Two Nights in Paris

by Delaney Diamond

  Betty coughed into the handkerchief in her hand. She’d caught a summer cold that she struggled to shake. Each time she thought it was gone, it returned a week later.

  “You’re mighty chipper today,” Betty said, eyeing Roselle.

  “I’m always chipper.”

  “Not like this. You have a lot more pep in your step lately. You’re different.”

  A few of the employees at work had made similar comments. She felt different, but what did they see?

  “How am I different?” Roselle asked, sitting in the chair beside her aunt.

  Her aunt pursed her lips as she thought. “You laugh more. In general, your spirits seem up. I can’t put my finger on exactly when I noticed the change. Wait, I know! I noticed the change in you not too long after you returned from Paris.”

  “Then I guess you can say Paris changed me.”

  Not just Paris. Her transformation started there and continued stateside after she and Stephan continued to see each other, make love, talk, share, and laugh.

  Right now, he was in New York with Marcus, checking out the SJ Brands showrooms, meeting with staff, and learning more about retail merchandising. She missed him so much. He might have an ego the size of Jupiter, but he treated her with such care, making her feel special and wanted in a way she hadn’t before. Or at least she’d never allowed herself to feel because she’d been too busy protecting herself from opening up to anyone so she’d avoid pain. She didn’t have to worry about that with him.

  Stephan pushed and pushed hard, past her boundaries and into the cracks and crevices of her heart. He made her uncomfortable while putting her at ease, and for the first time in a long time, she felt alive. Really alive, like she wasn’t merely going through the motions. She wanted more of that, more of him.

  “Paris, huh?” her aunt asked with a heavy dose of skepticism on her face.

  “Yes, Paris.” Roselle handed Betty her latest gift. The small box contained a pair of gloves that had been discontinued because they didn’t sell well, but they were a lovely shade of pink, a color her aunt adored.

  “Don’t try to distract me with your gift. I’ll get to that later. I want to know what has you giggling and smiling all the time. What in the world happened in Paris?”

  Roselle folded her arms. “Why are you all up in my business, auntie?”

  “Because I know you have something juicy to tell me, and you better go on ahead and tell me before I pop you upside the head.”

  Roselle heaved an exaggerated heavy sigh. “Okay, I’ll tell you about Paris. Promise not to judge.”

  “Honey, when have I ever judged you?”

  While the remark sounded like a throwaway comment, her ability to reserve judgment had been what saved Roselle’s mental health years ago. Her support and acts of kindness ensured Roselle did not feel alone in the world during the toughest period of her life.

  “Never,” Roselle answered.

  She launched into the story about what happened between her and Stephan in Paris, fading to black on the parts where she spent the nights in his arms. She also told her aunt about their current relationship and how much she enjoyed spending time with him.

  “Well, this Stephan sounds like quite a character.”

  Roselle laughed. “He is, but he’s not as bad as he comes across. I’m not sure he realizes what a kind soul he is.”

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “In love?” Roselle shook her head vigorously. “No way. I’m having fun and enjoying myself.”

  “I know what love looks like, baby. The question is, how serious is this relationship? If it ended tomorrow, will you be okay?”

  She didn’t want to think about their relationship ending and honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. The very thought pained her so much that her mind constantly skittered away from the possibility of losing Stephan. If that happened, running into him at work would be unbearable.

  “I’m sure I’ll be okay,” she said to her aunt. She forced a bright smile, but her aunt had always told her she saw through all of her false emotions. Her eyes were too expressive. They truly were the window to her soul.

  “I’m not saying you can’t enjoy yourself, because you definitely deserve it. You work hard, you take care of me and make sure that I have everything I need—”

  “I’m happy to do it. You took care of me, and we’re family. We have each other.”

  Betty coughed into the handkerchief again. “We do have each other, and that will never change. I know that you’re happy to take care of me, but what I’m saying is, are you emotionally prepared to have the kind of relationship you deserve? Will you tell him everything?”

