“Okay,” she mumbled, feeling overwhelmed by the new, responsible Shawn. She’d viewed him as a loser and the person responsible for ruining her life for so long, she was baffled by how quickly her heart was softening toward him.
“I gotta head out. So, look…uh, make sure Yuri calls me when he wakes up.”
“Okay. I will.”
“Aye, I’m out.” Shawn sent Vangie a smile that was soft and sexy. His eyes roved over her breasts and hips, seeming to penetrate her cotton nightshirt.
Is Shawn flirting with me? Nah, there’s no chemistry between us anymore. I’m trippin’ because I really need to get laid.
CHAPTER 9
Nivea looked through the peephole and was shocked to see her mother standing on the other side of the door. Her mother hardly ever visited her. Nivea wasn’t in the mood. She thought about tiptoeing to her bedroom, and ignoring the doorbell. But guilt made her open the door. She didn’t have the heart to leave her mother standing outside in the cold.
“Hello, Mother. What brings you out in the cold?”
Looking grim, Denise Westcott stepped inside. She pulled off her knit hat, shook out shiny salt and pepper curls that gave off that fresh-from-the-hair-salon whiff.
“Your hair looks nice,” Nivea mumbled.
Mrs. Westcott came out of her coat and gloves. “We have to have a serious discussion.”
Oh, God! I’m going to faint if my mother knows about Eric’s double life.
“I need a cup of coffee.” Her mother rubbed her hands together, warming them.
“I’ll make some.” Nivea plodded to the kitchen wearing a bathroom and slippers. She couldn’t imagine what was so important that her mother felt the need to make a personal visit.
“You’re normally an early riser. Why were you still in bed?”
“I’m grown, Mother; I can get up when I please.” Lips pursed in aggravation, she scooped coffee from a Starbucks bag.
“Excuse me for being a concerned parent.” Mrs. Westcott took a seat at the kitchen table.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Your wedding.” Her mother’s tone was morose.
Nivea took a deep breath. “I was going to tell you later on today, but since you’re here…well, my wedding plans have changed.”
“Don’t tell me Eric has gotten cold feet!”
“No, we’re still getting married. But we decided to change the date and trim down the guest list.”
Mrs. Westcott shook her head woefully. “Why are you downsizing your wedding? Money troubles?”
“No. It’s not about money. Eric and I decided that we want a more intimate ceremony.” Her body was aching from fighting Eric. She was physically and emotionally drained from yesterday’s disastrous incident. Having to cook up a story for her mother was depleting her of her last bit of strength. And sanity.
Nivea quietly poured coffee into two mugs. She wanted to collapse inside her mother’s arms, and blab the whole sordid story. But she couldn’t breathe a word about Eric’s secret son. Too embarrassing.
“Something’s not adding up,” her mother said suspiciously. “When is the new date?”
“Next month.”
“Why so soon?”
Her mother was acting like a detective, snooping and asking so many questions, Nivea was starting to sweat. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It’s my wedding; I can change the date if I want to.”
“Out of nowhere, you want to change your date and downsize. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes sense to Eric and me.” Nivea raised her voice a notch.
“Then why are you so upset? Something’s wrong. I can hear the anxiety in your voice.”
“You don’t hear anxiety in my voice; you hear joy!” What a dumb lie! Trying to cover up Eric’s deception was giving Nivea a headache. She closed her eyes and rubbed her throbbing forehead.
“You can try and deceive someone that doesn’t know you, but you can’t fool me.”
Anxious under her mother’s scrutiny, Nivea’s hand tightened around the handle of the coffee mug.
Mrs. Westcott leaned forward, and patted Nivea’s fisted hand. “Are you pregnant, honey? Is that the reason you want to speed up the wedding?” Her mother kept a sharp eye on Nivea’s face, reading her expression.
“Of course not!” A lump formed in her throat as she pictured Eric’s love child. She should be the one with Eric’s baby…not that trashy Dyeesha. “Mother, what do you want to talk about?”
