“That’s her. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten.”
“And the others?”
“Well, we all went to high school together––before that, Soleil and Avery met in swim class at the Y, and then Soleil, Thao, and I were all on our high school ski team.”
“Ski team? Now that’s impressive.”
“Yeah, we were pretty good.”
“Just pretty good?” He eyed her over the rim of his paper cup.
“Okay, no, we were amazing.” Pride shone in her eyes. “We took our team to the regional championships all four years and won twice.”
“Three women of color on one championship team?”
“Tell me about it.” She took another sip. “Thao’s family moved to the U.S. when she was around eight, but when they were still living in Vietnam, they used to vacation at a ski resort in China. And my dad…” Her smile grew wider. “You’re going to think he’s crazy.”
“Try me.”
“Well…” She angled her body toward his. “He’s a little obsessed with Tina Turner.”
“Nothing weird about that.” He reached out and petted Princess behind his ears.
“Maybe not, but I think if he’d been any less mentally stable, he might’ve easily ventured into stalker status––I think he’s seen her in concert like eleven times.”
“Geeze, that’s at least superfan status.”
“Well, they’re from the same town in Tennessee, and my grandmother’s name was Anna Mae.” She started counting on her fingers. “And he once walked into a restaurant in Manhattan for lunch to learn that she’d only just left minutes before him. He said her seat was still warm.”
Kyree boxed his lips. “He touched the seat?”
“I told you, he’s crazy. But he can’t help it. He loves her, and he sees the commonalities as some kind of sign that they’re destined to meet. Anyway, after she moved to Switzerland, he had this ridiculous fantasy of running into her at some fabulous ski resort in the Alps. He’d be on the slopes, she’d be on the slopes…” Zuri gestured dramatically with her free hand. “Or they’d meet at après ski, talk about Brownsville, fall in love, and roll on down the river together.”
“Your dad thought he was going to steal Tina Turner from Erwin Bach?” Kyree couldn’t help himself. He threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing beneath the gazebo’s wooden roof. “That’s the most audacious plan I’ve ever heard.”
Zuri was laughing, too, her shoulders shaking. “He’s funny like that. And he’s lucky my mom has a good sense of humor.”
“Wait, does Tina Turner even ski?”
“Not a clue. But we go to Switzerland to ski every spring.”
Kyree was suddenly eager to meet Zuri’s dad––a man confident enough to think he had a chance with the Ms. Tina Turner. It was no wonder his daughter had the confidence to pursue him down the hallway.
“How’s the cocoa, by the way?” Kyree asked.
“Um… Well, it’s okay,” she said softly.
“Just okay?”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s not bad. It’s just that I like it thicker––like how the Italians do it––hot, rich, and extra thick.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “So that’s how you like your chocolate, huh? Rich and extra thick?”
“Something like that.” She bit her bottom lip, holding his gaze.
God, he wanted to devour her right here and now.
Movement caught Kyree’s eye, and he turned his head to see a teenage boy with a freckled face and red hair peeping from under his wool hat, approaching their gazebo, a stack of colorful flyers in his hands.
