Happy Hour (3 page)

Kat giggled. “The kissing game?” He nodded and with a mischievous grin on
his face, his cuteness factor sailed through the roof. “Believe it or not I was
kind of a shy kid, so I knew kids who played but I never had the
privilege.
Plus I wasn’t real cute. Buck teeth.”

He laughed. “You’re gorgeous now, and I think we should play. I want to
play with you.” He took her hands and sat down with her on his living room
floor. They sunk into the plush white carpeting. “We get to make up our own
rules, though.”

“Okay.” Kat had never in her life been so forward with a man and never
had she ever slept with a man after only a few hours of meeting him. She was
pretty sure that was where this was headed, and it was pretty wonderful.

“You spin,” he said.

“But there’s only the two of us.”

“Yep. That’s where our own rules come into play. Here. I’ll go first and
show you.” He spun and the bottle faced the sofa. “Look, it’s close to you. So
now I get to kiss you.” He reached out and touched her hair, then moved his
finger to her lips, tracing the outline of them with his thumb. “I’ve been
wanting to kiss your lips since I saw you this afternoon.”

A warm glow traveled through Kat. “Me too. I wanted to kiss you too.”

He inched closer and slid his lips across hers. She pulled away slightly.
“You okay?” he asked. She nodded and then leaned forward, running her hands
through his dark thick hair. “Your turn.” He pointed to the bottle.

She smiled and spun. “Huh. Landed on you.” Kat grazed his neck with her
lips and she nibbled on his ear. She kissed him on his lips, biting him on the
bottom lip.

“You vixen.”

She laughed. Christian grabbed the bottle of the seven-hundred-fifty-dollar
Bordeaux and uncorked it. He stood up and held out his hand. Kat took it and
followed him into his bedroom. “Don’t we need glasses?” she asked, pointing to
the wine.

He shook his head and pushed her back onto the bed, he lifted up her
shirt, exposing her belly where he drizzled a small amount of wine onto her
stomach and licked it off. Kat unbuttoned the rest of the blouse. She sat up.
“We should, ah, do you have ah…” It was so awkward to interrupt the moment, but
all the same she wasn’t taking any chances.

He held up a finger. “I’ll be back.” A couple of minutes later, Christian
came back from the restroom, condom in hand. He lit candles by the side of the
bed that smelled of vanilla, and turned on his stereo and played Bebel
Gilberto. Her seductive voice lingered in the air.

Christian lay next to Kat, took her in his arms, and again kissed her,
long hard, passionately. He turned her onto her stomach and drizzled more wine
down her back, licking it off of her, as he undid her bra. She rolled back over
and fumbled with the buttons on his jeans. He helped her and shook them off,
then slid his shirt over his head. Naked together, they took each other in,
their eyes lingering. He pulled her onto him. He smelled of cinnamon and
rosemary. He cupped her breasts, pulling her closer, running his tongue over
her nipples and then taking them one at a time inside his warm mouth. He
reached up and held her face in his hands.

Kat straddled him, not breaking their stride as he entered her, her hands
between his chest and shoulders. As they began to move together, electric
pulses ran up and down their bodies. It had never been like this before for
Kat, never in sync in this way with any man. He flipped her over onto her back,
kissing her face, her neck, her ears, his hands caressing her body, her fingers
sliding down his back. He pressed deeper into her. Kat sighed with pleasure,
moving her hips with Christian’s, the intensity increasing. She yelled out as
small waves of sweet ecstasy rolled through her into one crashing wave, her
body trembling as he also came, whispering in her ear, “Oh Lord, oh Kat.”

He held her in his arms afterwards, stroking her hair, caressing her body
and every so often whispering, “You are so beautiful. My God, you are
beautiful.”

Kat decided right then and there that not only did she love Christian
Reilly’s version of spin the bottle, she might have just fallen in love with
the man himself.  

Alyssa Johnson walked out of the funky flat where she taught art classes,
a sly smile on her face and a little weak in the knees. This was a great day.