Mrs. Westcott took a sip of coffee and then set the mug down. “Your sister is getting married, and she didn’t have the heart to tell you that she has to focus on her own wedding…she can’t be your maid of honor.”
Courtney’s getting married? It was disturbing news, but Nivea kept a straight face. “I wanted my friend, Vangie, to be my maid of honor, but I listened to you. I allowed you to pressure me into accepting Courtney.”
“You’re off the hook now.”
“It doesn’t really matter, now.”
“You’re right. Your father and I were waiting for the appropriate time to tell you that Courtney selected a date two weeks before your wedding.”
“Two weeks before my wedding? You’ve got to be kidding me. That brat is always trying to upstage me.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Mother, it’s so unfair. Why would you and Daddy go along with that?”
“Well, it’s water over the bridge now that you’ve changed your date.”
“You didn’t know that when you agreed with Courtney’s selfish decision.”
“Courtney didn’t want to steal your thunder, but she and Knox have gotten pretty serious.”
Nivea could feel a hot jealous flush covering her face and moving down her body. “How long has she known him…like a couple of months?”
“They’re in love.” Mrs. Westcott beamed like she was marrying Knox.
“This seriously sucks. My little sister takes a temp job as a receptionist at Temple’s School of Podiatric Medicine. She dates one of the students. And now they’re suddenly getting married! Mother, can’t you see what she’s doing?”
“What is she doing, besides following her heart? There’s no crime in that.”
“Bullshit!”
“Watch your language.”
“Sorry, but—”
“Your sister and Knox say that they’re in love. Your father and I believe them.”
Nivea sucked her teeth in annoyance. “Courtney is an unskilled, unemployable spoiled brat who still lives at home with you and Daddy. She’s only marrying this guy, Knox, to make me look bad.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it isn’t. She’s been competing with me her whole life; now she’s trying to make me the laughingstock.”
“If you feel that you’re being upstaged, then it’s your own fault. You and Eric want to downsize your wedding, so go ahead. I won’t try and stop you. Courtney wants a big wedding and your father and I are going to make sure she has one.”
“That’s my point, Mother. I’ve had to work hard to be a success, but Courtney gets everything handed to her on a silver platter.”
“You can’t blame your sister for having the good sense to marry someone who can take care of her,” her mother snidely commented.
“I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” Nivea shot back.
“I know you can, Nivea,” her mother said in a softer tone. “There’s nothing wrong with allowing a man to take care of you. It’s natural for woman to desire the kind of man who can be relied on to provide for her.”
Though spoken gently, her mother’s words hurt deeply. “Are you going to pretend that Courtney isn’t marrying that fake doctor?”
“There’s nothing fake about podiatry.”
“Knox is studying podiatric medicine, Mother! Oh my God, don’t you realize that podiatrists are so low on the totem pole; they’re not even recognized as real doctors.
”
“I beg to differ, young lady.”
“Seriously, they don’t earn—”
“He’s going to earn plenty and watch your mouth.”
“Bullshit! I’m grown, so don’t tell me to watch my mouth. This is my house and—”
“You sound bitter, Nivea,” her mother interrupted. “You sound bitter and jealous of your baby sister.”
“I have no reason to be jealous of her. I’m just saying…Courtney is always trying to outdo me. And you and Daddy…you guys allow it. I can’t believe you’re both eager to co-sign on her decision to marry a damn foot fetishist!”
“Knox is ambitious. I’ll have you know that his family’s church is one hundred percent behind him. That young man’s church is raising money to get him set up in private practice.”
“It takes a lot more than some church donations to set up a practice.”
“Knox is going to buy out one of the parishioner’s practice. I’ve obviously overstayed my welcome.” Denise set the coffee mug on the kitchen table and stood.
