Erik turned his back on her and began making his way to the front of the restaurant where he intended to pay the bill.
“I’ll think about it,” Belana blurted.
He stopped, turned and smiled at her. “Come here,” he said.
She went into his outstretched arms and they hugged. “You’ve got to stop manipulating me with emotional blackmail,” she complained.
“What are brothers for?” he asked with a smile.
Chapter 3
“Mykonos,” Belana repeated into the cell phone’s receiver.
On her end, Patrice Sutton-McKenna said, “Yes, Mykonos. I’ve made arrangements for us to stay at a resort there. Didn’t you get my email? I sent you the resort’s website so you could check out the accommodations.”
“When did you send it?” asked Belana. She was fastening a diamond bracelet around her right wrist as she talked with the phone held firmly between her left ear and her shoulder. In less than ten minutes Eli Braithwaite was supposed to pick her up for their first date. “I haven’t been online all day.”
Patrice sighed. Belana was one of those people who actually preferred phoning everyone instead of emailing them. “I sent it this morning. Check your mail. Elle and I will meet you at the ferry.”
“Elle’s going to get there before I do? She’s bringing Ari with her, right? I haven’t seen my niece in months.”
“Yes, she’s bringing the little princess with her,” Patrice said. “But it’ll still be just us girls, no boys allowed.”
“That’s cool,” Belana said. “I just want to be pampered. I will be pampered, won’t I?”
Patrice laughed shortly. “Yes, your highness, you will be in the lap of luxury. Anything your heart desires will be at your disposal.”
“Just so there’s a masseuse on the hotel’s staff,” Belana said. “My poor body could use a good massage.”
“No worries,” Patrice assured her. “So, what time do you think you’ll be here?”
“I should be there around eleven in the morning, your time,” Belana told her. “Hey, do you have any news for us?”
“What kind of news?” Patrice asked, suspicious.
“Baby news?” said Belana expectantly. A glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand in her bedroom told her she didn’t have time for word games.
“I’m scheduled to shoot two films in the next six months,” Patrice said with a laugh.
“That never stopped Angelina Jolie,” Belana persisted.
“You’re asking me, how about you?” Patrice said, turning the tables. “You’re the same age as I am. When are you going to have a baby?”
“I’d like to catch a man first.”
“What are you using for bait?”
“My usual exceptionally talented self,” Belana replied jokingly.
“Any interesting prospects?” asked Patrice.
Belana told Patrice about her date with Eli Braithwaite. “We’re going to a fundraiser that the Knicks throw every year to raise money to send inner-city kids to college.”
“How old is he?” Patrice wanted to know.
“He’s twenty-five.”
“Three years younger than you.”
“That doesn’t make me a cougar.”
“No, not at all, but let’s hope he’s a mature twenty-five. You know you get bored easily.”
“I’ve improved in that department. I’m determined to find my soul mate, get married and have a child or two.”
“You sound so convincing,” Patrice intoned, sounding unconvinced.
Belana laughed. “As one of my oldest and dearest friends, you’re supposed to show support instead of deriding me.”
“As one of your oldest and dearest friends, I’m supposed to tell you the truth. Call me when you get back from your date. I’d like to know how that twenty-five-year-old boy held up to your adult sensibilities.”
“He seemed mature when I met him at a fashion show. Ana introduced us.”
“How much time did you spend with him?”
“About thirty minutes and then he asked me out.”
Patrice harrumphed. “You’ve never been attracted to boys. You might think they’re pretty and flirt with them but when you date, you prefer really strong, highly confident men. They’re the only kind who can put up with you.”
“Put up with me?” Belana cried, laughing. “You make me sound high-maintenance.”
“You are,” Patrice said, telling it like it was. “Just call me later and we’ll finish this conversation then.”
The doorbell rang. “Okay, talk to you later,” Belana said hurriedly.
“That’s Eli, huh?” said Patrice.
“Yeah, got to go,” said Belana, in even more of a rush.
“I bet he brought flowers and candy. Oh, and a teddy bear,” Patrice joked. “Little boys always overcompensate because they want to be liked.”
“Bye, Miss Smarty Pants,” said Belana, and hung up on Patrice.
In her bedroom, Belana quickly shoved her cell phone into her clutch and stood in front of the full-length mirror one more time. She wore an off-white sleeveless dress that had a square neckline, which revealed a hint of cleavage, and whose hem fell two inches above her knees. It was well-made, but not a designer original. She spent money sparingly on designers, preferring instead to go with quality clothing she could find at any major department store. She did have a weakness for designer shoes, however. She bought them when they went on sale. Even though her father was a millionaire many times over, and she and Erik would never lack for money, they had been brought up not to be wasteful. Money, their father taught them, was to be used for a purpose, not simply to satisfy your whims. She had favorite charities she contributed to on a regular basis, and she liked spoiling friends and family on occasion with gifts that were unexpected and truly appreciated.
She peered down at her Jimmy Choos, a pair of strappy, off-white sandals. With the extra three inches their heels provided, her head might be even with Eli’s shoulders.
When she opened the door, she silently gave Patrice her due. Eli, all six feet seven inches of him, was wearing a beautiful black tuxedo and highly polished dress shoes. He was carrying a bouquet of red roses, a box of Godiva chocolate truffles and a huge, fluffy, white teddy bear with a red velvet ribbon tied around its neck.
Belana smiled broadly and asked him in. His Calvin Klein for Men preceded him into the room, but it wasn’t overpowering. She had been right about their heights. She had to tiptoe to briefly hug him hello. Then he was pressing the gifts into her arms. “You look beautiful,” he said in his deep baritone, his eyes raking over her.
“Thank you. You look very handsome tonight,” Belana said as she clutched his offerings to her chest. She glanced at them a moment, then raised her eyes back to his. “You’re too generous. But I love roses and chocolate’s one of my guilty pleasures.”
She squeezed the teddy bear. “And he’s just adorable.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Eli said, giving her a boyish grin. He was a good-looking guy with dark-chocolate skin, chiseled facial features that reminded her of Tyson Beckford’s.