Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
I poked him in the chest. “Get out. Your momma will bring out the holy water, oil, and does she have a pastor on speed dial?”
“Yep.”
“Are you crazy? We’re gonna get prayed back into the time of Noah, and with my luck, it will be seconds after he sealed the doors … so …”
“So?”
“Go!” My whispered fury didn’t faze him.
“Wear this tonight.” He gestured to the large box.
“Where are we going?”
“Not far. I told you, Zuri. This day was low-key. Just like you wanted.”
I put my hands on my hips, and he followed suit, placing his hands on mine and shifting me closer. “Tonight’s gone be perfect, chère. Trust me.”
“When we’re not in this room …” I murmured, matching the intensity of how his lips pressed against mine. A tiny nip, a gentle kiss, a playful bite, followed by another tender kiss.
His fingers threaded under the hem of my shirt. I dug my hand into the pocket of his jeans.
Montana moaned. “That’s what I’m talking about, bébé?”
As he reached for his zipper, I tugged out a small jewelry box and jumped back.
“Ch-Chanel?” I sputtered. The bracelet matched the other jewelry. “You bought Chanel? Vintage Chanel. Wait, that explains why the other jewelry wasn’t in boxes? You promised not to make a big deal—”
“Nah, that’s Chantelle. One of those vendors in the French Market. It’s fake, bébé.”
“What?”
“That’s where I got the jewelry. Good deal.”
I pressed my hands on his chest. “Good deal? Says the man who wouldn’t take a discount-store T-shirt?”
“You still on that?”
“You badmouthed Egyptian cotton—”
“Non, chère. You just needed to know the finer things in life. The finest. Sea Island Cotton. This fake jewelry? It’ll look authentic, adorning you.”
He kissed me so breathless, the room tilted, then vanished. I placed the real Chanel with the others. Lord, what was I in for tonight?
A while later, I’d showered, oiled myself until my skin resembled liquid caramel, and barely fastened an earring when a knock came. Cinching the belt of my silk robe, I opened the door.
“Maddy, what are you doing here?” I admired the way the silver sequins on her black gown caught the light. “You look beautiful. Hot date?”
“Something like that.” She gestured to a velvet box in her hands. Too grand for me to touch, like the jewelry.
“Montana wanted me to give this to you,”—a mischievous smile tugged her lips—“but the credit goes to me. Coz I made it.”
“You made—”
She pressed the box in my hands. “Girl, save those inquisitive eyes for Montana’s next grand … scheme. Open it.”
I placed it on the dresser and lifted the lid. A mask, its ethereal presence, rested against velvety purple darkness. Gold ribbons swirled through clear, thin glass.
Even with the weak bedside lamps in the room, the smooth curves still caught fire.
“This is art …” I whispered. “Where’s the wall hook?”
“Wear it, Zuri!”
“I ca-can’t break this.”
Her smile softened. “Zuri, glass isn’t just fragile. It’s strong. Strong enough to survive fire and evolve into something more beautiful. Sound familiar? Who’s been through fire?”
Heat rose in my chest, tightening my throat. “Th-thank you.”
She put a hand on my shoulder. “Montana wanted you to know tonight’s par—tonight … is about being seen.”
Wearing a mask?
I didn’t get a chance to ask because she rushed out. “Enjoy your night.”
“You too,” I replied.
“Oh, I will.” Her mouth curved sharply at the edges, just before she closed the door.
I turned toward the mirror and lifted the mask. For once, I didn’t visualize the broken pieces of a girl fighting to put herself back together for the sake of mommyhood; I saw transformation. A woman caught between firelight and gilded glass, shining in a way I hadn’t thought possible.
Montana did this. He brought the best out of me.
And damn, that boy saw me. The real me. I could never leave this place. I prayed Edwin would never find us as I slipped into a Mardi Gras gown born for Carnival itself—a cascade of royal purple woven opulence with a deep plunge neckline. A thick brocade skimmed my body until my hourglass figure flared into a long train.
“Oh my gosh, I’m wearing a purple and gold wedding dress.” I never imagined wearing anything like this after Edwin’s dark side appeared.
Tonight, I wasn’t slipping into a dress, but a persona—regal.
“Elevate your crown a little higher, mon chère.” Virginia stood at the door, clapping her hands together.
A smile blossomed as I lifted my chin.
“Your ride has arrived.”
Not Montana? I grabbed a shawl and twisted it in my fingers. What was going on? Madison almost said party, right?
Outside, a limousine waited. A driver opened the back door and gestured me inside. When I slid into the seat, my heart cracked. Where the hell was Montana? He was missing this. Me.
The driver’s voice was heavy, molasses-thick Cajun, and I caught a few words. Sparkling drink and maybe having me to Mr. Babineaux real quick.