Chapter Four
Takira
What are the odds?
Whatever they are, they’re against me. Of all people to sit down in my chair at today’s fashion show, an event I wasn’t even originally booked for…Nazareth Armstrong.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of him often over the years. How could I not? Every milestone of his career he celebrated, my brother bemoaned. Sometimes the amazing turns his life took were the very things that sent Cliff on his worst benders. When Naz’s team won the championship a few years ago, giving him a ring before the age of thirty, Mama couldn’t find Cliff for days. I flew home to help search because she was so desperate. The boy who was once her greatest source of pride has delivered the most sorrow to her door.
“Thank you again for stepping in today,” Catalina says, sipping her drink, the lights from the pool in Lotus’s backyard casting a glow on her face.
“Oh, thanks for asking.” I swirl the pomegranate martini in my glass. “It was fun.”
It had been. Not having done a fashion show in a while, I’d forgotten the rush of adrenaline that comes with the lightning-fast outfit changes and look adjustments. I practically launched a few models down the runway when time was tight.
“Takira!” Lotus calls from a few feet away. She’s changed and now wears a dress so short it exposes what looks like lace stockings tattooed around the tops of her thighs. The tiny straps show off the delicate line of her collarbone, and her platinum braids contrast perfectly against the rich brown of her face. Her round belly should appear incongruous in the sexy outfit with the strappy heels, but she manages to look effortlessly glamorous and comfortable in her own skin.
“I’m so glad you came,” she says, drawing even with Catalina and me. “Thanks for helping out today and for coming tonight.”
“Hey, Hollywood party filled with beautiful people. It didn’t take much convincing,” I joke.
ActuallyI did have to convince myself to come. Seeing Naz changed everything. There’s still something magnetic between us, striking sudden and sure the same way it did the night he walked into my mama’s house on the eve of the big game. Loyalty to my brother, concern for his fragile recovery urged me to make my excuses, hightail it back to my studio apartment, and forget the random encounter with the man Cliff hates more than anyone else.
Yet here I am, planted by the pool and scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the towering man with intense eyes and a fresh haircut.
“I wanted you to meet my cousin Iris,” Lotus says, tugging forward a woman I’ve seen many times with her famous baller husband, August West.
“Thank you for helping out today,” Iris says, her voice low and even. There’s a tough kind of serenity to her. Lotus’s strength and power are so much a part of her it seems she was born into them. Iris, with her very public battle as a survivor, won her strength by walking through hell and coming out the other side whole.
“I loved every minute of it,” I reply to Iris. “I hope Harbor House got everything they needed.”
Excitement brightens Iris’s eyes, and she smiles so wide, it’s easy to see why her husband is notoriously devoted to her. Conviction makes her glow even more.
“We passed our goal, yes,” she says. “Thanks for asking. You live here in LA?”
“I do now,” I say. “Relocated from New York a while back to work on a movie and ended up staying on the West Coast.”
“The Dessi Blue movie,” Lotus pipes up.
“I can’t wait for that one,” Iris says, curiosity reshaping her expression. “So were you born in New York?”
“Oh, no. I was born in Trinidad, but my parents moved us to Houston when I was still a baby.”
“You ever go back?” Catalina asks.
“All dee time, gyal,” I say, slipping on my mother’s accent like a pair of familiar slippers. “My sister Janice and I go to Carnival every chance we get.”
“I’ve been a few times,” Lotus says. “I actually want to name my summer line Carnival, inspired by the vibrant colors and the flamboyant costumes. I’ve already sketched out a few things and talked to my team about maybe shooting the campaign in Trinidad.”
“Are you kidding?” I gasp. “That would be amazing. Maybe you could even connect with the tourist board. They’d love that kind of exposure with a brand as popular as yours.”
“You think?” Lotus asks, eyes wide.
“I’m sure.”
“It’ll have to wait until this little guy pops out,” Lotus says, touching her belly with obvious tenderness.
“It’s a boy?” I ask.