She flagged down a cab and left Soho, heading uptown for the big dinner.
Alyssa looked at her left hand, spreading out her fingers. The four-carat
emerald-cut diamond with a band filled with three rows of smaller diamonds
sparkled in the sun. The sparkle from the sunrays bounced off the wet pavement
and into the late afternoon air, or maybe it was the diamond itself against her
dark skin that made everything glow and shimmer.  Alyssa couldn’t believe it.
She was really doing it. Getting married! And to the most delicious man in the
world. Terrell Henley. 

There was one problem though, a secret she’d shoved so far back into the
closet that she prayed the skeleton had turned to dust. She closed her eyes and
sunk back into the musty-smelling cab, the beauty of the day tarnishing. The
memories always invaded her right at those moments when she felt the happiest.
It was like a dark angel followed her knowing the exact moments when she might
need a reminder of what had happened. This dark angel was sure to keep her from
ever having total contentment for the rest of her life. That night rushed back
to her in a vividness she couldn’t deny. The skeleton had not turned to dust.

She opened her eyes, forcing the images away, but knowing what resulted
from that night could somehow, someday, show up in her life. Ironically, almost
as if she was being given a message, the sun disappeared behind the clouds
again and drops of rain splattered against the windshield. The rhythmic swoosh
and glide of the windshield wipers across the glass combined with the driver’s
choice in country music helped bring her back to the here and now.

But the memory screamed at her, swirling with a rush of adrenaline. It
wasn’t a matter of
if
her secret would be revealed. But a matter of
when. How would she explain herself to the man she planned to exchange vows
with in less than three months?

Terrell would understand. He embodied kindness and compassion. He had
political aspirations and was planning to run for Congress in the next few
years. From there, Alyssa knew his plans were even bigger. His dreams and goals
only made it that much more pertinent that she tell him her secret.

Tomorrow. Over lunch she would tell Terrell. He deserved to know, but how
would he react? She knew he would wonder why she hadn’t told him sooner. Not
tonight, though. Tonight was all about the two of them and their engagement.
His law partners were throwing a party for them at their favorite restaurant, Jazzman,
and when Terrell heard his best friend from childhood, James, and his wife,
Olivia, were coming, Alyssa thought she’d never seen him so excited. Terrell
planned to ask James to be his best man.

James had spoken with Alyssa on the phone to tell him that he and Olivia
would be flying in from New Orleans to join them at the party. She’d never met
James, but had heard story after story about him and the bond he and Terrell
shared growing up. They hadn’t seen each other in a few years because James and
his wife had an ever-expanding family, now with five children. Plus they’d
moved from the Big Apple to the Big Easy several years ago, where James owned
some nightclubs. This was going to be some wedding—old friends, new friends,
family. They would have it all.

The cab pulled up in front of the restaurant. Alyssa paid the driver and
got out. Terrell wanted to send a car for her, but she wasn’t sure about the
timing and insisted on getting a cab. She knew she might be late and, sweet man
that he was, he didn’t mind at all. He understood what her art meant to her.
And today of all days, the art studio owner had scheduled an appointment with
Raul Perez, the owner of The Perez Gallery, wanting to show him some of
Alyssa’s oils. He’d been impressed. Now he wanted to host a show at his
gallery! She couldn’t wait to tell Terrell. He’d be so happy and proud of her.
Everything was perfect. Almost. It would be though. Everything would be fine
once she told Terrell her shameful secret.

She opened the door to the restaurant and pushed back the hood on her
mink-lined coat, leaving the rain behind. The door shut and the outside world
was replaced with a vacuum of loud chatter and jazz over the speakers. The
smell of food cooking and the blur of people at the full bar made her smile. Terrell
had chosen this place because this was where they’d met. Lots of dark woods,
glass and mirrors, and dim lights made the place elegant and warm. It was
them
.
So very them from the day they met.

She clearly remembered that day sitting at the bar when Terrell came up
next to her. “Anyone sitting here?”

“No.” She didn’t look up from the white wine she’d been nursing.

“Rough day?” he asked.

She nodded. Her grandmother in Italy had passed away. It was expected
but, all the same, Alyssa had hoped she’d see her one last time.

“Want to tell me about it?” he asked.

She didn’t answer.

