“Hmmm, looks good,” he says, smiling as he sits down and removes the tops from the dishes.
“Uh, Damon, what are you doing here?” I ask as I try to squeeze behind him and slip into the other seat. Once seated, I adjust the robe to make sure I am fully covered. I’m suddenly mindful of what happened the last time we were in a hotel room together.
“I’m here for the wedding,” he says as he butters a slice of toast and looks out into the ocean. The stubble on his cheeks is so sexy. Why haven’t I ever noticed that before? “Man, it’s beautiful here.”
“You were invited?” I ask as I pick up the carafe and pour myself a cup of tea and then add a couple of cubes of brown sugar. “Viv didn’t tell me that.”
“So how’s business? Did that lawyer I recommended work out?” he asks, ignoring my comment.
“Oh, yeah, Chris is brilliant. We’re working together very well.”
“Good. I told him to take extra-special care of you.”
“Thank you,” I say, suddenly feeling a little shy.
“I like your hair,” he says, reaching across the table to brush back one of the curly tendrils. I try not to stare at the muscles flexing in his strong arms and the T-shirt fitted across his broad chest.
“Oh, thanks,” I say. “Just something I thought I’d try on vacation.”
“It’s cute,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say again, still confused about why he’s here.
“I read in the paper that you signed that kid Jared. That’s big, right?”
“Yeah. Huge, actually.” When he brought up my most famous client I started talking excitedly about the new business, my plans for expansion, and the great meetings I had lined up once I returned to L.A. He smiles at me as if he knew I could do it all along, and then gives me the name of a good accountant to help with my billing. When I ask him about things at Global, he tells me things are going well and that he’ll probably be heading soon to Singapore for a few weeks on a new deal.
“Oh, really,” I say, trying hard not to sound disappointed. After my dad’s funeral Damon and I spoke a lot on the phone. We hadn’t seen each other because he seemed to always be flying back and forth to the home office in New York and I was working around the clock on the new business plan. He had given me a lot of valuable advice and hooked me up with some key contacts. He never asked me what happened with Garrett, so I never mentioned it. I wanted to know if he was seeing anyone but didn’t think I had any right to ask. After all, we were just friends, right?
“How’s Amaya doing?” he asks when I tell him that I’m representing her now.
“She’s good. I’ve lined up some good meetings for her when we get back to L.A. I really think with the right representation that girl is going to go places,” I say and laugh to myself.
“Yeah, she always was a star, even if it was only in her own mind back in the day,” he says and chuckles. He leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. His T-shirt creeps up to expose his hard stomach and the dark trail of hair leading down into his boxers. Damn, it’s hot out here. I feel my nipples harden and I know he can see through the thin material of the robe. I need to put some damn clothes on. I excuse myself from the table and then try to make my way around his chair. As I try to pass he reaches out and grabs my arm and pulls me onto his lap. The bottom half of the robe falls open. I try to close it as much as I can to cover up the tops of my thighs. Something hard pokes into one of my thighs.
“Damon, what are you doing?” I ask.
“What does it feel like I’m doing?” he asks as he nuzzles my neck and his hands slip under the robe. “Mmm, you smell good.” I am finding it hard to think clearly but know I need to get up before we start something that neither one of us can finish. I try to get up but he holds me in place.
“Why are you always running away from me,” he says softly in my ear. “Just stay still for a minute. Just stay still for a minute.” I can feel his heart beating rapidly through his T-shirt. I am sure mine is beating just as fast. Suddenly, I feel one of his hands opening the robe and pushing it off my shoulders. Damon continues to caress my breasts and tenderly kiss my shoulders and then moves up to my waiting mouth. I savor his lips by tracing the fullness with my tongue. I think we are going to get something started when I feel him fiddling with something in his pants.
“What are you doing, Damon?” I say, trying to twist around to see. When I look down, he’s pulled a small, weathered leather box from his pocket along with a folded-up piece of newspaper.
