North Star (19 page)

“And what do you want me to do now?” Caresse tore her gaze from his pleading eyes. He couldn’t get off that easy. These past couple weeks had been hell. “Thank you for sharing?”

“No, I want you to forgive me and take me back.”

“So you can hurt me again? Or are you craving a woman in your bed?”

“What we had wasn’t like that!”

“Great assessment from someone who walked away!” Hot tears of frustration poured from her tired eyes. “When I needed you the most, you showed me your backside, so how can I trust you after that?”

Graham rose from the steps and stood in front of her. “You can let me rebuild that trust and spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.” Graham got down on one knee and pulled a simply beautiful four carat, princess cut platinum engagement ring from his pocket.

Caresse froze, shocked by his declaration and amazed by his proposal. Was this real? Could she dare trust him? Risk her heart again?

“Will you marry me, Caresse? I can’t go another day without you in my arms.”

She covered her face with her hands and shook her head as her anger and heartache began to dissipate. “I’m scared.”

“I am, too, but I’d rather live my life with you than without you. Forgive me, and become my wife.”

His final words tore at her last resolve. “I’ll forgive and marry you, Graham, on one condition.”

“Anything,” Graham exclaimed as he slipped the ring onto the third finger of her left hand and rose to pull her into his arms. Before she would say another word, he kissed her madly. When he finished ravaging her lips, they hugged and stared up into the heavens.

Caresse touched his cheek, drawing his attention to her. Passion glittered in his eyes, but she also saw pain and regret lurking in their depths. But she had to protect herself, her girls. “For the record, there are no more chances. If you leave my arms again, you can’t come back.”

Graham nodded solemnly. “Understood.” He took her by the shoulders. “I promise I will never hurt you again. I love you, Caresse.”

This time when Graham tugged her into his embrace, Caresse responded with all the passion and love she felt for this man. Several minutes later, breathless and panting, she took a small step back, pleased to note she’d had a similar effect on him. “I love you, too, Graham.”

They stood on her front steps for a few more moments and stared up at the full moon and stars blanketing the sky. The beauty of the heavens brought them both back the night of their dinner under the stars.

“Which one is the North Star again?” she asked as he cradled her in his arms.

“It’s the brightest one, right there,” he said, pointing to the right. “It led me back to you.”

Epilogue

Six months later—New Year’s Eve

Caresse stood atop a lavishly decorated staircase at Graham’s estate with her father, Andre, as classical music softly floated in the air. She adjusted her veil as Janet, Laila, and Diane stood quietly in front of her. The last couple months seemed to be a tornado of activity as she planned her wedding to Graham. Diane and Laila made sure the process was as painless as possible, while Janet handled the vendors with professionalism and class.

When word spread after Graham announced his engagement, people began showing up at Caresse’s law firm daily to snap her photo for their magazines, newspapers, and entertainment couples news reports. The buzz was so distracting that she was forced to resign, so the firm could return to normal.

Graham wanted to give her a place in the legal department of
Psyche,
but Caresse decided the time off was welcome because she needed to help her daughters adjust to their upcoming wedding and the new stepfamily. Afterward, she’d take an assistant director position at the Mason Center, focusing on recruiting area lawyers to provide free legal assistance to people who had little or no income.

She’d decided on a small ceremony, so Graham’s ballroom was filled with one hundred family members, close friends, and
Psyche
and her law firm colleagues. With Janet’s generous help, the extravaganza was planned down to the last detail, without anyone feeling confined by time constraints.

Yvette had happily accepted duties as Maid of Honor, while Graham’s brother, Jaiden, stood proudly as the Best Man.

Messina and Nyla enjoyed their roles as junior bridesmaids since their new Uncle Latrell promised to let them name two of his new colts scheduled to be born in the spring.

“Are you ready, Baby Girl?” Andre whispered to his only daughter as she tried to slow her breathing.

“More than anything, Daddy.”

