Authors: Robin Allen
Tags: #love, #romance, #campaign manager, #political mystery, #race, #PR, #political thriller, #art, #campaign, #election, #Retro, #voting, #politicians, #relationships, #suspense, #governor, #thriller, #scandal, #friendship, #multicultural, #painting, #secrets, #Politics, #lawyer, #love triangle
* * * * *
Sage impatiently tapped her foot as she waited in the lobby of the Waldorf Hotel for a limousine to take her back to her hotel. Awake since five o’clock, Sage’s day had been extremely busy—the Governors’ Conference, dinner at the White House and a cocktail party.
But she was glad to be busy, glad to get away from Ramion’s phone calls and claims of denial, for a few days. She dreaded tomorrow, when she would return to Atlanta and face her crumbling life.
Glancing at her watch, she eased over to the concierge’s desk. “Excuse me,” she said. “Can you find out if the limo for Kennedy is on its way?”
The young concierge, attired in a maroon uniform and hat, said, “There’s been an accident on the freeway, so he might be stuck in traffic. But I’ll call and see what I can find out.”
“Thank you.” Pointing to the sofa across from the hotel bar, she said, “I’ll be sitting over there.” She held on to the railing as she trotted down the stairs.
A man spoke to her when she reached the bottom of the steps. “Hello. I’m Enrique Lopez. I work for…”
“Ambassador Lopez from Puerto Rico,” Sage said, gazing into the blackest eyes she had ever seen, eyes that elicited a smile from her. His hair was jet black, a striking complement to his olive complexion.
Sage extended her arm, expecting a handshake, but Enrique took Sage’s hand, leaned over and kissed it. Flattered, Sage’s smile widened and she said, “I’m Sage…”
“Kennedy,” he said, finishing her sentence. “You work for Governor Hudson.”
“It’s a pleasure meeting you.”
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he said, his grin flirtatious, “when I could meet you.” He spoke with the smooth, seductive accent of South American aristocracy.
Suddenly Sage forgot how tired she was. “I guess you’re glad this conference is over so you can go back home.”
“Actually, it saddens me that it is over. For me, it means only that I won’t be able to see you.” He exuded a foreign, exotic charm.
You’re a dangerous flirt,
Sage thought, deciding not to fuel the situation by responding. “The conference was very informative.”
“Yes, it was. Governor Hudson gave a dynamic speech.”
“Yes, he did,” Sage said. She glanced away, searching for the concierge, yet not finding him.
“Actually, my colleague was supposed to come, but his wife went into labor and he couldn’t leave. So being single, unattached and without family obligations, it was decided that I could come in his place.” His eyes lingering on hers, Enrique added, “Lucky for me.”
“Of course. How often does a person get to dine with the president of the United States?”
“Perhaps only once in a lifetime. Just like this meeting with you. Maybe it was destiny.”
Sage cocked her eyebrows. “Destiny?” she repeated incredulously.
“Perhaps my colleague’s
bambino
timed his arrival with this journey because I was destined to meet you.”
“Or maybe it is simply coincidence,” Sage said. His crazy logic made her wonder about the tape of Edwinna and Ramion.
“You don’t believe in destiny? How unromantic. How un-American.”
“How dare I be un-American?” Sage said with a teasing smile, thinking,
This man could make me forget my name, maybe even Ramion.
“I don’t want to rely on destiny or coincidence to see you again.”
“What did you say?”
“I’d like to see you again. I don’t want to leave it up to the gods of fate and chance.”
“I’m flattered, Enrique,” she said. “But I don’t think so.” To herself she thought,
I’d follow you back to Puerto Rico if I thought it would help me forget Ramion.
He nodded. “I noticed the ring. You are engaged.”
Pain knifed through her as she followed his gaze to her engagement ring, remembering the romantic moment when Ramion had slipped it on her finger. She still wasn’t ready to face the reality of his betrayal. The past few days had been a much-needed distraction. “Actually, I
was
engaged,” Sage said, feeling a mixture of strange emotions to hear those words out loud.
