Pearson had been a daddy’s girl from the moment she took her first breath. Her father, Alston Chambers was smitten with Pearson at first sight and happily cared for her every need the way a nurturing mother would. He had to, because for Candice, that mothering instinct that kicked in after a woman gave birth, never quite fell into place.
Christmas Eve, when Pearson was twelve, Alston went shopping, filling his car with all the dolls and gifts a pre-teen could ever want, but he never made it home. A massive stroke caused him to steer the car off the road, nearly splitting it in two. The impact killed him instantly.
On Christmas, instead of opening gifts, Pearson and Candice spent the day mourning: Pearson in her room, and her mother camped out in a darkened den while she drank several bottles of scotch. The gifts under the tree remained unopened.
New Year’s Eve was spent sending her father off in the most opulent way imaginable. From that day, Pearson’s life had never been the same.
Pearson shook those awful memories away and stood so abruptly she knocked her chair over. The pain of her father’s loss rushed her as if it had just happened. She doubled over and wept, crying for him and all the other losses that his death generated.
Pearson reached for the wine cooler; she couldn’t deal with this agony in her own strength. Deciding that wine wouldn’t cut it, she dug beyond the files in her bottom drawer and pulled out a fifth of vodka. She drank straight from the bottle, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and sat on the floor.
After a few more sips, Pearson put the liquor back in its place. She still had a few hours to put in even though it was the Saturday before Christmas.
Pearson got back to work, but not before grabbing a bottle of red wine, a glass, and an aerator. She uncorked the bottle and filled her glass to the rim, letting the crimson liquid pass through the aerator first. Bringing the glass to her mouth with trembling hands, Pearson took a long sip. She had to catch her breath when she finished.
After tapping out a few emails to her assistant and warning her not to act on them until Monday, she shut down her PC. Just because she was a workaholic who drowned her revulsion for the holidays in long, vigorous hours and expensive spirits, that didn’t mean her employees had to.
Saving the rest of her work and errands for another day, Pearson decided to start preparing for the party, starting with a long soak in their colossal Jacuzzi spa. She’d hoped that the soothing rhythm from the jets and the velvety bubbles would wash away some of the feelings of grief and that threatened to consume her.
The sound of Niles’ rich deep voice bellowed though the master bedroom and into the bath. Pearson’s eyes fluttered open and she realized she’d fallen asleep in the tub. Niles called her name again and this time it sounded less distant. She sat up in the water and took a moment to clear her disorientation.
“I’m in here!” She heard Niles’ footsteps growing closer.
He appeared in the door and grinned. Pearson smiled back as a sliver of heat swirled in her core, brought on by the sexiness her husband exuded by simply standing there. His handsome teeth, resembling ivory, were lined up like tall soldiers. She could tell that lustful considerations were brewing behind the smoldering look he gave her. As he stood taking her in, he never said a word.
“Wanna join me?” Pearson curled her finger, inviting him in.
Niles sauntered over, crouched at the edge of the tub and pushed his tongue into Pearson’s mouth. She put wet arms around him, pulling him in and soaking his clothes.
When they managed to pull themselves apart, Niles answered breathlessly, “I wish I could.” He looked at his watch. “But that would make us very late.”
Pearson scrunched her brows. “What time is it?”
“A little after five.”
Pearson jumped up, splashing water all over Niles.
“Whoa!” he said, stepping back.
“Oh my goodness!” she said, grabbing her cloth and soap. More than two hours had passed. Her fingers had shriveled like raisins and she shook her head. Quickly, she washed in the cool water, toweled off, and ran to the adjacent room, which she had turned into a huge walk-in closet. She had wanted to run out to her favorite boutique and find a cute shirt to wear, but it was too late for that. She threw on a mocha-colored knit dress that stopped just before her knees and then double wrapped a long silk, leopard print scarf around her neck.
By the time she emerged from her dressing room, Niles was just making it out of the shower. Nadalia’s Holiday Pot Luck dinner was starting in less than an hour and Pearson hadn’t cooked a thing.
