Читать книгу Love on the Rocks - Pamela Yaye - Страница 11

“Where is she?” Warrick asked, his gaze combing the darkened living room. An hour ago, he’d been greeted by Mrs. Hawthorne, ushered over to the bar and offered a variety of cocktails and appetizers. “Are you sure the woman you saw was Tangela?”

The question must have sounded like a desperate plea and Warrick’s friend, Quinten Harris, dressed as one of Nevada’s finest, gave him a scathing look under his fake cop glasses. “Let it go, dog. You guys are all wrong for each other. You’re like a ticking time bomb. You’re good for a couple of months then—” he threw his hands in the air “—ka-boom!”

Quinten laughed, but Warrick didn’t, saying, “Shut up, no one asked you.”

“Just calling it like I see it. Face it, dude, she’s just not that into you.”

Annoyed, Warrick opened his mouth with a stinging retort, but swallowed it when he felt a delicate hand on his forearm. He cast a glance over his shoulder, and found his date staring up at him. The former debutante wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, but she’d been the Jet Beauty of the Week twice and dazzled in her mermaid costume.

Turning toward his date, he greeted her warmly. “Hi, Alexis. Is everything all right?”

“I see a…an old friend out on the patio. Do you mind if go over and say hello?” she trilled, adjusting her outfit to reveal more flesh. When she popped open a gold compact and cleaned the corners of her mouth with her tongue, he knew her “friend” was a member of the opposite sex. “I won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” he muttered, watching her sail through the French doors. Popular in her own right, Alexis Nyguard exchanged business cards with the men and shared beauty tips with the women. I sure know how to pick them, he thought, when he saw Alexis throw her arms around a swarthy man dressed in a hot-dog costume.

Glad she was gone, he turned back to his friend. “Know anything about Tangela’s date?”

“Name’s Leonard Butkiss. He’s a plumber.”

Warrick chuckled. “You’re yanking my chain.”

“I couldn’t have come up with something that funny if I tried.”

Both men laughed.

“What does this Butkiss guy look like?”

“What does he look like?” Quinten mimicked, shaking his head. Scowling, he reached over and plucked the S embellished on the front of his friend’s costume. “A superhero, my ass. You should have gone with something more feminine like Snow White. You’re too soft to be a superhero.” His harsh, grating chuckle got louder. “Why are you so hell-bent on seeing her, anyway? It’s about the car, isn’t it?”

“No, I’m over that. Besides, Tangela must have been really hard up for money to sell it. She loved her little Sunbeam.” Four months after their breakup, he’d spotted the classic automobile in the classified section of the newspaper. When he’d seen it weeks later on a used-car Web site, he’d actually considered buying it. At five thousand dollars below value, it was a steal. But whenever he looked at the car, he remembered all the times they’d made love in the backseat, and it was hard enough not thinking about her as it was.

“Pull yourself together, man.” Folding his thick lumberjack-like arms across his middle, Quinten scanned the partying crowd. “This desperate, R. Kelly–type vibe you’re giving off ain’t cool. It’s scaring off the honies.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me wanting to see her,” he argued, prepared to defend himself. “We dated for seven years, remember?”

“How can I forget when you keep reminding me?” Quinten snapped. After a beat, he said, “Did you know that fifty-three percent of marriages end in divorce within the first five years? You guys never would have made it that long. You’re both too jealous and hardheaded.”

Warrick blew out a breath of frustration. Why was everyone so dead-set against him seeing Tangela? First his sister and now Quinten. Was he that bad? How come everyone forgot that she’d walked out on him? While he was in New York negotiating the biggest deal of his career, Tangela had packed her stuff, rented a truck and moved out. He’d lost sleep over it, not her. So why was everyone rallying around poor ol’ Tangela?

“Leave the woman alone. She’s moved on and you should, too.”

Anger flared in Warrick’s belly. Running his tongue over his teeth, he lifted his glass of soda to his mouth to keep from decking his friend in the face. Quinten didn’t know jack about women. His longest relationship had lasted as long as a Super Bowl commercial and there were parts of the city he couldn’t drive through for fear of bodily harm. The management consultant had broken hearts in every county from Tule Springs to Charleston and showed no signs of stopping. “Like I’m going to take advice from someone who gets dating tips from Playboy magazine.”

“It’s over. She’s not coming back.” Quinten’s eyes roved appreciatively over a shapely woman in a cocktail bunny costume. “Rejoice, man. Now she’s somebody else’s problem.” Clapping a hand on Warrick’s shoulder, Quinten swiped a champagne flute from a passing waiter’s tray and raised it high in the air. “Congratulations! All your problems are gone!”

