Page 17 of Double

“What—”

“Just tell Lyric that we’re having dinner at Coastal Harbor Supper Club. She’ll take care of you.”

7

Butterfly Stomach

Tinsley

It had taken Double and Lyric three trips to bring in everything from her trunk. There were multiple suitcases, bags, and clothing racks. I stood at the front door in awe as they made trips back and forth. Once everything was in the house, she suggested that Double and I go back to doing whatever we were doing while she set things up. A little less than an hour later, she called out and told us she was ready.

I was not prepared for what I saw. Lyric had basically turned the hallway, and the guest room I was using, into a boutique. Clothing was everywhere, but it was also neatly laid out. Pants, tops, dresses, skirts, and jackets were on clothing racks. Tables had been set up to display t-shirts, panties, bras, socks, leggings, joggers, loungewear, and anything else the human mind could conjure.

I took it in with my mouth gaped open and my jaw on the floor. Double took it in with a smile like Lyric had made him extra proud. Lyric waved her arm around at the offerings, the way a game show model would, and told me to select everything that spoke to me.

I was from money. My family had been rich for generations with the success of the paper company, but I had never experienced anything like what Double exposed me to. Turning your home into a boutique and telling your wife to “shop” it? That was wealth on a whole new level. I wasn’t sure what to think or do.

I must’ve been taking too long to do whatever I was supposed to do because Lyric started advising me. She picked up a few items and talked to me about them. She had just started to explain the culture of Chicago in reference to fashion when Double walked away, leaving the two of us alone.

“I’m sure I can’t imagine how crazy all of this is for you,” Lyric said to me while pulling items from the rack. “I heard some of your story, how you had to leave your own country unexpectedly. I mean, I don’t know everything that happened to you or how you and Double met. Still, even with not knowing everything, I have to tell you that you’re a thug.”

I laughed because the way she said it let me know it was a compliment and not an insult. “What do you mean?”

She swiped panties and a bra from the table before handing me a stack of clothes. “Try this on.” She pointed toward the screen she’d set up as a partition. “I mean,” she continued as I disappeared behind the screen, “you must’ve been in a real hurry not to even bring underwear with you. But here you are, making the most out of life in a new country.”

“Trust me, I’m not a thug.” I took off the clothes that belonged to Double. “I spent my first twenty-four hours here crying nonstop. Double’s been nothing but patient and kind. I’ve been a basket case.”

“I’m probably biased, but Double is a good man, Savannah.”

“Tinsley. My name’s Tinsley.”

She giggled. “I forgot you aren’t from here. You probably don’t get that reference. Anyway, Double’s a really good guy.”

“So far, he’s been really nice. He said you guys are cousins?”

“Yeah. Our grandmothers were sisters—not Lynne, but his biological grandmother, Angelica. My sister, Angel, is named after her. His biological grandmother was killed behind some street drama back in the ’90s, and my grandmother, Nicole, used to be a crackhead, but she’s been sober for about fifteen or twenty years now.”

“Wow.” That was all I could think of to say. That went to show that no matter how together people seemed, every family had drama.

Coastal Harbor Supper Club was located less than fifteen minutes from Double’s home. Since I’d arrived at his house at night and never left, I had no idea what the community around his house looked like. Stepping out into the setting sun as we walked to his truck, I took in my surroundings. I wasn’t surprised at all that the neighborhood before me looked affluent. Double and his family obviously had money. What did surprise me was the fact that we took a street that butted up against a beautifully pristine blue body of water.

“I don’t know much about America,” I shared as I sat next to him, comfortably resting in the luxury of his leather seats. The smell of his cologne with its solar and aquatic notes made me want to nestle my nose in the crook of his neck. Instead, I kept my hands folded in my lap and continued my thoughts. “I know you all have oceans. Is that an ocean? We’re not on the coast, right? What body of water is that?”

He glanced over at me before putting his eyes back on the road. “Nah. We’re in Chicago. It’s in what’s called the Midwest. The Great Lakes region. That’s Lake Michigan.”

I gasped. “It seems massive for a lake.”

“It’s like the third largest lake in America. It’s big—not ocean big, but big.”

I stared at the water from the window. “Do people swim in it?”

“They do. The beach is a big thing here in Chicago. People definitely swim in it.”

Watching the lake brought a flood of memories to my mind about the soft, blue waters of Iredia. I thought of the places on the island where I grew up playing, visiting, vacationing, and learning but would probably never see again. The ache in my heart was fierce. Was my family safe? Was Faylise safe?

Double pulled up to the valet. Before handing off the keys, he walked around the truck, opened the door for me, took my hand, and helped me out. He kept my hand in his as we stepped inside. I was immediately hit by the ambiance—low lights, earthy tones, and soft music. He said something to the hostess, and she smiled at him before grabbing a few menus and suggesting that we follow her.

I wasn’t sure where Double’s eyes were, because he was behind me. My eyes were on the lady’s shapely ass and the way she threw it from side to side with each step she took. If she thought I didn’t peep the way she eye-banged my husband when he spoke to her, she was wrong. I did. Now, here she was, trying to entice him with her fraudulent ass. Iredia was as well known for its cosmetic surgery industry as it was for its tourism. I knew a manufactured ass when I saw one.