Black Butterfly (18 page)

Sydney checked her watch. “I think we should be going. Our roommate’s probably back, and tonight we’re going to open mic night at Nirvana.”

“You want to leave? I thought we could all go out for lunch after that workout,” Nolen said.

Trish looked at Nolen and interjected. “Thanks, but I think we should leave now.”

“Can I talk to you for a moment over here?” Todd asked, touching Trish’s hand. She moved it from his reach, but nodded, then followed him to the other side of the penthouse.

Nolen moved closer to Sydney, studying her face. “Why are you leaving? The truth?”

“I start my first day tomorrow, and—”

“The truth, please.”

“I just think that it’s best if we keep this on a friendly level. To be honest, Ms. Minetti’s ballet means a lot to me, and I don’t want to jeopardize that. You’re involved with her.”

“I see, you said differently last night.”

She looked away. “I can’t deny I’m attracted to you. I say no, it means yes, it’s getting out of hand. I’m just not comfortable feeling anything for you when we barely know each other. Especially after that kiss we shared.” He tilted her chin up so that he could look into her eyes. “How do we get to know each other if every time I get close, you run away?”

“I never run.”

“Ok, shove me away.”

“You don’t know what you want, Nolen Adams. I think you like the chase. Even if I were looking for a guy, which I’m not, I’d want one I could give myself to. You know the kind of man’s attention that doesn’t fizzle out with his erection.” She smirked and he smiled too.

“Fair enough. You deserve a long lasting erection, and much more.”

“How poetic.” Sydney said. “Are you the man for the job, for the something more I mean?”

“To be honest, I wish I were.”

“I can’t trust you, can I?” she asked softly,

“I must admit, Sydney, you’ve inspired me to want to be trusted. But I’m not really good at being that guy.”

Touching his face, she marveled at how young he was with so much success. She sensed there was a fascinating story behind what made Nolen Adams the man he was today. Her eyes lowered to his lips and the tiny hairs that collectively made up his thin mustache. His lips were the best part of his face, but she resisted the urge to run her tongue across them. “I do see you, Nolen. That’s the man I want to know, not the mogul you show the world.”

Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her to him. “If I show you that man, you may find he’s not what you think. There’s no guarantee that he’ll be enough for you because this cool exterior is a part of me too.

Even a man who has slept with as many women as I have deserves a chance at happiness, Sydney. Let’s just figure it out as we go along.”

Pushing free of his hold, she shook her head. “I must be crazy,” she chuckled.

“Crazy?”

“Here is one of the richest men in the city making a play for me, and I think I’m the last woman standing who wants to walk on principle.”

“That’s what makes you so sexy.”

Sadness swelled in Sydney’s chest. He was giving her a line. She had hoped they were past this. “I’m sorry, but from where I stand I have more to lose than you.” Sydney stepped back and caught the disappointment in his eyes. He seemed to be battling whatever was keeping him from revealing his true self to her.

He grabbed her hand once more, preventing her from moving farther away. “The next time I hold you, damn it, I’m not letting you walk away.”

The conviction behind those words burned through his touch.

“You ready?” Trish asked. She returned from the foyer.

Still holding Nolen’s hand and caught by the magnetism of his eyes, Sydney couldn’t respond. Part of her was enchanted by the mystery that surrounded him, wanting for once to throw caution to the wind and experience everything that he wanted to do with her. Slowly, she nodded, resisting him again.

“Let me have my driver take you girls back,” he said. He refused to release her.

“No, thanks. We’d rather take the train,” Sydney answered.

Her fingers slipped from his and she retrieved her jacket, avoiding his eyes.

Trish walked up to him and extended her hand. “I had a great time. It was nice meeting you again.” Nolen smiled at her. “Thanks, Trish. I’d still like to see that art sometime.” Trish looked over at Todd, and they exchanged a meaningful nod.

Sydney handed Trish her jacket and headed for the door.

“Sydney,” Nolen called out after her.

“Yes?”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Nolen.”

“She playing hard to get?” Todd asked.

“Not everyone plays games, Todd.”

He walked off with Todd on his heels. “Wait! I didn’t mean it that way.” Nolen headed straight to the bar and poured a drink.

