“Anything else for you?” The waiter stood over her, blocking out the sun that broke through the clouds.
“Another one of these.” She held up her empty glass with a celery stick and lemon wedge still attached. Sirena loved Manhattan this time of year. Late fall meant it was cold enough to wear her Tory Burch boots without worrying about the humidity leaving water spots on the leather. The morning crowd was already cleared out of the French bistro.
Well, nearly empty, with the exception of the older couple who’d wanted to know how long the two of them had been married. “Hardly,” she’d scoffed while flashing the eight-karat ring on her finger. She was engaged to one of the richest men in the world. She hadn’t worked her ass off to be married to some actor-slash-ex-rapper, with no guaranteed future—at least that’s what she kept telling herself. But it didn’t stop the yearning, the wish for a second chance.
Sirena looked around when his phone buzzed again. She picked it up and saw that a message had been left. It was instantaneous, sliding her finger across to unlock it and then pushing delete. Like she had no control over her fingers. Way too easy. They had the exact same phones given by the product placement sponsors as gifts. The new slick styles came in shimmering colors. Hers was bronze with rhinestones, his was solid silver. Good thing or she’d never have known to delete the deleted calls too. Few men would’ve left their phone behind in a woman’s presence, Jake especially. When she’d first started in the industry, he was the one who taught her if a man’s lips were moving, he was lying. The women in the industry were even worse. It was a sure bet whoever was smiling in your face had just gotten through calling you a skank-ho behind your back.
But eventually you had to trust someone. They had each other’s back. She longed for that feeling again.
“Hey, there.” Her full cheeks went into a quick smile. Jake sat down and picked up his phone out of habit. The light came up clear with no sign whatsoever she’d played with it. “What time is it?” she asked since he was looking at the screen.
“Ten forty.”
He stretched and yawned. While his arms were still in the air he signaled the waiter with a scribble in the air to bring him the check.
“Guess I’m not the only insomniac.”
“Yeah, I’m ready to be in my own bed. All this city hopping is for the birds. Can’t get a good night’s sleep.”
“I thought you were having fun.” Her lids dropped and she picked at her nails. Though she really did no damage. Her acrylic nails were stronger than bulletproof glass.
“You’re talking to the old dude who’s used to lights-out by ten, remember?”
“You used to be such fun. Most people don’t get a second chance, Jay.” Sirena batted her lashes before raising her eyes to him. She’d expected him to understand her meaning. When he didn’t catch the bait she moved on. “I don’t think you should waste it by trying to get your eight hours of sleep. Next thing you’ll tell me you hate loud music.”
He nodded in agreement.
“Don’t even try it,” she said.
He kept nodding. “I might work with music all day, but when the shop is closed, I’m all about some Coltrane, a little Maze. Slow and easy.”
“You’re pitiful.” She turned to the waiter who was leaving the check and her Bloody Mary. “Bring this stick-in-the-mud another burned cognac.”
“I haven’t finished the first one.”
“While I’m working on my third. There you go.”
He cocked his head with a disapproving glare. “We have one more stop. You might want to slow down.”
“What? I’m just trying to help you live a little. You’re thirty-four. So what you’re married? Doesn’t mean you have to turn in your fun card.”
“Actually …”
“Pitiful.” Sirena raised a finger. “And don’t let me get started on how you used to break loose, doing the moonwalk after just one drink. Now I can’t get you to smile.”
“I had a mean moonwalk, didn’t I?” This time his perfect, smooth lips curved in a slight smile. “I hope you don’t misinterpret my mild manner for being unhappy. That’s one thing I can say, I love my life,” Jake announced. “I love my life.” He took the warmed cognac when it arrived and swirled it before taking a sip. He swirled a second time and seemed to get lost in the motion.
Jake’s tastes hadn’t changed. He was a sucker for sophistication. A tastefully aged cognac and the scent of a Cohiba cigar were the equivalent of a girl’s all-inclusive spa day topped off with a shopping spree with someone else’s credit card. Right then and there, she wished she had a specially-imported cigar to give him. She made a mental note. Call Leshawn, her cousin who worked as her assistant, tell her to order a full box of the best. Only the best.
