by A. C. Arthur
Kemp, the Golds’ long-time butler, came into the foyer at that moment. “I’ll take your coats.” The very slim, older gentleman with smooth almond-toned skin appeared as fit as any of them, even though she knew from Maurice he was in his late seventies. He’d been with the Golds for decades.
“Hi, Kemp.” She gave him her coat, but her attention was still attuned to Major, who was staring at her with an odd look on his very handsome face. Even though they were fraternal twins, there was a close resemblance between him and Maurice.
Since Major no longer worked at RGF full-time—he and Nina ran their own company, the Gold Service, on the outskirts of the city—she hadn’t seen him this week.
Yet, the grin he was giving Desta right now was definitely a knowing one.
After Kemp took Maurice’s jacket, she leaned over and whispered in Maurice’s ear. “Does Major know about us?”
Maurice’s response was a glare in Major’s direction and dismissive shake of his head. “No. But come on inside, we might as well get this over with.”
Yes, they might as well—as in this was going to be a very long evening.
“Oh, this is gonna be good.” She heard Major’s comment from behind them and refused to look back.
The Gold twins could be quite an annoying pair when they were together. Normally, she wasn’t bothered by their inside jokes or suspicious looks during their monthly poker games, but tonight she wasn’t in the mood for the tag-team effect. It was going to take all her practiced calm to get through the always-scrutinizing gaze of Marva Gold.
“There you are, Desta. I was wondering when you were going to get here. I told Riley you’re never late.” Speaking of the matriarch of the Gold family, Marva came toward her the moment Desta stepped into the family room.
Wearing winter-white trousers, a shimmering rose-colored blouse and nude pumps, the woman was the fashion industry’s Black royalty. Impeccably dressed, pleasantly composed and timelessly beautiful. She had the same tawny complexion as Maurice, and her thick silver-streaked hair hung in big neat curls to her shoulders while diamond earrings glittered at her ears.
“No, ma’am, I would never be late for your Sunday dinner. I had a few reports to finish up before I left, and there was some traffic.” Her words died as Marva embraced her.
The woman always smelled fantastic, no matter the fragrance she chose. Marva was such a contrast from Desta’s mother, who usually smelled like the hospital where she still worked twelve-to fourteen-hour shifts four days a week.
“I want you to stop working so hard. You’re too young and too pretty to have your face buried in papers and that computer all the time.”
Not used to extra attention from Marva, Desta quickly glanced around the room. She could see RJ—or Ronald Jr.—standing near the classic grand piano, a drink already in hand. Ron Gold Sr., RJ’s older and wiser look-alike, sat astutely on one of the two ivory-colored couches in the room, while Nina and Riley were already parked in the taupe side chairs. Riley’s fiancé, Chaz, stood near her, holding a drink that looked to be the same as RJ’s. So, the gang was definitely all here.
“Are you all right, Desta?” Marva asked, the hint of concern in her tone so noticeable, just about everyone in the room paused their conversation to look in her direction.
Major came around at that moment, talking as he made his way across the room. “She’s fine, Mom. Stop hovering. After driving all the way out here with Maurice, she’s probably just a little windblown. You know how he likes to speed through traffic.”
If she were closer she would’ve punched him in the arm. Not only was she certain Major knew something about her and Maurice—even if Maurice hadn’t confirmed it—but his remark about Maurice speeding immediately touched a nerve with her now that she knew about the car accident with India. She pasted on a smile. “I’m good, Mrs. Gold, really. Just trying to get back in the swing of things after being away last weekend.”
“Oh,” Riley said, her tone a bit too perky, “you were out of town last weekend, too? When I finally heard from Maurice last Sunday night, he said he was away on a ski trip. Where’d you go?”
Wishing for a hole to open up in the floor right now and swallow her was probably too much to ask for, but Desta wasn’t looking to Maurice for help. Brushing the strands of hair she’d flat-ironed a couple hours earlier behind her ears, she squared her shoulders and looked Riley directly in the eye. “You know, it was the strangest thing. I had this brochure for a luxury ski resort in the Finger Lakes and realized it was getting closer to the end of the year and I hadn’t gone anywhere yet. With our busiest season coming up, I figured a long weekend was my best bet.”
“So, you went skiing, too?” Riley asked.
Maurice moved from where he’d been standing right behind her, leaning in to kiss his mother on the cheek. “We ran into each other at the ski resort. Seems the place is extremely popular this time of year.” He spoke as casually as if he’d just said, “Hey, Ma, what’s for dinner?” She clearly wasn’t as aloof as Maurice about all this.
“Dinner is served,” Kemp announced before anyone else could speak.
The questioning gazes coming from everyone in the room spoke volumes, but Desta followed Maurice’s lead and walked toward the dining room.
Tonight’s catered meal was an array of fresh salads, lemon pepper chicken, curry rice, sautéed string beans and buttered rolls that smelled heavenly. Hungry and determined to get through this evening, Desta took her seat between the twins where—coincidentally—she always sat. Ron said the grace and bowls began passing between everyone. Same as usual. Inwardly, she was relieved.
