Chapter 6
A small band played soft jazz music in the large two-story foyer, where a beautiful pearl white baby grand piano sat tucked in the corner.
As beautiful a scene as it was, Sunny couldn’t enjoy any of it. Her eyes were too busy darting back and forth looking for this Mark person she’d met earlier.
She didn’t know Mark. She knew Markez, who she took to calling Kez after their first kiss. Kez had a little bit of an edge to him, and big dreams of being the next Johnny Cochran, except he would never, in his words, “Defend no motherfucking coons.” Kez was all about righting wrongs and addressing the injustices of the world.
Mark…well, he was somebody else.
Earlier, after she showered, she lay on the plush queen bed in her room and picked up the iPhone her sons had forced her to switch to. She struggled through the screens until she got to the internet and did a quick search for Markez Bennett. When that turned up nothing, she searched for Dr. Mark Bennett.
Jackpot.
Greater Memphis Plastic Surgery Team. There he was in his white coat. More handsome than any man needed to be, but without the arrogance good-looking male doctors usually projected.
His partner was handsome, too. But he wasn’t important right now.
Wait.
A TikTok?
She x’d out quick, not quite ready for a Kez who danced with children on the internet.
Then she dialed Tigra, her best friend.
“Hey, girl,” she answered on the first ring. “I’m packing right now, so don’t start with me.”
“It’s not about that.” Sunny took a deep breath. “Giiiiiiiirl…”
“Oh, shit. What happened? And do I need some wine?”
“I don’t know.” Sunny paused to take a deep breath. “Okay, so I’m here, right? This giant beachfront villa owned by this rich plastic surgeon who just happens be my first love from college.”
“Damn. That’s deep.”
“We haven’t talked yet. I’m kinda nervous, honestly.”
Tigra waited a beat. “Is he single?”
“That’s all you care about, huh?”
Her laughter echoed through the receiver, tickling Sunny’s ears. “If it means getting you some new penis, then, yeah.”
Sunny closed her eyes, her patience running thin. “So, what do I do?”
“About what? If he’s single, you know what to do. If not, do what you went down there to do. How’s Davion?”
“He’s…hanging in there.”
“Girl, get that boy down the damn aisle,” Tigra said. “Are his friends there yet?”
“They get here Friday, same as you and the hoe. These first few days are just for the families to get acquainted.”
“Mm hm. Sounds like you’re acquainted with the daddy already.”
“Bye, Tigra.”
“Text me with updates so I’m not walking in there blind.”
“It’s a wedding, not a gang initiation.”
She’d said that, but now, as she stood in the foyer, fidgeting in her red cocktail dress, she noted how divided they all were. Two factions. The Dixons and the Bennetts.
Brooklyn rushed over with Davion and two young men in tow. Her beaded white mermaid gown was stunning, and also bridal, which was fitting for the occasion.
“Ms. Sunny, I want you to meet my little brothers. That’s Drew, and that’s Vince.”
Sunny offered a smile to the two boys. Handsome, just like their daddy. “Nice to meet you.”
Drew looked at Davion in awe, whispering, “Bruh, that’s your mom?”
All but Davion laughed at that.
He’d never been fond of how his friends looked at his mother. Or each other, whenever she walked in the room. The snickers. The elbows to each others’ sides. He’d been ignoring it since his friends hit puberty, except for the time he punched Andre Mcrary in the mouth for saying, “Heeeeyyyyy Ms. Parker,” after she walked by him to get to the kitchen to make them some brownies.
Davion wasn’t even the violent type, but he was protective of his mother. So when his soon-to-be brother-in-law made his comment, Davion’s jaw clenched so tight, pain shot through his head.
“That ain’t funny,” he gritted out. “Show some respect.”
“Lighten up, D,” Sunny shot back, because flattery never hurt anybody, especially when they were forty-seven years old and still healing from the pain of losing their husband to a younger woman.
Drew tossed a, “My bad,” at them before walking off toward the bar.
The music changed just then.
“This sounds so familiar,” Brooklyn said, tilting her head, her eyes narrowing in concentration. “Babe, what song is this?”
Davion stared into space, listening intently. “Mama, you used to play this all the time, didn’t you?”
It was true, but Sunny said nothing as she listened to the band’s rendition of “Beauty” by Dru Hill. She’d played it at home countless times over the years, but she’d never told anybody the reason she loved it so much.
Davion and Brooklyn looked at her expectantly.
“Sounds like Dru Hill,” was all Sunny said before she took another sip of champagne, wondering if it was a coincidence. It had to be. There was no way it could be anything else.
Orion waltzed up holding a glass of something brown, prompting Davion to grab his fiancée’s hand and head in the other direction, leaving Sunny alone with her ex-husband.
“Damn, Sunny.” His eyes roamed her body indecently. “You still got it.”
Without looking at him, she muttered, “Thanks.”
He leaned closer, whispering, “Come by my room later?” in her ear.
Despite her body’s subtle response to this words, she took a step to the side. “You thinking with your little head is what got us all in this mess in the first place.”
“What mess?”
She finally turned to look at him. “Did you notice how your son ran in the other direction as soon as you walked up?”
“He’s still pissed,” he said with an infuriating shrug. “How many times do we have to rehash this?”
She shook her head. “You better hope this all works out. If not, it’s gonna be real embarrassing for all involved.”
Ding, ding, ding!
Everyone quieted at the clinking sound.
“Good evening,” Mark said from his place in front of the band. Sunny swallowed hard, wondering how he’d just materialized out of thin air. Like something in a dream.
Which is exactly what he looked like in that black suit.
She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around her flute.
“I want to thank everybody for being here,” he continued. “I hope the Bennetts and the Dixons are getting acquainted. We’ll all be related in a few days.”
He paused as they chuckled.
“Brook, Davion, y’all come on up here.”
The couple made their way across the marble floor and stood next to Mark.
“I promised Brook I’d keep this short.” He took a deep breath. “It’s not easy to give away your only daughter. Brook has been a joy to me and everybody who knows her for twenty-five years. I’ve only known Davion for a couple of years now, but this young man is also a joy. I already think of him like a son.”
Orion made a noise at that.
“Now, I raise my glass to the two of you,” Mark said. “This weekend is a celebration of you and your love. Cheers.”
A chorus of voices repeated the word, then drank in honor of young love. When Brooklyn hugged her father, her, “Thank you, Daddy,” was audible in the microphone he held behind her back. Davion stood stone-faced, a look that made Sunny even more uneasy than she already was.
She had to get that boy down the aisle somehow.
“What you think about ol’ boy?”
She tore her eyes away from their son. “Who?”
“Mark. He acts like he got a stick up his ass, don’t he?”
She couldn’t argue that point. Mark did seem a little uptight. Very different from Kez. But all she said was, “I haven’t really talked to him. I don’t know. Seems nice.”
“We talked in his man cave. He’s kinda uppity.”
“You’re one to talk,” she laughed. “Your parents are the most uppity—“
“Aye, aye. Let’s not start talking about my folks.”
“Well. Just saying.”
“Yeah, it’s whatever. Listen, am I seeing you later?” His eyes roamed her body again. “I like this dress on you, but I think it would look even better in a pile on the floor.”
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed in her clutch.
Saved by the bell.
She dug it out and stared, confused by the notification.
Mark Bennett wants to send you a message .
Her heart thundered in her chest. She looked around like she’d been caught doing something wrong, then took another step away from Orion.
She hit Accept.
Her lips curved into a slow smile as she read the words on her screen.
Did you hear our song?