“I mean, she’s not like the others, right? She and Trish, they seem a little too perfect to be true. What’s up with that?”

Nolen drank the whiskey, he didn’t bother to answer. He was disappointed that Todd took that as an invitation to sit down in his favorite chair. “Her friend is really special,” Todd said.

Nolen looked over his whiskey glass at Todd. “Special?”

“You saw her, man. There’s no pretense. She’s just who she is.”

“She’s young,” Nolen said dismissively.

Todd cut his eyes. Nolen always teased him about liking them young. How ironic that Nolen now found himself in the same position. “So that’s the hot tamale you’re prepared to turn in your bachelor card for?”

“I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. I see the way you look at her. I hear the way that you speak to her. It’s me, man.

Name another woman, other than Marilynn, that you—”

Nolen turned and gave his friend of countless years a murderous look. “Don’t push me, Todd! Don’t fucking throw Marilynn in my face!”

Todd looked mildly amused. He hadn’t seen an angry reaction about Marilynn in several years. “Hey, man, fuck it. I’m sorry.”

“If you mention her name again, I’ll crack the other side of your head.” Nolen seethed, and then stormed out, leaving Todd alone and perplexed.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Portia demanded as Trish and Sydney came in together, bubbly with laughter. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”

Trish flashed a smile. “Hello to you, too, Portia.”

Portia rose from the sofa with her arms folded, she glared at them. “Did you go shopping without me?” She pouted.

“No, girl. We just got something to eat. I didn’t know you would be back so soon,” Sydney said.

“Well it was pretty easy to choose a photo . . . when you’re working with perfection.”

“Sydney told me, Portia. I’m so happy for you. We all have to celebrate because I finally got a paying gig too.” Trish said.

Portia cocked her head to the side with a curious squint. “You did? With who?”

“This rich photographer who wants me to paint him.”

“It looks like good luck comes in threes!” Sydney added, pulling off her jacket. “Let’s skip Soho today and just wear what we’ve got. My body’s sore.”

“Why are you sore?”

She shrugged. “Too long a walk home. Just tired is all.”

Trish plopped down on the sofa and turned on the TV. Portia sat next to her, telling her all the things she would have to do at the go-see. Sydney left the room and lay across her bed. She closed her eyes, and replayed their kisses. She could feel his hands again, and smell his sweat mixed with cologne. She may have told the man no, but she was not prepared to let go of the fantasy. Not just yet.

Nolen’s limo pulled up to the curb. Sydney mentioned the club in passing, but he’d caught the name. He spent the rest of the day resisting the urge to call her, and when it became too strong, he gave in. Looking through the tinted window, he stared at the line in front of the little club. He lowered the partition. “I won’t be long. Park somewhere discreet.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nolen stepped out of the limo. He looked out of place in the midst of all the casually dressed partygoers.

He walked past them all to the front of the line.

“Get your ass in line, pal!” the bouncer snapped.

Nolen slipped the three-hundred pound bouncer five crisp hundred dollar bills. The man accepted them with a nod, then eased them into his pocket. He unhooked the purple velvet rope and Nolen walked inside the dimly lit club without being searched. The band played a loud urban tune that half the patrons were dancing to.

A pretty Latina was singing and dancing around in a salsa like spin. Scanning the room for Sydney, he saw women and men of all races laughing and drinking together. After a few minutes, he spotted her, dressed in blue jeans and a low-cut red blouse. She was dancing with a young stranger with long dreadlocks.

Nolen stepped through the crowd, he watched as she turned her back to her partner, swaying her hips from side to side, then rolled her stomach like a belly dancer. Her long hair covered her face as her partner traced the sweet curve of her hips with his flattened palms, pushing against her.

Nolen felt his gut churn at the sight of another man touching her. Sydney turned in the man’s arms and placed hers around his neck. The stranger slid his hands across her rump, pushing her against him and trying to kiss her, but she pushed him back, shaking her head no. Nolen couldn’t hear what they said to each other, but he suspected it wasn’t what the man wanted to hear.

