Gwen’s blunt words cut through her. Thinking it was the right thing to do, she had tried to work through the broken marriage to her philandering husband, even going to couples counseling. In the end, she realized he didn’t want a normal marriage. She left him, taking the most valuable thing that had come out of their relationship—their daughter.
Within a few years after the collapse of her marriage, Celeste locked away her adolescent dreams of finding love. She’d kissed so many toads on her way to finding a prince, she didn’t believe in princes anymore.
She scrimped and saved, going to school part-time so she could find a better job than waiting tables. Despite the hardship of being a single parent, she wouldn’t change her circumstances. She didn’t regret having Arianna, but she did wish she’d been more prudent in her choice of husbands. It broke her heart whenever Arianna asked about her father, and she grew tired of making excuses for his absence and unfulfilled promises.
Janet gave her back a comforting rub. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
Celeste swallowed down the lump in her throat. Some days she didn’t know if she was coming or going, and last night had been such a change of pace, several times this morning she’d wondered if she had imagined the entire night.
“I better go,” she said. She poured a glass of water with little ice and two lemons, the way Derrick liked.
“I would do him in a minute,” Gwen murmured, looking over at the booth where Derrick sat.
“Word is you already have,” Janet said.
“I wish.”
Celeste kept her head down to hide her amusement. Listening to the two of them go at it often made her laugh.
She made her way over to the booth where Derrick Hoffman sat. The atmosphere of the club was high on pretension, but it allowed for relaxation with its dim lights, mahogany walls, leather couches, and private rooms.
Some of the other women developed sexual relationships with their regular customers, thinking they could catch themselves a rich husband. The relationships usually fizzled out after a short period.
Most of the other hostesses had regulars, but none quite like Derrick Hoffman. He dressed like money, smelled like money, and drove one of only eighty Ferrari SA Aperta convertibles in the world—screaming money. They met at Georgia Tech over a year ago, where he’d been earning a master’s in international logistics. They became friends, and before long he was a regular at the cigar bar.
Despite their friendship, she knew very little about his immediate family. His mother and biological father died in a plane crash, and he never talked about his siblings, a sister and two brothers. She sensed he didn’t get along with his brothers at all, but he must have a slightly better relationship with his younger sister because he mentioned her on occasion.
“Hi there, lady,” Derrick said when she walked up. He lowered his cigar and stood up. “How was your birthday?”
“Good. You should have come.” Celeste returned the hug he gave her.
He sat back in the seat, and she dropped down into the booth next to him. “Did you go to Avery’s Juke Joint as planned?” As usual, his wavy black hair was combed and brushed to perfection. His skin, the color of Caribbean sand, looked as clear and spotless as if he’d had a facial.
Celeste nodded. “We didn’t stay long. We ended up going to a small jazz spot named Tito’s Lounge.” She purposely avoided mentioning Roarke.
Even though she considered Derrick a friend, she wasn’t exactly comfortable talking to him about her one-night stand. It was private. The idyllic night had come and gone, and she would treasure the memory. She ignored the way her heart contracted in her chest, as if cruel fingers curled around it and squeezed.
“Tito’s Lounge? Never heard of it. But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself even though I couldn’t grace you with my presence.”
Celeste smiled knowingly. “Right, you were probably with a woman.”
He ignored her, but his upturned lips hinted at the accuracy of her comment. “You have plans next weekend?”
“Yes, actually,” Celeste answered in a nasal French accent, “I’m off to Paris for dinner and a dress fitting.”