“What are we bringing?” Niles asked as he buttoned his crisp yellow shirt.
“I was just thinking about that.”
Niles dropped his hands to his side, looking puzzled. “I thought you were making that delicious pasta with the shrimp scampi sauce.”
“Yeah…well…a thing happened and now that dish is not going to happen.” As she slipped a sizable pair of pearls into her ears, she said. “I’ll call DiMaggio’s and ask for a pan of pasta.”
Niles raised his brows like he didn’t think that was a good idea.
“I know it’s out of the way, but it’s my only option right now.”
“What happened to…you know what? Never mind.”
Pearson was glad that Niles thought better of asking her why she hadn’t made the dish. She didn’t want to answer him anyway.
“I’ll grab a bottle of wine out of our reserve. That will be one less stop we’ll have to make. We shouldn’t be too late.”
Pearson walked over to Niles as he adjusted his cuff links and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. “I appreciate you.” She meant it. Besides her father, Niles had been the only one who genuinely showed her love, satisfying some of the voids that her mother left when she shipped her off to boarding school.
After her father’s death, Candice treated Pearson more like a bothersome roommate than a daughter. She still craved Candice’s devotion, but soon learned how to fill her empty places with vices that made her longings fade away.
“How about you show me how much when we get back from Sage and Nadalia’s tonight,” he said, slipping his arm around the small of her back.
“I guess I could do that.” She pulled away. “Now come on.”
As Pearson stepped into her shoes, she felt Niles looking at her. When she turned toward him, she drew in a deep breath. He wore a pensive look and his lips were twisted.
“What?”
“Could you please take it easy tonight?”
Pearson cut her eyes, grabbed her purse and walked out the room. Just like that, he had caused the edge that she’d managed to wash down the drain to return and cling to her like slime. If she got drunk tonight, it would be his fault for annoying her.
Chapter 13
Nadalia
Nadalia ordered the lead maid to finish setting the table before her guests arrived.
She pushed the back onto the post of her cultured pearl earring and snapped at the maid. “Just give me the damn napkins!” she yelled, snatching them from her grasp. “I don’t understand what’s so hard. Just fold them like this and stuff it inside the ring.” Nadalia demonstrated, and then tossed the napkin on the table.
“How’s it going in here, babe?” Sage stepped in looking rather dapper as he fastened his cuff links. His red button down shirt was fitting for the holiday festivities.
“Look at you, handsome.” Nadalia wiped the shoulders of his shirt and ran her hand down his chest. “All is well. I just need to light a damn fire under these girl’s behinds. They’re moving slower and slower these days. The last crew we hired was so much better.” Nadalia cast her eyes upward as if she just remembered something that irritated her. “Give me a minute, babe,” she said to Sage and turned back toward the kitchen. “Ladies! Where are the favors I told you to place on the console in the foyer?”
“I’ll get them right away, ma’am,” one of the hired hands said and scurried past Nadalia with her
head down.
“And make sure the girls are all dressed and ready to work. My guests will begin arriving any minute.” Nadalia looked around. “I need someone at the door now to greet people!”
“Yes. Ma’am,” one of them said.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Nadalia yelled at a women passing by. “I said put the favors out.”
“But, ma’am. You asked me to check on the girls to make sure they were ready.”
Nadalia parked her hands on her hips and glared. “Do what I ask in the order that I ask.”
“Take it easy on those ladies,” Sage said.
“I pay them very good money. The least I could ask for is efficient work.”
Nadalia locked eyes with Sage and smiled. He seemed relaxed for the first time in weeks and she applauded herself for deciding to have this party, even though she thought of it at the last minute. She called it their Holiday Pot Luck dinner and determined that if things went well tonight, she was going to make it a permanent part of her holidays. She knew that getting together with his friends and their wives would lift his spirits. Maybe she could even get him to make love to her after their guests were gone. She’d been longing for his touch for far too long and with their sexual appetites, they had never gone weeks without having sex. She looked forward to the end of football season so she could have her husband back.
