“Now I know you really like me,” Nayo said as she smoothly maneuvered Ivan’s Stingray to the curb only feet from Kyle Chatham’s Georgian-inspired home along the street known as Strivers’ Row.
“Why’s that?” Ivan asked.
“You let me drive your mistress.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, doll face. I’d never equate an inanimate object to my mistress.”
Nayo shut off the engine, handing Ivan the keys. When she’d suggested taking a taxi to Kyle’s house, Ivan rebuffed her suggestion, saying he was driving. They’d walked three blocks to the garage where he kept his car, and when the attendant exited the twenty-four-hour garage driving the classic sports car, she couldn’t conceal her surprise. Her brother, who collected, restored and sold classic cars, owned the same model as Ivan. Even the gleaming black paint job was the same.
“Most guys I know wouldn’t let a woman touch their cars,” she said. “I knew a few who wouldn’t let a woman even sit in their precious vehicles.” The word vehicles came out in three distinct syllables.
“Any time you want to drive it, you can.”
Nayo waited as Ivan got out of the low-slung car and came around to the driver’s side to assist her. Extending his hand, he pulled her gently to her feet. Then he gathered her in a close embrace and kissed her.
“Get a room, Campbell!” shouted a deep voice a short distance away.
Ivan eased back but didn’t drop his arms when he saw Duncan Gilmore, who’d just gotten out of a taxi. His fiancée stood at his side, smiling. “Mind your neck, DG,” he teased, smiling broadly.
Nayo knew she was staring at the man Ivan called DG, but she couldn’t help it. The man was past fine. He was gorgeous! And the tall woman standing next to him was his female counterpart. Her thick, dark, chemically straightened hair was pulled off her face and secured with a narrow, black-velvet ribbon. She and the man Ivan called DG shared the same olive-tawny complexion, but whereas DG’s eyes were a clear gold color hers were a deep brown.
Duncan Gilmore stepped forward, extending his hand to Nayo. “Duncan Gilmore. This lady is Tamara Walcott.”
Ivan’s arm tightened around Nayo’s waist. She wore a bottle-green, sheepskin-lined, three-quarter swing coat. “DG, Tamara, this is Nayo Goddard.”
Nayo shook hands with Duncan and Tamara. “It’s nice meeting you.”
Ivan lowered his head, kissing Nayo’s hair. “Why don’t you and Tamara go inside? I’ll get DG to help me bring in the wine and dessert.”
Waiting until Nayo and Tamara disappeared into the three-story, buff-brick building with white-stone trim, Ivan turned to see Duncan staring at him. He knew his friend was curious about Nayo.
“What, DG?”
“What what, Ivan?”
“I guess you want to know about her?”
Duncan, crossing his arms over the front of his bulky sweater, affected an expression of indifference. “Did I ask about her, Ivan? You know I can’t keep up with the number of women you hang with.”
“This one is special.” The admission came out before Ivan could censor himself.
“How special, brother?”
Ivan ducked his head, smiling. “Very, very special. Now I know what you were talking about when you met Tamara. Nayo’s different from the others.”
Duncan lifted his silky eyebrows. “We’ll see.”
“Hold up, DG. What do you mean by ‘We’ll see’?”
“I’ve lost count of the number of women I’ve seen you with over the years. To me, Nayo is just another one to add to the names and faces I’ve forgotten.”
Ivan’s expression mirrored his annoyance and resentment. He’d always been there for Duncan, especially when he’d lost his mother and his fiancée, and he was annoyed at DG’s cynical response.
“Forget it, DG.” He went back to the Corvette. “Help me bring something inside.”
Duncan Gilmore hesitated, then followed his friend. He knew Ivan was upset with him. But how did he expect him to react? He’d never heard “love them and leave them” Ivan Campbell talk about any woman being special.
He’d known Ivan to date a woman once or twice, then move on to the next. It was as if he feared committing to one woman. Even Kyle had engaged in relationships of long duration, had been, in fact, the only one of the three friends to propose marriage before his thirtieth birthday.
“I’m sorry, Ivan.”
“What the hell are you apologizing about?”
Duncan stared at the familiar mask of indifference that turned his best friend into a stranger. “I didn’t mean to minimize your feelings for Nayo.”
Ivan picked up a case of wine, shoving it at Duncan. “Take that inside.” The two men stared at each other with what might’ve become a visual beat-down. The beginnings of a smile flitted across his features. “Apology accepted.”
Duncan smiled back. “She’s cute. There’s something about her that reminds me of Ava.”
“It’s probably the short hair and their coloring.” Ivan lifted a large box filled with delicate Italian pastries.
