Twists and Curves - A Sexy BWWM Interracial BBW Romance Novella from Steam Books (Romantica)

by Sinclair, Sandra

  “When we come back, we’ll hear a performance from Shane McFiggins.”

  As the crowd broke into applause, following the cue card, Yolanda leaned towards Shane. “You’re doing a great job.”

  “I am?” Shane sounded happy. “Well, that’s because you’re the one I’m talking to. I guess you just have a way of bringing out the best in people.”

  Yolanda blushed, that second compliment taking her even more by surprise than the first. What’s more, she knew now that he was being sincere, since he was complimenting her even though the cameras were not on them and the microphones were not hot.

  Still, she tried to keep herself composed, reminding herself that she was a grown woman and not a teenage girl. “Thank you. Good luck on your performance.”

  “I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

  Before she could say any more, a production assistant came to lead him to the other stage, which had already been prepared for him. He sat on the stool and took his guitar, then adjusted the microphone and tested it before plucking a few strings on his guitar, making sure that it was ready to go.

  All throughout, she watched him intently, feeling drawn to him, and when the show continued and he performed, she kept her eyes on him, shifting every now and then from his face to his long, elegant fingers caressing the strings of his guitar so skillfully.

  She was impressed, and not just because there had been no time for a rehearsal on stage. Each time she shifted her gaze up, their eyes would meet and each time they did, she felt her heart race, the warmth in them seemingly igniting a fire inside her and the way he looked at her making her feel as if he was singing only for her.

  She managed not to faint, however, standing and applauding when he was done with his performance before going over to give him a congratulatory hug. Shane returned the embrace, and it didn’t feel as though it was simply out of politeness.

  “Shane McFiggins, everyone,” she said as she turned to the audience. “Hope you enjoyed the show. Have a great weekend. Good night.”

  Reluctantly, she left Shane’s side to greet the members of her audience, doing her best to give a sensible reply to their questions and remarks and keep her smile authentic even though part of her kept wishing that she was backstage, worrying that Shane could leave at any moment before the two of them had a chance to talk some more.

  She didn’t know exactly why, but she felt as if they had something between them, chemistry perhaps, or some strong connection she had never shared with anyone before, and she was very curious to find out where it could lead.

  The moment she saw him backstage, she felt a huge wave of relief. No, it was not just relief. It was joy.

  “I thought you’d gone home already,” she said, grinning at him.

  “I just wanted to repeat my invitation,” he said.

  “Invitation?” She pretended not to remember. “Oh, you mean that one about going to meet your dog, Moses?”

  Shane nodded. “Will tomorrow evening be alright, or is it too soon?”

  “Tomorrow?” Yolanda could not conceal her surprise.

  “Too soon, huh?”

  “No, it’s fine,” Yolanda said quickly. “Tomorrow is Saturday so it’s fine.”

  “I’ll pick you up at around six?”

  “You know my address?”

  “No, but I’m hoping you’ll give it to me,” Shane said. “Maybe I can give you my number first, then you can send me your address later.”

  “Sure, that works,” Yolanda said, hoping he did not see how excited she was.

  “Great. Here’s my number.” He handed her a piece of paper.

  “Alright. I’ll send you my address later tonight.”

  He nodded. “Drive safely. See you tomorrow.”

  “See you.”

  He walked away while Yolanda remained glued where she stood, too stunned by how things had happened so quickly and turned out so smoothly to move.

  After a while, though, she grinned, feeling really pleased with herself.

  Roy Carmichael had done his best to ruin tonight’s show and yet it had turned out to be one of her best. Not only had all her guests been wonderful, but she had also managed to meet an amazing man, one she had thought existed only in her dreams.

  Until now.

  She let out a deep breath. She had a feeling that nothing Roy Carmichael did could get to her now.

  Or so she thought.

  Chapter Three

  When Yolanda woke up the next day, she was still in a good mood, the image of Shane’s smiling face and the thought that she was going to see him later that day – she wasn’t sure if she should call it a date or not – the first things that popped into her head.

  She drew back the curtains, her smile widening at the sunlight that poured into the room, as if the universe itself was telling her it was going to be a perfect day. Cheered, she went to the bathroom to freshen up before changing into her yoga clothes and doing her routines in the corner of her living room. For a time after she had moved to New York, she had stopped doing yoga, but had realized just how important it was after having an anxiety attack, one of the worst experiences of her life.

  Then again, it had also been a turning point, bringing her back to yoga and more importantly, making her realize she should stop worrying about things that didn’t really matter, like what other people said out of jealousy or past relationships, which, in turn, made her more confident. That had been the start of the rise in her career.

  After her session, she took a shower, turned on some music in the living room and ate breakfast, though she supposed it should already be called brunch since it was past ten. Afterwards, she washed the dishes and was about to read the day’s newspaper and some magazines by the porch when she heard the doorbell ring.

  “Now, who could that be?”

  Setting down the pile of magazines she had just picked up on the coffee table, she quickly retrieved the cardigan draped on the arm of the couch, slipped into it and walked to the door.

