Be My Bride: BWWM Romance (Brother From Money Book 19)

by Shanade White

  “It looks like a totally expensive car that I am going to be afraid to drive in case I total it in a week.”

  “Are you that bad of a driver?”

  “I am a driver who gets distracted by the least little thing.” She told him, running a hand over the shiny exterior and noticing the plush leather seats.

  “It’s fully insured so you don’t have to worry about it.” He said dryly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Like thank you?”

  “Bright girl,” he drawled in amusement. “I have a late meeting at the office and you said you wanted to visit your mother so you don’t have to wait on me.”

  “You are a wonderful man, do you know that?” she said to him huskily, her hand still on the car.

  “I know. I was hoping you would come to realize it.” He told her lightly before hanging up.

  Kimone stood outside and with a sudden decision she opened the door and stepped inside. It was a far cry from the old junk she had owned several years ago when she had just left college. The seat was surprisingly warm and molded itself to her butt with comfort. She almost went for a spin but realized that she had left the store filled with people and Samantha was still learning the ropes.

  They were closing the store after six when Samantha noticed the car. The girl’s eyes rounded in surprise and her hands went to her mouth. “You got a car?” she moved towards it slowly and reached out to touch it tentatively.

  “A present from my husband,” Kimone punched the button on the keypad to unlock the car. It was too cold for topless so she left the roof on.

  “You are one lucky lady,” Samantha said shaking her head.

  “I think I am,” Kimone said slowly. “Which direction?”

  “I am going the opposite way and I am meeting some friends’ downtown.”

  “See you tomorrow,” Kimone told her with a wave and put the car into drive. It purred throatily and as soon as she slid away from the curb she heard the power in the engine.

  *****

  Her mother was at home with a friend from the neighborhood having hot chocolate and slices of sweet potato pie. “Darling how nice to see you!” she stood up and hugged her daughter tightly. They had seen each other briefly the second week after the wedding and her mother had insisted that marriages need time to grow so she should spend some time with her husband. She greeted the woman who was sitting there enjoying the pie. Kimone knew she was a widow who lived by herself down the street and her mother always took time out to invite her over so that she did not feel alone.

  Hi Mrs. Ridley how have you been doing?” she reached and touched the woman’s hand briefly.

  “Not too bad my dear, heard you landed yourself an honest to goodness rich man,” the woman said candidly, a smile crinkling her weathered face.

  “What a way to put it,” Kimone said with a laugh, not in the least bit offended.

  She showed her mother the car Peter had bought her as soon as Mrs. Ridley had left. “I hope you realize what a good man you have honey,” Kimberley said seriously as she ran her hands over the exterior, admiring the shine and the newness of it.

  “I think I do,” she told her mother slowly. “How about going for a spin?” she asked with an impish smile.

  They went a few blocks away and when they returned, her mother packed up a plate with lasagna and a whole pie dish with sweet potato pie.

  “Tell that handsome husband of yours that I want both of you over here for Sunday dinner.” Kimberley said firmly as she watched her daughter strap up. “And honey you need to talk to Dawn, I think something is wrong.”

  Chapter 8

  Kimone put down the phone with a slight frown. She had been trying to get Dawn to have lunch or afternoon snack with her for several days without success. It was either she was busy on the road or she had some meetings. She had not seen her best friend for three weeks now and she was very worried, it was not like Dawn. Her mind was on what her mother had told her about something being wrong and she was starting to believe that. She had driven around to her home twice but her car was not there. She had even contemplated calling Gregory but she had remembered what she had said to her the time when they were in the store together: that she was not happy.

  She was still at home because had been trying to sort out her side of the huge closet that looked more like a suite than an actual closet and although he had told her that Annabelle; the lady who did the cleaning and cooking sometimes would do it, Kimone had not thought it right to heap on more on the lady. “I feel funny having her do things for me,” Kimone had protested when Peter had told her to leave them to Annabelle.

  “I pay her very well to do these things Kimone and I assure you she does not mind in the least.” Peter told her indulgently.

  But she had drawn the line at having her sort her clothes. So she had decided to go in late and have Samantha open up. Peter had left for an early meeting and told her he would see her later.

  Kimone stared at the large amount of clothes still strewn on the bed, her teeth bothering her bottom lip. He had bought her some more clothes and more shoes than she would ever wear in this lifetime and she had a feeling that she would have to rely on Annabelle’s help after all.

  She was putting up a pale pink gown that shimmered in the pale light of the sun coming through the window when the middle aged black woman came into the room.

  “Miss Kimone, I told you I would do that,” she said reproachfully, taking up several outfits in her plump capable hands and putting them away. Kimone had told her to dispense with the ‘Miss’ and just call her Kimone but the woman had refused. So it was ‘Mr. Peter and Miss Kimone’.

  “You are a life saver Annabelle,” she told the woman in relief. “As you have discovered, I am not the tidiest person in the world and I hate doing any kind of house work.” She admitted ruefully; gratefully abandoning the dresses she had been hanging up.

