Except thereal quickmust’ve meant something different in Cajun. I’d finished my first champagne glass and was halfway through the next. He drove so slow that I’d show up looking like the tipsy auntie at the wedding, ready for an open bar.
Maybe Montana wanted me tipsy? What had he said months ago? Well, Zuri was relaxing! My anxiety had disappeared while I lay between Montana’s arms the first night. It came crawling back tonight. Still, the bold champagne was definitely turning my apprehensions into a we’re-gonna-be-alright situation.
When the limo stopped, I exited once the driver opened the door. His expression made my eyes narrow in anticipation.Dang it, Montana, this better not be a party!
The oyster-shell driveway looked familiar. A discarded toy lay half tucked behind a white pillar I knew well.
This man hadn’t taken me anywhere.
Well, half a mile. The side of Montana’s estate sat glowing, a silhouette because of the candlelight and strings of lanterns. But the mansion didn’t steal my breath.
The tent did. Not like the ones where folks set up for a crawfish boil, with folding chairs and signs saying, Fresh Catch! The massive domed tent, with its cathedral of silk, spilled Mardi Gras colors across the night sky. Violet, emerald, and gold shimmered from the canopy, which had the nerve to glow with chandeliers. Jazz rippled out, brass and bass mingling in the cool February air. With the velvet box clutched under my arm, I watched people strut toward the vaulted tent.
A man with broad shoulders, dressed in a tailcoat suit, stood beside a full-figured beauty, wearing an elaborate gown fit for the queen of Mardi Gras. A feathered fantasy. I hadn’t even entered, and the two of them glittered—a living Carnival.
They handed another person a mask, then turned to me. “Zuri?” I recognized that voice. Tennessee. He peered from behind a black-and-gold trumpet mask that belonged to a jazz-playing superhero, and his friend wore the mate, with more feathers. “Where’s your mask,bébé?”
“Dahlin’, you didn’t lose it, did you?” the girl purred, voice smooth like she got paid top dollar to sound sexy and syrupy.
“I’ve got it.” I lifted the velvet box. “Took it off on the bumpy road, it’s too fragile.
“Oh, good,” she said. “Lemme help you put it back on.”
Tennessee gestured between us, making introductions. “Phoenix, Zuri. Zuri, Phoenix.”
Since he conveniently skipped the details that mattered to nosy women, I filled them in. “Yourdateis beautiful.”
“Best friend,” he blurted. “P is my best?—”
“—friend,” Phoenix drawled, in a teasing lilt that made mommy-me wonder how friendly they got.
So naturally, I doubled down, while she held the box, and I opened it. “Hey, that’s cute, though. Your name is a location. His name is a location. Wash and Madison are named after presidents?—”
And that’s when my sentence crashed and burned.Dang. I’d chosen a failed marriage for my bid at their love connection. Funny, though, the band chose this moment to add a trumpet.Yep, a comedic sound effect.
“Didn’t think of that,” he said.Boy, please. He thought of it. Everyone but the sweetteaseat his side thought of it.
Phoenix swatted my arm. “Oh,bébé, you’re funny though. We just cannot! It’s off-limits. Forbidden. Heh. Grab the holyearl, you feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you.” I chuckled. “He’s related to Montana, so the forbidden has an allure.”
Tennessee’s head tilted. “Go on, girl. Go on.”
Laughter did something to my soul as I glided into the tent. Velvet drapes cascaded like theater curtains. Guests swirled insequined gowns, feathers, tuxedoes, and masks glittered like jewels. King cake tiers and champagne pyramids sparkled.
When the band’s horns caught the light, I wondered if Montana had invited me to a family member’s wedding. Servers wove around with trays of pralines and cocktails.
I recognized Peaches first—pink and feathers—then his mom. I distinguished a few coworkers by their phantom masks. Some teammates wore Dodger blue velvet suit jackets. The scene, though lovely, carried a weight, a poignant ache that resonated with me.
For a second, I forgot this was Valentine’s, forgot the reason I’d worn this Carnival queen gown. Forgot my doubts, forgot the shadow from the past that lingered behind.
Because this man built a whole universe just to surprise me.
montana
. . .
Similar to New Year’s Eve, I waited for my woman to enter. Hugged the family I gave a damn about. To be honest, some folks narrowed that list real quick. Their absence said a lot. Either I didn’t trust ‘em, or they didn’t have my number since I signed with the major leagues.
