Black Butterfly (29 page)

“And hurting Ricky is your choice too?” Portia tossed out at her, folding her arms defiantly.

“Leave my room,” Sydney said, sitting down on her bed. She closed her eyes and willed herself to stop shaking. Portia must have noticed, because she stopped flapping her gums about Nolen.

“Syd? What is it?”

“Get out!” Sydney said clenching her hand to a fist.

“I’m sorry Syd, what’s wrong?”

Sydney dropped her head shaking it. “You have no idea how hard I try. Sometimes I think I should have stayed in Carolina.” She looked up at Portia. “If you were a friend, a real friend, you wouldn’t constantly find ways to make me question myself.”

“I’m sorry.” Portia put her hand to her breast. “Syd, I’m a bitch. I’m sorry. I love you, I have since we were six. I’ve always loved you. I get jealous, and I do and say stupid shit all the time. I can’t stop myself. But I love you and Trish. I swear it.”

Portia dropped to her knees. “You’re right. I lost it after that bastard attacked me. I’ve been so angry at myself but I punished you guys for it. I got issues. Syd look at me.” Sydney forced herself to look into Portia’s eyes.

Her friend smiled sadly. “I love you, I do. I’m going away and it might be the break we need.”

“Going away?”

“Yes. I got a gig in L.A. They’re flying me out tomorrow.”

“I’m happy for you.”

Portia blinked away tears. “I wanted to share my news with you, but we’re so distant.” Sydney rose and so did Portia. She gave her friend a loving hug. “I haven’t been here for you. I’m really happy for you, Portia.”

Portia kissed her cheek. “I love you, Syd. I’m sorry too. I don’t know why we’ve fought, but I want it to stop.”

Sydney smiled. “If only Trish were here. She’d love to see us make up.”

“The girl’s in love. Who is he?”

“Nolen’s best friend.”

“Wow. How did they meet?”

“The other day when we went to brunch, he came over and Nolen introduced him to us.”

“The other day?”

“The day you went to your agent’s to pick out pictures for your interview with the Ford Agency.”

“When I was here waiting for you?” Portia pulled away from Sydney and stepped back.

“It was just brunch,” Sydney protested. “He takes pictures, but I don’t know what kind. They have this whole artist vibe thing going.”

Portia smiled weakly and shrugged. “I think it’s great she’s found somebody to connect with.” Sydney nodded. “If only I could smooth things over with Ricky,” she said, starting to undress so she could shower before Nolen’s driver came for her.

“Why do you care? I thought you said you didn’t feel anything for him.”

“I never said that. I said I was in love with Nolen. I still love and care for Ricky. I don’t want him to think I’ve abandoned us. His friendship means a lot to me, just like yours.”

“It’s not your concern anymore, Sydney. Ricky will be fine and move on. He may even find love again.” Sydney watched her go. She didn’t understand why Portia was so dismissive of Ricky’s feelings since she claimed to be trying to protect them, but she didn’t want another argument. Instead of going after Portia, she headed to the bathroom. She needed to clear her head of the events of the day.

Todd opened the door to see Trish grinning at him, wearing her backpack and carrying her art supplies.

She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi! Let me give you a hand with your stuff.” This time he’d sent a driver so she wouldn’t have a hard time getting her paints and things back to his place.

“I take it you haven’t seen your roommates?” he asked.

Trish took off her backpack and said, “I saw Portia, but she was on her way out.” Todd slipped his hands into his flimsy pants pockets. “Did you tell her about us?” Trish looked over her shoulder smiling. “I sure did!”

“She had a lot of questions?”

“That girl’s head is in the clouds,” Trish said, chuckling. “She was excited about some phone call and barely heard me.”

Todd felt a wave of relief. Obviously Trish still didn’t know the truth, and apparently Portia didn’t know who Trish was seeing. At least now he could confess to Trish in his own way, and the hell with Portia. Trish looked at her canvas appraisingly, preparing to resume her work.

He pulled her from it and kissed her again, then released her and smiled down into her face. “Maybe Nolen and Sydney, I mean Sydney, and you, and I can go to my place in Nantucket next weekend,” he said casually.

“I’d like that.”

“You should call Sydney at Nolen’s place and pitch the idea.”

“Ok,” she said, hugging him.

