The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque)
Read The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque) Online
Authors: Adrianne Byrd
Love in plain sight…
In a sequel to
Unforgettable,
successful businesswoman Ophelia Missler has never had time to look for Mr. Right—much less find him. Now she’s engaged to wealthy businessman Jonas Hinton and is about to have the wedding of her dreams. But for some reason, she can’t stop thinking about her longtime best friend, Solomon Bassett. She never suspected that Solomon has secretly adored her for years, and has been unable to tell her how he really feels. Now, with their friendship and future in the balance, Solomon and Ophelia will have to listen to their hearts and dare to follow, if they are ever going to discover an everlasting love.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoy the rerelease of
The Beautiful Ones,
the third book in a series that introduces best friends Ophelia Missler and Solomon Bassett. This story also includes one of the heartbreaking Hinton brothers. Although the books were never meant to become a series, I fell in love with the characters and so have the fans. And voilà, the series continues to this day, and includes the House of Kings trilogy, which features the Hintons’ cousins: Eamon, Xavier and Jeremy King.
I hope you like this story about how friends become lovers, and how true love is sometimes closer than you think. In this case, when push comes to shove, Ophelia and Solomon discover that their feelings are more than just platonic.
In addition to
The Beautiful Ones,
look for the rest of the books in the series:
Unforgettable
and
Comfort of a Man,
as well as
Feel the Fire
and
Love Takes Time,
which are already available. Next month readers will finally get to read the much-anticipated love story of Quentin Hinton. Stay tuned and visit me on my website,
www.adriannebyrd.com
, and sign up for the newsletter so that you can be informed of all my latest releases.
Until then, I wish you the best of love,
Adrianne Byrd
To Kathy Alba:
Best friends for life
Prologue
Today, Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson Airport
F
light 1269 for Los Angeles was delayed. Toni Wright entered through the lobby doors of the cocktail lounge of the airline’s Crown Room in desperate need of a drink. Instead her eyes zeroed in on a handsome brother at the bar who looked like he wanted to drown his sorrows in his glass.
Fleetingly, she wondered what could be so bad, but the last thing she wanted to do was play Dear Abby to some stranger. She stopped at the bar and ordered a Cosmopolitan. As she waited, her gaze drifted back to the stranger.
He was tall, just like she liked them, and well dressed. In fact, his aura seemed to drip with power and prestige—which definitely wasn’t a negative.
She wished he would look up so she could see his eyes. She had a feeling they were beautiful.
“Here you go, ma’am,” the bartender said.
Toni smiled and laid down a tip. She turned to walk away but then felt compelled to make small talk with the brooding brother. Why not? Her best friend, Brooklyn, had met the love of her life in a bar—maybe lightning would strike twice.
“A penny for your thoughts,” she said, and then cringed at the campy line. When he didn’t respond, she felt like an idiot. Never one to shy away from a challenge, Toni settled into the chair next to him.
It was a good thing, too; the man’s heavenly fragrance was seductive enough to melt off a woman’s panties.
He reached for his glass and drained the rest of his drink.
“Buy you another?” she asked.
Finally, he glanced her way. Just as she thought—he had beautiful eyes.
“I always thought men were supposed to do the asking, not the other way around?”
Toni’s toes curled at the velvety smoothness of his voice. “I figured we could make an exception, seeing how you look as if you need it.”
A corner of his lips curled and an adorable dimple appeared. “That’s very kind of you, but—”
“And if it makes you feel better, you can buy my next one.” She winked and flashed him her best smile.
He hesitated, looked her over, and then nodded. “Deal.”
While Toni signaled for the bartender, she could feel the man’s eyes linger on her. She hoped he liked what he saw, but there were no guarantees, since she’d dressed down for travel.
“You’re a lawyer,” he said flatly.
Astonished, she glanced back at him. “How did you know that?”
He smiled again. “You have that look about you.”
“Oh?” She crossed her arms. “And what look is that?”
“The I-can-eat-anyone-alive-and-still-have-room-for-dessert look.”
She laughed and managed to maintain eye contact. “Does that look scare you?”
“Very little scares me.” His smile diminished, but he remained polite.
“Another scotch on the rocks for the gentleman,” the bartender announced.
For a few minutes after the drink was delivered, Toni found herself at a loss as to how to keep the conversation going. She had already used the penny-for-your-thoughts line, and she just wasn’t willing to demean herself by asking for his zodiac sign.
“Thanks for the drink, but I don’t think I’m going to be very good company,” he said.
She considered him for a moment and warred with herself as to whether to stay or leave. “You know, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener,” she said. “And it looks like I have plenty of time to kill.”
“You don’t want to hear my sob story.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She smiled. “Maybe I can help.”
“Trust me. I’ve heard it all. Trouble don’t last always. This, too, shall pass. Or my personal favorite—there are plenty of fish in the sea.”
Genuine concern crept into her voice. “So, someone broke your heart?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
Toni drew a deep breath. “Who was she?”
