Black Butterfly (13 page)

“Don’t go there. That happened when I first arrived in New York, and I swear, Ricky, if you throw it up in my face one more time––”

Ricky looked down. “Damn, baby girl, don’t you understand? I care for you, ever since the first time you walked into the club. I know you have the potential to be a star, and I want that for you. But men like Mendoza come in different packages. I just don’t want you to lose what makes you so special, love.” Sydney sighed, “I’m not special, Ricky! I’m just like everybody else. You treat me like I’m some porcelain doll.”

“What the hell is wrong with that? You’re my lady.”

“I’m not!” she said, hitting her hand on the top of the table. A few patrons turned to look back. Sydney bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m not in love with you.”

She said the words she’d been holding back from him as well as herself, and finally felt relief. But when she looked up into his eyes and saw how she’d hurt him, she felt like a fool. Ricky was genuine, and here she was chasing a dream while fantasizing over a date with a guy way out of her league. Her father said she was foolish hearted. It was what he predicted would be her downfall. He’d called her a dreamer, and now she had to wonder if pushing Ricky away proved him right.

“It’s ok, baby girl. That’s no mystery to me.”

“I do care about you, Ricky, you know I do.”

“Come here.” Ricky pulled her closer as if to inhale the combined smell of soap and bacon on her skin.

She looked up into his face and he kissed her. It was a soft kiss of surrender. She felt as if he was releasing her, in his way, enough to give her space. Finally breaking from the kiss, she teared up.

“Trust me. I’m a big girl. Just give me a little space, ok? Let me work things out my way. I’ll be fine.”

“If I do this and I support you, can I get another shot?”

“I don’t know what I want, Ricky. You’re right about that. I just need a little time to do things my way.”

“Home is in my arms, love. You’ll see that soon.” He kissed her forehead and slid out of the booth, extending his hand to help her out. “Come to the club tomorrow night. We’ve got open mic, and I’d love to hear you sing. Maybe we can do a set together, or is that off limits?”

“Sounds cool. I’ll come.” Sydney gave him one last hug. When they parted she watched as he walked away. A mixture of relief and regret cooled the blood in her veins. Ricky was a great guy, just not her guy. She wasn’t even sure that she knew who she was. More importantly, she just wanted a chance to just be.

“Lies! They’re all lies!” Harris seethed.

Nolen quirked his brow and met the councilman’s accusing eyes with an icy glare of his own. “Really?”

“This is something you set up! This isn’t me!”

“The camera doesn’t lie. And neither does Serena, I’m told.”

“You won’t get away with blackmailing me! You have just as much to lose! Or do you want the SEC to find out about insider information you’ve offered us on Delstar?” The tension in Nolen’s jaw betrayed his attempts to remain calm. “You give me my vote, or I’ll roll the dice and have this on the five o’clock news.”

A knock at the door broke the silent standoff. Harris stiffened as the president of Hollister, Tucker Gillian, entered. Both men rose. “Mr. Adams, I was told you were here,” Tucker said, he stepped close and extended his hand.

Nolen shook it. “How are you, Tucker?”

“Fine. Everyone’s anxious to hear your proposal.” He looked over to Harris, puzzled over the closed-door meeting.

Harris walked around his desk. The folder of incriminating pictures lay open and he reached over to close it with a quick toss of his hand. “Tucker, we were just tying up some things. Adams and I will join you now. Has the board convened?”

“In a moment, it’s why I came to check in on you.” Tucker eyes cut between the men with a critical stare.

“Let’s get to business, I’m short on time this morning.” He gave a nod to Nolen before he left.

Harris immediately turned toward Nolen. In a hushed desperate tone, he said, “It’s out of my hands.

Your proposal is with the others. They will meet and vote. You’re being completely unreasonable by showing up here thinking you could bully me into giving you your way. Tucker thinks you’re too young and arrogant. He’s not completely sold on taking Hollister public.”

Nolen’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. “Not my problem.”

“You asshole!” Harris grabbed Nolen’s arm. Nolen looked down at Harris’ hand and then back to his eyes. “You expect me to get in bed with you, for what? Nothing? My life and freedom are on the line if anyone found out I sold my vote. I want something out of the deal for myself.” Nolen snatched his arm free. “If you want to keep your position as C.O.O. of one of the largest Textile companies in the world, and that pretty wife and three kids, you’ll vote my way. And yes, you will be compensated.”