“Are you going to paint?” he asked.

“Yep. I haven’t painted all day, and I’m itching to get some of this happiness onto canvas. Can you get dressed? I need you on the sofa pronto.”

He smiled. “I have some work to finish in the studio. Can it wait? Maybe later we’ll make dinner.”

“Fried chicken?” she asked quickly.

“What’s with you and all the greasy foods? I have some tofu we can fix.” Trish frowned. “Tofu? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Let’s compromise and order some Thai,” Todd suggested.

Trish nodded. “That’s a good compromise. I guess I can do some sketching.”

“Is Nolen at home?” Sydney asked Charles.

“He has a late meeting,” Charles answered. “I’m leaving now to pick him up.” He gave her a little bow and left. Walking straight to Nolen’s lavish bedroom, she pulled off her gloves, thinking about what she’d cook for dinner, and dropped her bag on top of the elegant bed. The incident with Ben Mendoza still had her shaken.

She wanted to share it with Portia, but they just didn't connect anymore. Sighing, she sat on the bed. Maybe she should talk to Nolen. Tell him her fears, her shame. After all, she was slowly admitting to herself her feelings for the man. He even revealed some of his past to her. It might help.

Rising, she headed for the bathroom. The door to the side room was ajar. She couldn't help but be drawn inside. She flipped up the light and looked around at the files and papers. Something told her to leave, not to look. But she felt compelled. She picked up a paper and saw nothing on it remarkable. It was dated thirteen years ago. She picked up another. After checking three, she noticed something unique about the papers.

Each featured a rich woman who had fallen prey to a conman. First there was an heiress, who was said to have lost up to ten million in one scam. Sydney checked the next paper and the next. She was right. An elusive bachelor moved from state to state stealing young and old women's hearts as well as their fortunes.

She stepped back from the papers. She knew there were probably more details in the file folders. But she didn't want to know. Sydney walked out of the room and turned off the lights.

Chapter 13

Behind the Looking Glass

Welcomed by the homey aroma of baked chicken, and yams, Nolen walked deeper through his home, shedding his trench coat and removing his gloves. Today had been really rough, and his visit with Todd had extinguished any hope of salvaging it. Nolen entered the kitchen, he found his special lady pulling a tray of chicken out of the oven.

She hummed sweetly at the stove. After a moment she sensed his presence, turned her head, and smiled.

“Hey, what took you so long? You called and said you’d be home two hours ago,” she asked, dropping the oven mitt on the counter and throwing her arms around him.

Nolen kissed her first on the lips then second on the neck. He tried to lift her shirt, but she giggled, stepping back and pushing his hands away.

“I’m sorry. The meeting ran over.” He stifled a smile. “I sound like a dutiful husband, look at you pretending to be my domesticated wife.”

She wiped her lip-gloss from his lips. “I like the game of pretend.”

“Me too,” he said, squeezing her rump, he felt the heat from the oven to the back of his hand and stepped backward to pull her away from the stove. Sydney swayed in his arms staring up at him with round soft brown eyes under long dark lashes. She blinked and he swore his heart skittered pass a beat. There was something refreshingly honest about her.

Sydney rose on her toes, and planted another soft but firm kiss to his lips. She pushed at his arms and broke from his embrace to return to the counter. She began brushing barbecue sauce over the chicken. “Your kitchen has more food than a grocery store. This is my specialty. You’ll love it.” Nolen inhaled and sighed with pleasure. He hadn’t eaten barbecued chicken in years. “That smells wonderful.”

“It will be. Now go and get into something more accessible.” She winked. “I’ll be ready for you soon.”

“I could get used to this, you know!”

One Week Later -

The eighty-inch wall screen and leather sofa shaped like a horseshoe made her feel like she was in a private screening room. Unfortunately the channel was set to a boring basketball game. Sydney didn’t mind. She loved cooking and relaxing with him. No matter how fast things progressed with Nolen she felt normal. A week spent of getting to know him, enjoy him, had confirmed so much. She was in love.