“Come with me.” Nadalia grabbed Sage’s hand and led him through the foyer. They passed the sitting room and headed into the kitchen where rows of chafing dishes lined the counters, all complements of a renowned local chef.
Nadalia paused, closed her eyes and inhaled, taking in the symphony of delectable aromas. “Smells divine, doesn’t it?” She led Sage to the counter like a little boy being dragged by his mother. “There’s lobster bisque, blackened prawns over arugula, shrimp scampi, made the Italian way, not the bootleg Red Lobster way, steamed mussels...mmm.” Nadalia leaned over the dish she held open and relished the fragrant delicacies.
“Nice spread!”
“You mean mine or the food?” she said, poking her protruding bottom at him. Before he could respond, Nadalia burst out laughing. Sage joined her.
“Actually both. Let me get a good look at you.” Sage spun her around admiring the red and ivory knit dress traveling around her hourglass figure. “Mmmm. You look as delicious as the feast you’ve laid out.”
Nadalia giggled, loving the girly way she felt after his compliment.
“I have a question. I thought pot luck meant that you actually cooked the food yourself.”
“Our guests are bringing food they cooked themselves. That’s good enough.” Nadalia laughed and the bell rang. “How do I look?” she said spinning around.
“Like I said.” Sage smiled. “Delicious.”
Nadalia winked, turned on her platform pumps and headed for the door. “Girls! Guests are arriving! I need you and one of the other girls at the door,” she said pointing at one of the women. “The favors had better be in the foyer. Everyone else get in to place,” she said, clapping her hands as she snapped out orders.
One of them met Nadalia at the door, balancing a tray of champagne flutes filled with eggnog cocktails, and cinnamon sticks. Nadalia checked her reflection in the foyer’s mirror, puckering her bright red lips and moving her head from side to side to check her hair. Her jet black tresses cascaded down the sides of her face from a centered part ending just past her shoulders. Satisfied, Nadalia assessed her dress once again, took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob.
“Merry Christmas!” Nadalia welcomed Vonita and Mike with air kisses and stepped aside. She took Vonita’s dish and handed it to one of the girls who were perfectly lined straight like soldiers along the foyer. A young plump girl with a pretty face stepped up and took the Howards’ coats while another handed them glasses of eggnog.
The entire wait staff was dressed in stark white shirts, black knee-length skirts and red bow ties. Based on Nadalia’s orders, each wore their hair in a tight bun at the base of their neck. Details were extremely important. Nadalia noticed Vonnie raise a quick approving brow at Mike. They were obviously impressed.
“Nadalia, your decorations are beautiful!”
“I hired a designer to decorate for me. Who has time for that these days?”
“Hey! My main man.”
Nadalia turned around at the sound of Sage’s voice.
“Vonnie.” Sage greeted her with a peck on her cheek. “Looking lovely as always.”
“Not too bad yourself, Sage,” Vonnie teased.
Sage gave Mike a firm shake and hug before taking his flute of eggnog and replacing it with a crystal snifter of Louis XIII.
“That’s a girl’s drink,” Sage whispered loud enough for the women to hear.
Mike gladly took the glass, took a sip, popped his lips and said, “Ahhhh! Now it’s a party!” The men cracked up while the women twisted their lips, shook their heads, and walked off.
“Oh, yeah, Nadalia.”
Nadalia turned back. “Yes, Mike.”
“You said this was a pot luck dinner, right?”
“Yes. Why?” Both she and Vonnie looked confused.
“So who’s bringing the pot? Get it?”
The women snickered and walked off talking about Vonnie’s great-smelling Paella, leaving Mike to laugh at his joke.
“Be sure to take care of the arriving guests and send them to the living room,” Nadalia yelled back at the maid manning the door. She then led Mike and Vonnie down the few steps into the sunken room where art adorned the walls, and antique furnishings resided. Trays of canapés were placed around the room and a tall, slim member of the wait staff stood in her polished penguin uniform.