When the door opened and revealed Caresse, dressed in a beautiful, champagne-colored Vera Wang gown, Graham became overwhelmed with emotion. He’d never thought she could look more beautiful than she did the night of the Mason Ball, but here she was, taking his breath away.

Jaiden, Latrell, and Caresse’s brother, Xavier, stood proudly at Graham’s side as his father, Nathan, and Caresse’s mother, Valerie, watched Caresse leave her father’s arm to join Graham at the altar.

When she reached his side, joy and happiness shone in her eyes. He took her hand in his, leaned toward her and whispered, “I love you, Caresse.”

“I love you too.” She blushed as they turned to face the minister.

A short while later, as many women wiped their tearful eyes, the minister asked, “Do you, Graham Nathan Sheridan, take Caresse Selena Aldana as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Caresse Selena Aldana, take Graham Nathan Sheridan as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Then with the power vested in me by the State of New Jersey, I now pronounce you two husband and wife. Mr. Sheridan, you may kiss your bride.

Graham lifted her veil, gathered her into his arms, and kissed her like they were the only people in the room.

The pastor tugged on his Graham’s sleeve and cleared his throat. “There are children presence, son.”

Graham broke the kiss and glanced over at a red-faced Nyla and a giggling Messina. “Sorry girls, I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s okay, but long kisses are for your own room,” Nyla reprimanded. The guests roared with laughter.

At the reception, Graham became captivated by each brush of his wife’s body as they danced together. If they were alone, he would have freed her from that dress by now and shown her how their self-imposed restriction on lovemaking had drove him crazy for the last couple of months.

Caresse studied his face and he knew she saw the lust that was consuming his thoughts. “Not yet, Honey,” she said as she pulled him closer and kissed him deeply. “Just a few more hours.”

“Easy for you to say,” he growled and pressed his erection against her hip.

They’d decided to leave the next day for Hawaii, but Graham had every intention of enjoying every inch of his wife before the night was over. It hadn’t been easy to resist her as she worked with his sisters on their wedding, but he knew their imposed abstinence was needed to help her daughters adjust to their new family structure. He had amends to make, and if not sleeping with her before the wedding solidified her faith in him, well, it was the price he had to pay.

They’d shared the perfect month together when Caresse and the girls had moved in and they enjoyed Christmas together.

Every night, he would say goodnight to Caresse and the girls and watch them head to their rooms. He thought it was silly at first, because he had already slept with their mother, but when Messina reminded him that marriage always comes before babies, he knew the girls needed to see his courtship of Caresse and his commitment to love and respect her.

Tonight, Caresse would finally be back in his bed. Correction,
their
bed.

“What is that smile for?” Caresse asked as she brushed a piece of confetti from the lapel of his Armani tuxedo.

“I can’t wait to get you alone, Mrs. Sheridan. Completely alone.”

An hour later, after dinner was served, Laila pulled Caresse and Graham aside.

“I hate to leave a great party, but I have a plane to catch.”

“Hey, isn’t that our line?” Graham laughed as he stood behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her.

“Not this time, big brother,” She led them into the study and gave Caresse a large box filled with lingerie from La Perla as a wedding present. “This is for you two.”

“You were reading my mind,” Graham said as he pick up one of the see through nighties and winked at Caresse. “I love this one, baby.”

“It leaves little to the imagination, huh?” Caresse whispered shyly to Laila.

“Exactly!” Graham beamed.

Laila laughed. “Enjoy making some hot memories. I’m off to take my much needed vacation. The holidays and helping with this wedding have taken more out of me that you two could ever know, so I’m heading out before a big snowstorm blankets us again.”

Graham and Caresse hugged her tightly. “Can’t you stay for some cake or to tell everyone goodbye?” Caresse asked as Laila grabbed her coat.

“No time. Hey, big brother, remember to make me a niece I can spoil,” Laila said with a mischievous grin as she headed out the door.