  She’d already thought about it and wanted to tell Stephan about the rape and what she went through as a result—being ostracized by friends and people she cared about. Her own mother had turned her back.

  But did she and Stephan really have that kind of relationship? Sharing something so personal was not easy. It took her years to work up the courage to talk to a therapist about her ordeal, instead crawling into herself and staying away from other people.

  Therapy helped her understand her misplaced guilt, and how it kept her in a protective shell—to never make a mistake, so there would be no consequences afterward. If she told Stephan, he might feel the same as other people did. He might blame her, too. He might say she used poor judgment that night, and if he looked at her in that way, she couldn’t take it.

  “You don’t have to rush,” Betty said gently.

  “I know. But the truth is, I’m not sure we’ll last, and I don’t want to drop that bomb into our relationship.”

  Three years ago, she opened up to her boyfriend at the time because she’d been called to testify in a case where Charles’s widow was the defendant. While her boyfriend didn’t come right out and blame her, he asked the usual questions.

  You barely knew him, so why did you leave with him?

  What did you think was going to happen?

  Their relationship became strained. Then she took the stand at the trial. More guilt closed in. Tight. Suffocating. Could she have done something to prevent those other women from being hurt? How many others were there? After a time, she stopped eating.

  Sylvie Johnson didn’t know it, but she helped her through that tough period. Her aunt gave her love and compassion, but Sylvie showed her how to be strong.

  “You can’t control what people say, but you can control how you react to their words. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel bad about yourself.”

  She went back into therapy, changed her clothes, changed her hair, started eating again. It took time, but she gradually returned to her former self.

  “Do you trust him?” her aunt asked.

  Did she? If she had to ask, maybe she didn’t.

  “I’m not sure.” The truth was, she didn’t trust anyone completely, except her aunt.

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt, so if you’re not sure, then you should definitely wait.”

  Her throat tightened, and she sat back in the chair.

  “I didn’t mean to bring you down, baby.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I want you to be safe. I want you to stop hiding and have the happiness you deserve. It’s long overdue.”

  “I am happy. Stephan makes me happy.”

  “Good.”

  “He, um, he invited me to the opening of a lounge in Charlotte. His cousin Trenton and his wife Alannah are going to be there. Trenton invested in the club and opened it with one of their fraternity brothers. Stephan’s flying up there in a couple of weeks and wants me to go with him. I want to, but…I don’t know.”

  “You should go, baby.”

  “We’ll be gone all weekend.”

  “And?” Betty tutted. “You better not turn him down because you have to come see me. Isn’t that why I’m in this nursing home? So someone can always keep an eye on me when you’re not around?” She coughed into the handkerchief.
“Take a weekend off from sitting with your old wrinkly aunt. If that man is inviting you to meet his family, he must be serious about you.”

  “I don’t know if he is, but I’m nervous.”

  “Nothing to be nervous about. And by the way, when you get back, I want to meet Mr. Stephan, who has my niece grinning from ear to ear so often.”

  “You’re not going to give him a hard time, are you?” Roselle asked teasingly. She took her aunt’s hand in hers.

  “Maybe a little bit.”

  They both laughed.

  “I want you to meet him, too,” Roselle said quietly.

  Betty squeezed her hand. “Go to Charlotte and have fun. Do all the things I wish I had done when I was your age. Have fun for the both of us. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Roselle was excited about the trip, but her aunt had given her food for thought. Her feelings for Stephan ran very deep. She could very well be in love with him already, as her aunt suggested.

  But how did he feel about her?

  Chapter 21

  Roselle wished her belly would cooperate.

  She walked beside Stephan from the car to the building entrance, tugging on her dress and wondering if she should have worn something else. No matter how down to earth Stephan said his cousin and wife were, she wanted to make a good impression. Yet there was absolutely no reason why she should be this nervous about meeting Stephan’s family. Except doing so was a big step, particularly since they’d never been out in public as a couple. He was worried about his mother finding out about them, and so was she. She didn’t think Sylvie would appreciate one of her employees having an affair with her son.

