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“I know you’re probably tired from your flight, but can we go somewhere to talk?”
Demi hesitated, glanced at the limousine behind him. She wanted to say yes but she’d made plans with her friends and she wasn’t going to ditch them for Chase. If he wanted to see her, he’d have to fit into her schedule and not the other way around. “I have plans tonight, but I’m free next Wednesday if you want to meet up.”
“But that’s nine days away,” he argued. “I don’t think I can wait that long to see you.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m fully booked. I want to get everything out of life that I possibly can, and if that means working around the clock to achieve my dreams, then so be it.” For a split second she considered squeezing him in tomorrow, but dismissed the thought. Demi didn’t want to rearrange her schedule for a guy who’d already dissed her once.
“Put your number in my cell, so I can call you later,” he instructed, offering his iPhone.
Demi did and Chase promised to call her after he returned home from the hospital.
“Awesome,” she said, pleased by his words.
Moving closer, he gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Talk to you soon.”
Forcing her legs to move, Demi stepped past him and strode confidently toward the limousine. She was dying to know if he was watching her, but resisted the urge to turn around. The driver opened the rear door and Demi sank into her seat, smiling wide. Her girlfriends cheered and whistled as if they were sitting front row at a Beyoncé concert. “What’s the applause for?” she asked, admiring her flower arrangement.
“Girl,” Shante drawled, fanning her face with her passport, “you’re much stronger than me. If that chocolate hottie had touched me, I would have fainted at his feet!”
Chapter 14
“Honey, I’m home!” Chase joked, entering the master bedroom of his parent’s Bridgehampton estate, holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a gift basket in the other. Soul music was playing and the song made Chase remember all the times he’d seen his parents slow dancing in the kitchen to the Motown classic. They were a perfect match and he admired their unwavering devotion to each other. His father was the head of the family, but Estelle was the glue that held them together, and he was relieved his mom was back home. “There’s the most beautiful woman I know.”
“What a pleasant surprise.” Estelle was in the canopy bed, propped up with fluffy pillows, drawing in a sketch pad. Fashion magazines, notebooks and jewelry catalogs covered the ivory sheets, and her Persian kittens were curled up at the foot of the bed, purring softly. Estelle looked regal in a silk turban and gold, embroidered caftan. Her face brightened as he crossed the room to her. “It’s good to see you, son.”
“Mom, how are you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here. Now, come give your mother a hug.”
Leaning over, he kissed her on each cheek. “These are for you.”
“Thank you, honey.” Estelle buried her nose in the bouquet and inhaled, smiling as she admired the extravagant arrangement. “They’re lovely. Be a dear and put them by the window.”
Straightening to his full height, Chase glanced around the master bedroom. The aqua lamps, silk wallcoverings and ivory drapes gave the space a glamorous ambience. There were flowers everywhere—on the dresser, the armoire, the side tables, along the windowsill and fireplace—and the fragrant scent sweetened the air. It reminded him of the perfume Demi was wearing at the airport on Monday, and just the thought of her made him smile.
His thoughts returned to Monday. It had been three days since the “kidnapping,” but Chase still couldn’t believe what Katia and Mercedes had done.
Inside the taxi, he’d learned of their plan to drop him off at the airport to reunite with Demi, and had initially balked at the idea. But after watching the rest of the ten-minute video Demi had posted online, he’
d had a change of heart. He owed her an apology and liked the idea of surprising her at JFK even though they’d have an audience.
The women had given him strict instructions: apologize, ask Demi out, and get Geneviève’s autograph for Katia’s three-year-old niece. But the moment he’d seen Demi, he’d forgotten everything. He didn’t remember seeing Geneviève or anyone else. It didn’t matter; he’d succeeded in his mission and scored Demi’s number. He’d called her that night and every night since. Their conversations lasted for hours, and left him wanting more. She told great stories, made him laugh, and kept him guessing.
Demi was authentic and sincere, and she had a good head on her shoulders. He’d spent the morning coding, the afternoon in meetings and, if it were up to him, he’d see her every night of the week.
“It looks like a florist shop in here,” he said, putting the gifts on a side table.
Estelle beamed. “As you can see, I’m loved and appreciated by my friends, clients and associates. You should feel fortunate to call me mom.”
I am except for when you’re plotting and scheming with my ex. Chase wanted to talk to his mom about her friendship with Juliet, but he decided to broach the subject during his next visit. Chase scooped up the magazines, dumped them on the reading chair and sat on the king-size bed.
“Mom, what are you doing?” he asked, gesturing to the sketch pad nestled in her lap. Estelle enjoyed playing the role of the dutiful housewife, but she was an educated woman with an impressive résumé. “You’re supposed to be resting. Doctor’s orders.”
“No,” she corrected. “I’m supposed to be working. These designs aren’t going to create themselves, and I’m already behind schedule. I have several orders to fill by Easter and I don’t want to disappoint my clients.”
“And people wonder where I get my furious work ethic from. You’re tenacious.”
“I have to be. It wasn’t that long ago that black women were considered second-class citizens with no value, and I want to be a beacon of hope for my granddaughters, my community and the students at my alma mater...”