The cold winter air chilled them as they stood in the doorway. “Do you think Laila’s heading for fun, or running away from reminders of Malcolm?” Caresse dropped her head on his shoulder.

Graham shrugged as he watched his sister get into a yellow taxi. “Maybe both.” He wrapped an arm around Caresse. “Why, do I feel sorry for the men she’ll encounter on her trip?”

“A little. I think she’s hell bent on breaking hearts and taking a few names. It’s the ritual woman go through to get over being dump by a man,” Caresse said as she shifted, then wrapped her arms around him.

“I’m not sure there’s a city that can handle all the heartache and hell-raising she can create.”

“Graham, darling we’ll soon find out.”

Please turn the page for a preview of

Book II of the Sheridan Series:

South Beach

by
Angeline M. Bishop
:

Now available from Soul Mate Publishing.

Chapter 1

For the first time in months, I’m going to forget everything and everyone in New Jersey
, Laila Sheridan thought as she strolled from her cab toward the Falconiere Grace Miami Beach hotel lobby. She willed herself to stop thinking about her failed relationship with Malcolm Khalid, a gifted writer with an inflated sense of what the world owed him. Earlier that afternoon, she resolved to leave her past heartaches before she took her first-class seat, but glimpses of the past started to drift into her mind during her flight to Florida. Now, as she inhaled the warm, citrus-scented air, thoughts of chilly New Jersey and its inhabitants loosened their hold and moved from her memory, like a faded Prada purse relegated to the back of her bedroom closet.

Entering the luminous hotel, she enjoyed the gentle embrace of an ocean breeze as it whipped the hem of her lilac Valentino cocktail dress. The fabric’s movement exaggerated the normal sway of her hips, and made each step more feminine and peppy.

A little after 8 PM, Laila approached the front desk, showed her reservation confirmation, and in her most alluring voice inquired, “Which way to my femencation?”

She made her voice sound tempting, like a tall glass of iced coffee on a balmy summer morning. Smooth and satisfying. Rich, too, with the faintest Jersey accent reserved for the likes of Keyshia Knight Pullam and Anne Hathaway. She knew her voice would instantly cause a male reaction when she turned up her throaty timbre with potent Sheridan flare. This vacation was about relishing in her womanhood. Toying with a few males would be a safe amusement, emphasis on
safe
because she had no intention of dealing with any strong male egos.

The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of the mouth of the Latino clerk before he located her information in the hotel computer. “Your party is now scheduled to enjoy the ocean view terrace of our Sapienti restaurant for dinner. We can take your coat and belongings to the La Baie Presidential suite so you can join them.”

She inclined her head in a small gesture of thanks then flashed her ID, and watched as he moved a form forward for her signature as he simultaneously placed her room key on the counter.

Laila took in the slight gleam in his eye and grinned, her mind too busy with thoughts of her friends to think too heavily about the open adoration. An Italian meal after a long flight was all that she needed. Well, as long as an inviting glass of Pinot Grigio accompanied it. She took her electronic key and placed them into her Chloè bag. “That’s fine, just point me in the right direction.”

She loved being the woman that put the ‘fem’ in Femencationer. It was a word she came up with to define any group of female friends whose ties go back as far as childhood or college that seek a high-end, luxury getaway experience. A vacation with all the feminine delights women dream of enjoying. This year’s femencation united three alumnus of the University of Florida and marked the start of the year to forget old sorrows and usher in new adventures.

As Laila strolled toward the Sapienti restaurant, she stopped when her shiny complexion caught her attention in a mirror that hung in the side hall corridor. She looked good for thirty-one but preferred to say she was in her late twenties when vacationing because no one over thirty, in their right mind, would party the way she planned to. She blotted her face and secretly wished she was meeting her friends under better circumstances but with Sofìa’s pending divorce from the famous sports announcer Sean Vega, they all needed a break from reality. This trip was the perfect reason to release stress.

When Laila arrived at the restaurant, several male heads turned in appreciation as she silently commanded the wait staff’s attention.