“What’s that?” I ask, my voice catching in my throat.
“I told you that I had some unfinished business to take care of,” he says as he places the box in my hand and begins to unfold the paper. What is he talking about?
“I don’t understand,” I say and push back behind my ear the hair that had fallen in my eyes. “What is this?”
“Something that belongs to you,” he says, tipping up my chin with his finger to make me look into his eyes. “Open it.”
I take a deep breath and open the small box that looks a little beat up. Inside, tucked into a black velvet lining, is a small diamond ring.
“I don’t understand,” I say, looking up at him and back at the ring.
“Look at the lid on the box,” he says. I don’t have my contacts in, so I squint to read the gold foil lettering on the inside of the box.
“Mitchell’s Jewelry?” I read. “Why does that name sound familiar?” He doesn’t answer me as I repeat the name softly. Then I remember. Mitchell’s was the name of the little jewelry store that Damon worked at our senior year in college. But why would he have a ring from there?
“Mitchell’s is still open?” I ask, still confused.
“No, they closed a couple of years after we graduated,” he says and he smiles, enjoying my confusion.
“Well, I don’t understand, then. How did you get this ring?”
“You know, for a big-time businesswoman you aren’t very bright sometimes,” he says jokingly as he kisses my neck and takes the ring from the box. Then he holds up the piece of newspaper so that I can read it. It’s a yellowing front page of the newspaper he started in college with the large headline TRISTA, WILL YOU MARRY ME? Holding up the ring for me to see, he then says, “I bought this ring eleven years ago, made up this copy of my newspaper, and planned to propose to you on our last night together.”
“What?” I can’t believe what he is saying. “Oh my God, Damon. I can’t…” I choke back tears.
“Now, I’ve held on to this ring for eleven years, and I flew out here to give it to you. Like I said, it belongs to you,” Damon says as he takes the ring out of the box and slips it on my finger. “Trista, when I saw you last year I realized I never stopped loving you. I thought I was over you, but I never stopped loving you. But I also realized there were some things that you needed to do for yourself before you could fully make room for me in your life. And I didn’t want to crowd you. I know what happened last year with that girl was crazy. But please believe me when I tell you that we had broken up before the wedding and I swear I had no idea she was going to fly out there. And I certainly didn’t plan for us to sleep together. But when I saw you again I just couldn’t stay away. And later, I hated seeing you with Garrett, especially since I knew he’d never appreciate you. Not the real you, like I do. I know we’re meant to be together.”
“That’s over, Damon,” I say. “That’s all over.” I leave out most of the details but confess to him that Garrett and I have broken up because I found out he was gay. Even if Garrett didn’t believe he was gay, I did.
“Wow,” he says, shaking his head at this new information about Garrett.
I can barely see him through the tears welling in my eyes. I put my hands on the sides of his face and bring his lips down to mine and kiss him. I love this man, I think to myself. I’ve always loved this man.
“Trista Tanya Gordon, will you marry me?” Damon asks as he brings my fingers up to his l
ips and kisses them one by one, and I let my tears fall onto his shoulder. I can’t believe this is happening. It all feels like a dream that is too good to be true.
He picks me up and carries me into the bedroom and kicks the patio door closed behind him. Placing me gently on the bed, he stands over me and looks into my eyes and then unties my robe and opens it. Looking down at me he quickly takes off his clothes and then lies on top of me. I am ready for him. I had never wanted him so badly. I open my legs to welcome him but he won’t kiss me.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, looking deeply into my eyes, searching for an answer. He raises himself up on his outstretched arms. “Will you marry me, Trista?”
“Yes, Damon. Yes, I’ll marry you,” I say, still crying softly as I arch my body up to meet him. He slips a condom on quickly and then slides into me as my nails tease his back and shoulders. I wrap my legs tightly around his waist.
“Trista, I love you,” he moans in my ear.
“I love you, too, baby,” I say as I grab his face. “Look at me, Damon. I love you, Damon. I’ve always loved you.”
