Love on the Rocks

by Pamela Yaye

  On the third floor, Tangela stepped off the elevator. Having stayed in the deluxe suite before, she knew to make a left turn at the first corner. As she remembered the last time she’d spent the night at the Sky Hotel, her thoughts turned to Warrick. A smile filled her lips. For the last two weeks, they’d been in their own private world. They relished every moment they had together, and if not for his board meeting that afternoon, they’d still be lounging in bed.

  As Tangela approached suite three seventy-two, she noticed a small pink envelope taped to the door. Her name was typed in a bold dark font. Curious, she tore it off, opened it and read the single handwritten sentence. Tonight is your night.

  Frowning, she returned the card to the envelope. Only God knew what Carmen and the crew had in store for her tonight. I hope they’re not taking me to some nasty strip club, she thought, sliding the key card into the slot.

  Stepping inside the darkened room, Tangela flipped on the lights. Slack-jawed, she cupped a hand over her gaping mouth. Balloons—hundreds of heart-shaped balloons—covered the living-room floor. Showy pink tulips sat in slim, cylindrical vases, and the jumbo candles along the mantel created a warm ambient glow. Glass bowls overflowed with dark chocolate and Tangela’s mouth watered at the enticing scent.

  As Tangela made her way into the suite, she was stunned to see eight-by-twelve pictures of her and Warrick hanging on the cream walls. Stopping, she reached out and drew her finger along one of the expensive silver frames. It held the picture they’d taken at the end of their first date. Beside it was a photo of them snorkeling in St. Croix. Each photograph, arranged in chronological order, touched her deeply. And when Tangela saw the last picture in the row everything clicked. Seven pictures, seven years, she thought, smiling when she saw the overblown People magazine cover. I can’t believe Warrick would do something like this!

  Another pink envelope was taped to the bedroom door. “Take a shower, put on the dress and meet me in the living room at eight o’clock,” she read out loud. Confused, she rushed inside. The room was decorated lavishly, and there were more crystal vases filled with tulips. Three white boxes fitted with enormous red bows were on the satin-draped bed.

  Breathing deeply, slowly, Tangela ripped open the envelope on top of the smallest box. Inside, she read, To my love, my future, my everything. Closing her eyes, she clutched the card to her chest. A deep sense of peace filled her. Warrick loved her completely, fully, without condition. He accepted her, validated her feelings, and for as long as she lived, she’d never forget how loved and cherished she felt today.

  The tissue paper inside the box was quickly discarded. The tiny diamonds on the pearl bracelet glittered when Tangela lifted it out of its case. A pair of designer shoes were in the second box and a chiffon, one-shoulder dress occupied the third. Feeling like a real-live princess, Tangela held the Oscar de la Renta designer gown up to her body and examined herself in the mirror.

  Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks, but she brushed them away. She didn’t want Warrick to come in and see her crying. Not after he’d gone to all of this trouble for her. Tangela had no idea what other surprises her boyfriend had in store for her, but she was anxious to find out. Humming the “Wedding March,” she floated into the bathroom, wearing a wide, radiant smile.

  Forty minutes later, Tangela was bathed, lotioned and dressed. The gown fitted like a dream, and she’d never felt more beautiful. In light of the occasion, she’d taken extra care in fixing her hair and makeup. Mascara thickened her lashes and chocolate-brown lipstick gave her lips extra shine. Desiring a glamorous look, she’d twisted her hair into a bun, secured the knot with a pair of wooden hair sticks and added some jewels throughout.

  Slipping on her shoes, she carefully lowered herself onto the bed. Her stomach was heavy with butterflies and her hands were shaking so hard she couldn’t secure the ankle strap on the high heels. Absorbed in her task, she didn’t notice Warrick watching her from the bedroom door.

  “Well, good evening, Ms. Howard.”

  Warrick had planned to start the night off with a six-course meal and wine, but when he saw Tangela’s drop-dead-gorgeous look, he was overtaken by desire, a voracious hunger that couldn’t be tamed or quenched. His eyes ran down her hips. To keep from losing his footing, he braced himself against the door frame. Blown away by her beauty, he stared as if he was seeing her for the first time. Warrick had known Tangela would look stunning in the custom-made gown, but he hadn’t expected to be knocked off his feet.

