“I think you'll like this one. It's set up in the east wing of the house and I can't wait to see what you think.”
We walk arm in arm through the long window-lined hallway. I glance out to the tree-dotted lawn, the tickle of irritation and worry at his declaration forgotten as I take in the views. The white corrugated roof of a building at the south end of the estate catches my eye.
I’ve been waiting for a moment to drop the request casually. “When we’re done, can you show me the lodge?” I ask Kwame.
“The storage shed? Why?” he asks.
“The art is stored away in there. Your dad said it’s inaccessible, but I don’t even know where it is.”
He frowns but shrugs. “It’s down the back terrace. All the way at the bottom on the way to that labyrinth. I’ll show you before we leave.”
“Great, thank you.” That went so much better than I'd hyped up in my head.
We walk into the lush room with its oversized, comfortable-lookingchairs and vantage point that means during the day it gets the best light. I see a woman standing in front of a clothes rack and what from here looks like half a dozen people standing behind it, waiting for us.
My steps falter, and I grab Kwame's hand and squeeze it to me and stop. “What is that? Who are those people?”
“Wardrobe, make-up, your glam squad. And a stylist from the salon you mentioned.”
I chuckle and glance up at him. He remembers everything.
The first night we spent together he listened to me grumble as I put my hair in pin curls, whining about wishing I’d gone to Cole Stevens for my blowout before we left. A young woman approaches us. “Ms. Sackey. We are at your service. We've set up the in-home spa. We will get started, have a small break for lunch, and then finish just in time for the people who will be dressing you to arrive.”
My eyes widen and I look back at Kwame, who is watching me with a smile on his face. “Is this for real?”
“One hundred percent,” he says and grins, and then he walks over and drops a sweet kiss on my mouth and against my lips. “You deserve it, have fun. I'll see you in a bit.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Kwame
Full Picture
Growing up in Washington, DC, I hear people described as game changers all the time. Hell, I’ve been called one myself. But I didn’t truly understand what the phrase meant until the day she walked into my life, pulled me in, shook me up, and rearranged my world view irrevocably.
And tonight, she’s stunning.
Sin likes to be the observer and almost exclusively wears all black to blend in. Tonight she is dressed like she wants to make sure she’ll never be forgotten.
Her traditional two-piece shirt and top is made of the purple Kente cloth specially woven for this year’s Palm Sunday.
The skirt is the traditional floor-length mermaid silhouette. The top is a strapless white bodice that clings to her torso and has a dramatic lift on one side that looks like a wave breaking on a shore.
Her neck is bare but for a gold necklace string of Adinkra symbols that collar her throat like a string of golden runes. Her hair is in a sleek bun that shows off her elegant bone structure.
Every head turns as she passes them on her way to me.
She puts her hand into mine and expels a breath as if she’s relieved when our fingers link.
“You're late,” she grumbles, and I want to lean forward and pullthat pouty lip between my teeth and then lick it.
“How long have you been waiting for me?”
“My whole life it feels like,” she purrs and steps into my side.
I slip my arm around her waist, savoring the way it seems to curve perfectly into her side, and how she moves into me without any hesitation at all.
“Are you okay? Being here, I mean?” She searches my face and the worry in her eyes kill me. I thought I was hiding my discomfort with being here better.
