Sweet Silver Bells. Rochelle Alers
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she stripped down to her panties and put on a thick terry cloth bathrobe. She was given a cup of herbal tea and a questionnaire asking about her health status, including whether she was pregnant and/or had any implanted devices.
Twenty minutes later Crystal knew she’d made the right decision visit the spa. Her face anchored in the cushioned doughnut on the massage table, she closed her eyes and moaned softly when hot stones lined the length of her spine. She had her mother to thank for her turning her onto the practice of using heated stones dating back five thousand years to the Ayurveda, an ancient Indian healing tradition.
She found herself succumbing to the strong fingers of the masseuse easing the tightness in her shoulders and upper back, falling asleep and waking only when told to turn over.
The hot stone massage was followed by the application of oils made up of lavender and patchouli, and then a shower and a facial that left her moisturized face glowing. She lingered long enough for a mani/pedi.
After paying for the services, Crystal gave the masseuse and esthetician generous tips, feeling better than she had in weeks.
As she left the spa and walked through the lobby, Crystal had to decide whether she wanted to cook dinner for herself, order room service or eat in the hotel’s restaurant. Her step faltered as she headed in the direction of the elevators to find Joseph in a passionate embrace with a petite woman with a café-au-lait complexion and hair the color of ripened wheat.
Joseph lifted the woman off her feet at the same time his eyes met Crystal’s. She saw an expression of surprise freeze his features as he stared at her. She didn’t know why, but she felt like a voyeur even after she’d pulled her gaze away from the couple. Joseph had promised to cook for her the following day, and she wondered if the attractive blonde would join them.
Entering the elevator, she inserted the card key into the PH slot. Two’s company and three is a crowd. The familiar adage came to mind as the car rose quickly to the top floor.
Perhaps, she mused, Joseph should’ve waited to invite her to dinner before checking whether his girlfriend would show up. It was obvious her neighbor was faced with a dilemma, and because Crystal detested confrontation she was more than willing to accept his suggestion to cancel dinner. The ball, as the saying goes, was definitely in his court.
* * *
Joseph went completely still as he held his sister. When Bianca called from the concierge’s desk asking him to come down, he’d been surprised to hear from her. Then he saw Crystal stroll across the hotel lobby in sweats and flip-flops.
Once he and Crystal returned to the hotel, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, or comparing her to Kiara. He found himself transfixed by her soft drawling voice, her low, sensual laughter, the genuine affection she appeared to have for Xavier and Selena and the sparkle in her eyes whenever she interacted with Lily. He was completely mesmerized by the confidence and poise that seemed to come so naturally to her. And after comparing her to Kiara, he realized he’d wasted four years of his life with a woman with whom he had so little in common.
As a Cole, he would always put family first, but not with Kiara. Once she left Baltimore she refused to return or interact with her parents or anyone in her extended family. And whenever he mentioned meeting her family, she would fly into a rage, then not speak to him for days.
“Joseph, please put me down.” Bianca’s command broke into his musings.
“Sorry about that.” He gave her a long, penetrating stare. “How did you find me?” he asked.
A slight frown appeared between Bianca Cole-Wilson’s brilliant gold-green catlike eyes. “Diego told me you were going to be here for a few months. I need to talk to you.”
Joseph hadn’t seen his sister since Thanksgiving. Bianca, a premed senior at Duke University, hadn’t celebrated Christmas and New Year’s with the family because she’d spent the holiday in California with her sorority sisters with whom she shared off-campus housing.
Holding on to her hand, he steered to the bank of elevators. “We’ll talk upstairs.”
Bianca pulled back. “Can’t we talk down here?”
He gave her a questioning look. “What’s the matter?”
“Henri is waiting in the parking lot to drive me back to college.”
“Why are you going back so early? Don’t you have another week before classes begin again?”
“Yes, but I need to clean up my bedroom. I left clothes everywhere. It’s also my week to clean the kitchen and bathroom.”
“Why aren’t you flying up?”
“The jet is being serviced.”
Joseph nodded. Henri had been hired as Diego’s driver and bodyguard. The mandate that anyone with Cole blood was prohibited from flying on a commercial carrier was still in effect more than forty years after Regina Cole’s kidnapping. Instead of arriving at the airport hours before departure time, or going through long lines at the security gate, Bianca and her sorority sisters were seated in the Gulfstream G650 business jet within minutes of arriving at the Raleigh-Durham International Airport for their nonstop flight to LAX.
“Okay,” he said conceding. “We’ll talk in the lounge area. Would you like me to order something for you to eat or drink?” he asked when they were seated next to each other on a tan leather love seat.
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