At First Kiss

No way would she get married in six months, either.

She glared at the lawyer again.

The lawyer moved even further back. “As I said, you have six months in which to get married. You’re mother’s will is very specific about what she wants for you. And she left you this letter to read at your leisure. She said it would explain her reasons for wanting this for you.”

Reasons? Reasons? She didn’t need to read the letter to get her mother’s reasons. It was obvious that her mother had lost her mind in her last days. Why else would the woman who’d told her on a daily basis that she needed to be able to take care of herself and do for herself because men aren’t worth a damn now be demanding that she get married?

Insanity was the only reasonable answer.

She reached over to take the letter off the desk and the lawyer moved back. If she weren’t so irritated it would have been funny. She was tempted to really lose it and throw a serious fit that would give him a real excuse to take all the precautions he was taking. But she didn’t have it in her.

She had funeral arrangements to finalize, and her mourning wouldn’t let her expend any more energy on the scared little lawyer. The only other thing she could think about was how she would make sure Clifton Williamson never spent one dime of her mother’s money and how she was apparently going to have to find a husband in six months…

The island breeze and the sound of Lalah Hathaway’s beautiful voice riffing and scatting like Ella Fitzgerald reincarnated made Troy feel like his impromptu trip to the Barbados Jazz festival was more than worth the wrath he was going to incur from his father/boss when he got back to Detroit. Besides the great footage the two-man camera crew was getting for his top-rated show, Detroit Live, he was also proving a point to his meddlesome father.

And the women…oh, the women.

Barbados in January—with its white-sand beaches, azure-blue waters, lush green foliage and breathtaking tropical flowers—all the beautiful women—both the local fare and the many who traveled from other countries to enjoy the festival—had made his trip all the more worthwhile. The bevy of beauties, the music and the atmosphere made him feel like he was in player’s paradise.

“So are you really going to keep in contact with me when we get back home? Detroit is a long way from New Jersey. You’re probably just on the prowl for an island fling like my girlfriends said.” A high-pitched, nasal voice piped into his chill space sounding like a deep and ugly scratch on a vintage album.

Troy pulled his attention away from Lalah’s melodious voice and the fine women all around him to focus on the petite cutie sitting next to him. He’d met her the night before when they were listening to Roy Ayers perform. She had been with a group of other women and stood out as the hottest one in that bunch.

But she was starting to become just a tad too clingy for Troy’s tastes. And he didn’t have the energy to expend making her feel secure when he’d just met her. Plus there were so many women in attendance, women more adept at the game and who knew how players play.

“Sure… We can definitely connect when we get back to the States. I travel a lot getting footage for the job. Anything that has something to do with the entertainment industry is of interest to my viewers. So, I’ll definitely look you up if I’m near…” Troy struggled to remember both her name and where she was from. He hoped that his pauses hadn’t clued her in.

He gave her a smile, one of his most suave displays, and added a slight wink.

She pouted, and he had to admit the little lip poking out looked sexy. He remembered what it had felt like to kiss her last night when he’d walked her back to the hotel room she shared with her girlfriends. It might not be too much energy to put in a little effort now that he remembered she was a pretty good kisser. She might have been clingy, but she was also a sexy little thing. It might be worth his while to play a little longer and see if she did other things as well as she kissed.

“Candace from New Jersey,” she deadpanned as she glared at him. “My girls were so-oo right about you. You can’t even remember my name after you kissed and groped me for hours last night. And I’m standing right next to you! You certainly won’t be able to remember me when you get back to Detroit. You’re just a player looking for some island fun!”

Troy expelled an irritated breath. She was not worth all this drama when there were so many women around. “Listen…”

“Candace!” she snapped.

Candace, that’s it!

Why couldn’t he remember her name? Probably because he was bad with names anyway and made it his business to use endearments whenever possible like “baby,” “sweetheart” or “darling.” That way he never slipped and called someone the wrong name and he didn’t have to bother trying to remember them.