Warrick didn’t join in the celebration.

“Stay away from Tangela,” Quinten warned, striding off.

Warrick scanned the darkened room, peering around the tombstones hanging from the ceiling. Avoiding Tangela wasn’t the answer. In fact, he was secretly hoping to run into her. Closure. That’s what he needed. Wandering around, he searched for something to do. Alexis was dancing with an Austin Powers look-alike, Quinten was flirting with a sexy gypsy and couples everywhere held hands, kissed and shared private jokes. The way he and Tangela used to.

Warrick took the elevator to the second floor of the palatial home and knew instinctively that his ex was there. Her Oriental fragrance sweetened the air. Seconds later, he heard her rich, effervescent laugh. Heart pounding, mouth wet with anticipation, he resisted the urge to run full-speed down the hall. Careful not to spill his drink on the carpet, he shouldered his way through the crowd of partygoers. Warrick brushed fake cobwebs away from his face as he ducked into the game room. Standing nonchalantly in the doorway, he surveyed the scene. And there, beside the pool table, was his first love, Tangela Marie Howard.

Coughing, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. His nervous system went berserk and it took several seconds before his heart rate slowed. Tangela had always had that effect on him, but tonight it was a hundred times worse. It wasn’t the stylish haircut, or even her shrunken waistline that stunned him. It was her costume. He hadn’t expected to see her dressed in a leather cat-woman bodysuit that accentuated every luscious slope. Her dark dramatic eyes, visible through the slits in her face mask, and her lush red lips enhanced her staggering sex appeal.

At a statuesque five feet ten inches, Tangela towered over all of the women in the room and more than half of the men. Her costume left nothing to the imagination and made the Pussycat Dolls look like a bunch of Catholic school girls. Once, to spice up things in the bedroom, he’d suggested she dress up in one of those skimpy maid’s uniforms. Not only had Tangela flat-out refused, she’d given him the cold shoulder that night in bed, but now she was boldly flaunting her salacious curves. His ex obviously had a wild streak he knew nothing about, and that made him wonder what else she’d kept hidden from him all those years.

Jealousy reared its ugly head as he watched Tangela cheer on her date. She used to look at him that way. Eyes twinkling, face aglow, lips holding a smile reserved just for him. Seeing Tangela with another man, even a fluffy, out-of-shape plumber, made Warrick burn inside. How had it been so easy for her to start over?

Nine years ago, when he’d met Tangela Howard at Tower Records, it had been love at first sight. A scrawny teenager had crashed into a life-size cutout of Aerosmith and sent hundreds of CDs crashing to the floor. Warrick glanced up, wondering how the kid could have missed the gigantic display. Then he noticed the crooked grins on the faces of the male customers and trailed their covetous gazes. Shoulders bouncing, hips twirling, the tall, voluptuous girl at the back of the store in the skintight jeans grooved as if she was at a hip-hop concert.

Warrick made his move and after a few minutes of polite conversation asked her out. By the end of their first date, the twenty-year-old business administration student had captured his heart. Friends labeled them polar opposites and discouraged them from dating. They had mismatched tastes in music, movies and food, but Tangela understood him better than anyone and supported him wholeheartedly.

In the beginning, she’d praised him for climbing swiftly up the corporate ladder. But soon she was complaining about his crazy schedule. Warrick wanted to spend time with her, but he wasn’t cutting back his hours or delegating more tasks to his team. It was hard enough proving himself. Founded in 1978, Maxim Designs and Architects was one of the leading architectural companies in the world and was widely known for its international landmark structures and commercial projects. The other architects thought he’d been hired because his father owned the company and they didn’t try to hide their contempt. They didn’t care that he worked weekends or stayed at the office until midnight. He was the boss’s son and they resented his success.

Then, Tangela’s mother died and she became short-tempered, clingy and possessive. Calling him on the hour, dropping by his office unannounced, bombarding him with wedding checklists and seating plans. Things got so bad, Warrick moved into the spare bedroom to escape her constant nagging and resorted to picking fights with her just to get out of the house.

As he reflected on their past, Quinten’s words came back to him. She doesn’t want you…she’s moved on and you should, too. As that conversation replayed in his head, he shifted his attention to her date. Leonard Butkiss had a face only a mother could love. Wide eyes, large ears and a slightly crooked nose. Warrick didn’t know anything about the guy, but Tangela deserved to be with someone strong and athletic and rich. Like him.