“I’m with the Vega/Sheridan/Carter party,” she announced as she surveyed the room.

“Your party has already been seated. John will you escort Mrs. . . .?”

“
Ms
. Sheridan,” she corrected, before pretending to lose her balance to mask her reason for placing a hand around John’s bicep. She tried to suppress a giggle that threatened to expose the disingenuous nature of her performance. “Please excuse me,” she said, wobbling toward him, “I had a long flight. Johnny, could you show me the way?”

They moved effortlessly through the patrons seated at their tables until Laila crossed the threshold of the balcony. The sight of her friends a few yards away made her light up like a five-year-old at a surprise party.

Laila stepped quickly as she approached Sofìa and Marina, who were enjoying their conversation and shrimp cocktails appetizers. She blurted, scarcely aware of the rasp of excitement in her own voice, “Here I am, straight off the plane. Where’s the love?”

Marina Carter squealed with laughter and rose to hug Laila tightly. “Oh, girl, you look great!” Genuine excitement radiated from her eyes as she peered into Laila’s face. Marina was a petite, yet voluptuous black woman with inquisitive eyes and a contagious smile. Her shoulder-length curly hair was tamed away from her face by beige-framed sunglasses resting on her head. Her sundress, a charming beige and light blue number with a matching cardigan that reminded Laila of her favorite elementary school teacher.

“And why shouldn’t I?” Laila’s silky voice held a challenge. “We’re in South Beach, right?”

“You know it!” An amused look suddenly warmed Marina’s eyes.

“Could you two take it down a few notches?” Dr. Sofìa Barea-Vega demanded. She remained seated and frowned before she forced a demure smile to the people seated next to them. “You’re causing a scene.”

Laila dismissed the reprimand with a wave of the hand and shot her best friend one of her mega-watt smiles, which caused Sofìa to roll her eyes and return her gaze to her menu. It was a far cry from the happy, attractive, vacationer Laila had hoped to find on this trip.

On the surface, Sofìa was a fashionable, smart dresser with a strong professional flare. She wore an orange halter top with bellowing white linen pants accented with a bold gold necklace, belt, and watch. Yet the happy colors were a strong contrast to the frown plastered to her face and the apparent weight loss to her alluding frame.

Laila took her place between her girlfriends, as Marina poured her a glass of Italian white wine. “I can see that someone’s high-profiled marriage is really doing a number on them. When did you start caring what other people think?”

Sofìa toyed with the appetizer in front of her, as if boredom overshadowed the faint hint of a worried brow. A sullen look on the very attractive Latina annoyed Laila because it was in direct contrast to the lively mood she and Marina were basking in. There was only one way to lift Sofia’s spirits. It had worked in college and she prayed it would work in this case.

Laila took a hearty sip of wine and sullied her face by drawing her perfectly plucked brows together. She made herself look as serious as possible as she squared her shoulders and winked at Marina to play along. Then she turned all of her attention toward their brooding best friend.

Laila lowered her voice to a volume just a hair above a whisper, being purposefully mysterious. “Could you do me a big favor, Sofìa?”

Sofìa looked up from the wine menu at Laila and Marina and concern washed over her features. Two deep lines of worry appeared between her eyes as she leaned forward and placed her hand on Laila’s forearm. “Anything, La La. What is it?”

“Could you please remove that painful stick from your behind because it’s destroying my sunny disposition?”

Marina laughed richly as Sofìa recoiled and crossed her arms under her breasts. “Oh, you got jokes, huh?”

Laila and Marina tossed back their heads and rocked with laughter like two high school teenagers as Sofìa sat rigid like a frustrated, overworked parent. It was amazing how frowning aged her about seven years.

“Not jokes . . . observations.” Laila brought her hand up to her mouth to stifle her giggle. “And, believe me, after our ultimate South Beach trip, you’ll have a different way of seeing things too.”

Sofìa returned her attention to her menu and began looking over the selections. “You think?” she asked in her usual disconnected medical voice.

