Page 27 of The Last Affair
“Oh, this is gonna be good.” She heard Major’s comment from behind them and refused to look back.
The Gold twins could be quite an annoying pair when they were together. Normally, she wasn’t bothered by their inside jokes or suspicious looks during their monthly poker games, but tonight she wasn’t in the mood for the tag-team effect. It was going to take all her practiced calm to get through the always-scrutinizing gaze of Marva Gold.
“There you are, Desta. I was wondering when you were going to get here. I told Riley you’re never late.” Speaking of the matriarch of the Gold family, Marva came toward her the moment Desta stepped into the family room.
Wearing winter-white trousers, a shimmering rose-colored blouse and nude pumps, the woman was the fashion industry’s Black royalty. Impeccably dressed, pleasantly composed and timelessly beautiful. She had the same tawny complexion as Maurice, and her thick silver-streaked hair hung in big neat curls to her shoulders while diamond earrings glittered at her ears.
“No, ma’am, I would never be late for your Sunday dinner. I had a few reports to finish up before I left, and there was some traffic.” Her words died as Marva embraced her.
The woman always smelled fantastic, no matter the fragrance she chose. Marva was such a contrast from Desta’s mother, who usually smelled like the hospital where she still worked twelve-to fourteen-hour shifts four days a week.
“I want you to stop working so hard. You’re too young and too pretty to have your face buried in papers and that computer all the time.”
Not used to extra attention from Marva, Desta quickly glanced around the room. She could see RJ—or Ronald Jr.—standing near the classic grand piano, a drink already in hand. Ron Gold Sr., RJ’s older and wiser look-alike, sat astutely on one of the two ivory-colored couches in the room, while Nina and Riley were already parked in the taupe side chairs. Riley’s fiancé, Chaz, stood near her, holding a drink that looked to be the same as RJ’s. So, the gang was definitely all here.
“Are you all right, Desta?” Marva asked, the hint of concern in her tone so noticeable, just about everyone in the room paused their conversation to look in her direction.
Major came around at that moment, talking as he made his way across the room. “She’s fine, Mom. Stop hovering. After driving all the way out here with Maurice, she’s probably just a little windblown. You know how he likes to speed through traffic.”
If she were closer she would’ve punched him in the arm. Not only was she certain Major knew something about her and Maurice—even if Maurice hadn’t confirmed it—but his remark about Maurice speeding immediately touched a nerve with her now that she knew about the car accident with India. She pasted on a smile. “I’m good, Mrs. Gold, really. Just trying to get back in the swing of things after being away last weekend.”
“Oh,” Riley said, her tone a bit too perky, “you were out of town last weekend, too? When I finally heard from Maurice last Sunday night, he said he was away on a ski trip. Where’d you go?”
Wishing for a hole to open up in the floor right now and swallow her was probably too much to ask for, but Desta wasn’t looking to Maurice for help. Brushing the strands of hair she’d flat-ironed a couple hours earlier behind her ears, she squared her shoulders and looked Riley directly in the eye. “You know, it was the strangest thing. I had this brochure for a luxury ski resort in the Finger Lakes and realized it was getting closer to the end of the year and I hadn’t gone anywhere yet. With our busiest season coming up, I figured a long weekend was my best bet.”
“So, you went skiing, too?” Riley asked.
Maurice moved from where he’d been standing right behind her, leaning in to kiss his mother on the cheek. “We ran into each other at the ski resort. Seems the place is extremely popular this time of year.” He spoke as casually as if he’d just said, “Hey, Ma, what’s for dinner?” She clearly wasn’t as aloof as Maurice about all this.
“Dinner is served,” Kemp announced before anyone else could speak.
The questioning gazes coming from everyone in the room spoke volumes, but Desta followed Maurice’s lead and walked toward the dining room.
Tonight’s catered meal was an array of fresh salads, lemon pepper chicken, curry rice, sautéed string beans and buttered rolls that smelled heavenly. Hungry and determined to get through this evening, Desta took her seat between the twins where—coincidentally—she always sat. Ron said the grace and bowls began passing between everyone. Same as usual. Inwardly, she was relieved.
Five minutes after they began eating, RJ dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter. “When I called and texted you repeatedly on Sunday to tell you about Riley’s engagement, you were at a ski resort...with Desta?”
Maurice and Desta both looked at RJ, but neither had a chance to answer before Riley asked her, “Wait, you knew before I called you on Monday?” The accusatory tone in Riley’s voice made Desta feel like crap.
It had been almost six Monday evening when Riley had called, brimming with excitement about her engagement. Desta had thought it best to act surprised, especially when Riley quickly continued to discuss business and announcing the engagement.
“I didn’t want to take any of the joy that was so apparent in your voice away.” Desta’s throat was suddenly dry, so she lifted her glass of wine and took a gulp. “By the way, my team and I have already laid out all the preliminary steps to marketing the engagement in the same way we did Nina and Major’s.”
“Yeah, Desta filled me in on the details of that new strategy,” Maurice said. “You sure you want to invite the media into your personal life in that way? I mean, inviting them to the engagement party and into the wedding planning?” Maurice was so calm, and Desta gritted her teeth in frustration. Another gulp from her glass should help her feel more in control.
Riley blinked, probably confused by the shift in conversation. Or possibly annoyed. But she continued with a nod. “Chaz and I discussed it, and it makes the most sense. The media was going to be poking around trying to find out all that they could, anyway. So, why not give them a certain amount of access during the planning? The wedding itself will be private.”
Chaz added, “We don’t even want the location known. They can have all the pictures of dress fittings, cake tastings and parties that they want, but it stops there.”
“Have you decided on the venue yet?” Nina asked.
“No, actually we’re considering a destination wedding,” Riley said cheerfully.
For the next twenty minutes the conversation was all about the wedding. Who would and shouldn’t be invited, who Marva wanted to cater it, what Ron and the other guys didn’t want to wear. It all seemed so normal and at the same time so foreign. Desta hadn’t thought about getting married in a very long time, even though her grandmother mentioned it almost every time they spoke. Why, Desta still couldn’t figure out. It wasn’t as if Edna Bell’s marriage had been successful. To the contrary, she’d caught her husband and their neighbor in the backseat of his truck at a drive-in movie.
Her mother hadn’t fared much better, but Sheryl Henner had appeared genuinely happy on that long-ago spring weekend when Desta and Gordon had gone to Chicago to announce their engagement. As the conversation around her continued, Desta’s skin began to tingle at the memories it evoked. She’d started to plan her own wedding. A venue, bridesmaids, groomsmen and a date had been selected. Her dress search had been taking longer than expected, and she’d been online searching designers the night she got the call that Gordon had been hurt.
“You okay?” She startled at Maurice’s voice. He’d leaned over to whisper in her ear, and when she turned to him, he grasped her hands.
