Simon grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re a doll, baby,” he declared.
Topaz strolled toward the bar, stopping to speak briefly with old friends and acquaintances. When she found Alex nursing a drink, her smile brightened a little and she nearly forgot her desperation to leave the party.
“You don’t appear to be enjoying yourself,” she noted, taking a seat on the vacant stool next to him.
Alex smiled at the observation, his gorgeous gaze softening. “I shouldn’t have let my cousin talk me into being here.”
Topaz’s smile lost a bit of its radiancy. “Your cousin? Not ... DeAndra Rice?” she asked, unable to mask her displeasure when Alex nodded.
Of course, Alex noticed her reaction. He figured Topaz was just another person his cousin had rubbed the wrong way.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, setting his cheek against his fist. “You know my relatives, my friends. Why are we just meeting?”
“I don’t know,” Topaz coolly answered, leaning forward when the bartender approached. “Ginger ale please. I guess everything happens for a reason.”
“And that’s the second time I’ve heard that tonight.”
Topaz smiled at his frustration. “You see?”
Alex found himself unable to respond. For a moment, he was almost in awe of the soft, innocently seductive gleam in her extraordinary amber eyes.
Topaz’s smile transformed from one of amusement to one more knowing. “They’re natural,” she said.
The silky jet-black lines of Alex’s brows drew closer. “Excuse me?” he whispered, leaning nearer. He hadn’t the faintest idea what she meant.
Topaz motioned toward her face, her long French-tipped nails brushing the cool, creamy shade of her eye shadow.
Alex grinned then and nodded in understanding. “So are mine,” he shared, before shrugging. “I would’ve been able to tell, anyway.”
“Oh, really?” Topaz challenged, her full lips curving into a playfully doubtful smile.
Alex took a swig from his fresh drink and nodded. “Believe me, I’ve seen enough phonies in my day.”
“Yeah,” Topaz sighed, unable to mask her grimace over his remark, “hanging around this crowd, I find that easy to believe.”
It was Alex’s turn to grimace. “I assure you, these people aren’t my crowd of choice. My cousin made me think I needed to be here.”
Topaz sipped from the tall glass of ginger ale, letting the crisp strong flavor of the drink bubble against her tongue. “Sounds like her,” she said, after swallowing.
Alex kept his eyes focused on his hand where it rested atop the bar. “You mind telling me why you two don’t get along?” he asked.
Topaz set her glass aside and reclined against the metal-barred back of the stool. “It’s a long story,” she acknowledged simply.
“Well,” Alex sighed with a glance across his shoulder, “you’re the only person here I’ve enjoyed talking with this much, so you should feel free to share.”
The translucent glow radiating from her dark face dimmed for the first time that evening. “It’s just old news, very old news, best left buried,” she decided.
The reply was more than enough to tell Alex that Topaz Emerson’s relationship with his cousin was a personal and painful topic. It surprised him to feel a partial urge to wring De’s neck for causing a moment of sadness to the graceful beauty.
“So why are you here?” he asked, choosing not to dwell on such dark emotions. “I get the feeling you’d rather be doing something else.”
Topaz folded her arms across her chest. “My friend got an invite. He and DeAndra are friends,” she said.
Alex’s stare followed the trail of her fingers roaming the length of her flawless deep brown skin. “Simon, right? Your man?” he slyly probed, his eyes still following the way she caressed her skin.
Topaz shook her head. “A friend. That’s all,” she said, excluding the fact that they used to be more.
Alex sipped more of his drink. He offered no further comment on the subject.
“Anyway, I grew up around this stuff,” she shared, observing the staid crowd with unmasked disinterest.
“You’re from Charlotte?”
“My parents are from Africa.”
Alex’s unsettling stare narrowed. “With a name like Emerson?” he noted.
Topaz laughed at his reaction. “Actually it’s my mother who’s African. She met my father when he visited during a college trip. She was in school herself, but had come home from the States to visit. They met and ...” She paused to shrug. “The rest is history.”
“So you were raised in Charlotte?”
“I spent much of my childhood in Africa,” Topaz explained, recrossing her legs as she spoke, “but then we came here. My parents live in New York now.”
Alex was intrigued. The look on his gorgeous face proved it. “That accounts for your accent,” he said, when she noticed him staring. “Very distinctive,” he added.
Topaz’s trademark grin was so sunny, her eyes often narrowed to the point of closing. “Well, hopefully you’ll never forget my voice.”
“I don’t plan to,” he said.