“I didn’t say you weren’t happy. I just think you could be enjoying this moment. Living in the present moment and enjoying this time of success. No one has everything they want, but when you get damn close you could at least take a moment to appreciate it.”
“What about you?” He leaned back in his chair, feeling lighter and more relaxed already. One sip and his wide shoulders seemed to spread like wings. “Do you appreciate the moment of having everything you’ve ever dreamed of? As I recall, you were determined to be right where you are right now. Is it all it’s cracked up to be?”
His entrancing dark eyes pierced through her. The beauty of a confident man was only surpassed by one who was modest as well. He had no idea how fast her heart was beating, or how the heat swelled between her legs. She wanted to open wide in hope of a cool breeze.
“I’m where I want to be. Yes,” she managed to say. “The last five or so years of blood, sweat, and tears guaranteed my having anything I want.” She had a personal masseuse, chef, shopping sprees with no limit, but there was only one thing she was missing.
Notoriety, fame, and money didn’t change the quality of men she had to choose from. The fine ones generally turned out to be dogs. If they were half decent, but had baller status, they generally turned out to be dogs. If they had no looks, and no baller status … they also turned out to be dogs. Once she’d embraced this truth, it only made sense to find a man with unlimited bank, who could at least spend her happy. Earl Benning knew how to do just that. He’d made his first hundred million as a record producer for teenybopper boy bands. Now he ran one of the largest recording labels in the country. Including a sprawling ocean-view mansion in Malibu. He spared no expense when it came to Sirena. She deserved the very best and he made sure she had it. So why wasn’t that enough?
“Jay, there’s only one thing I’m missing.” She flipped her long hair over one shoulder and stroked while she yearned for the courage to tell him exactly what was on her mind.
“Let me guess, a family. A baby,” Jake said almost in a sneer. Yes, the cognac was doing a fine job of relaxing him. A little too lax. He’d veered down a road she’d hoped had been roped off years ago. But he was still holding on.
Now, sitting across from Jake made her achingly sad. “I’m sorry, for the nine thousandth time—okay?”
He took another sip and swirl. “Apology accepted for the nine thousandth time.”
Screw you! She wanted to scream, Where were you? Instead she calmly replied, “Let’s stay on the subject, okay? Don’t try to ignore what I’m telling you. We make a good team …” She paused when the waiter came to pour more ice water in the already full glasses. Nosy. Always looking to sell information. “Scratch that, we make an unstoppable team. Number-one record on Billboard. Movie is about to release to blockbuster status straight out the gate. We did this, me and you.”
Her father had loved Jake the first time she’d brought him home, telling her he was the perfect man for her. All those years ago and she couldn’t agree more. But back then she didn’t appreciate his maturity and reasoning everything to death. He wasn’t trying to flex. He was all about business.
It was her best attempt at flipping the ball back in her court. She didn’t w
ant to talk about the mistake she made all those years ago. Meanwhile she drank two more Marys. Jake left cash for the check then escorted her out. Times like this just made her more crazy. Any other man would’ve taken advantage of the opportunity. Blurry-eyed and giggling at the slightest eye contact as if everyone shared her secret. I’m in love with this married man and he couldn’t care less. But I knew him first. She would only need him to love her up for one shining moment where she could feel worthy in his arms. Drink in his goodness and then she could walk away. She promised herself. Just once and she would walk away.
Group Hug
“Good morning,” I called out when I stepped through the floral doorway. I inhaled the sweet smell of flowers and greenery.
“Well, aren’t you in a cheerful mood.” Trevelle spun around on the stool. She opened her hands in a magician’s ta-dah to a spindly bouquet. “Look what I made. Isn’t it divine?” Near the foot of her stool were the spliced remnants of her creation.
My optimistic mood was hit with a sucker punch. Trevelle had chopped up the most expensive orchids and shoved them into a short vase.
“Why are you playing around with inventory? Expensive inventory.”
