by Pamela Yaye
“It’s too bad more corporations won’t get behind the city.” Warrick stuck a cherry tomato into his mouth and chewed slowly. “Thousands of families still live in those cramped FEMA trailers and rebuilding has been a slow undertaking.”
“It’s tragic. Many of the residents I’ve talked to feel like they’ve been forgotten. If everyone did their part, we could get the city cleaned up a whole lot faster.”
“That’s what my dad keeps saying. He wants me to head down there, but I don’t know if I can find time in my schedule.”
“Make time,” she told him. “The camera crews are gone and all of the volunteers have returned home. Those families need help now more than ever.”
“Maxim Designs and Architects will be well-represented. When I told my staff about the event, everyone volunteered to go. Payton will be there and she’ll be thrilled to see you. In fact, she was the one who showed me your People magazine cover.”
Tangela forked salmon into her mouth. She didn’t want to talk about the interview and had hoped he wouldn’t mention it. Steering the conversation to a safer topic, she asked if he was still coaching his nephew’s soccer team. “The season’s about to start up again, right?”
“Yeah, and I’m still trying to whip the little rug rats into shape.”
She laughed. “Warrick, they’re in preschool!”
“Never too young to be the best,” he quipped, smiling easily. “I love coaching Brandon and every time he scores a goal, he breaks out into the widest grin. As much as I enjoy it, I might not be able to coach the entire season. I have too much going on at the office.”
“Are you still working six days a week?”
Warrick nodded.
“That’s got to be tough.”
“It is, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. You know me, I thrive under pressure.”
“That you do,” she agreed, studying him quietly. “That’s one thing I loved about living in Mexico. The people are just as busy as we are here, but they make time to kick back and unwind. They go to the beach, play cards or pile into a family member’s house for dinner.”
“Did you go to the Mayan ruins while you were in Mexico?”
He sat quietly, listening, thinking, contemplating. Tangela knew how to tell a story and shared all the ups and downs of living in one of his favorite countries. Turned on by the sudden vibrancy of her voice, he found it a challenge to remain in his seat.
Itching to touch her, but aware of his surroundings, he circled his hands around his glass, but wished he was palming her full, curvy waist instead. The animated expression on Tangela’s face brought back warm memories. Memories of sunbathing in St. Croix, roasting marshmallows by the fireplace and curling up in bed watching their favorite movies.
As Warrick listened to Tangela talk about her new four-bedroom condo, he realized it wasn’t her body or her incredible cooking that he missed, it was her companionship. No one was at home to greet him at the end of a long day or listen to him vent about his employees and clients. His friends were cool, but no one understood him or supported him the way Tangela did. Not even Quinten, and they’d been boys since high school.
“You must be so bored. I’ve been talking about myself nonstop.”
“Well, nothing’s changed,” he joked, winking at her. “You still talk a lot!”
Laughing, she picked up her napkin and threw it at him. “Ha, ha, you’re a regular Chris Rock. They should give you a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame!”
When their waiter returned to collect their plates, Tangela sneaked a look at her watch. She couldn’t believe they’d been chatting for the last two hours. Warrick was a student of the world, unlike anyone she’d ever met, and as committed to his family as he was to his career. He was every inch a businessman, but a kindhearted soul, too. Too bad he hadn’t wanted to marry her.
“Maybe after lunch we could—” Warrick broke off when his cell phone rang. Smiling sheepishly, he pressed Talk and greeted his friend. “Hey, DeAndre, what’s up?”
“Nothing. I’m just crawling out of bed. Took a fine-ass honey home last night.”
“Lucky you.”
“You want to roll? She has a twin sister.”
Warrick didn’t even consider the offer. “No thanks.”
“Are we still going to Henderson?”
“Yes, but it has to be later on in the day,” he explained. “I have to go into the office for a few hours this afternoon.”
“Well, shoot, let’s go now. I can be ready in—”
“I can’t. Tangela and I are having brunch.”