Giving his head a shake, he turned away from the thought. Then, like a scene out of a romantic movie, their eyes connected from across the room. Seconds passed. Then minutes. Their connection was so intense, so commanding, the fine hairs on the back of his neck shot up. Time stopped and everything he’d ever felt for her came rushing back. Love, desire, passion. His heart burned for her, and he wanted to draw her into his arms. When Tangela abruptly turned away, Warrick realized that Quinten was right. A man of his stature shouldn’t be pining over anyone, not even his first love.

Warrick channeled his gaze. No more ogling Tangela. Or thinking about how utterly captivating she was. There were plenty of good-looking women at the party. Women who’d love to be with someone wealthy. Wasn’t that what every sister wanted? A successful, affluent man who’d shower them with the finer things in life? Determined to have a good time, he chugged the rest of his drink and searched for his date.

Spotting Alexis, who must have come upstairs after he did, at the bar, he grabbed her around the waist. He didn’t have fancy footwork like Chris Brown, but he didn’t let that stop him from moving to the music. They rocked in perfect rhythm and when Warrick saw the curious expression on Tangela’s face, he broke into a knowing grin.

“Is the plumber good in bed?”

Tangela laughed out loud. Being outside on the deck provided privacy, fresh air and a panoramic view of the city. Stars gathered beside the moon and the warm breeze shook the palm trees shielding the expansive estate. “What kind of question is that?”

“The guy’s no hunk, so there must be another reason why you’re dating him,” Rachael continued, adjusting her golden-blond Tina Turner wig. “Well?”

“We’re not sleeping together.”

“It’s the nose hair, isn’t it?”

“I’m taking my time, Rachael. This is only our second date, and like I told you before, I’m keeping my options open.” Staring through the kitchen window, she searched the room for her date. Her gaze fell on Warrick and she sucked in a breath. Her ex was as straitlaced as a brother could be. He had no earrings, no tattoos and the only time he cursed was when his beloved baseball team was losing. Tangela had always been attracted to smart guys and Warrick Carver was a brain. Though he was studious-looking and serious, there was no denying it: the architect pulsed with sexual energy. His biceps filled out the superhero costume nicely and the cape flowing freely around his shoulders drew her attention to his chest.

The man made her mouth water. And despite herself, she felt a rush of excitement when he glanced her way. Images of their last vacation scrolled through her mind. Swimming with the dolphins. Making love in the Jacuzzi. Frolicking on the beach. Tangela shuddered and pushed away the memories. She wouldn’t go there. Not today. Not ever. This wasn’t an episode of The Young and the Restless. This was real life. Her life. And she’d never allow her attraction to Warrick to cloud her judgment again.

Unable to pull her eyes away, she watched him for several moments, all the blood in her head rushing to her core, leaving her nursing an unquenchable longing. Feeling weak, she swayed slightly to the right. Tangela reached out and gripped the table beside her. She had to stop doing that. Yeah, he had a strong, hard body, but that didn’t mean she should faint. Her goal was to find Mr. Right, get married by her thirtieth birthday and relocate to New Orleans. Lusting over her ex-boyfriend wasn’t going to change the facts, and she’d wasted enough time pondering what could have been.

“Are you still seeing the dentist?”

Tangela nodded. “Uh-huh, we’re going rock-climbing this weekend.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were on a mission,” Rachael said, winking.

Laughing, she revisited the conversation they’d had months earlier. One afternoon while shopping at Boulevard Mall, Tangela had confessed that she was on a mission to find a husband. To improve her chances of making a love connection, she’d joined a dating agency and posted an online ad, but after six months, she was no closer to finding Mr. Right than a single woman at a gay pride parade.

“You’re dating so many different guys. Isn’t it hard to keep them all straight?”

“Not really.” Tangela enjoyed meeting new people, but every time she went out with a guy, she couldn’t help comparing him to Warrick. It felt wrong, tainted, cruel, but the more she tried to censor her thoughts, the stronger they were. Her last date had been drinks at a smoky jazz café. Warrick had taken her on a hot-air-balloon ride for their first date. A personal trainer took her hiking May long weekend. Three years earlier, Warrick had whisked her away on a Mediterranean cruise. Most of the guys she’d met through the agency were beer-and-corn-chips type of guys, while Warrick was caviar and Dom Pérignon, and there was just no getting around it. “So,” Tangela began, keeping her tone light. “Warrick’s seeing someone, too.”

“Not that I know of.”

