Chapter -7- #3
She’s in a Paramore T-shirt and ripped jeans, her curls braided into cornrows. He doesn’t consider her a fashion expert. But on such short notice, the opinions of his sister, mom, and nephew are all he has.
Jamie turns to the judges. “Well?”
“Six out of ten,” Nic says. “Four-point deduction for the model’s attitude.”
He’s going to murder her.
“Ten!” At least he can depend on Mikah’s enthusiasm.
Leena says, “I liked the blue Armani one with the gold silk tie better.”
Denz shoves his fist into his mouth. He wants to hop on the kitchen island and cry.
When his parents bought the house, they hired famed interior designer Rosa Hernández for her decorative vision. But there was one room she couldn’t touch—the kitchen. That was his mom’s project.
Leena grew up in a smaller home. Two bedrooms for her parents, herself, Aunt Avis, and Uncle Rashad. The kitchen was their lifeline. A place to cook and dance and laugh. The second she married into the Carters, she wanted a space big enough to hold all of that and more.
The finished product is a masterpiece. All-white marble countertops, black cabinets and doors, crème de menthe walls. A walk-in pantry and wine fridge. Denz doesn’t consider himself religious, but this is his family’s church. His sanctuary.
Before finding an apartment with Jamie, Denz moved back home.
At night, when the house was blanketed in sleep, he’d sit on the island with his phone and a jar of peanut butter.
He’d study popular influencers’ accounts.
Find the best apps for editing photos. Cling to any interruption from the fact that he was brokenhearted.
Alone, licking peanut butter off a spoon. What real adults do after college.
“The jacket’s nice, sweetheart,” Leena says encouragingly.
“You look like a waiter,” Nic notes.
Jamie yells, “Auntie E, it’s a big no!”
Under the hiss of a garment steamer and bags being unzipped, Denz hears Eva snapping instructions to the two assistants she bullied into working on a Sunday. “It’s from Target ? Burn it. Give me the Milan suit.”
Leena pops a grape in her mouth from the bowl she’s sharing with Mikah. “What’s Braylon wearing?”
Denz loosens the top button of his shirt, stalling. That’s something he should know, right? What his fake boyfriend’s sporting to the biggest Valentine’s event in the city?
Nic’s eyes widen. “You don’t know what your own boyfriend is wearing.”
“Who cares?” Eva’s head appears in the kitchen entryway. “It’s Denzel’s night. Braylon’s arm candy.”
“He’s more than…” Denz stops when Eva raises a sharp eyebrow. Right. Braylon hasn’t won everyone over yet.
“At least you two get to spend the most romantic night of the year together,” Leena says.
Since Kami returned to work from maternity leave, Leena’s volunteered to watch Mikah on event nights. But her absence started before then. She hasn’t been to a party in years. Once 24 Carter Gold stepped away from weddings, holidays became their busiest times. And Kenneth never takes an event off.
Denz’s parents never spend Valentine’s Day with each other.
“Almost finished with look number five,” Eva announces.
Leena rubs Mikah’s curly ’fro. “Come on, baby. It’s movie time.”
Kami’s started introducing Mikah to all the age-appropriate Studio Ghibli films. It’s his mission to force anyone in his vicinity to rewatch them with him. Denz has seen My Neighbor Totoro an obscene number of times.
Jamie follows them out. Denz is alone with Nic. She pokes one of her lemon-yellow nails in his chest. “You’re hiding something.”
“Am I?”
“I know what’s going on.”
“You… do?” Denz stammers.
She eyes him, distrusting. “When Kami dropped Mikah off, she was happy . Walking-on-clouds happy. Getting-dick-regularly happy.”
“ Jesus, Nic! That’s our sister.”
“She’s clearly in love. Just like you.”
“I’m not—” He sputters. “I mean, she’s not. In love. It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit.” Nic taps the end of her nose. “I’m observant. Perceptive.”
“Really getting all the mileage out of those SAT words, huh?”
A wry smile crawls over her lips. “Kami’s got a man. She acts the same way you do whenever someone mentions Braylon.”
“I don’t act a… way,” he says defensively.
“I’m not like the others. I don’t have issues with Braylon.” Her eyes soften. “I… missed him.”
Denz’s stomach twists guiltily. Nic didn’t have the simple life he had before the Carters became a brand. She was born into constant public attention. As a result, she’s always kept a small, tight-knit circle of friends. Somehow, Braylon made it into that group of people she genuinely cared about.
“Even after the breakup,” she says, “I always thought he was the Peeta to your Katniss.”
“The who to my what ?”
“The One, genius!”
Funny thing is, Denz did too. A long time ago.
It’s silly to believe a first love is going to be who you spend the rest of your life with.
That only happens in Reese Witherspoon movies.
But the summer before senior year, Denz let himself dream: Sharing an apartment with Braylon after graduation.
Coffee in bed together. Walks around the city.
One day, falling to bended knee and proposing.
A Hallmark Christmas movie happy ending.
Then came Braylon’s Come with me? To London? Emmanuel suggesting Braylon leave Denz behind when he took too long to give Braylon an answer.
“The One” is a concept Denz is no longer subscribing to.
“Nephew!” Eva says. “We’re ready for you!”
He pastes on his best I-don’t-hate-this smile. To Nic, he whispers, “Was the blue suit that bad?”
“You looked like the genie from Aladdin .”
Fuck, he needs to find a better support system.