GRAY AREAS
A month had gone by since my impromptu trip with Duke. Since returning to Paramour, we’d still been seeing one another, though not nearly as much as it were when we’d traveled together. Adjusting to the change in what had hastily become routine proved difficult. Vehemently and pitifully, I missed him.
The first few weeks back, I didn’t sleep much. Restful sleep, in fact, had evaded me until that second Friday night. Duke had given me a keycard to gain access to his place whenever I wanted. With the exception of the time he’d gotten sick, the card hadn’t been used. On that second Friday, I caved. My eyes were burning with a desire for rest, but my mind was restless. The softness of my body craved the rigidness of his.
Oversized sweats cloaked my limbs. Spritzed with Lost Cherry, my skin was sweetened to his liking. With the braids from our adventure freshly washed and coated in the scent of leave-in conditioner, I made my way to the penthouse suite of Gray Hotel .
It was just after seven at night when my feet soundlessly scaled the hall leading up to the top floor. Dolce & Gabbana Airmasters covered my feet. The pastel multicolored sneaker paired well with the casual sweatsuit I wore. A large box containing six variations of the design was delivered by my condo’s concierge upon my arrival back home. I couldn’t do anything but smile at the evidence of Duke’s generosity.
Though I waited for the elevator to clear, in my haste to lay up with my man, I bumped into the last person exiting.
Ridiculous .
“I am so sorry,” I emphasized. Embarrassment slithered up my bones.
“It’s fine,” the woman blurted.
The pitch and tone of her voice caused our eyes to connect.
“Julie! Oh , hi !”
“I thought I recognized you, Serenity. What are you doing here?—Well, obviously, that’s none of my business. I was just on my way out. I live here.”
“I live here . ” That air of haughtiness seasoned her voice. New money. Flamboyant, her label-whoring was. New money always told on themselves. Tactless. Classless. But she was still one of my students. Annoying and needy but still one of my somatic release students.
“Oh, okay. Nice. Gray has some really impressive accommodations. I’m actually just visiting my boyfriend. He’s a resident here as well.”
“Lovely,” Julie chippered. “Well, don’t let me hold you from being with your man. I’ll see you in class next week?”
“I have a bit on my plate at the moment, so I’m having one of the other instructors teach the class.”
“Aw, boo! Well, I’ll be glad to see you back when the opportunity presents itself again. I miss your somatic release techniques.”
Reaching out, she gripped my arm for emphasis. Without turning my head, my eyes darted to the place touched, and she quickly freed me. “It was good seeing you as well.”
“Same to you,” I tossed over my shoulder, entering the lift and tapping the keycard to take me up to the top floor.
Silence and darkness cloaked the interior when I entered the penthouse. I toed out of my shoes, letting them remain near the door. Save for the bedroom light spilling into the length hall, it was exceptionally dark inside. Beyond the windows in the living room was a view of downtown Paramour. The city’s lights dotted the windows with drawn-back curtains.
An entire two weeks of not seeing Duke felt wholly unacceptable. Lengthy nails tapped the sealed bedroom door as my palm collided, offering a push for entry. Soundlessly, the door to his master bedroom crept open. My honey-hued man was bare-chested, save for his boxers, as I entered. He was a sight for my ravenous eyes. His back was propped against the headboard, flipping through the television. Cinnamon brown eyes bloomed like flowers in spring as they fell upon me.
“Hey.”
“Busy bee,” helplessly, he grinned at my presence. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?”
“Such a necessary task has been nearly impossible in the last few weeks,” I confessed with a big ass smile. Shedding my sweats, I crawled into bed beside him.
“You just gotta get back accustomed to my absence.”
“I don’t like the sound of that or the prospect of it.”
Clutching Duke tighter, I drove my point home. He shifted and pulled me closer with a groan.
“ Mmh . Me either, Bumble Bee.”
As my lids grew heavier, sugary thoughts time-traveled to the month prior when we were together. A vacation and a home, he composed it all and lacked nothing.
“This is me checking in, Bee.”
