Romance in Color

by Synithia Williams

  She nodded. Kareem shook his head.

  “Say it,” he said. “Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand.” That I am a crazy, sexually frustrated fool.

  • • •

  Patrice leaned over to look in the mirror while she slipped on a pair of diamond stud earrings. Kareem strolled over and lightly grasped her waist. The heat from his palm radiated through her entire hip. She jerked and dropped the earring. They made eye contact in the mirror. The corner of Kareem’s mouth inched up into a knowing half-smile, and Patrice’s breath stuck in her throat.

  Kareem gently squeezed her hip. “Are you ready?”

  Patrice’s hand slightly trembled as she picked up the earring. The guy had her so wired she didn’t know what to do with herself.

  “I am.” She turned to face him. Kareem’s hand slipped away from her waist, but he stayed in her space, overwhelming her senses and warming her body. He smelled divine, his broad, strong shoulders filled out a crisp black dress shirt, and his dreads were twisted back.

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  Kareem ran a hand across his lower lip and smirked. “I’ve attended my fair share of society parties. I know the drill. Smooth jazz, cocktails, and fake laughter.”

  “Ahh, but you’ve never been to a Baldwin family party. You might have more fun than you expect.”

  “Doubtful.” His gaze slowly wandered down her body.

  Shifting her weight to one foot she placed a hand on her hip for his inspection. The long sleeved black maxi dress she’d brought for the party had a scooped neckline and white asymmetrical stripes along the skirt. A thin white belt accented her waist. The material clung just enough to show off her curves, and she’d let her hair hang in a thick curtain to her shoulders.

  “Are you finished with your inventory?” she said with a grin.

  Kareem’s gaze returned to hers. “Let’s go.” He turned toward the door.

  Patrice dropped her arm and considered hitting him in the back of his head. She flipped her hair and followed.

  Kareem stopped at the door and faced her. “You look good, Neecie.”

  Her stomach went gushy, and her heart skipped in her chest. “Thank you. You aren’t half-bad yourself.”

  One side of Kareem’s mouth lifted and a spark flashed in his dark eyes. “Come on, girl.” Putting a hand on her waist he ushered her out of the door.

  They drove his car the short distance to the large clubhouse in her parents’ neighborhood. Janice loved parties, but wasn’t fond of the cleanup afterwards.

  A large crowd mingled inside of the clubhouse where a brass band played music before a large dance floor. Tables decorated with crystal and blue hydrangea, the flower that made up her mother’s wedding bouquet, surrounded the floor. Though it was chilly outside, the patio was closed in with a clear tent draped in white lights.

  Beth spotted them first and did her skip glide across the room to hug Patrice. “You look beautiful, and sexy.” She winked. Beth glanced at Kareem, and her smile dipped at the edges. “Kareem, you’re dressed in all black again.”

  He shrugged. “I like the color.”

  Beth gave Patrice a questioning look, but Patrice didn’t have the answer. If he wouldn’t let her see his notebook, she doubted he’d answer why he only dressed in black.

  Patrice wrapped her arm around his waist. Already his body was stiff as granite. “The color looks good on him.”

  Beth’s bright smile returned. “Of course it does. Come on, let’s mingle.”

  Speakers amplified the band’s jazz music for the outdoor guests. Kareem bumped her with his elbow and pointed to the speaker. “Jazz.”

  She held up a hand. “Just wait. It gets better.”

  “Oh my God, Patrice Baldwin, I haven’t seen you in years!” A thick female drawl came from Patrice’s left.

  Patrice spun around to a tall, slim beauty with caramel skin. “Rhonda!” She grinned and embraced her old high school friend. “You look fantastic.”

  Rhonda ran a hand over her blue grey suit. “Pilates twice a day and a strict diet.” Rhonda’s gaze traveled to Patrice’s hips. “And you look healthy. Who knew you could pull off curvy so well.”

  Patrice gritted her teeth. She fought not to run sweaty palms across her dress. “Thanks, Rhonda,” she said in a flat voice.

  Kareem wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her back against his hard chest. “Neecie does more than pull off curvy; she owns it.”