“What? Don’t tell me you took her home last night.…”
Warrick turned away, but Tangela could hear DeAndre through the phone, as clear as a whistle. She thought of going to the ladies’ room to give Warrick some privacy, but when the lights dimmed and a hush fell over the crowd, she decided against it. The concert was about to start and she didn’t want to miss a second of the show.
“DeAndre, we’ll talk later.” Eyes glued on Tangela, he watched her rock back and forth in her seat, a wide smile on her face. She was clapping to the foot-stomping beat and when the emcee asked the audience to stand, she shot up out of her chair. “Call me back in an hour.”
“Don’t take her back to your place,” his friend warned, his voice colder than steel. “You’re headed for disaster if you do.”
“Later, man.” Warrick ended the call, switched his phone to Vibrate and pocketed it. Clapping to the beat of the loud, thumping bass guitar, he listened as the choir belted out a toe-tapping rendition of “Oh Happy Day.”
Wanting to be closer to Tangela, Warrick stood up and went over to where she was standing. He was enjoying the show, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Tangela. She didn’t shop in high-end boutiques or buy five-hundred-dollar jeans, but she was always well put together. Perfect hair. Classy outfit. Inviting smile. A rush of feeling came over him, and he stepped behind her, circling his hands around her hips.
Tangela exhaled. The guitar was thumping, the drums were loud and the singing high-pitched, but she could still hear the staggered beating of her heart. His touch warmed her and fueled thoughts of what had happened yesterday in Sage and Marshall’s kitchen. She stole a look over her shoulder. He loosened his hold around her waist, but didn’t release her. When he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, her smile came back. He was right. She was beautiful and nothing made her feel sexier than being in his arms.
At the end of the show, the audience was invited to join the band onstage for the final song. The jazzy, upbeat rendition of “Amazing Grace” drew men, women and children out of their seats and into the aisles.
“Tangela, you should go down there and join the group.”
“Quit teasing me. You know what a horrible singer I am.”
“You’re not that bad,” he teased. “But you should sing backup. There are little kids here and we don’t want them to cry.”
Laughing dryly, she bumped him with her hips. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Can I see you sometime this week?” Worried his voice didn’t carry over the music, he leaned and spoke directly into her ear. “Are you free on Thursday night?”
“No, I have my Spanish-language class.”
“What about the day after?”
She shook her head. “I’m going bowling some with friends, and the following night I have a date. The next morning I fly out to New Orleans.”
“When did you get so busy? You used to enjoy staying in with a good book.” Or with me went unsaid. These days, Tangela was always out—mingling, socializing, dating. So unlike the woman he’d fallen in love with. “Every time I went out with the guys you’d give me a hard time, and now you’re partying like it’s 1999!”
“When I got back to town, I joined every club I could think of,” she said. Chin up, shoulders squared, Tangela oozed self-confidence. “If not for our breakup, I probably never would have moved to Mexico, or discovered how much I love pl
aying certain sports. Now I surf, jog and even do a little yoga.”
“I’m really proud of you.”
His touch was deliberate, but she pretended not to notice. Better not to encourage him. A man of extraordinary wealth and power, Warrick James Carver looked the part, dressed the part and didn’t ever let his competitors forget it. If she was ever foolish enough to let her guard down, she’d be toast. “I’m glad you finally feel good about yourself, Angie, but you didn’t need to lose a single pound.” Lowering his head, he moved his hands up and down her shoulders. “You know I love thick, curvy types, and, baby, you were stacked.”
Her stomach coiled in knots. Tangela couldn’t concentrate when Warrick was standing this close, and she felt a dull ache between her legs. Praying the feeling would pass quickly, she fingered the ends of her hair. “I’ve never heard such a unique arrangement to this song. This choir is really amazing.”
“And so are you,” he confessed. “I still can’t get over how much you’ve changed. You’re more confident, more outgoing and there’s nothing sexier than an independent woman who knows what she wants and works hard to get it.”