“How much? A large transaction between us would be easily detected. It’s professional suicide for us both. We need to be careful.” Harris tried again to prevent Nolen from exiting by blocking the doorway.

Annemarie watched from the shadows, further adding to the tension. Nolen could smell the desperation emanating off Harris and it only added to Nolen’s indifference.

“Annemarie,” Nolen said, and she stepped forward. She stopped before him and gave him a slight nod, as if to introduce herself. From the look in Harris’s eyes, it was as if he’d just realized Annemarie was there.

“Mr. Harris, we have three accounts that you can withdraw money from,” she said, removing an envelope and extending it to him. “If you work through the contact provided in the dossier, the transfer will be discreet to a new account we can provide for you. Of course, Mr. Adams will compensate for the exchange rate fees.” Sydney lifted her head to and spotted Trish in the doorway, watching. “Something on your mind?” she asked, returning her eyes to the mirror to apply her lip-gloss.

“You told Ricky about this?”

“He’s one of my closest friends.”

“He’s your boyfriend!” Trish said, aghast.

“No, Trish, sweetie, he’s not my boyfriend,” Sydney said and laughed.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Sydney stared at her friend, who hadn’t entertained a man since they met. “When are you going to date?” Trish waved her off and turned to leave. “I have too much work to do.” Coming out of the bathroom behind her, Sydney frowned. “Painting is all you do. You need to get out.”

“What am I going to tell Portia when she gets in and asks where you are?” Sydney put on two pairs of socks and then slipped on her boots. “I don’t care what you tell her. She’s not my mother, Trish. Good grief!”

“She’s really stressing now, Sydney. That incident shook her up. Her agent called with an interview, and Portia told her she couldn’t work. Since when does Portia refuse a photo shoot?” Sydney sighed. “Yeah, I know, but it’ll blow over.”

“I hope so.” Trish looked up as someone knocked on the door. “I’ll get it.” Sydney pulled her cable-knit skullcap over her head and pushed her long mane behind her shoulders.

She wore no makeup except frosted bronze lip-gloss and eyeliner.

“Sydney, it’s your ride!” Trish called.

Sydney grabbed her thick jacket and went to the door.

“Ms. Allen?” the driver asked.

“Let me tell you where we’re going tonight,” she said, following him out. She gave him their final destination as they made their way out into the cool night. The limo door opened, and Nolen slid over so that she could climb in. Sydney was amused by the contrast between her puffy jacket and jeans and his business suit.

“Well, hello to you too,” Nolen said.

“Hello, Mr. Adams,” she said as she pulled off her gloves.

Nolen watched her unzip the monstrous jacket and shrug it off. “Now I’m really curious as to where we’re going,” he said, looking her over for an explanation.

“Did you bring the socks?”

He shook his head and she narrowed her eyes. “Figured your stiff butt wouldn’t, so I brought you a pair of mine,” she said, pulling the socks out of her bag and waving them in his face.

“I don’t think I can fit them.” He wrinkled his nose.

“You better hope you can,” she teased.

“Ok, enough with the games. Where are we going?”

“You’re a very impatient man.”

Nolen fixed his eyes on her and gave a half smirk. “I think I’ve had the patience of a Buddhist monk when it comes to you.”

“Really? Just because you didn’t get your way, you think that makes you humble?”

“I take it you don’t.”

“Nope. It makes you persistent, but not patient.”

Nolen nodded. “Let’s change the subject. How was your day?”

“My day was good. Had to work and all, but I got some good tips.” She relaxed and looked out the window. Sensing his eyes on her, she cut her eyes back at him. “And your day?”

“Just business as usual,” he said in that silky voice that warmed her.

“You like what you do?”

“I don’t dislike it.”

“Interesting answer.”

“How about you?” he asked.

“I do.”

“You like waiting tables?”

“Is that so horrible?” she asked, drawing back.

“No, it’s just that I figured it was something you did to get by.” She smiled. “There are lots of things you can do to get by. I chose something where I could interact with people. I’ve met some interesting customers. Besides, today was my last day.”

