“I’ll drive back,” Nydia said to Jasmine. She’d noticed her friend’s attempt to smother yawns behind her hand while keeping score.
“Thanks.”
Nydia slipped behind the wheel of the minivan and adjusted the seat. She programmed the hotel’s address into the navigation and backed out of the parking lot. It was her first time driving in the city, and she knew it would take a while before she was familiar with the streets in the different neighborhoods.
“Honey, we’re home,” she intoned when maneuvering into Jasmine’s reserved parking space at the Louis LaSalle.
Jasmine moaned softly as she unsnapped her belt. “I think I stayed up past my bedtime.”
“What time do you usually go to bed?” Nydia asked her.
“Between nine and nine-thirty.”
“Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty. It’s after ten.”
Nydia entered her suite and stored the bowling bag in the closet off the entryway. Though Jasmine was exhausted, Nydia was energized from the excitement of bowling again. The first time she walked into a bowling alley at six years old with a group of young children whose parents were police officers, Nydia found herself mesmerized by the clashing sound of pins after they were hit by a ball hurtling down the lane. Her love of the game never waned as she grew older, and by the time she celebrated her fourteenth birthday, she had become what some people called a bowling phenom. The league was only six weeks—enough time for her to revive and hone her skills before returning to New York.
* * *
Lamar sat in the conference room with his partners, waiting for word they’d come in at the lowest bid for the Shreveport shopping mall. He glanced across the table at Omar Robinson, who was doodling and making interlocking circles on a legal pad. Omar had always been the most aggressive of the trio even when WPR Engineering was in its infancy. When Lamar first shared a class with the civil engineering major, Omar had sported distinctive dreadlocks ending midway down his back, but he decided to cut his hair when his hairline began receding. He now shaved his head, and with round, black-rimmed wire glasses he appeared quite professorial.
His gaze shifted to Kirk Wallace, who had closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Lamar thought of Kirk as the calm and collected partner. He rarely raised his voice and most times had become the voice of reason during in-house negotiations. His appearance hadn’t changed much from their college days. His curly black hair was shorter and he occasionally sported a short beard. But all of their lives had changed since college. They’d married, fathered children, and their professional focus was growing their partnership.
The telephone on the table buzzed, and everyone sat up straight. Lamar tapped the intercom button. “Yes, Suzanne.”
“I have Mr. King on the line.”
Lamar met Omar’s eyes across the table. “Put him through.” He activated the speaker feature.
“Gentlemen, I wish I had good news to tell you, but you didn’t come in as the lowest bid. But you were very close.”
Lamar managed a wry smile. “It’s encouraging to hear that.” He tried not to let a thread of disappointment creep into his voice. “Let us know when the next project comes up for bid.”
“I definitely will. You guys have a good one.”
Omar frowned. “What the hell does he mean have a good one,” he spat out within seconds of Lamar ending the call. “We just lost the fuckin’ bid.”
Kirk lowered his arms. “It’s done, Omar. There’s no need crying over spilled milk.”
Pushing back his chair, Omar stood up and stalked out of the conference room. Kirk and Lamar exchanged glances. They knew he would sulk for a few days and then settle down to concentrate on their current construction projects.
Lamar looked at his watch. “I’m going out for an extended lunch.” He had to get out of the office to escape what could become a toxic environment. Omar was a brilliant civil engineer, but there were times when he found it difficult to deal with his dark moods. He was aware that Omar and his wife weren’t getting along; the issue was child rearing, and he wondered whether, if Valerie had survived, they would have experienced a similar problem when it came to raising Kendra.
He left the conference room and entered his office. Although he’d agreed to submit a bid on the strip mall, deep down inside Lamar felt a sense of relief that they hadn’t come in lowest. He still did not feel comfortable leaving his daughter for extended periods of time. He picked up his cell phone, scrolled through the directory, and tapped the number to Cameron’s private line. It was answered after the third ring.
“What’s up, Pierce?”
“Can you get rid of your ball and chain to meet me for lunch at Casey’s?”
Cameron’s chuckle came through the earpiece. “Say no more. It’s been a while since I’ve gone there, and I’ve had a bitch of a morning with clients fighting me tooth and nail about where they want to invest.”
“What time, Singleton?”
“Give me twenty minutes. I’ll meet you there.”
“You’re on.”
Lamar ended the call, tightened his tie, and called Suzanne to inform her he was taking an extended lunch. He wantedandneeded to talk to Cameron about his wife’s best friend, because he was having ambivalent feelings when it came to Nydia. He liked her a lot, but part of him didn’t want to, because he did not know where it would lead. Six months after losing his wife he’d begun sleeping with a woman, knowing it would never evolve beyond sex. There would be no declarations of love nor were they to be seen in public together. Once he told her of his intention and after seeing her pained expression, he decided to end it. She accused him of using her, and he had for his own selfish motives.