  Rhonda brought a hand to her heart. “Oh … and you are?”

  “Kareem Henderson, her fiancé.” Kareem held out his free hand.

  A light came into Rhonda’s eyes as they swept appreciatively across Kareem. “Well, isn’t that fantastic. Congratulations, girl, you’ve got yourself a hottie.”

  Patrice blinked several times. “Thanks.”

  Beth chuckled. “I said the same thing, Rhonda.”

  Within seconds other old friends surrounded her and Kareem, giving air kisses and congratulating her on her new engagement. Kareem’s lips hovered between a tight smile and pressed-together lips, both of which she preferred over his scowl.

  With every introduction her old connections eventually brought up how nice she looked. Usually after a quick inventory. Patrice could practically hear the questions. What happened to her figure? She used to be so thin! Surprisingly the silent judgment didn’t bother her, and as the night went on she found herself annoyed yes but also happy. Leaving and becoming comfortable with herself had been the best things she’d ever done.

  Kareem pulled Patrice away from the group to just inside the clubhouse. “These people were your friends?”

  She frowned and nodded. “They were.”

  “No wonder you ran away.”

  They made eye contact, and she grinned. After a second a devastating grin crossed his face and made her insides quiver, Kareem took a step closer, and Patrice leaned against the door.

  “You know I’d take your curves over their stick figures any day?” He leaned in and spoke low.

  Heat swept through Patrice’s midsection, and she pressed her thighs together. “Oh really?”

  Kareem’s dark eyes dropped to her cleavage. “Really.”

  “Patrice, dear, come over and let me introduce you to Lorelei Meadows,” Janice’s voice broke through the moment.

  Patrice looked heavenward and sighed. When she met Kareem’s gaze again he winked and her stomach fluttered. “I’ll be right back.”

  Kareem stepped out of her space. “Have fun. I’ll mingle and check out all the excitement you promised me.”

  “Is that sarcasm? Don’t tell me Kareem Henderson has a sense of humor.”

  “Apparently you bring it out in me.” He cocked his head toward Janice, who stood watching with narrowed eyes. “Go talk to your mother.”

  Kareem nodded at Janice. “Lovely party,” he said then strolled away.

  Patrice studied the sexy way his slacks draped over his ass. He walked toward the back of the room, and people moved out of his way—maybe because he walked with purpose, not slouched or hesitant, but with a stride that said don’t get in my way unless you have a reason.

  A sharp pinch slashed through her upper arm. “Ouch!” Patrice rubbed her arm and faced her mother. “What was that for?”

  “Because it’s not ladylike to drool,” Janice said, but then she smiled.

  “I wasn’t drooling.” Patrice ran a finger across her wet lower lip.

  “Of course you weren’t dear,” Janice said with humor. “Come along.”

  Janice led Patrice across the room to a group of women. Patrice recognized Lorelei immediately. The modeling queen wore a stylish garnet pantsuit, and her long reddish brown hair was pulled up into a complicated knot on the side of her head. Lorelei towered over the women in the group.

  “I’ve heard so much about you, Patrice,” Lorelei said after the introductions. “Your mother said you’re interested in modeling.”

  “Not
so much modeling,” Patrice replied. “I’ve always been interested in the fashion and beauty industry but from behind the camera doing hair and makeup. I used to read your tips in Radiant magazine religiously.”

  “Have you studied or worked in the beauty industry?”

  “Not on your scale. I’ve gotten my cosmetology license and studied to become a master barber in South Carolina, I just haven’t completed that. I worked in a beauty salon in Jacksonville until I moved to Columbia and started cutting men’s hair.”

  Interest lit up Lorelei’s green eyes. “Really, why the switch?”

  “Men care about looking good just as much as women, but they’re usually easier to please. And it’s just easy to chat with guys.”

  Lorelei placed the tips of her fingers on Patrice’s arm. “You wouldn’t believe how many male models love having their hair washed and cut by women. Why don’t you come by my office one day next week? We can talk about you possibly apprenticing at my agency. If I like your style, then we’ll see.”

  Patrice could barely keep the grin off her face. “I’ll call and make an appointment.”