“Listen, Candace, I seem to remember you kissing and groping me just as much, if not more, than I did you. And I didn’t hear any complaints last night.” He gave her another smile, because honestly he was a lover not a fighter and all her drama was starting to become a real drain.

When she continued to give him the evil death stare, he shrugged.

It was time to cut his losses.

“You know what, why don’t we just go our separate ways. I’ve got to connect with my crew anyway to shoot some footage of some other island hot spots for the show. And clearly you and I have very different agendas for how we want to proceed with things. So, it was nice meeting you…”

Damn, I just said her name…

“Candace!” she yelled in that horrible high-pitched voice of hers, and all the heads around them turned. She rolled her eyes, let out a huff of breath and stormed off, leaving him to face the irritated people sitting around them who had been trying to enjoy Lalah Hathaway.

Troy threw up his hands in apology. Even though he hadn’t been the one to cause a scene, he shouldn’t have gotten involved with the clingy woman in the first place. If he had been at the top of his game he would have pegged her for the drama-queen type as soon as he’d met her.

He could have chalked it up to his father’s threats to disinherit him if he didn’t settle down, leave the show and come into the boardroom. But a small voice in the back of his head had doubts.

Maybe I really am getting too old for this shit after all…

The walking dead.

That’s what Jazz felt like as she walked to her airport gate dragging her carry-on bag behind her. The past few days on the beautiful island of her birth had gone by in a blur. From burying her mother, to connecting with family she hadn’t seen in years, to processing the dreadful news she had gotten from her mother’s lawyer, Jazz hadn’t seen a good night’s rest in at least a week.

The only thing she wanted to do was get back to Boston, sleep in her own bed and mourn her mother in peace. Unfortunately, when she got back to Boston, she would have to finish getting things squared away for her move and her new job in Detroit.

She was finally on her way to the big time—cohosting her own show and not just doing entertainment and girl-about-town slots on someone else’s show—and her mother wasn’t going to be there to enjoy it with her.

“Jasmine, is that you?”

That voice…

Good grief, not now!

Why did she have to run into the self-proclaimed playa of the decade in the middle of the Grantley Adams International Airport when she was looking and feeling like crap? And what the hell was Mr. Lover Lover doing in Barbados in the middle of January, anyway?

Troy Singleton, the jet-setting playboy, probably didn’t even need a reason to be on a tropical island in the middle of the winter. He was probably just taking a spur-of-the-moment trip.

And why was he still calling her Jasmine when everyone called her Jazz? The only person that got away with calling her by her full name was her mother.

I can’t stand Troy Singleton!

He walked over to her and she gave him a quick once-over. He would be looking all good when she looked like a hot mess. The man was tall, built like a power forward basketball player and the color of rich, deep caramel. He was, in a word or two, hella fine. “It is you.” He quickly embraced her and she gave him the half-pat-butt-poked-out-and-away church hug.

They both let go just as quickly as they could. They couldn’t get away from each other soon enough.

She had no idea what his deal was, but she knew her own reason for the quick hug all too well. Un til she’d met Troy, she had never met a man she wouldn’t let wine and dine her. She couldn’t afford to let Troy Singleton buy her a hot dog on the street, let alone anything else at all.

She lived by the motto “Men are like buses. Miss one? Next fifteen minutes another one will be passing by.” She was a serial dater and proud of it. They would never catch her slipping, and her player card was certified platinum.

“You look like death warmed over, Jasmine. What the hell happened to you?” He looked her up and down with a twisted-up expression on his face.

She glared at him and ran her hand across her head. The cute twist out she’d had when she first arrived in Barbados was long gone, and her bright auburn natural hair was now pulled into a rather funky ponytail.

And it was too darn hot for makeup, even if she had dark circles the size of tea bags under her eyes.

While her sweatsuit might not have been Juicy Couture and was instead Hanes mix and match, it was comfortable for the long plane ride.

And who the hell was Troy Singleton to be telling her what she looked like, anyway?

She narrowed her very tired eyes. “Well, hello to you too, Stud.”

He frowned at her little nickname for him.

