She pushed the call button for the elevators, dropped her phone into her purse, and pulled out her lipstick. Turning to the mirror on the opposite wall, she touched up her lips, and admired herself, feeling alluring and sexy––something she hadn’t felt in years. Probably not since before she met Bryan, her ex-fiancé, she thought putting her lipstick away.
The thought of him crept in uninvited. It had been a somewhat immature college relationship, and the engagement had been premature—painfully so in hindsight. They’d met during their sophomore year of college and had only been together for a year and a half before Bryan Payton Jr. got down on one knee, and proposed in front of his entire extended family during his grandmother’s seventy-fifth birthday celebration. Zuri had been thoroughly unnerved by the melodramatic gesture, complete with a twelve-by-twelve-foot wall of roses, a fog machine, and a two-carat Harry Winston diamond engagement ring.
She wondered if he’d considered her personality at all––her love of quiet, intimate moments, her tendency to shy away from the spotlight––while planning the grand proposal. Yet, she had cried, and gushed, and said ‘Yes’, nonetheless. On paper, Bryan was everything she thought she wanted: good-looking, intelligent, ambitious, and from an affluent Black family––financially secure and groomed to take over his parents’ one-hundred-fifty-year-old insurance company.
At twenty-four years old, Zuri had always imagined herself in her mother’s shoes, and on the arm of a successful man like her father, Neil––President of the Monarch Trust and Holdings Bank. However, when she’d said yes to Bryan, Zuri hadn’t considered that beyond privilege and success, her parents were also bound together by a love that could weather any storm.
She and Bryan had decided to wait until after graduation to plan their wedding, but that day had come and gone, and Zuri hadn’t been able to bring herself to set a date. She’d cringed every time someone pressed her on the issue, or asked about her dress, colors, theme, or bridesmaids. Anything wedding-related made her want to run for the hills. By the end of that summer, Zuri had realized that “looks good on paper” wasn’t going to be good enough for her, and that she wanted the kind of love that had kept her parents happily married for thirty-four years.
Once she learned that excitement, passion, and spark were the key ingredients missing from her relationship with Bryan, she was finally able to admit the truth to herself: she didn’t love him and she didn’t want to marry him. She just wanted to break free of the box she’d put herself into.
An elevator finally arrived, and chaos poured out: two parents with four young kids clamoring for their attention. One was crying and wanted to be picked up; another was whining that he was “still hungrrryyyyyy”; the third, focused on a handheld wooden puzzle, was oblivious to the fact that she had turned in the wrong direction off the elevator until a tug on the leash attached to her red backpack caught her attention; and the youngest, in his mother’s arms, was grasping at her shirt with his little hands, demanding to be let into the milk bar.
Zuri quickly used her hand to keep the doors from closing as the father, the last one to step off, peeked around the pile of wrapped gift boxes he carried to make sure he wasn’t stepping on anyone or anything, while the mother flashed her a bright smile and a breathy, “Kids.” Subtext: Would you like one?
Zuri chuckled at the sweet scene and stepped into the elevator. She hit the button for the lobby and leaned against the handrail, and reflected on how much she had grown in the two and a half years since she’d ended her engagement––how she’d thrown out her immature, superficial notions about love and marriage.
But, it wasn’t until two months ago at a Halloween party in Bushwick, surrounded by friends and playful lovers in their clever couples-costumes, that Zuri realized she was still embodying the stripped-down, meek version of herself she’d created to fit into Bryan’s old-money world––the one she thought she’d wanted to be part of. By the time she’d walked the four blocks from the party to her apartment that night, Zuri had started a new group chat, and within minutes was deep in conversation with her three best girlfriends––Soleil Stancliffe, Avery Collins, and Thao Nguy?n.
It didn’t take her long to convince them to join her on a trip to “get back out there.” Thao, perpetually single, and an accountant for her family’s many businesses, and Avery, a trust-fund darling with a doting, but busy boyfriend, were always up for an impromptu getaway. And as her business manager, Zuri already knew that Soleil, a vlogger, stylist, and entrepreneur, had cleared her schedule from December fifteenth through the New Year for some much-needed rest and relaxation.
The elevator doors opened, and Zuri was greeted by the muffled chatter of guests in the busy lobby. As she weaved around the twenty-foot tree and scooted past a bellhop juggling two full trolleys, she patted herself on the back for picking Granite Falls for their getaway. They had arrived yesterday morning to a fresh layer of white, fluffy snow, and checked into two beautifully appointed junior suites.
While the other girls had never been to the charming mountain town before, it was Zuri’s second visit. She’d spent Fourth of July weekend at a rental house on Crystal Lake with her family earlier this year, and had instantly fallen in love with the town. It had everything she could want in a vacation spot: natural beauty, a small-town atmosphere, world-class dining and shopping, skiing, and the renowned Hotel Andreas. So, when she’d gotten the idea for a holiday getaway, she knew exactly where she wanted to go.
It was perfect, she thought, slipping beneath a stone archway that led from the lobby to a softly lit corridor, the scent of pine following her, and the music coming from L’Antra growing steadily louder.
* * *
Zuri sashayed through the crowd in her four-inch-heels. L’Antra rivaled any exclusive club she’d been to in New York, Paris, or L.A., and hummed with energetic conversation layered over the low throb of DJ Estelle’s music. Servers in red bejeweled tailcoats and gold “Merry Christmas” headbands weaved between the high-top tables and seating areas arranged with navy blue tweed sofas, ivory velvet armchairs, and low black and white marble tables. It was the kind of atmosphere Zuri lived for––vibrant, sexy, and deliciously unpredictable.
“Zuri!”
Avery’s unmistakable high-pitched, melodic voice rang out above the noise.
Zuri spotted her friend waving from their seating beside the dance floor, her bright hazel eyes sparkling with excitement, and her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and over her body-hugging burgundy dress, showing off her toned yogi physique.
Thao––petite with sleek black hair, straight-cut bangs, dark, almond-shaped eyes, and delicate cheekbones––sat next to Avery in a long, silver pencil skirt and matching sparkly tube top. She was helping a waitress place their drinks on a table already laden with canapés and candles.
Soleil peeked over her bare shoulder as Zuri side-stepped her way through the throngs to reach them, her wide brown eyes smiling, and her natural curls brushing her toned upper arms. Wrapped in a berry-red, velvet mini dress with a floral-appliquéd skirt, she seemed to blossom like a winter rose. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, her cheeks full—of something delicious, no doubt.
Her friends looked as fabulous as when they’d come down to secure their table while Zuri dealt with her pie emergency. The only difference now was that they, along with almost everyone else, were wearing party headbands––Soleil and Avery in reindeer antlers, and Thao with a candy cane crown, while other people sported glittery garland and Santa hats, too.
“Sorry guys,” she said as she reached their table.
“No problem, Z. Is everything straightened out with your mom?” Soleil asked.
“Yeah––and she sends her love.”
“Love you, too, Mrs. Harris,” Avery said, as she adjusted her antlers. “Now sit your gorgeous ass down.”
More than ready to kick the night off, Zuri sank down beside Soleil, and instantly winced. “Oo, damn!” She rubbed her bruised backside with a gentle hand.
“Still hurts?” Avery asked.
She nodded and set her purse behind her on the sofa. “Just a little.”
Earlier today, Zuri’s competitive nature––which had served her well on her high school’s ski team––had sent her limping back to the base lodge after she’d taken a nasty spill racing Thao down a black diamond trail at Crown Peak Resort. Avery, who had recently picked up snowboarding to indulge her ski-bunny friends, had eagerly joined her by the fire where Zuri had been icing her bruise.
