Читать книгу Pleasure In His Kiss - Pamela Yaye - Страница 14

Chapter 5

“Girl, you’re lucky I love you, or I’d steal your rich, fine-ass fiancé right from under your nose!”

The bridesmaids cackled at the matron of honor’s outrageous joke, laughing as if they were watching a comedy special on the flat screen TV, and the bride rolled her eyes to the ceiling. The Royal Suite at the Four Seasons New York was so loud and noisy, Karma could feel a headache forming in her temples and took a deep breath to stop the room from spinning.

Scared her knees were going to buckle, Karma leaned against the padded armchair the bride was sitting on. For the past three hours, she’d been doing hair and makeup for the Tolbert-Lefevre bridal party—and discreetly blogging about it on her iPhone when no one was looking—and Karma was so tired all she could think about was taking a nap.

Her thoughts returned to that morning. The bride had called her in a panic at 6 a.m. because her long-time stylist had fallen ill and couldn’t do her hair and makeup for her wedding. Torn over what to do, Karma had weighed the pros and cons of going to Manhattan. She’d wanted to help the White House deputy assistant, but she’d planned to spend her birthday weekend partying with Jazz in the city. But when the bride agreed to triple her fee, and pay for two nights’ accommodations at the Four Seasons New York, Karma had accepted the job. Karma felt guilty for changing her plans with Jazz at the last minute, but she’d be a fool to turn down the high-paying gig. It had taken some convincing, but Jazz had agreed to meet her at the hotel after the reception, and Karma was looking forward to hanging out with her bestie tonight.

The gold wedding invitation card, propped up on the fireplace mantel, caught Karma’s eye. Everyone who mattered in the world of business, politics, entertainment and sports would be at the Tolbert-Lefevre wedding, and Karma was hoping to find some new clients. The Hamptons’ upper crust was starting to notice her, and it felt good. More than anything, she wanted Beauty by Karma to be a household name. That was the only way to honor her mother’s legacy. Her mom’s words played in her mind as Karma remembered happier times. You’re smart, and strong, and capable, hermosa, and you can do anything you put your mind to. You’re destined for great things, so walk boldly into your destiny—

“It’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for,” shrieked a pencil-thin bridesmaid, throwing open the suite door. “Breakfast is here, ladies, so eat now or forever hold your peace!”

Giggles and cheers filled the air as the bridal party swarmed the lanky waiter and his cart.

“I’m too nervous to eat,” Antoinette confessed with a sheepish smile. “Last night at the rehearsal dinner, Winston fed me so much caviar and beignets I’m still full...”

Karma tucked her foundation brush in her vinyl makeup tool belt and picked up her water bottle. Taking a sip, her gaze wandered around the room. Bridesmaids were eating gooey pastries, snapping selfies and singing along to the R & B song playing on the Bose stereo system. The lavish suite occupied the top floor of the five-star hotel, and had all the amenities a guest would want. Eye-catching contemporary art, a champagne-filled minibar and a butler’s kitchen worthy of a celebrity chef. Ornate chandeliers hung from twenty-six-foot ceilings, and the windows offered panoramic views of the city skyline.

Determined to finish strong, Karma took a deep breath and got back to work. Blocking out the noise in the suite, she cupped the bride’s chin in her hand, and added waterproof mascara to her eyes. Karma had never dreamed of getting married, or being a wife, but she envied the forty-year-old bride from Long Island. Antoinette was living the American dream; she had a fantastic career, a supportive family and a doting fiancé. Karma had never been madly in love, or swept off her feet, and listening to Antoinette gush about her fiancé made Karma wish she had a soul mate too. Someone who would accept her in spite of her past.

For some strange reason, an image of Morrison flashed in her mind. At the thought of him, her mouth dried and her nipples hardened underneath her purple, silk shirtdress. Karma wondered how Judge Hottie was spending his weekend. Or rather, who he was spending it with. Since their run-in last Saturday at her shop she’d bumped into him twice. Once at the grocery store, and yesterday at the bank. She’d wanted to approach him, had even rehearsed what she’d say when they came face-to-face, but by the time Karma finished with the teller Morrison was gone. Not that it mattered. He thought he was better than her, so why waste her time flirting with him?

Karma added bronze blush to the bride’s cheeks, concentrating intently on what she was doing so she wouldn’t mess up, but Morrison consumed her thoughts. They were from two different worlds, and even though she was a successful businesswoman worth millions, she’d never be on his level. He had status and prestige, and she was a lowly stylist from Brooklyn; they didn’t belong together, and Karma had a better chance of winning Survivor than hooking up with him. Still, she lusted after him. She’d thought she was doing a good job hiding her true feelings, but when Reagan stopped by the shop yesterday after school she’d said, I’m glad you like my uncle, Ms. Karma. You’re perfect for him.

Karma shuddered at the memory. Mortified that her clients had overheard Reagan, she’d dragged the teen aside and set her straight, assured her that there was nothing going on between them. Though, deep down, Karma wished there was. She wasn’t looking for love, and didn’t want to get married or have children, but she was attracted to Morrison and couldn’t stop thinking about him. Thanks to Reagan, she’d learned some interesting facts about Morrison. He spoke Spanish fluently, loved fishing and horror flicks, and most shocking of all, he was an avid traveler who had been to more than fifty countries.