Читать книгу Decadent Desire - Zuri Day - Страница 13

Chapter 3

She’d planned to tell no one what happened last night. Especially Paige, because Nicki knew she would worry. But a few days later, while Nicki waited with Paige for the pop star’s car to arrive, the words tumbled out.

“If my neighbor hadn’t come out when she did,” she finished, “I don’t know what might have happened. A part of me wants to believe this was just a scare tactic to see if I could be frightened into sending the cash.”

Paige’s look was doubtful. “And the other part?”

“Really wishes those store cameras could have captured their images so that I’d have concrete evidence of how they harassed me.”

“But their car was on the tape?” Nicki nodded. “Then take that along with a statement from your neighbor and file a police report. You can’t ignore this, Nicki, or wish it away. I hope that night was the end of it, but if not, you’ll want to have everything that happened documented. Do you still have the messages Vince left on your phone?”

“I think so.”

“You need to keep all of that, and if he ever calls again, record it. And you need to tell Julian.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because the more people who are aware of what’s happening, the better any future case might be. And because he’s the man who loves you.”

Joe waved as he pulled the car to the curb.

Nicki waved back and turned to walk away.

Paige called after her, “Where are you going? Joe will take you home.”

“And get used to such lavish star treatment? I’m fine on the subway.”

Paige waved off the comment and walked toward her. “Marry Julian and you’ll have your own driver.” She lowered her voice. “I know your real reason for preferring the train. To get off the subject of telling Julian what’s going on. This business with Vince is out of control. He needs to know about it.”

“I’ll think about it.” Nicki started walking again. Tossed a parting line over her shoulder. “See you mañana.”

She headed to the downtown trains, jumping on the Brooklyn-bound number three. Passing a couple empty seats as the car swayed and wove its way through the underground tunnels, she placed a shoulder against a pole with the practiced ease of a native New Yorker, checking emails and reading texts. One was from Julian. He’d wished her merde, a dancer’s good luck, as he did most nights. Made her think of Paige and the proposal that had happened months before Julian began his internship.

It had been lovely. Lit up on the marquee in the heart of Times Square. He’d gone to one knee, pulled out a telltale blue box and everything. A crowd had gathered, oohed and ahhed. He’d looked so hopeful. But she couldn’t say yes. She’d smiled and hugged him excitedly, making the crowd think she accepted so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. But later on she broke the truth. New York was her soul, Broadway her goal. That’s when he decided they needed a break.

And then Vince happened. She’d heard there’d been no shortage of women vying to claim the spot as Julian’s girlfriend that she’d vacated. A couple of them she knew. Word was he hadn’t dated, had focused on work. Once they got back together, she found out why and felt even worse about her rebound fling. Her rejection had hurt him as deeply as he loved her, a love so strong that when she reached out to him several months later, he took her back, no problem.

The train reached her stop. It was late. Only one other person got off with her. She walked to the stairs and climbed up them, trying to ignore the fearful thought that the duo she’d started calling Bert and Ernie might be waiting for her. Time for a diversion. It was either that or a panic attack. Pulling out her phone, she called Julian. Contrary to Paige’s advice, she would not tell him about what was going on. Julian didn’t know about that ill-fated tryst. She intended to keep it that way.

“Hey, babe. Thanks for the encouraging text. Didn’t read it until after, but the show was—” Nicki drew in a sharp breath as she watched a dark-colored sedan race toward her. Instinct took over. She ran against the light, chancing a look back as she crossed the street. Caught the first two letters on the license plate as the car zoomed through the intersection and continued on its way. Not after her. Just in a hurry. She remembered the license number Miss Frances had given her. The one she’d just seen wasn’t it.

She eased out of the storefront entryway, feeling silly. Paranoid much? She felt someone’s gaze and looked up to see an old man watching her intently. Could only imagine how she must have looked, running when no one was chasing her. Hiding from someone that he couldn’t see. She looked down and realized the call to Julian was still live. God, no. Had she made a sound? Nicki quickly pushed the end button, praying that somehow in the frenzy a message that would sound weird at best, maybe even frightening, wouldn’t go through. Minutes later a text came through. Her prayer had not been answered.

Babe, what’s going on? Where are you?

She continued the short distance to her house, formulating an answer on the way. Just inside her home, she dropped her bag and texted back.

Sorry about that. Just wanted to beat the light, that’s all.

Nicki continued up the stairs to her bedroom, hoping the casual answer would suffice. After several minutes had passed, she thought it had. She took a shower, washed her hair and slipped into a pair of comfy cotton pj’s. Grabbing her phone, she continued downstairs for a cup of chamomile. Julian had called. Left a message and a text. Not only did he not buy her lie, he told her he’d see her on opening night, in person, to find out the truth. Damn, damn, damn!

