“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll come up with an idea for you that’s going to have everybody talking the night of the kickoff party.”
“Okay, then. I’m placing myself in your hands.”
The naughty thoughts his innocent statement conjured made her face heat up. Goodness, when had she become this person who read sexual innuendo into every little thing? Maybe ever since one of the sexiest men she’d ever met started treating her as if she was one of the sexiest women he’d ever met?
Brooklyn still couldn’t fully grasp that this was her freaking life right now.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how we can make the theme work for us in ways we hadn’t considered,” Reid said, jerking her out of her inappropriate musings. “You know, attract people who possibly wouldn’t have attended if we were having just a regular ball.”
She had yet to mention it to him, but Brooklyn had been mulling over something for the past couple of days that she was convinced would be a game changer.
Or, it could be a flop.
She had no idea. But she’d have never thought Reid or his family members would choose to have a cosplay gala either, so what could it hurt to share?
“I do have one idea,” she said. “I’m not sure how it would play out with the crowd you all are anticipating, but…” She shrugged.
“What is it?”
“You can have an auction. If you can convince a few people to donate some memorabilia or rare comics, and advertise that they will be auctioned off at the kickoff party, you’d pull in some serious collectors. Of course, convincing people to part with their valuable memorabilia would be a feat in and of itself.
“Wait.” Brooklyn sat up as a thought occurred to her. “They don’t have to part with their items at all. You can just have them on display, like a museum that has rare collections on loan from private collectors.”
“You think people will pay five hundred dollars just to look at rare comic books?”
“Some will,” she said without hesitation. “However, if you want to make it more accessible, you can hold it apart from the actual gala. How didn’t I think of this before? It’s perfect.” She reached over and grabbed her laptop, then pulled up her note-taking app to capture the ideas that were coming to her at lightning speed. “This is what you all should do. A few hours before the gala starts, hold a pre-gala event and charge maybe fifty dollars to attend. If you can get just a few collectors to agree to the display, you’ll pull in dozens—maybe well over a hundred—people.”
She laughed at the doubt clouding his expression. “Just wait until we get to Biloxi in a couple of weeks. You’ll see how serious real fans take this. It isn’t just a weekend hobby for some people, it’s a lifestyle. Opening your doors to those who embrace the comics and cosplay world is going to introduce the foundation to an audience you never knew existed. I promise you.”
“I forget that I have an actual reason for going to Biloxi.” He nuzzled the spot behind her ear again and whispered, “I’ve been telling myself that you invited me for the sole purpose of having your wicked way with me.”
Despite the teasing in his voice, Brooklyn’s stomach pulled tight with desire. She wasn’t one to jump into bed with a guy. She’d only been intimate with three in her twenty-six years, and, to be honest, Mikal Johnson’s five-minute fumbling act in high school shouldn’t really count.
When she asked Reid about joining her at the Comic Con in Mississippi, she hadn’t completely thought out exactly how he would view the invitation. Of course, a guy like him would think it was more than just joining her and a bunch of other comic book fanatics. Of course, he would assume an invitation to spend the night at a hotel meant that they would be there together. As in together together. Even though, up to this point, the only thing they’d shared were some pretty spectacular kisses.
Most surprising? Brooklyn was inclined to go along with his interpretation. She didn’t want to take things slow this time. She’d never been more tempted to jump into bed with someone as she was right at this moment.
The annoying voice that had been hovering on the periphery of her psyche for the past few weeks began to nag at her again, but Brooklyn silenced it.
For once she’d landed the cute, hot guy. And she wanted to enjoy every minute of it.
Chapter Eight
“Since when do you not want to hang out?” Anthony asked as he turned onto Esplanade Avenue. “And especially on your birthday. Come on, man. Today is the day you join the Grown and Sexy Club.”
“If I ever hear you refer to me as sexy again I’m punching you in the throat,” Reid said.
Anthony laughed so hard he swerved into the next lane. Probably because he was flipping Reid off at the same time.
“Pull that sour stick out your ass, man! It’s your 30th birthday,” his friend unnecessarily pointed out. “We’ll grab some beers and wings at The Hard Court and watch a game. It’s better than sitting around your apartment.”
Reid nodded and shrugged. At this point, he was just grateful Anthony hadn’t brought up his meeting with Jonathan, which still hadn’t taken place.
“You’re right,” he answered. “This’ll be cool.”
Of course, it wasn’t cool. Not really. Cool would have been sitting at his apartment with Brooklyn sitting right next to him, or better yet, on him. His lap had become accustomed to bearing her weight. Spending his birthday with her would have been preferable to anything else Reid could think up.
And they didn’t have to spend it in his apartment either. They could be at a coffee shop, or a movie, or a funeral home for all he cared. As long as he was with her, that’s all that mattered. She made everything better, brighter. He could use that ray of sunshine she brought to his life, especially on a day like today.
Reaching this milestone should have filled him with excitement, but for Reid it had been the exact opposite. For months, his thirtieth birthday had been looming over him like a dark, menacing cloud, saturated with questions about what he’d done with his thirty years on this planet, and what lay ahead for the next thirty. He’d tried like hell to push those questions aside and just enjoy his birthday, but it hadn’t been easy.