“I beg your pardon? Playing around.”
“I mean, it’s uh …” I stopped midway through ugly, but it was the only way to describe the monstrosity. I believed in karma. Maybe if I did five good deeds, starting with not insulting Trevelle, I could be on my way to a truly happy existence. Maybe I could hold on tight to the optimism I’d walked in with and not let her ruin my high hopes for good things to come my way.
“Here, add some filler.” I picked up a few fern stems and shoved them into the vase. “And some of these. And here …” When I was finished it was picture ready. However, Trevelle’s mouth had pulled into a straight line of dissatisfaction.
She was already up and moving toward my twenty-dollar-a-flower stash of imported orchids. It took everything I had not to lunge forward and protect them from her unskilled hands.
The phone began to ring. Saved by the bell. “In Bloom, where every day is a fantasy floral day. How can I help you?”
“Venus, this is Paige. Just wanted to remind you about the etiquette tea party tomorrow night.”
“I will be there,” I said, though I’d completely forgotten. I kept my eyes trained on Trevelle as her wedge heels stomped back to her workspace. She wiped her hands on her white denim, bedazzle-studded jeans—and this was dressing down for her. She was determined to start anew. She wasn’t going to let me ruin her masterful handiwork the same way I didn’t want her to destroy my mood.
“You have to be there early,” Paige pressed on. “As the leader you need to check in at least an hour ahead and make sure everything is set up perfectly.”
“I’m sure I can call ahead. The girls and I will be fine.”
“I’ve already called.” She was losing her patience, therefore her Southern politeness was being replaced by short, curt answers. I could almost feel her eyes narrowing. “Be there, early.”
“Paige, not to worry. Everything will be fine.” I hung up quickly. My beacon was still targeted on Trevelle. “You know, I really appreciate you being so creative. But I’d also appreciate it if you’d ask permission to use inventory.”
Her bracelets spoke for her, making loud snapping noises with her movement. Though she stayed silent like a sullen child, I knew darn well she heard my every word.
“Where’s Vince?” I finally asked. He would know how to turn her pouting into sweet and gooey kindness.
“On a delivery run.”
“And you didn’t go with him? What … trouble in paradise?”
“That would mean leaving the store during business hours. Seeing as how you were late as usual, I volunteered to stay behind to make it appear like you’re actually running a real establishment.”
“Yes. You are right. Thank you, Trevelle. I do appreciate all your help.”
“Don’t patronize me. I’ll have you know Mrs. McMurry came in earlier to check on things and she absolutely loved my creation. She requested three for the ceremony. I was in the process of filling that order when you bombarded in here adding your two ragged cents.” Trevelle wasted no time snatching out the greenery I’d added. Her bangle bracelets jangled with her every move. “You may have to admit you have an envy issue.”
“Envious of you?” I faced her holding a pair of stem trimmers. She gently scooted my hand to the right.
“Really, you give me nothing but grief when all I’m trying to do is help you.”
“Like you tried to help yourself to my child. Like now, how you’re trying to help yourself to Vince and my business?” Breathe. Inhale. Exhale.
The back door squeaked shut before I realized Vince had caught the tail end of our tête-a-tête. I was just as grateful to see him. Surely I was backsliding downhill fast with the whole goodness-and-lightness-of-being thing. Five good deeds had been expanded to ten just to make up for this counterattack toward Trevelle and her masquerade of being helpful.
“Ladies.” He eyed us cautiously. “I’m flattered you two are fighting over me, but please, there’s enough of me to go around.”
“She’s jealous that Mrs. McMurry liked my beautiful arrangement.” Trevelle held it up to show Vince.
He almost flinched. His lashes did a dance between us. “A thing of beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Vince said in my direction. “I think it’s quite lovely.”
“The mother of the bride absolutely loved it and demanded I make three more,” Trevelle sang out. Her melodic voice once had the power to heal and transform sinners. In my floral boutique her voice only served to remind me there wasn’t enough room for the three of us.
“An extra order, you see. It’s a win-win, situation,” Vince said, doing his best to mediate.
