Vulnerable (41 page)

“Here you go,” Rawn said, holding out her drink. “A champagne split.”

“Thank you. I love champagne.”

“What's the story behind that?”

“My father. He was born on New Year's Eve. We always had champagne to celebrate. I think I was…I might have been about ten when I had my first glass of champagne.”

“So what's—or is it who's—in L.A.?”

“You first.”

“Why should I go first?”

“Because, that's why!”

“All right, okay. My friend Khalil celebrates thirty-five tomorrow. His girlfriend is a corporate planner in London, and she's throwing this extravagant party.” Rawn took a long gulp of his imported beer. “Hey, you should come.” He nudged her playfully.

“I should?”

“And bring your friend …”

“Wait, there's no
friend
. I'm going to L.A. on business.”

He met her eyes and stayed with them long enough for her to pick up on what he was feeling. But her expression alone suggested to Rawn she had no clue. “Good. So you'll come.”

Yeah, I'll come.
“We shall see.” She tasted her drink for the first time. “Mmmm, this is great! Oh, wait! We should toast.”

“Toast to what?”

“Uhhhh…” Imani attempted to come up with something. “I know!”

Rawn's forehead creased, accentuating his curiosity.

“Timing! To timing!”

No sooner than they clicked their beverages to make a toast, an announcement was made that runways were reopening.

“Timing!” they said in chorus, laughing.

His look turned somber. “I was actually going to leave and take the first flight out tomorrow morning. I'm glad I changed my mind.”

“I was going to do the same thing. Heck, this temperamental weather—who knows!” With an expression solemn but tender, she said, “My father would really have liked you.”

“Why do you say
would have?”

“He's not with us anymore.” Imani noticed it right away: the first real sign of letting go. Since his death, she always spoke of Dante in the present tense. “In spirit, I feel him every single day. But in the physical sense, I will never get a chance to feel his loving embrace. Or smell the cigarette smoke on him. But wherever he is, he's happy. I—I know it!”

“You sound pretty confident.”

“He's with my mom.”

Rawn could not help but see her eyes tear up, but he was not going to mess this thing up by insulting her with an attentive
gesture or soft-spoken words that she was too strong to accept. Instead, he spoke what he wanted to say. “You're parentless. That must be tough. I mean, you're still young.”

In a faint voice, she said, “Yes.” She bowed her head briefly. “But I'm good because I'm blessed.”

“Of course you are. It's a good thing that you're aware of that.” He reached over to touch her shoulder gingerly. When her hand caressed his, he sensed an internal moment of reckoning: where there had been a void, he now felt the boldness return in his heart.

In a quiet voice, she said, “Thank you.”

“I understand…”

“Yes, I know you do.” When her lips spread, her soulful eyes softened, and subtle lines which gently touched the corners gave her face depth.

“You were very close to him.”

“Very.”

“Then we should make another toast.”

“For, to?…”

“Your father.”

Cheerful, Imani exclaimed, “Oh, how apropos!” She lifted her glass. “He would love that. He was a wonderful man, my father, but I must confess, he was very conceited. So, to Dante!”

Rawn was about to click his beer bottle against Imani's toasting flute and it occurred to him what she said. “Dante?”

“Yes, Dante. Dante Godreau? He was my father.”

The End

Bonita Thompson is the author of
The New Middle.
She currently resides in Los Angeles. Visit her blog at
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ALSO BY BONITA THOMPSON

The New Middle

Strebor Books

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

© 2016 by Bonita Thompson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.

ISBN 978-1-59309-624-3

ISBN 978-1-4767-8323-9 (ebook)

LCCN 2015957694

First Strebor Books trade paperback edition May 2016

Cover design:
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Cover photograph: © Keith Saunders/Keith Saunders Photos

Cover design by Marion Designs

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