“I know!” Laila composed herself as Marina signaled a waiter and gave Laila’s food order. “Hey, I get it. Sean ripped your heart out and kicked it like a football, but wearing a foul mood on a vacation is like wearing last year’s bathing suit after losing fifteen pounds. It’s totally non-supportive to the festive environment and unattractive to my eyes. Do I need to remind you of the Sofìa you were before he placed that ring on your finger? You were strong, confident, and—”

“I’m
still
strong and confident and whatever else is on the list.”

“And fun, Sofìa! You were a lot of fun! Don’t you remember how we celebrated in Florida after you got your residency in Chicago?”

Laila watched as recognition finally reached her friend’s eyes and warmed her face. “Yes, I do. We crashed the Gator Ball in Gainesville.” Sofìa bit her lip to stifle a grin, before she met Laila’s concerned gaze. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

“But it doesn’t have to be.” Laila continued to force Sofìa to loosen up. “We have two weeks to let our hair down and get back our feminine power. So we’re going to enjoy some much-needed relaxation by using men for our enjoyment. They will draw our baths, massage our bodies, and serve us wonderful food. By the time we step back into our lives our heads will be clear and focused.”

“Sound like a miracle,” Marina said, when Laila stole a shrimp from her appetizer.

“Let’s face the facts. Malcolm pulled the rug right out from under me. He gave me no warning, just a condo that reeked of dead fish. But I swallowed the pain, planned this vacation, and even helped my new sister-in-law, Caresse, with her wedding. I put on the face of normalcy for seven months and now I’m going to get my sexy back.”

“You go, girl!” Marina cheered as she raised her glass in sympathetic acknowledgement before taking a long sip of wine.

Laila nodded her appreciation and continued. “Girlfriends, it’ll be a cold day in hell before that dog gets a whiff of these panties again. I’m putting the whole situation behind me.”

“I guess I feel the same way about Sean,” Sofìa said, toying with a tendril of auburn hair that flowed from her center part.

“I say the hell with them!” Laila snapped. “They were lucky to have us for the time they did ‘cause we were the best thing to ever crossed their paths.” Laila lifted her glass and raised herself up on one elbow. “Let’s make a toast. Do the honors, Sofìa.”

Sofìa’s lips parted in surprise as she raised her glass along with Marina. “To the ultimate femencation; a time to enjoy luxury, sisterhood, and feminine power. To the ladies.”

“To the ladies!” Laila and Marina repeated and drank a sip of wine moments before their waiter set their dinner before them.

“I’m surprised you’re here today, Laila. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow morning. What happened? Did the wedding get canceled, or did they elope?” Marina asked before taking a bite of her herb-encrusted salmon.

“It was nothing like that. Graham and Caresse were married early this afternoon and I’m sure they’ll be celebrating with their guests until late tonight. They weren’t happy about me cutting out of there after their vows but my mind wasn’t in the right place to help them celebrate.”

“The wedding made you think of Malcolm?” Sofìa peered at her intensely.

Raising finely arched eyebrows, Laila exclaimed, “I’m happy for my big brother and his bride. They truly deserve each other. It’s just that not too long ago I was under the impression that Malcolm and I would be married by now, so their wedding was bittersweet at best.”

Sofìa grabbed Laila’s hand as Marina looked at her empathically. The mention of her own desire for marriage had hit a raw nerve that caused her face to get flushed and her throat to tighten. The pain of Malcolm’s betrayal was like a throbbing, raw nerve in need of Novocain.

Laila could feel the tears beginning to pool in her eyes so she quickly blinked them away. “I’m fine, guys, really. It’s the past and there’s no need to bring it up now, right?”

“Right, but if you need to talk about it, we’re here, La La,” Sofìa stated as she gave her a tissue from her purse. “I know better than anyone how it feels to be betrayed. Never in a million years did I think Sean could disrespect our marriage by cheating on me, but he did. Like your situation, he didn’t apologize or even face me. He just avoided me and forced me to deal with him through my lawyer.”

