“I’ve noticed,” she said, then Devon heard Kiana crying in the background. “My baby’s hungry, so I have to go. But congrats again. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” he said, then looked up and saw Marie standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
She smiled sweetly as she sauntered over to him in a pair of silver shoes and a short trench coat. Devon dropped his phone as she untied the coat, revealing a black lace teddy that kissed her curves in a way that made his mouth water.
“Well, hello to you,” he said crossing over to her and pulling her into his arms.
“I missed you today.”
“If this is how you feel when you miss me, miss me every day,” he said, then kissed her neck with a deliberate slowness.
“Umm,” she moaned. “I just stopped by to show you my shoes.”
“You have on shoes?” he quipped as he brushed his lips across her neck again.
“Funny,” she moaned. “So, who was on the phone?”
“Kandace,” he said, then leaned in to kiss her again. Marie brought her hand to Devon’s lips.
“You were telling your ex that you loved her? Seriously?”
Devon stepped back from Marie and raised his eyebrow at her. “I can’t believe that you’re standing here getting upset because I told my friend that I love her.”
“She’s not just your friend, she’s your ex, and it seems that Kandace still gets to you. Am I supposed to be her replacement? Is that why you want to whisk me off to Paris, because you don’t want to see her raising her family with Solomon?”
“Are you serious?” Devon walked away from her and returned to the chocolate. “Marie, what is this really about?”
Marie dropped her head and sighed. This had nothing to do with Kandace and she knew that. When she looked up at Devon, she wanted to tell him that she was afraid, that she wasn’t sure if she could handle being so far away from everything that was familiar to her. He locked eyes with her and dropped his spoon. Crossing over to her, he drew her into his arms. “Aren’t you sure about us?” he asked softly, brushing his fingers across her cheek.
“I’m scared, Devon,” she replied in a near whisper.
“Baby.”
She held her hand up. “This is going to sound crazy to you, but who’s going to do my hair? What am I going to do while you’re running your restaurant and filming your show? There’s only so much tweeting and status updating that I can do. And I don’t want to be a burden to you, sitting around pouting—because I do pout ...”
Devon held her face in his hands and shook his head at her. “Marie ...”
“Maybe you should go to Paris without me at first,” she said. “Make sure that you want your girlfriend tagging along when you start your new life.”
Devon folded his arms and leaned back, wondering if he should tell her that he wasn’t taking his girlfriend to Paris with him. “Marie, do you want me to go without you? What do you think is going to change if you’re not there with me?”
She dropped her head as she tried to put her thoughts together in a coherent way. Why was she pretending that going to Paris with the man she loved was scary? “Devon, I have never gotten to this part before,” she said. “I’ve never been with a man who makes me want to be a better me, and someone who isn’t impressed by the media version of Marie. What happens if we get to Paris and you decide I’m not what you want?”
“I know who you are. You’re the woman I love and that is never going to change,” he said drawing her into his arms. “Why are you having such a hard time believing that?”
She looked up at him and sighed. “I’m tripping, I’m nervous, and I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“That’s because you’ve never been with me,” he said. “I got you, Marie. And if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, just keep in mind that when you have both feet on the ground, you can keep walking.”
“I’ve never looked at it that way,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need for you to apologize,” Devon said. “I tell you what, we’re going to make up as soon as I cover up the dessert. Don’t move. I want to see exactly what’s underneath that coat.”
Chapter 26
The day of the fund-raiser, Devon felt like a nervous kitten. The conversation he’d had with Richard Charles two days ago put him at ease, but as the moments ticked down to his wedding, those words of encouragement floated out of his head.
“What’s the matter with you?” Marie asked as she stood behind Devon and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You look as if you’re about to pass out. Look at the tote board.”
Devon smiled when he saw that they’d raised nearly one million dollars for My Sister’s Keeper. He turned around and faced Marie. “You did it,” he said. “Your friends really came through.”
“As well as yours. It didn’t hurt to have Maurice Goings and some of the other Carolina Panthers to put up their jerseys for the silent auction and make those huge donations,” she said.
Devon looked Marie up and down, loving the way her red dress accented her body and made her skin glow.
Adriana waved to Devon, indicating that the pastor was ready. He turned to Marie. “We have to go and make a presentation,” he told her. “And there is a form you need to sign, as well.” He led her over to a small table in the corner where Richard had placed the marriage license underneath some official-looking papers.
“What’s this?” she asked, giving the papers a blasé glance as Devon explained that they were papers signing over the shoes she’d donated to the auction.
“Really?” she said as she signed. “Do you think I’m going to change my mind?”
Smiling, he took the papers from her hand. “Changing your mind is not an option,” he said. “Come on, let’s go make this presentation.”
“What is this presentation?” Marie asked as she looked down at the printed program.
“It’s something that just came up,” he said, taking her hand just as the music switched from thumping jazz to the first chords of the “Wedding March.”