* * *

One week after that text exchange and ten minutes before curtain, the Drake entourage entered the theater and were ushered to the third row in the orchestra’s center section. They’d flown in for opening night on a company plane. A limo service met them at the private airstrip, with premium champagne and appetizers for the thirty-minute ride into the theater district. The men debonair, the women beautiful, they commanded the attention of the entire audience. Julian took the center seat. To his right was his oldest brother, Ike Jr., with his wife, Quinn. No question whose decision it was to accept his invitation. Ike, ten years older than his pretty wife, detested hip-hop or any similar sounding music. Or he had, until Quinn came into the picture. Of all Julian’s brothers, Ike’s temperament most closely matched his own. That the conservative executive who almost slept in a business suit tonight sported a matching shirt and slacks set from their fashion designer brother-in-law Ace Montgomery’s collection was proof of how Quinn had relaxed him.

Julian loved observing the laid-back Ike, almost as much as the fact that California’s next senator sat on his other side. After serving as mayor of Paradise Cove for several years, another brother, Niko, two years younger than Ike, was on a tireless campaign to represent the Golden State in the next election. He and attorney wife Monique crisscrossed the state tirelessly, so much so that the family staged a mock intervention to force a weekend of rest. The bribe? Tickets to Nicki’s sold-out show. A Monday morning meeting with a political think tank had been thrown in also, but Julian chose not to focus on that. His brother was here, relaxed, laughing with Terrell, Julian’s next oldest brother, in town with his wife, Aliyah. All in attendance to support his girl.

Their gesture was much appreciated. For almost a decade, his focus had been on getting his PsyD and completing his internship. Everything else had taken a back seat, including Nicki and his family. He blamed that fact on why Nicki turned down his marriage proposal. As for the people around him who shared his name? He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed them until just now.

He nudged Ike. “Ready to get the party started?”

“What I’d start would more likely be a mass exit.”

“Honey!” Quinn smacked his forearm. “That didn’t sound very supportive.”

“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, with a pair of earplugs in your pocket.”

Julian leaned forward toward Quinn. “You’re kidding, right?” She shook her head. “Bro, really?”

“Guilty as charged.”

Julian and Quinn shared a sigh of exasperation. She watched him idly tapping the chair arm with his fingers. “Nervous?”

“Excited.”

“When’s the last time you saw her perform?”

New Orleans, Julian thought with a smile, remembering their secret family reunion getaway. “It’s been a while.”

“London’s going to hate that she missed it.”

Niko’s wife, Monique, sat next to Quinn. “All London is thinking about is fashion week. She and Ace are busy tightening up next week’s show-stopping finale.”

Julian’s youngest sister, London, was a superstar model, her husband, Ace, a model turned fashion mogul.

“Fashion week is impressive,” Quinn said, her eyes sparkling as she eyed the stage. “But this is Broadway.”

As if on cue, the lights dimmed.

The stage went completely black. A single drumbeat burst out of the darkness. Boom cha. Boom cha. Then several more percussion instruments along with a sequencer delivering an old-school scratch over syncopated beats, building with every note. Lights, like stars, began to flicker everywhere. On stage and off.

A group of dancers appeared, Nicki among them, lithe, graceful, beautiful, twirling and gyrating and skipping across the stage. Julian watched. Focused. Entranced. Her body seemed a mass of barely contained energy mixed with soulful joy and childlike timidity, personifying the young character she portrayed. A bodysuit clung to her like a second skin, the crystals covering it catching the light, mixing with the twinkling orbs around her that made her a star as well. His heart swelled with pride and, but for strong discipline, another body part would have also grown in size. She was beautiful and talented, amazing and perfect. And she was his girl.

The dance ended. For a second no one moved, then as one, the theater erupted in a round of earsplitting applause mixed with whistles and yells. The second song in the act began, a solo by Rapunzel, and ninety minutes later the audience had to catch their breaths from the wild, exhilarating ride on which they’d been taken. Shortly after the show ended, an assistant came to escort the Drake family backstage.

Behind the door was a crush of sponsors, reporters, actors and their family members, all vying for space in the close, humid quarters. Julian spotted Nicki across the room. She posed with the actor who’d played Rapunzel. Camera flashes temporarily brightened their drab surroundings. A dozen conversations happened at once, a din that made talking at length impossible. He motioned for the others to follow him. Nicki saw his gesture. She whispered to Rapunzel, who looked their way and joined Nicki as she walked over.

Nicki hugged Julian before turning to Paige. “You remember Julian.”