Five minutes after they began eating, RJ dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter. “When I called and texted you repeatedly on Sunday to tell you about Riley’s engagement, you were at a ski resort...with Desta?”
Maurice and Desta both looked at RJ, but neither had a chance to answer before Riley asked her, “Wait, you knew before I called you on Monday?” The accusatory tone in Riley’s voice made Desta feel like crap.
It had been almost six Monday evening when Riley had called, brimming with excitement about her engagement. Desta had thought it best to act surprised, especially when Riley quickly continued to discuss business and announcing the engagement.
“I didn’t want to take any of the joy that was so apparent in your voice away.” Desta’s throat was suddenly dry, so she lifted her glass of wine and took a gulp. “By the way, my team and I have already laid out all the preliminary steps to marketing the engagement in the same way we did Nina and Major’s.”
“Yeah, Desta filled me in on the details of that new strategy,” Maurice said. “You sure you want to invite the media into your personal life in that way? I mean, inviting them to the engagement party and into the wedding planning?” Maurice was so calm, and Desta gritted her teeth in frustration. Another gulp from her glass should help her feel more in control.
Riley blinked, probably confused by the shift in conversation. Or possibly annoyed. But she continued with a nod. “Chaz and I discussed it, and it makes the most sense. The media was going to be poking around trying to find out all that they could, anyway. So, why not give them a certain amount of access during the planning? The wedding itself will be private.”
Chaz added, “We don’t even want the location known. They can have all the pictures of dress fittings, cake tastings and parties that they want, but it stops there.”
“Have you decided on the venue yet?” Nina asked.
“No, actually we’re considering a destination wedding,” Riley said cheerfully.
For the next twenty minutes the conversation was all about the wedding. Who would and shouldn’t be invited, who Marva wanted to cater it, what Ron and the other guys didn’t want to wear. It all seemed so normal and at the same time so foreign. Desta hadn’t thought about getting married in a very long time, even
though her grandmother mentioned it almost every time they spoke. Why, Desta still couldn’t figure out. It wasn’t as if Edna Bell’s marriage had been successful. To the contrary, she’d caught her husband and their neighbor in the backseat of his truck at a drive-in movie.
Her mother hadn’t fared much better, but Sheryl Henner had appeared genuinely happy on that long-ago spring weekend when Desta and Gordon had gone to Chicago to announce their engagement. As the conversation around her continued, Desta’s skin began to tingle at the memories it evoked. She’d started to plan her own wedding. A venue, bridesmaids, groomsmen and a date had been selected. Her dress search had been taking longer than expected, and she’d been online searching designers the night she got the call that Gordon had been hurt.
“You okay?” She startled at Maurice’s voice. He’d leaned over to whisper in her ear, and when she turned to him, he grasped her hands.
She hadn’t even realized she’d dropped her hands to her lap, linking her fingers together and holding tight. His hand covered hers now, warm and familiar.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I’m good. Just taking in all the details.” He didn’t believe her. She could tell by the set of his jaw, the gentle squeeze of his hand and the way his eyes had grown dark with concern. “I’m good.” If she said it more than once, maybe he’d believe her. Maybe she’d believe it herself.
“You know what might be a cool idea?” Major’s voice seemed a bit louder than it had been, and Desta forced a smile as she turned in his direction. “What if Riley and Chaz get married at the same ski resort Desta and Maurice stayed at?”
Desta held her breath because in that moment she was totally sure Major knew, and he was having a good time teasing.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” Nina immediately replied.
“It was a really nice resort,” Maurice said. He still had a hand over hers beneath the table, and when she pulled one away to reach for her glass again, he laced his fingers with hers. “With a terrific view. Once Des and I realized we were both staying there, we spent the weekend together exploring the little ski town and enjoying the slopes. There’s a wonderful restaurant at the resort, but the place within walking distance has more of a selection. Des and I thought their food was great.”
It was the way he’d said Des and I followed by the curious stares that had her picking up the glass and emptying it of every drop of wine. She was tempted to reach for the bottle but stopped when Maurice lifted their entwined hands from beneath the table, resting them atop the white linen tablecloth for all to see.
“Well,” Marva said after a brief silence, “it seems things just keep changing around here.” She used a napkin to dab at the corners of her mouth before sending Desta a luminous smile.
“I knew it! You owe me ten dollars,” Major said to Nina, who smiled at Desta before shaking her head at her husband.
Ron had been holding a butter knife in one hand, a roll in the other. Now he pointed the knife from Maurice to Desta. “You two? Spent the weekend together, as in to-gether?”
Desta sat motionless, waiting for him to say she was fired. She kept her shoulders squared and her eyes on Ron because if that was how this was going to play out, so be it. What was done was done, and she wouldn’t undo it now if she could. The wine was definitely beginning to kick in.
“Yes, we’re together.” She was glad Maurice didn’t mimic the way his father had said the word.
“It just happened last weekend,” she added. It shouldn’t matter, but she knew for certain there wasn’t enough wine in this house that would make her comfortable explaining this had really started via an online-dating site.
“I think it’s wonderful,” Nina added. “You two make a great-looking couple.”
