“Baby, the flash went off. We all saw it.” He gestured around the cabin, where everyone was trying not to laugh. “You want another one? I can pose this time.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Baby? Let’s not act like we know each other.”
“We getting to know each other right now.” His grin was unapologetic. “Do you want another picture or not?”
“First of all, my name is Kennedi. Second, one is enough.” She tucked her phone away, cheeks still burning. “And third, we just met five minutes ago lets keep it professional.”
“Kennedi,” he repeated, like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. “Nah, I like baby. But you still took my picture without asking, the least you could do is let me have that.”
She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with his “baby” and his audacity, but his flash went off.
“Really?” she asked, glaring at him until her phone buzzed in her hand.Thank God she thought.She glanced down at the responses, and her cheeks hurt from trying to contain her smile.
Isha: Girl... that’s Rolani Pracher. You’ve been gone too long, friend.
Shadow: Have fun, hoe! That’s one of the most eligible bachelors in the city.
“Your friends telling you about me? What they say?” he asked, acting like this was some joke. She shut her eyes; embarrassment consumed her again. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten caught and that he turned right around and snapped one of her.
Her mouth began to move as she whispered a quick prayer, begging for focus.Lord, don’t let me lose my head over this man. Help me keep my legs closed. This weekend is about work.She was a professional. Here for business. Nothing else.
Even as she tried to regulate her breathing, the weight of his attention lingered. When she opened her eyes again, their gazes met, steady this time. He was not pressing her or crowding her space. He was simply watching her, curious and unhurried.
Rolani leaned back in his seat with easy confidence, one arm resting along the side, the faint smile that said don’t try and hide from me unsettled her more than if he had tried to flirt outright.
By the time the jet leveled out in the sky, she was aware of one thing with uncomfortable clarity. This weekend was going to require more discipline than she had planned for.
Chapter Three
The network studioon Melrose was smaller than Kennedi expected. Two camera setups, a backdrop designed to resemble a custom garage, ring lights, and a sound guy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
She’d arrived an hour early to walk the space, check the lighting, and test angles on her phone. She wanted the B-roll clean, the interview tight, and the whole segment polished before the premiere tomorrow. Giovanni had given her full creative control, and she planned to use every bit of it.
Her notebook sat open on the director’s chair, questions arranged by topic, color-coded with tabs. She’d spent the flight organizing her thoughts between stolen glances at a man she was still pretending hadn’t disrupted her whole nervous system.
She’d snapped out of it for a moment. Professional Kennedi was back in charge. The woman from the plane who whispereddamnat the sight of Rolani Pracher had been tucked away, dealt with, and dismissed.
Or so she thought.
Two o'clock came and went. Then two fifteen. Kennedi checked her phone, checked her watch, and checked the door — same man, different city, same problem.
“This man,” she muttered, flipping her notebook shut. She was starting to see a pattern, and the pattern was disrespectful.
She pulled up his number, typed with both thumbs, and almost erased it. She wasn't about to chase a grown man down for a shoot he'd agreed to.
She sent it anyway.
Kennedi: You still coming or should I pivot?
Three dots appeared. Then:
Ro: Outside, give me 5 minutes. My bad.
She set the phone down. Five minutes she could work with. She picked up her notebook and started reviewing her questions, in the meantime, but her eyes kept drifting to the door.
He was sitting in his rental, engine still running, talking to Georgie. Today, Pearl’s headstone was going into the ground. The final marker on a life that had held his together. He’d picked the stone months ago, obsessed over the inscription, and changed it twice. And now it was happening three thousand miles away while he sat in a parking lot on Melrose.
“They said they’re installing it today,” Georgie told him, her voice careful. “The granite is beautiful, baby. Just like she would’ve wanted. I’m heading over to make sure they set it right.”