Usually a man asking her about her day offended her. Men in general often
offended her and she’d done her best over the years to stay away from them. She
forced herself to date off and on, and occasionally met a decent guy. But fear
always took over and she wouldn’t allow herself to get close to a man.

“I had a rotten day too. Lost a case.” His voice was strong but sincere.
“Looks like you could use a refill. Can I buy you a glass of wine?”

She started to glance up, with the word
no
at the ready, until she
saw who she was about to say no to. She stopped glancing and was now looking.
Her heart raced. In that second when her eyes met his, she was speechless for a
few moments until she finally replied, “That would be nice.”

Terrell introduced himself and pretty much from that moment on,  the two
became inseparable except when at work. He’d done something for her that no
other man had been able to. He released demons pent up in her for fifteen years,
demons that she didn’t think would ever escape her soul. The demons may have
been set free, but the fact of that night and what happened afterwards remained
buried. The dark angel didn’t live inside her any longer, but it remained
watchful.

“Hey, baby. There you are.” Terrell made his way toward her through a
throng of people and pulled her into him. His lips warm on hers, his body
comfortable, his scent familiar; musk and citrus. And those eyes of his were so
divine. “How did it go? The meeting with Perez?” He helped her out of her coat.

She grinned.

“I knew it!” He pointed at her. “He’s going to do a show, isn’t he?”

“He is.”

“Oh man, oh baby. That is great. Come on in. The usual suspects are here
from the office. I’ve been having a nice visit with James and his wife Olivia.”

“Good. They made it then?”

He nodded. “They did. She is as pregnant as can be again and James looks
to be matching her pound for pound. This’ll be number six. Six kids! Can you
believe that? I told him he better get fixed and then he’ll have to go on the
post-pregnancy diet with his wife. Back in the day there wasn’t an ounce of fat
on that guy. Guess that’s what marriage will do to you.” He winked.

“It better not.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled in
close. “I like you exactly the way you are.”

“That’s a good thing, because that’s what you’re getting.”

They walked into the back room reserved for large parties where many of
their friends and Terrell’s colleagues were having their fill of food and
drink. Olivia was easy to spot. Pregnancy became the woman, who tried to stand
as Alyssa and Terrell walked in.

“Please don’t,” Alyssa said. “You don’t need to get up.”

Olivia glowed like all pregnant women did, but this one had an extra
glow. She had the same color skin as Alyssa did—caramel. That’s what Alyssa’s
Italian mother called her—her ‘carmella la vida.’ When kids at school teased
her and called her an Oreo, her mother said to her. “No, you’re not. You’re
much sweeter than an Oreo. You are a caramel. And caramel is the sweetest of
all.” She loved her mom for trying to understand and help her. Her father told
her to ignore ignorance. That’s what he’d done all of his life. 

Olivia’s black hair cascaded down her back and her smile said it all; she
looked to be as sweet as the caramel Alyssa’s mama spoke of and a woman who
Alyssa liked as soon as she introduced herself.

“My husband will be back in a minute. He’s so darling. I’m feeling cold
and usually I run hot. Obvious by my condition, I guess.” She laughed. “He
insisted on running out and grabbing a shawl for me. He took Terrell’s car to
Bergdorf’s to buy one.”

“Does sound like a good man,” Alyssa said, and slid in next to her.

“You got one, too,” Olivia replied.

Terrell beamed. “
I’m
the lucky one.” He reached across the table
and took Alyssa’s hand.

“Terrell tells me that you’re an amazing artist,” Olivia said.

Before Alyssa could say anything, Terrell jumped in and told her, along
with anyone else at the table who’d listen, all about Alyssa’s artwork. “It’s
amazing stuff.  Brilliant. My baby is
brilliant
. You’ll all have to come
to the show. She does these oil pieces of vineyards and wine-related themes.”

“Vineyards?” Olivia asked. “What made you choose that motif?”

“My mother grew up in Tuscany. My grandparents had a small vineyard
there. My parents live there now and take care of the property. And my
grandfather is pretty frail these days. I haven’t been back for a while. About
three years or so, but Terrell and I are going to visit for the holidays next
year.”