If he refused to call her Jazz like the rest of the known and free world then she made it her business to call him anything but his name. Her favorite was variations of Stud, from Studly to Studster to Studalicious and then some.

He sighed, and she could tell the exact moment when he chose to ignore her.

“Were you at the Jazz Festival? It was amazing, wasn’t it? Are you covering it for those little spots you do in Boston? Oh, wait, Alicia said you’re moving to Detroit soon. Are you going to be working for my competition?” She smirked. If you only knew, Studdy Boy…

“I didn’t even realize the Jazz Festival was going on, I was too busy. My mom passed away and she wanted to be buried here, at home in Barbados. So I had to do that—”

He hugged her and it startled her so she stopped speaking.

“I’m so sorry to hear about your mom, Jasmine. Alicia didn’t tell me that you were here burying your mother. I would have come to the funeral to pay my respects. I was here all week shooting footage for Detroit Live.”

She cleared her throat and tried to pull away, but he held her close. “Alicia didn’t know that my mom passed away. I didn’t want to upset her. She’s in the last stages of pregnancy with my godchild, after all.”

“Our godchild,” he corrected. “And she is going to be so mad at you! Alicia’s going to be heated! You know she has to know everything. That’s why she eavesdrops all the damn time. And when she finds out that your mom passed away and you didn’t tell her…” He shook with mock fear.

“It’s not like she could do anything. She can’t fly this late in the pregnancy, and it would have only upset her and given her something else to worry about. I figured I’d tell her when I move there in a couple of weeks.” She pulled away from him.

“You know that won’t be enough to appease Alicia. She could have sent Darren, her mother, her father, my sister and Kendrick, heck, she could have even sent me to be here with you and give you moral support.”

He made a show of looking at her chest, and she crossed her arm in front of her breasts.

“I’m just looking for the S on your chest, because you must think you’re Superwoman or something, Jasmine. Everyone has to lean on someone sometime.”

Jazz knew he was right. But growing up the only child of a hardworking immigrant mother, she had learned early on how to fend for and count on herself. Even though Alicia Taylor-Whitman had been her best friend since college, and through her Jazz’s extended family had grown immensely and she really did have people she could count on now, people that apparently included the bane of her existence, Troy Singleton, she still had a do-for-self attitude.

Great! Now her best friend was going to be pissed at her, too, just when she was finally moving to Detroit and they’d be living in the same city again for the first time since they had graduated from Mount Holyoke.

Alicia could hold a grudge like nobody’s business, too. The woman had stayed separated from her husband the entire nine months of her first pregnancy because he had lied to her about their fathers arranging their marriage.

And Troy might have been boasting about how he would have been there for her, but when she moved to Detroit and took her new job, he would be singing another tune. Even her favorite playboy frenemy probably wouldn’t give her the time of day once she moved to Detroit and he found out where she was going to be working.

She wouldn’t have anyone…

Before she knew it a tear started working its way down her cheek, and it was soon followed by another and then another.

She tried to stop them.

She was Carlyne Stewart’s strong daughter for God’s sake and she did not cry in public. She hadn’t cried in public during the entire week of funeral planning, the funeral or the horrid meeting with her mother’s lawyer. No way was she going to break down in the middle of the Barbados airport in front of Troy Singleton of all people.

Her lip quivered.

Oh, damn. Damn it all to hell!

Troy shook his head and frowned at her before taking her ticket out of her hands and walking away.

She thought about calling after him and asking him where the hell he thought he was going with her ticket. But the tears where falling full speed now and she felt the beginnings of hiccups and snot and all kinds of things that probably wouldn’t have been at all dignified. And she wanted to look at least halfway dignified when she got up the gumption to cuss Troy out. So she ran off to the restroom instead to have a nice good cry in the privacy of a stall.

Troy shook his head as he walked over to the ticket counter after telling his cameramen that he wouldn’t be flying back to Detroit with them. Somebody had to look after Jasmine. The woman was clearly in no shape to look after herself. Case in point, he had never seen her looking like anything less than a million bucks and today she looked as hopeless as a penny with a hole in it.

