Chapter 4
Nydia helped Jasmine as she stepped into her wedding gown. For the past two weeks she had felt like a hamster on a wheel, running around in endless circles, and since arriving in New Orleans one day had blurred into the next one.
She had tried on several gowns in varying shades of yellow before selecting a sunny-yellow, one-shoulder chiffon gown, nipped at the waist, and flowing around her feet like frothy meringue. Strappy matching satin-and-patent-leather platform sandals added four inches to her five-two height.
And as promised, Tonya prepared and delivered a two weeks’ supply of frozen dinner entrées. It had become a struggle not to overindulge on the delicious dishes before the final fitting for her bridesmaid’s dress.
She’d also accompanied Jasmine to countless local antique dealers and furniture warehouses and several in Baton Rouge to shop for furnishings for her new home. Tonya had mentioned her husband’s mother owned and operated an antique shop in Lafayette, but thankfully Jasmine had decided not to take the over one-hundred-seventy-mile ride until after her wedding.
Cameron had invited her to join him and Jasmine to share dinner with his parents, and Nydia got to see firsthand why Jasmine had agreed to marry him. He was patient, attentive, and affectionate, confirming Nydia’s pronouncement that Cameron was willing to go after what he wanted, and it had been apparent from the first time he saw her at Hannah’s wedding reception that he wanted Jasmine Washington.
“This has to be some crazy shit!” Nydia spat out as she fastened the tiny buttons of the golden beaded bodice on the back of the empire waist gown of beaded silk crepe and georgette artfully disguising Jasmine’s slightly rounded belly. “Most brides take months and even up to a year to plan their wedding, while you’re pulling yours off in three weeks. And last night you showed up as Daddy’s fiancée and now twenty-four hours later, you’re about to become Mrs. Daddy.”
Jasmine met Nydia’s eyes in the reflection of the full-length mirror. “It wouldn’t have been possible if Nathan and Belinda had not celebrated their golden anniversary last night. Cameron and I already had the venue, the invited guests, and the event planner.”
“It is a slick move.”
Her friend revealed that Cameron, his brothers, and sister had decided to host their parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary on a Friday night at the Louis LaSalle and subsequently informed the invited guests that Cameron was getting married the following day. They did not identify the bride, which only served to pique their curiosity. However, Cameron did inform his college fraternity brothers that he was marrying the woman who’d accompanied him during their reunion yacht party and had hotel management block out a number of rooms for those committed to attend.
Jasmine had attended her future in-laws’ soirée for the cocktail hour, then left to spend the night in her suite with Nydia. They’d sat up talking for hours about any and everything until Nydia suggested they go to bed because they had appointments with the hairstylist and the makeup artist Hannah had employed for her wedding.
Nydia glanced at the clock on the table. It was fifteen minutes before six. “You better put your shoes on, because your father said he’ll be here at six.” Her gaze swung back to Jasmine, who’d opted not to wear a veil; the stylist had styled her hair in a mass of tiny black curls reminiscent of a Grecian goddess. The woman had threaded a narrow gold silk ribbon through the curls, tied it in a bow with streamers flowing down her back and ending at the hem of the gown.
Nydia slipped the groom’s rose-gold wedding band with a brushed finish on her thumb and then scooped up Jasmine’s bouquet of yellow and white roses tied with several yards of wide white ribbon off the table before picking up her own bouquet of yellow roses, mums, and daisies.
It was the second time in less than a year Nydia would become a bridesmaid for a former coworker. A wry smile flitted over her features when she realized Hannah, Tonya, and now Jasmine were celebrating their second marriages, while she was yet to have her first, and when she married she hoped it would be her last. Her parents had recently celebrated their thirty-sixth wedding anniversary and appeared more in love with each other with every passing year.
Jasmine smiled at Nydia. “I need to give you something for standing up as my maid of honor.”
Nydia shook her head. “No, Jazz,” she said in protest. “I’m just honored you asked me.” She and the interior decorator had become best friends, and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her. Jasmine had become the sister she’d always wanted. She gasped when Jasmine handed her a bangle bracelet with princess-cut diamonds.
“It’s the least I could do for your encouragement and support, because without it I never would’ve answered Cameron’s text asking me to have dinner with him. I had the inside inscribed with the date and love from me and Cameron.”