“Or here’s a thought—maybe Mrs. McMurry didn’t want to insult the great Trevelle Doval.” I gave a patronizing grin.
Trevelle’s bangles danced while she kept her monstrosity lifted for all to see. “She plans to put this right next to the guestbook to greet everyone. Two more for the bridesmaids’ and groomsmen’s tables. What do you think of that?”
Vince raised his muscular arms and hands for a truce. “Can’t argue with that.”
I could feel the karmic forces laughing at my ill attempts to turn the other cheek. “Everyone knows Trevelle on sight, at least in this town,” I countered. I wasn’t letting her get away with making me look like the bad guy, yet again. “She’s a household name. She’s a celebrity. Celebrities get treated like royalty, if you haven’t heard.”
“I beg your pardon. Celebrity? So receiving hundreds of hate e-mails daily makes me special?”
“I’m sure that’s a pittance to the amount of love letters you get. People are enamored with fame—doesn’t matter whether it’s because you killed someone or starred in a movie.”
“Whoa … hold on, now. I think we’re off the grid.” Vince stood up and handed me a yellow rose. “Flowers for the lady.” He handed a second rose to Trevelle. She inhaled and smiled like a schoolgirl headed to prom.
“I think she’s having a hard time accepting her hubby’s newfound celebrity status, that’s what I think.” Trevelle folded her arms over her chest with her one yellow rose, like Miss America.
“That true? Talk to us, we’re here for you.” Vince opened his arms for a group hug. He still found time to exercise religiously even though he had taken on the full-time job of Trevelle Doval.
I pressed fingers to my lips like I was going to be sick. “No thank you.”
“All right. Suit yourself, but it’s obvious you need some human contact. The days ahead are going to be harder if you go on like this. And frankly, I’m not willing to be around this kind of negativity.”
He was obviously making a threat. He had a subtle way of getting his messages across. I should’ve known better than snapping at Trevelle in front of him. The woman had a gift of twisting any situat
ion. “Trevelle, I’m sorry for messing with your creation. Now if we could just stop talking about Jake I’d really appreciate it.”
“Aha, so it is bothering you,” Vince said.
“No. I’m not bothered. I’m perfectly comfortable with my husband’s career. I just would rather not keep discussing it with …” My eyes jerked toward Trevelle.
“Fine. If that’s the way you want it.” Trevelle picked up her purse and keys and headed for the door.
“Whoa … hey, come on. Let’s not fly off the handle. She apologized,” Vince said, speaking up for me. For once.
“Yes, please don’t go,” I said deadpan as possible. I hoped like crazy she did the exact opposite.
“Well … if you insist,” she said, instead putting her purse down.
“Great,” Vince said. “Group hug.”
“Great.” I piled into his chest, not leaving any room for Trevelle. Her long thin arms managed to cover the circumference of us both anyway. I was pinned in the middle.
“God is good,” Trevelle mumbled near my ear.
I squinted and suffered silently. Somehow I knew I was being overlooked in the goodness distribution.
I eventually made my escape. I took a long deep breath, rolled up my sleeves and got to work. I had five bridesmaids’ bouquets to finish. Four flowergirl halos, two mother-of-the-brides corsages, and one bride to satisfy. The last thing I had time for was healing Trevelle’s wounds, but if it brought about peace, I was all for it.
Vince gave me another squeeze for good measure and to say he was proud of me. Backing down was not my strong suit. I’d read in a magazine article that to combat negative emotion you acted positively; even if it wasn’t genuine, eventually your brain would be tricked into happiness. In fact, happiness was a choice. Studies proved it time and time again.
A few hours later I waved the merry couple off as they headed out to make deliveries. The old engine sputtered before getting up to speed. I had planned to buy a new delivery van as soon as the company was up and running, with no handouts from the family account. Jake liked to point out that hobbies spent money, while businesses earned money and eventually made a profit. The time had come. I settled inside the baroque interior, feeling proud and confident. I was a business owner. Exhausted, but it felt good.
Un-Nappily in Love Page 6