“So,” Nadalia sat down next to Vonnie and turned to face her. “I decided to have this get together after our conversation. I thought about how much Sage loves hanging with his buddies and I thought it would be nice for all of us to relax and have some fun. I think Sage really needed it.”
“Great idea.” Vonnie looked around the living room. “I love the artwork. I minored in art during undergrad.”
“Nice—”
The bell rang again and seconds later, Ryan and Anderson appeared in the entrance of the living room. Ryan wore a gold wrap dress and nude shoes with her hair pulled back in a chignon. Anderson outshined her completely in his simple black but perfectly tailored suit and emerald green shirt. His polished appearance made Ryan fade into his shadow.
“What’s up pretty-boy?” Mike teased greeting him with a slap on the back.
“It’s all good,” Anderson replied to the men. “Ladies,” he continued with a nod before giving each wife a kiss on the cheek.
Ryan waved and sat near Vonnie. Anderson fell right into the men’s conversation, each boasting about their latest material conquests, and opinions about who were the best and worst on and off the field and court.
Within the next half hour all the guests had arrived. Eventually eggnog cocktails gave way to glasses of vintage wines. The men had already downed nearly two bottles of Louis XIII. Sage offered them each a single shot of an expensive prized 40 year old single malt whiskey.
Anderson insisted he’d tasted one better while filming overseas last year and promised to let them try some from his collection the next time he and Ryan hosted a gathering. Ryan sat more quietly that usual, mustering up the occasional smile, chuckle or outright laugh at Mike’s antics.
Nadalia didn’t miss the many times Anderson’s eyes clung to her body as she moved about. It almost seemed as if he couldn’t help himself. She wondered if Ryan noticed too, but she wouldn’t dare look at her while Anderson was ogling her curves. Nadalia didn’t want to embarrass the poor girl and almost pitied her for being so small in his presence.
The more Anderson drank, the more hunger appeared in his eyes as he watched her. The gesture didn’t faze Nadalia. He would never act on any impulses that would put his friendship with Sage in jeopardy. Besides, she was used to men lookin
g at her like she was a delectable meal.
Vonnie was the consummate cool girl who got along with everybody. Nadalia thought about spending more time with her one-on-one.
Pearson was doing what she did best, drinking like a fish until her head bobbed and her words slurred. As brilliantly smart and pretty as she was, Nadalia felt like the drinking took something from her.
All seemed to be going well around the table as everyone enjoyed the dinner and desserts Nadalia’s friend, an award-winning pastry chef, prepared for the evening.
Then, Pearson slammed her glass down and closed her eyes briefly before saying, “I know I’m not the only one who sees Andy’s prying eyes ogling Nadalia’s Kim-Kardashian-ass every time she moves.”
Silence arrested the room. Ryan looked aside and tightened her lips. Vonnie and Nadalia’s mouths fell open. The men were still.
Anderson creased his brows. Sage narrowed his gaze at no one in particular.
The pause in the room swelled.
Niles placed his hands on Pearson’s shoulder. “Pearson!” Niles admonished, but that didn’t stop the next explosion.
“No! You’re not the only one who sees it,” Ryan said.
If there were a deeper level of silence possible, the room achieved it at that moment. “And it’s making me sick to my stomach. I may not have a ‘fat ass,’ but I’m still a good woman.” She directed her attention to Anderson. “And I’m still you’re frigging wife!”
“Ryan, you’re drunk,” Anderson said.
“Not drunk enough,” she spat back.
Pearson laughed, breaking the heavy quietness of the room and then reached over, picked up a bottle of wine and filled Ryan’s glass to the rim. “Have some more,” she said and laughed again.
Niles looked at her and stretched his eyes.
“Okay people. We’ve been having a great time so far. Let’s not spoil it,” Nadalia said, holding up her hands. We’ve all had a lot to drink. No one means any harm.” Nadalia looked at Sage to gauge his expression.
Anderson also looked at Sage, whose face now bordered between confusion and disbelief. “I’d never disrespect you, man. You have a beautiful wife, but we’re friends. I’d never cross any lines with you.”
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