Nivea followed her mother into the living room. She silently watched her mother slide into her coat. “Listen, Nivea. Nobody is out to get you,” Mrs. Westcott said as she pulled her hat on her head. “It’s your own fault that you chose to marry that grubby, uneducated, warehouse worker.”
Leaving Nivea to marinate on those last hurtful words, Denise Westcott slammed the door behind her.
CHAPTER 10
Over the phone, Harlow finished telling Vangie her account of the Water Nymph incident. “Testosterone levels were high, girl. There was all kinds of crazy on that boat. I don’t ever want to be stuck in the middle of the ocean on a private yacht again.”
“The way Drake defended your honor sounds extremely romantic,” Vangie said dreamily.
“I couldn’t even enjoy my moment. I felt like I was in a scene from a gangster flick. Those Africans were reaching for pistols, and Alphonso and Drake weren’t backing down.”
“Mmm. Alphonso is starting to sound real good. When are you going to hook us up? You know I love bad boys.”
“I’m serious, Vangie. There was nothing funny about that situation. They were talking about spilling blood and tossing mofos to the sharks. And I couldn’t talk any sense into Drake. He was so furious, he was ready to wage a war on the ship. I’ve honestly never seen that side of him, Vangie. He was scary.”
“Scary enough to call off the wedding? I know you’re not tryna take that big bling off your finger.”
“Hell no!” Harlow laughed. “Oh, Vangie, can you believe it? Drake and I are engaged!”
“Congrats, girl. But you’re leaving something out.”
“No, I’m not.”
“What else is Drake into? I wouldn’t think that someone in the business of selling cars would need an armed bodyguard.”
“Drake is constantly dealing with large money transactions—that’s why he keeps Alphonso close by. After that frightening episode with Talib, he needs more than one guard. My baby needs to be protected by a security team.”
“Don’t you think you need to know a little bit more about what he’s into?”
“It’s not my business.”
“It will be. Now that you’re engaged, Drake’s business is your business.”
“I guess,” Harlow said, sounding pensive.
“Have you set a date?”
“Not yet. We’ll do that after the holidays.”
“First dibs on maid of honor,” Vangie blurted. “You gotta give me the sympathy vote since Nivea’s getting married in six months.”
“You know Niv and I aren’t all that tight. She’s your friend. I just put up with her. You’re definitely going to be my maid of honor.”
“Thanks. I’m feeling a little down, though.”
“Why?”
“Nivea’s engaged. You’re engaged. I feel like a reject.”
“You’ll find someone, Vangie. It took me a lifetime of kissing frogs to find my Prince Charming.”
“You’re a lucky woman, Harlow. And Drake’s a lucky man. You and Drake are making me want to believe that the concept of true love is more than a myth. I wish I could meet a man like Drake. Why won’t you introduce me to his man, Alphonso?”
“I want you to find someone, but I’m not sure if Alphonso is the right fit for you. You’re all chatty and happy go lucky. Alphonso is all about business. He hardly ever talks, and never cracks a smile.”
“Sounds sexy. Come on, Harlow; introduce us. Let me be the judge of who’s the right fit for me.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to Drake about it.”
CHAPTER 11
Drake made a series of business calls while Harlow swam laps in their private pool. Exhausted, she grabbed the ledge and pulled herself out of the crystal blue water. Eyeing her with admiration, Drake reclined on a lounge chair. “You swim like a fish, baby. Lemme find out you got some mermaid blood.”
Harlow laughed. “I used to fantasize about being a mermaid and living in a kingdom under the sea. But unfortunately I’m completely human. With human fears. That said, I have a question for you.”
His expression impassive, Drake stroked his chin. “What’s on your mind?”
“Do you have some gangster tendencies that I don’t know about?”
Drake didn’t answer. Looking briefly pensive, he shifted his position. His jawline tightened as he laced his fingers together.
“I thought Alphonso was your right-hand man,” Harlow went on. “But now he seems more like a bodyguard.”
