Body Heat
She was the only person entrusted with a key to the studio apartment. Nikki closed her eyes and made a weak prayer for her baby sister to go away.
Nikki was the older sister. She was supposed to be the leader, grounded—someone her sister should or could look up to. Instead, Barbara was the perfect child. The child that could dance circles around Baryshnikov and play piano like she was born with keys glued to her fingertips. She was the straight-A student who was always at the top of every honor roll throughout her junior and high school years. From there she conquered medical school and was now dating a freaking neurosurgeon.
Bottom line: Barbara Rihanna Jamison was the daughter her father was always proud of—the one that he could never stop talking about. The one he kept saying Nikki needed to be more like.
“Nikki?” Barbara chirped when she cracked open the front door.
Nikki’s hand shot out, grabbed the pillow again and smacked it down onto her head. She gave a less than one percent chance of her sister believing that she wasn’t buried under the covers in the bed.
“Nikki?” Barbara rushed into the apartment, closed the door and then tiptoed her way toward the bedroom sectioned off by a room divider. When she reached the foot of her sister’s bed, she started pulling the sheets and comforters from her sister’s body. “I know you’re in there, Nikki.”
“Go away!” Nikki shouted into the pillow.
“I can’t.” Barbara said. “Not until I at least know that you’re okay.”
The pillow popped off again. “See. I’m okay.” She forced a joker’s smile. “Now go away!”
The ever-smiling Barbara cocked her head. “You can’t lie in bed all day.”
“Sure I can. Watch me.” Nikki rolled over and tried to pull the comforter back over her body, but Barbara held a firm grip and refused to let go. Instead of giving up, Nikki redoubled her efforts and before she knew it, she was engaged in a full fledged tug-of-war.
“Let go,” Nikki hissed, tugging.
“You’re acting ridiculous,” Barbara reasoned, tugging right back.
“So what! Nobody asked you to come here anyway.” Tug.
“I was worried!” Tug.
“Well, who asked you to worry? I just want to be left alone!” Tug.
“Fine!” Barbara let go of the comforter just when Nikki was about to throw her full weight on the next tug.
Next thing Nikki knew she was careening over the side of the bed and the left side of her face smacking against the hardwood floor. “Ow.”
“Ohmigod, Nikki!” Barbara raced around the bed. “Are you all right?” She knelt down and turned her sister over onto her side. “It sounded like you hit your head.” She immediately started examining her.
“Will you stop it?” Nikki said, pulling away.
“Just hold still. I need to make sure that you don’t have a concussion.”
Nikki swatted her sister’s hands away. “I’m fine.”
Barbara finally snapped. “Why are you always fighting me?”
“Why do always think you can fix things?” Nikki barked as her eyes welled with tears. “You can’t fix this, Barbara. So please, please stop trying.”
Her little sister’s eyes glossed with tears as her bottom lip started trembling. “Okay.” She glanced around. “Then I guess I better…” She stood up and hand-ironed her skirt down. “I’ll just…talk to you later.” Barbara turned and headed toward the door.
Nikki watched as her sister walked away with her shoulders slumped and her head hung low and felt like a complete ass for blowing up at her. “Barb,” she called.
But Barbara didn’t stop walking.
“Barbara!”
Her sister opened the front door and then slammed it behind her.
Fearing that she had finally done it, Nikki jumped to her feet and ran after her. “Barbara!” Damn, me and my big mouth. She gave chase all the way out of the building, but like in everything else, Barbara was a better runner, too. Great. Just great.
Later that night, Nikki’s girlfriends Antoinette and Gwen pulled off a miracle and actually managed to get Nikki out of her self-imposed exile and dragged her down to their favorite hole-in-the-wall club, Sparkle. The place was fairly popular with the artsy crowd where everyone pretty much just bragged about whatever project they managed to snag over the loud eighties music.
“See. Don’t you feel better getting out of the house?” Antoinette said, wearing her usual sunny smile.
As far as Nikki knew there wasn’t a tragedy that Antoinette couldn’t put a positive spin on. That habit had a way of being both endearing and annoying. “I guess it’s all right.”
“Well, I think it’s awfully brave of you,” Gwen said, expressing her usually pessimistic view. “Had it been me up there flashing my ass to a theater full of people, I wouldn’t come out of my apartment for at least a couple of years.”