  Patrice met Janice’s eye, who grinned as if Lorelei had offered her the job. “I’m so glad that worked out,” Janice said.

  The conversation switched to another topic, and Patrice searched the room for Kareem. She hadn’t spotted him when a hand tapped her shoulder.

  She spun around then froze. “Roland.” She said his name, exhaling.

  “Hello, Patrice.” Nostalgia hit hard hearing the smooth cultured voice she used to listen to for hours on the phone at night throughout her teens. She used to tremble and sigh with wonder when he’d wait for her at her locker or waited by her dorm on the weekends he visited her at college. Roland’s dark eyes and chocolate skin had matured in a way women paid hundreds for through cosmetics.

  “It’s good to see you,” she said.

  Roland spread his arms, stretching open the jacket of his charcoal grey suit. Patrice automatically accepted his hug. Hugging Roland was as natural as hugging her sister or parents. His arms were both foreign and familiar. After breaking the embrace, Roland pulled her hands into his. His hands were warm, but sweaty, and his eyes wary.

  “You look wonderful.” Unlike the barely veiled sarcasm that came from others when they said the same, Roland’s voice rang with sincerity.

  “Thank you, Roland. You look good, too.”

  “I came with my girlfriend.” He pointed to a woman with beautiful mocha skin watching them while she danced with an older gentleman. “I decided to wait before introducing you. I was concerned you wouldn’t want to see me.” The wariness in his eyes increased.

  Patrice shook her head, glad to know Roland had brought a date to the party. Dousing her fear he had hopes to rekindle their relationship. “I know I left in a rush … and broke things off, but that was never about you. Not really.”

  Roland’s face relaxed. “I understand that now. I always worried you were out in the world hating me.”

  “I never hated you. We share too much history for me to hate you.”

  He squeezed her hands. “You have no idea how much it pleases me to hear that.” Roland glanced over her shoulder and slowly let her hands go.

  A hand slid across her lower back to grasp her waist a second before Kareem’s imposing figure towered at her side. He didn’t have the polish, or sophistication, but the smell of the oil he used on his hair and the hardness of his muscles swept away her nostalgia and instantly electrified her body.

  She bent her head back and smiled at him. Kareem wore a smile, but the dark glint in his eye and the coiled tension in his body made her want to run and hide. He turned hard, flat eyes on Roland. Yeah, getting him to accept her ex’s help was a dumb idea.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Kareem, this is Roland Simmons.” Neecie held out her hand to the country club cutout who’d held her hand too long, in Kareem’s opinion.

  Kareem accepted the guy’s firm, and sweaty, handshake. “Kareem Henderson.”

  Roland gave him a glossy politician’s smile. “Ah, the lucky guy. Congratulations on your engagement. You’ve got a wonderful woman.” Roland studied Neecie with adoring eyes.

  Kareem gritted his teeth. This was the former fiancé. Neecie didn’t need to say anything; their friendly greeting, the warm smiles, the way the guy couldn’t keep his eyes from roaming over her body with the knowing look of a former lover said it all.

  Kareem moved his arm from Neecie’s waist to gently rub her lower back. “She is special.”

  Neecie gave him a tight smile. “Roland and I have known each other since we were kids.”

  “Old friends, huh?” Kareem said.

  Roland chuckled and tilted his head. “You can say that.”

  Neecie took a deep breath. “We were once engaged.”

  Kareem squeezed her hip. “So you’re the guy. I’d say I’m sorry things didn’t work out, but you know.”

  Neecie’s body stiffened, and Roland’s easy smile turned brittle. They exchanged wary looks that made Kareem narrow his eyes.

  “Yes, well,” Roland said and cleared his throat. “I guess I can’t fault you for that.”

  Beth strolled over arm in arm with a guy who resembled Roland. She introduced him as her fiancé, and Roland’s brother, Lad. “Father is about to give his speech.”

  Kareem squinted down at Neecie. “Speech?”

  “Yes, my father always gives a speech at parties.” He raised a brow, and she patted his chest. “I promise the fun starts after the speech.”