Nydia slipped the bangle on her wrist and secured the safety clasp. Judging from the weight of the metal she knew it was platinum. “I’ll treasure it always.”
Jasmine hugged her. “And I treasure our friendship.”
There came a knock on the door. “Ten minutes.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Jasmine called out. “I just have to put on shoes and get my engagement ring.”
Nydia raised her left hand. “I have Cameron’s band.”
Jasmine slipped her feet into her shoes, chuckling softly under her breath. “I’ve never seen you look so tall.”
Nydia patted the curly hair brushed off her face and secured on the top of her head with jeweled hairpins. “With four inches of heels and another three of hair, I can now make the height to become a supermodel.”
There came another knock on the door. “We’re ready out here.”
“Coming,” Nydia and Jasmine chorused.
Nydia opened the door to find Jasmine’s father dressed in tuxedo finery. She followed Jasmine and Richard Washington down the hallway to the elevator. A hotel employee waited for them to enter the car and punched the button for the first floor. When it reached the lobby level, he escorted them to the ballroom where Philip Baxter, Cameron’s college roommate and best man, waited for them.
“Hell, doll,” Philip crooned, grinning like a Cheshire cat, while offering Nydia his left arm.
Nydia was more than prepared for the overly flirtatious man. Jasmine had told her about the number of times he’d been married, and that he was currently engaged to a woman half his age, and she cautioned her to ignore his not-so-subtle advances. Nydia curbed the urge to roll her eyes at the man with thinning red hair, as she affected what passed for a smile.
“Hello, Philip.” His grin faded quickly when he registered the neutral tone in her greeting. She had no intention of sending the man a signal that she was even remotely interested in him even if he hadn’t been engaged.
The doors to the ballroom opened, and a string quartet continued to play as she went into the room on Philip’s arm. She bit back a smile as necks craned to see who the bride could possibly be. The music changed as the familiar strains of the “Wedding March” filled the ballroom, and Nydia chuckled as a loud gasp went up from the assembly amid applause from the Singletons.
She’d grown up hearing people say the only way two people could keep a secret was if the other was dead. Well, that wasn’t the case with Cameron and his fiancée. It was apparent, with the exception of Cameron’s family members, close friends, and his fraternity brothers, that the truth behind his relationship with Jasmine had been a successful closely held Big Easy secret.
* * *
Lamar hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath until the constriction in his chest forced him to exhale as he stared at Nydia on the arm of Cameron’s best man. She had gone from an ingénue in cropped jeans, running shoes, and a tank top to an ethereal vision in a frothy yellow gown that looked like buttercream frosting against her mocha-hued complexion. A moment before she took her place opposite the best man, he met her eyes and he smiled when she lowered hers demurely. The gesture was so unabashedly virtuous he wondered if she truly was as innocent as she appeared.
“Did you know Cameron was marrying this girl?”
Lamar glanced at the hand on the sleeve of his suit jacket. The enormous golden South Sea pearl surrounded by a triple halo of brilliant diamonds resembled a bird’s nest. Mrs. Abigail Attenborough currently headed her family’s charity, and as an Attenborough her name was on the city’s social calendar for every philanthropic fund-raiser and society wedding. The tiny widow with bright-blue eyes and snow-white, stylishly cut short hair that was an almost match for her alabaster complexion was still recovering from hip surgery. However, it was apparent the Singletons hadn’t informed her about the woman Cameron planned to marry. He debated whether to be truthful or evasive and decided on the latter.
“Not really.”
Lamar’s association with Cameron was personal and business. He’d married a colleague of Cameron’s sister Evangeline, who had been maid of honor at their wedding. Evangeline had taken Valerie’s death hard because they’d made a pact that their daughters would grow up to be fast friends like their mothers. His late wife’s friend had held up her end of their pledge when his daughter was invited to sleepovers with Evangeline’s twin daughters.
Earlier in the year Cameron had contacted his engineering firm to check the viability of converting the warehouse into a personal residence. After inspecting the property, Lamar completed a report with a recommendation that since the building was structurally sound, Cameron should purchase the building.
“It took him long enough to pick a wife,” Mrs. Attenborough whispered. “I’d heard talk that maybe he was using women as a cover because he really liked men.”
Lamar wasn’t about to dignify the wealthy widow’s supposition with a response. In all of the years he had come to know Cameron, there had never been a time when he suspected the man preferred a same-sex liaison.