“Good night,” Nikki turned around on her bar stool and started to climb off when Antoinette grabbed her by the shoulders.
“No. You’re not going anywhere.” She twirled Nikki back around. “Gwen, you’re not helping.”
Gwen shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just keepin’ it real.”
“No. You’re just—”
“Just let it go,” Nikki said. “I’m not in the mood to play referee.” She held up her empty glass toward the female bartender that was splitting her time between flirting with the male customers and working. “Refill.”
“Isn’t that your third drink?” Antoinette asked.
“Oh, please,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “The only time to get concerned is when she starts ordering drinks that actually have alcohol in them.”
Nikki twisted her face into a comical frown. “I may be depressed, but I still know that me and alcohol don’t mix.”
“Amen,” Antoinette agreed. No doubt she was remembering a college spring break that landed Nikki a starring role in Girls Gone Wild.
“Another virgin piña colada?” the bartender asked in a dull voice.
“If you don’t mind.” Nikki smiled tightly because she detected the woman was struggling to refrain from rolling her eyes.
“Comin’ right up.” She took Nikki’s empty glass and walked away.
Once her back was turned, Nikki felt free to roll her eyes first. Then as she started to turn her attention back to her two girlfriends, she caught a few stares and hand-pointing aimed in her direction. “Just great,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Don’t pay them any mind,” Antoinette said, without having to be told what Nikki was referring to—which meant that she saw them, too.
“Yeah,” Gwen said and then yelled above the music. “What the hell are y’all looking at?”
The staring and pointing stopped. Not too many people were bold enough to challenge Gwen. On top of being loud and boisterous, she was a very large and rather intimidating woman who’d rather knuckle up than talk it out.
“Mmm-hmm. That’s what I thought,” Gwen mumbled.
Nikki shook her head. She didn’t know if her friend was making it better or worse.
“One virgin piña colada,” the bartender said, returning. “I even added an extra pineapple wedge.”
“Thanks,” Nikki deadpanned. But as she stared down at the tropical drink, she didn’t really have the urge to drink it. “Maybe Gwen is right,” she said. “It’s too soon for all of this.”
Gwen bobbed her head in agreement.
“Nonsense. Whenever you fall off a horse, you get back up,” Antoinette said, pushing Nikki’s drink toward her.
Nikki didn’t respond. She was too busy listening to Michael Jackson scream “Beat It.”
“Maybe what you need is a little vacation,” Antoinette finally conceded, “someplace where you can just get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.”
“Yeah, someplace where they don’t know your name,” Gwen added.
Antoinette angled a hard glare at her friend.
“What? I’m just keepin’ it real.”
“Well, unless this magical place can be reached by the subway, I can’t afford it. And hell, to be honest, I can’t afford that.”
Her friends’ faces collapsed in disappointment. After a few jams from Bobby Brown and Prince, Nikki sighed. “It would be nice to get away.” She took a long sip of her frosty drink. “Somewhere tropical, exotic.”
“Hmm. I know a place like that,” said a woman sitting to Nikki’s right.
“Really?”
The woman shrugged. “I used to date this really good-looking guy out in Atlanta. Actually, he was more along the lines of gorgeous.” She laughed. “Anyway, he has a beautiful vacation home out in Saint Lucia that he hardly ever goes to. Have you ever been to Saint Lucia?”
Nikki shook her head.
“Beautiful.” The woman rolled her eyes. “White sand and a breathtakingly blue ocean. And the people there are so nice. There’s not a day that I don’t dream about going back to that island. Hell, I could stay at that big old empty house of his and he’d never know it.” She laughed.
Nikki perked up. “Really?”
“Really,” the woman reaffirmed.
The wheels in Nikki’s head started turning and a smile started to creep across her face.
“Oh, how I wish I could have snagged a ring from that man.”
“Why didn’t you?” Gwen asked, leaning forward. It was nothing for Gwen to jump into someone else’s Kool-Aid and stir it around.
“Because Hylan Dawson is not the marrying kind.”
Chapter Three
18 months later…
Gisella’s and Charlie Masters’s hands overlapped as they gripped the knife and together sliced into a popular Sinful Chocolate creation: white chocolate and lemon cake. The happy couple smiled at the wedding photographer and then at each other before shoving a handful of the decadent dessert into each other’s faces.