“Where did you meet her and how long have you two been together?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Ivan said when he saw Kyle Chatham standing in the doorway.
* * *
Nayo felt as if she’d known Ava Warwick and Tamara Walcott for years when she sat in the ultramodern black-and-white kitchen with the two women, She noticed the exquisite diamond engagement rings on their left hands.
The three had settled on stools at the cooking island sipping wine and munching on assorted crostinis with tomato and basil, spicy shrimp, white bean with sage and avocado and goat cheese, while the men retreated to a room in the rear of the house to watch football.
Ava rolled her slanting dark eyes. “Eight more weeks and then it will be over,” she whispered.
Tamara sucked her teeth loudly. “Don’t forget there’s still the Super Bowl.”
Nayo studied the two women. Ava Warwick, a social worker, and E.R. doctor Tamara Walcott were engaged to marry Kyle Chatham and Duncan Gilmore the following year. She and Ava both had short hair and similar coloring, but Ava was taller, her body fuller than Nayo’s. Tamara’s was statuesque, her figure full and undeniably womanly.
“Don’t remind me,” Ava drawled. “Kyle said he was going to try to get tickets for the Super Bowl for himself, Jordan, Duncan and Ivan.”
Tamara took a sip of wine, while peering over the rim of her glass at Ava. “Duncan didn’t mention anything to me about going to the Super Bowl.” She turned to Nayo. “Did Ivan say anything to you about the Super Bowl?”
Nayo shook her head. “Not a word.” How could she tell them that she had just met Ivan and didn’t know enough about him?
Tamara reached for another crostini. “How did you meet Ivan?”
“He came to a gallery where I had a showing of photographs.”
Ava sat up straighter. “You’re a photographer?”
Nayo smiled. “Yes.”
“I’m still looking for a photographer for my wedding,” Ava said. “My wedding planner has tried to get a good one, but all seemed to be booked.”
“When and where are you getting married?”
“It’s scheduled for Valentine’s Day in San Juan, Puerto Rico. If you’re coming with Ivan, it would work out perfectly.”
“Don’t you want to see my work, Ava?” Nayo asked.
“How was your showing?”
A beat passed as Nayo gazed at Ava. “It was very successful.”
Ava waved her hand. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’ll look at your work. Meanwhile, don’t book any events for that day.”
Shifting slightly on the stool, Nayo gave Tamara a questioning look. “Do you also need a photographer?”
Tamara touched the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I’m not getting married until June, so it’s not too early to talk about photographers. I’d like to see your work, then Duncan and I will make a decision.”
“Where are you getting married?” Nayo asked her.
“We’re getting married aboard a ship here in the city. Duncan has already reserved space on the Celestial.”
“Are you both using the same wedding planner?”
Tamara and Ava shared a smile. “Yes,” they chorused.
“Kyle mentored the husband of the owner of Signature Bridals when he was in law school,” Ava said proudly.
“Do you know how difficult it is to become a Signature bride?” Nayo asked. “I’ve heard rumors that the mother of a prospective bride offered to pay Signature Bridals a cool million dollars to bump another bride from a particular wedding date so her daughter could have it.”
“Did Tessa Whitfield-Sanborn take it?”
“The last I heard she refused to take the woman’s telephone calls.”
Tamara shook her head. “Now that’s what you call ballsy. Didn’t the woman know that some people just can’t be bought, no matter the price?”
“Thank goodness for that,” Ava drawled.
Tamara gave Ava a knowing look. “You’re talking smack because you’re going to be a Signature bride.”
“So are you,” Ava countered.
“Only because your man knows the husband of the owner,” Nayo said.
Raising her wineglass, Ava toasted Nayo. “You’re right about that. It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.”
“Here, here,” Nayo and Tamara chorused, touching glasses.
Kyle Chatham strolled into the kitchen. When Ivan had introduced Nayo to the attorney, he didn’t shake her hand, but kissed her cheek while welcoming her to his home. He was the perfect prototype for tall, dark and handsome. The sprinkling of gray in his cropped hair only served to enhance his good looks.
“What’s on the menu for halftime snacks?”
Ava pointed to a tray of crostini. “We’re having these.”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed as he peered closely at the small circles of toasted baguettes. “Is that it?”
Ava gave him an incredulous look. “Yes, that’s it. What were you expecting?”
“I thought you were going to make buffalo wings with an assortment of chips and dips, not these little froufrou doodads.”
“Tamara said crostini is healthier than wings.”
Nayo exchanged a glance with Tamara. It was as if they’d connected telepathically. As if on cue, they slipped off their stools and prepared to leave the kitchen, but Kyle’s outburst impeded their smooth escape.