“Maybe he thought his good guy, celebrity image wouldn’t be tainted if he kept his distance,” Marina injected, the moment Sofìa smoothed a few of Laila’s ebony tresses behind her ear. “Who knows how the media would react if they found out one of Chicago’s sexiest men was divorcing because of his indiscretions.”

“I don’t care about the media’s perception of him. He owes his wife an explanation. That’s the most humane thing to do,” Sofìa snapped. She’d missed the questioning gaze that passed between her friends.

Laila composed herself and squared her shoulders. “Don’t hold your breath. If he hasn’t given you a reason in eight months, he’s not going to give you one now,” she stated firmly before she took a bite of the lobster Marina had ordered for her. “Didn’t you have a prenuptial agreement?”

“Yeah, and the divorce should be finalized in a few weeks because of the adultery clause.”

“You had an adultery cause?” Marina gasped and quickly took a sip of her water. “How did you get him to agree to that?”

Sofìa took one hand to shield her mouth from view since she was chewing her meal. “It wasn’t that hard because I had to agree to abide by it, too. All it stated was the party that is proved to have committed adultery forfeits all rights to the marital residence and its furnishing and must vacant the property immediately upon the filing of a divorce petition by the other party.”

“Wow, that’s the legal equivalency of tossing his clothes out onto the lawn and changing the locks.” Laila watched Sofìa play with her seafood pasta. “He didn’t put up a fight about leaving?”

“I never asked him to leave. Once I learned about his affair, I returned home to confront him. Then I discovered he had removed all of his clothing and sports paraphernalia from our home. I guess someone tipped him off.”

“What about the money?” Marina inquired, her brilliant black-button eyes fixed on Sofìa. “Did he clean you out?”

“No, we have a ‘spiteful act’ penalty clause in our agreement that doesn’t allow either party to close or move accounts until the finalization of the divorce. Besides, Sean and I never shared bank accounts. He had his, I had mine, and the household accounts were paid from a third account we both put money into.”

Laila began to reach for a dinner roll when thoughts of being in a bathing suit stopped her cold. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m taking each day as it comes and I’m only dealing with him when my lawyer requires it. As you can see, there was nothing merry about last year’s Christmas for me.”

“Me, either,” she replied. “But this is the beginning of a new year, so we’re going to start it right.”

“That’s right!” Marina beamed. “First, we enjoy this time together as girlfriends, then you two can help me start my married life with David.”

A low moan escaped Sofìa’s lips as Laila watched her leer at Marina.

“What’s going on?” Laila asked when she noticed Sofìa’s aggravated expression.

“Sofìa is mad that I won’t make David sign a prenuptial agreement. But I told her those things are for rich people.”

“No, it’s for smart people,” Sofìa corrected her. “Laila, didn’t you tell me Graham and Caresse have one?”

“Yup. He didn’t want to, but since Caresse had been through one long, drawn-out divorce already, they wanted to make sure if something happened, they’d both be protected from any vengeful acts.”

As the conversation continued, Laila relaxed as her New Jersey responsibilities drifted from her mind. Being with Sofìa and Marina brought back the warmer memories of their college days when the world was filled with promise. Ten years ago, the three of them had strolled across the University of Florida podium and said goodbye to the college life they’d shared together. Promises of emails, frequent visits, and phone calls lessened the distance as the years molded their lives in different parts of the country. Each year they made a point to reconnect their group to strengthen their bond and dedication to each other, and this year would be no different. There may be a few hearts to heal but nothing mends the spirit like a deep and abiding friendship.

Malcolm Khalid was stirred from slumber by a sudden weight thrown over his back. As his mind reeled, he opened his eyes, and tried to focus on the clock on his nightstand. 3 AM. He cast his eyes at the dimly lit candles on the far side of the room and noticed the soft music pouring from the CD console beyond his desk lamp. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the weight on his back was a body part of his latest companion.