“But I have to say that he certainly picked a beauty.”
“That she is,” Lamar confirmed. He wanted to tell the chatty woman that he didn’t want to engage in gossip but concentrate on the ceremony as Jasmine’s father placed her hand on Cameron’s extended left.
The minister motioned for everyone to take their seats. A pregnant silence fell over the ballroom as the officiant peered over his half-glasses. “We are gathered here for a simple ceremony. Today we will celebrate the wedding of Jasmine Esperanza to Cameron Averill and we will also celebrate the symbolism of the rings. Some say the ring is a sign of ownership, but I believe it is a symbol of a union that has no beginning and no end.”
Lamar stared straight ahead, his mind drifting to another time and place. He mentally recalled exchanging vows with a woman with whom he’d prayed he would be together long enough to celebrate countless anniversaries. He and Valerie had talked about having children, becoming grandparents, retirement, and the many countries they planned to visit during their lifetime.
He forced his attention back to the exchange of vows and rings. Cameron had placed a band on Jasmine’s hand as he promised to honor and cherish her and be her devoted husband as long as they both shall live. Jasmine repeated her vow and slipped a band on her husband’s finger.
The minister smiled for the first time. “Cameron and Jasmine, with these rings of gold, you have taken a vow to love and cherish each other for the rest of your mortal lives. In the presence of God and these witnesses, this day, I pronounce you husband and wife, legally and lawfully married for as long as you both shall live. Cameron, you may kiss your wife.”
Cameron lowered his head and pressed his mouth to Jasmine’s for a prolonged kiss that elicited a smattering of laughter. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m honored to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Cameron Averill Singleton.” Whistling and applause followed the announcement as Cameron’s fraternity brothers, all wearing black-and-red-striped ties, broke into their fraternity hymn.
Lamar waited for the wedding party to leave the ballroom and then followed the other wedding guests into an adjoining ballroom for the cocktail hour. The space had been set up nightclub style with low tables positioned in front of loveseats and banquettes. There were also bar tables and stools. The guests were lining up at the open bars, at opposite ends of the ballroom, for liquid refreshment.
He offered Mrs. Attenborough his arm as she leaned heavily on her cane for support. He’d replied to the invitation that he was attending unaccompanied. There was a woman he would have considered bringing as his plus-one but then changed his mind, because their relationship was solely physical and not romantic in nature. As the widowed father of a ten-year-old girl he refused to expose his daughter to those with whom he occasionally slept. And he made certain they lived far enough away from New Orleans so they wouldn’t encounter one another.
“Something smells good,” Mrs. Attenborough said, smiling.
He nodded and smiled. “If Chez Toussaints is catering, then I’m certain everything is going to be delicious.” The waitstaff was busy circulating with trays of hot and cold hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne, Bellinis, and kir royale. He assisted Mrs. Attenborough as she folded her body down on a loveseat. “Is there anything you’d like to drink?”
The woman waved her bejeweled hand. “No. Now go and enjoy yourself. I’m just going to sit here and people-watch.”
Lamar accepted a flute of champagne and a mesquite-smoked brisket slider from passing waiters. The chipotle-rubbed melt-in-the-mouth beef topped with coleslaw was one of more than three dozen dishes available to more than one hundred invitees. Red-jacketed servers standing behind long banquet tables were offering small plates of shrimp etouffée, fried catfish, and chicken fingers, with accompanying dipping sauces, okra and corn fritters, red beans and rice, spicy smothered shrimp, and Creole crab dip with pita chips. He ate sparingly, because he wanted to save his appetite for the sit-down dinner that was to follow.
The event planner and her staff ushered everyone into another ballroom where banquet-style tabletops were dressed with white satin showcasing votives and vases filled with orange orchids atop mirrors. Lamar returned to Mrs. Attenborough and assumed his role as her escort.
She leaned against his side. “You should be hanging out with some of these young, single girls and not a woman old enough to be your grandmother.”
Lamar patted the hand tucked into the bend of his elbow with his free one. “I happen to like hanging out with you.” He didn’t tell the octogenarian there was only one hopefully single girl he was interested in who’d promised to dance with him.
Once everyone was seated, the planner nodded to the DJ, who lightly tapped the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron Singleton.”
