she circled her spoon in the broth. A pensive expression marred her delicate features. “It’s no big deal. I want to become Mrs. Warrick Carver, and that’s all that matters.” Her voice perked up, full of its usual shine and luster. “Warrick’s covering the travel expenses for the bridal party and he’s even going to hire a twelve-piece orchestra for the reception.”
“How many people are you inviting?”
Her smile dimmed. “Warrick wants to keep it small. Three hundred people, max.”
“That’s small?”
“For me it is. If it was up to me, I’d invite everyone I know!” Her eyes showed brimming joy. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening! I’m so fired up, I can’t sleep!”
Sage laughed. Tangela was over the moon, and it was good to see her so happy.
Disappointed that her weekend was in jeopardy, but wanting to be supportive, Sage pushed aside her reservations about the impromptu wedding and listened to Tangela chatter about the intimate and private island where her nuptials would take place.
The friends laughed and joked all afternoon and capped off the day with a trip to Tangela’s favorite store, Belle Bridal. The posh, by-appointment-only boutique had the most extensive collection of designer gowns in the state. It carried top-of-the line jewelry, and they served everything from red wine to green tea to its selective clientele.
When Sage strolled into the boutique and saw Rachel, Warrick’s younger sister, she knew she’d been had. Tangela had planned this informal dress fitting without telling her, and she was now smiling at her like a damn leprechaun. Within minutes, her arms were weighed down with bridesmaid dresses and Tangela was shoving her into a fitting room.
Ten minutes, and plenty of wiggles, twists and turns later, Sage was cursing herself for her lack of self-control. Every dress felt like a five-thousand-dollar strait jacket. Sage struggled for several minutes with the zipper of the strapless gown and sighed in relief when the hook snapped in place. Squaring her shoulders, she sucked in her abdomen and shuffled out of the fitting room.
“Can you stand on the platform?” the plump-faced seamstress asked, unaware of her discomfort. “I need to check the length.”
God, I hope I don’t split this dress before I pay for it, she thought, shuffling over. But with the help of the seamstress, and pure strength of mind, Sage hopped up onto the platform and took her place in front of the elongated, three-way mirror. She inhaled sharply, then assessed her look. The gold, double-faced Lazario gown was spectacular. The beaded trim and embroidered neckline of the taffeta gown highlighted her collarbone and the sleek, trumpet-line skirt accentuated her slim hips. Sage had never considered a man’s opinion before, but she knew Marshall would love this dress. Classy, sophisticated and chic, the designer gown underscored her beauty in a simple, elegant way. Grinning back at her reflection, she swept her hair off her shoulders and struck a model-worthy pose. Now, if I could only master sitting down.
“Someone’s put on weight,” Tangela teased, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Your hips are spreading faster than the Red Sea.”
“Marshall wasn’t complainin’,” Sage shot back, a triumphant look on her face. “He likes me just the way I am. Big butt and all.”
“Don’t mind Bridezilla,” Rachel said wryly as she emerged from her fitting room in an identical gown. “Besides, you could stand to put on a few pounds, Sage. Men like to have something to hold on to. You know, a woman with some meat on her bones. Some junk in her trunk.” She grinned cheekily. “Like me.”
All three women laughed.
Just shy of six feet, Rachel had a healthy appetite and figure, for a woman of her stature. A perfect size twelve, she was fortunate enough to eat whatever she wanted without the fear of gaining weight. And after having three babies within five years, she still managed to sustain her eye-catching figure and bright disposition.
“Oh, brother,” Sage groaned, massaging her temples. I think this dress is cutting off my circulation! Her head was throbbing and it felt like the room was spinning around her. She parted her lips to ask the seamstress if they could take a break, but the middle-aged woman scooted down the platform and shifted her attention to Rachel.
“We’re done. You can go change now,” the seamstress told her. “Hang the dress outside your fitting room door and I’ll collect it when I’m finished up here.”
Thank you, Jesus! Sage practically knocked Tangela down trying to get back to her changing room. Unzipped, back to breathing, and feeling a hundred times better, she put her clothes back on and returned to the showroom.
