Black Butterfly (52 page)

“Thank you,” she said, hugging her.

Portia hugged her back with what remained of Sydney’s wild curls in her face. Finally letting go of the embrace, all three girls wiped their eyes.

The limo pulled up at the private airport, Sydney glanced suspiciously at Nolen, who was leaning back in the seat with his eyes closed. “Where are we going?” she asked. “Where are my parents?” He opened his eyes and grinned. “They’re here.”

“Here? The airport? Why?”

“You’ll see in about seven hours.”

“Seven hours!” Sydney exclaimed.

Trish frowned. “What?”

Todd laughed. “Will you two calm down? It’s a celebration.”

Sydney shook her head. “Nolen, seven hours? What on earth are you planning? I can’t believe—” Nolen kissed her into silence,

Charles helped the women out of the limo. Sydney had changed into a strapless pearl-colored satin dress with her rhinestone sandals. A three-carat diamond choker circled her neck. Portia and Trish had helped her remove the extensions and tame her wild curls, but the night wind made a mockery of their efforts. She smiled when she spotted the Cessna jet with ADAMS printed on the side.

Nolen slipped his arms around her waist. “You ready?”

“You don’t fool me, Mr. Adams, but I’ll let you have your moment. Yes, I’m ready.” Nolen chuckled and softly kissed her bare shoulder then led her to the plane with Todd and Trish following.

Her parents waited inside. Everyone clapped for Sydney and she sat down, happier than she had ever been. Once they were in the air, enjoying a lobster dinner and wine from Nolen’s private stock, they laughed and talked about the show. Sydney entertained them with a vivid description of Juanita running around hysterically trying to remedy one mishap after another.

Nolen rubbed her back and played with her curls as he listened to her talk.

“Now will you tell me where we’re going?” she asked.

“No, sweetheart. It’s a surprise.”

“You and your surprises!” She huffed.

Trish giggled, and Sydney narrowed her eyes. “You know, don’t you?” Trish shook her head quickly. “No, Sydney, I—”

“Spill it!”

“No!”

“Tell me, Trish!”

“NO!”

Nolen leaned over, moving her long hair from her shoulder and kissing her neck. “Why don’t you just calm yourself?” he whispered.

“Ok.” She pouted.

The couples moved to separate corners of the plane. Even her parents had their own private spot, where they spoke in hushed sweet tones to one another. Sydney snuggled against her man. “You sent for Portia, didn’t you?”

Nolen rubbed her arms with his eyes closed, smiling. “Yes. I thought she needed to be there for your big night.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. It meant a lot to all three of us.”

He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

Feeling safe in his powerful embrace, Sydney drifted into a deep sleep.

Once they stepped off the plane onto the private airstrip, Sydney saw the Eiffel Tower in the bright morning sun and gasped in surprise. She looked back at Nolen. “Paris?” He took her hand, pulling her to the limo and she looked back at Trish in joyous perplexity. She couldn’t believe he’d whisked them off to Paris in the middle of the night.

The limo carried them all along the winding streets, the car veered onto a two-lane highway, and Sydney looked at Nolen. “Ok, can you tell me now?”

Nolen laughed. “Fine. We’re headed to Montrouge, a village outside of Paris.”

“And?”

“And . . . you’ll see the rest when we arrive.”

Twenty minutes later they pulled into a large chateau sitting on acres of land. The grass was a brilliant green. Large gates displaying the initials N.A. opened automatically at their approach.

“Let me guess. You own this?” Sydney asked.

Nolen winked at her. Sydney shook her head. She had never asked him about the properties that he owned. Even as his fiancée, she cared very little about his monetary worth, but time and time again, he had surprised her like this, making her feel like a six-year-old trapped in a fancy toy store.

The car stopped, and she slid back over the seat to him. “Is today my wedding day?” she asked, brushing her glossed lips against his.

He smiled slyly. “Yes it is.”

“Good,” she said, kissing him passionately.

Her father cleared his throat. Everyone laughed.

When the driver opened the door, the couples stepped out. Nolen took Sydney’s hand in his and he escorted her up the gray stone steps between the pillars that supported the eighteen-foot roof. The staff opened the doors as they approached, revealing yellow-and-white bouquets adorned with bows and ribbons throughout the foyer. He led her down the corridor into a large, open room where a minister waited under a wedding arch trimmed in the same color flowers and ribbons. Nolen’s staff, all dressed in white, stood discreetly in the corner.