“Someone…very special,” he whispered. “Someone I loved the moment I laid eyes on her.”
She waited for him to continue, but she saw she had to nudge a little more. “Does this someone have a name?”
He nodded. “Yes—Ophelia Missler. I guess you could say it all started at a wedding…”
The Beginning or the End…
Chapter 1
O
n a beautiful June day, Marcel Taylor and Diana Guy spoke their vows before God, friends, and family. It was a nontraditional wedding where Brandy—Marcel’s ninety-pound Doberman pinscher—served as the ring bearer. Timothy Banks, Diana’s best friend and neighbor, stood as the maid of honor—in a tux, and Ophelia Missler, one of Marcel’s closest childhood friends, took her place as a groomsman.
After the priest introduced Mr. and Mrs. Marcel Taylor to the guests, a shower of rose petals descended on the smiling couple.
Louisa Mae Styles, Diana’s grandmother and a cancer survivor, couldn’t stop crying, and now demanded that the couple get busy producing babies.
Donald and Camille Taylor, Marcel’s parents, said their congratulations to the couple and also hassled them about grandchildren.
At the reception, Solomon Bassett, Marcel’s best friend and business partner, approached Ophelia for a dance.
As he took her into his arms, he marveled at how long he, Ophelia, and Marcel had been the best of friends.
Solomon first met Marcel when his family moved next door to the Bassetts in the summer of ’78. Their love of sports was all it took to seal their life-long friendship. It was the year when Reggie Jackson, O.J. Simpson, Muhammad Ali, and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar ruled their world. Solomon and Marcel vowed to be the first athletes to win the Super Bowl, the NBA finals, and the World Series. Life was good.
In the winter of ’81, Ophelia, a scrawny girl who they originally suspected had cooties, wormed her way into their private club. It was hard to ignore her. She could sail a fastball past the best players in the neighborhood and could run like the wind. Life was better.
By the time puberty hit, Ophelia’s long, thin legs suddenly had shape to them, and her round bottom was a nice distraction in Gloria Vanderbilt jeans. And Lord, her breasts. Solomon, to this day, didn’t know where they came from, but suddenly she had them, and they were the best pair in their junior high school. His brotherly affection toward her had changed overnight, and life had never been the same.
Ophelia was amazingly beautiful, with her perfect honey-coated skin and mesmerizing topaz-colored eyes. Today her thick, sandy brown hair with streaks of blond was pressed iron straight and hung like a beautiful curtain to the center of her back.
Solomon had never found the words to tell Ophelia about his feelings, mainly because she always had seemed more attracted to Marcel. But, in a recent talk at one of their favorite cafés, Solomon had relayed the story of how Marcel was snared by his former secretary, Diana, and Ophelia had revealed that she’d once harbored a secret crush on him.
Maybe things were finally about to change between them.
He wasn’t too happy that she had brought a date to the wedding, but hey, it wasn’t like he had any right to be jealous.
“I’m glad you told me about their love story,” Ophelia said, beaming at the couple. “They look so happy.”
“I have a feeling that they are.” He drew in a deep breath. “Ophelia, there’s something I’ve been dying to tell you.”
“There’s something I have to tell you, too,” she said, smiling.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I told Jonas about Marcel and Diana—”
“Who?”
“My date—Jonas Hinton.” She frowned. “You never pay attention to me, do you?”
“Of course I do.” He tried to cover up with a smile.
“Well, anyway, Jonas and I have been dating for a while, and last night he popped the question.”
Solomon’s heart dropped. “What question?”
Ophelia slapped him on the shoulder. “
The
question, silly. Now, we haven’t picked out a ring, but…we’re getting married.” She bounced excitedly against him. “Isn’t that great?”
He stopped dancing. “What?”
Her smile started to ebb away. “Aren’t you happy for me?”
Slowly he managed a butterfly smile. “That’s great.”
“I know it’s a shock.” She giggled. “But don’t tell Marcel and Diana. I don’t want to take anything away from their day.”
“My lips are sealed.”
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thanks. You know I want you and Marcel to serve as bridesmaids.”
He managed a chuckle. “I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
He managed to finish the dance with some semblance of dignity, but soon found himself at the bar.
“What’s with the long face?” Marcel asked, slapping him on the back as he joined him. “No one should be frowning at my wedding.”
“Don’t worry about me, man. I’m fine. Congratulations again.” He looked around. “Where’s Diana?”
“Upstairs changing. It’s about time we leave you guys for our honeymoon in Bermuda.”
“Ah, white sands and pastel-colored buildings.”
“Paradise for thirty days.”
“I’m jealous.”
“Shouldn’t be.” He draped an arm around Solomon’s shoulder. “I see Ophelia showed up with Jonas.”
“Yeah. Don’t remind me.”
“You know, you better get in there before he snatches up your girl. A woman can only wait for so long.”
“You’ve been married an hour, and already you’ve turned into Dear Abby.”
