“She’s done you a great service, Ms. Sackey. I don't take kindly to people defaming my character. It never ends well for them.” His smile widens but his expression is nothing but ice-cold malice.
Sofia turns and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ozwald, Ambassador Makumbi just arrived. We should go speak with him now.”
“No rest for the wicked, it seems. Till we meet again.” There’s a smile on his face as he puts a hand on my elbow, but there’s something in his eyes that makes me hope I never see him again.
Sofia turns to me and leans in so her mouth is by my ear. “If youwant to have a career in news or journalism at all, you aren’t going to bring this night up to anyone, ever. And if you want to have a job atThe Spectatoror any news organization again, you and I will never talk about it either. Now, leave before I have you thrown out.”
My heart kicks against my chest and I want to scream loud enough to shatter the windows.
I get on the escalator and pull my phone out to text Kwame to let him know not to bother coming after all. I’m about to hit send when I catch a glimpse of him walking up the path that leads to the front door.
We meet just as he’s coming through the entrance. He cuts a striking figure in a steel-grey tuxedo paired with a monochromatic teal shirt and tie.
Seeing him makes me reconsider leaving. He looks too good not to be seen tonight. I wear a lot of black but there’s nothing I love more than a well-dressed man who’s not afraid of color.
His suit looks like it’s custom tailored and it makes the most of the fit body genetics, running, and regular weightlifting have given him. Several heads turn as he strides through the clustered crowd of attendees. He stops to shake a few hands. But once he spots me coming down, he slips his hand in one pocket and navigates the crowd like he’s making his way to the end zone, his eyes intent on his path. And on me.
I can’t believe this dashing, immaculately groomed, custom couture wearing gentleman is the same casual, bike-riding hottie with a patient smile and beat-up sneakers who I’ve been sitting across my mother’s dining room table from for months. He looks like a totally different person.
“Hey, Superman,” I quip when we meet in the middle of the large reception area.
He wrinkles his nose. “Superman?”
“I’ll explain later. You ready to go?”
I hook an arm through his and turn us around toward the exit.
He digs his heels in and stops us mid motion. “The party’s that way.” He points over his shoulder.
“The person I came to see isn’t here, and there’s nothing interesting happening. But, if you want to go in and check it out, we can stay.”
That last part was my guilt for wasting his time and lying about it talking.
I cross my fingers he doesn’t take me up on it.
He looks over his shoulder, expression contemplative before he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m only here because you are. If you’re ready togo, so am I.” He reaches up and unclips his bow tie. “I can’t stand most of these pretentious assholes.”
I laugh, and just like that, the knot in my gut is gone. “Thank you for being so cool about everything.”
“Of course. I sent my driver home so it’s just us.”
Just us.The words make something in my chest flutter. We step out in the unseasonably cold evening and the noise of people and cars moving up and down Fourteenth Street. Before I can express my regret over not bringing a coat, he drapes his tuxedo jacket over my shoulders.
“Thank you.” I snuggle into the warm silk-lined garment and allow myself a long inhale. He smells so good. I look at the sky and say a silent thank you to whatever star he fell from.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kwame
Double Life
I’d been annoyed that I’d had to send Sin ahead just to have the wind taken out of her sails. But now that we’re driving away from DC, tie loose, heels in the back seat, I’m glad I got to skip to the good part of the evening.
We haven’t spoken since we agreed to get food from Ben’s Chili Bowl on our way to my car.
I put on the heated seats, cracked open the moon roof, and turned on the radio. The quiet rush of wind and WHUR’s Quiet Storm show serves up the perfect soundtrack for a night that feels, suddenly, full of possibility.
“I love this song,” Sin says quietly, just loud enough to be heard over New Edition’s “Can You Stand the Rain?” She leans forward and turns the small volume knob on the console.