Laughter rippled through the large gathering of friends and family and then a cheer went up when Charlie then tried to kiss and lick his wife’s face clean.
“I love you, baby,” he whispered, snapping their bodies together despite the small baby bump and dipping his head for a long, soulful kiss. She tasted so sweet.
“Je t’aime aussi,” she responded when he allowed her to come up for air.
Charlie groaned at the instant hard-on he acquired whenever Gisella spoke French. Now that they’ve said their I dos, Charlie was ready to skip right to the honeymoon, so much so he found himself asking Gisella every five minutes, “Can we leave now?”
Charlie laughed as his mother gripped his cheeks and tried to pinch the blood out of them. “My baby has made me so proud. Not only did you give me a beautiful daughter-in-law, but I’m finally getting my grandbaby.”
“Anything for you, Mama.” He kissed her cheek.
“Of course you know I was right,” she added, releasing his cheeks. “Didn’t I tell you if you found a woman who could cook like your mama then you had a winner?”
“That you did, Mama.” He wrapped his arm around her.
“I just wish your father was here to see this day,” she said. “Married and about to become a father. He would be so proud. I am.”
“Thanks Mom.” He kissed her lovingly on her upturned cheek.
“Mama Arlene,” Taariq Bryson, a fellow Kappa Psi Kappa brother, greeted her with a wide smile. “I don’t know if Charlie told you, but we talked it over and he’s completely cool with calling me Daddy. All you have to do now is accept my proposal. I’ll make an honest woman out of you.”
“You’re so bad.” Arlene blushed as she gave Taariq a welcoming hug. “Now when are you getting married?”
“As soon as you say yes.”
She rolled her eyes. “You just love me for my fried chicken.”
“That’s not true. You make a mean sweet potato pie, too.”
Arlene laughed and then continued to giggle like a schoolgirl when Taariq asked for a dance. As he led her to the dance floor, Charlie was left to shake his head.
“So you finally did it,” Hylan said, stepping forward and slapping his large hand across Charlie’s back. “You waved the white flag and surrendered to the enemy.”
Charlie laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t start that with me.”
“What?” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m just saying. We were supposed to be playas for life. Remember?”
Derrick Knight, another fraternity brother, rushed up behind Hylan and quickly put him in a headlock. “Whatever he’s saying, don’t listen to him.”
“Oh, he’s harmless.” Charlie chuckled. “I’m just waiting for the day when he starts waving his own white flag.”
“It’ll never happen,” Hylan croaked from under Derrick’s arm.
“It doesn’t make any sense to be so hardheaded,” Derrick said, releasing him.
Hylan inhaled a deep breath and then playfully lunged a left jab at Derrick’s shoulder. “Mark my words. A brother like me ain’t going down without a fight. You’ll have to pry my playa card out of my cold dead hands.”
“All right,” Derrick said. “We’re going to hold you to that.”
“Charlie,” said Stanley, the only white Kappa brother in their clique, as he joined the group. “Your wife’s cake is off the hook. What’s her secret, man?”
“She didn’t make this cake. Her assistant Pamela insisted on making the cake as a gift. She did a good job.”
“Pamela, huh? Where is she?” Stanley turned to survey the crowd. “Maybe I’ll marry her.”
“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear it,” Charlie laughed. “Start with baby steps. Try to get a date first.”
“Or try to get a woman to stand still long enough for you to introduce yourself,” Hylan added, laughing. It was a tradition to give the lanky redhead a hard time.
“Ha-ha. Ya’ll gonna get enough messing with me.” Stanley scanned the crowd again. “There’s gotta be someone here I can hook up with. Weddings are the best places for single people to hook up. That and funerals.”
Hylan and Charlie just stared at him.
“What? It’s what I heard.”
“We’re going to pray for you,” Hylan said, rolling his eyes. How Stanley managed to hang with them for fifteen years and still be as square as he was was something short of amazing.
“Whatever.” Stanley moved his lanky frame closer to Charlie. “So now that you’re off the market, what do you say to passing a playa like me your infamous little black book? I’ve heard that it’s a pretty thick book.”
“A playa like you?” Hylan snickered. “If anyone should inherit the Holy Grail from my man here, it should be me.”