Sydney pushed past the man, who followed her off the dance floor. Nolen saw them disappear and moved through the crowd to find them. They had stopped near the bar, and he watched as the man made his plea. Sydney dropped her head, but the guy forced her face back up. When this stranger moved in to kiss her again, she pushed him away, shouting at him. The man looked pained by her rejection, and she touched his arm as if to comfort him. Watching them, Nolen felt both angry and confused.

“Whatchu drinking?” a short, dark-skinned waitress with neatly cropped hair asked him, smiling.

“Who is that man?” Nolen asked, pointing through the crowd.

The waitress turned around to look at the partygoers. “Which man?”

“The one up against the bar in the green shirt.”

“Oh, that’s Ricky. He’s part-owner of the bar.”

Nolen nodded, recalling the name. “Who’s the other owner?”

“Syl. Over there, behind the bar.” The waitress pointed at a dark-haired Italian counting out money from the register.

“Thanks.”

“What about the drink?”

Shaking his head, he watched her move on to the next patron.

Sydney hugged Ricky now, kissing him on the cheek. He released her when the band stopped playing, raced up to the stage, and grabbed the mic as Sydney worked her way to the side of the stage.

“Good evening, folks!” he said, and Nolen thought he detected a Caribbean accent. “Give it up for Mercedes!” Everybody clapped and cheered, and Ricky waved his hand in the air to silence them. “Tonight we have a special treat for you. Our girl Sydney is going to give us something she wrote for my band.” The applause rose again, and Nolen, intrigued, joined in. She’d said that they really didn’t know each other. He had to admit she was right. Sydney walked up to the microphone.

“How’s everybody feeling tonight?”

The girls cheered her. Nolen saw her roommates sitting close to the side of the stage. Sydney shook her head with sass. Tonight her thick hair was wild and free, a cloud of auburn curls that hung in her eyes and bounced on her shoulders. She was exotic, beautiful, the most captivating woman in the room. “Ladies, I’m talking to you. It’s about your guy. You know that guy. He whispers, you melt, he disappoints you, and you cry.

The one that can twist your insides with a single touch,” she said, grinning when women from the dance floor cheered and waved her on. “Ok, you ready? ’Cause school is open ladies, I’ll tell you how to handle him,” Sydney glanced over to Ricky and winked.

Nolen leaned against the wall, staring at her.

Sydney waited for the band to bring up the tempo. Holding the microphone, she hummed the chorus with a light sway of her hips. She opened her eyes, and as she started the song, her gaze collided with his from across the room where he stood at the back of the club. He boldly held that stare, drawing her and her song directly to him. And the song was more than fitting. It told of the decadence a new love could bring. Her sweet yet soulful voice was powerfully erotic in its delivery.

The crowd beneath her swayed as one, caught up in the rapture, everyone captivated as if under her spell. Nolen remained motionless, a vaguely sensuous light passed between them. The prolonged anticipation of actually having her was becoming increasingly unbearable for him.

Then the song ended. There seemed to be a collective sigh across the audience, then an explosion of cheers and clapping. Nolen rose from the wall and joined in the praise with a sly smile, but was soon disappointed when Ricky came up behind her, scooping her into his arms and kissing her neck.

Pushing free of Ricky, Sydney turned back to the crowd. She didn’t see him. She hurried down the stage steps. She had to shove her way through the partygoers who continued to shower her with praise. Behind her, she heard Ricky speaking into the mic as the band called for the next singer, but she didn’t catch his words. Her heart was like thunder in her chest. Why did he come? Where did he go?

“Did you save the last dance for me?” his voice asked in her ear. She stopped with him behind her.

“I thought you left,” she answered.

The palm of his hand went under hers, and their fingers intertwined, she turned to look him in the eye.

He came for her? Overdressed, and as intense as ever, she felt like the only girl in the room looking into his face.

Nolen led her back into the crowd she had hoped to escape. A saxophone solo accompanied by a jazz singer filled the air. The dark, florescent blue lighting of the club only charged her desire for him. Sydney didn’t bother to look up to see whether Ricky was watching. She stared at Nolen’s tall frame, following his lead. Nolen turned and pulled her into him. He slipped his arm around her waist and held her firm.

With both hands on his broad shoulders, she lifted her head and her gaze. “What are you doing here?” she asked.