  “Just leave it to me Miss Kimone,” the woman beamed at her. “I take pleasure in what I do.”

  Kimone smiled at her and patted her arm before hurrying in off into the bathroom to take a quick shower and get dressed to go to the store.

  The weather was surprisingly mild as March was coming to an end and Kimone reached for a white linen pants and a burgundy shirt and with a sudden decision, she decided to leave her hair down, the curls rioting past her shoulders and framing her exquisite face. She put on an ankle length boot and told Annabelle bye before heading out to the car.

  *****

  It was almost closing time when the bell at the door tinkled and to her surprise she saw that it was Dawn. Samantha had left a little earlier and she had started putting some new stocks on the shelves and in the cupboards she recently had made.

  “Finally!” she said in relief, rising from the bench to greet her friend with a hug; her eyes searching the girl’s face for some signs of worry but seeing none. “I thought you had dropped off the face of the earth.” She had taken off her boots and was in her stocking feet.

  “Not yet,” Dawn said lightly returning her hug and taking off her lightweight jacket. “I was just busy for the past few weeks.”

  “Is everything okay?” Kimone asked anxiously. She had pulled up one of the little chairs and was sitting in front of her friend.

  “As okay as it will ever be,” Dawn said with a shrug, avoiding her friend’s eyes. She had avoided seeing Kimone because of the way she had been feeling, especially after the wedding. When her friend had called her and told her about the new car she had felt the anguish and envy enveloping her again. She was not usually an envious person because she happened to earn a decent living and drove a fairly new car; but it was the fact that all of it had come so easily to Kimone and she did not seem to really appreciate it; even though her heart told her that Kimone was not like that; she still could not let go of how much the girl had and she had nothing.

  “Will you please talk to me?” Kimone demanded, this time determined not to let her friend leave without
finding out what was going with her. “How are things with Gregory?”

  “I broke it off and I broke his heart, is that what you want to hear?” Dawn stood up in agitation, knocking over the chair she had been sitting on.

  Kimone stood up instantly, her heart twisting at the desperately sad expression on her friend’s face. “Honey, I am so sorry! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you when?” Dawn rounded on her, her hands clenched at her sides and her eyes flashing. “When you were on your honeymoon? Or when you were busy being pampered by your rich husband?”

  Kimone stepped back as if the vicious words had literally struck her. Taking a deep breath she answered: “You can always call me no matter what I am doing or where I am. I thought you knew that Dawn.”

  “You don’t get it do you?” There were tears in her dark brown eyes and Kimone was startled. Dawn had always been tough apart from when she had experienced that heartbreak some time ago. “You live a charmed life. A husband who would do anything for you; I am sure that when he is making love to you; you don’t feel like you would rather be anywhere else, so how could you possibly understand what I am going through?”

  The silence inside the store was deafening as they stared at each other. Kimone felt as if inside had shattered and for the first time in their friendship over the years she did not know what to say to her friend.

  “You are right,” she responded finally, her body trembling slightly. “I have never had relationship issues before and I don’t agree with you about having a charmed life. I am sure you will find someone who will love you the way you deserve if Gregory is not the one.”

  “What kind of issues do you really have Kimone?” Dawn’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Deciding which designer outfit to wear each day? Or which expensive restaurant to go to?”

  Kimone felt every word digging into her flesh like a thorn and she could not believe that she was been attacked by her best friend. Suddenly, she felt as if her world was crashing down around her. She had never had to deal with adversity and when she had; she had always found ways to work it out but now she did not have a clue what to do.

  Before she could answer the doorbell tinkled and they both turned around startled to find that Peter was coming in. “I was calling your phone but you did not pick up.” He greeted her. “Oh hi Dawn, how have you been?”

  “I am okay Peter but I have to run so take care.” She made a hasty retreat before Kimone could stop her. Kimone watched her leave without saying a word to stop her.

  “What’s the matter?” Peter asked her as soon as the door closed behind the other girl. He had felt the tension as soon as he came into the store and he had a feeling that there had been an argument he had interrupted.

  “Dawn is a little upset because she broke up with Gregory,” she told him striving for a casual tone. “What brings you by?” She asked in a forced bright tone.

  He stared at her for a brief moment as if deciding whether or not to believe her then he answered. “We have that dinner party with the investors tonight at eight remember?” He was dressed in an expensive charcoal jacket suit and his hair was as usual, falling down his forehead.

  “Oh Lord!” Kimone clapped a hand to her forehead. “That’s tonight?” The last thing she wanted to do tonight was dress up and go socialize with complete strangers. She wanted to go somewhere and cry herself to sleep and probably drink some cheap wine but cheap wine would not be available in the house she now lived in. For the first time since she had moved, she found herself missing her tiny apartment.

  “I asked Amy to call you and remind you,” Peter was eyeing her closely.

  “She did earlier today but it slipped my mind. Do I really have to go?”

  “That’s the only thing I asked you for Kimone.” His voice had gone cool and with a moment of despair she realized that today was the day for upsetting people.