She was still fine as all get out with her Coke-bottle figure that made a man have all kinds of thoughts and her flawless toasted-cinnamon skin.

It was just clear she hadn’t slept in days and her normally funky fresh natural hairstyle of springy-corky auburn twists all over her head was now just funky.

He had to change his ticket and see her back to Boston. If he went back to Detroit and their mutual friend Alicia Taylor-Whitman found out that he wasn’t there for Jasmine in her time of need, he would never hear the end of it. And since Alicia was married to his best friend Darren Whitman, and Alicia’s cousin Kendrick was married to Troy’s sister, Sonya, the entire family would be giving him the blues.

He paid for his ticket and paid to have her ticket upgraded to first class. No way was he flying coach, and he didn’t understand how she could. He wasn’t private-jet status like the Whitmans, but he couldn’t remember ever flying coach in his life.

Once he’d handled the transaction he went looking for Jasmine. She wasn’t where he’d left her and she wasn’t sitting near the gate, so he assumed she must be in the restroom.

He stood outside of the ladies’ room and waited for her to come out. About fifteen minutes later she did.

Damn! Just when he thought she couldn’t possibly look any worse, she surprised him. Her eyes were bloodshot red. The tip of her nose was red as well, and her cheeks were flushed.

He handed her the new first-class ticket. “I’m going to fly back to Boston with you to make sure you get home safely—”

“You don’t have to do that, Studster. I’m an adult. I think I can make it home on my own.”

He cringed. Nothing irritated him more than her calling him any of her variations on Stud. He didn’t know why it bothered him. He had certainly been called worse. And it wasn’t like she could possibly pass judgment on him. She was as big a player as he was. And it’s not like it should have mattered what Alicia’s little friend thought of him anyway…

But it did.

Ever since he’d been assigned to pick her up from the airport for Alicia and Darren’s wedding ten years ago, it had mattered to him what Jasmine Stewart thought of him. He had been rather late picking her up back then and they had been on the wrong foot ever since.

“That Superwoman routine is going to land your ass in the mental hospital one day, Jasmine. Let me help you, because you know Alicia is going to have a fit when she finds out. You might as well do the right thing now and then at least she won’t be pissed at both of us.” He grinned because he knew that would get her.

She rolled her eyes. “Alicia Taylor-Whitman is not the boss of me and neither are you, Studly.” She glanced at her ticket. “First class? I can’t afford first class!”

“Consider it my treat then, because I’m not flying coach.”

“C’dear, black blue bloods does kill muh de way yuh does put on airs and ting.” She switched back to her regular speech. “Your ass know you can fly coach.” She laughed and for the first time since he’d run into her she was actually looking like her pretty self.

He shook his head.

He reminded himself that Jasmine was like family. At least she was kind of like a distant cousin that you didn’t really like but tolerated during the holidays… And it was not cool to think of her in terms like pretty.

Although, since Troy’s best friend Kendrick had married Troy’s sister and Troy’s other best friend Darren had married Kendrick’s cousin, apparently Troy was the only one who knew it wasn’t wise to hook up with women who were so close that you would never be able to get rid of them. There was no such thing as a smooth break when the ties were that connected. And Troy always had to have an easy exit strategy, especially when it came to the fairer sex.

So Jasmine was not pretty even if she was just about the most gorgeous woman he had ever set eyes on.

“Come on, they’re boarding first class, girl. Let’s see if you still have jokes when you’re enjoying comfy seats, better food and free drinks.”

“Oh, you know I keep jokes, Studmeister.”

“I know you do, Jasmine.”

“Jazz.”

He had no idea why she wanted to shorten such a beautiful name. And he wasn’t even going to think about the fact that he never had any trouble remembering her name from the first time he’d seen her picture and been told it was his duty to pick her up from the airport. But he did like being the only one to call her “Jasmine,” especially because it drove her nuts.

“Jasmine, let’s go,” he said as he started walking off.

“Studaroni, I’m right behind you,” she said, laughing.