Drake studied her for a moment, and then finally said, “I’m sorry you had to go through that this morning. But on some real shit, it wasn’t about anything.”
“Oh, really? The way Alphonso and Talib’s security people were patting their waistbands and revealing weapons, it seemed pretty damn serious to me.”
“Talib was trying me; that’s all. Now that he and his goons know how I’m built, we can amend this deal to work in my favor.”
“I don’t trust Talib. He’s a loose cannon. Do you really think it’s wise to do business with someone as young and impulsive as Talib?”
With a hand motion, Drake dismissed the notion of Talib being a threat. “Talib’s nothing but talk. A spoiled rich kid; that’s all.”
Harlow brought a towel to her head, drying her hair that had spiraled into curls. “You were awfully bold, Drake. Seemed foolish of you to deliberately antagonize men carrying guns.”
“I had my piece on me.”
Harlow flinched. She removed the towel from her head, and let it drape around her shoulders. “You carry a weapon?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“I didn’t even know that you owned a gun. I can’t imagine you using one.” She looked at Drake questioningly. “You’re a Yale graduate…a businessman. How can you switch from being dignified and respectable to being a gun-toting thug?”
“I got some thug in me,” he admitted with a quick smile.
Harlow didn’t return the smile.
Drake’s eyes became dark and serious. “I have to protect myself. And I have to protect you. I’m going to do what I have to do to keep us safe; even if it means pulling a trigger,” he said without a trace of regret.
“I don’t feel like I know you as well as I thought.”
“Unfortunately, you caught a glimpse of my other side. You weren’t supposed to see that. Had I known shit was gon’ get ugly, I wouldn’t have brought you on the ship.” Drake blew out a harsh breath of air. “I didn’t know that Talib couldn’t hold his liquor.”
“I’m still processing the fact that you carry a weapon. You’re working on a strange business deal…” Harlow paused, studying Drake closely. “You proposed to me. You say that you want to get married.”
“I do.”
“There shouldn’t be secrets between us,” she said softly, looking away after the words came out of her mouth. She had her own secrets, and she wondered where she’d draw the strength to tell Drake the co
mplete truth about her past.
Drake shifted his position. “To an extent, you’re right. I do need to be forthcoming about certain things…like faithfulness, but I don’t need to report to you about my business dealings. I don’t want you worrying needlessly.”
“If there’s nothing to worry about, then why would I?”
“You’re worrying right now. Look at you, with your pretty face all twisted up.”
“Stop teasing me, Drake. If your business is legitimate, why do you need to carry a gun?”
“Now you’re prying. You’re expecting too much if you think I’m going to give you a rundown of every aspect of my business practices. You’ll always be safe with me. I love you, Harlow, and I’ll never let anything happen to you. That’s all you need to know.”
There was nothing Harlow could say.
Responding to Harlow’s sad expression, Drake held out his arms. “Come here, baby.” He folded her into a long consoling hug.
Drake had secrets, too. His refusal to tell her why he needed a bodyguard and a weapon when conducting business made her less guilty about confessing to wrong deeds that she couldn’t undo.
A hand touched her in the pitch-black night. Her body stiffened. Fingers brushed across her hip. Harlow gasped and jolted awake, opening her eyes to impenetrable darkness. Oh, no! She lay motionless, holding her breath, and fearfully biting down on her lip. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep, he’d leave her alone and go away.
But he was already in bed with her. She could feel the heat of his body next to hers. Fear clung to every fiber of her being. As her eyes darted wildly, she could see shadows everywhere. Then her vision slowly began to adjust to the darkness. She made out the vibrant colors of tropical artwork. A soothing sea breeze wafted through lace curtains, revealing wicker chairs on the balcony. Everything within her eyesight evoked peace. I’m safe, she told herself as she waited for her pulse to slow down.
“Drake?” she spoke his name questioningly, as if checking to make sure it was really he and not some monster from her past lying beside her.
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