As usual, his family helped. He’d gotten calls from all his siblings and cousins today. Athens had FaceTimed him, and Lily had sent a silly picture of herself with a cartoon dog tongue on Snapchat. Willow arrived around noon with a homemade birthday cake and his Aunt Margo sent a cast iron pot filled with her spicy jambalaya, Reid’s favorite dish. He could always count on his family to be there for him.
But when he thought about the person he most wanted here, one image filled his mind. Actually, it was a cascade of images, because he could never decide which color he liked in her hair the best.
“Purple.”
“What?” Anthony asked.
“Huh? Nothing,” Reid said. Shit.
More irritated at being pulled out of his daydream than of being caught fantasizing, he turned and stared out at the homes lining Esplanade. His mind eventually returned to the only place it seemed to want to dwell lately. With Brooklyn.
The past week had been unlike any Reid had ever experienced while with another woman who wasn’t a relative. If someone had told him just a month ago that he would look forward to sitting in the colorful upper room at a local bookstore, reading comics while the woman he dreamed about on a nightly basis drew a cartoon version of his mother, he would have offered to find them help for their drinking problem. Instead, he was the one who found himself intoxicated.
He was drunk on Brooklyn LeBlanc and this potent attraction that grew with every waking hour. It didn’t even bother him that sex didn’t seem to be anywhere on the horizon.
Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. He thought about sex with her no less than eight hundred times a day. But, unlike with women in his past, he had no desire to rush it. Something about this slow burn between them felt right. Natural. Rushing her into his bed would change the dynamic between them, and f
or now, Reid was just fine with how things were going.
He’d wanted her here with him right now. When she’d told him she had a prior commitment—some family thing—it had made the thought of facing his thirtieth birthday even more depressing. He hadn’t been looking forward to today, but if he’d had Brooklyn by his side at least it would have been easier to bear. Instead of heading to the Hard Court for wings and a game he wasn’t interested in watching, he wanted to be under his and Brooklyn’s tree in City Park, trying to sneak kisses from her, or huddled in the nice, comfortable chair at Tubby and Coo’s, still trying to sneak kisses from her. More than anything, Reid wanted to sneak a kiss from her.
Well, maybe not more than anything.
All in due time.
The wait might kill him, but it would be worth it.
Anthony drove around to the parking lot behind The Hard Court, but it was so packed he had to drive back out and search for parking on the street.
“Damn, is LSU playing Alabama this weekend?” Reid asked as they finally pulled into a spot two blocks down from the club.
The high-end sports bar tended to draw a crowd no matter what, simply by virtue of it being one of the city’s hottest night spots. But this was overkill even for a Saturday night.
“It’s a good thing you have access to that VIP area upstairs,” Anthony said as he opened his door. He looked back over his shoulder. “You know that’s the only reason I brought you here, right? I didn’t want to fight over a table.”
Laughing, Reid flipped him off as he got out of the car, then he joined up with Anthony on the sidewalk. He cursed himself for not insisting on taking his own car tonight so he could leave early. If he couldn’t hang out with Brooklyn, he’d rather sit at home and sulk instead of dealing with people.
“Hey, you don’t plan on staying out here all night, do you?” Reid asked.
“Would you stop acting like you’re sixty years old? What in the hell has gotten into you? I’m the one who’s usually trying to cut out early so that I can head home to Ciara.” Anthony stopped walking. “Wait a minute. Do you have somebody waiting for you at home?”
“Not your business,” Reid said.
“Oh, no. No, no, no. You gotta tell me what’s up.”
Reid ignored him as he continued along the sidewalk. But then he, too, stopped short when he came upon a black luxury sedan.
“Is this…?” he started, but then he shook his head. It couldn’t be Harrison’s car. Even though he and Jonathan were law partners, his brother had never been one for hanging out at bars, even sophisticated sports bars like the one Jonathan owned.
When they arrived at the entrance, Reid reached for the handle to the smoke-gray glass door, but Anthony knocked his hand out of the way and stepped in front of him.
“You think they’re gonna run out of hot wings?” Reid drawled.
“Just shut up and come on,” Anthony said. Reid followed him into the sports bar and nearly had a heart attack.
“Surprise!”
“What the f—” He slapped a hand to his chest and reminded himself that thirty was too young to have a heart attack. He hoped. “What’s going on here?” Reid asked.
His entire family stood before him, including his dad, his three cousins and their wives, and his siblings with their significant others. Even his aunt Margot and her husband, Gerald, had made it out here. The familiar faces of many of his co-workers from Holmes Construction dotted the crowd, as well as some high school friends he hadn’t seen in ages.
“Happy birthday,” Indina said, enveloping him in a hug. Then she poked him in the chest. “Now your nosy ass knows the original reason for the meeting we were having weeks ago.”
Reid frowned, then remembered the text Indina had mistakenly sent to him.
“This was the party you were talking about? It wasn’t about Mom’s foundation?”
His sister shook her head.
“So why didn’t you say anything?”
She rolled her eyes before slapping his shoulder and returning to Griffin, who cradled his arms around her middle and nestled his chin against her shoulder.