“Oh, Trista,” he says as he grips the bed’s headboard to brace himself as he thrusts deeply inside me and we make love.
After our breathing returns to normal, he pulls one of the sheets up over our bodies and then rests his head on my breast. I stroke his hair with one hand and stare at the ring on my left hand with what I am sure is a stupid grin on my face.
“What are you looking at?” he asks playfully as he kisses my breast.
“I’m looking at the most beautiful ring in the world,” I say as I turn my hand to admire it from different angles.
“Well, actually I thought that when we got back to L.A. we could go and pick out something more appropriate. That ring was just the only thing I could afford back in the day. Besides, I wouldn’t want your girls to clown you over this diamond dust.”
“Are you crazy?” I say, pushing his head off of my breast so I can sit up in the bed. “This is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen in my life and I’ll never take it off.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at me. “I mean, I’m not tripping if you want something else. You know, a brother’s got a little change now, so we can go to one of those fancy jewelers when we get back to L.A. if you want.”
I throw my leg over his body and straddle him, moving my hips around suggestively.
“Damon Jackson Reynolds, this is the ring that you bought me eleven years ago when you first wanted to marry me, and this is the ring I’m going to wear forever,” I say, looking into his eyes. “This little ring means more to me than anything else we could pick out today.” I lean in to nibble on his lower lip, biting gently.
“I guess my wife has spoken,” he says and then falls back against a pillow and closes his eyes.
“You’re damn right,” I say. “You’re damn right.”
20
AMAYA
Goddamn technology,” I mumble under my breath as I swipe my electronic room key through the slot for the third time. At the sound of the lock finally clicking open, I push down the handle, shove open the door, and release a loud sigh of relief. The last thing I am in the mood to do right now is walk all the way down to the front desk to haggle with the night manager for a replacement key card.
As soon as I enter the room I place my half-empty glass of bubbly on the nightstand and kick off my copper-colored, strappy Anne Klein Collection sandals. The cool clay tiles provide an unspeakable relief to the burning balls of my feet. Whoever coined the phrase “cuteness kills” ain’t never lied. But although I’d like to blame the slow, throbbing sensation on poorly fitting shoes, I know it’s really just the price I have to pay for dancing the night away at yesterday’s preceremony celebration. I was getting my grind on to Beenie Man with Sean’s handsome baby cousin Frank from Maryland. I swear that little twenty-one-yearold wore my old behind out on the dance floor!
A soft breeze wafts the strong scent of the Caribbean through the bungalow’s open window, and I follow the stream of moonlight over to the window. There’s nothing quite so beautiful as the sight of a full moon in the islands; it makes the soft hair on my arms stand at attention. I slowly rub my arms to try and settle them down. Vivian and Sean are truly blessed with a perfect night.
Once my feet cool off somewhat, I turn and drift into the bathroom—time to touch up the face. After spending the previous afternoon lounging on the beach, debating baby names with Elise, I really don’t need more than eyeliner, mascara, and a fresh coat of gloss to accentuate my sun-kissed look. This is definitely going to be a quick touch-and-go. As I sit down at the vanity I’m relieved to see that the humidity hasn’t completely ruined the sweeping wave effect that frames my face. I can hear the sounds of the band jamming and people celebrating in the distance. For such an intimate little party, we sure are a loud group of folks. But, then again, considering the sort of year it’s been for everyone—especially Vivian, Trista, and me—there’s certainly a lot to celebrate and be loud about. The events of the past two months replay themselves like a runaway train in my mind…
IT WASN’T UNTIL almost the end of the second week at the Better Day Spa that the bruises on my neck and arm finally faded. By then I had decided it was time to call Benita and share the details of my confrontation with Keith. For the first time in two years I was absolutely sure of the status of my relationship with Keith: it was over. It might break her heart to hear the news, but as for me, personally, I was more than okay with it.