She looked over at him, smiling as a string quartet played soft music. “I love you, Nolen.”

“Then marry me.”

“You’re on!”

They exchanged vows with her parents and Todd and Trish at their sides. When the minister pronounced them husband and wife, Sydney let go tears of joy. Nolen picked her up and spun her around the room, telling her that she would always be first in his life, and she clung to him, happier than she’d ever imagined she could be.

She had found her prince. The fairytale was much grander than the one she’d acted out on the stage.

Epilogue

One year later

“Sydney, get up and see what it says!” Trish said, rubbing her round belly.

Both hot and tired she blinked through sweat and wondered if the air condition was on. She marked the last box. “I’ll do it, I said, in five minutes!”

“When are you two leaving again?”

“Next week. The house is all ready. Westmore here we come.”

The show had closed to rave reviews, and Nolen had sealed all of his business ties in New York, giving more control to Annemarie. It was time to begin the next chapter in their lives.

She’d called Trish to tell her that she’d missed her period. She had only been off the Pill for a little over a month, but she was cautiously optimistic. Trish had come right over. Showing up with a home pregnancy test, she’d forced Sydney to take it right then.

“Sydney, if you don’t go get the thing, I will!”

“No!” Sydney said. She walked around the box she had just labeled KITCHEN.

Trish laughed. “You’re really scared, aren’t you?”

Sydney sat down next to her friend on the leather sofa. “I’m petrified. I mean, I want his baby. God, I want a dozen of them, but I thought it would take more time for my body to adjust.” Her voice trailed off.

Trish sat up in her blue maternity sundress. “I don’t understand. You’ve been talking about this for months. Is it Nolen? Are you afraid he won’t want the pregnancy?”

“He wants a baby. We talked about it.”

Sydney wasn’t sure if he wanted the baby because she did or if he wanted fatherhood. She was certain he loved her, and would be a good father.

“Everything will be alright Syd.”

“I know, but it seems so fast. I mean, I’m moving away, and we won’t be together. I’ve loved going through your pregnancy with you. But I’ll have to go through mine all alone.” Trish shook her long golden ponytail and smiled. “Nonsense. Nolen is there. Hell, he gave up a lot of his business just to spend time with you, and Todd’ll take the baby and me to see you anytime I want. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Now go get that stick so we can see what we’re dealing with.” As Sydney pushed herself off the couch with a heavy sigh, the doorbell rang. “Todd coming already to drag you back to his lair?” she joked. He had treated Trish like a china doll this last trimester and was a nervous wreck when she was out of his sight.

“Nope!” she said. “He has a photo shoot in Times Square, of all places. He’s already called a million times. He thinks I’m home.” She giggled. “When the doctor told him that the baby is big enough to survive outside the womb, he jumped to the conclusion that she could be born at any second.” Sydney laughed as she looked over at the door again. Now she was more than curious. Their penthouse wasn’t accessible from the street. Standing on tiptoe to look through the peephole, she saw Portia standing behind the door wearing a green short set, her long hair framing her face.

She saw Portia only when she went to the community center to teach dance to the kids. They were friendly, but nowhere near friends. Sydney knew, however, that Portia and Trish had spent a lot more time together since Trish had become pregnant. Sydney opened the door and smiled. “Hey, Portia. What are you—?”

“Hey, Sydney,” Portia said. “Sorry to intrude, but I ran into Charles, your driver, and he said that you were leaving today. Portia said you were moving, but I didn’t know it was today? I asked him to bring me here.

Please don’t be mad at him. I was pretty persuasive.” She grinned.

Sydney nodded and let her in. “How are you?”

“Hey, Portia!” Trish said. “Sorry. Sydney asked that I not mention it to anyone. She’s getting a lot of press lately since Black Butterfly closed.”

Portia walked through the foyer to the living room. “I didn’t know you were here,” she said, staring around at the expensive penthouse crammed with boxes.

“Yeah, we were just—”

“About to have lunch!” Sydney interrupted, causing Trish to frown at her.

Portia saw the look that passed between them and blushed. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to intrude. I—

I—I just don’t—didn’t—want you to leave without saying goodbye.” Sydney nodded. “It’s ok. Trish was going to make us some fried bologna sandwiches.” Her friend’s frown turned into a smile. “Now you’re talking!” Ponytail swinging, she struggled to heave herself off the couch.