“Happy birthday,” Ezra said, catching Reid by the neck and bringing him in for a one armed hug. “Hope you don’t mind the surprise. I needed to make up for the time I had to get my appendix removed and messed up your eighth birthday,” he said. “Maybe now you can finally stop it with the guilt trip.”
He punched Ezra on the shoulder. “You’re full of shit. You know I’d forgotten all about that.” Reid turned to Harrison. “I can’t believe they got you out of the house and into a club?”
His eldest brother shrugged. “This place ain’t half bad. I may have to come here more often.”
“Yeah, right.” Willow snorted. She bumped Harrison out of the way and wrapped her arms around Reid’s waist. “Happy birthday again, baby. You enjoyed the cake?”
“You know I did,” Reid said. He patted his stomach. “Probably too much.”
Reid hugged his dad, and the rest of his family members, before being dragged to a table that had been set up at the far free-throw line on The Hard Court’s dance floor, which was made to resemble a basketball court. The club’s basketball motif was a nod to Jonathan’s short career in the NBA. He’d hired Indina to bring his vision to life, and she’d done so in the most magnificent way possible.
Reid couldn’t deny his sister’s imagination and skill was off the charts. He couldn’t wait to see what she did with Dynamo Diane.
That is, if he could ever convince Brooklyn to allow him to share the drawing. Whenever he brought it up, she replied with some excuse about it not being ready. He didn’t understand her hesitancy. If he had her kind of talent, he would spend most of his day tossing copies of his drawings from rooftops.
Reid was seated at the table of honor and treated like a king. Forever taking care of him, Willow directed him to stay seated while she fixed him something to eat from the huge buffet that had been set up along the back wall. She returned with a plate crowded with all his favorite foods, including more of his aunt Margo’s jambalaya and his cousin Eli’s sweet and spicy party meatballs.
As he looked around, Reid slowly came to realize that everyone here was in some way connected to him. Jonathan had closed the entire club down. On a Saturday night. In the middle of college football season and the MLB post-season. All for his birthday.
Unbelievable.
How many people had family and friends who would go to this kind of trouble to celebrate their birthday? Could there be a luckier son of a bitch on the face of the earth?
As if in answer to his question, Reid looked up and spotted Brooklyn walking toward him. It was in that moment that he felt his luckiest. She’d been the only thing missing, and here she was, like a dream he’d conjured.
But before she reached his table, Reid heard a sultry voice to the left of him say, “Well, happy birthday. It’s been a long time.”
He turned to find a woman in a dress so tight it looked seconds away from busting at the seams. He remembered her face, but the name escaped him.
“Uh, hey,” Reid said. “Thanks.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s Khyra,” she said. “Don’t act as if you don’t know me.”
Except he didn’t know her. The things he remembered about her could fit in a shot glass.
Just then, Donte came in from the opposite side, hooking his arm around Reid’s neck and whispering near his ear, “Your brother asked some of us guys to invite friends we thought you’d want here to help you celebrate. You can thank me later.”
Great.
Khyra, who Reid now remembered meeting at last year’s Essence Festival, leaned over and hugged him, her breasts nearly spilling out of the neckline of her low-cut dress. In the past, Reid would have relished the feel of those cushiony pillows pushing up against him. But right now all he could think of was creating some distance.
He looked over toward where he’d spotted Brooklyn. She’d halted her step
s. She just stood there staring at him, her expression unreadable.
A noxious ball of unease formed in the pit of Reid’s stomach.
He couldn’t just push this Khyra person away. He’d been on the receiving end of enthusiastic hugs for a solid twenty minutes. To suddenly rebuff her birthday wishes wouldn’t just be rude, it would raise eyebrows from everyone around him.
Yet, the absolute last thing Reid wanted right now was to be reminded of the person he’d been just a few weeks ago. And that’s exactly what Khyra represented.
Before Brooklyn, he would have grabbed a night like tonight by the balls and lived it up, going from the arms of one woman to another. At the end of the night, he would no doubt go home with at least one of them. Because it was his birthday, he would possibly go home with two.
Instead, all he wanted to do was count down the hours until he could leave. It was an indication of how far removed he’d become from that guy he used to be. And he didn’t miss his old lifestyle at all.
He had Brooklyn to thank for that. She made all the difference.
He wanted to go to her, but every time he so much as tried to leave his place of honor, another person came to the table to wish him happy birthday.
Over the course of the next half hour, two more women he’d gotten to know in the biblical sense emerged from the ever-growing crowd. Reid fought the urge to throttle Donte. It was unfair. He knew his buddy was just trying to be a good friend, and it’s not as if any of the guys at Holmes Construction knew how close he and Brooklyn had grown over these past few weeks. She’d insisted they remain professional while at work—a notion Reid supported, seeing as Alex was likely to kick his ass once he learned that Reid had been feeling up the woman Alex had told him to think about as a kid sister.
So, instead of pummeling Donte for putting him in this awkward position, Reid continued to accept the well-meaning birthday greetings. There was at least one bright spot: Vivian’s granddaughter hadn’t been invited.
Awaken Me Page 16