Since our return to Paramour, we made a point to check in with one another. To share our feelings regardless of what they were —good or bad— we’d be transparent with one another. It was something he’d started the night after my explosion in Portofino.
“I’m okay. Just tired. The art show is in a few weeks.”
“Keeping you manic?”
“Yeah. A little,” I yawned. Paired with the plans I recently had drafted for the new spa’s location, I was juggling the next big event at Vivid . My schedule had done a number on me. The lack of sleep hadn’t helped.
“What did I tell you about delegating, baby?”
“I know. I know .”
“If you know better, then do better,” he fussed, thumbing my bottom lip.
“I’m a work in progress. Give me time to do better.”
“ Aight ,” he shifted, reaching lower to squeeze my butt. “What else is going on? I still smell tension. You reek of it.”
“I meet with Solari soon.”
“ Solari ? That’s the investment group you’re working with to expand?” He asked, trailing a finger up and down my spine repeatedly.
“Oh, shit. I was supposed to be keeping my lids sealed on that.”
“Too late now.”
Quiet filled the room. I snuggled closer, getting comfortable and preparing to go to sleep.
After a while, Duke asked, “What made you choose Solari anyway?”
My lids opened, freeing a yawn.
“The woman at the helm of the organization. She believes in us. In melanated women . I admire her and what she’s built.”
“Have you looked into their previous investments?”
“Um…yeah”
“So, no thorough research of their track record? Their reviews?”
“Well, I know of some of their investments. They have a long-standing history in Paramour. I didn’t look at everything .”
“Have you spoken to an advisor about them? Just for insight?”
“No. Why does it feel like you’re bombarding me?”
He freed my ass and stretched his arms overhead. “I’m just asking questions, Bee.”
“ Okay . Any more questions?”
There was. I knew there was. I could feel it. Again, silence spoke for us both in place of words. The adrenaline I’d been running on kicked in, ignoring my burning lids. But then he ran his fingers through my scalp, and my eyes closed immediately.
“Can you let me do this for you?”
Shifting my head, my gaze connected to Duke. The positioning of his face hadn’t changed. Blankly, he stared at the ceiling, still massaging my scalp.
“Do what, Duke?” Tracing circles on his bare chest, I slowly blinked. The Sandman was begging me to join him.
“Let me gift you the first location. A birthday gift.”
“ Duke …”
“Give me the plans, and let me gift it.”
“Duke.”
“Not to say you can’t do it alone—”
“ No !” Raising from the human pillow, I sat up, issuing a gaze penetrating deeper than January morning below zero degrees.
“Okay.” Casually, Duke’s palms went up. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“Well, you did . You’re acting just like my brothers,” I fussed, moving away from him and plopping down on a pillow.
“It doesn’t hurt to be resourceful. Everything ain’t gotta be all black and white, Bee.”
“When I need to be resourceful, I will . This is something I need to do for myself and by myself. I thought you understood that.”
“Aight, Queen Bee. Don’t sting me. I do understand. I just… Nevermind. Bring your ass back over here. You’re not the only one with trouble sleeping.”
He refused to allow an argument to prevail between us. It was the same thing in Italy. The sun wouldn’t set on our anger.
“You haven’t been sleeping either?” I asked, returning to my position across his chest.
Reaching up, my fingers combed through the salt and peppery patch of hair covering his chin.
“Hardly a fucking wink. If you didn’t bring your ass, I was soon heading your way,” he yawned.
“Go to sleep, baby. You sound and look exhausted.”
“You ain’t gotta tell me twice, Bee.”
At just over one hundred guests, the charity show hosted at Vivid for the Miller Center had come together wonderfully. Big steppers filled the venue. Men and women alike. Compiling the guest list had been strategic. Most of the potential donors held the capacity to write extensive checks, satisfying the need to hit our margins for the evening.
In addition to the auction, every piece of artwork that hung on the walls was available for sale. Just as with the auction, a portion of the proceeds would be donated to the Miller Center to assist in the expansion of programs available to the community.
Everything was going to plan.