  “Okay fine,” she told him impatiently. “I’ll go home and get dolled up like a freaking mannequin and smile and pretend that I am having a good time.” She said ungraciously, wanting to lash out at someone; anyone.

  “Thank you.” He told her formally and without another word he left the store.

  Kimone locked the door as soon as he left; burying her face into her hands; her body shaking in despair. How had things gotten so bad? After being so good? She reached for her phone and called the one person she was sure would not be upset with her no matter what.

  “Mom, I think I messed up.” She said as soon as her mother answered the phone.

  “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”

  Kimone told her of the argument she'd had with Dawn and what she said and how she made Peter angry with her because she had expressed how reluctant she was about going to the dinner tonight.

  “Hon, I told you that Dawn was going through something and you have to put yourself in her shoes. She is seeing you succeed where she has failed: twice. And to see things going so well for you; it’s not easy on her.”

  “But if it was the other way around I would be so happy for her!” Kimone cried, not understanding in the least.

  “You were always able to shake off anything that did not sit right with you and that’s what makes you unique. It also makes you self absorbed honey not in a bad way but you usually do not see what is going on with another person; you kind of live in your own little world.”

  Hearing her mother say the same thing Dawn had told her, albeit more gently, had Kimone thinking. Did she disregard other people’s feelings?

  “I wasn’t aware I was so selfish,” she said a little frostily.

  “You are definitely not selfish,” Kimberley said softly. “Never think that. Don’t take it personal honey, it’s not about you. Just give Dawn a day or two to cool off before approaching her and please listen to her without saying anything; the girl is obviously hurting and feeling alone. As for that husband of yours; he is right; he asks for so little and baby girl he loves you very much.”

  “He does not-“ she started to say and then she stopped; remembering that no one knew about the terms of the relationship except her and Peter.

  “He couldn’t take his eyes off you all through the ceremony,” she continued as if she had not heard anything she said. “It brought back memories of when your father used to look at me as if I was the only one around. You have the real thing honey, don’t take it for granted.”

  *****

  Kimone applied her make-up carefully; her expression thoughtful. All the way home she had been thinking about what her mother had said; Peter loved her? She knew he was attracted to her; immensely. But she was as well or was it more than that. She thought back to all the times he had made love to her which was every night and in the mornings. How he held her close to him when they were finished as if he did not want to let her go. She also remember him staring at her and when she looked at him he would glance away.

  The signs had all been there for her to see and she had been so involved in her precious store that she had not realized it.

  Her dress was a black and white diagonal stripes with uneven hem. It was stunning in its simplicity and molded her entire body like a second skin. She had opted not to wear any underwear because there was no room for it. Peter had gotten ready before her as usual in a pin striped dark blue suit that made him looked even more handsome, if that was possible. She had started looking at him differently ever since she came home an hour ago with barely enough time to get ready. He had been very polite but distant and Kimone had not bothered to say anything to him.

  “You look beautiful,” his soft voice said behind her. “I am going to be the envy of every man at the dinner.” He came further inside the room and opened a small red velvet box revealing a luminescent pearl necklace that had a slight tinge of pink. Kimone stared at it; her breath caught at the sheer beauty of the piece of jewelry that she was sure would keep someone in food and clothing for a number of years. She forced herself not to think about the monetary value but at the thought b
ehind it. “I know you don’t like this sort of thing but I am asking you to humor me for once.” He took the necklace from the box and without a word she turned around, lifting the heavy curls from her neck so that he could pin the clasp. She had wrapped her hair to the side but with the necklace he had just given her she realized that she would have to change the style to put her hair up in a chignon.

  “It’s beautiful,” she told him softly, resting her hands against his chest. “And I am going to be the envy of every woman there.”

  *****

  Kimone actually enjoyed herself. The dinner was held at the newly renovated Italian restaurant downtown and she was surprised to find out that Peter’s company had shares in it. There were about two hundred people at the dinner party and Kimone realized she had met some of them at the wedding. Peter pointed out some people he was in transaction with and told her about the community center he wanted to build to provide some sort of recreation for the Asian community. With a sense of admiration and pride she discovered that her husband was not only a smart business man but one who had a big heart.

  “That’s a really lovely necklace you are wearing my dear,” a woman wearing a bright emerald gown with diamonds blazing at her throat and ears said to her. Peter was in discussion with an elderly gentleman sitting on his left whom she understood was the owner of a chain of hotels. The woman was a stunning blonde and had come with a middle aged man at another table.

  “Thank you,” Kimone said politely, one hand going unconsciously to the iridescent pearl around her neck. She had changed her hairstyle and pinned the heavy curls on top of her head with several tendrils falling to her cheeks and the back of her neck.

  “A present from your husband?” she persisted.

  “Yes.”

  “I must seem like a regular nosey parker don’t I?” she asked with a tinkling laugh. “My name is Sandra Graham, and I am married to that old geezer at the other table.” She indicated the man who was having a heavy discussion with another man at his table.