“What’s going on?” Marie asked as Devon led her to the stage.
“Remember you kept talking about waiting for the other shoe to drop?” he whispered as he reached into his pocket.
“Devon?” she asked as he pulled out a velvet box. All eyes turned to the couple as they took center stage.
“I’ve decided that I don’t want to go to Paris with my girlfriend.”
“And you brought me on this stage, in front of all of these people, to tell me this?” Marie snapped, ready to bury her silver shoe down his throat.
“Yes, I wanted to bring you up here in front of all of these people and God because when we get on the plane to go to Paris, you’re not going to be my girlfriend, you’re going to be my wife,” Devon said, then nodded toward Reverend Layton Jackson.
“What?” she stammered, tears streaming down her cheeks as her father approached her.
“I love you, Marie Charles,” Devon said as he opened the box, showing her the four-carat diamond and platinum engagement ring that her mother used to wear. Marie’s knees went weak as he slipped the ring on her finger. She turned to her father, who smiled his approval.
“Told you she’d love it,” Richard said.
Adriana approached the stage and smiled at Marie. “And I told you this red dress was special.”
“I can’t believe that you all got me like this,” she said. Marie glanced at Devon and smiled. “What if I’d said no?”
“Like that was going to happen,” Devon replied confidently. Marie reached over and kissed him.
The reverend cleared his throat. “We haven’t gotten to that part, yet,” he said.
“Sorry, Reverend,” Marie said.
“All right,” Reverend Jackson said. “Let’s get started. Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today for many reasons. To help our fellow man and woman, to lend a helping hand to those less fortun
ate than us, and to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
Marie looked into Devon’s eyes as he took her hands in his. “I love you,” she mouthed to him as the reverend continued.
“Marriage is not an institution to be entered into lightly, without forethought and love,” he said. “The couple standing before me has shown love for each other and for others. This fund-raiser for My Sister’s Keeper shows the goodness inside all of us and how love extends from our hearts to the needs of our fellow man. It was that kind of love that brought this couple together and that will sustain their marriage. If anyone here has a reason why these two should not be joined in marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Devon and Marie glanced out into the crowd and were happy to hear nothing but silence. The reverend nodded at Devon. “Devon, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Promise to love her from this day forward, and cherish her, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
“I do,” Devon said, then kissed Marie’s hand.
She wanted to melt. She’d never felt so loved and cherished. “Marie,” the reverend said. “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Promise to love him from this day forward, and cherish him, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
She inhaled sharply. “I do.”
“Who gives this bride away?” Reverend Jackson asked.
“I do,” Richard said, then leaned in to kiss Marie. “I love you and I’m always just a phone call away.” He glanced at Devon and smiled, eliciting an uproar of laughter from the crowd.
“She won’t be making that call,” Devon said. “Unless it’s to tell you about the grandkids.”
“Hey, one step at a time,” Marie said with a giggle, though she couldn’t wait for that day to come.
“Well,” Reverend Jackson said. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.” Devon pulled Marie into his arms and kissed her as if they were in the room alone. She swayed in his arms, never wanting the feeling of his lips and tongue to ever leave her mouth.
When they finally broke their kiss, the crowd applauded excitedly. Marie smiled and looked at her husband. She couldn’t believe that Devon had pulled the wool over her eyes like this. “I’m going to watch you, Mr. Harris.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Mrs. Harris.” He kissed her cheek, and they walked off the stage into the crowd to shake hands with their guests.
Richard stopped the couple. “Devon,” he said. “I’ve never liked or respected the men my daughter spent her time with. I thought she was mocking me with her choices, and she probably was. But you had to be the man my daughter was holding out for. I’m glad. Welcome to the family.” Richard extended his hand to Devon and the men shook hands, then hugged.
“Thank you, sir. And know that I love your daughter more than I thought I could ever love a woman,” Devon replied, bringing a rush of heat to Marie’s cheeks.
“Take care of her, because she’s my little girl, no matter how grown she is. I’m just happy she’s finally grown up.” Richard held his arms out for his daughter, and Marie hugged her father.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said.
Devon’s friends walked over to the couple, Serena, Jade, and Alicia dying to see the ring. Antonio and James greeted Devon with a glass of scotch.
“Welcome to the club, brother,” James said.
“I don’t know what Serena’s going to do with you in Paris. I guess it’s time to invest in some cooking lessons for my wife,” Antonio said with a smile.
“And for the last time,” Serena said, “I’m going to say this: You didn’t marry me for my cooking.” Antonio kissed his wife’s neck.
“You got that right,” he said.
Devon looked at Marie and got ready to kiss her when an eruption of applause moved through the building. “A million dollars!” someone yelled out, and the band began playing “Celebration.”
Devon spun his wife around. “What a night and what a beautiful site,” he said.
“The flashing total on the board is lovely,” Marie said, looking at the LED image with tears in her eyes.