Lamar stood and clapped with the others as Cameron escorted Jasmine across the marble floor to the bridal table set on a raised dais. Nydia followed with the best man. He retook his seat, silently applauding his good luck to be seated opposite the wedding party.
* * *
Nydia knew once Tonya and Gage opened their restaurant at DuPont Inn it would become an instant success. The Toussaints chefs had prepared an exquisite sit-down gourmet dinner beginning with white asparagus soup topped with sturgeon caviar, Meyer lemon-avocado puree, and asparagus tempura, and followed the soup with a bite-size Caesar salad with shards of parmesan, shaved romaine, and creamy Caesar dressing.
Champagne and wine flowed to accompany dishes of wild-caught prawns with watermelon, Serrano ham, and watercress. Those requesting meat and chicken dishes were offered Moroccan rubbed double-chop rack of lamb, cowboy steaks with smoked shallot butter, and honey-glazed game hens.
Each course was more stunning and delicious than the previous one: ravioli of wild salmon carpaccio and avocado topped with caviar and roasted beets, chilled marinated lobster with fresh lychee and green papaya, and the main course of Thai-style lobster with grilled mussels, lime-coconut milk infusion, fried Thai basil, bok choy, and baby carrots.
When Jasmine told Nydia the Singletons were hosting back-to-back soirees at the same venue she had insisted the Toussaints vary the menus. They’d planned to offer their signature Cajun and Creole dishes for the cocktail hour and Asian and international cuisine for the sit-down dinner. She had convinced Cameron to forego many wedding rituals like champagne toasts with announcements from the best man and maid of honor, their first dance together as husband and wife, father-daughter dance, tossing the garter, bouquet, and the symbolic cake cutting, because she did not want a repeat of the traditions of her first wedding. And in lieu of gifts, they’d urged their guests to donate to their favorite charities.
Nydia raised her water goblet to her mouth and stared at Lamar over the rim. She didn’t know if it had been arranged beforehand, but they had an unobstructed view of each other. She hadn’t thought about the engineer asking her to dance with him at the wedding until she noticed him sitting in the row behind Cameron’s family members. He looked incredibly handsome in a midnight-blue tailored suit, white shirt, and silver silk tie. A hint of a smile parted Nydia’s lips when Lamar raised his own glass in a silent salute and inclined his head, acknowledging their recognition of each other. She lowered her eyes, her smile still in place. It was obvious Lamar was flirting with her, and she liked it.
Since her final break with Danny, Nydia had consciously thwarted the advances of any man who appeared even remotely interested in her. The owner of one of the restaurants whose books she maintained had asked to take her out, and she was forthright when she told him she never mixed business with her social life. What she didn’t tell him was even if she didn’t work for him, he wasn’t someone whom she would consider dating.
And she had been truthful when she told Millie that she was happy for Danny, but there was no way she wanted to revive her relationship with him. Fame was certain to change him; she refused to compete with his homeboys and other women for his attention, and she was certain he would cheat on her because it would be hard for him to resist all of the panties thrown his way. Nydia had attended a number of social events where Danny had performed with the house band, and she’d overheard women talk about wanting “to do” the lead singer. One even went as far to say: “The minute he drops that puta I’d be on him like stink on shit.” She’d dropped him months ago, and they were welcome to him.
“I don’t think I can eat another morsel,” she whispered to Jasmine, as the waitstaff cleared away the remains of dinner; at the same time dessert tables were set up on the far side of the ballroom.
“I’m going to wait for dessert,” Jasmine said. “I want to see what . . .” Her words trailed off when the DJ lowered the volume on the soft jazz that had played throughout the dinner and his sonorous voice echoed throughout the ballroom’s hidden speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom decided they wanted more dancing than talking and toasting, so it’s time for you to get up and move. And since this is a celebration I’m going to start you out with a Kool and the Gang anthem.”
Nydia smiled when “Celebration” blared from the powerful PA system. Many of the guests were up on their feet as they sang along with the classic tune. She did not have time to react when Philip stood up and extended his hand.
“May I have this dance?”
She met his bright blue eyes, smiling, and placed her hand on his outstretched palm. “Yes, you may.”
Nydia did not lack for partners as she danced with Jasmine’s father, Cameron’s father, brothers, and brother-in-law, and Jasmine’s uncle Keith. Keith and Danita Moore had closed their Long Island bed-and-breakfast for the weekend to attend their niece’s wedding.