  Executing the perfect proposal was all about planning, creativity and timing, and Warrick wasn’t about to let this moment pass him by. Hadn’t he waited long enough? Didn’t the woman he loved deserve to finally have her fairy-tale ending? Retrieving the velvet pouch from his suit pocket, he clutched it in his palm and entered the room.

  “Even after all these years, you still take my breath away,” he whispered, reaching for her. Tangela stood, and when Warrick saw the love reflected in her eyes, he felt himself get choked up. Clearing his throat, he brushed at the curls crowding her face. “This dress was made for you, baby. No one could wear it better.”

  “I thought you had an emergency board meeting in New York.” The sly smile on his lips made her giggle. “When did you become so sneaky?”

  “When I saw you at the Hawthorne party in that leather cat-woman costume. The second I saw you, I knew I had to find a way to get you back!”

  “Warrick, I love everything. The suite, the tulips, this outfit. And when I saw the picture frames, I almost burst out crying.”

  Glad he’d pleased her, he reached for her hand. Tangela was his world, and he was going to spend the rest of his life making her happy or die trying. “Baby, I want to spend all of my days and nights with you. You’re my destiny, my hope, my future and no one else makes me feel the way you do.”

  Water filled her eyes.

  “Baby, don’t cry,” he admonished, embracing her and pecking her check. “You’re finally going to have the wedding day you’ve always dreamed of. I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to get my act together, but I’m here now, asking for your hand in marriage. I absolutely want to marry you, and I will…”

  Sniffling, Tangela dabbed at her face with her fingertips. Warrick spoke with such passion, with such conviction, she could feel herself beginning to unravel. Her mouth was dry and she felt light-headed, but she forced her herself to stay in the moment.

  “The time we spent apart made me want you even more, and I’m never going to let you go again.” With care and deliberate slowness, Warrick untied the velvet pouch and took out the pink oval-shaped ring. Speechless, Tangela closed her open mouth. It was the ring Warrick had given her the first time he proposed. It was five and a half carats of perfection. A brilliant Harry Winston diamond that had once made her the envy of all of her girlfriends. He’s been holding on to it for all these years?

  “I’d always planned on marrying you, Angie, and there was never any doubt in my mind that one day we’d get back together. You’re the perfect woman for me, the only woman for me, and I’d be honored to call you my wife. Will you marry me?”

  Overjoyed, tears spilling from her eyes, Tangela kissed Warrick so hard he staggered back onto the bed. Desperate for him, she pushed his suit jacket over his shoulders. Savoring the taste of his lips, she ran her hands over his wide, muscular chest. Like a pair of sixth graders crouched under the bleachers, they pawed and stroked each other, until they were inflamed with desire.

  Warrick had planned every minute of the night and making love was the last item on his list, but as they shed their designer clothes, he couldn’t think of a better way to start the evening. He’d cued the stereo to play “their” song, and when he heard the distant sound of “Don’t Change,” he pulled back, staring deeply, intensely into his Tangela’s beautiful brown eyes.

  “The way we are is how it’s gonna be, just as long as your love don’t change,” he sang, showering her face with kisses.

>   More tears filled Tangela’s eyes. Not only did Warrick love her unconditionally, he made her feel good about herself, and that was a serious turn-on. Skin-to-skin, the warmth of his lips exciting her, she trembled at the spark of electricity tearing through her core. Erect and longing to be touched, she cupped her breasts and lifted her nipples to his open mouth. He ran his tongue around one, all the while kneading and plucking the other. When he jerked off her panties, she sucked in a quick, sudden breath.

  Warrick could tell by the way Tangela lifted her hips up off the bed that she was ready for more. Her skin was warm, her body responsive and her lips as sweet as caramel. Granting her unspoken desire, he parted her legs and eased his index finger inside her wetness. The more he stroked her, probing her sex with his long fingers, the harder it was for Tangela to breathe.