“Hey, Benita,” I greeted her when she finally answered the phone.
“Amaya, darling! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you!” she responded, the sound of undeniable happiness still apparent in her voice.
“Can’t your only child give you a call?” I snipped before I could catch myself.
“No need to be smart. Of course you can call me. I’m just surprised is all.”
“I’m sorry. I was actually calling to share some news with you,” I softly apologized.
“Let me guess, Keith popped the question, didn’t he? I knew he’d come around!”
“Actually… no. More like Keith shook the hell out of me and threw me around my very own apartment. Not quite a proposal, huh?”
“What?” she gasped. “Has he lost his mind?”
“Long story short, I hired a private investigator to follow his wife to dig up some dirt on her. And, basically, I discovered that she was having an affair… with a woman. When I confronted Keith with the information, he flipped out on me,” I rushed through the story.
“Goodness, I thought that story in Tattleteller was completely fabricated,” she gasped. “But I simply cannot believe he had the nerve to put his hands on you over a woman that’s cheating on him with another woman. He’s trash. I’m so sorry that this happened to you. It’s no secret that in the past I’ve been a fan of Keith’s, but this is unacceptable.”
“It’s fine. I just thought you should know what’s going on.”
“Well, certainly you’re going to be fine. After all, you’re my daughter. And there are plenty of other men out there besides Keith. In fact, our new neighbors have a son who works in finance…”
“Um, thanks but no thanks, Benita,” I quickly cut her off. “I think it’s time for me to put more energy into loving Amaya and a lot less into looking for Mr. Right.”
“Well, of course, dear, of course. I was only just trying to be helpful…”
“You know what, Benita? For once I actually believe that you genuinely were trying to help, and I appreciate that. I’m going to be okay,” I say with the most conviction I’ve ever felt in my life. “I’ll call you soon. Take care… Mom.”
“Yes, well, you take care, sweetheart,” Benita answered softly.
AS SOON AS I returned to Los Angeles I did something ’d been promising myself for years—I fired Clarence’s trifling behind. If I was making a fresh start, this was the right place to
start. Honestly, it felt like a rebirth. The sight of Clarence choking in disbelief as I walked out of his office is a memory I’ll always treasure.
“What, what, what do you mean I’m fired?” he stammered, jumping to his feet and clutching his chest like my decision was going to give him another heart attack.
“J-J-Just what I said, Clarence,” I spitefully mimicked as I stood holding the copy of my contract that he’d so kindly provided moments before. “Your ass is fired.” As I walked out past his assistant, I flipped her the middle finger for good measure.
Then I called an emergency girls night at my apartment where I confessed everything that had happened with Troy, Trixie, and Keith. They were incredulous. “I cannot believe that fool put his hands on you,” screeched Trista, leaping up from my chaise.
“Girl, please. You know he was the devil,” I calmly responded as I sipped on my glass of merlot. “Don’t even bother getting yourself worked up—or, worse, spill that red wine—over it.”
“I knew Keith wasn’t about shit, but damn—Troy?! What a bunch of little punks,” fumed Vivian, picking at her salad. Since her engagement to Sean, Viv had gone hardcore healthy to tone up for her big day.
“Hey, y’all, it’s fine,” I insisted. Matter of fact, I might need to send both of those fools a thank-you card.”
“I hear that,” said Viv between bites.
“It’s just so crazy. This whole time you were away I thought you were probably worried sick about Keith, and now I come to find out this mess,” mumbled Trista, still pacing.
“I’m just mad that I wasted my Vow on two Negroes who ain’t worth the spit coming out of their mouths,” I said. “And y’all know how I feel about losing.”
“Girl, please, you ain’t the only one,” started Trista, finally snapping out of her mental tirade. “But at the end of the day, you’ve gotta focus on everything you do have. Your career is about to blow up, you’ve got your health, and we’re all behind you. Surely Keith and Troy are not going to be the last men in your life.”
The Vow Page 34