She’d just returned to her table when she saw Lamar approach, knowing he had come to claim his promised dance. Not only did he look good, but he also smelled wonderful. His cologne was a tantalizing combination of sandalwood and musk. Even with four-inch heels and her stylized hair atop her head, he still towered over her by at least four inches. And seeing him this close also made her aware, despite the cropped gray hair, he was younger than at first glance.
“I suppose you’ve come to claim your dance,” she said, smiling.
Lamar smiled. “Sí, señorita.”
Nydia did not have time to react to his speaking Spanish when he led her out onto the dance floor and spun her around and around to Marc Anthony’s “Nadie Como Ella.” She knew Jasmine had added that particular song to the playlist because it was one of her favorites sung by the salsa Grammy winner.
Within seconds of Lamar resting his hands at her waist, she lost herself in the man and in the music as he led her across the dance floor, easily following his fluid movements as if they’d choreographed it. Her hips had taken on a life of their own as she dipped and swayed to Marc singing “No One Like Her.” Lamar wasn’t just a good dancer, he was excellent, twirling her around and around on her toes before dipping her low to the thunderous applause reverberating throughout the ballroom.
The song ended, her head inches above the floor, Lamar’s warm breath sweeping over her mouth. “Please let me up.” Her heart beat a double-time rhythm as she struggled to catch her breath. And sharp pain from the incision on her right side was a reminder that she was still healing.
Lamar flashed a wide grin, his perfectly aligned teeth showing whitely in his face. “Gracias por el baile.”
“Where did you learn to speak Spanish?”
“I’ll tell you if you agree to another dance.”
Her right side was throbbing from the exertion. Nydia shook her head. “Only if it’s a slow number.” As if on cue, the lights dimmed and the DJ announced he was going give everyone a chance to catch their breath with some slow jams.
Lamar tightened his hold around Nydia’s waist. “The DJ must have read your mind.”
She laughed. “Lucky me.”
“No. Lucky us.”
Nydia rested her left hand on Lamar’s shoulder. “Where did you learn to salsa?”
Easing back, he stared down at her. “I thought you wanted to know how I learned to speak Spanish.”
“That, too.”
A beat passed. “I learned it from one of my college classmates who was from East Harlem.”
Nydia stopped in mid-step and would have lost her balance if Lamar hadn’t steadied her. “I live in East Harlem.”
He blinked once. “You’re kidding.”
She shook her head, smiling. “No I’m not. Talk about a small world.”
Lamar dropped his arm but did not let go of her hand. “Come with me. We need to find a place where we can talk without having to shout over the music.”
She held back. “Wait here. I want to tell Jasmine where I’m going if she needs me for anything.”
Lamar nodded. “I’ll be outside.” Turning, he walked out of the ballroom.
Nydia found Jasmine dancing with her husband. “Excuse me, Cameron. I need to talk to your wife for a minute.”
Cameron smiled. “No problem.” He walked away to give them some privacy.
Looping her arm through Jasmine’s, Nydia whispered in her ear. “I’m going to the hotel lounge to talk with Lamar. And by the way, he speaks Spanish.”
Jasmine’s eyes grew wide. “Say what?”
Pinpoints of heat pricked Nydia’s face as she recalled what she’d said to Jasmine about becoming involved with a married man before she was told Lamar was a widower. “He learned it from a friend, and that means he probably overheard me telling you that I’ll never become a married man’s appetizer or dessert, but his main dish.”
“Do you intend to apologize to him for the remark?”
“No! I meant every word I said.”
Jasmine gave her a long, penetrating stare. “You like him, don’t you?”
“I don’t know enough about him to like him.” Nydia realized she sounded defensive, but it was the truth. “I find him intriguing.”
“Cuidadoso, chica,” Jasmine teased, “or you’ll find yourself packing your bags and moving to Nawlins to hook up with your new man.”
“That’s not happening. If I move down here it will be to become the accountant for the DuPont Inn, and not because of a man.” Nydia released Jasmine’s arm. “I’ll catch you up later about Lamar, because your husband is giving me the stink-eye for monopolizing his wife.”
Jasmine smiled. “Buena suerte, chica.”
Nydia waved her hand at the same time she shook her head. There was no need for Jasmine to wish her luck. After tonight, she doubted whether she would ever see Lamar again.