“Healthier!” he shouted.
“What’s the holdup, Kyle?” Ivan asked, walking into the kitchen, Duncan several steps behind him.
Kyle gave his friends a wry smile. “The ladies have decided we need to eat healthier. Therefore our halftime cuisine is itty-bitty French bread topped with veggies.”
“No wings?” Ivan and Duncan said in unison. Their crestfallen expressions were priceless.
Clapping a hand over her mouth, Nayo was able to muffle the laughter bubbling up from her throat. She couldn’t believe grown men were acting like children because they were denied their favorite party food.
Duncan shook his head. “We get together once a week to watch football, and this is the first time we’ve been subjected to halftime lockdown.”
Ivan, muscular arms crossed over a black, crewneck, cashmere sweater, glared at Kyle. “Handle your woman, Chatham.”
“It’s not Ava,” Kyle said.
“Then who is it?” Duncan asked. The expression on his face was disbelief.
Ivan stared at Nayo. “I know it’s not my woman, so it has to be yours, DG.”
Duncan slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Baby, you didn’t.”
Tamara rested her hands on her hips. She wore a pair of chocolate-brown stretch pants and a man-tailored white shirt. Overhead recessed light caught the brilliance of the emerald-cut diamond on her left hand. “Yes, I did. You have to learn to eat healthier.”
A rush of color flooded Duncan’s face, and his eyes appeared lighter than they actually were. “I eat healthy six days a week, and we are entitled to have a halftime snack once a week. And you’re lucky football has a short season. We could do this for every Yankee and Mets home game.” He looked at Ivan for support. “What if we meet at your place next Sunday for our MNO?”
“What’s an MNO?” Nayo asked.
“Men’s night out,” Kyle explained.
Nayo’s eyebrows lifted. “I see.” It was apparent that whenever the three men got together, they determined beforehand whether they would include their women.
Ivan met Nayo’s eyes. He was in a quandary. He always enjoyed hanging out with Kyle and Duncan, but that was before he’d met Nayo. His lifelong friends were his brothers; they would always have one another’s back, but things had changed. They all operated their own businesses out of the same building, yet they spent less downtime together. It was something he attributed to being an employer, rather than an employee.
Things had also changed because his two friends were engaged to be married, and their personal focus was now their future wives and eventually children. Ivan hadn’t realized it until today, but he wanted what Kyle and Duncan had: a stable relationship with one woman. Duncan’s comment that he hadn’t been able to keep up with the number of women he’d seen Ivan with over the years had cut to the quick.
Had he dated a lot of women?
Yes.
Had he slept with a lot of women?
No.
Had he fallen in love with any of them?
No.
He had professed to love one woman in his past, but realized after they parted that it was mere infatuation, more lust than love. What he felt for Nayo was different. She’d changed him inside and out. She’d softened his gruff exterior, making him laugh when he hadn’t wanted to laugh.
“What’s up, Ivan?” Duncan asked. “Are we going to meet at your place next Sunday?”
“I’m not able to commit right now. I have to check with Nayo.”
Duncan opened his mouth to challenge Ivan, but caught his fiancée’s warning look. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
Ava placed a spicy shrimp crostini on a napkin and handed it to Kyle. “Try this.”
He popped the small appetizer into his mouth, chewing slowly. A smile spread across his handsome features. “Hey, that’s good.” He pointed to another on the platter. “What’s this one?”
“Tomato and basil, darling,” Ava crooned.
Ivan moved closer to the platter, peering at the crostini. “I’ll take one with tomato and basil.”
Ava waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Why don’t you guys go back and watch your game? I’ll bring you a plate.” Waiting until the men retreated, she flashed a grin. “It worked, Tamara.”
Tamara gave Ava a soft fist bump. “What’s up with Ivan?” she whispered. “I’d expected him to step up and offer his house for next week, but he didn’t.”
Ava gave Nayo a long, penetrating stare. “I think Miss Nayo here has something to do with that. What’s up, girl?”
Nayo felt her face suffuse with heat as she sat down again. “Nothing.”
Tamara sucked her teeth. “Don’t be so modest, Nayo. Your man is whipped.”
Nayo did not respond to Tamara’s quip, because she didn’t have a response. Ivan wasn’t her man just because they’d slept together, and she didn’t know him well enough to determine if he’d mellowed.
“I know how to make buffalo wings without deep-frying them,” she said, instead.
“How?” Ava asked.
