Tender to His Touch. Adrianne Byrd
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hips. “This is a big weekend for the university and I’m counting on you to be there.”
“I don’t see why,” Beverly said, straightening a rack of embellished skirts. Her trendy, high-end boutique, Hoops, was on North Highland Avenue and a steady stream of twentysomethings flowed into the store and left carrying enormous white shopping bags with the dainty Hoops logo. The sparkly chandelier, golden cherubs and tasteful furniture lent a chic, intimate feel to the place. “Aside from you and a couple of other people, I haven’t kept in touch with anyone from our graduating class.”
“Beverly, you were homecoming queen and everyone’s expecting you to be there.”
“That’s too bad, because I’m not going.”
“Give me one good reason why you can’t go.”
“I’ll give you three. For starters, I’m swamped here.” Selecting a dazzling sheath from off the rack, she slipped it off the gold, padded hanger and held it up to one of the mannequins in the front window. “I’m putting together the final touches for my new spring line, and I have to design a gown for Gabrielle Union to wear to an awards gala next month.”
“You seem stressed, Bev. Why don’t you let me take you out for lunch?”
“So you can pressure me into going to the reunion?” Beverly shook her head. “No way. I don’t have time for this right now. I’m up to my neck in paperwork and it’s going to take me the rest of the afternoon to fill the online orders.”
“Beverly, you’ve been dodging my calls for weeks and the reunion is less than a month away. I need to help finalize the rest of the plans for homecoming.”
She said nothing, just continued dressing the mannequin and humming to the Smokey Robinson song playing in the background.
Kyra heaved a heavy sigh. “So, that’s it? You’re not going and there’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind?”
Beverly gave a brisk nod, and then changed the subject. “I was at my favorite fabric store last week and it seemed the whole town was abuzz with the news of Terrence’s big return.”
“Yeah, his arrival has generated a lot of good press for the school. We’re received hundreds of online applications, and we had so much traffic on the Web site yesterday, it crashed!”
“I bet,” Beverly agreed. “After all, he is the pride of Hollington.”
“I’m lining up as many interviews as I can. I even contacted my old sorority sister, Tamara Hodges, about doing an article on Terrence becoming the Lions’ coach.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You got him to sign on already?”
“Not yet, but I will.”
Beverly started to speak, but her words were drowned out by a shrill, piercing laugh. Realizing they needed privacy, Kyra grabbed Beverly’s hand and dragged her into the back office. While the boutique was bright and glitzy, the office was a simple, understated space teeming with fashion magazines, invoices and poster boards. “Now,” Kyra began, closing the door and standing in front of it, “spill it. What’s the real reason you won’t go to the reunion?”
Beverly stood her ground. “You’re not going to change my mind, so you might as well save your breath.”
“The class of ninety-nine voted you homecoming queen, Beverly. How’s it going to look if you don’t show up?”
“Like I’m a popular fashion designer who has orders to fill.” Straightening up, she folded her arms across her chest, her gaze drifting to the open window. “Kyra, I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’ve moved on from beauty pageants and modeling contests. I want to be taken as a serious businesswoman and that’s not going to happen if I’m riding on top of a flowered float.”
In an effort to keep the peace, Kyra listened to what she had to say without interrupting. Beverly was frowning, and she could tell by the faraway look in her eyes that her mind was somewhere else. “Why does it feel like you’re blowing me off?”
“I’d never do that,” Beverly insisted, shaking her head. “We’re friends, remember?”
“Then can a sister get a discount on that gold Ferragamo gown?”
Beverly gave a brief sputter of laughter.
“Hanging out with old friends is just what you need. You’ve been divorced for almost two years, but you haven’t been on a single date. I’m not telling you to go out there and party like Paris Hilton, but live a little, girl! Go to the reunion, and have a good time. And if you see someone who catches your eye…” Kyra trailed off, her glossy red lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “There are going to be plenty of handsome, eligible brothers at the reunion, Bev. It would be a shame for you to miss out.”
A smile broke through. “You must be very good at your job,” she teased.
“I try,” Kyra sang, laughing. Sensing a subtle shift in her friend’s mood, and anxious to get her on board, she continued, “Homecoming weekend is your opportunity to shine. Do you know how much business you’ll drum up for the boutique just by being there wearing one of your gorgeous, one-of-a-kind creations?”
“I never even thought of that. It would be great for business, wouldn’t it?”
Kyra nodded. “How about I contact Tamara and ask her to do a piece in Luster about Hoops? It’s free publicity and last year the magazine surpassed Glamour magazine in sales.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, you’re going, all right,” Kyra vowed, lobbing an arm around Beverly’s shoulders, “because I won’t take no for an answer!”
That was exactly what Beverly was afraid of.
Chapter 2
“Girrrrl, you are going to get laid for sure in that dress.” Clarence, Beverly’s best friend and self-appointed relationship advisor, snapped his fingers and twirled her around so she could face the full-length mirror.
A cocky grin sloped across Beverly’s face. She did look good. The red cocktail dress hugged her curvy body like an extra layer of skin and she debated whether she even needed the thin silver belt. What was even more surprising was how much she loved her new hairstyle.
Clarence switched his hips and smacked his clear, shimmering lips. “Do I know how to hook my girl up or what?”
Beverly happily agreed. The shorter, darker do made her golden eyes pop and easily erased the past ten years from her face. She might actually pull this off.
“Now remember, whatever booty you get, fifteen percent of it is mine.”
Beverly howled and then bumped her hip against his. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”
“Love me, sweetheart. That’s what they all do with me.” He leaned forward and blew air kisses. Dressed in an immaculate pair of shiny denim jeans and a cloud-white shirt beneath a black merino sweater, Clarence was as sharp as any male model strutting down a Prada runway. On his youthful, effeminate face he wore the lightest touch of face powder and lip gloss.
“Well, I better go,” Clarence said as he turned away from the mirror and marched out of the bathroom. “It’s Friday night and you’re not the only bitch trying to get laid.”
Beverly laughed as she followed. “Thanks again, Clarence. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come over.”
“Uh-huh.” Clarence glanced around the large hotel suite, specifically the huge king-size bed.
“Look, I’m just staying here at the hotel during homecoming weekend because it’s a lot closer to Hollington College than my house. If I happened to have a few drinks, it’s easier to catch a cab here than risk driving all the way back out to the suburbs.”
Clarence