Sydney relaxed with her feet in his lap, sipping her wine. She kept stealing glances at him. His profile could be as intense as his face. In fact she should find him quite intimidating. Nolen massaged her feet oblivious to her scrutiny. She set the wine glass in the coaster on the armrest, and reached for his hand. His gaze soon shifted from the screen to her. Sydney wanted to say something profound, strike a conversation he would appreciate. He’s an investment banker, real-estate mogul, Broadway show financier, and she was just Sydney Allen from Beaufort. The incident with Ben Mendoza had left her raw, questioning every decision she’s made lately. Namely sleeping with a man who could make her a star. She tried to put it out of her mind. But she caught the sideways glances of Madame Gustav, and nasty smirks from Emily. Today in particular Bet had been a little cold to her. She needed to talk about it.

“So tell me about your day,” he said breaking the silence between them.

“Let's not talk about it,” she mumbled. Her tone was clipped and abrupt, she immediately regretted it.

His attention solely focused on her now. “Rehearsal was fine.”

“Talk to me.”

Sydney bit down on her bottom lip. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Start anywhere. Something bothering you?”

“Yes.” When she looked over she saw such worry in his eyes, she could contain her secret no longer. “It happened to me when I first came to New York.”

“It?” Nolen frowned.

“I wanted badly to be accepted into the Alvin Ailey Dance Troupe, very badly.”

“You told me that the registration was full, right?” Nolen asked.

Sydney averted her gaze. She focused on the commercial for tomato soup on the screen. Old shame and regret filled her with dread. Nolen wasn’t like Portia, and not nearly as paranoid about her wellbeing as Ricky.

“Sydney?”

“When I didn’t get in I tried another… place.”

“Place? School?”

She nodded instead of answering.

“What school?”

“The Dance Academy. Do you know it?”

“American Dance Academy, yes, I've heard of it.”

“I couldn't get an interview, so I… I tried to get the attention of a man named Ben Mendoza.”

“And?”

Sydney looked back to the television. “Portia said a little flirting would work. To just smile and pretend to not notice his flirts back. She said… well she said things would only go my way if I tried. And I, um, did.

When things got to far out of hand, he tried to force himself on me. I don't know how I escaped him that day in his office, but it was the scariest time of my life.” She sighed. “Now he's back. His daughter is in Xenia's production and he's threatening to tell Xenia that I tried to seduce him. That, coupled with rumors about us, it just, it feels like . . .”

Nolen pulled her close to him. “Come here,” he said. She did as he asked. She rested against his chest.

“What's this man's name again?”

“Ben Mendoza.”

“I'm sorry Ben Mendoza scared you, hurt you. Don't worry, I'll—”

“No.” She sat upright. “Don't get involved. It'll just blow up in my face. Please. Promise me you won't.”

“I won't,” he said. “But I'll never sit back and let you be hurt.”

“That’s sweet.” She sniffed. “I was more concerned of what you would think… of my role in this.”

“Why?” he asked.

Sydney chewed on the inside of her jaw. She decided on the truth. “Because I was such a bitch to you when we first met. Then here we are, it kind of looks like… I don’t know, like I planned it.”

“Bullshit. You weren’t a bitch to me. Besides you stood up for yourself and I respect that. Ben Mendoza should have respect that. Someone needs to teach him some manners.”

“Why are you okay with this?” Sydney pressed.

He pinched her chin and lifted her face to look into her eyes. “We are flawed. We make mistakes. I’ve made my share. I’m not here to judge you Sydney.”

The answer resonated within her heart and her insecurities subsided. “Thank you.” She relaxed against him once more. Then shot straight up. “Oh, I spoke to Trish earlier. She wanted me to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“They want us to go with them to Todd’s place this weekend in Nantucket.” Nolen frowned. “Not interested.”

“No? Why not?”

He returned his attention back to the screen.

Sydney snuggled him. Her hand eased down his lower abdomen to the bulge between his legs. He shot her another quick glance without moving his head.

“What’s the problem,” she implored. “It’ll be fun.” Nolen shifted. He lowered his gaze to her stroking hand. She grinned slyly. “Is that a yes?”

“Depends on how badly you want to go,” he answered.

“Let me show you,” she said. Her hand slipped away from his erection when she lowered her legs. She eased down his front zipper slowly. Sydney’s excitement was so intense it burned like hot coals in the pit of her stomach. Her gaze flipped up to see if he was as excited as she was. Their eyes met. The heat, banked in his hooded stare over her actions confirmed it.