“Ah, past tense. Then this
is
destiny,” Enrique said with a seductive smile. “You are a single woman. From the look on your face, this breakup has been recent.”
“Yes,” Sage said, as images of Ramion kissing Edwinna flashed through her mind. She remembered the suffocating sensation she’d felt around her chest, that had threatened to steal her heartbeat. It hovered there still.
“Let me help you forget,” he said, edging closer to Sage. “I too am single, and I would very much love to have your company.”
She could smell his cologne—a musky, sexy scent.
I wonder if you look as good without your clothes,
Sage thought. “I can’t,” she said, trying to deny her attraction to Enrique.
“Ah, you think you’re not ready. But I’ve been watching you, and I know you’ve been watching me.”
“That’s because you were looking at me. It’s a natural reaction.”
“You were looking because you felt the same thing.”
Sage would never admit he was right.
“He doesn’t know how lucky he is,” Enrique said. “Or how lucky he was.”
Sage noticed the concierge at the hotel entrance, waving at her. “My limo’s here.”
“Are you sure I can’t change your mind? We can go anywhere you like. I have a plane at my disposal.”
You know how to tempt a girl,
Sage thought. “I can’t,” she said.
“I think you want to.”
Sage didn’t respond. She gazed into his dreamy eyes. She felt hypnotized by his charm.
Enrique kissed the back of her slender hand. “Let’s just go into the bar over there. We’ll have just one drink.”
“One drink,” Sage said.
Chapter Seventeen
A mob of reporters and cameramen swarmed around Sage like a hive of bees as she emerged from the state capitol building. Sage greeted the reporters she knew and agreed to three brief interviews. Tamara Banks, a popular reporter from the Fox network, stepped forward and signaled to the camera crew to start filming. Speaking into the microphone, Tamara asked Sage, “Do you have a statement about today’s election?”
Attired in a hunter-green business suit, Sage turned on her media face: head held upward, bright smile and warm, friendly eyes. “We’re happy that so many people went to the polls. Special elections don’t usually draw the masses, but we appreciate the fact that people are taking time out of their busy day to vote for a new flag.”
Tamara moved the microphone away from Sage and spoke into it. “The state flag has been such a controversial issue, why do you think so many voters went to the polls?”
“I believe people realize they can’t stop the winds of change. So they decided to be a part of the process. We wanted our citizens to be involved. That’s why we held a special election, so Georgians can be part of this history-making event.”
“Are you surprised that flag B was chosen?”
“I think both designs are beautiful and special. Flag B is similar to the national flag, which is probably why it’s getting the most votes.”
Sage held up her hands, indicating that she wasn’t going to answer any more questions. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I have to say at this time.”
* * * * *
Ramion spotted the license plate on the black 500 Mercedes-Benz—
EDWINNA
. He closed his eyes, as if pressing his lids tightly would erase the memory of going car shopping with Edwinna when she purchased it. He stealthily studied her movements, like an undercover detective, watching her park the car, get out with a Gucci handbag dangling from her shoulder and reach inside the trunk to retrieve several shopping bags. He never knew a woman who could shop so much. If Edwinna wasn’t bringing bags home from boutiques or department stores, she was opening boxes shipped to her condo by catalog companies.
With the coolness of a cop about to catch a thief, Ramion stepped from the shadows of the trees. “Edwinna,” he said, his voice as cold as a polar bear’s toenails.
“Oooh,” Edwinna shrieked, her bags tumbling to the concrete. She backed away a few steps before the voice registered. “You frightened me, Ramion!”
This was the moment she had been waiting for, when he would return to her. She just wasn’t sure how long she would let him think all was forgiven before she ended the relationship. That was the way it was supposed to be: Edwinna deciding the outcome of the relationship.
“Why did you send Sage that tape?” Ramion asked, his tone so hostile that Edwinna stepped back from him.