“Oh, I’m talking about my wife in my arms,” he said, then kissed her with an intense passion that made Marie’s knees quake.
“Wait until you see what I have underneath this dress,” she whispered when they broke their kiss.
“And on that note, we’re out of here.” Devon scooped his wife into his arms and they headed out the door to begin their life together as husband and wife.
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Chapter 1
If looks could kill, Edward Funderburke would have been dead under Imani Gilliam’s icy stare. Her agent must have been losing his mind along with his silver hair for suggesting such a thing. A reality TV show?
Imani was a serious actress, not someone seeking fifteen minutes of fame, like those people who signed up for those shows. Obviously, Edward must have forgotten that. Imani was Broadway, feature films—not reality TV. Instead of getting her a part in a cheap reality show, he should have worked harder to get her the role in the reprisal of the hit play Kiss of the Spider Woman. According to Edward, the producers were looking for someone with more of a recognizable name, even though she had wowed them at her audition. But how did anyone think Imani would become a bankable name if she couldn’t get a big role that would make her a star?
What Imani lacked in name recognition, she made up for in talent. She was the classic triple threat—she could sing, dance, and act. That should have been enough, or at least that’s what Imani thought. But in this industry, sometimes it didn’t matter how talented you were, which was why so many rappers and singers had lead roles in so many movies, yet only a few of them were actually good enough to pull it off.
She’d do a film with Common, but he was the only rapper who she felt deserved the screen time he received. The rest of them needed to stick to their day jobs and studios needed to put their faith in actresses and actors—people who trained to do the job.
Imani wasn’t naive enough to think that the studios weren’t in it for the money. That’s why 50 Cent and T.I. starred alongside Denzel and Samuel L. Jackson. And if it wasn’t the rappers, it was the stars who stayed in the tabloids who got all of the plum roles. Imani would’ve loved the chance to play the lead in Salt. Of course, she didn’t have the name recognition of Angelina Jolie or the headlines.
Folding her arms, she glared at Edward, letting him know that she wasn’t warming to the idea of doing a reality show.
“It’s a really good concept, and think of the national exposure,” Edward added, hoping to open Imani’s mind to the notion.
“Eddie, I know you don’t really expect me to say yes. I’m a real actress,” Imani said indignantly, flipping her curly locks behind her ear. “These shows are for has-beens or wannabes. Maybe if you would get out of the office more often, you’d find a script for me that would give me the name recognition that I so badly need.”
“All right, Imani,” he said, leaning across his desk and looking her directly in the eye. “Let’s be real here. You haven’t worked in months, no one has sent you a script since you did Fearless Diva and, need I remind you, that wasn’t the best vehicle that you could have taken. Monster’s Ball could have been your breakthrough role. Halle won the Oscar for that role. You would’ve been great in that role and I tried to tell you that. You just think that you can do anything you want to do and you can’t. It’s about building a career, a portfolio that people identify you with. Those regional plays you’ve done, most of them have been for free and no one, not a soul, is trying to put them on Broadway. You have to do something to shake the stagnant off your career.”
Imani rolled her eyes. “I didn’t want to do a drama. I had just come off a dramatic role on Broadway and I needed a break,” she said. “And if you gave me better advice, then maybe I would listen. You weren’t too happy about the Monster’s Ball role either; now all of a sudden it was the best thing that I ever passed up?” She folded her arms underneath her breasts and pouted.
Unfazed by her temper tantrum, Edward leaned back and propped his feet up on the desk. “You gambled and we lost. Now, Imani, I like you and I believe in your talent, but you’re not one of my most profitable clients. If either of us has a plan to make any money, we have to get you out there and make your name stand out in a crowd. This is a start. I don’t want to have to drop you, but you’ve got to do something. This show can build your image. Look at how famous lots of people who have no acting ability have gotten—all from the exposure of reality TV. We can turn that fame into big movie roles and those Broadway shows that you want.”
Imani chewed on the end of her sculptured nail, pondering what he’d said to her. It had been hard for her to get signed by a reputable agent. Before meeting Edward, she’d been scammed by so-called talent agents who wanted to put her in B-list movies and soft-core pornography films.
At least Edward had done his best to get her roles in blockbuster movies and hit stage productions, even if she didn’t agree with him at the moment. He’d steered her away from the typical chitlin’ circuit plays that young actresses found themselves acting in and from becoming typecast as a neck-rolling, finger-wagging stereotype.
But now, he and Imani were desperate.
“Eddie, I’m trying, but these reality shows are just so beneath me, and the images that they portray are not the best. Sometimes the women on these shows are just dumb looking, slutty, or bitchy. I’m none of the above.”
“It pays fifteen thousand dollars up front. It’s only ten weeks and you might even get voted off before the show is over. The concept is simple. You get teamed up with a bachelor, do some physical challenges, and America votes to see if you and your partner should get married. Just make a splash and watch the scripts and offers come rolling in.”
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