Secret Silver Nights. Zuri DayЧитать онлайн книгу.
reached the marble-floored foyer but stopped at the sound of his mother’s voice. Aside from his grandparents and very occasionally his father, his mother was the only one who called him by his given name. And usually only when she had something very serious, or chiding, to convey. He took a breath to prepare himself and turned around.
“Yes, Mother?”
“I just wanted to remind you about tomorrow’s Sunday brunch. It’s been almost a year since I’ve had almost all of my children in one zip code, and I want everyone at the table.”
“You’ve already reminded me, Mom, remember? Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
“Well,” she said, straightening the silk tie that perfectly matched his tailored suit, “I’m just making sure.”
“What would make you think I’d not come after giving my word?”
Jennifer’s voice dropped. “Whatever or whoever has you almost running from a very successful fundraiser with a gleam in your eye.”
Geez, am I that obvious? Maybe, but once again Niko answered by not answering. He kissed his mother on the forehead. “Thank you so much for everything you did today. Without your great taste and keen eye, this affair would not have been nearly as successful.”
Jennifer chuckled. “Nice try, son, but I don’t distract so easily. Feel free to have her join us if you’d like.”
“Goodbye, Mother. See you tomorrow.”
“Love you, son.”
“I love you more.”
Walking to the car, his phone rang. “Hello, Ashley.”
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“Just left a fundraiser, now headed home to change before going to dinner.”
“Then my timing is perfect. I haven’t eaten, either. Tell me where you’re going and I’ll meet you there.”
“This is a business dinner.”
“Oh, okay. Listen, I wanted to thank you for the generous arrangement you made with our customers earlier today. We’re booked solid for the next two weeks.”
“My newest mayoral rival provided breakfast. I had to step up my game.”
“Mo Slater? She’s been cozying up to my mom, who’s taken the bait. I think she’s an opportunist, and I think you have nothing to worry about.”
“I appreciate that.”
“So...what are you doing after dinner?”
“I have plans but appreciate your support. Take care, Ashley.”
Niko loosened his tie as he arrived at his home, mere blocks away from his parents’ abode. He thought about what his grandfather had told him when he’d shared his plans to enter politics.
“Your life won’t be your own,” Walter Drake had told him, a few terms as city councilman in his native New Orleans giving him a personal perspective from which to speak. “Your time, either. Get ready for everyone to want a piece of you. But being a dedicated public servant has its own unique rewards.”
Niko had listened keenly to his grandfather, who he now counted as one of his most valued political consultants. On one thing Niko most definitely agreed. There were rewards to throwing one’s hat into the political ring. Niko wondered if there was any possibility that tonight’s date could prove to be one of them.
Monique stepped inside the entrance to the exclusive Paradise Cove Supper Club, located just inside the city’s equally elite golf course available by membership only. While not an avid golfer, she’d been to the course and had also dined at this restaurant. Thanks to her godmother, she knew firsthand about the skillful hands of its classically trained Brazilian chef, who loved to add new twists to traditional dishes. She also made sure she dressed to impress, and this time she didn’t even lie to herself about the reason. Niko was why she’d chosen the never-before-worn Calvin Klein sheath dress that was simple but tailored to fit like a glove, caressing but not squeezing every one of her curves. The royal-blue color highlighted her deeply tanned skin, and the softly rounded neckline, jeweled choker and gently upswept hair with wisps remaining against the crook of her neck gave special emphasis to that area. She’d kept her makeup minimal—a dusting of powder, mascara and gloss—letting her designer silver slingbacks adorned lightly with crystals provide just the right amount of understated bling.
“Good evening.” The genteel-looking man made a slight bow as he greeted her.
He was so formal in his demeanor that Monique almost felt she should curtsy in response. Instead, she graced him with a smile. “Good evening.”
“Forgive my presumptiveness, but a woman as beautiful as you is surely not dining alone. Are you perhaps here to meet Mr. Drake?”
“I am,” Monique responded, hiding her surprise. “Has he arrived?”
“He has indeed, Ms. Slater, and instructed me to have you join him at once. Please, come this way.”
Monique held her smile, discreetly looking around the restaurant and nodding at those who met her eye. She was also trying to see Niko, trying to get in that first look, the one that seemed to take her breath away no matter how often she saw him. But they walked through the entire main restaurant and she hadn’t seen a trace. When the maître d’ turned down a short hallway, Monique was even more confused. I wasn’t aware of another section. This place must be bigger than I thought.
They reached an ornately decorated set of brass double doors. The maître d’ knocked twice, paused a couple of seconds and then turned the knob. “After you,” he said, holding the door as he stood back.
Monique walked through the door and was immediately grateful for the discipline that allowed her to calmly watch as Niko stood next to a table set for two and continue the steps to meet him. Especially when her insides quivered, her panties instantly moistened and once again the air managed to leave the room. He was handsome. Even a blind woman could see that. But living in L.A. and spending as much time on the beach as her schedule allowed, she saw gorgeous, well-chiseled Adonises all the time. What was it about this man, Monique wondered, that made her lose all semblance of control? It was a trait that had served her well all of her life and now it was as if she couldn’t even spell the word let alone possess an ounce of its attributes. The room was small and intimate, yet in the steps it had taken to reach him she’d been able to steady her breathing and find her tongue.
“Good evening,” she said, holding out her hand. “Thanks again for inviting me to dinner.”
After giving an almost imperceptible nod to the maître d’, Niko enveloped her small, dainty hand in his strong, masculine one before lifting it to his lips for the wispiest of kisses. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Slater.” He stepped away from her and pulled out her chair. “Please.”
She sat, trying very hard not to imagine that she was Cinderella and Niko her prince. “Thank you.”
She lowered her head to place the napkin on her lap. But that didn’t stop her from stealing a couple of discreet glances as he walked over to his chair and sat down. She noticed that he too had changed from the flattering slacks, shirt and pullover that he’d worn at the beauty salon. The navy-colored suit that now graced his body was immaculate and looked so soft that she wanted to squeeze his arm. Not only to touch the fabric but to see if the biceps she’d perceived beneath the cloth was real. In a field dominated by men wearing nice suits, she should have not been bothered in the slightest. But there was something about Niko that made him stand out. It was the combination, she decided, smiling over her glass as she took a sip of water. Looks, brains, money and class mixed with just the right amount of swagger and sex appeal. Lethal. Dangerous. And damned if she didn’t want to go ahead and play