  “Who is it?” she asked as she looked through the peephole.

  “I have delivery for Ms. Yolanda Gray,” the delivery man, who wore a blue and white shirt and a blue cap and held what looked like a heart-shaped box of Belgian chocolates in his hand, answered.

  “Oh.” Yolanda wasn’t really expecting any packages or any delivery at all, but upon seeing the box, her heart skipped a beat and she opened the draw.

  At once, her jaw dropped as she saw all the bouquets of flowers in the hall.

  “Ms. Gray?” The delivery man handed her the box in his arms, which was indeed what she thought it was. “Sign here, please.”

  Yolanda nodded. She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm as she signed the document the delivery man presented her.

  “Would you like me to bring the flowers inside?” he asked.

  “Yes, please,” she said, opening the door wide.

  She directed him to where he could put the flowers, then thanked him. Even after he had left, though, she sat on the arm of her couch with the box of chocolates on her lap and stared at the flowers, still in shock.

  She was so in shock, in fact, that it took her a while to realize that she had not asked who the gifts were from.

  Standing up, she approached the bouquets until she found one with a note, and opened it.

  To Miss Yolanda Gray,

  Please enjoy these until we can enjoy each other’s company again.

  Shane

  Grinning, she folded the note then sat on a dining chair. Carefully, she opened the box of chocolates, her grin widening when she saw that they were dark chocolate pralines, her favorite—holy shit, he must really watch the show—she ate one and then another, intoxicated by the exquisite sweetness and by the time she knew it, she had finished half of the box.

  She reprimanded herself but not too much, justifying that she deserved to indulge herself in the finer things once in a while and that at least when Shane asked about the chocolates she would be able to t
ell him how they really were.

  With an inkling of reluctance, she closed the box and had just placed it inside one of her cupboards when the phone rang.

  Thinking it must be Shane, she quickly answered it. “Hello.”

  “So a little bird told me you and Shane were going on a date later.” Deana’s voice sounded on the line.

  Yolanda pushed away the tinge of disappointment she felt as she sat on the couch. “It’s not a date.”

  “But you are going to see him?”

  “Yes, I’m going to meet his dog like he asked me to on the show.”

  “Just meet his dog?” Deana sounded a bit dismayed. “Anyway, you should have told me.”

  “I would have told you about it if you had stayed after the show.”

  “Told you I had an errand to run, didn’t I? You should have called.”

  Yolanda nodded. “Right. Sorry. I guess I got too excited.”

  “I would be, too.”

  “And I’m even more excited now since he gave me flowers and chocolates.”

  “He what?”

  Yolanda could imagine her friend gaping and she chuckled. “You heard me.”

  “Lots of them?”

  “A lot of the flowers and…” She suddenly stopped as she felt her stomach spasm. I must have eaten too many chocolates, she thought worriedly.

  “And? What kind of flowers? What kind of chocolates?”

  She set her worry aside. “Have I ever told you that you should have been a reporter?”

  “Many times. Well?”

  She grinned. “Roses and carnations and orchids and lilies, I think. I can’t name the rest. And Belgian white chocolate pralines with…” She stopped again, the spasm in her stomach accompanied by a stab of pain which made her clutch it.

  “With?” Deana demanded obliviously.

  Yolanda took a deep breath. “With different fillings like hazelnut and mint and lemon and…Ouch!” She was unable to suppress the cry of pain as she clutched her stomach tighter.

  “Yolanda?” Deana asked, concerned.

  “I’m fine,” Yolanda tried to assure her. “I think I just ate too many chocolates.”

  “You finished the whole box?”

  “I…” She winced, another stab of pain hitting her, seemingly spreading throughout her body. “I have to go. I’ll call you back later.”

  “Okay. But are you…?”

  Yolanda hung up and dashed to the bathroom. She didn’t know why, but all of a sudden she had a feeling that her day wasn’t going to be perfect after all.

  ~ ~ ~

  Yup, her perfect day had gone down the drain, Yolanda thought two hours later as she threw herself on her bed and curled a fetal position with one of her large pillows pressed to her abdomen.

  She had already gone to the bathroom several times, so many times that she had gotten sick of staring at the marble tiles between her feet or at the towel hanging from the back of the bathroom door, and yet, her stomach still felt as if World War III was raging on inside.

  What on earth was happening?

  A larger part of her knew the chocolates were too blame, not just because she had eaten too much – she had eaten more before as far as she could remember without running into any problems – but probably because there was something in the chocolates – maybe the fillings had gone bad? Another part of her, though, refusing to blame Shane, wondered if it could be something she ate during breakfast. Perhaps it was the jam she spread on her toast or the orange juice, or the asparagus sticks.

  Whatever the reason was, she felt miserable, more miserable than she had ever felt in a long time. Aside from the fact that her stomach was hurting, she could feel her head starting to hurt, too, and she closed her eyes, thinking that maybe if she went to sleep, when she woke up, she would feel all better.

  And she had to feel better or she would miss her ‘date’ with Shane, which she had already decided she wouldn’t for the world.