“Well, at least now the sexual tension that was always brewing between you two can finally be resolved.” RJ looked bored and immediately changed the subject to who would be traveling to each of next year’s Fashion Weeks.
* * *
“Sexual tension brewing between us? Where’d that come from?” Maurice had been holding that question in, waiting for the moment he could get his brother alone to ask him about it.
They weren’t technically alone now, but since the women had all gathered in the living room to discuss wedding plans, the men had retreated to his father’s study where there was a full-scale bar on one side of the room and a large-screen TV on the other. There was a massive cherrywood desk in the center of the room, and across the space were more leather chairs, high-backed and deep-cushioned. They circled a glass table loaded with classic magazines that noted high points in RGF’s history as leaders in the industry.
RJ shook his head and propped his ankle up on his knee. “It came from all those meetings I had to sit through with you two barely being able to stop snipping at each other.”
“We did not snip at each other during work meetings,” Maurice insisted.
“Yeah, you did. And during poker games,” Major added. “I just thought you’d have the good sense to get over whatever thing you had for her, considering how close she is to the family. But when I saw the two of you leaving her office the other day, I knew something was going on.”
“Wait, what exactly did you see?” He’d been to Des’s office so many times throughout the past week. Not all the visits were work-related, but he’d been pretty sure they kept it G-rated, at least when the door was open. No matter how hard he’d tried to stay away from her, the effort had proven futile, especially since being with her helped to take his mind off the non-work-related stress he’d been experiencing this week.
“Yeah, but you don’t usually leave with your arm around that person’s waist, so low it could’ve been considered on her butt.” Major grinned with that announcement as RJ rolled his eyes.
“See, that’s the part I’m stuck on,” Ron said to his son. “Not your hand inappropriately on her in the office. But the fact that she’s been around us for all these years like she was a blood relative. And you, in your position at RGF, work particularly close to her. I’d have thought you would steer clear, as well.”
“Love chooses,” Chaz interjected. “Not business dealings, family relations or any of the other social trappings we tend to get into.”
“Whoa. Wait a minute. Hold up.” Maurice was shaking his head vehemently. “Nobody said anything about love.” He certainly hadn’t. And he wasn’t thinking it, either.
“You’ve never brought a woman home to meet the family before.” The corners of Major’s mouth wavered as he fought off another grin.
“I said we spent the weekend together. And okay, we were together a lot this week. But that’s it, we’re just having fun.” He shook his head because he didn’t like the sound of that, like what they were doing was trite and inconsequential. It wasn’t. “I mean, we’re just dating. Casually.” As opposed to seriously—something he’d sworn never to do again.
“Well, I’m not saying you can fall in love in that span of time. You know I don’t give a damn about love, anyway. All I’m saying is it’s about time. Now we can move on to more pressing matters.” The director of sales at RGF, RJ was always about business. As driven as every member of the Gold family was, the company was all RJ had, especially after the infamous proposal so long ago.
Chaz got up and went to the bar to refresh his drink. Riley had been bringing him to as many family dinners as he would attend over the past year since they’d been together, so he was already used to moving around the house. “A relationship can easily jump from sexual desire to love in the blink of an eye. Especially if that connection was already there in the form of a friendship. Or even an opposing relationship.”
He was referring to the feud that had since been squashed between the Golds and Tobias King, the owner of King Designs and Chaz’s uncle. Despite the companies being in direct competition—and Ron’s and Tobias’s refusal to speak to each other for m
ore than thirty years—Riley and Chaz had started a secret affair that hand grown into a relationship and now an engagement.
“No!” Major said and pointed a finger toward Chaz. “We are not going to mention you and my sister in the same conversation as sexual desire.”
RJ closed his eyes and shook his head. “Yeah, I agree with that one.”
“I definitely agree with that one,” Ron said. “We’ve accepted you into our men’s club, Chaz, but there’s a line that can’t be crossed, and it starts with my baby girl.”
Chaz chuckled. “All right, I get that. But for real, I’m speaking from experience here. It’s not about time or duration, it’s always about the depth of the feelings.”
RJ made a gagging sound. “Spoken like a guy newly strung out by a woman. That’s why you bought that ring and are about to have a billion-dollar wedding on your tab.”
“It’s cool,” Chaz said coming back to sit down with drink in hand. “I can afford it.” In addition to working with his uncle at King Designs, Chaz was also owned a multi-billion-dollar company.
“No, young man, paying for my daughter’s wedding is my job. Always has been and always will be.” Ron was a proud man. He could be hard at times, was tough as nails when it came to his company but was all about love and his family underneath.
Maurice was uncomfortable with this entire conversation. In fact, this was turning out to be one of the weirdest family dinners he’d ever attended. As much as he’d tried to assure Des that everything was going to be fine, he hadn’t been totally sure of that himself. He’d been the one to make the obvious clear to his family, but that was because they were asking so many questions. He should’ve anticipated that, but he honestly hadn’t thought he and Des had been giving off any signs. It’d only been a week since they’d started a physical relationship—how could so many people notice that so soon? And why did any of this even matter? His temples throbbed.