  To heighten her pleasure, Warrick slowly massaged her clitoris, sliding his finger back and forth, in and out. His heart was thumping, and when she sucked his earlobe into her mouth, a shiver tore down his spine. Starting at his collarbone, Tangela kissed down his chest, sending him over the edge with each flick of her tongue. She dragged her long fingernails down his back while her lips worked their magic.

  Touching her softness with the tip of his erection, he palmed her breasts fervently. Entering her, he moved in deep, fluid strokes. Gazes locked, they moved together as one. One body, one soul, one mind. They were lovers, soul mates, and one day they’d be joined forever as husband and wife. As Warrick loved her, he held her tightly in his arms, caressing her, kissing her, stroking her tenderly.

  A crippling orgasm tore through her. One after another, deep, mind-numbing, paralyzing spasms filled her. Her mouth was dry, her body damp and weak. Numb and dazzled, she felt herself go limp in his strong arms. She’d never come that fast before, and when Warrick teased her for finishing first, she laughed out loud.

  Clutching her hips in his palms, he deepened his penetration. Warrick felt a wave of heat and pressure settling in his groin. Rocked by the intensity of his impending orgasm, he grabbed the headboard for support. He increased his thrusts until he was gulping furiously for air.

  Spent, Warrick collapsed onto his back and pulled the woman he loved to his side. Planting kisses on her cheek, he quietly hummed the refrain of “Don’t Change.” “You know, you never did answer my question,” he teased, rubbing his chin against her bare shoulder. “Are you finally going to let me make an honest woman of you?”

  He expected her to laugh, and when she didn’t, he pulled back so he could see her face. Love was reflected in her eyes, her cheeks were flushed and her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  “I’ve dreamed of marrying you and starting a family for almost a decade. Warrick, baby, I love you more than you’ll ever know, more than words can express. And I’ll never stop.”

  Fingering the bracelet dangling from her wrist, he tightened his hold around her, swallowing the space separating their bodies. “I’d marry you in a heartbeat, baby. Anytime, anywhere, anyplace.”

  Staring up at him, a plan formulating in her mind, she felt a slow indulgent smile cross her lips. “In that case, what are you doing May long weekend?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sparrows tittered, the sun shone and the wind ruffled the trees shielding Warrick’s grandparents’ North Shore mansion. Overflowing with multicolored flowers, the fragrance rising from the garden aroused the appetites of the eighty guests. Following the sound of children’s laughter, Sage and Marshall strolled into the backyard, hand in hand.

  “Some barbecue,” Sage said, as her husband led her to the gazebo. “This is incredible.”

  “I’d say.” Shaking his head in awe, he released a slow whistle. “Check out the water fountain, and all the rose petals in the pond. I’ve been to a lot of parties, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “I know. Mrs. Carver went all out. It looks like a wedding reception up in…” The sentence died on her lips. Mouth agape, her gaze slowly circled the backyard. She stood in perfect silence, fevered thoughts whipping through her brain. For several moments, she eyed the floor vases packed with gardenias, then the folding chairs positioned on either side of the aisle and finally the white blossoms adrift in the pool. “Sweet mother of Joseph! This isn’t a barbecue. It’s a wedding reception!”

  It wasn’t until Sage felt her husband’s hand over her mouth that she realized she was the one screaming. “Oh my God! Warrick and Tangela are getting married!”

  “Sage, calm down,” he whispered. “Everyone’s staring at us.”

  Prying his fingers from her mouth, she said, “I can’t believe her! Best friend my ass. I went shopping with Tangela yesterday and she didn’t say a word about this.”

  Wearing a sympathetic smile, Marshall put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re disappointed about not being her maid of honor, huh? You two are practically sisters, and I know it’s going to be hard to watch her get married—”

  “That’s not it,” she insisted, cutting him off. “If I had known this was a wedding reception, I would have dressed up. I can’t take pictures in a tank top and capri pants.”

  “Honey, you look fine.”

  “But I don’t want fine. I want elegant, chic, sophisticated.”