  Usually, Roselle went over to Stephan’s place, and they ate dinner together or watched a movie in his theater room. Somehow he managed to get advanced screenings of a couple of films weeks before they hit the theaters. If they stayed up late playing video games—during which he mercilessly kicked her ass—he’d call the concierge service and have them arrange delivery of a late-night snack and drinks and then they’d be good to go for another couple of hours.

  A few times they hung out with his brother Reese and his latest female friend at the indoor pool or ate dinner at the island in the kitchen. Roselle had become good friends with Paula, the house manager, and thought the love-hate relationship between her and Stephan was hilarious, though at times he did not.

  They entered the lounge, christened The Underground Charlotte because Seattle already had a The Underground, and Roselle’s mouth fell open. Stephan had shown her the before photos. They’d done a fantastic job renovating the old warehouse because the building looked nothing like a warehouse now. It didn’t have the same atmosphere as the club they went to in France. On the contrary, there was a more relaxed vibe, with the DJ playing old-school R&B and the small, assembled crowd mostly bobbing their heads.

  Purple and blue lights made the dark interior glow, assisted by a line of outrageously large chandeliers that ran the length of the building. One half of one wall was a long bar with backless stools lit up from the floor with iridescent blue lights. There was a dance floor, plenty of tables, and lounging areas filled with circular sofas and soft-cushioned chairs.

  Overall, the trendy, contemporary design was the perfect meeting place for an after-work crowd or the weekend crowd looking for low-key fun to get into.

  Since the place wasn’t packed yet, they quickly found Stephan’s cousin, Trenton, and his wife, Alannah. They sat on one of the circular sofas, facing the dance floor. Trenton rested his arm on the back of the chair and was leaning in, talking to his wife. Roselle didn’t have a good view of him from her vantage point as they approached, but the minute Stephan came into Trenton’s line of sight, he jumped up from the sofa.

  “Look who dragged himself from Atlanta!” He pulled Stephan into a hug.

  Stephan chuckled. “Yeah, right. I leave Atlanta all the time. When was the last time you left Seattle?”

  “I leave all. The. Time. This must be Roselle. Nice to meet you.”

  Wow. She was blown away by Trenton’s looks. If she weren’t already halfway in love with Stephan, she could have easily fallen under his cousin’s spell. He was seriously good-looking, had the same roguish smile as Stephan and what seemed to be green eyes, but it was hard to tell in the darkness of the club.

  “Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand.

  “And who is this beautiful lady?” Stephan asked.

  He pulled Alannah to her feet and into his embrace. Alannah was light-skinned, with her long, auburn hair secured on top of her head in a loose top knot.

  Stephan stepped back and surveyed his cousin’s wife with a grin on his face. “Look at you,” he said.

  She placed a hand on her expanded waistline. “Yes, look at me. I’m huge. Five months pregnant and everyone thinks I’m at least seven.” She sighed.

  “What are you having again?”

  “We decided we didn’t want to know the gender of the baby,” she replied.

  “By we, she means she,” Trenton said.

  “I like the idea of being surprised,” she conceded.

  “Are you doing one of those gender-reveal parties?” Roselle asked.

  “Absolutely not. I had to put my foot down somewhere,” Trenton said.

  Alanna rolled her eyes. “I’m still working on him.” She directed a sweet smile at her husband.

  Right as Trenton opened his mouth to respond, one of their frat brothers let out a Kappa Alpha Sigma call. No less than twelve men responded, including Stephan and Trenton. The dance floor then became the center of attention as men poured from various corners of the club.

  “Ladies, if you will excuse us,” Trenton said.

  “Keep an eye on my baby,” Stephan said to Alannah, before hurrying off.

  Both women sat down on the sofa and watched the men do the Kappa Alpha Sigma stroll on the dance floor—a series of moves that included shoulder shimmies, gyrating hips, and letting their tongues hang out suggestively.