A strange sensation came over her. Amid the music, the dim lighting and the appetizing aromas in the air, she felt a sudden, irrepressible need to kiss Warrick. Not just kiss him, but to wrap herself up in his arms and have her fill. Conscious of what had happened last night and not wanting to humiliate herself in public, she returned to her seat, silently vowing never to be alone with Warrick Carver again.
Chapter Eleven
“Happy Holidays!” Tangela said, glancing down at the man’s electronic boarding pass. “Good evening, Mr. Heinrich. Your seat is on the right, two rows down.”
Watching the elderly man march off, she noted the plane was more than half-full. Fifteen minutes from now they’d be airborne, en route to New Orleans. When she turned around to greet the remaining passengers, Warrick was standing there, smiling down at her.
He smelled delicious and his musky cologne suited him. Well-dressed in an exquisite cream suit, accessorized with a gold Concord watch, he reminded her of a young black business tycoon she’d once seen on the cover of Newsweek. With Warrick’s drive and tenacity, it was only a matter of time before he was bestowed with the same honor.
“Do you mind showing me to my seat, Ms.? I’m a business-class passenger in 3B.”
Tangela concealed a smile. “Not a problem, sir. Please follow me.”
When his suitcase was safely stowed and he was seated comfortably, she flipped through the stack of magazines in the overhead bin and pulled out his favorite publications. “We have Time, Business Today and the Wall Street Journal if you’re interested.”
He held out his hand. “Oh, I’m very interested.”
“Are we going to keep pretending we don’t know each other, or are you going to tell me what you’re doing on this flight?”
“Urban Development is an organization that’s near and dear to my heart and you’re right, I should be there,” he answered, loving the way she looked in her cute American Airlines uniform. None of the other flight attendants filled out the polyester sweater and skirt like she did.
“So, you’ll be there for the weekend?”
“No. I’ll be there for two weeks. Dad’s holding the fort while I’m away.”
They fumbled through small talk, and when a teenager asked for help with her carry-on bag, Tangela made a quick getaway. Seeing Warrick left her rattled, and she couldn’t seem to get anything right. She accidentally slammed the lavatory door on Carmen’s finger and knocked over a kid playing in the aisle. Tangela could recite the safety announcement in her sleep, but when she caught Warrick watching her, she stumbled over her words like a felon on the witness stand.
Once the pilot switched off the seat-belt light and dinner was served, Tangela joined her coworkers in the galley. “Thank God this is a direct flight,” she said, breaking the tab on her diet soda. “I don’t know how much more of 12C I can take.”
“You had a run-in with her, too?” Carmen asked, shoving potato chips into her mouth. “Could she be any more obnoxious? ‘Get me a blanket. Reheat my coffee. I want mineral water.’ What does she think this is, Club Med?”
“Forget Ms. Collagen Injections,” Marilyn said, smoothing down the hair on top of her head. “Did you guys see the hottie in first class?”
“Oh, yeah,” Carmen sang, winking at Tangela. “He’s a fine one, all right.”
“He’d be even sexier if he ditched the glasses. They make him look nerdy.”
Tangela choked on her soda. Nerdy wasn’t a word she’d ever use to describe Warrick. Intellectual, yes, staid even, but nerdy? Never. He had a voracious thirst for knowledge and his dreams and imagination were far beyond what most people could fathom. Then, there were all the naughty things he enjoyed doing in bed.
“Who’s the filet mignon for?” Tangela asked, eyeing Marilyn. “Everyone in first class has been served.”
She winked. “I know, but I thought Mr. Carver might want seconds.”
“Good idea,” Carmen agreed, prying the tray from her coworker’s hands. “Back off, Pocahontas. He’s taken.”
Tangela laughed, but stopped when Carmen shoved the tray at her. “Get going.”
“No way. He’ll think I’m making a play for him or something.”
