Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [94]
“Oh, you’re bad, Yancey Braxton.” Desmond laughed as he waved his index finger a few inches from my nose.
“No, I’m very good.”
After a few moments of awkward silence, Desmond looked at me and said, “Let’s go for a swim.”
“I’d love to,” I said. “But I’m not wearing a swimsuit.”
“Your point would be?” He laughed again.
I hesitated a second, then unwrapped my sarong and tossed it in the direction of his clothes piled on the sand. Desmond stood there perfectly still, then slowly looked me up and down like he was checking for places to kiss. After he’d taken me all in, he nodded his approval. I stood there in my tube top and robin’s-egg-blue thong underwear, but felt no awkwardness with this man who seemed to see right through me.
“Very beautiful, indeed,” he said. “And here, too,” he added as he placed his hand over my heart. He took my face in his hands and brushed his lips softly across mine. He pulled back for an instant and studied my face, running his thumbs over my eyelids, along the scar on my eyebrow, over my mouth, and then leaned in and gently parted my lips with his tongue.
It was a kiss I didn’t ever want to end, even though I knew it could lead to something better. Desmond’s pillow-soft lips suddenly left mine, and he took my hand gently and walked me into the ocean. Goose bumps rose all over my body as we entered the deep, cool weightlessness of the water. Before we began to swim, I pulled Desmond toward me and looked into his eyes and said, “I haven’t done anything in my life to deserve someone like you.”
Desmond smiled at me and touched my bottom lip and said, “Just be Yancey. The Yancey no one has ever seen.”
You’ve Got a Friend
Bart was hiding from me, and my anger was still very much alive. I came home the next morning around nine when it was clear he wasn’t going to show. I got undressed, crawled into bed and drifted into a heavy childlike sleep.
I woke up renewed, determined that I was not going to allow life to wrestle me to the ground. I ate a bowl of cereal and then took a shower. I stood for a long time and let the warm jets of water beat on my body in full force.
When I came out of the shower, I wrapped a beach towel around my waist and readied myself for some important calls. I needed to speak with Brison. He had called several times to express his concerns and assured me I was still wanted and considered a partner. When I reached him, I asked, “What about Nico?” He took a moment before replying, “Nico is an idiot. We got the votes to overrule him. Don’t walk away from what we’ve accomplished.” I asked him to give me a couple of days to think and I would get back to him.
I called my Pops to make sure he was all right, and he didn’t even mention our last conversation. When I mentioned I was thinking about moving back to Florida, he sounded excited, and talked about the two of us going fishing. That was a good sign, I thought, unless he was simmering like me.
I went into the kitchen for some orange juice, but there were only a few drops. I was getting ready to get dressed and run to the store when the doorman rang the intercom phone. I started not to answer it. The day before, Rosa had shown up. Why I don’t know, but I’d told the doorman to tell her I wasn’t feeling well. Even when she told him it was important, my response was a firm no.
I figured it was probably Rosa again, so I decided I might as well deal with her. Her constant phone calls during the last couple of days and then showing up unannounced probably meant only one thing. She had gotten a call from Bart too.
“Yeah.”
“Mr. Henderson. I have a Mr. Tyler here to see you,” the doorman said.
“A mister who?” I heard the doorman ask someone to repeat his name, then a voice in the background say, “Raymond Tyler.”
“Mr. Raymond Tyler,” he repeated.
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what the man said.”
“Send him up,” I said.
I raced to my bedroom and then decided it was too late to get dressed. Damn, Raymond had seen me half-naked before, anyway. But what was he doing here? I wondered as I moved to