“Everything looks nice,” Tessa said, walking in and closing the door. She slipped out of her coat, draping it over a hook on the coat tree.
There was no mistaking Tessa and Simone for sisters, although Tessa’s hair, eyes and complexion were darker than Simone’s. Thirty-one-year-old Tessa had become a preeminent wedding and event planner in the four years since starting up Signature Bridals and Event Planners, Inc. with her sister and first cousin. Tessa owned sixty percent of the company, while Simone and Faith shared equally in the remaining forty. The company had afforded the thirty-something Whitfields a very comfortable lifestyle.
“Thanks. I love your haircut, Tessa,” Faith said, smiling. She was surprised to see that Tessa had cut her hair. For years she’d affected a flyaway hairdo that was a modified throwback to the Afro of the seventies. The shorter style was a combination of punk and chic.
“Enough chitchat,” she said, extending her hand to Tessa. “Let me see it.” Tessa held out her left hand. Prisms of light sparkled from a magnificent cushion-cut diamond with round and baguette diamonds set in platinum. Faith turned her hand over. There were pavé diamonds on the band. “It is exquisite, Tessa.” There was no mistaking the awe in Faith’s voice. She placed her arms around her cousin’s neck and kissed her cheek. “You deserve all of the good things coming to you.”
“Stop, Faith, before I start crying. And I did enough of that yesterday to last me a lifetime.”
Simone removed a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of pink hydrangeas and grape hyacinths and a bottle of white wine from the shopping bag. “Tessa had everyone crying, Mama, Daddy and Aunt Edie. Even Uncle Henry wiped away a tear or two.”
“Did your soon-to-be, manly man brother-in-law cry?” Faith teased.
“No. In fact, he seemed rather amused. I can’t wait to see what happens when we go to Franklin Lakes this coming Sunday to have dinner with the Sanborns. And please, Faith, don’t tell me you have something on your calendar for Sunday,” Simone drawled facetiously.
A slight frown appeared between Faith’s eyes. “I don’t believe I do.”
“Go check!” the sisters chorused.
Hiding a grin, Faith crossed the room and picked up her PDA from the bedside table and scrolled through her calendar. “I’m good.” She hadn’t planned anything for the day, but she would’ve used the time to bake and decorate a couple of cakes for her book.
“I’ll call and let you know what time Micah and I will pick you up,” Tessa said. “And if it’s not raining or snowing, then dress casually. And bring a change of clothes,” she added cryptically.
“Why?”
“That’s because the Sanborns get together to play touch football on Sundays.”
Faith shook her head while waving a hand. “Forget it, Tessa. I don’t do sports.”
“Neither did I before I got involved with Micah,” Tessa admitted reluctantly.
“I love rolling around in the dirt,” Simone said, as she filled a vase with water and skillfully arranged the colorful blooms.
Faith gave her cousin an incredulous look. “That’s because to you dirt equals money.”
“No lie,” the floral decorator quipped.
“And, by the way, the flowers are beautiful.” Simone knew she was partial to pink flowers.
Affecting a curtsey, Simone flashed a wide grin. “Thank you.” She’d just signed a contract with a well-known White Plains law firm to deliver floral arrangements for their reception area and conference rooms. She’d built a greenhouse on a portion of her property where she grew and cultivated herbs and flowers year-round. She’d grown her business, Wildflowers and Other Treasures, selling bouquets and corsages for birthdays, holidays and proms. Her involvement with Signature Bridals expanded into specialty wedding bouquets, and now she’d added her first corporate client. She set the vase of flowers on the table, glancing around the studio apartment.
“Tessa’s right. Your place does look nice.” Soft music flowed from concealed speakers, lighted lemon-scented votives and the lowest setting from the three-way bulb in the floor lamp provided a calming, subdue setting for laid-back dining pleasure. “You should be entertaining a man tonight, not your cousins,” Simone said in a quiet tone.
Faith rolled her eyes upward. “I’ve dated more men than the two of you combined, so please don’t mention entertaining a man.”
“But how many have you slept with, Faith?” Simone asked.
She lowered her gaze. “Not many.”
“How many is ‘not many’?” Simone questioned.
“I’m not going to tell you that!” Faith said in protest. Although she’d dated a lot of men, she hadn’t slept with them. “And that’s because most of them weren’t worth taking off my clothes to even consider sleeping with them.” Faith looked at Tessa. “I know you’re getting your freak on with Micah, but you, Miss Simone Whitfield, are a different story. Once you fell under Anthony Kendrick’s spell you never looked at another man.” She cupped a hand to her ear. “How many men, other than Tony, have you slept with in the past…” She paused. “How long has it been—seven or eight years?”
“Eight,” Simone mumbled. “But that’s over and done with, and Tony knows it.”
Faith blinked once. “You told him?”
Simone nodded. “Yes. Tessa is my witness.”
“Yes!” Faith said through clenched teeth. “I know I’ve kissed a lot of frogs, but with all you have going for yourself, Simone, I always thought you could do so much better than that…Tony,” she said, biting back the criticism she usually reserved for her cousin’s highly educated, bum-ass ex-husband.
Tessa smiled at her sister and cousin. “Now that we’re done discussing men, I’m going to wash up so we can eat. I’m starved.”
Both pairs of eyes, one light and the other dark, stared at Tessa. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” Simone asked.
Tessa gave her a saccharine grin. “I know I’m not.” She headed for the bathroom.
“Do you and Micah plan to have children?” Faith said as Tessa retreated.
Tessa smiled over her shoulder. “Yes.”
Simone winked at Faith before following her sister into the bathroom. “Hot damn! We’re going to be aunties.”
“I’m going to spoil my niece or nephew!” Faith called out.
“You better not,” Tessa called out.
“Try and stop me, Theresa Anais Whitfield.”
Tessa stuck her head out of the bathroom. “Oh, no, you didn’t call me by my full name.”
“Yes, I did.” Faith returned to the kitchen area to turn off a simmering pot of shrimp chowder. She added a Thai peanut dressing to the salad, tossing the crisp greens and crispy-fried popcorn shrimp, placing the bowl on the table next to the floral centerpiece. She planned to begin the five-course meal with shrimp cocktail, followed by soup, salad, an entrée of shrimp and snow peas with white rice and a dessert of frozen cassata—a vanilla ice cream cake that incorporated the flavors of an Italian cannoli filing: ricotta, chocolate, pistachios and orange peel.
The sisters returned. Tessa offered to uncork the bottle of wine while Faith ladled the steaming chowder into soup bowls. Her cell phone rang, and before she could tell Simone not to answer it, she’d picked it up.
“Good evening, Let Them Eat Cake.” Simone knew Faith used her cell phone exclusively for business.
“May