Can't Get Enough (Skyland, #3)(10)
I love this house most when it’s full of people. So really only once a year. When Zere suggested we throw an all-white party the first summer of our relationship, I had no idea this would become one of the most coveted invitations.
The massive glass wall leading to the backyard from the living room is folded back, opening to a dazzling view of the bay. There’s a swirl of bodies, all dressed in white, mingling, drinking, dancing outside. Servers circulate with trays of food you can easily eat with your hands. A few adventurous guests are playing volleyball in the pool… fully dressed.
I’ve had so little downtime lately, this isn’t really how I want to spend one of my few free Saturday evenings. But this is the last time. I can at least give Zere this.
“I want you to meet Chapel,” Zere says, reminding me we still have one last appearance to get through.
“She’s the one who won Lewks, right?” I ask, frowning and trying to recall the details.
“Right. If you’d ever actually made it to set this season, you could have met her.”
I draw in a breath through my nose and force myself not to respond harshly. “I actually did come a few times. Not as much as I would have liked, but you know I’ve been slammed with the sale of True Playahs.”
“Oh, I’m quite aware just how important your work is,” Zere half laughs.
I’ve been negotiating the biggest deal of my life, as complex as the Riemann hypothesis, and she expected me to sit around on the set of her reality show waiting for her to take a break? I would never have pulled her away from something as professionally vital as this deal was for me. Didn’t I show support in other ways? Me showing up to sit around set wouldn’t have changed the fact that we have been headed to this end for at least the last year.
“Zee, I—”
“Here’s Chapel,” she cuts in, plastering a smile on her face, waving and drawing the attention of a woman I vaguely recognize. Petite with closely cropped hair tinted pink. Zere grabs her hand and draws her forward. “Chapel, I want you to meet… this is my… uh… this is Maverick Bell.”
“Hmmmm.” Chapel is mid-swallow, gulping and passing a slim hand over her mouth to catch the drink spilling over. “Sorry! Hi! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say. “Congratulations on winning. That’s really cool.”
“Thank you.” She beams, her expression brightening even more if possible. “And thank you for having us.”
“Where’s Hendrix?” Zere asks, glancing around.
“Girl, you know Hen.” Chapel shakes her head, a smile coming easily to her lips. “She out there taking over.”
She nods to the backyard where guests dance and cluster in conversations.
“I should have known.” Zere laughs beside me and points to a group assembled near the firepit. “Hendrix is the life of every party.”
I follow the direction of her gaze and narrow my eyes to focus. A woman stands on the stone wall surrounding the pool, which slightly elevates her over maybe twenty guests gathered around. The DJ is playing “Candy” by Cameo. From her perch this woman stands on the dais and leads the small crowd of dancers in the electric slide.
Her face is lit not just by the late-setting sun or the pool lights that have already come on as darkness approaches, but illuminated by something inside. She is luminous with skin the color of rich cocoa. The flash of her pink tongue is delicately clenched between the boldness of a smile built from straight white teeth and absolute radiance. A cloud of coiling natural curls halos her striking face, the Afro dark and full and luxuriant. She’s tall, maybe matching Zere, but where Zere is slender, almost fragile, Hendrix has a homegrown thickness that is tight in some places and voluptuous in others. She is long lines and deep curves. Lush and ripe like summer fruit.
A handful.
The description makes me grin because she would overflow a man’s hands with the cursive swell of her breasts and hips and ass, yes, but the energy she’s emitting, stepping and hopping and twisting as she leads everyone through the slide, hints that she would be a handful. She would be… a lot.
“Who is she?” I force myself to look away from her and return my attention to Zere and Chapel.
“Hendrix?” Chapel answers with a grin. “She’s my manager.”
“Seems to be having fun,” I reply, keeping my tone and expression indifferent, though one glimpse of this Hendrix manager person leaves me wanting to stare.
“Always does,” Zere says with a wry smile. “Chapel, there’s someone I want you to meet. It’s this executive from the network. He’s really excited about the potential of your show.”
Zere’s glance my way is a tangle of reserve and reluctance. “You’ll be fine if I mingle a little, Mav?”
“Of course. I should mingle some, too, I guess, huh?”
She knows stuff like this, sometimes people like this, bore me, and some of the stiffness melts at the edges of her eyes and mouth. She leans over and kisses my cheek, letting her lips rest against my face for an extra beat, before pulling away. Her smile goes stiff again, rigid with hiding her emotions. Since she’s shit at hiding from me, I’m glad she turns away so I don’t have to see what’s there. There’s an ache in my chest knowing I’m the cause of it.