“What are you talking about?” she said, stooping down to pick up the bags she had dropped. She was reaching for the last bag, the Neiman Marcus bag that contained an Armani suit, when Ramion pressed his foot against the bag.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Edwinna looked up at Ramion, her hand clasped around the handle of the bag. Ramion’s foot was clearly in the way. With a sinister smile, she asked, “Did it turn her on?”
“You bitch!” he bellowed, his voice registering the suppressed rage of a caged animal. He fought the urge to kick her, to release the anguish of his anger. He breathed deeply, then slowly moved his foot from the bag.
“It hurt her little feelings to see you with me? To see us having a good time?” she taunted while standing up. “You remember, don’t you? That’s why you’re here.”
“Why, Edwinna? Why would you do that to her?” His face was a mixture of confusion and anger. He was truly baffled by her Machiavellian ways.
“She stole you from me just when we were getting serious.”
“I don’t know where you got the idea that our relationship was serious. I never lied to you, Edwinna,” he said impatiently. “I never told you that I love you. I never told you that we had a future together.”
“You just didn’t realize it. Think about it, if we were together and you still worked for Daddy, you wouldn’t have to hustle to win the state senate. You would win hands down.”
“That’s not what we’re talking about. That’s not why you sent Sage a tape you had altered. That was vicious and mean, and you wonder why I ended our relationship.”
“She canceled the wedding, didn’t she?” she asked with a snide smile.
“It’s not going to work.”
“I already know that the wedding is off. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. So tell me, without Daddy’s backing and the bitch’s campaign know-how, how the hell are you going to win the election?”
“I don’t care about the election. I care about Sage,” he said. He knew that Sage’s feelings didn’t mean anything to her, but her father’s did. He paused, and then added, “I can’t imagine that Edwin would approve of what you’ve done. He would be very disappointed.”
“I can’t imagine that you would run and tell him,” she retorted, her expression changing from unconcern to worry for a few seconds.
“I don’t know you at all,” Ramion said disgustedly. “You’re an evil, conniving woman, and I can’t believe that I ever went to bed with you.”
“You loved what’s between my thighs, baby. That’s why you’re here now.”
“No, I’m here to tell you to leave Sage alone. Take out your twisted hatred on me, but don’t mess with Sage.”
She leaned forward and said, “I’m not some little nobody that you should think you can intimidate.”
“Let me tell you something, Edwinna. I don’t believe in hitting people, especially women. But if you bother Sage again, I will break every bone in your body.” He leaned forward, pressing Edwinna against the wall. “I’m tempted to now…but I won’t.”
The venom in his voice and the viciousness in his eyes unnerved Edwinna. But she wasn’t going to let him know that he had frightened her. “I got what I want,” Edwinna snapped back. “I don’t have you, but neither does she.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Ramion said, before turning away.
* * * * *
Sage sorted through her CD collection, searching for something to soothe the restlessness of her spirit, the sadness in her heart. Her fingers glided down the CDs neatly stacked in a storage tower, flipping past Babyface, Kenny G, the Winans, Angela Bofill, Anita Baker and Toni Braxton. Stopping at a TLC CD, she smiled and reminded herself to return Ava’s favorite CD. Ava’s taste in music was rubbing off on her, she was loath to admit.
None of the CDs appealed to her feelings at the moment, so Sage returned to her old favorite. Billie Holiday could lift her spirit with the sassiness of the music or drain her soul with the realism of her lyrics. Billie could be an upper or a downer, depending on her emotional state. Billie Holiday’s voice was familiar and was always there.
She pressed the first song on the
Best of Billie Holiday
album that was already in the disc player. Billie’s sultry, sexy voice and lazy inflections in the song “Strange Fruit” filled the room.
The melody wafted through the air, the haunting lyrics scattering like dust particles in the air, present but unseen. Sage didn’t hear the words, but the music seeped into her soul.