Marcel held up his hands. “Just trying to help.”
Solomon bobbed his head and glanced back at the dance floor to see Ophelia floating in Jonas’s arms.
Minutes later, Diana appeared at the top of the stairs dressed in an all-white linen suit. Below her, a small crowd of single women gathered around for the tossing of the bridal bouquet.
The crowd gasped when an unladylike shove awarded Nora Gibson, a wickedly ambitious employee at T & B Entertainment, the prize instead of Marcel’s thirteen-year-old cousin.
“I got it. I got it.”
“You sure did, honey.” Willy Bassett, Solomon’s philandering uncle, beamed at her as she slid next to him.
“Now that’s a crazy match,” Marcel whispered to Diana.
Seconds later, Solomon won the garter-belt toss. He gave Ophelia a long, meaningful glance and then held the garter up for a loud cheer from the crowd.
More rose petals rained down on Marcel and Diana as they made their mad dash to their limo. While Solomon was incredibly happy for the couple, who were embarking on a new chapter in their lives, he battled a tsunami of depression.
“Solomon?”
He turned toward the sweet sound of Ophelia’s voice and ignored the tightening in his chest when he faced her.
“It looks like it’s one down and two to go.” Her full lips slid into a smile.
He hesitated before finally replying. “Not for long.”
Her cheeks flushed prettily before a tall, light-skinned brother slid next to her and draped an arm around her waist.
“Hey, baby. I brought you a drink,” the man said, and then cast a curious glance at Solomon. “Hello, I’m Jonas.” He jutted out a hand.
Solomon straightened and sized up Ophelia’s fiancé. Both men stood at an even six-two, but where Solomon looked the part of a clean-cut, scholarly type, Jonas looked as though he were born to be on a Hollywood screen. In fact, Solomon couldn’t remember ever seeing a man with such long, curly lashes.
Ophelia coughed, and Solomon suddenly realized that he hadn’t responded to the man’s introduction.
“Solomon,” he said, accepting Jonas’s hand. The men pumped each other’s arms with more strength than was necessary.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jonas said, but there was very little warmth in his eyes. “Ophelia talks a lot about you.”
Solomon’s gaze returned to hers. “Is that right?”
“Yeah,” Jonas continued. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I’d have to watch her around you.”
Ophelia playfully slapped Jonas on the chest. “Solomon and I are just friends.”
Just friends.
Solomon forced a smile. “Well, let me be the first to wish you the best of luck. Any ideas when this happy event will take place?”
Ophelia rolled her eyes heavenward. “Well—”
“The sooner the better,” Jonas answered. “I know I’m hoping for something before the new year.”
Solomon’s heart dropped.
“That’s just around the corner,” Ophelia said, astonished.
“What can I say? I can’t wait to make you a Hinton.” He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the nose.
“And I can’t wait to be a Hinton,” she responded, gazing up at him.
“All this gushy sweet stuff is bad for my diabetes,” Solomon said with a healthy dose of sarcasm. “If you two will excuse me.” He turned and walked away.
He hadn’t moved more than a few feet when he felt a restraining hand against his shoulder. Turning, he once again faced Ophelia—minus the fiancé.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” she asked, frowning. “Aren’t you happy for me?”
He didn’t want to answer that. “Of course I am.”
Her brows rose as if she detected his lie.
“I’m just shocked,” he amended. “I didn’t even know that you were seeing someone seriously. You never mentioned it.”
Her smile trembled a bit while she shrugged. “Well, I guess it happened kind of fast.”
He studied her for a moment before he cast a glance over her shoulder to see Jonas watching them from a distance. “Just how long have you been seeing this guy?”
She shrugged again. “Not long…maybe four months.”
“Four months?” he echoed. “You hardly know him.”
“That’s not true,” she said defensively.
“What’s his mother’s maiden name?”
She blinked. “I don’t know. What does that have to do with anything?”
“What’s my mother’s maiden name?”
“Baker.”
He smiled and crossed his arms. “How does he like his coffee?”
“He, uh…”
“How do I like my coffee?”
Ophelia hesitated.
“Well?”
“Milk, no cream, no sugar.”
“I think I made my point.”
“But I love him,” she admitted, settling her hands on her hips.
Her words wiped the smug smile from Solomon’s lips and plunged the blade of jealousy deeper into his heart. “Then I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
Ophelia’s face lit up as she leaned up on her toes and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Thanks, Solomon. You have no idea what it means to me to hear you say that.”
“Ophelia?” Jonas’s voice floated over to them.
“You better go,” Solomon said. “I think your fiancé is getting nervous.”
“A little jealousy won’t hurt him.” She winked, kissed Solomon, and turned away.
Solomon watched as she returned to her fiancé’s side. For a brief moment, his gaze met Jonas’s, and he felt as if the man could read his mind. Exhaling a long breath, Solomon turned away and went in search of the open bar. “I need a drink.”