“How’s my kid brother doing?” Rachel asked, staring at Tangela through the three-way mirror. “Does he have any pre-wedding jitters yet?”
There was a trace of irritation in Tangela’s voice when she answered. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? Warrick’s too busy counting down the days to be nervous. He’s absolutely thrilled!”
Sage rolled her eyes. After being in more than a dozen weddings, she knew what was really going on behind the scenes, and her best friend couldn’t tell her otherwise. It was only natural for the groom to be nervous; men often had very real fears about settling down. Women spent their whole lives planning their big day, while men avoided the altar at all costs. But Sage wasn’t about to tell Tangela that. Her friend often took up residence in never-never land, and Sage didn’t have the time or the energy to go there with her today.
Deciding she’d had enough wedding talk, Sage gave Tangela a hug and promised to call her later. “Bye, girl,” she said, strolling toward the front of the store before her best friend could protest. As she passed the cash registers, a pair of ankle-tie pumps with leopard trim drew her attention. After the week she’d had, she deserved a pick-me-up, and nothing bolstered her spirits like a pair of sexy shoes.
A size-eight pair in her hands, she lowered herself onto a cushion, kicked off her shoes and slipped her feet into the heels. They were perfect. Sleek, chic and trendy. A fitted dress and some gold accessories, and she’d be ready for a night out on the town.
Hands on her hips, she turned from right to left, smiling. If Marshall was here, she’d ask him to take her to the House of Blues tonight. Under soft lights and soul music, they’d kiss and dance, stealing the spotlight from the house band and creating a romantic mood all their own. An idea formed in her mind as she remembered the last conversation they’d had. Marshall could be her date for Tangela’s wedding! What was more romantic than spending a week together in hot, beautiful Maui? They could talk about their plans for the future and enjoy long, passionate nights making love. Feeling better, she perused the clothing racks, determined to find a dress that would knock his socks off. Something short and slinky, that showed off her legs and made him drool.
At the register, she chatted for a few minutes with the well-dressed cashier about the new spring stock. “Your total is $939.”
Sage ran her tongue over her teeth. Two months ago she would have slapped down her American Express card without a second thought. But ever since Marshall helped her create a monthly budget, she was more conscious about her spending. She had to make her money work for her in the long run, not the here and now. Damn! I’m starting to sound like Marshall! she thought, opening her purse and extracting her wallet.
Sage could hear Marshall’s voice in her ear, and it quickly grew louder than the voices in her head. A thousand dollars was a lot of
money to spend on a dress and a pair of sandals. And if she was serious about wanting to buy a house next year, she had to start spending less and saving more. Tapping her credit card on the glass counter, her gaze circling the boutique, she racked her mind for a plan. Not only were there a handful of other customers behind her, Tangela was only a few feet away. Sage didn’t know the storekeeper, but she didn’t want the woman to think she was cheap. Or worse, broke. “How much did you say it was again?”
The clerk repeated the amount. “Is there a problem, Ms.?”
“Is that all?” Sage said, affecting surprise. “I still have some more money to spend.” Pointing to the far wall, she glanced over her shoulder at the clerk. “I’ve been dying to try on one of those pink halter dresses. I hope that’s not a problem.”
The clerk’s face lit up, dollar signs twinkling in her eyes. “Of course not. Take as much time as you need. I’ll check on you as soon as I ring up these customers.”
Sage turned away, a satisfied look on her face. She disappeared through the clothing racks, slipped on her sunglasses and ducked out one of the side doors.
Chapter 21
“It’s showtime!” Marshall threw open the back door of the rental car and handed Khari a lavish fruit basket. “Do you remember what to say?”
Shielding his eyes from the blinding sunshine, he said, “We practiced all the way over from the airport. Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not going to mess up. I got it.”
“I know. I just want everything to be perfect.”
“But what if she’s not here?”
Marshall glanced around the parking lot. His eyes rested on the sleek black SUV with gleaming twenty-four-inch rims. He knew Sage drove a Lexus sedan, and he’d bet his life savings, the car bearing the word DramaQn on its personalized license plate belonged to her. “She’s here, all right,” he answered, grabbing the gift bag. “Besides, I just called and the receptionist said she was with clients.”