“Guys, guys. As much as I’d like to improve your game, I can’t. Gisella and I had a nice farewell ceremony and then tossed the book into the fireplace.”
Hylan and Stanley blinked and then both pointed at him accusingly. “Judas!”
Derrick and Charlie laughed.
“What do a couple of married women have to do to get a dance with their husbands?”
Derrick and Charlie turned toward their smiling wives.
“Not a thing,” Charlie said, taking his wife into his arms. “Of course I’m looking forward to a little private dance,” he whispered as he led her toward the music.
“Oh you’ll get your dance, Mr. Masters. That and a whole lot more.”
“That’s what I’m counting on, Mrs. Masters. That’s what I’m counting on.”
Still smiling, Hylan shook his head. Two of the five Kappa brothers were down for the count. He still couldn’t believe it. Hell, it seems like it was just yesterday when they were all piled into Herman’s Barbershop and giving each other dabs and swearing that a honey would never lock them down. “Playas for life,” they had all vowed.
Now look at them.
Hylan, along with most of the wedding guests, watched the bride and groom glide across the floor to an old Luther Vandross classic. He had to admit that his buddy, Charlie, had certainly snagged himself a beautiful woman. Gisella glowed like an angel as she stared up into her husband’s eyes and Charlie looked…happy. In fact, Hylan had never seen him so happy.
There was a sudden tightening in Hylan’s chest. His throat constricted and his eyes…
A waiter waltzed by and Hylan snatched a flute of champagne from his tray and downed the contents in one long gulp while he tried to shake off whatever the heck that feeling was coming over him. “Maybe it’s just heartburn,” he mumbled as he set the now-empty flute on the next tray that passed by.
“Need an antacid?” Stanley asked, popping out of nowhere and grinning like one of those funny-looking orange Cheshire cats.
Hylan jumped and cocked an arm back. “Man, you’re going to get tired of sneaking up on me like that.”
Stanley laughed. “Don’t blame me. You ought to stop being so damn scary.”
“Ha-ha.” Hylan rolled his eyes.
“So where’s your girl at?”
That was a good question. Hylan’s gaze scanned the perimeter a couple of times and came up empty. “Why is it when women go to the bathroom, they stay in there forever?” he asked.
“Like I would know.” Stanley jammed his hands deep into his pants pockets and rocked on his heels. “So what’s the 4-1-1 with you and Shonda? Y’all together again?”
Hylan shrugged. “We’re just kickin’ it. Why?”
Stanley smirked. “Just asking.”
Hylan stretched the collar of his dress shirt and then grabbed another flute of champagne from yet another tray. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“Of course not.”
After busting out some old school moves with Charlie’s mother, Taariq bowed to the older woman and then made his way over to his two best friends. “Well, it looks like another one bites the dust, fellas. I still can’t believe it.” He swung his gaze over to Hylan. “I gotta tell ya. I thought you’d fall before old Charlie.”
Hylan choked on the rest of his champagne. “Who, me?”
Taariq swatted him on the back. “You all right?”
Once Hylan finally managed to suck enough air into his lungs, he waved Taariq off. “How the hell can you say something like that? It’s like you’re calling me outta my Christian name or something.”
“All right. Don’t be overly dramatic,” Taariq said, shrugging. “It’s just that…you know…you and Shonda hooked up again.”
“And? Just because I’m seeing some chick I used to date a while back you think that’s just cause for me to jump off a cliff?”
“I’ve just never known you to recycle.”
Hylan cut his gaze toward Stanley.
“Me, either,” Stanley said.
“And you brought her to the wedding,” Taariq added.
“So? It’s just a pit stop. We’re flying out to Saint Lucia this afternoon for a little sun and fun. I haven’t had a vacation in I don’t know how long—and I need one.” Which was the truth. Dawson Engineering was still doing well, even in a down economy and was on pace to becoming Atlanta’s largest and most innovative technology provider. Hylan was in an industry where being a workaholic was required.
But the times he carved out to play—he played hard.
Taariq laughed and snapped his fingers in front of Hylan’s face. “C’mon, man. This is basic Playa Handbook 101 stuff here. You never bring a chick to a wedding unless you plan on marrying her. You bring a chick here and they get to seeing a wedding dress and all these pretty flower arrangements, and the next thing you know they’re plotting how they’re going to get you down the aisle.