“So when you become the darling of Broadway, will you still wait tables for kicks?” Sydney laughed. “Cute.”

Nolen looked out the window when the limo turned into Central Park. “Please don’t tell me we’re going where I think we’re going,” he said with dread.

Sydney leaned over him to look out his window. Her breast brushed against his arm, and he looked her squarely in the face as she grinned out at the park. When her eyes shifted to his face, which was now so close she felt his breath on her cheek, she quickly moved away, blushing. “Yes, we are! Skating at Wollman Rink. What do you think, Mr. CEO? Can you hang?”

“No. I don’t skate.”

“You said I could choose the date, and this is my choice. Of course you can always take me home.”

“Can I come upstairs with you?”

Laughing, she shook her head. “That would be a no!”

He looked back out the window. “How about a helicopter ride over Central Park?”

“No.”

“Dinner at the Waldorf?”

“No!”

“A private screening in my theater of that new Tom Cruise movie. It hasn’t been released yet.” Sydney folded her arms. “I want to go skating.”

Nolen smiled slowly and moved closer to her. She backed into the corner of the seat at his approach, lowering her arms. Bringing his face close to hers, he looked into her eyes. “And I plan to be in the business of giving you what you want, so skating it is.”

“Thank you, I guess,” she said as the driver opened Nolen’s door. “Umm . . . I think we need to get out now.”

He pulled back and relief washed over her. She enjoyed his close contact too much. Nolen climbed out of the car, then helped her out. A night chill greeted them. He closed his trench coat and Sydney slipped on her jacket, zipping it up. Leaving her bag inside the car, she handed him the pair of socks. He looked at them, frowning. Pulling up his pant leg, he showed her the black silk ones he wore. “These should do.”

“Have you ever ice skated before?” she asked, slipping the socks into her jacket pocket.

“No, but I’m good at everything I do,” he said with a confidence she found sexy.

She shook her head, and slipped her hand into his to his obvious surprise. “Let’s put that to the test,” she said, pulling him along. Walking through the park holding his hand, she exhaled a long sigh of contentment.

Central Park was the only place in New York that felt like home to her.

“I take it you do this often?” Nolen asked.

“My friends and I do it every now and then. They don’t like the cold much, but skating is my favorite thing to do in this city, ever since I was younger and Portia’s mother would bring us both to the rink on the few short visits I made. Her mother and my mother were best friends. They grew up together back home. When Portia’s dad and mom split up, she and her mom moved here. We couldn’t ice skate in South Carolina. My father thought it was a waste of time.”

“I agree with him,” Nolen mumbled, but Sydney didn’t hear him.

Sydney let go of his hand, realizing how comfortable she was becoming. Sticking her hands in her pockets, she peeked over at him. He appeared to be deep in thought. “Something wrong?” she asked.

“Not anymore,” he said, giving her a conspiratorial wink. His ability to remain hidden behind his charm was disappointing. She secretly hoped that at some time during the night he’d let down his guard and show her something real. Right now everything about him still felt guarded and controlled. It was a turn-on and a turn-off all at the same time.

The rental booth appeared ahead and she quickened her step, causing him to fall behind. She gave her shoe size and then shot him a look.

“Fourteen,” he said.

Sydney smiled, recalling what Portia always said about a man’s shoe size. Nolen gave the woman two twenties for their skates and accepted the change. Sydney snatched up her pair, wishing she’d brought her own.

She looked over to see her date holding his large skates by the dirty shoestring that tied them together.

“People have worn these?” he asked.

Sydney laughed. “Of course they have, which is one reason you need two pairs of socks,” she said, rolling her eyes. She walked away, and then spun around to face him, stepping backward. “Care to place a wager on this?” she asked.

Nolen narrowed his eyes. “Now you’re crossing into dangerous territory, butterfly.” Sydney chuckled. “I’m a big girl. Besides, my money says you won’t stay on your feet for five minutes!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

“And if I do?”

“Then you pick where we go next.” She sat down and proceeded to remove her boots.

Nolen raised the skates to his face and frowned. “What the hell?” Giving in, he dropped down next to her, untying the strings to his skates as he watched her put hers on and lace up.