“Of course. Hey, handsome!”

“Hey, Paige. Excellent show.” They shared a brief hug and air-kisses.

“And this is part of the Drake family.”

“My pleasure to meet everybody.” Paige smiled as she took in the beautiful tableau. “I’ve heard so much about all of you.”

“All good, I hope,” Niko said.

“No, she told me the truth.”

Amid the laughter, Nicki introduced Paige to the rest of the family before leading the way through a narrow, dimly lit hallway to the door with a star that bore her name. Once inside, Julian allowed the others to offer their congrats before once again pulling Nicki into his arms. “You were amazing, baby.”

“You liked it?”

“I loved it.”

She pulled away to look at him. “Thanks for the flowers and the champagne. They’re wonderful.”

“So are you.”

Niko stepped up to the couple. “I hate to break up this lovefest, but it’s hot as heck in this shoe box. A star like you can’t command a larger dressing room?”

“This is a larger one,” Nicki deadpanned. “And I’m not a star yet, but thank you. Now get out of here. Give me a few minutes to change, and I’ll meet you by the side exit. Except you,” she finished, reaching for Julian’s hand as the others exited. “You can help me undress.”

“I haven’t seen you in a month, girl,” Julian whispered, running a hand down her back and cupping her butt. “Seeing all that loveliness and not getting a taste will be a pretty tall order.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. Gave him a peck on the lips. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

He kissed her back, deepened it with a swipe of his tongue to part her lips as he reached behind her and undid her zipper. Her last costume, a long, frilly number of sequins and lace, fell to the floor as Julian ran his hands along her torso, searching for and finding pert nipples ready to tweak. He lowered his mouth and pulled one in between his teeth, walked them toward the dressing table.

“Julian!”

“Just a little bit...”

He lifted her with the finesse of a dancing partner, set her on the table and positioned himself between her legs. The belt buckle was unfastened. Pants came unzipped. He reached for his ever-hardening shaft, rubbed the tip along her leg as he eased it toward her quivering folds and...

Knock! “Nicki? You in there?”

“Don’t answer it,” Julian whispered.

“It’s not locked.” Nicki shimmied off the table and reached for her robe. “Yeah, I’m in here.” She cracked the door.

An assistant peeked her head in. “A reporter from Variety is here for you. A bunch of fans, too.”

“Out in five minutes.”

Shortly afterward, Nicki emerged from the dressing room looking fresh and effervescent, as though she’d emerged from a nap, not just performed a nonstop, high-energy show. Hair pulled into a topknot, face nearly devoid of makeup and eyes glowing, she wore a long, loose maxi with bold geometric prints, clunky jewelry and sandals. One could have easily mistaken her for a model instead of a dancer, and many had. Julian walked beside her, a strong but quiet presence amid the crowd.

“Nicki! Nicki!” Fans and the press clamored for her attention. She spent a moment with the reporters, then walked over to where dozens of fans held out programs and other memorabilia for her to sign. While she posed for a couple selfies, Julian texted Niko and requested the limo be brought around to the side entrance. When he turned back, she was rushing toward him.

“Let’s go,” she muttered, not stopping. “Where’s the car?”

Julian quickly spotted Niko standing beside a white stretch limo and waving. He reached for her hand. “Come on.”

He helped her into the limo. She fell back against the seat, clearly relieved.

“Looks like they didn’t want to let you go back there,” Niko teased.

“Yeah.” Nicki glanced out the window, then turned to Julian. “Where are we eating? I’m starved.”

“I’ve handled that,” Terrell said. “Driver, we’re ready.”

The limo pulled away from the curb. Julian put an arm around Nicki. “What was that about?”

“What?”

“You left as though you were running away from someone.”

Quinn overheard him. “What, someone freaked her out?”

All other conversation halted. Eyes turned toward her. “Julian is overexamining my hasty exit. I was simply ready to go.”

He leaned over and spoke softly in her ear. “Ready to go, or trying to beat another light?”

She laughed off the remark, and in the familiar surroundings of New York City interacted more confidently with Julian’s powerful family. She regaled them with stories of life in the city that never slept, including some memorable college moments with Julian before she’d dropped out to pursue dancing. Anyone looking on would see a beautiful, carefree woman out on the town. But Julian wasn’t fooled. He was not only a doctor of behavioral study who’d graduated with honors, but a highly observant man who’d seen every side of Nicki. Something was going on with her. Something she obviously didn’t want to share. They were in the city to celebrate her opening night, so he wouldn’t push. But he wouldn’t forget, either. It looked like he now had two problems—how to get Nicki to leave New York and move to California, and how to find out what was behind the urgency in his gut that made him want to hasten that move.