  So far he’d gotten what he expected at this party. Rich people trying to impress each other and tossing thinly veiled insults. Old money too far removed from the times when their families may not have had everything they wanted. The pretentious people made him appreciate his father for trying to force appreciation and humility down the throats of his children—and made him appreciate Patrice’s ability to walk away from everything and start her life on her own.

  The tap of Milton’s fingers on the microphone filled the room. The crowd focused their attention on the head of the Baldwin family on stage. “Those of you who know me are aware that I’m not big on giving speeches.” The crowd laughed. “All right, you’ve got me. We know not to give a judge a microphone. But I won’t take a long time with this. Janice, dear, thank you for a wonderful thirty years of marriage. I only hope we have thirty more. We also get to celebrate having all of our kids here tonight. In case you didn’t see her.” Milton pointed to Patrice, and out of nowhere the spotlight shined their way. “My lovely oldest daughter Patrice is here. With her fiancé, who is quite the tennis player.”

  Neecie smiled and waved, and Kareem forced what he hoped resembled a real smile on his face.

  Milton cleared his throat and got the crowd’s attention again. “Now for the fun of the evening. Most of you know how I met my beautiful wife.” A few catcalls and cheers came from the room.

  Neecie grinned at him and tugged on his shirt. Kareem’s interest piqued.

  “For those who don’t, here you go. It was 1977 at the old dance studio in Midtown. There I was, this dapper young man.” Milton tugged on the front of his tux, and the crowd chuckled. “Hanging out with friends when this song came on.” The lively stream of the first bars of “Get Down Tonight” played. The formerly stuffy crowd cheered. “And then I saw the love of my life out on the dance floor.” Milton did a fancy two-step that made the crowd whistle and cheer.

  Kareem laughed with the rest of the crowd. If he hadn’t seen Milton dancing on stage with his own eyes he never would have believe the man capable of letting loose.

  “I think I like your father,” he said.

  Milton pointed to Janice. “Sweetheart, let’s show these people we still have the moves.”

  Janice clapped her hands and waved Milton down. He joined her and spun her around before the two danced together.

  Kareem watched the couple with new admiration. “Your parents could’ve
been on Soul Train.”

  Beth leaned over and bumped his shoulder. “They were! Don’t worry, you’ll hear the story about how they tore up the Soul Train Line.” Beth turned to her boyfriend. “Come on, Lad, let’s dance.”

  Lad grinned and pulled Beth onto the quickly filling dance floor. In a matter of seconds the conservative anniversary party turned into a high-class disco.

  “Want to dance?” Neecie’s hopefulness almost made him agree.

  “You know I don’t dance,” he said.

  Neecie’s lips tightened. “Or maybe it depends on who asks.”

  He kept his face impassive, but inside he felt like she’d kicked him in the balls. The accusation flashed in her eyes. He would have danced with Sandra.

  “Lucky for you, it appears Felicia is still dancing with her father,” Roland said. “Which leaves me without a partner.” He held out his hand to Neecie. “If you can keep up with my moves.”

  Neecie’s giggle at the lame joke made Kareem’s stomach tighten.

  “I remember your moves. They’re not hard to keep up with.”

  Roland eyed Kareem. “Do you mind? I don’t want to step on your toes.”

  The guy’s existence stepped on Kareem’s toes, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing.

  “Go ahead.”

  He watched, once again, as another guy danced with Neecie. She smiled and laughed as Roland twirled and spun her to the disco music. Tension slowly took over Kareem’s body. Neecie was pretty damn comfortable with the guy she supposedly brought Kareem here to keep at bay. Her excuse for him coming could have been a lie. She could have asked him here to make her ex jealous. Pitting men against each other had never seemed to be her style, but honestly he didn’t know much about her outside of the shop.

  He wanted to know more. What made her so romantic? Where did she go after she left her family? Why in the hell did her smile make him so happy?

  Roland dipped Neecie in his arms and then pulled her in close. Kareem snapped. No way in hell would he let another guy twirl his woman on the dance floor. But he refused to dance to this music.

  Kareem stalked over to the DJ booth and flagged the guy over. “You got any reggae?”