Hylan started bobbing his head. Taariq was right. What the heck was he thinking? He liked Shonda. They always had a good time together—but making her wifey or wife was definitely not in the cards.
Just then Hylan caught sight of Shonda threading her way through the crowd. The young, budding actress drew her fair share of stares, but it probably had more to do with the fact she was wearing an outfit better suited for a hooker—an extremely short silk mini-dress that left nothing to the imagination.
The men in attendance seemed to like it.
The women…not so much.
Hylan glanced at his watch. “It’s about that time. I’m outta here.” He turned and gave both Stanley and Taariq half hugs and fist bumps.
“What? You’re not going to wait for the garter toss?” Taariq teased.
“Get the hell out of here with that mess, man.” Hylan laughed and then strolled across the pavilion to retrieve his date.
Shonda didn’t see Hylan and was still scanning the crowd and bouncing anxiously on her toes when he eased up behind her and wrapped his arm around her small waist. “Looking for me?”
Shonda jumped and gasped, but as soon as she realized who it was, she relaxed and turned in his arms to face him. “I’ve got great news,” she beamed.
Her excitement was so contagious, Hylan’s smile stretched equally as wide. “All right. Lay it on me.”
“I just received a call from Nick Jones. The Nick Jones,” she said squealing. “He wants me in his latest movie. Can you believe it?”
Actually, he couldn’t. “Well, that’s great. It looks like it’ll be a vacation slash celebration in Saint Lucia this week.” He glanced at his watch again. “Are you about ready to go?”
“Oh, I can’t go,” she said, eyes blinking. “Nick wants me out in L.A. tomorrow.”
“What?”
Shonda looped her arms around Hylan’s neck and pressed her large breasts against his chest while she poked her lips out into a fake pout. “You understand, don’t you? It’s the Nick Jones.”
Hylan’s spirits plummeted with disappointment, but he hid it with a perfect mask of understanding. “Sure. I understand.”
Looks like I’m flying solo on this vacation.
Chapter Four
Hylan loved Saint Lucia.
The minute the plane touched down, he could feel the stress of his job roll off of him in waves. How could it not? Everywhere he looked was a postcard-perfect snapshot—despite the gathering clouds. The Atlantic Ocean kissed the northern shores of the small island while the Caribbean Sea hugged the west coast. The twin coastal peaks soared two-thousand feet from the sea and were blanketed with an emerald-colored rain forest.
From the moment the private jet touched down in the Soufrière quarter, Hylan shut off his BlackBerry and mentally checked out for vacation. Stepping off the plane, he swore that the air smelled fresher, the sun was brighter and life just plain sweeter. “Why don’t I come here more often?” he said under his breath. The answer was truly a mystery. Whenever he was rushing around making deals, he repeatedly told himself that he didn’t have time for a vacation. And whenever he did make time, he always wondered why he didn’t do it more often.
Hylan’s maternal roots ran deep on the island. When he was a child, he remembered spending long summer days diving, snorkeling, sailing, windsurfing, hiking—you name it, he did it. His parents never had a lot of money, but everyone who knew Hylan Sr. and Sabelle Dawson knew that they were rich with love. Hylan had been their miracle child, having been conceived when his mother was in her late forties after nearly two decades of hoping and praying.
As a result, Hylan may have been a little spoiled.
A horn blared.
Hylan looked up to see a green Jeep speeding toward him near the small hangar. The man was going so fast, Hylan wondered if he needed to dive out of the way before being hit. At the last minute, the driver slammed on the brakes and stopped within inches of him.
“Bonjour, Mr. Dawson,” the islander shouted a half a second before he jumped out of the vehicle and swept Hylan into a full-body hug. “Welcome home!”
Hylan’s face contorted in confusion, but he managed to put on something that resembled a smile by the time the man released him. “Gotta tell you, me and the missus were starting to wonder if you were ever coming back. Nikki kept insisting that you were coming and…well…here you are!”
“Here I am,” Hylan said. Who in the hell is this guy? Knowing how small the island was, chances were that he was probably embracing some cousin or family member.
“It was just by chance that I was out here dropping off a couple of tourists who were staying at the Anse Chastanet resort when someone said that you were on this flight. You picked a helluva time to arrive with a storm brewing.”