Portia placed a hand under her arm to help her as Trish caught her breath. “Careful,” Portia said.

“So, what’s new with you?” Sydney asked Portia as Trish waddled into the kitchen. “Are you ok?”

“I’m good, Sydney. I really hope you don’t mind—”

“Stop apologizing. I’m glad you came to say goodbye.”

“You are?”

Sydney ran her hands across the front of her denim skirt. “Really, I am. I’ve been so busy with things.

Trish even had to come to me, and that husband of hers barely lets her out of his sight.” Portia looked toward the hall where Trish had gone into the kitchen. “It’s weird, Sydney. I mean, he really does love her a lot. Who knew?”

Sydney pushed up her sleeves. “He does, and they’re really happy.”

“I know. I’ve seen them together. We’re actually friends now, Todd and I. Well, we’re friendly, I mean.”

“Trish told me. I’m glad you can support her through her pregnancy in case I don’t make it back in time.” Portia looked around at all the boxes. “So, where’s your husband?”

“He’s in Westmore, dealing with our move,” Sydney said, smiling at the thought of his return. “He should be back this afternoon.”

“The news said he was back under investigation.” Portia asked.

“He will always be under investigation.” Sydney said in a sobering tone. “But the worst is over. For now.”

“Ricky and Syl sold the club,” Portia said.

“Why?” Sydney asked, frowning.

“Ricky’s going back to Toronto. He got a deal up there with a Canadian record label for his band.” Sydney stared at Portia for a moment. She hadn’t seen Ricky in over a year, not since their confrontation in the hallway of the apartment building. “Well, if you talk to him, tell him I said congratulations.” Portia nodded. “I think I should go now, so you girls can have lunch.”

“You don’t have to. I mean, you can join us.”

Portia bit her lip. “I miss you. It’s been over a year. I really need your friendship.”

“Portia . . .”

“The strain between us is killing me. I’ve respected your choice to remain civil, and I’ve stayed out of your way when our paths cross, but we grew up together. You’re like family to me.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll give me another chance, a real chance. Let me be a part of your life and prove myself to you.

No one cares for me like you and Trish.”

Sighing deeply, Sydney pulled Portia into her arms.

Portia began to cry on her shoulder, and Sydney held her tightly, silently vowing to make more of an effort to heal the wounds between them. Portia wiped her eyes.

“Now, come on. Let’s eat some of Trish’s famous fried bologna,” Sydney said.

They walked around the boxes and headed toward the kitchen where Trish was making three sandwiches. Sydney went to the cabinet to get the chips, and Portia sat on a stool near the island, smelling the delicious aroma of the bologna as it was dropped onto the bread.

“So, you two ok?” Trish asked hopefully.

Sydney opened the large bag of chips. “Yes, Mother, we’re fine!” she said, chuckling.

“Good. So did you tell Portia the news?” she asked, passing a plate to Portia.

Sydney frowned at her. “Trish, don’t!”

“What news? Come on, guys! Clue me in!”

Sydney shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’m two weeks late.”

“Late for what?”

Trish burst into laughter. “Damn, Portia, how long has it been for you?” Portia looked at Trish first, and then at Sydney, who was staring back with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, my God, are you sure?”

“No, I’m not, which is why Trish needs to keep her mouth shut!” Sydney said, glaring at her friend.

Trish shrugged, grabbing the bag of chips and scooping handfuls out of the bag and onto her plate. “The proof is in the bathroom, but she’s too scared to look at it.” Portia bit into her sandwich, looking at Sydney expectantly. “Do you want a baby?” Sydney grabbed her plate with the mountain of chips and fixed her lunch. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well, good. You two will be great mothers.”

“What about you, Portia?” Trish asked, wiping mayonnaise from her mouth with a napkin. “Any prospects?”

“I’ve had a lifetime of men,” she said sadly. “Not interested.” Trish stared at her, obviously not liking the response.

Could she be pregnant? She’d told Nolen that she intended to stop taking the pill, but he had no idea that she’d actually done it. Looking over at her friends, she realized that they had stopped talking and were staring at her, and she blushed. “Will one of you go get it?” she asked softly.