“You can use the same oven-bake method as you would with chicken. I usually coat them with Japanese panko bread crumbs after spraying them with a garlic-infused peanut oil. Panko crumbs are lighter than traditional bread crumbs, stay crisp longer and are healthier because they contain less salt and calories.”
“Okay,” Tamara drawled. “You could be onto something, Nayo. Maybe the guys can have their wings while eating healthier at the same time.”
“Tamara’s right,” Ava said. “Nayo, why don’t you convince Ivan to host next Sunday’s football outing and you make your panko buffalo wings?”
“Where did you learn about panko bread crumbs?” Tamara asked Nayo.
“My parents own a restaurant.”
“Where?” Ava asked.
“It’s upstate.”
Tamara squinted at her. “How far upstate?”
“It’s about forty miles from Lake Placid.”
Ava whistled softly. “Really upstate. How would you get there if you’re not driving?”
“I fly into the Adirondack regional airport and someone picks me up from there.”
Tamara reached for the bottle of wine and topped off everyone’s drinks. “How long have you known Ivan?”
Nayo had been anticipating the question. If she were to bond with the fiancées of Ivan’s two friends, then she had to be honest. “A week.”
“A week,” Ava repeated. “It’s only been a week and he’s deferring to you. Nice going, Nayo.”
“What are you talking about?” Nayo knew she sounded defensive, but she hadn’t wanted the two women to misconstrue her relationship with Ivan.
“You’ve turned your man into a teddy bear,” Ava said, smiling. “I’ve heard Ivan is an excellent therapist, but when he’s not being Dr. Campbell, the man can be quite formidable. The first time I met him I felt as if I was being interrogated. It didn’t take long for me to realize he was just being protective of his friend.”
“Don’t you mean brother?” Tamara asked. “Ivan, Duncan and Kyle are tighter than most brothers.” She set her wineglass on the countertop next to the double sink. “I better stop drinking or I’ll mess up dinner.”
Tamara, wiping crumbs off the granite surface with a napkin, asked, “What’s for dinner?”
“I decided to go down South tonight. We’ll start with a seafood gumbo, collard greens, blackened red-snapper filets and corn bread,” said Ava.
Nayo slid off her stool. “Do you have filé powder?” she asked Ava.
“No, I don’t. Why?”
“Gumbo is not gumbo without filé powder.”
Ava grimaced. “I’d send one of the guys out to the supermarket to pick up some, but I don’t want the proverbial mess to hit the fan.”
“I’ll ask Ivan,” Nayo volunteered.
“Good luck, girl,” Tamara muttered. Once Duncan zeroed in on the sports channel, nothing short of a nuclear explosion could distract him.
Nayo made her way past rooms filled with exquisite furnishings selected for comfort and entertaining. She approached the room where the three men sat on a leather grouping watching football on a large, wall-mounted television. Pockets doors were closed, and although she could see their mouths moving, she couldn’t hear what they were saying. It was obvious the room had been soundproofed.
She opened the door and the surround-sound system came at her like the roar of a jet engine. The volume was turned up so high that Nayo felt as if she were in a movie theater. Somehow she managed to get Kyle’s attention and he used a remote control to lower the volume.
“I’d like to see Ivan for a minute.”
Ivan rose to his feet when he heard Nayo’s voice. He went over to her. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I need you to go to the store and buy some filé powder. I’m making gumbo.”
He stared down at the woman who within the span of a week had turned his life upside down. What he was beginning to feel for her was so intense it was palpable. Ivan didn’t want to admit that he was falling in love with Nayo Goddard, but that was the only word he could come up with to identify the sensation he had whenever they occupied the same space. Reaching out, he brushed a curl off her forehead.
“Is there anything else you’ll need?”
“No. That’s it.” Nayo gave him gentle smile. “Thank you.”
Cradling her face in his palms, he lowered his head and brushed a kiss over her parted lips. “You’re welcome.” He watched Nayo retreat, and then turned to see Duncan and Kyle staring at him with more interest than they had in the game. “I have to go to the supermarket.”
Kyle gave him a questioning look. “I thought Ava and I bought everything she needed yesterday.”
“Nayo said she needs some filé powder to make gumbo.”
“And you’re going in the middle of the game?” Duncan asked.
“Stay out of it, Gilmore,” Kyle warned softly. “Somebody told me that your woman sent you to the store to pick up a home pregnancy kit.”
Ivan chuckled. “Now that’s where I draw the line. I stay out of the feminine-products aisle.”
“You and DG are still whipped,” Kyle crowed.
“And you’re not?” Duncan countered. “Face it, brothers. We are all whipped!”
Duncan and Kyle touched fists, silently acknowledging that falling in love with the right woman was worth wearing the letter W around their necks.