  After two more trips to the bathroom and a pain reliever for her headache, she finally managed to doze off.

  When she woke up, it was already past four and panicking, she got out of bed only to fall on the floor, her legs weak and her stomach still feeling weird.

  Shit.

  She sat on the floor, her head resting on the edge of the bed so that she was staring at the ceiling as she wondered what she was supposed to do now. The mere thought of cancelling her date with Shane was unthinkable but at the same time, she knew she couldn’t go in this state. She wasn’t even sure she could set foot outside her apartment.

  Shit.

  She was still contemplating her situation when the phone rang. This time, she picked it up lazily, thinking it was Deana checking on her but she immediately sat up when she heard what was unmistakably Shane’s voice on the other end of the line.

  “Shane? Hi.”

  “Surprised?”

  “A little,” she admitted.

  “I was just calling to see if I got your address right before I got ready to leave the house,” he said. “It’s…”

  “Um, actually,” Yolanda interrupted. “I hate to cut in but there’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Yes?”

  Yolanda bit her lip, silently uttered a curse and said, “I don’t think I can come.”

  “Oh.” The disappointment in his voice made her want to crawl under her bed. “Can I ask why?”

  “Why?” Yolanda paused as her mind raced to come up with an excuse. Since she had not fully decided to cancel her appointment with Shane until now, she had not began to come up with an excuse, and now, she desperately tried to conjure one. She couldn’t just tell him that she got sick because of the chocolates he gave, after all, even if that could very well be the truth.

  “I’m not feeling well.”

  She wanted to punch herself for giving such a cliché excuse but at least, it was the truth.

  “You’re not?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing serious,” she told him, not wanting him to worry. “I just have a headache and I feel like I’m coming down with a cold or something.”

  “Oh.”

  “Maybe we can reschedule?” she asked hopefully.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  He hang up and she leaned back on the edge of her bed, frowning. What could fate probably have against her to treat her this way?

  After just a few minutes, the phone rang again. She answered the call, thinking Shane was calling her a second time. He did say he would call later, after all.

  “Yes?” she spoke into the receiver.

  “How are you feeling, Ms. Yolanda Gray?”

  The voice made Yolanda sit up but for a different reason, a chill going up her spine at the same time that she felt her chest tighten in anger.

  “Roy Carmichael,” she spoke the name of her caller with disgust. “I don’t believe I was expecting a call from you.”

  “A fact which wounds me greatly, Ms. Gray,” Roy said. “Or should I call you ‘Yolanda’?”

  “I would prefer it if you didn’t call me at all.”

  “Now, now, let’s not be rude,” Roy said. “I’m sure you let that country singer call you by your first name after the show, didn’t you?” He clicked his tongue. “I should have made a call to his label.”

  “Well, you didn’t, which just goes to show you can’t control everything.”

  “I made a mistake, alright,” he admitted. “But I assure you I am making sure it is rectified.”

  “Give up, Roy Carmichael,” she told him bravely. “You’ll never have me.”

  “Just as I thought, you figured out my plans. Then again, I knew you were clever for a woman.”

  Yolanda snorted.

  “By the way, did you like the gifts I sent you? The Belgian chocolates in particular?”

  Yolanda stiffened. Then, as the realization hit her, she shouted, “You bastard!”

  Roy
laughed. “So you did like them, after all, or at least, liked them well enough to try them. Did you enjoy them?”

  “You won’t get away with this,” she said, seething.

  “I think I already did,” he said. “But you know, I can stop going through with my other plans if you accept my invitation. Would you like to come be my guest at my house, Yolanda? We could start all over.”

  “Never,” she answered through gritted teeth.

  He chuckled. “I was afraid you’d say that. Well then, this is just the beginning. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something to attend to. Goodbye, Yolanda. Do enjoy your weekend.”

  “Why you…!”

  The line went dead, Yolanda filling up the silence that ensued with a string of curses.

  So it was Roy Carmichael who had given her the chocolates and flowers, after all. Now, she was sure the chocolates were to blame. Knowing him, he probably put something in them, like laxatives.

  She clutched her stomach as she felt another spasm.

  Very strong laxatives.

  Muttering another curse, she dashed to the bathroom, throwing one of the bouquets on the floor along the way.

  Damn that Roy Carmichael!

  She had thought she had outwitted him, that he would no longer bother her, but clearly, she was wrong. She should have known a man like him didn’t really understand the word ‘No’ or take it for an answer, should have known that Roy would have easily found out what her favorite chocolates were whereas Shane probably wouldn’t know. She had been careless, which was why right now, she was paying hell.

  She would have to be very careful from now on.

  ~ ~ ~

  When the doorbell rang at around half past seven, Yolanda didn’t bother walking to the door. She simply shouted, “If you’re the delivery man or some millionaire’s henchman pretending to be one, Yolanda Gray isn’t at home!”

  “And if I’m not?” the voice from beyond the door asked hopefully.

  Yolanda stopped in her tracks. She couldn’t believe it, but that voice sounded like…

  “If I’m not, is Yolanda Gray home?”