  “So how did you meet Stephan?” Alannah asked.

  Now that they were seated together, Roselle noticed the freckles sprinkled on her nose.

  “We work together.”

  “Oh.” Alannah frowned. “Stephan works?”

  “Yes. He works at SJ Brands headquarters in the business development department.”

  “I had no idea. I’m sure Trenton knows, but he didn’t mention it.”

  “How did you and Trenton meet?”

  Alannah rubbed her belly, a soft smile on her lips. “Long story. We’ve known each other since we were kids and were friends for years. Eventually, we moved past being friends.”

  “So you’ve known Stephan for a long time, too?”

  “Oh yeah. I was practically part of the family, so I went on trips with them and I know Ella and Simone and Reese—everyone, really well.”

  Roselle fell silent. The Kappa Alpha Sigmas were now chanting and throwing up hand signs, their loud voices overshadowing the music.

  “Something you want to ask me?” Alannah asked.

  There was, but she didn’t know Alannah at all and didn’t know if the question was appropriate.

  “You can ask. I promise it’ll stay between us.”

  After a brief hesitation, Roselle asked, “Okay, what were Stephan’s other girlfriends like?”

  “Honestly… I don’t know that he’s had other girlfriends. Not serious ones, anyway. I’ve met other women at a party here and there, but… I wouldn’t call them girlfriends, and they’d never come to anything like this. He likes to go to places where he can show off and show them off.”

  “Oh.” Roselle’s shoulders slumped.

  “No, no, no. You’re taking what I said the wrong way.” Alannah placed a reassuring hand on Roselle’s wrist. “I mean that this event might be too low-key for the women he typically hangs around, and maybe I’m wrong, but you seem kind of quiet.”

  “I am,” Roselle admitted.

  “Tha
t’s what I thought. So he’s probably likely to stay here longer with you, but if you were a different type of person, he’d swing through, show his face to be supportive—maybe post a few pics on Instagram—and then leave again.” Alannah leaned in. “Can I tell you something else?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve never heard him call any other woman ‘my baby.’”

  “Never?” Roselle asked, a quick thrill running through her.

  “Never,” Alannah assured her. Then she slid back into her own space.

  Too bad Alannah didn’t live in Atlanta. Roselle had a feeling they’d get along well.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at my cousin,” Stephan said from the bathroom, where he had the door open and was brushing his teeth. He had rented a suite at one of the luxury hotels in downtown Charlotte.

  “What?” Roselle looked up from the iPad in her hand, where she lay under the covers.

  After Stephan and his frat brothers kicked off the party, other people went out onto the dance floor. A little after midnight, the place became packed, the music was hot, and the drinks were flowing. Stephan deejayed for a bit, and then Roselle joined him and the other lounge-goers on the dance floor.

  The relaxed atmosphere made it easy to mingle and talk, and their corner was a hotspot where folks came and chilled for a while, had a few drinks and good conversation, and then moved on. They left after two in the morning and joined Alannah and Trenton for pancakes and waffles at a local eatery before going their separate ways.

  The plan was to spend Saturday and Sunday morning sightseeing before flying back to Atlanta Sunday afternoon.

  “You have a type,” Stephan said, speaking over brushing his teeth.

  “I do not.”

  “Your favorite rappers are T.I. and LL Cool J. You like Michael Ealy and also love—your word—Kendrick Sampson. Tonight you were drooling over my cousin. Coincidence? I think not. I rest my case.”

  She giggled. “That doesn’t mean I have a type.”

  “Uh-huh.” He turned off the light and came into the room, completely naked and thoroughly confident. He always slept naked and wanted her to do the same. Sometimes she indulged him when it was right after they made love, but otherwise, she wore a nightshirt or one of his many T-shirts to sleep in. Tonight she was going to sleep in her underwear, and one of his old T-shirts emblazoned with the words: If I said you have a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?