“You are!” Carmen pushed her back into the aisle. “Tangela, this isn’t the Victorian age. You don’t have to sit around and wait for the man to choose you. If you want him, go get him.”
“Or I will.” Marilyn winked. “I could use a man like that.”
“All right, I’m going. I’ll drop this off and come right back.”
“No, you won’t,” Carmen told her. “Take your time. Sit, talk, catch up.” Shielding her mouth with the back of her hand, she whispered words of encouragement. “You can do it, chiquita. Hell, kiss him if you feel the urge. We won’t tell!”
As Tangela stepped away, she overheard Carmen issue a warning to Marilyn. “Back off of 3B. He belongs to Tangela.…”
Did he? It was a dizzying, exciting prospect. Her emotions were conflicted, but one thing was for sure. Warrick was in a class all by himself. She looked forward to seeing him, and felt giddy whenever he was around. Until the Gospel Brunch, she’d never imagined them getting back together, but now it was a real and frightening possibility.
Tangela stopped beside Warrick’s first-class seat. His head was lowered, his fingers were intertwined and he was breathing deeply. She’d finally worked up the nerve to come talk to him and he was sleeping. Disappointment set in as she turned away.
“Where are you running off to?” Yawning, he stretched his hands out in front of him. “I was just resting my eyes. Once we land, I’ll be off and running, so I figured I’d better sneak in a power nap now.”
Releasing the latch on the tray, she put down his plate. “Enjoy.”
“I always loved that about you. It didn’t matter how long my meeting ran or how late I came home, you always had a hot meal waiting for me.” Warrick took her hand and gestured for her to sit down. “And you served it with a smile, too. In this day and age, it’s hard to find a woman who still believes in spoiling her man.”
Unsure of what to say, Tangela stared out the small, streaky window. Dark amorphous clouds floated across the afternoon sky, and the awkward silence stretched on for several minutes. “How does everything taste?”
“Your steak is way better than this,” he announced, after tasting his food.
“You think so?”
“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”
After a long second, he turned so they were facing each other. What he had to say couldn’t wait until they arrived in New Orleans. “It’s been years since we broke up, but I still feel guilty for the way things ended. You deserved much more than I was willing to give.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she glanced nervously around the first-class cabin. Tangela wanted to hear him out,
but she wasn’t going to put her career on the line. Fraternizing with passengers was frowned upon and there was no telling who was watching. Aside from breaking company rules, Tangela was terrified of losing her heart to the man she’d once loved more than life itself. “Not here, Warrick. Not now.”
“Just hear me out. I promise to be brief.” His eyes tried to reach her. Thankful the seats across from them were empty but mindful of the couple behind them, he lowered his voice.
“I’m sorry for all the times I yelled at you, for all the times you ate dinner alone or had to attend an event without me. The truth is, life isn’t nearly as good as it was when we were together. Angie, do you think there’s hope for us? I’d like to give our relationship one last…”
His fingers played on her thigh, and Tangela felt hot down below. She wanted to believe Warrick when he said he wouldn’t hurt her, but she still had the scars from the last time she’d been burned. Two years ago, blind devotion had left her penniless and sleeping on Sage’s living-room couch. But she wasn’t a needy, self-conscious girl anymore. Like every woman, she struggled with the occasional bout of insecurity, but she no longer succumbed to the issues that had plagued her in her early twenties. She was confident, secure and for the first time in her life, playing by her own rules.
“Think about all the great times we had, traveling across the country, dining at the best restaurants, going to concerts.” Warrick hated to play the sympathy card, but he wanted to have some plans firmly in place before they arrived in New Orleans. How could they be in the same city for two weeks and not go on a date? “The times we spent together were some of the best moments of my life, Angie. I still care deeply for you and I can’t shake the feeling that we made a mistake breaking up.”
“When I moved to Mexico, I made a pact with myself not to get involved with anyone for at least a year. Once I was ready to date again, I decided I’d only date men I could see myself marrying and—” she forced the words out of her mouth “—you no longer fit in that category.”