  Marshall took a swig of his drink. After waiting an hour for his wife to get dressed, then sitting in traffic for another thirty minutes, his frustration level was in the red zone, and all he wanted now was something to eat. Hungry, thirsty and anxious to kick back and celebrate the holiday the way God intended, he told her to try and relax. “There’s nothing we can do about it now,” he told her. “We’re already here, so you’re going to have to make the most of it.”

  “Like hell I am! It’s my best friend’s wedding, Marshall. Not one of your mother’s down-home cookouts.” Gripping his hand, she spun on her heels and hurried back up the cobble walkway. “Come on, baby. We’re going to make a quick run to Boulevard Mall!”

  The French doors opened and Tangela stepped out onto the red satin carpet sprinkled with white tulips. Bedazzled with jewels across the bodice, her ivory-colored strapless gown had lace trim along the neckline and a beaded bustline. Diamonds sprinkled the length of the dress and the sweeping train flowed around her long legs like an elegant whirlpool.

  Turning her face toward the sky, she soaked up the warmth of the sun and drew serenity from the gentle rustling of palm trees and the melody of humming sparrows.

  Tightening her grip on her bouquet, she smiled brightly, moving gracefully toward the man she loved. They’d pulled off the surprise of the century and even from several feet away she could see the stunned looks on people's faces. Three weeks was hardly enough time to plan a wedding, but after talking things over with his grandparents, they’d decided to go for it. Leaving the planning in Mrs. Carver’s very capable hands, they’d concentrated on securing a wedding license, moving Tangela’s things into the penthouse and choosing a honeymoon destination. The night he’d proposed, they’d lain in bed for hours discussing their wedding, and realized early on that they didn’t want something large, extravagant and flashy. They wanted their special day to encompass all the things they loved—good food, good music and good friends.

  Beside Reverend Massey, Warrick stood calmly, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes alight with excitement. In a traditional black Armani designer tux, buffed shoes and a wide megawatt smile, her husband-to-be deserved his own People magazine cover.

  Tangela couldn’t imagine a more perfect day for a wedding, and, as Warrick stepped forward and took her hand, her heart pulsed with joy. His aftershave smelled divine and a rush of pleasure overtook her. On an extended high from their romantic afternoon at the couples’ spa yesterday, she stole a quick look at their friends and family seated behind them and smiled.

  People grinned, waved and snapped pictures. Her legs wobbled, and for a moment Tangela thought she might lose her balance, but she straightened her back and dug her he
els into the grass. Nothing was going to go wrong. This was the moment she’d been waiting for, the moment she’d been dreaming of since she was a little girl. Today, she would marry her best friend, her lover, her soul mate, the man created and designed especially for her. And nothing, not even a serious case of the nerves, was going to stand in her way.

  “Friends, family, well-wishers, we are gathered here this afternoon to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.” A prayer followed, and then Reverend Massey spoke briefly about the beauty and significance of marriage and their roles as husband and wife. “The couple has written their own vows and I invite them to share them now.”

  Eyes radiating with pride, Warrick brought a hand to Tangela’s cheek and gently caressed her face. “My God, Angie, you’re exquisite. Absolutely perfect in every way.”

  Blinking incessantly, she willed herself not to cry. Tangela cleared the emotion from her throat and tried to focus her gaze on her fiancé’s face. Crying would ruin her makeup and she didn’t want to look a mess in their wedding pictures.

  “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you and despite all the challenges we’ve faced, I knew you’d be my wife one day. From this day forward and for the rest of our lives, I will honor you, cherish you and respect you. There’ll be real good days and some hard times, but when I mess up, I promise to buy you a gift from Harry Winston!”

  Guests tittered. When the laughter died down, he said, “This is my solemn vow,” and sealed his declaration with a chaste kiss. “We’re going to have an amazing life together, Tangela. A life we’re going to live to the fullest.”

  Tangela’s eyes grew cloudy again. She’d promised herself—and her makeup artist—that she wouldn’t break down, but she couldn’t hold her feelings in any longer. Like a tide overrunning a dam, tears gushed down her cheeks. And when Warrick brushed them away, she cried even harder. The loving gesture wasn’t lost on their guests, either. Behind her, someone wept, and soon, the air was inundated with sniffles, whimpers and hushed sobs.