Sweet Southern Nights

“What have you done now, Traci?”

“Nothing.”

Cradling the cordless receiver between her chin and shoulder, Angela returned to the en suite bathroom. “I’m going to put you on speaker while I put on my makeup.”

“Okay.”

Sitting down at the vanity, she picked up a small sable brush and deftly applied shadow over her eyelid. “Talk to me, Traci.”

There was a brief pause before Traci’s voice came through the speaker. “Reggie’s brother said that he’s willing to be your date for the wedding if you can’t find anyone else to go.”

Angela groaned, still unable to understand why her cousin continued to date her ex-husband. Although she’d always liked Reggie, it was his brother that she could only take in small doses. His ego was as large as his waistline.

“Thanks for looking out, but I have a date.”

“Who is he?”

“You’ll see,” she said cryptically as she carefully outlined her lids with a smoky-colored eye pencil.

“Come on, Ang, give me a hint.”

Angela leaned closer, checking her handiwork in the lighted makeup mirror. She smiled. She hadn’t lost her touch. There was a time when she wore makeup every day. But once she began working in the gift shop, her makeup routine was a light dusting of face powder, one coat of mascara and a tinted lip gloss. She still had a standing appointment every week to have her hair and nails done, but shadow and eyeliner were for special occasions.

“Don’t think you’re going to badger me until I tell you. You’re going to have to wait like everyone else to see who I bring. Now, please hang up so I can finish putting on my makeup. I’ll see you and Reggie in about an hour.”

“Should I tell Reggie’s brother that you don’t want him to pick you up?”

Angela shook her head. There were times when she thought Traci played dumb because she didn’t like making men feel insecure, when in fact her cousin was a genius. Two years her junior, Traci had married and divorced not once, but twice—Reggie was her first—and swore she’d never marry again. Nevertheless, her cousin liked being in a relationship.

“Tell him thanks, but no thanks. I have a date.”

“Okay. What are you wearing?”

She smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see that, too.”

“I hope it’s real sexy, Ang, because I want Robert to realize what he lost.”

“Robert Gaskin made his bed, and now he’ll just have to lie in it. Look, cuz, I have to go if I’m going to be ready when Levi gets here.”

“Levi. Now that’s a name you don’t hear too often. Personally I like biblical names. They always sound so strong and masculine.”

Angela exhaled a deep breath. She knew if she didn’t get off the phone with Traci she wouldn’t be ready when Levi arrived. She still had to get dressed. “Bye, Traci. We’ll talk later.”

“Do you know if Yvette put us at the same table?” Traci asked, prolonging the conversation.

“Yes. I told her I wanted us seated together.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you later.”

“Later, Traci.” Angela ended the call, and concentrated on finishing her makeup.

Adjusting the light surrounding the vanity mirror, she surveyed her face under the flattering glow. Her makeup was subtle, and her eyes were dramatic with a smoky look. She turned off the lights, washed her hands and dried them. She walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom to the dressing area where her dress and matching day coat hung from a padded hanger.

Taking off her robe, she slipped into a pair of midnight-blue bikinis, a halter-top bra and sheer pantyhose. She had just put on her dress and slipped her foot into one of the blue-suede, peep-toe pumps when the intercom rang at the same time as the clock on the fireplace mantel chimed on the half hour.

“Levi.”

His name unconsciously slipped past her parted lips. A smile spread across her face as she tried to recall everything about him—the deep, soothing timbre of his voice, the sexy-looking lines that creased his sharp jawline whenever he smiled, and the way he angled his head whenever he’d listened to something she said. He was perfect—perfect enough that she could easily see him as Mr. Right Now.

Pushing the speaker button on the intercom, she said, “This is Ms. Chase.”

“Are you expecting Mr. Eaton?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Thank you, Ms. Chase.”

Angela put on her other shoe and then picked up her lightweight coat and evening purse. She made her way down the staircase, carefully navigating the steps in her four-inch heels. She walked across the living room floor, opened the entry door and stared out the storm door, watching for Levi’s car. The weather had cooperated for her cousin’s wedding. Afternoon temperatures were expected to reach the high sixties without a chance of rain. The sky was bright blue with a few puffy clouds.

She felt something soft brush against her leg and looked down to find Miss Divine sniffing the black silk bow on her shoe. “Not the shoes, Miss Dee. I left you food and water, so I know you’re not hungry.”

Her head popped up when she saw the sunlight reflected off the car as it approached the driveway to her house. She shooed Miss Divine away from the door, activated the alarm system and locked the door. Angela approached Levi’s car as he came to a stop, and got out to meet her. There was no mistaking his surprise when he greeted her.

Angela’s eyelids fluttered. Levi looked strikingly handsome in a dark blue tailored suit that looked as if it had been custom-made for his tall, slender physique. A white shirt with French cuffs, a royal blue Windsor-knotted silk tie, and black wingtip shoes made him look as if he’d stepped off the pages of a men’s fashion magazine. She felt her heartbeat kick into overdrive as he closed the distance between them. Her high heels put the top of her head level with his nose.

She tiptoed and pressed her cheek to his. “How are you?”

Turning his head slightly, Levi pressed his mouth to the column of her scented neck. “Wonderful.” Reaching up, he cradled her face in his hands, his eyes moving slowly over her features. “You look incredible.” He couldn’t disguise the approval in his voice.

Angela Chase was a chameleon. Gone was her natural look and casual attire, and in its place was a stunning femme fatale. The curly hairstyle framed her delicate features, falling a few inches beyond her shoulders. Large, wide-set eyes highlighted in subdued hues of dark-colored eye shadow met his direct gaze. He managed to curb a smile when he noticed mascara had added length and volume to her lashes. False eyelashes had always been his pet peeve with women. He disliked women who were fake-looking, but instead used makeup to enhance their natural beauty. His gaze traveled from her face to the diamond studs in her ears and lower to her legs in sheer stockings that displayed the perfection of shapely calves and slender ankles. His eyebrows lifted when he saw the dark blue, peep-toe heels with a black bow that adorned her delicate feet.

“Thank you,” she said, demurely lowering her gaze. She didn’t know why, but she wanted him to find her attractive. It’d been so long since she’d found herself attracted to a man.

“Are you going to be able to dance in those?”

Angela smiled, bringing his gaze to her parted lips. “Do you dance?” she asked, answering his question with a question.

“Of course I dance.”

She winked at him. “If that’s the case, then we’ll see how well I can dance in my heels.”

Levi leaned closer. “Is that a challenge, Angela?”

“Do you want it to be, Levi?”

Pressing his mouth to her left ear, he breathed a kiss. “I’ve never backed down from a challenge,” he whispered.

Angela laughed softly. “Neither have I.”