He chuckled. It was so easy to be around Jasmine even though she worked his nerves most times. He was glad he could help her during her time of need.

First class rocks!

Jasmine got over her mild irritation with Troy as soon as her butt touched the plush seat and the flight attendant brought her the nice hot towel to wipe her hands before giving her a glass of wine and a package of fancy macadamia nuts to snack on before takeoff.

She polished off the glass of wine and thought about how she was going to have to cut back a little in order to be able to pay Troy back for his ticket and her ticket upgrade. She knew that when he found out where she was going to be working when she moved to Detroit, he was going to regret taking the time to help her. The least she could do was give him his money back for this, because he was going to be pissed.

She yawned. All of a sudden her tiredness came pressing down on her. It felt like a steel weight pushing her into an abyss.

“So you never did say where you’re going to be working in Detroit.”

“I can’t say. I signed a confidentiality clause and I can’t say anything until after they make the big announcement.” That at least was the truth. She couldn’t tell him anything even if she wanted to, not without running the risk of being sued. Never mind the fact that he would probably hightail it off the plane if he did know where she was going to be working.

“It must be big-time if they made you sign a confidentiality clause.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Fine.”

She yawned again and her eyes gave in to the pressure. They closed, and her head nodded to the side and landed on his shoulder. She quickly jerked. She moved her head as soon as it touched his shoulder and she realized what had happened.

He chuckled. “You can lay your head on my shoulder, Jasmine. I won’t bite you. You won’t be able to put your seat back until after we reach cruising altitude and you need all the rest you can get, starting now. Those bags under your eyes look like you could have packed your clothes in them.”

She shot him an evil look and he laughed even harder before she begrudgingly smiled herself. She could have caught an attitude because of his rude way of making the offer. Or she could have even argued with him even though he was right; she did need the rest. But she wasn’t stupid. She rested her head on his shoulder and let the sleep take over.

Troy stared at the sleeping beauty for a long while as her head crept from his shoulder to his chest and way too close to his heart. He resisted the urge to throw his arm around her and pull her close for all of about fifteen minutes. And he told himself that he was only doing this because Jasmine was like a third little sister, that she was just like his sister Sonya and their mutual friend Alicia. Even though he hadn’t grown up with Jasmine the way he had with Sonya and Alicia, and he barely noticed that Sonya and Alicia were women, the way he couldn’t help but notice that Jasmine was all woman, it was no big deal to comfort her at this moment.

He might be a player, but he wasn’t a total jerk. He knew how to be a good friend, and that was all this was.

He snuggled her closer and brushed his lips across her forehead just as the very sexy flight attendant walked by to see that everyone was buckled up for takeoff. The knowing expression on her perfectly made-up face should have set off warning bells in his head. He should have been easing away from Jasmine now that she was asleep and trying to get his flirt on with the flight attendant. All of those things should have happened. And maybe one day he would be in the frame of mind to try and figure out why they didn’t. The only thing he knew at that moment was that Jasmine needed him and he was going to be there for her.

Chapter 3

Player, Player…

T roy eyed Jazz’s little red Mini Cooper with more than a little trepidation, and it didn’t seem like he was going to get into the car anytime soon.

Since the long-term parking garage at Logan International was more than a little cold in the middle of January and she was freezing the majority of her ample behind off, Jazz needed him to man up and get his big fine behind in the car so she could warm it up, make it home and go back to sleep. The rest she’d gotten on the plane ride from Barbados had only gotten her ready for more sleep.

“Don’t you have a real car instead of this match-box toy car? I’m a grown-ass man. I can’t fit in this little go-cart.”

Jazz rolled her eyes.

“C’dear, you and yuh won’ts and can’ts. Yuh won’t fly coach. Yuh cain’t ride in a little car. I startin’ to think yuh even more high-maintenance dan dose Black Barbie dolls yuh date. Come nuh, get in de car and let we left dis cold place!” Jazz opened the door, got in the driver’s side, popped the locks and waited for Troy to follow suit.