She gestured to the window. “Who’s the girl in the mermaid costume?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve never seen her before.”

Tangela didn’t know why, but she felt a perverse satisfaction knowing Warrick was still single. But any joy she felt dissolved when Warrick caught her staring. And just when Tangela thought things couldn’t get any worse, he ended the conversation he was having with a man in a skeleton costume and made his way toward her.

Glancing around for an escape route, or at the very least, something to hide under, she stepped back and bumped into a potted plant. His cologne floated on the evening breeze, inciting her sexual hunger. Without his designer suit, he could pass for a college student, and his infectious white grin made him irresistible.

Tangela heard her pulse throb in her ears. She’d grieved the loss of their relationship for months and now that she could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, he was back. Literally. Before Tangela could get hold of herself, he was there. Wearing his characteristic smile, smelling delicious, acting as though they didn’t have a long tempestuous past behind them.

“Ladies.” The tension was suffocating, but instead of breaking eye contact with Tangela, he closed the distance between them. It should be a felony to look that good. That hot. That sexy. That erotic. “You guys are definitely going to win the award for best costume.”

“We know!” Rachael quipped, giggling. “Are you having a good time?”

“Of course. Great company. Good food.” He stared at Tangela. “Nice view.”

Then to her surprise, he leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. Under her mask, sweat pooled on her forehead like minuscule worry beads. It felt as if the temperature had soared to a thousand degrees. Expelling a breath, she rubbed a hand across her forehead. She didn’t know if it was the humidity or Warrick’s kiss, but her head was spinning like clothes in a dryer.

“Welcome home.” His voice, clear and steady, was filled with surprising warmth. “Mexico’s obviously been good to you.”

“Yeah, it was great.” Feeling dry-mouthed and sick, Tangela gulped down a mouthful of soda. Anticipating his next question, she cut him off. “I learned Spanish, toured most of the country and made some great friends.”

“Who’s she?” Rachael asked, motioning to Alexis. “Someone you met at work?”

Warrick wanted Rachael to leave and tried to communicate his wishes with his eyes. When his sister didn’t get the hint, he put a hand on her back and guided her to the open patio door. “Davis has been looking all over for you.”

“Really? Is he all right?” Rachael downed the contents of her cocktail glass. “Hubby’s been fighting a migraine all day. I’ll go check on him, then come right back.”

Tangela watched Rachael hustle inside.

“That spread in People magazine was really something. Every man in America will be dreaming about you tonight.” Staring at Tangela, Warrick reflected on their seven-year relationship. Their intense, emotional bond had seen them through the most difficult times and he missed having Tangela to talk to. It still bothered him how things had ended, but he didn’t share his thoughts with her. More than ready to put the past between them, he suggested they sit down on the wicker love seat. “We should catch up. It’s been a while and I’m curious about what you’ve been up to.” He added, “Besides appearing on magazine covers, of course.”

“I should go before my date starts looking for me.”

“What are you doing with him, Tangela? He’s not your type.”

“Exactly.” Defensive, she glared openly at him. “I finally abandoned that silly Hollywood notion of true love and decided to find someone nice.”

“What about love?” Warrick couldn’t believe those words had actually come out of his mouth. Before he could correct himself, Tangela tossed her head back and laughed in his face.

“I forgot how funny you were.” Her tone was sarcastic and her smile was ice-cold. “Like you know anything about love.”

“You sound a little bitter.”

Her hand shook when she lifted her glass to her mouth. “No, I’m just cautious.”

“But don’t you want to be with someone you’re in sync with?”

For a long time she didn’t speak. There’d been a time when they were two minds with a single thought. Scintillating conversation and scorching sexual chemistry had kept their relationship strong for almost a decade, but in the end, that hadn’t been enough to keep them together. “Chemistry’s overrated. I want somebody who’s going to be there when I need him. Someone committed to me and our relationship.”

Warrick winced. Why didn’t she just come right out and call him a jerk? Smirk in place, he recovered quickly, saying, “I guess I’m looking at the next Mrs. Butkiss, then. Congratulations! I wish you nothing but the best.”

Tangela regarded him coldly. She heard the humor in his voice, but resisted playing the role of the bitter ex-girlfriend. He’d love it if she embarrassed herself in front of their friends. It wasn’t going to happen. Doing everything in her power to keep her composure, she made a point of peering over his shoulder in search of a more suitable companion. Her eyes landed on their lively host. “Mr. Hawthorne promised me a dance and I’m going to go cash in.”

“See you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” she mumbled, stepping past him.